"Thank you, Gregor," I said quietly, turning to face him. The innkeeper gave a short nod, yet his eyes were still shadowed with concern.
"Get some sleep, lad," he said. "We'll talk more in the morning."
With that, he left, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
I stood there, letting the room's silence settle around me.
It was a far cry from the chaos that had just unfolded downstairs, but I couldn't shake the tension in my chest.
I made my way to the chair by the window and sat down. My mind raced with thoughts of what had happened and what might come next.
The tension from the encounter downstairs clung to me, lingering in the back of my mind like a shadow.
I needed to focus, to understand the abilities I had at my disposal if I was going to survive in this world. With a deep breath, I summoned my status panel.
It flickered into view before me. The familiar layout was a small comfort in the midst of uncertainty.
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Name Ethan Vale Level 2 XP Bar 3% Primary Job None Health Points 20 / 100 Mana Points 17 / 50 Strength 6 Dexterity 8 Intelligence 10 Wisdom 6 Luck 4 Skills Skill Mimicry (1/3), Quick Footwork Titles Cursed Rebirth, Unforgiving Free Attribute Points 4
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My health and mana had recovered slightly, a single point an hour, but it was still far from ideal.
I had four free attribute points waiting to be allocated.
My first instinct was to boost Dexterity or Strength, but with the tension in the air, perhaps Intelligence or Wisdom would serve me better in the long run.
I decided to hold off for now—better to make an informed choice than to rush into something I'd regret.
I glanced at the list of skills, focusing on the one that had been weighing on my mind since my encounter with the cloaked member of the Ironbrand Guild—Skill Mimicry.
I selected the skill, and a new panel appeared, displaying its details for the first time.
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Skill Name Skill Mimicry Skill Type Utility Skill Tier Unique Skill Description Allows the user to copy and store up to three non-unique skills observed from other beings. The copied skills are stored in available skill slots and can be used at will. Skill Slots Used 1/3 - Quick Footwork Skill Activation Automatic upon observation, manual selection for use Skill Cost None for copying, varies by copied skill usage Cooldown None for copying, varies by copied skill usage
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I stared at the description, absorbing the implications.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Three skills.
That meant every choice mattered—I needed to be strategic about what I kept.
The skills had to work together, to complement each other in a way that would maximize my chances of survival.
My eyes fell on Quick Footwork, the skill I'd copied from the cloaked assailant.
It was useful, but was it the best option for what I needed?
The thought of wasting a skill slot on something less than ideal gnawed at me.
I decided to try and remove it, to make room for something better.
But as I navigated the panel, my heart pounded.
There was no option to delete the skill.
Panic surged through me as I searched desperately.
But the answer was clear.
I couldn't get rid of it.
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[Some time ago]
[POV Shift]
Lorian moved quietly. His eyes scanned the surroundings as his adventurer team trailed behind him.
The atmosphere was thick with tension. Each member of the team exchanged uneasy glances as they approached the cavern where Ethan had recently exited.
Kieran, always alert, quickened his pace to catch up with Lorian. "Are you sure about this, Lorian?"
His tone was subtle with a hint of concern underlying his words. "The cavern... it's the same one the newcomer—Ethan—came out of. Maybe we should wait until we know more."
Lorian paused briefly, casting a glance at the cavern's ominous entrance before turning back to Kieran.
"We'll know more once we investigate. If there's something to find, I want to see it first." His voice was firm, brooking no argument.
Kieran hesitated but nodded, stepping back as Lorian led the team forward. The group moved with caution. The tension between them was almost palpable as they ventured into the dark cavern.
Lorian's instincts, honed by years of experience, told him something was wrong even before he saw the evidence.
As they rounded a corner within the cavern, the sight that greeted them confirmed his suspicions.
A guild members lifeless form lay sprawled on the ground with his face twisted in a final, desperate expression. The signs of a struggle were evident—scattered dirt, broken branches, and the unmistakable marks of a lethal confrontation.
Lorian's jaw tightened as he took in the scene. His mind shifted from initial surprise to cold calculation. Something went terribly wrong here. But who could have done this?
He stopped, holding up a hand to signal his team to stay back. They obeyed without question. The silence between them was almost as oppressive as the sight before them.
Before Lorian could fully assess the situation, Kieran's voice cut through the silence with recognition. "Lorian, that's Darius. He's one of the four childhood buddies who joined the guild together two years ago."
Lorian's eyes narrowed. His thoughts raced ahead to the implications of what Kieran had just revealed.
He crouched beside Darius's body, his sharp gaze taking in every detail—the angle of the wound on his neck, the way the ground was disturbed, and the traces of blood leading away from the scene.
Whoever did this was skilled... but not skilled enough to cover their tracks. He reached out, briefly touching the blood-soaked cloak, feeling the coldness seeping into his fingertips.
Lorian stood up slowly. His face darkened as the pieces began to fall into place.
Without turning to face his team, he issued his orders. "Search the area. Gather every clue you find." His voice was calm, but there was a steely edge to it that allowed no argument.
As the adventurers moved to obey, Lorian caught the eye of Kieran. "Follow Ethan's movements," Lorian said quietly, ensuring that only Kieran could hear him. "But do not engage. I want to know exactly where he goes and what he does."
Kieran nodded once with a serious face. "Understood."
Lorian watched as Kieran slipped away while his thoughts were still fixed on Ethan. If he's responsible for this, I need to know everything about him before making my move.
As Kieran disappeared into the shadows, Lorian lingered beside Darius's body. His mind was churning with the possibilities.
The rest of the team continued their search, their movements deliberate and methodical, but Lorian's focus was elsewhere.
This wasn't just an accident. Someone wanted Darius dead, and they knew what they were doing.
He stood there, staring down at the lifeless form, but his thoughts were miles away, already plotting the next steps.
Ethan...
The name echoed in his mind, fueling his growing unease.
He's an unknown variable, and that makes him dangerous.
Lorian had always prided himself on knowing every potential threat in Hallowford, every piece on the board.
But Ethan was different—an unexpected player who had somehow slipped through the cracks.
He turned his gaze toward the darkening horizon, where Kieran had gone.
I'll find out who you are, Ethan. And when I do... you'll wish I hadn't.