Orimo didn’t share the pale complexion of his fellow ghouls. Years of sunlight exposure at high altitude tanned him, making him an odd duck among other Children of the Mountain. His proud cheeks and beaked nose, along with his weathered skin, made him look older than he truly was. And without his hunters’ headdress, his below-average height became clear. He cut an odd contrast with the tall, bone-white Vanalath. If not for the wight’s tangle of hair and frayed clothing, the following scene might have looked like an elderly peasant lecturing some sheltered aristocrat.

The hunter hummed to himself.

Orimo sat on the ground, crossing both his legs and arms and closing his eyes, deep in thought.

supplied Vanalath.

he replied.

Or perhaps it was three? Vanalath had lost track of time after encountering that last ritual.

The hunter’s eyes flew open.

Vanalath nodded. Was that fast? Many other ghouls had done the same, evolving at least once (or, in Anamu’s case, twice). Orimo himself appeared to start off as a greater ghoul, though the trade-off in his case might have been losing his Brand.

Orimo finally said. He didn’t look upset, just thoughtful.

Orimo had said as much already. Vanalath would find his path again by honing the skills of his desired class. Swordsmanship, Poise, and Conceptualization were the skills related to [Duelist], and it was these he would work on.

Orimo said, scratching his head.

Hadn’t he claimed earlier that he was a ‘pretty good hand’ at this?

he said.

Interesting. So the Tier of his class dictated the level of his skills. Was it the same for his racial abilities? Did abilities influence his evolution? It seemed likely, but none of his abilities were level three, and despite that he had attained the “rare” race of wight. Perhaps evolutions operated under a different principle. He doubted that his innate abilities gave him a better shot at a rare race, since those abilities were shared by other ghouls as well.

He would worry about it later.

he said,

He turned to Anamu, drawing his sword.

The ghoul looked up from where he was digging up the ground half-heartedly and widened his eyes like a rat that had just spotted a fox.

Orimo interjected,

Vanalath shot him a look.

said Vanalath, turning his blade towards the hunter. He had been hoping this would happen—he wanted to fight the man again. Though it resulted in his evolution, their previous fight had been far too quick. Up until now, his greatest strides had been made in the field of battle.

Orimo held up his hands.

Vanalath blasted towards him, closing the gap between them in a heartbeat. But instead of shock in his partner’s face, he saw Orimo’s lips unexpectedly curve upwards. That was all the warning he got. In the next instant, a blur shot at him. Vanalath couldn’t change his momentum or move his sword up to block in time, so the knife thudded into his chest.

He barely felt it. Vanalath reached him with a sweep of his sword, but Orimo dropped as if the ground had fallen out from under him, passing under the blade with barely an inch to spare. He caught himself with his hands as if performing a push-up, then he shot backwards on all fours and disappeared into the tall grass. Vanalath darted after him, but the ghoul was nowhere to be seen. He lowered himself, peering all around, searching for the telltale swaying of grass. The wind was blowing, so he watched for sections that moved unnaturally, against the breeze.

But there weren’t any. Was his quarry staying still? Were that the case, he couldn’t have gone too far. Vanalath began to scan the ground, scouring every foot of earth, but Orimo was nowhere to be found. Just as he was beginning to think it odd that his sense of smell hadn’t picked up the hunter yet, Vanalath realized the trick. Orimo had maneuvered downwind of him. This realization made him freeze for a fraction of a second. Downwind was behind him.

Vanalath threw himself to the ground, but not before a second knife embedded itself in his back.

[Ability increased]: (Lv.1) -> (Lv.2)

He growled in frustration, rising to his feet and whirling around, expecting to see nothing but an empty field. His expectations were betrayed once again. Orimo, bent low, was dashing towards him, weaving through the grass like a snake. Vanalath raised his sword just in time to deflect the third throwing knife. The metals collided, a high note singing out, and the smaller blade windmilled off into the distance. He brought his weapon down only for Orimo to meet it with a dagger, deflecting the force of Vanalath’s strike to the side. After parrying, Orimo slipped in close and drove the dagger up a second time. But Vanalath was faster. He saw the blow coming and dodged, pivoting around and bringing his sword down a second time. He was no longer wielding the blade in both hands however, and with his free hand he reached for the hunter’s overextended wrist.

Orimo’s eyes widened, and he was forced to put more force into his forward momentum to avoid Vanalath’s second strike. However, this resulted in his wrist getting caught. Vanalath now controlled his opponent’s weapon hand, but the wight still had to be careful of more throwing knives from his second hand. This time, when he brought his sword back up, Vanalath led with his pommel. He wasn’t going to kill the hunter a second time, but he wanted to give him at least one solid hit—

Orimo dropped his dagger, catching it with his other hand, driving it up towards Vanalath’s restraining arm. He was forced to let the hunter go and jump back, but Orimo was ready for the move, already pushing in at Vanalath before he knew what he was going to do. He continued to backpedal, avoiding the swift jabs.

Thanks to Orimo’s cunning assault, he wasn’t able to regain his momentum. His adversary was too close, and with his dagger, he was far quicker to land strikes than Vanalath was with his larger sword. It was a testament to his high agility that he was able to keep dodging, though only barely.

This state of affairs could only go on for so long. Eventually, Orimo stepped in, striking at Vanalath’s side, but when he dodged, found that Orimo’s foot had hooked behind his own. As the hunter tripped him, Vanalath flung his sword behind him intentionally, with the intention of hitting the ground rolling and picking it back up again, but Orimo fell upon him, pinning his arms under his knees. By the time he came to his senses, a dagger was at his throat.

He grinned.

Vanalath heaved, shoving off the hunter and picking up his sword.

Vanalath violently sheathed his sword, growling. He felt the red mist rising, and he struggled to push it away.

he replied after regaining a modicum of control.

Laughing, Orimo pointed at the knife hilts sticking out of Vanalath.

He had dodged the hunter’s attacks before, back at the Standing Stone.

Orimo approached Vanalath, holding out his hand. But it wasn’t to help him up, as he was already on his feet. Then, why…? Ah. Vanalath pulled out the knife in his chest and handed it to its owner. Then, because he couldn’t reach the knife in his back, he let Orimo tug it free. He watched as black ichor slowly began to seep from the wound on his chest. It didn’t spray everywhere like living blood might have, but its progress was steady.

said the hunter.

Vanalath motioned Kalaki over, giving him instructions, and his Peon went off to fetch some cloth. It would probably come off some other ghoul’s back, but that wasn’t his concern.

said Orimo after the spearman left.

Vanalath was already replaying the duel in his head. He had been both stronger and faster than Orimo and with better reach at that, but it hadn’t mattered. The hunter had toyed with him. Had they been fighting in an area where Orimo couldn’t hide, he should have won, but that was just the whining of a loser. There were very few arenas with no obstacles.

After a long pause, Vanalath finally replied.

Orimo looked up, blinking a few times, as if he hadn’t considered that.

scoffed the hunter.

Vanalath took a moment to observe the boastful ghoul. He gave off a different impression than he expected, and Vanalath was surprised to find his anger slipping through the cracks as he continued to speak with this man. Orimo seemed far more easygoing in death than in life—not that Vanalath had known him then.

said Orimo, dragging himself away from speaking about himself.

Vanalath, though he rankled at being called a ‘rookie,’ was brought back down to earth by Orimo’s question. He began to realize that he might just be an idiot. Since his evolution, he had been able to read his status, but with the rapid motion of events, he had forgotten to inspect anything beyond his titles. He didn’t know what most of his skills even did.

The hunter nodded.

And Vanalath knew it would, though the man served her in all other things. Their pact would see that his secrets were kept safe.

- - -

(Lv.1)

You have become able to infuse your voice with miasma, allowing you to intimidate any being that can hear you. This ability allows you to impose your will on weaker miasmic creatures.

(Lv.2)

You have learned to sense miasma, the energy of death. Each level increases the clarity with which you can sense this energy.

(Lv.2)

You have taken on so much damage that your body has begun to adapt to the abuse. Your skin has become more resilient to cutting and piercing blows. There is a smaller effect against other types of damage.

(Lv.6)

By struggling onward despite facing extreme fear, you have increased your mental fortitude. Terror is less likely to adversely affect your decision making.

(Lv.2)

Your capacity to wield a sword has been recognized.

(Lv.1)

You have an increased awareness of the placement of your feet and the position of your body in space.

(Lv.2)

Your grasp on your surroundings has reached new levels. You are able to picture an area after seeing it for only a short time. You can derive knowledge of things around you from less information than before.

(Lv.0)

You have become adept at imposing your will on others. Your aura is one that commands respect and fear. Those that have submitted to you obey your orders more fervently. Those with weak wills bend before you like reeds before the storm.

- - -

At some point during his explanation, Kalaki had returned, and Orimo began cutting the shirt he brought with him into strips with a knife. As he bound Vanalath’s chest, he nodded along to the descriptions of his skills and abilities. Vanalath thought that some of the information was lacking in places, but the hunter didn’t share that view. Perhaps that meant this was normal.

he said when Vanalath was finished.

Vanalath thought. For a warrior? In battle, coordination and footwork was as important as his control of the blade. Dominate had the most impressive description, but Vanalath didn’t think it was nearly as useful in battle. That left…

said Orimo.

Vanalath studied the description of the skill in question.

Orimo scratched his chin.

Vanalath did as he was asked without hesitating. He listened for Orimo, wondering what the hunter was up to. A slight rustling to his left had him shifting his weight to his right foot as he rotated around. Then, something came whipping through the grass, and he raised his arm defensively. Something bounced off his wrist, and he opened his eyes to find a small stone falling to the ground. It hadn’t been thrown very hard. Orimo must have made the noises on purpose, or he never would have heard a thing.

asked Vanalath.

Orimo was standing off to the side with an armful of rocks. He dropped them when he saw Vanalath’s look. The wight folded his arms, realizing the point of Orimo’s demonstration.

said Orimo.

After Orimo’s explanation, Vanalath began to recall a few things. It had been after the fight with Iokina that he first realized a sort of improved awareness. Several times, he had pictured his surroundings clearly even after closing his eyes, and by meditating he had even been able to train in his head, improving other skills, such as Poise and Miasmic Sight.

Orimo’s Intuition operated on the idea of instinct, or unconscious information gathering. Vanalath’s Conceptualization was the opposite: it thrived on conscious thought. Funnily, they achieved similar things.

The true value of the hunter’s advice was being made clear. These abilities felt like such a natural part of himself that it took Orimo’s intervention to point out the effects they had on him. A grin began to form on Vanalath’s face. Even if the two of them didn’t spar, having a perceptive man like Orimo point out things like this—things that should have been obvious—was greatly helpful. Conceptualization would be vital in his training from here on out.

There was so much to learn. Ranking up mindlessly… he was more glad than ever that he hadn’t impulsively chosen a class the day before. There were many paths of progression available to him, even without increasing his level. He needed to think carefully how he would proceed from here on out.