Alan knew he was keeping Su'ong waiting, and while it irked him to do so, there wasn't much he could do to ease the tenderness of his flesh other than settle back on his tail, giving himself another fifteen minutes to gather his scattered thoughts as well as regain a modicum of energy. The first ten minutes were allotted to recenter his frazzled brain using another round of [Meditation]. The remainder was spent going over his updated Statistics tab.

Name: Alan Robbins

Race: (F) [Beast-Folk (Variant)] Lvl 2

Exp to next Level: 30/150

Affinities: Fire, Earth, Water, Nature

Class: (F-Rare)[Warden of Blight] Lvl 1

Exp to next Level: 0/100

Cultivation Core: [Low] (Copper-Stage) *Unattuned*

Bloodline:

Titles: Heretic, Novice Mage, Dungeon Explorer, Above Your Weight Class, Singularly Skilled, Surpassing Expectations, Peerless Mage, Prodigious Mage, Luck Of The Daemons, Unprecedented Entity, Twisted Trials 1, Aspiring Martial Artist, Entry Level Adventurer, Techniquely Savvy, Ancestral Archives, The Boss's Boss, Tears of the Multiverse, Class President,

Patroness: Gaea {Primordial Mother's Blessing (Complete)}

***STATISTICS***

Strength: 132 +6% (+5%StEf)

Constitution: 121 +6% (+5%StEf)

Vitality: 121 +16% (+5%StEf)

Endurance: 131 +16% (+5%StEf)

Perception: 121 +6% (+5%StEf)

Agility: 126 +6% (+5%StEf)

Dexterity: 131 +6% (+5%StEf)

Intelligence: 121 +6% (+10%StEf)

Wisdom: 121 +6% (+10%StEf)

Resistance: 121 +11% (+10%StEf)

Willpower: 121 +11% (+10%StEf)

Luck: 209 +6% (+15%StEf)

Unallocated Status Points: 0

*** SKILLS***

(C)[Appraise] Lvl 1

(C)[Multiversal Language Comprehension 2.0] Lvl 2

(C)[Falling with Character] Lvl 4

(B)[Walking] Lvl 5

(U)[Steady Hand of the Cartographer] Lvl 3

(C)[How to Take a Punch] Lvl 3

(C)[Enhanced Pain Resistance] Lvl 2

(C)[Heat resistance] Lvl 1

(C)[Shock Resistance] Lvl 2

(R)[Advanced Spell Alteration] Lvl 2

(C)[Dual-casting] Lvl 10 Prepared for Evolution Y/N

(C)[Blind Resistance] Lvl 1

(C)[Bleed Resistance] Lvl 1

(C)[Bravery] Lvl 2

(C)[Meditation] Lvl 1

(R)[Elemental Manipulation] Lvl 1

*Unique*[Daemonfire of the Impure Realm] Lvl 0

*** SPELLS ***

(U)[Healing Fog] Lvl 7

(B)[Water Jet] lvl 5

(B)[Lightning Strike] Lvl 6*(Missing requisite affinity)

(B)[Fireball] Lvl 1

(B)[Banish Darkness] Lvl 2*(Missing requisite affinity)

(C)[Gale Blade] Lvl 1*(Missing requisite affinity)

(B)[Stone Skin] Lvl 3*(Missing requisite affinity)

(U)[Vortex Shield] Lvl 1*(Missing requisite affinity)

(U)[Shocking Water Cannon] Lvl 3*(Missing requisite affinity)

(R)[Plasma Flare] Lvl 1

(C)[Blessing of the Wind] Lvl 5*(Missing requisite affinity)

(R)[Gaea's Tempest] Lvl 1*(Missing requisite affinity)

***TECHNIQUES***

(C){Mirage Step} Lvl 1

(C){Meteoric Rush} Lvl 1

***BLOODLINE SKILLS***

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

***RACIAL SKILLS***

[Left eye of Echidna] Lvl 1- (Agony), (Wasting)

***CLASS SKILLS***

[Pathogenic Accumulation] Lvl 1: 0%

[Light Weapon Mastery] Lvl 1:0%

[Crossbow Mastery] Lvl 1: 0%

[Blighted Sense] Lvl 1: 0%

[Rune of Subjugation] Lvl 1: 0%

***CLASS UPGRADES***

[Warden's Wardrobe] Lvl 1

Alan's eyes widened to the size of small saucers when he reached the bottom of his shortened list of Non-Class Skills. Having somehow broken out of containment, [Daemonfire of the Impure Realm] was once more staring Alan dead in the face. Blood pressure spiking, he exhaled slowly, his brain working overtime trying to understand what had happened.

“But…” Alan stammered, “I thought the System sealed that fucking Skill with my Human side!“ It was a worrisome turn of events. One that he was left to assume must've been caused when the [Warden of Blight] Class attempted to initialize in his Human form. An attempt that had ended in an almost immediate failure.

According to the Class notifications, the System had actually tried not once, but twice, to establish a connection to Alan's Human side. It was Alan's belief that while the endeavor had inevitably failed due to what was listed as an unstable connection, somewhere in the midst of that failure, the remnant Daemonic flames were able to traverse that momentary link as if it were a bridge.

For all I know, those Gods damned Daemonic flames making their escape is what destabilized the connection in the first place… Alan shivered, reminded of how easily [Daemonfire of the Impure Realm] had been able to overcome all of his meager defenses. From the moment he'd opened that cursed purple box, his Skills and Spells had been contaminated one after another.

If not for the System providing Alan an outlet in the form of an Emotional Stockpile and the accompanying [Suit of Anger] to purge his accumulated emotions with, it was a toss up whether or not he would've retained his sanity long enough to recieve Gaea's help.

Thinking of his Human form brought about the realization that he was now free to use [Soul Cycle] whenever he was ready to switch forms. The only thing holding him back was once again time. It seemed like in the end, everything boiled down to a time constraint.

Although he wanted to get back to his rightful form, Alan was also aware that it would be a full twenty four hours before he could switch back again. And that was assuming that nothing went wrong in the process. The greyed out [Daemonfire of the Impure Realm]'s sudden and undesired return to his Statistics served as a bleak reminder of just how little he knew about the abilities he was so casually playing around with.

Trying to remain positive, Alan compartmentalized his worries, trying instead to focus on the positives. There wasn't a lot to be done about any potential ramifications of the Daemonic Skill jumping ship and showing up on his Beast-Folk Statistics tab. Setting that whole issue aside for a later discussion with Su'ong, Alan was able to find a slight relief when he saw that not only were several of his Spells once more listed as active, but the initialization of his Class also caused the {Mirage Step} Technique to come online.

From the moment Alan observed the tiny green woman Azala seamlessly integrating {Mirage Step} into her stellar swordsmanship to dispatch her colossal Foxman adversary, he had been dying to try it out for himself. Preferably under far less dire circumstances than his predecessor.

It only took a few seconds to locate another oddity that couldn't be so easily explained. All of his Class Skills were listed with a percentage, all of which were currently listed at 0%. Rummaging through the freshly unpacked Class information his brain was working overtime to process and store away required more mental effort than it ended up being worth, but Alan was able to determine without a doubt that just as he had assumed, those percentages marked his current proficiency with his Class Skills.

Being able to visually track upcoming Class Skill Levels at a glance was an extremely convenient addition, one that he wished had been adopted by the rest of his abilities. Yet similar to normal Skills, Spells and Techniques, the [Warden's Arsenal] had no such distinction to its description. Which made it difficult to determine how exactly he was supposed to progress his Class armor.

Alright. This Class-Bound Armor is listed at Level 1, so there has to be something I can do to improve it… So far I've pretty much just used my abilities with little to no idea on how or when they would gain the next Level.

In a bid to solve this unexpected development, Alan returned to his Class Skills tab only to find that without a Class Upgrade Point to his name, he had no way to navigate to the Class Upgrade tab. It was unsurprising, yet it still aggravated the living shit out of him. Left with no choice but to once more go digging around in the tender section of his memory where the knowledge of his Class was being stored, Alan fumbled around, poking clusters of information at random until he found what he was looking for.

Suddenly, acquiring Class Upgrade Points was even more important than it already had been. As Alan had just discovered, the [Warden's Wardrobe], and likely everything else listed under the Class Upgrade tier were going to require additional Class Upgrade Points if he was going to add additional Levels.

Stomach full, and energy at an acceptable level, Alan was fed up with sitting around. He was ready to make his way to the mist shrouded tower on the island, but that provided him with another complication. He was fairly certain that nobody was going to sneak up and steal his Storage Case while he was following up with Su'ong, but he was a bit wary about the contents of her message. If the problem she mentioned was going to end up in a fight, leaving his storage device behind without knowing if he could access the contents from such a great distance seemed like a foolish move.

While the Storage Case wasn't all that big, Alan wasn't excited about the prospect of attempting to swim the lake without dropping the big ass box that was undoubtedly going to be strapped to his back. Is it waterproof? Or am I going to end up drowning everything in my storage space? “What am I going to do with you?..“ Alan mumbled, lifting his case by the strap and holding it out at arms length.

With no time to determine the limits of his Storage devices range, and unwilling to risk needing something and not having it, Alan slung the case over his shoulder and secured its strap to one of the many odd hooks protruding from the belts on his chest.

Just as he was about to hop into the lake, Alan spotted the expired Lake Chub that he'd discarded the day before. It looked better than he would've expected after sitting out all night, but the meat was beginning to fester. Making a mental note to come back in a day or so to try to acquire a new pathogen or two, Alan crouched down and dove into the lake.

It took nearly five minutes of medium paced swimming to reach the island. The Storage Case slapping against his back was an unwelcome distraction, as was the growing school of Lake Chubs. A few brave specimens even took the opportunity to nip at his toes, but thanks to his ever increasing Stats and the lake keeping him cool, Alan reached his destination unharmed, with slightly more energy than when he set out.

Alan sighed, looking up at nearly fifteen feet of sheer rock face between him and the roiling fog enshrouding the plateau that housed the tower, knowing that he was going to have to find a decent spot to climb. From across the lake, it hadn't seemed like much more than a chin-high wall, but when viewed from directly below, it was plain to see that he was mistaken.

Swirling clouds of mist made it difficult to determine whether or not something was up there waiting in ambush. It seemed unlikely, he had been invited here after all, but as he stared at what amounted to a magically windless hurricane cloud rooted in place, sluggishly churning around an isolated tower hidden in the depths of a murder Dungeon, it was easy for his imagination to wander.

A casual search of the rocky beach revealed little in the way of life. There were a few isolated patches of waist-high reeds, and a strange coating of blueish moss clung to every surface. Slipping and sliding, forced to slow his pace down to a crawl to avoid potentially snapping an ankle or worse, Alan kept his eyes peeled for a viable grouping of handholds that would allow him to reach the top of the island.

Alan was pretty sure that he could save a lot of effort if he were to jump up and grab the lip of the cliff, yet the same slippery blue shit was smeared across every inch of the wall. It was a risk he was unwilling to take until exploring all of his other options.

By the time he located what he was looking for; a narrow, uneven staircase, Alan's feet were dyed indigo and bleeding from several small cuts. A small pool of knee deep water that was connected to the lake by a long trench separated him from his destination. Eager to get to solid ground, instead of walking around, he shrugged and began slogging right through the center.

Startled by the sudden arrival of an intruder in its hunting grounds, a bright red crab the size of a small dog scuttled out from under the rock it used for ambush purposes.

A muffled pop, and a distracting pain in his left ankle jerked Alan to a sudden halt. Face pinched up in an angry grimace, Alan looked from side to side. His careless drudge through the water had stirred up a dark cloud of silt, so he was finding it difficult to determine if he was under attack, or if he'd snagged a toe on some unseen obstruction and was now overreacting to what amounted to a self inflicted accident and nothing more.

Standing still, using the errant swirls of debris radiating outwards from where he stood as a sort of low tech motion detection system, Alan kept a look out for any sudden disruptions. After a few seconds of careful inspection he noticed that something just ahead and slightly off to his left was disturbing the flow of the current. The gloomy cloud of silt seemed to break over an unseen obstruction and was settling at a rate that rapidly outpaced everywhere else.

Glancing to his right, Alan watched the lazy swirls of silt continue their slow dance just below the surface until reaching the shore, where they finally began to disperse. There was no mistaking it, the water to his left was clearing out so fast that it almost appeared it was being filtered by an unseen mechanism. A part of him wanted to get the fuck out of that water. All it would take was a [Meteoric Rush] to reach the opposite embankment. He would likely slip on moss and eat shit on the landing, which would allow whatever may or may not be stalking him from the not-very-deep depths an opening.

With the Safe Zone protections in place, he decided that taking a bit of a risk probably wasn't going to be too detrimental in the long run.

Besides, I don't like the idea of turning my back to an unknown and obviously hostile beast.

Another muted bang sounded out from underneath the water a fraction of a second before something small and hard as fuck slammed into the side of Alan's kneecap. It wasn't nearly enough to knock him down, but it happened so fast that he only had a vague idea of where the attack came from. This wasn't the time for thinking.

Alan needed to figure out what he was dealing with, and he needed to do so now.