《They never called, yet he is here (censored edition)》Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

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The creature was young, strong, hungry, and very stupid. However, this was a case where the problem with brains and self-control was, in fact, not its problem at all. Taking over the body of the forest beast, which was originally a common moose, the creature immediately began to devour everything and everyone unlucky enough to be near it. Enough blood was spilled to keep it in the real world even without Thunderstorm's influence. It continued to hunt and evolve.

The intangible creatures that inhabit the other planes of existence grow strong very slowly, even killing their fellow kin. The very essence of the immaterial planes did not allow to properly assimilate particles of souls of the defeated opponents. That's why spirits had to suffer disproportionately longer, killing hordes of enemies and taking regular risks of becoming prey themselves. All for the sake of another level, for the sake of becoming stronger. Though most of them remained too dumb to realize their status. They were still part of the System, which strengthened them, following the subconscious and instinctive impulses of their volatile nature.

In reality, of course, they lose a lot of their racial abilities, which are simply not applicable in the material world, but they develop much faster, gaining as much experience in a few hours as they could not gain in years in their mother realm. It is not surprising that most of these guys wanted to stay in a world that was foreign to them for as long as possible while killing and eating as many of its inhabitants as possible.

This creature, for example, has had considerable success: an elk it captured and three wolves it subsequently killed, a wild boar, six of its spirit cousins that also captured vessels, only much more modestly, two orc hunters that broke away from the group, and a whole lot of hares. It could in good conscience call itself a true champion of the Grind, if it had any figurative thought with the ability to comprehend speech at all.

Instead of indulging in arrogance over its achievements, it continued to hunt, compensating with the experience it received and the flesh it devoured for the fatigue and trauma it gradually accumulated in its weaned body. It was not intelligent, but it was still able to evolve enough to begin to dream of the power and strength that more death and blood could provide.

That's why it lunged at the strange biped, something resembling the two green men whose flesh tasted incredibly delicious, perhaps much tastier than anyone else's. A sharp growl that could frighten, confuse, or even tear the weak heart and eardrums apart, rapid acceleration, and an attack with sharpened and considerably reinforced horns, capable at this stage of development of piercing the knight's armor.

Acceleration.

Attack.

Hit!

The creature watched in amazement as the headless body of some strange creature with spiky skin and enormous hooves ran past her. It didn't take her long to realize that she could no longer feel the entrapped body, but that something cold and unbearably dangerous was creeping toward her very core. Her vision faded swiftly, but she heard strange noises from what appeared to be a bipedal creature:

"I'm so [bleep] sick of this [bleep] forest!"

This time it was both easier and harder at the same time. It was simpler because I was not a newcomer to this world, and I was able to run at the speed of a galloping horse for quite a long time. If I neglected recovery and stealth, I could cover the same distance in a day as I had in a couple of weeks at the beginning of my adventures.

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It was harder because every moment I had the realization hanging over my head that I was one step away from a normal bed and a warm bath. I was, but because of my idiocy, I decided to play the good guy. I fucking did! Now Losius and Hans are probably wasting my share of the gold, not even going to wait for me. And they're laughing, too.

My intuition and clairvoyance told me that I was wrong and biased about both men, but even if I was, there was a second problem. I don't know where they were teleported to. It could be anywhere in the world, even diametrically opposed to the direction in which I was moving now.

I wanted to kill someone brutally, but most of the local inhabitants had disappeared and hid somewhere. The situation was saved by the numerous monsters that had grown up after the rain, like some mushrooms, but they were either on one bite or ran away from me when I met them. The latter was destroyed on principle through the shadow sphere. I was not going to give them time to gain strength.

I did not encounter any orcs, goblins, or anyone else. The most frightening enemy I encountered during my solo journey through the woods was this horned monster, whose horns I try to carefully saw off for reagents, as well as some other parts of his body. I still do not have a normal container, but some useful potion can be safely poured into a flask, and then drink diluted. In any case, the thing is good, it will come in handy somewhere. At least sell it as a trophy.

I could have taken some gold coins with me, just in case I went out to people, but something tells me that I would have lost them, just like I lost my first spear. Besides, as I told you before, gold is a very heavy metal, so I shouldn't fill my pockets full of coins at all. After all, with my classes and stats, I can earn or steal a pretty decent amount as long as I have someone to steal and earn it from. And if there isn't, I don't see the point in having them.

I took a break only when I began to feel the fatigue coming on. I tried not to think about how I was going to cook and cut up the animals I'd killed when the food ran out, practiced with the shadows, and finally checked my status. I would have checked before, but I didn't want to spoil the mood if there was any more crap in there.

Oddly enough, there was a lot less bullshit this time. Either I'm so cool, or the System thought that lowering my morale even lower than it is now would be too cruel. The first thing I do is to see off two glowing messages in the tray about reaching the characteristic development limit.

Attention, the strength characteristic has reached a limit and will no longer be developed by training

Attention, the characteristic concentration has reached the limit and will no longer be developed by training.

In fact, it's quite understandable, during my last battle, I brought my body to the peak of its capabilities. And there were only four points in strength and only two in concentration before the limit. Now I could put points into any stat I wanted. I'm not interested in strength, but concentration would be nice to get to 100 points, too. To make it easier to control my shadows in combat. Right now I'm a melee mage. Yes, I can play a bald guy with a barcode on the back of his head, or just slay shadows from close range, but if I get too hot, my biggest weapons are daggers and shadows, dancing their "death tango. It is in this role that I reveal myself at my full power. Concentration, then, is critical.

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For now, though, I'm more concerned with keeping the rapturous shriek in check, because my development, in which I didn't put points into characteristics until they reached a limit, was finally paying off. They gave me a very amusing title, though they gave me a bit of a nasty pill with a little addendum.

A Persistent Guy: you haven't wasted a single point by reaching your full potential, only to then start investing in it. Foolishness or farsightedness? We don't know, but we're rewarding you just in case. Bonus: +5 to all characteristics, except class characteristics.

What is the bitterness of this pill, you may ask? It's because, according to the clairvoyance, I could have gotten three times the bonus if I hadn't invested a single point up to this point. The worst part is that I am aware of the need to distribute the stats! I wouldn't have survived if I hadn't put points into dexterity and reserve, I just wouldn't have survived. I would have died there, in the underground necropolis.

But, in the name of the Holy Internet, how stifling is the toad!

Did I say that toad/frog it's an Avatar of greediness?

The pain was almost physically tangible, literally penetrating to the bone!

I shake off this despicable feeling to continue studying the logs. And almost immediately I feel better about my loss because the next title has made up for the missed opportunity.

Those who've seen a lot: Most mortals live and die without ever meeting a Legend. Some are unlucky enough to meet one, and then their lives are cut short. Few could boast of what they had seen. But you defied the laws of statistics and common sense. You managed to meet three legendary monsters in less than a month and survive each of those encounters! Your fearless folly is rewarded! Bonus: +5 to all stats except class stats, +1 free ability point.

Such a gift! A gift of the gifts, and most importantly, I am completely confident that I deserve it. After all, everything written is true. I really, by virtue of my idiocy, managed to run into three legendary monsters in a row, barely surviving such adventures. And this award looks not only like a mockery (admins, I'm writing down your mockery!), but also quite the natural result of a great effort.

The class point is a balm to my soul. The ability point is very, very cool, even for a Hero, let alone an ordinary person. I was also supposed to get a bonus like that for Moose and Hans, who were now really dangerous types. Considering the titles and levels they'd gained in my company. If memory serves me right Losius was a proud twenty-fifth level by the time he went through the portal.

That's pretty cool, right?

However, it's not that important, because what's more important is that I also developed a lot during this final battle. Considering the quantity and quality of the opponents. Three levels, like out of the bush! Nineteenth level and my intuition tell me that the twentieth, and thus three more class points are not much left.

It's time to start grinding up shadow and alchemical abilities while I still have the opportunity. No one in the woods, all the greenhorns, as I realized, were frightened away by the mystical stuff that was coming out of all the crevices, which I was almost not dangerous. The railroad wagon and three oil tankers of time I have. It's a good time for a proper training session. It's not certain that I'll get free points, but at the very least I need to learn what shadow teleportation can do. In the future, the integrity of my beloved skin and the virginity of my equally beloved ass will depend on the skill of escape.

The last gift from the System was a very ambiguous title, which seems not to give any permanent bonuses, but at the same time can bring a lot of benefits if only used correctly.

And perhaps I was one of the few (could there be anyone else among those summoned who was suitable?) who could make use of the prospects opened by the title.

Soul of a Mocker: You are one of the few who is accustomed to looking for someone else's pain points and hitting them as hard as you can with gusto. For justice, for your own convictions, or just for fun, you've come a long way from being a scavenger afraid to face your victims, capable only of insult, to a true maestro, capable even of gracefully dipping your opponent's face in the dirt. Bonus: you intuitively sense a way to poke fun at your interlocutor, whether with harmless irony or extreme sarcasm.

Well, Kostik, would you like to congratulate yourself?

I've officially been titled a real Trololo, only in reality. I hope I don't turn green and get fat. Better to be slick and thin than fat and banned.

If used correctly, it can both help pull off important negotiations and piss off an overly cautious and quiet opponent. Personally, I'd rather have an extra bonus to my stats, but the reward I get isn't useless either.

So what do I have in my status?

Name: Konstantine

Race: Human

Level: 19

Titles: Hero; Silent Assassin; Night Master, Thunderstruck; The Legend Seer; The Legend Killer; Withstood; Sighted Mentor; A Persistent Guy; Those who've seen a lot; Soul of a Mocker

Characteristics Points: 15

Class Points: 8

Characteristics (standard):

Strength: 70

Dexterity: 115

Endurance: 75

Perception: 86

Concentration: 70

Energy: 114

Characteristics (class):

Shadow: 45

Dreams: 4

Inspiration: 7

Class: Lord of Shadows

Rank: 2

Basic characteristics: shadows, dexterity, perception.

Abilities:

Shadow Control: 5/5

Allows you to masterfully control shadows in your field of vision, giving them full physical embodiment; shadows can freely take solid form and are suitable for creating obstacles and barriers; the range, speed, control, and stretching of shadows is greatly increased; shadow density is greatly increased; shadows can inflict energy damage and impose effects that reduce target characteristics; wounds from shadows are worse; with maximum tension and concentration of the shadow on a certain area, you can turn the shadow into a door to another plane; increases the Shadow's characteristic by +5.

Shadow Sense: 5/5

Allows you to sense all shadows within a large radius; allows you to clearly sense shadow movement and affiliation; allows you to control shadows freely even outside your direct line of sight; allows you to sense invisible persons touching shadows; allows you to see and hear through shadows; shadows within your perception zone are easier to submit to your will; shadows can point out targets you highlight or dangerous to you; if you wish, you can hear voices of shadow inhabitants distantly and vaguely; increases the Shadow characteristic by +5; increases the perception characteristic by +5.

Steps of the shadows: 1/7

Allows, with time and effort, to step into one shadow and out of another by walking on the edge of the shadow plan; the step distance is short, but the time, effort and concentration are considerable; of little use in combat.

Stealing of the shadow: 0/7

Summon of the shadow: 0/7

[undisclosed]

Bonuses:

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

Dexterous: Dexterity grows faster.

Shadow Seer: Allows you to apply a special type of vision that allows you to superimpose the shadow plan on reality; allows you to see through disguises, obscurations, and illusions; the power of the gaze depends on characteristics and class ability development.

Blood of Shadows: Other blood flows in your veins, giving you a piece of its power; increases the characteristic of Shadow by +5, makes it easier to communicate and negotiate with the inhabitants of Shadow.

[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: 2/5

Allows you to create relatively complex alchemical compounds from available reagents by instinctively understanding the creation process; allows you to more precisely regulate the desired result and vaguely understand what case a particular reagent is suitable for.

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.

The Legend Seer: The Skin-Taker, or, as the local tribes call him, Sa'Shai Garhmnul, very rarely shows his face, and even more rarely leaves those who see him alive. In any case, you were among those who survived the encounter. Luck or stupidity, we can't let something like that go unrewarded. Bonus: +5 to all stats except class stats.

The Legend Killer: To become a Legend, the Skin Taker lived a long life and shattered countless lives of strangers. But all his power didn't help him when he met you. Luck and stupidity, we'll say, but we'll give you a reward nonetheless. After all, it's not every day someone proves that even Legends sometimes die. Bonus (halved): +5 to all characteristics except class, +1 free ability point.

Bone strengthening (common): makes bones stronger and more resistant, allowing you to better tolerate stress.

Combat Concentration (common): makes it easier to stay focused on something during combat or other active actions; pain and injury have a reduced chance of interrupting caste.

Perfect Coordination (common): gives perfect coordination and fine motor skills; allows full control over your body; slightly reduces the effects of stun and trauma; makes it harder to use lie detection and cold-reading skills on you

Withstood: You stood alone, or in a very small squad, against an enemy outnumbering you in numbers and levels, bringing death to all life. We have no idea if you have brains or where they are located, but we give you a reward just in case. Bonus: +5 to Endurance and Dexterity.

Sighted Mentor: It's hard to keep the line between helping wimps gain combat experience and not letting them die in the process. Not everyone has the patience and skill to do this, but you do. Bonus: +5 to Perception.

Active enhancement (common): allows you to increase your strength by a quarter once every three hours, for forty minutes (depends on magic stats), after which it rolls back, reducing your strength by half, for an hour.

Magic thickening (rare): increases the effect of spells and slightly increases the reserve; significantly reduces the cost of creating spells and increases protection against negative magical effects and curses.

A Persistent Guy (epic): you haven't wasted a single point by reaching your full potential, only to then start investing in it. Foolishness or farsightedness? We don't know, but we're rewarding you just in case. Bonus: +5 to all characteristics, except class characteristics.

Those who've seen a lot (legand): Most mortals live and die without ever meeting a Legend. Some are unlucky enough to meet one, and then their lives are cut short. Few could boast of what they had seen. But you defied the laws of statistics and common sense. You managed to meet three legendary monsters in less than a month and survive each of those encounters! Your fearless folly is rewarded! Bonus: +5 to all stats except class stats, +1 free ability point.

Soul of a Mocker (unic): You are one of the few who is accustomed to looking for someone else's pain points and hitting them as hard as you can with gusto. For justice, for your own convictions, or just for fun, you've come a long way from being a scavenger afraid to face your victims, capable only of insult, to a true maestro, capable even of gracefully dipping your opponent's face in the dirt. Bonus: you intuitively sense a way to poke fun at your interlocutor, whether with harmless irony or extreme sarcasm.

Skills:

Provocation: 26 (apprentice)

Running: 12 (journeyman)

Stealth: 51 (great master)

Swimming: 5 (apprentice)

Alchemy: 36 (master)

Herbalism: 27 (journeyman)

Gathering: 12 (journeyman)

Fishing: 14 (journeyman)

Spear Mastery: 3 (apprentice)

Infiltration: 26 (journeyman)

Danger sense: 49 (master)

Deathstroke: 41 (master)

Dagger Mastery: 51 (great master)

Hand-to-hand combat: 15 (journeyman)

Energy Flow Management: 37 (journeyman)

Two-Handed Combat: 21 (journeyman)

Throwing Weapon: 9 (apprentice)

Clairvoyance: 23 (journeyman)

Disarming traps: 18 (journeyman)

I'm growing up.

Soon I'll be a real macho, honestly. But seriously, I have really good characteristics now. I'm pretty much safe from all the legendary behemoths and summoned Heroes, and I'm pretty much safe from any standard enemies. I can kill whoever is weaker and run away from whoever is stronger. I'm probably not the strongest opponent under this sky, but I can be the champion of the universe for getting the fuck out of trouble fast.

The main thing is not to die early and do not be stupid in critical situations.

And now it's time to go to bed, tomorrow we'll be on the road again, and it will not be an easy journey.

The next three days passed relatively smoothly - all sorts of strange creepers almost ceased to be encountered. There weren't too many normal animals either, especially compared to the previous days, but there was enough food to go around. It is worth noting that I was finally able to learn how to cook food out of the prey I caught.

It wasn't that hard - on the sixth try I started to get it right. As I realized, on the previous occasions it was the trophy knife that I had used to skin and cut the meat. The goblin pick was perfectly suited to stabbing, but not to slicing. But the new steel picks were good at handling stubborn hare flesh.

Of course, the skins could not be taken off, because I spoiled them over and over again, but the meat could be cut without too much trouble. The presence of flint made it possible to build a fire without wasting the precious charge of a lighter, and even such a crooked cook as I was was able to cook the fillets baked in the coals.

They never gave me the cook's skill, though, which is kind of sad. On the other hand, as long as there is something to it, I don't care how good it tastes. After a full twenty-four hours on my feet, the only desires that remain in my tired brain will be the banal set consisting of "eating" and "sleeping." Stealth and a sense of danger had recently developed enough that there was no longer a need for constant monitoring of my surroundings. Even in my sleep, I could maintain stealth and subconsciously monitor the forest around me.

Great master, well.

I was subconsciously expecting some kind of cool title from getting fifty in skills, but nothing of the sort happened. I was just getting better at swinging daggers and sneaking around like a Nippon shinobi from a movie. No kidding - the knowledge I'd put into my head with my skills was really respectable. In fact, I have so much information sitting in my head and reflexes that it's kind of embarrassing. I guess the locals have to torment themselves and others for such progress in skills for a very long time, and I got everything in a month with a tail of real-time.

I don't argue, I had to survive this month, going over the edge time after time. But the result was inspiring, too, I couldn't say. I'd say something like, "It's good to be a Hero," but I wouldn't say anything. If it weren't for my heroism, I wouldn't even be here, and my head wouldn't be being hunted by everyone in the world.

I chew a little bit of burnt meat and carefully bury the bones, so as not to attract the smell of all the forest dwellers (good and not so good), and then I cover myself with a heavy cloak borrowed from Hans and go to the land of dreams.

I channel all the power of my underdeveloped dreamwalking class into seeing my home in my dreams. To meet my few friends and loved ones. To walk again through familiar streets.

We do not value what we have.

And only when we lose it we realize how much we miss what we've lost.

It was easy to understand the reason for my moping: if before I had neither the time nor the energy to feel sad and sorry for myself, now that I was sure of my survival, the longing for my old life hit me in full force. I didn't need magic powers, I didn't see the need for the ability to cut a hair straight through on the fly, and I didn't want the strength of a superman either. I just wanted to go home, to my old PC with a thousand times studied bookmarks in the browser, I wanted to make the world simple and understandable again, to have tomorrow the same as yesterday. I felt surprisingly bad at heart.

In the morning I would get out of my makeshift bed, swear at the morning cold, get my bearings, and continue on my road of adventure. Whether I like it or not, I am a Hero. And Heroes don't cry or grieve or get hysterical. Not because they are so admirably manly and brutal, but simply because with their lives there is no time for moping.

Tomorrow there will be new problems and new achievements. Working with class abilities, training special characteristics, like those of the Shadows. The constant road ahead, toward a goal unknown even to myself. Tomorrow I will forget my sadness, shoving it into the farthest corners of my memory and locking the contagion with a six-pound lock.

But today...

Today I want to be just a Kostya, a simple and understandable man. A man from whom nothing was expected in this world from the beginning, except a short life and a humble death. No one was expecting me here.

But still, I'm here.

That means that tomorrow I will wake up again as a Hero and go to overcome everything that will stand in my way. Simply because that's the way the world works, and that's the way I am.

Fuck it.

Today I'm dreaming about home.

A week after my subterranean voyage ended with a new forest voyage, I have to admit that I am once again in a swamp. This is getting annoying because the main problem with this kind of terrain is that speed won't help. I have to slow down my pace to determine the route carefully and not lose another set of belongings.

Undoubtedly, the shadow sphere helps me create a route with great speed, high dexterity allows me to go where I could not before, and advanced shadow control will easily get me out of any mire if I happen to fall there.

Except that the main problem is that, despite all the strength I've gained since my last attempt to conquer the swamp, I'm going to be covered up in crap anyway.

It's like a fairy tale!

Before heading out into the bogs, I decided to think with my head (purely for a difference, nothing more). My head crunched but came up with a sensible idea. It was to make more provisions, preferably storable ones so that I wouldn't have to ask myself questions like "where to get food" and "how to cook what I've caught."

The rest was a simple routine: kill the beast, gut the beast, smoke the meat of the beast. Repeat if necessary. I had to repeat it more than once, for my attempts at smoking were largely ridiculous, but increasingly sad. The first three attempts ended with spoiled meat and stinky smoked me.

I don't know why, by some miracle, no visitors came to check out the regularly rising column of smoke. I guess they thought it wasn't the meat that was being smoked here, but the woods that were burning. In any case, when the next batch was finally deemed suitable, packed in bags, and carefully wrapped in leaves so as not to get wet, I still went to conquer the bog.

I had a clear understanding that this bog hiking thing was going to end up pretty f*cked up.

But I'm a Hero, aren't I? So the voice of reason was ignored by me.

So it shouldn't come as a surprise that things didn't go quite as planned.

My path was exactly as nasty, smelly, and unpleasant as I had imagined it to be! Just as I had thought it would be! I'm not talking about wet feet and clothes all the time - although I haven't had to dive above the waist yet (the shadow sphere is power), thanks to the good choice of trails. I'm not talking about the whole squadrons of mosquitoes and other bloodsuckers that can threaten a person with blood loss or anaphylactic shock. I will not mention the incomparable smell of swamp gases, which makes you want to throw up your brain and completely deprives you of any appetite.

All I will say is that these swamps were alive.

If the first time I had to walk this kind of terrain I noted the gradually increasing magical background, now it wasn't just increasing. It was going up, bitch, on redbull wings and farting thrust! And along with the background grew the local inhabitants, so much so that it looked as if they were eating exclusively infused with radioactive waste!

When I was attacked by some translucent thing in optical camouflage that looked something like an orc, only impossibly stupid and much more agile, I simply blew its head off with shadows, kicked its skull with my foot, and moved on. It wasn't as easy to see in the sphere as the orcs, of course, but it was only a little harder, and that's why I spotted it early.

When a giant toad tried to catch me from fifty meters away with its sticky tongue, as if written out of a fantasy about the inner amphibian, symbolizing the universal greed of any sentient creature, I was not too worried either. The toad was also cut open by the shadows and left to swim belly-up, attracting even more predatory inhabitants of its native biome to smell its blood.

After I was attacked by a swarm of huge mosquitoes, apparently possessing swarm consciousness and a hunger for my meat, I shuddered, of course, but I covered myself and the swarm with shadows, taking them all in a kind of bag, after which the aggressive energy of another plan dried this entomologist's nightmare dry. My sense of danger worked perfectly, which is why I managed to react in time without getting a single bite, which would surely have been poisonous.

The moment I was about to be devoured by a living tree was saved only by a danger sense and the sphere of perception. Despite the perfect camouflage, making the tree monster virtually indistinguishable from an ordinary tree even through touching shadows, the moment it began to move, I spotted it. I jumped away, swore, and, purely out of vindictive motives, destroyed the thing with shadows. But that was when I began to suspect that it would not be easy for me. I also began to use the Gaze from time to time, so as not to miss such a poo again. It helped me twice, by the way.

The next twenty-four hours were just that - full of problems, creatures attacking me, and other crap. I took level twenty, bringing my spare points to twenty, and my class points to eleven. I didn't spend any of them - then, I had enough strength and skill to ensure that I could come out of dangerous situations victorious and uninjured. I preferred to wait until I had enough points to get another bonus and invest them in their entirety. And the class can also be improved if you're not lazy.

But the problem was that there was no end in sight for the locals! Constant tension, demanding attention and focus. Some of the creatures were able to see through my concealment. For the first night, I lay down without even the thought of normal sleep, speeding up sleep with the talent of a dream walker. I slept without any sudden attacks, but half an hour later I was attacked by an owl. I don't know what Hogwarts it came from, but its wingspan and crystal claws, which even cut through stones (I checked!) made it an ideal letter carrier. I killed the creature and ripped off its claws and beak for reagents. It had already accumulated a rather heavy purse of them, but I had to sit and stare silently into the darkness until morning.

Meanwhile, in the darkness, all kinds of monsters were eating each other. The screaming, the growling, the rustling, the whimpering: it was like I was in a slaughterhouse in a B-grade horror movie. The constant royal battle had only ceased by morning, and probably not completely.

If it weren't for my damn stubbornness and my unwillingness to admit my error in direction, I would have turned back and tried to pass through the green-skinned lands. With my camouflage, I didn't have to be afraid of the plain and simple savages. Unlike the locals, whom I am afraid of.

Stealth, by the way, also grows in such conditions, even though it has already advanced to the level of a great master. With such a rhythm of life and constant contact with all sorts of predatory crap, its growth is not surprising at all. Rather, the slowness of the progression is surprising.

I could sense the creature, albeit vaguely, and so I was ready for its rapid attack. The giant reptile hiding at the bottom was very inconspicuous and had it not been for the shadows, I might have missed it. In the sense of danger, it appeared only just before the attack, and before that, there was only a slight, anxious feeling of approaching trouble.

With a surge of mud and slime, several tons of toothy hunger and hatred rushed at me. The only way I could dodge it was to thrust into the hardened shadows, so I wouldn't have to roll over in the mud. The first attack was followed by a hellishly fast tail strike, which I no longer dodged. Instead, I attacked with the two shadow blades that had grown from my daggers, literally cutting off the beast's tail.

The monster possessed some sort of resistance to magic, or I could hardly explain why the lash I'd sent after it could only leave a long but shallow wound on this crossbreed of viper and crocodile. To my deep regret, the sneaky bottom-dwelling shit did not continue the fight, but simply dove into the mire and swam in the opposite direction from me. I thought about killing it through the sphere, even though it was much harder to do under the surface of the swamp. But it was eaten by some other creature. And it was much bigger than that.

I shook my head, looked wistfully at the fleshy tail of my unfortunate prey, and moved on. I was bored with the meat I had saved, and it would soon go bad, but I did not want to attract the attention of the locals with a campfire and a barbecue.

The road is waiting.

The high perception allowed me not to lose my direction even when the sun was almost hidden behind trees and bushes. Alas, the swamps were turning more and more into a swampy forest, making me curse all the dark gods together, threatening the universe with all kinds of punishments and promises of torn thighs.

The gods and the universe did not respond to my threats, but my clothes were slowly wearing out. I had a spare set, but I didn't put it on. It was easier to wait until I had at least a relatively clean area to change there and wash the dirt than to change clothes now and get them dirty to the same condition in a couple of minutes.

The creatures seemed to have calmed down a bit, attacking far less frequently than before. Either I was camouflaging better, or there were fewer of them. The latter was more likely-the deeper into the marshes, the farther from the edge, the rarer their inhabitants became. But don't worry, the small number of local creatures is more than offset by the increased individual strength. I haven't encountered any monsters below level twenty-eight. On the other hand, no one ever made it past level thirty-six, and the giant tortoise that I encountered, at that level, wouldn't pursue me. Though I bet this Tortilla could have caught up with me!

I found the small island in the middle of the impassable mire solely thanks to the shadow sphere. Forty paces wide, a few trees, and the stone remain of a house to shelter me from the wind and the gathering rain. Dry and solid ground under my feet-what else do you need to be happy?

In the shallowest place, I had to walk almost a hundred and fifty meters of the three-meter-deep mire, which made the place extremely unattractive to ninety percent of the wildlife. I had to walk on shadow stilts, but that was no big deal. The main thing was that I reached the place and did not find anyone there.

The first thing I did, of course, was to check the ruins, so as not to run into another necropolis. The ruins turned out to be the usual ruins of a very old house, if not ancient. Old stone, one and a half remaining walls, a piece of roof and, you would not believe, a three-meter-high stone tub, filled with mud and slime up to the limit. But no subterranean rooms and no suspicious magical bursts.

I finished by almost sniffing every rock with my Gaze, finding nothing again. After that, I began to clean up. I took off my dirty clothes, cleaned the fireplace, and gathered enough firewood. There was a surprising amount of firewood on the island, as well as plenty of stones for the fireplace.

Then I started to make a huge shadow bucket, which I used to scoop out the mud that filled the small pool. The smell was not very pleasant, but I managed. Immediately after throwing out the garbage, I began to clean the walls of the stone bath, making the shadows as aggressive and rigid as possible, so that the mold that had grown into the stones evaporated, scattering ashes. A tenth of the reserve was spent, but now I could really wash in that tank. If I had water.

Use the mythical Shadowlord class to filter the water out of the nasty mire? That's about me, no doubt about it. I had to struggle a lot before I could make a filter out of the shadows, but it worked. After passing through the extremely dense filter, the water became as crystal-clear and cold as Arctic ice. As I realized, too much of the energy of the shadow plan that the liquid had soaked into made it not quite a water. Or not water at all. If someone, puts their hand in the filled tub, they risk getting an extremely reluctant burn and some kind of curse. Assuming they had a hand left at all.

On the one hand, this mixture will easily dissolve any dirt on my body and clothes. On the other hand, it would easily dissolve the clothes itselves. And to bathe in it myself... It's cold!

I decided to rinse once, though, just to get the dirt off me. It felt indescribable, like being poked by needles and then put in a freezer. But there was no dirt left at all.

After some time spent digging through the bag of reagents. The decision was made to build a Jacuzzi. What? Am I isekai here or not? I want a Jacuzzi so I can lie in it and soak in hot water.

That's it!

The full power of my alchemy class was thrown into solving this problem. This was the most important mission, requiring the organization of all my talents and resources. I accepted it with a proud head and a pure heart.

The first thing I did was to figure out a way to rid the water of the residual shadow energy that turns an ordinary bathtub into some kind of portal to hell. Seriously, just imagine a rocky hollow with crystal-clear water that, however, has no visible bottom. You know it's there - literally a meter and a half away, but all you can see is a [censored] dip into a bottomless abyss. Something tells me that when you dive in here, you can dive into more than just a bathtub.

I found a way to solve the problem rather quickly: a few herbs, a piece of horn from one of the creatures I had killed in the woods, a couple of scales from the tail of a lizard, and I had a powder in my hand that the system called a weak, medium-class magic negator. I poured it into the water and watched as the waves rolled over the perfectly flat water, after which the liquid ceased to emit an otherworldly coldness and I could again see the uneven bottom of the stone bath. It seemed that not only had I cleared away the shadowy residue from the water, but so had the material of the bathtub.

The next problem was water heating. I had to make some crap that could not only boil the water but also keep it at a normal temperature. But first, I had to get water into flasks, since the water was now ordinary, but very clean water, which was a pleasure to drink.

To create what I needed, the remains of some napalm-spitting slime, also found in the woods, were the most suitable. When she died, all that was left were pebbles of some sort. Some kind of gemstone or gastric stone.

If only my senses were more formalized because right now I only have a vague intuitive understanding of what can be done with these ingredients. But nothing at all about exactly how to make it. I relied on the great and mighty god of Random and began to mix the mixture.

The first attempt came out with a fire! Literally, with fucking fire! The liquid burst into flames in contact with the air, and only a danger sense allowed me to throw the rapidly warming lump of Hell into the swamp as quickly as possible. I saved my hand and was able to watch the burning mire.

While it was burning, I managed to make a second attempt. This time the result was not so unstable, because the flammable liquid did not catch fire in my hands. But it was still not what I wanted. Pouring the results of my labor into the same mire, I began my third attempt.

This time I used not only my hands but also a small wooden shot glass. I gave myself a mental scolding for not asking the guys for the thing earlier. And for not properly checking the bottom of the bags, where it lay. On the other hand, Losius hadn't taken it out of his duffel bag, and I wasn't going through other people's stuff.

I don't know if it was the result of the cookware or just my luck, but after ten minutes of agony and swearing, a few dozen pebbles remained at the bottom of the bowl, which should have heated it to a proper temperature when in contact with water.

The pebbles, along with a set of remedies and cleansers, went into the water, and I started to make a fire and catch my supper. The meat I had smoked before the swamp had, alas, gone bad quickly, becoming inedible. I sacrificed the result of my cooking research to the mire and caught two big snakes two meters long. By cutting off their heads and gutting them (it was much easier than with hares), I managed to roast snake meat on the coals.

It really does taste like chicken, they weren't kidding on TV.

The weather was rapidly deteriorating, about to rain, but I didn't care. I'd already built a small shelter in the only surviving section of the building, and I'd covered the fire, too. I don't know who you were, the former owner of this place, what race you were, what kind of life you led, or how you died, but thank you for your home and your bathtub, without which my life would have been much sadder.

I was lying in warm, almost hot, water, chewing on a poor snake, tossing aside the bones, and I felt really good. If the weather doesn't improve, I'll have to sit out here, taking a break from all the trouble I'm in. The swamp creatures do not come crawling in here to this island - some are scared off by the mire, and those who could cross it do not seem to be interested in me. The only danger is aerial attacks, like the night owl whose claws and beak are in my bag now, but I'm picking on that. I couldn't possibly find a safer place in this swamp.

I was in the bathtub, and I couldn't help but glance at the only piece of clothing I had left on me, the useless Perverted Mentalist Ring. I don't know if it's fate or a curse, but I haven't met a single female in all my misadventures. Even the goblins and orcs, which are supposed to exist, have never been seen. It's not that I'm so crushed by the lack of women - with the strain I regularly endure, I simply don't have the energy, not to mention the time, to satisfy my desires.

No, of course, I don't mind meeting a lonely elf-woman (or maybe not elf) in the marshes... But honestly, I'd rather make a deal with one. It's not that I haven't had a chance to browse the Saimin-hentai topics - I'm a 2chan veteran, after all - but in real life, I'd rather do without that kind of crap.

And there are no elves, no humans, no goblins, no orcs, or any other female on these marshes. The local fauna would devour them without a chance. So my mythical handmade artifact can only play the role of annoying jewelry, which I can't even throw away.

By the way.

There had to be some new abilities as levels increased. At least there was something undisclosed in the ring. I'm twenty now, almost twenty-one. Wasn't there some kind of gift, like calling up a rain of fire or something like that? I know in my mind that if there's anything there, it's just some bullshit, but you can't help dreaming.

I look at the description and nod satisfactorily. There are two new abilities, which can't help but make me happy. And not sad at the same time, yes.

Perverted Mentalist Ring (Mythical)

This ring belonged to one of the greatest mental-mages in the universe, absorbing some of his experience and skills. This mage was known for his power, but he was remembered for having a huge harem of women no less powerful than himself, who were completely loyal and obedient to him.

Properties:

Indestructible: The object cannot be broken.

Non-redeemable: the item cannot be lost, sold or stolen.

Mythical: it's a very cool artifact, be proud of it.

Granted abilities:

Subjugation of women (active): pointing your finger at any female of equal or lower level, you permanently turn her into your most loyal servant and slave. Does not work on those whose class is a higher tier than yours. Activation is instantaneous, takes 24 hours to recharge.

Incurvation of beauty (passive): any individual subjected to this ring acquires a relatively pleasant and desirable appearance (depending on the victim's original race), whatever that appearance might have been before. Even goblins or trolls. Activation is triggered by Subjugation skill. The transformation lasts anywhere from a few minutes to 24 hours, depending on the target's external parameters.

Admin, you bitch! (active): when this skill is activated, all system administrators within a radius of one kilometer experience a sharp stomach upset. If there are no representatives of the specified profession nearby, the skill finds one on its own within the whole universe. Activation by the phrase: [I hope you’d shit yourself up there!], reloading one minute.

Female Corruption (passive): adds a varied set of skills and titles aimed at corrupting a subordinate female artifact.

False awesomeness (active): increases the hero's level by 15 for a few minutes without adding any other bonuses. If the ring is used under this enhancement, the subjugation is applied normally. When boosted, subjugation has no effect on legendary and mythical individuals and heroes and can be blocked by a defensive skill. Activation by the phrase: [I am cooler than I look], recharge one month.

[undisclosed]

Honestly?

It's an improvement from what it is to what it isn't; it's useless, for Christ's sake. No, I'm not arguing, maybe I'll build myself a goddamn battle harem later, but I still need to live long enough to see that light of day. The level booster's fine, but it's not likely to get anyone really strong. Let's say I'm at level twenty now, which means that with the boost activated I can get a level thirty-five spherical elf in a vacuum. The problem is that at these levels, most of the opponents are not ordinary or even rare classes, so forty percent of the women would simply ignore my artifact.

I'm guessing that I won't be able to subdue a spherical elf of, say, level forty-five - if she doesn't have a legendary class, she's guaranteed to have protection, no matter if it's her own or an amulet.

No, logically I understand that this skill was given to survive the initial levels by subduing a cute tank, which will protect me. At level 20, yes, with a boost, I could get myself a pretty strong and loyal ally. The keyword is "could," for, by the time I get to civilization, this ability became useless.

Fuck! Admins, the System, God, and everyone who hears me! Maybe you can take pity on me and send me a strong and powerful young lady to try out your gift on her. Preferably one that can also tank, because I'm kind of flimsy! And bigger tits, please!

No?

Well, ok.

I'm angry not even at the ring, but at my bad fate, but it's normal anger, motivating. And I'm too happy to warm my bones in warm water to spoil my mood with pointless butthurt. The first rule when confronting a troll is don't feed the troll. Well, I'm not going to feed them all.

The first raindrops hit my face, almost imperceptible in the steamy clouds rising from the tub.

And I felt someone's gaze on me.

I didn't jump out of the bathtub and look around wildly but instead began to probe my surroundings with the shadows. There was no one on the island, I could vouch for that with my bells, but the marsh and the shore, I wasn't sure. The marsh itself, surrounding the island, was too saturated with magic to feel it properly, but with what I could, I couldn't feel any movement in it, either. As for the shore...

I could not feel with my shadows who were hiding there, only felt a faintly localized presence. The shadows did not sense this observer. A definitely stealth skill, and not weaker than mine, although it works on different principles. I had the feeling that the sheer energy of the swamp was blocking one of its children from my view. In fact, only thanks to the increased concentration of this energy in a certain area was I able to locate the approximate location of this stalker.

The feeling of an alien gaze was gone.

Suddenly I felt very uncomfortable.

The rain continued to drip, gradually turning into a downpour.

This time there were no thunderstorms, no deadly birds, just thick clouds and streams of moisture pouring down. If I hadn't intended to spend a day or two on this island, I had no choice now. Walking through the swamp, in this weather, and with a strange person paying attention to me... That would be a sign of mental illness.

After dragging my body out of the tub, writhing from the cold rain and the sudden temperature change, I shoved my belongings into dry corners and hid in my hiding place. Only I still had to wash the dirty clothes I hadn't gotten around to.

While I was scrubbing away the dirt and sludge in the fabric, I continued to watch my surroundings without stopping to monitor them for a second. I paid particular attention to the spot where I had last sensed an unknown observer.

It wasn't even a danger sense, but rather trivial common sense. He, or whoever was watching me, clearly knew how to not only hide but also to deceive the skills of danger sense. It's banal logic, nothing more.

And okay, if that someone just left, but what if he decided to catch me for a late dinner?

It got dark and the downpour subsided a little, but the rain didn't stop, causing visibility to drop to obscene levels. It was the best atmosphere to be part of some horror movie with myself in the lead role.

Anyway, I was tired of staring into the darkness, waiting for the unknown. Whoever that observer was, he was long gone, apparently.

I covered myself with the cloak and went to sleep.

Recently, since that bad day when my adventures had just begun, I had become accustomed to one extremely important thing that saved my life more than once. This rule could be summed up in one simple phrase: If your gut is screaming that your ass is about to be fucked, then react first and think later.

In fact, it was the flash of danger that warned me, saving my skin from an ignominious death in an unnecessary fight in the middle of a godforsaken swamp.

Before I was fully awake, I went into a somersault, and immediately found myself in a fighting stance, daggers in hand and shadows dancing in anticipation of the fight.

And nothing.

Silence.

Only in the sphere did it feel like someone had managed to cross the island, passing just past where I'd been while I was asleep. I would have thought I'd caught a glitch from the snake meat, but my cloak, which I'd dropped in a somersault, had four straight cuts on it, as if from someone else's claws. I couldn't see in this darkness, but the shadows were probing the gaps.

There is almost no rain, only the quiet rustling of the wind.

And fucking silence.

It was as if there was no one and nothing.

It became very scary. Whatever was hunting me now was too stealthy and too dangerous to dismiss the worry on the spot. It might have been weaker in direct combat, but here, in its native element (and why else would the marshes cover this mysterious stranger on their own?) such a thing could cut me open faster than I could react.

Bad.

Very, very bad.

I stand steel without changing my position for a good two hours. My high endurance allows me to ignore the cold and mud. The stalker did not show himself in any way.

I stand and wait, even though he may have long gone off to look for other prey.

Somehow it reminds me of an article I once read about sniper duels when it is not clear whether the enemy was actually there, whether he retreated, whether you imagined it at all. In such cases, they wrote, the winner is the one who shows more composure, not revealing his presence to the last moment.

My intuition tells me that this bastard has a lot of patience.

Still standing, but now I'm not just standing, I'm slowly pretending that I'm losing my focus. It's really hard to demonstrate, to play the part of a fairly tired person, and to do it in such a way that I don't get distracted, don't let the fatal blow come. A drop of sweat slowly runs down my back, even though the weather is not conducive to sweating.

When I was one step away from freaking out without pretending and going to sleep, I finally noticed something. It was the same heightened cluster of swamp energy-soaked magic, almost imperceptible, but very unpleasant, coming at my back. With great difficulty, I suppressed the instinctive urge to tense up and continued to play the part of a gradually relaxing man.

And I almost die again, when without the slightest sound, inaudible, like a rustling wind, something climbs out of the mire behind my back and, shielded from me by the wall of a half-destroyed building, sharply approaches and attacks me with a long, clay-covered paw.

I dodge and even manage to counterattack with my shadow lash, simultaneously raising every damn shadow beside me. I need to keep this thing from getting away, or it will wait it out again, and it won't make the mistake of finishing me off a second time.

The blade's shadow leaves a shallow cut on the paw, and the other shadows cocoon the swamp monster's enormous, at least three meters tall figure. I was beginning to celebrate my victory when I was nearly killed by a stone thrown directly at my head, forcing me to retreat, and the creature continued to lash out.

I was just about to start a shadow mixer when I caught a small branch with my sternum, nearly shattering the cocoon altogether. There's a gap in the dark clouds for a second, and some moonlight falls into it, showing me the creature that attacked me at last.

A huge, [censored]-looking pile of muscles and limbs, moving in a completely inaudible fashion. Even now I could hear no roar or howl, only the heavy breathing of the creature trying to free itself.

I'd almost - I would this time for sure - regained my balance and put my full reserve into the attack, when my attention was distracted by the golden glow emanating from my ring. At first I was just distracted, and then, when I realized, I nearly lost control of the shadows. Is that supposed to be a woman?

Meanwhile, the beast had managed to tear the first layer of shadows and almost tear apart the second, ignoring the relatively weak attempts to cut through its tan skin. I attacked in earnest, trying to cut the limbs, but it had the same effect: the creature's skin seemed to dissipate some of the shadow energy, severing the bonds between the individual elements of the cocoon. And the wounds that I was able to inflict were no problem for the monstrous creature.

I suddenly realized that I had a good chance of dying now. What followed was the result of panic, my past thoughts about the ring's uselessness, and the desperate idiocy that sometimes works where no amount of military prowess would help. In one second I can think of a plan and imagine all the horrors that would happen to me if it didn't work, and then I put it into action:

"[I'm cooler than I look]."I'll have to say it before I point my finger at the creature that had already broken free and was rushing toward me. I noticed that it was still rushing toward me silently.

There was just enough time to make a long jump with my back to the front, and then I caught another golden flash and looked with a kind of indifference at the fingers with long and thick claws, covered with some dirt, flying straight into my face.

Boom.

And darkness.

I woke up because I couldn't breathe, and there was some stinky stuff in my mouth and nose. To my surprise, I knew instantly what had happened, despite the terrible pain in my traumatized head. What a stupid way to die, though, drowning in the mire after all the f*ck I'd been through.

I felt myself being yanked out of the swamp by the scruff of my arm, nearly snapping my neck as I was being yanked out. A second of hovering in the air, a fleeting sense of flight, and a hard landing with my ribs on some rocks.

With great difficulty, I held back a painful cry. It's not often that I've been in pain, despite my very intense life under a new sky. I cough up the dirt I'd almost choked on.

At last, I am in relative order, and I can look up to the one who pulled me out of the mire. Into which, let's say separately, she herself had thrown me.

I expect to see an enormous fear*bomb, but reality deceived me because I saw an [censored] of *fucking f*cking hell!!! The very real [censored] f*cking shit multiplied by ten and raised to a certain degree. Did I say something about orcs and goblins being too ugly? Guys, forget those words, for both of the creatures I had previously encountered, were naturally cute, handsome, and 100% macho in comparison to what was revealed to my unfortunate eyes.

A good three and a half meters tall, with dark green skin, almost [censored] in the moonlight. The whole hide was covered in ugly spills as if she had leprosy and pussyfucking crap all at once in the final stage. A big, rounded, sagging belly, sticking out forward (how did it ever manage to move so fast with such a "beer barrel"). The long arms, reaching almost to the knees, were wrapped in ropes of steel muscle, and the thick, long fingers bore the claws I was already familiar with. The head was covered with long, shoulder-length, dirty, stiff hair, and it was hard to make out small, very deep-set, dark eyes, almost completely hidden behind the brow arches.

The jaws resembled the mouth of a cachalot. The fangs, protruding in all directions, were not much inferior, if any, to those of whales. The creature's bite must have been the nightmare of a speech therapist and a dentist at the same time. The rest of the smaller teeth were also arranged randomly, and something told me that a bite with that jaw would tear the hell out of anyone.

The picture that would give me nightmares for a long time was completed by the horrible growths, which, according to the idea of the bastard who had created this fucking thing, were supposed to be tits: elongated, hanging almost to the belly, and of different sizes. My eyes nearly bled at the sight of them.

And then it smiled on me.

And I remembered that my ring makes the bearer of the artifact very attractive to the victim. After that, your brave Hero, the future conqueror of the world and the toughest hitter within a radius of a hundred kilometers... He shrieked like a white nerd at a [censored] queer convention and had already felt the hot breath on the back of his neck and the strong male limbs on his ass.

I ran straight into the mire, while managing to create stilts and other shadowy support, thanks to which I was able to develop a very impressive speed, and also thanks to my high dexterity.

I had a whole night ahead of me, and I wasn't going to stop until I had run at least twenty kilometers.

* * *

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