Chapter 5

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The drums beat in the night, you can run or you can fight.

In all seriousness, the inevitable doom was coming to us. We were slowly and steadily being driven in and surrounded like bloody wolves on a hunt. The only route that seemed to be open was the river, but I sensed with every fiber of my cowardly soul that it was a trap. Judging by the flashes of my butt-sense, something was floating there now, and I didn't mean something that wasn't drowning at all, like shit. It was more about the cousins of the wonderful fish I had seen on the first day of my arrival in the wondrous new world.

That left us with two options. Option one was to sit back and get our asses ready for use of a bunch of [censored]... or no, a bunch of other colored folks. The [censored] ones. Maybe we'll even have one last drink if Hans ain't already got his bottle of brew. Option two is to try and breakthrough one of the cordons by breaking out of the trap. Considering my class, I have a good chance of crawling through on my own, if I'm careful enough and don't go to any trouble for the crumbs of experience. I'll have to leave my companions behind, but I don't have to worry about that, do I? Wouldn't I?

A suddenly awakened conscience attacked with the force of a bullterrier clutching at my balls, appealing to my heroic feelings and species solidarity. My conscience was cynically dismissed, killed, and dismembered, but I still decided to breakthrough together. It was just until the moment when, for me personally, the danger did not become critical.

We were silent on the way, not heading in the same direction along the river: they must have put out the toughest of the hounds there. Nor did we go back the way we'd come, assuming that there would be too many enemies to push through. Like, true idiots, we went straight into the woods, with a slight incline to the side, to start the fight at what was supposed to be the biggest weakness of the encirclement circle.

We were all walking quietly enough because Losius has a high score of dexterity characteristic as all swordsman classes, and Hans is a Jaeger by class. And there's nothing to say about me. So the seemingly insane idea had a good chance of working out. Besides, it was the perfect moment to reveal some of my capabilities to my unwilling companions and see how they would react.

And if I don't like this reaction, the moment to get rid of them will be extremely good. The main thing is not to leave them alive, because otherwise, the [censored] ones might find out about my capabilities, which is not at all pleasant, uninspiring, and exciting.

I have no idea how many of the local savages are shamans, but judging by the fact that I've never met one in all my wanderings, not a lot. What are the chances that we might come across at least one of them, naturally, with a retinue and guards, just by sheer luck? Naturally, they were almost zero, so the theory of probability played in our favor, which is why there was no "one" shaman in the squad we met. Because, bitch, how I hate my fucking luck, there were two of them!

It was lucky that I was constantly watching through the shadow sphere, so I noticed an unusual, strange shadow from above almost immediately. What's more, that shadow was headed in the direction of my not-so-hidden companions, without me noticing it. And trivial logic told me that even if this thing wasn't attacking, it would at least alert everyone else to their location.

It was the perfect moment to make a quiet exit, leaving a tasty and painful bait for the main force to lunge at. All I had to do was to turn around and walk away, leaving these guys in my memory as another stepping stone I had to step on to survive.

With a sigh and a quiet (I mouthed it with my lips alone) swear, I speed up and dash toward the enemies we'd already spotted a little away from us. At the same time, I wrap a shadow around the translucent cloud of air, causing it to freeze. And after that, I wish my shadow would damage the intangible enemy. A throbbing pain erupted in my head, and a good chunk of energy went into the void, but it was as if the spirit was... No, not torn or destroyed. He was first badly burned and then literally dragged inside the shadow, which became for a moment something greater and far deeper than a mere shadow.

I didn't expect such a great effect, I admit. So the shadows are very effective against intangible enemies? I'll have to look into farming all sorts of ghosts and spirits, now that the opportunity has arisen.

By the time I got to the stage, the [censored] had not only realized that someone had destroyed their spirit. They were preparing to greet that someone with bread and salt. I was also sure, for some reason, that the two goblin drummers had to be among the first to be taken out, so they wouldn't drum any bad things.

However, drummers will only go to the other world after the death of mages. I have no idea exactly how their classes work, and I don't have time to evaluate their levels, but I'm not going to underestimate the danger of a full-fledged mage. And if there are two mages at once, then don't even think about it.

The two shamans (or were they mages?) were both orcs, which was no surprise. Both were very old - one was just old and hunched over, and the other was a real fossil, not sure how he was still alive. "The younger one," by the way, was visibly staggering, and blood was streaming from his nose, pouring into the feathers and knuckles on his necklace. I'm betting that the death of the spirit-watcher had hit the savage who had summoned it hard. The other, the old man, was fully operational, and the tip of the knotted staff in his decrepit hand glowed dead-blue.

The pursuers were already in position, putting the caster in the center of the formation and leaving the tallest and best-armed orcs at the edges. The goblins, on the other hand, played the role of an incessant shouting outer ring that had to take the first blow. Against warriors this tactic would work like a Swiss watch. The assassins might have been able to get the mages, but they couldn't retreat.

But the heroic isekai had his aces, and there was no point in keeping it, waiting for the right moment. Today the rest of my companions and I would either break through the barriers and evade the chase, or die and go to the soup of some [censored] faggots. I would have thrown my stats around, too, if I didn't feel I could do as I did. And I could do it quite easily!

Well, let's start.

I quickly run up the tree and immediately jump from the top right into the center of the formation, fervently hoping that my plan will still be successful and not suicidal.

The moment I landed, I attacked the far more dangerous old man, literally slashing into his back with two shadow-enhanced daggers. I was hitting with overpowering, just in case, there was some kind of magical protection. Something was indeed there as if the air had thickened at the points of impact, but if the steel slowed a bit, the shadow barrier did not even notice, literally breaking the shaman into two unequal halves, easily tearing his gray-haired head off.

The others had just started to react when I threw one of my daggers at the second shaman. I thought I'd just run him over with a shadow, since my throwing skills were not at all impressive, but, to my surprise, I hit him right in the neck. I was aiming for the torso, but it was even better - the orc, still reeling from the trouble with the watcher-spirit, began to collapse slowly and sadly on his back, sprinkling a fountain of blood on the ground.

Before everyone around me realized what had happened, I managed to slash my sharp shadow ribbons twice (I had to let the second one out just from my hand, which was a bit more difficult) in all directions. One strike at knee level, the second at neck level. The emptiness habitually began to creep up to my heart, but the bottom of my reserves was still very far away, but the screaming wounded and the silently falling dead not only added to my experience but also broke the [censored]skins' formation, causing them a second of confusion - under the cover of falling bodies and bloodstreams I went back into stealth.

The original plan was to push me back with shadows, but the lack of cooperation from the orc gave me a great chance to keep my energy for a later fight.

I slipped between the sweaty, smelly, muscular bodies of the orcs, feeling like a radical Islamist at a party of aggressive homosexual [censored]. Sincerely, but silently, I thanked fate for choosing improved coordination, for in combination with the shadow sphere it made it possible to build a perfect escape route right through the rushing crowd of bastards.

Alas, there is no perfection in this world, so I had to kill three goblins at once, and there was no way around them. I was one step away from breaking out of the encirclement, but it didn't change the essence of the problem. I realized that I had been spotted and could no longer hide. Without turning back, I pierced the two goblin drummers with my shadow spike, spoiling their drums at the same time. The moment their own shadows merged into one and pierced through them, a sincere and almost human astonishment flashed across their faces.

The crowd of foes screaming something profane didn't even notice their loss, trying to attack me when I fell out of the stealth. I had to retreat in a beautiful and unnaturally long jump, combined with a backward somersault. And no shadows, just high stats.

I was followed by the furthest orc, who had applied some sort of dash ability and blasted the goblins in front of him like pins (more like minced meat). Alas for him, he was no match for the deceased chieftain, so his spurt, though extremely fast even for me, was easily discernible, and it wasn't too hard to predict the endpoint.

In fact, his fight ended with his life on that dash, for I adjusted my flight slightly with the shadow, so that he landed not on my ribs, but on the dagger and obsidian knife in front of me. The quality steel of the dagger creaked nastily, but it held, but not the ribs and the orc's heart. It didn't kill him, at least not completely, but he didn't have time to hit him with the club, and he got his throat cut open and two eyes knocked out.

And I had to dodge three blows at once - a stone ax, a long dart, almost a spear, and another club. There were enough orcs who had gotten their first classes and had mastered basic abilities. Their darts scattered the goblins just the same, but, unlike the most impatient, they had the good sense not to pounce. After finishing their dash a few meters away from me, they attacked with normal attacks, forcing me to waste time on defense and lose the initiative, allowing the remaining goblins to come close for a friendly embrace with an isekai.

The trio was used to fighting together, at least without getting in each other's way. But the timing of their attacks was much worse, which was why my good, good attempt to turn me into a kebab had ended badly. Waiting for a pause in my series of attacks, I twisted my shadowy blade like a cobra attacker and knocked out the eyes of the spearman as the most dangerous. After that, I yanked my screaming foe toward me, putting his head under the ax and his back under the club.

The chief hadn't even slowed down in a similar situation, but they were of a lower rank. No, they didn't yell "what have I done," for they didn't care for their tribesman (or so I had not noticed), but they had to freeze in surprise. Two swift dagger strikes pierced the liver and heart of the bearer of the club, and another quickly created shadow ribbon blew the head off the last of the enemies standing beside me. In the few seconds I'd spent on them, the others who wanted my meat were almost there, but almost.

I almost without a problem going into stealth, already planning a run into the back of the cannibals who were too keen on catching me, as my shadow perception was interrupted by the recall of the "young" shaman I had forgotten about. The reminder came in the form of a big, watermelon-sized ball of lightning, with an orcish face emerging from it, that suddenly flashed over me.

My sense of danger howled like a castrated cat, and my ass began to break the world record in brick production for ten years, all within a few seconds. Honestly, if there was anything in my guts, I'd shit my pants! I don't know how that shit fooled my gut, but I didn't feel the usual buildup of danger - it just appeared, making my anus shrink to the size of the eye of a needle.

I did the rest on reflexes and a sort of hunch, rather than thinking it through. And that was a good thing because if I had tried to think about the depths of the vat of shit that had opened before me, it would have fried me to a crispy crust. Still, reflexes are a great thing, aren't they?

Without even trying to distract me by the bastards preparing to make a colander of me, I lift my own shadow off the ground, stretch it out, and cover myself with it like a blanket. At the same time, I pull the shadows of all the goblins approaching me, the shadows of the tree branches, and any shadows at all, merging them into one and covering myself with a second layer.

I put in a tremendous amount of energy, nearly exhausted trying to pump so much energy at once, but still ended up creating my shadow cocoon in less than two seconds.

And then Hell descended on my location, literally incinerating only the foes who had run up and were already swinging, not having time to even think about what was going on, let alone try to save their skins.

A moment stretched for ages.

And then it felt like a cannonball had crashed into me, making me grit my teeth with a wild, nerve-grinding pain. It was as if they had put me in the electric chair and started shaking me with millions of volts of uninterrupted love and kindness! The only reason I didn't scream like a bitch was that my concentration was going to hold on to the remnants of the cocoon that was still saving me from an unenviable fate.

At a certain moment, the shadows could no longer hold their shape, but the spirit blow was exhausted, too. My body was both very empty - barely a fifth of its reserve - and very painful. Pain pulsed through my entire body, almost making me weep with helplessness. My cramped muscles refused to straighten, so I lay curled up on the cold ground like an embryo. I could not say how long it lasted, but probably not long, because I was brought to my senses by a fierce shoulder braking, performed by Losius swearing like three and a half Hans (or one Warrant Officer):

"...in! Tin, fuck you with a mountain giant and a dozen spears in all your holes! Get up, get up! There's no time to lie down!" It took me a long time to realize the words of the yelling guy, but when I did, I immediately started trying to move my buttocks.

With difficulty, I straighten up and look around me. My battlefield looks like a Sith training ground - a pile of torn, burnt, and still slightly sparkling corpses, the vegetation completely scorched throughout the small clearing... and intact foliage where I lay. Whatever the blow was, I managed to resist it.

Fuck!

Bitch!

It seems the unkilled orc somehow summoned a truly powerful spirit. He had to have mortgaged his soul and asshole to be regularly fucked by the pus-filled fantasy miscarriages of the worst perverts! Apparently, the [censored] deer-fucker decided that his reputation does not allow him to die alone, and wanted to go to the other world with a decent escort. He did not kill me, thank God, Cthulhu, Amon-Ra, and the holy tits, but he killed all of his tribesmen, and at the same time set up a gorgeous illumination for the whole forest, as if he were inviting the other hunters in for a light.

But why "as if"?

Surely quite deliberately inviting. *long cursing of seasoned 2chaner:*

"I'm fine." My voice is hoarse, like that of a smoky convict with every lung disease in the world. "I sensed a spirit spying on you, so I decided to hit ahead of the time. I killed both the shamans and was about to retreat when the dying beast summoned some unimaginable shit. It only struck once, but I barely survived."

I share what happened with the listeners, giving them a small credit for running to my aid instead of leaving me here to die alone. To be perfectly honest, I expected the exact opposite.

"Yeah, I can see how that was "barely." Losius stretched out absent-mindedly, glancing around the apocalyptic picture in the middle of the forest clearing and the completely untouched area below me. "Can you walk, Tin? Or we could drag you on the back."

I listen to how I feel, and I find myself feeling surprisingly well. Well, for someone who's been through such a fucked-up experience, it's not bad. Better if I don't activate my magical abilities until at least morning, and preferably 24 hours after that, but even now I can run just not very fast

I note especially the willingness of both companions to help. Of course, it is obvious, because I was the one who cut the cordon, not forcing them to risk their skins, but it is one thing to understand this, and quite another to act on conscience. Otherwise, they might have said, "Nothing personal, but we want to live here, so catch up when you get better."

"If it's not too fast, I can do it." Then I remembered the compounds I had and found some gum, which the System called a weak energy stimulant, and threw it in my mouth. I was able to get some energy back, and an icy chill ran through my muscles, relieving the fatigue and giving me a new breath.

"Then stop f*cking around and run while we still can." Hans is as gallant as ever, like a hippo in a kitchen.

No one argued with the ranger, and we did run deep into the woods. It looked like we had time to leave the corral ring before it was rebuilt. A slight smile crept onto my face, and running became a little easier.

Yet we are still alive.

I didn't dare to open the blinking message status today. As high as my endurance was, it also had limits, and when you consider the fact that it was not particularly high, it became quite sad. I had to run in silence, trying not to strain the most painful parts of my entire body.

Reading into something was out of the question. I even had to leave the search of trails and directions to Hans, because I didn't have the energy to stealth or work with the shadow sphere. The most telling fact would be that I didn't even pay attention to the five goblins, led by an orc, coming straight at us. I just didn't have the concentration to listen to the shadows.

This time, however, my companions did not falter, launching an immediate attack. First Losius applied the skill, making his sword glow a faint blue, and then, in two dancing steps, approached the orc and sliced his throat with some elaborate feint, slicing his arm off in a backward motion. The goblins had barely begun to comprehend what was happening when the duelist stabbed one in the eye and gave the other a savory kick in the face. He had to pirouette away from there, for the rest of the trio attacked the impudent man rather cohesively, albeit slowly.

Hans stabbed the foremost with his short sword, ripping open the belly of another with his dagger. The last one on his feet was about to run away, but the newly engaged aristocrat cut off his intentions with a precise blow. A second more, and the still whimpering underdog ceased to be, too.

Quite a decent level, I'd say. Losius might even have a little more dexterity than I do, which is a major stat for his class. On the other hand, my stats are all evenly high, and I have the shadows to beat a duelist who's too fragile to fight. Hans, with his level fourteen, isn't bad, but he's certainly no match for me.

We all ran - with transitions to a brisk walk - long and diligent, increasing the distance between us and those who wanted our asses. Gradually I was regaining my strength, but it was still a long way from being able to go into stealth again and fight effectively. I had to hiss curses quietly, squeezing some more from myself.

We didn't get up for a rest until morning, for we needed to rest like air. We were all exhausted, and the enemy had probably already figured out the situation and was moving toward us. Our only hope is that the throng of motley goblinoids will sooner or later tire of chasing three humans. It'll just be more trouble than it's worth. Then only the stubbornest and most hardened will keep coming after us, even if it's a combined elite force of different tribes. But you can try to run away from one group or deal with them once and for all. It would be more foolish and hopeless to fight the entire local population.

Actually, the smart thing to do from the start would have been to leave my random companions behind, passing through the ranks of the hunters in stealth. In fact, I was planning to do something like that if things got really bad. They were nobody to me, in fact, and I didn't want to die for them any more than I wanted to serve in the army.

T.N.In Russia military service is compulsory. Also, the Army has a bad PR and almost everyone tries to do everything to avoid it.

The trouble is, I didn't just get injured. Injuries are minor-they are already healing. The trouble is, leaving my allies who even didn't think (well, maybe Hans was thinking) about leaving me would be a bit pig-headed. Not to say that I haven't had a chance to act like an asshole in my life, but I've tried to do it purely for the lulz. And just doing shit like that kept me from having a sense of beauty.

I'm still confident that I could go off on my own if necessary.

But now I will be ashamed of it!

The night passed quietly, though I expected a surprise from the pursuers. But apparently, they were really stumped, either hesitating to mess with us (unlikely) or having trouble organizing a new ring of hunters. The latter was much more believable. To be honest, it hurt my brain to try to imagine a way to organize such a bunch of dumbass scumbags.

I felt better in the morning, and the muscle cramps had stopped the night before. I felt as if I had been on a long binge when the hangover was over, but the weakness and muscles were still weak from exertion. And no, I had not been on a binge myself, but one of my office colleagues had worked in a nurse's office when he was young.

T.N. MC talk about a special unit for over drunk folks.

What nonsense comes into my head.

I creaked up and started rubbing my arms and massaging my calves. It wouldn't hurt to do a little exercise in general. Nothing really complicated, just a warm-up for a stiff body.

My movements attracted the attention of Hans, who gave me a hard-to-read look and nodded to the seat next to him. Like 'Sit down and we'll talk'.

We did not dare to make a fire, thinking that it would be warm enough in the daytime, and the smoke could give away our location. Though we had left a lot of traces, they still needed to be walked on, and the smoke would immediately indicate our exact location.

Quietly, trying not to wake the only sleeper, I sit down next to him, trying to get into a position where nothing would hurt. I was very unsuccessful, I must say, trying to do so.

"Are you on the mend?" He asks the obvious. "That's good. I thought you were made of stone, Tin."

"Not yet back to normal, but I think I'll be able to start tracking the surroundings again," I state this by considering how I feel about myself.

"Look, don't take this as rude, but why the fuck are you bothering with us, huh? You, with your talents, it wasn't worth shit just to walk away then. Neither do you now. You're hiding like a lot of assassins can't. Those shitheads will search to death if you're alone."

I'm wondering, I'm really wondering. What made me get involved with this company? The need for human companionship that I had been deprived of? The availability of good food instead of boring fish? Just a habit of sticking with the collective?

"I don't even know. I guess it would be a reluctance to continue to walk these places alone, hiding from goblins and slaughtering orcs. It is, of course, quite fascinating, but it bored me to no end. Can I ask you a counter-question?"

My answer was accepted, and, judging by the pathfinder's reaction, it seemed logical and plausible. They have no idea how long I've been in these woods - I didn't say how long, but I said "a long time" - so the version with the banal longing for human companionship was plausible. Especially since it is almost true.

It was a good explanation for my skills in hiding from the attention of others. If I was running and hiding all the time, I should have been able to either grid the skills or die from lack of them.

"Why not?" While I was thinking, the warrior himself had already answered my question. "If it's not a secret, I'll tell you."

"It's not that it's a secret, it's more of general interest. How did you get to this shit?" I ask and make a vague gesture with my hand as if to demonstrate what else "this shit."

"Ha, well, it's no secret." My interlocutor barely suppressed a chuckle, purely out of reluctance to wake up a sleeping Losius. "Listen, if you don't fall asleep from boredom."

The story of a small private group of archaeologists, living off orders from the Royal Academy of Knowledge, was quite mundane. One of the not-so-rich aristocrats first made a good name for himself during the last frontier conflict, gaining a high level and good personal reinforcement, but he quarreled with the higher command.

Being forced to leave the army, the leader of the diggers decided to become exactly what he had become. Digging graves and dungeons was in many ways more dangerous than military service, but the pay was obscenely high. Needless to say, many of his loyal border guards left with him.

Hans included.

He was, according to him, the grandson of a provincial baron who had once pulled up the hem of a pretty maid's dress. The maid's son was the father of the future ranger.

The boy grew up very healthy and agile, from a young age helping his father in the household and passionate about hunting wild animals. The forests belonged to the baron only formally, because he had neither the strength nor the special desire to catch poachers. Having taken as many as two levels, Hans became almost the first guy in the village. The headman, whose son Hans had been at odds with for a long time, probably contributed to the fact that the young hunter was the last to be drawn in the lottery on the question of "who to recruit".

Then there was service, training, first slaughtering goblin nests, and catching brigands. Transfer to the frontier service and the following years of fun competitions in the style of "catch me an arrow," from which no longer a young hunter reached the tenth level and got a class Pathfinder. Well, when one of the few normal supervisors offered to go to the free bread, tired of the constantly disgruntled faces of the officers, Pathfinder with a light heart agreed.

The squad was doing well, and the former officer obviously had some connections in the Academy of Knowledge, so the boys and girls received mostly profitable, but not too dangerous contracts. The levels of the frontline fighters grew (to Hans' regret, the Pathfinders almost never had to fight in combat, which explains the low level for a forty-year-old man who had spent almost all his life in the army), the funding grew, and the appetite grew.

Fortunately, Master Cadmij, as the head of the squad was called, knew how to balance the desirable with the real, so he did not take any really serious things. The competition and the death rate were too high, and the booty taken from the really valuable mounds and burials were taken straight to the treasury of the kingdom and the pockets of the highest officials of the state.

Instead of idle daydreaming, Cadmij found new cadres, seeking to strengthen his men to the maximum. Three squad mages, one of whom was also a healer, several with highly unusual classes, and relatively good equipment. He also lured distant kin into his employ - the same Losius, who had a falling-out with the nobility in the Capital, was hired by the leader despite not being in the best class. Class is class, but level eighteen meant something, too.

And then the same nasty thing happened at the excavation, teleporting the poor guys straight into the depths of uncharted land.

The end.

"Yeah. That was quite a trip you took." I'm just saying that to say something.

The story is certainly moody, but no more than that. Something tells me that there are much more interesting adventures in this world than excavating and then cleaning up undead-inhabited burial grounds.

"That's still a question." There was the slightly sleepy voice of a waking Losius. "I didn't like it, I even planned to quit after this contract. I wish I had quit right away, honestly."

"Sorry for waking you up." I turn to him now. "We tried to be quiet, but, as you can see, it didn't work."

Hans muttered some sort of apology, too, getting up from the ground with pleasure. In any case, there was no more time for sleep; we had to keep moving.

"Anyway, I'm already up."

With such yawns and curses to the local inhabitants, we set off on our new journey. The farther away we were from the crowd hungry for our souls, the easier it would be for us to survive.

"It was a silly story." It was easier to talk on the move than on the run, so I asked him about his life. "I was foolishly involved in a duel with the son of one of the capital's aristocrats. He was foolish enough to accept it. I did not mean to kill him, only to bleed, but he was unlucky enough to slip and literally run into my blade. At least there were a lot of witnesses, or it would have been very bad. Even so, I had to leave the capital very quickly. Master Cadmij was a friend of my father's, so I had a place to stay for a while, but I thought I might find something better thereafter."

My energy was gradually coming back, so I had time to go into stealth now and then to pretend to check the surroundings. I just watched through the shadow sphere. The rest of the time, though, I could have fun conversations about life.

"What about you, Tin? I've never had much contact with your fellows... uh, no offense."

Yeah, I doubt you'd normally talk to someone like me (the me I made my legend about). I didn't see much arrogance in the guy, but that doesn't mean it wasn't there before. The dangers we share bring us closer together, erasing all class differences and other prejudices.

"Well, if you're waiting for a story about a hungry homeless boy who kills for food and shelter, I'll disappoint you." I begin the singing, trying not to tell a single direct lie. "I grew up in pretty good conditions, and I had no plans to become the man I am today. And then a fatal accident, very unpleasant information about high society, as well as about their plans for the one who knows this information, carelessly said to those who should not be rude, words, and here I stepped on a crooked road, which has led me to this picturesque place."

Well? I didn't lie anywhere - a quiet and good life, randomly recruiting me as a hero, my accidental rescue from Yoke, revealing secrets of local kings and kings that directly affect me as well, then sassing the admins by getting a head start on Bobik, and here I am. Sounds plausible and ambiguous enough, just like me.

"That's what I hear, your speech is too accurate." He nodded contentedly, and then looked in my direction with a hint. "More suited to the masters of the Secret Guard."

Is he alluding to my association with these knights of the cloak and dagger? God forbid I should go there with my status. On the other hand, it sounds much more plausible than that of a thief and an assassin, for my skills are too unusual.

Instead of confirming or denying the assumption, I just shake my head and go into stealth. It's time for me to check my status, now that I've regained some of my fighting ability. I'll see what the messages are flashing so invitingly in the corner of my vision.

Shadow Control: 4/5

Allows you to masterfully control shadows in your field of vision, giving them full physical embodiment; shadows are free to take solid form and are suitable for creating obstacles and barriers; the range, speed, control and extension of shadows are greatly increased; shadow density is greatly increased; shadows gain the ability to inflict energy damage; wounds inflicted by shadows heal worse.

The first gift made me smile sincerely. I hesitated with the class point allocation for a reason, because I had already almost closed one of the ability slots without putting a single point into it. Also, I'd bet my obsidian knife that it was the ability upgrade that saved my ass from being struck postmortem by lightning on my poor ass.

I only wish I had the energy to actively use shadows again to try out the gimmick, but it will be a must-do once I'm fully recovered. Too versatile an ability on which my life depends. It definitely needs to be trained.

So, what's next?

The perception characteristic has reached 50 points! Choose a skill!

- Improved tactile sensation (common);

- Improved hearing (common);

Attention, the further growth rate of this characteristic is significantly reduced.

It's kind of bland. I mean, I understand that for the first half a hundred points System doesn't give something admirable, but not to that extent. The tactile sensations would probably be good for thieves and the like, to better pickpockets and open locks, and with hearing, everything is clearer than ever.

Damn, with dexterity the passives were useful, not like this. I thought about it and chose to use my enhanced hearing because it would be more useful now. Though with the distance my shadow sphere covers, I can hear anything I want without hearing. And those who pass through the sphere without disturbing the shadows can certainly take care of the inaudibility.

Okay, what's next?

The energy characteristic has reached 50 points! Choose a perk!

- Increasing the energy reserve (common);

- Increasing the quality of energy (common);

Attention, the further growth rate of this characteristic is significantly reduced.

And this is already much more interesting than the dull perks for high perception. However, there is a suspicion that the magical characteristics are grinding much harder than the physical ones, so the reward comes out proportionally tastier.

As for the choice, it was surprisingly simple. Look - my class, as well as my entire fighting style, is designed to eliminate the enemy quickly and inconspicuously. More reserve is a good thing, of course, but my reserve is already far from small. I suspect that the amount of energy available to me, and the amount of reserve that adds up to a single stat point, is increased by the mythical class. Just a pure suspicion, nothing more.

But, returning to the topic of reserves, I add that exhaustion combat is useless and harmful to me, even. I fight from the shadows, and if it doesn't work, I retreat. Such skirmishes like that with the orc chieftain are pure planning error and stupidity of the particular isekai. If I had to choose between a larger reserve and a stronger hit from my shadows, I'd choose the latter. So only quality, and nothing else.

The other stats, alas, did not take the fiftieth level, but were significantly closer to it.

I also got a new title, which delighted me with plus stats, but pissed me off with its mocking name. I felt like the System disliked me for something.

Thunderstruck (rare): You received a charge of many millions of volts on your head, but managed to survive such a gift. You have to be pretty stupid to be struck by lightning, but you also have endurance. Effect: +5 endurance.

Bitch.

I use the ring just because I already know how to defend against lightning, and I can run away from Bobik! And my list of grievances only grows. I'm going to make you shameful assholes spend the rest of your lives on the goddamn toilet!

Okay, calm down, Kostik, calm down.

Breathe deeply and thoroughly.

Now we open the status, check everything listed, and then slowly crawl back to our companions. Otherwise, I will either go crazy alone with the System, or I will learn how to punch you in the face through a software message.

"Status."

Name: Konstantine

Race: Human

Level: 14

Titles: Hero; Silent Assassin; Night Master, Thunderstruck

Characteristics Points: 65

Class Points: 5

Characteristics (standard):

Strength: 33

Dexterity: 54

Endurance: 46

Perception: 51

Concentration: 37

Energy: 50

Characteristics (class):

Shadow: 16

Dreams: 1

Inspiration: 2

Class: Lord of Shadows

Rank: 1

Basic characteristics: shadows, dexterity, perception.

Abilities:

Shadow Control: 4/5

Allows you to masterfully control shadows in your field of vision, giving them full physical embodiment; shadows are free to take solid form and are suitable for creating obstacles and barriers; the range, speed, control, and extension of shadows are greatly increased; shadow density is greatly increased; shadows gain the ability to inflict energy damage; wounds inflicted by shadows heal worse.

Shadow Sense: 2/5

Allows you to sense all shadows within a small radius; gives you the ability to sense the movement of shadows and their belonging; allows you, at the limit of concentration, to control shadows even outside the field of direct vision.

[undisclosed]

Bonuses:

Shadowborn: stealth skills grow five times faster; in case of danger, shadows will shelter you as their brethren.

Dexterous: Dexterity grows faster.

[undisclosed]

Class: Master of Dreams and Reflections

Rank: 1

Basic characteristics: dreams, concentration, perception

Abilities:

Create a dream: 1/5

Allows you to control the dream you are in, with limited influence on the passage of time.

Send a dream: 0/5

[undisclosed]

Bonuses:

Dreamer: social and magic skills associated with the class grow five times faster; no one has power over your dreams but yourself.

Undeterred: the concentration grows faster.

[undisclosed]

Class: Mystic Alchemist

Rank: 1

Basic characteristics: inspiration, perception, energy

Abilities:

Creating a compound: 1/5

Allows you to create alchemical compositions from available reagents by instinctively understanding the creation process

Reagent breakdown: 0/5

[undisclosed]

Bonuses:

Understanding of the essence: the ability to see and, with reservations, understand magic in things and reagents; all craft skills related to alchemy grow five times faster.

Attentive: perception grows faster.

[undisclosed]

Special:

Limit of Excellence (from the title ‘Hero’): raises the maximum limit of natural characteristic growth to 50 (Now: 60), accelerates trainability and increases the amount of experience gained.

Hero's Will: Thought-affecting skills ranked below your class have no effect.

Hero's Gaze: allows you to see a certain amount of information about others; depending on your level.

Mythic: Limit of characteristic development raised by 10 (Now: 60), allows you to choose three classes at once.

Silence in the hall (rare; from the title ‘Silent Assassin’): active skill that completely mutes sounds in a small area. Duration and area of effect depend on user’s level and energy value.

Night Master (rare): You have, voluntarily or involuntarily, met the standard for the title of a professional assassin. Proving that you have this title will get you a job in any shadow guild. If you don't get slaughtered just in case. Effect: +5 to dexterity; +2 to all characteristics except class.

Improved coordination (common): improves coordination and fine motor skills.

Improved hearing (common): Improves hearing, allows you to distinguish previously inaudible whispers and rustles, makes it easier to distinguish the sources of sounds and identify them.

Increase energy quality (common): makes your energy more saturated and denser, thus increasing the power of your charms and reducing the cost of creation.

Thunderstruck (rare): You received a charge of many millions of volts on your head, but managed to survive such a gift. You have to be pretty stupid to be struck by lightning, but you also have endurance. Effect: +5 endurance.

Skills:

Provocation: 5 (apprentice)

Running: 12 (journeyman)

Stealth: 48 (master)

Swimming: 5 (apprentice)

Alchemy: 29 (journeyman)

Herbalism: 23 (journeyman)

Fishing: 14 (journeyman)

Spear Mastery: 3 (apprentice)

Infiltration: 20 (journeyman)

Danger sense: 30 (master)

Deathstroke: 31 (master)

Dagger Mastery: 47 (master)

Hand-to-hand combat: 11 (journeyman)

Energy Flow Management: 16 (journeyman)

Two-Handed Combat: 10 (journeyman)

Throwing Weapon: 6 (apprentice)

* * *