Hunter wanted to freak out. His heart was beating like a drum, and his stomach was twisted with nausea. He could feel a panic attack building. It was like being a wild animal, and knowing there was about to be a tsunami. The wave of emotions was rising just out of sight, preparing to crash down on him in his tiny skiff of stability. He hadn't had a true panic attack in years, but Hunter knew they were always there in the edge of his vision.

Okay, Hunter. The school counselor would call that a distortion. I mean, you've been doing pretty well. You were sent to heaven and then subsequently kicked into a Rift of hell. You've almost died multiple times and had to kill creatures that were warped beyond natural knowledge. That isn't the typical life and times of Hunter Gold. You can do this. You have to keep it together until you get out of the Rift. If the world is too big, then break it into manageable pieces. Right.

Hunter started to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. He unintentionally activated Battle Meditation even though he wasn't directly in combat. The only demons he was fighting were his own. When the skill washed over him, his chest felt lighter. His mind started working faster, and his heartbeat calmed until the rhythm was more typical.

I can will myself through this. Let's go kill things.

Killing imps might not be the best self-medication. Hunter could already imagine what Mrs. Sharp, the school counselor, would say about his choice in activities, but the world was ending, and there probably wouldn't be a place for kind souls like Mrs. Sharp.

Maybe she can become a holy monk raining fists and Cognitive Behavioral Therapy in equal measure.

The chuckle that escaped Hunter's lips released the last of his tension. He felt more confident in continuing. So what if he had a mask glued on his face. No one could see it.

Well, maybe they could.

With a thought, the damaged visage returned so that Hunter could study it in the mirror. He practiced revealing and dismissing it until he felt like it was as natural as breathing. It might be useful to hide his identity behind the strange golden mask. He pulled up the hood of his cloak and gazed at himself in the mirror. He looked like part of some cult.

Whatever.

The more interesting change was the activation of Covetous Eyes. According to the visage's description, its power was drawn from his Faith pool. Hunter didn't know that was a thing. Now that his mind was searching for it, he found a resource pool similar to his health, stamina, and mana. The amount of faith was pitiable with only two points. He only had 20 faith that regenerated at a measly 0.1% every minute.

Maybe it was stupid to think of magic in terms of science, but Hunter noticed that faith was a more energy-dense resource. His Covetous Eyes had not lowered it in the slightest, despite its constant activation. If Hunter had been using mana, it would be draining precipitously. Meanwhile, he could see small tags in the mirror as the skill identified his various equipment. If he wanted, he could focus on each description and pull up more information. Even while just standing there, he earned another level.

Ensuring the mask was in place, he turned from the barracks-like area and returned to the main structure. He grabbed breakfast from the grove and replenished his store of rations before leaving the Sanctuary. He wanted to clear out all of the imps in the area before ascending the mountain. Securing his surroundings would be vital if he needed to retreat from a more powerful enemy.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Hunter carefully closed the doors to the Sanctuary before breaking into a jog. His plan for the day was to circle the mountain's outskirts before returning to the Sanctuary that night. It had taken him two days to cross from the opposite side of his current position, but that had been while fighting enemies more dangerous to him and being careful. With his new abilities, he was confident that he could circumnavigate the Rift and be back before nightfall. Considering his luck, he might arrive after dark, but that would be alright so long as he didn't stumble into any dangerous enemies. Imps should be easy enough to slaughter by this point.

When Hunter reached his first trio of mobs, he was delighted to test out his new skills. As usual, the imps were too focused on their own activities than they were from attack. In this case, they were chittering to each other while lobbing fireballs at one another. The projectiles didn't explode, and the demons looked like they were playing a form of infernal tag.

Hunter activated charge to get his first one. Since it was a little taller than a toddle, he didn't shoulder check it as he expected. Instead, his knee crashed into the imp's face and broke the delicate structure of its skull. It gargled on black blood as Hunter activated cleave. The skill allowed him to slice horizontally through the demon's neck and create a golden afterimage. The light followed the angle of his initial attack and continued to strike the closest imp. The skill gouged a large rent into the second imp, almost separating its arm from the rest of its body.

Not wanting to let the imp use his sonic ability, Hunter followed up with an emerald fireball. Instead of using the skill like usual, he used his mana manipulation to condense more mana into the focus. The results were a success. The fireball crashed into the imp and detonated in its chest. Instead of only damaging the imp like his earlier assaults, the demon's body exploded into tiny pieces of red, gold, and black. Its insides painted the ground around it like a macabre abstract painting.

Two enemies disposed of, Hunter turned to the final one. It was down on its knees with its hands clasped in front of it. The demon's trident lay to the side, forgotten in its begging. Hunter was surprised to realize that the chittering of the monster made sense to him.

"Great One, please tell this low-one how it has offended you. This one has always followed the path of Greed."

Hunter frowned at the imp, and its eyes widened in horror.

Oh right, the mask copies my expressions. I shouldn't forget that. Wearing it isn't like having a standard helmet. The translation feature is new, but I probably look like another greed-aspected denizen of the Rift. I've used Flames of Avarice and am wearing a mask that looks appealing to the imp.

Hunter wanted to take advantage of the mask. Maybe he could raise an army of imps to assault the mountain. He dismissed the idea immediately. Just because the visage could translate the infernal language didn't mean it allowed him to converse with demons. If Hunter were honest with himself, he was uncomfortable with the idea of being able to talk to the things he planned on killing. Slaying monsters was far more manageable when they couldn't beg for their lives.

The warrior slowly moved toward the imp like a specter of death. He limbered up his wrist, causing the point of his sword to make lazy loops toward the ground. The imp only shivered as Hunter drew near, and the human felt like he could taste the creature's fear. It was heavy in the air like an exotic perfume. Hunter decided that he liked the idea of demons fearing him. It was quite a reversal in fortunes.

Instinct made him lift the imp by its throat and hold it aloft. The frail body of the demon was even lighter than it looked.

This is power, Hunter considered as he drew the demon's face closer to his own.

Wisps of gray energy, visible to the eye, rose from the imp's form like steam. It wafted toward Hunter's mask and was greedily consumed. More of the energy was drawn from the imp, and it fell limp as its life force was absorbed by the damaged visage. Hunter's emerald gaze was fixed upon the demon as it shriveled before his eyes. In a matter of minutes, it became a withered husk of itself. A few seconds more, and the husk collapses into ash that drifted upon the wind. The imps focus fell to the group with a muted thump.

So that's what the visage meant by consuming energy. I thought it was talking about more greed weapons, but no. It feeds on something more fundamental than that.

Hunter grinned, and the visage copied his expression. Today's hunt was going to go better than he thought. With all of his enemies defeated, Hunter stalked through the battlefield and collected his enemy's weapons. They were quickly absorbed by his hungry equipment. When he was done, the warrior set off to continue the hunt.