Kael woke with a jolt, his heart hammering against his ribs. The familiar silence of the basement pressed in on him, the stale air heavy with the scents of dust and decay.

He sat up, pushing himself away from the cold stone floor, a wave of nausea momentarily washing over him and his muscles protesting with a chorus of dull aches, the lingering soreness a testament to his recent battles. But there was a difference, a newfound awareness that went beyond the throbbing pain. His senses felt heightened, sharpened, attuned to the subtle shifts in the air, the echoes of sounds he would have previously missed. He took a deep breath, the air stale and musty, yet somehow… cleaner than the last time he’d awakened here. He could still taste the metallic tang of blood, a phantom flavor that lingered on his tongue, but it was fainter now, almost a memory rather than a tangible presence.

A wave of shame washed over him as a realization pierced the haze of his post-sleep stupor. The System. The stat points. He’d forgotten. Completely forgotten about them. He’d been so focused on the immediate needs—food, clothes, a weapon, a fleeting sense of belonging in the chaotic warmth of the inn—that he’d neglected the most crucial aspect of his survival. The very thing that could tilt the scales in his favor, that could offer him a real chance at not just surviving, but thriving in this unforgiving world. He felt like an idiot, a naive child playing with powers he didn’t understand, squandering precious resources, letting opportunities slip through his fingers like grains of sand.

The memory of his desperate scramble through the Market of Shadows, the humiliating encounter with the woman who’d robbed him blind, the unexpected kindness of the innkeeper— it all rushed back in a chaotic flood. He had been so focused on surviving, on simply putting one foot in front of the other, that he had neglected the very tool that could help him navigate this brutal reality.

“Idiot,” he muttered, the word harsh, accusatory, directed at himself. “You could be so much stronger, if you’d just taken the time.” The frustration, tinged with a sharp pang of self-directed anger, spurred him into action.

He summoned the System interface, the familiar blue screens materializing before him. It was as if he were seeing them for the first time— the stark lines, the crisp font, the meticulously organized data. This was his life now. The only tool he had against the relentless tide of chaos that threatened to consume him.

General Information Name: Kael

Level: 2 -> 3

Species: Human

Age: 16

Status Strength: 2 -> 3

Muscle Power: 1 -> 3

Grip Strength: 2 -> 4

Force Efficiency: 2

Explosive Power: 1

Dexterity: 3 -> 4

Agility: 3 -> 4

Precision: 2

Reflexes: 4

Coordination: 3 -> 4

Intelligence: 2

Memory: 2

Reasoning: 2 -> 3

Creativity: 2

Focus: 3

Wisdom: 4

Perception: 4

Insight: 3

Judgment: 4 -> 5

Willpower: 4

Constitution: 2 -> 3

Vitality: 1 -> 3

Toughness: 2 -> 4

Metabolism: 1

Endurance: 2 -> 3

Charisma: 2

Persuasion: 1 -> 2

Leadership: 1

Empathy: 3

Presence: 1

Skills Combat Skills:

Blunt Weapons (Novice, Level 4 -> 9): Increased proficiency in using blunt weapons. Basic combat skills improved.

Piercing Weapons (Novice, Level 1): Increased proficiency in using piercing weapons. Enhanced accuracy and effectiveness with thrusting attacks.

Opportunistic fighter (Novice, Level 1): Improves the combat adaptability, using the surroundings and unexpected tactics to disrupt and disorient opponents.

Miscellaneous Skills:

Stealth: (Novice, Level 10) Able to move quietly and avoid detection in familiar environments.

Scavenging: (Novice, Level 12) Capable of finding useful items in trash heaps or abandoned places, though often limited by physical strength.

Survival Instincts: (Novice, Level 10 -> 13) Has an intuitive sense for danger and can react quickly to escape or hide.

Regeneration: (Novice, Level 1 -> 4) Slowly regenerates over time. This process only works outside of combat.

Void Skills:

Minor Void Burst(Novice, Level 2): Release a pulse of Void energy with each hit, disrupting enemies and destabilizing physical objects. Duration variable. Void Energy Cost: 10.

Equipment Weapons:

Club-Hammer (Common): The wooden haft is cracked and splintered, its surface rough to the touch. The metal head is dented and scratched, bearing the marks of countless battles. Though its appearance is worn and unimpressive, this weapon carries a rugged reliability, perfect for a desperate fighter needing a sturdy tool for survival. At least, until it breaks.

Armor:

Crude Leather Vambraces (Common): Scuffed and cracked, these stiff leather vambraces bear the marks of harsh use and neglect. The surface is worn and scarred, providing minimal protection against attacks. Roughly crafted, they offer just enough defense to shield the forearms from the worst of glancing blows.

Accessories:

Necklace (Trash): A piece of string with a tiny metal token from his orphan family. The leather strap is broken and has been crudely tied.

Abilities And Traits Traits:

Fragile: Your body is weak and prone to illness.

Void Touched: The essence of the Void Shard has infused your being, granting you a unique connection to the powers of the Void.

Void Shard Influence:Tier 0: Establishment

Titles and Achievements

Quests

Void Shard Void Energy:8/10

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Void Crystal (Tier 1):1/3

Upgrades: Tier 0: Establishment

Free slots remaining:1/1

Nexus Established

Stat Points Available: 8

Skill Points Available: 9

Skill Tokens Available: 0

His gaze lingered on the General Information screen, a strange satisfaction washing over him. Level three. He was Level Three now. Not exactly a hero of legend, not someone who’d turn heads in Mudtown or inspire awe across the Empire, but it was a tangible improvement, a step forward on a path that had seemed impossible just days ago. The thought of facing Venn, Sera, and Dorrin with these upgrades brought a flicker of a smile to his lips. It wouldn’t be a massacre, not yet. But he would at least stand a fighting chance.

His gaze moved to the Status screen, heart pounding in anticipation. This was what truly mattered—the tangible proof of his growth, the representation of his strength, agility, and ability to withstand the trials that lay ahead. Eight Stat Points. Eight tiny increments of power, each one a potential lifeline, waiting to be distributed. Eight chances to shift the balance, to tilt the scales ever so slightly in his favor. Eight steps forward in a game where every inch gained could be the difference between life and death.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he examined the sub-stats. Each one represented a different facet of his survival. He needed to be stronger, yes—more resilient. But brute strength alone wouldn’t be enough. He needed to be quick, to anticipate and adapt. He had to be smarter, able to outthink not just his enemies, but the unpredictable dangers of the realms and the unforgiving streets of the city.

His fingers hovered over the Strength category first. His physical limitations had been painfully clear in his last fight—the bruises and cuts still fresh on his skin, the way his muscles had screamed in protest as he pushed them beyond their limits. One point into grip strength. He remembered how his hands had nearly given out, the weapon slipping from his grasp at a crucial moment. That could never happen again. The next point went into explosive power, a calculated risk. He needed the ability to strike fast and hard, to end a fight before it spiraled out of control.

Next, he turned to Dexterity. Agility had been his saving grace more times than he could count. The ability to move fluidly, to twist and turn in tight spaces, to react in the blink of an eye—it was the difference between slipping through the cracks and being caught in the jaws of a trap. One point into agility, boosting it to five. It wasn’t much, but it might be enough to help him slip through danger like a shadow slipping through a crack in the wall. Another point into coordination, a critical upgrade. His hands had felt clumsy, sluggish in that last fight. He needed precision, the ability to strike exactly where he intended, to make each movement count.

Constitution was next. He’d been teetering on the edge of exhaustion, his body a fragile shell barely holding together. Two points into vitality. He could still feel the chill of the slum’s air seeping into his bones, the constant threat of sickness a gnawing worry at the back of his mind. This would help, a buffer against the filth and disease that surrounded him. One more point into toughness. The memory of the shadow creature’s claws raking across his back, the Grotto Maw’s bite tearing into his flesh—they were still too fresh, too real. He needed to be tougher, to take those hits and keep going.

Finally, his gaze shifted to Intelligence. He’d made too many mistakes, let fear and desperation cloud his judgment. One point into Reasoning, a hope that it would clear the fog, help him see the paths he needed to take. The irony wasn’t lost on him—putting points into Reasoning after forgetting to allocate his stats in the first place. But better late than never.

He took a mental step back, scanning the updated status screen. The numbers shifted, the minor adjustments almost imperceptible to anyone but him. But he felt it—a faint, reassuring shift in his own body, a little more strength in his muscles, a little more clarity in his thoughts. He wasn’t suddenly invincible. He wasn’t going to conquer the realms with a single wave of his hand. But he was stronger now, healthier, more resilient.

Kael scrolled down, his gaze lingering on the remaining Skill Points, a separate set of choices that could significantly alter his ability to navigate this world. He scrolled through the list, his gaze locking onto the number of unallocated Skill Points. Nine. Nine precious opportunities to refine his abilities, to sculpt himself into something more than just a desperate survivor. These choices could determine whether he clawed his way through the challenges ahead or became another casualty, forgotten in the chaos.

He took a deep breath, letting his eyes drift shut. Memories of recent battles flickered through his mind: the bone-jarring impacts, the searing pain, and the brief, exhilarating moments when everything clicked, when he felt in control. He needed more of those moments, needed to tip the scales in his favor, to feel less like a cornered animal and more like a predator in his own right.

Blunt Weapons. He allocated three points without hesitation, bringing it to Level 12. He could almost feel the weight of the club-hammer in his hands, the satisfying crunch as it struck home. There was something visceral, something raw about wielding a blunt weapon—a tool that didn’t just wound but shattered, crushed. It felt right, an extension of his anger and his determination. Swords and bows might be more elegant, but elegance didn’t win fights in dark alleys or in the chaos of the realms. Brutal efficiency did.

Next, he considered Piercing Weapons. He hesitated only briefly before investing a point. It was just a contingency, a nod to the unpredictability of his life. A blade could be useful—a knife for close encounters, something to slip between ribs when force wasn’t the answer. There was a certain finesse to it, a subtlety that appealed to the part of him that was learning to move quietly, to strike from the shadows. Maybe, with time, he could become more than just a hammer-wielder. Maybe he could be a shadow, quick and deadly. He recalled the feeling of his broken stick-club sliding into the Grotto Maw's brain, into the heart of the Gravelgnaw, and nodded in grim acceptance.

His eyes lingered on Opportunistic Fighter. It was a skill that seemed almost tailor-made for someone like him—scrappy, resourceful, someone who could turn the smallest advantage into victory. He allocated two more points, feeling a faint thrill at the thought of outmaneuvering his opponents, of using his environment, his quick wits, to turn the tables on those who underestimated him. It was about more than just fighting—it was about surviving, about taking whatever life threw at him and using it to his advantage.

He scrolled down further, contemplating the Miscellaneous Skills. Stealth tempted him, the thought of slipping through the city unnoticed, of avoiding conflict altogether. But he knew, deep down, that hiding wouldn’t save him. The city, the realms—neither would let him be. Sooner or later, he’d be forced to fight, to stand his ground. Stealth could only take him so far. He moved past it, his finger hovering over the next option.

Survival Instinct. He remembered the prickling sensation at the back of his mind during his last battle, the way his body seemed to know when danger was near, how to react before he even fully understood the threat. That instinct had kept him alive more than once, and he needed it sharper, stronger. He added a point, feeling the skill’s enhancement settle like a coiled spring at the edge of his consciousness. If he couldn’t trust anyone else, he’d trust his own instincts, honed by the unforgiving world he was navigating.

Finally, he reached Regeneration. Two points. It felt like a necessary investment, a lifeline against the constant punishment his body endured. Healing faster, enduring more—it was the difference between life and death when every wound, every scrape, could be the one that ended him. He could feel the skill’s effect already, a faint tingle as his body seemed to respond, knitting itself back together just a bit more efficiently.

With a final glance at the screen, he dismissed it, the glowing symbols fading from his view. He exhaled slowly, his breath releasing the tension knotted in his chest. He felt… different. Not just physically—though the aches and pains seemed a little less sharp—but mentally, too. There was a clarity to his thoughts, a sense of purpose that hadn’t been there before. He ran his hand over the smooth surface of the vambraces he'd looted, feeling the rough texture of the leather. It offered minimal protection, yes, but it was something. A reminder that he wasn't completely defenseless.

A strange, unfamiliar energy thrummed beneath his skin, a warmth that spread outward from the center of his chest, a pulsing rhythm that echoed the beat of his heart. The Void Shard. It was more than just a tool, he was beginning to realize. It was a part of him now, a symbiotic presence that reacted to his will, his intentions, amplifying his strengths, compensating for his weaknesses.

He closed his eyes, picturing the swirling darkness of the boundary fog, the grotesque forms of the creatures he'd faced. He thought of the challenges that awaited him, the battles he knew he couldn't avoid. But now, a flicker of anticipation, even excitement, mingled with the fear. He was ready to face them, ready to test his limits.