Standing amidst the corpses of his enemy, Zeke inspected his status page, his grin widening as he stared at the numerical evidence of his progress.

Name

Ezekiel Blackwood

Class

n/a

Level

5

Race

Human (G)

Alignment

Isphodel

Achievements

First Blood, Hasty Evolution

Strength

49

Agility

50

Dexterity

54

Endurance

53

Vitality

51

Intelligence

43

Wisdom

41

Unassigned Attribute Points

0

He had allocated his stat points mid-battle so he could enjoy the rush of vitality that came with it, focusing on agility and dexterity. The way he figured it, he currently had plenty of strength, evidenced by the fact that when his club hit a troll, it practically ripped the flesh from their bones. Besides, he knew he was pushing the limits of what his club could take; already, it was starting to crack, and he knew that if he pushed it any further, it ran the risk of shattering entirely. In any case, damage output did not seem to be an issue, so he’d skipped over enhancing that. The same could be said for his endurance and vitality, which were more than sufficient to survive whatever the cave system threw at him. Instead, he’d decided to spend his points on agility and dexterity, thinking that one could never be too quick or have too much coordination.

Zeke quickly went past his status menu to the next message that had come with reaching level five.

Congratulations! You have reached Level Five. A New Skill is now available. Please note that after level five, the road grows much more dangerous, and you will no longer receive healing boosts upon leveling.

Much more dangerous? Zeke could barely remember how many times he’d brushed against death, so it was difficult to imagine a more perilous road. However, he had little choice but to accept the new limitations even though he’d come to rely on the surges of vitality that had come with reaching a new level. He could only accept it, adapt, and move on. Besides, it was difficult to be too upset when there was a new skill dangling in front of him. To his surprise, though, there were five choices.

[Troll’s Blood] (H) – You have been bathed in troll’s blood, which gives you the ability to temporarily increase your rate of regeneration. Only works out of combat. The skill’s power is based on vitality. Upgradable.

Upon reading the description, Zeke almost chose the skill without any further deliberation. It seemed especially beneficial, considering that he’d just lost the vitality boost he’d so far enjoyed when gaining a level. In fact, it seemed almost overpowered when he read the final addendum, that its power would be based on his overwhelming vitality. However, despite his certainty that he’d pick [Troll’s Blood], he went on to read the next one.

[Pestilence] (H) – You have proven a willing murderer. Walk the path of the assassin as you explore the effects of poison. This skill allows you to poison your enemies with a touch, ensuring their eventual death. Skill’s damage decreases based on enemy’s vitality. Upgradable.

“Okay, so…no,” he muttered under his breath. For one, he was supremely uncomfortable that The Framework considered him to be walking the path of the assassin. Certainly, he’d murdered nearly eighty trolls in cold blood, but that was necessary, wasn’t it? If he wanted to escape the Caracoa caves, he had to go through the village, didn’t he?

But then again, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that wasn’t necessarily true. He’d crept through the village undetected as he killed dozens of trolls. It wasn’t out of the question that he could’ve simply crossed to the exit on the other side of the cavern. The thought had never even crossed his mind, though. Death had become a way of life for him, so it wasn’t all that surprising that the Framework had looked at his actions and assumed that he was a cold-blooded murderer. Because he kind of was.

Sure, there were plenty of reasons he’d done it the way he had. But the bottom line was that he had never even considered an alternate path. Still – he wouldn’t formalize the fact that he was a budding murderer by picking [Pestilence] as one of his skills. So, he moved on to the next one.

[Heart of the Berserker] (H) – You have the heart of a berserker, demolishing all in your path. Your rage gives you the ability to temporarily boost your physical statistics by a large amount. This increase comes with negative consequences, so be wary. Upgradable.

This one sounded extremely useful. Assuming that it was a percentage-based increase, the skill could allow him to effectively punch above his weight. His stats already seemed far better than even higher-leveled trolls, so the idea of becoming even more powerful – even if it was temporary – might prove the difference between winning and losing a fight against superior opponents. The only issue was the “negative consequences” the skill’s description mentioned. Without knowing precisely what that meant, he wasn’t certain he could choose it.

[Warrior’s Instinct] (H) – You have defeated many superior foes, cementing your status as a promising warrior. This skill cements your path by formalizing the instincts you’ve begun to cultivate. Upgradable.

Zeke was even less sure about this one than he’d been about [Heart of the Berserker]. On the one hand, anything that promised to passively improve his battle prowess was attractive, but he couldn’t help but want something a little flashier. So far, his instincts hadn’t been a problem, so it was difficult to invest one of his limited skill choices in something he felt he could do himself, given enough time. He’d only been fighting for a couple of months, now, and he’d already begun to feel his enemies’ blows before they came. What would it feel like in a year? Or two? In a lifetime? While the skill might be useful, Zeke couldn’t bring himself to pick it.

[Poison Cloud] (H) – You have taken your first steps down the path of the assassin. This skill furthers that pursuit by summoning a cloud of poison, impeding the effects of vitality in strong enemies and killing weaker foes outright. This skill’s power is based on your intelligence. Upgradable.

“Okay, so what the hell?” he growled, wondering why The Framework seemed to be pushing him down the road to becoming an assassin. He’d only killed a few trolls. It wasn’t like he’d murdered a head of state or something. Immediately, he pushed that ability to the side as well; there was just something inherently distasteful about fighting with poisons, and he wanted no part of it. Even if it did sound extremely useful.

So, it was down to [Heart of the Berserker] or [Troll’s Blood]. His survival instincts told him that a temporary boost to his regeneration was the right choice. However, he wasn’t so naïve that he didn’t expect there to be much stronger enemies within the caves. He’d already been pushed to his absolute limit on more than one occasion, so it stood to reason that he would need to grow much, much stronger. [Heart of the Berserker] would help with that.

And it was usable in combat, which was a claim [Troll’s Blood] couldn’t make. Zeke had a feeling that he would have to be in the middle of a fight for [Troll’s Blood] to make a real difference in his survivability, which given its description, wasn’t even possible. After all, he’d already had his stomach ripped open, and he’d survived that. With his already-high vitality, he suspected that it would need to be a truly grievous injury to put him down for the count.

With all that in mind, it seemed that his decision made itself. So, despite his earlier certainty that he would choose the regeneration ability, he selected [Heart of the Berserker] instead. As soon as he confirmed his choice, he felt a rune brand itself into his pathways just below his left shoulder blade.

As much as Zeke wanted to play with his new ability, he reminded himself that he was standing in the center of the village he’d decimated. So, he quickly set about gathering as much wood as he could carry. Using his ridiculous strength along with the machete-like knife he’d taken from the troll, he soon had an armful of wood. Without a backward glance, Zeke picked his way through the troll corpses and into the tunnel on the far side of the cavern.

For a few hours, he trekked silently through the tunnels, letting his senses lead the way. When he came to a crossroads, he simply took the path where the air smelled a little less stale, hoping that it would lead to the cave exit. It had worked so far, and he’d steadily climbed toward the surface. However, he had no idea if it was because he’d chosen the right paths or if all of the tunnels led to the same place.

Eventually, Zeke found his way to another cavern, though this one was far smaller and completely unpopulated, save for the ubiquitous mushrooms that had dominated his since awakening in the cave system. In addition, there was a small stream of clear water winding through the center of the cavern. Thinking that he’d found a likely spot to make camp, he set about making a fire. Even with the firestarter, it was at first incredibly difficult; the timber didn’t want to catch fire, regardless of how much mana he injected into the small, inscribed stone.

Zeke had never really been much of an outdoorsman. Instead, his entire life had been dominated by baseball – a fact with which he’d never really found fault. But now, he found himself envying his old friends who’d spent plenty of time hunting, camping, and fishing with their own fathers. Not that his father ever showed any interest in that kind of thing, of course. Instead, he’d always been the kind of obsessed sports fanatic who spent much of his time cursing at the television because his chosen team didn’t perform up to his expectations. Often, Zeke would wonder why the man watched so religiously when all it did was piss him off.

He pushed thoughts of his father out of his mind. The last thing he wanted to think about was that man. However, being alone for long stretches of time, often without any real distractions lent itself to introspection. Usually, that meant that Zeke thought about how his father had influenced him, whether he liked it or not. It was infuriating to think that Zeke wouldn’t have gotten where he was without a man he unabashedly hated.

Finally, even as he dwelt on how his father had abandoned him the moment his injury had ended his baseball career, Zeke figured out why the fire wasn’t starting. It happened by accident when one of the sparks splashed onto some nearby moss, flaring up with a short-lived flame. He only needed tinder to get the fire started. So, with renewed vigor, Zeke gathered as much of the moss as he could find and only a few minutes later, he had the beginnings of a fire.

For a long time, Zeke just sat there tending the fire as he basked in the warmth he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing. Finally, after a while, he decided to test out his new ability. Slowly, he opened his core and guided a trickle of mana through his pathways and to the rune embedded in his shoulder. It lit up, drinking the mana until it glowed in his spiritual senses. With a mental command, he activated the rune, and, an instant later, he gasped as his heartrate doubled and he felt a sharp influx of power.

He didn’t just feel stronger. Or more coordinated. Or even quicker. It was more than a simple increase in stats, though it was that, too. Instead, the full effect of the skill was more than the sum of its parts. The closest thing Zeke could compare it to was when he’d first evolved his race. Not only was he stronger, but his senses had grown sharper as well. Finally, it was like his entire body had been flooded with adrenaline, and he found himself twitching with the need to act. The longer he sat still, the more uncomfortable it became.

Pushing his discomfort aside, Zeke inspected his status screen, finding that his strength, agility, and dexterity had been increased by approximately twenty-five percent. It was a huge increase that would only get stronger as he improved his statistics. However, he couldn’t ignore the demerits associated with the skill, either. His endurance had taken roughly a five percent hit. That wasn’t too bad, though. He had plenty to spare, and…

Ten percent, now. About thirty seconds later, the decrease jumped to twenty percent. Then forty. Eighty. Just before he felt like it would increase again, Zeke let go of the skill. The sudden decrease in power left him feeling weak and vulnerable. And most distressing of all, his endurance remained incredibly low. He was on the verge of panic until, almost a minute after he’d deactivated the skill, it started its slow climb back to normal. Each step took almost a minute – roughly twice as long as it had decreased – but after a few minutes, he was back to his normal endurance.

Negative consequences, indeed.

However, as impactful as the lack of endurance was, Zeke was confident that he could mitigate some of the effect with the combination of his high vitality and [Leech Strike]. And besides, most fights were over quickly, so he probably would never keep it active long enough for it to really hurt him much. In short, he was happy with the skill. More than that, though, he couldn’t help but wonder what the future might hold. If [Heart of the Berserker] was that effective, what would higher level skills do?

As he sat beside the fire, Zeke turned his attention to the rune. He’d done the same to the ones in his hands that activated [Leech Strike] on enough occasions that he felt like he almost understood them. He didn’t, of course. They were far too complicated for his occasional study to yield any level of understanding. However, with the addition of the new rune on his back, he finally had some basis for comparison. And while he recognized some similarities, he knew he had a long way to go before figuring anything out. That didn’t stop him from spiritually inspecting the runes, hour after hour until he drifted off to sleep. His every instinct told him that, one day, his study would yield results. And he wouldn’t give that up just because they were slow in coming. Zeke was far too stubborn for that.