Eric woke up with a gasp, heart pounding, the echo of his sister’s terrified cry shivering across his soul.

Congratulations! You have successfully forged a Blood Pact against targets one realm distant!

You are now Oathbound to destroy your target. Glitz: Level 29 Goblin Assassin/Sniper within 1 year, or suffer Severe Penalties!

You have plus 2 to all Skill checks and saving throws against your target for the duration of your oath! You and your target will automatically sense each other on Perception Based range! You will automatically know (roughly) what direction your target is in when you are within (Perception) miles of your target!

Level 9 Potency has fallen to Zero.

You have lost an additional 66 days of your life.

Blood Mastery is now Rank 24!

Spirit Mastery is now Rank 17!

Eric bit back bitter tears, caring nothing for the massive potency cost for what would amount to a quest arrow, if and when he finally got back to Earth. All that mattered was that he knew the face of the monster that had cackled with such glee at his sister’s peril. Knew it like the knuckles of his fist that he pounded against the massive slab of bone, crocodile scales, and meat that had once been a Greater Spirit Beast and was now his favorite punching bag, pounding it with such fury that even the necromancy0infused flesh began to disintegrate under his abuse.

He paid no mind to Samuel’s exasperated expression turning into wide eyed fear, his mind’s eye focused only on the nightmare vision playing endlessly across his mind’s eye. Sensing so clearly, in those final moments of sunlight, the depth of his mother’s plans, how she had sacrificed so much, hidden so many cards, luring her enemies out to wipe the Sylvan Alliance in a desperate last stand, feigning weakness, even sacrificing countless dozens of loyal soldiers, all for a chance to put an end to no less than six joined orc tribes.

And his sister, looking so ethereal, so transcendent, as she channeled a storm that would have done an arch mage proud, Eric was sure, on the cusp of pulling out a magnificent victory that would have seen the elves ascend, at least in this part of the former US.

Only for victory to be snatched away at the last possible second by a trio of saboteurs and assassins. High level goblins eager to cause as much havoc and chaos as they possibly could, no doubt happy to work with orcs, whose vile depredations would send so many more desperate humans into the goblin faction’s clutches where debt and desperation would see them in slave collars before the decade was out. And all of it Perfectly system legal, allowing the bastards to effectively enslave entire populations while still enjoying privileged merchant and trade status throughout the worlds they inhabited, much like the Blue Faction.

Only the goblins had no sense of honor, pride, or code of galactic norms and morals to follow. For them it was all a pretext, the law another shell of armor to hide behind between sniping their foes from the shadows, just as vile and ruthless as the orcs, and a hell of a lot smarter.

Because all it took was a single trio of independent assassins to shatter the Sylvan Alliance and send the remnants of their forces fleeing, the woods that sheltered them absolutely saturated with arcane accelerants Elonia was ruthlessly stopped from quenching... when but for the saboteur's interference, elven victory would have been assured.

So much Eric had sensed in those final moments, infusing the very air with so much of his blood, his potency, that he had both marked, and been marked by, the dark bitter telling of fate’s tale.

He clenched his fist, giving a frustrated shake of his head.

He was still shocked by how deeply he had been moved by his family’s plight, a part of him missing his mother, even after all that had happened. A mother he knew he still loved, despite all her short-comings. And his sister… the look in her eyes when she was hit…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Eric roared aloud at the heavens, clenching his fists. Before crashing to the ground, knowing he could do nothing. That the tragedy had already played out, and either his sister would pull through, or she wouldn’t.

Either way, there was nothing he could do.

Not now.

Not as he was.

The uncertainty of his sister’s fate tore at his soul. But there was at least one thing he knew for damned sure. He didn’t have the endless months to nurture and better himself at the sweet relaxed pace he had hoped for. Not with three gleefully twisted assassins already at level 30, who would be doing all they could to take out Aurelia’s most powerful pieces in a bloody war of attrition that would all but assure the orc’s victory in the months to come.

Eric needed to get as strong as he possibly could as fast as he possibly could, whatever the cost.

And if that meant straining his cultivation base… then so be it.

If there was even a chance he’d be able to achieve a certain degree of strength, even if only sufficient to claim one or more of the spirit fruit radiating so much Fire Qi, then it was a chance he had to take.

“Eric, what happened, man? You look stressed as anything. Bad dream?”

Eric took a deep breath, gazing Sam’s way. He did his best to force a smile. “Just realized that I’m on something of a clock, after all.”

Sam blinked. “You’re leaving?”

Eric slowly shook his head. “No. It won’t do any good now. But soon. In a handful of weeks, not months. And that means that I gotta take certain risks I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.” Eric frowned thoughtfully, peering at the tome in his friend’s hands. “May I?”

Wordlessly, Sam handed Eric the tome, whereupon he began skimming for the passage he was eager to read one more time just to be sure.

His finger stopped on the final paragraphs of the introduction, flashing a fiercely satisfied smile.

Because if the book was right, if pod classers truly did originate from cultivation, then perhaps he could make use of similar methods to ascend, and quickly, just like the book implied in what he had originally thought was a desperate pitch to sway prospective candidates away from the ready-made and super convenient System paths. But now, things being what they were, he could only hope there was some truth to that enticement.

Enough truth to see him fully crack open and cleanse all his meridian channels at a rate that would destroy any non-classer’s cultivation base… and maybe his own.

But first, he had some boars to kill, and an experience bar to fill up.

Then, and only then, it would be time to push his newfound abilities to the fullest.

No matter how steep a price he would be forced to pay.

“Eric?”

Eric smiled at his young friend. “I have an idea. If I’m right… we might just be able to game the System, after all.”

Sam grinned. “Really? That would be awesome!”

“So you’ll be ready and waiting to cultivate once I get back, right?”

“You know it!”

With a farewell wave, Eric racing out the cave, javelin in hand, readying himself for the hunt to come.

You have critically struck Spirit Boar! Experience earned!

Iado (Fast-Draw) is now Rank 9!

Eric flashed a quick smile for his favorite message, panting over the massive corpse before him before cleansing and resheathing his saber, just in time to spin around and brace himself for the charge of yet another squealing beast obliterating the undergrowth, no doubt having been alerted by the dying squeals of Eric’s earlier prey.

He couldn’t help flashing a hungry grin as his heart pounded with sheerest exhilaration, his perception of time speeding up as everything seemed to slow, Eric seeing the droplets of foamy saliva whipped free of the tusker’s gaping maw glide gracefully through the air as the massive buffalo-sized beast lowered its tusks and charged, a ton of muscle, bone, and sinew moving in perfect concert as it charged forward with absolute killing intent as Eric sank ever deeper into his crouch, hand caressing the hilt of his saber, taking a single deep, steadying breath as his would be killer got closer… closer… until Eric sensed just the moment to strike.

NOW!

His blade flashed in the light of the morning sun as Eric simultaneously drew and struck the flank of his would-be executioner, putting every last ounce of Strength, Speed, and Finesse into a gruesome series of cleaving slashes spurting hot steaming blood before leaping aside just as the boar squealed its defiance and spun around, goring the air where Eric had been slicing, just a heartbeat before. Yet the beast was too furious to do anything but ready itself for another charge as Eric leaped back, before shifting his stance and posture once more. His bloodied blade was instantly cleaned and returned to its sheath, thanks to his ES Storage space, right hand already back on his hip, taking full advantage of the perilous opportunity before him to push his skills even as he filled his experience bar, reveling in their mutual struggle for survival, pushing all thoughts of his nightmare vision away.

Haunting memories and bitter regrets were the farthest thing from his mind as the boar repeated its charge, Eric now feinting with shift in stance and posture before springing towards the opposite flank as the squealing boar’s wickedly sharp, massive tusks tore through the air where Eric would have been standing, to the boar’s mind should have been standing, had his goal been to savage the wounded flank once more.

The boar’s beady little eyes completely missed the fade as a repositioned Eric struck from its blind spot, his soul-linked saber ripping open the boar’s right flank nearly as deeply as the left, no matter that his left-hip sheath placement added to the difficult of the maneuver. Because one didn’t always have the luxury of optimal conditions when forced to draw and strike an unexpected assassin in the blink of an eye, and Eric would be damned if he didn’t prepare himself for whatever would come, when he finally left this portal and rained death down upon all his foes.

Or so he hoped he would eventually be strong enough to do one day, even as he locked gazes with the massive tusker that had twisted around once more, now visibly trembling from shock and blood loss, the lightning fast series of cleaving cross cuts having ripped completely through its abdomen, ruptured entrails now oozing free of the gushing wounds as the oversized warthog squealed its pained defiance once more.

Eric allowed himself a sympathetic smile for the noble beast, saber replaced by obsidian-sharp bardiche in the blink of an eye, now held in what a longswordsman would call a Vom Tag stance, weapon raised at an angle over his head, poised to deliver massive powerful blows that would strike with deceptive quickness, at least in Eric’s hands.

“It was a good fight. Worthy of an end free of all pain.”

The pig gave one final defiant squeal and charged forward, even if its gate was ragged, its pain all too clear.

And Eric was as good as his word, even if it would mean a corpse poorly suited for being raised, his bardiche slicing through the air so fast that the pig still charged forward before the stump of the massive overmuscled neck registered that it was without its head, the fearsome corpse crashing to the ground in a gusher of blood before the confused, dying heart finally beat its last.

Congratulations! You have successfully slain Level 25 Spirit Beast in singular combat!

Saber is now Rank 16!

Eric bowed his head in a quick gesture of respect before gathering all his kills, the cluster of pigs now no more than spatterd blood and gore quickly absorbed by the loamy forest floor, and a thoughtful Eric quickly made his way back to camp.

Of course his young friend was eager to see the results of the hunt, though his excited smile quickly turned to a look bordering on disbelief when Eric presented the kills.

“Eric! Jeezus fuck, man, where are the heads?”

Eric grinned. “Sorry, forgot. Here they are.”

His friend gazed at the savaged remains for long moments, as Eric placed the corpses in the ritual circles Sam was still instructing him on the use of, even if neither of them was willing to risk further polluting their meridian channels with their crimson arts. Not until they were much stronger, at least.

Sam sighed, peering thoughtfully at the remains. “No way in hell I can animate them, not using the clean restorative techniques that are grandfather’s specialty. No frankensteins in our home, I’ll tell you that.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’d think it a waste, but honestly, it’s fucking art, how savagely you kill those poor fucks. I mean look at this! Your bardiche cuts so clean its like a surgeon’s scalpel, and don’t you dare tell me you struck it when it was asleep.”

Eric solemnly shook his head. “Ambushing sleeping foes won’t do shit for my combat skills.” His gaze turned thoughtful. “Though it might open up an assassin class or two.” He laughed off his own comment. “Not that I need that with my Master Criminal title. Pretty much all roguish classes will be open to me. Point is, it was as much about training, putting my boosted stats through their paces, and seeing just how quickly and effectively I can strike, as it was about filling up my level 9 bar again.”

His friend snorted. “And you talk about filling up your experience bar as if it was a casual thing you can do in a single morning, not the culmination of week’s worth of effort, or longer, like it is for most people.”

Eric chuckled. “What can I say? Just a few porkers and I’m back to saturating my Upper Dantian. The perks of hunting game well over twice my level.”

His friend paled, jerking a nod. “Which is why this place is such a deathtrap. If no one above level 10 can enter, but all the denizens are level 20 or higher.”

Eric winked. “Good. It means this cozy little cultivation sanctuary is for us and us alone.” He flashed a sympathetic smile. “I know. You lost friends, and I’m sorry about that. But at least, as long as we’re in here, no orc or goblin assassin has a chance of coming for us and shooting us in our sleep. Not anyone we need to fear, at least. And if we can actually get to the point where we can claim the magical spirit fruit before we’re forced to leave? This might be one fortuitous encounter that will truly be lifechanging for you and me both. I’m just sorry that not everyone who came made it.”

Sam sighed, dipping his head. “And I know that the only reason why I’m even having this conversation right now, as opposed to filling some boar’s belly, is because of you. Thanks, Eric. I know I’ve said it before, but I owe you one, and an Orwell never forgets his debts.”

Eric grinned. “Honestly, Sam, you’re friendship, and your lessons, of course, are all I could ask for.”

His friend gazed thoughtfully at Eric. “I’m not going to lie. When I see the savage glint in your eyes when you talk about purging the entire world of orcs and Goblins, swimming in a sea of their blood… you scare me.”

Sam quickly raised his hand when Eric blinked and stepped back, surprised to find that the comment actually stung.

“But when were training together or making dinner or just shooting the shit, and you’re telling the goofiest, stupidest jokes or rehashing our favorite character builds in Skydragon… you’re everything I could want in a big brother.”

His friend flushed and laughed away his own comment. “Yeah, that sounds cheesy as hell, I know. But seriously, underneath that rage, I know you’re good people. Hell, the best people, really. I can just imagine you surrounded by cool friends if life had stayed normal, going to one ivy league school or another, starting your own business, happy and content with a wife and three kids and never having a dark thought in your life.”

Sam shrugged. “Or at least, that’s the vibe I get when we’re just chilling and training together. But all I have to do is look at the massive rents your bardiche unleashed upon that boar’s flanks… I mean just look at how deep and long that cut is! To know that you are one scary badass when someone pushes you too far.” His friend smirked. “You’d be the perfect lead for a Die Hardest sequel. Good-natured beat cop pushed too far who kicks unholy ass when the wrong shitheads invade your town.”

Eric couldn’t help chuckling at his friend’s compliment, genuinely touched. “Thanks, Sam. For that kind of praise, I’ll gladly save your life on the regular. I won’t actually audition for that role, or any other, seeing as I can’t actually act for shit. I just role-play a roaring motherfucker swinging a sword.”

Eric shrugged. “It’s about all I’m good for, as my mother made damn clear when she had me redo all my scenes after I… well...” He winced, shaking his head at unwanted flashes of a certain smarmy-faced asshole’s countenance, recalling all too well the mocking sneer the bastard had for a desperate young starlet, savoring her look of despair after securing a collar of vice upon her soul. A sneer that had been replaced by a look of sublime horror during his final moments… before Eric was quickly shuffled off by grim-faced sentinels who had been stupid enough to let that bastard anywhere near Elonia, after what had happened less than two years before.

Sam frowned at his far-off stare. “Eric?”

Eric sighed and shook his head. “Let’s just say I finally learned to channel the one role that would ever see the big screen. I paid a price to actually be able to play a realistic killer on the movie set, and it’s a price that haunted me for a long time… even if I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Sam gazed at Eric for long moments. “Wanna talk about it?”

Eric sighed and shrugged. “A wolf in producer’s clothing tried to drug and sell my sister to a wealthy client with way too much money.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “No shit. What happened? I mean, everyone knows her story, triumphing over addiction, volunteering at various charities, being an inspiration and role-model for people in recovery but… shit, someone actually tried to kidnap her?” His eyes lit with a fierceness Eric actually found endearing. “I hope someone strung up that bastard and he rots in jail forever.” Then he sighed. “Let me guess, you had to settle out of court to avoid a legal spectacle? Your sister being humiliated on the stand?”

Eric flashed a bitter smile, gazing at the tiny silver-white scar the psychotic pod never bothered to remove. “Nope, no out of court settlement or legal proceedings of any sort happened.”

Sam blanched. “You mean that fucker walked free?”

Eric laughed. “More like he flew free.” His gaze hardened. “From the Tokyo Tower rooftop. Screamed the whole way down. Damn shame.”

Sam gazed at Eric for long moments. “Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more badass.”

Eric shook his head and sighed. “I killed a man in hot blood, Sam. Without any world-ending excuse. And that’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.”

“But you saved your sister.”

“That I did.”

Sam frowned. “Was he the one who...”

“Got Elonia hooked in the first place?” Eric nodded. “I think he was.”

“Then how the fuck did he even sneak into that party? Anyway, I’m glad he’s dead.”

Eric flashed a bitter smile. “As much as a part of me regrets it, if that fucker somehow came back from the dead, I’d kill him all over again without a second thought. And if that makes me a bit of a monster?” He shrugged. “I'm okay with that. But as far as sneaking into the party goes, let’s just say a few people’s wallets were fatter than they should have been, by tens of thousands of dollars.”

Sam blanched. “Shit, you can’t trust anyone, can you? Please tell me your mother fired them straight off.”

Eric chuckled coldly. “She did a hell of a lot more than that. Because if you think I’m bad… we’re talking Winter Queen vendetta on her end.”

Sam nodded. “I can imagine.”

Eric’s gaze hardened. “And we’re wasting time. Come on, buddy. Let’s see if we can’t use that party link to push through your blockages like no one’s business.”

Sam’s eyes lit with fervent hope. “Shit, Eric. Do you think it will work? Because I can sense it. Thank god I can finally sense my meridians! But the fucking sludge...” his expression fell. “I can’t seem to crack it. I mean I can feel it, all of it, but it’s still. Stagnant.” His eyes grew haunted. “If anything, it’s like I’m aware of a pain, a discomfort, I had been too blind to even sense, before now.”

Eric gave his friend’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Then let’s get cracking.”

With that resolve firmly in mind, Eric assumed the lotus position and began practicing his breathing, feeling the gentle flow of spiritual energy through meridian channels that were now open sufficient to allow a decent trickle of Qi to soak through the blockages of all his nodes. He focused on that gentle cycling for long moments, finding a quiet satisfaction as he sensed his party member’s questing spirit knocking on the door of his soul.

He knew he was taking a risk, but he didn't hesitate to let Sam in, sensing the boy’s wide-eyed awe when he gazed at the brilliant sight of Eric’s enter meridian network suddenly flaring bright with the essence of flame.

You have successfully achieved Rank 4 Fire Cultivation!

Your meridians are suffering Mild Strain.