A grey blur jumps at Sylas. It stabs its claws into the side of his leather breastplate. The impact, though not capable of perforating Sylas' armor, sends him to the ground.

Sylas tries to roll to his feet, but the thing collides with him, and he's thrown down a slope. He rolls through dried bushes, spreading powdered snow in his wake.

Liliana shouts after him, but the cracking branches and the impacts of Sylas' body against the ground drown out her voice.

Sylas comes to a stop and jumps to his feet, snow covering his face with rasping pain. He finds himself at the edge of a clearing, searching the tree line for Liliana or the threat.

A growl rumbles from Sylas' snow trail as a white and gray wolf prowls out of it. It bares its teeth at Sylas, each of its steps whipping Sylas' heart to rush ever faster.

Sylas backs away into the clearing. His right, weight-bearing foot skids on the slippery ground, breaking his balance and focus.

The wolf lunges and bites down on Sylas' arm brace. Its teeth fail to pierce Sylas' arm, but the pressure stabs his bones with burning pain. The wolf drags Sylas to the ground, and they skid to the clearing's center.

Sylas kicks the wolf off him, sending him flying with a satisfying crack. The force of the impact stops his glide over the ground, and he jumps to his feet. Looking down, he realizes he's standing on ice.

The wolf comes to a stop five meters away from Sylas. It rises with a squeal, its left side collapsed by Sylas' kick.

Liliana appears at the tree line but stops from entering the clearing. She carries the bag with her, making Sylas realize he's missing it.

The wolf digs its claws into the ice as he growls towards Sylas, the sound mixing with gurgling blood. It drips from its maw, tainting the white ground.

Sylas breathes in deeply. The cold air freezes his lungs, but the warmth of Ether fills his heart. "Strengthening," he murmurs as he lowers himself, his blade trained on the beast.

The wolf lunges once more, but Sylas moves to the side and swings at its neck. Sylas' blade hums as it slashes through the beast with no resistance. The wolf's corpse falls back onto the ice and glides to almost reach Liliana.

As he tries to stop himself, Sylas' feet slip off the ground, hurling his back onto the ice. His weight cracks the surface and plunges him into freezing water. He struggles to keep himself afloat.

A rope slams over Sylas' shoulder. Liliana holds the other end from the tree line.

Sylas climbs out using his sword and the rope as anchors. Fearing to fall into another spot, he wraps the rope around his forearm as he approaches Liliana. Despite Strengthening, his soaked gambeson weighs him down like a frozen iron cage.

"You leveled up. You leveled up. Armor (light) leveled up. Melee Weapon (Long sword) leveled up. Unarmed Combat leveled up." the system announces.

A gust of wind rages over the clearing, striking Sylas with a sudden blizzard. It turns his hands and face to stone, making it next to impossible to move his fingers.

"You are almost there. Keep walking," Liliana calls.

The journey seems endless; each step threatens to send him back to the ground.

Sylas' body stops shivering as he reaches Liliana. The frost seeps into his bones. His eyes fall on the bag; its strap lies on the ground, sectioned in the middle. Despite his dreadful state, the sight bugs him – it doesn't seem chewed or torn but rather clean cut.

A spasm grips Sylas' heart as his sight blurs, as if hot air was swirling around him. The invisible hand compressing his chest tightens and is joined by another one stabbing through his brain. The pain blurs Liliana's voice and then darkens his sight.

Sylas remembers little of the next hour. His mind only returns to him as he finds himself in front of a fire. He's in a cavern. His soaked gambeson and shirt lie sprawled on a rock, facing the fire. He tightens the wool blanket he finds draped over himself, his body still shaking.

"Back among the living?" Liliana asks from the cavern's mouth. She holds logs and sticks under her arm. "You shouldn't swim in this season; it's too cold."

"I'll remember," Sylas humors.

"What's with the scars?" Liliana asks.

Sylas' exposed torso reveals the many scars on his forearms. He explains, "A Skullgor dragged me down a tunnel."

"How did you get out of that?" she asks, placing down her load of firewood.

"An adventurer was escorting me; he killed their leader, and they fled," Sylas admits.

"You were lucky," Liliana comments as she walks back outside. "I saw some wild berries on the way back; I'll go get them."

Sylas follows her with his gaze until she's gone and looks down at the bag. He lifts it and looks at the bag's strap; it's torn, leaving two halves with chewed edges.

"Why does it bother me so much?" Sylas mutters as it places it back down. He approaches his hands from the fire, exposing his palms to warm them up. Having delayed it for what now seems too long, he opens his status to spend his characteristic points.

Sylas Hartwell

Lv.24/24 (Blacksmith) Human

Lv.4/24 (Arcane Smith)

Strength: 19 + Charisma: 10 +

Dexterity: 15 + Perception: 13 +

Constitution: 17 + Willpower: 13 +

Intelligence: 13 +

Available characteristic point(s): 7

Talents

Greater potential

Rapid growth

Titles

Bright steel artisan

Goblin hunter

Hobgoblin hunter

Iron artisan

Leather artisan

Steel artisan

Warg hunter

Abilities

Elemental forging (F)

Enchanting (F)

Heat resistance (E)

Identification (E)

Magic resistance (F)

Mending (F)

Reverse engineering (E)

He stares at his unspent points. It seems like both a lot and so few, especially since they are the firsts he had for years. These are supposed to be rare and precious; once he uses them, there is no going back.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

His gaze drifts towards charisma, his lowest stat. It feels wrong, shameful even, to have such a low characteristic. Not that his intelligence of thirteen makes him feel any better. The stat always felt useless to him who stayed in his forge with little exterior contact. But he finds himself in a commanding role, one that demands persuasion, intimidation, and perhaps deception.

"Hmm…" he mutters, his thoughts spiraling. His charisma rose by one once his elocution improved, but how long would he need to train it any higher? On the other hand, raising his strength, dexterity, and constitution would be immediately useful. Not only that, it would also align with his class.

"That's a lot of characteristic points," Liliana says, startling Sylas.

He glances to the side to find her looking over his shoulder, snacking on cranberries. "How long have you been standing there?" he asks.

"Long enough to see you debating like you'll die if you misuse them. Let me guess…" Her eyes scan over his characteristics and titles. "You're thinking about whether to spend points on charisma."

"I was –" he starts defensively.

"– about to skip it and dump everything into strength and constitution," she finishes. "Typical meathead Warrior. I'm sure that's what the boys would do," she quips with a smile. She places her remaining handful of berries in his hands. "Let me make this easy for you: put some into charisma. You've men to command now, and it'll give you better chances with women. You wouldn't want to end up alone, would you?"

"I could always find a tutor to train me in all the matters of etiquette, flattery, confidence, and wooing," Sylas retorts, hurt by her comment.

Liliana chuckles as she splits a log with her sword and places its halves in the fire. The thin blade bears inscriptions along its fuller. Sylas has no time to read them before it's sheathed. "Like you'll take the time when you could spend it in a forge. Do yourself a favor and spare yourself the months, if not years, of effort with a push or three of a plus."

Sylas opens his mouth to argue but finds no retort. She isn't wrong; his life revolves around his craft, and he has no greater want than to go back to it. "Fine," he mutters before mouthing the berries. He presses on the charisma's plus three times and distributes the remaining four to even his strength and constitution at twenty.

Warmth spreads through Sylas. His muscles swell beneath his skin, tickling his entire body. His aches from the cold and hunger melt away. He exhales, caught off guard by the sensations.

His reflection in a puddle by the fire catches his eyes. Leaning closer, he notices the faint acne scars dotting his cheeks fading. He touches his jawline, finding it ever so slightly sharper.

"Already looking better," Liliana quips, making him wonder how much charisma her spotless skin needed. "Even your resting face looks more commanding."

"My resting face?" Sylas asks, looking back into the puddle.

"You can't see it; it's the face we make when we don't think about it. Like how bovine some of the boys look when you aren't talking to them," Liliana says.

"What did I look like?" Sylas asks, suddenly self-conscious.

"Tired, I think. But that's not the case anymore, so you don't have to worry about it," Liliana quips.

"So, the system thinks charisma is all about beauty? That's disheartening," Sylas comments.

"You'll see when it comes to it, but now you'll struggle less often to find your words, and you'll be less stressed about speaking your mind." Liliana looks out of the cavern where the snow stopped falling. "But if you go the other way around, the system still rewards you with a bit more beauty. To make it official, I guess."

Sylas closes his status and drags the bag to him to grab a bite. Another of the four slices of dried meat vanished, leaving only two for tonight.

Liliana's stomach growls. She places her hand over it to silence the echoing noise. "I already ate my share; go ahead."

"We need to hunt something tomorrow," Sylas comments. He gives her one of the remaining slices and bites down on his own.

"We could set up snares, but we already ate the bait we could have used," Liliana jokes. "Too bad the guard's kit doesn't have a bow; that would have been useful."

The idea of a bow grows in Sylas' mind as he slowly chews at the piece of dried meat. Done, he rises from his stone seat and grabs his dried shirt to let go of the blanket. He walks towards the cavern's mouth, decided to gather the necessary materials.

"Where are you going?" Liliana asks. She stands up to follow him. "You just avoided freezing alive."

Outside, Sylas doesn’t feel cold; truthfully, he is ashamed of his earlier body's weakness. How could he fall unconscious so fast? Even with his gambeson drenched, he should have held up longer than a few minutes. As a precaution, he triggers Strengthening to his current limit. His muscles warm up, casting a plume of vapor that rises from his entire body. "Don't worry, I won't go farther than the wolf I killed."

"What do you want with it?" Liliana asks, following Sylas along the frozen lake's edge.

Before he can explain, Sylas' eyes fall on Liliana's sheath, drawn by a speck of red on its locket. It looks like fresh blood, still shimmering in the moons' light.

"Was there another wolf? This one attacked me from the opposite side of the original movement we saw," Sylas asks.

"If there was another one out there, it didn't attack me," Liliana answers.

Why would she lie? Doubt fills Sylas' mind, but he doesn't let it show in his expression. He glances back at the lake's edge, where he finds traces in the snow. There is a large imprint made by a fallen man, most likely himself, and sets of footprints. There are too many prints and traces for Sylas to infer anything.

"Everything alright?" Liliana asks, likely wondering why he became silent.

"Do you have a knife?" Sylas asks, extending an open hand. Confronting her now would only create turmoil for the next few days, even if the truth is something innocent.

Liliana slides her left hand into her right arm brace and retrieves a hidden dagger. She spins it to hold it by the blade and hands it to him. "We shouldn't eat that. Predators tend to carry diseases and parasites."

"I know," Sylas says. He grips the dagger and crouches by the wolf's body. Setting the blade against its throat, Sylas makes a clean incision along the beast's length.

Liliana stays silent, but he can feel her eyes on him.

Sylas focuses on his work, letting the rhythmic scrapes of steel against skin drown out his doubts about her.

"You don't feel cold?" Liliana asks.

"No," Sylas replies. "Even though it's only a side effect, my ability is even making it a bit hot."

Liliana raises an eyebrow at his comment but says nothing. Her gaze lingers on him before shifting to the tree line, her posture tense.

The forest is quiet, save for the usual late-day sounds of animals and wind dampened by the woods.

Sylas continues skinning the wolf. The pelt resists, clinging to the muscle beneath, but Strengthening makes quick work of it. Steam rises from the exposed flesh of the wolf as the cold air fills with its lingering warmth.

"It's weird for a Blacksmith to have Strengthening," Lilina comments.

"I learned it from a book," Sylas answers. He opens the legs to unfurl the pelt down to its knees.

"Do you want to make a coat out of it?" Liliana asks.

"No," Sylas answers. "At least not now; and I don't need it to make bows."

"Then why do you bother? We'll have to drag it with us for two days, and it will stink if you put it in the bag."

"I'll hang it below the bag once I've cleaned it. It's too cold for it to rot in a few days anyway," Sylas says. "If you kill something, you should make the best use of it."

"Skinning leveled up."

An idea sparks in Sylas' mind. He cuts through the wolf's stomach, opening it in its length and revealing its guts and ribs. Through them he makes sure to note the location of its heart, lungs, liver, and more. He imagines how he should attack it to stab the organs with a blade or pierce them with an arrow. It takes him longer than when Grim explained it, but he finds enough similarities with a Warg.

"You obtained the Wolf hunter title. One characteristic point has been granted," the system announces.

"What are you doing?" Lilana asks.

"Getting a hunter achievement; a characteristic point is always good to take, isn't it?" Sylas answers.

"How? It's not like you killed hundreds of wolves in your life; what good does it make to open one up?" she asks.

Mimicking stabbing with her dagger, Sylas explains the angles in which she could attack to stab specific organs of the wolf.

Liliana looks to the side, hearing something Sylas cannot. Her mouth opens, then closes as she searches for her words. "You have no idea how much work you saved me. It takes me months of training, tutoring, and effort to raise a characteristic by a single point!"

"It's nothing. Really," Sylas says as he hands her the dagger back. "The adventurer who escorted me showed me how it's done."

"It's not nothing. But it explains why you have so many of them," Liliana says, shaking Sylas by the shoulders. "Too bad you only get rewards for the first ten; otherwise, I would be scouring the land to dissect them."

"What's with the limit?" Sylas asks. He pries out one of the wolf's largest teeth, planning to use it for the arrows.

"It just is," Liliana answers. "It's like your artisan talents. Technically, you can combine both for twenty points total."

"Sure, but the artisan ones take way longer. You must understand the material completely to get them," Sylas comments.

"You've got your entire life for that," Liliana quips. "Well, when you are not working for us."