I saw the light. The light at the end of the tunnel. 'Yes... Please end this misery.'
Yet no end came, and the pounding headache continued. I opened my eyes and found I was laying on the guest bed I had commandeered, and "the light" was, in fact, not "the light," but a shabby window streaming in the morning from the other side of the dusty room.
I could feel my heartbeat thumping in my head. I was sure it wasn't supposed to be up there, but what did I know. I was a tailor.
With a deep reverberating groan, I lifted myself upward on the bed and assessed my surroundings. The 3x3 meter guest room, tucked away on the second floor of Bassir's... well, our shop was cosy as ever. Everything was as I had left it yesterday, as in, the sole window on the opposite side of the bed was still open, letting in the chilly winter air. The light shafts from the opening poured into the small room, showcasing how dusty the room was by piercing the particles floating in the air.
Under the window stood my old workbench with my leatherworking tools laid haphazardly on it. The walls were plastered with animal fur carpets, and so was the ground. The small uncarpeted areas under the workbench had a visible coating of grime.
As it would turn out, cleaning without a vacuum was a lot more tedious and thus didn't tend to happen as often. I'd always told myself it just added to the room's charm, which, truth be told, it did.
The Lurker greeted me as it did any other morning by staring straight into my soul with its lifeless eyes. And I mean "lifeless" in the most literal way of the word. Bassir had cut off my first opponent's head, taxidermized it and placed it into a corner of my room. He had also conveniently "forgotten" to tell me about it and had "accidentally" planted the "gift" into my room while I was sleeping.
It at least wasn't hard to wake up that morning, I'll tell you that much. Bassir better thank his sturdy door for his life, as my leatherworking knife wouldn't go through it. The door still had the scars of my attempts, with each cut ever grander than the last, fueled as I was by the growing giggles of Bassir on the other side.
I tossed the fur blanket off me and rose from the fur bed onto the fur carpet. As you might have noticed, I said "fur" an awful lot there, and I know. Trust me. The longer I've lived with Bassir, the more I've grown certain that this guy had an unhealthy relationship with the stuff.
"Lad, it just keeps me warm. Ain't nothing more to it!" He would bellow when questioned, but I didn't trust it. This was too much, and even the outside air seemed to think so, as although it was cold with the window left open the whole night, it wasn't nearly as freezing as it should've been... 'Actually, maybe he was onto something with that fur thing?'
I grumbled, noting to forget about it and put on my clothes, strewn across a wooden stool by my bed. The old garbs I arrived into this world with had broken ages ago, with my pants breaking on the very second day by the claws of the Lurker. Now I had a thick dark grey coloured tunic and some white trousers.
Once my tunic was securely fastened with a belt, I staggered out of the room with unsteady steps. Bassir had already made his way downstairs, evident from the open door to his chamber. I carefully manoeuvred down the ladder-like stairs into the kitchen/living room/dining room. After the first time I'd slipped and fallen on the stairs, I made sure to be overly vigilant in the future, specifically when hungover.
Once at the bottom, I noticed a much less boisterous Bassir sitting on one of the only two chairs in the room. I sat next to him and began chugging a water tankard.
"Hungover?" Bassir inquired, only to be met with a stare that elegantly conveyed: "Why do you even ask?"
Bassir was the one that had literally dragged me into the tavern, as he had done nearly every other day since I became his apprentice. At first, I'd even been eager to meet new people and to have fun, but that eagerness was swiftly hammered down by the seventh Dwarven beer hungover.
"Come now, lad! 'T's only training!" He poked.
"Yeah, yeah. So what's on the agenda?" I asked, not taking the bait.
"Hmm. Thinking of checking for Gnashers," he contemplated while I laid some salted meat on my bread slice.
I raised an eyebrow. "Gnashers? I thought you said you'd taken care of all the dangerous animals in the forest." Bassir had boasted multiple times that he had eradicated all the harmful forest creatures, barring the exceptions like the fledgling Lurker I had fought.
Bassir grinned. "Ah, but Gnashers are a different breed. They're smart. Adaptable. After the first couple I took down, the rest knew not to show themselves when smelling me."
You could think of Gnashers as molerats. If molerats were veiny, knee-high balls of muscle adorned with big, happy grins filled with fangs dripping with venomous spit. The venom wasn't even the good kind that killed you, but the type that paralyzed you and prevented your blood from clotting, granting you a pleasant last few minutes as the little bugger hugged your leg with its teeth. I hadn't actually seen one yet, but from Bassir's description, they had seemed rather delightful.
"Oh, so the meatballs are smarter than the master trapper, huh? Maybe you need to learn a thing or two from those things." I couldn't help but tease with a smirk.
Bassir shook his head, knowing I was jesting yet still having to defend his honour. "Don't be ridiculous, boy. I've hunted down more Gnashers than you've had hot meals. They only come out in winter, when they breed and are more hungry. Keeping warm takes a full belly, ya see?"
"Uh-huh," I replied noncommittally after finishing the slice of rye bread. It tasted good, having been harvested a little over a month ago, at the end of fall. I didn't know what meat was on top as we had so much of it, gaining more and more stockpiles once the winter came with easy refrigeration. "So, we heading out now?" Bassir had also finished their breakfast.
"You're coming with? That's a surprise. The more time passes, the less you feel like my apprentice," Bassir lamented, a little happy that he was getting company. I had been making winter clothes recently, so I didn't join as many of Bassir's escapades.
"I've always wanted to see a Gnasher after your unique explanation. Might as well use the chance to catch some fresh air," I explained, rising up and walking to the pile of firewood below the stairs. I had taken to use the hole to store my outerwear.
"Great!" Bassir rose from the table and tossed the slab of meat out the window into a nice pile of snow we had gathered. It was handy to access it straight from the kitchen. "It'll also be great practice, as Gnashers can be quite dangerous, even for higher levelled folks."
"Ehh, really? The bestiary didn't mention it had high initial stats?" Bassir had given me his bestiary, yet it was a stretch to call it that, as the man wasn't really a scholar. It was more accurate to call the book a collection of scrambled notes.
"Ahh, see, that's the point most would get themselves killed on! Levels don't mean shit in the woods. They only help or hinder, yet the deciding factor comes from the situation and how you let it play out." While listening to Bassir's explanation, I put on my leather vest, gloves, and boots. I loathed the feeling of having snow in my shoes, so I made sure to make the shaft extra long. I topped the outfit with a warm fur coat and hat while arming myself with a recurve bow and a long dagger.
We headed out of the house onto the cold alleyway as Bassir continued his teachings: "You can kill a level 30 Gnasher with a crossbow just by pressing the trigger, yet the same Gnasher could kill a level 120 archer if they didn't notice it and let it. The poison would paralyze the archer unless they had high vitality or a Skill, and the anticoagulants would rob him of their blood, all the same."
Snow fell around us as we walked toward the city gates through the frozen streets. "Now, don't get me wrong, an archer would have great Perception and swift reflexes to get out of the way or shoot the beast from a distance, yet that isn't a guarantee. What if the archer was preoccupied with something, or wasn't an archer but a high-level scholar or a leader instead?" Bassir's words made me pause as I understood where he was going with the lesson.
"The scholar or the leader would have likely invested more heavily into mind, and thus wouldn't notice the ambush, or wouldn't have enough agility to dodge the dash..."
According to the bestiary, Gnashers were very lazy and slow. Though in short bursts, they could move at impressive speeds. Instead of chasing their prey, they waited for the target to wander by, ambushing them from out of sight.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
"Indeed. That's precisely why I've been telling you to upgrade either Agility or Perception. Those two stats will help you the most in danger, and believe me, the one thing you will find anywhere on Drakmir is danger," he justified.
"No need for the sales pitch. You know I already allocated my points there," I responded, frustrated by Bassir's insistence on the value of the two stats. I had heard the same argument numerous times, although never triggered by the topic of Gnashers.
I couldn't find fault in his logic, as while Strength, Endurance, and Vitality would make me a better combatant, so would Agility and Perception, with the added benefit of being able to avoid trouble in the first place. Mind, on the other hand, was more complicated. Although it would be invaluable in strategizing and spellcasting, you needed to fulfil conditions for those aspects to shine. The stat would be rather useless for my everyday survival, as I had no spell teacher, a skilled team of combatants, nor high enough Perception to gain enough time to strategize.
Yet that all being said, I still had to increase Endurance and Mind to counteract the effects of Agility and Perception, lest I become feral or crippled. The balance of stats was a delicate one. If I increased Perception recklessly, I'd become a mindless beast in the best-case scenario, with the worst-case being brain death from overstimulation. On the other hand, if I increased my Agility too much, a casual movement could leave me drained.
Sadly the future of me becoming some 250 IQ demon was unrealistic unless I walled myself from reality by disregarding Perception and went all in on Mind. Most strategists and pure scholars did this as they didn't have to worry about noticing ambushes or becoming lost in their own minds. Such a thing was only preferable for them.
We reached the sturdy city gate and greeted Begnik on our way out. The younger dwarf, Nalat, wasn't with him this time. The security was a little more relaxed during the day.
"Well, let's start moving," Bassir encouraged, with a nod and flew off toward the lake. I followed shortly after a quick stretch. The running wasn't really so bad once you got used to it. I could already hold a jog through the woods without much drain on my stamina, sprinting taking a little more out of me.
The gear felt a little sweaty after a while, so I tied the fur coat around my waist using the coat's arms. The dead leaves crunched satisfyingly under the thin carpet of snow.
----------------------------------------
Congratulations!
Endurance +1
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Ah, how fitting. I'd been waiting for this level-up for a week now. Status.
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Status
Human - Level 7
Name: Derek Carter
Age: 21
Sex: Male
Stats
HP 160/160 - SP 224/230 - MP 210/210
Vitality: 16
Strength: 14
Endurance: 22
Agility: 23
Perception: 20
Mind: 20
Free stat points: 0
Skills
Passive:
Linguist - MAX
Mental fortitude - Lv. 3
Poison resistance - Lv. 1
Active:
Guide - Lv. 1
Intimidate - Lv. 4
Tracking | Novice - Lv. 8
Leatherworking | Journeyman - Lv. 5
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During these 3 months, I had reached level 7, each increase granting me 4 free stat points. I had respectively allocated them between the four stats, Endurance, Agility, Perception, and Mind.
It still felt bizarre how well I could sense now that my Perception was at a staggering 20. I could see the texture of the trees a meter away as if they were right in front of my eyes. I could feel how the wind twirled against my skin, and each drop of sweat rolling down was easily locatable. My sense of smell wasn't overwhelmed by a single source, and instead, I could separate the scent of decomposing leaves from my own sweat and the aroma of the trees around me.
Yet perhaps the most disorienting sense was the sound. Even though I could only catch glimpses of Bassir running ahead of me, I could clearly hear his footsteps on the crunchy ground, even though my own were obfuscating them. I often wondered if this was how wild animals felt. It was exhilarating.
Apparently, I was quite the freak of nature. Ordinarily, humans would start at 0 stat points in each area inside the womb, gradually gaining the 10 default points throughout their childhood as they grew and tested their abilities. The final points would be granted after puberty once the child was developed. After that, although you could still earn free stat points, it was much more difficult.
The system still treated me as a newborn and kept fast feeding me the stats I was supposed to get while growing up. Easy activities for me, like hunting in the forest or crafting intricate pieces of clothing, kept demonstrating my abilities granting me points. Honestly, I was surprised I hadn't gained them all yet, but I suppose there was a hard cap for how much you could get in a short while.
Now the freaky part is that I already had my race specific 10 default points... This meant that once I "grew" to my race's default values, I would, in fact, not be standard but have twice the points in every stat. I was 15 levels ahead of any other human by default, and I had never ceased thanking the goddess after I realized that fact. I doubt a literal divine being would make such a mistake on accident, so it was probably meant as a headstart, seeing as I was new to the world and the system.
I heard Bassir's footsteps stop in the distance. He must have paused by the lake shore. I jogged toward him, and as the trees thinned, I could feel a freezing breath of air caress my face, seeping into my bones.
The beautiful crystal lake was revealed in all its glory. I could never get enough of the lake. The fact remained even in winter.
The waterfall was still roaring away reverberantly as if resisting the cold grasp of winter itself. The white mist from the bellowing cascade melted the snow atop the icy lake, polishing the shell into a reflective mirror. Only occasional ripples interrupted the surface as lonely snowflakes drifted to their doom, drawn as they were by the lake's allure.
Bassir exhaled deeply, lost in thought while knocking on the wet ice. It seemed we both appreciated the sight. "Thinking we could go straight over. Looks thick enough," he explained, a little fainter than usual.
The atmosphere was capturing, yet time waited for no one, and soon the lake's ice was crackling under our feet. We didn't dare run this time, instead holding a more leisurely pace. The wintery landscape brought me back to last night's conversation with Gornik.
Ever since I had settled down in Milgar, I'd always had this sense of unease lingering around me. The feeling only intensified once I started tailoring, even though my quality of life only increased. The sole respite from the anxiety came from the periodic hunts with Bassir.
I, to my very core, loved experiencing new things. I loved exploring and seeing other cultures. I loved adventuring...
In my previous life, that'd been taken away from me by that damned mortar shell and, perhaps more importantly, by my own idiocy. I had resigned to my "fate". I had deemed my dreams impossible, even when they weren't, only realizing the truth after my condition had deteriorated too far.
Even after being sent to a whole nother world, I was still going through my old routine. Deep down, I still believed I couldn't do it. That, I was still laying on that same hospital bed I'd spent my last excruciating decade on.
Looking at the serene scene in front of me and the satisfaction it brought, it didn't take a genius to connect the dots. I was dreading the concept of settling down. I loathed the possibility of repeating my previous life's mistakes. Of working and working for the wrong goal. Who needed money when you were miserable? Who needed a big house when you were happier in the wilderness without one?
I needed to stop the facade. No, I was not happy. I was never content because I never tried to be. I never sprinted toward my own goals, instead striving for something others sought.
Mine and Bassir's soft steps tapped along the lake's veil, creating rippling artworks in the mirror. I had to do something, yet a century of conditioning was painful to shake. Even now, dropping the act terrified me. I wanted to dismiss these suicidal thoughts as but a psychotic episode. Staying still and forming a spiderweb of connections was safer, even on Earth. Going against that survival instinct was hard.
Yet, after dying once already, I could confidently say that dying happy right now was a lot better than living a lifetime of regret.
I needed a wake-up call. I needed a drastic change. Otherwise, I would back out again.
I needed to let my old ways die, along with my old self.
I... "I need to leave Melgir," I murmured faintly, masked by the dancing snow, yet I knew Bassir could still hear me. Not long after, I received a deep, long sigh in response. We kept looking ahead, making our way to the opposite shore.
Bassir had expected this situation would come sooner or later. "I know," he breathed out, clearly solemn at the thought of losing his companion, roommate, business partner, and friend. "You, err... leaving now?" I didn't own much, so such a question was well warranted.
"Yeah... I think so. I need to leave tomorrow," I replied, just as solemn for the same reasons. I'd always hated goodbyes.
"You sure? Ya know, yer still weak. Gotten a lot stronger, yes, but... could wait til spring, just to be sure. It'd be a lot warmer as well," he reasoned, trying not to push too hard. The only thing worse than goodbyes were goodbyes after heated arguments.
"I know, you're right. It's just that I don't know if I could leave after another three months," I answered, trying to be as honest as possible. "For longer than you might expect, I've wanted to explore. To see what's out there and gain new experiences." Bassir remained quiet, so I continued my muted explanation. "I feel like if I were to stay still and extend my roots, I'd be betraying myself."
I thought Bassir deserved to know this much. I felt like I was robbing him by learning his lessons as his apprentice, only to disappear once I'd gained enough. Bassir, kind as he was, seemed to understand my plight. "Yeah. That sounds about right... Honestly, it's rarer for the younglings not to leave the nest. Most go out exploring at least once in their youth. Just didn't think it'd be so soon with you," he admits, still a bit sullen. "Hell, even I fled my pops after he wouldn't let me leave, only to be hunted down by him the very next day... In hindsight, it wasn't that smart giving the slip to a tracker."
The mood seemed to visibly improve after Bassir's reminiscence, and I wasn't about to let it go back down. "How about this. Let me hunt the Gnasher alone this time. To prove I got what it takes to survive out there," I contested, only now looking at the man directly. "You said they'd prove a challenge even to the higher levels, right?"
Bassir seemed to brighten up at the banter. "Ohh, lad. Ya sure that ain't just all talk? I'll tell ya, those sons of bitches can be a pain to spot. Hell, I'll even give you the win if you can find one," he chuckled. Bassir's enthusiasm threw me off, and now even I was doubting myself. Maybe I'd let the stat boost get to my head.
"Prepare to lose, then." Feigning confidence, I took the lead, with Bassir following a tad behind. Before long, we were by the treeline on the opposite shore. It was exhilarating getting that confession off my chest. The instant I decided to leave, it was as if a great weight was removed from my shoulders, and I could breathe again.
If Gornik were to ask me the same question right now, I'd have an immediate answer ready for him... No, I was not happy, but I knew how to be. And I would be. I will be.