Surrounded by the nine menhirs, Ian harassed the whispers again.
"I don't understand what all these attributes bullshit is about! Why isn't it like real life? I want my body back!"
“[The process obeys some rules that aim to remove genetic randomness. Therefore, in the new world there are nine »fixed attributes« and a variable number of »exclusive ones«. The fixed ones will dictate how you will overcome the many obstacles that will stand between you and your desire to live.]”
"Ok! What about the exclusive ones?"
"[»Exclusive attributes« can only be obtained after acquiring the favor of a »spirit«. These also grant exclusive skills]"
“A spirit? You expect me to pick up a ouija board?"
“[No! The »spirits« are the ones who will offer you that opportunity. In fact, you've already met two! That's unusual. You seem to possess something that interests them.]”
"What? Stubbornness?"
“[I guess »Darkness« and a perverse sense of »Justice«.]”
"Darkness? Where does that leave those I've... Shit! We're getting off topic! I don't know anything about attributes! How do you expect me to…?"
The menhirs turned into smoke again and took the form of twelve unique fighters that looked very much like him.
The whispers informed Ian that perhaps this would make things easier. The road was long, and this was just the starting point. This choice would set the path forward, giving him a big boost in one style of combat.
"What?! No, no, no! Before I choose anything, I need to know what I'm up against and under what circumstances."
“[Impossible! Choose from one of these twelve basic fighting styles. Each one comes with its own set of attributes and initial magic skills. Not all skills are fixed! One comes by default and the other two are up to you.]”
"You didn't hear me or what?! Look, I don't like making reckless decisions so...!"
“[Im-po-si-ble! But there is good news! You can postpone choosing the magic skills until you get there.]”
“Well… At least that's something!”
Aside from the tasteless joke about planetary abduction and being forced to live in some sort of fantasy medieval video game of planetary proportions, Ian was incredibly excited.
It was evident that his captors were attempting to entice him, but he didn't mind succumbing. They had won him over. A life that progressed at the rate of his kills seemed thrilling. The creations felt like an added bonus.
The idea of killing every bastard that crossed his path without the force of law to punish him was exhilarating, to say the least. He was going to fucking heaven. Though whispers warned him that he couldn't survive alone. That raised the difficulty from easy and fun to hellish and tedious.
After a click of his tongue, Ian looked into the darkness around him and showed a twisted smile. "What are you, sadistic motherfuckers?! Video game freaks who turned gods?!"
In any case, he left nothing important behind in the old world to regret being there now. His paternal grandparents? He didn't want to see them. The rest of his relatives? Either they were dead or he didn't care about them. Acquaintances?
“Jean.”
Perhaps she would have been someone interesting to know. However, she was not his type. She wasn't pretty and didn't take care of herself at all. He preferred the girls he had met in the military. Although he hadn't spent more than a week with any of them. None of them had put up with his habit of distancing from everyone.
The one he would miss was his partner, Alek. Ian never used the word friend, but he could make an exception for him.
"People make you weak! … Shit! Why do I keep repeating that bastard's words? … That thing… ghost or whatever, it was right! I act as if I owe him something.”
Gritting his teeth. “Fuck you, old man! No one will ever find you!"
Focusing on what was important, he looked at the twelve individuals again. All the starting points were attractive, even the ones who looked like wimpy thieves. Besides, he knew from experience that knowing himself was just as important as knowing his companions. Would he have to rely on them?
“They are likely to be civilians.”
In a world where survival would be an everyday occurrence, people would probably behave more like scared donkeys and less like soldiers. It was unrealistic to expect them to behave like his former squadron, just as it was unrealistic to expect their enemies to be professionals.
The whispers indicated to him that he would have to take risks. Many of them. Healing was essential. Everything was pushing him to become an all-rounder, even if he lacked damage. Cemeteries were filled with brave people who lacked a plan B.
His military experience taught him that a good offense is the best defense. In modern warfare, blocking projectiles was costly and inefficient. Eliminating targets quickly was always more profitable because there is always a bigger pickle. However, this principle applied to modern warfare and he was going to a medieval world.
"A shield and steel armor should be a good choice!"
Ian concentrated on the four classes that appeared to be the most heavily armed: the two warriors, the druid, and the cleric. The warriors' fixed magic skill was a passive healing that required stamina, although it could be overcharged in exchange for mana for stronger passive healing. The other two, on the other hand, had a fixed magic healing skill that could be activated with mana alone, but much more powerful and instant.
"I'm torn between the Heavy Warrior and the Druid."
Another thing he had to keep in mind was that there was nothing special that would prevent his companions from attacking him. He would have to keep an eye on who he surrounded himself with and always have mana and stamina in reserve. Even though [Preventive Instinct] would help him with that, he would have to choose who to trust with his back again.
"I didn't expect to miss that idiot so much! Where the hell are you, Alek? I hope we meet again. If not, good luck... friend!"
Alek and he had been inseparable for the past five years. After leaving the military under unusual circumstances, they began working in jobs of dubious legality.
Leaving behind what would never be again, Ian turned his attention to the heavy fighters. However, as he attempted to approach them, a bright light revealed a male figure that appeared out of nowhere. A figure of dazzling brilliance.
When the glow subsided and Ian could see clearly, the figure had taken on the same appearance he saw every morning in the mirror. He smiled, pleased with what he saw. Although he was significantly taller than before, standing at over two meters in height. One thing greatly bothered him; he was weaker than he was on Earth.
"The promised customization system! Do I have carte blanche?"
He quickly discovered that was not the case. After opting for a quick class customization, he was only able to make minor modifications. In fact, he only thinned his nose slightly, thickened his lips a bit, made his hair jet black, and lightened his amber eyes. Everything else was perfect.
He looked at his future self's crotch and smiled widely. "Yes, it looks glorious!"
The man began to approach Ian with an outstretched hand, and he reciprocated. After their hands touched, it immediately disappeared, leaving behind an attribute panel with the Fel-Har bonus already included.
Strength: 9 + (1)
Dexterity: 7 + (1)
Agility: 7
Toughness: 5 + (1)
Resistance: 5 + (1)
Wisdom: 2
Intelligence: 1
Willpower: 7 + (1)
Perception: 2
At that moment, he suddenly felt thicker and weaker than usual. It was as if the stats were now tied to his being, nerfing too many aspects.
“[You have 5 additional »attribute points« due to character creation.]”
“[You have chosen the path of the »Heavy Warrior«. When you level up next time, two out of the five points will be assigned automatically. One point will be assigned to Strength, and one to Toughness. You will be able to reorient your path at level 5. Are you sure?]”
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“Yeah! I guess so!”
“[Your new class is »Heavy Warrior«. You can now spend your 5 points.]”
Strength was too important in his new body to ignore it. Despite the bonus, he didn't feel as strong as before. He also felt dumber. Looking at his Intelligence attribute, he thought that was the problem.
“[That's not the problem! It’s »Wisdom« that provides you with general knowledge. »Intelligence« affects your knowledge of magic and magic damage. »Willpower« affects your determination and mana regeneration. Finally, all of the above affect your mana pool to a greater or lesser extent.]”
“If you say so!”
He needed much more than just 5 extra points, but the whispers warned him that he could not subtract them from the other attributes.
"Where do these values come from?"
Whispers told him that those attributes were the most in line with who he was before, mixed with the Heavy Warrior class. He could discard them, but his image would change as well. He would lose height, reach, and the current Fel-Har bonus for a new one tailored to the new class. He couldn't afford that. He needed the fighting ability to move and fight as he was used to.
"Okay! Let's see how this feels. +2 to Strength and +3 to Wisdom."
The effect was immediate. Stronger and sharper. He soon realize that a larger body required more strength, but could also cause more damage with less effort.
“[Would you like to change your »Name« to another one that suits you better? How about »Iridam«?]”
"No way! Leave my name as it is!"
“[What is your »motivation«? What are your goals in this new life?]”
"Survive and not die like a pig! That would be nice!"
“[This is imperative. It’s not a »mission«.]”
"Really? Well... How about... I want to be immortal and invincible! Is that enough?"
“[Mission: »Choose your destiny!« updated to »Reach divinity!«]”
"I can do that?!"
“[It’s impossible for a player.]”
Ian rolled his eyes, disgusted by the incongruity.
The sound of footsteps behind him startled him once more. The hooded man had returned. "What do you want now? Are you obsessed with me, that's why you watch me all the time?"
"I like your choices, but impossible goals are often a great source of despair."
Ian snorted. “Really?!”
“But not all goals are unattainable. Why don't you look for your mother?"
Ian clenched his jaw so hard that his new teeth nearly exploded. "What the hell are you talking about?! Don't mess with me!"
“[Mission: »Reach divinity!« updated to »Find Mary!«]”
Ian froze. His mother had been dead for 12 years. "What kind of joke is this?!"
"It’s not a joke. She was forced to run away from your father. She didn't abandon you like they told you. Your father warned her that if she came back for you, he'd kill you both. That coward; he deserved everything you did to him!"
Ian glared at him. "Bullshit! She's dead!”
Feeling helpless, he remembered the last day he had seen her. She hadn't kissed him goodnight that day. “He told me... He... That son of a..."
The hooded man slowly disappeared. "You should find her before you lose her forever. Oh! By the way... You're welcome!"
Ian was so shocked that he didn't even think about the hooded man's true intentions. He couldn't believe it was possible. He killed his father when his paternal grandfather told him he had killed her.
"That bastard lied! She's been alive all this time!"
How much had she suffered, powerless? Where had she been all this time? He needed answers.
Tears came to his eyes after many years. He remembered one of the many nights his mother put him to bed early, probably to hide what she would suffer later in front of that drunkard. Every morning she lied to him, saying she had fallen. "Don't worry, my boy!" she whispered, giving him a kiss on his forehead as tears streamed down her cheeks.
For a moment, Ian wished that he could have his father in front of him again. He knew that asking for explanations would be useless, so at least he could make him pay. This time he wanted to see him apologize for everything he had done to his mother before granting him a slow death.
“[Unlocked the »Basic« and »Advanced« mastery ranks of all »Weapon skills«.]”
“[You have learned »Regeneration«.]”
[Regeneration] (Basic): Magical support skill that passively channels your stamina to give you a small HP regeneration. Mana consumption can be forced to obtain moderate HP regeneration.
“[You must select two »Magic skills« within the next 5 hours, or they will be assigned by default.]”
"Shut up! This is not a good time! Give me a fucking break…!"
*****
Ian took his time to go to the blacksmith's house and learn the basic crafting skills. With the available materials, he made a shield and a dagger.
The shield was rectangular and measured just over half a meter in width and almost a meter in height. It had a wooden frame, covered with a sheet of bronze and reinforced at the edges.
The dagger was similar in size to a short sword, with a wide blade and several serrations on the edge.
He had to choose between those two items or just a two-handed weapon. He didn’t hesitate in his choice. There would be time for something more aggressive later.
As the purple smoke drew Ian out of the smithy, nine other huge menhirs appeared around him. However, despite looking similar, they were not the ones from before. These stones were about five meters high and covered with moss. They were partially buried in the ground of an ancient forest that barely extended about 100 meters around them. A sparse forest bathed in orange by a beautiful perpetual sunset that shone in the distance.
Bright turquoise particles were swarming endlessly through the forest, creating a mesmerizing sight. They were particularly concentrated around the menhirs, especially near the runes of the same color.
Ian attempted to touch one, but a sudden electric shock prevented him from doing so. Ian thought they were alive, but he was wrong. It was concentrated mana linked to the ritual.
After a long look, thanks to Wisdom and Linguist, Ian was able to decipher some runes. They looked like ancient family names or perhaps place names. What he knew for sure, thanks to the whispers, was that each one belonged to a different biome.
"Any clue where my mother is?"
The whispers informed him that he must first reach the new world. Outraged, he placed his hand on the menhir that represented a place with an intermediate climate.
"I hope you're there, mom!"
He and his mother both hated the heat and the cold, so he chose a place where nature was abundant and with small plains. If she was not there, it was important to find herbivores. Food would help him survive. He also hoped that didn't mean more predators as well.
The change of location was practically instantaneous. The rough terrain covered in leaves gradually gave way to the pleasant sensation of grass under his feet. The grass was tall, easily reaching over his knees and occasionally reached up to his waist. A soft breeze began to sway the grass, replacing the scent of the forest and the beautiful sunset transformed into a dazzling sun that temporarily blinded him.
Feeling free from his captivity, he filled his lungs with fresh air and enjoyed the sounds of nature around him. But the peace didn't last. Guttural sounds coming from throats that Ian didn't think were human alerted him.
Still blinded, he crouched down and opened the inventory. Luckily, the panels were always visible.
As he equipped the dagger and shield, the Linguist skill helped him make out two words among the many guttural voices that reached his ears. "There!" and "Get him!"
It was curious that the constant whispering considered that to be a language, but Ian didn't laugh. He felt sorry for them. They would soon discover that he had no intention of becoming anyone's prey.