I can say with complete and utter honesty, that I didn’t really know what to expect of the so-called level 250 bottleneck.
Well, there were a few things I was sure were going to happen: For instance, I knew I would become level 250. I also knew that I would likely get something special out of it, considering what happened at the last bottleneck I blew through—level 100, where I became a Demon Lord. And, also going by the experience, I was reasonably certain that there would be some fairly obvious signs that something odd was happening. After all, people had known that I became a Demon Lord back then, even though they were nowhere near me.
So, yeah—I was expecting a spectacle. One that would attract quite a bit of attention.
Some of you probably already know where I’m going with this, or at least have an idea.
The rest of you—those that are wondering what the in flipping hells I’m talking about—just sit back.
The day after I had been enlightened as to the existence of bottlenecks, I spared with Bea again, with mixed results this time.
I got beat up again, of course. Nobody improves so fast as to defeat an opponent they had lost to the day before. I’m no different, and even subscribe to the idea that slow and steady wins the race.
The problem occurred afterwards, when I immediately jumped three levels, straight to 249. I sat myself down, and began meditating, figuring that if I had to cause a scene due to my breaking the bottleneck, I might as well do it while I was a good distance from the caravan. At least this way, I would have a chance to run and hide before people came to investigate.
There was just one small problem.
That last level-up never came.
Normally, meditating for four hours as I did then, would let me level up at least once. Maybe twice.
But nothing happened. There was no breakthrough.
I ended the meditation, fully appreciating the word ‘bottleneck’.
It probably was a tad presumptuous to think that I would be capable of simply blowing straight through it, I told myself. Likely, I would have to simply work away at it, until I became level 250.
Bea noticed that I looked a little down at that point, and attempted to cheer me up. I had told her that I might break through to level 250 that day, and to not be surprised if some….odd things ended up happening. So she knew why I was a little disappointed.
“Don’t worry about it. It takes everyone a while to get through those bottlenecks. I’ve been stuck at mine for a decade now. You just need to relax, take it easy, and break through in your own way.” She said, as a way to cheer me up.
I sighed.
“Yeah? How do you get through a bottleneck in the first place? Just wait it out?”
“Well, it’s said that everyone has to find their own way through a bottleneck. It’s a test of your own self, and reflects who you are.”
I looked at Bea sourly.
“You know, that tells me nothing, right?”
Bea leveled a rare serious gaze at me.
“I’m not kidding. There’s no way I can help you with this. It’s all up to you, Kai.”
And now, at the end of the day, I’m still thinking those words over. A test of my own self? What does that mean, in the end? Am I supposed to use my patience to push through the bottleneck, slowly opening it up? Give it all I’ve got, and simply force my way through?
I know that I’ll get through the bottleneck eventually. I have that sort of feeling, telling me that I don’t really need to worry about it.
With a huff of annoyance, I decided to sleep instead of meditating, since it was fairly obvious that meditating wouldn’t really do me any good at the moment.
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Dreams are interesting things, aren’t they?
They can tell you a whole lot about a person, their past, what they like, dislike, and the like.
It’s a shame then, that there are so few people capable of seeing the dreams of others. Or, maybe that’s a good thing? I certainly don’t want anyone else to see my dreams, if only because I’d like to spare them the displeasure.
Unfortunately, my dreams play a large part in what happens next, and are the catalyst for what happens next. That said, they are still unpleasant, and so I warn you—My dreams are not fun. They are nightmares contained within a lining of memories and pain.
Anyway, I fell asleep, and dreamed of imprisonment.
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Chains.
They disappeared up into the ceiling and down into the floor, keeping my young body in place.
It wasn’t a mistake to stand up to oppression, and injustice. It was, however, a mistake to get caught doing it. It was an even greater mistake to catch the attention of the city lord through my defiance and age. And lastly, the biggest mistake I made, was not disfiguring my face while I still had the chance. The city lord likes pretty little boys, not ones with scars marring them.
And now, I can’t do anything. For all that I was in past lives, for all that I know, I am still powerless. Still too young.
At first, the city lord kept me in a cozy little room deep underground, without any windows, and only accessible through a metal door. It, at least had furniture. A bed and a couch. Not that I’ll be having any fond memories of them anytime soon.
I was kept sedated in that room, fed drugs in the water and food given to me. I starved myself for a semblance of control, before attacking the city lord rather viciously during one of his visits. I ended up biting off a few of his fingers, and taking a chunk of his arm as well.
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He knocked me out after that, through the use of magic. Then, I woke up down here.
Wherever here is.
I assume I’m in the dungeon proper now, given that I hear wailing and screams every now and then.
At least nobody bothers me anymore. He hasn’t even come down here in order to mock me—to rub my powerlessness into my face, and to hold the deaths of my family and friends over me. Not that I was responsible for those lives lost. No, those deaths were the reason I had tried to create a rebellion in the first place, even though I wasn’t yet ten.
I don’t suppose I have to go into great detail on just how badly we failed. Just the fact that I ended up here should tell you what happened.
I clenched my teeth against the pain as I moved into a more comfortable position, constantly feeling the lack of those fingers of mine. I suppose I lost them at the orders of the city lord, since they were the exact same ones I had taken from him before he placed me here. It was a small mercy that I hadn’t been awake for that, nor for the loss of another body part, one that I felt far more keenly. The city lord must have really been angry, to remove that.
Someone must have tended to me, since I didn’t bleed out before I found myself conscious in this tiny cell, chained to the walls.
Well, there was also the more obvious sign that someone had taken care of me—the now dirty bandages around the stumps on my hand there were once fingers, and the stiches between my legs.
Ah, have I mentioned that I seem to be naked? The cell’s terribly cold, as well.
Damn, but the city lord must be mad because of what I did. It makes me happy to think of his furious face, and the fact that I caused his anger and distress. He screamed so nicely when I took his fingers.
It is a little sad that I can’t do anything anymore. I don’t even know how long I’ve been down here. There’s not exactly a sun to follow. And, they haven’t even fed me yet, so I can’t judge by that either.
I can, however, judge based on how hungry I am. So, with a degree of certainty, I can say that three or four days have passed.
I adjusted myself again, and the clanking of iron chains accompanied my every movement. Soon, I knew I wouldn’t have the strength to make even those little moves to make myself more comfortable.
As it was, I could feel myself slipping away. I chuckled, knowing that it was the lure of death calling to me. It was far off as of yet, but would only come closer the longer I was in the cell. I just hoped they would feed me soon. Death by starvation is real fucking shitty.
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I sighed, and the sound rebounded in the small cell. Like the room I had been placed in before, the cell had a metal door, with a little flap on the bottom for food to be pushed under. It hadn’t been used so far.
Damn, but I really hope something, anything at all, would happen soon. The boredom’s almost killing me more than the whole starvation thing.
Luckily, I can get water from the moisture settling on the walls, else I would have nothing to drink either.
There’s also a growing pile of…refuse in the corner of the cell. They didn’t give me a bucket. I also seem to no longer have any control over my bladder. Unfortunate, that part is.
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Huh. Someone’s finally coming for me. Is it madam Death again? She always seems so cross…
I thought it was about time for me to stave to death, as well. Ah, that’s death with a lowercase this time. You can’t exactly starve to Death—well, yeah, you can, since she’s connected to lowercase death and all. Ugh. I confused myself. Nevermind. It’s probably not Death-with-an-uppercase anyway, since I can hear the footsteps, which were getting closer at this point.
I tried as much as I could to sit upright—I at least wanted to face this visitor with a semblance of dignity. Maybe I’ll even get food!
A key clicked into the lock, and I felt a fair bit of anticipation and dread, since I didn’t know what was happening.
I heard the tumblers retracting, and the swivel of the key’s action, and then it’s removal. The door slowly squeaked open, and I found myself looking at….Me?
Or, more specifically, I—Kaianthor, son of Goff, was looking at Katariah Nadine Silver.
The version of me who had opened the door stifled a giggle, before cutting my chains and offering me a hand up.
“All’s well that ends well, no?” she said, before leading me out of that dungeon. There were scenes of devastation and carnage all around as we ascended, letting me know that she hadn’t come down here without a fight.
Best of all, I saw the broken corpse of the city lord, with his unmentionables stuffed in his mouth. I felt much better knowing that he had choked to death.
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I shot upright from my sleep, nearly falling off the seat that was serving as a bed for me in the carriage. I was covered in a cold sweat, and had a terrible headache as well. Oddly, I also felt somewhat sore, like I had tried standing under a waterfall for a few weeks as training (It didn’t work, don’t try it.)
I groaned, and left the carriage, remembering a lake that we had passed by during the day. With all the sweat, I needed to clean off, and relax.
I reached the lake with no difficulties, and judged that I could spend a bit of time thinking while there—the night was only halfway over.
I removed the Sage’s clothing, and dove straight in. The cooling water helped me to feel much better, and I started pondering the dream I’d had.
Yeah, most of the events in that dream had really happened to me while I was still Kaianthor, and no, I don’t like remembering those events leading up to my death in that life. Of course, I never visited myself, nor did the me of now help save the me of them. That would be impossible, even with time and space magic rivaling that of the gods.
Instead, I wasted away in that dungeon, and nearly starved to death before the city lord made an untimely reappearance and continued my nightmarish existence. I eventually ended up killing myself.
Yeah yeah, I know. It was sad and nearly broke me at the time. No—it did break me, but I got better after a few reincarnations.
The point is, I’m not broken anymore, and am mostly over it.
So then, why did I have that dream? Especially with that ending?
I sighed, and dunked my head underwater.
And made a startling discovery while there.
On my stomach—aren’t those scales? Right below my belly-button, that’s a line of scales, right? Did I catch a sickness or something without realizing it?
I immediately resurfaced, and used the reflection of the lake to cast identification magic on myself to see my status.
Status: Katariah Nadine Silver Titles:
Oi, are you fucking with me here? I go to sleep, fully expecting to struggle with a bottleneck for the time being, and wake up not even knowing that I somehow shot up thirty whole levels?! And what the hell's with all the numbers being so nicely evened out?
Oh, wait, there's more. Of course there's fucking more. Because the absolute cheat that my existence is quickly becoming isn't enough, apparently.
System Notification:
The existence that is known as Katariah Nadine Silver has hereby been declared a Bloodline Retrogression, and gained the ability known as 'Draconic Regeneration' due to said Retrogression.
System Notification:
Title: ‘Walking Tragedy’ has been given to Katariah Nadine Silver
Gods damn it. What in the seven fucking hells is wrong with my bloodline? And that title is just inviting trouble towards me. It feels almost as bad as something like 'Innocent Bystander', or just plain 'Unlucky'.
I'm reasonably certain that I must have pissed off someone real important at some point without knowing it.
Oh well, at least the scales aren't some indication of my impending doom or whatever.
I think.
I seriously hope I didn't just jinx myself.