I didn't know how long I stayed in the sea of light. A second… An eternity…
Slowly, however, I was able to pin down that the time wasn't passing just as fast, but it was a feeling of drunkenness. It was strong, stronger than any drink I had tasted, enough to enrapture me if it wasn't for the combined effects of the adrenaline rush and the pain of my wounds.
Interestingly, the moment I stepped into the light the sensation of rejection disappeared. It disappeared completely, almost as if it didn't exist in the first place and I had imagined it. I should have felt fascinated by the dancing colors around me, much more impressive than the best fireworks show I had ever seen, but a lifetime of practicality forced me to focus on more practical aspects.
Like how I managed to end up in the tunnel of light.
Whoever — or whatever — was responsible for the portal was not omnipotent. If they had been, they could have done something more effective to keep me away than trying to play with my thoughts or emotions to get me to make such a decision.
However, even as I processed this, I turned my attention to the other significant detail. Two lines of text that appeared in my sight, immediately after the first line about the Class Awakening disappeared.
[Class: Hero
Level: 0]
I had no idea what that text meant or required any kind of action from me. I might have tried to decipher it, but I had a more urgent issue to deal with.
My wounds, still bleeding.
I started ripping off my shirt, as quickly as I could manage in my current condition, trying to fashion out some bandages to stem the blood. It would be ironic if the blood loss ended me as I continued to float through the magical tunnel.
Yet, even as I tore the first bandage, I realized that something was wrong. The shirt was made of mixture of a silk and cotton blend, and while it was not impossible to tear such a fabric, it required a considerable amount of strength. Yet, it offered less resistance to my tugging than paper.
I lifted the fabric, only to find that it was thin and frayed as if it was a twenty-year-old shirt used in heavy-duty rather than a new one. In a panic, I raised my hand, looking at my fingers, afraid that the tunnel was somehow rejecting me.
It was still the same old, wrinkled skin, with no sign of weakening — not beyond the effect of the constant blood loss.
I had something else to check. I turned my attention to my gun and my watch, only to see both had lost their luster and gained a dull, dusty look, almost soft. I grabbed the gun and squeezed it, only for it to shatter like foam in my palm.
It was an interesting concept, especially as I noticed that certain parts of my suit had already disintegrated completely. But I was too practical to miss the implications for my wounds, desperately pressing one hand to my shoulder, and the other to my thigh.
If everything else disintegrated, so would the bullets, and the bullets buried there were helping to plug the wounds they had caused. Their disappearance would only mean faster blood flow…
And just like that, I found myself floating in some kind of trippy river of light, desperately hoping to reach the destination before the blood loss killed me.
I didn't pay any attention to the burning letters in front of me as I turned my eyes to my surroundings, hoping to find something to distract me from the desire to fall asleep. As the adrenaline rush slowly disappeared, it left exhaustion behind, compounded by the exhaustion of the blood loss.
Adding the drug-like effect of the tunnel to my already ragged state turned the simple task of staying awake into one of the most difficult challenges of my life.
I ignored everything else and focused on the singular task of staying alive. I had grown up as an orphan during the war, I had overcome betrayal, I had survived starvation, I had fought and bled until I had built an empire of shadows from nothing…
Sleep was just another enemy to be defeated.
As I struggled, a small line popped up in front of me.
[Stat Potential Awakened: Resilience
Accept / Reject]
"Accept," I mumbled, having no idea what it meant, but hoping that it would help me somehow.
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It didn't, at least not in any way that I could notice. Maybe they were just a hallucination, a flicker I was seeing because the blood loss had become too much.
Either way, I focused on staying awake while pressing my wounds as I floated, death creeping ever closer. Lost in the haze, I could barely resist the call of sleep … as I got closer to unconsciousness, I could see some kind of shadow, peering through the light, but it was impossible to decipher whether it was just an illusion, or not.
Not with my eyes growing darker by the second.
Then, I felt something solid beneath my feet. It lasted only for a fleeting moment and made me think that it was just a dream. Only after it was followed by a painful collision, I realized that it was I who had fallen , too weak to get up.
As I wondered if this was the end, I heard a cry nearby. "What's going on, he's not supposed to be wounded!" a voice shouted.
A voice that spoke in no language that I knew, yet somehow understood it perfectly.
"Quick, transfer some health to him before he dies," a second voice, shouted.
At least someone was trying to help me. I did nothing, just lay on the ground, my eyes closed. Not because I wanted to keep them closed, but because opening them was more than I could manage in my exhausted state. The most I was able to focus on, apart from the pointless cries, was the texture of the surface beneath me.
Some kind of metal, cold and flawless, yet hot at the same time.
"Are we sure we want to save him?" said the first one. "Look at him, so old and frail. Maybe we should get rid of him —"
"And what, beg the Lords to give us another set of keys for free so we can do another summoning! Is your family willing to pay the cost? Can you take the responsibility to finding another gap to summon one before the breach happens!" the second one argued. These two Were arguing, but I could hear others at a distance, moving but remaning silent.
"I don't have to—" the first voice started, nasal and annoying, before being interrupted by another, a third voice.
"Enough bickering, Falael! He's dying. We can decide whether he's eligible after healing him," the third voice said, though I realized that it was a distant voice, with some echo, almost like it was coming from a phone. Still, I feel that, unlike the first and second, it was sharper and more confident.
Used to throwing out commands.
"But how?" the first one, identified as Falael. "He doesn't have any Health to be replenished. They don't have any levels on the other side of the gate."
"Then, wake him up, and let him kill something and make him level up! Do I have to explain everything to you, you pathetic worm," said the commanding one.
I might have tried to speak, but I made no sound, too busy listening to their incompetent bickering. It wouldn't be the first time faking unconsciousness would have granted me a crucial piece of information.
"We don't have anything here, but I can ask the stables —" Falael started, only to be interrupted by the second voice.
"Use that frost beast you acquired. It should give him enough to level up," said the second voice, with a vindictiveness that I recognized even at the edge of death.
"I can't use it. I have just acquired it. We don't even know if it'll give him enough experience for a level-up. And, it's a waste to destroy it before it grows up enough to grant an ability—" Falael tried to explain in shock.
"Enough, do it, or your family will be responsible for paying for the next set of keys," the illusory voice ordered.
"As you command, High Priest," Falael admitted defeat, and I felt footsteps coming closer. I felt a dagger being pushed into my hand, yet I lacked the strength to even grab it. They treated me as unconscious, didn't bother asking me anything, and lifted my arm.
It was a weird treatment, but considering I was brought here in some kind of magical tunnel, I was willing to trust them about their unusual treatment method .
Not that I had any other choice.
I lacked the strength to hold the dagger, but somehow, it stayed stuck in my hand as my hand lifted. Then, he brought my arm down, and it sank into some kind of flesh — a beast if the type of roar was any indication.
Another line of text appeared in my field of vision.
[+1836 Experience]
At the same time, I felt some kind of bath salts under my nose, stronger and more disgusting than anything else I had ever smelled, enough to wake me up even if I had been asleep.
"Level up," he had ordered me, his tone carrying a dismissive order, still annoyingly nasal. I had worked with many people during my life, sometimes leading, sometimes following. Yet very rarely I had heard such a casual, horrible tone when giving an order.
Yet, maybe he didn't need to use a commanding tone, because, suddenly, my mind was filled with a desire to follow his order. A flash of desire, one that was similar to the urge I had felt at the portal, though much stronger.
Or I was too weak, fighting on the brink of death.
I focused on leveling up. That was all I was able to do, the desire filling my head like an instinctive feeling, difficult to resist. Maybe even impossible.
[-100 Experience]
[Level up!]
[Stat Points +10]
Another set of text that I could not understand, but before I could think about them, another order arrived, snotty and nasal, yet impossible to resist. "Allocate your stat points!"
I thought about that, and three other lines appeared.
[-Stat Points - 10]
[+5 Vitality]
[+5 Resilience]
And, along with that, a feeling of warmth spread through my body, one that I had not felt for a long time. A feeling of stirring, and some kind of absence of pain. Not from my wounds — though they diminished considerably — but from all the Little aches that had filled my body, accumulated over a long life of struggle.
A miracle, but that was nothing compared to what followed when he poured a small bottle of liquid down my throat.
Another line appeared.
[+1 Health]
"Heal yourself," came another command, once again with a mental weight. Yet, there was something different at this time. Earlier, whenever he gave an order, it echoed deep within my soul, filling me with a forceful kind of desire to follow it.
This time, the same weight still came, but not so directly, as if there was some kind of barrier between me and the weight that accompanied the order.
Still, I followed it.
[-1 Health]
And just like that, I felt a stirring in my wounds, all the intensity of one bandaged for two weeks, concentrated into one second.
The most annoying yet amazing feeling I had ever experienced…