Novels2Search

SIXTY-SIX: Canopus

With his punishment done, Melmarc returned to the room. Behind him, Jude groaned and winced and muttered incoherent words, still leaning against the wall. Melmarc didn’t know if the incoherent words were words of anger or words of pain.

What he knew, however, was that if the tables were turned and someone had just broken his ribs, he would definitely be angry. But only out of context.

If he’d done what Jude had done to him and had gotten his ribs broken for it, it would be a fitting punishment. Melmarc was already in the room when the thought crossed his mind and he paused.

That was a lot to assume of himself. And while he fully expected his mind to disagree with him—to declare the thought dissonant—it did not.

Melmarc had a feeling he was supposed to be glad for it, but just couldn’t bring himself to be glad. Knowing yourself and what you were capable of was always a good thing. But having this level of certainty of who you were was… wrong.

What was a person that didn’t allow himself to question himself? It could breed arrogance. Also, such a level of dependency on his ability to note his own dissonance didn’t sound like a good thing.

Not being dissonant doesn’t always mean being right.

Melmarc looked back at Jude. The man had a hand on the right side of his chest. His face was twisted in pain and he had stopped muttering. His eyes, however, remained fixed on Melmarc. They were currently in a bit of a daze. It was most likely an effect of the pain.

You just made yourself an enemy.

If that was true, then Jude had no business being a rescuer. A Delver didn’t have to be morally right to clear a portal, but what happened when you gave a man with no moral obligation the power that came with being a Delver?

They panic and shoot kids.

Melmarc sighed, returning his attention to the room. The Delvers here watched him as if they were watching an oddity. Melmarc couldn’t care much for it. But if he could care for it, he would say that he didn’t like it. The staring. The worry.

If anyone should be staring with worry, it should be him. Once again, he noticed he had all of them in his view. They were not in his direct view but they were within seeing position. And Jed was, again, just at the edge of it. Was the Delver doing it intentionally?

“Satisfied?” Naymond asked.

Melmarc looked at him and found him standing, though he was rested, leaning against a half-crumbling wall. Claire stood beside him. She was trying to look casual about it but Melmarc could see the brief worried glances she gave Naymond.

She wasn’t convinced that he was fine.

Melmarc nodded in response to Naymond’s question. “A little.”

The question was odd, though. Personally, he would’ve expected the [Sage] to use the word ‘happy’ instead of ‘satisfied.’ It was just something about how the man was sometimes very mocking. Because of that, his choice of words felt intentional.

He knows something.

But whatever he knew could come later. Right now, what was important was clearing the portal. If it had been over twelve days outside, then the mentorship program had to have ended. If that was true, then Ark would be home. And Ark would be worried by his absence.

The last thing Melmarc needed was for his brother to start harboring ideas regarding his absence. Ark wasn’t known to stay one place.

Or stay safe.

“So what are we doing?” Melmarc looked around, met each Delver’s eye except Nelson who was still lying down on the ground. “What’s the plan?”

Clinton was the one that answered.

“The plan is to find out where this Orb of Caldath could possibly be,” he said. “We just got in so there’s very little we know. “So Naymon—”

“Mr. Hitchcock,” Naymond corrected, making Clinton falter slightly.

“Mr. Hitchcock,” Clinton rectified, “will tell us what he knows about the portal, and we’ll make a plan from there. From my little experience so far, I’ll assume there’ll be a lot of fighting. A lot of loud gunshots, too.”

“You should probably ask Mr. Lockwood those questions,” Naymond interjected. “He’s the one who’s actually been hanging around. I’ve been doing more of making sure I don’t die. Poorly, might I add.”

Clinton frowned at that. Then he turned his attention to Melmarc.

Melmarc waited as if he wasn’t sure of what was happening.

“Any information you can give us would go a long way in helping us,” Clinton said at last.

The Delver had technically bitten out the words. It was almost as if he was averse to saying them.

As if he doesn’t want my help. Why?

The man had been more than happy to have his help when they’d been surrounded by infant [Damned]. What changed?

Melmarc’s mind went to Jude. Had what he’d done to Jude played a part? Did Clinton suddenly not trust him because he’d beaten one of his men and gone the extra mile in breaking his rib?

That was a little stupid and pretentious, if Melmarc was being honest. It would be stupid to trust the man who’d shot at a kid over a kid who’d protected himself. Wouldn’t it?

Naymond sighed. “You aren’t helping any matters squad leader.”

Clinton started where he was. It took him a moment before he looked at Naymond.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“He means that the kid has too many thoughts going through his head,” Jed said. “And I’m guessing its your fault.”

Clinton’s frown deepened. This time he leveled the deepened frown on Naymond.

“What?” Naymond shrugged. “I’d have to be blind and eyeless not to see that you don’t want to work with him.”

Jed nodded. “True.”

Then he took a step back, carefully placing himself out of Melmarc’s view. Melmarc didn’t like it. He took a step to the side, placed half of the man back into his periphery.

Once upon a time Melmarc hadn’t liked not knowing. Knowing was very important to him, because the more he knew the more he could deal with. Especially in Ark’s case. His brother was so prone to daring deeds that someone had to look out for his safety.

Now, however, he was beginning to think he really didn’t like not knowing. Like not knowing where the people around him were standing. Like not knowing if Jed was going to do something to him while he couldn’t see the man.

Sounds like paranoia.

Melmarc really hoped it was just the portal and this paranoia wasn’t something that was going to stick with him. He also hoped it was actually a healthy response to his situation and not paranoia.

Clinton pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger in a tired expression. He inhaled deeply, then leveled brown eyes on Melmarc.

“It’s not that I don’t want to work with him,” he started, then paused. Shaking his head, he tried again. “Actually, you guys are right. I don’t want to work with him.”

Well, Melmarc wasn’t very worried by that. He would still have to close the portal, regardless. They could take the lead and clear out the [Damned], not that he wanted them to, killing the [Damned] did give him [EP] and he had a feeling he’d need as many as he could get. And not just for [Optimum Existence].

Still, while they tried to get the Orb, he still had to fight Caldath. So there was that. Wanting to work with him or not was unimportant.

Naymond sighed. “But?”

Clinton cracked his knuckles. “I have no beef with Marc. I just want to start by putting that on the record.”

Melmarc paused, realizing something. Why was he allowing Naymond do the talking? Because they were surrounded by adults and Naymond was the adult between the both of them? Or was it something else?

He didn’t think Naymond was still mediating right now. There was no negotiation going on. Melmarc wasn’t trying to get something.

Twelve days in a portal and you still think of yourself as a kid among adults.

Melmarc didn’t mind the thought. The time he’d spent in the ruins gave him some level of knowledge over the ruins, but he would be stupid to assume it suddenly made him an adult. So he settled for the conclusion that he was saying nothing because children normally didn’t interject when adults were speaking.

“Now that that’s recorded,” Naymond said. “Please continue.”

“A child shouldn’t have to Delve,” Clinton continued with a sigh. “He should be thinking about school. Where he wants to go. If there’ll be pretty girls there. He should be thinking about if he wants to be far from his parents or close to his parents. If he’ll be able to make good friends or not.” Clinton gestured around with a sweep of his hand. “Not this. A child shouldn’t be doing this.”

Melmarc wanted to point out that it was already too late to be worrying about that last part but said nothing.

“I don’t want to work with him,” Clinton continued, “because he’s not supposed to be here planning what should be done with us. He’s supposed to be at the center of whatever formation we take while clearing the portal. Safe. Secure.” He ran a tired hand through his hair. “Everything has been wrong since we got in here. At this point I’ll have to drop a petition against Jude once we’re out of here. I owe the world that much.”

Jude made a sound where he was, an incoherent groan.

“A little bit of a belated decision, don’t you think?” Claire pointed out. “We all stood while it happened. We kinda tried to justify the entire thing, too.”

“And we were wrong. A Delver who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a kid should be cause for worry.”

To his surprise, all Melmarc got from this was that they were wasting time. What had happened had happened. Jude was forgiven but not forgotten. What became of him after the delve was also not his problem. His problem was getting back home to his family.

If his parents were finally back from their deployments, which he believed they likely were, they would be worried. Gravely.

And he didn’t want to worry them.

Naymond’s attention moved to Melmarc. It was a slight thing, almost capable of going unnoticed. Then he returned his attention to Clinton.

“Got it,” he said to Clinton. “Now that we have that, how about we move on. You need knowledge of this portal. I can give you some. Whatever I can give you, Mr. Lockwood can give your four times, maybe six, including whatever I give you. So let’s ask him questions, get answers, and move on.”

Clinton looked at Melmarc. Reluctance colored his expression. He was clearly warring with his decision. Morals against logic. In the end, logic won.

“What can you tell us about the portal?” he asked.

“I’ll start with the simple things,” Melmarc said. “I haven’t spent any time in the part of the portal where I found you.”

“Simple enough,” Jed said.

“But I’ve spent time in other parts,” Melmarc said. “Enough to say I have an idea of where the Orb is.”

“And where’s that?” Clinton asked.

“There’s a castle. If we run, we should be able to get there in a few hours. But the problem isn’t getting there but entering.”

Clinton frowned. “What do you mean?”

“These guys.” Naymond nudged the [Damned] that had almost killed him with his foot. “They’re swarming all over the entrance.”

Melmarc turned to him, surprised. “You got that far?”

“Yep,” he grinned, proud of himself. “But not farther.”

“Why?” Clinton asked.

“Two reasons. One, I had my amazing student to look for and protect at the cost of my life. And two, I actually couldn’t take them.”

Melmarc ignored the student comment, but Clinton’s attention sharpened on that.

“You’re his teacher?”

Naymond nodded. “They didn’t tell you when you guys were entering?”

Clinton shook his head. “No.”

“Curious.” Naymond stroked his jaw. “Then I’ll assume you don’t know what my occupation is.”

“All we know is that Alfa made a very big mistake and needed help fixing it,” Jed said. He’d slipped outside Melmarc’s periphery again. “We know the kid’s part of the mentorship program and they needed help getting him out and clearing the portal.”

“And you guys were confident that he would be alive?” Naymond shook his head in mock dismay. “You underestimate portals a little too much.”

Oddly, something in his expression when he said the last part rubbed Melmarc wrong. It had been a little too serious. Was it because of Veebee?

There was a strong chance that he wouldn’t ever find out. For one, topics of Veebee tended to be lost in translation. The second reason was that whatever expression Naymond had carried before he’d gone to find the Delvers was gone. He doubted that fear and need to keep himself alive by giving all the information he had was still there.

Melmarc still didn’t like that Naymond had really believed that he would leave him. It continued to rub him the wrong way.

“We were also told his rank,” Clinton added. “A B-rank Gifted in a C-rank portal could be alive if he just found a safe place and stayed there. So we were hopeful.”

“What about me?” Naymond asked.

“We were just told to find you.”

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“You were kind of secondary,” Jed said.

Naymond placed a hand on his chest. “That hurts me deeply.”

Dissonant.

For the first time in a very long time, Melmarc smiled. It was a genuine one. He hadn’t needed the thought to know that Naymond was lying.

Something about the fact that he could still smile soothed him, calmed him.

“Alright, Marc,” Clinton said, pulling the conversation to the main topic. “What do we need to know about this place? This castle.”

Melmarc shook his head. “Not much. The castle ground seemed large with the main castle at the far back. From what I could see, it was tall. Massive. Then these guys,” he gestured at the [Damned] on the ground, “filled the entrance I saw. I don’t know if there’s another entrance, but the few times I went there, I could only see one.”

“A gate.” Clinton’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Do you know what kind? Was it a normal gate or a portcullis or was it a kind of draw bridge?”

“It was a hole in the wall,” Melmarc answered.

Clinton paused, quiet for a moment.

“If it was a hole in the wall,” Jed said. “Then it means there’s a gate somewhere. Another entrance. Unless the hole used to be a gate.”

“Whichever one it is,” Clinton said. “I think it’s good news for us.”

“Why?” Melmarc asked, not that his mind wasn’t going through all the possibilities as to why it could be good news.

“Because,” Jed said. “If its just a hole in the wall it means the wall can crumble and already is.”

“And Nelson has some explosives on him,” Clinton added. “So we can make another hole.”

“Sneak in through there,” Jed explained. “We can bypass unnecessary fights that way.”

Melmarc wasn’t sure how unnecessary the fights were. For him, every fight he could get his hands on seemed necessary. With the reward of [EP] dangling in front of him as well as what it was capable of, he found himself with the urge to fight. The motivation.

But he would not push it. It was one thing to fight the [Damned] on this side of the portal, and it was another to fight the ones he’d seen at the gate.

“So which one was it?” Clinton asked.

Melmarc didn’t know. “I never saw a gate. And the hole I saw didn’t look like it had been a gate once.”

Clinton and Jed shared a look. On the ground, Nelson was finally stirring. Slowly, like someone with a hangover, he pushed himself to his knees. Then he picked himself up, rising to his feet.

He staggered once before catching himself.

“Welcome back,” Naymond said, cheery. “You didn’t miss much.”

Nelson’s eyes settled on him first, then they moved to where he had once been lying down, dying. Then his attention swiveled to everyone in the room.

“What happened?” he asked, voice weak.

“You hit your head,” Naymond answered. “You tripped, fell, and hit your head. Jed, over there laughed, but no one blamed you. It was a nasty fall.”

Nelson frowned, looking confused. “I… I didn’t trip.”

He looked at Clinton as if to confirm his words.

There was a moment’s pause before Clinton said anything. “It’s the better story, Nelson.”

Nelson squinted. He looked behind him, beyond the room. Jude was quiet, conscious but quiet. Right now he had his entire attention focused on his breathing, looking at nobody.

“I didn’t f—” Nelson began.

“Take the story, big guy,” Jed interrupted him. “Trust us. It’s the better shame.”

Nelson looked to everybody. They all had the same expression, something solemn. They said it was the better shame and Melmarc understood it. It seemed like they held the man to higher moral standard than Jude. To them, sticking to the story that a professional Delver had attacked a child was a greater shame than tripping and falling as far as Nelson was concerned.

Of everyone in the room only Naymond was smiling.

After a while, Nelson nodded. He accepted the better shame.

Children are easier, Melmarc concluded. And what he meant by children were people his age. You could always trust a bully to bully you until things made them stop. You could always trust a boy to have a crush on someone.

As diverse and annoying as they could be, they were true to it. But here was a series of actions he could not make heads and tails of.

Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe adults were just as simple and easy to understand. Maybe he was the one that made it complicated. He’d rarely had extended interactions with adults outside of professional settings. Teachers. Principals.

The only adults he knew well were Dorthna and his parents. And all three of them were a sharp contrast to the people in front of him. Dorthna was jovial and friendly and always there when he had to be. Melmarc’s dad was mostly quiet and his words meant exactly what they were. And his mom was all love when she was around.

Naymond was Melmarc’s first complicated adult and he’d always thought the [Sage] was an outlier. Even Alfa was always fed up with him.

The adults Melmarc knew always had their life together. These ones, however, seemed to be all over the place. Indecisive. Perhaps he was expecting too much from them.

“Moving on I say we find another space in the wall and blow a hole in it,” Jed offered.

“We’ll draw attention to ourselves,” Clinton said, looking down at the [Damned] on the ground. “If these things are anything like the ones we fought, I don’t want anything this large chasing after me.”

“So we move quickly.” Jed shrugged. “The only issue we could possibly have is Jude’s rib, but he should be good by then.”

Nelson looked at Melmarc at the mention of Jude’s rib but said nothing.

“He’s right,” Naymond said. “They aren’t that difficult to deal with.”

Beside him, Claire frowned. “Last time I checked, you almost died to one.”

“Accumulated damage,” Naymond said with a nonchalant shrug. “Also, people like me aren’t meant to survive alone in a portal. We work best with teams.”

“So we hit them hard and we move,” Jed said. “Your skill put down all those babies, Clinton. So I’m sure we’ve got the firepower if it comes to a fighting situation.”

“Not with the kid.” Clinton shook his head.

“Marc’s already proven he can handle his own,” Jed pointed out. “I say that should be the least of our worries. What do you say, Marc? Scared of a fight?”

By all accounts it was a stupid question. Still, Melmarc answered it.

“No.”

Jed returned his attention to Clinton. “See.”

“But,” Melmarc interjected before Clinton could say anything. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“What if what specifically doesn’t work?” Jed asked.

“The explosives,” Melmarc answered. “What if they don’t work?”

Melmarc had a strong feeling it might not. It was just a feeling. The entire ruins of Caldath was exactly that, in ruins. But nothing was ever out of place. every rubble, every broken wall. Even as rundown as it was, no matter the force any of the [Damned] used to hit the wall, the best he’d seen happen was the building shake or dust fall.

By all accounts, with what he’d done and been through, at least one building should’ve crumbled to the ground. But nothing like that had happened.

“Trust us,” Jed said. “We can blow a hole in the wall. If we can’t, then we’ll take the hole that’s already there.” He looked down at the [Damned] in the room. “If they’re all armed with shovels and baking pans, we should be fine.”

It seemed he had paid attention to some of the other corpses in the building.

“They are not,” Melmarc said. “The ones in this area are armed with simple tools and farming implements. But not the ones at the castle wall.”

“Yea,” Naymond said, supporting him. “I saw one with a sword once. It was long and sharp. Could take our heads in one swing.”

“The ones we faced have some kind of sharp tongue,” Clinton said. “Pointed, could pierce a hole in a person. Do these ones have that?”

Claire touched her neck softly where she’d had an injury.

“No,” Melmarc said. “But they have quick movements. Faster than the one you guys faced. They’re strong, too.”

Jed looked down at the [Damned] with a new expression.

“They also move quickly,” Naymond smiled impishly. “You could blink and be dead so I advise keeping your eyes peeled at all times.”

“Is that how you got got?” Jed gave him a mocking smile. “Eyes weren’t peeled.”

“Oh definitely not.” Naymond made a dramatic gesture, dismissing the implication. “It was a combination of unpeeled eyes and really shitty combat capabilities. You see, I’m more of a desk Gifted. I’m that guy that sits at his desk playing solitaire while pretending to work.”

The smile fell from Jed’s face at the realization that he couldn’t get Naymond with his words.

“From what you’re saying,” Clinton jumped in, “I take believe it should be safe to assume that the ones at the castle are for combat. Which would make these ones…”

“For support,” Claire finished with a shiver.

Melmarc had already considered that. But having it said out loud made him realize something else. Well, ‘realize’ wasn’t really the word. He’d already assumed it somewhere at the back of his mind, he’d just not given it any real focus.

If he’d been fighting the domestic [Damned] ever since, and the ones at the castle walls were for combat, that meant one thing.

They’ll be faster and stronger.

Could he handle faster and stronger? How would he react to a sword flying at his head? It was one thing to go against weapons and it was another to go against weapons. A bread pan or a spatula or a chair used as a weapon swung at you was different from having a sword swung at you.

You’ve already been shot at. Twice. You’ll be fine.

The moment the thought filled his mind, Melmarc sighed. He already knew what would come next.

Dissonant.

“And there goes any future attempts at a pep talk,” he muttered to himself.

Clinton turned to him. “What was that?”

Melmarc shook his head. “Nothing.”

He just wanted this entire thing to be over with so that he could go back home. He really wished he hadn’t put his mind to it. Thinking deeply about what was about to happen and who their opponents were was doing more harm than good for his mind.

In self defense he’d sparred a good number of times with unarmed opponents, but never with someone using a weapon. The only self defense he’d ever learnt when it came to facing an opponent with a knife was simple.

Turn and run. And if he couldn’t, then he had to accept that he was going to get cut, probably stabbed.

Melmarc could picture himself facing off against a knife and surviving with terrible injuries. But a sword? His mind pulled up the sword he’d seen attached to one of the [Damned] at the castle walls. It was almost as tall as him.

A fight against that was going to be violent and terrible. And with the numbers he had seen at the castle walls and the possibility of how many they would find within the wall, it might as well be a small battle they were about to fight.

“Are you good now?” Clinton asked Naymond.

Naymond shook out his leg, tested his limbs. Even in his severely tattered and blood stained suit, he still somehow managed to strike a regal visage. Like a prince who’d gone for a ball and had gotten into a very terrible scuttle and won.

“I’m good,” Naymond answered. “Give me another fifteen minutes and I’ll be telling you the color of the stars and which way Canopus trots and the color of his walking stick.”

Clinton paused, confused. Then he looked at Melmarc.

Melmarc shrugged. Why’s he looking at me? I don’t speak Sage.

Clinton must’ve misunderstood the reason Melmarc shrugged because he asked, “What’s a Canopus?”

Melmarc knew that one. Delano had said something about it once.

“A star… I think,” he said, not entirely sure. It was either a star or a constellation. Constellations were stars, though… right? A group of stars?

Melmarc shrugged, more to himself this time. “That’s all I’ve got.”

“Is it important?” Clinton asked. In the corner Nelson leaned against the wall. Melmarc wasn’t sure the man was a hundred percent yet.

“I saw stars,” Jed pointed out. “Maybe that’s how we can locate the castle.”

Melmarc knew how to locate the castle without looking at the sky. Was that how Naymond kept track of the castle? What else did he keep track of using the stars? And how had he even thought to use the stars when they were in a portal?

Just how enigmatic was the [Sage] class?

Then a thought came to him. Something Naymond had said to him once upon a time.

“Take that as lesson thirty-two,” Naymond had said about how he’d predicted David Swan’s reaction to seeing him at the beginning of Melmarc’s mentorship program. “The fact that you’re with a Gifted doesn’t mean that everything you find slightly improbable is explained away as a skill.”

Maybe the star thing had nothing to do with being a [Sage]. Maybe it was just experience. Maybe it was—

Melmarc caught movement on Naymond’s face. A barely concealed smile. The [Sage] was amused, entertained.

Melmarc sighed and his thoughts on the matter scrambled. It had simply been an expression, like being hungry enough to eat a horse. None of it mattered. Naymond’s amusement was in the fact that they were taking him seriously.

Their eyes met and Naymond winked at him.

Note to self, Melmarc thought. Learn when to take Naymond seriously.

In his defense, he wouldn’t have gotten caught up in it if Clinton hadn’t been the one to take Naymond seriously first.

“Well,” Clinton said after a while, turning to Naymond. “I guess we’ll just let you lead the way. Nelson, get Jude.”

“Oh, fun,” Naymond said cheerily. “His thirty minutes can start counting.”

As they all turned for the door, another thought worried Melmarc. They were about to head into something dangerous, something he now truly understood was dangerous. So dangerous that he’d estimated it to be a mini battle.

So why am I excited?

“Mr. Lockwood.”

Melmarc turned to Naymond, realizing he’d stopped walking for a moment.

“You coming?” Naymond asked.

Melmarc nodded. Still, he checked his interface before he continued, pulling up a specific skill.

[Secrecy (Mastery 11.08%)]

The Gifted secures an area of their choice in a bubble of mana that traps sounds from escaping and obscures outside sight.

[Remaining Uses: 1/2]

Just as he’d expected. He hadn’t gotten the second charge. Which reconfirmed that it only regenerated once he had used up all the charges, the same way [Rings of Saturn] worked. It was also already past ten percent mastery but he hadn’t been offered an evolution.

Isn’t it growing a little to fast?

He’d gained the skill at two percent. If he added the three percent permanent addition from being an [August Intruder]—whatever that truly was—that would mean he’d started at five percent. If he added the two percent quest bonus that meant he’d started at seven percent. At eleven percent, if he removed the two percent bonus then that left him at nine percent.

Four percent growth in such a short time was a fast growth rate. But all together, he was almost at ten percent, regardless. Anyone that found out about this would be astonished. Melmarc knew [August Intruder] was part of the growth and would only apply at the beginning of gaining a skill, but it was still phenomenal growth.

At this rate he couldn’t picture his growth potential being anything less than an S-rank. Too many things were happening to him too quickly and he needed to settle down and unpack them. But now was not the time.

“Just a moment,” he told Naymond who was already out the door.

He twirled his hand a little, activating a ring of mana around his wrist.

[You have used Secrecy]

[Remaining uses: 0/2]

Melmarc turned and threw the ring of mana out the window. It burst into a dome somewhere in the distance, not that he paid attention to it.

This was good. The last thing he needed was to get into a battle and use it once just to find himself waiting for it to recharge.

Again, the thought of getting into battle sent a touch of anticipation running through him.

What is happening to me? He thought, not for the first time.

If he ran into Veebee again, the creature was going to have to answer some questions.

For now, he turned to his interface as it popped up again.

[Congratulations!]

[Base mastery is at 10%]

[Secrecy (Mastery 10.01%)(12.01%)].

[Would you like to upgrade your skill or acquire a new skill?]

Acquire new skill, Melmarc thought. Preferably something simpler.

[Please know that you can renege on this decision.]

[Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time have been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]

[Yes/No]

Melmarc stared at the notification and started walking towards the exit. He definitely wasn’t going to say no to it. At the exit, he peeked out. Naymond and the others were a good distance away.

For now, he would just take a glance at the options as he caught up to them. He could do the selection during the journey. Hopefully there would be no pain.

Yes.

A moment of discomfort filled Melmarc as he thought the word. A small pain pressed down on his stomach as if one of the [Damned] had kicked him in the gut.

Melmarc groaned in pain and caught himself from falling with a hand on the wall.

He held back his discomfort, tried to keep it from his face. This wasn’t fair. He really didn’t want another contaminated skill.

[Anomaly detected]

[Due to detected and resolved anomaly, re-calculations have been made]

[Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of supporting skills has been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]

[Yes/No].

Even though he knew the pain was done with, Melmarc was a little worried to respond. Still, there wasn’t really an option here. He needed all the advantages he could get.

Before he replied, however, he pulled up his interface, now walking a few paces behind the others.

[Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]

[Class: Faker – Vitality of the Drunk (Mastery 02.09%)]

[Rank: B]

[Growth Potential: Unranked]

[Existential Designation: August Intruder +3% mastery to all skills]

Skills

[Knowledge is Power (Mastery 12.89%)(14.89%)]

The Gifted releases a burst of mana that comes back to them as information

[Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 11.93%)(13.93%)]

Conclusion of skill Knowledge Is Power grants +1.5 increase to all stats for eight minutes and a potential status buff based on number of life forms detected.

[Rings of Saturn (Mastery 13.93%)(15.93%)]

The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around they’re body and can attack with it.

[Secrecy (Mastery… Pending evolution)]

The Gifted secures an area of their choice in a bubble of mana that traps sounds from escaping and obscures outside sight.

Perks

[Optimum Existence (02.00%)]

The August Intruder draws on all necessary traits to achieve a perfect form.

Stats

[Agility 4, Balance 6, Mental 3, Mana 5, Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Accuracy 3]

Traits

[Calculating…]

Melmarc stared at the new pieces of information. He had two new sections. Perks had [Optimum Existence] which wasn’t really a surprise. Though he was surprised that while it had a percentage, it didn’t have the word ‘mastery’ next to it. It most likely meant it wasn’t something he could grow through understanding.

I guess only [EP]s work on it, he thought, turning a corner that led to the exit out of the building where the others were waiting for him outside.

The fact that his mastery wasn’t showing for [Secrecy] was self-explanatory. So he moved his attention to traits. It was still calculating. That section would help him better understand what was happening to him. What dissonance was all about. Why he had so desperately wanted to punish Jude. And why he was feeling anticipation at the thought of fighting a large number of deadly [Damned] instead of just fear.

He really hoped it wouldn’t keep calculating until he got [Optimum Existence] to ten percent, or worse, a hundred percent, because that would take forever.

Now that Melmarc had the information he needed and was reasonably calmed, he pulled his interface back to what was currently important.

[Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of supporting skills has been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]

[Yes/No].

Yes.

The notification changed and Melmarc stared at the new one. His jaw dropped in confusion at what he saw.

“What the hell?!” he hissed.

[Melmarc Jay Lockwood, based on your mastery of skill Secrecy you have proven efficient in 0 skills. Would you like to evolve skill Secrecy?]

[Yes/No].