To this day, the glazed eyes and agonized expressions of the children of La’Solc Village haunt my nightmares. Though I was not there to see them die, I often dream of them screaming at me to help, demanding with the simple faith of a child in an adult that I save them from the darkness beneath their beds and the monster invading their homes.

They were not my children, nor did I ever meet them in life. So why do they haunt me so? A friend from Earth once confided in me that he had similar dreams of the children lost after Sublimation. His experiences right afterwards left him with nightmares that I believe now far surpass my own.

In a way, those children led me to one of the most fortunate encounters of my early days in the System. As that is so, I have chosen to thank them in my heart of hearts, hoping that even one as stained with blood as I can give comfort to those who died far before their time with gratitude.

The System is cruel in its indifference to the fates of the weak. As many have said, ‘The System is fair, but only a fool asks for fairness if they understand what it means.’

_____________________________

The next morning, Lyam woke with a spear poking his chin and sighed internally, I let down my guard. I guess I was more tired than I thought.

“Creature, what happened here?! Tell me what happened!” The brown-skinned elf male standing before me asked, his features twisted with rage and despair.

With an internal huff of annoyance, he blasted the elf off his feet with Psychokinesis, ripped his spear out of his hand, and pinned him to the thick branch that served as a support pillar for the tree home.

I then examined him with True Sight.

Name: Laevarian

Level: 14

Race: Wood Elf

Profession: Hunter, Guardian

Class: Elven Guardian (An Elven Guardian is one of those rare elves who have succeeded in some basic Mana Cultivation, thus strengthening their bodies against damage and enhancing their ability to strike)

Title: Guardian of La’Solc Village

HP: 1900/1900

MP: 1300/1300

Str: 14

Agi: 20

Dex: 26

Con: 14

End: 12

Int: 18

Will: 16

Cha: 20

Lck: 25

Martial Skills: Polearms 50, Bows 50

Magic Skills: Air Magic 10, Nature Magic 10

Spells: Windwalking, Wind barrier, Natural Healing (heals wounds, as well as purging diseases and corruption, ineffective against poisons)

Weapon Style: Elven Archery (Apprentice), Wind Spear (Apprentice)

Non-Combat: Woodworking 30, Herbalism 40, Mana Cultivation 20

Perks: Guardian’s Aura (decreases damage received while in a defensive stance by 10%, counterattacks deal 20% extra damage)

Racial Perks: Nightvision, Wood Elf’s Nature Affinity (allows Wood Elves to safely interact with non-hostile forest creatures and communicate with elder trees)

Talents: Spear Affinity (has potential to master the spear), Air Magic Affinity (has potential to master Air Magic)

Lyam yawned, “Well Laevarian, I can understand why you want to know what happened, but

I don’t like it when someone pokes a spear in my face. After seeing the aftermath before I decided to bed down here last night, I’m not in a good mood either, so forgive me if I’m a bit less tolerant than you would expect.”

Laevarian’s abilities were highly specialized, developed, and well-rounded. Lyam was fortunate that he’d spent the time the previous day to properly master Psychokinesis and increase his Gravity Magic to 19.

The elf’s features twisted in anger, “You examined me?!”

“Wouldn’t you, if someone poked a spear in your face? In any case, I had nothing to do with what happened here. I merely stumbled upon the aftermath and sheltered here for the night,” Lyam replied irritably. He didn’t bother compartmentalizing the annoyance born of being woken up so rudely. Laevarian was more likely to be a threat if Lyam displayed his colder aspect than if he showed his humanity, or so the former assassin concluded.

The elf was conflicted. In truth, Laevarian always tried to be fair when dealing with others, but he was still relatively young for a member of his race. The strange humanoid resting in the ruins of his home village was setting off alerts inside his spirit, something seeming terribly… off about the creature. Every part of his manner seemed genuine, and he was sure the creature could kill him with ease now that he had the advantage. However, on a fundamental level, there was something… dark about the man, an aura thick with death that held a subtle but intense pressure on his soul.

Lyam frowned internally. He tried to figure out why Laevarian was reacting so oddly to him. There was no easing of tension, though he could see the young elf was conflicted. Had something changed besides his race after the Sublimation? Something similar had happened with Tanya and her group.

Was he somehow failing to hide his predatory side? The concept was… disturbing. If that was true, he would have to figure out how to conceal himself before heading for civilization. He knew very well that the killer’s manner he only ever showed to his targets was not something meant for civilized interactions.

“Oh dear, I do believe I’m in trouble,” Lyam remarked, settling himself down with a sigh before releasing his hold on Laevarian, looking glum. Learning to hide his darker side, forcing it to only surface when needed, had taken him years. The idea of having to learn how to conceal himself further was… daunting.

The elf was confused. Despite the killer’s aura that wafted off the man like a fine mist, he could tell the other man hadn’t been aware he was radiating blood-scented death on the breeze. Most who managed to create such a dense killing aura would also knew how to leash it, keeping the darkness within concealed beneath the surface to some extent.

“What are you?” Laevarian asked, almost unwillingly.

“What I am is new to this world, and apparently this world has rendered my efforts to make myself seem relatively harmless completely useless,” Lyam replied sourly.

The elf’s eyes widened, “You are newly Sublimated? That would explain the sudden disruption in the forest’s mana...”

Laevarian now understood why his village had died. During a Sublimation, the chaotic mana created by the inclusion of a new world would transform many mundane creatures into ravenous monsters. His people had most likely never had a chance… villages and even cities often vanished after a Sublimation.

It was a bitter truth, but one made slightly more palatable due to its inevitability. His people had been peaceful, never really striving to level up beyond what was needed to fend off the local monsters. There was no way they could have fended off even one high-level monster created by a Sublimation.

He just hated that he hadn’t been able to convince them to struggle for more after returning from his travels. He’d seen the high level beings in other regions, and he had barely survived sneaking past the nests of monsters that could have killed entire cities. He knew how dangerous their world was and how ruthless the System was with the weak, something the elders of the village had long-since forgotten in their isolation.

Now his parents were gone, as were his cousins. Such a terrible, terrible waste.

He slumped as he explained to the foreigner, “A Sublimation naturally turns beasts at the edges of the Patches into terrible monsters, driving them mad with predatory lust. Dogs become Wargs, wolves become Demon Beasts, men become Demons… all to test those within and without, to force them to grow. It appears that my village paid the price for being unprepared.”

“I don’t suppose you have a suggestion about how to stop myself from making others uneasy? I spent years learning to get my darker side under control, but, based on your reactions, I guess I’m not hiding it anymore,” Lyam asked, feeling a bit depressed.

“You are leaking what is called a ‘killing aura’ or a ‘killer’s aura’. It is the aura of someone who has claimed many lives. If you learn to feel your aura, you can also learn how to subdue and release it as needed,” Laevarian explained, not having the energy for swearing vows of vengeance now that he knew the loss of his village wasn’t something he could avenge. For all his anger, Laevarian was far too practical to believe there was any meaning in opposing the System.

“So how might I learn to feel my aura? I assume it is different from mana, since I can feel mana to some degree since the Sublimation,” Lyam said.

“Yes and no. Aura is born of the detritus mana picks up as it escapes your body along with what scraps of your karma have been cleansed. If killing is a part of your karma, it becomes a killer’s aura, if you are a healer, your aura will be soothing and pleasant. It isn’t mana itself, but rather the impurities carried by it,” He responded. For a time, Laevarian had considered becoming a mana cultivator, and he had actually succeeded in rising several ranks, making himself more powerful than he could have been otherwise… but he’d hit a wall due to his elven body’s tendency toward stasis rather than growth.

“Could you teach me to control it? As it is, I wouldn’t be welcomed in any civilized area,” Lyam asked worriedly.

Laevarian ran his hands through his long golden-tinted brown hair, “I suppose I could, if you helped me give the village proper funereal rites. It would take me quite some time on my own.”

Lyam agreed readily, “So what do I need to do?”

Laevarian smiled faintly, “You won’t like it.”

_________________________________________

Indeed, Lyam didn’t like it. Wood Elves tended to prefer one of two funereal rites, traditional burial without a headstone or sky burial (or so the elf explained when he asked). The village he’d stumbled upon was apparently one that preferred the latter.

Laevarian and Lyam carefully carried the bodies out to the village’s sacred grove one by one, positioning the bodies in the limbs so they could be consumed naturally by the forest creatures. It was often gruesome work, as many of the bodies were already half-eaten or torn into several pieces.

It was dirty, sweaty, and smelly work that left Lyam mentally and physically exhausted three days later when they finally laid the last villager, a young female, out in the branches of an oak-like tree, her torn limbs splayed out, her empty eyes facing the heavens. Lyam was cold but he wasn’t heartless. He’d especially hated laying the children to rest, as it felt wrong to him to lay a child to rest in such a way, alone in the limbs of a tree instead of in the arms of a mother, alive and well.

Laevarian appreciated the strange humanoid’s dedication, those odd corneas filling with tears whenever he lifted a child into the trees, grieving for lost futures despite the coldness he could sense the other held beneath the surface. He was fairly sure the other man was unaware of how much he radiated his pain, and he was also quite sure the other man preferred not to reveal such things. It struck him that the strange killer probably wasn’t even fully aware that he was grieving for the children.

How much had life scarred this man that he could be so out of touch with his own nature? It worried Laevarian, as it said nothing good about the newest world to be added to the System’s domain.

A day later, they settled down in Laevarian’s own home, which he had taken the time to use his nature magic to repair. Even without a spell, it was possible to use the most basic nature of a school of magic to perform simple task, albeit with less efficiency than a perfected spell.

“Thank you for helping with the rites… my people will now be properly reborn in time, as long as

Wood Elves continue to exist,” Laevarian thanked Lyam.

Lyam shook his head, “I would have wanted others to do for me what I did for them. Thanks are appreciated but not necessary.”

Surprisingly, Lyam felt himself to be far more at ease now that the rites were over. While he had suffered when laying the villagers in the limbs of the trees, afterward, he felt almost… cleansed.

“That is the function of the rites of my people. In taking part in laying the dead to rest, we also are cleansed of something of the filth that has built up in us over time,” Laevarian said knowingly.

Lyam shook his head to clear his mind of distractions, “Now to teaching me to control my aura?”

Laevarian smiled slightly, “Do you have the Mana Cultivation skill? It makes this much easier.”

“I gained it when I gained my class. Apparently, it is necessary to cleanse my karma after using some of the spells I was granted,” Lyam replied.

“A Curse Mage perhaps? That is the only class I know of that uses mana cultivation for that particular need,” Laevarian asked, without judgment.

“A new class, apparently, called Curse Blade. When I was considering the possibilities of two different classes, I apparently subconsciously fused the two… and almost killed himself in the process,” Lyam replied ruefully, recalling the sheer agony of transformation that had occurred.

“A fusion class? Then… you gained a specialized class before level 10?! Oh you fool… I’m surprised you didn’t explode,” The other man said, shaking his head in a mixture of wonder and disgusted exasperation.

“It isn’t like I did it intentionally,” Lyam replied dryly, understanding all too well what would have happened if he hadn’t chosen a 2nd Tier Race when given the chance. The pain he’d suffered had far exceeded even his ability to withstand it, and the memories were… traumatic, to say the least.

“Well… don’t do it again! The System responds to the subconscious when you are making decisions like that, and if it likes the ideas that pop up inside you, it facilitates them. The System wants people to make more classes, discover new powers, and generally exceed its initial expectations. I’m guessing it rewarded you for the… accomplishment?” He queried.

“Yes, with two new spells… one I don’t think I could ever bring myself to use,” Lyam admitted. The Bottle of Worms spell was too horrific to even consider using.

“That will happen, with Curse Magic. Some curses are beneficial, but most were designed to harm others or gain power from harming others,” Laevarian said with an understanding nod.

It was interesting. Lyam had expected more of a negative reaction at the concept of his Curse Magic, but apparently, it didn’t bother Laevarian at all.

Laevarian seemed to sense his doubts, “In the System’s world, condemning magic simply because it is easily misused is rarely wise… well, except Eldritch Magic. That particular school always seems to turn the users into liches or abominations...”

“So magic usually doesn’t have moral connotations?” Lyam asked curiously.

“Some magic is considered too harmful to use, like Eldritch or Chaos, but the System thoroughly discourages cultures from developing ingrained prejudices against schools of magic, skills, classes, or professions. Cultures and races that stagnate have a nasty tendency of falling into ruin here,” Laevarian said, his eyes far away. He was considering the foolishness of the village elders in failing to recognize the need to push the children to progress and grow powerful. Complacency and the belief that it couldn’t possibly happen to them had doomed his home, to his bitter regret.

“So… some teaching?” Liam asked, trying to get back to the point.

“Ah yes, sorry about that. Activate your Mana Cultivation skill… you only have to do that the first time. After that, you’ll be able to cultivate without the artificial aids given by the System,” He said, looking embarrassed.

Lyam followed the instructions and found himself sitting in the seiza position his sensei at the Y had forced on him so many times during the free training sessions. He felt something… his mana? He felt it pour in from points all over his body, flowing into a dense core of swirling power just below his belly, catching on bits of… something as the flows were then expelled through his skin, through his mouth, and through his nose.

“Anyone with the skill can draw small amounts of mana through the partially-blocked gates and into their meridians. The excess, what your body and spirit can’t use, is then expelled through your skin and breath, along with any impurities it caught along the way. That stuff that comes out is your aura. To suppress your aura, you need to funnel that excess back into your body after joining it with the intake of mana. The impurities will be left on the surface of your skin, so you’ll have to take baths more often than someone without a lot of magic, but you won’t make people uneasy just by standing nearby,” The elf instructed.

He tried to get a grasp of what the other meant. He tried to ‘grab’ the aura being exuded from his body and redirect it back into the flow, but he kept ‘slipping’, the flow not even budging. He considered for a few minutes, wondering how to go about it, then decided to try willing the flows of aura to follow the path he desired, focusing entirely on where the flow needed to go in order to return the mana back to his body, leaving the impurities on the surface of his skin.

After almost an hour, his focus paid off, and the excess mana began to flow back into his body… but every time he eased up even a little, the aura began to return to the flow again.

“If you can hear me, at this point, I need to make a suggestion. At the moment you seem to be altering how your aura moves by force of will, but this is actually making you exude an even stronger aura than before, as the mana around you responds to your intent. You need to coax the flows to follow the paths you desire, so it is almost natural, so you do it in your sleep. Your aura’s natural tendency is to flow outward in a mist, so you need to make it so the mist naturally drifts to the points it needs to go,” Laevarian’s voice was more than a little exasperated. Apparently, Lyam’s clumsy attempts to suppress his aura were backfiring.

So instead of forcing the aura back inside, he decided to… convince it. In a moment of wild inspiration, he decided to split off a new persona, a part of himself that would soothe his aura, acting to suppress its effects on the world around him. With a wrench of pain that was felt in his soul more than his body or mind, he suddenly felt that other part of himself take new life, Eh? What the…!

New Spell Learned, Soul Familiar. By splitting a part of your soul and feeding your aura to the resulting existence, you have created a core that can serve as the nucleus for a summoned familiar. This is a form of Soul Magic.

Soul Magic Skill Acquired, level 1.

Quest Offered: ‘Make a Soul Familiar’. By offering up the core made of a part of your soul and your aura, you can summon or create a familiar who will be bound eternally to you, following you through all the cycles of reincarnation as your servant. The method by which you create a familiar is up to you. Rewards: Soul Familiar, Soul Magic levels, 1000-10000xp depending on results. Note: Soul Familiars cannot be truly killed as long as their master lives, but if they are killed, their masters suffer from immense pain and are weakened until they return.

Lyam opened his eyes in confusion to see a pulsating iridescent silver orb sitting on the ground in front of him. He could feel it absorbing the impurities and excess mana from his aura to sustain itself, and he could sense the hunger of the bit of his soul locked into it. Apparently, it would absorb as much of his aura as he exuded.

“Good gods, Lyam! What the hell did you do?!” Laevarian asked in stunned horror.

“… apparently, I created a Soul Familiar Core,” Lyam answered, looking troubled as he slipped the object into his bag. He was interested to see that his aura continued to flow to the orb, even inside the bag, telling him that the bag’s dimensional space didn’t stop the orb from fulfilling the function he’d originally given to it.

“You idiot… so instead of taking the time to master a meditative technique, you thought to just assign it to a part of your soul you split off on a whim?!” Laevarian asked, obviously annoyed after he explained the process.

“When you put it like that, I sound like a total fool,” Lyam said, protesting only mildly. At this point, he was fairly sure he was an idiot.

Laevarian settled down after struggling with himself visibly for several minutes, “Lyam, Soul Magic is one of the most dangerous – to the user – branches of magic in existence. It can do some pretty fantastical things, but it is a gateway to Eldritch magic if misused. While creating a Soul Familiar is something many advanced magic-users do – eventually – it isn’t something a beginner like you should even try to attempt. Not to mention you are feeding the impurities of your aura to it constantly, to who knows what kind of result.”

“I’d love to say that you were wrong… but I have always been good at compartmentalizing, so I assumed that I would be fine tasking a part of myself with the suppression of my aura,” Lyam replied with a sigh.

“Compartmentalizing?” Laevarian asked with some confusion. Apparently, whatever magic that allowed them to understand each other didn’t translate unfamiliar concepts.

“I essentially create ‘spaces’ inside myself that take on certain aspects of who I am. While I make decisions, depending on what the task is, another part of me becomes dominant while the task is being done,” Lyam answered, uncomfortable about revealing such an intimate part of who he was. Lyam often worried that he might be considered clinically insane, but his other personas never really ‘spoke’ to him… they simply gave him differing points of view he wouldn’t have considered otherwise.

Laevarian sighed, “A ridiculous skill that could be easily mistaken for madness… no wonder you were given a race I’ve never seen or heard about. Anyway, cut off the flow of your aura to the core. You need to learn to do it properly.”

Reluctantly, Lyam did what he was told, and they spent the next three weeks slowly mastering the skill of suppressing his killer’s aura without feeding it to the core. The core felt somewhat dissatisfied with this, but Lyam realized he needed to learn the skill, so he buckled down and got to it.

Mana Cultivation Skill has reached 20. You are now a Rank 2 Mana Cultivator. Your spells are 10% more effective. Your aura is now yours to control.

Lyam sat atop a limb in seiza just letting the mana in the air flow through his ‘meridians’, as Laevarian called them. He found that his mana core was growing larger as he leveled up the skill, which troubled him somewhat. He knew, instinctively, that if his core grew too big, his body wouldn’t be able to withstand it.

He decided to speak to Laevarian about the problem.

“You have WHAT?!!!!” Laevarian yelled the question, stunned.

“A mana core,” Lyam answered, confused.

“Lyam, mana cores are normally only formed when one reaches 40 in Mana Cultivation. As a Cultivator rises in rank, he will eventually store his consciousness in his mana core so he can achieve immortality. There are very few races who are born with mana cores… mostly because most races’ children cannot withstand the internal pressure born of a fully-powered ball of mana resting in their bellies. Your race… must be particularly powerful to make that possible,” He said, obviously envious.

“So it really is dangerous if it gets too large?” Lyam asked.

“Yes… but that is why you are supposed to compress it as your cultivation rank goes up, allowing a qualitative change in your mana as you grow more powerful. From the looks of it, your mana is still a mist with no droplets. Normally, in order to form a mana core, one must compress one’s mana into the mist stage, then form at least five droplets of pure compressed mana, which they then cycle until they come together to form a core,” He explained.

“If I had to guess, any droplets you formed previously have been absorbed into your core, causing it to expand. You need to get into the habit of cycling your mana while rotating your core, forcing the core to compress itself smaller and denser. The denser your core, the more mana that will be drawn in and the faster your mist mana will compress into a liquid,” He finished.

“I’m guessing by your tone that there is some kind of risk?” Lyam inquired, noting the faint unease that occasionally touched the elf’s visage.

He nodded, “Mana cultivation is a powerful tool. A mage that has cultivated their mana is more powerful than any mage who has merely leveled up. A warrior who cultivates their mana will find that their abilities and combat skills are more powerful, their attributes stronger than the numbers would indicate. However, if one fails at any of the critical breakthroughs, there is a strong possibility of death or permanent injury to your meridians, ruining or limiting your ability to use magic.”

“You’ve seen it happen before?”

“Twice, when I was learning from the Ice Dwarves in the Frozen Plains to the south, I saw young dwarves ruin their potential by hurrying through the stages. Cultivation’s benefits are great, but the risks are just as great, if not more so.”

Lyam closed his eyes and considered his current course. According to Laevarian, the partial cleansing of karma enabled through mana cultivation did not change based on the stage of cultivation. As such, merely cycling his mana on a daily basis would serve the purpose of cleansing the impurities that could be removed.

However, the lure of greater power, enhanced by his knowledge of how dangerous the System made his new world, made his decision for him, “I need power.”

The wood elf nodded slowly, “So do I. The beasts who destroyed this village will not return soon. They are wanderers who hold to no particular territory. However, they will return, and I do not yet possess the power to defeat them, even if I am careful and plan ahead.”

“You know what beasts did it?” Lyam asked, curious.

“Tree Drakes. A rare variant of lesser drake that wanders the forests of the world. They kill and eat any animals they discover in their path. The village was placed outside their migration patterns, but the Sublimation created several Raid Zones that brought it within their path,” He answered, looking weary. When he wasn’t instructing Lyam, Laedvarian spent much of his time out scouting the area.

“Then we’d best get going, hmm? We won’t become any more powerful just sitting here. At the very least, I would like to obtain a crossbow, as well as a few more spells,” Lyam said, rising to his feet, equipping his armored jacket straight from the belt.

“A crossbow?” Laedvarian asked, looking confused.

“Relying solely on magic for ranged attacks is short-sighted. I have trained with a crossbow before, and guns don’t seem very effective in this world,” He answered absently.

“If by ‘guns’ you mean muskets or pistols, then no, most aren’t. The alchemical reagents necessary for their explosive powders are expensive, and only specialized classes can utilize them effectively,” The elf remarked as a green hooded cloak and his longbow flashed into existence.

“But there are classes that can make them work?” Lyam probed.

“Gunslinger, Sharpshooter, and Gun Mage are the only ones I know of… and all three classes are specialized ones that require an archer or mage class of some sort as a prerequisite,” He answered.

“None of those are really my style, from the sound of it,” Just from the ‘resonance’ the System was giving him, he could tell he wasn’t suited for any of those classes. Guns were a convenience to him, not a passion or his go-to weapon.

“I didn’t think they were. You seem to prefer to be close to your enemies when you kill them,” The elf remarked. Laevarian didn’t mention that only men who killed up close had killing auras like that Lyam had displayed upon their first meeting.

“More like it is easier that way. I find it easier to control matters up close.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t pick a warrior class, then. It seems like it would be a good fit for you,” The elf commented as they began ‘tree-striding’, Lyam’s technique having been refined with his help to be much more mana-efficient, staying well below his regeneration rate for both mana and stamina.

“Warrior classes are too limiting… and I was given magic from the beginning. After experiencing the usefulness of being able to fly and piercing a Warg with a Gravity Arrow, it is difficult to justify giving up most of my magic to become a warrior or a Spellblade,” He explained.

“True, even Spellblades and Warmages lose most of their mana to passive boosts from their classes. I just didn’t think someone new to the System would have figured that out so easily,” The elf’s comment was devoid of the kind of arrogance one might expect from the words alone.

“I examined a few people who had warrior classes before I arrived here. They all suffered from disproportionately low mana pools in comparison to their intelligence,” He replied absently.

“Impressive that you figured it out just from that. Your race must have had a relatively high-quality educational system if you were able to extrapolate that much from that little information,” The elf remarked.

Lyam wondered at that. America’s educational system was crumbling for decades before he was born, and by the time he graduated from high school, signs of critical decay in certain subjects were starting to show in the early grades due to political interference.

“We did have universal formal education in my nation until we reached adulthood,” He replied, acknowledging that his education did play a part in how he was able to put together an idea of what was going on with the classes and stats.

“Ah, then you must have come from a technological society… Universal literacy is not something you see in societies based on sorcery or cultivation,” Laevarian said as he came to a stop in the upper limbs of a rather large oak tree.

“Oh?” Lyam raised a brow quizzically. He thought he could vaguely understand why, but he wanted to hear the elf’s explanation anyway.

“Magic and cultivation both require massive amounts of resources focused on a few individuals without the System’s aid. This requires an equally massive number of peasants – preferably ignorant of anything outside their small lives – providing those resources to those on the top. Longer-lived races can often get past this particular problem, but the shorter-lived races inevitably end up with a privileged class dominating every aspect of power,” He explained.

That was about what he expected, though the bit about longer-lived races sometimes escaping that particular cycle of nastiness wasn’t something he’d thought to consider.

And why was he having an intellectual conversation with an elf as they ‘strolled’ through the treetops? His lips twitched with amusement at the sheer absurdity of the situation, by the standards of his old life.

“So, what is cultivation about, anyway? Magic I can understand from books I read as a kid, but I only have vague memories of cultivation being mentioned in fiction,” Lyam asked curiously. While his skill let him cultivate mana, he didn’t really understand what he was doing. He was just going through the motions taught him by the skill itself and the advice Laevarian gave him.

“Worlds with cultivation that get taken into the System originally have their own type of power, which is focused on taking energy into the body and infusing it throughout the flesh and spirit. This energy is ‘qi’, an energy source that cannot survive the presence of mana,” Laevarian replied.

“What do you mean by that?”

“As it was explained to me, the System itself uses essence and diffuses it to create the mana we use. Furthermore, mana naturally devours any qi present in the world to transform it into more mana. Cultivation-based worlds generally do not fare well when they connect, though they generally adjust better than technological worlds that have no experience of magic,” Laevarian explained.

That last part was troubling… the indication that technological societies didn’t fare well when exposed to the System more or less echoed his worries about the people of Earth. While Lyam was not one to care about the ‘fate of the world’ or ‘the good of all man’, he felt a wave of sorrow at what was likely to happen to the vast majority of his fellows cast into this new world, even with the aid given by the System to newcomers.

“So, the System essentially adjusted cultivation to using mana instead of qi for cultivators?”

“Not precisely… from what I understand, a few cultivators from the first cultivator world integrated resisted the loss of their particular manner of growth and eventually managed to make the System acknowledge the ‘search for the Dao’, as they put it. That’s why we have the Cultivator base class now and why most magic classes now use some form of cultivation to strengthen their magic,” He said. It was obvious that Laevarian loved teaching his knowledge, and it struck Lyam that the vague alienation the elf seemed to feel toward his own species partly came from their rejection of his advice in the past. Bits and pieces of his resentment of this attitude had come through in the last few days, as he answered Lyam’s questions, and he seemed to seriously appreciate someone willing to absorb the hard-earned information he was giving.

Suddenly, Laevarian grimaced, coming to a stop once again, “System curse it!”

“What is it?” Lyam asked, his eyes searching the area for the source of the elf’s sudden reaction.

“I have to change my Class. The System indicates I no longer meet the conditions to be an Elven Guardian because I no longer serve a System-acknowledged elven village,” He replied bitterly. The reminder from the System that everyone he’d cared about seemed to be tearing the wound of his lost open even wider.

Lyam ran his clawed hand through his violet-tinged black hair, considering the elf and what he should say. He didn’t think that it would do any good to console him. Only time – and perhaps not even that – would heal those wounds. Not to mention that Lyam wasn’t really suited to that role.

However, Lyam could see the upside of the situation, even if the elf could not, “Then, since you don’t have any choice anyway, why don’t you find a class that fits you, instead of one those around you need?”

The elf blinked, staring into the strange creature’s all-black eyes. While his first impression of Lyam had been that the man was dangerous, more than a week in his company was bringing him to the conclusion that he was just… strange. While his words were pragmatic, they were also designed to break Laevarian out of the fugue he was beginning to fall into. It showed a level of personal concern he would not have expected from the creature, based on his aura.

However, it also fit. It dawned upon the elf that Lyam’s ‘compartmentalization’ extended to everything. Lyam was both coldly pragmatic and warm and compassionate at the same time, simply because he was able to completely separate those aspects of his personality within himself. It would have sounded like a recipe for madness to the elf a few weeks ago, but Lyam showed no signs of mental instability.

He shook his head and considered the worth of the Saevare’s words at face value. It was true that he had always taken the Class his clan had desired of him, becoming a Ranger when on his journeys and picking the specialist Class of Elven Guardian when he returned, even though he had badly wanted to focus more on his magic than his physical combat skills.

He decided to look through the small list of specializations he was allowed to take in exchange for his lost Class.

Arcane Ranger- A specialization of the Ranger Class that has a stronger focus on nature magic. This Class benefits from an increased affinity with plants and animals, as well as a much greater access to mana than the Ranger base Class.

Nature’s Avenger- Consumed by hatred for the perpetrator of an act against him, the Ranger becomes a twisted force of Nature’s wrath, unleashing destruction in close combat and commanding armies of ferocious animal allies against those who would defile his home. This Class gains extreme bonuses to close combat skills and animal speech abilities become animal command abilities. However, as a side-effect, it becomes difficult for the Ranger to remain in one place for long, always driven to throw himself into the midst of blood and battle.

Forest Guardian- A Ranger that focuses on the protection of the forest against those who would ruin it. This can be considered a direct evolution of the Ranger class, enhancing bonuses to every aspect of a Ranger’s abilities without specializing in any particular area of a Ranger’s skills.

Beast Summoner- A Beast Summoner is a specialization offered to Druids and Rangers who have formed strong bonds with animals or monsters in the past. A Beast Summoner gains the ability to befriend and ‘mark’ beasts and monsters they have befriended, enabling him to summon them into battle later on in spirit or physical form. While, unlike otherworldly beings like demons or angels, beasts that die when summoned perish forever, their abilities when summoned are increased by those of the summoner based on their Summoning skill level.

Beastlord- A Ranger who shifts into the forms of beasts and monsters he has befriended or subjugated. A Beastlord is a ferocious shapeshifting slayer who wanders the battlefield, wreaking havoc on his enemies while channeling the aspects of beasts into his flesh. At higher levels, this Class gains the ability to designate parts of their bodies to shift and combine multiple beasts and monsters into a single form.

Stormlord- A Class offered to individuals with a high affinity for Air and Nature magic. This is a magic class focused on controlling the weather and unleashing it upon one’s foes. This particular branch of arcane study is highly valued around the world for both its applications in battle and in everyday life. The powers of lightning and growth take residence in the Stormlord’s mana channels, making it difficult for him to use other schools of magic, but they also make it possible to wield those powers with an ease that awes many.

The System was sometimes kind, even as it offered traps that might guide an individual away from their own path. He knew he didn’t really meet the conditions for the class that called out to him the most, Stormlord. It was a class he had wanted in his heart of hearts for a long time before giving up on it for his clan.

Lyam’s remark echoed in his mind, and with a careless shrug, he picked Stormlord. He felt a stream of knowledge enter his mind as the Class took residence in his flesh and soul. His Air and Nature Magic skills rose abruptly, bringing him to the minimum levels required to take the Class, most likely as recompense for the loss of his previous Class.

Name: Laevarian

Level: 14

Race: Wood Elf

Profession: Hunter, Guardian

Class: Stormlord

Title: n/a

HP: 1500/1500

MP: 2000/2000

Str: 14

Agi: 20

Dex: 26

Con: 14

End: 12

Int: 18

Will: 16

Cha: 20

Lck: 25

Martial Skills: Polearms 50, Bows 50

Magic Skills: Air Magic 25, Nature Magic 25

Spells: Windwalking, Wind barrier, Natural Healing (heals wounds, as well as purging diseases and corruption, ineffective against poisons), Spark Bolt, Twisting Vines, Least Weather Manipulation

Weapon Style: Elven Archery (Apprentice), Wind Spear (Apprentice)

Non-Combat: Woodworking 30, Herbalism 40, Mana Cultivation 20

Perks: Stormlord’s Cultivation (50% bonus to all weather-related and Nature magic, 50% penalty to all non-weather or Nature related magic)

Racial Perks: Nightvision, Wood Elf’s Nature Affinity (allows Wood Elves to safely interact with non-hostile forest creatures and communicate with elder trees)

Talents: Spear Affinity (has potential to master the spear), Air Magic Affinity (has potential to master Air Magic)

He was going to have to put all his AP into magical attributes for some time to catch up, but he was satisfied with the changes, for the most part. The loss of some of his HP and the increase in MP were predictable, given that his new class was a true magic class instead of hybrid like Ranger or Elven Guardian. He was a little surprised he hadn’t been forced to sacrifice some of his combat skills, given the System sometimes did that when one shifted Class types too drastically.

He also liked his new spells, with spark bolt immediately pleasing the destructive child that gleefully cackled within him. He had always wanted a true destruction spell, and spark bolt, the most basic form of lightning spell, fit that desire. Least Weather Manipulation was a ‘utility’ spell that would advance to higher designations based on his mastery of it. Unlike his other spells, which he could simply cast and forget, Least Weather Manipulation required constant attention to detail to use… but in exchange, it would be incredibly useful even at low levels. Twisting Vines was a druid spell that could manipulate plants and cause them to entangle the feet of enemies, and it wasn’t something he cared for one way or another.

Lyam watched the elf during this long process with an expression of bemusement on his face. He hadn’t expected Laevarian to immediately take his advice, but he could tell that he had by the sudden and obvious shifts in his body and aura. Laevarian’s eyes gained a vague blue tinge, and his fingers crackled with electricity one moment, a vague green glow another. His hair also turned a blue-tinged silver, and he could feel a hum of electricity coming from it when he brought his hand close.

The elf looked pleased with the changes, and when Lyam looked at his altered status, he had to restrain himself from whistling and revealing his impulsively rude intrusion.

That is one fun-looking Class, He thought to himself. He took a look at his own status to compare them properly.

Name: Lyam Aldren

Level: 9

Race: Saevere

Profession: Hired Killer

Class: Curse Blade

Title: Cain’s Successor, Kinslayer, The First Curse Blade (Reduces costs of Curse Magic by 50%)

Available AP: 15

Available SP: 2

HP: 2030/2030

MP: 2300/2300

Str: 13

Agi: 23

Dex: 23

Con: 18

End: 18

Int: 28

Will: 28

Cha: 14

Lck: 10

Martial Skills: Light Blades 40, Backstab 25, Stealth 25, Magic Resistance 5

Magic Skills: True Sight 40, Gravity Magic 19, Curse Magic 10, Soul Magic 1

Crafting Skills: Blood Curse Tattoo 10 (sub-skill of Enchanting, class-related), Enchanting 10

Spells: Psychokinesis, Gravity Arrow, Blood Curse, Create Soul Familiar

Weapon Style: Cat Dances with Swords (Novice)

Non-Combat: Perception 50, Mana Cultivation 20

Perks: Kinslayer I (5% damage boost to sapient humanoids, -5% to damage taken from sapient humanoids), Absolute Metabolism (Perfect immunity to and absorption of poison, disease, and curses)

Racial Perks: Mana Core, Innovative Nature II, Inspiration

Talents: Compartmentalization (This individual can shuffle his emotions to the side almost at will), Cold Mind (This individual will ignore all attempts to sway him emotionally from a chosen course, whether born of magic or conventional means), Persona Creation (This individual naturally adopts personality traits that will give him a better chance of success in his chosen endeavors), Greater Magic Affinity (potential to master at least 3 schools of magic, two basic, one Celestial, Class Schools do not count for Affinity Talents)

Now that he considered it, Lyam realized that his stats were far too high compared to Laevarian’s. Laevarian was five levels higher than him, and even if Lyam didn’t have the spare AP sitting around, his stats were a bit ridiculous considering his level and how little time he’d spent in the System. In fact, compared to the people he met in the dying town, his attributes had been far too high.

It seemed like the System was favoring him somehow.

When Laevarian came back to himself, Lyam asked him about it, using a technique the elf taught him to show only his attributes. Something told him that he wouldn’t want to reveal his Title or Perks to the other man… or to anyone, if possible.

Laevarian looked thoughtful, “I am just guessing, but the System gives out a lot of rewards in the first few months after integration. Your race is obviously Tier 2 or Tier 3, meaning more AP per level and you probably gained attributes from actions related to your race’s natural tendencies. You are also an experienced killer with an unusual mind and high natural intelligence. If I had to guess further, your base stats even before they were converted to the System were high and you are just benefiting from the results.”

He continued, “Most likely, there are others like you scattered throughout the ‘patches’ where your world has been integrated. There are very likely those with even higher base attributes than you, though I doubt if many have as many strange talents as you do.”

Your constant questioning has led to a better understanding of how you fit into the world, Intelligence +1.

You have indulged in your true Saevere nature by questioning your place in the world, Intelligence +1.

The messages made Lyam blink with surprise. His steadily growing curiosity seemed to make him more powerful the more he indulged it, and he was gradually realizing that his race seemed to be tailor-made for a magic user. The way his intelligence and willpower kept growing through seemingly mundane actions was probably only temporary, based on Laevarian’s opinion; though he thought it was likely that he would still gain such bonuses throughout his life as he experienced new things and indulged his wonder about his new world.

“Are Wood Elves a Tier 2 race?” Lyam asked curiously. The Saevere recalled that the Drow were listed as a Tier 2 race when he was figuring out what race he wanted to be.

“We used to be, but our race has weakened over time due to our avoidance of conflict. Our potential as a species faded over time, until we were reduced to a Tier 1 race. It… is not something most of my kind like to speak about, as it requires them to admit the Elders were wrong to direct us to remain within our villages and avoid adventuring or exploration beyond our borders,” Laevarian, looking sorrowful.

He brightened after a moment, though, “However, it is possible for individuals to ascend their racial bloodlines through hard work and progression in levels, so all is not lost.”

“Does the System decide racial potential?” Lyam asked.

“Yes, though it is said some races will never be above Tier 1, like humans or orcs, though individuals might ascend through progression.”

“What about people new to the System? My race was changed when I was taken here, and I saw very few people still human amongst those I met.”

“Your people were human?” Laevarian asked with some surprise.

“Yes, our entire planet was nothing but humans.”

“Ah, that explains much. The System does not like humans. Humans do not adjust well to the System, after all,” He said in an off-handed manner.

“Are humans that pathetic?” Lyam asked wryly.

“Humans are a short-lived race with only weak magical potentials, even when they ascend. There are exceptions, such as High Humans or ones from cultivator worlds, but human potential is generally considered to be the lowest outside the lesser goblinoid races,” He answered.

“So, what does a human population look like when they arrive here?”

“For humans who have just been drawn into the System along with their world, race changes are almost universal. Existing potential determines whether an individual will become a Tier 1 or a Tier 2 race. Those who are only seen to have Tier 1 potential are generally made into one of the ‘lesser’ elf races, halflings, high orcs, or gnomes. Those with Tier 2 potential are less predictable though… it is not uncommon for extinct races to be revived during the assimilation of a new world,” He remarked at length.

“Are you a scholar, Laevarian? It seems like you have an extensive knowledge regarding the assimilation of worlds...” Lyam asked curiously.

The elf looked a bit embarrassed, his ears twitching and a small flush making itself known on his cheeks, “When I journeyed outside the forest, I briefly attended the Adventurers College at Isnaviel. For a time, I toyed with the idea of becoming a scholar of magic, before duty called me home.”

Lyam considered the elf thoughtfully for a few moments before making a suggestion, “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but revenge against the tree drakes seems to be… pointless. Are they even sapient?”

Laevarian became utterly still, his hand clenching on the bark of the tree he was standing in hard enough to crack it in several places before he relaxed and let out a deep breath, “… you are right, I did not want to hear that. You are also correct. Tree drakes are not sapient. At best, they have the intellectual capacity of a lesser wolf or a large cat.”

“I’m not going to say you should forget about the village, but you should probably consider finding a more forward-thinking goal than revenge on something that wouldn’t even understand what revenge is,” Lyam said, his pragmatic nature finding the elf’s somehow weak impulse toward vengeance distasteful.

“And what would you know of my desire for vengeance?!” The elf exclaimed, giving Lyam a glare that nonetheless wavered when exposed to the Saevere’s calm visage.

“I’ve seen vengeance in all its forms dozens of times in the past. I made a great deal of money off of it before the Sublimation, and I know the look of someone eager for vengeance… and the look of someone who is just trying to convince himself to take vengeance,” Lyam said, accusing the elf indirectly of dishonesty about his motives, though what Lyam disliked was that Laevarian was trying to fool himself into taking a self-destructive path, something he was reluctant to see him do, given the debt he felt he owed him.

The elf’s shoulder’s slumped, and he averted his gaze, nodding quietly, “I feel ashamed I do not really want to take vengeance. I despaired for the first three days, grieved for another three, and now… I feel relief.”

“Which made you feel like you had to take vengeance, or you would be dishonoring your loss,” Lyam finished for him.

Laevarian nodded again, his voice cracking with pain and shame at what he thought of as his own cold-hearted nature, “I wanted to be free for so long, but my freedom is...”

Lyam growled and slapped the elf in the back of the head, nearly knocking him off the branch he was standing on before he steadied himself, “Laevarian, you don’t even want vengeance. There is nothing worse than trying to take vengeance when you don’t even want it. It is fine to grieve for the dead, and it is also fine to move on, even if you think it is a bit soon.”

Lyam was suddenly deluged by the memories of his own past, the bewildered grief when his parents died and left him alone, the rage that had consumed him when his mentor got himself killed on a job, and the struggle to recover after he indulged that all-consuming rage, spending months rebuilding the walls within himself. Lyam smiled bitterly in response to his own hypocrisy when it came to talking about vengeance. However, the words he had stated were some of the most honest ones he’d ever spoken. He had no regrets.

Laevarian folded his legs under him and sat on the limb, as if it were flat ground. Lyam had to admire the Wood Elf’s natural ability to somehow always be able to remain in the treetops, considering it was only two inches thick and shouldn’t have been able to hold his armored weight at all.

The Saevere decided to cultivate for a while, taking a similar position on a thicker limb a dozen or so feet below. He drew in mana with each breath, forcing his core to move clockwise as he forced his mana and his core to compress, speeding up the rotation and the draw on the local mana. Faint blue vortexes became visible all across his body as he cultivated, the mana responding to his will.

This was not going to happen in one session, he realized. While he’d managed to compress the core slightly in the first few seconds, he could feel that it was resisting being compressed much further. The mana in his meridians was becoming denser, but it was only barely perceptible, even with the senses granted him by the skill.

It was also excruciatingly painful. Rotating and compressing the core felt like being kicked in the kidneys repeatedly, an experience he really hadn’t wanted to repeat. Still, he persisted, feeling that he would need to reach a certain threshold before he stopped, lest it revert to its previous state.

They spent almost three days in that tree, neither of them noticing the passing of time. Lyam’s meditative state and constant draw of mana made sleep superfluous, and Laevarian’s race generally didn’t need sleep, instead making do with nightly meditation. They both ate trail biscuits mechanically whenever they became hungry, but they did not speak, both considering something entirely internal to themselves, ignoring the outside world.

Occasionally, beasts and monsters would look in their direction, but they were all low-level creatures, unwilling to challenge the aura they sensed leaking from Lyam while he cultivated.

Laevarian considered his emotions and motivations continuously, separating out his fears, desires, and instincts, untangling the mess that had been eating away at him since the village was destroyed.

He confronted the least painful aspect first. He touched upon his anger at the loss of the village. As he had suspected, it was faint, weak, almost nonexistent. He couldn’t truly hate the tree drakes. They were simply acting upon their nature, destroying and eating as they migrated throughout the forests.

The second aspect he confronted was his grief. He had loved his parents, and he had always enjoyed playing with the children of the village. It pained him greatly that he would never get to revel in their triumphs and comfort them for their failures as they grew. While he had yet to find a mate of his own, the loss of that chance also pained him, for he would never be able to share in the traditional courtship rituals, which were one of the few traditions he had looked forward to honestly. However, the grief was already growing old, a trickle rather than a flood. The rituals of burial had helped him through it enough that he truly felt it to be in the past.

The last and most painful aspect was his resentment and its effects on his reaction to the obliteration of his home. He had resented the village Elders, he had resented his duty, and he still resented that they had forced him to abandon his dreams to become a guardian. He forced himself to confront those feelings, analyzing their effects on his reactions, and he also looked at whether they were justified.

Were they justified? To him, the answer was yes. He had no real desire for vengeance. His sense of duty, the duty he had hated so much, was all that made him think of vengeance. Instead, he wanted to turn the loss into an opportunity, to study and learn magic, to teach at a magic college, and to perhaps one day return to the adventurer’s life, unbound by duty.

Elven reverie benefited his enlightenment about himself. When he slipped into that peculiar state for a few hours each night, he processed his realizations rapidly, easing the burden on his soul. There were good reasons why elves were some of the sanest of the long-lived species, and this was one of them. Reverie, when combined with proper introspection, allowed for much faster healing of wounds to the soul and the untangling of complicated emotions.

At the end of the three days, Lyam made a breakthrough, and his core reached equilibrium, his mana compressed into a state just short of liquid. The core was smaller now, no longer threatening to damage his body simply by existing. It would take a number of shorter sessions before the process could be completed, but he was now stable, as long as he didn’t gain too much intelligence or willpower too soon.

Congratulations! Your Mana Cultivation has reached 25! You are now a Journeyman of Mana Cultivation! 1200 xp gained for reaching Journeyman in Mana Cultivation!

He grunted as he felt his body… change somehow. His already lithe muscles became more streamlined, more perfectly designed to perform their function. His bones became slightly denser, his bone marrow slightly more efficient, and his nerves grew thicker and longer, allowing him to process more information faster.

By compressing your core, you have gained +10% efficiency of all physical and mental attributes.