Noticing the lack of light, I looked up from my scroll.

“It's night already?”

Not that I was surprised. This had happened more times than I could count during my years on Earth. While reading, I go into somewhat of a trance, immersed in the world of paper and ink. Time just slips away and before I realize it, the day is long gone. Now that I was on Clergius, things weren’t that different. Well, at least not for me.

The first day I was guided to the mess hall by Fernandela, where I met up with Sam and Emmy. They looked exhausted, more than I would’ve thought from a day of training.

“Which war did you survive, fellow soldiers?”

“Don’t even joke about it. I'll never look at a rabbit the same again...”

Apparently the training today was to help desensitize them to blood and killing. They were given a cage with several rabbits in it and forced to butcher them. If they couldn’t do it, they had no meals until they could. After Sam explained the day’s torture, I noticed several people missing from the hall. Unfortunately, it looked like Patrick was among the people eating, meaning he could kill the rabbits just fine.

After that day, the others went through more traditional combat training, learning how to use their skills effectively. As for me, I read my way through a couple shelves in the library. I had nothing better to do, and all of the information was there for the taking. Linguist allowed me to understand everything, and a side effect of that was that I could skim through a book and still understand it all. For me, skimming was exactly the same as reading in the past, at least in terms of retention. My mind was filled with more and more knowledge of the world, even if I was still unknowledgeable about combat. This brings us back to now, a week after we were summoned. I stood up, knees popping from stiffness.

“I should really stop reading on the floor. I feel like an old man.”

“Well, you may not be old, but you’re knocking on death’s door, eh trash?”

Great. After coming here, a place where strength is respected above all, Patrick’s attitude has just gotten shittier and shittier. He walked around the bookshelf carrying a small box under his arm.

“What do you want, Patty boy?”

“Aw, I just wanted to give you a little present. Tell me, genius boy, have you heard of Screlz scorpions?”

My eyes immediately went to the box in his hands. From the reading I had done, I understood that most animals here were normal animals, but some were infected with mana and mutated into monsters. Screlz scorpions were the perfect example of that, as they were many times more venomous than the scorpions they mutated from, faster and many times more deadly. The sting only left a microscopic mark to indicate its presence on the corpse, making them one of the key methods of assassination. Unfortunately, they died after delivering a single dose of venom, making them a one-use product, but the benefits outweighed the risk. Seeing that I understood, Patrick grinned at me before opening the case and tossing the contents at me. I instinctively swatted at the flying arachnid, but it was too late. Somehow, the stinger had found my hand, and I immediately fell to the ground, losing all feeling in my limbs.

“While the poison takes effect, allow me to say what a useless life you led. You did literally nothing while the rest of us worked our asses off, and everyone pitied you. You've always been trash, and I hated just looking at you. Now that you’ll be gone, I don’t have to worry about throwing up every time I see you.”

I tried to ask why, but my throat wouldn’t cooperate. What did I ever do to irritate you so much? Why would you go so far as to kill me? Unfortunately, my vision went dark before I could force my words out.

“Alright, pay up. I told you he would only last a week.”

“Ugh, fine.”

I woke up in front of a throne wreathed in green flames. A man in a business suit... wait, why does this feel so familiar?

“Welcome back, Matthew Dusk. Allow me to unlock your memories for you.”

He made a pulling gesture, and a dark miasma floated out of my mouth into his hands. Everything came rushing back to me, at least what little there was, and a voice rang out in my head.

You have fulfilled the requirements for unlocking the hidden skill: Envoy of Macual. Three skills will be unlocked based on the fact that you have:

Died at least once with Macual’s blessing active.

Did not die from natural causes.

Are in possession of the bloodline of an ancient.

Skills unlocked: Aura of Death, Undying Breath, Skill Theft.

Aura of Death: Every 24 hours, gain a stack of Death’s touch.

Undying Breath: Upon death, consume a stack of Death’s Touch and choose a revival point. You will revive at a time of your choosing in a fully healthy condition.

Skill Theft: Upon death, you may choose one skill from the being who killed you. You gain that skill and target loses that skill.

You have been killed by Patrick Rose. You may choose to steal either Sword Mastery or Latent Talent.

Just two words... Holy shit! This seemed like it could overpower almost anything. First off, every day I could store a stack of death’s touch, and I could respawn far away when I reached my last stack. Finally, every time I died, it made my enemies weaker and me stronger.

“I trust this is to your satisfaction, Matthew?”

I took a look at the throne, the god’s voice pulling me away from the notifications. Standing next to the throne was a squat, wrinkled and warty man, made even more hideous by the green light next to him.

“It is. Who's the garden gnome over there?”

Damn my smart mouth. Why did you have to act up in front of Death? Thankfully Macual didn’t find that offensive, just laughing after glancing at the man beside him.

“This is Sorrow, my right hand, er.... actually, you’re right, after closer inspection he does look like he would make a garden ornament!”

“Can we get back to the situation at hand, my liege? My joints will kill me tomorrow if this lasts much longer.”

“I’m not the one who decided to bet 40 years.”

“What are you guys talking about?” I was thoroughly confused by the idea of betting years, or whatever was going on.

“As we are immortal, we can’t die, but we can choose our body’s age. Thus, the most common wager is to have the loser remain at an old age for a certain amount of time.”

“I hate being 80. Makes me cranky.”

“Oh! That reminds me, I always wanted to see what an 80 year old squirrel looks like.”

“Now that I reconsider, it’s better than 90.”

Seeing their banter reminded me of my conversations with Sam and Emmy. That led me to thinking about my death, which made me realize something.

“Wait a second, why did I get the options for Patrick’s skills? I was killed by the scorpion, so wouldn’t that mean I would receive the scorpion’s skills?”

“If the scorpion had attacked you of its own volition, then that would be the case. However, it was commanded by Mr. Rose, so therefore, you were killed by him. Now, I think you should revive soon, am I right? Have fun with your new skills.”

“Oh yeah, kid. Now that you have the means to protect yourself, it’s fine to trust those two, but only them! Don't let the church know about this.”

Alright. It looked like I wasn’t going to get anything more out of Macual, so I immediately selected Patrick’s pride and joy, Latent Talent, and chose to revive in my room.

“What do you mean, it’s gone! It has to be a problem with the status plate, right?”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t know what happened either. There has never been any case where skills just suddenly disappear.”

Patrick was talking to a preist at the entrance to the mess hall. I guess he was panicking from the sudden disappearance of his skill, but now it was time to freak him out.

“Everything ok there, Patty boy?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin due to my appearance. His skin turned white as a sheet as I brushed past him to enter the hall.

“Y-You should be...”

“In the library? Nope, just a bit too early for that. By the way, thanks for the meal last night. You're a real good guy, bringing that snack just for me.”

Leaving him shaking in his boots, I grabbed a plate and sat down next to my friends.

“Guys, I have a lot to tell you.”