Rin didn’t remember passing out, only the overwhelming pain of his leg regrowing as his vision faded to black. In retrospect, the healing was more painful than the actual injury. Thankfully, when he awoke, he was both whole and blessedly pain-free. His broken hand was mended without a scratch, the cut on his chin erased. Not even the wound on his abdomen from the turtletans remained. On closer examination, even old scars he’d had for years had healed.
I guess the Cursed class worked as advertised.
He focused his attention inward, expecting to fight for his life against the lethal dose of Craven’s poison. In his mind’s eye was a welcome surprise.
Cursed class granted.
Permanent penalty of -100% XP gain.
Immunity to Craven’s toxin in all forms.
Poison resistance upgraded to Grade D.
Huh. I don’t remember seeing anything about immunity in the class description. And Grade D for poison resistance is a massive upgrade. Too bad I have to get poisoned to try it out. What else is this class hiding?
He rose to his feet feeling light-footed and surprisingly refreshed. He searched the cavern for the mysterious Lord Easton. It was empty, and Rin exhaled in relief.
He’s gone. I suppose he did what he came for.
Beneath Rin’s fear of the man was a seething rage, rooted in the injustice of what had happened. But against a man like Lord Easton, what could he do? The noble was clearly wealthy, with enough power and levels to subdue even his most outlandish attempts at revenge, even without having a Cursed class.
It made Rin feel powerless. Impotent. And the anger only reinforced his rising frustration at his own helplessness. He had to make a conscious effort to unclench his white-knuckled fists.
This world is so unfair.
The boy exhaled, forcing himself to calm. One day, he might be in a position to exact revenge. But today was not that day. Today, he had work to do.
And work was an area where potato farmers excelled.
Looking down, Rin found his clothes covered in blood, not to mention the left leg of his breeches sliced off at the knee. He disrobed by the tranquil pond and scrubbed at his clothes, coloring the water red. The prominent rust-colored stain on his shirt wouldn’t yield no matter what he tried. He let the clothes dry, then dressed, stashing the leg of the severed breeches in his pocket.
When he spotted the dungeon flower beside the pond, he paused. Technically, its poison shouldn’t harm him now. Charisma might be a junk stat, but Rin wouldn’t pass up free points. According to Identify, the points were permanent.
He delicately tore a tiny piece from the tip of the flower and swallowed it before he could think twice about the matter.
Nothing happened.
I should have received a poison notification if it was still dangerous.
He took a larger bite, chewing it carefully, and a burst of juice hit his tongue. This time, there was no numbing sensation sweeping down his throat. With the poison neutralized, the flower had an herbal bitterness that wasn’t wholly unpleasant, just strange, like a distinctly new flavor he’d never tasted before.
He swallowed. A notification appeared.
+1 Charisma
Huh.
Combined with the dungeon flower Lord Easton had forced upon him, he now had a Charisma of 2. Despite the number being unimpressive, it was likely the highest Charisma the town of Bastion had seen in a century.
Hmm, unless there are other Cursed people here? Maybe there’s a secret community where I can hide out while I get stronger—
No.
No more levels.
There would be no getting stronger. It was slowly sinking in. The penalty on his XP gain was insurmountable. He was stuck at level 6 forever. He would never level up, never acquire attribute points, and never increase his stats.
Rin despaired, clutching his head.
What will I tell my parents? How will I live? I’ll be an outcast. Weak, pitied, jobless. Probably homeless, too. I’ll never raise my attributes again!
He froze.
Wait—no, that’s not true. I just increased my Charisma by 2 points.
He gripped his chin, his default pose when thinking. A glimmer of hope formed in his mind, drawing him back from the brink of hopelessness.
Evidently, he could still acquire points from consuming certain things. He’d never heard of anything consumable that led to permanent stat gains. That would be nothing short of miraculous. Sure, some foods and artifacts would give temporary buffs, but nothing permanent.
Until now, with these dungeon flowers.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Too bad it’s only Charisma.
Even if he found a variety of dungeon flower that led to useful attribute boosts, that path would be a painful grind to power, far slower than what leveling would take. But he would take whatever he could get.
Time to spend the attribute points I already have.
Rin brought up his status with a thought. He noticed his Charisma had a plus two in parentheses, denoting its recent change.
Rin Cartwright
[CURSED] Level 6 Potato Farmer
Attributes:
Strength: 13
Dexterity: 15
Perception: 15
Stamina: 15
Toughness: 8
Current HP: 80/80
Recovery: 12 HP/min
Magic: 10
Current MP: 100/100
Absorption: 5 MP/min
Charisma: 2 (+2)
Unspent Attribute Points Available: 18
Special Abilities:
Identify: Grade F
Poison Resistance: Grade D
Focused Recovery: Grade F
Without deliberation, Rin spent all his attribute points on Recovery. The beatdown from Lord Easton had stricken him with a deep sense of helplessness. Combined with the poisoning that brought him to the brink of death, it rammed home the idea he needed to be more resilient. He needed to be able to take a hit and recover. Even if these were the last attribute points he ever possessed, it was a glaring weakness he had to shore up.
His Recovery stat updated as he focused on it.
Recovery: 30 HP/min (+18)
Seeing the number in the light of his other stats, he doubted his decision. None of his other attributes were above 15, yet his Recovery was now 30, a blatant outlier.
He grimaced and scratched his head.
That may have been overkill. Oh well, it’s permanent now. What’s done is done.
As he stood there scratching his head, a swirling smoke trail of essence formed into a monster right before his eyes. It was a monkey, three feet tall and covered in thick stone skin.
What the …
He triggered Identify.
Dungeon Boss: Level 7 Lemur (Stone Type)
For a stunned moment, Rin stared at the monster. The monster stared back.
It must have been 10 minutes since Easton killed the boss. Gods above, where’s my sword!?
He patted his sides, feeling nothing, then saw the weapon lying a dozen feet away where the noble had backhanded him. Oddly, the boss still hadn’t attacked. It just stood there with a bewildered expression.
Rin curled his arms above his head in a ridiculous monkey-like caricature.
“Ooh ooh, aah aah?” He rocked crab-like in the direction of his sword, nestling his head in an armpit. “Ooh, ooh, ooh!”
The boss was now very confused.
Unfortunately, it was cured the moment Rin picked up his sword. It loosed a vicious shriek and jumped back onto a tall stalagmite, out of range. The lemur gripped the column in one hand while waving and hollering obscenities in Rin’s direction.
The boss leaped to another stalagmite, then another, and another. Its next leap dove straight at Rin.
The boy raised his blade to impale the beast cleanly through the heart. But its stone skin sent the steel skittering aside.
The lemur landed, snarling. It swung a haymaker punch into Rin’s chest. The force knocked Rin off his feet to crash into a wall.
Not again!
Rin wheezed, but his newly raised Recovery stat made all the difference. He sprang back to his feet, clutching his sword.
The monster charged.
Rin dove aside at the last second.
The lemur smashed into the wall with a boom and a cloud of dust.
While the monster was stunned, Rin darted in and struck at its hamstrings, attempting to disable the thing.
Again, the stone skin resisted. It took three swings to hamstring one leg, and the monkey spun around with a roar. It took a step and cried out in agony.
In that pivotal moment, Rin surged forward. He thrust his sword into the monster’s armpit, where its rocky skin was folded and soft.
His steel blade sank deep into its chest, piercing its heart.
The monkey froze. Its eyes turned to glass.
It slid from his sword, dead.
Dungeon boss defeated
The absence of XP in the notification was a stark reminder of Rin’s Cursed class. The three simple words were surprisingly depressing.
Rin leaned against the wall, catching his breath. A glowing smoke trail of essence left the monster’s corpse and hovered about him. It seemed it didn’t know what to do, hanging there without purpose.
What a waste.
The magical cloud dissipated slowly, absorbing into the dungeon’s ambient mana for another 10 minutes until the next respawn.
Rin sheathed his weapon and stood stock still, pondering a thought he couldn’t shake.
What’s the point of even fighting? I’ll never get experience. Never level up. There’s no benefit, only downsides. I could get seriously hurt.
The boy shook his head. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he couldn't be a warrior. It was all he’d ever considered. He felt lost, his very identity under threat.
Years of training, all for nothing. My life has been a waste.
He peered around, looking for some kind of consolation prize. Dungeons were supposed to have treasure chests with rewards at the end, but there was nothing to be found.
Easton must have taken it already.
According to Rin’s parents, you only earned a dungeon chest once, the first time the boss was killed. You couldn’t hang around another 10 minutes and keep killing the boss, reaping more chests. At least, that’s how it worked for the normal classes, like Mage and Warrior.
But Rin’s Cursed class threw everything into doubt. He didn’t gain experience. Could he acquire treasure chests? He didn’t know.
Rin’s shoulders slumped as he made his way to the exit. He spotted a solitary dungeon flower he’d overlooked and held it up to a shaft of light, admiring the way the leaves sparkled as he twirled it by the stem. He crushed the beautiful flower in his fist, taking out his frustration by squeezing it tight as if all his hopes and dreams were turning to dust in his hands.
When the moment passed, he tossed it in his mouth.
+1 Charisma
A sorry prize indeed.
The seething bitterness in his heart matched the flavor perfectly.