Vroma sighed, the ice essence of her demonic-tainted chi causing her breath to fog as she exhaled. She had been tasked with conceiving a plan that would provoke mass panic and disorder, or was it fear and chaos? She confused the two sometimes. She found herself confused often lately, ever since her wicked and terrifying master had bestowed upon her a mere morsel of his vast power. “Misstressss…. How goesss the plotting?” Her serpentine servant spoke surreptitiously.
“It goes well. I have planted several of the divine beasts and magically imbued creatures with our detestable master’s chi. They will no doubt run wild in the surrounding lands causing much panic and disorder!” She replied, excitement creeping into her voice as visions of pandemonium formed in her mind.
“I’m afraid it’sss actually fear and chaossss, Misstressss…” the reptilian retainer revised.
Vroma’s jaw clenched as she realised her mistake. Icy anger surged through her veins as she lunged at her subordinate, grabbing the humanoid snake-kin by the scruff of its robes, causing it to recoil as the cloth began to freeze on contact. “Do not forget your place, DuanShe. An insult to me is an insult to the great master.” She hissed, releasing her loyal attendant. Where did that come from? She was not normally this violent. Ever since receiving her new powers she found herself overcome by bursts of violent hate for anything and everything in her vicinity. There had to be a cause, but no matter how hard she mused on it, she just could not come to any real conclusion. “I apologise, DuanShe,” she admonished. “I do not know what overcame me. I appreciate your advice. You have served me well these last few months. Why don’t you join me as I examine the gathered specimen?”
“Misstresssss! This impuissssant DuanSshe is unworthy of your kindnesss! Allow me to kowtow before you in recompenssse…”
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--Log--
Experience gained: Survival. Survival has gone from level 0 – level 1.
(The subskill ‘Foraging’ has been created from Survival)
Experience gained: Foraging. Foraging has gone from level 0 – level 0.
Experience gained: Botany. Botany has gone from level 1 – level 1.
Experience gained: Foraging. Foraging has gone from level 0 – level 1.
Experience gained: Botany. Botany has gone from level 1 – level 1.
Experience gained: Analytics has gone from level 1 – level 2.
Experience gained: Combat Prowess. Combat Prowess has gone from level 1 – level 1.
Experience gained: Firearms: Pistol has gone from level 1 – level 1.
(The subskill ‘Uncanny Dodge’ has been created from Combat Prowess)
Experience gained: Uncanny Dodge. Uncanny Dodge has gone from level 0 – level 1.
Experience gained: Combat Prowess. Combat Prowess has gone from level 1 – level 2.
(The subskill ‘Mighty Strike has been created from Combat Prowess)
Experience gained: Mighty Strike. Mighty Strike has gone from level 0 – level 1.
Experience gained: Fortitude. Fortitude has gone from level 1 – level 2.
(The subskill ‘Indomitable Will’ has been created from Fortitude)
Experience gained: Indomitable Will. Indomitable Will has gone from level 0 – level 3.
Experience gained: Analytics has gone from level 1 – level 2.
(Your unique weapon [Sheila] has awoken in response to your will!)
(Your unique weapon [Sheila] has gained the attribute [Metal strikes Wood].)
You have levelled up! Stat allocation will commence upon entering meditation.
Dean woke, blinking his eyes several times before the screen was dismissed. “Pa! Pa! He’s awake!” a voice shouted out, childlike and full of awe. Dean tried to sit up, but pain racked his body, causing a gasp to escape his lips. Peering down, he saw his upper body was bare except for a swathe of bandages covering almost every inch of bare skin. “Yer best stayin’ laid down, mister…” another childish voice advised, this one less flowery than the last. Blinking several more times in attempt to focus his vision, Dean rolled his head in the direction of the speaker. It was a young boy of nine, maybe ten years of age. He was dressed in brown corduroy trousers, and a tightly buttoned homespun shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His skin was pale and marginally bronzed from time spent under an open sky. His hair was dusty brown, sun-bleached and wavy, but cut reasonably short. His face had a light dusting of freckles and was just a bit gaunt. His amber eyes were caught in the sun. “Here, drink this. Pa says it’s important that I help you take water once you wake,” the boy explained, tilting down with a wooden bowl half-filled with sloshing water. Dean looked around the best he could as he leaned over from the cot he lay in. He realized he was in a moving wagon. The owner of the other voice hopped down from behind the boy. A girl, about the same age, but perhaps a bit younger. She closely resembled the boy, but her face was rounder, her was longer than her brother’s and tied up in two tidy pink bows. Unlike her brother, her eyes were a dazzling jade green. She wore a pale-yellow blouse and a matching skirt, a white pinafore over the top. She looked at Dean with wide eyes and a wider smile. She was missing a tooth. Comprehension hit Dean like a truck with aspirations to create the next big isekai. These were the kids from the wagon at the campsite. He had fought a giant sentient bush monster called a “Thistle-Sage” to protect them. He just barely managed to strike the creature a killing blow, destroying its Monster Core before losing consciousness. He was certain he would die then, bleeding out from the numerous wounds he sustained during the confrontation. “Wha… Whas happened….? Yaknow, after I…” Dean led, trying to remember the events after he was pulled into the beasts bristling maw. The young girl’s eyes widened with glee as she began to relate the story “Me and Bobby saw you gets eated! And then we heard you scream like a gi–“
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Don’t say that, Mary! That’s rude!” the boy cut in.
Mary, the young girl, stared pointedly at her brother for interrupting her before continuing. “It was real scary cuz we thought you was dead. But that’s when the monster ‘sploded and you were right there with yer magic glowin’ sword! Then we saw Pa running down the hill real fast like. Y’know he was gunna shoot you before we told him you killed the monster. Ain’t that right Bobby!?”
“Um… yeah…. Sorry., bout that, mister..” The boy said sheepishly.
The wagon lurched to a stop before they could continue, and Dean made another attempt to sit in order to see what was going on as a shock jolted through his shoulder. He managed to stay upright, leaning his left side against the wall of the wagon with a wince. The silhouette of a man came into view from the rear of the vehicle. He was of an average height but stocky with muscle. “Bobby, Mary, come here, now,” the man spoke, with a “please” that he added in an afterthought. Dean caught sight of the man’s hand resting on his waist band, adjacent to his pistol-laden holster. He could feel the other man’s stare bearing down on him, just daring him to try anything. The two children, shied by their father’s words, made their way over with a mutual, “yes, Pa…”.
Still keeping his eyes on Dean, the man spoke to his children. “We’re gonna set up camp for the night. I know it’s a little earlier than we planned but there’s a creek down by the treeline that looks right for fishin’. Bobby, why don’t you grab the rods from my things under the driver’s box and take yer sister down so you can catch us all some dinner.”
With an opportunity to help, the children happily clambered from the wagon and out of sight. Dean could hear them squabble over who would catch the biggest fish as they walked away towards the front of the coach and then off toward the stream. After a short while, the man clambered into the carriage, the whole thing creaked and leaned under the man’s lean mass. He sat opposite Dean with a large, callused hand resting atop his still holstered weapon. Dean could now see the man clearly. Like his children, he had pale skin that was sun kissed, but where his children had light brown hair, his was a much darker shade, and sparsely flecked with grey. His deep green eyes judged Dean while they sat. He too wore a shirt and trousers that were dishevelled from use. Dean noted a small scar that cut across the man’s stubbled jaw. There was a pregnant pause as the man contemplated his words. “I appreciate what you did for my young’ns,” the man began. “Yous coulda just ran off and left ‘em to that thing. But you didn’t. For that you have my undy’n respect,” his hands clenching and unclenching as he spoke. “But I need you to be Gond honest wi’ me.”
The intimidating man’s presence seemed to loom over Dean as he let the weight of the request grow, “yous a Cultivator?”
“Ah, a wot now?” Dean asked, confusion on his face.
“A Cultivator,” the man repeated.
“Like a farmer?” Dean asked again. “Am not really from arounds here, but I wouldnaw mind if I could work tha lan-“
“No. No. A Cultivator!” the man says exasperated, “like one a’ them ascend’nts from the Storm shrouded mount’n that been runnin’ round these parts. Are you with them people…?”
“Am rite sorry pal, but I have naw a fuckin’ clue what you’re on about,” Dean replied, frustration rising in his own voice. “I have naw a clue where I am, I have naw a clue what t’fuck is goin’ on and I really don’t have time t’ be peltered by some bloke I dunny know. No offence.”
“My apologies,” the man began again, taking a big sigh. “Think we started off on the wrong foot. I’m Jeb. Th’ boy’s Bobby, and my little girl’s Mary. I’m hunter by trade – that’s why we was all the ways out here. Normally I can make do in the wood near town but somethin’ has been driving the game away, see? Meaning I gots t’ go farther out. And after my sweet Beth passed, it’s just me and the kids, so I just take em with me if I leave town. Ain’t no one wantin’ to take someone else’s sprats in when they can hardly afford to feed em selfs, even if only fer a few days. ‘n I love ‘em madly, even if they do drive me mad half the time,” the man opened to Dean, overwhelming him with the complete change in character.
“Steady on, pal. That’s a lot to take in at once,” Dean spoke as the man seemed to finish. “Yous can call me Dean, and I… woke up a few days ago in the middle of bloody nowhere, and like I said, I have naw a clue about where I am or what’s goin’ on. I appreciate yer help keepin’ me alive. So, I say we’re even. he finished, sticking out his good arm, hand extended. Jeb shook it with a smile.
“Nice t’ meechya Dean. I really am sorry for earlier, and about the cultivator thang,” Jeb said, scratching the back of his head in an awkward plea. “It’s best for us regular folks to not get involved with them of we can help it. Can get awful dangerous if you do. It’s like a whole other world.”