———

You have defeated Cyclops Hoplite - Level 47

You have defeated Cyclops Skirmisher - Level 43

You have defeated Cyclops Hoplite - Level 48

…

You have leveled up!

You have leveled up!

You have 6 Stat points to spend. You have gained 2 points of Dexterity and 2 points of Soul

*Knives/Daggers Proficiency* (Intermediate) has gained a level!

*Phantom’s Step* (Basic) has gained a level!

———

Colt wiped blood from the side of his face; his jaw stung, and the thick smell of death was all around him. The bodies of three cyclops lay at his feet, and his wick was burning low. The last couple of ambushes had been one-on-one, but then they started to pair off in groups. Nick fired off another arrow somewhere in the dark, getting more of their attention and splitting the chaos.

With Phantom’s Step and the practice on the other cyclops, he’d been able to pull it off.

There were still around thirty of these things running around, and if he had to face any more than three at a time, it would prove tough.

Well, that was before these last two levels.

Colt flicked his knife, the blood coating their corpses. In the distance, another flare shot up. Less time between this one and the last, and not as far away. Nick was buying him more time. Probably worried.

He rolled his shoulders as more torches headed his way, another group of three, from the shadows. Despite running around in Greek-military gear, these monsters were oddly uncoordinated. Lazy, split, and had fallen into disorganization, not a trained and deadly military force. Maybe they didn’t need to be with the raw power they were running around with.

Colt worked his jaw, rubbing at the spot where one of those monsters landed a fist.

He threw the torch on one of their bodies and stepped into the darkness around the fight, waiting.

The torches and monsters approached, and he had to be ready for another round.

Colt tossed all the stat points from his newest levels into Soul and then focused on his edict, layering it on his blade.

He’d felt it, again and again, like a spark of his understanding rubbing against something as he fought the cyclops with this knife. Bits of intuition, tweaking how he weaved the thread of cutting around his weapon. There was a resonance to the knife; that edge it had let the edict breathe and expand. The law of the universe was meant to obey; when you ran a knife across something, it cut.

As he fought, he altered how he layered the edict—thinner, finer. He tried to coat the blade in different ways and press forward with the Edict as it worked to gain a different result.

The results were that the cyclops were easier to cut.

But not enough; they should be like butter beneath his knife; he should flow through them like nothing. They had a skill resisting him, different than Thick Skin. Something called an ‘unnatural physique’ was interesting in its own way. That and the levels. Levels, it seemed, firmed a creature’s existence; at least, that’s what Colt had started to arrive at.

The higher the level you were, the more real you were, and consequently, the less sway his edict had over their flesh. Paired with a highly endurant body, it made them trouble to deal with.

Colt worked at the Edict, trying to understand just what made it tick. He knew what cutting was. He’d done it thousands of times. He’d done it paired with Movement.

But taken alone?

How did one sharpen a blade?

Another trio of cyclops burst into view—one of them bigger than the others; he had a caged helm and a massive axe in his hands.

Inspect.

———

Cyclops Officer - Level 51

Description: A cyclops in charge leads the cyclops of his fort with a ruthless fist; one has to consider their race is prone to laziness and inaction. When talking about military operations, a Cyclops has only one method of getting his charges under heel: Fear. One mean son of a gun. Tough, big, and chock full of protein, it’s better not to cross his path.

Noteworthy Skills:

Unnatural Physique [Rare] - Level 12

Incite [Rare] - Level 12

Bulwark [Rare] - Level 19

Edicts:

Dread (minor)

*Inspect* (Intermediate) has gained a level!

———

Colt began to pull away from their torchlight. The Edict and the skills on this one looked nasty. The point of this mission was to get the flag and win, and he was supposed to play hit and run until the infiltration team delivered the victory. Not face down, something with three rare skills, eleven levels on him, and a damn Edict.

Three steps away, he stopped and took in the cyclops.

It was barking orders at the other two in a language he couldn’t understand, tapping the large axe in its hand.

It was tough.

The toughest monster Colt had run across so far, in pure levels.

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What sharpened a blade? The thought swirled in their head as he looked at the big blob of flesh in front of him, its gut overhanging and straining its useless armor to the limit. That oversized axe might be deadly, yeah, but if Colt guessed, the big lug couldn’t swing it very fast. That Edict? Dread? How did it hold up to Cut a Lesser Edict or even movement?

Colt got a feel for it, stretching as he studied the enemy; it didn’t feel insanely powerful. Somewhere around Cut at the same classification.

So then, what sharpened a blade?

Whetstone.

One could look at this situation and call it crazy, and maybe they were a little right. He should walk away and prioritize the hit-and-run. This guy was an officer, right? As disorganized as they were, if anyone were going to pull together the cyclops and get in the way of their plans, it would be this cyclops, right?

I’m just justifying it.

Colt shook his head with a smile and twirled his blade in his hand. Yeah. There were both good and bad reasons to avoid this guy.

But really, what he wanted to do was sharpen his blade. And now, he’d found the perfect whetstone. If they were going to survive the third game, if they made it past this game, they’d need to be stronger. He’d need to be stronger.

No, he just wanted to be stronger.

That’s all that really mattered.

Another arrow of light shot up into the air. The officer was about to call out another order to organize better. Colt could see it.

But he didn’t let him; Colt slid out of the shadows, his knife ripping through the leg of the closest Cyclops—the monster spilled onto the ground with a thud, still alive, but now probably less of an issue. His knife went flying, coated thick with two layers of his Edict, thunking into the knee of the second bodyguard. Experience with the other cyclops taught him it was better to aim to disable. These things were tough bastards, but if they didn’t have an easy way of getting to you because you got rid of their ability to, you could take your time and finish the job.

This time, though, he needed to concentrate on the biggest threat.

His knife reappeared in his hand, the damage done in seconds.

The officer glared at him.

“Come on, show me what I’m missing,” Colt asked him, blood thrumming as the cold shock of adrenaline coursed through him.

The axe went up—the air around them weaved, the fires of the torches dimmer. The cries of pain from the wounded cyclops were louder and visceral. The pain was tangible in the air as the weight of the axe above the cyclop's head started to weave, layering his Edict of dread on the moment.

Give up, it screamed.

Die to the blade of this axe, insect, it said.

You’ll die anyway, why not now, it convinced.

Colt saw it work through the air and felt his body begin to lag despite all the points put into dexterity. The dread was a weight, a depression that shocked your muscles and tensed them. Giving this guy all the time he needed to get to the point.

Why fight to survive now when you’ll probably die after this game? If not then, then in a week?

Because.

Colt felt it, his own Edict crying out to him; all the arguments of this lesser Edict wrapped around, getting into his head and body. They were useless, unnecessary.

He began to weave his own Edict—fine, finer than before. It was a thin sheet, not even all the way around the blade, but just the edge, condensing the law of reality on the knife tip.

Then, as that big lumbering beast reached him, that axe of death far into the sky, Colt did two things simultaneously.

First, with his free hand, Colt sliced the air—his finger point sheering through the intangible and weaker Edict trying to influence him; instantly, his body felt lighter. At the same time, he snapped his knife forward, an invisible wave of death spiraling out from it, thin as he could make it, sharp as he could make it.

The officer’s face changed, and certain victory turned to confusion and shock; its jaw dropped, and that dumb expression was almost priceless.

Right before the deadly line tore into him, a second coat of golden skin radiated outward, clashing with the Edict. His cut came to a standstill against the barrier, golden sparks from where it met and tore at it, trying to pierce forward. That it was able to block it…

No.

Colt grit his teeth—his eyes focused, slipping into a state of meditation as he examined the warring forces.

CUT.

Colt stacked his will against the cyclop's superior skills and superior stats, narrowing the edge of the invisible blade, his body tense. The feeling of dread was sinking back in, a realization that he might not be able to slice into this thing at all if it had a skill and levels like this.

But that was absurd.

To cut was to divide. If he couldn’t cut, the blade wasn’t sharp enough.

Colt thinned the blade even more.

The sparks increased.

Sweat ran down from his forehead as he focused on the warring wills; the monster was trying to wrap its Dread around it, trying to dismiss the attack as an inevitable failure, layering his skill with an infusion of his own Edict. The two had a synergy to them.

…A synergy.

Colt’s blade thinned finer. And finer. The will to hold it harder, wrestling with his soul. It was like trying to do long division while singing and balancing on a thin pole—or so, mentally, it felt.

Then, Colt saw it. Felt it. There was something he hadn’t considered: a synergy of his own that hadn’t been considered. This weapon, this invisible blade, was tied to him, an extension of him and his will as he pressed his universal law into a physical being. It was as much him as his body in terms of reality. And so…

He activated Phantom Step.

The instant he tried it, a pain shot through his head like a bullet went through his skull; the pain radiated throughout his body, screaming that it shouldn’t be possible, that it was too much at once. The focus on the edge of his weapon—the conjunction of shoving it into a Skill that wasn’t near him. There wasn’t a way to handle it.

Colt ignored it and pressed forward, past the pain and warnings.

And the System gave way before he did.

The invisible blade vanished an inch through the barrier. Then it reappeared in the half-inch space between the Cyclops and its barrier, phasing through the physical barrier as it stepped out of physical space for the barest of a second.

Then, with a blade finer than any Colt had manifested before, it tore right through the officer, splitting the monster in half; blood poured from the wounds, and Colt went down to a knee—his head splitting, his heart racing, and sweat pouring from him. He felt it. He’d broken something greater than himself, found a hole somewhere, and his body paid the price like the system beat him with a club as punishment.

———

You have defeated Cyclops Officer - Level 51

You have gained Skill: *Phantoms Gambit* [Epic] (Basic)

This Skill has replaced *Phantom’s Step* [Rare] (Basic); you have started this skill at a lower level due to rarity difference and mastery.

*Phantoms Gambit* (Basic) - Level 3

This skill is an extension of the self and the ability to step into the non-corporeal realm temporarily. Weapons, the self, and some objects separate from the user's body can phase out of physical reality for a moment and then return to their physical status. It's a hell of a party trick.

*Meditate* (Intermediate) has gained a level!

Your understanding of the Edict Cut has evolved. Cut (Lesser) has become Cut (Greater)

———

Colt sat on the ground, eyes glazed as he felt hollowed out from the inside. Up until one of those wounded cyclops managed to climb to its feet and try to reach him.

That put enough sense into him to send a wave of death upon it. The Cut was much easier to form, refine, and make an invisible and impossibly thin piece of invisible death. It was as if the Edict now not only responded to him but was eager to obey. It wanted to be weaved into reality by his hands.

Like its officer, the first cyclops that tried to kill him was split in half. Easier now.

He took care of the last one a minute after pulling himself together to finish the job. Not a couple of seconds after that, Nick had shot off another flare, then another after that, this one a bright red light. This was the signal that he needed help. So Colt picked up what pieces he had and then got to moving. His whetstone had worked.

———

You have leveled up!

You have 3 Stat points to spend. You have gained 1 point of Dexterity and 1 point of Soul

———