Chapter 13

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The road through an ancient swamp, proudly alone, and the journey through it in the company of its native inhabitant are two incomparable quantities. Where I dulled, she stepped without a second's hesitation; where I slowed to plot a route, she didn't even consider the choice of the trail; where I retreated, she somehow found a way through for both of us.

And the most important thing was her fighting ability. You know, when I thought she was a walking banhammer for almost anything... I was absolutely right, for she was often just enough to kill anything that didn't run away in terror from our company. And no one did, because we were as invisible and inaudible as the night itself. Silence, darkness, fog, and our couple walking inaudibly through the fog.

The reserve was slowly emptying, but not as fast as it could have been. I only had to help myself a little with the shadow prop, to speed up my pace a little, to nudge myself in the back, but the effect of that help was overwhelming. I didn't have to fight at all, because Ygra could do it all by herself, not even giving me a chance to think about my plan of attack. One blow delivered without coming out of concealment, and another nasty thing spills its guts all over the place.

She even managed to chew on little things on the move, but she tried not to touch the big creatures at all. I mean, she didn't fight them, just avoided a possible enemy and attacked them only as a last resort. I'm just saying, she's been hunting her whole life, not grindin'. If she's full, why kill someone you can kill and eat later?

Most of the attackers were just losers who got in our way. The few who did notice us almost always ran away on their own. Only a couple of times we got some really brainless things. Well, you could only pity them - a master of hand-to-hand combat, but with such power, and with claws... It had never needed a final blow. I now understand her high level, for I've never met anyone who could stand up to her in this land. Of course, I hadn't seen all the locals (and I thank my balls) but I could tell the fighting characteristics of most of them with a fair degree of accuracy. And most of them were no match for my killing machine.

We ran for quite a long time and would have run some more, but I didn't have the endurance to compete with my beastie. Therefore, when we managed to reach a small island of land, though larger than the previous one, and with the remnants of some buildings, I gave the command for a halt without hesitation. I had barely a fifth of the reserve left, and it was painful to waste it further, and I wanted to rest, too.

The ruins were ordinary stones, both in the shadows and in the Gaze, and there were no voids, so I set about setting up camp. Ygra, by the way, watched me make a fire with great surprise. I just sighed heavily: she doesn't know fire yet, at least she's not scared of it.

And immediately the images of clairvoyance came to mind. Swamp ogres did not know how to make fire, but they often kept it alive in the tribal settlements if they could find coals after lightning strikes during thunderstorms. Sometimes such fires went out, but more often they burned for centuries, over which more than one generation of these creatures succeeded. They rarely roasted meat, preferring simply to warm their heavy bones by the fire. They also sang by the fire.

In the periphery of my consciousness, I even heard the distant echo of strange, alien, deep, and very sonorous songs sung by these creatures with their tinned throats. If the vague image is to be believed, then their rib cage serves as another resonator, which is why the songs of the swamp ogres must be extremely entertaining music. When you hear it, you'd better run as fast as you can.

The only pity is that it's out of season. Or rather well, as my clairvoyance says, because this is the time when the whole tribe goes hunting in droves. And I was probably very lucky to catch a single Ygra, and not a couple covering each other, which they sometimes do, too. And what would have happened if I had run into a tribal camp...

No, only the elderly and the little ones live there all the time. Those who are still too weak to hunt, and those who are already too weak, but still have no desire to go on one last hunt, from which they never return. All the adult members of the tribe, the only ones in the whole swamp, roam alone or in pairs, giving themselves to their one passion. Swamp ogres live by and for the hunt, nothing more. So I might have escaped from the camp, but I would probably not survive the well-coordinated roundup of the strange stranger that followed.

The blood pounded in my head, and a slight pain spreading from the back of my head indicated that this time my clairvoyance had taken me too far. I wonder if this is my way into the infosphere of the universe, or what? And isn't the uncharacteristically rapid development of what I believe to be a very rare skill a consequence of my dreamwalker class? I'd have to put a lot of effort into studying it as well, but when would I have time to do all that?

Ygra left to hunt, instantly disappearing into the swampy mire, and I began quietly preparing to cook whatever she caught. Somehow I was not the provider in our pair, but I was the one who had to do all the cooking. Such sad thoughts, however, do not prevent me to gather more dry wood for the fire, breaking even the lower branches from the trees, if they were dry, and then starting to burn the branches for charcoal. I want a barbeque today, and I'll get it just as I got a Jacuzzi in my time. The power of the isekai is unstoppable the moment he goes down the road of comfort for his dear ass!

The huntress returned from the hunt, carrying on her shoulder the weight of a lizard-like creature that resembled something I'd seen before, a creature that had once left its tail for me. It carried a huge pile of bones and meat, weighing at least a ton, without any problem at all, as if it did not notice the load at all. It certainly has a tremendous amount of power.

I look away, realizing that her passive ability is causing me to stare at the wiggling tits again, and then I point silently at the small area suitable for carving the carcass on it. Did I clean the place of twigs and dirt for nothing? The ogre still dropped the carcass silently, leaving it at my mercy. My intuition told me that she thus acknowledged my right to be the first to eat the prey. Yay, Mom, I'm the Chief now! The giant green woman obeys me!

The lizard had no open wounds, as it had simply broken its neck with one sharp blow. I'm sure he didn't even have time to notice. I'm the only one who's so lucky and alert that I can spot a swamp ogre on the prowl in its element. It's something to be proud of when you think about it.

I cut a few of the most appetizing pieces with my daggers, trying not to get dirt and other crap on them. I even used a flask of water to rinse the meat. I leave the carcass to Ygra and return to the fire, trying not to hear the crackling of bones and the sound of tearing muscles behind me. If she were hungry, I would have to worry about the integrity of my or my nerves.

With the accompaniment of Ygra's meal, I began to cut the meat into smaller pieces suitable for shish kebab. If my dexterity weren't so high, I'd probably mess up somewhere. I throw the meat into the pot, which was left to me, just not to stain it, and then I throw in a few spicy roots. These roots are supposed to be reagents, but my alchemical instincts tell me that they are more valuable as spices. After marinating the meat in the resulting mixture, I begin to slice it into thin sprigs, vowing to kill the local swamp if I don't make a tasty dish.

The swamp is safe because my culinary endeavors at least smell good. So tasty so, that it attracts even the ogre, who has already had time to devour, and has begun to confuse my brain with its pheromones again. After swearing, I recreate my mask and try to restrain the vicious and monstrously strong child of nature.

"No. You can't! No, I said no! Hands off! Hands off, I said." Honestly, it feels like you're talking and yelling at a disobedient child, so eager to stretch out her grabby hands to not yet ready yummy treats.

Surrealism it's.

Ygra takes offense, looks at me with a pitiful look, tries to steal the roasting meat from the concealment, and just gets annoyed, winding circles around the fire and the working me. The flickering green silhouette in my eyes makes me dizzy, but I remain as adamant and unwavering as a tax inspector's footsteps. A couple of times I even had to hit those grasping hands with a shadow lash. And if at first, I tried not to hit hard, then, when the first blows were ignored, I hit quite hard. It would have just ripped a man's arm off, but it didn't even penetrate her skin, it just left an abrasion.

I ignore the attempt to buy me with the puppy eyes (this performance from this booby looks brain-dead), then move on to the final part of the cooking. I squeeze the juice of some swamp lemon onto the pieces of meat. It may be reddish in appearance, but otherwise typical citrus with a very sour taste. Not quite a lemon, but not so bad.

The smell of roasting meat is becoming so delicious that it penetrates even through the filter, and Ygra is just silently and uncontrollably watching my hands. It feels as if the process of cooking has really hypnotized her, for the expression on her face is even more lost and dumb than usual.

"That's it. Go wash your hands and eat." I don't know why the hell that phrase came out of my mouth. I was thinking of the days when I had to watch my nieces and nephews when they were young.

"Ygra eat!" This creature of God smiled with all its teeth (but what kind of God create it, I wish I knew), and then stretched out its dirty hands to the roasting meat.

"Hands. Clean. Then eat." And swing threateningly with power-filled shadow to affirm the threat. The hurt look is ignored, as always.

"Y-y-y-y-!" A crying ogre pulls.

"I don't want any "Y's" here! Wash your hands. Clean! Cleaning! Come on, come on! " Still, the craving for yummy treats awakens an incredible learning ability and stimulates the brain even when it's completely absent.

For a moment Ygra stood motionless, and then all the crap stuck on her began to fall off abruptly and without warning. Right on my shish kebab! I'd never built a shadow barrier so quickly, not even with the creatures that lived in the underground lake. The shish kebab was saved, and so were my clothes, which was a relief.

I use a thin sheet of shadow to collect the suspension in the air in a bag of shadow, and then I throw it away. The dirt-free Ygra looks much nicer to the eye than it does when it's on the road. The smooth green skin, the massive chest, the firm belly, and even the ropes of muscle don't spoil the impression so much. Yes, she has, after applying the skill, even her tresses have settled into a normal hairstyle! If only I could tie them in a ponytail with some rope so that I could bend her over and hold on to the ponytail and fuck her straight...

The mental smack I gave myself brings me out of my binge mode again, and I return my thoughts to his majesty shish kebab. It seems that after this trip, I'm only going to go bankrupt on a visit to a brothel. I have other things on my mind right now - it's a feast of the belly and a symphony of taste.

"Here." I hand Ygra one of the homemade skewers, taking the other. "Eat."

I was savoring my portion one bite at a time, but the ogre just threw it all in her mouth at once. At least I was smart enough not to eat the twig itself, which she nonetheless took a bite of.

"Yummy!" She murmured blissfully, probably tasting properly cooked food for the first time in her life.

"That's it! It's not like eating raw chupacabra! This is the triumph of civilization over your barbaric way of life. It is thanks to the desire for comfort that people have been able to achieve so many things, you know?" I did not forget to reduce my portion of deliciousness in my monologue.

"Y?"

"Fuck yeah, Kostik, you should start talking to trees, too," I said a little disappointed, and then I gave her another portion. "Here, eat it and don't spill it all over yourself, child of nature."

"Ygra yummy!" And she doesn't need anything else to be happy. It makes me wonder about the necessity of higher nervous activity. She has as many brains as bread, but she's happy beyond measure. I have thoughts, problems, and heroic status, for Christ's sake. I'd rather stay on these fucking marshes for the rest of my life. I've got something to eat and someone to fuck, so I won't be lost.

tear my eyes away from the ogre's swaying chest with irritation, noting the beginning of the impact of pheromones even on the body strengthened by heroism, so I take two more skewers of meat, put the mask back on, and leave the remaining almost a dozen to the "young growing body". At least let someone be happy on this day because I have completely ruined my mood. And, bitch, with my own hands!

"The rest is for you. Eat." I ordered, and I went to the other side of the islet of land in the middle of the swamp.

"Ygra! Y!" The ogre begins to eat the remaining goodies slowly, one bite at a time. She tasted all the splendor of a slow meal after all.

I was sitting on the edge of a small island of tranquility, munching on roast meat, looking up at the very clear sky with the full moon in it, and... not even sad, just thinking. I am in such a hurry to get out to the people that I am beginning to forget that nothing good awaits me there. Only new problems, new battles, and new personalities, eager to kill me a bit. Or worse than killing me.

And unlike the half-intelligent orcs and the unintelligent undead with the monsters, these guys will already be intelligent. They're not the first generation of isekai like me to get into the meat grinder. And it's unlikely I'll be able to surprise them in any way. It's more likely that if I were to stand up to the well-established mechanism of destroying the summoned, my end would be predictable and unfortunate.

I am not the savior of the world. This is not the usual "I'm not really a hero" from books and light novels, necessarily pronounced with pathos, gushing, and demonstrative indifference with a mandatory admixture of teenage maximalism. Rather, it is a banal statement of fact. To break the local system, you need someone with a pure heart, an enormous mind, monstrous cunning, and inhuman luck. Someone who will be much better than the ordinary, scrupulously good-for-nothing me.

I heard a slight rustle next to me, and a satisfied Ygra leaned over me and began to mesmerize me with her watermelons that were almost in my face. It's hard to judge her desires by her appearance, but her next phrase puts everything in its place.

"Wanna-et." Prolonged and chesty, this sentence of hers seems more appealing by the second.

Apparently, she hadn't understood her desires until that moment, and she still doesn't. Either she wants me, even though I'm not her fellow ogre, or something else. The main thing is that now she is quite lustful.

It would be ridiculously easy. All it takes is a little longer to look at the two dark green nipples fluttering in front of my eyes. All I have to do is dispel my mask, take a few deep breaths, and go. I was going to have to put a shadow bag over her head, though I doubt I'd care about her face an hour from now.

And just stay here.

To live as she lived. Stay away from the rest of her tribe, or even subjugate the remaining females in it, and then just live. To hunt, to survive, and to rejoice in the very fact of being. Not to think, not to decide, but just to exist. To spit on all these problems, to spit on the gold and glory, which in fact I do not need, to spit on the system and grinding... Don't care about anything.

All you need is to make one single decision.

With a quiet rustle, the real world drains away from me like raindrops, and the body lying on the grass falls completely into Shadow. I am greeted by the same colorless landscape, the same cold and howling of many voices, the same small shadows hiding from the light of the moon in the darkest corners. The cold and the sucking emptiness, sucking out of me not only the heat and the reserve of energy but also something else, something very important.

I slip out from under the perplexed looking at where I should have been, and then in two steps I reach the nearest large shadow and with one touch I turn it back into the door.

One more heartbeat and I'm already standing in the real world. The wind rustles, there are sounds from the depths of the swamp, Ygra sniffs resentfully, and I go silently into stealth and go to sleep. I do not doubt that the ogre will find me easily in the swamp. Nor do I doubt that she will follow me. Nor that my decision has not offended the creature at all-she is too simple to be offended by such, from her point of view, trifles. I didn't agree to take her now, so I will later. Or I wouldn't, but I could think about that later, too.

It's too easy to live like this.

It's too easy to become simple oneself.

I am certainly not a Hero in any place, except for the title, of course. I am regular office plankton, an Internet buff, a board dweller, a moderately thick troll, and a vicious copyright violator. The only positive things I could say about myself were my trivial efficiency and the ability to do well what I get paid for.

No one pays me to be a Hero.

No one paid me to solve the problem of the summoned, whom I never even knew.

But in the same way, no one will do this work. And all I have to do is the same as when they leave me alone with a bunch of tasks that can't be undone, and everyone else has already gone home...

To silently solve problems, and then to take those who had screwed me over by the balls and demand a bonus along with a pay raise. And also a case of beer, of course, what could I do without it? It was not always possible for me to do all of the above. I've been screwed over with pay and sometimes had to resign with a scandal, but the second thing I appreciate about myself is that I can always shit on the person who shit on me.

Therefore, get your bones and go to make plans for world domination, Kostik!

Because there's no one else to make them but you.

Because without you, nothing in this world would change.

Heroes will continue to die, scum will continue to celebrate another successfully transplanted class, and everything will be as it was yesterday.

You can call me a dumb idiot who looks for problems, and you would even be right in your judgment.

Nevertheless, I am sure that to leave such an order of things intact would be... wrong.

Fuck, for the first time in my life, I'm ready to curse the moment I chose my hearing-improvement bonus. Moreover, I would even be willing to turn off the shadow sphere if I could, of course.

The point is that the over-excited Ygra, not getting what she wanted from the proud and adamant me, decided to take matters into her own hands. Not in the sense of clubbing me over the head and snoo-snoozing me, but literally into her own hands. The loud (relative to my ears) chest moans, along with the image of the shadow silhouette of the ogre, which was now rubbing her crotch, while caressing the hardened nipple with her other hand, were a sight to behold. I couldn't see it with my eyes, but my imagination, bitch, was quite capable of completing what the shadow could not.

The moment Ygra got tired of constantly flitting between her two breasts and putting the other nipple in her mouth, I realized that if I didn't fall asleep right now, I would probably have to "take matters into my own hands."

What happened later was almost as sudden for me as my entry into this world. Seriously, I didn't even try very hard to do anything. Or rather, I didn't. I did try to fall asleep as quickly as possible, I even did some kind of meditation, while trying to reach for the dreamwalker's ability to make it easier to fall asleep.

And then boom!

And I'm already asleep. It was as if I had just blinked and found myself in the shaky reality of Morpheus. The familiar image of the purple and mauve void that I was used to in my lucid dreams, which was not yet clear and full-fledged, slowly morphed into some room from my life on earth. A mall, if I'm not mistaken.

This is how it always happens: if I don't try to create the decorations for my dream myself, my subconscious will create them for me. Since today I just wanted to sleep it off, I made an effort to erase the unformed image, sinking into a cozy, dreamless slumber. I hope that if anything happens, Ygra won't sleep through someone else's attempt to eat me. However, now she not only has the opportunity to oversleep the attempt...

In the morning I already had the funny message in my status:

Send a dream: 1/5

Allows you to instantly put yourself into a dream, as well as a clearer sense of the boundaries of reality and dream; with some effort you can enter the dream of an intelligent being next to you if it itself is asleep.

How interesting it is, though, Kostya. It looks like you have something to do even at night and in your dreams. No fucking rest for the poor and exhausted isekai.

"I think the asshole hated me for something," I said at the same time as I ducked, narrowly missing the big log that had nearly smeared my skull with a friendly slap.

The very same asshole who threw that log at me really disliked me a lot. Like a passion boiling, at first sight, blazing like three hundred supernovae. Or like one of my jet-powered farts. No, I understand that he had no reason to like me at all, especially after my shadows blew off the tip of his too-long nose, but not that much!

And how well it all started.

I perceived swamp ogres as the apex predators of this area, and I was largely right. Among the common creatures, members of this small tribe were the strongest species. But in addition to certain kinds of creatures, there were also such wonderful things as unique creatures in these parts.

That is, creatures grown under the influence of free magical energy or because of a breakthrough of some other plane of reality, which had no analogs among the flora and fauna, remaining thoroughly unique. Of course, uniqueness does not mean personal awesomeness, because many such creatures were, at times, no better than the average local creature. However, there were exceptions, such that even the ogres had to silently and quietly run away in the opposite direction from Mister Uniqueness. If they could get away in time, of course.

The creature we found was pretending to be nothing more than an island in the middle of the swamp. It was ten by ten meters, perfectly round, dry, and covered in grass. Not a bad place to take a breather. If not for my intuition, which told me and Ygra at the same time not to go there, we might have run into trouble. We just looked at it silently from a distance, trying not to get too close.

There was something in the shadow sphere, something vague and unsteady. I had no idea what Ygra felt, but there was something there, too. The Gaze, on the other hand, showed the strange island as a purely black shell, covered with drips of congealed blood. Already that was enough to make me chicken to go near it. Except that the thing was blocking with its carcass an extremely convenient path that could save almost half a day's travel time, so simply turning around was not an option. Or rather, it was only a last resort.

It didn't respond to pebbles thrown at it.

And my whispered swearing.

I didn't want to send Ygra to risk my guide, either, because she's strong, but she's not omnipotent. I was afraid to try to go in the stealth myself, and what was I supposed to do in that case? Put a pile on the shell? That's always welcome if it helps, but I doubt it helps. Certainly not in this situation.

A brief rummage through my bag turned up a couple of alchemical reagents suitable for making a small bombshell. More like a powerful firecracker. It was literally two seconds' work, honestly. Did the deed and tossed it on this island. First one, and then another, with a little time between throws.

This was not foolishness, as it might have seemed, even if it was a bit overconfident. Still, our skills and levels were high enough that we could be confident that we could at least run away in terror, if not win. So, throwing bombs, I was prepared for a lot of things, but "prepared" was the keyword.

The throw was very successful, I would even say critically successful. The first firecracker scattered the grass on the surface of the shell, but the second for some reason did not explode. One, however, was enough to make the creature startle, stretch, and stand up. At that moment, I'm sure, the textbook "oh, fuck" thought not only me but even Ygra, which is significant.

Imagine a ninja turtle, only with a perfectly round shell with two legs and two arms sticking out of it. And on the belly of this turtle, you can see the head of the innocent murdered Pinocchio, which for some reason was glued there. I don't fuck how this thing eats and even exists, because its body construction is the dumbest thing in the world. Even dumber than Ygra!

And it was just at that moment that a forgotten and unexploded firecracker rolled off the shell right on top of Pinocchio's head, and then exploded right in his ear hole. The wild buffalo's loud and indignant scream was my reward, and well, we started playing tag team for survival. Fun game, developing!

In fact, it was not as bad as it seemed. The creature was, of course, very dangerous, level forty, and generally impressive. But it wasn't a legendary beast, just a powerful swamp monster. Nor was she invincible. Alone, she would surely have managed to crush both me and Yggra, if for some reason we had decided not to run away but to fight. But the two of us stood a good chance of bringing her down. Well, you know what they say about big closets falling the loudest. So here, it's the same song.

So we didn't run away but instead began to methodically corral the enemy, beating the crap out of him. The role of bait fell to me almost immediately. My first blow with my shadows sliced off the tip of Pinocchio's nose, marking me as his mortal enemy forever. After that, all I had to do was dodge the enemy's powerful, but not-so-fast blows. He used no special abilities, and the only way he could fight from a distance was to hurl heavy objects in my direction.

The main problem was to keep him from catching me while keeping his attention while the claws of the silently assisting ogre knocked chunks of bone armor from his legs. Silent, fast, instantly attacking, and retreating, she remained completely invisible to the frenzied foe. Literally! I mean, he'd swung back a few times when he'd been hit, but his demeanor suggested that it was me who had done the painful attacks. He was even more furious, wanting more and more to punish me.

And what about me?

Nothing!

They told me to run, so I'm running. His strides are very wide, so he can easily catch up with me in a straight line, especially if you consider the depth of the bog, on the surface of which I glide, using the shadows. So I'm not running straight ahead, constantly looping and changing direction. If it weren't for the triple-fucked...

"You big motherfucker! Fuck you!" I barely move my head away from some big rock, no other way than from the very bottom of the swamp lifted, and then I speak out again. "FLŰGGÅůNK∂€HIŒβØL∫ÊN!!!"

Yes, the situation is far from hopeless, but this circus with colorful horses and meat pies made of them will not end soon.

The sun was rising in the zenith.

Two levels!

I was given two levels for four and a half goddamn hours of continuous chasing by that creepy turtle! I almost died of thirst and fatigue. I was able to get the bastard closer to the hard ground, which allowed me to use my powers more sparingly in the use of shadows, but it was still very hard.

Also, even my meat-destroying machine didn't want to eat the meat of that thing. No, the levels are very cool, of course, but not to the point where I have to kill myself for them! Couple more of these fun-fucking events and I'll get pinholes in my eyes and a craving for Kimchi as well. I still want to revenge on Bobik, but still not that bad.

The ogre only got one level, which made me a little sad-she could use a class point and improved hide hardening to increase her survivability. Not that I cared about her, but...Well, what the hell, I was worried about that dumbass, because it's hard not to worry about someone who's totally loyal to you. Even if that "someone" almost fucking killed you first.

I also managed to get a title, unfortunately not a legendary title at all, but a plain and simple "rare" one. My hours-long game of bait wasn't wasted! No, really! I thought this was going to go on forever. If Ygra hadn't broken the monster's left leg in half. And, silly fool, it was broken so badly that the bastard had lost his balance and was falling right on top of me! If I hadn't used the shadow steps, I could have died. Luckily I was able to escape at the last moment, having spent the rest of my reserve. So now I was grimly wiping bloody snot and chewing cold meat to regain my energy.

Marathoner: You've been in battle for a long time against a difficult opponent. You were tired, exhausted, depleted of reserves, but you continued to fight stubbornly, refusing to acknowledge your weakness. Such tenacity and fortitude are worthy of reward. Bonus: +5 to endurance.

It wasn't too bad, because they could have given me nothing, but I was more worried about something else. I'd taken the fifty-point milestone in Shadow's characteristic. And if I had just achieved it, I would have been given a choice of two medium lousy bonuses, chosen something that wasn't completely useless, and then I would have gone with the flow.

The problem was the choice of the bonus itself, both of which couldn't be called unhelpful in any way. On the contrary, I wanted to take the System by the throat and immediately start demanding everything and more. The only thing that stopped me was the total futility and considerable danger of such actions. I had not forgotten about Bobik, and even after many hours of grind, I had not turned into a Korean to threaten him.

I look again at the blinking sign, rereading for the umpteenth time the gingerbread they're promising me. But they would only give me one of them, automatically depriving me of the chance to choose the other. And the choice must be made now.

The Shadow's characteristic has reached 50 points! Choose a perk!

- The Blessing of Shadows (epic; one-time);

- Shadow Awakening (epic);

Help was kind enough to give me information about both options, though it didn't make me feel any better. A blessing was a very useful perk and an instant one at that. With this blessing, I was instantly getting one in each class ability now and would have a slight chance of getting a bonus point when investing in a shadow class in the future. A very cool one-time booster, with little room to spare for the future.

On the other hand, there was a much less useful Awakening in the short term, which didn't seem to add anything, but simplified shadow control by a certain amount, depending on the level and value of the Shadow stat. Not very useful right now, but it'll be a good help in the future. The main bonus was that it would make it a lot easier to talk to Shadows and demand obedience from them. I would have to pay less to those who still had no power to demand it, and they would be less likely to resist my will.

Both class bonuses deserved epic status, both were extremely useful, and both were mutually exclusive. I almost had to flip a coin, but the decision was made nonetheless.

I chose the long-lasting effect. If something happened, the points I'd accumulated would give me a sudden boost in strength. My green savage would help me get out of the swamps, but it would be more useful to invest in the future. It was a choice I regretted, but I didn't think it was wrong, either.

"That's it, Ygra." I slowly rose to my feet, feeling the reserve gradually fill up. "That's it for today. We'll find a dry place and rest. On the road tomorrow."

Of course, she didn't understand me, but I didn't need to. I just wanted someone to talk to other than myself. I was able to pretend that I was almost a normal person and not a slowly going crazy idiot. The road to the nearest dry area was visible through the sphere, but I had to walk there on my own feet. I would have had my pet carry me, but given her fucking pheromones, and the fact that they were much more potent when directly on my skin, after ten minutes of walking, I would probably learn the new meaning of "fucked in the ears".

So fuck it, we're walking.

And we don't take off the mask either!

Already lying on the cold ground next to the smoky and rather shitty warm fire (the wood was damp, but there was no other), I began to distribute the characteristic points, which had already accumulated enough to get the third bonus for a set of one characteristic. A hundred and fifty points in a single stat were supposed to give me a lot, but I still didn't know exactly what I needed to develop. Dexterity seemed to be enough for now, and I had no complaints about the reserve, either. No, I was exhausted from time to time, but it was not because of the small amount of energy, but rather because of the excessive use of it.

I would have preferred the reserve boost, but I wanted to develop concentration too much. Bringing this stat to a hundred would be a huge plus to combat efficiency - using shadows at high speeds would become many times easier and more understandable. And there are even enough points for that - exactly thirty points. Whereas for the dexterity and energy upgrade it is necessary to take a couple more levels.

I decided.

I will develop up to a hundred the concentration.

I'll just wait until my reserve is restored after my repeated rolls with multiple subwinks today. I have a suspicion that putting points into this stat at the full reserve and relative health will be much more effective than just blowing it as it is. Not clairvoyance, but a logical conclusion based on my experience with agility and energy. And I'm used to trusting my logic, even if it limps on all limbs. All the more reason that a short wait would not make anyone worse off.

In the three days since acquiring my new dreamwalker talent, I hadn't been able to afford to try it out. I wanted very much, but the daily exertion and the pace of my guide's movement required constant assistance with shadow manipulation. And by the time we went to bed, there was no more energy left to work with dreams. If controlling one's own dreams was still relatively simple and straightforward, and most importantly, required little or no investment of energy, then to penetrate someone else's dreams required a lot of reserves. And to spend considerably, even taking into account the increased reserve of magical energy.

How was I supposed to work with this from the beginning, when I had the characteristic at twenty points? System, aren't you out of your fucking mind? And if I had chosen to grind dreams instead of shadows, what would have happened to me? Although the answer is clear: I'd be fucked.

Today was the same story as yesterday, the day before, and the day before that: there was no more energy left to get into my dummy's dreams. In any case, when I get to civilization, I'll have to do it more thoroughly. No kidding - it would be a very relaxing and profitable grind that would require nothing more than regular, healthy sleep. But not until later, when I can safely sleep under that sky.

A yawning but damn contented Ygra, who appeared to be fondling herself again while I slept, rose silently and galloped off into the mire in search of breakfast. Her love of self-satisfaction doesn't really bother me, it just pisses me off a little. Now every morning when I wake up, I can only be glad that I didn't dispel the mask of shadows.

With the endurance of this novice nymphomaniac and masturbator, she can easily pleasure herself a dozen times a night. And she does, I must say! And given the amount of pheromones that this kind of activity releases along with her juices and sweat, breathing this air without a filter is a straight path to getting the title of "Ogre Fucker". To be honest, it even bothered me somewhere how quickly the ogre was addicted to fondling: instantly gaining a level thirtieth skill in lovemaking obviously extended to self-care as well. And with that skill, she could really develop an addiction to her daily "moments alone." Or rather, not alone, as she unashamedly put on a free show for me without even realizing it. Swamp child, fuck, no shame!

It's good that every time she cleaned her body with the skill - it was more pleasant for her, and the dirt did not interfere, - so as not to traumatize my psyche and potency with a nightmarish spectacle.

After shaking my head and throwing out the image of a bulging green ass, I open my status, and slowly, slowly, I put all thirty points into concentration, bringing it to a hundred and opening the possibility of obtaining a new perk.

The characteristic concentration has reached 100 points! Choose a perk!

- Natural control (rare);

- Perception of the flow (rare; active);

The Perception of the flow was, as the help told me, a very useful sensory skill, allowing me to sense magic and other stuff at quite a considerable distance when activated. The problem was that shadows did the same thing, only at a shorter distance. But permanently, without wasting energy, and with much more detail. Getting this was part of my doctrine of being an Ultimate Running Champion, but it didn't match up well with my shadows, so I didn't go for it.

The Natural control allowed me to perceive my magical energy as another limb, which should help me not only with shadows but also with alchemical potions and even with dreams. I chose it, and I didn't regret it, though it took me an hour to get used to the new sensations, which were somewhat similar to the perception of my sphere, only directed inside my body.

In the meantime, I made a fire of dried firewood and started to cut and fry a bunch of snakes that the self-satisfied Ygra had brought. It seems that I have succeeded in instilling in her a taste for properly cooked food!

Progress, fuck!

We set out half an hour after we'd eaten. We were still silent, gliding silently across the swamp, like two weightless shadows. At such moments, I felt almost meditative tranquility, when nothing in the world seemed to disturb you. Only measured steps and leaps and bounces. Concentration had allowed me to follow my companion without difficulty before, but with the promotion, and the new perk, I could do it without distracting myself from my thoughts at all.

So three more days passed.

And on the evening of the fourth, we emerged from the swamp forest to the edge of the forest, from which I could see a town standing a couple of kilometers away. It was a typical, medieval fantasy town, with high stone walls and a small line of wagons and individual travelers passing through the gates.

Well, hello, civilization.

You didn't wait for me?

Yet I'm here!

* * *