19
Zara, the Swift
Level 33 Ghost Tiger (Elite)
Seconds past, and the pure white tiger stalked forward, sniffing left and right. She moved forward, and the ground beneath her feet gave way. He drew the string of his bow back and shot an arrow towards her back legs, but she blurred and reappeared on the side, staring up at him.
“With a name like that, I shouldn’t be surprised you’re faster than the others,” Vander said.
He nocked another arrow and let loose, firing as she sprinted towards the tree he nestled in. Two more arrows sailed after the first, both hitting nothing but dirt. When she got close enough, he slipped the bow back over his shoulder and grabbed the spear.
Then he leapt, grinning. Rather than meet him head on, her presence completely faded away and blended perfectly into the forest. Expecting as much, he landed on the ground on guard and stomped.
A wave of lightning exploded outward in a wave. Zara’s black claws ripped through the attack and revealed her location to his side. He oriented towards her and kicked off the ground, propelling himself across the short distance and stabbed.
Electrified spear clipped flesh, and a snarl of pain and fury erupted from the tiger’s throat. He didn’t ease up. She held up better than the others, barely limping as his lightning coursed through her powerful body.
Powerful muscles coiled and lunged towards him, tooth and claw bared to rend flesh from bone. As she crashed down, he stepped out of range of her powerful attacks, slipped through her guard, and plunged half of the spear into her side. The smell of burning hair filled the air as he unleashed a torrent of lightning through the metal spear into her body.
Spasming, she attempted to fight back against his power, but all of her struggles were in the name of futility. Under her own weight and the barrage of static robbing her of the ability to fight back, she collapsed.
Despite that, she held to her life for far longer than he’d expected. Even defenseless, her status as an elite wasn’t just for show. He drove his spear into her until the fight and life faded from her powerful body.
He stared down at the tiger. “You put up a good fight. Rest easy now.”
In moments, he removed the core and observed it. A higher concentration of energy rested within. Swirling grays coalesced around a white center. He crushed it and absorbed the mana within. Zara’s core gave twice as much as the other ghost tigers, and she wasn’t even the progenitor of her kind, a monarch.
With a sharpened knife in hand, he went about collecting the most valuable parts of the ghost tiger. Tooth, claw, and pelt. The cuts on the pelt weren’t perfect, but they got the job done. If they couldn’t be sold when he got back, he’d craft something special from them. He’d already taken a liking to the pelts, though they didn’t quite suit The Snarl. Not unless they came with some kind of camouflage property.
When finished, he stored the bundle with the rest of what he’d collected in a nook in the tree he’d roosted in. Now that he’d finished his warm up, the village called his name. The forest felt like home as he skulked through it, his steps quiet despite his quick pace.
His thoughts roamed freely as he traveled towards the destination of the class assessment. He found it interesting that this part had a required amount of people he had to save. If he didn’t, could he fail the assessment entirely? The thought of having to pay another hundred of each attribute sped up his steps, but he’d taken care to keep tabs on the village’s status.
No matter where he scouted, he couldn’t find any trace of any bandits. All his time in the forest, he’d set traps and scouted out the surrounding area. Ghost tigers were by far the most worrisome thing he found, but they stayed clear of the village.
Unable to figure out the puzzle, he put it out of his thoughts for the time being. There were several more things he’d gained from the assessment thus far. A few levels in archery, trap making, quiet steps, running, and climbing that gave him a couple attributes here and there. Most notably, the specifics of his magic body.
Displaying requested Magic Body properties:
Passive Mana Restoration: 34 mana a minute
Active Mana Restoration: 204 a minute
Mana Capacity: 720 (+1000)
Whatever Adrian’s mana properties really were, there would be no way in the world for Vander to guess them. The theoretical comparison he’d compiled felt like an absolute atrocious estimation after seeing the gains he’d received from the elixir. There was no way that Adrian, as a duke of one of Varoth’s prized families, hadn’t had an elixir or thirty in his time.
With the addition of meditation, his active mana restoration almost reached six mana per second… Per second! To fill his base mana capacity, he’d need two minutes. With the ring more than doubling that, he’d need near five minutes.
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But having mana for the sake of having mana didn’t mean much to Vander. The speed of the True Lightning Proficiency’s growth seemed slow. In his last life, the extent of his capabilities was limited to his imagination, not skill levels. If he could think it, he could do it, and that freedom of use was severely lacking in his current levels.
With the addition of One With Potential, the skill grew steadily. Patience had never been his strong suit though, and everything with Madison made him feel like a looming presence of existential dread crushed him from all sides. He didn’t have enough power to fight against the Witch, the Devil General the archmage spoke about, The Mad God and his cultists, or anything else that stood in his way.
Weak. As he was, he was shamefully weak. He’d need a veritable army to make a splash in this world, let alone actually get one of the tasks on his list completed. The power he had in his past life as the Storm King wouldn’t be nearly enough to compete with the monsters in this world, yet he couldn’t even reach that level now.
No, he wouldn’t reach that level of power given years if he kept doing as he had been. That was unacceptable to him. Madison was out there, and she needed him. Even more, he needed her. He never thought he’d see her again and had spent this entire life getting over that fact, but now she’d appeared.
I think a discussion with a certain goddess is in order. He added another thing to his to do list and focused his thoughts as he approached the edge of the village.
From his vantage point, he could see everything. What the people were doing, how many there were, structures, resource locations like the well or dry storage for various grains, herbs, and barrels… The place was low hanging fruit, easy pickings for anybody who didn’t want to put in the work themselves to get supplies.
Bandits here? He rolled his eyes at the villagers’ poor preparations. As they were, they might as well be holding up a sign that read ‘we’re defenseless, please take everything we have’. “Wow, I’m so surprised,” he deadpanned.
He searched the outskirts for days, scouring every hidey hole, mountain cave, and anything else he could think of, but no bandits appeared anywhere. Preparing himself mentally for a long term stay in the second part of the trial, Vander ingratiated himself with the people of the city and joined them in their simple lives.
***
As the golden sunlight beamed through the curtain’s cracks, the wind outside rustled through grass and trees. Such was the way every morning greeted Vander since he’d joined the village of Crossroad many months prior.
He lay awake in bed and basked in the warmth of the morning sun. He enjoyed the quiet of morning before the bell sounded the hour. When the familiar ring-ting-ting heralded the working day, he finally rose from his bed and planted his feet on the ground. A month ago, his old boots had fallen prey to the hard village labor and had been replaced.
The new boots fit him and were made of better quality material, holding tight without being wrapped thrice with sewing of vine or cheap twine. Slipping them on, he breathed in the morning air and savored the fresh fragrances blown in by the breeze. Spices, freshly baked bread, and a hearty broth tickled his nose and gave way to the beast in his stomach.
All that before remembering he was supposed to get started on the field today if he was going to have it ready for planting. And from what he’d heard of the winters, he couldn’t slack at all if the village were to survive. His class assessment progress stagnated, much like his magical abilities, but the time in Crossroad had given him valuable time to learn many things he’d taken for granted during his time with Adrian.
Vander threw his head back and put a hand through his hair when he realized that he’d gotten up too late for a proper breakfast. What he smelled had to be the leftovers of the early morning birds that caught the worm, but he didn’t fret.
Sitting cross legged on the ground with closed eyes, he breathed in and felt the sparse ambient mana fill his lungs. The village was nothing like the tower or Ainos. Just his breathing technique alone could drain the ambient mana, leaving the air feeling itchy and dry even on a rainy day.
When his energy levels rose and the snarling beast in his stomach calmed, he grinned as he rose from the simple wooden floor to open a window. Even more light poured into his small cabin. His eyes adjusted to the brightness of the day as he gazed out.
The view was priceless. The village and the surrounding landscape’s expanse extended before him. Streams flowed down from the far off mountains, trailing all the way to the village to provide a source of freshwater. He’d worried at first when he arrived, but the streams snaked down the mountains’ sloping curves and jagged edges to meet the river that cut through the valley.
The greenery reminded him of The Snarl, and a longing caused his gut to growl for another reason entirely. The class assessment was taking far longer than he could have ever anticipated, but he didn’t know if time flowed the same on the inside. He hoped it so, but until he saved the villagers, he wouldn’t know.
He shook his head as memories came to mind. The peace here seemed almost unbelievable. Days of sleeping beneath the stars had been aplenty as he snacked on freshly butchered pork and seasoned bread made that morning.
It wasn’t long before Vander was putting his old ox Stubborn to work the fields. He had the temperament of a mule and was as hard working to boot. Vander closed his eyes and took it in, breathing in the freshness of the fields and stream. He’d come to love the feeling of the sun on his skin. Nothing felt better than the sun on his face and a hint of the fresh cold of morning flowing down from the mountains. He grinned and followed behind the ox as he drew the plow across his small plot of land.
Tending the field was hard and time consuming work, but Vander had never shied away from hard work. Most of all, he’d taken a liking to the quiet of isolation. Only Stubborn’s steady plowing and nature accompanied him throughout his days. It helped him ground himself and focus on the tasks he needed to complete when he left the assessment.
He’d decided to hold out on his class advancement, even if the option were available. Without knowing how time worked, he wouldn’t make the decision to progress himself rashly, nor did he have the luxury of learning two Class’ worth of skills and adapting them into his skillset. The time in Crossroad showed him just how much he’d been leaning into his skill levels as a crutch to prop up his capabilities.
A mistake not to be made twice. Understanding his abilities came first to set a foundation for how he would operate going forward, something he determined to be non-negotiable.
Amany was number one on his shit list, though he doubted she’d just have a casual conversation with him just because he wanted one. Even so, he’d find a way. If not, the next time he’d see her was to throw her in a ditch next to The Mad God.