“That was amazing,” I said, looking over the crumpled body of the large Rust Wing.

“I just did what I had to do,” Jack answered.

“What...what Rank are you?”

“D+. Why?”

“Ah...that explains it.”

“How about you?

“I’m...F-.”

“Really? You know, I heard some rumors around town…”

“What kind?”

“That you’re the weakest man that the Company has ever hired.”

“No th—“

Do not lie to him.

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Hm…”

Jack’s eyes scanned me, and a deep shame filled me. How weak was I compared to him and everyone else?

“Well, do you want some help leveling up?”

“Huh?”

“Some help to level up. I’ll keep you safe, and you can fight and do your jobs with no worries.”

“Why?”

“Why not? I trust you, and going forward wouldn’t it be good to have people you can trust?”

“Are you serious?”

“Completely. Now...what would be a quick way to do this…”

Heart blood. My ego said, Tell him about your situation, I’m sure he’ll understand.

I sighed.

“Well...here’s the thing…”

“What?”

“The Blood they gave me? Right, well it’s killing me.”

“Really? What do you mean?”

I pulled my PID out of the front of my jacket, and opened up the skill page for, ‘telekinesis.’

+35 DAYS OF LIFE stared back at him.

“So...according to this, unless you raise your stats up high enough, you’re going to die...it doesn’t say how long, though.”

“Less than six months,” I answer.

“How do you know?”

Should I tell him about you?

Yes.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“When I took the blood, I began to hear a voice. It tells me how long I have left from time to time. Well, more like threatens with that fact to get me to do what it wants.”

He looked at me incredulously.

“So far his intuition has been good…”

“So what does this have to do with getting you stronger quicker?”

“If I drink the blood from the heart of monsters...I get stronger.”

“Wait, really?”

“Really.”

“Would it have the same effect on me?”

It will.

I nodded.

He grinned.

“Then how about this: while we’re here, let’s kill as many things as we can. The distribution will be 6 for you, to 4 for me. That way we can both get stronger quicker?”

“Do you really need to be stronger?”

Jack nodded.

“If I’m here, I might as well make the most of it, right?”

“Are you sure I can take six?”

“You need to get strong quickly, right?”

“I suppose.”

“Then it’s decided.”

Is he a saint or something?

“So, what about that thing there.”

I pointed to the dead, Great Dane-sized Rust Wing.

“You can have it. The goal is to make you stronger, right?"

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Go for it.”

I treated it like I treated my first Rust Wing crow; prying open the tin plates on its chest, which were now about as large as my hand from the tip of my middle finger to the middle of my wrist, tearing open the flesh, and prying the metallic bones away. I cut the heart free, and puncture it. It’s bitter going down. My PID dings as soon as the heart shrivels in my grasp.

[6/20 Heartblood Consumed. 8% Mastery to Anima Manipulation, 5% Mastery to Perception, 5% Mastery to Agility]

That’s actually a pretty incredible increase.

“If you take the feathers on its wings, and its tail, they actually sell pretty well,” I tell Jack as he is picking up one of the others.

“I’m just going to bring the whole body back.”

He uses his knife and tore open the plates and then tore out the heart.

“You just…” he punches a hole into it and puts it to its lips. He rips it away just as quickly, as his nose crinkled and he made an audible gagging sound. The red elixir dribbles out of the hole and spills on the ground.

“Christ that’s foul.”

“Isn’t it? Wait until you try the rat’s blood.”

He pinched his nose and tipped the heart to his lips again. It shriveled in his grasp and turned to dust just as it was drained. He then checked his own PID.

“Huh, that unlocked a new stat. Anima Manipulation, do you have that?”

“Yeah.” I answered, “Came with the telekinesis.”

“Anima Strengthening huh? That sounds neat.”

“Huh? No. I have Anima Bullet as my unlockable skill.”

“I wonder if it’s because of the different bloods we took.”

“What do you figure you took?” I asked as I picked up my pistol and dusted it off.

“I have no clue. Since coming here, however, I’ve felt strangely strong. How about you?”

“I have no clue.”

I am of the brood of Fafnir. Tell him that.

“The voice tells me that it’s, ‘of the brood of Fafnir,’ whatever that means.”

“Fafnir...no way.”

“What?”

“Fafnir was the name of a dragon in Norse Mythology. Killed by a hero named Siegfried. If your blood came from, 'a brood of Fafnir…’”

“A dragon?” I glanced down to the chest, where I had always pictured the voice emerging from, “Are you a dragon?”

We have many names, but, yes, that is one.

“Does that mean you’ll be able to like...fly and breathe fire eventually?”

“That would be amazing.”

No.

“Ah. I guess not.”

I reloaded my pistol and put it back in its holster.

“Well, that’s too bad, but you know what? I’m excited to know that dragons actually exist. Even more excited than learning elves exist.”

Jack put two of the dead crows into his backpack wrapped around in what looks to be the peacoat.

“Really? Why is that?”

“Man, I loved dragons growing up. Had books about mythological dragons from around the world. Did you know that in Western countries they’re usually a sign of chaos, but in Eastern, they’re usually a sign of good luck? Like Heaven’s will be manifest. Carl Jung actually said this stems from the Serpent in the Garden of Eden.”

“You don’t actually believe any of that Bible shit, do you?”

“And why not? There are elves and fairies, and, now we know, dragons...why not talking snakes and angels?”

“If God created everything then who created god?” *

That was the question that stumped me when I first started going back to church right after my last try at rehab. I thought it such a deep, deep, philosophical question that usually stumbled any religious nutbag that tried to talk me out of my supposed sinful ways.

We began walking through the twisting, turning path. I stopped for a moment and set my bag down.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Well, I figured while we’re here, we might as well gather as many hearts and mastery points as we can.”

I pull out the roll of paracord and look around. I scrambled up to the fulcrum points of certain parts of unsteady shelves of metal. Climbing them was tricky; sharp metal points poked at my shins, and there were times when a piece of metal would fall straight down, nearly taking me with it. Once one point was tied off, I’d give the cord some slack before cutting that piece of cord, hopping off the pile, and letting it dangle there.

While I was doing this, Jack got the look on his face as if he had just remembered something, and went back to the clearing. I watched him as he picked up the discarded brass spread out in the rusty dust.

Once I had three tied off in different locations down the path, I gently led the cords back to the mouth of the narrow canyon of rust and junk. I hand the cords over to Jack.

“Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to get the attention of as many rats as possible, and then I’m going to run through here. When I give the single, pull on those as hard as you can, okay?”

“Ahh, I understand.”

I took a deep breath, set my bag down by Jack, weaved my way underneath the cords, and headed to the last location where I remembered seeing the rats with my pistol drawn. As I neared the fork in the canyon’s road, a large rat, about the size of a gray hound, stepped out from underneath a pile of junk. It bares its teeth at me like before, and the darkness stirs to life all around it. I shift my foot backward, to act as if I’m retreating a step. More rats emerged. 10. 15. 20. 30. 40...all of various sizes. One charge at me, and I lift my pistol and fire once. The bullet turns the creature’s head into mist, and I run for my life: 40 some odd rats running after me.

When they got too close for comfort, I’d turn around and fire a shot into the approaching horde. One out of every three shots is a hit, and one goes down, and my PID would ding informing me that my Pistols had increased in Mastery by another percent.

I neared the narrow canyon and picked up the pace. The leader of the pack was nearing me. Jack was at the front, fiddling with his PID.

“Now!” I yelled to Jack just as I passed the third trap.

Jack turned around and pulled the three cords, but not before the other two had turned their heads to look at the horde of rats following me.

“Holy moly,” The man whispered.

The three shelves of junk fell and crashed over the bulk of the horde. Like before, the largest of the rats managed to be faster than the trap could activate. I stopped, spun on my heels, and lifted my pistol. At the distance it was at when it leaped for my throat, I didn’t even have to aim before pulling the trigger.

[15% Mastery to Trap Making, 10% Mastery to Endurance, 10% Mastery to Intelligence]

[Endurance has advanced to F Rank from F- Rank]

[ Personal Rank has advanced to F Rank from F- Rank]