The size increase wasn’t anything major, but it was still a tangible difference all things considered. Her hands were slightly larger, her height just a tad bit higher, and her physical strength seemed to increase as well.
LEVEL : 2
Hatchling Red
HP : 370
ATT : 30
AGI : 26
ATT DEF : 32
MAG DEF : 15
They were reflected upon her status, although she didn’t know what actually caused her to become a little stronger. What interested her the most, however, was that she had reached level 2!
… whatever that was supposed to mean.
“Wolves are now 7.5 times stronger than me now. If my maths is right, then that means they’re going to be twice as weak too!” Hatchling Red’s cheerful voice was tamed this time around.
She now knew that the Cave Wolves relied heavily on sound, so limiting the sounds she made was her number one priority. Atop her shoulder was the remains of a wolf, skinned cleanly and would serve as rations the next time she became hungry.
Additionally, various fangs were kept inside of pocket found along her sticky, red coat which was strangely undamaged. It was as if the fibers of her coat had regenerated, much like the wounds of her body.
She didn’t put much thought into it. Previously as a Corrupted, her coat had the same ability, and she too could regenerate from lethal wounds. However, what did ‘lethal’ actually mean to a being like her now?
She became oddly sentimental, lost in her whacky train of thoughts as she scoured the mostly vacant caverns. They became wider the longer she explored and came across numerous dead ends. Her sore calves were all she had to show for her efforts, although it was but a minor complaint.
Was it really a train of thought, or just a monkey slamming a pair of cymbals in her brain?
“I could become hungry at any second now. My stomach growls louder than wolves. Scary.” She muttered, slapping her belly as if to temper it. “Ugh. Food tastes bad. But how come I saw people eating it with smiles on their faces? Weird. Maybe humans and people with wolf ears have scarier stomachs.”
She recalled a brown version of meat that people used to eat, and she wondered how they achieved that color on the meat in the first place.
“Mmm…”
She engaged a few brain cells.
“Mmmm…”
Then half.
“MMMMM….!”
Alas, not even an army of brain cells could lead her to understand the existence of this mystical browned meat.
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At best, she might have to find someone to teach her.
The thought made her giddy enough to skip, but soon after as she passed by a small pool of crystal-clear water, she gazed down at her own reflection with a solemn look.
“Will people run away from me?”
This was her first immediate thought. She knew exactly what she was, but also what she wanted to become. Survival should have been her priority. But that was easy only for a being that had lived its life ‘living’, rather than being a slave to the twisted monster that once defined them.
The Vengeful Red-Hooded Assassin had never ‘lived’ before.
A finger was brought to her hair, where she twirled and pushed her bangs aside before smiling at herself and skipping off deeper into the luminous cavern.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t try. Hehe. I have a thingy called ‘Friendship’ too. I wanna know what tasty meat is like. What is tasty, by the way? Can the voice tell me? Helloooo~?”
Hatchling Red also understood the importance of her skills after the last encounter. The information stored within this weird, yet helpful voice was a treasure trove and her lifeline.
It was clear that fighting the way she once did wasn’t going to cut it. At least not as she currently was, and certainly not without her weapon – Fairytale’s Bane.
“Fine then. Don’t answer me. Hm. What about levels. Can you tell me more about that?”
< Levels >
< The quality of the soul >
< Levels are a numerical value that reflects the quality of a being’s soul. The higher the number grows, the greater the quality becomes. Limitations: Level 140. Level 200+ for the Blessed >
It was a standard definition. Nothing too much to learn about, but at least the voice was responding again in the form of its weird visual prompts. She reached towards the slightly blue, translucent floating screen before her, and her hand went right though.
“The wolves couldn’t see this. I’m the only one who can, huh. Level 200. I have a skill that says ‘Blessing’. Does that mean I can become strong?”
< Blessing of the Nexus >
< Unknown. You do not have this Blessing >
“What about the one I already have?” Hatchling Red felt a little weirded out talking to what was just a wall of text as she clambered over rocky walls, crawled through tight gaps, and swam in shallow, underwater sections.
Now that she thought about it, how did those wolves end up that deep into the cavern? There was likely another route, but she followed the one where the air swept through the strongest.
Periodically, she’d lick a finger and hold it into the air to check for the wind.
< Blessing of the Star Child >
< A wish is granted… >
< EFFECT: Unknown >
That’s it…?
She thought, disappointed by the lackluster description yet again. Still, she went through the rest of her abilities in case there was something special, just like [Huntress’ Slash], or [Critical Eye].
But first, she wanted to know what a ‘Blessing’ was.
< Blessings >
< A fundamental resonance with an Advent or Archetype >
< Advent >
< Object of power that can, have or will change the world >
< Archetype >
< Entities born from the Second Advent; the Advent of Amalgamation; the Nexus. They are the thesis of all concepts their namesake comprises of, sewn up into a conscious entity that encapsulates it >
“Amalgamation…”
For some reason, this word resonated deeply with Hatchling Red as she asked her soundless companion about a peculiar ability of hers as she reached a strangely expansive cavern, where dozens of stalactites rose like the spears of giants.
< ABILITY: Aspect of Amalgamation >
< The sum of the parts is truly larger than the whole >
< EFFECT: Able to absorb the stats of fallen enemies through consumption >
“Oh… So that’s why my stats grew.”
Armed with this knowledge, Hatchling Red set her sights on several patrolling wolves in the distance and lapped her lips as though she were a wolf herself.