Vern didn't need to be a genius to realize he had grown additional appendages, even if his comprehension of what had sprouted from his back wasn't quite what you would call intuitive. A few desperate moments had passed as Vern had struggled to see and feel his new limbs, finally managing to move one enough that he was able to grab hold of it and drag it in front of his face. Unsurprisingly, huge reptilian wings had sprouted, and Vern found himself somewhat glad, all things considered. Unfortunately, his attempt to make use of the wings spawned from his back had turned into what could essentially be described as awkward flailing. Growing wings might sound cool, but it turns out, a flightless animal can't just be handed wings and expected to know how to use them.

Giving up on the idea of flight, Vern redirected his attention and charged towards the nearest intact stretch of treeline. His janky, lopsided run almost threatened to topple himself several times, but with a little willpower, Vern managed to reach his destination. Reaching what appeared to be an alien forest. Vern took refuge beneath massive, spined trees, their trunks possessing a living marbled effect, whilst their palm-like branches created an impenetrable canopy of purple leaves above. Watching as several indiscernible figures flapped impressively large wings along the horizon, Vern was more than a little glad he had reached cover.

Something else had happened, something that had somewhat terrified Vern. He had felt his throat drying up, the pangs of hunger growing in his stomach, and the onset of weakness. It was obvious he had needed to eat and drink, however, after inadvertently consuming the Doomdactyl’s blood, he felt fine. No, it was more than fine, he felt completely revitalized. Whilst not having to figure out a way to cook the strange, dinosaur-like creature was an obvious plus, Vern really didn’t like the idea of possibly being relegated to stealing the blood of corpses like some kind of strange, sci-fi vampire the rest of his life.

Thankfully, Vern’s troubled musings had to take a backseat for now. Gliding over to where he had been, a dozen or so Doomdactyls began to circle through the sky. Vern couldn't be certain of the beast's motives, but they shortly decided to move on, flying across the expansive wreckage in moments. Vern even spotted one of the huge birds diving down every now and again, making him wonder if there had been additional souls aboard the ship, some that might have even survived only to be picked off by the terrifying, flying beasts as they gathered themselves.

Worst still, unfamiliar and terrifying bestial roars echoed out from throughout the forest he had just claimed for shelter, reminding Vern that he was far from safe. With that being said, Vern knew exactly how fearsome the Doomdactyls were, and was fairly certain he'd have turned into breakfast if not for the previous one trapping itself. That and the fact that at least a dozen of the huge, Jurassic beasts were flying overhead, that had made the decision easy; he was going into the forest, alien beast ahead or not.

It hadn't taken long for the sparse foliage of the forest's perimeter to manifest into dense undergrowth. Vern noted how much it reminded him of a rainforest, save for the fact that the purplish-blue fern-like bush that covered most of the ground was undeniably alien. Soon, Vern found himself on the lookout for signs of unsolid ground, as patches of inconspicuous swamp covered increasingly large areas of the forest floor. It hadn't taken long for Vern to send a boot straight through the watery surface blanketed by purple lilies, but once he had, it was fairly easy to tell it apart from the shrubbery that cover solid land. However, that luck wouldn't last for Vern, why would it? In what looked like a narrow stretch of land between arching trees, Vern placed a foot on what he perceived to be solid earth since the purple lilies were missing, only to sink instantly with a muffled gasp - almost completely submerging himself. Inciting further panic, Vern felt an impending sensation of dread when he realized his feet were unable to reach the swamp floor as he desperately began paddling toward the surface. Various vines and other debris floated through the swamp slush, turning the struggle for dry land into a labored battle, but thankfully Vern hadn't gone too far from the edge and was able to pull himself ashore.

“It’s deep, really freaking deep,” Vern muttered as he panted for breath. Having already been introduced to some of the life on this planet, the idea that much of the forest floor was covered by a swamp whose depth he could not determine, was more than a little disturbing.

“Okay, it’s just a swamp, and I’m on dry land,” Vern reassured himself as he tried to gather his composure. But as he did, the spiked edge of an unidentified exoskeleton ominously slithered through the purple blanket that rested atop the water, only a few meters from Vern. “And it has monsters, of course, it does.”

Not wanting to stay in one place, Vern forced himself onward, albeit with great care. Sticking to the tree trunks, and even leaping between them when the gaps were larger than a couple of steps – there was no way he was taking any chances of falling back into the swamp water.

With growing confidence, Vern was starting to feel like he had discovered the cheat for this place. As long as he stuck to the trees, he would be safe it seemed. A grin crept across his face as the triumphant thought played on his mind.

Barely a moment later, a tremor began to shake the ground, and suddenly Vern found himself struggling to balance. "Why," Vern groaned. Several meters away through the thicket, a tree began to animate itself; the purple palm was actually uprooting itself. No, it wasn't a purple palm like most of the trees around him, Vern realized. As the figure shifted, what had looked like a trunk expanded into several limbs. Four huge limbs, each armed with vicious-looking pincers spread out from the creature's body, whilst two similar-sized legs broke the ground around it as they climbed out from the earth beneath it. The creature was a giant stick insect.

Stabbing forward, all four arms descended on Vern - their surfaces appearing to be coated in a gooey, viscous substance.

To Vern's surprise, he actually felt faster than before as he leaped out of the way, taking advantage of a nearby tree push-off. Unfortunately, that speed was somewhat hampered by his lack of coordination - thanks to his newly acquired wings. Instead of flying backward as he imagined, Vern sent himself sprawling across the ground in an uncontrolled tumble. Luckily for Vern, the far larger insectoid had even greater trouble navigating the tight quarters of the suffocating forest, seeming as if it relied mostly on catching its prey with swift surprise attacks, rather than pursuing them. Unluckily for Vern, his uncontrolled tumble sent him hurling straight into swamp water, and this time, several meters from the refuge of the swamp's edge.

Slamming against the semi-rigid surface of the swamp – the lilies having created far more surface tension than regular water, a bad combination when hurling towards it at speed. Vern felt the air leave his lungs as the impact shook his senses. Gasping with desperation, Vern thrashed in a panic, worsening his descent into the murky water, his arms and legs becoming more tangled within the viny lilies around him with every movement. Feral water filled his mouth and Vern instantly regretted his instinctual reaction - the toxic fluid curdling his stomach and eliciting a fierce desire to hurl it all back up. But his struggle for air came first, and Vern was forced to hold his breath despite already inhaling a decent mouthful of the water. Stubbornly, Vern continued to violently thrash his legs, managing to free them with sheer determination. Free, but growingly exhausted, Vern found himself still some distance from the shore, the giant insect absent from his panicked thoughts.

Barely given a second to catch his breath, Vern's desperation took a dreaded turn when the familiar sight of the spiked exoskeleton surfaced only meters from Vern, before submerging once again. There was no more time for thinking, Vern simply swam, kicking with everything he had as he tried to create distance from himself and whatever that was. Of course, that was pointless, he was ultimately a land mammal trying to outswim a swamp creature in its own natural habitat.

Long, thin fingers... wait fingers? Vern’s heart pounded as he felt the unexpected sensation of gangly fingers wrapping around his ankle, and he didn’t even get the chance to scream as they pulled him down, only just managing to catch another short breath before he was submerged once again.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

In seconds he was pulled several meters below the surface, and if not for his immediate situation would have no doubt been terrified by the daunting depth of the swamp.

Swinging his body around, Vern tried hopelessly to catch a glimpse of whatever was pulling him down, ignoring the stinging of his eyes as he willed them open, but the murky swamp barely afforded him an inch or two of sight.

Vern's eyes darted from side to side as he swung around, widening in an instant as an ivory-white face appeared only inches from his own. Knotted black hair floated around the spectral-looking face, and a single bubble escaped its nose as empty eyes as black as the abyss opened.

His heart thumping so hard it felt as if it would burst from his chest as panic enveloped Vern. He wanted to scream, he wanted to so badly, but he didn't. Perhaps it was instinct that prevented him from screaming whilst still underwater, instead managing to hold onto the little breath he had left.

Shooting towards his neck, the thin gangly fingers then wrapped around Vern's throat, worsening his suffocation – not that it seemed necessary. Vern could only look on in horror as oxygen left his brain and its blissful embrace began to take over.

The lightheaded calmness felt intoxicating, and soon Vern found himself accepting an end to the madness he had found himself in. A violent jolt urged Vern to his senses, and a second later his blissful passing was interrupted by a searing pain against his ribs and the loosening of the thin fingers from around his neck.

He was rising now, being lifted up and through the water. Greedily, Vern gasped for air as he crashed through the surface, its life-giving oxygen filling his lungs. It took a moment for the near-death experience to pass, and for Vern to realize what was happening. Nearby, a gaunt, powdery white, human-like figure shrouded by thick black hair fought against the incessant pincers of the insectoid that raised them up and into the air, several meters above the ground, one of the pincers already clasped around the ghastly figure's stomach.

The pincers were sharp and curved, and Vern became immediately aware that the ghastly swamp creature that had almost taken his life was already spewing foul, blackish blood from its wounds. Worsening with every moment as the pincers relentlessly carved new wounds.

Vern tried to shake himself free, realizing that the flowing black hair extended like a limb from the ghastly figure, acting as an additional appendage holding him in place. Almost ready to surrender himself again - already exhausted, and feeling his body grow weak with every ounce of energy he exerted. However, at that moment Vern felt a sensation of alertness tug on him, his strength returning. Vern's eyes had blurred and the dizziness threatened to consume him, but now he focused them with a renewed vigor. The toxic black blood had run down and mixed throughout the knotted hair towards strangling his body and was now coursing into Vern's skin. Was he siphoning that monster's very life? Vern now ripped the hair away from his body near effortlessly as energy filled his veins.

Still locked in a battle for one another's lives, Vern was able to thrash his way through the water and throw himself onto dry land, immediately shuffling himself further from the swamp the moment he felt something solid beneath himself.

But the trail of blood following Vern hadn't stopped, and even as he made distance between them, the blood funneled through the air and into Vern.

Perplexed, the giant insectoid twitched its antennae and bent its head, its large domed eyes staring into the lifeless body it held. The insectoid hadn't expected the swamp ghoul to die yet, stranger still, the already gaunt figure shrunk further as the last vestiges of its blood were drained, leaving behind a shriveled husk in its place.

Vern knew when to take advantage of a good opportunity when it came, and carefully slunk away into the forest - breaking into a manic dash the moment he was out of sight from the giant bug.

“Swamp fiend slain; difficulty level – extreme. Bonus experience rewarded. Total experience earnt, thirty-seven hundred and seventy-four.”

“Level up – level seven acquired.”

“Level up – level eight acquired.”

“Level up – level nine acquired.”

“Level up – level ten acquired.”

“One ability point and twenty attribute points, allocate?”

"Levels?" Vern whispered as he escaped into the forest. As if his blood thievery ability wasn't powerful enough, Vern thought. Had it actually stolen the kill from that insectoid? Vern left the thought at that, and as soon as he found a relatively safe spot between a couple of trees, redirected it towards his leveling.

Leveling should be getting harder, Vern figured, it only made sense after all, and whilst he definitely felt that his last struggle had been hard earnt, Vern was a little surprised to see that he had gained four full levels. However, he didn't actually have an experience bar or anything, and couldn't know if he had been just shy of level seven to begin with. Not that he was about to argue, and not to mention, if not for his unique ability, there was no question he would be dead. Of course, he didn't know what abilities other classes might possess to get themselves out of similar situations. But Vern had a feeling that his unique Superior B-tier class meant something. If anyone could get an overpowered class, then why bother with all the other classes at all?

Returning his attention to the matter at hand, Vern brought up his leveling screen with a simple thought.

Strength 20

Luck 6

Perception 10

Constitution 15

Dexterity 12

Mana 8

Endurance 15

Health 22

Wisdom 8

Tech 16

Intelligence 10

Charisma 8

Toughness 12

Willpower 10

Spirituality 4

Speed 20

Blood Devil abilities; stage one unlocked.

Blood Daggers

Blood Claymore

Blood Missile

Arterial Suffocation

Violent Haemorrhage

Barrage of Laceration

Devil's Bond

Macabre, Vern thought as he read over the options. Abilities were new, and at first, a grin had formed on Vern's face as he opened the screen, only for it to quickly dissipate. It was more than a little annoying his ability options didn’t seem to provide any explanation about what they actually did. However, Vern had still been carrying around a piece of scrap metal for a weapon, until losing during his escape from the giant insect, and so the thought of getting a proper weapon definitely appealed, as his eyes lingered on the blood weapon options.

His deliberation was short, much like daggers, and Vern had no interest in having to get that close to anything. The Missiles, on the other hand, sounded a little too vague. Would he gain a bow and arrow, a rock, or maybe some kind of magic blood dart? But Vern wasn't so sure continuing to try and fight his way out of melee's was a good idea either. However, he certainly didn't want to end up with a skill to summon a magic rock or something. Whilst the Claymore, now that just sounded badass, a grin forming as he imagined a giant blood-red sword in his hands.

Vern did muse over the other options, however, they all sounded like skills or spells. And since he didn't know what they actually did, felt it would be too risky picking them; at least for his first selection.

And so, with a hesitant grimace, and the thought that a wrong decision might just doom himself swirling through his thoughts, Vern confirmed his selection.

"Blood Claymore selected."

Nothing besides the notification appeared, to Vern's disappointment. But he figured perhaps it was like a spell he summoned, rather than just a weapon he received, and so shelved the thought for now.

He still had twenty attribute points to spend, after all. Immediately, Vern placed another five points into speed, as he felt that it had been critical once again. Then he added another five to dexterity, for essentially the same reason, figuring it might be prudent to spread his points out a little since he didn't really know what benefits he might be missing out on. After that, five went to strength, since he had essentially committed himself to a melee build with his claymore, and strength seemed necessary for that. Whilst three of the remaining five points went to toughness and the rest to constitution. Having a defense to fall back on was also important, after all. And even if his blood-sapping ability had been what saved his life, Vern hardly wanted to rely on that alone.

"That'll just about do it, Vern hummed with a shrug, his thoughts returning to the claymore and just how exactly he was supposed to use abilities.