Inside a rental tent, the mental notifications ping once more.
[It has been 16 hours. Allocate your free stat points.]
“Why should I,” Sebas mumbles. “What if I need them? Plus, don't tell me what to do. You are my god window, after all, I’ll do what I want when I please.” Sebas dismisses the strange notification from his mind. Holding the lowest rank potion vial in his hand he twirls it around in the gaps between his fingers, his
Deciding that the choice is a burden, and having lacked proper sleep for who knows how long within the dungeon’s cycle-less embrace, bright light seems like the optimal time for one to rest and recoup.
Awakened by a compressed numbness within his arm, Sebas gets up, time spent sleeping unknown, or it would be if he had not heard: [It has been 27 hours. Allocate your free stat points.] Nodding solemnly while shaking the sleep out of his dead limb, he sits upright and thinks about keeping a single stat point available for an internal clock, despite the monotonous dull ambient voice that tells him to allocate his free stat points.
A vibrant feeling of thousands of ants crawls through his hand as Sebas forces the blood to flow through the dead limb. A face of disgust forms as he opens and closes the unbearable palm, he shoves his belongings into the satchel and disassembles the tent, giving it back to the adventure’s guild representative.
Something draws him to the blacksmith: an old man, hardly 80 years old, with hardened skin wrapped around practically blind eyes, the strange man has yet to sleep it would appear, something peculiar draws him in as Sebas speaks at him. “You need anything?”
“Money, maybe a son, then again a girl wouldn't be too bad if I were a bit younger.”
“Huh?” Sebas says, “I mean is there anything I can do to help out.”
“Depends. D’ye wanna get paid or something? What's a fuzzy silhouette like you gonna do with money.”
“I was trying to get this Identified. Doubt I can afford it.” He holds out the stained dagger he had been using the past day and a half as a hunter’s tool.
The old man mutters “[Old Iron Dagger] huh…” Rubbing his chin he looks around and back up to Sebas, a few thoughts from Sebas about the man’s inability to properly see, and what can only be assumed as extremely rude things that would be horrible if thought aloud.
“How much firewood can you get me?”
Shrug.
“Yeah, that'll do, 20 coppers and a tree or two.”
“Really? That all?”
“Why? You don't want this humble master’s generosity? Not enuff for someone like you?”
Sebas smiles, meeting another crazy old narcissist, it seems ridiculous in retrospect, but he's grown fond of their characters, something about them brings a playful fighting spirit into his mind. “All I got is the dagger, it's not much to go and fell trees.”
The old man goes through a small cask, handing over a hatchet to Sebas.
Sebas holds the small axe in his right hand, curious about the item.
[ Forge Fuel Collector ]
{ Common }
10/10 Durability
+ 5 Damage
“A small iron hatchet, made by the Blacksmith Orav, Tons of care have been put into its creation, the blade is nearly 10 years old, it might get a skill soon.”
“What is this on the description of the axe getting a skill?”
“Don’t believe everything you read lad.” The blacksmith holds a magnifying glass over the iron dagger, looking over it, “The God of the Forge makes every bit of the weapon unique, it is probably a joke on his part.”
“The gods can joke?”
“They made me and you didn't they?”
“Wow, harsh gramps, real harsh.”
“Why are you still here? Go get me some wood kid.”
“Alright, alright.”
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A secluded horned rabbit sits in the middle of a forest grove, unlike a real horned rabbit, it just stares into the distance, a patrolling dungeon officer, waiting for a victim to arrive for their prison-mandated stabbing time.
Sebas quietly walks to the back of the beast, stealthily placing one foot behind the other, hatchet hidden to not shine glare towards the prey, with a single swift leap, his arm slings forward in a blur and domes the poor beast.
[Notice: Kill confirmed, Level 1 Horned Rabbit]
[Experience Points have been collected]
[It has been 28 hours. Allocate your free stat points.]
No~. Sebas uses the very tip of the top of the hatchet to remove spoils from his kill. This time the horn of the beast is not ruined and that means he can presumably eat something nice for dinner.
[Satchel: 1x Lowest Rank Potion, Braided Metal Wire -> 1x Lowest Rank Potion, 1x Rabbit Pelt, 1x Rabbit Horn.]
This is simply too easy, honorary elven hunter Sebas, you’re too good. Sebas grimaces at the thought of his “Rat Master”, It is uncertain if he will see him again. Shaking his head, the young adventurer begins to tear away at the black bark of a tree, small difficulties form in the technique, as he first attempts to use the hatchet like an axe, causing vigorous vibrations to shake through his body. A few slight test swings bring a small crumb of wood out from the log.
Several strikes towards the middle of the cut, progressively making the slice a bit wider, a sharp pain comes from behind as a rabbit slams directly into the back of his thigh, with a solid grasp on the creature’s nape, Sebas attempts to snap it’s neck like his master once did, only to get a retorting bite from the beast. Sighing, he holds the axe to the creature’s neck before the words of his master’s last piece of advice. Using a cursed skill? Surely that would benefit only in the form of bad luck.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“... Rat master… what do you know…”
Sebas opens his mouth and his teeth glow with a red aura, the horned rabbit thrashes around in his grip, the bloodlust within the skill emanating as the beastly human closes in on the rodent’s throat. A small relief of color goes away from the teeth as the skill disengages, staring at the rabbit “You know, I could let you go,” Sebas says, as the rabbit calms down.
“Maybe.... you should have thought about that before headbutting me from behind.” The rodent begins to squeal and thrash to its best ability, the human’s teeth glow once more, and with a blur, the rabbit’s neck is sunk into by the [Bite].
[Notice: Kill confirmed, Level 1 Horned Rabbit]
[Experience Points have been collected]
[Skill Experience has been gained.]
[It has been 28 hours. Allocate your free stat points.]
“Skill Experience, huh?” Sebas says, wiping the metallic taste from out of his mouth. He ties the bleeding-out monster to his belt, the small blood droplets occasionally burning into blue flames as Mana returns to the dungeon.
----------------------------------------
Thud, Thud, Thud, Thud, Thud, Creak, Groan, THUD!!! The mighty oak… fir falls to the not-so-mighty Sebas, who begins to use his
“Ah fuck. Oh!… no what if… OW! Nope!.” Sebas says as he drops the log back onto the ground.
[It has been 29 hours. Allocate your free stat points.]
“You know what, Maybe I fucking might!” He says as he embeds the axe into the tree, plopping down to will his focus onto his stat allocation.
[Access. 5 Stat Points are available for Distribution.]
“No shit? Really? How many stat points is 5? Is that more or less than 4?”
[Access. 5 Stat Points are available for Distribution.]
“Shh… shutthefuckup…”
[Access. 5 Stat Points are available for Distribution.]
Vein bubbling, focus waning, Sebas breathes deeply and focuses extremely hard on his
[Strength 9 -> 10]
Sebas thinks for a moment, not certain if it will be necessary to dump the entirety of his stats into strength-
[It has been 29 hours. Allocate your free stat points.]
Suppressing rage, Sebas withholds his breath, closing his eyes, silently shooing the mental message the god window desperately wishes for him to know, if he didn’t know any better, there could be a stat point or two available to be distributed.
[Constitution 5 -> 9]
“What. No “thank you”? Nothing to say for yourself?” Sebas rants to himself and the fussy mental noises. He feels plentiful itching as his wounds begin to heal more than they were able to before, scars seem to be throbbing as the body shuffles around and rearranges, and he appears to start sweating as the curious sensation begins to release waste from his pores.
“Ew… what the fuck…”
Sebas sighed and lifted the giant log with considerable ease compared to before, now his threshold was closer to a large cobble to the lesser end of small boulders, Easily able to lift the tree onto his shoulder after removing the limbs at the top of the lumber.
----------------------------------------
After a successful delivery and a fruitful dip in the river across the grove from the fort, Sebas arrives with a brand-new tool at his disposal.
[ Once-Adored Hunter’s Blade ]
{ Uncommon }
20/50 Durability
+15 Damage
+2 Dexterity
“A blade that has been seen by many hunters, perhaps one of them was famous once, not that they would recognize such a dull blade, even by the business end.”
“The blade is too chipped and fragile for me to fix it, if you want me to fix it, I will need something interesting to replace it with.”
“Interesting how?”
“Ye know alpha horned rabbits?”
“I might.”
“Bring me one of its horns or a claw, something like that.”
“I doubt I would be able to kill one of those things, you think too highly of me.”
“Well, never said bring the thing to me, all you're offaly scrawny to be any real hunter boy. See if you can buy it off of that party of warriors and mages, I remember you staring at me all freaky like when you were first here.”
“Stare at all children you see sir?”
“When they have the same hair color as you, sure, though you might been a dragon or something.”
“Didn't know dragons had hair mister.”
“Shut up wiseass, pay me your owed.”
Sebas sighs, and releases his pursestrings, watching the number fall once more, to his heart’s displeasure.
[Coin purse - 1S 85C -> 1S 65C ]
“Doesn't have to be an Alpha per se, just any of the rats with 3 horns will do.”
“How much?”
“Are you kidding me? Cheapskate kid, don’t you care that your blade cries each time you use it?”
“Sir there are places we can take you if you hear voices, I hear there's a cute girl at the church that old men love.”
“Filthy brats have to pay 12 Gold coins for my services.”
“I would like to apologize to this master artisan.”
“You don’t have any shame do you kid?”
“No sir, not at all.”
“Hm, give ya a deal, 5 Silvers, 3 Trihorn horns, it HAS to be from a trihorn.”
“Yes sir, of course, is there any chance this humble worthless youngin could receive a discount,” Sebas says, groveling on the ground, focusing on his
“Yeah, no.”
“Tsk, I’ll be back old man.”