It was a rat.

With its razor-sharp teeth, claws that looked like they were stolen from a butcher’s shop, two horn-like protrusions above the ear on either side, and bright crimson eyes that glowed malevolently in the dim light of the dungeon, the dusty, overgrown, roughly two-feet-tall creature gave off a ghoulish appearance.

But it was a rat nonetheless.

In short, it fit perfectly into the category of monsters Lukas was fond of— best when cooked well.

Unfortunately for him, there were six of them. And quite possibly more lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.

ANALYZE (Level 1)

Cinderface: Quadruped creature with sharp, metallic claws. The claws and fangs have poison. Expert diggers.

As if in acknowledgement, the creature closest to him unhinged its jaw, revealing two pairs of large shiny fangs that glinted in the darkness.

“My, what big teeth you have, grandmother,” Lukas chuckled, pumping lifeforce into his right hand and clenching the azolg-tail tightly in his left.

The pest army squeaked and lunged at him in return.

Lukas felt his heart throb violently in his ears as he crouched, dodging an aerial attack as one of the rats— cinderfaces— soared over his head. His right arm moved up, his palm straightened and layered with lifeforce. It severed through the rat’s belly, spurting out precious blood.

It was the first to die.

“Slash, not stab,” Inanna advised him.

Kicking the closest monster with a wide sweep of his right leg, he spun around, the tail-whip sailing through the air and nearly hitting a third rat. The creature spun out of reach, hissed at him, then lunged again—

—Only to meet a full-powered Burst to its face, blasting apart its skull.

Lukas took a moment to re-orient himself, his vision steadying as he warily regarded the remaining assailants. There were two on the left and two more in front him, but they were all roughly telegraphing their movements.

Lukas inhaled.

Lifeforce flooded through his body, more specifically to his lungs. A very simple, yet no less significant, change.

And the results were instantaneous.

As increased amounts of oxygen rushed to all his organs, most importantly his brain, he could feel his senses immediately sharpen and his vitality skyrocket.

The two rats from the left leapt on their own accord, acting like individuals instead of two separate units of a pack.

The first was slapped away by his azolg-tail.

The second, however, was far more agile. It leapt onto the tail fragment, altering its swing direction and then lunged for his face, claws extended and ready to rend. Lukas widened his eyes at the sudden proximity and instinctively sidestepped, dodging the attack by inches.

The cinderface snarled in mid-air, landing on the stoned walls and leaping back towards him as it attempted a second attack.

A thin layer of burst diagonally pierced its face.

It was dead before it hit the floor.

Four down. Two to go.

“None to go, actually,” Inanna corrected. “The rest are fleeing.”

She was right. The remaining monsters— including the plethora hidden in the shadows —had turned tail and began scurrying out of sight, quite possibly because one of the slain creatures had been the leader of their group. At the very least, animal behavior was somewhat similar to what he was familiar with, even in this strange new world.

Overthrow the leader, and the flunkies would flee.

Come to think of it, some humans behaved like that, too.

“So…” he panted, “did it work?”

“Better than the last few times. You need to keep doing it until your body assimilates the process as a protocol.”

“And then?”

“You unlock the skill. Attempt, etch, and replicate.”

“Cha-ching!” Lukas exclaimed, excited by the prospect. He wasn’t sure exactly how long this was going to take, but he could feel it nearing. His constant exertion with pumping lifeforce into his lungs— increasing his breathing capacity and efficiency —was his way of moving to the second stage of Internal Lifeforce Manipulation, a feat that would open doors to countless future opportunities, according to Inanna.

Like augmenting existing processes in organs.

Or increasing the efficiency of body tissues.

Or, even better, creating cascading effects with multiple organs to generate new skills.

The possibilities with lifeforce were endless.

But to do so, he’d need to activate the skill by using lifeforce to enhance a bodily function. And what better to start with than the most simple, basic of them all— breathing.

Lifeforce was an energy of creation. Augmenting his breathing increased the air capacity of his lungs. More air meant more oxygen. And more oxygen meant enhanced brain function and overall life processes. It was as close as he could get to providing his body with an extra stimulant without actually providing anything.

And as he’d done it over and over, his gut instinct told him that the skill was just around the corner, almost within reach. Just a little bit more, and he’d—

The screen folded open.

Skill Level Up!

Skill

Soul Capacity Consumed

Internal Lifeforce Manipulation [Level 2]

22

“Congratulations, mortal,” Inanna snorted. “You’re a prophet.”

“Hilarious,” Lukas deadpanned, focusing on the screen. “Show skills.”

A new window opened up this time.

SKILL

LEVEL

SOUL CAPACITY CONSUMED

Internal Lifeforce Manipulation

Level 2

22

Burst

Level 1

6

“Interesting,” he thought aloud. “So it doesn’t just show up as a new skill. That’s… good. This upgrade won’t affect my familiarity with Level 1 manipulation, will it?”

“Do you forget how to walk after learning to run?”

“Point taken.”

...

“Y’know,” Lukas began a little awkwardly, “a part of me expected it to manifest as a skill. Like Breathing Level 1 or something.”

Inanna laughed at that.

“Hey!” he scowled.

“You are using lifeforce to conduct a normal body process, mortal. There is nothing about such an act that warrants a skill.”

“But I used it to increase how much air enters my lungs,” Lukas retorted.

“A result just as easily obtained by breathing more deeply. Once again, it is nothing that warrants a skill.”

He scowled again, but said nothing.

“Back in my time, there existed a great sage in the subastra known as Kailasa who could inhale the natural energy of the world and convert it into raw, blazing lifeforce.”

“But that would make it limitless,” Lukas gasped.

“Indeed. Such was his prowess in the art of war, that he rose to divinity as the God of Destruction. Funny, since his skill as a warrior was the least of his accomplishments.”

“All that, just by breathing…” he whispered. Frankly, the more he learned about the world, the worse he sometimes felt. Seeing Inanna obliterate the khorkhoi had given him a rough ceiling to measure his growth against. But when she later admitted that she was but a shadow of her true self, he had no idea what to expect from this place.

This was a world of titans.

And in here, he was tantamount to an insect. Hell, given how monstrous the true Powers were, he might as well considered himself a bacteria.

“It is good to possess fear, mortal. Fear means you understand the stakes at hand. It means you are not underestimating your enemies. That alone increases your chances for survival.”

Lukas felt an urge to throw up.

“We digress. Now that you have opened the window to organ manipulation, it is time to start study and practice. Unless,” an impish smile appeared in his mind, “you think you’re ready to attempt brain manipulation right now.”

"I'll pass," Lukas waved off, internally shuddering. One single experience of nearly tearing his psyche to shreds had been enough. Death by attempting to alter his neurons wasn't something he was looking forward to. Even experimentation had its limits.

"So…” he trailed, feeling the first vestiges of fatigue beginning to hit him. “When do I start?"

Her voice dripped with amusement. "Now."

He groaned.

This place is weird.

Walking through the dimly lit passageway with an enthralled soldier in tow was an odd experience. For one, the place looked completely outdated and desolate, like it was part of a ruined ramshackle that had been deserted over two centuries ago and still standing only because of its firm foundation. On the other hand, the handcuffs Olfric had on his wrists kept him from summoning his kami— a technology that he knew was in the works, as far as the main Asukan kingdom was concerned.

The dichotomy between the two observations was frankly staggering. The fact that he was being led by an enthralled Cyffnarian soldier didn’t help matters.

Olfric made his way through an unbroken bush, nearly tripping as he walked. And with every step he took, he became more and more sensitive to a certain dissonance in the ambient energies of this place.

It was repulsive.

Rather, it was repelling him. It didn’t want him there. It didn’t treat him as prey to be killed, but as a trespasser— one who had no right to walk these paths. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought he was entering the palace of some demigod.

Just what the hell kind of place was he being led to?

He nearly tripped again as he stubbed his toe against a rock. Cursing profusely, he crouched down and inspected his injury.

“Get me some light, you heathen!” he ordered.

He may have been a prisoner, but he was still an Asukan noble. And nobles had to be obliged by those of a lesser kind.

It was only fair.

The Cyffnarian soldier lit a lantern of all things and brought it close. In the luminescence of the burning fire, he could see reddish stains covering his toes.

This is such a pain in the ass.

Exhaling, he tried pushing himself up, but standing up while his hands were tied behind his back was harder than he anticipated. Instead, he lost his balance and fell down onto his bottom.

“Damn it! Damn it! Dam—”

And Olfric froze.

Because the floor wasn’t filled with just rocks.

It was paved with seals.

They were well cut-out rock fragments placed within walls with spell-sigils engraved upon them, drawing on the ambient energy of the place to perform some specific task or action. Back home, his own mansion had several hundred seals engraved all over the place, carefully stacked in three dimensions to create a barrier that kept malicious energies from permeating his home.

Of all people, he’d know. The study of sealing was a prerequisite to being raised as a noble in the Asukan Empire.

But this? This was no barrier.

This was… It was…

His mind arrived at a blank.

“I…” he trailed off. “What the hell are these things?”

Seals, like every other branch of mana-based spellcasting, were a way to make the world perform a task in a pre-defined fashion. You could approach the practice from many different angles, applying different theories and schools of thought and mental models to it. Like mathematics, you could get to the same result by taking multiple lines as a start and reasoning your way through it— no truly right or wrong approach, just different.

And yet, mana wasn’t something that just made things happen out of nowhere. There were rules. And fairly rigid ones at that, which one always needed to follow. There were limits that needed to be maintained, structures that couldn’t be twisted further.

But the seal in front of him? It took those rules, those limits, those structures…

And it threw them out of the proverbial window.

“Heathen!” he whispered, “Heathen! Come have a look! Do you recognize this?”

“Uh…” the soldier replied. “No. But the Leader might.”

This damn Leader… Olfric cursed. To hell with the anomaly and these degenerates. If he could just gather a couple of these seals and return home alive, it would mean a breakthrough for his family’s research. The more he looked at them, the more absurd they seemed.

Because while seals normally fed upon mana to do something, these bizarre ones emitted mana.

How? He had no clue. His education on the subject pointed out that such a thing was impossible, but apparently his captors had little regard for the rules of the world.

He looked around. At the walls. At the floor.

One thing was for certain— whatever this place was, it predated the Asukan regime. It was older than King Asuka’s dominion, and possibly older than the goddess Amaterasu’s ascension.

For the first time in his life, Olfric Bergott felt a strange emotion welling up inside of him.

Humility.