It was absurd.

“B-Rank, Level Four,” I said aloud, trying to establish exactly how pants-shittingly concerned I should be. If it were accurate, and I had leaped forward by… five ranks, then I had somehow unearthed a tasty morsel of a loophole. I wasn’t sure I liked it. If my pal—the orb—had been telling the truth, B-Rank was something I couldn’t have hoped to achieve in ten years, let alone ten hours. Could it really have been as simple as that to gain more capability in a Skill?

I was staring at the proof of it, so I supposed it could very well have been such a breeze.

I guess sometimes, you just gotta go with your gut and hurl yourself butthole-first into danger.

I opened the notification for my Level Up, and it brought with it something I hadn't thought about since arriving in this new land: my character sheet. There were some definite changes, especially with some of my Abilities, primarily, I noticed that I’d gained a boost to my Primal Rage. Some of the other Abilities situated in the orbit of my Class had raised with the Level Up as well, though not enough to send me hootin’ and hollerin’ into the night.

There was also the pesky little notifier that I was suffering from the Fatigue I effect, which reduced my capability in a number of Skills and Abilities. That would certainly bite me in the dick. I hated that this seemed like something I would need to pay attention to from now on. Especially considering my penchant for insomnia.

When it rains it hurricanes.

I spent a few extra moments looking at my stats, grumbling over not seeing the extreme gains I felt were owed to me. However, after seeing all the numbers swimming in front of me, I promised myself to not make a habit of checking it too often unless there was some major change or Level increase. Otherwise that would be exhausting and pointless.

Loon

Race: Orc

Class: Barbarian

Level: 3

Profession: Unassigned

Health: 38 / 195

Arcana: 85 / 85

Max Stamina: 123 (-5% due to Fatigue I)

Experience: 2,805

Reputation: N/A

Attributes

*-5% efficiency due to Fatigue I

Remaining Points to Allocate: 6

Strength: 9

Constitution: 21

Dexterity: 9

Wisdom: 10

Intelligence: 8

Charisma: 6

Luck: 5+

Skills

* -5% efficiency due to Fatigue I

Camp (F-Rank Level 1)

Hunting (F-Rank Level 1)

Insight (F-Rank Level 5)

Intimidate (F-Rank Level 1)

Knowledge [Nature] (F-Rank Level 1)

Perception (F-Rank Level 4)

Simple Weapon Proficiency (F-Rank Level 1)

Simple Armor Proficiency (F-Rank Level 1)

Sneaking (B-Rank Level 4)

Survival (F-Rank Level 1)

Throwing Weapons (F-Rank Level 1)

Unarmed Fighting (F-Rank Level 3)

Active Abilities

Analysis (F-Rank Level 1)

Armorless Defense (F-Rank Level 2)

Battle Born (F-Rank Level 1)

Dark Vision (F-Rank Level 1)

Primal Rage (F-Rank Level 2)

Nature’s Resilience (F-Rank Level 1)

Sabotage (F-Rank Level 3)

Uncommon Consumption (F-Rank Level 1)

Passive Abilities

Feared Form

Outsider

Unfaltering

Wildling

Perks

Adventurous Tastes ( First Perk Bonus)

Aegis

Zeol’s Falling Star

Esper Nodes

Emerald: 4

Sapphire: 1

Huh. That was odd. My Luck, which had formerly been at negative two, was now at a positive five. It also had a little ‘plus’ symbol next to it. Did I get luckier? Well, that would be wonderful and explain how I survived the certifiably insane sequence of events that had just transpired. I’d literally been knocked off my feet by an explosion and surfed down a hill on a dickheaded bad guy. I was living my nine-year-old self’s cartoon dreams.

There was a flashing notification down near the bottom of the menu, telling me that I still needed to allocate my Points. That seemed like an absolute headache. I was planning to just toss them all into Constitution, but then paused, weighing my options.

I had six to spare, and most of my Attributes were still below the average threshold of ten. Two in particular—Strength and Dexterity—were at nine, so only one point away from making me break even. I selected them, adding one point to each, and then plugged the remaining four into Constitution with a grin. I’d considered putting something into Charisma, but ultimately decided that could be done later. It seemed like Constitution was going to be more important in keeping me alive for the next little bit, and I didn’t think even a small boost to Charisma would be enough to sweet talk my way out of danger. Another message appeared.

Are you satisfied with your selection?

Yes / No

I selected yes.

Pain suddenly erupted in my body. I shouted as overwhelming agony washed over me, leaving me unable to do anything but scream. It felt like my body and brain were suddenly under ice and on fire. A twisting fire. It burrowed into my bones and blood vessels with a stabbing burn. My arms wrenched around, and I saw the muscles and veins writhing beneath my flesh. My skull suddenly felt as though someone had jammed an icepick right in the center.

What is happening? Is this a stroke?!

I cried out again, and grasped onto the grass next to me, tearing blades of green from their stem in my frantic need to hold on to something, and when that wasn’t enough, I dug my fingers into the cold ground, scratching through pebbles and dirt. I couldn’t get a full breath because it felt like my lungs had bands of fire around them, and my screams faded from lack of air. I felt like I was going to die.

Is this magic? Am I being burned alive right now? Fuck! This is so painful!

Then, it stopped.

As if it had never happened, the pain released, and I couldn’t even recall the memory of the agony. I remembered its effects, but not the actual pain. Which was odd, because I had never felt anything that horrible in all my life. But now it was hard to grasp—had it really been that bad?

I looked down at my body, stunned, but realized a change had happened. My limbs looked stronger. They weren’t as doughy and atrophied as they’d been, I was certain of it. A little bit of solidity was visible now, as though I’d been dehydrated and had finally gotten myself a glass of sports drink. My mind felt more clear now, as if I had a much higher resonance of control over my movement and I flexed my fingers in front of my face. They didn’t feel as stodgy and uncoordinated as before.

That’s a plus. But what happened?

“Ah,” barked a voice. “Passed a Milestone, didja?”

Still lying on my back I was forced to crane my neck to the side to see the source of my interruption of personal appreciation.

Stinky.

He was standing now, wiping dust from himself, which I found hilarious considering he was still completely covered in a gross array of blood, piss, and shit. But my mirth faded as I realized how dangerous of a situation this was. I was hardly able to move, and he was upright with a gleaming dagger unhooked from his belt and dangling from his fingertips.

“Oh, hey, buddy,” I said. “Good to see you got your sea legs back.”

Stinky grimaced and it was a disgusting look, but I realized quite suddenly that he wasn’t in pain. He was attempting a fiendish smile.

Uh-oh.

Men like that only smiled for a couple of reasons, and I doubted it was because I resembled a nice rack of barbecued short ribs.

“Buddy?” He asked, stepping forward. “I don’t recall us being pals, now. I seem to actually recall being trussed and ridden down a hill squished underneath an orc. Doesn’t sound nice at all, if you ask me.”

I smiled sheepishly.

“That’s just how we make friends in orc culture,” I said, trying unsuccessfully to get up.

“Is that so?” Stinky asked, lifting the dagger and gripping it tightly in a meaty palm. “Can’t say I’m a fan of that custom.”

“Well, now you’re being xenophobic,” I said. “What’s a Milestone?”

Stinky chuckled.

“You ain’t very keen on the rules, eh? Well, I won’t be the one to mentor you.”

I didn’t have quick access to any weapons, but even if I had, the only thing I would be able to defend myself with was the rusty knife—and how would that help in this situation? It wasn’t as though I could even get up at the moment. It felt like I was fused to the ground, and no amount of shuffling back and forth would unstick me.

Then I saw the source of my issue. The bar in the bottom of my vision that indicated my Stamina. It was empty.

Fantastic. I’m going to fucking die on my back like my great uncle Albert. But without the prostitute on top of me.

I sighed, patting myself for anything I may have forgotten.

Oh.

I had forgotten something. Tucked in my pants, right next to my orc junk was the Potion of Excess Speed. If I recalled correctly, it would also restore Stamina. Exactly what I needed.

Hello, there, you beautifully bitchin’ bottle.

I rested my hand on the spot and tried to relax my stomach so I could slip my fingers in. That was when Stinky chose to attack.

He brought his blade up and charged forward, his face a mask of maniacal glee. I tried to tug the bottle out from where it was cinched beneath my belt but it was not willing to cooperate with my larger-than-I-was-used-to fingers. Stinky closed the gap, and was now ten feet away. I was out of moves.

“Fuck this,” I said, and slammed my fist down as hard as I could into the bottle. It shattered, piercing my leg and groin and I shrieked at the pain.

But, it had worked. The potion took effect and I watched as my Stamina bar began to refill rapidly. I rolled to the side just as Stinky crashed down with his blade.

That was too close for comfort! I’m going to need to buy a lottery ticket!

I was able to spring to my feet and began running back down the hill, but my tackle and leg were screaming at me, and I knew I had a bit of a limp. It didn’t matter, I’d just have to make due. I stomped through the thin tree coverage, seeing now that smoke filled the area.

Oh hell, the trees were still on fire!

I’d forgotten about that, too! Damn, maybe I shouldn’t buy a lottery ticket and invest in life insurance instead. I was too dumb to stay alive for much longer. Noxious fumes began choking me, and the dark clouds of smoke filled my vision and burned my eyes.

Better to run the risk of failure against Stinky than a one-hundred-percent certainty of choking and burning to death in the trees like a clueless asshole.

I turned around.

“Ooof!”

Stinky had practically flown through the air, dragon kicking me in the chest. I crashed backward in the dirt and everything disappeared around me as the world became a black cloud of heat. I crawled backward, my sternum sore from the force of Stinky’s booted blow, climbing farther into the flaming trees. I tried holding my breath, but when I sucked in air, an assload of smoke came with it and I began coughing.

What was worse was that the sound must’ve alerted Stinky to my direction, because he came barreling toward me—suddenly appearing out of the smoke and slicing at me. I could barely make him out, but his eyes were red rimmed with tears streaming down his cheeks. He must have been as susceptible to this as I was, and I wondered curiously why he didn’t just leave me to die in the wildfire.

I felt him kick me, and I rolled to the side as another boot crashed against the ground where I’d just been.

“You can’t hide, orc!” He yelled from beyond the smoke. “I’ll keep searching for you! I’ve got drakeling armor on—keeps me from burning! I’m going to make sure I fill you with holes before you fry!”

Of course he has something like that. All I had were my shitty Florida retiree costume and my…

I smiled.

I had the Trespasser’s Cloak. I was also quite a bit sneakier and faster than before--the latter for a few more seconds at least. It was time to test out what I could do, but I’d have to act before the timer buzzed on the potion.

I wrapped myself in the edges of the cloak like an orc burrito and tucked myself in a ball. I might asphyxiate, but at least it would save me from whatever he was planning to do.

I couldn’t breathe anymore, and my lungs were on fire. Tears were flowing freely from my eyes and I had a stinging wound in my crotch. All told, I was pretty sure I was half a second from death. Then I saw movement pass by me. It was hard to tell, because I was essentially blind, and apparently this didn’t count enough for Dark Vision to activate, but it appeared my brave fetal position had worked. Stinky moved right past me.

Then I got an idea. A stupid, stupid, zero IQ eureka moment.

I stood up, straining to see Stinky’s back in the smoke and reached into my bag, feeling for the other cloak, the one I’d received upon arrival. I yanked it out and stepped forward. Then, while still moving, removed the rusty pairing dagger. I pushed through the smoke quietly, slinking as well as I could despite the pain and lack of air before seeing the sway of Stinky’s form. His back was to me. He didn’t notice me. I moved quickly and carefully, hardly making a sound.

This is it.

I tossed the bedraggled cloak over him. He immediately made a swipe at me from beneath it, but I was ready for that. Using the last bit I had left from the potion, I stepped back, letting the dagger slice the air and then I launched forward, knife out. I stabbed right into the cloak and felt the blade stick into something soft. Then I threw my shoulder forward and tackled him to the ground. The force caused me to take an unconscious breath and I sucked in a lungful of smoke. Then we crashed to the ground.

But only for a moment.

The earth suddenly gave out beneath our weight with a loud crunch and the two of us fell into a long drop of darkness.