The elves tied my hands in vine rope and led me behind them like a prisoner while Elorael walked behind me on Samael's arm. Through twisting forest paths, I was taken from the forest's edge to the depths where a city of treehouses took shape.

My shoes were in ruins, my teeth were gone, and my clothes were in tatters. When I closed my mouth, nothing felt right. I plucked shards of shattered teeth from my gums and nearly passed out. The only thing keeping me going was breathing. Thorns bit my feet, drawing blood despite my toughened skin. With every breath, my lungs felt like they could explode at any moment keeping the sea god's breath going. The technique should help me heal faster; the sea god healed from losing two hearts and its second brain.

If I had any of that being's power, I should be able to do the same. But, instead, for a week straight, I did nothing but eat its flesh and fuck Elorael's throat. She trained the breathing technique while I learned the basics and started extending my time. She didn't need to stop using it while I had to use it in short bursts. Even if I bridged that gap, I didn't know if it would be enough.

Mastering a breathing technique started at constant use, the minimum level of mastery. I had to make the technique as natural as breathing. After I tricked myself into replacing my normal breath with the technique, I would have mastered constant. But that wasn't mastering the technique.

There was more to it than that.

My island obliterating fist gathered the power of the adult version of the kaiju. With it, I shattered the teeth of the kaiju and escaped. I needed to put that power into my normal punches to reach mastery level. Every blow should be an island obliterating fist, and from there, I could move forward into a specialization.

I yanked another shard of a tooth from my gums and nearly fell to my knees. Then something scored across my back. While burning, pain flooded my system, and I turned around in time to see Samael with a glowing cane in her hand.

"Don't drop your breathing technique. If you're going to be one of the tribe, you have to master constant breathing. That's something I've been able to do since I was a child." Samael teased.

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"You can do it, just focus on breathing," Elorael said before Samael cut her off.

"Not another word from you. You're my baby maker, remember. Babymakers don't talk; you just accept my seed and pop out little elves." Samael said.

I seethed then felt another crack of the cane. A stinging welt lumped up on my shoulder. Hitting her started it. Instead of lashing out, I swallowed my anger and focused on breathing. The next whack of the cane bounced off my skin.

We walked over to a pulley system and stepped into a primitive elevator. An elf up top pulled a crank connected to a series of wheels, and slowly we ascended.

"Hey, pet, you know what would be fun?" Samael asked.

"What?" Elorael asked.

"I think I'm going to invite Red to watch me take your virginity. Doesn't that sound like fun? I'll have to invite whoever my mother sends as a minder for him too. We want him to master constant as quickly as possible to be of use to our tribe. If a little thing like watching me fuck you breaks his breathing, then what use is he?" Samael asked.

My eyes went blank at that. How could any of this happen? Another crack ran across my chest, leaving a massive red welt, but I hardly felt it. Samael hit me again, crossing the welts, but I still didn't take a breath. Finally, she caned my cheek, and other elves came to watch.

Round ear one called out; half-formed another yelled. Still, my mind felt blank as welt after welt appeared on my chest. She drew blood, and then the cane shattered in her hand. A smile grew on her face as she looked at me.

"That's what I expect to see while I fuck her. There is nothing more beautiful than watching my rivals fall into despair." Samael said.

"Breath," Elorael said, and I sucked in a shallow breath.

I always preferred the meaty bruiser classes over the long-range snipers or mages. Unfortunately, the reality wasn't the same as a game, and even a system giving out free drugs couldn't change that. Being a bruiser was cool, but could I kill with my bare hands. How would I deal with long-range fighters? It didn't matter how tough Bruce Lee was against a bullet traveling half a mile away. At the same time, what if that sniper faced a target like a hulk. Who would I rather be, the sniper or the Hulk? What about even more powerful beings like Goku or superman who used only their fists and special attacks? Well, what did I want? Samael was the problem now. If I specialized in a mage build, who knows, I might be able to do something and kill her. However, that wouldn't fix the next situation. I was too weak.

Another lash of the cane scored across my chest. This time it did no damage. Instead, I reached into my mouth and pulled out another shard of a tooth.

A mage class would give me many options and flexibility with long-range attacks or debuffs. I might be able to even spread my focus around later. However, a class wasn't a power or something offered by the system. It was a state of mind and a path to take forward. Being a mage meant researching my problem putting in the work through trial and error to develop a solution. It was considering my weaknesses instead of bulldozing my way through without caring. For now, I had an unreliable source of power and needed to master that to the point where being cucked wouldn't stop me.