《Surviving The Myriad Worlds (A Multiplanar LitRPG Isekai)》 Prologue - A Voice Unheard in The Dark When facing death, one must take care that their body does not betray them. Before an overwhelming threat, the body will freeze, weapons can slip from sweat-soaked palms, and uneven breathing causes focus to slacken. To become truly strong, mastery of the body must be achieved. Alvan was long past worrying about such things. As he slinked through the dark, his focus remained crystal clear, and his heart steady. When he placed a hand on a crude column and peered around the corner, he left no residue. His body had long left behind such mortal needs as sweating or leaving scents. When he spotted a patrol, there was no point in holding his breath as he activated [The Space Inbetween] and no longer existed in the same reality. The labyrinthine walls of the great hall turned from raw stone to glossy obsidian-like material. Alvan knew from experience that if he peered into that crystal, he would see countless faces screaming in agony. The towering ceiling many spans above grew taller and were lost in absolute blackness. The light lent by the braziers retreated and became pinpricks in an all-consuming night. An oppressive silence descended which seemed to swallow all sound. It would have been impossible to navigate had it not been for [Shadow Sympathy], which gave him an intuitive sense of what lay in the dark. No matter how many times Alvan ventured here, it always unnerved him on a primal level. There was constantly an omnipresent sensation of being watched, a constant brushing against the edge of his senses. The place radiated hostility, a disdain for all things corporeal. Alvan never lingered here if he could help it. Many past holders of his ability who made a habit of overstaying never left. In this place, the imposing bodies of the Ahsmati patrol turned insubstantial, mere wraiths of their former selves. Curiously, the heart, nervous system, and brain remained largely visible though much redder than reality. A fact that had helped him identify weaknesses previously. Alvan was confident that he could take out the entire patrol. Whether he could do so before they raised the alarm was another question altogether. It was better to risk leaving them alone. He triggered [Shadow Meld] and dived into a nearby shadow. It enveloped him with nary a ripple, warm and smothering. Alvan felt a current sweep him along and he wormed forward and breached a membrane. With an effort he extracted himself from the dark, now a fair distance behind the patrol. Strands of shadow stuff clung stubbornly to his frame and he crept forward. They resisted for a second, then relinquished their hold and snapped back to the shadow. It would now be on cooldown for a few seconds ¡ª a veritable eternity at his rank. He only risked it because he was within sight of the exit ¡ª and because the whispers had started. They spoke with innumerable voices and were too discordant to understand. Which was good. Bad things happened when he could hear them. Ignored them, he turned the corner and sighted the exit. A pair of intricately engraved doors lay before him, large enough that several wagons could pass through abreast. Alvan nearly dropped [The Space Inbetween] when an enemy turned into view. It was often hard to read the expression of an Ahsmati in the best of times. Their beastial features did not have the capacity nor decency to form S¨±nsian expressions. However, even he could interpret the bulging eyes and gaping maw as a sign he had been noticed. Already the creature was recovering and was preparing to bellow. It must possess a high level and specialized abilities to keep up with him. Alvan would have liked to leave without leaving a trace, but this looked to no longer be possible. Alvan drew his L¨­vuh from its modified scroll case and unfurled its wide ribbon-like length in one smooth flick, letting it droop to the floor. He used [Animate] and whipped it forward. The L¨­vuh extended to its full length, about a dozen paces, and reached towards the Ahsmati''s throat. To its credit, it was able to draw its sword and attempt to block the L¨­vuh, but the insubstantial length phased through the blade to plunge into the creature''s neck. As soon as Alvan saw the tip exit the nape of its neck, he ended [The Space Inbetween]. The Ahsmati stopped dead and clutched at its neck with a faint gurgle. Then it collapsed like a rock. The upper half of the sword, some fingers, and the head separated from the body. Alvan darted forward and grabbed the corpse with one hand, grunting as he bore a weight many times his own. With the other hand, he caught the fingers and head in rapid succession, then he kicked forward to catch the severed blade with the flat of his foot. Balancing on his one remaining leg, he gently lowered them to the ground. He strained his senses for any sign of alarm from the patrol he had just passed but was relieved when their footsteps continued without interruption. It was now only a matter of time before someone found this. It was time to be off. Alvan braced himself to use [The Space Inbetween] again. Usually, Alvan wouldn¡¯t dare use it in such quick succession. However, he was in the middle of enemy territory and about to cross into the heart of their camp. The tidings he brought were critical enough to risk it. The shadowlands returned and Alvan darted through the gate to the outside. He found himself in the middle of a simple plaza surrounded by simple cloth yurts. From their openings came the sounds of the Verunian tongue, punctuated by growls and yips. In the far distance loomed a massive earthen wall crested by enormous stones that formed a crude imitation of a parapet and crenels. Massive shapes in the distance, far dwarfing even the largest yurts, patrolled the walls. It was those that he needed to avoid above all. It was dangerous to linger here, so he used [The Space Inbetween] again and sprinted. He made it to the space between two yurts before it was too much and canceled the [Ability]. The whispers had grown loud enough that he had begun to understand them. The knowledge that he had learned, he would have rather not known such things. Alvan wasn¡¯t willing to risk retreating into that space for a good long while so he relied on his mundane stealth skills to begin making his way over to the wall. Amongst these lower-level grunts, it was more than enough. He had nearly made it to the wall when an earth-shattering roar that prickled every single one of his hairs sounded. The entire camp fell silent for an instant before it was answered in kind by a thousand, thousand voices. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. I''ve been made. Throwing caution to the wind, he sprinted to the wall in a fraction of a second and readied himself. He hated doing this but he saw no other option. Hopefully, enough time had passed. He activated [The Space Inbetween] and placed one hand against the earth of the wall. It resisted him for an instant, then it was as if his fingers had broken a membrane and his arm sunk into the earth. It was quickly followed by his shoulder and the rest of his body soon after. Alvan swam through the material darkness, which was roughly the consistency of cold honey, with practiced strokes. Even given the fact that he only really needed to take a breath once every hour, he felt trapped and Alvan fought to keep his fear contained. The encroaching whispers certainly did not help either. If it wasn¡¯t for [Shadow Sympathy] then he would be completely in the dark. As it were, [Shadow Sympathy] let him have a seventh sense of all shadows around him relative to his position. There were no shadows inside this artificial hill or beneath him, so he could tell where the surface was. More importantly, shadows that moved correspond to an enemy. So he simply needed to exit at a spot with no moving shadows before he was consumed. Alvan had identified one such spot but was concerned he wouldn''t make it. This was the longest he had ever spent in [The Space Inbetween] and the whispers were reaching a crescendo. They almost sounded gleeful and he was doing damnest to ignore them. Muscles screaming, he crossed the last few spans in a burst and slithered out of the in-between, slopping to the ground. Right before he fully exited, he felt a searing pain from his ankle. Alvan staggered to his feet and inspected his injured foot. Three parallel gashes cut straight through the enchanted cloth of his breeches as if it were parchment paper. Already, it started to weep droplets of blood. Though less than he expected for a cut of that size. Looking closer, he realized that the edges of the wound were necrotized. This was bad, even that little blood would attract attention. He needed to get away from here fast. Stretching before him was a wasteland pockmarked by years of conflict. So far that even his vision could only make out shapes, was an opposing network of trenches. It was there that his objective lay. [Shadow Meld] was off cooldown so he picked up the farthest shadow he could see, one cast by a thoroughly burned-down house a stone''s throw from the trenches. Alvan fell back into his own shadow and was hiding behind a soot-covered brick wall an instant later. A wave of tiredness hit him an instant later as nearly all of his mana was drained. That teleport had been on the edge of his maximum range. He began to creep towards an old trench left over from a previous frontline when instinct caused him to activate the [The Space Inbetween]. A near-instant later, the ground beneath him was obliterated as several spells struck where he had been. He exited the shadowy realm inside the old trench but suffered another necrotic cut across his back for his transgression. The projectiles simply followed him. Damn, they must have a sensory specialist. Alvan judged that the earth magic reinforced trench was only going to hold a few more seconds under this assault. He needed to do something drastic. He activated [Shadow Sympathy]''s active for the first time and used it to shape the darkness of the trench. All of the nearby shadows were drawn into a small nucleus in front of him, making the trench look as if it were lit under flat lighting. Alvan poured his [Attributes], [Abilities], [Traits], and even some nonessential [Skills] into the nucleus, leaving him little more than mortal. He cut off the [Ability] and the nucleus expanded, then shifted into a near-perfect replica of him. Wounds and all. When he had finished, he dropped to his knees. That move had cost him the rest of his stamina and he was out of mana, leaving him a wreck. Alvan inspected his clone. There had been some small losses in combat strength as [Shadow Sympathy] could currently only transfer seven parts in ten of his potential. However, for anyone who did not know him intimately the difference should be imperceptible. Dirt cascaded over him as a large crack ran down the stone wall of the trench. He was out of time. There was no need for discussion, the copy had been created knowing what it had to do. It dashed away at a speed that was blinding to his current senses while Alvan focused on suppressing his presence. It was easy enough since he was nearly tapped out. Through the tenuous connection he shared with the clone, he could see that it had multiple enemies hot on its tail. It had taken some hits, but his mimicry extended even to injuries. It seemed all of his ranged attackers had shifted their attention to the decoy Typical Ahsmati, thinking with their blood and not their heads. The only reason we are losing this war is simply because of their numbers. Alvan abandoned his cover and snuck through the trench. That won''t be happening for much longer, with this intelligence we should be able to ¡ª He blacked out for an instant and when he next came to, was pressed against a wall. There was an all-consuming pain in the center of his chest. He looked down in stupefaction to see a large spear had pierced through his chest and into the stone behind him. He could see a purple liquid dripping from the shaft and the skin around the spear was beginning to blacken. Breath drawing short, he looked into the distance, hoping to at least get a look at his killer. Standing atop the earthen ramparts was a human woman, not an Ahsmati like he had been expecting. She was muscular, towering, and wore crude animal skins. Several similar spears to the one impaling him were strung across her back. It was too far but make out her features, but that didn''t matter. He knew her. The Huntress. Of course, she wouldn''t be fooled by that. That thrice-damned traitor. Desperately, he canceled [Shadow Sympathy] and tried to dislodge the spear with his renewed stats, but his fingers didn''t have the strength to get a hold. There was no feeling left in them. He tried to activate [The Space Inbetween] but lacked the mana for activation. Up above, the Huntress had turned around and left. Alvan let his limbs go limp. He had no strength left in them anyway. I am really going to die, aren¡¯t I? The veteran of hundreds of missions, Alvan had made peace with such a fate. However, there was one issue that did not let him pass peacefully. Alvan dipped a finger into his wound had began writing a message on the spear shaft. Calamity. Otherworldly. Oppor ¡ª 1 - Shoe to Drop, Part 1 (Revised) Dante never got used to places like this. He risked a glance, raking his eyes over the lush green lawns and the immaculate facades of nearly identical houses. It looked like a set from some eighties sitcom. It was far too perfect. There was no trash on the sidewalks, no faded paint, and everything had the same colors. It must have been the work of a homeowners association. Places like this always had them. It felt as if the place was rejecting him, that he did not belong. He could feel all the judging gazes from velvet-wreathed windows, and imagined some well-to-do housewife drawing those curtains and locking the door. A drop of sweat rolled down his face and he fought the urge to hunch. He needed a distraction. Anything to get out of his head. One of the pillars of a nearby house caught his eye and he squinted at it. Was that ¡­ marble? It was always marble with the rich, no matter how gaudy it looked to everyone else. This place speaks money, he thought while eyeing a brand-new Mercedes-Benz. A make and model that he did not recognize ¡ª and he had seen a fair few. He reckoned that it was worth easily a hundred grand. He allowed himself to imagine for a moment how that leather-clad steering wheel would feel beneath his fingers, the air breezing through his hair. Bliss. Now, if it was a few years ago I would ¡­ He would what exactly? Even in his prime, he knew better than to target such neighborhoods. This was where real power lay, and you did not mess with that. At least the fantasy took the edge off. He sighed and ¡° ¡ª You lost Sonny?¡± Dante jumped and looked to the road, where a car had pulled to a stop. This one wasn¡¯t quite the specimen that he had spied before, but was still a classic. Driving it was an old woman, likely older than her vehicle by an order of magnitude. She gazed at him through tortoiseshell spectacles in a manner reminiscent of a disapproving librarian. She cleared her throat and said rather pointedly, "It isn''t that long until the curfew, Hon. Shouldn¡¯t you be getting home to your parents?" The harpy gave him a meaningful look and Dante repressed yet another sigh, pushing down a familiar surge of irritation. He had worn his best slacks, dress shirt, and cleanest pair of sneakers to try to avoid such a situation. Wasted effort it seemed ¡­ ¡°Thank you for your concern ma''am,¡± he said, not meaning a word of it. ¡°However, I am not underage so the curfew ¡­ ¡± He trailed off as he saw her disbelieving look and resignedly reached for his wallet, flipped it open, and showed her his license. What a nosy woman, he thought as she leaned out of the car''s window to peer skeptically at the card. Dante wrinkled his nose as he caught a whiff of a strong floral perfume applied way too liberally. ¡°I¡¯ll be darned, so you are 23. You don¡¯t look it.¡± She gave him a sidelong glance. ¡°If that''s the case, then why are you here? I don¡¯t recognize you and I know everyone on the block¡± Of course she does. ¡°I am here to visit my sister. In fact, I am now quite late. If you don¡¯t mind?¡± Dante began walking off, fully intending to leave this Karen behind before feeling something snag his sleeve. A wave of burning anger swept through him and, fighting to keep a snarl off his face, he turned around to see that the woman had taken hold of his sleeve with a surprisingly strong grip. He had given black eyes for less. His breath came in short and fast and he almost made that mistake before he caught himself. I can do better than that now. I must. Something of his struggle must have made its way to his face, despite his best efforts, as she gently let go of his sleeve. ¡°Look, I want to make sure that you are for the right reasons. If you would just say who you are going to ¡ª ¡± Dante interrupted her, nearly out of patience. ¡°The McClellans place, I believe their house number is 1467?¡± The woman blinked rapidly, obviously caught off guard. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s correct. I see that ¡ª ¡± Dante did not hear her last words as he had started walking away. He was out of patience. Checking his phone, he cursed. Shit, I am a half an hour late! She is never going to let me live this down. Now that he was away from that encounter, Dante felt a pang of regret. He could have handled that situation better. Sure, she had been the one to escalate things when she had touched him, but he knew that was no excuse. It was going to be awkward every time he visited this neighborhood. Now he knew for sure that there was someone who disliked him here. He hoped the old woman did not spread any rumors. It hadn¡¯t helped either that his new Demesnes & Daemons game with Ray had run overtime, which always seemed to happen. Really, who could have expected that the necromancer had hidden zombies in the swamp water and that baseline zombies were THAT strong? Battle rating one-quarter his ass, it had taken only six of the bastards had taken down him and half the party before he had excused himself. Dante wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they were still at it. He shook himself out of his reminiscing. He had to be careful. The first time he had tried to find the house, he had walked right past it and had gotten lost so badly that his sister had to fetch him. That was one of his more mortifying memories. If I remember correctly, the house should be around here. Let¡¯s see ¡­ 1463 ¡­ 1465 ¡­ There! 1467. In front of him lay a house much like any other in the neighborhood. It was a rather large house, bordering on a mansion, that was primarily made of white stucco, brick, and marble. It fit in perfectly with the aesthetic of the neighborhood. Personally, Dante thought that spoke to a lack of taste. The grounds in front ¡ª it was much too large to be called a yard ¡ª bore an extensive garden full of blooming flowers, landscaped trees, and an artificial stream. Even the air smelled better here, laden with that fresh-cut lawn smell and sweet scent of blooming flowers. All together, it gave off the sense of a natural oasis that Dante knew for a fact was the result of many thousands of hours of painstaking care. He had seen the gardeners at work. Was it any surprise that he always hesitated there before crossing the threshold? At that moment, he realized that something had changed since his last visit. A sign had been staked into the landscape where it was easily visible from the street. Dante squinted in the twilight to read it. Protected by ¡­ Vantage Security Systems? Seriously? He began the rather long walk to the house entrance and wondered if he should bother informing the McClellans about the massive mistake they¡¯d made. Honestly, it was quite like them to fall for the advertising without doing their research. A cursory search would find several lawsuits concerning how ineffectual their systems are. Problems that he knew for a fact were never fixed. Some criminals targeted only marks with Vantage Security. They did have effective advertising. Any further considerations were cut off as he neared the oak and wrought iron door. This was it. Dante took a moment to straighten his now unruly hair and quickly realized it for the futile effort that it was ¡ª his curls could be so fickle. Not giving himself a chance to overthink, he depressed the doorbell and heard its crystal chimes resonate through the house. Just as he was wondering if he should press it again, he heard quick footsteps on the other side and then the sound of the latch opening. Please, please, please let it be Sis and not ¡ª The door swung open to reveal a tall man with a rather severe expression on his face. Him. Reginald McClellan was a broad man with sloped shoulders and a generous gut. His black hair, peppered with white, revealed that he was well into his sixties. He looked every bit the college professor that he was with his casual slacks and a sporty dress shirt with a half-done tie. It was likely that he had arrived home not long ago. After all, Dante had planned to arrive at the house before he was slated to return home simply to avoid such a situation. Mr. McClellan eyed him sternly, looking him up and down. His gaze caught on Dante¡¯s right hand, as it always did, and Dante subconsciously covered his two missing fingers. Dante had never quite figured out why this always happened and would probably never know. He certainly was never going to ask the man. Looking up, he nearly missed a flash of something on Mr. McClellan¡¯s face ¡ª was it sympathy? ¡ª before the perpetual frown replaced it. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. A frown that he leveled straight at Dante. ¡°You are late Mr. Embry.¡± ¡°Sorry Sir, my ¡­¡± Dante hesitated. Likely talking about the encounter with that nosy woman would color Mr. McClellan¡¯s view of him further. ¡°That is, I missed my first bus. Because I overslept, because of the new job.¡± The frown deepened and Dante winced. Smooth. ¡°Well, not that it matters, Sophia is still getting ready.¡± Mr. McClellan''s eyes flitted from his sweaty face to his untamed hair, his expression hardening. ¡°She wants to look good for her brother¡¯s big day.¡± ¡°Ah, I see. That¡¯s a relief.¡± With that, the silence that he had been dreading descended upon the two of them. What do I do? Is he not going to invite me in? Dante gazed from the still mostly closed door to Mr. McClellan, who was hiding most of his view with his frame. It hurt him that they had not achieved even that small level of trust. Dante had only ever been inside that house a handful of times, he should not have expected today to be any different. Still, this is so awkward. Dante shifted from side to side, fighting the urge to peer over the man''s shoulder. Is Sophia seriously not ready? I can¡¯t just stand here and stare down at her stepfather. C¡¯mon Dante think, there has to be something that you can talk about with him! He racked his brain for anything that they shared in common and quickly concluded that he knew nothing about the man. It wasn¡¯t like either of them had the desire to ever make an effort to get to know the other. Still, there must be something. So caught up in his thoughts, Dante nearly missed it when Mr. McClellan was the one who broke the silence. ¡°That job of yours going well?¡± Dante stared at the man for a second. He had never shown any interest in his personal life before. Maybe he was finally getting to him? ¡°Oh yeah! I started last week. I¡¯ve been putting in quite a lot of overtime hours. After all, it¡¯s a bit harder for me to type quite as fast as my coworkers.¡± He wiggled all three of his fingers on his disabled hand. If it had worked once today, why not try again? He needed all the points that he could have with the man and he was not above using all of the cards at his disposal. Mr. McClellan''s gaze zeroed in on his hand then looked away guiltily. ¡°That¡¯s ¡­ ahem ¡­ good. Very good.¡± Dante hid a smile. So even he could be flustered. Though it was not the most dignified way of doing it. ¡°You were fortunate to get a job like that, given ¡­ everything.¡± Mr. McClellan coughed again and maintained his gaze over Dante¡¯s shoulder. Dante fought not to roll his eyes. Of course the man had to bring up the past, never mind that he had stayed on the right side of the law for years now. He didn''t even pirate shows for crying out loud! "It wasn''t without much effort, believe me. Besides, I couldn''t have done it without my friends and your recommendation." Which he was certain only happened after weeks of nagging by his sister. She was incredibly good at that. There was no chance in hell the McClellans would have that much faith in him otherwise. Mr. McClellan shifted uncomfortably at the mention. "Everyone deserves a second or third chance." This jab did draw a small scowl from Dante and, shockingly, the man seemed to regret his words. ¡°That is to say,¡± he continued, ¡°That you¡¯ve done good, kid. Undeniably made your sister proud. Make sure to keep it up.¡± Dante was so stunned that the jab at his past didn¡¯t register. This was new territory. Never before had either Mr. or Ms. McClellan shown anything close to approval for him. Of course, he had to add an unspoken ¡®or else¡¯ to the end, he thought and smiled wryly. The silence stretched between them again, though perhaps one not as uncomfortable as before. Still ¡­ Where is she? He was so late and yet she wasn¡¯t ready. He supposed he should be grateful that he hadn¡¯t had to endure a conversation like this for half an hour or more. It wasn¡¯t like the place he was taking her to was THAT fancy. As if summoned by the thought, he heard quick footsteps and saw Mr. McClellan make a half turn as a shape darted by him. ¡°Brother!¡± He only had a second to get ready before Sophia tackled him. All the breath left him with an emphatic ¡®oof¡¯. Despite being in her second year of high school, she was already taller than him by a fair few inches and weighed about the same. Not that he would ever mention that fact in her presence. He had learned that lesson a while ago. ¡°Hey Soph¡±, her energy never failed to put a smile on his lips. He reached up to pat her red hair and she immediately scowled, pushing his hand aside. Dante realized that she had grown taller since he had last seen her. Also ¡­ She looks like mom now. Not that she would remember. These days, he barely did himself. ¡°Come on bro, I am not a kid anymore." She drew back from him and reached out her fist and looked at him expectantly. ¡°Let¡¯s do something like this from now on.¡± Dante gazed at her fist questioningly before he realized what she wanted. ¡°A fist bump? No. Come on, it¡¯s not the 2010s anymore.¡± She continued looking at him expectantly and he sighed. Dante listlessly drew back his fist and knocked it against hers. ¡°Boom!¡± Sophia exclaimed and drew her hand while wiggling her fingers and eyebrows. He snorted despite his best efforts and she returned his grin. They were interrupted when Mr. McClellan cleared his throat. ¡°You will be back before eleven, no exceptions. Don¡¯t make me regret this.¡± Mr. McClellan said, staring unblinkingly at Dante, who did his best to meet his gaze without flinching. ¡°Oh my god Dad, he gets it already. Besides, I¡¯ll be there to remind him.¡± Soph walked past him and tugged him back towards the street. ¡°Come onnnn, we don¡¯t have a lot of time left and we don¡¯t want to miss the bus.¡± Sophia pulled him at a brisk pace back the way he came. An instinct compelled Dante to turn back one more time before they left the sight of the house. He found Mr. McClellan still staring him down. Seeing Dante looking back, the man took the opportunity to mouth ¡®I am watching you¡¯ while pointing two fingers at his eyes, then back at him. Apparently, they still had a long way to go. Dante fell into a quick walk beside Sophia and noticed that his sister had gone all out. A nice dress, hair down and straightened, and makeup to top it off. It threw him off, Dante was much more used to her dressing in stained jeans and a ratty t-shirt. If she hadn¡¯t acted so much like his sister, he might not have recognized her. ¡°What¡¯s all this?¡± he asked, gesturing to his sister in general. ¡°Desmond¡¯s Steakhouse is a pretty nice place but nothing like that.¡± She looked over her shoulder to flash a snarky grin at him. ¡°What? A girl can¡¯t look nice every once in a while? Besides, what if the server is cute or something?¡± She cackled at the expression on his face. ¡°No-no-no-no¡± Dante shook his head emphatically. ¡°You are so NOT doing anything like that. Not while I am there!¡± Sophia¡¯s laughing redoubled and Dante shook his head. He picked up the pace and the laughing cut off as she hurried to catch up. A good many minutes passed before she spoke again, and this time she sounded contrite. ¡°So I hope Dad didn¡¯t ride your ass too hard. He thinks you''re a bad influence on me or something.¡± Dante snorted at that. ¡°Only the usual amount. Although ¡­ I think we might finally be making some progress¡± he said, still not quite believing it. ¡°Wait, really!¡± He looked back and saw that she was beaming at him. A look that he returned in kind. ¡°Yeah, it caught me off guard. We were having the usual awkward standoff when he up and complimented me.¡± Dante hesitated for a second, then added belatedly: ¡°I know it¡¯s not much, but baby steps right?¡± Sophia nodded vigorously. ¡°That¡¯s right! I guess we now have two things to celebrate tonight!¡± She stopped suddenly and pointed to the bus stop ahead of them, an alarm on her face. ¡°Shit Bro, that¡¯s our bus.¡± He followed her finger and saw that the bus was indeed already at the stop. Dante grabbed his sister''s hand and broke into a jog. What followed was a madcap dash to the bus, all the while hoping it wouldn¡¯t pull away. They climbed aboard, out of breath and Dante swiped his pass. He said to the driver, who was an older gentleman wearing a ball cap and a grand white mustache: ¡°Thanks for holding up, don¡¯t know what we would have done if we missed it.¡± The driver shrugged, ¡°Not like this route is busy at this hour anyways,¡± and gestured to the interior. Dante could see what the man meant, they had their pick of seats. The only other passengers were a teenager wearing a hoodie bobbing his head to an unheard beat near the front of the bus and two uniformed school girls at the back. They elected to sit together between the two groups, and the bus rumbled into motion. It seemed that they had managed to board the bus just in time, as the pitter-patter of rain against the roof soon began right then. Dante could remember when that meant a miserable night. It was hard to stay warm on the streets with no roof over your head. All the good spots were always taken and you would have to sleep like a half-drowned rat. Given how much it rained here, that was a lot of days. ¡°You know Sis, if it weren¡¯t for you, I don¡¯t want to know where I would be now.¡± He yelped as there was a poke in his side. He turned and leveled a glare at his sister who wagged a finger at him. ¡°None of that Bro. We promised nothing too mushy tonight. We are here to celebrate you getting your new job.¡± Dante massaged his side, he always hated it when she did that. ¡°Yeah I know, but don¡¯t act like this wouldn¡¯t be possible without you helping out. You¡¯ve always been there for me Soph, never lost faith no matter how bad things got. Kept me sane.¡± His voice was trembling and he had to pause to dab at the wetness at the corner of his eyes. ¡°This whole thing ¡­ I want to let you know how much you mean to me¡±. Sophia huffed, looking away. ¡°C¡¯mon Dante, you¡¯re embarrassing me.¡± She was rolling her eyes at him like only a teenage girl could, but he could spot a small smile despite her nonchalant act. ¡°I know, I know.¡± he laughed, ¡°Mushy stuff over now.¡± He poked back at her, eliciting a squeal, and said: ¡°The real question is what you are going to order tonight! Don¡¯t hold back now, this is as much your celebration as it is mine. Also, I got my first paycheck now and man is it waaay more cash than I¡¯ve had, so don¡¯t worry about price or anything.¡± Soph started to respond, then her gaze fixated on something behind him and her expression transformed into one of abject horror. She screamed, a hackle raising sound of pure terror that he had never heard from her, and clutched for his arm. Dante looked over his shoulder and had just enough time to see a grill of an 18-wheeler mere feet away. In that one eternal moment, he locked eyes with the sallow eyes of the driver. The man had a six o''clock shadow and dark bags under his eyes. There was a cigarette dangling from his lips and he was clutching his chest. Then Dante¡¯s world was upturned and became nothing but pain. 2 - Shoe to Drop, Part 2 When Dante came to, he was aware of nothing but that pain for a while. He was lying on his back. He hurt everywhere, his right side most of all. He had been on a bus, there had been a crash, and right next to him was ¡ª Sophia! Dante¡¯s eyes snapped open to reveal vision that was blurry and tinged red. His head throbbed and he groaned, raising an arm to wipe at his face. It came away wet and he saw it was streaked with blood. The sight brought a wave of nausea but he pushed past it, desperately looking for any sign of his sister. Rows of seats lay to his left and right, stretching far above him. Past that lay a bank of windows. The side of the bus, he realized. He tried to rise but grimaced as there was a spike of pain on the right side of his chest. Something feels broken. He gritted his teeth and pushed past the discomfort, managing to flip onto his side. The movement caused the tinkling of glass. Pain lanced up his back at the movement and he reached a trembling hand to feel it. Sharp nubs met his fingers. Shit, I think some of that glass is in me. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and wait for the pain to stop. Every movement was agony. Even so, he gritted his teeth and stood up with a colossal effort. With eyes heavy with tears, he looked around the cabin. The front of the bus, where the bus driver had been sitting, was an amalgamation of twisted metal where bus and truck had become one. Of the kind bus driver, there was no sign. The devastation reached up until a few rows away. The thick, acrid smell of fuel and chemicals burning wafted from that direction, a whiff of which instantly set him coughing. The side on collision had bent the front until it resembled the letter ¡®J¡¯ more than anything else. Just about every window had shattered and many of the chairs had detached, laying strewn across the cabin. It was then that he spotted his sister, bent over one of the loose seats. ¡°Sophia!¡± He yelled and took a step towards her. He nearly face planted with the first step and was forced to clutch a chair until everything stopped spinning. To his immense relief, she moved at the sound of his voice. One eye cracked open and her unfocused gaze found his. ¡°Dante! What ¡­ what happened?¡± She shifted and a grimace flashed across her features, then clutched one arm to her chest. ¡°Shit, my arm. I ¡­ think it¡¯s broken.¡± Dante gave the offending arm a once over and saw a quickly growing quilt of blue and black. That ¡­ and there was a definite bend. He sucked in a breath, not quite sure what to do. It was probably not safe here, but he remembered hearing something about not moving someone if they were heavily injured. There was a sudden flare of heat and the burning smell redoubled. Dante looked up to see that the fuzed section had caught fire. An unidentifiable liquid was leaking into the cabin in spurts. On its surface, a fire was catching that was quickly growing into an inferno. Well, that answers that question. ¡°Come on sis, we need to get out of here.¡± Dante took hold of her uninjured arm and gently helped her to stand. Even with her participation, Dante was alarmed that he had to do most of the work and by the end she was panting heavily. Dante supported her and they shuffled away from the blaze towards the mid-section of the bus. Dante scanned for an exit. The door at the front was no longer existent. The back window of the bus seemed to be pressed up against something, a building he thought, so that was a no-go as well. Which left ¡­ He looked straight up to the series of shattered windows above. Bingo. ¡°Hold on a second, I think see a way out,¡± he said and let go of her so that he could climb up. However, his sister did not relinquish her grip. He looked back to see that she was looking at him with a familiar stubborn expression. ¡°Hold on, we need to go help them,¡± Sophia said with iron in her gaze and pointed towards the back. Dante followed her finger to where the two school girls had been sitting. One appeared to be unconscious underneath a detached section of seating and the other was on the ground next to her yelling something into her phone. Then, he turned the other way to where the flames had begun to escape the cabin and were spreading along the ground rapidly. The smart thing to do would be to get him and his sister out of there. Dante did not owe these people anything and he would be damned if anything happened to Soph. Resolving himself, he reached down and grabbed tightly onto her wrist. He hoped that she would be too weak to fight him. ¡°Dante, please.¡± He looked back into her big eyes, so filled with trust and all of the expectations in the world. It was suddenly clear to him at that moment that if he made them leave now something in that gaze would die forever. Dante made his decision. ¡°Go and see if you can find that boy, I¡¯ll go help them.¡± At his words, Sophia¡¯s face lit up and his heart ached with how proud she looked in that moment. Dante released his death grip on Sophia¡¯s hand and paused for a moment when she wobbled and grabbed onto a nearby chair. Fortunately, she stabilized and began gingerly making her way up the cabin towards the fire. His instincts were screaming at him to go with her, but he forced himself to turn and go to the school girls. On his way, he surveyed the situation. It appeared like the chairs in front of them had sheared themselves free and had pinned one of the girls to her seat. He could see a not-insignificant amount of blood dripping from the seat beneath her. She appeared to be conscious and was surprisingly rather calm. Her friend on the other hand ¡­ Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡° ¡ª everything is on fire and she¡¯s bleeding all over the place! We need help right now!¡± The girl spoke in a rapid staccato, hardly pausing for breath. ¡°I think the driver¡¯s dead and ¡­ and,¡± she paused as the operator on the end finally seemed to get a word in edgewise. ¡°Our location? Uh ¡­ we are ¡­ uh ¡­ on ¡­ on¡± She looked around wildly, trying to spot any landmarks through rents in the bus. ¡°128th street, near the Smartway¡± Dante said, before gripping the wreckage and giving it an experimental heave with all of his strength. It shifted slightly and the pinned girl let out a little gasp of pain. ¡°Shit¡± he muttered. He had been afraid of that, brute strength had never been his strong suit. He would need something more, like ¡­ leverage. He cast his gaze for anything that could work. There. It was one of the vertical metal poles that passengers could grab onto if all of the seats were full. Fortunately, it was already nearly detached and when he pulled on it with all of his body weight it came free. Dante took it back and kneeled to be on the same level as the pinned girl. ¡°Hi there, what¡¯s your name?¡± The schoolgirl looked at him uncomprehendingly, his casual manner seemingly taking her off guard. She started to say something, coughed, swallowed, and managed to get it out the second time. ¡°It¡¯s ¡­ Emily.¡± He noted that Emily was deathly pale. ¡°Glad to meet you, Emily!¡± he said and placed the pole underneath the bench before looking back at her. ¡°Look, we don¡¯t have much time. I know you are hurting right now, but we have to get you out of here.¡± He laid a hand on the obstructing seating. ¡°I am going to have to move this ok?¡± Emily nodded, and he attempted to smile reassuringly. It didn¡¯t seem to work. ¡°But I am going to need your help, ok? When I say ¡®Go¡¯ I am going to need you to push up.¡± She nodded again and Dante turned to glare at the phone girl, who was still babbling away. ¡°You!¡± he barked at her, causing her to jump in surprise before turning a wide-eyed gaze back at him. ¡°Give me a hand with this.¡± Her gaze was blank, then comprehension dawned on her face as she saw the improvised lever. She hurried over to take a place on the other side of the pole. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°Alright, let''s go on push. 3 ¡­ 2 ¡­ 1 ¡­ PUSH!¡± Dante pushed down with all of his weight and the phone girl did the same while Emily pushed upwards feebly. The cabin filled with the sound of groaning metal and the pole flexed to the point that he was afraid that it would bend. However, the chair did not budge. What is it going to take to get his damn thing to move! Dante let go of the pole, took a couple of steps back, and then dived into it. He screamed as something tore loose inside of him, but the pole gave with a shriek of tearing metal and the bench shifted off of Emily. A new wave of pain hit him a moment later, causing him to stagger and nearly fall before he caught himself. He watched as the phone girl rushed to Emily and hugged her, which seemed like a monumentally bad idea to him but it was over before he could stop it. He noticed that Emily still seemed to have a fragment of the chair in her gut, which he was certain was very not good. Dante tried to rise but was forced to rest against the wall again as dizziness hit him. That maneuver had taken a lot out of Dante and he found was having difficulty forming coherent thoughts past the pain and the heat. Especially the heat ¡­ That''s right, the fire! He turned and, thankfully, saw Sophie and the teenage boy with the hoodie ¡ª who seemed relatively unharmed although a little singed. He was also glad to see that some color had returned to Sophie and that she was looking more stable. Close behind them, lay a thick sheet of flame that was ever approaching closer. Where is all of this coming from? Just what was the truck hauling? Whatever the answer may be, it was clear that they were out of time. Dante pointed at the teenage boy and said, ¡°You, go up first. We need someone to pull up the injured.¡± The boy started, looked like he was going to object, met Dante¡¯s glare, and then began climbing. Once he reached the windows above, he paused to eye the jagged glass shards. He bunched his hoodie up at his hand and began pushing the shards out of the way while the rest of them watched the flames approach. ¡°Now you!¡± he said to phone girl the instant the boy climbed through. ¡°We need you to help pull Emily up!¡± She nodded and made her way up, thankfully much faster when the boy offered a hand. Now for the hard part. ¡°C¡¯mon Sis, let¡¯s get Emily out of here.¡± They hurried over to where she had been lying and found that she was limp. Fortunately, she still appeared to be breathing. Well, that¡¯s going to make this harder. He took one of Emily¡¯s arms and Sophia followed his lead. They dragged her beneath the window, though he was doing most of the work. ¡°I¡¯ll lift her the best I can Sophia, you just make sure that her arms are straight so that they can grab on.¡± Dante waited for a nod before shifting his grip to under her armpits. Then he began to lift. Chest screaming with pain, he strained to get Emily past waist level. His sister helped the best she could, but she only had one arm after all. Then, Dante could feel the heat intensify. He risked a glance down and saw that the flames were quite literally licking at their heels. Ice plunged through his veins and he tapped into a reserve of energy he didn¡¯t know that he had and lifted Emily higher with a primal roar. Suddenly, the weight disappeared and he looked up to see that the pair above had finally grabbed onto her hands and was pulling her up. There was no time to waste and Dante began climbing after her. He paused midway and extended a hand down to Sophia, which she took. He helped her keep her balance as she climbed up to where he was. The seats that they were standing on groaned ominously as it bore both of their weights. ¡°You first!¡± he shouted over the low roar of the flames. Something of his unwillingness to yield on this matter must have bled through because she complied after only a short glance at his face. As soon as the pair helped her through, he went to follow. As he pushed off the chair there was the shriek of tearing metal and its support disappeared from beneath him. Dante flailed about for something, anything that could arrest his fall. Finding nothing, he was engulfed in the torrential flames beneath. The pain was instantaneous and overwhelming and he screamed out. ¡°Brother!¡± Through the surrounding flames, he saw Sophia above being held back. She was fighting hard. Tears and snot were running down her face and her yells had quickly devolved from anything sensible. He locked eyes with the teenage boy and tried to say, Get her out of here! But there was no air in his lungs. Something of his message seemed to get through as the boy nodded and then pulled Sophia out of sight. Dante tried to crawl through the flames and reach upwards but his muscles refused to listen to him. Instead, they contorted then contracted, and he curled into the fetal position as all moisture began to be cooked out of them. It was a small mercy then when there was an earth-shattering BOOM as something detonated. All pain was replaced with oblivion. But it was not the end. 3 - Coming to Terms, Part 1 Awareness returned to him in degrees. First, there was a sensation of drifting. It wasn¡¯t sure how it knew this as the Entity no longer had any senses. By all logic, it should not be feeling anything. Yet the sensation remained. But drift it did for an indeterminate amount of time. It stopped. This was not a natural coming to rest, it was more akin to the collar of your shirt getting caught mid-sprint. It was a brutal sensation that interrupted the state of tranquility the Entity had been in for all of its limited memory. This inspired the entity''s first thought since it became aware. What am I? The Entity grappled with that question for a while before it was disturbed by the pulling again. Perhaps it would have been better described as yanking, as each bout of it was quite uncomfortable. The Entity yearned for the soothing stream-like sensation of before. It was then that the Entity became aware of a new sensation. Swiftly approaching, he could detect ¡­ light? No, that wasn¡¯t quite it. Warmth? Closer. Perhaps ¡­ Connection? That was the closest word he had for it, though the Entity felt It was all three of those words and more besides. The most important thing, it realized, was that there was something else on the other end. That was equally aware of the Entity. In fact, many things were aware of It. Many thousands of them. They appeared like a sea of stars to him. Each independent being like an infinitely complex pool of lights. As the Entity drew closer and then entered amongst them, the Entity now realized that it had an answer to its earlier question. I am Dante. A human. I ¡­ died. Memories of his former life flashed through his mind. Watching TV as a toddler, his parents screaming at each other in the background. A resounding smack, then sobbing. The back seat of a car, Father driving and Mother laughing. The screech of tires, up became down, and blood was everywhere. His Father was forever silent and his Mother crying. A new home filled with many other children, his sister''s small fist in his hand. Another home, the one with the peeling wallpaper, alone. A prison cell, hard to tell which one exactly, they all looked so alike. That was it huh? he thought, That was my life¡­ It had been a pretty awful life if he were to be honest with himself. He had done so many things that he now regretted. Dante was not surprised that had ended up in a place like this. The only constant that had made it bearable had been his sister. She had helped him turn it around at the end, though it looked like it had not been enough. That¡¯s right, Sophia! It felt like a fog across his mind was clearing now. Of the bus crash, the frantic moments spent saving the passengers and his sister, and his agonizing death in the fire. She had been standing pretty close to the bus when the explosion occurred. If the shrapnel had flown in the wrong direction it could have ¡­ no ¡­ he ¡­ could not think that. Soph was fine, she had to be. That boy certainly got her to safety. He knew that her heart would be broken because she made them go back into the wreck. She always held herself up to the highest standards ¡ª impossible ones by his measure ¡ª even when she could not possibly change anything. It was both her greatest flaw and strength. He was sure this would be no different. Something was wrong. For all that those facts should bother him, he felt nothing. It felt like the previous sequence of thoughts occurred more by rote pattern than any real concern. It should not be this way. He remembered every agonizing moment of being burned alive in visceral detail, but he couldn¡¯t even muster anything beyond a faint pang of discomfort. Even that seemed more like the memory of discomfort rather than the true thing. It was more of an intellectual understanding if anything. Perhaps it was a result of not having a body? Still, the thought of his sister ¡­ Dante wasn¡¯t religious but he prayed, If anything out there is listening, please let Sophia be ok. Don¡¯t let her feel any guilt over the accident, it was my choice to go back. Even with all that happened, it was the right one. And that was that. Dante found it disturbingly easy to accept that he had done all he could and could now move on to more pressing matters. After all, he might have eternity to revisit that issue. Where was he anyway? The afterlife? He had never been much of a believer, he always seemed to have something more important going on than pondering such questions, but this scene didn¡¯t match the afterlife of any he had heard of. Though Dante supposed that perhaps some small, relatively unknown religion had been right this entire time. He surveyed his surroundings again. If so, then this was probably not their heaven. He noticed something new appear at the edge of perception and refocused his attention. Was that another light that had just appeared? It was getting closer in spastic bursts, much like he had been brought here. Then, he felt yet another one. They were being gathered. Dante began to count them. It wasn¡¯t like there was much else to do here after all. He had gotten up to well over six thousand when one of the lights he had just counted had its connection to him ¡®flare¡¯. It was the only way he could describe it. Focusing on it appeared to strengthen the connection further and gave a vague impression of who might be on the other side. It was a clearly feminine presence and felt domineering. He got the feeling that whoever this had been, they were accustomed to being listened to. The connection flared again and Dante understood the trick to it. They were switching between focusing on him and one of the presences neighboring him. He sent a pulse back to them and received one in kind an instant later. He felt a whisper of excitement, at least as close as he could in this state. It was possible to communicate with others! He would just have to ¡­ what exactly? It wasn¡¯t like he knew Morse code was no guarantee that his partner would either. It didn¡¯t stop him from sending pulses to his new friend though, who would always respond after a delay. It was something to do after all. Their little game was interrupted when he felt something else approach. Something different. It was impossible not to notice as it was ¡­ something more. Something near undefinable. It was like they were candles before the sun. The connection he felt to it was different as well. It was impossible to fully comprehend even a small aspect of its thoughts and what he did catch was alien to his experiences. It was like there was gravity around it and they were all orbiting it. It felt like this whatever it decreed, simply was. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Was it a God? Angel? Something Divine? That it was something more was undeniable. Whatever it was, the Being settled amongst them all. It held all attention. They watched as tendrils unfurled from it and began to snake out towards every light around it. One was coming for him. He willed himself to move and pleaded with the Being to stop. It was all for naught, he was trapped like a fly in amber. He could only wait for it to arrive. When it did, the tendril wasted no time diving for the ¡®core¡¯ of him. If he had a mouth, he would have gasped as he felt it impale the essence of who he was and alter something integral to him. It was violating. A sensation so unpleasant that he could easily compare it to burning to death. The worst part was the helplessness, he could not even scream. Only wait until it was finished with him. After an eternity, it lessened and then ceased entirely. Though tendril remained connected and he got the sense it was a part of him now. Not that he cared at the moment, as a ¡­ screen filled his mind.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 1 Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+] Endurance 13 [+]
Charisma 6 [+] Fortitude 11 [+]
Cognition 13 [+] Perception 8 [+]
Constitution 12 [+] Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 [+] Willpower 14 [+]
Skills
Brawl 2
Deception 1
Lock Picking 4
Logic 4
Menial Labor 3
Sleight of Hand 1
Stealth 2
Abilities
[Selections Available]
Traits
Fickle Fate MAX
Human Tenacity 4
If Dante was not mistaken, this was a character sheet. Like what would be in a game. Of him. It was absurd, but it did trigger a memory. He had seen books or shows where something like this happened. If he recalled, some of his more nerdy friends called it Isekai. One of them that he counted amongst his close friends, Daniel, loved the genre and would often rave for hours about it. To get closer to him, Dante had read a couple of those novels so they would have something to talk about. Character sheets or statuses were a frequent feature of such novels and this seemed oddly similar. Dante remembered that most of them had been pure wish fulfillment, which bode well for his future. Though ¡­ if his life up to this point had been any indicator, then he wouldn¡¯t bet on that part. As if he would get a happy ending ¡ª It was as if lightning struck him as he realized something. In a lot of those stories, the hero would return home after their adventure. It was a slim possibility, but Dante could very well see Soph again, as well as the few friends he had begun reconnecting with. Hell, he would even be happy to see Mr. McClellan again. For most things Dante needed rigorous proof, but for this one jump in logic he would make an exception. He vowed right then that he would complete whatever task he was assigned to accomplish and then return home. Perhaps save a world while he was at it, if he was lucky. He scanned the character sheet again feeling slightly ¡­ unsettled. To think the entirety of his life, who he was, and all he had accomplished was represented by a single sheet. It was degradingly reductive. Dante now apparently had attributes, of which there seemed to be ten. Some of which he was familiar with from RPGs, games, and web novels. Attributes such as strength, dexterity, constitution, perception, charisma, and willpower were classics in such media. Though Dante wondered just how much he could infer from his previous knowledge. The rest of the stats ¡ª that was endurance, alacrity, resistance, and cognition ¡ª were less conventional. He could hazard a guess what they did for nearly all of them, with the exception being alacrity. Dante also had no idea what exactly each stat would change. It was one thing to know that leveling charisma would likely make him more convincing, but it was altogether ambiguous what it would accomplish. Would it make him more attractive? Or, more frighteningly, would his words become more convincing than they otherwise should? Which was a truly frightening thought. He would have to be careful of that. Assuming that the baseline for these stats was ten, which was an assumption that he felt safe in making. Which meant ¡­ he wasn¡¯t that bad with people, was he? Dante had friends after all. Not very many of them, but good ones. Though supposed he had never been good with women. He fought the sudden urge to dump points into it. I should probably wait until I know what I want to do. It was still very tempting. Later, he promised himself. At least his cognition and willpower were very good. Given that the average person would have ten in every stat and that there were ten stats, then the baseline should be around one hundred stat points. He had one hundred and five stat points, which was a little flattering. The pluses next to them reminded him of the few RPGs he had played, though it was odd that he was not told how many points he had to distribute. He decided to leave that alone for the moment. Inspecting the skills ¡­ He was dissatisfied with them. He had no desire for that part of his life to define him so heavily. At least he had gotten the logic skill from his recent stint at the community college. It was worth more than all of the others combined by his measure. But, he could not deny that [Stealth] or [Brawl] would likely be useful in his new life. Which brought him to the abilities section, which was empty except for a blinking tab that read [selections available]. As soon as he wondered how to access it, another window opened.
Abilities
Place Mark
Recall
Imbue Flower
Grow Epidermis
Command Steel
These options were certainly varied. And mostly useless. Who would ever want to grow an epidermis? There seems to be no guarantee that you could remove the epidermis. Maybe there is a way to get more information? There certainly had been in the stories he had read. There didn¡¯t seem to be a button for this, so he focused on the name. This didn¡¯t seem to have any effect. Perhaps, there is a keyword? Information? Details? Stats? No response. He kept trying a few others to similar effect. Was he meant to select these without really knowing what they did? Dante HAD to be missing something. He would have to come back to this later. He began to scroll down the list. After some browsing, he quickly concluded that there was probably a skill for everything if you spent enough time looking for it. Fortunately, there were more conventional abilities such as the traditional [Fireball] or the boring [Piercing strike]. It was hard to keep track of time in this place, but he had simply scrolled down for as long as he could stand and had not found the end. In essence, these options are practically infinite. The main barrier is simply going to be my patience. And my memory ¡­ He had quite enough of that, time to move on. The traits section only had two entries, [Human Tenacity] and [Fickle Fate]. Dante wasn¡¯t quite sure what to make of them. The latter sounded like it was something all humans had. He had no idea what it affected either, as tenacity could refer to many things. It was the other one that was more interesting to him, [Fickle Fate]. It held staggering implications. Could it shape his future? And what did it mean for it to be fickle? It sounded unreliable at best. Was it possible for a trait to be bad for him? He focused again on the quite possibly divine being amongst them. Would it be this thing that controlled his fate? He can¡¯t say he liked that idea. Dante paused as he realized that something had changed while he had been focused on the menus. The Entity was now broadcasting something else to him through the tether, a single number. 9,752. Cryptic. As he continued to watch, it ticked down. 9,741. 4 - Coming to Terms, Part 2 That''s concerning. What could the number possibly represent? Was it how much time we have left? It didn¡¯t seem to tick down at a consistent rate, but he also had nothing to compare it to. Maybe it¡¯s a currency of some sort for the skills or stats? For a split second, he had the urge to panic spend his points but managed to rein it in. Haste would not help here. Taking stock, there were very few things he knew for certain. He had been saved from certain death, probably for a purpose. Likely, his next life would be similar to some of the media he had read on the topic. However, he was leery about placing too much faith in those tropes. This brought up another point entirely, the fact that this System seemed to be supremely unhelpful. It explained nothing, which meant that he was forced to make these choices blind. That would make mistakes inevitable and Dante had no way of knowing if he could change any of the choices. Why would it ever be designed this way? It truly stumped him. Perhaps, it¡¯s a test of some sort? Or maybe it¡¯s unfinished? The thought of his future life being entrusted to such a system did not sit right with him. His feelings about it didn¡¯t change the reality, however. This is a useless line of questioning, there is no way to know. I need to think about my strategy for what comes next. Dante summoned the stat sheet again.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 1 Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+] Endurance 13 [+]
Charisma 6 [+] Fortitude 11 [+]
Cognition 13 [+] Perception 8 [+]
Constitution 12 [+] Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 [+] Willpower 14 [+]
Skills
Brawl 2
Deception 1
Lock Picking 4
Logic 4
Menial Labor 3
Sleight of Hand 1
Stealth 2
Abilities
[Selections Available]
Traits
Fickle Fate MAX
Human Tenacity 4
If Dante was being honest with himself, it seemed that he was more fitted for a cloak-and-dagger style. It was what he had done in the past and he had gotten good at it. However, that was not going to work for him. He had promised Sophia to put all of that behind him, new life or not. Fortunately, it seemed that his attributes promised a different path. His high cognition ¡ª which he assumed was analogous to intelligence ¡ª and willpower would seem to favor a caster-type build. This resonated with him far more. If he was going to a fantasy world, he was going to use magic. No question about it. Although ¡­ Dante hesitated, remembering an incident that occurred a few years prior. It had been about four years ago, he had just gotten out of his latest stint in prison and was trying to get his act together for once. After all, as his sister had reminded him, next time they would try him as an adult. He was playing his first campaign in Demesnes & Daemons and was just getting to know Raymond, who had originally been Sophia¡¯s friend. Dante had decided to play a wizard and, even back then, he liked to optimize. That is to say that he maxed every stat involved in spellcasting at the expense of everything else. Dante had done this despite the many, many warnings that he had been given. Also, he was ashamed to admit, but he had been trying to see what he could get away with. He was still ¡­ struggling back then. It had been a few sessions in and they were in their first dungeon. They had just reached the boss''s lair and the party was worn thin. The villain, a necromancer, had cast a fireball straight into their midst. He had failed his save due to having low dexterity and it had utterly vaporized him. Literally. Near full health to ashes in a moment. The rest of the party had been fine, they didn¡¯t have negative constitution. He still remembered staring dumbly at the game board in utter silence before Ray slapped his back and said, ¡°That¡¯s rough, but no worries. We will get you right back into the fray.¡± Then, passed him a new character sheet. Some probably would have stormed out of the room, but for Dante ¡­ the stakes had just risen. From that point onward, he found every encounter to be more engaging as there was actual risk involved. Needless to say, his new character ¡ª a sorcerer ¡ª had much more constitution. The same core idea applied here, but the stakes were real this time. Dante had already died once and he had no desire for a repeat performance. He was not going to waste his second chance. Becoming a spell caster meant that he would have to be vulnerable. He would likely have lower health and lower defenses, and his magic would take time and concentration to cast. There was a reason that mages were often part of a party after all. Dante also had no idea if he would have the space, resources, or talent to be a mage. That was assuming the fiction he was drawing from was accurate ¡­ Besides, he had to take into account the fact that he had no information about the other side. If he was fortunate, then he was going somewhere peaceful and no one knew he was coming. The disaster scenarios were just too numerous to account for. The one responsible for the summoning could be on the other side and they could have certain ideas about debts. Or perhaps he was about to be transported straight into the den of a monster. He could even be born again, which was horrifying for another reason entirely. All bets were off. Plus, he was starting at level 1. This meant that he was at the absolute bottom of the food chain, so to speak. No matter how strong he was able to make himself, it would be meaningless if he went against something with a higher level. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. As for a general strategy ¡­ While he would love to create a hyper-focused build with synergies between every ability, it was far too risky. Especially given that the system seemed determined not to give him any information. The opposite, trying to cover every base, was also not going to work. It was spreading himself too thin and was too reactive besides. Sure he wouldn¡¯t have a weakness, but it would always lose in some way to anything more focused. A balanced approach would work best, though one weighted towards a theme. And that theme? Survival. Dante would withstand any test for a chance to return home. That would be enough for him. Besides, surviving is what he did. In his experience, there was one thing that trumped all others when it came to survival. Information. You had to be able to react to a threat to survive it. Conversely, noticing and getting the first strike on an enemy could end a battle before it even began. So increasing his perceptive ability would come first. Which reminded him ¡­ Dante focused his attention on the mysterious number again and was surprised. 8,130 It had dropped far faster than he had expected. Time to test if it related to how many skills or attributes he could take before it dropped any lower. Steeling himself, Dante placed his intent on the plus next to Perception. +1 to [Perception]. Dante didn¡¯t feel any different, but then again he didn¡¯t have a body. He quickly focused back on the number and found that it was still the same. The blinking pluses next to his attributes remained as well. It seemed he still had more points to distribute. Well, it¡¯s time to test the other side of that theory as well. When he had been scrolling through the ability list before, one of them had caught his attention early on. He was sure that he would not regret picking it up and that it would serve as a test nicely. [Sharpen Senses] acquired. Once again, there was no change either to the mysterious number or to his perception. After a quick scan through the first couple dozen ability list options, it didn¡¯t seem like any had disappeared. So it seemed like he was mistaken that the number did not represent the points that he could spend. It meant that he could search the ability list for as long as he wanted. Well, for up until that number hit zero. If it was indeed a timer. There was a sudden distracting pulse from the edge of his consciousness and Dante turned his attention towards it. He was happy to see that it was his friend from before, the one who he had been ¡®communicating¡¯ with before. Dante sent a pulse back, but the response seemed unchanged. After a period of listening, he realized that there was a pattern. It was Morse code, he was fairly sure ¡ª though he didn¡¯t understand it. It went something like: one long, four short, 2 long, and 4 short before repeating. Dante wasn¡¯t quite sure how to respond and just sent the same message back. Shortly after, the messages stopped. Perhaps his friend had given up on him. Which was a bit lonely, but he couldn''t blame them. It¡¯s not like they could have an actual dialogue. No two ways about it, Dante was going to have to sit back and search through this ability list for anything that fit his criteria. Given its apparent length, this was going to be an exercise in patience more than anything else. Good thing that he had a sixteen in willpower¡­
Dante had no idea how much time had passed at this point, but he was certain that he had gone through thousands of these abilities ¡ª perhaps even tens of thousands ¡ª and had not reached the end of the list. He doubted that there was an end. Though many of the abilities were worthless. Who would ever take [Perspire Adhesive] or [Mana to Cheese]? And he couldn''t ever see a use for [Sprout Fingers]. Nothing that would be worth that price anyway. Besides those, he had come to realize that there were, in fact, many many abilities that dealt with magic. They spanned from something as generic as [Basic Pyromancy Affinity] to the awe-inspiring [Chronomancy Savant]. There were even supportive abilities such as [Mana Battery], [Enhanced Mana Regen], and [Arcane Sight]. Dante had no idea how useful each of these was, but at least they confirmed that magic was going to be a thing in this new world. Dante was sorely tempted to buy one of them. What good was reincarnating in a magical world without magic of his own? But, he was a stranger to how magic worked. For all he knew, all spells required something beyond mana or were prohibitively expensive. The remaining abilities seemed ¡­ freakish to say the least. Many seemed to change how the body worked at its fundamental level, things like [Steel Bones] or [Pneumatic Muscle]. These had the advantage that they were the easiest to understand what they did. But on the other hand? Could Dante even call himself human after selecting something like that? Though, some of them seemed quite good. It would be easy to build synergies as well and it was quite clear what they would do. He had no idea how the new world would react to such features. Humans were famously intolerant of anything different, even something as small as skin color. Dante had no desire to be a social pariah. So no extra limbs or anything that would be readily apparent at first glance. Though it was impossible for him to feel fatigued, Dante was quite sure he had hit his limit. He had been having to scroll back up the list and reread sections more and more. Continuing beyond this point would only see him forgetting viable options with no guarantee their replacement would be as good. It was time to choose. Now that Dante had upgraded his ability to notice incoming threats with [Sharpen Senses], he needed a response to said threats. He would be going with a strategy he was familiar with. If you can''t fight a threat, hide from it. Which, in turn, would assist him in ambushing any would-be attackers. Dante would never fight a fair fight if he could help it. With that in mind, he selected [Chameleon], then checked the list once again and still found it unchanged. Either I have a lot of selections available or I¡¯ve only picked weak abilities. Something would always go wrong and he would need to be prepared in case he was spotted. Dante¡¯s first instinct was to select something that would protect him, like [Impenetrable Skin]. But, after thinking it over, he instead selected [Split Second Reactions]. Hopefully, it would let him identify, react, and dodge threats. By his reckoning, it was better not to be hit at all. Especially when that blow could kill him in a single shot, defensive ability or not. Dante returned his attention to the list and was startled to find that there had been a change this time. The vast majority of the list was now greyed out. He attempted to select the aforementioned [Impenetrable Skin] but was unsuccessful. Guess my luck finally ran out. Which meant that this next ability was likely the final pick. Every ability that he had liked, and even the ones that he had been considering, was now off the table. Which meant it was back to the searching. Great. If only there was an option to ¡ª as soon as Dante formed the thought, the unavailable options disappeared. Well, at least there¡¯s that. If Dante was honest with himself, he wasn¡¯t sure how much list searching he had left in him. Just until the first option that doesn¡¯t sound awful, he promised himself. Then, he got to it.
Honestly, some of these would be more harmful than helpful, Dante thought while considering [Partial Self-Detonation]. Without mitigating powers, that one sounded like a good way to get yourself killed. Besides, it sounded extremely painful. Just about every ability left had either been like this, with enormous drawbacks, or something only mildly useful. Currently, his favorite pick was [Mana to Water]. While Dante was wrestling with that decision, one other entry caught his eye that gave him pause. [Warding Flesh]. That sounded ¡­ promising? It was the first even vaguely defensive sounding option that he encountered ever since his options became limited. It wasn¡¯t quite clear what exactly it would ward against. Perhaps some form of magic? Dante recalled fantasy stories where wards were used in a magical sense. If it was the same case here, then the ability sounded useful. However, it sounded like it might make some change to his flesh, which was certainly not ideal. It was a risk for sure but, for whatever reason, he had a good feeling about this one. Before Dante could second guess himself, he locked it in. What''s the worst that could happen? [Warding Flesh] Acquired. The list abruptly closed and he found himself staring back at the character sheet, now complete with his new abilities and absent the [Selections Available] line. Seems like that''s the end of that. Dante was ¡­ not entirely disappointed. He had gotten a decent number of selections and he was mostly happy with the ones he got. There were a few glaring gaps that he would have liked to cover, like some sort of healing ability if he ever did get injured. Hopefully, he will get the chance to fix that later. Though I can partly fix that now, he thought while inspecting the pluses next to his attributes. Fortitude and constitution were a given. Perhaps a 3 fortitude, 3 constitution, 1 endurance ratio? It would certainly work well enough for this first level-up, he just hoped he had enough. Hopefully, he wasn¡¯t making a massive mistake here. Bracing himself, Dante put one point into those three attributes. +1 to Fortitude. +1 to Constitution. +1 to Endurance. Seems like I still have more. +2 to Fortitude. +2 to Constitution. Oh, even more? Certainly not going to complain about that. +1 to Fortitude. Immediately after placing that last point, the [+] next to his attributes disappeared. Shouldn¡¯t have gotten my hopes up ¡­ Immediately after he had that thought a small window popped up over his [Status] which simply read: [60] As he watched it ticked down to [59], then [58]. This one at least, Dante was sure, was a timer. Likely one that counted down until the beginning of his new life. That ¡­ was not a lot of time to prepare himself. Less so, now that Dante realized that he hadn¡¯t yet thought about what he was going to do when he got there. Not that he had any idea what it was going to be like. All he could do was watch the clock count down. 3 ¡­ 2 ¡­ 1 ¡­ Initializing Dimensional shift. 5 - Rude Awakening, Part 1 The instant the timer hit zero, Dante was elsewhere. Sensation returned in a burst and he was immediately overwhelmed. After that eternity in the void, even a breeze was sandpaper across his skin. There was an instant feeling of vertigo, then he impacted a sucking surface on his stomach. Dante gasped as he felt an immediate bracing cold and his mouth immediately filled with brackish water. The sweet taste of decay followed shortly after and he spit it out. He rose to his hands and knees, still coughing. The next breath was fortunately free of obstruction and all he could do was to greedily gulp down air. He remained like that for a good while, simply trying to bring his shaking body under control. During this time Dante came to a few simple realizations. He was quite naked, wet, and very cold. He realized that his spastic shaking had been replaced with shivers. Where in the hell have I been sent? Dante cracked open his eyes and observed his surroundings for the first time. He was currently resting at the bottom of a shallow pit that had unnaturally smooth sides, the bottom of which was already filling with dirty water. It was as if a perfect spherical part of the world had been deleted, which very well might have been what happened he realized. Even in the short time since he had come here the sides of the pit had begun to slump inwards in a slow-moving tide of mud. Dante looked upwards and realized that it was night. The stars above looked much like the ones back home with the exception that the moon was ¡­ shattered. A fact that was nearly immediately pushed to the back of his mind considering what else lay in that sky. Nearly half of it was taken up by a ¡­ web of sorts, made up of many many blue strands that stretched from horizon to stratosphere. Many of the threads formed smaller geometric formations which were framed by characters that were perfectly readable even from this distance. Furthermore, the formations were constantly shifting and forming new arrays with no pattern that he could discern. Despite it all, no section seemed to interfere with its neighbors. As if there was an order to the chaos. This had to be magic, at a scale that was almost dizzying to comprehend. Each of those strands had to be easily the size of a highway. In total, the construct had to be dozens of miles wide and extended far beyond the limits of his sight. The other side of the sky was no less impressive. Opposite the barrier, it seemed like the sky was bleeding fire. What appeared to be numerous small blazing stars trailing flames arced from somewhere unseen towards the barrier. As one of the stars neared the construct, there was an immediate reaction. The shifting of the barrier grew even more frenzied and the patterns ever more intricate. Spectral threads began to extend out from the barrier and weave together. In a matter of seconds, a much smaller barrier appeared to intercept the projectile right before it struck the first. There was an immediate bright flash and Dante was forced to look away, a large afterimage imprinted in his sight. He looked back just in time to catch the sparkling remains of the smaller barrier dissipating and a rolling sheet of flames spreading across the first. Though it bent at the point of impact, the barrier held. This same scene played out at dozens of locations across the barrier in the next few seconds, all except for one. The fireball struck as the sacrificial shield was still forming, scattering the arcane energies like wisps of fog, and impacted against the main barrier. There was a sound like a million windows shattering and Dante had to slap his hands over his ears. A section of the great barrier shattered and the fireball continued unopposed. Moments later, there was a muffled ¡®THWUMP¡¯ and an enormous plume of flames lit the sky. It wasn''t until he saw the fire reach the clouds that Dante realized the true scale of that blast. ¡°What the Hell?!¡± Never, even in his wildest dreams, had he imagined that he would be transported to ¡­ what had to be a war zone! If one of those blasts landed anywhere near him, there might not even be ashes left. Dante HAD to get out of there. Dante swallowed nervously and then forced his uncooperative limbs to stand. He slipped near immediately as the soft mud gave away and fell back onto his hands and knees. Resigned, he scrambled at the side of the pit on all fours and dug deeply into the loam. It was a constant struggle against gravity and the softness of the mud didn¡¯t offer solid handholds, but Dante eventually managed to get an arm over the lip of the pit and pull himself over. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. He immediately flopped onto his back and took deep breaths to calm his racing pulse. The mud seemed to accept him easily enough, but pulling anything from it took everything he had. Dante was sure that, if he wasn¡¯t careful, it might never let him go. Now that he was out of the pit, Dante was able to get his first good look at his surroundings. The first word that came to mind was desolation. There was no green here, only the same muddled browns and blacks. It was disorientating to the eye as the landscape seemed to follow no natural patterns. Just many craters of various sizes and the ruins of what appeared to be trenches. This stretched as far as his eye could see, which wasn¡¯t that far, given the sheets of rain that continued to blanket everything. Dante would not be surprised if he had been transported to hell. Now what? He had to go somewhere, this area wasn¡¯t even slightly safe. Just, did he go to the barrier or where the spells were originating? Or perhaps he should take his chances and try to walk through this no man''s land? From an immediate danger perspective, going away from the explosions seemed like the better idea, but he just had no idea if the spell throwers would be friendly towards him. Then again, he had no guarantee that ¡­ Motion in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked up to see that a new barrage of spells had begun. Now that he was a little more calm Dante was able to spot that, while certainly the most visible, the fireballs were not the only spells being thrown. There was also what appeared to be a small mountain careening through the air as well as a spear of utter darkness that seemed to absorb all light. Which is just wonderful. One of these spells in particular, a glowing orb that crackled and snapped with large bolts of energy, caught his attention and Dante squinted at it. This one was lower than the others and time seemed to slow as he traced its path. It was coming this way. Dante staggered to his feet and began taking sucking step after sucking step towards the nearest trench. It was agonizingly slow and he was still a few steps away from the trenches edge when he felt every single one of his hairs stand on end. He threw himself into it with everything he had. Mid-air, he was caught by a wave of scorching air which pushed him farther than he expected and straight into the back wall of the trench. He impacted on his side and all breath whooshed out of him as he fell to the bottom. Before he could begin to recover, a wave of glowing light round the corner of the trench to his left and rushed towards him. It looked as if the neon from a sign had leaked out and lightning arced from the glowing tide. All Dante could do before the wave reached him was cover his face and close his eyes. He screamed as his left arm lit up with pain. It was as if a molten rod had been inserted into his arm and Dante convulsed, bending backwards as lightning flowed through his veins. He would have screamed had his jaws not been locked together. The heat was almost a secondary concern, though he swore he could feel his flesh crack. Then it was over and Dante collapsed back to the ground. He opened his eyes and gave himself a once over, fearful of what he might find. His skin was a bright angry red, as if he had suffered the worst sunburn of his life. On his forearm was a large black patch from which blood began to drip. Emanating out from this mark was a strange fractal network of bright red scars that climbed towards his chest, still steaming. He tried to flex the arm and, aside from a jerky shudder, failed. Dante ran a trembling hand over it and felt the carbonized hairs there flake to dust. A quick brush through his hair revealed a bald scalp. He felt like a plucked and roasted chicken, a thought that drew a gasping laugh out of him. His cackles echoed down the trench, utterly incongruous with the constant background of explosions. He couldn¡¯t help himself, this was complete and utter bullshit. He should have died there ¡ª he was surprised he hadn''t. Why had he been rescued from death and imbued with power only to be thrown into a meat grinder? Was whatever had rescued him observing like some kid with a magnifying glass, observing him as he tried to avoid the beam? Whatever the reason, it was clear to him now that he was on his own in a brutal world that was currently doing its best to kill him. A not-so-distant explosion drowned out his humorless laughter and provided a stark reminder of his circumstances. Dante couldn¡¯t stay in this trench forever, no matter how much he wanted to. He staggered to his feet with his wounded arm hanging by his side and took a deep breath. First, he should take stock of himself to see if he had more injuries. Dante began examining his body, looking for any obvious bruising and feeling for any pain. Almost immediately he stopped and raised his right hand with its 5 fingers before his disbelieving eyes. Trembling, he curled them into a fist and reveled in the sensations of his renewed ring and little fingers. It had been a fair few years since he had lost them doing that slaughterhouse job and Dante had almost forgotten what that felt like, though the phantom pain had done its best to remind him. At least the compensation money had been good. A theory occurred to him and he sat down to look at the bottom of his foot. Yep, that scar from when he had accidentally stepped on broken glass was gone. The slight crook in his arm from when he had broken it was also gone. Dante checked every old injury that he could remember and found that they had healed without exception. There was no other conclusion, he had come to this world completely healed. It was hard to describe what he was feeling right now, but at least some of it was gratitude. For the second chance and the miracle cure. On the other hand ¡­ He gazed at his burnt and limp left arm. Complicated indeed. 6 - Rude Awakening, Part 2 He wasn¡¯t going to waste this chance. Dante had spent long enough taking stock, it was time to get moving. He rose from his seated position and scanned his surroundings. The trench was much more well-appointed than he had originally thought. It was formed of an oddly smooth stone colored the same mud brown that everything here was. There were crenelations at the top and a ridge along the outward-facing wall where one could step up to be head level with the ground. A channel at the bottom collected the constant rain in a fast-flowing trickle. Infrequent cracks marred the outward-facing section, increasing in severity until the trench twisted out of sight. After glancing around the corner, Dante realized that the entire trench wound back and forth like a snake. He walked over to the outward-facing wall, stepped up, and peaked over. Facing him was where the barrage of that magic had come from and behind him was the barrier shield. The trench appeared to run a straight line between the two sides, though he was substantially closer to the shield. Which likely meant that this entire trench system was made by the barrier side. Maybe there would be some other side-passages that would lead towards that barrier? If Dante had to choose one of the two sides it would be the one that hadn¡¯t tried to kill him yet, however accidental. One thing was certain, he was going to stay inside of the limited protection of these trenches as long as he could. But before that, his attention drifted down to the corner of his vision where he had just noticed a blinking mail icon. It was nearly straight out of an MMORPG interface. Whatever made all of this has to have taken inspiration from Earth. It¡¯s just too much of a coincidence. With a thought, it expanded and text appeared in front of his vision. [Enhanced Senses] has advanced to Level 2. [Split Second Reactions] has advanced to Level 2. [Warding Flesh] has advanced to Level 2. [Warding Flesh] has advanced to Level 3. Well, that was an unexpected although welcome surprise. Given what Dante had just experienced, he was going to need every advantage just to survive. He honestly had not noticed when these abilities helped him. Although, there was that one moment when he had first spotted the spell that had seemed to last abnormally long ¡­ And he had spotted the spell before it hit him too ¡­ Perhaps they were passively helping him? Dante opened his character sheet and frowned as immediately noticed a few differences.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 1 Attributes
Alacrity 9 Endurance 14 (17)
Charisma 6 Fortitude 15
Cognition 13 Perception 9
Constitution 15 Strength 7
Dexterity 12 Willpower 14
Skills
Brawl (Common) 2
Deception (Common) 1
Lock Picking (Uncommon) 4
Logic (Rare) 4
Menial Labor (Common) 3
Sleight of Hand (Uncommon) 1
Stealth (Uncommon) 2
Abilities
Chameleon (Rare) This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. 1
Sharpen Senses (Uncommon) 2
Split Second Reaction (Rare) 2
Warding Flesh (Unique) 3
Traits
Fickle Fate (Unique) MAX
Human Tenacity (Racial) 4
4589
He had rarities now? That would have been much more useful back when he was picking abilities ¡­ though the current ones did just keep him alive he couldn¡¯t be too unhappy. Dante even had two Uniques, which he supposed meant that he was the only one who had them. Usually rarer was better so that was something. Dante frowned as a thought struck him. Then why had [Warding Flesh] been so cheap? That wasn¡¯t even the only mystery, his endurance had a 17 next to it. Was he getting boosted by something? Also, that same mysterious number had followed him to this new life. Dante was all out of guess for what that could be. Just what did it mean that it was redacted? There was a muffled BOOM, much closer than he would have liked, and a few of the cracks in the stone of the trench yawed a little wider and water began leaking from them. Dante sheepishly closed his status. That was getting to be a bad habit. He promised himself not to check it again until he was safe. Dante began to shuffle down the trench, cradling his limp arm and peaked cautiously around the first corner. Two empty sockets peaked out of a ghastly visage just inches away from his face and he yelped. Instinctively, he punched the grinning skull with his good hand. The jawbone came loose and bounced across the ground with a rattling sound. He was facing a weather-worn skeleton. The corpse swayed and he realized that the skeleton had been pinned to the wall via the broken shaft of a spear that had been driven through its chest. Aside from that, there was no further movement. It was just a corpse. Dante sagged against the wall and took a few deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart. After everything he had been through in these few short minutes, for some reason this had unnerved him the most. Perhaps the situation was catching up to him or maybe it was because it was a stark reminder of what awaited him if he messed up. Hell, he had probably left a corpse just like that not too long ¡­ which is something that he definitely should not be thinking about right now. He studied the corpse, hoping that he could glean something from it that could distract him from such musings. Well, Dante supposed it was confirmation enough that there were humans in this world. At least it looked pretty human to him. Which meant that the barrier people likely had humans amongst their ranks, so he wouldn¡¯t stand out so much. It was pretty likely that this was a soldier given its rusted chest piece, ripped quilted jacket, and stained baggy pants. It had the look of a uniform, though certainly not anything he recognized. It kind of reminded him of the Swiss guard, though with muted colors. Dante looked at his shivering and naked body, then at the corpse. He noted that the clothes appeared waterproof, mostly whole, and only a little soaked in ¡­ juices. Dante tried not to think about that while removing the soldier¡¯s boots. It¡¯s either this or freezing to death. Whoever this was certainly wasn¡¯t using it anymore. Dante was able to get the boots and pants off easily enough and gave them a quick rinse in the channel at the bottom of the trench. Pulling them on, Dante found that they were large on him but was able to repurpose the shoelaces as a belt. The main trouble came when he attempted to get the shirt and coat off, as they were pretty firmly kept in place by the spear. Dante attempted to pull the spear out of the stone but it didn¡¯t even move. Eventually, he just pulled the skeleton itself off the spear and found It was much lighter than expected. As he was setting the body down onto the ground, he noted that the spearhead was fully submerged in the stone along with an indeterminate amount of shaft. Whoever had done this, they were far stronger than anything mortal. Dante cleaned the coat and undershirt the best he could before suppressing while trying not to gag. It had not been enough, these clothes still reeked and he did his best to not breathe through his nose. While not exactly warm at the moment, he was at least protected from the wind. He was honestly surprised that he was not worse off, usually this level of exposure would have crippled him by this point. Perhaps this was his new constitution and fortitude score at work? He inclined his head towards the nameless soldier as walked past and muttered a quick, ¡°Thanks,¡± before he was on his way. Then he was off down those coiling halls, keeping an eye out for any turns that would lead closer to the barrier. Which he did find almost immediately. Almost entirely too many in fact. They came quite regularly in pairs and were slanted to the primary trench. Without exception, they were all very short, only a few dozen feet. Dante imagined that it made the trench system look like a zipper from above. He could not fathom why these trenches had been built this way, but it was very frustrating for him. Anyone''s spirits would drop the hundredth they looked down an intersection only to find yet another dead end. This is not to say that Dante had not found other things between the intersections, but they were equally useless. Nearly all of the exceptions turned out to be underground rooms, only one of which was not entirely collapsed. There were only a few empty and cobwebbed crates inside. The floor was submerged in a few inches of water. He didn''t find any new passages from the room, so he continued. The only other notable thing that he found was the entranceway to what he was pretty sure was an underground tunnel of some sort. It was hard to tell, as it was nearly entirely collapsed save for a small hole at the top that he could hardly fit the flat of his hand through. Looking through it revealed nothing but darkness and loose stones, so that way was likely a no-go. It was hard to keep track of time in the constant downpour that showed no sign of stopping, but Dante was sure that it had been a few hours since he first came here. Aside from that first body that he had come across, he found no other corpses. It was quite eerie just how little was in these trenches. No tools, no other furniture, not even trash. It was utterly cleaned out, giving the entire space a near-liminal feel. It was grating on Dante¡¯s nerves. He continued through trenches that were quickly all starting to look the same aside from one key difference. It seemed like they were becoming more and more ruined as he traveled on. Some sections had partially collapsed, leading to a flood of soil that he had been forced to scramble over. Which led him to this moment, where he was now facing an utterly blocked section in front of him. Before, there had always been at least a little space or the collapsed portion wasn¡¯t quite flush with ground level. Neither case was true here, it was a dead end. 7 - Rude Awakening, Part 3 Dante chose to take a seat on one of the bigger pieces of rubble and kneaded his forehead with one fist. He had no desire to retrace his steps, but the fact that everything was showing more signs of battle as time went on was not encouraging. An opinion that was supported by the increasing frequency of explosions. At least he wasn¡¯t too badly out of breath. Before, he wasn¡¯t sure he could have kept up this pace for this long. Now, he was just winded. At least the exertion had somewhat dried the inside of the clothes, though the stench remained. That didn¡¯t mean that he was in perfect condition, he remained unable to even move his injured arm. He could feel that his ill-fitting boots had already caused blistering and was beginning to feel the opening twinges of hunger as well. The journey back was likely to make all of these worse. Perhaps there is an alternative way? Dante scanned his memory of the last hours, though he was not hopeful. The best route he could think of had been that collapsed tunnel a bit back. If he spent some time moving the rocks, then perhaps he could reveal the passageway. Though he wasn¡¯t too confident about traveling in a tunnel that had already collapsed once. Besides, it was likely it was blocked on the other end. Dante was beginning to suspect that all of the collapses had been at least somewhat intentional. After all, why would you want the trenches you lost to connect to the ones still under control? Why would you want to provide safe shelters to the enemy? They could even be used as staging grounds against their builders. He eyed the pile of rubble that blocked him from further progress. Perhaps he was too quick in discounting going over that. Dante just needed to know if what lay on the other side was worth the risk of exposing himself to everything that raged above. If only he had a way to hide himself. Wait a minute. Dante summoned his status with a thought and gazed at the only ability he had not used yet. [Chameleon]. He had no idea how to use it of course. Though if his experience was anything to judge by then as soon as wanted to use ¡ª it was as if he had suddenly discovered how to breathe again. An entire new sensation opened to him, one that encompassed all of his skin. Something triggered and when Dante looked down at his hand, saw that a distinct grey-brown tinge had crept into his skin. Well, that had been about what he expected. Dante noted that the change was quite slow. Maybe about half a minute until he could see no further change. He was displeased to see the change stopped at his skin and did not affect his clothes. All he had managed to do in the end was make his face and hands a little less obvious. Fortunately, they were already the omnipresent brown that this entire world seemed to be made of. He held up one hand to the water rushing in the small channel in the middle of the trench and concluded that it was a few shades off. Dante just couldn¡¯t help but think that he could have accomplished a better transformation with a generous coating of mud. Maybe it would get better at higher levels? With a start, he realized that his breathing had started to get heavy again and released the ability. Unlike before the ¡®trigger¡¯ lurked in the background of his mind, ready to be activated again with but a thought. In maybe a minute of use that ability had tired him out just as much as the entire hike had, which wasn¡¯t great. He slammed his fist against his thigh and tried to keep his frustration contained. Guess it would have been too much to hope that it would be useful. Regardless, It would have to work. Dante gave himself a short break to steady his breathing before getting up and beginning to climb the pile of stone fragments that blocked the trench. He stumbled a few times as handholds gave away ¡ª honestly, the entire pile seemed less stable than he liked ¡ª but eventually made it near the top where he paused. Bracing himself he activated [Chameleon], gave it a dozen seconds until it mostly finished darkening, and then climbed the rest of the way up while keeping low. Once his head peaked above the ground, Dante gave the area a brief scan and cursed. This area of wasteland was even more devastated than before if it was possible. The terrain was pretty much nothing but craters overlapping craters. The barrage of spells was even thicker here, pretty much constant. Worst of all, there was no continuation to the trench in front of him, just a line of disturbed mud and stone that disappeared into the rain. But ¡­ There was a long ditch just in front of him that pierced the trench and ran to the barrier shield ¡ª which he excitedly realized that he was rather close to now. At the end of the ditch, pressed up against the shield, was the biggest crater that he had seen yet. From all of this, he concluded that one of the more exotic spells had over-penetrated the trench until it had smashed into the barrier and detonated. It was distinctly different from the other craters he had seen. For one, the dirt in this one had been turned into an opaque whitish material that reminded Dante of quartz. It seemed rather hard, as it had escaped the relentless pull of the mud so far and its cross section was nearly perfectly circular. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. He was just about to climb back down to safety to reconsider his options when a bolt of inspiration struck him. Perhaps he could use this to finally get to the shield? It was the most direct pathway and it was somewhat shielded by being below the ground level. Besides, what were the chances that they would aim at the same place twice? Mind made up, Dante used the slight cover from the rubble filling the trench to climb the rest of the way up in relative safety. He dropped into his stomach and began crawling towards the intersection of the collapsed trench and the crystal ditch. It was an uncomfortable journey over jagged stones and he was grateful all over again for the coat from the dead soldier. It was a longer journey than Dante would have thought, especially given that he stopped multiple times whenever one of the apocalyptic spells passed a little too close for his comfort. By the time he reached the crystal ditch, he was breathing pretty hard and covered in grime. Alarmingly, the earth next to the channel was warm to the touch and he questioned just how long ago the channel had been made. Dante forcibly put those concerns aside, he was simply too far to back off now. Dante sat up and swung his legs over the side, then let himself drop. He skidded on his rear and hands down the dozen or so feet towards the bottom. As Dante was struggling to keep straight, he slammed his uninjured hand down and felt something catch on his palm right before reaching the bottom. He had been doing pretty well at keeping his balance until he encountered the nearly invisible pool of water that was at the bottom. Caught off guard at the unexpected resistance, he found himself pitching forward and slammed into the surface of the pool. Dante resurfaced sputtering and climbed back to his feet. Where he had landed the water had turned brown but farther away, where it was not yet tainted, it was hard to tell that water even was there. It was crystal clear. So clear that he had not noticed it from the top. A splotch of red in the water caught his attention and he followed the trail to where it was dripping from his hand. He raised it to his eye and saw that he had a pretty deep gash across the palm. It seemed like this crystalline material had some sharp edges, he would have to be careful about that. As if I didn¡¯t have enough problems. He tucked the bleeding hand under his armpit and took a step, then nearly jumped when there was a tinkling crack. It was a lot louder than he would have liked, echoing off the hard walls into the distance. Another step, another crack. This plan was going swimmingly so far. Dante began to splash through the water as quickly as he was able, disregarding any noise that he was making. It wasn¡¯t like he had any chance of being stealthy anyway, what with the constant sound of shattering crystals. The entire time, he kept his vision locked on the dimly glowing magic shield that was not that far off like a drowning man straining for the surface. He felt so incredibly drained moving through that thigh-high water while keeping up the ¡­ oh right. Once he turned off [Chameleon], it immediately became much easier. He continued his uncomfortable journey with slightly renewed vigor, only a few dozen steps away from his goal when he heard a faint whistling noise. The hair on the back of his neck prickling, Dante turned around just in time to witness a ball of fire the size of a truck hurtle over the channel close to the trench. It passed so close that it left red hot rock in its wake. Time slowed and Dante hurled himself forward and dived into the water, reaching the bottom in an instant. Then there was a mighty boom and all volume ceased as intense pain wracked his ears. The world lit up around him and he watched through the water as a sheet of fire descended into the channel. The liquid separating them instantly flashed to steam. He opened his mouth to scream as he began to be boiled alive. Then he was flying through the air, head over heels, for a concerning amount of time. It was brought to an end when his back impacted something with a sickening crunch that he more felt than heard. Shortly after, gravity reasserted itself and he fell to the ground with only a slightly less painful impact. Dante attempted to take a deep breath and came up coughing, then spit something up. By the metallic taste of it, he was fairly confident that it was blood. All he could hear was a slight ringing sound, but he felt an intense vibration somewhere behind him. Opening his eyes, he saw that just above his head only a scant few feet away was the barrier. He reached out with one hand to touch it. It was like ice, slick and slightly electric. But utterly solid. Because of course it was. Dante let the arm fall to the ground and focused on trying to breathe deeply as whatever he was currently doing didn¡¯t seem to be working. A blur of movement caught his attention and he blinked his eyes back into focus to see an armored hand emerging from the barrier. It was quickly followed by a shield attached to a forearm and a sword, a horned helmet, and then a black armored humanoid body. Dante could swear that in the depths of that armor lay stars, though may have been delirium speaking. The figure circled to his side and crouched down next to him, its large shield positioned to cover both of them. With one cold hand, it cupped his head and angled him towards it. In its face lay two large lenses that gazed back at him like the open holes of a skull. Dante tried to speak, but only a faint grown emerged from his lips. The figure bent further and tilted its head so that its ear was but a few inches away. He tried again. ¡°Please ¡­ help ¡ª¡± A fit of coughing interrupted him, taking the last of his strength from him and he went limp. When something was pressed to his lips, he nearly choked as a trickle of fluid ran into his mouth. He quickly adapted and did his best to drink it down, though a good portion had run out of the corners of his mouth. What had made into him felt like fire in his stomach, and brought with it a profound feeling of drowsiness which he yielded to gladly. He only stirred briefly as two cold metal hands picked him up. His last sensation was a gentle rhythm that he thought might have been walking. 8 - Chance Encounter, Part 1 Ahzi never liked making this trip, but she always made sure to watch the lands as they scrolled past the Landships window. She considered it a civil duty. The verdant lands of the W?l province, tended to by the occasional honored [Cultivator], were especially beautiful at this time of year. They passed golden bushel after bushel of Aureate Wheat, enough to feed the nation and more. At least for the moment. Soon after, they passed the first crater. It was a small thing, the Landship likely could have passed over it with nary a bump. However, the burnt stalks around it as well as the diseased crops further beyond that told a different tale. Some few brave workers still operated here, even though there had been casualties amongst their number. It wasn¡¯t long until they passed another such crater and another. Soon, there was no green. Only dead yellows and brown. In the distance, just coming into view, was Ohsen W?l. The Great Bulwark of W?l. Ahzi sucked in a breath and struggled to keep her expression dignified. Only a scant few cycles before, the fields had continued far beyond this point. The front was moving and at this speed ¡­ She stiffened as she felt a hand close on her shoulder and knew that she had failed to keep her composure. Tempted as she was to keep the mask up, she instead put her hand on top of her companions. If she couldn¡¯t be herself here, then she couldn¡¯t relax anywhere. ¡°You couldn¡¯t have changed any of this Princess,¡± said Syluv who brought another hand up to Ahzi¡¯s other shoulder and began tracing comforting circles on her shoulder blades. ¡°I could have been here!¡± Ahzi gestured generally at the devastation. ¡°Fighting for the motherland amongst my people. If I had been here ¡­ perhaps we wouldn¡¯t have lost so much.¡± The last bit came out as a whisper. ¡°Come now Princess, you know that was never in the cards. The Queen needed you at her side. Ordered it even,¡± said Syluv, who began to dig deeper into her shoulders. Ahzi snorted. ¡°Oh please, she needed me? Mother? As if any of those Summer Orchids at court would dare defy her? I doubt any of them have even seen a battle outside of the arena. They would wilt the moment they met her gaze.¡± Syluv''s massage crept into her mid back and Ahzi made a soft groan of approval and felt tension drain away. That was the spot. ¡°I think, Princess, that the Queen needs you more than you think. The throne is a lonely seat and it¡¯s not like your father''s talents lie in that direction. One woman, however strong, cannot stand alone against the world.¡± Ahzi tried to think of a good retort, but nothing immediately came to mind. After a good few minutes, in which she simply enjoyed the massage, she was forced to admit she didn¡¯t have any good ones. ¡°Well, next time I am not going. As much as your words ring true, she is but one person. I cannot abandon our comrades again as next time ¡­¡± Ahzi paused to take a deep breath. ¡°Next time I wouldn¡¯t have to travel to reach the front lines at all.¡± Syluv hummed a quiet assent as she concluded the massage and walked forward to stand next to her. ¡°You are like the Rozenov Cactus Rose, Princess.¡± Ahzi blinked and tried to parse that statement before retorting: ¡°Dangerous to her enemies yet beautiful all the same?¡± Ahzi turned and favored Syluv with direct eye contact. Usually, Syluv¡¯s features were locked into one of professional nonchalance, but when they were alone it crept towards what Ahzi considered its natural state. Radiant and smiling which, when coupled with her less-than-average height, was quite adorable. It was unusual for a Naula, though that added to the charm in her opinion. Not that Ahzi had ever told that to her face, it would ruin her pride. ¡°Ah, the Princess has such a high opinion of herself. As she should. Alas, I was thinking ¡®prickly¡¯ more than anything else.¡± Syluv¡¯s features took on an impish cast as Ahzi gasped. ¡°Take that back!¡± she demanded and Syluv shook her head and laughed. After a moment, Ahzi joined her. Their laughter was interrupted a few moments later when there was a loud single knock at the door. Ahzi wasn¡¯t surprised, she had felt the presence of their guest approaching for a good while with [One With The Realm]. By the looks of it, Syluv had also intuited that with her own lesser ability. Ahzi smiled sadly at her friend, ¡°Duty calls.¡± She schooled her face and posture into a form more befitting her station. Opposite her, Syluv was doing the same. Becoming her treasured attendant once again. ¡°Let our guest in if you would, Syluv.¡± As she began making her way over to the door of the bedroom, Syluv withdrew a fan from the depths of her [Treasury] and unfolded it in one smooth motion to cover her face. She resumed her previous position by the balcony and gazed off into the distance. The Landship had begun preparations for landing. The door clicked open to admit Moeris, her other attendant. She didn¡¯t need her ability to picture his grim and hard-edged face nor the fact that he had assumed a parade-perfect salute. Such habits were deeply ingrained into the man. ¡°Princess.¡± His voice was as flat and sharp as an unsheathed blade, not that she held it against him. She was pretty sure that he couldn¡¯t help himself. He continued in his customary blunt manner, ¡°We have arrived at the front. You are required.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Ahzi turned, using her fan to shield the lower parts of her face, and kept her eyes forward as if gazing at an unseen horizon. She swept past Moeris into the hallway and her two attendants followed in her wake. ¡°What is on the agenda today, Moeris?¡± She kept up a good pace, passing many portholes and a few workers who were tinkering with various knobs and levers. Without exception, each stood up and gave her a salute, left arm over the chest and one hand behind the back, and gave her their full attention until she was out of sight. ¡°First, we shall visit an infirmary. I am told that the assault last night on this part of the front was especially vicious and they are at capacity. I am sure a visit from you will raise morale amongst the troops.¡± There was the shuffling of paper as Moeris paged through a schedule. ¡°Then, you shall meet with General Omn¨± to discuss the Queen''s orders and your ¡­ place in them.¡± A tinge of disapproval leaked into his voice in that pause, which didn¡¯t surprise her. Moeris was her mother''s creature through and through. ¡°After that, it was left up to your discretion.¡± Ahzi¡¯s step hitched, a crack in her otherwise flawless facade. Fortunately, with her attributes, it would likely be imperceptible to everyone except her attendants. ¡°That¡¯s unusually generous of Mother,¡± she said carefully. By this point, they had reached the staircase to the top deck and began to ascend. ¡°Would you have followed them if they didn¡¯t send you to the front lines?¡± She stayed quiet and Moeris seemed to take it as a tacit emission and continued, ¡°Consider it a test of your judgment.¡± Or she was just tired of me disobeying her orders so publicly, Ahzi mused. Either way, it was a welcome reprieve. ¡°I shall endeavor to make the Queen proud,¡± she said carefully. She could have sworn she heard a snort from Moeris¡¯s direction but subsequent scanning of his visage revealed nothing. She must have imagined that, as she had never seen him crack even a smile. She stopped at the top of the ramp for a moment and surveyed her surroundings. The dock had been built into the side of an artificial dirt mound that was large enough that it offered complete protection to its inhabitants from stray shots. Aside from that, it just was an open dirt field where the Landships could set down. Theirs was not the only Landship docked, though it certainly was the largest. There were about half a dozen others. All except for one were cargo haulers and that one exception was a sleek courier craft. None looked in great condition, all had rends in the plating that had been patched over with scrap metal and one even had its wind manifold in pieces. As for the camp, it looked much the same as it always did. Row upon and row of tents, once dyed in the heraldry of Verune and now too travel worn to tell. Around its perimeter stood a twenty-foot-tall transmuted stone wall, as per military code. In the distance, she could smell the scent of freshly spilled blood and, much closer, the rusty stench of old wounds paired with the acrid tinge of herbs. Following her nose, she saw an especially large tent from which she could see green-robed healers entering and exiting. That would likely be the aforementioned infirmary. Well, best to get this over with. The crew had already lowered the ramp, as they were well familiar with her desire for haste. A greeting contingent had gathered at the bottom and Ahzi moved to meet them. All saluted and one well-dressed young woman, her livery indicated that she was a Major, stepped forward. ¡°First Princess Ahzi, it is our ¡ª¡± She cut the woman off with one raised hand, then waved the greeting party to the side. ¡°Walk with me,¡± she commanded and waited for them to file behind her before setting off for the healer''s tent. ¡°Except you,¡± Azhi said while inclining her fan at the representative and then waited for the women to hasten beside her. ¡°Major?¡± She trailed off questioningly. ¡°Sovah Tal, your majesty.¡± Said the Major, taking a place just to her side and slightly behind. ¡°Major Tal, brief me on the current conditions at the front.¡± There was a pause and Ahzi could see indecision peaking through cracks in the women''s front as she visibly contemplated how to respond. ¡°Your Highness, I am sure that General Omn¨± could provide a much better ¡ª¡± ¡°But I do not want General Omn¨±''s opinion, I want yours. Give it to me straight soldier.¡± Her commanding tone seemed to strike a chord in Tal, who seemed to give the question some genuine thought. ¡°It¡¯s bad, your Highness,¡± she said quietly. ¡°We¡¯ve been losing ground every day, there are no mid-ranks left, and our remaining high ranks are forced to fight defensively. After all, if we lose another ¡­¡± Major Tal trailed off and gave her a meaningful look. Ahzi hummed to herself as she considered her words. It was about what she expected, though some weak part of her had hoped that things had changed since her departure. It was the crux of the issue and none save her, the Queen, and the common soldiery seemed to acknowledge it. Azhi had some ideas about how to alleviate the issue, but General Omn¨± refused to even see the problem. If it wasn''t for the man''s other skills and his class, then she would have demanded he be removed. Seeing the healer''s tent approaching, Ahzi decided she should probably focus on her immediate task. She spread her enhanced senses into the tent and was immediately shocked at what she had found inside. It was just about bursting with patients, far more than she had ever seen in her time at the front. It wasn''t just the number of wounded that was unusual, but the degree. Amputated limbs were common, and some more resembled tallow candles than anything human. ¡°Just what happened in the attack last night?¡± Ahzi demanded and then reproached herself as Major Tal paled. She reigned in the effects of [Voice of the Empire], but it was too late and words began flowing out of the women. ¡°It was unlike anything I¡¯ve ever seen Princess. The number of Synergic spells that night,¡± the major shook her head, an expression of genuine amazement passing over it. ¡°It just about turned night into day. The amount of mana that must have been used ¡­ well it''s safe to say that the Ahsmati won''t put on a show like that for a while. It certainly drained our mages. Why they were just about throwing themselves at us! They wouldn¡¯t back ¡ª¡± ¡°Stop. You are babbling Major.¡± This time Ahzi intentionally put some power into her voice and the Major''s jaw froze mid-speech. Mother would be disappointed in me. Major Tal found her voice again and said, ¡°I am so sorry Princess, I ¡ª¡± ¡°Do not worry yourself about it,¡± she commanded and the Major nodded, then fell silent. By this point, they had reached the tent and a pair of guards at the entrance lifted the flap. Sensing the condition of those inside through a skill was one thing, but seeing them with her own eyes was quite another. There was a constant chorus of pained groans, the reek of sweat and blood, and the occasional glow of healing magic. Noise which quieted down as all eyes found her. 9 - Chance Encounter, Part 2 Ahzi reached for [Light of the Empire] and lit up with a brilliant internal glow. Ghostly white flames enveloped her form, then reached for those closest to her. The soldiers looked upon her reverently, unmoving, and so they were engulfed in the flame. Each conflagration was short-lived and after the flames extinguished was left flawless skin. Burns turned a healthy pink, gashes that showed bone closed, and the amputated limbs became seamless stubs. The last always filled her with a profound sense of sorrow, that she could not heal what was already gone. As she walked stately down the improvised lanes of the tent, Moeris drew close and murmured quietly enough that only someone with her senses could hear: ¡°Is this wise Princess? To weaken yourself so close to the battlefield?¡± Ahzi arched one eyebrow from behind her fan and replied just as silently, ¡°I shall be fully recovered long before even my meeting with Omn¨±.¡± She could feel Moeris wringing his hands, ¡°But, this leaves you vulnerable and if there are any ¡ª¡± ¡°But nothing Moeris,¡± she interrupted before the man could work himself up. ¡°We are in the middle of a war, in case you have forgotten. One we are losing. Risks must be taken and this one is small enough for the reward. Just look at the faces around us.¡± Where once there had been nothing but despondency in the eyes of the wounded now burned an intense zeal. Many gripped their weapons tightly and some tried to rise, only stopped by weary healers. Ahzi did not doubt that when they returned to the front, they would tell tales of what had happened here. ¡°Princess, General Omn¨± has requested you give a Circlet to the heavily injured soldier on your left.¡± Morris''s murmured voice reached her again and she sensed the Circlet being pressed into her hands, which she took gracefully. He continued while stepping back, ¡°She was the first to raise the alarm that the assault had begun and she suffered greatly for it.¡± Ahzi spotted the soldier, who was missing both of his legs and one eye ¡ª perhaps the most injured woman she had seen yet. None of which her flames cured, though they healed what would have otherwise taken months. Which is not to say that it would be impossible to heal such wounds, such medicine was scarce. She turned her attention inwards and queried [One with the Realm]. Corporal Raun Idress, guilty of one count of sleeping on duty, It whispered to Ahzi in her voice. She suppressed a shudder. She had always found the emotionless replica unnerving. Apparently that last infraction had been forgiven in light of this achievement, which Ahzi quite agreed with. Ahzi stopped their party in front of the soldiers'' cot and turned to face her. She favored the woman with a direct look, causing a sharp intake of breath and paleness from the soldier. The poor woman looked about ready to faint. ¡°Corporal Raun Idress,¡± Ahzi spoke with a commanding tone that carried to all corners of the tent, despite seeming to only be spoken at normal volume, ¡°The Empire has seen your exceptional sacrifice in the face of impossible odds. You are to be rewarded with the Os¨¡zi Circlet.¡± Ahzi took pleasure in seeing the woman''s guard drop and be replaced with wonder. It was moments like this that she looked forward to. It was a shame that they were few and far between. Moeris always made sure to set such occasions up when she visited the soldiery. For all of his flaws, he had always been thoughtful. Ahzi snapped the fan shut, allowing the woman an unobstructed view of her visage, and then presented her with the Circlet. Corporal Raun took it with trembling hands and then gave a salute the best she could from a resting position. Given the beaming look on her face, and the envious looks from her fellow soldiers, Ahzi counted this particular ploy as successful. ¡°I shall endeavor to prove myself worthy of this honor, your Highness!¡± Said the woman with an admirably unwavering voice. ¡°See that you do,¡± stated Ahzi as she snapped the fan open and continued her journey. As Ahzi neared the end of the tent, the drain on [Light of the Empire] fell off and then stopped. It was a welcome reprieve as she was just beginning to feel the effects of mana exhaustion. She was right about to exit the pavilion when she noticed something ¡­ strange. A man had looked away from her. This alone wasn¡¯t suspicious, there were certainly reasons for looking away. They could be doing something vitally important like the medics or simply had made a mistake. It did happen, and Ahzi was always forgiving of such displays. What was unforgivable and noteworthy was doing it twice. Or thrice, she amended, as she watched the man be distracted by the spectral flames playing across his flesh. The more time she spent observing him the more discrepancies she picked out. The cast of his features was foreign, reminding her of a Zalpurian ¡ª though that wasn¡¯t quite right. He was currently hairless, a common symptom at the front, but her enhanced vision was able to pick out stubble which was a matte gold-whitish color that she certainly hadn¡¯t seen before. His posture was all wrong, far too closed off. Ahzi had completely stopped by this point and turned towards the stranger, shielding her eyes with her fan. Her retinue milled behind her and she could feel her attendants exchange worried glances. Before the situation could devolve further, she motioned Major Tal back to her side. Once she had retaken her place by Ahzi¡¯s side, she redirected her finger towards the strange man and asked: ¡°Who is that?¡± The Major followed her finger, blinked at the man, and then a well-hidden look of dawning embarrassment spread across her face. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Ah yes, I meant to discuss that situation with you Princess.¡± Major Tal cleared her throat and then spoke as if reading from a report, ¡°This man was discovered by Corporal Rhea M¨¡no near the heart of yesterday''s battle. He was burned and broken, but enough remained of his clothing to identify it as our uniform. Usually, that would be the end of it, but there is the case of his looks ¡­ and his words.¡± ¡°His words?¡± Ahzi repeated as she led her entourage over. ¡°The Corporal had reported that he was speaking nonsense when she rescued him, but such behavior is not uncommon among the wounded so it wasn¡¯t seen as cause for concern. However, when he awakened he continued to speak his strange tongue. None of our healers here were able to recognize it and some learned their craft as far as Avlend.¡± By this point, their group had reached the man¡¯s cot. For the first time since she had entered the tent, he looked directly into her eyes ¡ª or would have had her fan not been in the way. She was shocked to see that his eyes were green, something that must have been the result of an [Ability] or [Trait]. The stranger looked away a moment later and Ahzi had to discreetly signal Moeris or she sensed he would have struck the man. ¡°Surely there must be theories,¡± Ahzi stated while using her senses to analyze him. The general lack of calluses or scars indicated that he likely lived a life free of labor, which pointed to him being relatively wealthy. On the other hand, he was so scrawny that his ribs were visible and he was quite short to boot. Both of which were general indicators of poverty. His current state of petrification likely meant he was unused to the presence of nobility. ¡°There are two main ones, Princess. The first is simply that he was struck in the head and is quite mad. We get a few such cases each span.¡± Given the clearness she had glimpsed in his gaze as well as the fact that no other symptoms were present, Ahzi doubtful of this one. With her particular attributes, she was rarely ever wrong about things like this. ¡°The other is substantially more fanciful. A teleportation miscast.¡± Sensing perhaps her raised eyebrow, Major Tal hastened to finish. ¡°It may be near unheard of, but sometimes such accidents can safely deposit their target without any accidental ¡­ dismemberment or rearrangements.¡± Well, she could certainly put the second to rest. Ahzi reached once again for [One with the Realm], not expecting a response. However, she was pleasantly surprised when the ability activated. Dante Embry, born in the province of W?l. Wasn¡¯t that a surprise. While it wasn¡¯t quite as informative as the Queens, her skill was never wrong. This ¡®Dante¡¯ was born in the empire, probably descended from immigrants. It would explain the strange language, or perhaps the head injury was responsible after all. The question now is what to do with him? While she was considering the question, Moeris¡¯s voice reached her ears. ¡°Perhaps he could be a spy or saboteur?¡± It wasn¡¯t surprising that Moeris¡¯s thoughts went in that direction, it was his duty as a bodyguard. Though she thought it often made him inflexible as she doubted that any spy would stand out as much as this man had. Any spy worth their salt would do their best to fade into the background and avoid notice. Besides, this man was an open book to her. Either he had no social defenses or he far exceeded her level to fool her to this degree. This is not to say that no such individuals exist in the enemy''s ranks, just that they were exceptionally rare. As it was, Ahzi sensed no malice or deception in his body language, only anxiety and awkwardness. Still ¡­ it was better to be cautious and Ahzi saw no need to take a risk with this stranger. Right before she was about to deliver her verdict, Major Tal spoke up again. ¡°Ah! The reason we thought to bother Your Highness about this is that this man has a Unregistered Ability. Quite an unusual one as well.¡± That brought Ahzi up short. An Unregistered Ability? Why the last time that had happened had been well before she was born. If she remembered her history lessons correctly. Either the conditions to unlock it were extreme ¡­ or it was a high rarity. ¡°Explain.¡± She demanded of Tal who, in response, bent down to pick up a hand of dust under Ahzi¡¯s questioning eye. The Major then cast the dust over the stranger, who flinched and covered his eyes. About a hand''s breadth away from the stranger¡¯s outstretched hands, the dust seemed to strike and coat something invisible mid-air. It contoured around his limbs, almost like he was wearing bulky armor. It reminded her of the spell [Force Armor], though she hadn¡¯t detected any magic around the foreigner. ¡°It seems as if anything that passes within a certain distance of this man¡¯s body is pushed away. It is not a strong repulsion, quite weak in fact, but it was active while he was unconscious. Which was more than a day.¡± ¡°Truly?¡± Ahzi asked, taking note that the sheets he was lying on also had an imprint that was far bigger than his frame. Keeping a spell like that running for that long would drain even her mana pool. Unless the foreigner had a monstrous mana pool, then that meant that this was a [Passive] ability. Which were at minimum [Rare]. ¡°Yes, Your Highness. It is especially impressive given that the healers judge him to be less than level 10, given his natural healing ability and resilience of flesh. I¡¯d say if he advanced some levels and achieved a decent class advancement, he could become a military asset. I certainly wouldn¡¯t mind a Defender with an ability like that in my regiment.¡± Her assessment was similar and that certainly changed things. Before, she would have simply executed the man and been done with it. Sure she would remember his face, she always did, but it was necessary for operational security. But now, he was potentially valuable. Indecision wared within her and she sighed. Ah by the dead gods, why not. It wasn¡¯t like they weren¡¯t going to win this war without a risk or two. This was a minor one all things considered. She turned to her retinue and stated, ¡°It has been revealed to me that this stranger, Dante Embry, is a citizen of our great Empire. Whether or not he was part of our military in the past, it remains his duty to defend his homeland. Moeris, ensure that he is properly enlisted. If I recall, it was a certain Corporal Rhea M¨¡no who found him? In that case, she shall assume responsibility. Put him underneath her command and impress upon her my personal interest in this case.¡± Moeris stiffly saluted, ¡°As you order, Princess.¡± Then he turned around distributing orders to Major Tal and the other underlings. Soon, runners were dispatched. With one last glance at the man whose fate she just ordained, she turned to leave. Ahzi turned her mind towards her upcoming meeting with General Omn¨±. Before she had even left the tent, she had put the strange man out of her mind. In all likelihood, she would never see him again. 10 - Hope is Fragile, Part 1 Dante let loose a huge sigh of relief as that imposing woman left the tent and realized he was soaked in sweat. It had taken all he had just to breathe. There had been this awful presence that had grown stronger the closer she moved to him. It was the same feeling that one gets when they are in a place of history: imperious and demanding of respect. It had made him feel very small, which was not helped given that he had woken up wearing no clothes. When she had been standing in front of him, Dante felt like he would do anything if she ordered it. A small mercy then that he had not understood anything she said or any speech at all in this land. He was not the only one who felt that way, he was sure. The looks that the other wounded had given her ¡­ like a god had descended from above. He had to admit, the whole persona with the gleaming light and the ethereal flames was deserving of such awe. The way that she had been dressed was quite peculiar as well. The golden chest piece, bracers, and greaves had looked practical enough if ornate. A look that was entirely thrown off by a long segmented skirt and sleeves that wouldn¡¯t look out of place in a ballroom. When paired with that large bladed fan that she had used to hide her face, it was quite fantastical. There was also that black emblem she wore of a pair of eyes with an additional third eye on the forehead. It had been impossible to miss as it had been everywhere on her regalia. On the chest armor, the guard of her sword, and on the fan. It gave him the impression of being watched constantly. Which begged the question, who was she? She seemed important. Why had she been so interested in him? The only thing that came to mind was that he was now a human-shaped magnet. Dante brushed at the last few sand grains that were currently hovering above his lap and they pushed aside before his hand even touched them. Why else would that one soldier have thrown that sand at him? It was either that or pocket sand was a greeting here. Dante didn¡¯t have much confidence in the second one. Is this power really that notable? Dante idly waved his hand across his sheets and watched as the folds of the blanket writhed beneath his hands. Then, he lowered a stationary hand towards the cot and watched as a faint oversized handprint depressed the sheets. He could be wrong, especially since that damned [Status] was no help, but he thought that [Warding Flesh] was the likely culprit. Best he could tell, it seemed to push things away from him once it reached a certain distance away from his skin. Which seemed good on the face of it. There was just one problem. Dante picked up a small pebble from the blankets that he had been messing with earlier. He was careful to approach it from above so it didn¡¯t move out of his reach like the last few attempts. Then, he positioned it about a foot above his open palm and released it. It fell like expected until it was about two inches from his palm. It was nearly imperceptible, but the pebble did slow a fraction before landing on his hand with a faint plop. Yep, still can¡¯t even stop a pebble. The skill was level 4 and it couldn¡¯t even do that. Dante hoped that it got better at higher levels because currently, he couldn¡¯t see this being helpful ever. At least it¡¯s more visible than some of my other abilities. I still have no idea if [Sharpen Senses] or [Split Second Reactions] are helping. As for [Chameleon] ¡­ it¡¯s not much better. Despite his thoughts, Dante felt a small grin play across his features as he continued to mess with the sheets. He had done it! He was using actual magic. Even if it was weak, it was his. It was surreal, a dream come true. This was just his second day here, who knew what wonders he would witness once he left this accursed battlefield? It wasn¡¯t even the only miracle that he had witnessed tonight. Dante inspected his bandaged arm and lifted a patch to look at the skin beneath. Flawless pink and healthy skin greet his eyes, to his relief. Before, it had been raw, yellowed, and bloody but still a far sight from what he had expected given the injuries he remembered. Whatever treatment he had received while unconscious was miraculous enough, but the healing flames had put it to shame. They had wiped all of his remaining injuries away with a feeling like a warm hug. Looking around, he saw healers unwinding other bandages to a similar effect. That woman had healed hundreds by the look of it and she hadn¡¯t looked even slightly strained. I wonder if I will ever be that strong. There was a yawning void within him that hungered for that power. Dante longed to reach that level with every fiber of his being. To be able to decide his fate with impunity. To be free. To go home. To never die again. Dante marinated in that feeling momentarily before sighing wistfully and opening his [Status].
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 2 Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+] Endurance 14 (17) [+]
Charisma 6 [+] Fortitude 15 [+]
Cognition 13 [+] Perception 9 [+]
Constitution 15 [+] Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 Willpower 14 [+]
Skills You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Brawl (Common) 2
Deception (Common) 1
Lock Picking (Uncommon) 4
Logic (Rare) 4
Menial Labor (Common) 3
Sleight of Hand (Uncommon) 1
Stealth (Uncommon) 2
Abilities
Chameleon (Rare) 2
Sharpen Senses (Uncommon) 3
Split Second Reaction (Rare) 3
Warding Flesh (Unique) 4
Traits
Fickle Fate (Unique) MAX
Human Tenacity (Racial) 4
4057
When Dante woke up from his slumber, he was bombarded with messages that informed him that he had progressed in every ability. He had leveled up for the first time! Which, as far as he could tell, had only given him more stat points. Annoyingly, the [Status] still refused to tell him how many. Which was frustrating given how much he had risked for them. Dante began unwinding the blood-stained bandages from his arms and ran one finger over his unblemished skin. Just a short while ago, he had been in crippling pain from near full-body burns. And I was one of the lucky ones. He glanced over at his neighbor, who was missing her right arm. The powers of the healing flames seemed to have their limits. How many times have I nearly died in the last day? At least twice, by his count. Far too many. Things had already spiraled out of his control. Dante needed to leave this literal war front and go as far away as possible. Then, he could figure things out in relative safety. Which brought him to his current problem. Dante glanced over at the nearest doctor, who was a short distance away and was boiling bandages. Almost like she had eyes on the back of her head, the doctor gazed up from her task and met his gaze. Yep, they still had their eye on him. When he had first awoken he had tried to leave the tent and another doctor had been on him before he had even finished rising. That was when he found out a few things. The first was that the doctor had been stronger than her slim frame foretold. Very strong. It had been child¡¯s play for her to force him back down to his cot. Then, she had scolded him in that strange language they spoke. At least, he thought it was a scolding as he couldn¡¯t understand a single word of it. It sounded alien to his ears, but there were a lot of sounds that he associated with English in it. Regardless, it seemed like he was stuck here until he was allowed to leave. Which stung. It seems like here, more than on Earth, power was what mattered. It¡¯s just more literal here. If I was just stronger, then I could have forced my way past the doctor ¡­ Though the rest of the camp would be a greater challenge. Dante scowled. It was the principle of it that mattered anyway. Which reminded him ¡­ Just what am I going to spend the new attribute points on? It was different from when Dante was in the void. He was relatively safe now and had some sense of the situation, though his future remained uncertain. He might as well experiment a little and get some sense of what the attributes did. Alternatively, he could wait until someone could teach him. However, not speaking the local tongue was a huge barrier to that. Dante had no idea how long it would take to learn. Weeks, months, or maybe even a year? There was no guarantee that anyone would tell him either. Nope, it¡¯s better to confirm it for myself. So which one should he test first? He was likely going to put at least a point in all the attributes eventually so that he wouldn¡¯t be too unbalanced. The attribute that first came to mind was strength. It would be simple to see if he got any stronger. Besides, being physically stronger was something that all men wanted, him included. He poked one finger at his visible ribs. Especially me. Dante had never had the time to workout in the past. Or the diet, protein was expensive. Dante stiffened as a thought struck him, one that could change everything. Wait just a minute ¡­ can¡¯t I just increase strength normally? No matter how hard he tried, he could never have superhuman strength like that doctor. It should be a simple matter to get to the same level as a normal person. Or perhaps he could get superhuman strength just by working out, it was a new world. Who knew what was possible? For that matter, it seemed like this should also be true for at least endurance and probably dexterity. Until I figure this out, I probably shouldn¡¯t increase any of those attributes. So he should probably experiment on something that definitely could be increased naturally ¡­ like fortitude. It wasn¡¯t like you could train your body to be harder to hurt. Besides, he could always use more fortitude in his current situation. Now the only question is how do I tell what fortitude affects? Before Dante could think much more about it, a shadow fell over him and he looked up to see a soldier looming over him. ¡®Loom¡¯ might have been an insufficient word after second thought, towered would have been more fitting. Dante was not tall by any measure, but he would barely reach this man¡¯s navel. Furthermore, he looked like a bodybuilder who was taking way too many steroids. A feature only highlighted by the fact that the man wasn¡¯t wearing a shirt. It was so absurd that he doubted that the soldier was entirely human. While Dante was gawking at him, the giant threw a bundle of something near his feet. Looking down, he saw that they were a change of clothes. He sorted through them to reveal a shirt that was baggy around the sleeves and pants that flared so sharply around the ankles that they resembled a segmented skirt more than anything. Both were an ugly dark brown color that he was quite familiar with. From the looks of it, this appeared to be the same uniform that everyone except the healers was wearing. ¡°Ah, thanks?¡± Dante said, taking the clothes and holding them to his bare chest. A few awkward beats passed where they stared at each other and he added, ¡°Was there something else?¡± The giant growled, a deep sound that sounded more akin to a lion than anything, and Dante flinched. ¡°Paunuh mea rep''ul¨©,¡± said the man. Then, he pointed at the clothes and then again at Dante. ¡°I am sorry, I don¡¯t know what you are saying.¡± Dante hoped that something in his tone would get through to the man. He only received another growl for his efforts and the giant stepped towards him and yanked the shirt out of his hands. It was only after the giant tried to pull the shirt over his head that Dante finally got what he wanted. ¡°Stopstopstop! Powa me repoolee!¡± Dante threw up his hands and something in his tone must have translated as the giant paused. ¡°I understand! See?¡± Dante pulled what he thought was meant to be underwear, though it was longer than he was used to, under his blankets and pulled them on. Then, he held up his hands to show they were empty. The giant grumbled, a sound like grinding boulders, and relinquished the shirt back to him. Dante hurriedly dressed in the unknown clothes, fumbling for a moment when he realized that they didn¡¯t have any buttons or zippers. Everything was meant to be tied and he didn¡¯t know any knots. It didn¡¯t help that the giant maintained a vigil at the foot of his bed while giving him a side-eye. The instant that he was finished, the giant barked some more incomprehensible words at him. When Dante gave him a blank stare, the man pointed at him and then to the ground in front of the bed. This time Dante hastened to follow his orders, having no desire to be manhandled again. ¡°You don¡¯t have to be so rude,¡± Dante grumbled as the giant began walking towards the tent''s exit then looked over his shoulder at him. Once he ensured that Dante was following him, he led Dante out of the tent. 11 - Hope is Fragile, Part 2 Row upon row of tents greeted them outside. It was hard to see far as though the rain had finally stopped it was still quite foggy. The camp appeared extensive, he could not see an end to the tents in any direction. It had a worn feel to it, many of the tents were more patch than the original cloth and the ruts in the road were so deep that wood planks had been laid atop. The same went for the soldiers who occupied the camp. Scars were quite common and many had a distant look in their eyes. It made for quite a dismal picture. As if I needed more reasons to leave. This is just depressing. There was a barked word from behind him and Dante realized he was blocking the tent entrance. Muttering a quick, ¡°sorry¡±, he hastened after the giant. He had to dodge around a few women as he did so, but he hurried over to where the giant was waiting. I can¡¯t keep just referring to this guy as ¡®the giant¡¯ and I can¡¯t just ask for his name. From now on I will call him Jack, short for Jackass, on account of his winning personality. ¡®Jack¡¯ glowered at him while he approached, the picture of impatience. When Dante had reached his side, he was startled when Jack placed one large mitt over one of his shoulders. His fingers dig into Dante¡¯s flesh like talons. ¡°The hell?¡± Dante attempted to pull away, but It was no use. Jack¡¯s hands might have well been made of steel for how little they budged. Any further attempts were put on hold as Jack began moving, tugging Dante along like he was an unruly toddler. Dante took a deep breath and tried to suppress a flare of anger. What was it with people trying to touch me recently? Dante suddenly realized that they were attracting a lot of curious looks, most of which seemed to be directed at him. He felt his face flush and he stopped fighting, instead focusing on trying to match his Jailors'' much longer stride. However, the gazes did not abate. Even when they had moved far enough along that they were surrounded by entirely new people. Do I stand out that badly? I mean, they look strange to me so it must work the other way around too huh? He thought eyeing one woman who had hair that was such a deep purple that it approached black. Red eyes gleamed at him through the slate in one soldier''s helm and one woman had hair that looked like spun silver. Something about the crowd''s makeup bothered him. He did a quick head count, just to be sure. Yep, now I am certain. There are way more women here than. It¡¯s something like a 3 to 1 ratio. Dante wasn¡¯t sure what to make of that, but it had to be important. Something cultural perhaps? Like some Amazonian thing? Though some of the men he had spotted had been in command positions, like that one grizzled veteran who had been with that terrifying woman. Maybe these people are matriarchal? Everything here was so strange and different that Dante questioned every little thing he did. Should I be greeting people a certain way? Have I done anything rude? Am I expected to do things because I am a man? There was no way of knowing and he was probably going to step on some toes no matter how hard he tried. He should probably keep his eyes down and do his best to fall by the wayside until he had some idea of what was going on. Dante had stopped paying attention to the road, trusting Jack to guide him. It came as a surprise then, when an armored gauntlet entered his field of view and shoved him. Hard. If it had not been for Jack''s grip, he likely would have flown backward and landed flat on his back. As it was, he had all of his breath knocked out of him. Wheezing for air, he sagged in Jack¡¯s grip. When he regained his bearings, he looked up to see Jack and some unknown armored woman engaged in a furious argument. The woman, who seemed enraged, was currently jabbing a finger at Dante while Jack had his unburdened hand up in a placating gesture and was speaking in a soft tone. Shit! What was that? Did I do something? Dante raked his memory for a reason but couldn¡¯t think of anything that he had done that could have resulted in this. Well, it wouldn¡¯t hurt to apologize anyway. I do not want to get on the bad side of anyone who can punch like that. ¡°I am sorry? I have no idea what I did, but I apologize for it.¡± Surprisingly, that did seem to do the trick. The furious women fell silent and Jack seized the opportunity to explain something to her. She nodded along as he pointed first at Dante¡¯s hair, then at his eyes. Ah, so those are what were what was standing out. Come to think of it, he hadn¡¯t seen anyone yet with blonde hair or green eyes. The conversation between Jack and the soldier women seemed to be winding down. Jack seemed to finish a point and the woman sniffed, raised her chin high, and marched away. Leaving Dante still rather confused. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. He realized that during that entire exchange, neither of them had so much as looked at him. Not that he had much time to dwell on it for the moment, as Jack resumed their march but even faster now. Dante had to almost jog to keep up. Fortunately for his recovering lungs, their journey soon came to an end when they approached an open-sided cart that was burdened with many crates and bags. Balancing rather precariously on the cargo, were three women and one man. They turned unfriendly looks towards Dante and Jack, which lingered on him. They were a motley bunch, with patched uniforms and unwashed hair. Every single one of them had a grievous injury of some kind. Missing limbs were common and one poor sop had a bandage over both their eyes. As soon as Dante laid eyes on the cart and its occupants all tension drained out of him and he sighed in relief. With how I was being treated I thought I might be going to a prison or ¡­ to an execution. He swallowed dryly at the thought. I still might end up in a cell, but at least it won¡¯t be here. With luck, we are going to a hospital. His mood much improved, he barely minded when Jack lifted him into the cart and onto a crate like a mother cat with its kitten. It was a close fit and he was squashed right up against the blind woman on one side and a person-sized sack of grain on the other. Jack climbed into a seat directly opposite him and finally released his grip on Dante''s shoulder. This was immediately followed by a pins and needle sensation and he began to massage blood back into the area. Did he really have to grab on so tight? I think it might bruise. Jack called something to the driver and there was a lurch as the wagon began moving. It was much more intense than Dante expected and he had to grab at the wagon¡¯s rail to avoid falling off. They soon accelerated to an uncomfortable speed, especially given that the wagon seemed to transmit every bump in the road directly to his rear. Wincing, he craned his neck to gaze around the luggage and see what was pulling this thing. He wasn¡¯t sure what he was expecting, but a massive six-legged lizard the size of a minivan was not it. It didn¡¯t look quite like any lizard he was familiar with as it had tufts of brilliantly colored feathers at its joints and a large fan across its spine. As if sensing his gaze, the creature twisted its head on a long sinuous neck and looked directly into his eyes. It had flat irises and had a vacuous gaze much like a cow. A large tongue snaked out of its mouth and wiped one eyeball the size of a soccer ball. It had on a saddle and bridle from which reins extended to a woman at the front of the wagon. Her attire mirrored her charge, incorporating armor made from a scaled hide and feathers for decoration. She held a many-tongued whip in her hand which she used to lash the side of the beast. It didn¡¯t seem to bother the lizard and, after a moment, it turned in the same direction as the lash. Dante slowly leaned back around to his original position and resolved to stay near the back of the cart. Everything in this land is bizarre. Nothing seems to make sense. Dante felt unmoored. So many extraordinary things had happened that he was having difficulty processing it all. In the short time he had been here he had been thrust into what was basically magic World War I, nearly died, then had witnessed a healing miracle. He desperately needed some time to absorb all that had happened. I hope we are going to a city. While he would still be a stranger in a strange land in such a place, at least he wouldn¡¯t have to fear indiscriminate death. Besides, Dante was sure that there was something in his modern knowledge that he could leverage to make a living. Feeling a little reassured, he settled against the crate and resolved himself for a long trip. The others in the cart seemed to have no desire to make conversation and he was content in the silence. Jack was dangling his feet over the back of the cart and had taken to sharpening his sword. It was a massive slab of iron, easily longer than Dante was tall, and it made him more than a little nervous to be within a few feet of it. Nevertheless, eventually exhaustion had caught up to him and Dante began to drowse off. Through half-lidded eyes, he spotted something in the sky. He reluctantly opened his eyes and squinted, trying to bring it into focus There was something up there. Something big, iridescent, and glowing. The barrier. Once again he marveled at the size of the thing, though the intricacy was also astounding. It seemed like every time he looked at it he noticed another detail. Now that he was on the inside, he was able there see a detailed tapestry of threads that stretched from runic diagram to diagram. While it was beautiful, he couldn¡¯t shake an uneasy feeling in his gut. Something is off. Dante tried to find the source of that sensation as the barrier grew clearer, emerging from the fog. Why does seeing this make me so uneasy? Maybe because it is connected to the same battlefield where I nearly died? That could be it, such an experience would probably forever taint his experience of magic. But why can I smell that awful stench of rot and death again? He frowned, wrinkling his nose. It was significantly more intense than he expected. Almost as if ¡­ He bolted upright and stared hard at the road before them. Slowly emerging from the mist was a row of trenches, much more complete than the ones he remembered. They teamed with soldiers and, even as he watched, injured shuffled out of the trench to a group that was waiting for them. Nonono, this can¡¯t be happening! Why would they ever send maimed soldiers back to the front? Dante shook his head violently. It doesn¡¯t matter, I have to leave. Now. He turned, preparing to jump off the cart and make a break for it when he caught Jack''s eye. For the first time since they met, the man was staring straight at him. It was the type of look you would give a disobedient dog when it pissed on the carpet. He noticed that the giant had one hand on his sword¡¯s hilt. A ray of light caught the razor-sharp edge as the pair considered each other. Ah, so that¡¯s how it is. 12 - The Front, Part 1 Dante followed Jack in a daze. Once again, the man clamped one giant hand over his shoulder and pulled him along. His heart beat in his chest like a bird in an upended cage. This can¡¯t be happening! What did I do to deserve this? I committed no crime. What kind of people would force an innocent into the front lines of a war? The answer presented itself to him as he looked back to see his fellow passengers shuffle off into other trenches with a variety of gaits. And in one case, carried. The same monsters who would see them return to the front lines. He was so distracted by rapid-fire thoughts that he almost didn''t notice that these trenches were different from the one he had hidden in. For one, it led underground and appeared formed full form from the living stone. Pipes of varying sizes and materials ran along the sides of the tunnel. Which was impressive given that the trench was nearly five times wider at this point. Space that was desperately needed as it was crowded by soldiers hurrying to and fro, oftentimes burdened with crates or sacks. It was lit by lanterns which cast a warm reddish glow, which gave everything a slightly sinister cast. I may have underestimated their technology, some of this looks complicated. He would have loved to inspect it longer, but he was ... distracted. Dante managed to leave a small trail of gawkers as some of the soldiers stopped and inspected him as if he were some strange animal that wandered into their midst. It was uncomfortable and he struggled not to feel self-conscious. He certainly wasn''t at his best. Though neither are they, he thought, wrinkling his nose. The whole place stunk of sweat and waste. This is going to become a regular thing, isn¡¯t it? That was a rather distressing proposition. In the types of places that he had lived, catching this much notice meant that you were someone¡¯s mark. It was also a matter of personal preference, he preferred to be in the background. Perhaps I can find some hair dye? I am almost certain that they don¡¯t have contacts, but I wasn¡¯t planning on looking at anyone anyway. As he was pondering the problem, they began to pass side passages that lead to large chambers of varying shapes and purposes. He saw dormitories, mess halls, and even an open-air park. It was extensive and he was wondering just how many people lived here when his attention was diverted by one room that was markedly different from the others. From that room, poured out a veritable rainbow of light and he felt an odd pressure emanating from it. It was similar to what the women had projected but weaker and less imperious. If Dante had to give a comparison, it would be like the difference between being crushed in a giant''s hand versus sitting underneath a waterfall. It was a matter of ... intent? As they walked past the room''s entrance Dante peaked inside inside to see were nine robed and hooded figures positioned equidistance around a circle. Between them was a mess of multicolored threads splayed in three dimensions. In the middle of the room, all of the threads over together to form a familiar pillar of light. That was all he had time to observe before he was whisked away. So this is where the barrier is created. Well, at least one of many. If he recalled, there were at least hundreds of strands involved. This must be some kind of support or staging area. Now this would be a zone I wouldn¡¯t mind staying in. Alas, that hope seemed to be for naught as ahead of them the tunnel ended and the pair passed back into the open to a more familiar sight. It was similar to the first trench Dante had sheltered in, though still wider than what he remembered. The crowd thinned substantially here and those that were around seemed ... more of a scholarly sort. They wore white robes and seemed to bear no burdens aside from small knapsacks or books. Off in the distance, he could hear a strange sound. First, there was a ground-shaking THRUM followed an instant later by a crack that was not dissimilar to the sound of a gunshot but far more ¡­ weighty. Dante flinched and nearly dove for the ground but when he looked around no one else seemed concerned. Barely half a minute later it happened again, louder this time and he had to clap his hands over his ears. This helped a bit for the next one. I guess this is a regular occurrence around here? Whatever it is, it doesn¡¯t seem dangerous at least. In a semi-regular rhythm, the noise would repeat at varying volumes. Sometimes it was a whisper and other times it was like before. He was a little concerned because the noisier ones were getting even louder. Also, he swore that he could feel a breeze every time the noise occurred. Dante waited for the next occurrence and when it happened he focused on the wind. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. There it was! There had been a definite movement in the air almost as if something has sucked the air forward. What all of this meant? He had no idea. I am sure it is caused by magic and it¡¯s likely on these people¡¯s side. They turned down a smaller corridor, barely enough space for two to walk side by side. They traveled down that for some time and the mysterious sound was getting quieter again, though it never quite faded away. Eventually, they reached trenches that were identical to those he had traveled before. His pulse quickened and he focused on taking calming breaths. Save for the fact that they were full of people now. They were widely spaced, perhaps one soldier every dozen paces. They wielded a truly diverse range of arms and armor, some of which he recognized and some he didn¡¯t. He even saw one man wielding a pitchfork. The only commonality between them was that they all wore the same base uniform that he was currently wearing. Occasionally, one of them would step up to the fire step and lose some manner of ranged weaponry through the machicolations at some target out of sight. Invariably, another soldier would step up next to them wielding a shield and looking poised to act. The atmosphere here was different from the previous two trench lines. Strained, like a thread about to be cut. There was no laughter or talk to be heard here. Dante kept looking up into the clouds, trying to see if he could see any of the volatile spells that nearly killed him the last time he was here. Fortunately, he saw no sign of anything like that. Perhaps they only used them during pitched battles? Jack continued to lead Dante on and he wondered just where there was left to go. Certainly not the no man''s land itself? Right as that thought crossed his mind, Jack suddenly stopped and Dante nearly ran into him. ¡°You are seriously living up to your name Jack ¡­¡± he mumbled and looked up. He froze as he saw a familiar figure facing away from them. Pitch black armor that seemed to consume all light save for the pinpricks of light that resided in its depths, an oversized tower shield, and a blade that nearly appeared like a missing chunk of the world. An ominous figure taken together. However, to him, it was the form of his savior. Finally, some luck! If I am meant to brave the depths of this hell, it might as well be with them. Jack cleared his throat, a sound that somehow managed to be heard over the constant din, and the night-cloaked warrior turned to face them. Their gaze flicked over to him, but Dante saw no recognition in those ruby eyes. On the other hand, they seemed to brighten up when they caught sight of Jack. Of course, they did. Dante tried not to sulk as the pair chatted amicably. At least he had determined the gender of his savior, as the voice that came out of the armor was decidedly female. It was a strong, authoritative voice that he could tell was the result of many hours barking orders. Eventually, Jack gestured at him, said something, and then the warrior went silent. The next she spoke, it was with furious heat and Dante¡¯s stomach dropped. The argument raged for a while, with Jack remaining cold and the woman growing increasingly angry. Eventually, the dispute seemed to reach a peak. The woman spit one last furious retort, threw up her hands, and stalked away. Thanks Jack, that went well. Just when I was hoping that I would find one friendly face in this land. Dante stumbled as he was shoved forward and he turned his furious gaze back on the perpetrator. Jack simply inclined his chin towards the retreating woman. He got the message. What is it with everyone getting physical with me? Do I just have some sort of sign on me that screams ¡®Abuse me¡¯ or something? He hastened to catch up to the woman and fell alongside her. She didn¡¯t even acknowledge him. Jack may have messed things up, but that didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t try to fix it. Since they couldn¡¯t understand each other he should try and keep it simple. ¡°Umm, hi?¡± No response. ¡°My name is Dante,¡± He pointed at himself, ¡°Dante.¡± Still nothing, but he couldn''t quit now. He pointed at her. ¡°Name?¡± Silence fell between them he was about to give up when she finally spoke up in a terse tone. ¡°S¨±nva M¨¡no¡± Well, at least that wasn¡¯t a complete failure. S¨±nva M¨¡no huh? I owe a debt to you and I always pay back my debts. S¨±nva stopped and picked up something that was lying against the trench wall, then turned and pressed it against his chest. He looked down to see that it was a wooden shovel. When he looked back he saw that she had walked over to one of the regular short-length trenches and was gesturing for him to follow. When he had, he saw that it was mostly filled with mud and rubble. One other man was digging there and he was depositing the dirt in a hand-drawn cart. She pointed at that man, then Dante, and then mimed digging. He nodded, that was easy to interpret. Well, might as well get to it. If I show that I am a hard worker then perhaps I might earn some respect or leeway. Dante began striding forward and took a place beside the man, who looked up curiously. Dante gave him a nod and, after gawking at him for a second, the man returned it. It seemed some gestures survived interdimensional travel. Dante let the shovel bite into the dirt and pleasantly noted that it sunk in easily. There was nothing worse than dry and rocky soil when it came to digging. All things considered, I guess this isn¡¯t so bad. Discounting the whole being forced to do this part. He threw a clump of earth over his shoulder into the cart. Can¡¯t mess this up and it¡¯s easy enough work. Dante grunted as he moved a sizable rock. At least no one is trying to kill me. I probably don¡¯t have to worry about food either. Another shovelful. [Menial Labor] has advanced to 4. Well, would you look at that? 13 - The Front, Part 2 Dante couldn¡¯t go any longer. Putting down the shovel, he sat on the step and reached down to grab the waterskin Sv¨­l, his digging companion, had shared with him. Midway reaching down a spasm ran down his back and he groaned. He knuckled the spot. His shirt was soaked through and through with sweat. The tremors ceased and he finished grabbing hold of the water skin, taking a sip of tepid water. Alongside him, Sv¨­l continued digging and seemed no worse for wear considering that they had been at this for many hours. Occasionally a woman would come to collect the dirt and leave them a new, empty cart. He had not gotten a chance to get her name, but aside from that the two of them were alone. Sv¨­l was a machine, seeming no worse for wear, and was still moving at the same speed when they began. Sv¨­l had easily completed thrice the amount of work that he had. He gave Dante a confused look, saw his diminished state, shrugged, and then considered working. Sv¨­l was quickly becoming his favorite person in the new world. He didn¡¯t seem to dislike Dante and what must have been his strange ways, even sharing the water skin and some small bits of bread with him. After exchanging their names, a comfortable silence reigned between them. Most importantly, he had not tried to push or shove Dante. There was one area that he did accel over Sv¨­l. Cleanliness. To be fair to the man, it was because of [Warding Flesh]. The ability refused to let any dust, water, or mud stick to him. It all just wicked off of him, though his sweat remained for some reason. It was almost enough to endear him to the ability. Sv¨­l on the other hand, smelled like he had been in these trenches for a while. As he caught his breath watching the man work, he wondered just how high that man''s [Menial Labor] skill was. Or endurance, he still had no idea how any of that worked. Dante was certain that he was different now, even when he was in construction he had not been able to work without rest for hours. He wasn¡¯t at a superhuman level like Sv¨­l, but peak human wasn¡¯t that far off. Especially considering that the means to achieve that is currently in my hands. Dante opened his [Status].
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 2 Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+] Endurance 14 (17) [+]
Charisma 6 [+] Fortitude 15 [+]
Cognition 13 [+] Perception 9 [+]
Constitution 15 [+] Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 [+] Willpower 14 [+]
Skills
Brawl (Common) 2
Deception (Common) 1
Lock Picking (Uncommon) 4
Logic (Rare) 4
Menial Labor (Common) 4
Sleight of Hand (Uncommon) 1
Stealth (Uncommon) 2
Abilities
Chameleon (Rare) 2
Sharpen Senses (Uncommon) 3
Split Second Reaction (Rare) 3
Warding Flesh (Unique) 4
Traits
Fickle Fate (Unique) MAX
Human Tenacity (Racial) 4
3742
While Dante had been toiling away, he had been considering how to distribute his stats. His top priority was still to find which stat did and if they could improve naturally. Though so far strength hadn¡¯t increased yet, but he was probably being impatient. In an optimal world, he would try to determine if all of them improved through work. This was not an optimal world. First, I should establish a baseline. Dante picked up the shovel again and tested its edge, finding it dull. This is going to hurt a little. He balanced it on its haft, tipped it towards him, and it let go. The shovel impacted against his forearm, blade first, and ¡­ bounced off leaving no mark. There was a mild spike of pain, but not as much as he was expecting. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Huh? Dante pulled back his fist and struck the shovel lightly, then again when there was no pain. It smarted a bit, but he had hit it with some force. I guess I had missed it with all the crazy shit happening, but I am strong now. About to stronger. +1 to Fortitude. Immediately his skin flared with heat and an intense itching began deep in his bones. Caught off guard, he spasmed and just about stayed in his seat. Thankfully the sensation was brief and was soon replaced with a feeling like his entire body had fallen asleep. Dante grimaced as he unflexed his sore muscles. That had not done him any favors. Well, I certainly felt that one. So that¡¯s what increasing an attribute is like when you have a body? Dante was very grateful that he had only chosen to do one at a time. He cast a look at Sv¨­l and was relieved that the man seemed unbothered. A little perturbed too, as Dante felt like he would help someone who looked like they were having a seizure. Perhaps it¡¯s a common occurrence? Well, let¡¯s see if it was worth it. He pinched his skin and was shocked when there was immediate pain. Wait a second. Dante repeated the shovel test and once again there was hardly any pain. If he wasn¡¯t wrong there was less pain this time around. Dante walked over to the yet still buried portion of the trench, shaped his palm into a blade, and pressed it into a relatively solid clump of dirt. His fingers penetrated the earth with barely any discomfort. Withdrawing his hand, he inspected his unharmed fingers. If I am not wrong, fortitude reinforces all parts of my body. That is why the environment doesn¡¯t hurt me where as the pinch does. Because my nails are becoming stronger at the same rate as my skin. Dante sat back down on the shelf and assumed a thinker pose. This means that if I level the stat high enough, then my body could become a weapon. Monk style. That was quite an appealing image, punching through steel while arrows ricocheted off him. Ok, moving on to the next stat. Let¡¯s try Perception. Pretty sure that you can¡¯t train yourself to be more perceptive and I need to upgrade that one anyway. As for the testing ¡­ Dante focused on the great bulwark that constantly shown above. That would do, he always seemed to find another detail every time he looked at it. Here¡¯s to hoping it¡¯s not as bad. +1 to Perception. Pain arched up every single nerve. Lights became blinding, noises overwhelming, and the feel of his clothes was agonizing. When he came to and the world wasn¡¯t so overwhelming, he realized that he had fallen limp against the wall. Right, all senses are connected to perception. Including pain. Good to know. Are all of these attributes going to inflict some fresh new hell on me? Regardless, it was worth it. Dante turned his eyes to the heavens and found everything was just a little clearer. In the magical tapestry above, he could now discern that even smaller threads often broke off from the pillars to form delicate patterns. It was as if he had been wearing out of focus glasses his entire life and had just taken them off. Is this how most people see the world? He had only leveled it up to 10, which was the average. It wasn¡¯t just sight, even the air tasted richer though still ladened with the battlefield stench. The rhythmic booms in the background sounded louder and he heard new depths to the sound. Like a strange THRUMM that followed every instance for a few seconds. Compared to fortitude, it was almost intoxicating. Like seeing an entire new world. It truly felt superhuman. Dante was eager to move to the next one, which was cognition. On Earth it was well documented that, once you were an adult, you could not increase your natural intelligence. Perhaps that rule wouldn¡¯t be so ironclad in this world. It had taken some time to decide how to measure this, but he had settled on seeing if how many numbers he memorized changed. He remembered that one from the time he had taken an IQ test. So he scratched a random sequence of ten numbers in the dirt, gave himself a chance to memorize, marveled at his new senses a bit more, and then checked to see how many he remembered. After doing this a few times, it seemed like he averaged about six correct. Alright, let¡¯s do this. +1 to Cognition. Contrary to his expectations, there was no pain. Instead, his head grew fuzzy and he lost focus on ¡­ well just about everything. He could only relate it to being very drunk. It was not an altogether unpleasant sensation. After it had passed, he didn¡¯t feel any different. So far, I like that one the most. Though, perhaps it was the most subtle change yet. Time to see if I do better at that little test of mine. Dante scratched out the old numbers and wrote himself some new ones, then memorized them. After a couple more rounds, he found that his new score was seven. While that was an improvement, Dante couldn¡¯t help but be a little disappointed. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was due to the attribute increase or if he simply got better at the test. Compared to the other stats the change was much less noticeable. Perhaps I will notice some more improvements later? Dante shrugged and went to move on to the next attribute ¡­ but found that he couldn''t. He was out of attribute points. That was fast! I only got three this time. What happened to the nine from before? Apparently, that had been a one time bonus or the like. Feeling a little ripped off, he grabbed the shovel and stood up. I can¡¯t leave Sv¨­l to finish this by himself. I need at least one friend here. Truthfully, there wasn¡¯t too much left to do. When he had sat down there was about a third left and now it was closer to a quarter. Still, might as well help him finish. Dante let the shovel bite into the soil and began working. As Dante hastened to finish the job, one thing quickly became apparent. He was still very tired. Something is wrong here. I rested for a long time and yet it hardly helped. It¡¯s not been that long since I have done physical labor, so I know for a fact that I should have recovered more. I am missing something here. He did his best to think on the subject but an answer had not presented itself to him by the time they finished. When the last shovelful disappeared into the cart, Dante followed Sv¨­l¡¯s lead and took a seat once again. Before he had a chance to engage him in conversation, Sv¨­l was sound asleep. That is incredible. We are in the middle of a battlefield and he fell asleep. Just like that. Dante had heard stories of soldiers in the United States military doing the same but had never quite believed it. While Dante was physically exhausted, his mind was moving too fast to consider doing the same. Dante had spent enough time in his head and the only other people that he could talk to was a pair of soldiers a couple dozen yards away who looked busy. Even as he watched, one of them stepped up, and an icicle about a yard long formed in the palm of his hand. So quickly he nearly missed it, extended his hand, fired the icicle, and stepped down. What is he firing at? For all that Dante had nearly died at their hands twice, he had not even caught a glimpse of the enemy. Maybe with his new senses, he could catch a glimpse. It would just be a peek. Climbing to his feet, he raised his head to one of the holes in the ramparts. The battlefield was still the devastated wasteland that he remembered, but he was able to see farther due to there being no rain or fog. Dante looked past the cratered landscape and the abandoned trenches to see a series of hills in the distance. On the crest of those hills were a series of enormous blocks that would put those in Stonehenge to shame. He thought he also spotted a few spires in the distance. Something about the entire arrangement bugged him. It was far too regular. Dante squinted his eyes, trying to take in the scene as a whole, and came to a sudden realization. Wait a second, that isn¡¯t a hill. It¡¯s a massive earthen wall! The scale of the entire thing nearly put the barrier to shame. I guess that the other side¡¯s achievements are comparable. It makes sense, they appear to winning. A glint in the distance caught his eye and he focused on it. It was far too bright to be anything natural and reminded him of how a diamond might catch the light. Whatever it is, it must either be enormous or pointed directly at ¡ª Something grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him down so hard he went sprawled to the floor. Dante landed on his back and all breath wooshed out of him. From this position, he had a perfect view of the quivering shaft of a spear that was embedded in the wall of the trench right above him. His cheek felt wet and when he reached a hand up to touch it, it came away bloody. Fuck. That¡¯s three times now. 14 - The Front, Part 3 Dante lay there as chaos broke out around him. He could hear Sv¨­l yelling and suddenly the trench was filled with soldiers. It all happened between blinks, another stark reminder that he was out of his depth. All around him, a barrage of magic and projectiles were being hurtled out of the trench toward the attack. It seemed like he had broken some sort of deadlock. Sv¨­l suddenly loomed over him and offered a hand. When he took it, he was effortlessly hoisted to his feet. Looking around, Dante was afraid to move as soldiers darted from position to position at blinding speeds. When Sv¨­l tugged him out of the fray, he gladly acquiesced. He was led around the bend, where it was relatively peaceful, and then Sv¨­l sat him down on the fire step. Dante grimaced as Sv¨­l began poking at the gash on his cheek but offered no resistance. The ministrations seemed purposeful and he couldn''t summon the will to do anything about it. Instead, he stared back the way they came. He heard renewed shouts, heavy impacts, and the screech of metal on metal. He guessed that the enemy was offering return fire. Even as he watched, there was a scream of pain and an unfortunate woman was pulled out of the fray with a spear through his stomach. That could have been me. Dante realized that his hands were trembling and clenched them together to try and quiet them. One bad decision, one second of indecision was all it would take. Something was waved in front of his face and he looked up to see a tightly rolled leather wad. Dante looked at Sv¨­l and instinctively leaned back when he saw the man was wielding a needle and thread. There was a small knapsack in the man¡¯s lap in which he could spot small flasks, bandages, and thread in it. Some sort of first aid kit he thought. Oh, that¡¯s right. Dante reached and traced around the burning line on his face. He didn¡¯t have a mirror, but it stretched from cheekbone to ear and felt deep. That''s going to need stitches. He grimaced. This is going to hurt a lot, isn¡¯t it? Accepting the leather bundle between his teeth, he closed his eyes and prepared himself. He could hear a ¡®pop¡¯ as Sv¨­l opened a flask and seconds later he clamped his teeth down on the leather bundle as a cold liquid was poured into the wound. Sv¨­l, that bastard, was giving him a generous dosage. A new wave of pain followed afterward, changing from a stinging sensation to an intense burning. It lingered even after the pouring stopped. Before he had time to recover, an iron grip took grabbed his face, holding it steady and pinching the wound closed. A sharp pinprick followed soon after and a whimper would have escaped his lips had his mouth not been filled. One. Another pinprick, a sharp tugging sensation as thread was pulled through flesh. Two. Dante soon lost count, but it was well over a couple dozen stitches. Discounting burning to death, it was one of the more painful experiences of his life and was made worse by its duration. He made sounds during that eternity that he hadn¡¯t known he could make. Of course, Sv¨­l doused the entire area again with the disinfectant, just as that burning sensation had just begun fading. When Sv¨­l let go of his face, Dante opened his eyes to see that the man had soaked a bandage in a red, viscous substance. He layered it over the cut and the bandage stuck on. Dante poked at it and found that it was rapidly solidifying into a firm yet gelatinous film. Sv¨­l slapped his hand away and he decided to leave it alone for now. I guess I am not getting healing magic for every single injury, just the life-threatening ones. He turned his gaze back to Sv¨­l, who had begun packing away his medical supplies. Most injuries must be treated like this. He was no expert on first aid, but Sv¨­l seemed practiced. Definitely a good guy to get to know. ¡°Thank you Sv¨­l, for saving my life and for this.¡± Dante pointed at the bandaged wound. ¡°I don¡¯t know when, but I will return the favor one day. I swear it.¡± Dante bowed his head, hoping that his words and gestures would cross the language barrier. He flinched as he felt a pat on his arm and looked up to see a small smile on Sv¨­l¡¯s face. A wave of relief went through Dante and he he looked away to hide the dampness at the corners of his eyes. He didn¡¯t let them fall, it would be unseemly. Now that he had a quiet moment, he noticed for the first time that he had notifications from the system again. He glanced back at Sv¨­l, who had settled in and seemed content to continue resting on these steps. With a thought, Dante opened them. [Warding Flesh] has advanced to Level 5 [Specializations] are available Level 24 [Ahsmati] has been slain Your Participation: <1% Calculating Experience ... Congratulations! You have advanced to Level 3 That was ¡­ a lot to unpack. Now that he looked back at where he had nearly died, he saw that the soldiers had mostly dispersed. I guess they killed whatever shot at me? What did the system call it ... an Ahsmati? Is that what we are fighting? At least I got something out of that mess. Apparently, being damaged is enough to count as participation. But what is a [Specialization]? If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Burning with curiosity, he opened his [Status] and found that it had a new [Specializations] tab. He focused on it and a new window opened.
Choose a new [Specialization] for [Warding Flesh]
Overloaded Exchange the future.
Maximized Power above all.
Reaching Extend your authority.
Restricted Sacrifice generality.
Polar Wield two aspects.
Dante blinked his eyes and then rubbed at them, not quite believing what he was seeing. I actually got a description for something! He felt an initial surge of excitement which quickly morphed into a frown as he scanned through his options. It¡¯s still so little. What, did they have a word limit of three or something? Still, I suppose I should be grateful to get anything at all. The question is, which do I pick? Dante reached down to pick up a small rock, balanced it in his palm, and then released. It levitated up a few inches above his hand where it remained, rotating with the minute shifts in his hand. He brought it up to eye level, then pushed it down with one finger. Hmm, if I am not mistaken I think it has gotten a little stronger. This rock is heavier than any it was able to lift before and it seems to hover a little higher. He added another rock next to the first, about the size of a chicken egg. It proved to be too much for the ability and began to slowly sink. I suppose that¡¯s the limit for now. I need to start recording these readings, I might be able to figure out how what changes when this ability levels. Even with the upgrade, it still was not the kind of results that Dante to see from his highest leveled ability. At its current state, this ability is nowhere near stopping something like that javelin. I need to pick something that can quickly boost its defensive potential. Dante was about to go through his options when he was distracted by movement from Sv¨­l, who stretched and then stood. Scanning around, he saw that it wasn¡¯t just Sv¨­l who was moving. Where once soldiers were assigned to their positions, there was now a constant circulation through the trenches. Something was happening. He got up, tense creeping back into him, and scanned for any peculiarities. Dante was at least certain that danger was not imminent as all weapons were in their sheaths and people were moving at human-like speeds. He looked to Sv¨­l for direction, who also seemed to be looking for something in the crowd. Moments later, the man brightened and waved to someone in the distance. I guess some gestures truly translate across cultures. Dante turned and looked at what had caught Sv¨­l¡¯s eye. It was a group of three, all carrying shovels or pickaxes and covered in grime. It was composed of one other man and two women, one of whom immediately caught Dante¡¯s eye as she was quite clearly not human. His first thought upon seeing her was elf, but that wasn¡¯t quite right. While she certainly had the long ears ¡ª they must have been almost a foot long ¡ª and the thin frame typically associated with elves, that was where the similarities ended. For one, she had an additional pair of eyes located on the cheekbones. They were much smaller than the main pair and seemed to have the ability to operate independently. Freaky. One of them glanced at him briefly with an orange iris and pupils much like a cats before seemingly dismissing him. What he had first judged as slimness was revealed to be pure muscle paired with no fat, even beyond what you would expect to find on an Olympic athlete. On her cheeks and visible skin, he could see striations that disrupted otherwise flawless skin. They seemed to run parallel to muscle. Despite being about a head shorter than what he judged the average height here, she gave off a dangerous feeling. Almost like a predator in their midst. A feeling that was only reinforced when she greeted Sv¨­l and he saw several sizable canines peak out of her lips. Realizing that he had been staring for quite a while, he adverted his gaze. Which, of course, made her notice Dante. She said something to Sv¨­l and whatever he said back caused her to chuckle. I hope that comment was complimentary. Dante had a feeling he was looking at his future colleagues. After the group had finished their greetings, which mostly consisted of embraces and back slaps, they began to move. Dante trailed along, feeling very much like a third wheel. By this point, evening had turned to twilight and it was growing difficult to see. There were no lights in these trenches, for obvious reasons. Usually, he was blind as a bat in such conditions but, even in this moonless night, he was able to see far better than he expected. While colors were still beyond him, it was easy enough to see the shape of things. He wouldn¡¯t want to run in these conditions, but it was enough that he wouldn¡¯t bump into anything if he took his time. I guess [Enhanced Senses] is doing something. I wonder what I would score on an eye exam now? After a good five minutes or so and many turns which seemed to take them a reasonable distance away from the front, their journey ended in a small circular plaza-like area. It was surrounded by doors that were built straight into the stone. In the middle was a well and several soldiers stood clustered around it, filling their water skins and chatting. Some held bowls that seemed to be full of some kind of stew. A small breeze picked up and blew an appetizing scent towards him. While Dante couldn¡¯t identify any of the scents, it was one of the best things he had smelled in a while. His stomach grumbled and he hoped that they would be eating soon. Sv¨­l led the party to one of the doors and opened it with a key that he produced from one of his many pockets. He opened the door and inside was a small room, about the size of an underfunded high school classroom. Along the far side of the room were ten small nooks carved into the wall arrayed in a two-by-five pattern. They were filled with straw and had a few blankets thrown over the top to form a crude mattress. The rest of the room was occupied by tables, benches, and an open fire pit with a chimney above it that led into the ceiling. There was already one woman in the room who was tending to a pot hung over the fire, from which emanated an even more ravishing smell than the stew from before. Dante recognized her, he would never forget that light-devouring armor. It was the soldier who had rescued him from his first near-death experience. She heard the door, turned around, and he got his first look at his savior''s face. 15 - The Front, Part 4 S¨±nva, that was her name! She was older than he expected, maybe mid-thirties, and had red hair that matched her eyes. He noted all of that in the background as his attention was immediately drawn by a brutal scar bisecting one closed eye. It was not her only scar either, just the worst. There were many smaller ones, whisker thin, that crisscrossed her face. Altogether it lent her an intimidating visage. However, when she turned her crimson eye on him, the look was not an unkind one and he thought he saw a flick of recognition. S¨±nva crossed the room in a few strides and stood before him. She looked him up and down, then reached out one arm. Dante hesitated, unsure what to do. It wasn¡¯t quite at the right angle for a handshake but he grabbed it with his hand anyway. The woman raised one scared eyebrow and shifted her grip so that they were clasping forearms. Then, to his utter disbelief, went in for a hug. She even clapped him on the back, as if they were lifelong comrades. This must be a strange cultural thing, like the French and that cheek kiss thing. Right? They withdrew and S¨±nva repeated the gesture with Sv¨­l. This cannot have the same implications as Earth. So shocked was he that he nearly missed when she turned to the rest of the party and pointed at the non-human girl. ¡°Zail vras Pauwna.¡± S¨±nva spoke each word carefully while gazing directly into his eyes, making sure to annunciate. She pointed at the only other man he had not been introduced to, who looked a bit like a rodent, and said. ¡°Zail vras Varvi.¡± She continued down the line, repeating the same phrase with slight variations. I get it. This is their version of ¡®their name is¡¯. So that four-eyed lady is Pauwna and the shrewish man is Varvi. He could feel a smile tugging at his lips. It¡¯s nice of her to try and teach me, no one has even tried that. While he had been puzzling this out, S¨±nva had finished going down the line and he realized that he had forgotten to listen to the other''s names. Shit, well I am sure I can pick up their names later. She was now looking at him expectantly and he realized what she wanted. ¡°Zail vras Dante.¡± A smile touched S¨±nva¡¯s lips and she clapped him on the soldier. Dante fought the urge to shudder. This touching thing is cultural, isn¡¯t it? He couldn¡¯t say he liked that at all. It contributed to a clenched feeling in his chest that had been building up since he came to this world. I just want to be alone and take this in for a while. That didn¡¯t look like it was happening any time soon. Introductions done, the group headed towards the fire pit and Dante trailed behind. They began taking seats and Dante found himself between Sv¨­l and Pauwna, who always seemed to keep one of her three eyes on him. That is more than a little creepy ... S¨±nva retook her position by the pot and began scooping stew into bowls, then handed them out. Iron tankards of something that smelled faintly of alcohol followed. Soon, Dante had a bowl of the same mysterious stew as well as the drink. Peering into the bowl he saw strangely purple chunks of meat, golden grain that looked like oats, and some root vegetable that looked like a bleached carrot. There was a chunk of coarse bread lying on the side, half soaked in the juices. Dante took a cautious sniff. It smelled positively divine, which quashed most misgivings he had about its contents Looking around, he saw that the others were simply taking sips straight from the bowl. Utensils, at least on this war front, did not seem to be a thing. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Hopefully, it''s not poisonous to Earthlings. He closed his eyes and tilted the bowl towards his lips. Nothing touched his lips and he tilted it further to a similar result. He lowered the bowl and squinted at it suspiciously. Is the stew really thick or something? He nudged it with the bread. Nope, seems liquid enough. So what happened? He tried drinking from it again, tipping it very slowly and keeping careful. The stew acted normal right up until it was a couple of inches from his lips, where it stopped as if hitting an unseen barrier. It couldn''t be ¡­ Dante grabbed the cup of mysterious alcohol and tilted it back. Just as before, it stopped right before his lips. This can¡¯t be happening. He tried to quell the rising bile in his throat and took some deep breaths. Surely there must be a solution to this. If only I had silverware! An idea struck him then and he grabbed a piece of the hard bread. He dipped it into the stew and brought it to his lips. To his great relief, despite the bread flexing a little, it worked and he ate of this world''s food for the first time. It was unexpectedly oily, though surprisingly good regardless. It wasn¡¯t grease. If he could compare it to anything, it would be like the fish oil. He could tell that it had not been seasoned, but it was still delicious one of the most delicious things he had ever had. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I guess hunger and narrowly avoided disaster is the best spice. He paused mid-mouthful and watched the bread flex under the influence of [Warding Flesh]. He tried to reach out for any strange new sensation like he had with [Chameleon] but felt nothing. Cease! Halt! Lessen! Despite his self-invoked commands, he could not feel anything change. Dante sagged but continued eating. He had been hoping that there was some built-in control for the [Ability], but nothing immediately obvious leaped out at him. Is this why it was so cheap? Because it¡¯s actively trying to kill me? How long before it pushes even air away from me? He scowled as he ran out of bread and began using his fingers to chase the stew into his mouth. This drew some looks of disapproval from some of those around the campfire, but he was past caring. This was literally a matter of life and death. I am going to have to take this into account when choosing the [Specialization]. It¡¯s only going to get worse too, it¡¯s not like I can stop using it. It is always on and every level I have gained from it has been from an unavoidable attack. As he made his way through the bowl, he tried to think of solutions. I should see if I can find or carve a ladle, it would solve a problem in the short term. Dante finished the bowl with relish, but he was still hungry. He looked around at the others, unsure if asking for a second bowl was rude. If I am looking to build strength, I am going to have to eat more than usual. No one else seemed to have taken a second helping and, not wanting to cause a scene, so Dante was stuck holding the bowl awkwardly. Lively conversation had been happening while he had been having his existential crisis. He looked to Sv¨­l, trying to catch his eye, but was studiously ignored. He needed some air. Dante placed his bowl on his chair and made his way outside. Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it and took a second to take a breath of air. It was ... not great. Even here, he could smell fire and blood. The uncomfortable feeling in his chest tightened. He picked a random passageway that headed away from the front and set off. He did not know where he was going, just that he wanted to be anywhere but here. Even at night, the trenches were full of soldiers and Dante seemed to catch the eye of every single one. Frustrated, he started taking less busy turns but that hardly seemed to help. At some point, he wasn''t quite when, he had broken into a run. A solitary flash of green caught his eye and he slowed to a stop. Chest heaving, he wiped sweat from his brow and looked to see what had caught his eye. In the middle of the trench, was a sapling. It was a sad thing, stunted and mostly barren. It seemed to have sprouted out of a crack in the stone of the trench and its tiny branches reached up, presumably grasping for the rare ray of light. Dante doubted that it would survive. Though ... after a second look, perhaps there was some hope. It was clear from the footprints around it that the soldiers had taken care not to step on it. Someone had even gathered loose rubble and made a crude wall around the base. Some of its branches had been tied to a vertical stick, stretching them upwards. Someone obviously cares about this poor tree. Dante took a seat next to the sapling and closed his eyes. Once again, he took a deep breath and this time the air was a bit fresher. It smelled a little like pine, which was nostalgic. Some tension drained out of him and his breaths steadied. If it weren''t for the distant explosions, he might have fallen asleep here. This place is nice. I don''t want to leave. But he couldn''t stay. Dante already had been here too long. He wouldn''t be surprised if someone had noticed. Standing up, he turned to make his way back and nearly jumped out of his skin when he found Sv¨­l leaning against a wall just beside him. They gazed into each other¡¯s eyes and Dante found a kind of resolve there. As they had that little staring contest, he came to a sudden realization. Ah, he wasn¡¯t trying to be friendly. He was just keeping an eye on me. Trying to see if I would run off. That hurt more than Dante wanted to admit. The tightness in his chest came back with a vengeance and he adverted his eyes. I just wanted to be alone, was that too much to ask? Dante was just so tired. He was just about to walk around Sv¨­l and make his way back when he realized that he had no idea where he was. "Sv¨­l, could you take us back?" Receiving only a blank look, he sighed. Dante pointed at himself, then Sv¨­l, and mimed walking with his fingers. The blank look continued. I so don''t need this right now. Eventually, he got the point across by saying both their names while holding up two fingers, then everyone else''s name while counting on his other for each of them, and then bringing both of them together. At this, Sv¨­l took the lead and rapidly led them through the trenches. After getting back to the bunkhouse, Dante pointed at himself and the beds. Fortunately, Sv¨­l seemed to get his message and took him to one of the nooks, one in the far corner of the room and on the second level. The intent behind placing him there was not lost on him. He would have to walk past everyone else to leave the room, but he could not bring himself to care anymore. Dante climbed in and wrapped himself tightly in one of the blankets, facing away from the rest of the room. Behind him, the conversation continued interspersed with the occasional laugh or animated shout. I never knew that one could feel so alone when surrounded by so many happy people. He could not bring himself to go to sleep immediately, the commotion in the rest of the room took any chance of that happening away. Besides, his mattress was hardly comfortable. Straw poked through the sheets and the blankets were rough as a burlap sack against his skin. He lingered in a trance-like state, not wanting to think about anything. After what felt like an eternity, the noise began to die down and the light faded as the fire died. He could hear people climbing into the neighboring beds and soon the room was only filled with the sound of snoring. In those few quiet hours, Dante began to parse the experience of the last few days. His agonizing death in fire and his other near-death experiences flitted through his mind. The reality of his situation hit him. I am on the front lines of the losing side of a war and I have no allies. Death could come at any moment and there is nothing that I can do about it. Such thoughts kept coming to him long into the night. Peace only came to him when his exhaustion gave way to a restless sleep. 16 - Resolve, Part 1 Dante''s dreams that night were tumultuous things. He dreamt of being burned, but this memory did not end with the explosion as it had in reality. No. He suffered his flesh being consumed and his bones were dragged into the ground, where he fell into a semi-familiar wasteland. Except it was consumed by devilish flames that offered no reprieve. There, he joined legions of the dead as they waged an endless war while the disjointed laughter came from hellish lights above. Then everything froze and began to fade away. Soon he was left in absolute darkness. It was a comfortable darkness, much akin to the feeling one gets when they bundle themselves in blankets and much preferable to what was happening before. Far in the distance, he could hear something. Dante concentrated and thought it sounded very much like a voice. One that felt familiar. ¡°... Dante? Are you awake?¡± Dante jerked awake and looked around wildly. He was seated in the back seat of a car. It was an old model with faux wood paneling and vinyl seating. It looked its age as well, the vinyl was cracked and the interior stained. His perspective seemed odd, everything looked big. There was a constant pressure against his side and he looked down to see a small form pressed against him. His sister, Sophia. She was asleep and he had his arm around her. Before he had time for conscious thought he had pulled her close and Sophia let out a pleased murmur in her sleep. Dante felt a wet drop impact against his forearm and realized he was crying. Why am I so relieved? Looking back through his memory, he found that it was muddled. I remember having a nightmare, but before that? Nothing. ¡°You aren¡¯t ignoring me are you?¡± Startled, he looked to the driver''s seat and saw a stern-looking older woman in a pantsuit in the driver''s seat. She had half turned in the seat to look directly at him while still keeping an eye on the road. Something about her graying bob cut and glasses with silver chains jogged his memory. ¡°Miss Lucia?¡± He asked disbelieving. ¡°Yes sweetie, it¡¯s me.¡± She squinted at him. ¡°You feeling alright? Did you sleep at all last night? You know that you need to your rest if you want to grow up big and strong.¡± Grow up? Dante looked down at himself to see a small and scrawny body like he had when he was twelve. A wave of wrongness went through him which, when coupled with the fact that he felt exhausted, also made him ill. A fact that he very much was not going to tell her. ¡°No Miss Lucia, I feel fine.¡± This brought another suspicious look but Dante put on his best poker face. If there was one social grace that he was confident in, it was his ability to look innocent. ¡°Good.¡± She focused all of her attention back to driving and Dante saw that they were traveling through a wooded area. ¡°Your mother just signed ¡ª¡± ¡°Do not call her that!¡± Dante hissed, catching even himself off-guard with the venom in his voice. Sophia stirred against him and his surprise was quickly replaced with feelings of guilt. ¡°She lost the privilege to that name long ago,¡± he said in a much more subdued tone. Silence reigned in the car for a few minutes until they pulled into a driveway, and then Miss Lucia turned into her seat again to focus her full attention on him. ¡°Ms. Embry, ahem, that is to say, Emily, has finished all the paperwork. This is your foster home for the foreseeable future. It may be temporary, but be sure to be on your best behavior. ¡± ¡°I understand,¡± Dante said and then gently shook his sister awake. Sophia groaned, rubbing her eyes with tiny fists before looking up at him. His heart almost broke again when he saw how bloodshot her eyes were. She must have been crying again last night. Forcing himself to smile, he said: ¡°Morning, Sis! We have just arrived at our new home.¡± Sophia straightened and looked out of the window while Dante and Miss Lucia exited the car. Dante walked around to his sister''s side and opened the door to reveal her face. She looked about ready to cry. ¡°I want to go home!¡± She whimpered. Dante let his smile drop but managed to contain his own tears. He swept Sophia up in a hug. ¡°I know Sis. Believe me, I know.¡±
When Dante woke, it was with gritty eyes and a swollen tongue. He stretched, then groaned as the soreness of his muscles immediately made itself known. Despite all of that, he felt surprisingly rested even though he was sure that only got a few hours of sleep. A fact that he was confident about given that he could still feel snoring all around him. He turned around and saw that the bunkroom was dark save for the glow of a few remaining embers. At this sight, the memory of the last few days rushed back to him. Ah, so I am still in the middle of this nightmare. He groaned and turned over, wishing that he could go back to the dream. As grim as that time in his life had been, it was better than this. Though he supposed he had it together more in those days. At least he was in a better way than yesterday. He finally had a chance to think at least. I¡¯ve really been letting myself get swept along, haven¡¯t I? Between his death, transmigration, and enforced conscription, there hadn¡¯t been much time to stop and think. Dante had been reactive in these last few days, the entirety of focus spent on moment-to-moment survival. Now that he finally had that moment of quiet, he thought that it was time to finally come up with a game plan. At least it was clear what his objective was. I am not staying in this war. It is far too dangerous and I have no stake in it. What do I care about these people? For all I know, they are in the wrong. Although ¡­ Memories flashed through his mind. S¨±nva pulling him through the barrier, the medical care he had received, and Sv¨­l saving his life. Even if he was guarding him, and was essentially his jailor, there was still a debt between them. Now that he could think more objectively, he realized that Sv¨­l didn¡¯t have to save his life or provide medical care. Dante could forgive him. Mostly. So I will also need to settle those debts before leaving. Which shouldn¡¯t be a problem given that I wager it will take a while to escape. I just have to make sure not to fall deeper into their debt. To accomplish all of that, he needed to become stronger. Not only in defending himself from battlefield threats but also in stealth. He would never escape this battlefield by force. The means to improve both goals lay within his grasp. Dante opened his status.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 3 Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+] Endurance 14 (17) [+]
Charisma 6 [+] Fortitude 16 [+] A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Cognition 14 [+] Perception 10 [+]
Constitution 15 [+] Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 [+] Willpower 14 [+]
Skills
Brawl (Common) 2
Deception (Common) 1
Lock Picking (Uncommon) 4
Logic (Rare) 4
Menial Labor (Common) 4
Sleight of Hand (Uncommon) 1
Stealth (Uncommon) 2
Abilities
Chameleon (Rare) 2
Sharpen Senses (Uncommon) 3
Split Second Reaction (Rare) 3
Warding Flesh (Unique) [Specializations Available] 5
Traits
Fickle Fate (Unique) MAX
Human Tenacity (Racial) 4
3742
So, I have recently learned that increasing an ability to level 5 will unlock a ¡®Specialization¡¯. From what I remember from the [Warding Flesh] options, they appear to be a straight upgrade or paradigm shift. My number one priority should be getting all of my abilities to level 5. At least [Chameleon] will likely be easy to level. The others, however¡­ Dante sighed, turned around on his mattress, and gazed into the darkness. He thought his dark vision had improved, but it was hard to tell. I am not quite sure how I am going to improve these more passive abilities. How do I train [Sharpen Senses] intentionally? Look at things really hard? Also, [Split Second Reactions] has only ever activated when I am in danger. Which is not great, usually you want to train outside of life-threatening situations. He had a few ideas, but he wasn¡¯t going to be able to test them inside of his bunk. It was time to stop procrastinating and make the one decision that he could make. Dante opened the [Warding Flesh] specialization screen.
Choose a new [Specialization] for [Warding Flesh]
Overloaded Exchange the future.
Maximized Power above all.
Reaching Extend your authority.
Restricted Sacrifice generality.
Polar Wield two aspects.
He had done some thinking about which to choose when he had been calming down by that sapling. Before, he would have picked [Maximized] or [Reaching] and been done with it. [Warding Flesh] was too weak to help him and those offered rather straightforward power increases, albeit in different ways. That was before he had learned that the [Ability] was harming him by keeping food or drink away from him. He had figured a way around it for the moment, but those problems would be worse if he strengthened it. Meaning that they were off the table. The ones he was left with were ¡­ more difficult. Dante had difficulty evening guessing what they would do. [Restricted] seemed promising, but he simply had no way to tell what the restriction would be against. On one hand, if it were something like anti-magic it would solve his problem. Alternatively, if it became specialized against physical attacks then he would be in trouble. There was also the possibility that it did something like sacrificing the full body coverage for a smaller shield. It was a gamble, but he supposed all of them were. [Polar] was the one he liked the least. The [Ability] had caused him enough grief without making it more complex. He was comfortable with ruling that one out. Which left [Overloaded], which almost sounded like a power increase. He already had [Maximized] however, so there must be some difference. The description was odd as well, what did it mean to ¡®Sacrifice the future¡¯? Did it mean that it would make it less powerful when it leveled? That would be ideal, but there was no way to be sure. By his measure, that meant that it was a toss up between [Restricted] and [Overloading]. Hardly ideal options, but what could he do? Between them, he supposed that he preferred ¡­ [Warding Flesh] has acquired the specialization [Overloaded]. The die had been cast. Now to figure out if he had doomed himself. Dante focused on [Overloaded Warding Flesh] on his character sheet and was pleasantly surprised when a window opened.
Overloaded Warding Flesh (Charges 1/1)
Temporarily increase all aspects of Warding Flesh. When on cooldown, aspects will be penalized.
That ¡­ is better than I could have hoped. Excited, he grabbed some straw from his mattress and let it hover above his chest. Dante then felt for the mental switch, much like he would with [Chameleon], and found it with little effort. I am getting the hang of this. Then, he flipped it. The loose straw shifted upwards by about a fingernail and stayed there for a few heartbeats before falling roughly four times that length. That was a bit underwhelming. At least it helps a little bit with the killing myself problem. He felt almost empty after having used the ability. Though, after a few seconds he realized that the sensation was abating. About a minute later, he felt normal and the mental switch became available again. That is also a substantial cooldown. Dante would have loved to push its limits a bit more or assign his attributes, but he could hear motion from the bunks around him. Soon enough, there was the skid of boots on stone and the room brightened as someone added wood to the fire. He flipped fully onto his side and saw that three people had gotten up. He recognized all three of them but only recalled the names of two. The not-elf Pauwna and Varvi, the man with the unfortunate face. The third was a woman who appeared younger than him but was taller and more athletic. A common trait around here it seemed, likely on the account of everyone¡¯s presumed military background. Her platinum hair was cropped in a pixie cut and she had a slightly vacant expression. Well, he likely wouldn¡¯t get a better chance than this. Small groups were less nerve-wracking than larger ones. It was time to make some inroads and try learning a bit more about their language. 17 - Resolve, Part 2 Dante dangled his legs over the edge of the stone lip of his bed crevice and watched the trio keenly. To his eyes, it appeared like both Pauwna and Varvi were quietly listening to the athletic women aside from an occasional interjection. There were also many gestures involved and a not insignificant portion involved physical touch like arm pats or prodding. As for why these things were being done, he was less sure about that. It didn''t look especially affectionate, more casual than anything. Aside from that, he really couldn''t intuit much. This did not surprise Dante. Even amongst his peers back on Earth, he had always had trouble. He was the frequent subject of jokes and sarcasm had been difficult for Dante to grasp. His friends had always had to explain such jokes to him, which inevitably killed any humor in them. He had gotten better at this, but it was more than pattern recognition than anything else. What possible hope did he have here amongst a wholly foreign culture? An idea struck him and, emboldened by pure longing, he opened his [Status] and spent an attribute point. +1 to Charisma. The experience that followed could only be described as transcendent. All of the things that Dante had learned about the world had been floating around in the back of his mind, nebulous and disconnected from one another. As soon as he confirmed his choice however, connections began to be formed. It was like having multiple eureka moments concurrently. Dante looked with fresh eyes upon the social scene in front of him. A new dynamic jumped out at him. Previously, he had noticed how much physical touch played a part in this culture but had completely missed all of the eye contact. Varvi and Pauwna had their eyes affixed to the unnamed women in a way that he found to be unnerving. Whereas the woman, for her part, gazed into the distance as if she was above it all. This wasn¡¯t an isolated occurrence either, he recalled how one woman with the healing flames had commanded the absolute sight of everyone present. It was no wonder he had drawn attention when he wasn¡¯t the only one looking. Then, there was that one woman who had assaulted him when he had just left the medical tent. If his memory served correctly, even Jack had paid her his attention. She must have reacted the way she did because I essentially snubed her in public. This ¡­ he hated this. Coupled with the physical contact, this culture seemed nearly built to be awful for him. At least it was simple, he just needed to look at however everyone else was looking at it. As for the touching, it seemed like the temporary boost he had been given by the charisma increase had not yielded as many insights on that front. The only new detail he had picked up was that was happening in the opposite direction as the gazing. That is, the more socially dominant party was initiating the touch. Although this was convenient in the moment, Dante couldn''t help but shudder at the thought of strangers touching him so much in the future. He had no idea what the reasoning for this was either. I am not going to learn anything new just by watching. With that thought, he steeled himself, pushed himself off the bed, and tried not to limp over to the group. As he came closer the group fell silent and he felt some tension. To his surprise, Pauwna swiveled one of her cheek eyes to gaze at him and he recalled that this was not the first time. Perhaps she likes me more than the others do? ¡°Good morning!¡± he said while giving the group a friendly smile. A smile was not returned and Dante was struck by how blank their faces were. Now that he thought about it, this had always been the case. Perhaps facial expressions just aren''t as much of a thing here? There was a beat of silence, then the tall woman extended an arm towards him. This he remembered from yesterday and he did the forearm clasp thing that seemed to be the equivalent of shaking hands around here. ¡°Li Vuspua,¡± said the woman during the gesture. This was new. Perhaps it was their version of good morning? ¡°Lee Vuspua,¡± he said back, stumbling slightly over the unfamiliar words. Fortunately, that seemed to be acceptable and the woman released his hand without much fanfare. Seeking to continue his momentum, he forged forward into the next phase of his plan. Pointing at himself, he repeated his introductions from yesterday. ¡°Zail vras Dante.¡± Before he could continue, Pauwna made a noise in her throat and then tapped his shoulder. ¡°Lal. Zeil vras Pauwna,¡± she said and pointed at herself then pointed at him. ¡°Zail vras Dante.¡± He nearly missed the intent of her message as he was caught off guard by her voice. It was throaty and harsh, almost like a verbalized growl. However, he was certain that it was not intended to scare. Then, the fact that she had corrected him caught up. I guess ''Lal'' means no? Oh I see, this is an ¡®I¡¯ versus ¡®you¡¯ kind of thing. The difference is the vowel in Zeil, which is kind of weird. That was good to know, but was tangential to his goal. He pointed at the new woman and said, ¡°Zail vras ¡­?¡± Dante trailed off expectantly and the women sighed. ¡°R¨¥va.¡± They were interrupted by the arrival of another soldier he had forgotten the name of. During the ensuing greetings, Dante was happy to fade back into the background. His bravery had dried up for the moment. Soon, the rest of the squad had woken up and congregated around the fire. The stew from last night was reheated and served as breakfast Dante struggled with the same [Warding Flesh] difficulties as last night. However, using the new [Overloaded] charges before taking a bite improved things. In high spirits, he even summoned enough courage to ask for a second bowl, which was given over without comment. As usual, he had overcomplicated things before. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it As soon as he had finished his bowl, he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Sv¨­l¡¯s solid mug staring back at him. The man was holding two shovels, one of which he thrust into Dante¡¯s chest until he took it. ¡°Vram,¡± the man stated and then started for the door. While he wasn¡¯t familiar with that word, the intent was clear. Well, If I am going off to the trenches I am going as prepared as possible. +1 to Fortitude. +1 to Perception. He immediately regretted leveling both at once, as the intense pain flooded his senses. At least it managed to mask the itching caused by the fortitude increase. He was unsure if this was better than having two separate events but he supposed that there would be time enough to test that. Heaving himself out of the chair, Dante suppressed a groan and followed the man.
That was Dante¡¯s schedule for the next few days. Get up and practice the language during breakfast, the trenches where he would slave away for most of the day, return to the barracks for dinner, and then sleep. Repeat. Occasionally, he would visit the sapling whenever he was feeling tense. So he visited that sapling damn near every night. Sv¨­l was his near-constant shadow the entire time. It seemed like he was never more than a dozen paces away. Even when he went to the bathroom though, blessedly, he did not watch him then. It was a constant annoyance and he could only hope that the man would become less vigilant over time. While he never got a chance to see what Sv¨­l could do, Dante was certain that he eclipsed him in every way. Escape was going to be impossible with the man around. At least Sv¨­l would talk to him. Dante would point to an unknown object and his jailor would answer, most of the time with a single word. Never seemed frustrated even when he had to ask multiple times. His acquisition of the language was a slow process. At this point, he knew the words for most common objects around the trenches. The problem came when trying to put them together. The vowels in the words changed all the time and he was getting constantly corrected. It was to the point that he was wishing that he had something to take notes with. It wasn¡¯t the only problem either. ¡°Lal. N¨­zlo. Nooozlo.¡± Pauwna said slowly as if speaking to a child. They were both on break in one of the trenches. Him from digging and her ¡­ from whatever it is that she did. Besides him and Sv¨­l, he wasn¡¯t quite sure what the responsibilities of everyone else in the barracks were. S¨±nva seemed to be in command and he had seen her ordering about soldiers from other barracks. The rest however, he had not seen them doing anything yet. Concentrating back on the task at hand, Dante tried again. ¡°Nozlo,¡± he said, then flinched as her palm came down on his thigh. Dante didn¡¯t hold it against her, it wasn¡¯t painful. It seemed like with any affirmation came a pat, prod, or shove. Honestly, he was just happy that someone was seeking him out other than Sv¨­l. Given that the man was basically his warden, that didn¡¯t count. He wasn¡¯t sure exactly why she sought him out, though he had a small inkling. Based on his charisma revelation, he had a feeling that she was at the bottom of the social hierarchy. No one seemed to look at her while she looked at everyone. Often with multiple eyes, which seemed to be a boon in this society. The biggest hint he felt was that she was the only person in the world who would look at him. Whatever her reason was, he was glad for it. It made his days less lonely and it accelerated his language acquisition speed. Besides, he simply enjoyed her company. On the second day, Dante found a broken haft of a spear about an arm''s length long buried in the rubble. This will do. He set it aside and continued about his work until he saw Sv¨­l taking a break. This did not happen very often, perhaps only once a day and sometimes not even then. So when he saw the man take a seat, he sat across from him. ¡°Sv¨­l,¡± he stated and then pointed at the large knife that was eternally on the soldier''s hip. ¡°Can I use the ¡®Laus¡¯?¡± He mimed drawing a knife and then grabbed the broken spear shaft, and then made whittling motions. He received a considering look and Dante could almost see the gears turning in the man''s head. Just as he was beginning to regret asking the question, Sv¨­l began rummaging around in the knapsack that he always brought with him. The man found something in it and tossed it to him. He caught it and saw that it was another knife, though smaller. Indeed, when he drew the blade he found that it was less than three inches long. Even so, Dante was relieved that Sv¨­l was willing to extend even this amount of trust. ¡°Thank you.¡± Letting the spear shaft rest against one leg, Dante began whittling at it with long strokes facing away from his body. He began with a small bowl shape, though he made the outer edges overhang the depression. After he had finished that, he carved a long handle and then smoothed out the edges. When he was done, he was left with a crude ladle with a handle about a foot long. It might not be pretty, but it will work. When Dante attempted to pass the knife back to Sv¨­l, the man simply pushed it back to him. That more than anything perked him up. It hadn¡¯t been lost on Dante that he had not been passed a weapon during his entire time here. Just about everyone else carried them so he stood out. Even though this knife was not practical to use as a weapon, it was still progress. That night, during dinner, he used his ladle for the first time. It was the recipient of many curious looks, but Dante did not care that it worked. Through a combination of using his ability charges and then eating during the cooldown with the ladle, he was almost able to eat like a normal person again. At least until the ability leveled. It was only a matter of time as it was constantly working, pushing aside rain as he worked and not letting any dust touch him. Things were just beginning to feel ¡­ well not normal but perhaps consistent. Dante was at least making progress in just about every area. So when he went to bed on the fourth night, it was with a subtle sense of satisfaction. Despite all the death and violence around him, he was getting better. His dedication was rewarded on the third day, when he was met with a notification upon waking. +1 to strength. Unlike the others, no strange sensation followed this one. Though, he had to wonder if that was because he had increased it ¡®naturally¡¯. Whatever the case, it was clear that he had gotten stronger. When he had to remove rubble that was plugging the trench he was able to move larger pieces. In the middle of the fourth night however, he awoke to a tremor passing through barracks along with a not insignificant amount of dust falling from the ceiling. Shouted orders soon followed and the room became a mess of activity. 18 - Night Raid, Part 1 By the time Dante had sat up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, nearly every other squad member had already dressed. He watched them with bleary eyes as they strapped on arms and armor at a speed that was nearly impossible to track. It was like watching a choreographed dance that had been set on fast forward. In less than a dozen seconds, aside from a few stragglers, they were already marching out of the barracks. It was humbling. I need to start focusing on my speed. It¡¯s not going to matter how tough I am if someone can shove a blade through my eye before I can react. Wondering if he should follow, he spotted Sv¨­l marching over to his bunk. Of all other soldiers, he moved the slowest. Which was still blistering fast by his standards. The reason for this was plain to see. The man was wearing armor. That word almost seemed insufficient. Half-inch steel plates embossed enveloped the man like a carapace. At least one glowing rune was embossed on each segment. He cut quite an imposing figure. An altogether different picture than the normal-seeming laborer he was familiar with. There is no way he put all of that on so fast. Magic had to be involved. Then again, the entire thing seems to ooze magic. Funnily enough, the man still wielded a shovel. Though one quite different from the usual. It was oversized, completely composed of steel, and the blade was clearly razor sharp. It was not spared from the runic treatment either, it positively glowed with arcane power. ¡°Vram¡± the man demanded. Follow. Out of all of the words that Dante had learned over the past few days, that was the one most uttered to him. Fortunately, he slept in his uniform as Sv¨­l looked rather impatient. He hastened to put on his boots and grabbed his shovel from where he had rested it against the wall. Feeling woefully unprepared, he followed the man outside into the night. It was almost Deja Vu. The great barrier shone as brightly as he had ever seen it. Though, the scene was markedly different on this side of things. Now, he could see tendrils stretching from various points behind them to interact with points all over the barrier. Like rope, they wove together and frayed alternatively, poking and prodding at the interior of the barrier. On the opposite side of that wall came the same apocalyptic barrage of spells both conventional and esoteric. It was even more terrifying given that he was now directly in their path. He only had a moment to gaze at it before he was hustled outside at a dead run. Even at his top speed, he could tell that Sv¨­l was holding back. Dante could feel the man''s annoyance growing and nearly adverted his eyes in shame before remembering that was a mistake. He had gotten better at that over the past few days, though he still made the occasional mistake. By human measures, they made good time and they arrived at the foremost trenches in only a couple minutes. It was the most crowded he had ever seen. Soldiers were packed nearly elbow to elbow along the outward-facing wall. Most were paired up in the same manner that he had observed, one with some sort of ranged attack and one with a defensive power or equipment. It seemed to be the typical doctrine that these soldiers followed. Together, all of the pairs unleashed a constant barrage against their unseen enemies. However, a significant portion of the soldiers were not participating in such tactics. Along the back wall, out of the way of the fire teams, waited a motley collection of soldiers. They had an entirely ¡­ aggressive feeling to them. He spotted one who had a cloud of swords circling all around her. Another wielded no weapon save his fists and had armor that appeared to be crafted of solid light. The only commonality among them was that they seemed to be waiting for something. It was amongst this crowd that he was led to and they took him to a place along a wall. Where they settled in to wait. Dante gazed at his neighbor, a robed women who radiated cold and clutched a staff which resembled an icicle, then gazed at his dirty uniform and battered shovel. I am so out of place here. What am I even meant to do? Dig a hole to hide in? As it was, he could only wait and watch the spells impact the barrier. Even constant impending death could eventually become boring. He was caught off-guard mid yawn by a sudden shouted order, "Aoul Ahsmati! Vune!" There was a beat of silence as all projectiles ceased. The only word that Dante recognized was Ahsmati, which he was pretty sure was the name of their enemy. Tensing up, he stood and cast a wary gaze about him. Then, a woman wielding a great bow as large as she was tall pointed into the haze and shouted: "Roan!" She followed her words with an arrow that trailed an arcane blue light. An instant later, the haze lit up with a blue glow as it struck something out there. Dante did not get a good look at it, but it was big. The arrow was quickly followed by a cloud of projectiles from the other ranged attackers. The shape moved with a speed that belied its monstrous size. From the intermittent flashes caused by missed spells, he saw that it was moving at great speed and had wings. Its profile mirrored that of a bat and he had a sinking feeling as he noticed it was heading towards them. It was upon them before much else could happen and it pulled up short right in front of their section. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. It was a dragon. At least, that was his first thought. It looked more like a tree that had grown into the shape of a dragon. A colossal tree at that. He could see gaps in its limbs and torso where various branches coiled around one another and it became wholly apparent that it had no organs or muscle. Instead of scales, its skin rippled with bark and moss and sheets of ivy hung off its spine and it had antler-like branches for horns. Its head appeared like the bleached skull of a stag and green eyes blazed with baleful radiance in empty sockets. If he weren¡¯t watching it move right now, he would be sure that it was inanimate. Of course it¡¯s a fucking dragon. Here I am, a few days old and I am already facing down a dragon! This is bullshit. The entire time he had been gawking, the soldiers had not ceased their fire. Various elemental explosions rocked its frame and hundreds of projectiles struck its hide. One spell outshone the rest, originating from a man clad in obsidian, who had jumped dozens of feet into the air to face the beast. He conjured a roaring blade of fire as large as the trench they were standing in and swung it with a roar. It flared blue just as it was about to strike and Dante could feel the heat from here. It struck true and night turned to day as the dragon was engulfed in flame. For a second, he dared to hope that would be the end of it. Then, a piercing roar shattered the night and Dante clamped his hands over his ears. A flicker split the flames and the man was sent hurtling out of sight at tremendous speed. The flames extinguished and the dragon was revealed, unhurt save for a slight blackening of the bark across its chest. Time slowed as the dragon opened its maw and out poured a sickly green gas that billowed towards the trenches like a tide of death. The trench broke into pandemonium as soldiers raced to escape the oncoming tide, Sv¨­l among them. The armed man barreled through the crowd, shoving several soldiers aside in his rush. One fell to the ground and was promptly hidden by a throng of pounding feet. A short cry followed and was abruptly cut off. Dante tried to chase the gap left by Sv¨­l, but the man soon outpaced him. A blur clipped him and he spun to the ground, falling roughly onto his side. From this position, he had a perfect view of the gas cloud bearing down upon him. He could only take a deep breath and whip up his hands to protect his head before it was upon him. Dante held his breath and waited for death. A few heartbeats passed without anything happening and he worked up the nerve to open his eyes to reveal nothing but a monochrome green. Effectively blind, he scrambled along the ground until his fingers met a wall. He stood up and using the wall as a guide, began shuffling in a random direction. It was not long until his lungs began burning, but he doggedly preserved. The burning in his chest increased until it was an inferno and spots began to form in his eyes. Suddenly, something hooked his legs out from under him and he fell to the ground. His breath whooshed out of him and he instinctively took another one without thinking. Ice laced his veins and he waited for the end. Nothing happened. He cautiously took another breath to a similar effect. I guess I am immune? He experimentally waved a hand through it and noticed that there was a thin film of air between his skin and the gas. Is that [Overloaded Warding Flesh]? It finally was useful. Dante instinctively looked to see if he had any new notifications but saw none. Really? Nothing for that? I guess even that is no longer enough to level me up in one go. Well, he couldn¡¯t be too displeased with the [Ability] at the moment. What tripped me anyway? The death cloud had somewhat dispersed, but his feet were still not visible. He crouched lower to the ground and promptly fell right onto his ass when he saw a limp arm. The skin was mottled black and deflated, like the underlying muscle had shrunk. It was attached to a near-mummified body that was slumped against the wall. Even while he watched, the flesh continued to blacken and shrivel. Small puffs of black dust exited hairline cracks in its flesh. He felt his throat restricted and felt nauseous. He could only hope that was being filtered from the air as well. Suddenly [Overloaded Warding Flesh] seemed like such a flimsy shield. He needed to get out of there. As he was climbing back to his feet, he noticed that the arm was reaching for something. He leaned forward and found that, inches away from fingers that showed bone, was a mask. It reminded him of a primitive version of a gas mask, but with lenses that he was fairly sure had been taken from some gigantic insect. Feeling conflicted, Dante picked up and pulled on the mask. He took a deep breath, feeling a little comforted despite being fine before. Having an actual physical barrier between him and the death mist felt so much more secure than some invisible barrier. Now that he had gotten past his initial revulsion, he noted detachedly that the body also had a sturdy-looking breastplate and a sword at its waist. He had managed to lose his shovel in the scuffle and he was feeling more exposed than ever. Greed, terror, and disgust at what he was considering all wared inside of him. Look what happened. If it weren''t for a lucky interaction between my [Ability] and this fog I would have been dead. They didn''t even try to give me any good equipment! What is robbing one corpse compared to that? He felt like he was trying to convince himself. This isn''t the time for a moral crisis, I''ll decide later if this was right. Mind made up, he began looting the body. First, he relieved it of the breastplate and sword. Fortunately, the body had not stiffened yet so it was ... possible but unpleasant to get the armor off. Then he began paging through its pockets. A task made much easier given that the fog had continued to clear. There was a swirl of motion at the corner of his eye and he looked up to see a soldier standing a few feet away, gazing at him through the lenses of the gas mask. They wielded gauntlets which had three viscous metal claws affixed to the back of the hand. Claws that were pointed at him in a decidedly non-friendly manner. With an electric rush of panic, Dante realized what this looked like. 19 - Night Raid, Part 2 Their figure suggested a woman and they were wielding gloves which had three viscous metal claws extending from the back. They wore a different mask, having another set of lenses on the cheeks. The armor that they were wearing was light and had sections of exposed skin at the forearms and calves. This revealed ridged skin that followed the flow of the muscles, much like ¡­ Wait is this Pauwna? Pauwna looked down at the corpse at his feet that he had just looted and then back up at him. Surely she doesn¡¯t think that this was me? He held very still as she stalked up to him and kneeled to inspect the body. She then prodded the mummified flesh with one of her blades. He held in pace as she stood up and looked him directly in the eye with those inhuman lenses. Dante tensed as she reached towards him. He was ready to fight for survival if she attacked. He was caught off guard when she gently took the sword out of his hands. She tied it around her waist, gave him a nod, then turned around and walked into the haze. After a pause, he hurried after her. He had no desire to be alone on this battlefield. Almost immediately, she halted and he nearly ran into her back. Pauwna was a fair bit shorter than him, so he could clearly see what had stopped her. Ahead of them lay a graveyard. Bodies lay strewn so heavily that it was nearly impossible to tell where one began and another ended. Which was not helped as most were not in one piece. Most looked as if they had been left under the elements for a week, likely because of the poison. Others were freshly killed. Blood painted the walls of the trench. His eyes found the body of a young woman. Her glazed-over eyes seemed to stare accusingly at him. His gaze drifted lower to where her intestines spooled out of her torso. When he adverted his gaze, he was now looking at a decapitated head that was so burnt that hints of the skull peak through. Wherever he looked, similar scenes greeted him. He was breathing quickly, the scent of viscera and worse heavy in his nose. Before he knew what was happening, he was bent over retching his guts out. He felt Pauwna patting his back gently with one armored gauntlet. Eventually, nothing else came up and he straightened. He gave her a weak smile. "Auven. Thanks. I feel better now." Pauwna held his gaze, nodded, and then set forth again. When he returned his gaze to the horrible scene, he kept his eyes forward and studiously ignored everything on the ground. Though the smell of blood and offal was too heavy in the air to let him forget what had happened here. Nor did the squish squish of his boots as he took a step. Pauwna moved from his side and he focused on her to try and take his mind off of the scene in front of him. She had stepped up on the fire step and was gazing at the great barrier. Following her gaze, he was shocked to see a large gap in the magical array. The magical veil had parted in a teardrop shape, like falling water when you stick a finger in it. The opening was not large, but a person could easily fit. Dante looked from the gap to the scene of carnage. Something had gotten inside. Pauwna reached up and grabbed something at the top of the gap. As soon as she pulled it away, the gap closed smoothly. In her hand was a large chunk of polished crystal. There was something engraved inside it which pulsed with light. Before he got a chance to study it, Pauwna tightened her grip and it shattered with a piercing sound. She opened her palm and pulverized crystal dust filtered out. Do not make her angry. Noted. Pauwna stepped down and continued up the trench. When he accidentally kicked a limp arm and caused it to smack against a breastplate, it earned him a sharp look. He placed his feet more carefully after that, looking down to find secure footholds despite the roiling in his gut caused by the carnage. He fell into an old rhythm, ensuring that he stepped with the ball of his foot first followed by the rest. In such a way, they continued their journey to the next bend in the trench. Pauwna paused before turning the corner and her body language screamed tension. Dante realized that there were tearing sounds coming from ahead. The sound raised his hackles. It triggered some primal part of his brain and he felt an intense urge to turn back. His companion, however, seemed to steel herself and then stalked around the corner. After a moment, Dante followed her. The scene that greeted him was hard to process. Pauwna was locked in a staring contest with a creature that sat atop a small pile of corpses. It was reptilian, though had a generally humanoid shape. Covered in crimson scales, it had spikes that trailed down its back which terminated in a thick tail. It was hunched in a way that suggested it was accustomed to walking on all limbs. What truly set it apart from anything terrestrial was the fact that it had an extra pair of arms just below the first and had digigrade hind legs. It was holding a human arm in one of its hands. It had clear gnaw marks. It looked down a long muzzle laden with fangs the size of his fingers at them. Slitted eyes found them and its maw opened in a savage grin. Blood painted its fangs. Pauwna raised one metallic paw and swiped it across a forearm. Dante looked at her with incredulity and saw her blood well up, collect into thin strands, and coat the claws on her gloves. The flow quickly staunched and each claw grew by a hand width. The blood seemed to solidify and grew lustrous like polished steel. She launched herself at the monstrous lizard man and crossed the distance in a few abnormally long steps. The lizard man, for its part, surged to its feet and took what a boxer''s stance. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. There was a furious exchange of blows which Dante couldn¡¯t track at all, and then they separated. A small trickle of blood dripped from a scratch on the inside of the creature''s elbow, where the scales seemed smaller. Pauwna was untouched, though a little out of breath. The entire sequence had only taken about a second by his measure. Maybe she''s got this? With the most emotion Dante had seen since coming to this world, Pauwna bared her sizable incisors and spit: ¡°[Sanguine Burst].¡± The flow of blood from the lizard man''s scratch intensified, turning from trickle to torrent. The droplets froze mid-air, then flowed towards Pauwna where they collected on her claws, lengthening them. Some flowed towards the rest of the hand, where they formed plates of blood. The lizard man let out a hiss and clamped two hands over the wound. It quickly realized the futility of this course of action and let out a belch of flame directed at itself. There was a hiss as the flames cauterized the wound. The blood trail ceased and it was Pauna¡¯s turn to hiss. She slashed her other forearm and more blood rapidly flowed out of the wound to join the rest. With this donation, the blood armor now reached up to her shoulders and the claws had grown to the length of a short sword. Pauwna stumbled and the blood flow ceased. He concernedly noted that she was paler than before. It had been a lot of blood, more than he thought the small woman had in her. The lizard man had not been idle during this time. After stopping the bleeding, it reached down its jaw and pulled out swords of molten fire from its maw. The fight began again when Pauwna kicked a sword out of a fallen soldier''s hands towards the lizardman, who deflected it with one of its four swords. Then, she launched at him, kicking off a trench wall for extra speed, and the hostilities began anew. I can¡¯t sit back and watch this, Dante thought, watching a performance that wouldn¡¯t been out of place in a circus. Pauwna was fast and agile, constantly kicking between the trench walls to attack from unexpected angles. The lizardman, on the other hand, was the opposite. Immovable, it patiently endured the attacks and exchanged the occasional counterattack when the opportunity arose. Sometimes, it would unleash plumes of fire that Pauwna took care to avoid. At first glance, it looked like it was even, but Pauwna was increasingly out of breath. I am not sure how to help, this fight is so out of my league. I don¡¯t even have a weapon ¡­ of course! Dante looked about at his feet, looking for a usable weapon amongst the pile of corpses. No, a sword won¡¯t work. I do not want to get close to that thing. That spear would be better if wasn¡¯t shattered ¡ª ah there! Dante picked up a crossbow from the hands of a mangled woman. It was a large, easily the length of his torso, with a wicked bolt already in place. It had a few glowing runes along its limbs and was made out of a strange bronze-colored metal. He slung it over his back and glanced back at the fight. In the short time he had been distracted, the fight had gone rather poorly for Pauwna. Thin strands of molten fire now stretched across the trench. The lizardman sat in the middle, a spider in its web. Even as he watched, it spit such a thread towards one wall then turned and then turned to the opposing wall while maintaining it. Soon, another thread was in action. Dante realized that they were restricting Pauwna¡¯s movement, forcing her to approach the lizardman directly. Where he could hammer her with blows that she could not take. Why is she staying? She is definitely losing now. Wait, is it because of me? There was no doubt in Dante''s mind that, if left alone with the creature, there would be no escape. I better help before that happens. Dante had a feeling that this creature probably could take his bolt head-on. He needed something more. To surprise it. He scanned around for the trench, looking for ideas. Nothing jumped out at him. It was all too obvious and he only had one shot. Perhaps I am thinking too inside the box? His gaze drifted higher, to the lip of the trench. Now that is an idea. Still, he hesitated, remembering what happened the last time he had poked his head above the trench. However, he noted that the gas still lingered and blocked vision beyond a few dozen paces. I''ll risk it. He began climbing but had barely put boot to wall when Pauwna crashed beside him. She made a visible dent and spit up blood. Dante looked back at the fight and saw that the lizard man was looking at them, jaw open, and a tongue of flame flicking in his throat. Time measurably slowed down as [Split Second Reactions] activated. Having seen its breath attacks before, he was confident he could pull himself over the lip before it arrived. But Pauwna appeared stunned. He was not confident that she was aware of the incoming attack. If she dies, I die. Dante could feel [Split Second Reactions] approaching its end and made his decision. Dante stepped in front of Pauwna, staying close and crossing his arms in a guard. A moment later, the flame erupted and he activated his [Overloaded Warding Flesh] charge right before it hit. He could see the flames parting just inches in front of his eyes and sighed in relief. The flames continued and started to grow hot. Uncomfortably hot. Even though the flames aren¡¯t getting to me, the heat is. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the water skin that was hanging at his waist. He poured it over himself and the heat mostly retreated. Just as he felt [Overloaded Warding Flesh] reaching its end, the flames died out. He could see the lizard man sag, tongue drooping over the lip of its mouth. Pauwna surged around him and scored a strong slash across the creature''s face. Its blood augmented her claws and the fight began again, though it was decidedly more even this time. Dante went back to climbing and boosted to ground level. Keeping low, he kept out of sight as he crept along. C''mon, I need something good ... there! Dante spotted a large crack in the trench ahead of him. That will do. He activated [Chameleon] and hurried over. He first threw the crossbow in, then wormed into the crack. It was tight and he was grateful for once of how thin he was. Fortunately, it widened as he reached the part that split the trench wall. He readied the crossbow, then looked through the crack into the trench. The battle was still ongoing, though it looked like they both had acquired injuries. Pauwna still seemed to have the edge, as the lizard man''s blood was still flowing to her. He was relieved to see that the lizard man''s back was to him. Still, can¡¯t hurt to tip the scales. He aimed the massive crossbow the best he could at the creature''s torso. The thing had no discernable sights he could see. Worse, the tip of the bolt swayed in time with his breath. Dante tried steadying his breathing and that helped some. It¡¯s now or never. Hope this hits, it''s my only shot. He squeezed the lever trigger and the entire contraption bucked in his hands. He cursed as the shot went wide and buried itself in the lizard man''s thigh. The leg buckled and it fell to the ground. Pauwna was on top of it in a moment and unleashed a flury of blows. She methodically dismantled it, cutting along the tendons and rendering its many limbs limp one by one. Eventually, it had no more to defend with and she finally managed to get it in the eye. The cries and flailing stopped. Relative silence descended on the scene, broken only by their heavy breathing and the occasional distant explosion. They had won. 20 - Night Raid, Part 3 Dante didn¡¯t feel any sense of victory. Just overwhelming relief. Terror he had been suppressing flooded back and he wanted nothing more than to cower in this crack. That urge ended when Pauwna attempted to rise, stumbled, and collapsed. He threw the crossbow aside and wormed out of the crack to make his way over to her. Before he arrived, she uttered: ¡°[Return].¡± The animated blood on her claws and arms splattered to the ground. However, a small amount remained and absorbed into her skin. Her breathing became less ragged and her poise improved. Dante wished he had something like that, his skin still felt raw from tanking the flame breath. He wondered idly why he had heard that system command in English, but filed that under things to think about later. He offered a hand to her which she accepted. He supported her over to some rubble where they sat. Pauwna rummaged in her pack, brought out a small flask and drained it. She shuddered, closed her eyes, and braced as tremors ran through her form. He didn''t blame her. If that potion was like the one S¨±nva had given him when they first met, she was in a world of hurt. It didn¡¯t seem like they were moving at least for a little bit, so Dante turned to his flashing notifications and opened them. [Sharpen Senses] has advanced to Level 4 Level 18 [Adolescent Ahsmati] has been slain Your Participation: 13% Calculating Experience ¡­ Congratulations! You have advanced to Level 4 [Split Second Reactions] has advanced to Level 4 [Chameleon] has advanced to Level 3 [Overloaded Warding Flesh] has advanced to Level 6 You have acquired the [Crossbow] skill That was ¡­ a lot to take in. I guess that answers what is the best way to level up, he thought while taking a glance at the mangled lizard man. Or Ahsmati, according to the notification. An adolescent at that. A child. Bile rose in his throat and he looked away. Finding that he no longer had any taste for his blood money, Dante opened his [Status] just long enough to distribute his three stat points and then dismissed it. +3 to constitution.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 4 Attributes
Alacrity 9 Endurance 14 (17)
Charisma 7 Fortitude 17
Cognition 14 Perception 11
Constitution 18 Strength 8
Dexterity 12 Willpower 14
Skills
Brawl (Common) 2
Crossbow (Uncommon) 1
Deception (Common) 1
Lock Picking (Uncommon) 4
Logic (Rare) 4
Menial Labor (Common) 4
Sleight of Hand (Uncommon) 1
Stealth (Uncommon) 2
Abilities
Chameleon (Rare) 3
Sharpen Senses (Uncommon) 4
Split Second Reaction (Rare) 4
Warding Flesh (Unique) [Specializations Available] 6
Traits
Fickle Fate (Unique) MAX
Human Tenacity (Racial) 4
3489
A feeling of numbness swept over his body. Ah. I forgot about this. I haven''t tried constitution yet either since I got my body back. He lolled to the side as the worst head rush he had ever experienced swept over him. Unlike the other [Attribute] changes, this one lingered for what must have been a minute. After it passed, Dante stretched and flexed his muscles. He felt ¡­ good. Really good. Many aches and pains, some that he never even realized that he had, diminished or disappeared entirely. Examining his hands, the many blisters he had acquired had faded. I might be able to use this to heal injuries in a pinch. Normally, Dante would want to test out and puzzle out exactly what changed. He just couldn¡¯t summon the enthusiasm for that now. When Pauwna stood up to leave, he followed right on her heels. If anything she was moving too sedately for him. He picked up the crossbow again along with a satchel of bolts that he hadn''t noticed before. He reloaded, then slung it over his back. He was ready for Pauwna to stop him, but she never did. She turned down an intersection unto one of the passageways that connected trenches. To his profound relief, they soon left the majority of the bodies behind. That wasn¡¯t to say that there were no bodies. There was a steady stream of them. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Human and Ahsmati both. At least, he thought they were Ahsmati. He quickly came to realize that there was no commonality between them. Some looked like the one they fought, but others were more humaniod. Some even had wings. The only commonality was that they were all reptilian, though even that was not ironclad. He saw one that had cold, clammy skin like a frog. Perhaps Ahsmati refers to an alliance of races? It would certainly make sense then why the human side was losing. Their surroundings supported that theory. The human corpses outnumbered the Ahsmati by nearly three to one. Dante began to wonder how humans had ever held the line if losses like this were common. Each time they found a human body, Pauwna would occasionally crouch over it and inspect their wounds. In one particular instance, she poked and prodded into a man''s intestines, which nearly made him empty his stomach again. She didn¡¯t even look disturbed while doing so. Dante turned away in disgust. How long until I become inured to this too? Based on the small sounds of displeasure she made after she stood up, it seemed that she wasn¡¯t finding what she was looking for. What that was exactly, he had no idea. She also would go through the dead''s belongings if they had bags. No wonder she didn¡¯t make a fuss over that incident. In the middle of one such inspection, there was a sudden flash of light that painted everything white. Dante turned towards the source. Where once there had been one of the enormous threads that made up the great barrier, There was now nothing but dissolving shards floating toward the ground. It had come from the direction that they had been heading. ¡°T¡¯val so velan!¡± Pauwna cursed. She bounded forward, no longer traveling at Dante¡¯s speed but had barely made it three steps before there was another flash. He whirled around and saw that another thread had fallen. When he looked back at Pauwna, he saw that he was alone. His blood turned to ice. He couldn¡¯t believe that she would leave him. Without her, he would die to the first enemy he met. What was he going to do now? Dante staggered as a shockwave struck him. It was worse than nails on a chalkboard, so loud that he could feel blood streaming from his ears. He clamped his hands over his ears as it increased in pitch. He fell to his knees, then the ground, as the pain in his ears increased. The seamless stone next to his head spiderwebbed, then fractured. Speckles of mud peppered him and began to flow down the walls. Then as quickly as it began, it stopped, leaving only ringing in his ears. He removed his hands and stood up. The general feeling of well-being that he had received from the constitution increase was gone. His flesh felt like it had been tenderized with a mallet. What the hell was that? Some kind of sound attack? Gazing around, he quickly found the problem. The great barrier had fragmented. The membrane was cracked in the area where the two strands were missing. The barrier itself was more translucent and thinner. The everchanging magic circles were gone entirely. It seemed like all the magic artillery spells were now targeting that point. He watched as a strange purple bolt approached the spot. No reactive barrier arose to intercept it and it pierced through easily. Followed by another and another. This was bad. He was once again an ant in a battle between giants. What could he even hope to do in the face of this? Perhaps I could run away. Now would be the perfect time. My jailors are gone and I can blend in well enough with this uniform. It may be risky, but anywhere is better than here. As if to prove that point, a tremor ran through the ground. Large chunks of stone were thrown through the air as something exploded. Dante stumbled to his feet and ran in the same direction that Pauwna had left. He turned from the path that was littered with bodies and avoided any turn that had bodies or the sound of combat. This led to him backtracking several times as he would start down a path only to find fighting. Eventually, he arrived at a split where both options had the sounds of conflict. He picked one at random, went around a bend, and found a battle. There was a large square at the center of which lay a ritual circle. Above the circle lay one of the threads that held up the great barrier. A circle of mages were clustered around it in some sort of arcane ritual and around them, a fierce battle raged between human soldiers and Ahsmati. The Ahsmati were far outnumbered, but each seemed to tie down four times their number. Much like he had observed, there were many types of Ahsmati. He spotted several that looked like the one he had fought save for coloring. However, there were also other types. They ranged from small winged serpents which weaved through the conflict nimbly, to lumbering goliaths which tossed aside foes. Before he could decide what to do, There was a cracking sound. Dante turned around to see the primordial dragon again. It was perched on the side of the great barrier with its claws penetrating the arcane membrane. From this distance, he now realized just how massive it was. You could fit the entirety of the barracks within its clawed grip. With a titanic effort, it heaved, and the barrier split. Before his disbelieving eyes, it tore the hole wider and clawed its way in. Once free, it spread its wings and took flight. Inside the barrier. It swooped over the battlefield and spewed death upon the landscape. If he wasn''t mistaken, the dragon was headed straight towards them. Before he could decide what to do, it spoke. "[Virulent Putrification]". The booming command was perfectly audible even past the ringing in his ears. It shook the world and demanded attention. The breath that it had breathed darkened until it became a black that consumed light. In it, he saw the very stone of the trench corrode away. Flesh ran like water and bone melted. Dante swallowed nervously as it approached his location, suddenly less confident in the ability of [Overloaded Warding Flesh] to survive that. Not that he had much choice now, there was no escaping the doom that approached. All he could do was endure. The battle behind him had changed its tenor as all the Ahsmati took to the skies. Some carried their non-flying brethren, though the large ones were left behind. Such foes simply relied on their bulk and large stride to carry themselves away. As for the human soldiers, most scattered though some stayed. Amongst their number, he spied both Pauwna and Sv¨­l. The square was soon clear of all living enemies. The dragon drew close enough that he could see the baleful fire in its eyes and the roiling gas in its opened its maw to deliver death upon them. Before the breath could exit its mouth, a comet of fire arced over them and smashed into the dragon''s snout. Despite being a speck compared to the dragon''s colossal form, somehow the comet won and the gas was diverted. The dragon roared as it rebounded from the impact, even louder than the last time. Dante gasped as the pain in his ears redoubled. The comet flared and golden fire rained down upon the battlefield. It was impossible to dodge and Dante didn¡¯t try to. He recognized the individual above. It was the regal woman who had healed him when he had first woken up in this world. The gold fire struck him and washed away his aches, exhaustion, and the pain in his ears faded away. The dragon snarled and exhaled its cloud of death upon the woman. The black fumes clashed against gold flames and dissipated. In response, the woman reached out with one hand and spoke with a voice that reverberated through the battlefield: ¡°[In my Demesne, none can fly].¡± All of the flying Ahsmati plummeted, their wing flaps doing nothing to halt their descent. Even the dragon dropped before it steadied itself with a clear effort. A chorus of fleshy thuds resounded as thousands of bodies struck the ground. Dante didn¡¯t think he would ever forget the noise. He jumped as one of the bodies struck right beside him with a crunch. It was an impish little thing, about the size of a child. It was more snake than lizard and had a long, sinuous body topped with entirely too small wings. It stirred and Dante fumbled for his crossbow. He got it up and aimed at its head as it looked up with unfocused eyes. He hesitated and it lunged. Needle fangs sunk into his thigh. Dante''s finger tightened and the crossbow released its payload with a thunk. The bolt struck true and buried itself into Ahsmati''s body. Its only response was to wrap itself around the rest of his leg and tighten. The bone creaked and flared with pain. Dante began bashing the snake with the crossbow frantically. It let out a pained hiss and swatted the weapon with its tail, sending it flying down the trench. There was a hollow crack and the pain in his leg intensified several folds. He fell to the ground. He screamed, his voice instantly going hoarse. He pounded on its head with both hands hard enough that he felt fingers break. Despite this, it remained stubbornly latched on his thigh. He could feel burning in his veins. Poison. An idea flashed through his mind and he scrambled at the pouch full of crossbow bolts at his belt. Then, he placed his thumbs over its eyes and pushed. This finally elicited a reaction and the beast let only to lunge for his face. Dante thrust the bolt into its maw and it gagged. He kicked with his non-broken leg, jamming the bolt further down its throat. The pressure immediately slacked and he pried it off of his leg. Dante gave himself a few seconds there on the ground, catching his breath. The ethereal fire around him flared and the sickness in his veins abated. He groaned as his broken bones ground against each other as they straightened, then fused. Groaning, he shifted so that he could look at the battle in the sky. During his fight, the battle above had turned in their favor. The dragon¡¯s once flawless exterior was now littered with gashes and a torrent of black blood rained down. The woman was untouched and wielded a sword staff of light at least twice her length. They were exchanging a series of blows that resembled explosions more than anything. In the end, the dragon was left with another gash above its eye. They separated and Dante heard the woman''s voice once again. The dragon, realizing its mistake, dove for her but it was too late. [In my Desmense, you bow before your betters]. The dragon froze for just a moment, but that was enough. A barely perceptible slash later, and one titanic arm fell to the ground followed by a spray of blood. A large droplet landed near Dante and it sizzled straight through the stone. He scrambled to get to a wall, now just realizing that he had been groveling. Regaining its bearings, the dragon doused its surroundings with its breath weapon. The woman flared her flames to cleanse the tide. They swiftly cleared to reveal the dragon fleeing along a few straggler Ahsmati, its stump still aflame with ghostly flames. The woman did not pursue it. Instead, she turned to the small army and raised her spear. There was a pause, then a surge of noise as all the soldiers gave a victory cry. Dante glanced at the two missing pillars, the gap in the great barrier, and the still ongoing spell barrage. He did not join in. 21 - A Breath Before The Plunge, Part 1 Ahzi glared after the Black Wind as it flapped towards the breach in Ohsen W?l. How she longed to give chase. The multitudes it had killed ... even just this day. If the other areas of the barrier didn¡¯t require her presence just as badly, she would have. Despite the risk. Especially because of the risk. At least she managed to claim one of his limbs. It had been foolish of him to challenge her when she was in her [Demesne]. Her [Purging Fire] would ensure that the injury would be permanent for the foreseeable future. At least until the Ahsmati were able to elevate another with anti-curse abilities. All in all, a victory. Even considering ¡­ She allowed herself one moment to survey the breach in the Great Barrier. Like a festering wound, the rent sagged open, bleeding enemies and their artillery spells through. Already the delicate trenches beneath her were ruined. She could see Ahsmati mages working at the edges, further peeling back the flaps of the barrier. This was unsalvageable. She needed to give the order to begin construction of the next line of defense. It pained her to see another slice of her homeland gone. It would be costly, but necessary. An amputation of an infected limb to save the body. As always, the army would have to hold the line and pay the price until it was done. At least with her here, it would not be quite as bad. Right as she was about to leave, a feeling tugged at her perception. Ahi gazed down at the battlefield and her enhanced senses were able to pick out a face she had not expected to see. The foreigner. His features were unmistakable. He was wearing their uniform, which spoke to his struggle with its bloodstains and rents. At his feet lay an Ahsmati, one of the Tund cycle, if she was not mistaken. It seemed as if her small mercy had paid off, at least a little. She would have to ask Moeris for an update. Her mood a touch improved, she flexed her wings of light and accelerated to where the fighting was thickest.
With a final look at the battlefield, the tail end of which he swore was directly at him, the regal woman left. With her, so did the exaltation left and soldiers streamed out of the square. Dante spotted Sv¨­l and Pauwna making their wave over him. Once they arrived, he gestured with his chin towards where the woman had left. ¡°Zail vras ¡­¡± Dante trailed off meaningfully, hoping to finally figure out who that woman was. Sv¨­l swiveled around to gaze at him as if he had grown a third head, the first emotion he had ever seen the man display. His eyes were steely grey, which matched his attitude in his opinion. Even Pauwna made a grumbling sound in the back of her throat. ¡°So N¨­v,¡± Sv¨­l began in a reverent tone, ¡°A?n V¨±sp''u¨» Ahzi W?l.¡± That is way too many words. I don¡¯t even know what any of them mean. It had the feeling of a title, but he was unsure which part was title and which was name. Given the respect that the woman seemed to be held in, he hesitated to ask further questions for accidentally crossing a taboo. It was clear now that she was more important than he had assumed. For now, he would commit the entire thing to memory and see if he heard anyone else talking about her. Dante frowned as a thought struck him. Why then did she deign to talk to me? A coincidence or perhaps something else? Dante noticed that Sv¨­l and Pauwna had moved away from the square. Sv¨­l gave him a look and he hastened to catch up to them. I hope that we are not going back to the front. It¡¯s not like I have a choice if we are. If there was an opportunity to escape ¡ª and I am not sure if there ever truly was ¡ª then it has passed. On the way over, he checked his notifications to find two new ones. Level 8 [Tund Ahsmati] has been slain Your Participation: 57% [Crossbow] has advanced to Level 2 [Brawl] has advanced to Level 3 That thing was only four levels higher than me? Dante was surprised to hear that, it had felt a lot stronger in the moment. Not exactly what he had been hoping would advance. Dante still did not know whether skills actually did anything for him or just kept track of how good he was. He was still holding out hope that something would happen at level 5 like [Overloaded Warding Flesh]. Fortunately, they stopped well before the first line of trenches. Less good was the fact that he was pretty sure that the first trench line had been taken over by the Ahsmati. The exchange of fire between their ranged attackers and the enemy was fiercer than ever. A fact that he became intimately familiar with given that he was responsible for removing debris. Whether that was collapsed trenches, like he had been doing this entire time, or ¡­ bodies. He tried not to think about that last part so much, but it was hard when they came in pieces. All of this was without mentioning the constant bombardment overhead. It slackened somewhat in the hours after the initial assault. However, these trenches were being filled faster than he, Sv¨­l, and the other laborers could clear. Occasionally, the woman with way too many titles would make an appearance over their section of trench. Whenever this happened, the healing flames would be cast down and the sounds of inhuman screaming would soon follow. Injured soldiers would rise, nearly from the dead, and rejoin the fight. If she just stayed, he thought they could win. She never did though, always leaving after a few minutes. This must not be the only breach. This state of affairs continued through the night and into the morning. Curiously enough, the tenor of the combat slowed at daybreak until it reached what Dante would consider to be normal. This did not mean that their work halted. No, they continued well into the day simply trying to catch up. Before this, Dante did not truly appreciate what it meant to be bone tired. Every part of him ached to sit down and rest. Even moving a finger seemed like a colossal effort. When they were finally allowed to sit down and rest on the cold stone shelf that wrapped around the outward-facing part of the trench, he simply bundled up his overcoat to use as a blanket and was out. Despite the intermittent rain and wind, which he was only partially protected from by the trench wall, he slept soundly. When he opened his eyes again, it seemed like he had simply blinked. Glancing at the sky, he saw that it must have only been a few hours. The bombardment had started again. He lurched to his feet with his fellow laborers, groaning as every muscle screamed in protest. The next couple of days passed similarly. The entire night would be spent toiling amidst fire and death, the day saw them continuing to clear rubble, and in the afternoon they got a few hours of sleep. The strain on all of them was palpable. Even the normally unflappable Sv¨­l had dark circles under his eyes and a perpetual scowl rather than his normal vacant look. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. During this time, Dante finally got to find out what was making that intermittent thrumming sound. Spaced fairly equally across this second line of trenches were sunken emplacements that sheltered giant ballistas. Even to his inexperienced eye, they looked to be incredible pieces of engineering. They were about the size of a small building and were built onto a platform that could be freely rotated by (enhanced) hand. The entire thing was made of metal and must have weighed many tons. That was where the terrestrial ended and the fantasy began. The torsion part was woven of some strange magic and the arm had runes engraved down its length. Various pipes snaked into its internals, supplying something. When it fired, it did so with a small quake and a whirlwind that was strong enough to knock him over. The bolt would launch so fast that it would appear to teleport. Now that he could see where it was aiming, he saw that each bolt would penetrate through the ground, into the trench, and then detonate. Right as they were finishing up one day, Dante received a notification. [Menial Labor] has advanced to Level 5 [Specializations] are available He felt a glimmer of excitement past the haze of exhaustion. His theory had been correct! Skills did unlock specializations at level 5. His excitement quickly died down as he saw his options.
Choose a new [Specialization] for [Menial Labor]
Excavator For a small mana cost, every shovelful of dirt will carry twice its weight.
Miner Instinctively sense faults in stone and the rough size of mineral deposits.
Builder Gain an intuitive sense of measurement. Precision increases with level.
His mind felt like mush, he didn¡¯t want to do this right now. But forced himself to concentrate. He nearly selected [Excavator], then paused. Sure it would be useful in his current work, but he couldn¡¯t see using it after he escaped. Besides, using mana tired him and he didn¡¯t need more of that. Instead, he selected [Builder]. Hopefully, he could use it to start benchmarking his abilities. It likely had some combat applications as well. It would be useful to know the exact range from your target when firing a bow or crossbow. He looked at the shovel in his hand and realized that it was about five feet long. He picked up the next piece of rubble. It was about 40 pounds ¡­ or 18 kilograms. Huh, I guess that I can switch between them at will. That alone would have been useful on Earth. Dante remembered one time when the construction company he had been working for at the time had been contracted by a Dutch company. The entire construction had been rocky, but he remembered when they had ordered hundreds of windows that had been comically too small for their frames. It turned out that someone had accidentally ordered them in centimeters instead of inches. His boss had not been happy that day. Dante realized that he was smiling and shook his head. It went to show how bad things were if he remembered that job fondly. It wasn¡¯t until the fifth day of this that there was a change. The first difference was that he woke in the morning for once. He was still tired, but at least he could think of something else other than sleep. He did not question his good fortune, but got up and gnawed on some hard tack ¡ª the stuff was only edible if it was soaked in water. Then he picked up his shovel and waited to be directed to the day''s work. The second discrepancy was when they were led away from the front line and into the subterranean third line of trenches, which were emptier than he remembered. This area had not escaped damage either, he saw several holes in the ceiling, and one passage they passed was completely collapsed. When they passed completely through the third trench and back into the sunlight, Dante saw that there was a cart waiting for them. Waiting around it were two groups of soldiers, the first of which he recognized. It was the rest of their squad, including Pauwna, S¨±nva, and the others. They had large bags slung over their shoulders and looked as tired as he felt. The other group looked fresh, young even. He thought they might be fresh recruits. Dante and Sv¨­l joined the rest and, after a few words from S¨±nva, the new soldiers left in the direction they had just come from. It was then Dante let himself hope. Am I finally going to escape this battlefield? He knew that it was likely such a thing would be a temporary reprieve at best, but he would take anything. They climbed aboard the cart and were off. He leaned around to gaze at the beast drawing the cart and saw that it was another one of those strange lizards. Could have even been the same one. It ¡­ kind of reminded him of the Ahsmati. That can¡¯t be right. He nudged Pauwna with his shoulder, pointed at the beast, and asked: "Veil vras Ahsmati?" She stared at him for a second before bursting out laughing. It was the first time he had seen her do that. It was an unusual sound, it reminded him of a sound that he once heard a Puma make. He thought it might be called chuffing? She brought a hand to cover her mouth in a surprisingly ladylike manner. He thought it was ... cute. It was strange trying to reconcile this version of Pauwna with the one that had torn the Ahsmati''s guts out. "Lal, Vail vras Risrou." She said once she had regained her breath. Dante nodded, his face reddening. Trying to change the subject he pointed at a nearby tree and asked the name for it. This continued for a while until he spied something in the distance. After a short time, soon the horizon was dotted with tents. From this view, they had an unobstructed view of the entire camp. Much like everything in this world, it''s size beggared belief. While they were nearing it, he took the time to count the rows and columns of the tents. They were in disciplined rows, so it was fairly easy. Easier than he remembers such mental math being. Perhaps that point in cognition was helping him more than he knew. Or maybe it was the [Builder] skill. He then multiplied them together and came to a staggering count of about 800,000 tents. It¡¯s not guaranteed that each of those tents has only one person either. This is probably not the only camp either. This conflict is even larger than I imagined. I mean, this is essentially a city! The cart drew up alongside the camp to where a large area had been cleared. It was different from the sections of the camp he had previously visited, though he hadn¡¯t visited many. The area was lined with covered wagons. They were an eclectic mix. Some were no different from the wagon he was traveling in, practical, sturdy, and simple. Others were much more gaudy, having patchwork covers of all the colors of the rainbow. Many had dangling ornaments like windchimes or beads on a string. Some even appeared like moving houses. All of them had either rugs with goods strewn across them or some kind of stall. Is this a market of some sort? While he was gawking, they had left the wagon and made their way towards tables that had people lined in front of them. Something to do with records, he supposed. They found an empty table with a bored looking woman who wore a robe and had fingers stained with ink. A bureaucrat of some sort. They assembled into a line which Dante found himself at the end of. Each member of the party would talk to the official, who would then note something down, and then was passed a bag. When it was Dante¡¯s turn, he received an assessing look that he was all too familiar with. She began peppering him with questions. He knew none of the words being used and was about to panic when S¨±nva stepped up. She began talking to the official and pulled a scroll from her bag which she showed the woman. Aside from occasional mentions of his name, he had no idea what they were talking about but it lasted for an uncomfortable amount of time. They seemed to come to a consensus and he was handed the same bag as everyone else, then was waved aside. As he was joining the rest of the squad, he peaked inside of it and stopped dead. There were coins inside, a fair few of them. I get paid? 22 - A Breath Before The Plunge, Part 2 This day was getting better and better. Dante spilled the coins onto his palm and counted them. Three silverish and seventeen greenish ones. Each had the same stamped-out circular shape with a medium-sized hole in the middle, but had different designs on each side. On both, one side had the side profiles of various faces, likely famous faces, along the edge. There were eight in total. None looked familiar, although he noticed that the number of men and women was equivalent. Which was different than the ratio he had observed ¡ª Perhaps the military was considered a woman''s profession? The ¡®tail¡¯ side differed between them. The green coin had the three-eyed symbol which he was sure was this nation''s emblem while the silver one had a map. He raised it to his eye, eager to see what the world looked like. It was difficult to make out, as the stamping seemed to be crude, but it looked like a country that was shaped like a diamond on its side. There was an ocean to the south, a mountain range to the north, and a kidney-shaped lake in the center which the punched hole sat neatly within. There was one river that split the nation in half and a small eye icon along its bank where it intersected with the ocean. If I had to guess, that would be the capital. This will be useful information for when I get out of here, though I have no idea if the distances are correct. Or where I am on it for that matter. He titled the coin in his hand, gazing at it from different angles as if it would reveal new details. I would wager we are on one of the borders since we are fighting a war. Unless these are rebels, but I don¡¯t think that¡¯s likely. I don¡¯t see any mountains or oceans, which means that I am either on the east or west side. If only I knew which direction the sun set here. Dante shook his head, then deposited the coins back in the bag. Even more questions to answer. I should focus on the ones I can find here here. Refocusing his attention he found, to his dismay, that his squad was gone. Panic welled up in his gut and he looked around for any sign of them. Dante spotted a familiar face in the crowd and chased after it. To his dismay, it was not Sv¨­l, Pauwna, or even S¨±nva, but two members whom he hadn¡¯t interacted much with. They were two women, a pair that he had often seen fighting together as the classic ranged attacker and defender team. He didn¡¯t know much about them save that their names were Urvun and Ren. The former focused light into beams while the latter had this strange magic that bent space to divert attacks. He was not quite sure how it worked. Both wore the uniform that Dante had seen many magic users in, a flowing robe with sleeves that ended at the elbows. Urvun had stood out to him instantly, having hair and eyes that were a blue so pale it approached white. Conversely, Ren had green eyes and black hair. Though now that he was looking closely, he could see that it was also tinged green. Is that a thing here? Having matching hair and eyes? If so, that''s one more reason I stand out. As he drew near, Ren glanced over her shoulder and gave him an ¡­ intense look. She stared him down as he got closer, something that was made all the more uncomfortable given the local customs. Which he realized that he was becoming accustomed to. He might be a little dense, but even Dante could realize when he wasn¡¯t welcome. With a lump in his throat, he let distance build up between them and Ren turned back around. He made sure to keep them in sight, however. He had no intention of getting lost. I can¡¯t let this ruin my day. Where is my sense of adventure? While still keeping an eye on the pair, he began scanning his surroundings. They were overwhelming. There was a plethora of goods on sale, some of which were recognizable like blankets, knives, or clothing. Others he could not even begin to guess the purpose of. He eyed fetishes made of some kind of grass, wood, and twine that were being sold out of the back of a cart. A mysterious black haze that was too substantial to be smoke billowed from one fetish and another was alight with blue flame yet didn¡¯t seem to be burning. Right next to that store was a richly dressed man sitting on a rug. Around him, stacked quite high, were cages filled with colorful, giant slugs. Nearly identical to the ones he knew save that their shells were articulated like an armadillo''s. That one had quite a line. This was all without taking into account the people around him. The majority were human but others ¡­ There were a lot of others. The most common nonhuman species was whatever Pauwna¡¯s race was, being maybe 1 in 20 of the people here. He also spotted a handful that were like Jack. That is, enormous beyond all reason. Unlike him, they nearly all had a tinge of blue in their skin and tattoos that he thought looked like Celtic Woad. He also passed one small shopkeeper, who was covered in fur, and had weasel-like features. Kind of reminded him of Varvi. Rather than being cute, Dante found the result rather intimidating. Not all were mammals, he spotted one that resembled a dragonfly crossed with a praying mantis packaged in a roughly humanoid form. It had viscous-looking blades that came out of its forearms. Dante did not get a good look before the crowds separated them but noticed that its eyes were quite similar to the ones that were used in his gas mask. He hoped he was mistaken. I forgot sometimes in the middle of all this bloodshed that I am in a fantasy world. It was a bit difficult to take all of this in and not lose his unwilling guides. Actually, why am I worried about staying together? Isn¡¯t this the scenario I have been waiting for? I could just become another face in the crowd and escape. It was a tempting thought, but an eddy of unease remained deep in his gut. Maybe it¡¯s a test? They give me some leeway to see if I do anything suspicious. With his current senses, Dante was not confident that he could detect any spies. Which was not even considering all of the magic and system bullshit that he was unaware of. For all he knew, they could track him by his blood. Something he was sure they had plenty of. It was better to bide his time until he could gather more information. While he was here, he might as well buy something. There were a few things that he wanted and one that he needed. Most of his day-to-day needs were already taken care of. Food, drink, and the clothes on his back were all provided. The best thing to do would be to save up the money for when he could escape, but that was no way to live. Especially given that he could die at any time. It took longer than expected, but he found one shop that suited his purposes. It was built into a wagon in which one side opened up to form half of a storefront. The bed of the cart had been lowered to the ground and the sides slid out for more space. It was like an actual building had been transported to the middle of this field. It was intricate enough that he suspected that magic had to be involved. The shelves of the shop were packed with scrolls, crystal balls, and other curiosities. Legitimate old-fashioned scrolls, the kind that were made of vellum. Dante stepped inside, gazed at the owner, then did a double take. From the street, he had pegged her as human. Now that he was closer the truth was revealed. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. For the most part, she was human passing save for a violet film of scales on her cheekbones, slitted eyes, and clawed fingertips. When she caught him looking, she gave him a polite smile that showed pointed teeth. He was grateful that staring was not considered rude in this world. Tearing his eyes away from her, he examined the scrolls on the shelves. He picked one up and checked to see if she would react. When she didn¡¯t, instead going back to paging through a small book, he opened it. Instead of the text he was expecting, he was confronted with a ritual circle. Oh, this is a magic shop! He greedily scrutinized every inch of the circle and quickly concluded that he did not understand it even a single bit. It didn¡¯t even look particularly magical, though the ink glimmered a little. Something like this is probably well outside my price range anyway. I¡¯ll get what I need and see what I have left. He reluctantly set it down and moved on. Paging through more scrolls on this shelf revealed much of the same so he moved deeper into the shop where he found a locked glass case. Inside were three tomes. They truly deserved the title, being thick enough to beat someone to death. They had yellowed pages and he did not doubt that they were older than him. Even if he couldn¡¯t read their titles, the magic formula on their covers was explanation enough. There was no way he could afford these so he moved on again. It was at the back of the shop, in a dusty corner that he found what he was looking for. Blank scrolls. He picked up one and went to the counter. ¡°Greetings,¡± she said to him with that same polite customer service smile. Dante responded in kind, then placed the blank scroll onto the counter. While he had been following his squadmates, he listened in on their exchanges with merchants and had picked up some phrases. This, when coupled with the tutoring he had received over the last couple of days, he hoped would be enough. ¡°I want this,¡± he said and rapped on the scroll. ¡°Nlum, so n¨­v wrilr¨±?¡± He didn¡¯t understand any of that so he just nodded. He remembered Urvun saying something right before she paid. What was it? Ah right. ¡°How much?¡± A wave of confusion passed over her face and Dante inwardly cursed. I probably just said something strange. It wasn¡¯t like he could do anything to correct it, so he just waited for a reaction. The woman gazed at his eyes and hair and a look of realization dawned on her. There it is. I am just a poor foreigner. Please have mercy on me. ¡°Risu vunan et nao son.¡± That he recognized. One of the first things he had memorized in this new land was numbers and he had just learned the names of each coin from Ren. So, he knew she was asking for two of the silver coins and eight of the greens. He chewed his lip, considering. He could afford it, but it was over half his pay. Dante had heard that paper was expensive in medieval times, but he had other things he wanted to buy. It was time to do something that he had been dreading. Haggling. On his way here, he had seen many instances of it. It seemed expected. To his eye, it looked exhausting. Why can¡¯t they just set the price at what the customer is going to pay anyway? It would save everyone the effort. ¡°Risu vunan et vin sonru?¡± ¡°Wen!¡± Her bland smile morphed into a self-satisfied smirk and he intuited that she had accepted his offer. Shit. I suspect I have been ripped off. He hesitated and wondered if he should argue the point, but ended up counting the coin out anyway. It was too much effort and this was stressing him out almost as much as the trenches. His money disappeared into a small chest and she was about to turn away when he cleared his throat. ¡°I need ¡­ uh,¡± he mimed writing and the woman made a small ah sound. She bustled past him and rummaged around amongst some drawers against one wall of the store. She returned with a strange metallic feather, a small ceramic bowl, and a black block. She put it on the counter and seemed quite pleased with herself. He wasn¡¯t quite sure what to do with that last one, but it wasn¡¯t like he could ask. He would figure it out. A short exchange later, where he underbid yet again, and he bought all of the items for thirteen more of the green coins. As an experiment, he gave her all three of his silver coins to see how many green coins each was worth. To his surprise, she took all of them and passed him back four green coins. It seemed like it was twenty green to one silver, which was very strange. He picked up all of his items and then began walking in the direction that Ren and Urvun had been heading in. Dante quickly realized that carrying everything by hand was awkward, so he stopped to pick up a backpack from a general goods merchant. He found himself walking out with a waterskin too. Now he didn¡¯t have to steal Sv¨­l¡¯s whenever he needed a drink. All of this brought his remaining funds to seven green coins, which was less than he would have liked. When he escaped, he would probably need some money on hand. He resolved to save more in the future. He continued through the market until he spotted Ren and Urvun again. Even better, they had joined up with the rest of the squad save for S¨±nva. Dante took his traditional place between Pauwna and Sv¨­l, instantly feeling more secure. They were standing in front of the only building he had seen since coming to this world. It was big, about the size and shape of a football field. It had an arched roof which towered over the surrounding tents. It was rather plain, not even having windows. It had a certain grandiose charm to it. A feeling helped by the constant stream of people entering and exiting. There was something different about the ones on their way out. They were more ¡­ relaxed? Radiant? There was a stir of greetings and Dante turned to see S¨±nva joining the group. There was a brief discussion and then they joined the line heading towards the entrance of the building. As they drew closer, Dante saw that attendants were standing at the wide double doors. The next person in line stepped forward and coins exchanged hands. He had just promised not to waste money but also didn¡¯t want to be left alone. When it was his turn, he caved and handed over the coin. Fortunately for his wallet, it was only one green coin. Dante entered only to be hit with a thick cloud of warm mist. What is all of this? It was humid enough that water immediately began collecting on him. He could hardly see his companions around him. After a few uncertain steps, it cleared and he got an unobstructed view of the interior. A great bath lay in front of him and in it were hundreds of people. Men and women. All were nude. 23 - A Breath Before The Plunge, Part 3 Oh. Dante slowly turned around. Sure enough, everyone had found a cubby, and already some were undressing. Face burning, he quickly turned around but found every spot he looked at was similarly ¡­ problematic. I know these people¡¯s customs are strange to me in every other way. Why did I ever think that their views on nudity would be any different? Though I guess this is the first time we¡¯ve gone bathing. I know that certain cultures like the Japanese, Romans, or hell even the Swedish do something like this. I never expected this. Previously, they had kept relatively clean using soap, a rag, and water from the well to wipe away the day''s sweat. You didn¡¯t have to disrobe for that and it hardly was a communal affair. It had helped keep them clean but, after weeks in the mud and blood of the trench, everyone reeked. You just got used to it after a while. This seemed like a medieval society, so he had just assumed that was the way it was going to be. He was grateful that this wasn¡¯t going to be the case. He just wished that it wasn¡¯t going to be like this. What was he going to do? It¡¯s not like I can leave. I don¡¯t want to isolate myself by being the only dirty one. Besides, I paid for this. Maybe I can keep on my underclothes? Except no one else is doing that and I will stand out. He swallowed, reaching the only conclusion. I am just going to man up and do it. Bracing himself Dante turned back around and, keeping his eyes planted at eye level, marched over to the group. Most had already finished disrobing and were standing around chatting. Completely nonchalant to their state of undress. He took a cubby next to Sv¨­l, stuffed his recent purchases in, and then began stripping. With every article removed, his nervousness was built. By the time he reached the last piece, his heart was pounding. C¡¯mon, I¡¯ve faced death more than a couple of times in the last few days. This shouldn¡¯t scare me as much as it does. Dante took the final step. He fought the urge to cover himself as he walked over to the group, who were standing near one of the walls near the entrance. From the wall, steaming water fell from on high in an unbroken sheet. People stood in it and were washing their accumulated sweat, dirt, and blood away. They had acquired soap bars from somewhere with which they used to scrub away anything that lingered. The now filthy water accumulated in a running channel and disappeared underground. Yep, it absolutely makes sense to wash this off before getting in the bath. Dante reached one hand into the water and gasped, snatching his hand back. The water was scalding. He slowly reinserted his hand, getting used to it. Once he was sure that it wasn¡¯t hot enough to cause damage, he stepped into it completely. He found one of the bars of soap located on a hidden shelf behind the waterfall and set to work removing the grime. The water came away black and red for far longer than he expected. It nearly had layers to it. He didn¡¯t think that he had ever been this dirty. [Overloaded Warding Flesh] interacted with the water a bit oddly. The main stream still hit his skin and he was able to get wet, but the ability had an annoying habit to wick away the moisture and droplets away quickly. He was able to get clean, especially when he spent his charge, but it took him longer than the others. Eventually, he no longer dirtied the water and found that he was by himself when he looked for everyone else. Dante glanced around, but the heavy steam blocked the majority of the room. A surge of anger went through him. They are always leaving me alone. It¡¯s like they don¡¯t even care. Feeling exposed, he entered into the uncomfortably warm waters of the bath, eager for it to cover him up. It smelled strongly of minerals and the water was a matte green color that reminded him of jade. He thought he detected the sharp smell of herbs as well. It was an enticing, relaxing atmosphere wholly at odds with the storm inside him. A perpetual ripple formed around him as the edges of [Overloaded Warding Flesh] pushed against the top layer of water, which drew eyes as he moved through the bath. He went further and the water quickly reached his neck. With a splash, he kicked off into the deeper water and drifted along. The spray earned him a sharp look from a pair who had been standing near him and he murmured a rueful apology. With careful strokes, he paddled through the middle of the bath and looked for his squad. His strokes got more sure as he fell back into old habits. Very old habits. Before he had lost his parents, he had swum quite a bit. He had been good enough that he had considered going competitive. It was as soothing now as it was then. He missed those times. He flipped onto his back, kicking occasionally so that he could gaze around while still moving. As he was drifting along, he looked around and was glad that he was likely too red from the heat for anyone to notice his blushing. On the battlefield, everyone wore armor and the baggy clothing that this nation seemed to prefer. But in here, he glanced at one woman who had an eight-pack that would make Photoshop jealous. Her ¡­ other features were just as exceptional. Dante looked away again, the thought made him feel like a creep. He was surrounded by supermodels. Olympian supermodels. All the scars hardly change the attractiveness. Sometimes they added to it. At least they would be on earth. Here it was the norm. At least he was able to confirm that everyone looked completely human. Guess that''s what attributes will do to you¡­ Wait a second. He reared up and swam towards the shallows. Once he was waist-high, he looked down at his reflection. The face that greeted him ¡­ well it was his, but wrong. Before, he had always looked sickly. A product of a lifetime of poor nutrition, sleep, and drinking. Now, his skin was a healthy tone, the bags under his eyes were gone, and his teeth were white. The change did not stop there. He had put on substantial weight. Where before he had been frail, now he was merely skinny and he had some definite muscle. Even his blonde hair seemed to gleam, despite not being cleaned since he got here. While not nearly as ethereally beautiful as most here, he was far from what he was before. The main flaw in his visage was the fresh stitched-up scar on his cheek, which he traced with a finger. It didn¡¯t look like him. It was a stranger''s face. Uncanny, like he was seeing a distorted image. A wave of dysphoria passed over him and he felt sick. I have to accept that this is the new me. There is no going back. A new life, a new face. For a long time, Dante memorized his new features. Slowly, the sickness in his gorge fell until it was merely uncomfortable. He resolved that the next time he changed his stats, he would do this again before the changes became so noticeable. Also so that he could see what attributes caused this. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Once he had his fill, he turned and found his team relaxing a fair ways away against the side of that bath. Dante hardly recognized them. Their features, which he had once likened to being like stone, had relaxed to something more human. For some, it was like they had grown younger by years. They chatted lazily with one another and he could hear frequent laughter. A good number had an arm around another or had placed a comforting hand on a shoulder or back. He even spotted Sv¨­l and Varvi wrestling, which Sv¨­l promptly won, throwing Varvi a good distance to the laughter of the group. In the short time he observed them, he saw more emotion than they had shown in the rest of his time in this world behind. They looked so happy that he hesitated to approach and ruin the moment. He felt out of place. Dante nearly turned around when he caught one of Pauwna¡¯s many eyes. A smile spread across her face, which she quickly hid. She waved, then nudged Sv¨­l who gave him a nod. News spread amongst them. S¨±nva gestured him over and even the pair he had been following, Ren and Urvun, spared him a not unfriendly glance. A warm feeling spread through him and he could feel a grin spreading across his face. Perhaps I judged them too harshly, maybe they trusted me enough to find my way over here. I might just be feeling too insecure given, well everything. I shouldn¡¯t assume. He made his way over to them and found that this area of the bath did not get shallower and remained at about stomach level. A fact for which he was grateful. Finding that there was a step that wrapped around the lip of the bath, he sat on it between Pauwna and Varvi. Conversation in the background resumed as Pauwna turned to him. ¡°Hail. Acquiring lous good?¡± Dante firmly kept his eyes looking straight ahead and affixed to a point between her eyes. It is not polite to stare. This is normal in their culture. He just hoped it would become normal for him soon. It was distracting. He shook his head, forcing himself to listen to her words. Compared to how she talked to the others, she spoke slowly and clearly enunciated words. He also noticed that she used simple words that she knew he had memorized. It was touching and he appreciated it. Talking like that must be exhausting. Especially when he had to ask so many questions. She had truly defied his initial impression of her, she might have been the kindest amongst the group. At least he was getting better at speaking. His most recent triumph was noticing that adding a ¡®ru¡¯ at the end of the last word in a sentence turned it into a question. A fact he immediately took advantage of. ¡°Lousru?¡± Dante questioned. That was a new one. He wished he had access to the scroll. Taking notes would make all of this so much easier as he would no longer forget words. Pauwna hesitated, clearly searching for the right words, then said: ¡°Sword, food, branch. All. Lous¡± That was a lot of different things for a word to be. He mulled it over a few seconds before snapping his fingers as it came to him. Perhaps it might be something like ¡®things¡¯? ¡°Yes armor, No soldier?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Pauwna gave him a pat on the arm and the other went over her mouth as he noticed that she always covered her smiles with one hand. Perhaps her fangs unnerve people? There were so many small things that he wanted to ask her that were so far beyond his current abilities. Though perhaps not that specific question, it seemed like something she was sensitive about. Similarly, they carried on a roundabout discussion. It was slow, but he learned that Pauwna had also bought things. Food and also something that had to do with writing. Dante was excited about the last part, perhaps she could also teach him the written language. I should do something nice for Pauwna one of these days. To thank her for all of this. When he asked her what they were going to do after this, Pauwna simply said: ¡°V¨±aw Fight.¡± Which he supposed he should have expected. Unlike before, he was unable to figure out what ¡®v¨±aw¡¯ meant. The only explanation Pauwna gave was flexing her biceps while saying: ¡°Look.¡± Which was about as helpful as it sounded. Their conversation was interspersed with long periods of silence where Pauwna talked to someone else and Dante listened. Despite only understanding about one word every few sentences, he found that it was enough to generally tell what the conversation was about. In such a way, he was able to figure out that Urvun and Ren had been shopping for something related to magic. They had found it after he left, which was a shame because he would have loved to have seen what was involved in using magic. He could tell that the muscular R¨¥va ¡ª seriously the woman was Amazonian ¡ª had likely picked up a new sword by the exaggerated swinging motions she was making while talking animatedly. Varvi, the weasel-faced man who had barely talked to, was responsible for the group''s food stores. It seemed like he was more of a general quartermaster for the entire group. I should see if I can get closer to him. It would be good to figure out how to cook and what is edible for when I escape. Though it would be nice to make friends with everyone now that I can have somewhat of a conversation. All he was able to figure out about S¨±nva and Sv¨­l was that they went somewhere far away. To him, it sounded like they had been dealing with administrative duties. It was hard to tell, that conversation especially was filled with hard words. He did not envy them. His interest peaked when he heard the words ¡®fight¡¯, ¡®Ahsmati¡¯, and ¡®attack¡¯ in quick succession. He listened intently, but the only thing he was able to observe was that the good mood fled for a time during that discussion. That and S¨±nva gave a short speech that sounded suspiciously like a battle plan. When she reached him, she paused and then said just two words. ¡°Be safe.¡± Soon after, the group stood up and moved towards the exit. He followed after a brief period of lightheadedness. It turned out that taking a bath while stressed and exhausted wasn¡¯t the best of ideas. When he reached the shelf with all of his clothes, he was pleasantly surprised to see that they had been freshly laundered. Not a bad deal overall for the price, he thought while pulling on his shirt. He stopped for a second and stuck a finger through a singed hole in a sleeve. Though I could use a change of clothes. I would prefer not to wear this if I don¡¯t have to. I¡¯ll pick something up with my next pay. When they exited, he took a deep breath of the cold night air. Dante felt like a man reborn. He was surprised to see that it was quite dark outside. If he wasn¡¯t wrong, they had spent a couple of hours in there. They traveled deeper into the camp. If it weren¡¯t for everyone, he thought he would have quickly gotten lost. All the rows of tents looked the same and he could not read the signs at the intersections. They reached a row of tents just like any other and stopped. After a few parting words, people went their separate ways and he was left with Sv¨­l. Who, true to form, simply told him to ¡°follow.¡± It was a short walk away, but they entered a medium-sized tent that was completely occupied by two bedrolls. It was lit by a single lantern with a chunk of glowing crystal at the center which provided illumination. Sv¨­l sat on one bed roll and pointed at the other. ¡°Yours.¡± Then, the man turned the light off and flipped onto his side facing away from him. That suited Dante well enough. He lay on his own bed roll and was asleep nearly as soon as his face hit the pillow. 24 - A Breath Before The Plunge, Part 4 The next morning when Dante woke, he was surprised to see the sun in the sky. There was no immediate order to get up and work, no hail of arrows, no world-shaking explosion. Dante was simply allowed to lie there and get his bearings. It felt almost sinful. He glanced to the side and saw that Sv¨­l¡¯s bed roll was empty. Surely they wouldn¡¯t allow me free range. Right? He decided to wait until the man came back. No need to raise suspicions. Though, he didn¡¯t want to sit here and allow memories from the previous days to find him. Dante looked around the tent for a distraction and spied his new backpack. Ah! That''s right, I need to do that. Dante dug the roll of parchment out of his bag along with the small dagger Sv¨­l had lent him. He folded the sizable sheet in half, then cut along the fold until he had two pieces. He did this several more times until he was left with sixteen rectangular pieces that were about letter sized. Satisfied, he reached for the black block of what he suspected was ink. Now, what to do with this? Not having a better idea, he used the knife to break off a small piece and then dropped it in the ceramic bowl, which he filled with water. He was pleased to see it turn black and fetched the metallic quill. Dante experimentally tried to scrawl a line onto the paper but found that the line was faint. So he broke off another piece and dropped it in to a similar result. Waiting didn¡¯t seem to help, so he used the butt of the knife to ground the waterlogged ink shards, then tried writing again. This time it was thick and didn¡¯t flow well, but by adding a bit more water it was workable. That was harder than I expected, maybe I should pick up a mortar and pestle. Perhaps I should get some twine or leather while I am at it so I can bind this into a book. As it is, I better write small and succinctly. Now, on to the exciting stuff ¡­ He exited the tent and searched around until he found a sizeable rock, then used [Builder] on it. It told him that it was about 10 ounces or 300 grams. It seems like this skill stops at the first digit. Not as exact as I would like, but it will do for now. He let go of the rock and it shot upwards, launching a few feet into the air, then fell back down to hover above his palm. That had a lot more pep to it than he remembered. Dante filed that information away for later. It was not what he was currently testing for. Not heavy enough. He tried to float another rock that was twice as heavy and it refused to budge from his palm. Ok, need something lighter than that. In such a manner, he kept trying different rocks until he found one that rose very slowly. He noted down the results. Ok, now for its overloaded value. Dante conducted many tests all morning on every single one of his abilities. His [Builder] skill came in use again when it came to distances, but a stumbling block arose when he tried to measure time. The skill couldn¡¯t do it. So he did the best he could with manual counting and averaging several attempts. At the end of everything, he had a comprehensive list. Date: TBD (This is going to be a hard one to ask about) [Overloaded Warding Flesh] -Lifts: ~500 grams/17 ounces -Reaches: ~ 10 centimeter/4 inches After Overloading -Lifts: ~600 grams/21 ounces -Reaches: ~ 14 centimeter/5 inches Charge -Replenishes: every 75 seconds Notes -While levitating objects, the weight did not disappear. It seemed more spread out over hand [Chameleon] -Time to disguise fully: 50 seconds -Change: Not great, gets about halfway to surrounding color Notes: Seems to take account of what''s behind me [Sharpen Senses] -Sight: 6 meters/25 feet -Hearing: 8 meters/26 feet -Smell: 3 meters/11 feet Notes: Wrote a letter one inch tall on a rock and saw how far away I could see it. For hearing, measured how far away I could understand a conversation. Camp was loud, will do future testing here. Used ink for smell (Strong metallic odor). [Split Second Reactions] -Personal Time: 3 seconds Overall, Dante was quite happy with his test results. Though he was frustrated that he hadn¡¯t been able to test everything. For one, he was unsure how he could test his sense of touch or taste. Nor was he able to come up with a great metric for how well [Chameleon] camouflaged. Perhaps the most frustrating part was [Split Second Reactions]. Dante had figured out how to activate it, letting his hand fall towards the knife was enough, but had no way to figure out the difference between his mental perception of time and how much actual time had passed. When the ability was active, the outside world still moved. Just slower. Dante could count in his head all he wanted, but that only represented his personal perception of time. He needed a stopwatch. Perhaps the ability he was the most happy with was [Overloaded Warding Flesh]. Compared to how it had been at first, it had grown substantially. It had even saved his life against that dragon¡¯s breath, though he thought it was a case of [Overloaded Warding Flesh] being a perfect counter to it. Even so, what level did that thing have to be? A hundred? Against more regular attacks, it could deflect a small rock now. As long as it was thrown underhanded. In the future, who knew what it would be capable of. Especially after more specializations. He would have to revisit the testing after making a few purchases and leveling a bit. Dante frowned and looked outside the tent flap. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Where was Sv¨­l? The sun had reached its zenith and there was still no sign of the man. Perhaps he had really been left alone? Dante couldn¡¯t see any other reason for being left alone like this. Dante was out of tasks to occupy himself with. His thoughts kept turning to something he didn¡¯t want to think about. The events of the last few days. He had been either too scared or tired to think it through yet, but a lot had happened. When it became clear that he wasn¡¯t going to think about anything productive until he dealt with this. So he let his thoughts drift. I killed. Not once, but twice. Both were thinking beings and were ¡­ young. So why don¡¯t I feel worse? Dante felt bad, sure, but it was nowhere near the degree what he felt it should be. In all stories he had read, the protagonist would spend chapters agonizing over their deeds. He only felt ¡­ shaken. Perhaps a little angry. That he had been forced to do that. There was an answer to that question, it had been burning in the back of his mind. He didn¡¯t like how it painted him. He forced himself to confront the thought. If they hadn¡¯t been so ¡­ monstrous then it would have been so much harder. There it was. He had said it. I mean, the first one had been chewing on a person for fucks sake! I mean, it was indeed intelligent. It laid traps for Pauwna and the other Ahsmati could clearly follow orders. But all the people they slaughtered. I didn¡¯t have time to debate if the creatures deserved death. It was kill or be killed! Self defense! Besides, who knows what the other humans would have done to me if I refused to kill them. Anyone would have done the same. No court would convict me! Dante realized that he felt light-headed and forcibly calmed his breath. He was coated with sweat. The walls of the tent were claustrophobic. He couldn¡¯t stay a moment longer in there. Dante grabbed his possessions and bolted. As soon as he was outside and in the bright sun, he felt better. He took a few moments to take a few deep breaths. If he was being honest with himself, going alone scared the shit out of him. This was a strange, new, and highly dangerous world. If he got himself in trouble, like he had with that one angry woman, there was no one to save him. He could even get lost. But it was better than being left alone with his memories. I guess I did care more than I thought, at least about some part of it. The thought failed to bring him joy. He had always been awful at interpreting his own emotions. But he couldn¡¯t linger here with these thoughts. He had to go do something, damn if this was a test by Sv¨­l. Dante shook his head and forcibly dispelled his thoughts. As he was about to pick a direction to go, a thought struck him and he fetched his writing supplies from his pack. He marked his tent in the middle, the intersection he was standing at, and the direction he was going to go. Then, he began exploring. Taking a spiral path from his tent, he leisurely walked the area and slowly made his map. He did not mark every path, as that would fill his small page quickly, but rather general areas. Even so, he realized that even with these precautions he would run out of pages before camp. At least I will know the area around where I live. It was something at least and he wouldn¡¯t have to fear getting lost as much. Whenever he saw a landmark he would make special note of it. Whether that was an unusual building or tent, a hill, or a place like he found himself in front of now. It was another cleared area, just as big as the one where all the merchants had set up, and it was packed with soldiers. Thousands of them. There were two main groups on the field, each occupying about half. The first was the most numerous, consisting of blocks that moved in formation. They moved in unison under the watchful eye of their officers. He tracked one unit as an order was shouted and they conjured dozens of fireballs. They launched them at another unit who, in response, formed dozens of small translucent force shields which snapped into place in front of the defending formation. After a brief pause, they snapped together to form one, segmented shield. The hail of fireballs struck and the shield largely held. Any segment that was destroyed soon had its place taken by a neighbor. Dante noticed that, although they were all using the same skill, some manifestations were stronger. This had the effect of ensuring constant protection, but the shield grew smaller and the edges of the formation were left exposed. A handful of fireballs made it through and struck the front ranks. Most endured and those who did not were swiftly dragged to the back, where healers waited. It was a stunning show of coordination and training, far removed from what he had seen at the trenches. They were not limited to that one maneuver, he had seen, there were many others. He saw coordinated magical displays involving retreats covered by smoke screens, charges preceded by a small earthquake which disrupted footing, and distractions caused by covering the ground in ice mid-fight. I wonder where these guys were when we were fighting and dying in the trenches? Dante knew for a fact that they could have used such competent soldiers. Though ¡­ it seemed like they all had the same skills, which gave him a bad feeling. Such tactics would need uniformity, so all members would have to have the same build. Which would require someone telling them to pick them. Which seemed tyricanal. As far as he was aware, there was no way to change your build, so these soldiers might be stuck with this build for the rest of their lives. He wasn¡¯t in the mood to dote on that any longer, so he took a look at the other side of the field. The type of people over there were more like what he was used to. A ragtag mob that wielded arms and armor as varied as their appearance. A stranger would have no way of knowing that they belonged to the same army as the other units. Rather than drilling, they undertook a breath-taking variety of activities. The most common of which took place in many sandy fighting pits where many a warrior pitted themselves against one another. Given that such contestants shook the ground with their strikes and caused small whirlwinds with their swift movements, Dante did not feel confident about even drawing near. There were some less extreme matches, so perhaps it wasn¡¯t a loss cause. He did see several more experienced warriors giving instruction, so he might learn something if he did. In one isolated part of the field, he saw a curious sight. A ring of odd yet hazardous objects arrayed in a rough circle. Among them was a raging forge, a shard of ice which steamed in the air, a roiling pool of acid, and a cauldron that held absolute blackness. Dante watched as one woman paid for entrance, walked in, and plunged her hands directly into the heart of the forge. He gasped as she held it there for a few seconds, then removed it with a grimace. To his shock, aside from some redness, her hands were fine. She moved on to the ice and held a hand against that, for much less time than the last. The woman made a complete circuit, avoiding only the dark cauldron, and sustained no serious injury. She was not the only one either, a fair few were making the circuit. Dante upgraded his opinion of the durability of the soldiers in this army. It also made him question their sanity, it seemed like madness to him. Dante was sure that they were probably training something, maybe resistances. Still, such self-mutilation could not be healthy. Dante was definitely not going to do that. He was much more interested in another activity. On the far side of the training field, he spied several archery ranges. As he made his way over, he realized it wasn¡¯t just bows and arrows. Javelins, throwing knives, and throwing axes were quite common, and some used more exotic armaments like bolas or nets. Each range was different. Some looked no different from those back home, with the patrons shooting into hay-filled targets about a football field away. Others were more awe-inspiring. He watched as one particular archer drew back a bow that appeared spun from silvery moonlight. When it was at full draw, an arrow of light appeared. When she released her shot, it was with no noise at all. The only noticeable effect was a brief flash of light at the end of range, about half a mile away. If he wasn¡¯t mistaken, it had split a boulder in half. Now that, was an ability he was interested in acquiring. Dante had a suspicion that [Overloaded Warding Flesh] would work well with a ranged weapon as it would add velocity to any projectile he fired. If he did it while spending his charge, it would be even more effective. While the added boost likely wouldn¡¯t have a huge effect, who knew about the future? It wasn¡¯t like he was spending anything to achieve the enhancement. Besides, the safest place on the battlefield was as far away from it as possible. Where he could shoot while camouflaged, then move. It was a simple enough strategy, one of the many ideas he had for using the ability. It was better to start simple. The only problem was how he could acquire it. He did not think that asking the woman would work. Even if he could articulate the question, it seemed like something she would want to keep secret. I am sure, however it works, it starts with picking up a bow. Or crossbow. I already have the skill for that. Rather enamored with that vision, Dante began walking towards a mostly empty range. He was hoping that there would be some practice weapons available, but a brief scan did not show any. Time for plan B. 25 - A Breath Before The Plunge, Part 5 Among the few residents of the range, was an older man. Unlike everyone else, he was not practicing at the range but spent his time talking to a few soldiers. After each discussion, the soldier would change something, whether that be their stance, grip, or something else. Dante thought this gentleman might be a teacher of some sort. He was perhaps the most visibly aged person Dante had seen yet, appearing to be his late forties. Even so, he stood strong and had a wiry frame that seemed as hardy as an ancient oak tree. He had stood out because he had bronze hair which had white running through it and weathered skin crisscrossed with too many scars to count. It was the first sign of age he had seen since coming to this world, though Dante supposed he was running with a specific crowd. He approached the old soldier and waited for him to finish his current instruction, where he was scrutinizing the bow form of a young woman. With a wooden switch, the man nudged her elbow further back and then barked an order. The women released and the arrow just missed a straw dummy about 100 feet away. ¡°Vl¨¡no sunt!¡± She cursed and Dante made sure to file that one away later. She went to stalk after it but was stopped when the switch blocked her path. The old soldier murmured a few words to her, then let her retrieve her arrow, more subdued. ¡°Uh, hi?¡± He said, then winced. I need to sound assertive. The old warrior turned towards him and raised an eyebrow. Dante squared his shoulders and continued. ¡°I want to ¡­¡± He floundered, searching for the right word. Failing, he simply mimed like he was holding a crossbow, complete with a pow and a kickback as he mock fired. The old soldier continued to stare and Dante let his arms drop, feeling foolish. Trying a different tack, he dug around in his bag and brought out a handful of his remaining green coins. ¡°To do that,¡± he said while pointing first at the coins, then at the range. When that failed to prompt a reaction he sighed and turned, ready to try his luck with someone else when the man finally spoke. ¡°Three bronze.¡± Dante paused, contemplating the offer. He had twenty bronze left, so he could afford it. While he wanted to save up some of it, he needed some way to fight back. Being defensive all of the time simply wasn¡¯t going to cut it. Besides, the first session was likely to be the most valuable. Counting out three of the coins, he turned around and deposited them into the man''s waiting hand. They quickly disappeared into a purse that the old soldier was wearing on his belt. ¡°T¡¯zonos,¡± said the old soldier and held his hand out. Dante finished the greeting by clasping his forearm and giving him a pat on the shoulder. His skin had the texture of old sandpaper and he had a solid grip. ¡°Dante.¡± Introductions finished, he withdrew his hand. He didn¡¯t think he would ever like doing that. T¡¯zonos looked him over, a quizzical expression on his face. He spoke a question that was too quick for him to understand and had no words he knew anyway. So he said perhaps his most frequently spoken phrase in the last few days. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Comprehension and a look of annoyance appeared on the man''s face. Clearly, this was more than he bargained for. The T¡¯zonos appeared to be searching for the right words, then spoke slowly in a manner that Dante was getting used to. Like one was speaking to a child or an idiot. ¡°Where is your Wuvenlu?¡± I think he means my crossbow? Well, I don¡¯t have that, but ¡­ Dante dug around his pack and brought out the quiver full of bolts that he had picked up when fighting his first Ahsmati. T¡¯zonos looked at the bolts, then to him, then back to the bolts. When nothing else was forthcoming, T¡¯zonos sighed loudly and brought his palm up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. ¡°Two more bronze.¡± He was already in for this much, so passed two more bronze coins over. Upon receiving the money, T¡¯zonos held up one finger and walked over to one of the patrons ¡ª another woman who Dante noted was carrying a worn crossbow. After a short discussion, the women handed the crossbow to T¡¯zonos, received a coin in return, then left. Then, T¡¯zonos marched back over to him and proffered the crossbow. Dante stared at him in shock before accepting it. I guess he knew that woman? Wait a minute, he only paid her one coin. I think I was robbed once again. Trying to keep the disgruntlement off his face, Dante drew back the string until it hooked over the trigger mechanism. It took more effort than he expected, the draw strength must have been pretty high, then he placed one of his bolts in its groove. I suppose I shouldn¡¯t be surprised. This thing is meant for war. It took a bit of fangling, as there was a leaf spring above the groove that he had to figure out. It appeared to hold the bolt in place, which was fortunate given that [Overloaded Warding Flesh] would have ejected it otherwise. He aimed with the crossbow, holding it like a rifle, something that he had some meager experience with, and realized that the thing didn¡¯t have sights. While he was puzzling over how to aim the damn thing, he grunted as he felt the switch descended upon his back. It pushed him forward, straightening his back and making him move forward a hair. Then, the switch descended and pushed his front leg forward until his feet were shoulder width apart. Seeming satisfied for the moment, T¡¯zonos stepped back and crossed his arms. Dante did his best to aim at the closest straw dummy, then hit the trigger. It kicked in his hands harder than he expected. He watched as the bolt flew down the range only to bury itself in the ground a short distance away from the target. I suppose it was a good thing that I shot that Ahsmati at close range. According to [Builder] It looks like I missed it by ten feet and the bolt traveled ninety feet. Which means that it drops about six feet for every ninety feet. If only I could tell what angle I am holding the crossbow at ¡ª oh apparently [Builder] can do that too. I bet I could come up with a system to calculate ranges. Though ¡­ probably not on the battlefield. I¡¯ll add that to the list. Dante slotted another bolt and took another shot. This time, it went too high and flew over the dummy''s shoulder. This is going to take some time. He ended up staying at the range for most of the day. After T¡¯zonos showed him how to aim, by tracing a line from fletching to bolt tip to the enemy, he managed to start hitting the target. Some of the time at least. He began to get an intuitive feel for it. Around that point, T¡¯zonos left him alone to check on his other students. He came back occasionally to reinforce some of his previous points but otherwise seemed happy with Dante¡¯s progress. Getting the bolts back proved to be a nerve-wracking affair. T¡¯zonos had to teach him how to communicate with his neighbors to halt firing so he could pick them up. Even then, it was impossible to stop everyone so there were people still firing when he went down range. He just had to trust they knew what they were doing. Dante fell into a zen-like state and the hours flew by. Something was intoxicating about throwing himself into a new skill and getting better by leaps and bounds. His good mood was further enhanced when a [System] notification popped up. [Crossbow] has advanced to Level 3 So training can level things up. Just slower. I suspected so, but it¡¯s nice to have the confirmation. Like all good things, however, it came to an end. T¡¯zonos tapped him on the shoulder after he had just retrieved his fired bolts. Dante turned to him quizzically. ¡°Give me the crossbow,¡± T¡¯zonos commanded and held a hand. It was getting dark anyways, so he handed it over reluctantly. Promising himself that he will buy one with the next paycheck, he turned to the rest of the field. It had cleared out substantially while he had been occupied, but was still busy. ¡°What now?¡± He wondered out loud. His arms were tired from drawing the crossbow arm back so many times, but otherwise he still felt relatively fresh. I should take advantage of this moment of calm, it¡¯s not going to last. ¡°I have a thought on that.¡± Dante yelped and whirled around to find Pauwna smiling coyly at him. She had been right behind him, so close they could have been touching. There was no way she ended up there naturally as he had been standing at the edge of the archery range. She would have had to approach from the sides. Pauwna had snuck up. On him. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°Don¡¯t do that!¡± He exclaimed, trying to still his heart. Ever since the battlefield, it had been easier for him to get startled. It had not been the first time this had happened. Once she had warmed up to him, Dante found that she would sometimes materialize right beside him. His reactions seemed to amuse her, so he assumed it was her idea of a joke. Pauwna cocked an eyebrow. ¡°If you don¡¯t like it, get better.¡± He grumbled at that, but couldn¡¯t argue with that logic. From what he could tell, it was the common sense around here. Dante bought into it to a certain degree, he had ample evidence that it was true. ¡°You had an idea?¡± She grinned at him then. It was a predatory grin, made all the more threatening by her pointy feline-like teeth. Dante would be lying if he said it didn¡¯t make him a little nervous. ¡°Follow,¡± Pauwna said and began strutting away. He did and they weaved through the crowd together. As they navigated through the somewhat hazardous space, he confirmed a suspicion that had been brewing in the back of his mind. No one moves for us. Instead, they had to maneuver around groups. Some, who were dressed shabbier than the norm, did look at them, but remained in their way. What cinched it for him was how they responded to Pauwna. No one even looked at her and some even seemed to move into her way intentionally. Pauwna seemed used to this and weaved through the crowd with an otherworldly grace that he found distracting. Is there a class or caste system at play here? It certainly would explain the treatment we have received. Like, that high-level women seemed to be royalty or some kind of ruling class. Pauwna halted and Dante glanced away from her figure to see where she had led them, then groaned. In front of them lay a row of the sandy pits he had noticed before. Fortunately, Pauwna seemed to have led them to some of the less extreme ones. The feats he saw here only bordered on superhuman instead of being full on impossible. The predatory grin from before suddenly made sense. She wants to spar. With me. I guess I need the training anyway. It¡¯s not like I will always be able to choose who or where I am going to fight. Still, I have a feeling this is going to suck. Pauwna grabbed one of his hands and tugged him down into an unoccupied pit. The pit was rather large, having about a 30 foot diameter, and was mostly flat. When he entered it, sand was pushed away from him in ripples that stopped about half a foot away. When he walked further into the pit, he left tracks in the form of two straight lines. The sand itself was awkward to walk in and he wondered at its purpose. Once they were roughly in the center, she let go of his hand and walked a few paces away. She brought her guard up, lowering her center of mass and bringing her hands to guard the face. It reminded him of a few mixed martial art matches he had glimpsed. I hope that she knows what she''s doing. Based on what I¡¯ve seen, she is way stronger than me. She could hurt me quite badly. Well, I have to trust somebody. And out of everyone he had come to know in this world, he trusted her the most. ¡°No [Abilities], yes?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± he called back, relieved. He didn¡¯t know what he would have done if she came at him with those claws. Then he came to a sudden realization. ¡°Wait. Can¡¯t do [Overloaded Warding Flesh]. Uh, that is ¡­¡± He lowered a hand towards the sand and a massively oversized handprint imposed on the sand, then pointed at it. Pauwna considered it for a second before shrugging. ¡°Ein. Won¡¯t help. Get ready¡± Dante copied Pauwna¡¯s stance the best he could and braced himself. He didn¡¯t know how she was going to attack him, but was sure that it was going to be fast. Hopefully the sand would slow her, not that he expected to win but ¡ª Pauwna leaped from the sand so fast that a cloud of dust billowed out. Then she was right in front of him. [Split Second Reactions] activated and he barely managed to dodge, stumbling to the side. Completely off balance, he was ill prepared for the foot that smashed against the back of his leg. He crashed to the ground and all the breath left him. He was now grateful that the ground was soft. As much as his body wanted to stop, he kept moving. Staying still was suicide in a fight. Dante fought to get to his feet, and Pauwna let him stand up again. She began circling him and he turned on his heels to follow her. ¡°Good, you can take a reyva.¡± ¡°Reyva?¡± She punched the air and nodded. A hit. This was good, she seemed willing to teach rather than just beating on him. Likely why she was moving at a speed he could react to. He had seen her move so much faster. So, he should probably concentrate on what ¡ª She blurred again and he raised his arms to block his face. He realized too late that it was a fient and her other hand smashed into his stomach. He bent over coughing and Pauwna resumed her pacing. ¡°What [Level] are you?¡± While he was catching his breath, he considered if he should tell her. It seemed like valuable information, but he desperately needed any advice. He was operating in the dark when it came to that. Dante found that he was surprisingly ok with trusting her. She had gone out of her way to help him. ¡°[Level] 4.¡± Pauwna paused in her pacing, a look of surprise flickering across her face. It was quickly replaced by disgust, but that was gone so fast he wondered if he had imagined it. Why would she be disgusted by that? ¡°Hmmm, you have good constitution and fortitude. Bad strength. Bad alacrity, but helped by an ability. No good [Skills].¡± Shocked, he was quiet for a moment before asking incredulously: ¡°How did you know?¡± ¡°Auwur. Seeing and knowing. Important. Is the W?lian way. You will learn this. I teach now.¡± Rather than dashing at him before he could react, she slowly approached him. Dante backed up, his mind scrambling. The edge of the pit was close. Ok, let''s give this a try. She moves fast, which has to be related to dexterity or alacrity. She doesn¡¯t hit hard comparitively, so low strength. Oh, she can also manipulate blood ¡­ Shit I don¡¯t know what I can do with that. Then, his foot brushed against the edge and he was out of time. She struck again and he blocked. This time, he kept an eye on her and was able to duck over a backhand aimed at his face. He was feeling pretty good until an unseen kick impacted hard against the side of his face. He went careening through the air and landed near the center of the pit. That was the hardest hit he had taken yet. He felt dizzy and his nose hurt. He reached a hand up to touch it and it came away bloody. Pauwna filled his view as she crouched over him. ¡°Better. But,¡± she prodded him in the chest with one sharp nail, ¡°You think too much. Let me fight first. Lack fastness. Never do that. You try now.¡± Pauwna extended a hand, which Dante accepted, and pulled him to his feet. What followed was more instructional than before. She was adept at pushing him to his limits. Even with [Split Second Reactions] he could barely keep up with her. While he was not unfamiliar with fighting ¡ª he had been in many a scrap when he was a teenager ¡ª Dante was ignorant about how to fight well. Through brutal repetition. He learned how to pivot with a punch to impart more power, how to stand so that he was never off balance, and even how to kick. These lessons were not acquired gently and he soon had more bruises than he could count. He also received some more immediate benefits from his training. [Brawl] has advanced to Level 3. ¡°How many are close to level 5?¡± Dante wasn¡¯t surprised that Pauwna had figured out what distracted him. As they fought, she had fettered out generally the rest of his attributes and skills during their sparring. He could only hope to be that observant one day. ¡°Two.¡± She considered that for a second then nodded. ¡°We don¡¯t leave until five. Tell me about them.¡± In the end, they didn¡¯t leave until very late in the night, when they were the last on the field. They continued to spar but Pauwna raised her speed until he couldn¡¯t react anymore. If that wasn¡¯t enough, she would occasionally switch out her fist for a small blood blade. It wasn¡¯t very strong and would shatter only after inflicting light cuts, but it was painful. Like having many paper cuts. If that wasn¡¯t bad enough, she later had him cover his eyes and spar blind. That was truly awful, he stopped being able to block anything and his collection of injuries grew. Eventually, they had to stop. Despite taking frequent breaks, he was at his limit. The fact that he was able to fight this long was a testament to how far he had come. Dante had learned a lot though. During their fights, he increasingly grew used to her superhuman speed. More importantly, he began to figure out how much his body had changed. He was able to take hits that absolutely would have broken bones before. He had not realised how unfamiliar he had been with his own body. Dante had subconsciously been holding back, keeping to human limits. The blindfolded sparring highlighted this further. He could use the crunch of sand to intuit where Pauwna was. He could feel minute air currents against his skin right before she struck. However, he was still a long way from using those things in a real fight. There was something else too. Something he struggled to explain. It almost felt like he could feel things around him. Like his sense of touch extended into the air. It was very faint, but he swore that he could even sense things behind him. They stopped before he could figure out what was causing it, but he would certainly try to find out later. It had been all worth it in the end. As when he left the pit, it was with new notifications. [Sharpen Senses] has advanced to level 5 [Specializations] are available [Split Second Reactions] has advanced to level 5 [Specializations] are available 26 - The Masks We Wear, Part 1 Pauwna glanced back at Dante where he lay in the pit, sweating and bleeding from the numerous scratches she had inflicted upon him. He was well past his limits, but bore it well. The strange man may not be talented, or have the temperament for battle, but he worked as hard as any she had known. Many members of their unit weren¡¯t nearly as dedicated. It was the bare minimum as far as she was concerned if he wanted to survive. He was starting at such a disadvantage. She turned around and continued on her way, setting a course for the heart of the camp. After leaving the training field she quickly stepped off the main thoroughfare, favoring the small side passages between tents. Less people took those paths, narrow and chaotic as they were. At least while on them, she did not have to endure the indignity of being invisible to her fellow soldiers. As she fell into the mindless rhythm of walking, her mind was free to ruminate on her new punching bag. It was clear to her that he had none of the instincts of a fighter and plenty of the bad habits one picks up in peacetime. His build was not meant for direct combat like hers, she was not quite sure what it was meant to do at all. His abilities seemed scattered between defense, observation, and stealth. Despite the lack of challenge during the training, Pauwna still found it enjoyable. It was a decent excuse to exercise. Perhaps this teaching thing isn¡¯t so bad. It¡¯s kind of fun smacking a newbie around. Plus, his face whenever I sneak up on him never gets old. It makes me keep wanting to do it. It¡¯s not like it isn¡¯t helping him out anyway. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like her time with him wasn¡¯t enjoyable. Unlike nearly everyone not of her tribe, he treated her as an equal. The man hung on every single one of her words and never broke his gaze, despite how it pained him. His other social graces were just as bad. Something that caused most of the others to avoid him. A fact that he seemed to know keenly, despite his other failings. It was likely one of the reasons he spent so much time with her, as she didn¡¯t care about such things. Whenever he saw her, he always perked up. It was adorable. Like a puppy seeing its master after a long day. Pauwna had to admit, out of everyone in the army, Dante was her favorite person and it wasn¡¯t even close. A rather large group turned the corner. They were loud, shouting and laughing the way that drunkards often do. Without even looking at her, they spread out until they occupied the entire path, forcing her to step inside the mouth of a tent. Pauwna took special care to gaze upon them with the proper amount of reverence. She did not want trouble, especially not tonight of all nights. When they left her eyesight, she let her face fall back to her customary scowl. With such competition, it was not surprising that a foreigner from a strange land was more likable than any of these people. There were only a select few S¨±nsian¡¯s she had even a modicum of care for. Which was why learning his level had roused a righteous anger in her gut. This wasn¡¯t even his land, but he had been made to fight in the Empire¡¯s rebellion quashing. He was a delicate vase balancing percariously in the middle of raging tempest. It was utter, dumb luck that he had survived this long.. What idiot allowed a Classless onto a battlefield? She bared her teeth in disgust. In her homeland, they would not have allowed such a thing. A Classless would not be considered an adult, much less a warrior. No, they waited until the second evolution at the least. The chances of survival were much higher. At least it won¡¯t be for much longer. Judging by the glassy stare he possessed when she had left him, Pauwna thought he might be looking through his new specializations. The first time she had seen him in such a trance, she was afraid he had hit his head. That had been her first hint that something was different about Dante. She needed to have a talk with him about hiding that. The S¨±nsians would not be happy to figure that out and she saw no reason to out him. After all, he was not a S¨±nsian. She was not surprised that they didn¡¯t know. Even Sv¨­l, who she would consider the next closest to Dante, was completely ignorant. Despite his near constant vigilance. The only reason he hadn¡¯t been present for their sparing was because he had enlisted Pauwna and the rest of the squad in his efforts ¡ª that boor. It was quite like his kind to only judge based on the surface level. To a S¨±nsian, their vision was the most important sense. The higher in their society, the more importance was placed on it. Because of this, their scrutiny often stopped at the skin level. Once you understood this, it was easy enough to trick them. Visually, Dante looked identical to them save for superficial details like hair and eye color. Perhaps facial shape as well, he certainly looked exotic to her, though still within the bounds of what she considered S¨±nsian. Pauwna was under no such illusions and would rate her senses of smell and hearing amongst the highest in the army. To her, Dante smelled different than any S¨±nsian she had ever met. It was a small difference and another might conclude that he simply used an unusual soap, but she was confident in her nose. Even the internal sounds of his body had a different tenor. Pauwna had confirmed it during their sparring. By visualizing mauling the man, she was able to use [Hemetic Precognition] to dissect him in her mind''s eye. It was subtle, but his musculature and the placement of the organs was different. The most obvious case being that his heart was on the wrong side. He even had a few extra organs, the purpose of which she was unsure. She paused as she reached her destination, the market that was always formed by the army''s followers. Given that it was quite late, there were hardly any customers around and most merchants had closed shop. A rare few merchants were still open, though they were often distracted doing inventories or some such. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Now, where is Vun?r? She didn¡¯t see his distinctive cart last time she visited, so she resolved herself to wandering randomly through stalls until she spotted it. She was resigned to it, having to do this every single time. It was annoying but, due to the nature of their work, necessary. Keeping a few eyes open, she began her search and allowed her mind to wander. By itself, discovering a new species would cause some stir. It was thought that all intelligent species had been discovered. The world was mostly explored, so Dante was likely from some truly remote place. Likely, his kind were vanishingly rare. If such a thing were found out, at the very least he would lose whatever preferential treatment his mistaken race had afforded. That was assuming he wouldn¡¯t end up being dissected by some archmage. What was more noteworthy was that she had not seen him perform a single status ritual. At his level and in this environment, he should be doing one every few days. It wasn¡¯t as if he was deliberately putting it off, she had seen him get stronger in a way that only attribute increases could explain. She was certain it was related to the moments in which he would zone out, sometimes for minutes at a time. While such symptoms weren¡¯t uncommon on the battlefield, in fact she knew of many who weren''t quite all there, she didn¡¯t think that malady was the case here. Dante¡¯s eyes were too clear, the movements too deliberate. That knowledge would see him disappear into a dungeon, no doubt about it. The materials used for status rituals were always in incredible demand since everyone needed them. This necessitated that they be placed under state control. If an alternative to the ritual existed ¡­ the implications would be staggering. It was the kind of thing wars were fought over. If the gods weren¡¯t dead, she would have thought they had a hand in this. As it was, Pauwna wasn¡¯t quite sure what to make of it, much less have an idea what to do about it. If nothing else, it would be entertaining to watch what became of him. Amongst the sea of garish colors, Pauwna spotted a pinstriped tent with a red and white pattern. She altered her course and arrived at a sizeable tent which had one of its sides drawn up. Inside was a diverse selection of fabrics, perfumes, powders and lipstick spread across the shelves at the tent''s walls. In the middle, looking quite out of place ¡ª at least to the S¨±nsian eye ¡ª sat a Wraunian. He was large even by their standards. Bolts of fabric lay unraveled and led to an unfinished dress in the hands of the man, much like a fat spider in the middle of its web. Like all others of his kind, he was bare chested and only wore a small tunic. The indigo patterns painted on his body were an especially vivid shade, far more striking than most of his brethren. Vun?r always did like to advertise his wares and his body paints often sold the quickest. He glanced up from the fabric in his hands, a merchant''s grin on his face which soon transformed into a more natural smile as he caught sight of her. ¡°Pauwna! It¡¯s been too long.¡± Vun?r surged to his feet, instantly crowding his tent, and enveloped her in a hug. She endured it for his sake. At least it was less odious than the greetings that the S¨±nsians preferred. ¡°It has, hasn¡¯t it?¡± She said when she was returned to the ground. ¡°How¡¯s the family?¡± ¡°Sv¨©va is doing well, though she has recently been with child. Our third.¡± Family was always a safe topic with Vun?r, it was all he spoke about. She was always happy to let him go on about it as she had been there since the beginning, having been the one who introduced him to his wife. Wait, what was that last part? ¡°Really? You are having another?¡± Pauwna hesitated before adding, ¡°Uh, that is to say congratulations! Please invite me to her name day ceremony.¡± Vun?r¡¯s grin grew awkward and she knew that he had not missed her slip up. Unlike Pauwna¡¯s people, the Wraunians had a custom of forming large families. Vun?r¡¯s would be considered rather on the small side, but he seemed to be intent on fixing that discrepancy. Pauwna did not envy his wife. Though she was sure Sv¨©va was happy, Pauwna would hate to be indisposed for that long. Before the moment could stretch to uncomfortableness, Pauwna piped up: ¡°And the rest of your family?¡± Vun?r was only too happy to continue. ¡°Aside from that, Roan and Slarin are getting bigger every single day. As is the trouble that they are causing, the little Repili! Why just the other day, Slarin collapsed a tent on an officer that was getting mouthy with me. She is so defensive of her Dad!¡± Pauwna listened patiently to the tirade, only interjecting with a ¡°Is that so?¡± or a ¡°really?¡± occasionally to show that she was still listening. She loved Vun?r, but he had a way of getting caught up in his own stories and forgetting himself. It took him many minutes, but he paused at the end of his third story and she had a feeling what his next words would be. ¡°Anyways, you should come and have supper with us. Sv¨©va would be glad to have you. We haven¡¯t had company in a while.¡± Pauwna hesitated, sorely tempted, but decided to press on. ¡°While I would love to Vun?r, I am afraid that I came here on business. Another time.¡± A sad look passed over Vun?r¡¯s face and he sighed heavily. He reached into a drawer, withdraw a crystalline enchanted item and turned a knob. All sound outside the tent disappeared. Ushering her into his shop, he began drawing the open side of the tent closed. Pauwna squeezed past his bulk as he finished undoing the flap, then he began pushing aside some of his displays in the back. ¡°Always business with you Pauwna, never anytime to visit old friends eh?¡± She snorted as he rolled up the carpet, revealing compacted dirt. Vun?r grabbed on to an innocuous rock and heaved. It resisted him for a second, then a square section of the floor swung upwards, now revealed as a disguised trapdoor. Below, a dark passageway yawned deep into the earth. ¡°You know for a fact that isn¡¯t true,¡± she said as she descended a few steps, ¡°Why I just visited a few weeks ago. I didn¡¯t even bring up the cause once during the entire visit.¡± She was expecting a laugh and when that failed to arrive, she glanced backwards to see Vun?r looking at her with uncharacteristic seriousness. ¡°You know what I mean. The cause isn¡¯t everything Pauwna. You have sacrificed enough and the risk ¡ª¡± ¡°Psshh, your one to talk! Besides, I can never be done with the Empire until it is done with me!¡± She snapped back, then winced at the hurt look on Vun?r¡¯s face. She returned up the steps to lay a comforting hand on his arm. ¡°I need to do this.¡± Pauwna said sadly, ¡°Things can¡¯t continue as they have been and I have the power to change things. I have to do this.¡± Vun?r patted her hand a couple times then removed it gently, sighing loudly once again. ¡°I know. I don¡¯t agree, but you have your mind set on this. Just ¡­ be careful, ok? Know that you will always have a friend in me.¡± Pauwna nodded, then turned her back on Vun?r and descended to the bottom of the stairs. Stone grinded on stone as Vun?r lowered the slab. Right before the last slip of light died out, Pauwna murmured into the darkness. ¡°I can¡¯t promise that. But I will try.¡± 27 - The Masks We Wear, Part 2 Pauwna shuffled into the tunnel, trailing one hand along the wall to right herself. It was not a large tunnel. She could touch the other wall if she reached out with her other hand. Every ten or so paces, the rough stone of the wall would be interrupted by carvings. Though the light had never touched this place, she knew they were suppression runes of the highest quality. It wouldn¡¯t do for a geomancer or other specialist to discover this secret. Normally, the pitch blackness would pose little problem to her enhanced senses but she took care to restrain her gifts to the bounds of her body. Even considering the abundant protections in place, she would not tempt fate. The variety of magics bestowed by the Divine were boundless and it was impossible to ward against everything. Being bereft of her gifts, save those provided by her attributes and auras, was always unnerving. It took her a few minutes to feel right on her feet again. But time was something she had in abundance. After a while of fumbling, the wall stopped and was replaced by stagnant air. Pauwna had been expecting this. These tunnels were extensive and ever-changing. Sections were added and removed as circumstances required. Likely no one knew the true extent of the tunnels. Not even her. She brushed her fingers across the corner of the intersection, first reaching high, then low. There. She ran her fingers over a particularly dense network of carvings. These were different from the wards on the wall, being characters rather than pictographs. However, these letters could not be found amongst any of the known languages. It was a code known only to followers of the cause. Pauwna would know. She was the one who had made it. Let¡¯s see ¡­ stockpile ¡­ meeting hall ¡­ ah! Audience chamber. She continued forward. Several more intersections came and went. Pauwna tracked her progress and soon was able to place where she was on her internal map. She grimaced at the particular path her journey had taken her. It looked like they had to give up most of the tunnels close to the front. That was where the Empire was the most vigilant and they had to be cautious. Regardless, it looked like the network had shrunk by about a third. Pauwna put such distractions from her mind as she approached her destination. For the first time since she had entered here, a glimmer of light shined from ahead. It was faint, but more than enough for her enhanced senses. With it, she could make out the magic supperressing runes. They were far more crowded here and were only becoming more dense. She turned the corner and came face to face with a door framed by two magelight enchanted crystals. The door was distinctly different from the architecture so far. It was made of metal for one, and was inscribed by miniscule runes crammed so thickly together it appeared like the door was cracked. The sight of it caused a spike of dread and she had to take a moment to build up her nerve. Once she had recovered her composure and was projecting a calm, assured air, she opened it. Inside, she found herself in a perfectly spherical room. It was sizable, an entire platoon could fit down here comfortably. Every inch of it had the same degree of magical script inscribed on it in a stunning display of complexity. It gave her a migraine when she looked at it too closely, so she looked elsewhere. A walkway led to the center of the sphere, where a crystal orb hung suspended in the air. From the rounded walls of the chamber protruded massive crystal prongs, many women long, all pointed at the orb. At the top of the chamber lay a small hole that extended into the ceiling as far as even her enhanced sense could see. It was packed with metallic rope which stretched from the hole to various points around the chamber. Many ritual paper charms hung from each like leaves on a vine. She was always impressed by the audacity of it all. Especially given the knowledge of where it led. Pauwna pictured it, the threads running from this room to the Empire¡¯s command pavilion above. Each thread tapped into a different part of their magical network. Just observing, unfortunately, anything more active would be picked up. Still, the sheer audacity of it all. Spying on the Empire in its most secure place. Save the Royal Palace of course. It turns out that the best place to hide was right beneath their noses. Every time she entered this place, a wave of resentment flooded her system. The resources that had been expended to create this room were staggering. To create such magical arrays so quickly, an expert from Avlend had been hired. One of the best in the world. He had to be smuggled into the camp discreetly and left to do his work for days. The raw materials were a princely sum and restricted to boot. It was a colossal waste. Only the scrying orb in the middle and the wires were needed. However, their benefactors demanded it. She would be a fool to go against them. Preparing herself, she walked up to the suspended crystal orb and tapped it thrice. It began pulsing steadily and Pauwna settled in to wait. She had arrived early with this in mind. She couldn¡¯t afford to be late. It would be a grave insult, ¡®superior beings did not wait. Pauwna loathed it. She wished that they didn¡¯t need them. But, the cause couldn¡¯t be accomplished without resources. Their collaborators, for all their flaws, had that in spades. Still, the day would come for a reckoning. The pulsing of the orb steadied and a low hum resounded through the room. Sections of script light up on the walls, lights began to play through the crystal probes, and colored mist coalesced. It billowed out through the chambering, coalescing into a large figure. First came the serpentine shape, then the wooden texture, and finally brown and green colors. The illusion sharpened into an image indistinguishable from reality. In front of her, in all of its majesty, was the Black Wind. It¡¯s bulk swelled to fill the chamber, making the sizable space feel cramped. Its deer-like skull alone was many times her size, the fire within each socket a blazing inferno. The scales of bark that covered its form were now whole, no gashes or burns remained. Even then, only the dragon¡¯s head and chest fit into the chamber. Coincidentally, the image only came up to the tops of its forelegs. Hiding the missing leg that High Princess Ahzi had claimed. It was a conscious decision, she was sure. All the other times they had met, the dragon had presented the entire front half of their body. It stuck in Pauwna¡¯s mind since the Black Wind loved to threaten her with them. So it seems like the Black Wind¡¯s pride will not allow them to appear weak before me. That, more than anything, confirmed to her that it was still injured. Important information that she filed away for later. Pride was inherent to their kind. It was why this chamber had been built. And why she hated them nearly as much as the Empire. Oh, what could have been if they had not ended up in control¡­ Before the image had entirely manifested, Pauwna Swept into an Ahsmati bow that ended with her on her knees. It was perfect, a fact born of much practice. It was the main reason she had been selected for this task. She loathed it, but endured it. For the cause. The dragon would beget nothing but perfect respect. ¡°Your humble servant awaits your command, your Excellency, The Black Wind that scourages the land, Antithesis of the S¨±nsians, Ravager of the W?lian Empire, and they who brings the end.¡± The Black Wind snaked its head down to peer closely at her. The baleful fire in its eyes radiated heat despite being a projection and each of its teeth were as long as she was tall. Even knowing it was an image, Ahzi had to fight to keep from trembling. It sniffed her, the wind gusting towards it, and she had to wonder if the illusion transfer that information. ¡°Barely acceptable, you have missed ¡®The most ancient of the Ahsmati.¡¯¡± Oh please you overgrown lizard, like that is impressive. Even I am older than you. They didn¡¯t require that title last time either¡­ You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Pauwna let none of that sentiment appear on her face. Instead, she bowed forward until her head touched the cold floor. ¡°A thousand pardons, Ancient One. This one¡¯s poor memory failed her and she most humbly asks for your grace. Before your splendor, I forgot myself.¡± The dragon puffed itself up, visibly preening, before saying: ¡°I suppose in my boundless mercy, I can find it in myself to forgive you. Rejoice mortal, for not many earn a second chance.¡± Too easy. ¡°I shall tell tales of your generosity to my children, Great One.¡± ¡°As you should. Now, you have tidings worthy of my priceless time?¡± ¡°Yes, Great One.¡± Pauwna took a second to reorganize her thoughts, ¡°The Awlsul guard have left the capital and are preparing to take to the field, as they must to have a chance to resist your power.¡± This revelation received only silence and Pauwna was forced to wait on his grace. Unlike S¨±nsian sensibilities, it was rude to stare. So she was forced to stay in her prostrate position without moving or looking up. The dragon had not given her permission to stand. Likely the thought never crossed its mind. Just as her bare knees were beginning to ache from being pressed into the raw stone, the Black Wind spoke. ¡°So the False Queen is finally sending away her protectors. She must have tired of being bled like a stuck pig.¡± Pauwna could feel a breeze and out of the corner of her eye she could see a tail as tall as a cliff coiling around her. ¡°Tell me lesser, the high ranks are taking the field too, aren¡¯t they? Along with that blasphemer who dared blemish my scales?¡± For all that the elemental dragons were arrogant and shortsided, they were not stupid. Pauwna wondered just how much she should tell it. She wanted the creature to value them, but also didn¡¯t want to give too much knowledge away. The Ahsmati were already winning the war handily and that wouldn¡¯t do. At the very least, there was one piece of information she had to give away. ¡°The Blasphemer intends to take the breach personally. Based on past operations, the majority of the high ranks will accompany her. However, she is rash and has been known to abandon them.¡± With luck, he will be satisfied with just that. If he pushes, I can give a few more scraps, but I cannot mention the second operation. ¡°And the rest of the army?¡± ¡°Concentrated for the assault, leaving the rest of the defensive line spread thin.¡± ¡°Is there anything else?¡± ¡°None, Great One.¡± ¡°Are you sure? Nothing ¡­ strange has happened? Something that was so far out of the ordinary that it defies explanation? Anything at all, however small.¡± What in the world is that question? Gone was the ceremony the dragons were attached to. Gone was the bluster. Its tail was flicking from side to side and the Black Wind had adopted a slight hunch that reminded her of a startled cat. If Pauwna didn¡¯t know any better, she thought the Black Wind might look nervous. Pauwna did not like this. This was not normal, unexpected. What was not known could not be accounted for. What could the Black Wind possibly be concerned about? Something strange, completely out of the ordinary, and unexpected? A face leapt unbidden into her mind. One with unusual features, eyes as green as grass, and hair the color of straw. A visage she had seen earlier that day. Dante. No. That can¡¯t be right, can it? Sure, his circumstances fit what the Black Wind was asking, but what possible reason could they be interested in him? Pauwna had no idea. While strange, he did not seem special or noteworthy enough. Then again, the princess had a personal interest in him as well. Perhaps she should reevaluate his worth. But that was a question for another time. The Black Wind was looking increasingly out of sorts and a nervous dragon was not good for anyone. ¡°My heart weeps Great One that I may not satisfy your dictate, no such events come to my feeble mind.¡± A gust of warm air gusted over her and she could smell the sickly sweet smell of rot. She struggled not to gag. Then the head withdrew. ¡°Disappointing.¡± Pauwna¡¯s pulse skyrocketed before the dragon said the next words almost offhandedly. ¡°But not unexpected for an inferior to be ignorant of the affairs of dragons and gods.¡± She let out a constrained sigh. Sometimes, very rarely, the Ahsmati bigotry worked out in her favor. She would make them regret that. ¡°Hear me, servant and obey.¡± The Black Wind reared back to its full heights and spread it wings to envelop the chamber. Pauwna knew that it was meant to be intimidating, she intellectually understood it was posturing, but her body still reacted. Her breath drew short, limbs shook, and the rank smell of sweat filled the air. And she hated the dragon for it. ¡°When the moment of the assault comes, ensure that Empire overreaches. When they are overextended and are at their moment of greatest need, abandon them. Sabotage their support and cut their supply lines.¡± Pauwna froze. She was so shocked that she nearly forgot a perfunctory, ¡°Your will be done, Great One,¡± before the connection was cut and the image dispersed into colorful motes. Fortunately, the dragon didn¡¯t seem to notice her slight disrespect. That order ¡­ it means coming out openly in support of the Ahsmati. To backstab our homeland. We would be dubbed traitors and no one would trust us again. Why would the Black Wind do such a thing after all of our years of cooperation? Pauwna left the chamber for the tunnels, hardly paying attention to where she was going. She contemplated the problem, approaching it from every angle she could conceive. But only one answer made sense. The Black Wind is certain of victory. Why? What has changed? Have they discovered some wonder weapon or some new vector of attack? Currently, while the Ahsmati were winning. It was a slow thing but sure thing, like a poison. The high ranks of the Empire refuse to give battle and rely on their homefield advantage. At great cost to their lower-level members. It was a losing strategy because, while the number of high ranks largely remained unchanged, no new ones are joining them. The Ahsmati by comparison, had been steadily building their strength. It was a fact that levels decided everything and that was unchanged between the kingdoms as far as Pauwna was aware. She simply did not know. Her fingers met the rungs of a ladder and she realized that she had arrived at her destination. The night was not over for her and Pauwna felt a wave of weariness. As she leafed through her bag, she promised herself that she would rest after this task. For a few hours anyway. From her bag, she swapped her clothes. Now, she wore an obscuring cloak and plain clothes. A quick application of powder and makeup changed the tone of her exposed skin. Subtle shading changed the structure of her face. The disguise was completed with a wig, which changed her hair color from black to a lustrous red. She ascended the ladder and lifted the lid at the top. Pauwna found herself in the back of a busy mess tent. None of the cooks seemed surprised as she clambered out of the oddly sturdy barrel she had exited from. One even gave her a nod before he went back to stirring his pot. She adjusted her clothes, reseated the lid of the barrel, and then exited by ducking under one of the tent sides. Looking up at the sky, she cursed as she realized that daybreak was close. She hustled to her next appointment, back the way she came but overland this time. She soon arrived at a massive command pavilion. A constant stream of messengers and officers streamed out of every single entrance, even at this hour. She made for one of the less trafficked entrances. As she approached, the guards eyed her but did not bar her entry. Inside, she found herself in a small office that had been sectioned off from the rest of the tent with dividing screens. There was a diminutive women sitting at a desk paging through reports stacked so high they nearly hid her. She gazed at Pauwna with eyes framed by sagging black bags and blinked blearly. Recognition lit them a moment later and she stood up with a start, nearly causing a deluge of papers. ¡°Miss Tanla!¡± The mousy woman exclaimed as she hurriedly righted her stacks, ¡°We have been expecting you! If you wouldn¡¯t mind coming this way.¡± Pauwna blinked, her earlier unease returning with a vengeance. This was also not normal. What was with today? She did follow the mousey woman, but had a brief urge to flee. Something has changed. The urge built up as she was led deeper into the command center, past rows of desks filled with sleepy clerks. She had never been this far. They finally turned off into another sectioned off area and her panic crescendoed. Sitting at a desk facing the entrance, was a man she had only ever seen from afar. Moeris, the right hand of Princess Ahzi. ¡°Ah, Miss Tanla! I am to understand you have information for us?¡± He pointed at a chair in front of his large desk, ¡°Please, take a seat.¡± For a long moment, she contemplated her chance of fleeing, then disregarded it as unlikely. Instead, she took the proffered chair and did her best to look as respectful as she waited, feeling like she was in the belly of the beast even more so than earlier. And wait she did, completely at his mercy. Eventually, he dipped his quill back in ink and leaned back in his chair. He inspected her and Pauwna wished she had put more effort into this disguise. ¡°So, what do you have for me?¡± 28 - The Fruits of His Labor, Part 1 Dante sat cross-legged on the sand, eyes closed. The late-day sun was pleasantly warm, a salve to his many aches. A medley of bruises and cuts demanded his attention, on top of the many other concerns he had. He tried to clear his mind because, well, that''s what you do during meditation, right? No matter how often he did, they always had a habit of creeping back. How long is this moment of calm going to last? Will I be ready? How should I escape? Or should I escape? And, above all others. Will I ever be able to go back? This last one especially had been weighing on him. He had time to process all the events after his death and he decided to face the possibility. That he would never be able to go back. Nothing about this reincarnation had been like his expectations. Why should his assumption that there would be a way back also be true? If he were to accept this, then what was the point in all of this? There was a sharp pain between his eyes and he opened them to see Pauwna leaning forward, her finger cocked like she had just delivered a flick. ¡°Ow.¡± He complained, rubbing a new bruise that was quickly forming. She had not held back. ¡°Your breathing was unsteady. Crowded thoughts. Train your mind, train your body.¡± Before he could ask what that meant, she had sat back outside the range of [Overloaded Warding Flesh] and closed her eyes. Not wanting to interrupt her, he followed suit. Training with Pauwna was often like this. She did not like to mince words and often taught through ¡®example¡¯. Which always resulted in more sparing. The woman was a battle fanatic. Ever since he had started training with her a few days ago, he hadn¡¯t rested for a single moment save for a daily visit to the baths. Those were necessary given how sweaty and blood he tended to be soaked in after these matches. Given how much time he had spent in this sparing field, he might as well live here. If Dante wasn¡¯t practicing his marksmanship with T¡¯zonos, he was here receiving his daily dose of bruises. At least it confirmed that he healed faster than was naturally possible for a human. Dante had the records to prove it. After a few days, his first injuries had faded to thin white lines and discolored splotches. Even those were rapidly disappearing. It was like the entire healing process had been sped up. Not that it mattered. He was accumulating injuries faster than they healed. A fact that he was keenly aware of as he was in more and more pain every day. More tired as well. It was strange, though endurance was one of his highest attributes, his stamina seemed unchanged. Perhaps even worse than before. When he had asked Pauwna about it, she hadn¡¯t had an answer for him beyond asking if he had a disease or an ability that used stamina. Annnnd he had gotten distracted again. This was hard. Maybe if he concentrated on something external? He remembered hearing something about that and meditation. Dante focused on his senses other than sight, keeping his eyes closed. He could hear the wet sound of struck flesh, feel the momentary gusts caused by some of the field''s more scary combatants, and smell the stench of old sweat accumulated over the years. Dante wrinkled his nose, very much wishing that he had not noticed the last one. Then, there was that one strange sensation. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Describing it was like trying to explain a color to the blind. It had been nagging Dante ever since he had noticed it a few days ago. It was like noticing you could control the rhythm of your breathing. Except it never faded. He chased the feeling, determined to figure it out. It was giving him some kind of feedback, but he couldn¡¯t understand it. Though ¡­ it changed when he focused on it, growing more intense. It was more than one sensation! Progress. He hyperfocused on them, trying to tease them apart. Some strange version of touch and ¡­ vibration? There were other things there too, but it was too much, so he restricted himself to the touch-like one. Strangely, it felt separate from his body, like touching water through thick rubber gloves. With this new sensation, he felt the sand around him. All at once. On the very edge he could feel something strange. It was overwhelming and Dante could feel a headache nearing. He persevered and pressed onwards. He could sense ¡­ a face? ¡°Mind training went well?¡± Dante opened his eyes to see Pauwna leaning forwards to look at him. She pointed down and he followed the finger. There was nothing there except for sand. Some of it was contorted by [Overloaded Warding Flesh], but otherwise was normal. He frowned, uncomphrending of why she was pointing. Looking between her face and the sand, he was about to say so when a realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. The ring of sand before him was broken. Usually during their training sessions, Dante was constantly surrounded by a slight ridge of sand at all times as [Overloaded Warding Flesh] pushed away the top layer. Eventually an equilibrium would be reached and he would be left in a small depression. Or so it had been until after his meditation. Now a small ¡®V¡¯ shaped channel had been carved toward¡¯s Pauwna, almost as if he had taken his hands and pushed the sand towards her. It wasn¡¯t a big change, only a few inches had shifted from the normal boundary, but he had done it without moving. With his mind. Dante tried to replicate his mindset from before. It was harder with his eyes open, but he knew what to look for. He was rewarded with a headache and movement as something invisible parted the sand again. There was no doubt now, he could manipulate the boundary of his ability. More, he could ¡®feel¡¯ through it. As this realization struck him, a notification opened before him. [Overloaded Warding Flesh] has reached Level 7 You have acquired the [Aura Manipulation] skill. A little bit late isn¡¯t it? I noticed the new sense days ago. Maybe I have to reach a certain level of understanding for it to trigger? It also seems to have advanced my most problematic ability. Can¡¯t exactly say I am thrilled about that. Also, aura? What, should I start using crystals with this thing or something? After thinking it over, he decided he quite liked the skill. With a little practice, it was a tidy solution to his problems with eating. Something that was especially welcome given that [Overloaded Warding Flesh] had also leveled. It gave him a way to see in his blind spots, though it currently took too much concentration to be useful. Most importantly, it opened up a lot of new possibilities. Why, just off the top of his head, he could use it to empower his crossbow more. ¡°Stop thinking, start fighting.¡± He moved without thinking, throwing himself back and scrambling to his feet. It was barely in time. A fist soared through the space his skull used to be. He backpedaled and fell into a loose combat stance. It wasn¡¯t the first time Pauwna had pulled that trick on him. Admittedly, it was the first time he had dodged it. Ensuring that he kept his stance steady, he backpedaled. It was one of the first things he had learned. If you didn¡¯t have solid footing, you fell. You went to the ground, you died. Pauwna did not let up, dogging him. Normally, he would be content with fighting defensively. This time, however, he was frustrated. When he was cornered, Dante abruptly reversed direction and charged Pauwna. She dodged nimbly out of the way and stepped behind him, into his blind spot. Dante had been expecting that. Dante concentrated on his new sense and waited. Gotcha! Reaching blindly, he grabbed Pauwna¡¯s foot right before it smashed into the side of his head. Dante grinned at the small victory. Then, pain erupted on the other side of his head. Pauwna had used his grip on her to leverage a kick with her opposite foot. They went to the ground and Dante was placed into a chokehold. He gave up, tapping her arm. Any contest of strength with her was doomed for failure. She did not immediately release him, instead she patted his cheek playfully. ¡°Better. Less thinking. New skill good, although slow. But, plan bad. Careful. When you think fooled, easy to be fooled.¡± She let him up and Dante climbed carefully to his feet. Even moving his face caused a pulling sensation. Likely, a sizable bruise. If I were back on Earth, people would think I was getting abused with all of these bruises. Dante assumed a combat stance, resigned to another round. However, Pauwna waved him off and began climbing out of the pit. After a surprised moment, he followed her. Seeing his questioning look, Pauwna told him: ¡°Rest. Fight tomorrow. Real fight¡± It took him a second to figure out what that meant, but when he did, the amount of terror that those words brought him was unmatched. Greater than the time when the judge had sentenced him to one year of medium security jail or when he was told his fingers couldn¡¯t be reattached after the accident. Firm hands clamped over his own and he realized that he had been trembling. Dante looked up into Pauwna¡¯s sunset orange eyes. Usually he would shy away from such contact, but he was surprised that he did not feel that now. This had only ever occurred with his sister and a few of his good friends. ¡°Hey. Slow your breathing. You are ok.¡± He followed her advice, and steadied his breaths. To his surprise, it did help. It was only after a solid minute that he realized that Pauwna had walked him over to a bench where she had sat them down. ¡°Sorry.¡± Dante averted his gaze, realized that was bad manners, then flicked it back up. If anything, this made a small smile appear on her face. ¡°It scares me. The fight.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± He looked up at her in shock and found that she was staring into the distance with a wistful look. ¡°Fear is a warning. Keeps you sharp. Be afraid when it is gone.¡± She hesitated for a moment, then continued: ¡°Sorry, but I am needed. Are you ok?¡± ¡°Sorry yes, bad thoughts gone. Don¡¯t worry.¡± Pauwna patted his hands and then released them. She gave him a piercing look, like she was trying to read his mind, then walked away. Leaving him to stew over those words. And that look. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Dante had been the target of many such looks from her recently and he felt like their relationship had changed in some subtle way. He wasn¡¯t quite sure what to make of it. It was like some distance had been reintroduced between them. Why this had happened, he wasn¡¯t sure. Dante didn¡¯t remember anything happening between them, but it wouldn¡¯t be the first time something like that happened. Having nothing better to do, Dante decided to return to his tent for an early night. He certainly was tired enough. He had something he wanted to test anyway and he could not afford to miss it. With a thought, he opened his [Status].
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 4 Attributes
Alacrity 9 Endurance 14 (17)
Charisma 7 Fortitude 17
Cognition 14 Perception 11
Constitution 18 Strength 8
Dexterity 12 Willpower 14
Skills
Aura Manipulation (Rare) 1
Brawl (Common) 4
Crossbow (Uncommon) 3
Deception (Common) 1
Lock Picking (Uncommon) 4
Logic (Rare) 4
Builder (Common) 6
Sleight of Hand (Uncommon) 1
Stealth (Uncommon) 2
Abilities
Chameleon (Rare) 3
Sharpen Senses (Uncommon) [Specializations Available] 5
Split Second Reaction (Rare) [Specializations Available] 5
Warding Flesh (Unique) 7
Traits
Fickle Fate (Unique) MAX
Human Tenacity (Racial) 4
3008
Dante glanced over the list and happily noted that [Aura Manipulation] was rare. His eyes lingered on [Brawl], which had leveled again a few days ago, before being drawn to the line at the very bottom. The strange one. Now that he wasn¡¯t being threatened with death daily, he had more time to think about what it was. He had a theory about what it was about, but had no way to confirm it. Dante rather hoped he was wrong. It was a rather grim theory. That wasn¡¯t the important thing anyway. For a while now, his interface had been changing. It had started rather bare bones, not even telling him the rarity or what his abilities did. Both of those functions had been added soon after he came, first telling him a little, then a lot about what they did. All that time, the unknown number had been counting down. Since that realization, Dante had been watching it like a hawk but no further changes were forthcoming. However, this was the first time it was now nearing 3000. If something was going to happen, it was going to be then. Dante had reached his tent by this point. He was getting better at navigating through the camp and only rarely had to consult his map. Drawing back the flap, he sighed in relief when Sv¨­l was not revealed. It was always awkward when they were both there and that was only partly because of the limited space. Despite Dante trying many a time, Sv¨­l refused to open up to him. Whenever he tried to initiate a conversation, he only ever got one or two word answers. The man never acknowledged his existence beyond what was required. All of this only reinforced the jailor and prison relationship that he felt they had. All of this meant that it was very hard to relax when the man was around. Dante climbed into the tent and kept the flap drawn. After checking if the number had changed ¡ª it had not ¡ª, he sighed and took his journal out of the bag. It was now bound with leather strips that he had salvaged from a set of ruined armor he had found. He flipped through pages of notes on his abilities, his incomplete map of the camp, and many notes on language. It was only until about three quarters of the way through that he found a blank page and he lamented that he would have to buy more paper. Then, he began taking notes on the new words and features of the new language. He made sure to practice everything that he could. As per his norm, he occasionally took a break to use [Chameoleon], though ability remained stubbornly at level 3. It was quickly becoming his greatest regret and he felt it was far less useful than his other abilities. Harder to level as well. Maybe, I am training it wrong. Perhaps I need to try something else? He decided to ask Pauwna the next time he saw her. It wasn¡¯t until well after the sun set and he was alone with his thoughts that the number turned to three thousand. He rubbed his eyes, checking again, before sitting bolt upright. He opened his status only to find that nothing had changed. Refusing to believe that he could be wrong, he checked his [Split Second Reaction] specialization and was delighted.
Choose a new [Specialization] for [Split Second Reaction] Overloaded (Rare)
Effect: Increase all aspects for a short period, but will only activate when you have charges.
Requirements: Unlocked by facing enemies more than 20 levels above you.
Dilated (Legendary)
Effect: In a small area around you, the external time stream mirrors your own. Sharply reduces ability power.
Requirements: Negate an attack with chronal authority with an aura while not having a class.
Frozen (Rare)
Effect: Time stops for you. You are not able to take any actions during this time, but can think and sense normally.
Requirements: None.
Dante released a breath he had been holding, falling back to his bed roll in relief. The interface had changed. He had been right to wait! The section about the unlocking requirements had not been there earlier. It wasn¡¯t necessarily what he wanted, he would have preferred the exact percentages abilities would change, but it was enough to prove it. Reading through the options only increased his excitement. My first legendary option! It¡¯s about time with the shit that I have gone through. No beginner should have to face a dragon in his first month! That¡¯s like fantasy 101. Finally I am rewarded for that! Now, what about the other specialization?
Choose a new [Specialization] for [Sharpen Senses] Overloaded (Rare)
Effect: Increase all aspects for a short period, but will only activate when you have charges.
Requirements: Unlocked by facing enemies more than 20 levels above you.
Focused (Uncommon)
Effect: Choose a sense. Greatly increase that sense but lose enhancements to all others.
Requirements: None
Mana (Uncommon)
Effect: In addition to other effects, this unlocks the ability to see Mana.
Requirements: Manipulate an aura.
Predictive (Rare)
Effect: The path of all objects in motion will become obvious to you.
Requirements: Used a ranged weapon conjunction with two abilities, including this one.
At least he had more options here. He was beginning to think that three options were the max. Though he was slightly disappointed to see no legendaries here. I am getting greedy. Legendaries are likely ¡­ well legendary. Having one is probably a big thing. The only question left is, which to pick? 29 - The Fruits of His Labor, Part 2 The only thing Dante was sure about was that he needed to balance greed with practicality. Tomorrow, they went to war. He had to be prepared for that. So far, he had survived through luck and couldn¡¯t count on that forever. With that in mind, he felt that the [Overloaded] specialization made more sense for both. It allowed him to punch above his weight, if only briefly. But ¡­ Dante read the description for [Temporal] again. What does this mean? Time streams? I apparently have one. Maybe it¡¯s my perception of time? That would make sense as it slows that down already. So does that mean that the world, or at least a small part of it, will now move at that speed? Dante kneaded the sides of his head, trying to think through the implications of that. This felt different from the rest of his abilities. The others made his eyesight better or painted his skin. This altered the fundamental laws of the universe. It made him very nervous. I already had such trouble with [Overloaded Warding Flesh], I can¡¯t even imagine what the side effects of this could be. I have no idea if this will always be on for one. Like, at high levels, will food rot before it reaches my mouth? I can¡¯t even use the downswing of the charges to counteract it! Although ¡­ I wonder if [Aura Manipulation] would work with it? He had no way of knowing if it would, so this remained a dangerous choice. The upsides were ¡­ also uncertain. Time would slow down near him when it activated, sure, but would his body be caught up? Dante hoped not, it would make the ability an active downside. Plus, it said it would sharply reduce ability power. Dante decided to put that question aside for the moment and focus on [Sharpen Senses]. He thought his options there were more clear-cut. He could discard [Focused]. In sparing Pauwna he had found every sense useful. Mana, while having the potential to increase his understanding of the world, didn¡¯t seem as immediately useful as the other options. If he had more time, he would take that risk. Which narrowed his options down to [Overloaded] and [Predictive]. He nearly wanted to give it to [Predictive], it would make working with his crossbow a cinch, if not for one factor. The unlock requirements. The newest addition to his interface, every single one of his options had one. Some were quite obscure. It only followed that classes would be the same way. There had to be a good class unlocked if he chose the right abilities. Dante opened his character sheet and displayed it along the two specialization windows. He had figured that out while waiting for the number to reach three thousand. The interface was surprisingly malleable. He traced a finger from [Overloaded Warding Flesh] to the [Overloaded] specialization for [Split Second Reactions] to the same option on [Sharpen Senses]. A trinity of synergy. There had to be a class for grabbing all of them. The question was, would it be worth it? For [Sharpen Senses], Dante would take that chance in a heartbeat. But for [Split Second Reactions]? The stakes were a lot higher. A legendary was on the line. It came down to the legendary ability in front of him or a potential synergistic class. Dante groaned, flopping to the mattress. There was an obvious right answer, but he also knew which one his heart had decided on. He locked in his choices. [Sharpen Senses] has acquired the specialization [Overloaded]. [Split Second Reactions] has acquired the specialization [Temporal]. Hopefully, two instances of [Overloaded] would be enough to unlock the class, if it even existed. Dante glanced over at his status to see if anything had changed. There was one change. Instead of being called Temporal Split Second Reactions, the ability had been renamed to [Temporal Reactions]. Glad to avoid that mess. I was wondering why all the high-level ability names weren¡¯t an entire sentence long. I am glad to see that it isn¡¯t always active, that would have been a nightmare. Let¡¯s give it a try. Dante fetched the small knife that Sv¨­l had given him. He prepared himself ¡ª this was never easy ¡ª, then slashed at his hand. When the blade was two inches away from flesh, he felt the ability activate and the knife slowed to a crawl. This can¡¯t be right, He thought as he aborted the strike right before it contacted his skin. It feels almost the same as before. Perhaps a bit stronger, sure, but now it only activates when it¡¯s close to my skin. Time is supposed to slow down for it in the real world. The only problem is, how can I tell if it has when time is already that speed for me? I must be missing something. After a few more repetitions, he picked out a discrepancy. He had assumed that no slowdown was happening before the blade neared his flesh. This was incorrect. There was a slowing as the knife became a threat, it was a fraction of what it had been previously. He raged at not being able to tie am number to it, but preserved regardless. Everything about the ability was so hard to quantify. I am at a loss for words. This isn¡¯t working like the ability description at all, isn¡¯t it? It still somewhat works like before, just weaker. It wasn¡¯t until an ill-consider experiment where he threw the knife at himself and managed to knick himself that he gave up. His curiosity had gotten the better of him. Dante resheathed the knife and tucked it in his bag. Out of sight, out of mind. It was less tempting that way. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. I guess I have found a new passion. Not sure if anything else has caused me to focus so hard before. Alright. So, [Temporal Reactions] is weak until a few inches away where it is stronger than before. Why this is the case, damned if I know. Mentally shutting the book on that, Dante moved on to the next ability. Fortunately, this one proved to be easier to measure. He had designed experiments for this. Dante went down the list, creating a new column for Level 4. He did a simple percentage calculation, then set the book down, and crossed his arms. Twenty percent. Across the board. That was how much all of his senses had improved. It even went up to fifty percent when he activated his charge. All from one level. No wonder everyone here is so damn scary. Something about those numbers wasn¡¯t sitting right with him. On a hunch, he flipped his journal open to his past readings. To the results from [Warding Flesh]. I thought so, the charge from [Warding Flesh] increased its power by more. Maybe because it¡¯s a higher level? Or perhaps because it¡¯s a unique? Why does this have to be so hard? Dante groaned and rubbed at his eyes. Then he put the book away, that was enough for now. He wasn¡¯t going to figure out the answers tonight. Dante had a feeling he wasn¡¯t going to figure out this particular mystery for a while. The sun had set, so he gathered up his blankets and tried to go to sleep. Sv¨­l returned shortly after, reeking of alcohol. He must have been fairly into his cups, as he tripped over Dante and jostled him when he climbed into his bed roll. Dante couldn¡¯t say that''s what he would have done right before a battle, but to each their own. What followed was one of the most miserable nights in his life. Dante kept tossing and turning, his limbs filled with a nervous energy. A vigor that he seemed to share with Sv¨­l, as Dante received more than one elbow to the ribs. His thoughts kept returning to his new abilities but he dared not practice anything for fear of disturbing his unruly bunkmate more. Drunk people were unpredictable at the best of times, and they usually did not carry weapons. Dwelling on that was better than thinking of tomorrow. This was the first time he had been warned of a battle. He quickly found that he would have preferred ignorance. All he could think about was how woefully prepared he was. Despite his training, nearly everyone remained at a level far above him. A week''s worth of practice did not make up for a lifetime''s worth of experience. He did not even have a weapon save for the small knife Sv¨­l had given him. It was laughable. What was a knife going to do against the Black Wind? This is going to be worse than anything I¡¯ve been in. We are attacking. I will leave the safety of the trenches for some damned WWI style charge. I don¡¯t want to do this. I want to run away. This is ridiculous. Fuck, this is bad. Dante lurched to his feet and ran for the latrines. He barely made it before he puked, the bile joining the waste below. The smell nearly made him wretch a second time, but he backed away and wiped his mouth with an arm. He was a little unsteady on his feet but did feel a bit better. Though ¡­ he gazed down to see his pants were stained with mud. At least, he hoped it was just that. He was filthy. A trip to the well it was then. After a thorough rinsing, he felt like a man reborn. Despite not feeling tired at all, he decided to return to his tent. He needed to try to get some sleep. I need to be at the top of my game. Fighting tired would be awful. My chances are bad enough as is. Right as he turned the corner to his tent¡¯s row, he was surprised to see Sv¨­l parting the tent flaps. The man blinked blearily, then set out in a direction away from the latrines. This was not uncommon, usually one of them would have to go during the night and would often wake the other up. The tent was tight enough that it was unavoidable. This felt different. It was something about the cast of the man''s shoulders and his furtive glances. Sv¨­l turned the corner and Dante, after a moment''s consideration, followed. Dante could not say exactly why he did it. It was some strange combination of curiosity and a desperate need for distraction. But before he knew what he was doing, he was trailing a few tent rows behind Sv¨­l. It wasn¡¯t his first tailing job. He knew that dashing from tent to tent would raise suspicion faster than anything. So he trailed casually after Sv¨­l and made sure to keep a few obstructions between them. Part of the trick was acting like you belonged and happened to be going in the same way. It helped that the camp was busier than usual at this hour. Evidently, they were not the only ones who were restless. What am I doing? He questioned himself as he sheltered behind a tent, drawing a curious look from the two men within. I can¡¯t imagine that Sv¨­l would be happy if he caught me doing this. The last thing I need to do before the battle is to piss off a teammate. [Stealth] has advanced to Level 3. Well, that¡¯s enough of an excuse for me. That skill wouldn¡¯t rise at all in training. Dante was not sure if he was good at this, Sv¨­l was distracted, or if this was some elaborate setup, but he seemed to remain undetected. All too soon, Sv¨­l stopped at a tent and rapped against its supporting pole. Dante took a few steps back, until he was out of sight, and hid against a tent at the end of the row. He could hear the murmur of voices. Sv¨­l¡¯s and two others. Both women, he thought. They were whispering so low that Dante could not make out the words. However, he did think both the women sounded familiar. Dante risked a look and saw S¨±nva exiting the tent. At least, he thought it was her. He had never seen her outside of that starry sky armor, but the color of her hair was right. Another head peaked out and he was sure that one was Ren¡¯s. What would Sv¨­l wake our captain for in the middle of the night? A few more words were exchanged and then S¨±nva stalked away from the group towards him. It was hard to tell at this distance, but Dante thought that she looked grumpy. A few more words were exchanged between Sv¨­l and Ren. Then, under his disbelieving eyes, Sv¨­l climbed into the tent with Ren. The cover was tied close. No, it couldn¡¯t be. Could it? Dante was forced to duck back into cover as S¨±nva approached. She swept past him and didn¡¯t even glance in his direction. If he wasn¡¯t mistaken, she was heading towards the edge of the camp. Once he was sure that she was gone, he exited his cover and walked towards the tent. As he got closer, he kept his ears pricked. It was faint, but he heard the sound of heavy breathing and the soft, wet sounds of kissing. I guess everyone deals with impending death differently. Suddenly feeling like a creep, Dante reversed course. He should have trusted his instincts on that one. This misadventure had not been satisfying at all. Rather than discovering any helpful information, he had intruded on something rather private. He had heard that soldiers tended to be more promiscuous, it was one reason he had been surprised that the army was intersex, but it was another thing entirely to see it. It left him feeling ¡­ frustrated? Pent up? Whatever the case was, he was certain more than ever that sleep would evade him. Dante paused on the main road. Far in the distance, he caught sight of S¨±nva sitting on a stump at the very edge of the camp. She was gazing into the distance and was taking pulls from ¡­ was that a pipe? He hadn¡¯t known that smoking existed in this world. He gazed towards the heart of the camp, where his empty tent and a night of restless sleep lay. Yeah, screw that. Let¡¯s get to know the women who saved my life a bit more. 30 - The Fruits of His Labor, Part 3 Dante took a seat on the stump a few feet away from S¨±nva. Whatever tree had once been here, it had been large. Though, he had no idea what was normal here. He had seen a couple of local trees on his way to the camp and they had been scraggly, half-dead things. Hopefully, he would know one day. Aside from a glance, S¨±nva did not react to his intrusion. Instead, she returned to her inspection of the horizon. The breeze shifted, blowing the smoke from her pipe towards him. It had a sweet scent with an aftertaste that was fresh and almost minty. He had a brief flash of nostalgia. The smell reminded him of some of the e-cigs that had been popular in his high school before he had dropped out. When she breathed out, the smoke was an azure blue. It spiraled in little eddies beyond as if driven by a turbulent current despite the tepid air. It was quite entrancing. This was a side of S¨±nva that he hadn¡¯t seen, though he hadn¡¯t known her long. Maybe three weeks? As long as he had been here. Dante had this picture of her, tall, imposing, and imperious in armor that looked like it had been forged from the night sky itself. Hair the color of ruby streaming from her head that matched the carnage of the battlefield. A mythical figure of sorts. But here, clad in a loose-fitting linen shirt and leather pants, she looked like a normal woman. One who was tired, judging by the black circles under her eyes. Dante followed her gaze to the camp surroundings and wondered what she was thinking about. During this rest period, he had spent the vast majority of his time in the camp proper. It was large enough to lose yourself in and he needed his maps to navigate comfortably. Yesterday was the first day that he had traveled far enough to reach the camp edge. He had seen the same sight then as he did now. Endless fields of grass so white they appeared carved from bleached bone. As far as the eye could reach. The only things that broke up the monotony were craters and fortifications, which looked like scars upon a corpse. Last time, he had touched the grass and it had crumbled to dust in his hands. War appeared to be as destructive here as his world. If not more so. He had not stayed long last time. It was disturbing. Dante hoped that the lands beyond this were not all like this. If it were ¡­ he might have preferred death to living here. ¡°What do you see?¡± S¨±nva¡¯s voice made him jump. Dante returned his gaze to her and found her staring intently at him. Her hair and eyes were a splash of color on an otherwise barren canvas. Dante held her gaze as he considered the question. ¡°Failure.¡± War always is at the end of the day, he thought to himself. S¨±nva nodded and silence descended again. She took another pull from her pipe, made a faint noise of dissatisfaction, opened a pouch, and retrieved some dried plant matter. She tamped it into the pipe and tried again. This attempt brought about the largest cloud yet. Seeming satisfied, S¨±nva offered it to him with a raised eyebrow. Dante hesitated, then reached for it. Ah, what the hell, I gave up smoking a while ago but I could die tomorrow. She wouldn¡¯t offer it to me if it would hurt me. Right? Dante took it from her and took an experimental drag of his own. It went down smoothly, tasting rather woody and rather like berries. He let it linger in his lungs and found that it made them feel chilled, like menthol in cigarettes. Letting it out, he was surprised to see that the smoke came out an iridescent white. Neither did it roil, instead glimmering in a cloud of motes of lights. He took a glance at S¨±nva and saw a raised eyebrow. She did not comment on it, instead returning her gaze to the horizon. ¡°It was not always this way. Was full of people and life. Oh, the N¨¡ltios! Good times.¡± She looked rather sad, having said that, and he wondered if maybe she had once lived here. Looking back to the desolate fields he had a hard time imagining a life out here. He could not even hear the chirp of birds nor the small sounds of insects. ¡°What happened?¡± He regretted the question as soon as he asked it, as a look of profound sadness, then fury passed over S¨±nva¡¯s face. Dante took another pull from the pipe to hide his discomfort. It was affecting him, he was now certain. His limbs had grown heavy and his thoughts had quieted. It was somewhat reminiscent of weed but without none of the mental fog. At least, he thought so. He would see if that held up tomorrow. ¡°The Ahsmati. Vloan Betrayers. Couldn¡¯t be happy with their duty. Turned on their L?¨±s.¡± ¡°L?¨±s?¡± ¡°Hmmm. Father or mother to son. Not quite, but close enough.¡± Dante froze and Sunva plucked the pipe from his fingers. Creator? Does this mean that they created the Ahsmai? So, this is a creation versus creator situation? And they had some sort of ¡®duty¡¯. Oh shit, this is sounding more and more sketchy by the second. Dante eyed S¨±nva carefully, looking for any sign of remorse, but her face was a mask to him. Running his mind through the interactions between him and all of his companions, none of them had ever voiced regret for the war. No, he mostly had seen a lot of anger. Am I on the wrong side? Dante shook his head vigorously at the thought. He took a deep breath and tried to put his thoughts in order. ¡°I can¡¯t make conclusions yet. I don¡¯t have the entire story. I mean, look at what they did! This goes beyond salting the land. But still, I need to figure this out. I refuse to fight in this if so.¡± With a start, he realized that S¨±nva was peering at him carefully. Her piercing eyes had taken on an altogether suspicious cast. Dante schooled his facial expression while his thoughts whirled. Shit. Shit. Shit! She noticed something. I am guessing that being sympathetic with the enemy is considered bad. Quick, I need to think of a topic to distract her. It can''t look like an obvious evasion. But what could that be? Hmm ¡­ Maybe ¡­ yeah that could work. Dante broke eye contact and looked out over the desolation in what he hoped was a wistful manner. He sighed dramatically and said: ¡°Home is very different.¡± Come on, take the bait. A beat of silence passed. Dante fought to keep his gaze forward and maintain the act of disinterest. He had written it off as a failure when she spoke. ¡°What is your home?¡± Yes! Topic successfully changed! ¡°It is called America. It is ¡­ very far from here. I am not sure how far. It is quiet, still. No war, no blood, no fear. Not like this.¡± He gestured at the razed fields all around. ¡°Green.¡± By the end of it, he was not stilted. A genuine smile had found itself on his face. He was struck then by how much he missed it. Even living in poverty there was kingly compared to here. His time on the streets was excluded. At the very least, he did not go hungry here. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°Peaceful?¡± ¡°Is that the word for it? Yeah, peaceful. That is, we did have wars. But they were far off things.¡± ¡°What is it like?¡± Dante returned his gaze to her, confused. The suspicion in her eyes had died away and she leaned forward, eyes bright. It was like he was telling a fairy tale. ¡°What is what like?¡± ¡°Peace.¡± That floored him. He thought that there might be a mistranslation, but the words they used were simple and unambiguous. Still, he had to make sure. ¡°You want to know what peace is like?¡± A single nod. She almost seemed embarrassed. Whaa ¡­ I can¡¯t even ¡­ how do I respond to this? Am I understand that this war has been going on so long that she does not even know the idea of peace? She''s like, in her mid to late twenties? Perhaps even her parents didn¡¯t experience peace if she is this ignorant. What is going on in this world? Whatever the case, it seemed like he had misjudged the scale of this war. It was no surprise that they had developed the sophisticated group magic, trenches, and chemical warfare if they had been fighting for this long. It did not paint a good picture of the state of the rest of the country. He needed to reevaluate his escape plans. That could wait until later, S¨±nva was beginning to look uncomfortable. Still, how did he answer this? He had never not lived in peace until he came here. ¡°It is ¡­ the ability to do what you want. To sleep soundly. To not fear the future.¡± Dante began recounting what life was like in America, though adapted so that she could understand. He stuck to memories from his childhood and the last few years of his life. S¨±nva did not pry into the intervening years and he had no reason to tarnish his image in her eyes. To his amazement, she did not seem surprised by his description of modern life. Skyscrapers, cars, and bridges did not make her blink an eye. Which bode well for his adventurers once he escaped this place. There was one concept that she refused to accept. ¡°So, these ¡®supermarkets¡¯ have goods from many merchants and they just lie there? Unguarded?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Dante replied, exasperated. They had been over this several times. ¡°Why are they not stolen?¡± ¡°They are unguarded, not unwatched. America knows every citizen and is good at finding them.¡± ¡°And they all have a set price? Why do the merchants not haggle?¡± ¡°It¡¯s against the law.¡± ¡°Hmmm,¡± S¨±nva sat back and rubbed her chin with one hand. ¡°Seems tyrannical.¡± Dante burst out laughing and could not stop. Ah, the hypocrisy! It was not the first misunderstanding of the night and ended much the same as the others. With an elbow to the ribs and an ¡®ouch¡¯. Eventually, the questions died down and he had a chance to ask a question that had been bothering him for a while. ¡°When I used the pipe, why was the color and motion different?¡± ¡°Do they not have Lap¨±n in America?¡± After he shook his head, she continued: ¡°Lap¨±n uses your mana to cause peace. It acts differently based on the Ent of mana.¡± She brought up her palm and on it, materialized water. From thin air and without any words spoken. He needed to figure that out. ¡°I have water ent, so the smoke is blue and flows. Fire would glow and snap while earth ¡­ earth is boring. Just smoke.¡± She let the water spill to the ground. ¡°Never before have I seen that white glimmer. If you don¡¯t mind, what is your ent?¡± ¡°I do not know.¡± S¨±nva looked at him like he had grown a second head. ¡°That¡¯s not possible. All enrozen nations have it. Nearly all luros lands do too. From what you have told me, America should.¡± Dante shifted uncomfortably, realizing that he may have broached a topic he shouldn¡¯t have. One thing that quickly became clear during their conversation was that S¨±nva was deeply patriotic. Which he had expected to a certain extent, given her officer status. So he had been careful in showing ignorance. He didn¡¯t want to stand out and bring more attention to himself. In the past, he had found that playing up the translation problems worked wonders in deflecting questions. Now that he had developed basic proficiency, it didn¡¯t fly anymore. Since he was already in this mess, he might as well be mostly truthful. He had always been awful at lying. ¡°And yet the fact remains that I don¡¯t.¡± S¨±nva studied him and her suspicion seemed to morph into confusion. She shook her head. ¡°Strange land you come from. One that¡¯s advanced enough to have flying devices and ¡®supermarkets¡¯, but does not have something as simple as an Ent classification ritual. After tomorrow''s battle, we will find it.¡± Dante nodded, grateful to move away from that dangerous topic. ¡°How well are you prepared for tomorrow?¡± He hesitated, unsure of how truthful he should be. That she asked the question meant that she wasn¡¯t aware of his current situation, which surprised him. She was the one who asked Sv¨­l to keep an eye on him. It¡¯s not like it can get much worse. What is she going to do? Take away my tiny knife? In response, Dante pulled out the carving knife and placed it on the stump along with his nine crossbow bolts. ¡°These are my weapons.¡± S¨±nva looked from his straight face, to the weapons and back again. ¡°Ah.¡± She considered that for a time, let out a frustrated sigh, and then grabbed a pouch from her belt. From it, she counted out five silver coins, took a look at his drab apparel, and then counted out five more. About three times the amount he had been paid when he arrived here. Then, she offered it to him. Dante stared at the veritable hoard and was tempted to reject it out of hand. It clearly pained S¨±nva to part with it, her expression was tight and she looked conflicted. But, he couldn¡¯t afford to. Survival was everything, especially now that the very real possibility that the Empire was doing evil had been raised. So, he dampened down his pride and accepted the money. ¡°Thank you. One day I will return this to you.¡± ¡°See that you do. Make sure you visit the merchants. Buy an alvos. Expensive, but worth it¡± S¨±nva reached a hand back into her bag and brought out a corked philter. He recognized it as the drink that she had given him in their first meeting. The one that had brought him back from the brink of death. Yeah, he would definitely be doing that. ¡°So, what exactly are we doing tomorrow?¡± She made a noise of frustration and threw her head back, kicking her legs. ¡°Wish I knew. They never tell us, if they can help it. Usually, we serve as reinforcements or garrisons. Worse case, we join the initial fighting.¡± ¡°Ah. That''s too bad.¡± A long silence passed then whereupon they simply enjoyed each other''s company. Dante accepted the pipe a few more times. Every time he exhaled he would inspect the faintly glowing white cloud, as if he could reveal the secrets of his mana through simple inspection. I might have to look into acquiring some of this myself. It¡¯s so relaxing and I think I can go to sleep now. Probably should. I just hope it¡¯s not addictive. Dante climbed to his feet and nearly stumbled as a wave of vertigo assailed him. He caught his balance but found that his sense of balance was off. A lot of it was tiredness, but it was a little too severe to be only that. A worthy cost for the peace he felt. He turned to S¨±nva, who was looking at him curiously, and inclined his head. ¡°I should probably turn in for the night. Need to get some sleep.¡± S¨±nva seemed saddened by this and nodded. Then a thought seemed to strike her and she grinned mischievously. ¡°Wish I could do the same, but I am afraid that my tent is occupied for the night.¡± She winked coyly at him and leaned forward. Her loose shirt drooped and Dante adverted his eyes from the inadvertent view that it caused. She had been hitting the pipe a lot and he did not want to take advantage ¡°Shame I don¡¯t have anywhere else to bed down.¡± Damned Sv¨­l. Why did he do this to his boss? Especially one as caring as her. What a dick. ¡°I hope that Sv¨­l comes to his senses. I got to go, morning is approaching. Have a good night.¡± Dante inclined his head towards her, then turned and hurried in the direction of his tent. He did not think to look back at the women he had left alone. And so he missed the expression of surprise and hurt that flitted across her face. 31 - In A Class Of His Own, Part 1 Dante hit the ground running that morning. He woke when the first rays of the sun breached the horizon to find Sv¨­l half-draped over him. The man stunk of sour alcohol and sweat. Dante was not careful as he pushed him aside, grunting as the man proved heavier than expected. There was a hollow thud as Sv¨­l¡¯s head struck the ground, and Dante froze as he waited for an outburst. Incredibly, Sv¨­l just grumbled and turned over to use a beefy arm as a pillow. Dante did not want to try his luck any further, so he gathered his things and left. The feel of the camp was different. The tension had ratched up from the previous night to a dangerous simmer. All around soldiers were taking grindstone to blades or tying on armor. The roads were so packed that he had trouble seeing his carefully noted landmarks or even pulling out his map at all. It took longer than he liked to find the market. He was not the only one who waited until the last minute to buy equipment. The place was the most packed he had seen yet. Dante wasted no time and waded into the crowd. It was easy enough to find a crossbow, though it was dissimilar to the one he had been practicing with. It was much heavier for one and had greater draw strength. Given the calibre of enemies he was shortly going to face, he needed all the firepower he could get. Though, he was likely to miss his first few shots. Dante dearly wished he could practice with it. He was about to leave when the shopkeep, an elderly woman with leathery skin that looked as if it had seen a lifetime of sun named Risma, tugged at his sleeve. When he turned to look at her, she presented him with a wooden box. Risma opened it to reveal three crossbow bolts. It was obvious they were not ordinary, given that they were made of a silvery blue metal and had runes carved along the shaft. Each had a colored band near the fletching. One red, one green, and one blue. ¡°I apologize if I am wrong sir, but you don¡¯t have the look of an experienced marksman.¡± Dante grimaced and scratched the back of his neck. The crossbow''s latching mechanism had been different, and he had to ask how it worked. Apparently, that was enough to give him away. ¡°No, you are quite right. I presume that these,¡± he gestured to the bolts, ¡°Are a solution to that.¡± ¡°I thought so. No soldier worth their salt would venture into the battlefield with unenchanted bolts. While nothing is a substitute for experience and abilities, these are the next best thing. Enchanted and manufactured by Teserno from the capitol. With them, you will at least be able to kill a low rank or injure a medium one.¡± ¡°This,¡± she tapped the red one, ¡°will always hit its target, as long as you are aiming in the correct direction.¡± Her finger moved over the green. ¡°This will penetrate anything short of a defensive specialist.¡± The finger continued its journey to its conclusion. ¡°This last one, don¡¯t get too close to it. I hope you are not afraid of fire.¡± Risma was right. He needed trump cards. When he had fought his first Ahsmati, his crossbow shot hadn¡¯t injured as much as surprised. ¡°How much for them?¡± He asked, dreading the answer. ¡°Hmm, to save the life of one as young as you? Let¡¯s say three silver and ten bronze.¡± That was ¡­ more expensive than he wanted but not as much as he had dreaded. Along with the crossbow, that would eat up about a third of his funds. And he had not purchased the potion yet. ¡°You are generous, but I can¡¯t afford that. What about two silver?¡± Dante had learned his lesson thoroughly about giving a first counteroffer that was a reasonable price. It seemed like it was expected to start low and find the mid-point when bartering. Some people seemed to straight out enjoy it. He can¡¯t say that he liked this song and dance, but he was getting used to it. ¡°I may feel sorrow for you, but I have a business to run. If I sold all my wares at such prices, I would be penniless and on the street. At my age, that¡¯s a death sentence. How about three silver and three bronze?¡± And on it went. Dante didn¡¯t want to waste too much time, so he was forced to hurry. He likely got a worse deal because of it, but he didn¡¯t want to be caught out when it was time to assemble. He managed to get ahold of the bolts and crossbow for a bit under a third of his combined funds. ¡°Pleasure doing business with you! If you need a restock or other supplies, please find me again!¡± ¡°If I live, I will Risma. Take care.¡± With that, Dante hurried off. The market was beginning to clear and he did not have a good feeling about that. He needed to find this potion fast. Now, what would a potion shop look like? After a while of bumbling around, in which he found a wine shop, a dye, and even a poisons shop ¡ª he was glad he did not mistake that last one for a healing potion ¡ª he managed to find what he was looking for. He swallowed as he gazed at the most impressive shop yet. It was an actual building for one, something even the army didn¡¯t build. Whilst simple in appearance, its craftsmanship was impeccable. He wondered idly how it was transported there. Probably magic of some sort. Entering it, he found the interior equally noteworthy. There was not a speck of dust to be found. He felt very out of place with his battle-worn clothes. Standing behind the counter, was a man who was dressed impeccably. It reminded him of the princess and her entourage. ¡°Welcome! I am Nauer Uain. How may the Navenaur Srunvah help you?¡± ¡°What¡¯s a srunvah?¡± The change in the man''s demeanor was immediate. His lip curled and he titled his head to an almost comical degree to look down his nose at him. Dante had encountered a few who looked down on him and his obvious foreign ways, but nothing like this. ¡°A Srunvah, outlander, is a brotherhood of merchants. For a small nominal fee, we offer protection and numerous other benefits.¡± Nauer made ¡®outlanderr¡¯ sound like a slur. Dante would have left right then if something about that description hadn¡¯t jogged his memory. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Is he talking about a guild? I remember hearing something about that from fantasy novels. If I remember this correctly, they can be quite nasty. They do things like collude to raise prices or punish merchants who go against the grain. I need to step carefully here. Doing his best to hide his displeasure, Dante smiled and said: ¡°Ah, I see. My people have a different word for it. Forgive me, I am new to these lands. Thanks for enlightening me.¡± ¡°See that you do not forget it. Now, can I help you, or are you here to see what your betters can afford?¡± Patience. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of wasting your time. I am here to buy a healing potion. I have the coin for it.¡± Having said so, he took his full coin purse and plopped it on the counter. It made a satisfying jangle. The change in Nauer¡¯s bearing was immediate. The man straightened, his expression grew less disgusted, and he adjusted his collar. ¡°Apologies, you don¡¯t know what kind of riffraff finds its way in here. Now, what exactly did you say you wanted?¡± ¡°Just a basic healing potion, please.¡± ¡°Of course, if you would give me a moment.¡± Nauer began rummaging around underneath the counter and brought a philter that was identical to S¨±nva¡¯s. It was constructed out of metal rather than the glass that he had seen in games. A welcome change in his opinion, given how fragile glass was. ¡°You are in luck, this is among the last of our stock. They are quite popular at the moment, for obvious reasons. It can be yours for one Sanen.¡± One what? Given the context I am guessing that this is the level of currency above silver. I hope. I have no idea what the upper limit is. I guess all I can do is ¡­ He untied the drawstrings of the coin purse and spilled its contents over the desk. ¡°This is all I have. Take it or leave it.¡± Nauer glanced at the coins and some of his earlier disdain crept back. ¡°This is only five silver and seventeen bronze. A mere fraction of the price. That you have made such an offer is an insult to our establishment. You will need to make a better offer.¡± He could see that at a glance? A skill perhaps. Shit, I probably should have come here first. I knew these things were expensive, and yet I had to stop for the crossbow. Sure it was nice, but these potions can be the difference between life or death. I guess all I can do is stand my ground and cut my losses. ¡°I don¡¯t know what else to say. That is my best and only offer.¡± Before either of them could say anything else, a tolling sound echoed through the camp. It rang two more times before falling silent. Dante had never heard that sound before, but it seemed important. Wary, he shifted until he could peek out of the window of the shop. Outside, soldiers all streamed in one direction. It was time. Taking a heavy sigh, Dante began to gather the coins back in the pouch. It was time to accept that this deal wasn¡¯t happening. At least he wouldn¡¯t be as in debt to S¨±nva. ¡°Are you really leaving? In the middle of our deal? How disrespectful.¡± Dante just shrugged and walked towards the door. He made it about ten steps before Nauer called after him. ¡°Alright! I¡¯ll take your money! But, next time you shop here, we will add the difference to your next purchase.¡± Dante considered that for a second. Though this would effectively cut him off from ever buying a potion again himself. It would be difficult enough getting the money for the base potion without these additional fees. However, couldn¡¯t he have someone else buy it for him? It almost felt like the merchant was just trying to save face. Whatever. As long as he had the potion. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll accept that offer.¡± He placed the purse into Nauer¡¯s waiting hand and accepted his prize. Frustratingly, the man wanted him to sign some paperwork, which Dante demanded Nauer read to him. It took longer then he liked and he had the man reread sections to see if he was making things up. By the time they had concluded that business, the crowd outside had thinned considerably. He had no time to worry about that however and hurried out the door. It seems like walking away is a good strategy in negotiation. As he joined his fellow soldiers, it hit him that this was happening. His gut dropped and he struggled to keep his breaths under control. If he went with them, there was a fair chance he was marching towards death. Or worse. He did not want to go. Something inside him screamed to flee. To take a chance to avoid a violent end that awaited him on the battlefield. It didn¡¯t matter to thing clawing inside of chest that he had no plan and would stand out like a sore thumb. That the penalty for desertion would also be death. Fear did not care about things like that. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn¡¯t. Trapped. However, fleeing would mean abandoning his only connections in the world. He had grown close to S¨±nva and Pauwna. Especially Pauwna, he thought they might even be friends. While he had only gotten to know those two as well. The others had done him small kindness as well. He owed debts to them all. They were decent enough people. Leaving them also twisted his gut. It might be some sick form of Stockholm syndrome, but it didn¡¯t weaken the strength of those feelings. So, he chose the path of inaction and let himself get swept up in the flow. Taking a moment to orientate himself, he realized that they were moving in the direction opposite the front. A direction that he had not had a chance to map yet. Which brought to mind something he had been wondering about. How were they going to get there? He had been picturing a march but that was looking less and less likely. Perhaps they had some sort of alternative travel method? Maybe some form of vehicle. The answer was not immediately obvious when they left the camp proper. It was difficult to see much of anything, as the brittle bone white grass had been stamped down, causing a fine white dust to pervade the air. He could see that groups were splitting to join loose congregations. Officers stood by the stream of people, shouting directions. Which were all words he did not know and meant nothing to him. Does my unit have a name? If so, no one saw fit to tell me. Guess I am going to have to take an educated guess. Much like on the practice field, the groupings could be split into two broad categories. The ones who had matching equipment and the ones that were just all over the place. That latter had some clear distinctions as well. Some units seemed biased towards magic, armor, or what have you. So, at least he had eliminated half his options. In the end, it was Pauwna who found him. He had bumbled through the crowd for an embarrassingly long time, drawing many curious looks, when she had materialized out of the thicket and dragged him away. He was mortified to realize that he had walked past them a few times. Perhaps a few more points into perception wouldn¡¯t hurt. Face burning, he settled amongst them. He mumbled a quick greeting to S¨±nva, but was studiously ignored. That was strange, she had been so friendly last night. Was she being professional or had he done something wrong? Any further consideration would have to wait as the bell rang again, this time twice. It had to be magical. No mundane bell would ring so clearly and reach so many ears. Everyone surged into motion and he followed, a step behind. Dante realized belatedly that all the units had been arranged into rough lines and they were marching, once again, in the wrong direction. S¨±nva jogged in front of their particular unit, then turned to face them while jogging backward in a casual show of coordination. ¡°Heads up everyone, we have gotten our orders. We are to retake the lost trenches, then dig in. It¡¯s going to be bloody, so focus hard right out of the gate. We do this by the book.¡± Her eyes snapped to Dante and she pointed at him. ¡°You, stay in the middle and don¡¯t do anything you are not ordered to do. Is that clear?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the sound came out high and he reddened, ¡°... ahem, yes S¨±nva!¡± He heard a snicker from behind him. He was fairly sure it was Pauwna and Dante gave her a look, betrayed. S¨±nva continued without blinking an eye. ¡°Take heart, for today we reclaim our homeland from the despoilers who occupy it. Rejoice, for only in the forge of battle are true heroes made. Be careful and guard your comrades. Today, we all grow stronger.¡± In unison, she and everyone else clapped their fists over their chests. ¡°For the Glory of the Empire!¡± Once again, he was a step behind the others. Then, she turned around and retook her spot at the head of the group. The group picked up their pace and there was no time for talking. Dante soon spotted something ahead of them. A circular patch where the dust changed from white to black. Through it was an isolated patch of rain. Around the edge of the patch light ¡­ bent, reflecting and distorting like a warped mirror. It was not the only patch, there were others in front of each column. All appeared to lead to slightly different places. Teleportation. He was going to fight immediately. 32 - In A Class of His Own, Part 2 Dante didn¡¯t know what to do. His feet brought him ever closer to the portal and he was numb. Then he was there. No one in front of him. Nothing between him and the portal. He caught sight of his face on its reflective surface. His skin had grown as pale as the white of his eyes, and his pupils had dilated so much that they bordered on his sclera. Dante continued forward, his foot on an inexorable collision course with the aberration of space-time before it. He made contact. It was like his foot had been tied to a dropped anchor. He was yanked through with an unstoppable force. His view of the world narrowed to a pinprick and the pulling never ceased, accelerating him at speeds that should have killed him. Then, he was out. Dante stumbled forward and something caught him. Pauwna. She supported him and kept them walking forward so the ranks behind him wouldn¡¯t trample him. Remnants of last night''s dinner tried to force their way up, but he suppressed them. ¡°You did good. Most can¡¯t move after their first roanoff. Have you done it before?¡± ¡°... Something similar. Thanks for the help. I am good now.¡± He smiled and stopped using her as a crutch. She returned the smile and then hastened to the front of the formation. Now that he had found his step, he took the opportunity to get his bearings. Not that there was much to see. A heavy dust lay over everything. Including his companions, much to their annoyance. Not on him, however. [Overloaded Warding Flesh] kept a small pocket clear around his form. He tripped and looked down to see rubble. Stones littered the ground, raw, jagged, and varying in size from house to pebble. An eerie quiet lay over everything. Even the slap of their boots against the ground was faint. Just where are we? The mist stirred and he spun in that direction, crossbow half raised and finger on the trigger. It was another squad, half obscured by the dust. They were moving at tremendous speed and he only caught sight of them for a second. He was able to see their leader fix him with a disapproving look. He lowered the crossbow sheepishly. They are so much faster than us. Wait, are we¡­ Dante gazed at his companions and saw that they looked more stone-faced than normal. He caught the tail end of a sullen look from Ren. They were moving at a speed that was wholly at odds with how fast they scanned their surroundings. Almost as if they were held back by something. By me. They can¡¯t move fast enough because I am here. They are at risk because of me. No wonder Ren resents me. I would too. Dante picked up his speed to a jog and others kept up effortlessly. Their expressions did not change. Why would they when they were still moving within mortal speeds. I wish it wasn''t like this. It¡¯s not like I chose to be here. It¡¯s not my fault that I am useless. The ground was no longer level, it was getting steeper fast. Soon, they were climbing. If it weren¡¯t for the cracked nature of the stone around him, it would have been impossible. It just was very hard now. Grips gave away at unexpected times and sharp edges meant that he had to choose where to place his hands carefully. Once, he had just put his full weight on a large rock when it shifted and plunged into the void beneath them. Dante would have fallen then had Pauwna not grabbed his collar until he found another grip. From that point on, he didn''t trust any handhold alone. This was when he saw the first body. He was reaching for a small ledge when his fingers closed on something faintly warm, slick, and bumpy. Pulling himself up, Dante nearly lost his grip when he saw that his handhold was a voilet, scaly arm. The owner of which was buried deep in the rubble. He was assaulted by a vision of it springing to life and clawing for him. He reached for the next grip with haste and did his best to put it out of his mind. Soon, he pulled himself over the top with a huff. The terrain here was different from down ¡­ wherever that was. He was resting on dirt for one, which was a plus. Though it was a singed black color and was pitted with small craters. Barely within sight was a carbonized tree. It reminded him of when he had first arrived in this world. In the no-man''s land. That¡¯s precisely where we are, aren¡¯t we? Shit. Can¡¯t say I am happy to be back here. Although I don¡¯t remember seeing anything as deep as what we came out of. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the squad had been waiting for him. Ren was even tapping her foot impatiently. The instant he had climbed up, S¨±nva led them into the gloom. They hugged the depression¡¯s edge and Dante soon realized that the hole must be circular. It must have been titanic, The curvature was slight and, despite the dust having cleared substantially, the other side was not visible. They soon came across a familiar sight. A trench. It was the third and last line, if his memory wasn¡¯t failing him. He had been here only once before. It was hard to forget the subterranean warren of rooms and tunnels. The hole bisected it, revealing the true extent of the structure. It was many levels deep, only terminating a few hundred feet down. It was essentially a small city. This close to the hole, most of it had collapsed. He could see relatively whole rooms in the distance. The Ahsmati corpses were especially thick here. Arms and legs stuck from the rubble, often bent at unnatural angles. The ones that weren¡¯t buried were almost worse to look at, resembling broken bags of flesh more than anything. Burns were omnipresent in each of the bodies. Curiously, they always faced the direction of the pit. The smell of blood and worse hung thick in the air. They picked their way through the rubble, checking every room that hadn''t collapsed. It was treacherous and slow going, the ground shifted easily at the slightest touch. For once, Dante¡¯s pace wasn¡¯t the thing holding them back as they methodically checked every room for life. As they ventured farther from the pit, visibility further improved and they began finding uncollapsed rooms. The tide of bodies did not cease however; they merely bore different wounds. These ones looked whole, but blood streamed from their eyes, ears, and from the corners of their mouths. With this, Dante finally pieced together what happened. The large hole, the sharp edges of the rubble, the considerable warmth of the bodies, and the scorch wounds. This was an explosion. A catastrophic one. I can¡¯t even begin to imagine the energy it would take to create a crate that deep. And we climbed from the bottom of it. Did the teleportation cause this? Or was there a trap? A bombardment? I hate not knowing. He was jogged from his thoughts by a clatter and a small dog-like creature with limp back legs staggered out of one of the partially filled rooms. Before Dante had even registered the Ahsmati as an enemy, it had already been struck by a thin beam of light that swept it from shoulder to hip. It froze for a second, and then the two halves fell to the ground, organs spilling out. Dante looked to his left to see Ren with a finger still extended. No wonder that merchant said I should upgrade my firepower. I didn¡¯t even get a notification for that. And why should I? It¡¯s not like I did anything to help. I am so useless here. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Pauwna gestured and a piddling amount of blood separated from the body and flew over to hover above her palm. A cursory check of the room that the Ahsmati came revealed no more life, so they continued. Dante inspected the body as they passed by. While his initial impression had been that of a large dog, it was more cat-like in appearance. It had a graceful, sinewy body with a long tail topped by a vicious blade. It was hard to tell past the layer of grime, but it had tiny, mud brown scales that were similar to a snake''s. It was nothing like the previous Ahsmati he had seen, save for all of them being lizard-like. What is up with that anyway? I have personally fought three types and have seen more. Are they all different species? I can¡¯t imagine that there can be that many sentient lizard-like species in one world. However, S¨±nva said that they were created, so perhaps this was by design? He would have asked, but now wasn¡¯t the time for distractions. They continued on, more alert than before. Caution that only raised when they stopped discovering bodies. They were too far away from the blast for the shockwave to kill, he reckoned. ¡°Stop. Pauwna, do you hear that?¡± The group halted, tightening together and raising their weapons. Pauwna swiveled on the spot, then cupped her ears and closed her eyes. A few uncomfortable moments passed in which everyone did their best to be quiet. Now that it had been pointed out, Dante realized that he could also hear distant cries, explosions, and other strange sounds he associated with magic. Whip-like cracks, melodious shrieks, and unearthly howling. The usual ambience of the trenches. ¡°Hmm, I hear ...¡± Pauwna still had her eyes closed and her unusually long ears periodically twitched, ¡°an ongoing battle about four hundred spans ahead, numbering about a dozen combatants. I am less certain about this, but the Ahsmati appear to be winning.¡± ¡°Acknowledged.¡± S¨±nva paused for a moment, then seemed to come to some sort of decision. ¡°Prepare for battle, with haste!¡± With that, the unit blurred into motion. In a manner of seconds, they disappeared around a bend while Dante could only watch, flabbergasted. Hurt followed quickly behind, but he suppressed it with a flash of irritation at himself. Of course they left me behind. They need to go help their comrades and I can¡¯t help them with that. Only slow them down. Dante jogged after them. Afterall, what else could he do? Stay alone on a battlefield where just about everything was stronger then him? He just hoped that there were no branching pathways. That would complicate things. Three hundred paces couldn¡¯t be that far. Could it? He moved after them as fast as he was able. He could hear it now. The clashing of steel on steel and the occasional shouted spell. He was just about to turn the corner when a scaly snout emerged from behind it. It was an Ahsmati, of the type he and Pauwna fought together. Dante backpedaled. The crossbow came up and then he hesitated. This was his first time alone with one of the creatures. He had to see if he could reason with it. ¡°Stop or I will shoot!¡± he shouted, keeping the weapon trained on it. He was not confident in its ability to stop the Ahsmati, the previous one he had fought certainly hadn¡¯t. Dante was hoping that this one didn¡¯t know that. To his great relief, it did stop. It cocked its head so that one bloodshot eye was trained on him. A head that was nearly the size of his torso. He realized that it was injured. Three vicious lacerations ran from the top of its shoulder and wrapped around to its back, so he wasn¡¯t able to gauge the severity of the injuries. A small thread of blood flowed from each and floated around the corner to parts unseen. Likely Pauwna¡¯s work. He could still hear signs of battle from that direction. ¡°Why stop to talk, man-thing? A ploy to wait for my blood to run dry?¡± Dante flinched, nearly pulling the trigger as it spoke. He was glad that it could speak, but the way it spoke set him on edge. The speech was decidedly odd, full of odd pauses, sybilent hisses, and mispronunciations. It seemed like its hard lips and terrifying teeth made certain sounds difficult. Why had he stopped to talk? Honestly, he hadn¡¯t expected to get this far. It wasn''t as if he could take it prisoner. But he could let it go ¡­ where it would certainly hurt other soldiers. There was one thing it could help him with. ¡°Why are we fighting?¡± Dante immediately cringed. The question sounded so naive, so he hastened to add: ¡°I am a foreigner, this is not my war.¡± An extended, rhythmic hissing sound had him putting his guard back up. It caused his hairs to stand on end, but the Ahsmati made no hostile moves. He realized the creature was laughing. ¡°Why do we fight? Why not fight? Your kind takes. Foreigner or not. It takes and takes and takes until we are bled dry. Enough. We take now. We fight, tear, rip, until the price is paid.¡± With that, it lunged at him. It was fast, but he had faced faster. A slight tightening of his finger on the trigger along with a pulsing of [Overloaded Warding Flesh] and the heavy crossbow bucked. The bolt flew true, striking center mass. Metal shrieked, sparks scattered, and the bolt deflected. Shit. He reached for his bag and fumbled out the box of enchanted bolts. The box crashed to the ground, spilling its precious contents far and wide. The Ahsmati loomed above him, having easily two feet on him and likely was thrice his weight. It had its arms splayed to either side, ready to catch him if he dodged. If it got a hold of him, that was the end. Dante took the only way out, dropping the crossbow and diving between its legs. He didn¡¯t quite slide as far as he liked and was stuck underneath it. Dante didn¡¯t see any obvious ¡­ equipment, but he still delivered a viscous kick upward, right between its legs. It was as if he had kicked a stone statue. Pain flared up his shin and he cried out. The Ahamati, by comparison, looked entirely unaffected, though unhappy. One clawed foot came down. The world spun as he rolled out of the way, but he wasn¡¯t quite fast enough. It was going to hit. A mere inch away from his skin, the talons slowed slightly. It gave him enough time that he was just about able to complete his roll. There was a pulling sensation at his arm, then he was free. One of the bolts was right in front of him. The blue one. He grabbed it and scrambled forward. It was not fast enough. Something clamped around his chest. Metal squealed terribly as tooth scraped against steel. There was a moment of weightlessness as he was lifted off the ground. Gazing down, he found that the Ahsmati had bitten him from behind. Its jaws were clamped around his midsection and was currently caving in his breastplate. Dante grabbed for Sv¨­l¡¯s knife at his belt and stabbed at its face. The knife deflected. He stabbed again and again, aiming for the eye. The knife missed as his entire world was upturned. He was being shaken like a rat in the jaws of a dog. Breathing became. Metal groaned and gave way. Changing tack, he brought the knife to the breastplate straps. The first one gave away and he moved to the next. He had just touched the knife to leather when it gave away. Then he was flying through the air. Dante managed to hit the ground in a roll and skidded before coming to a stop against a wall. Ignoring the scream of his lungs and the sting of bruises all over, he climbed to his feet. Dante had been thrown quite far, but the Ahsmati had turned and was charging straight at him. It was lower to the ground now to cut off any further dodging attempts. All he had was the enchanted crossbow bolt in one hand and the tiny boot knife in the other. It was time to take a chance. He dropped the knife and cupped the crossbow bolt with both hands. It strained against his fingers, ready to be released. Then, he aimed it at the creature and used [Aura Manipulation] to increase the reach of [Overloaded Warding Flesh]. He wished that his charge was off cooldown. ¡°Please work,¡± he whispered to whatever may be listening, then let go. The bolt lept from his hands, crossing the few feet between himself and the Ahsmati in a fraction of a second. Then, a flash of light and then liquid fire was everywhere. It engulfed the Ahsmati and droplets of it pinged off his repulsion field. It was more intense than regular fire, appearing more like thermite. It was a nightmare straight from his worst dreams. It took a supreme effort of will not to flee at that very second. But he had to make sure the Ahsmati was dead. Dante was now standing in an isolated island in a sea of flames. In that moment, he was incredibly thankful for [Overloaded Warding Flesh]. He promised never to complain about it again. The sound the Ahsmati made would mark the start of a new nightmare, he was certain. A shriek reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard came from the heart of the flames. It awakened some primal fear inside of him, reminding Dante of his own baptism of flames. He had personally experienced what the Ahsmati was suffering through now. A wave of sympathy swept through him. No creature deserved to die like this. Not even one who tried to kill him for simply being human. Dante walked over to where his crossbow had been dropped, the flames parting before him, and loaded a normal bolt into it. He lined up a shot with the Ahsmati''s eye, which had been permanently seared open. It didn¡¯t even seem to notice that he was there and continued to convulse on the floor. He pulled the trigger. Level 13 [Adolscent Ahsmati] has been slain Your participation: 43% Calculating Experience ¡­ Congratulations! You have advanced to Level 5 Classes are available [Crossbow] has advanced to Level 4 [Aura Manipulation] has advanced to Level 2 [Overloaded Warding Flesh] has advanced to Level 8 33 - In A Class of His Own, Part 3 Dante left that place, only stopping to grab his two remaining enchanted bolts. The smell of cooked flesh made him want to vomit. It reminded him too much of before. That he had exchanged words with the creature made it worse. He was no longer able to pretend that they were dumb, unthinking brutes. Was there any other way that it could have ended? I suppose I could have let it escape, it seemed to be fleeing before this confirmation. Though the Ahsmati seemed plenty interested in fighting when it met me. It seemed so angry. No, this could not have been avoided. It¡®s bad all around. I hate this. I am leaving after this battle, I don¡¯t care about the consequences. I should join up with those merchents. I bet they leave all the time. They have to get their goods from somewhere. A stinging pain distracted him and he looked at his right arm to see three gashes weeping crimson. They didn¡¯t seem especially deep but bled freely. That would need mending. He should start carrying a first aid kit. As it was, he knew of only one person who could help him. It was time to catch up with his team. They weren¡¯t too far away. A few turns and he found them at an intersection, standing in a field of corpses. The battle here looked to have been hard fought; the number of dead Ahsmati outweighed the living and Dante spotted a few human faces amongst the dead. Thankfully, none were from his team. Though there was one injured. Ren, the woman who was ¡­ involved with Sv¨­l. A bandage was being tied across half her face by the man himself. Once that relief died down, some of his earlier annoyance at being abandoned bled back. Because of that decision, he had fought that Ahsmati alone and danced razors edge from death. Dante understood why they did it, there would be more dead on the ground if they hadn¡¯t, but that selfish desire remained. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Dante leaped around to find Pauwna poking at his wounds. Since he had last seen her, she had fully formed her blood claws and her blood armor had climbed to her elbows. She dismissed the ability and the accumulated blood streamed to hover above Pauwna¡¯s head in a head-sized orb. ¡°Must you do that now?¡± ¡°Always.¡± She took a hold of his injured shoulder and gently led him over to a large piece of rubble to sit. ¡°It¡¯s for your own good. What if I were an Ahsmati? Now, what happened?¡± Dante grumbled a bit as she brought out a first aid kit of her own ¡ª Did everyone except him have one of those? She was right, as always. That last fight had highlighted a few things he needed to improve at. ¡°One of the Ahsmati ran away. A big brute. I think you know of him?¡± Pauwna winced. ¡°Ah, that one. He was a tough Tazzus to shatter. Ah, a Tazzus is a shelled water animal that we eat. Anyway, once the tired he fled, though I left him with a parting gift. I was too busy to chase. It didn''t occur to me you might come across him. I suppose that he got you on his way out?¡± While she was talking, Pauwna had been rumaging through her kit. She brought out a bandage, two flasks, and a familiar thread and needle. Uncorking one of the flasks, which brought the sharp smell of medicinal herbs, she scooped some out. Oh joy, more stitches. ¡°Almost. We fought and ¡ª,¡± he paused to grit his teeth as she applied a generous helping of the green paste to the wound. ¡°I didn''t dodge well enough. I got him back in the end, though. He won¡¯t be bothering anyone anymore.¡± Pauwna looked up sharply, her four eyebrows climbing high in surprise. Now, that was the first time he had seen that expression from her. He thought that she might be impressed. ¡°How did you manage that? I know I left him with quite a wound, but he should have been well beyond your level.¡± He held up his two remaining enchanted bolts in response. Dante didn¡¯t think that her eyebrows could climb any higher but he was proven wrong. He could see why she teased him now. It was quite fun. ¡°That explains it. Just where did you get something like that? Those things are pricey.¡± ¡°S¨±nva lent me some coin. Ok, a lot of coin.¡± The second part was in response to a look of disbelief. ¡°It also allowed me to get one of these.¡± He brought the healing draught out of the bag. Pauwna stared at that for a long moment, then shook her head. ¡°Just a little bit of coin he says,¡± Pauwna muttered to herself as she unstoppered one of the vials. The strong of alcohol wafted over and he prepared himself to relive that experience. ¡°Only a healing potion,¡± she continued mockingly. ¡°That woman really is one of the good ones.¡± She poured the alcohol over the wound and he felt ¡­ a slight sting. Dante experimentally poked at the wound and realized that he barely felt anything before Pauwna swatted the finger away. That was a surprise. A numbing agent? Do those exist here? Well, that makes this whole thing a lot easier. Guess Sv¨­l didn¡¯t have any. Or was too cheap to use any on me. I will choose to believe that it¡¯s the first one. ¡°So what did you learn from the fight?¡± Dante considered the question as Pauwna tied a needle to thread, then got to work. He adverted his eyes when it entered his flesh. All he felt was a pinch, followed by tugging. While not comfortable, it was vastly preferable to the last time ¡°Every Ahsmati fights differently. This one was strong, difficult to damage, but relatively slow. Unlike the last one we fought, which used spells but could be damaged by a normal crossbow bolt. If I had known that, I would have used the enchanted bolts first and not have gotten this.¡± He gestures with his chin to the injury. ¡°Good lessons. You touched upon perhaps the most important factor in combat. Information. When you face an unknown opponent in combat, you must figure out what they do before they kill you. If you know this, you can counter them. Or run away if hopeless. It is a problem that the high ranks suffer, becoming so famous that their abilities are well known.¡± That was a lot to take in. It mirrored some of his own thoughts, but he hadn¡¯t quite thought it through. In fact, that meant ¡­ ¡°I shouldn¡¯t reveal my abilities carelessly, should I? Or else they will start being countered.¡± Pauwna made that strange chuffing sound that he interrupted as laughter. ¡°Worry about living to see tomorrow first, but yes, you are right. Don¡¯t use abilities where the enemy can see, hide that you used them at all if you do. If you can¡¯t do those two things, then try at least to obscure how your ability works. Now shut up and hold still. I need to patch you up before they finish up over there.¡± Dante did as she asked. He had something else he needed to look at anyway. He opened his character sheet, then gazed with satisfaction at the line next to Class. [Classes Available] It was finally time to get one. From what Pauwna had told him, this was an important moment in the life of people from this world. With bated breath, he opened his options.
Choose a [Class] Stolen novel; please report. W?lian Soldier (Common)
Description: The common soldiery, the W?lian Empire is built upon their combined efforts. Strongest when arm in arm with their comrades and in casting collaborative magic. Boosts buffs from commanding officers.
Attributes: +1 Charisma, +1 Constitution, +1 Endurance, +3 free points per level.
Requirements: Be a citizen of the W?lian Empire.
Hunter of Ahsmati (Uncommon)
Description: You have gone out of your way to exterminate Ahsmati, far before you were ready. Even the strongest of their kind will fear you one day. Gain bonuses, extra damage, and adaptive temporary abilities when fighting against Ahsmati.
Attributes: +1 Endurance, + 1 Dexterity, + 1 Alacrity, + 4 free points per level.
Requirements: Kill an Ahsmati before unlocking a class.
Charged Warrior (Rare)
Description: You were weak when your foes were strong. You know well the worth of sacrificing for power and have become adept at managing the lows. Gain bonuses to overloaded abilities and become stronger as the fight goes on.
Attributes: +1 Constitution, + 1 Fortitude, +2 Endurance, + 4 free points per level.
Requirements: Possess two overloaded abilities and have a combined constitution, strength, and willpower over 40.
Charged Mage (Rare)
Description: You surpassed your limits for great power at a cost. Become a paragon of power. For a time. Overcharge again and again for more severe costs.
Attributes: + 2 Cognition, +1 Alacrity, +1 Willpower, + 4 free points per level.
Requirements: Possess two overloaded abilities and a combined cognition, endurance, and alacrity of over 40.
Aura Adept (Rare)
Description: You have begun to tap into concepts beyond which most never reach. Gain greater control over your abilities. Win aura contests with your foes.
Attributes: +2 to Endurance, +2 Cognition, +4 free points per level.
Requirements: Unlock two abilities that utilize aura. Have one exceed your level. Possess [Aura Manipulation].
Indomitable Survivor (Rare)
Description: You have encountered impossible circumstances and survived them, time and time again. Give up on change to endure. This is not the end of your challenges and neither will it be the end of you.
Attributes: +2 Constitution, +2 Fortitude, +4 free points per level.
Requirements: Make it through three encounters with less than ten percent survival projection.
¡°Psst, Hey!¡± Dante turned with confusion to where Pauwna was finishing patching up his wounds. She had paused for the moment and was looking at him with uncharacteristic seriousness. Why was she whispering? ¡°You can¡¯t be doing that right now.¡± ¡°Doing what?¡± ¡°Whatever it is you do when you sit there and stare off into space like an idiot. With the looks and mumbling, it¡¯s a wonder that they don¡¯t think you are crazy. I did at first.¡± ¡°What, the [Stat ¡ª¡± He was abruptly cut off when Pauwna¡¯s hand clamped over his mouth. She put a finger up to her lips and he nodded. Then she removed her hand. ¡°I don¡¯t know what that is, but you can¡¯t say it here. Too many ears. You don¡¯t want the others to know.¡± Seeing the burning questions in his eyes, she sighed and said: ¡°We will talk about it later, ok? In private.¡± He nodded but had to ask: ¡°But I need to do it. Here, of all places, I need to be stronger.¡± Pauwna hesitated then nodded reluctantly. ¡°Make it quick and try to be subtle about it.¡± He decided to take that advice. For lack of a better option, Dante took out his journal and acted like he was reading it. He even made sure that his screens were overlaid over the pages. Out of the corner of his eye, he could Sv¨­l tying off a bandage over Ren¡¯s wound. It was evident that he had very little time, so he needed to be quick. I don¡¯t talk to myself or make faces when thinking. Do I? While he speed-read through the options, he carefully kept track of his face. To his chagrin, he did find himself mouthing the words and he put a stop to that. He idly wondered if putting more points into charisma would fix this problem. Stop with that, I need to focus. At the very least, he had more options this time around, baring when he had initially died. Six in total, ranging from common to uncommon. It looked like each gave him different attributes. A lot of them in fact. No wonder I was so much weaker than everyone else. I¡¯ve been getting what? Like three attribute points per level. Even my worst option gives double that! I am going to get strong so much faster. One thing did jump out at him. He read through the attributes line one more time, just to be sure. There was a pattern in the attributes. Each jump in rarity gave one more point, alternating between an additional fixed and free point. Why would anyone not pick their highest rarity option? I guess maybe if a lower rarity class had something that you really want? I mean, it sounds like we get something besides these attributes, so perhaps some of those are good. Shame that I can¡¯t see that. Although, Pauwna would know and she already knows I am different. She hasn¡¯t turned me in yet and I need this information badly. Dante turned from his screens overlaid back to Pauwna. She was finishing the last few stitches and was reaching for the bandages. He cleared his throat and she glanced at him questioningly, a warning still in her eye. ¡°So, classes. I know they give more attributes, but do I get anything else besides that?¡± Pauwna did not say anything and just stared at him. He repeated the question and she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Dante got the feeling he had given away more than he had intended. ¡°I thought my ears had failed me. Young children are taught this. What a strange place your homeland must be, for you not to know this. We will talk more about this later, but I will tell you this. A class gives you more attributes, a class keystone, and one selection from that class''s abilities.¡± She hesitated for a moment, then added: ¡°If you tell me what you got, I can give you more.¡± Well, she already knows so much. What''s a little more? So he told her the names of all the classes. ¡°You got multiple rares, huh? That¡¯s good. Very good. Unusual that they are all combat-focused. Hmm, can¡¯t say I¡¯ve heard of the last one or the [Aura Adept]. But the first four? I can tell you a bit about them. First off, forget about [Hunter of Ahsmati] or else you will be hunted. They rather make a point of it actually. I know the most about [W?lian Soldier], though I don¡¯t recommend it for you. Your attributes get minor boosts by being around others of the same class. Buffing abilities from other W?lian classes are empowered on you and you receive assistance for synergistic magic. That¡¯s what the additional charisma is for. Pretty standard for soldiers, though the charisma-based magic is unique to the Empire. As for the charged classes, I barely know anything about them. Usually, people die before getting an overloaded ability, much less two. All I know is that the warrior type gets some sort of bonus every time they expend a charge and the caster can skip the cooldown on charges for much higher cooldowns later. I hear they can even permanently burn them.¡± Pauwna finished tying the bandage and then gestured to the squad behind him. Dante turned and saw that they were climbing to their feet. Ren had been bandaged and was looking steadier on her feet. ¡°You only have a few moments to make your choice. Be quick.¡± Pauwna got up and walked over to the rest of the group, leaving him alone with a churning mind. Dante slapped his cheeks, trying to bring his thoughts into focus. He had to approach this decisively and keep one point in mind. Which of these is going to let me see the next day? 34 - In A Class of His Own, Part 4 It was time to go through each of these and make a snap decision. Beginning with [W?lian Soldier]. No. Just no. There was no way in hell he was tying his fate to this empire and its wars. The same went for [Hunter of Ahsmati], for all the reasons Pauwna had outlined and more. Pass. Next were the charged classes. These were compelling. Most of his abilities were tied to the overloaded mechanic, so there was a synergy there. He still couldn¡¯t help but feel that he missed an upgraded version when he chose not to get a third overloaded ability. Dante felt that he should at least decide between one of them. Of the two, he felt that the warrior version synchronized the most with his current attributes and his desire to live through this ¡ª though it was a bit too much endurance for his taste. He did like the idea of using multiple charges at once. But it had no attributes he liked, so he preferred [Charged Warrior]. [Aura Adept] was the most mysterious of the options. It seemed to hint at offering more finesse with [Overloaded Warding Flesh], which he had gotten a taste of with [Aura Manipulation]. He had liked what he had seen with that skill so far, so it was tempting. There was the line that said that it was a pathway to secret things, which appealed to his curiosity. However, it seemed like it would take time to master. Time that he did not have. The stats it gave were not optimal either. Cognition didn¡¯t seem relevant, given his current situation. A reluctant no on that one. His last choice was [Indomitable Survivor]. On the face of it, it seemed perfect. It focused on giving attributes that he would always need and it would boost his survivability. Dante was just leery of the line that said: ¡®give up on change. ¡¯ He wasn¡¯t quite sure what it meant, but he didn¡¯t want to be too passive. Sometimes, he would need to take a stand. When he had fought that Ahsmati earlier, he had only won because he had a way to strike back. Still, it was perfect on every other account. So maybe. Which just left a choice between [Charged Warrior] and [Indominatable Survivor]. One was practical and the other was a risk. One flexible, one inflexible. Dante didn¡¯t have time to agonize over this, so he went with his gut. You have selected [Charged] Warrior as your [Class] +1 to Constitution, + 1 to Fortitude, +2 to Endurance 4 free attribute points are available A new ability can be selected Keystone [Rising Tide] obtained
Rising Tide
All abilities gain one charge. All overloaded abilities have increased intensity and longer charge duration. Penalties during downtime are increased and charge cooldown is reduced. While a charge is on cooldown, attributes are slightly increased.
This is complicated. Perhaps the most text out of any ability I have. Let¡¯s check ¡­ Yep, both of my overloaded abilities now have two charges. It seems incredibly good, just a straight up power increase. And that last part, I wonder if ¡ª ¡°Dante! Get into position. We have wasted enough time as it is.¡± He looked away from his notebook to see the squad ready to go and S¨±nva giving a rather stern look. That was the first time he had a look like that from S¨±nva. It was not a happy one. The unit that they had assisted had already left. Dante began stuffing his notebook in his bag and rose to his feet. I will think about that later. Also, I will need to take a look at whats available for my new class abilities. ¡°Sorry! Coming.¡± He called back, having stored everything and re-equipped his crossbow. He stood up and began jogging over when he remembered something. Ah! I still need to distribute the free attribute points. I¡¯ve been meaning to add points to alacrity. Everything in this war happens way too fast for me, so it¡¯s time to change that. +4 to alacrity The instant he confirmed his choice, he began to feel ¡­ strange. It was only then that he remembered the deleterious effects that his past attribute changes had. Suspiciously, the effects from the class attributes hadn¡¯t hit yet either. He only had time for one thought before it hit. This is going to suck. Time had slowed to a crawl. Heat flared through his muscle and his skin began to itch. The step he had taken towards the group moved as if through cold honey. The strange thing was that it was selective. His heartbeat maintained the same rate and he could hear it in his ears. A steady thud, thud, thud. This persisted until his foot nearly reached the ground, a time made longer by his discomfort, then it flipped. His foot crashed into the ground, moving far too quickly. By comparison, his thoughts were now sluggish and he was falling before the change even registered. His heart rate caught with time, becoming a staccato thudthudthud. Then it was normal again and Dante caught himself right before the fall became hopeless. The entire experience was like the worst head rush he had ever experienced. He was unsteady on his feet and his limbs trembled, his sense of balance ruined. He forced himself to take another step forward. He couldn¡¯t reveal what had happened. Already, his lapse had garnered attention from the group. ¡°Are you alright?¡± asked S¨±nva, concern peeking through her placid exterior. Behind her, Pauwna sent him a knowing look and rolled her eyes. ¡°Yes. Sorry, just a brief bout of lightheadedness. I am fine now.¡± That part was true, he felt fantastic. An aftereffect from increasing his constitution and endurance. He bet that, beneath his bandage, the wound was already partly healed. Plus, the change to his reaction speed was very noticeable. After all, he had nearly increased his alacrity by fifty percent. It was like he processed the world at a smoother rate, even his thoughts were quicker. He now understood that what he had thought were brief moments of strategizing were an eternity to someone with senses like this. How slow he must appear to them. It must have been aggravating. S¨±nva gave him a piercing look and Dante could tell that he had not quite convinced her. ¡°Speak up if it happens again. Get into position. We have wasted too much time already.¡± Nodding his head, Dante walked back into the center of the formation where he very much felt like a VIP protected by bodyguards. A picture that was highlighted, given that he was spotless where as they were covered in so much dust they appeared corpse white. Paired with the blots of blood from the earlier fight, they looked like they had gone through the wringer. The feeling of uselessness came back. But then, he reminded himself that he had actually taken down an Ahsmati. Sure, it was injured and on the lower-level side, but he had contributed. In fact, perhaps there was a way he could help right now. Dante sidled up to Pauwna, then focused on his sensation of [Overloaded Warding Flesh]. It was getting easier, especially with the increases to [Aura Manipulation]. He could feel the area had expanded, perhaps about a body length distance from him at all times. ¡°May I test something on you?¡± He asked Pauwna. ¡°If it works, I can clean off all of that dust.¡± Once she had given him a hesitant nod, Dante expended a charge and reached out with [Aura Manipulation]. With it, he managed to shape [Overloaded Warding Flesh] beyond anything he had attempted before. He pushed it towards Pauwna and it swelled beyond his expectations, easily enveloping her. She stiffened as all the dust flew off her as if she had stood in the path of a strong wind, her short hair billowing widely. When it was done, she was spotless save for the dried blood patches. Even her hair was free of impurities. It was strange, it seemed like the dust on the opposite side had also blown off, giving the impression that the wind had flowed through her and only affected the dust. It seemed like the ability went through objects. Recollecting herself, Pauwna inspected her gear and, seeming satisfied, gave him a nod. ¡°My thanks. That filth was distracting and it¡¯s bad for the equipment besides.¡± She turned from him and yelled to the front: ¡°Hey, Rhea, take a look at this!¡± After displaying the trick again to S¨±nva, Dante soon found himself doing the same for every member of the squad. He had to admit, being able to help in that way reassured some of the fear that he was a burden. It was small, but this was something that only he could do. Even if he was being, in essence, a glorified shower. Though it certainly didn¡¯t seem to change Ren¡¯s opinion of him. She had even rolled her eyes when she saw that they were stopping for this. What even is her deal? Am I ever going to win her over? It quickly became apparent that he didn¡¯t need to use his charges for this, but at least he learned that the cooldown was closer to forty seconds now. Which was better than before, but still an eternity on the battlefield. He also saw firsthand the effect of his new keystone on his stats. With a single cast, it had changed substantially. He opened his character sheet briefly as they continued again.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Charged Warrior Level: 5 Attributes
Alacrity 13 (14) Endurance 16 (17)
Charisma 7 (8) Fortitude 18 (20)
Cognition 14 (15) Perception 11 (12) The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Constitution 19 (21) Strength 8 (9)
Dexterity 12 (13) Willpower 14 (15)
Skills
Aura Manipulation (Rare) 2
Brawl (Common) 4
Crossbow (Uncommon) 4
Deception (Common) 1
Lock Picking (Uncommon) 4
Logic (Rare) 4
Builder (Common) 6
Sleight of Hand (Uncommon) 1
Stealth (Uncommon) 2
Abilities
Chameleon (Rare) 4
Overloaded Senses (Rare) 5
Temporal Reactions (Legendary) 5
Overloaded Warding Flesh (Unique) 8
[Selections Available] N/A
Traits
Fickle Fate (Unique) MAX
Human Tenacity (Racial) 4
Rising Tide (Class) 1
2957
It wouldn¡¯t hurt to take a look at my new ability options, would it? Besides, it¡¯s also risky to fight when I am not at full power. He opened the menu and made sure to keep his eyes forward. Dante eagerly devoured the new menu and was disappointed that it wasn¡¯t near infinite like before. At least nearly all the options were good.
Choose a [Ability] Charged Strike (Uncommon)
Description: Invest stamina to empower a strike. Hold it at the ready to accumulate additional power.
Requirements: None
Charged Block (Uncommon)
Description: Invest stamina to empower your guard. The longer it is held, the stronger it is.
Requirements: None
Charged Meditation (Uncommon)
Description: Fall into a meditative trance and recover health and mana. Starts slow and accelerates. Moving or casting will break the trance.
Requirements: None
Regeneration (Rare)
Description: Heal from damage at an accelerated speed. Can regenerate lost limbs at a slow rate.
Requirements: Suffer three life-threatening injuries and survive.
Mana Body Fortification (Rare)
Description: Permanently dedicate a portion of your mana to preserving your body''s natural state. Stores a part of all damage, poisons, and adverse effects in a limited buffer. This buffer must be cleared to be available again.
Requirements: Have at least twenty-five percent of mana dedicated towards defense. Must possess no abilities that are aggressive.
¡°Close ranks! Ahsmati formation coming in from vun¨±r!¡± Dante had barely read through the list when he was distracted by the cry. Before he could react, he was shoved against the side of the trench. He looked around, slightly dazed. They had just reached the second line of trenches and were at an intersection. Turning on his heel, he could see no sign of enemies. I have no idea what direction is vun¨±r! How did I not get taught this? Sv¨­l, Pauwna, and S¨±nva were standing between the party and the rest of the trench. Dante was squashed in the middle and behind him was Ren, Varvi, and R¨¥va. Everyone had their weapons out and were looking ¡­ up? Following their gaze, he saw nothing at first until he spotted glinting specks moving through the sky. Ones that were quickly growing bigger. He had a few seconds. Dante made an impulse pick. [Mana Body Fortification] Acquired Trait unlocked! [Mana ¡ª Dante swiped the notifications out of the way and reached into his bag to grab the red bolt. He loaded it into the crossbow, aimed down the sights, and waited. Belatedly, he remembered to activate the charge on [Overloaded Sharpen Senses]. His vision sharpened and he could now make out a large feathered snake-like Ahsmati that he had never seen before. This one reminded him somewhat of an eastern dragon save for the feathers. It undulated through the air, somehow flying without wings. It was surround by a few dozen of the smaller winged serpent Ahsmati, like the one who had savaged him in the last battle. After seeing that large Ahsmati, Dante regretted his choice of bolt. He hoped it was nothing like the Black Wind. If it was, then they were all doomed. There was a thrum sound as another crossbow fired, which surprised him as he hadn¡¯t known anyone else in the unit used one. A bolt lanced into the sky so quickly that the feathered serpent only had time to flinch before it struck. Curiously, it passed through the scales and out the other end without apparent harm but the beast roared in pain. Trailing it, were vestiges of blue something. He wasn¡¯t sure what it was, except that it wasn¡¯t blood. Following quickly behind was Ren¡¯s laser, the largest he had seen yet from her. It raked across the sky, felling a couple of smaller Ahsmati before focusing on the snake one ¡ª which largely seemed unaffected. She made a second gesture and a crystal lens formed in its path, transforming it into dozens of smaller beams which unerringly struck down the smaller Ahsmati. Taking it as a queue, Dante waited a second longer and then fired his own. I hope this works as advertised. A few feet into its flight, the bolt blurred, then became dozens. None were as large as the original, but it caused the Ahsmati swarm to disperse. Most made it out of the way. Most. Level 6 [Tund Ahsmati] has been slain Level 9 [Tund Ahsmati] has been slain Level 7 [Tund Ahsmati] has been slain Your Participation: 100% Don¡¯t think about it don¡¯t think about it don¡¯t think about it. While his arrow had cleared all of the small ones, the big serpent had not diverted course. All of the bolts that struck it had bounced off to no ill effect. Green fire flickered in its maw and Dante did not want to figure out what that did. Time slowed down as [Temporal Reactions] activated. It was more drastic than he expected, rivaling pre-specialization levels, but the ¡®why¡¯ of that could wait for another time. He looked around his teammates to see how bad this was. The best the situation could be described was pandemonium. Pauna was converting all of her blood to a shield, people were diving all around, and Sv¨­l had placed his palms on the ground where a stone wall was rising. It was not fast enough, the Ahsmati would be upon them. He had to do something. A flew plans flashed through his mind and died. Dante remembered what he had done the last time he had faced an Ahsmati using fire. It was risky, but could save them all. No choice really. Dante vaulted over the conjured stone wall and positioned himself in front of everyone. With a plume of green fire bearing down upon them, he activated in quick succession [Overloaded Senses] and then [Overloaded Warding Flesh]. The repulsive aura burst out of him like never before, about double its usual size. It wasn¡¯t enough, but it was the best he could manage. ¡°[Empire¡¯s Decree: Empower]¡± shouted S¨±nva and Dante felt a strange energy infuse his limbs. The aura ballooned further and he began to shape his aura, extending it forward into a wedge shape. Then the flame was upon him. It beat against his barrier and Dante was immediately pushed backwards. The back of his calves met the stone wall and he pitched over. Strong hands grabbed on and he looked back to see that Pauwna and Sv¨­l had supported him. Now firmly locked in position, he could see the raging fire was breaking upon his barrier and the wedge shape had diverted it to the sides. They were not quite out of danger yet though, the onslaught was slowly inching towards them. He could feel the intense heat and it was getting worse by the moment. Even more worryingly, he could feel the end of the overcharge approaching. With no sign of the flames ceasing, he paid close attention to the ability. The instant its power sagged and the dragon¡¯s breath roared forward, he activated the second charge. Where once the heat was stifling, it was now unbearable. He could feel the burns beginning to form, a process he was now well familiar with. There was a splash of cold and the contrast made him gasp. Liquid dripped down him and he realised Pauwna had poured their waterskin over him. It helped tremendously, providing a much-needed barrier between himself and the heat. With a roar, he pushed back and kept the fire in check for a bit longer. When it died, he would have fallen had the hands holding him not kept him upright. They lowered him to the stone, where he sat he in relief. His skin smarted, still feeling the heat, but he was unharmed. Hovering in front of them, he could see the serpent panting. Another bolt flew from behind him and struck it, eliciting a roar. It winged away, splatting them with thick droplets of blood. [Aura Manipulation] has increased to Level 3 He had done it. Tanked the attack. Proved his worth. Looking around, he could see a new level of respect in his companion''s eyes. Even Ren no longer looked down her nose at him. Like all good things, it did not last long. There was a chorus of small roars and Dante looked up to see the smaller Ahsmati congregating. This battle was still far from over. 35 - In A Class of His Own, Part 5 The moment over, Dante retreated to the back of the formation. Aside from his crossbow, he couldn¡¯t participate in the rest of the battle ¡ª though he did keep his eyes open for any other breath attacks. Instead, he reloaded his crossbow with regular bolts and his best to shoot down the smallest Ahsmati. It wasn¡¯t like his team needed his help anyway. Now that the larger threat had fled, they had fallen back into their old roles with practised ease. Ren did most of the work, resuming her laser attack. She resumed using her summoned lens to difract her beams, striking many of the Ahsmati at once. More resilient specimens received a greater share of the beams until they plummeted. Dante wasn¡¯t quite sure how she managed it, Surely such a spell would require splitting your focus dozens of times? Oftentimes, she was free to focus on the smaller ones as Varvi disposed of any problematic Ahsmati. The weasel-faced man fired crossbolt shots at a rate that put Dante to shame and he began to wonder just where Varvi was getting these bolts from. Each bolt seemed to strike with greater force than was natural and took impossible turns in the sky, obviously being directed by something. After striking their targets, the bolts remained in the sky and were directed by some force. Varvi was quickly growing a small cloud of bolts which he rammed through the Ahsmati ranks again and again. Dante contributed where he could, aiming carefully and firing his dwindling supply of bolts. It was perhaps not his most intelligent decision, bringing only nine unenchated bolts to the battlefield. Dante had largely stopped firing at that point, saving his supply for critical moments. I had all that money, bought the sports car equivalent of enchanted bolts, and forgot to buy a reload. Then only realized that when I used half of them up. Sometimes, I am so dumb. The Ahsmati had closed the distance long ago, harrying the group in melee. This was where the rest of the squad came into play. Pauna was the most effective here, dashing between weak opponents with her superior speed and taking them down with a flurry of strikes. She would extract a few droplets of blood from each and use them to grow her armor, which now covered her shoulders. Sv¨­l, by comparison, was a bastion of safety. One which the vulnerable members of the team anchored to, including Dante. Dressed in heavy plate, the man kept a watchful eye on the flow of the battle and interceded as need be. He used his shovel both offensively and defensively, using it as a mobile shield. Perhaps the party member he knew the least about, R¨¥va, acted as a connection point between Pauwna and Sv¨­l. R¨¥va favored a spear and buckler, which she used to cover Pauna¡¯s blind spots and always kept an avenue of escape open. Throughout it all, S¨±nva filled any gaps in their formation. With her unearthly star-filled armor, she was not afraid to take a hit. If anyone was flagging, she would hit them with an empowering spell. If any problems arose, she adeptly issued orders to address them. Then it was over and they were surrounded by Ahsmati corpses. Aside from a scratch here and there, they were untouched. They all took a few seconds to take a breath and recover. Dante hadn¡¯t know that you could get so exhaust in a few minutes. He hadn¡¯t even done that much! ¡°I didn¡¯t know that you take an attack like that, Dante,¡± S¨±nva said to him in an even tone. ¡°I would prefer to know what my soldiers can do before they hurdle themselves into danger.¡± Dante winced. ¡°I didn¡¯t know either,¡± he admitted. ¡°I have been doing a lot of training at camp and wasn¡¯t quite sure what my capabilities were.¡± [Deception] has advanced to Level 2 ¡°Honestly! What were you thinking? The rest of us would have survived that spell, should the worst happen, but you would have been reduced to ashes had you overestimated yourself!¡± She took a long sigh, seeming to reorder her thoughts, then continued in a more even tone, ¡°That said, could you do that again in the future? It would be a useful addition to our capabilities.¡± ¡°I should be able to, but ¡­¡± He paused, searching for the words. Then, a realization passed through him. Don¡¯t reveal unneeded details about your capabilities to people you are going to betray one day. ¡°Only certain kinds of attacks. Has to be spread out. Like fire, liquid, or a cloud. Strong, piercing attacks are no good.¡± S¨±nva pondered that for a moment while cleaning the viscera off her sword. ¡°Hmm, it¡¯s very specific but helpful nevertheless. The Ahsmati favor fire in their breath weapons, so it¡¯s fortunate that you can counter this. However, I am reluctant to include you in anything complicated as you might mess up our formations. For now, if I call your name and point, then that means shield in that direction. No more of this jumping in front of us, Understood?¡± ¡°Yes, S¨±nva, I understand.¡± ¡°Alright, let¡¯s continue.¡± Everyone resumed their positions and Dante heaved himself up, groaning. His skin felt raw, as if he had spilt boiling water over the front of his body. There was another feeling too, a new one. It was like a portion of his pain was being ¡­ held off. Like he had taken pain killers that only applied to part of his pain. This, he was certain, was the effect of [Mana Body Fortification]. Focusing on it, he could tell instinctively that it was about half full and that he could ¡­ release some of it. He likened the feeling to a faucet that you could adjust. Can¡¯t say I am pleased that it¡¯s already so full. Without some way of recovery, I effectively can¡¯t remove it unless I find a healer. Wonder if I at least, managed to level it when I tanked that attack. Let¡¯s check the notifications. Dante had never dismissed a system message mid-battle before and saw that there was no longer a notification for them. I wonder if there is a way to ¡­ ah there it was. In fact, it seemed like the system had recorded every single one of his notifications. He scrolled to the bottom. [Mana Body Fortification] Acquired Trait unlocked! [Mana Ascetic] [Mana Body Fortification] has increased to Level 2 So, he had increased its level in that last exchange. It was a good consolation prize, at the very least. But what was this about a new trait? Dante had started with a few of them but had never acquired one before. With a thought, he opened it.
Mana Ascetic
You have sworn off all magic, having reserved all of your mana. No longer able to cast anything that requires it, you are free to dedicate yourself to inward perfection. Moderately increases capabilities of abilities that reserve a portion of your mana.
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. This was a disaster. All of his excitement, all of his hope of one day mastering magic, was crushed by a single message. It had to have been [Mana Body Fortification], it was the only possible recent thing that could have caused this. It did say ¡®Dedicate a portion of your mana¡¯ in its description, but that was only part of his mana. Not all of it. There had to be some other ability that also reserved some of his mana. Perhaps [Overload Warding Flesh]? How was I supposed to know that this would happen? It felt like the system had screwed him over, what with it constantly giving him no information. It was no wonder that he had eventually screwed up. Now, one of his only pleasures in this world had been stolen from him. There has to be a way to correct this, right? Some kind of reselection or workaround. I want to ask Pauna, but there is no way I can do that here, in the middle of our team. The instant we are alone however, I intend on getting some answers out of her. Whether that reveals more of my past or not. Dante forced his attention back to the present as the squad moved ever closer to the first and foremost trenches. On their way, they came across many scenes of battle. Dead Ahsmati littered the ground so thickly in place that it was difficult to find a clear spot to step. Which was not to say that the Empire had not taken casualties; they frequently passed impromptu medical stations filled with many groaning wounded. To say nothing of the dead, layed out in the back of those camps in respectful rows. More were being brought in all the time. By this point, they had moved beyond the dust cloud caused by their initial assault and Dante saw the sky for the first time since coming here. Above them all lay the massive rent in the barrier. It had grown much larger since Dante had last seen it. the Black Wind wouldn¡¯t struggle to fit through it anymore. Scores and scores of Ahsmati streamed through it like a locust swarm. They were met with flying ships and a small cloud of soldiers. At least he thought they were ships, they had no sails. Instead, several large fins protruded from their side. They undulated rhythmically like the fins on a fish, propelling the crafts forward. They seemed to have some kind of lightning weapon that would chain between swarms, laying dozens of Ahsmati waste with each shot. While the ships were far outnumbered, they displayed organization and tactics beyond their adversaries. Even as he watched, one ship was harried by several large drake-like Ahsmati. Two neighboring ships immediately responded by diving towards their beleaguered brethren and provided fire support. Something reacted as all three ships drew together. A hitherto invisible purple barrier around each ship became visible as they overlapped. Each was absolutely stuffed with sigils. They merged, expanded, then detonated, clearing a large space around each craft. Dante was finding it hard to concentrate on the battlefield with that happening overhead. Every time I think I have a handle on what the Empire can do, I am forced to reevaluate. I had some inkling when S¨±nva didn¡¯t seem too surprised by my descriptions of America, but I never expected something like this! This military technology is so much more advanced than any other aspect of their society. It¡¯s kind of odd, really. ¡°You have noticed it too, haven¡¯t you S¨±nva?¡± It was Sv¨­l who spoke, distracting Dante from his inspections of the sky above. He frowned in confusion. Noticed what exactly? ¡°Yes, it¡¯s strange. I thought we were just getting lucky, but after seeing that,¡± she gestured at the sky above, ¡°I am now certain. This is far too easy. Most of their number is low ranks.¡± This was easy? They had easily passed hundreds of their dead on the way here. Dante watched as one of the sky ships above fell through the air, consumed in flames and smoke, then detonated somewhere behind enemy lines. If this was what they considered easy, then normal must be borderline apocalyptic. They turned the corner and came upon a battle. The oh so familiar trench in front of them was packed with a press of bodies. W?lian soldiers stood abrest with shields raised, jabbing between the cracks in the shield wall into a slathering horde of serpentine bodies. Behind them, was a row of mages who were struggling to cast into the fray without hitting their allies. A screaming soldier was dragged out of the fray, coated in a green acid that was rapidly eating away at him to a single healer in the back. ¡°Dante, treat that man!¡± S¨±nva barked before dashing forward and shouting empowering spells at the press of soldiers. She was quickly followed by Sv¨­l and Pauwna, who shouldered their way to the front. The rest of the party integrated into the mage group and contributed where they could. Leaving him alone to follow his orders. Dante hurried over to the suffering man, paused, then approached from a different direction. He didn¡¯t want the acid to fly into the healer or onto another soldier. As the man entered the radius of [Overloaded Warding Flesh], Dante expended a charge and watched as the acid was flung from the man into the side of the trench. In a moment, nearly all of it was gone. The healer gave him a grateful look, poured water over the few still affected areas, then got to healing. Meanwhile, Dante had returned his attention back to the battle. He was relieved to see no new types of Ahsmati, just the same ones that he had fought in the past. Through sheer, accumulated mass, they slowly push back the soldiers. At least, they did until his squad arrived. Sv¨­l lept through the air and was empowered by a shouted [Empire¡¯s Decree: Indomitable] from S¨±nva. He easily cleared the press to land amongst the Ahsmati horde, creating a chorus of snapping bones. As Sv¨­l landed, he plunged his shovel into the ground and a ripple passed through the stone of the trench. Ahsmati close to the impact were flung back and the others sunk into the stone. Then, Pauwna was among them. She clawed at joints and at the gaps between scales, amassing even more blood into her regalia. It was beautifully coordinated and must have been the result of countless hours of training. The maneuver bought the space needed for the rest of the soldiers to pile on, decisively turning the battle in their favor. I always suspected that my team wasn¡¯t normal He watched the blood armor solidifying a chestplate over Pauwna. With its sharp edges, jutting horns, and literally being made of blood, the overall effect was quite demonic. By comparison, the rest of the soldiers looked quite ordinary. They are stronger than most of the soldiers we have run across. I wonder why I was put with them? Dante, for his part, helped out where he could. He did not attempt to join the primary battle, even the regular jostling between the W?lian Soldiers was libel to snap his bones. Instead, he focused on dragging injured soldiers out of the fray. Several times, he found himself using [Overloading Warding Flesh] to extinguish various elemental effects from the Ahsmati breath weapons, most of which was fire. Before he even realized it, the fight was over. The remaining wounded Ahsmati fled over the lip of the trench and towards the gap in the great barrier. The mages and archers, who had been useless up until this point, savaged them as the creatures ran across the open plain. In the end, none of them made it out. A tired cheer was raised and Dante joined in. He was surprised that he felt pure, heart-pounding exhilaration at the victory. It was the kind of high you felt after your favorite team won a particularly fraught match. Except more ¡­ primal. In that moment, he could understand the joy that he had seen on Pauwna¡¯s face during these fights. And it scared him. Dante didn¡¯t want to become the type of person who enjoyed bloodshed, yet here he was. Besides, it looked more and more like he was not on the correct side of this war. That some of the Ahsmati were ¡­ not adults. After that stark reminder, he felt sick and the enthusiasm was dampened. Yet the thrill still remained. He was distracted from those thoughts when a second sun detonated far up in the sky. It was pure white and was framed by a corona of ghostly flames. It should have been terrifying, but instead, it filled his heart with courage and buoyed his flagging mood. Shielding his eyes, he could see a figure hovering in the middle of an elemental explosion. There was only one person he knew who could do that. Princess Ahzi.