Gemima gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on her scythe as she flashed her free hand forward sending out a pulse of energy from her weapon. The odd force formed a small sphere of shimmering light around her, just wide enough to encapsulate the four possum-like creatures that had surrounded her. Stepping forward she flung the weapon around in a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree wide swipe. Like a harbinger of death, she struck at the four possum beasts as they could only watch, unable to react, wide-eyed fear evident on their faces. The creatures had silky green fur that allowed them to camouflage in amongst the trees. They lacked hands, instead they had thin membranes along the inside of their arms connected to their flank that allowed them to glide silently through the air. Each had a single, long, dexterous tail that was tipped with a sharp bony protrusion used for striking. They stood around five feet tall on their hind legs and had appeared suddenly and silently around Gemima as she had been continuing her progress through the forest.
For a moment everything stopped, before Gemima casually brushed away her taupe, greyish brown hair that had fallen over her face, revealing her distinctly human features and rich black skin underneath. Her dark brown eyes narrowed as she turned her attention to the much larger possum creature standing ten or so metres away at the base of an enormous tree. Stepping towards the beast she walked between two of the smaller, frozen possums. As soon as her foot exited the strange shimmering sphere, she heard a cacophony of gurgled groans behind her as the heads of the four possums fell to the ground and their limp bodies crumpled afterwards. She felt the all too familiar sensation of energy entering her body as she continued to walk towards the one remaining beast, clearly the leader of the group. The much larger possum creature howled in rage as it looked a its slain comrades and it instantly took flight and began circling Gemima, flying at a height of around ten metres.
Gemima looked up at the beast that was gradually increasing its speed to try and confuse her with its rapid and unpredictable patterns in the air. When it had been standing before it was tall, around seven foot in height. But now, as it patrolled the sky it appeared far larger as its three long, bladed tails swayed behind it. Unfazed, Gemima watched on, biding her time, ignoring the screeching growls of the huge creature. Before the beast could initiate its own attack, she launched her scythe at it, the weapon spinning rapidly through the air as it travelled. The beast saw the weapon approaching and tried to swerve out of its way. But it was too slow. The sharp pointed end of the scythe struck it right in the chest before the momentum of the weapon pushed it back and impaled it onto the trunk of the same tree it had previously stood beside. Blood sprayed out from the wound as the creature struggled to release itself before it soon went limp, and a flood of energy entered Gemima’s body once more.
Gemima smiled as she scaled the large tree with ease, taking full advantage of her high dexterity skill. She quickly reached the dead possum and swiftly dislodged her scythe as the beast fell to the ground with a thud. Gemima stared down at the now crumpled corpse of the possum thing with disappointment.
“Pretty pathetic for a supposed level five beast,” she thought to herself.
Looking around through the tree she spotted a few smaller possums that had been watching the battle. They looked back in horror and fear before swiftly taking flight and fleeing in all directions. Finally, Gemima hopped back down and walked over to the massive tree stump in the centre of this circle of trees she had stumbled upon. With little effort she jumped up onto the two-metre-high stump and walked over to the gold loot box to assess her spoils.
Eric held his trusty chisel and focussed his vision. His hand needed to be steady, his mind clear. He carefully lowered the sharp point of the chisel into the stone in front of him before carving out a perfect circle.
“There, all done,” he said to himself as he admired his work.
In his hands he held a dainty, finely crafted stone necklace. The chain of the necklace was made of interlinked stone pieces and the pendant was oval shaped, speckled, and entirely engraved with detailed symbols. Eric focussed his mind and closed his eyes as he continued to hold the small necklace in his muscular palms. Utilising his affinity for enchantment, he channelled his magic out from his chest, into his arms and hands, before pushing it forward into the pendant. As he did so the pendant began to glow a vivid blue colour and its symbols and shapes deepened. Within a few seconds the illumination ceased, and Eric wiped the sweat from his brow before examining his work.
Minor necklace of mana: Grants 1 additional point to the mana stat when worn.
Eric looked down proudly at his creation. The pendant necklace was one of his many recent works.
“What would father think if he saw me like this,” he smirked.
Eric was a member of the rhinotrip tribe, one of the three great tribes of the beastkin race on the planet Sahari. The beastkin, and in particular the rhinotrip, placed great value on one’s strength and physical prowess above all else. Art and crafting were traditionally seen as worthless hobbies normally reserved for slaves and peasants.
However, Eric had always been different. He may have looked the same as his rhinotrip tribesmen, but internally he was special. Eric stood around three metres tall and weighed over two hundred kilograms. His large frame was defined by a tough silver hide, bulging muscles and an impressive ivory horn that protruded from his long, snouted face. On his head sat a small tuft of blonde hair that he slicked back over his thick neck. He had a small, skinny tail with a similar tuft of blonde hair at its tip. He stood on his powerful, hooved hind legs, allowing him to utilise his four fingered hands for his creations.
The rhinotrip race had established themselves as one of the premier forces of Sahari. Eric’s father, the clan ruler, had three sons, the strongest of which would become the next chieftain. During the hunting trials, a rite of passage all rhinotrip youngsters must complete, Eric had been tasked with hunting down a sabre wolf, one of the most fearsome pack creatures of his home world. He had successfully tracked a wolf pack to within a small section of land. He then managed to separate a female wolf from the rest of the pack and was about to strike it down when he heard the fearful whimpers of something nearby. He turned and saw four adorable and frightened pups cowering beside a boulder. Ashamed and taken aback, Eric hesitated, not wanting to orphan the poor pups. Instead of slaying the wolf, he turned his back on the trial and in turn, his clan. He returned to his tribe without the pelt of the wolf, refusing to orphan the pups, and in doing so he had failed his task and brought shame to his family. He would never become the leader of the tribe, and he was banished from his clan for his failure just when the demons had descended.
The apocalypse was a welcome distraction for Eric who had always felt an imposter in his previous existence. He hated fighting, deplored hunting, and was not a natural born leader. He had always felt an outcast in his family who expected so much from him as the oldest son. For Eric, he felt an intense pressure to impress and do what was expected of him, not what he wanted to do. However, this place was different. There was no overbearing parent to sway his decisions, no rivalry like he had experienced with his brothers, no stress to excel in activities he disliked. He could live his life how he wanted to live it and make his own decisions. He had been given the choice of three weapons or a tool for his soul item during his time in limbo, and he chose the tool without hesitation. For Eric, the newfound freedom had made him happier than he had been at any other point in his first life, and it was only day two.
Silently nocking another arrow, Ketley took aim. From his current vantage point amongst the trees, he had a clear view of the grasslands to the north. There he saw a male orc carrying a broadsword by his side. The orc was oblivious to the fact that at this moment there was a deadly arrow pointed directly at his skull.
“Pathetic,” Ketley muttered to himself as he released the bowstring.
The arrow whistled as it propelled through the air. The man never had time to react before the steel tip of the arrow struck him in the chest.
“Shit, a miss,” Ketley hissed at himself in frustration.
He quickly took aim once more, sending another arrow spiralling towards the injured and confused man who had stumbled to his knees from the unexpected blow. Following this, Ketley jumped down from the branch he had been crouching on, his hooded black cape flapping in the air behind him as he descended. All the while the second arrow continued its trajectory towards the man, whilst Ketley landed softly on the grassy ground.
He reached up to his quiver and grasped another arrow, ready to nock it. However, as he looked up, he saw that the man in front of him was now lying on his back on the grass, incapacitated by the two arrows protruding from his front.
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
“How pitiful. Slow, dumb and doesn’t even have a good vitality level,” thought Ketley as he walked forward, placing his arrow back in its quiver and pulling out his second soul item, his daggers.
He had been granted access to not one, but two soul items when he took a risk on the lucky dip option at the start of the training grounds. At the time his demon guide had said it was an unbelievable blessing of the gods. For long ranged assaults he would utilise his arrows, but for melee encounters he preferred his daggers. As he approached the bleeding man he looked down in disgust.
“Why?” the orc managed to splutter as blood filled his mouth.
Ketley offered no reply as he stared straight into the eyes of the dying man before driving the tip of the dagger through the man’s heart. As the life faded from the orc Ketley whispered coldly into his ears the last words the man would ever hear.
“Because, people provide a lot more experience than beasts.”
After searching for any items of value and finding nothing, he simply scoffed and began walking back towards the forest in search of his next target.
After distributing his free points from his recently gained soul item level evenly between perception and dexterity, as had been his strategy since stepping foot in the training grounds, he soon located the tracks of another initiate. As he followed the large, reptilian footprints he reflected on his most recent encounter.
“Missed by over ten centimetres, unforgivable,” he thought, disappointed in his poor accuracy from such a short distance.
No longer could he blame his poor vision brought about by his albinism for his failure, the changes to his body that he’d undergone in the transition to this new world had fixed all of that. No, this mistake was entirely on him, and he would have to improve on this moving forward.
Despite his best efforts, his mind couldn’t help but drift to his sensei back on earth. What would he have thought of that pitiful display? Ketley was thankful he didn’t have to sit through another lecture about the importance of considering all external factors such as wind, sun, temperature, and distance when stalking and striking prey. The old man had been a constant thorn in Ketley’s side since the moment he’d been put into his care. His sensei had told him not to treat his condition as a weakness, but to think of it as a challenge he needed to overcome.
“Easy to say when you’re not going through it yourself,” Ketley grunted to himself.
He spat at the ground in frustration as he reflected on the old man and his constant demands. But his sensei wasn’t here to critique him now and he could finally live out his dark desires with his new and improved vision and speed thanks to his enhanced perception and dexterity.
“Swirly! Swirly come back here this instant!” yelled Tuti.
The short female vixant stumbled through the thick vines that hung from the trees above, continuing her search for her companion. She stood barely four foot tall; both her hands were covered with studded black leather gloves, and she wore a tattered brown crop top and skirt that covered her short silky fur. She had a small button nose, with deep blue eyes and pointed fox-like ears. Her bushy tail swished side to side as she continued her march forward.
“Swirly get back here right now!” she yelled as she searched behind fallen tree trunks and vines.
Whilst pushing through a particularly plentiful vine thicket section she suddenly found herself within a small clearing. In the centre of the open space lay a sleeping beast of frightening design. The creature was startled awake as soon as Tuti’s foot entered the clearing, and it immediately turned to face her. It had five brown oval eyes that were positioned horizontally along its wide head. It had long, tough mandibles on either side of its rectangular jaw that chittered back and forth. The beast was long and slender, it stood only a metre tall but must have been over six metres in length. It had eight spindly insectoid legs, four on either side of its thin rump, and a long, thick, spiked tail. Tuti was frozen in fear as the creature started charging towards her whilst making horrible, rattled clacking noises.
Tuti didn’t know where to look, each time she gazed upon one of its eyes she felt like she had to turn her attention towards another.
“Swirly where are you?” she screamed as a small ape like creature suddenly burst through the vines behind her.
The beast then leapt up and landed into the outstretched arms of Tuti. It was only a foot tall, around the size of a standard teddy bear, and just as cute. It had fluffy orange fur with a distinctive white swirl on its round belly. Its floppy ears dangled down past its face, and it had large, round, puppy dog eyes and an innocent smile that could melt the heart of even the most hardened warrior. It had the hands and legs of a monkey and the fluffy white tail of a rabbit. The adorable creature looked forward at the approaching spiky beast as it made a fist with each hand in a determined stance. At this moment Tuti activated her soul magic, utilising her beast affinity as a blinding white glow emanated out from her gloves and the same light began to surround Swirly.
A moment later Tuti placed the little creature on the ground beside her and took a few careful steps backwards. Suddenly, Swirly’s tiny arms and legs began to extend to many times their previous size before engorging to grow thick and muscular. Next the little apes stomach increased in size many times over, the previously rotund belly vanished, replaced by prominent, powerful abs. Its small head also began to grow, its puppy dog eyes replaced with a steely, hardened look, and its large mouth now showed off many sharpened teeth. The once cute creatures only remaining identifiable feature was the distinctive white swirl of fur that now traced over its abs and a fluffy tail that looked particularly out of place on the rump of the ripped ape.
With a roar Swirly stepped forward reaching one powerful hand out towards the approaching multi-eyed beast. The ape simply grasped the head of the creature in its palm and squeezed as its left most eye burst out of its sockets. The beast let out a high-pitched clack of pain and swung its body around to strike the large ape with its spiked tail. Swirly raised its free hand to block the strike, ignoring the spikes. With one hand on its head and one on its tail, Swirly pulled forcefully in each direction, using his own stomach as a fulcrum and causing horrible cracking and popping sounds to emerge from the beasts back. A moment later the creature was snapped in half as it’s hard exoskeleton shattered, causing blue haemolymph and gore to spray down over the grunting ape. Swirly threw the two halves of the dying spiked creature to the ground as its many legs twitched and jerked spasmodically for a few seconds before both parts stopped moving permanently.
Swirly was covered head to toe in the strange blue goo as he slammed his fists down into the ground in triumph before turning around and facing Tuti. The little girl approached the towering ape as it lowered its head to receive a pat.
“Good boy,” praised Tuti whilst stroking Swirly, who was purring loudly like a cat. “But don’t go running off like that again, ok?” she said sternly as Swirly turned his head away in shame.
With that Tuti released their magic bond and the ape glowed once again. Shortly afterwards the massive ape shrunk back to its original form, cute and cuddly, apart from the stained fur.
“I think it’s time you had a bath Mr,” declared Tuti as she picked up the now speckled blue creature.
Swirly huffed in disapproval as he was reluctantly carried out of the clearing.
“Frontline hold your ground, activate defensive skills. Ranged fighters ready your weapons,” shouted Peltra as he raised his large battle-axe.
Peltra’s orcish skin was tinted an emerald green and his eyes glowed a dark blood red. He had a single thick bottom tooth on the right side of his mouth that protruded upwards leaving him with a permanent half snarl on his face. He was shirtless, showing off his impressive chest, with a thin metal necklace looped around his neck that hung down between his protruding pec muscles. On his lower half he wore navy blue trousers and a pair of black boots. Despite being of average height for an orc, the man had a striking presence on the battlefield. A combination of his deep booming voice, his broad, bulging shoulders, and his ability to strategize amid the chaos of battle made him an imposing figure. He was part tactical genius, part skilled fighter, and part impressive leader as his growing followers respected his command with unwavering commitment.
“Ranger’s fire!” he shouted as he started to move towards the frontline defenders.
Peltra’s eclectic party consisted of five people including himself, making it the largest group currently within the forest given the limited time that had passed. More impressive than the numbers was the fact that his group was made up of members of different species that before the apocalypse, never knew the others existed. Peltra had made it his goal to recruit as many initiates as possible to his group to quickly form a powerful community. He had two members who acted as his shield, specialising in defensive spells, one a weak looking creature from the race known as human and the other a tall reptilian man from a race known as lizard men. The other two focussed on longer ranged attacks and skills, one an orc and another lizard man. In terms of his own specialties, Peltra had a good spread of stats across both physical and mental domains, but he always made sure he had a few extra points in his manipulation stat. He found that to maintain his control over the group, a high manipulation skill was vital as it helped sway any subordinates’ minds when they might have otherwise doubted his rule. His manipulation skill also allowed him to eliminate the fear each member might have internally carried towards members of other previously unknown species. Not that Peltra was a dictator by any means, he just knew that in order to maximise both his own, and his party members chances of success, all must follow his command without question. There was no place for hesitation in this new world, regardless of any predetermined prejudice. Additionally, his manipulation stat appeared to boost the effects of his air affinity magic skill, dragoon. This ability required very little mana, therefore allowing it to be constantly active. With it, Peltra could create an undetectable aura that spread out from his location in a sphere. This undetectable aura complimented his manipulation stat, amplifying his ability to influence the thoughts of those within its area of effect.
A large stone and spark of lightening shot out towards the charging beast from the two ranged fighters. The beast whined as the projectiles struck it in the centre of its massive head. The creature was over two metres tall and four metres long. It appeared to be some sort of strange combination of a rhinoceros and a lion, having a rotund body covered in spotted, feline like fur. Around its short neck was a broad, furry mane, and a thick but sharp horn adorned the tip of its whiskered snout. The creature shook off the attacks and continued its bounding charge towards Peltra’s group. It leapt forward with claws bared and head down, ready to slice and stab with its many natural weapons. However, the waiting defenders were ready for the strike, and they stood strong as the beast was unable to penetrate through the combination of their defensive spells and large protective shield. The beast was momentarily stunned and knocked back from its failed attack, allowing the ranged fighters to send out another barrage of attacks at Peltra’s command.
Seizing his moment whilst the beast was still stunned Peltra ran past the defenders and swung forward with his heavy battle-axe, allowing the weight of the item to create its own force. He cleaved a thick line of flesh out of the shoulder of the creature as it let out a howl of pain, and blood sprayed forward in Peltra’s direction. After the completion of his strike Peltra immediately stepped back seeing the creature was still not incapacitated. Peltra amplified his dragoon’s aura and mentally willed the lizard man defender holding the shield to step forward in his place. The lizard man did so without hesitation, but was too slow to raise his shield appropriately, receiving a deep slash to his chest from the claws of the raging beast that had turned its attention to the closest target. The lizard man dropped to his knees as he started to bleed out, and Peltra took this opportunity to swing forward again with his large battle-axe, this time cleaving deeper and reaching some vital organs as the fading creature collapsed, sending a rush of energy into each of the group members.
Peltra had no time to reflect on the victory though, as he turned his attention to the badly injured lizard man. He put pressure over the man’s wounds with his hands as he looked him straight in the eyes, “You did a courageous thing protecting me like that Melvin, thank you,” Peltra said.
“It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time,” Melvin the lizard man gurgled as blood started to fill his mouth.
A moment later, Melvin let out his last breath, dying in Peltra’s arms.
“This man was a hero,” Peltra declared, as he looked back towards the other members of his party with a solemn expression, before turning his head towards Melvin again.
Peltra was disappointed to have lost a party member so soon, but the experience he received from this battle was invaluable, and he figured he could always find more recruits. Immediately redirecting his thoughts to the spoils of the victory, Peltra turned his attention to the many messages and achievements in his mind, all the while he resisted the urge to grin.