Grim struggled to keep the disappointment from his face. He hadn’t wanted to come right out and say it, but who doesn’t want an overpowered weapon? The least the system could’ve done was to generate one skill with devastating area damage. His hopes of being able to bulldoze through the dungeon he had found himself trapped in had all but disappeared.

Soul Weapon: Styx

Stats:

All Primary Stats +5, Will +10

Passive Skills:

Soul Repository:

A container to store souls. Souls are placed into stasis to prevent soul degradation and cannot remove themselves from the Soul Repository. Souls in Repository: 0/100.

Active Skills:

Soul Reap:

Empower your next strike with Soul Force, causing your next attack to become ethereal and attack the target’s soul directly. Anyone slain by Soul Reap will have their soul harvested and placed within the Soul Repository.

Grim knew he was being childish, as having a weapon was better than his previous situation. The thought of having to fight whatever the dungeon threw at him with his bare hands and feet brought shivers down his spine. So, all in all, he couldn’t be too disappointed. He was thankful for the stat increases, as he still had no idea what the baseline should be nor how high they’d have to be to give him a chance at clearing this dungeon.

In all the games he played growing up, they had similar strategies regarding dungeons. First, they usually had a level requirement to prevent people from facing insurmountable odds. Second, your character's stats, usually from how well-geared your character was, made a vast difference in clearing the dungeon. Third, it all came down to the classes participating in the dungeon run, as you would normally be dependent on certain criteria. A frontline fighter, a high damage output ranged fighter, and a support type fighter was the norm in video games.

Thankfully Grim had a unique class, allowing him to summon additional support for fights, a crowd-controlling skill, and a heal, providing him some much-needed insurance in case the fight didn’t go in his favor.

If he had to choose any of his skills over the others, it would hands down be the heal. He knew with his luck so far that he’d need it sooner rather than later. If he had to bet, he’d probably be attacked right after he left the safe area.

Looking over the two skills Styx provided left Grim a little confused. He knew something about his circumstances was causing everything about his class or skills to be related to the soul; however, even with those circumstances, he was unsure what the benefits of Soul Repository even brought him. How was storing souls at all helpful? Grim couldn’t understand why his soul weapon had been given that skill and could only hope the weapon came with the skill for a reason.

The active skill was a far bit better. It seemed to be some sort of amplification skill or buff, apparently allowing him to attack the soul directly. If the skill allowed him to bypass a target's physical resistance, it might allow him to instantly kill his targets without having to physically clash. However, he doubted the system would make it that easy.

If it had to do with his soul force, would the attack take on the properties of his appearance? Grim looked down at his torso, gently moving his fingers across the transparent membrane that protected his heart. Wherever his fingers passed, an aurora of lights followed. It was fascinating to watch. The greenish-blue with hints of purple was mesmerizing to look at. If this is how his empowered strike would look, it would be one eye-catching attack.

The part that confused Grim the most about his second skill was that its primary use was in collecting souls. The ethereal nature was just a means to mark the soul for collection. What even is the use of collecting souls as a weapon?

“Did I make a mistake in naming my soul weapon? If only I had named it something like armageddon. Maybe then I would have gotten some destructive skills.”

Grim could only sigh and hope his weapon proved useful in his upcoming dungeon run. If not, he could only lament his choice in name and look towards its future growth.

Grim wasn’t sure how his weapon would appear, whether it would pop out in the air in front of him or appear on the nearest service, so he braced himself as he held out his right hand as if about to grasp something and focused as he called its name to summon it.

“Styx.”

Grim wasn’t sure why he called for it aloud, as he had figured out the system worked off intent and not vocalization, but for some reason, he felt compelled to call for it out loud. Anything else felt… disrespectful. Yeah, that was the feeling that came to him, disrespectful. It was as if he wasn’t calling for an inanimate object but a companion. A childhood friend who knew everything about him, and he knew everything about them. He didn’t know where this feeling came from but decided to follow it.

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Grim’s eyes widened as his weapon began to appear. It began as a stream of black water trickling from his palm, slowly ramping up to a raging current as it began to take shape before him. It was odd to see a liquid suspended in the air as if it was being held within an invisible mold, filling up like water poured into a glass.

Grim watched as the black liquid sloshed within the air, bouncing back and forth as it rushed towards the ground. It was a mystery how the black liquid acted as if it were affected by gravity as the water splashed upwards as it reached the end of the staff, slowly beginning to fill and condense; while at the same time, it acted like a snake creeping upwards against gravity, winding its way towards the top of the staff, creating the ornamental piece to the scepter.

Once the entirety of the staff was full of the condensed black liquid, it was as if a dam broke right below the ornamental piece of the scepter, releasing a flood as the liquid surged outwards, forming a long scythe. The next moment took Grim’s breath away as shock filled his eyes. His hand released a deathly chill, colder than the winds of Antarctica, that rippled across his weapon, slowly freezing until a solid weapon was formed.

The only thought that came to Grim’s mind was beautiful. It was perfect. The weapon’s staff held the appearance of the trees he had seen on Gwen’s island as if made from one of their branches. It had the same frozen surface that held the appearance of stained glass, allowing one to just barely make out what lay on the side.

Grim's gaze rose from the staff to the scythe that gave him the chills. The blade looked deadly, jutting out nearly an arm's length from the staff, and its sharpness left little to his imagination for what would happen to the unfortunate sap who met the business end of the weapon. He’d be reaping souls for sure.

After examining his weapon for a moment longer, a sense of incompleteness filled him. It was as if he had stumbled across a frozen waterfall in spring. It should be a raging torrent of unstoppable power, but instead, it was frozen in a deep slumber.

Grim stared at the ornamental piece he assumed was the magical focus for his weapon. It was the only piece of the weapon that lacked the deeper black stain of the water that had created it. It was crystal clear. It was empty, lacking something, but what?

Bond.

“Huh?”

Grim snapped his head from side to side as he looked for where the sound had come from before realizing there hadn’t been one to look for. It felt more like an inner thought but didn’t originate from him. It was familiar but different at the same time. It took a moment for him to figure it out until it happened again.

Bond.

It was a pulse that seemed to have come from Styx.

“Bond? What do you mean by bond?”

Then it happened again, another pulse, and it came with more than before.

Bond. Blood.

“Bond? Blood? Oh!”

Grim quickly switched Styx from his right hand into his left as he carefully pressed his right thumb into the tip of the scythe. The moment his blood was drawn, he felt a suction that held his thumb tight against the blade's tip. Try as he might, he couldn’t move his hand away. It felt like it had been trapped in a vise, unable to move; thankfully, it was occurring in both directions and prevented him from stabbing the blade further through his thumb.

It lasted for only a few seconds but left Grim feeling drained as he collapsed onto his back. It wasn’t like he felt physically exhausted or even anemic, but whatever had been taken by Styx had left him with a budding headache and a deep ache in his chest.

Grim groggily leaned forward into a sitting position, only to fall back again as the earth seemed to shake beneath him. Steading himself, he slowly rose into a sitting position before bracing himself as the feeling of vertigo returned. Finally, after a few short minutes, the world seemed to right itself, allowing Grim to take stock of the changes his weapon had undergone.

There was only one startling difference, the focus, which he hadn’t noticed before, was a replica of the heart that beat inside his chest. Instead of having the same soothing glacial blue color as his heart held, it was filled with a mix of greenish-purple light with flakes of deep blue, almost like snowflakes flurrying around inside. It seemed whatever Styx had needed from him had been used to awaken and attune the focus of his weapon to himself.

With the bonding process finished Grim shakily rose to his feet while grabbing hold of Styx. He was thrilled with the way his weapon looked. It made him feel like he was the master of death as he spun the scythe around himself.

He was thankful his Mother had put him in taekwondo for years during his childhood, where he had learned how to use and fight with a bo staff. There had been other weapons he had learned to use, like the nunchucks, the kama, eskrima sticks, and his second favorite, the sai. The fact the sai was his second favorite had nothing to do with a turtle name Raphael… nothing at all.

Thankfully he could adapt and mix in some forms he had learned with the kama, hopefully allowing him to properly utilize the scythe blade. Maybe he could even learn new forms specifically for the scythe. He was sure there had to be a training manual or instructor somewhere that he could find.

After a brief exercise with Styx, Grim thoroughly examined his weapon. Having swung it around in a few forms he had learned before, he realized it had been perfectly created to match his current size. He had expected it to be heavier and more top-balanced, but he was wrong in both aspects. It felt amazingly light in his hands and acted as if the balance was fluid. He could twirl it around as if the balance was centered on the staff, but when he went for a practice attack, the weight shifted towards the blade, allowing for more power on his attacks.

Having a weapon’s balance change while in use was a strange feeling. Still, it transitioned so quickly to his needs that it was difficult to notice any problems as it would change after each strike, allowing him to recenter himself quickly and without any awkwardness.

“I think you and I will get along nicely” Grim couldn’t repress the grin that spread across his face, and he didn’t want to, even if he could. He was thrilled with his new weapon. Now he just had to figure out the magic part of it. He wasn’t sure if the focus was what would allow him to use magic or if he could use magic without it, but he knew it was time to summon his minions and set out on his first adventure in his crazy new world.