Mantra of Rigor of the Fourth:

Life without struggle is static. Only through conflict and battle can we be tempered. The fires of our struggles will allow us to be remade.

Faul’Dir flicks his blade at incredible speed, blood shooting off and coating the ground in a tight splatter. His sword has a unique appearance, designed for an individual with exceptionally high Strength and Dexterity. The bone handle, wrapped in the water resistant skin of a slave, is two and a half feet long while the blade itself is 5 feet long, widening from the base and finally tapering off in a hook at the end. The metal is a dark gray and seems to radiate an aura of fear and hopelessness. Coincidentally, the now dead inhabitants of the bar would have felt that regardless of whether or not Faul used the sword, as the aura was a manifestation of his bloodlust. No other member of the Qual’Fan had been able to obtain the Skill and the Primus turned a blind eye to the massacres as long as Faul continued to prove himself useful.

Sheathing the sword on a strap attached to his back, he steps over the body of the owner and takes a random bottle from behind the bar. A few hours of bloodlust and destruction always made him thirsty.

Exiting the bar, Faul ignores the stares that the copious blood on his armor attracts. He reaches into his spatial bag and pulls out his watch.

“AAhhhh fuck!”, he screams, violently kicking the door behind him. The door flies off its hinges and crashes inside the bar, exposing the bloodshed inside. Slaves, trying to hold back their nausea and the need to puke, continue walking as if nothing is happening. In a city where any person who wasn’t Qual’Fan was a slave, they knew that any reaction or admonishment of Faul would lead to an immediate and violent death.

Their hopes are rewarded as he begins to sprint down the street towards the Portal Center, swearing and screaming as he runs. Stories will be told around the fires tonight about the crazed man running through the street, muttering about a king, some sort of time dilation, and an unknown oath.

I sit on my branch with my eyes closed and my hands resting on my knees, breaths filling and emptying my lungs in a steady rhythm. In my mind I focus intently on my image of frost and ice. The stillness of a completely frozen lake. Black ice hiding in plain sight, stealing balance from its prey. The carefree nature of snow falling. The unstoppable force of a mountain avalanche. These and a hundred other images crystallize in my mind, merging together and personifying a force of nature. With focused will, I direct the Raw Mana away from my Well and up into my hand while maintaining the image. As soon as I feel the Mana leave the confines of my body and enter the world I open my eyes. My hand is coated in frost and ice, filling me with a physical feeling of unnatural cold.

You have discovered the Skill Ice Mana Lvl 1. By creating an image that embodies the essence and nature of ice, you have managed the transformation to Ice. The stilling of life’s growth, the rigid and brittle killer that cannot be stopped, beware the sign of winter, Ice. Increased skill level allows for greater manipulation.

Mana Manipulation has reached Lvl 20, 21 … 24.

Finally! It’s been about two weeks since I obtained Fire Mana and the entirety of the time has been spent focusing on my Mana Manipulation and building the image of Ice. I point my hand away from me, towards the target tree missing leaves from the multiple different spells it’s been subjected to, and will the frost forward, feeling pure elation as a slow and small stream of ice is expelled from my hand.

I climb down my tree and look around at the place that has been my home for the past two months. While I’m not entirely convinced that the man will keep his word to come back, all anger I felt towards him has dissipated. Without his gifts I would have died in the first few days. Those packs of jerky, possibly the only pleasant tasting thing I’ve eaten since I got to Helldarvin, bought me time to learn Foraging. The canteen is the only thing stopping me from having to walk to the small river every time I want a drink of water and the blanket allowed me to build traps and disguise myself. Most importantly, the book. Without that I would have absolutely no way to kill the Hunters that populate this region.

If I’m honest with myself though, the knife was pretty useless. The damn thing was barely sharp enough to cut into the beasts and I’m pretty sure I’ve blunted it by using it to get their meat. All I do is stab them until chunks of meat become loose enough for me to take for the fire.

A familiar growl cuts into my thoughts and I drop low to the ground, eyes picking out a Helldarvin Hunter [Lvl 22] at the edge of the outer ring. It stares right back at me. Shit. Usually I’m able to hide before they get sight of me but this one has me in its sights. The most inconvenient part is that it’s the same distance away from the center tree that I am. In a race between myself and a Hunter I’d put all my money on the opponent, hands down and no doubt in the outcome. To make matters worse, I also left my disguise lying against the tree in a pile so trying to retreat into the forest is not an option.

That only leaves one option: Kill the Hunter before it can kill me. I’ve never challenged one of them in the open before, always trapping or ambushing them before they even realize that I’m there.

I feel a wide grin plaster itself on my face and a feeling of nervous excitement fill my body. I’d been putting it off to try and buy myself more time to develop my skills but I’d secretly wanted to fight one of them out in the open. These past two months living in the wilderness has awoken a primal instinct in me and it will only be satisfied by challenging this beast and coming out as the victor.

Staring at the Hunter, I slowly bring my hands up and point them in its direction. It sinks down to its haunches, recognizing something in my gesture that has the potential to do some harm. Before it has the chance to jump away and ruin my shot, I instantly conjure up two Mana Bullets and fire them one after another.

I watch as it manages to dodge out of the way of the first, jumping right into the path of the second. The Bullet pierces deep into the beast and releases the Mana but it remains standing and looks at me and screams with rage. Bounding through the outer ring of the trees, it barrels toward me. I manage to get fire another bullet, taking a chunk out of front leg but missing his vitals, before it’s just a few feet in front of me.

The Hunter condenses onto the ground and leaps at me, the deep purple of its coarse fur and large white fangs filling my vision. While this would normally fill any prey with debilitating fear, I still have enough health to be safely within my Meditative state. Activating Mana Infusion for a quick second the instant it’s off the ground, I leap to the side and land with a quick roll. Pain wracks my body but I’m able to keep my focus and remain in Meditation. Thank god I practiced that.

Bringing another two Mana Bullets to bear, I fire them at the landing spot of the Hunter and watch in glee as they both hit. The first hits the meaty part of its back thigh and rips chunks of muscle and blood away from the creature. The second hits the beast in the center of its body and penetrates deep into the muscles, the subsequent explosion causing it to spasm. Instead of collapsing in a heap of torn muscle and rage, the Hunter turns toward me and begins to lope towards me, albeit at a much slower pace than before.

A quick check of my Well reminds me that I have a little under half my Mana left, enough for 3 or 4 more casts. I stare the creature in the eyes as it stumbles toward me, the sheer hatred it has for me palpable in a single glance. The amount of intelligence in the eyes makes me pause, making me hold off on firing another shot. After reaching about half of the distance towards me, the Hunter breaks into a bigger grin and speeds up, not at the terrifying speed it displayed earlier but much faster than it was before. The glint of intelligence had given me suspicions that the beast wasn’t as injured as it was displaying. It had been waiting for me to waste my Mana on an easy target and was now convinced I was running on empty.

I smile back at it with a grin and raise my hand, conjuring up a Mana Bullet and firing. The Hunter is moving too fast to properly dodge and the Bullet rips right through its skull, exploding and causing the Hunter to collapse in a heap of muscle just a few feet away from me.

Exhausted and elated, I fall onto my back and let out a primal roar. Eat that Helldarvin! Even in one on one combat I’m able to take out your little hate filled killing machines! I let the notifications wash over.

You have killed Helldarvin Hunter [Lvl 22]. Experience Gained: 19,000

You have reached Lvl 19! Attribute Points Available = 1

Mana Bullet (R-3) has reached Lvl 25! Your mind is the gun, your Mana the bullets, and your enemies the target. Let all those who oppose you quake in the face of Humanity’s weapon. Piercing power increased. Speed increased.

Meditation has reached Lvl 34, 35, 36!

Mana Infusion has reached Lvl 5, 6 … 8!

After a few moments of rest, I decide that I’ve had enough time and I slowly get to my feet. I need to throw the Hunter into the pile, get something to eat, and then start focusing on my other Skills.

My plans are immediately interrupted by the enormous eruptions from the edge of the trees. I drop down into a defensive position and scan around, relaxing my body slightly and raising my eyebrows as I realize what the noise is.

Walking out of the trees comes the man, clapping his hands and causing a small boom each time they meet. His leather armor is coated in a bright red blood, obviously fresh, and he smiles, exposing his filed teeth and exuding a dangerous aura.

“Well boy it looks like you certainly made it worth my time”