Lucas was somewhat concerned with the System message, but it was better than fighting with his bare hands. He brought up his class, and then his unlocked menus.

Whisperblade Arbiter (Unique) [Tier 1]

One of the Goddess's Hands that has taken judgement into their own grasp. How many of the guilty will die by your Razor, Ruinmarked?

+3 Magic, +2 Physical Stats, +2 Perception, +2 Will per Level.

      Skills Small Blades Level 1 [Tier 1] Sneak Level 1 [Tier 1] Silence Level 1 [Tier 1] See Truth Level 1 [Tier 1] Judgement Level 1 [Tier 1] Sight Level 1 [Tier 1] Gateway Level 1 [Tier 1] Dark Murmurs Level 1 [Tier 1]

          Equipment Executioner's Razor (Unique) [Growth]

Skipping the skills that were obvious, he opened the menus of [Silence], [See Truth], [Judgement], [Sight], [Gateway], and [Dark Murmurs].

Silence [Tier 1] (Passive/Active): All sounds produced by the user are reduced by (LVLx5)%. The user can steal the voice of a target in a radius of (LVLx2) meters for (LVLx10) seconds.

See Truth [Tier 1] (Passive): Sentences are made of words, threads you can see. Judge liars harshly, Ruinmarked, for it is through truth we pursue perfection.

Judgement [Tier 1] (Active): Spill the blood of the guilty. Revel in Bloodshed, Ruinmarked!

Sight [Tier 1] (Active): Channel the stolen Spark of the False God to See the Ether and its denizens.

Gateway [Tier 1] (Active): Create a portal between two locations the user has previously visited within (LVLx100) meters.

Dark Murmurs [Tier 1] (Passive): Whispers follow the user, alerting them of danger.

While he had noticed it before, the skills had the most blaring evidence. Ruinmarked menus directly addressed him, while the normal ones were normally divorced from the person they were communing with. What was the purpose of the Equipment menu, though? Presumably, someone could just check the item itself whenever they encountered it instead of having a dedicated list for the purpose of listing the items on their person.

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

Lucas shook his head. He knew basically nothing about this new reality. Maybe he was missing something. He checked his stats once again, and it seemed the class was retroactive, which was somewhat useful, depending on how much stats actually augmented his physical and... spiritual(?) capabilities.

With nothing else to do, he looked to the corpses of the Scorched Mutts, wondering if there was any type of crystal in them, like the books. An idle thought wormed its way into his head, but it was torn away before he could ponder any more. His Razor came down on the first one, tearing great gashes out of the Mutt in a more macabre parody of an autopsy. The flesh carried the sickly-sweet stench of rot already, and he could already see the organs decaying.

Wait. There!

He could practically feel the mana wafting off of the corpse, dissipating into the air. Was it what kept the hound together?

With the time to think, some vague far-off part of him was horrified at the idea that someone's life was only supported by some ephemeral magic-goo, but it was shut out quickly. He saw a fleck of red in one of the eye sockets and forced it open to look at a ruby. Was this whatever mana didn't dissipate back into the air?

His fingers dug into the Mutt's skull and yanked it out. He could feel the impotent anger and roiling hate from the gem, and his lips quirked into a grin. Was that just the theme of this place? Everything here seemed to radiate evil.

He stopped on the fourth one, surprised that there wasn't any gem. Instead, the pelt sloughed off completely whole and perfectly preserved. Was this loot? He draped it over his shoulders, but it made him ungainly not being tailored to his frame. Lucas bunched it up into a crude sack and placed the three gems inside of it before clamping the 'top' shut with a hand. He set out in a random direction since there were no landmarks. It seemed that it was an endless sea of Ruinglass and pillars, though he could catch a glimpse of blue in the far, far distance if he strained to look.

The day passed quickly, the landscape seeming static because of its frustrating sameness. No moon rose in the sky, but the sun vanished beyond the horizon. Without any options for shelter, and seeing the pillars were only a meter or so in diameter, he planted his back to one and fell into a half-sleep, disturbed by any whistling breeze.

Night passed uneventfully, Lucas waking up feeling strangely rested from such a fitful sleep. He also didn't have any of the aches and pains he would've expected from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position. Was this the benefit of high stats? It definitely seemed high, if he started with most around ten or so without the added from his [Traits].

He set out again, walking in the same direction hoping that the island ended. Either he was covering no distance, or the island was massive. The same sliver of blue appeared in his vision, but still the same distance away. He turned back, and faintly saw stains on the floor from where the Mutts dissolved into mana.

"Fuck!"

The word tore from his mouth unexpectedly, a culmination of all his frustration from his seeming lack of progress. It was because he hadn't made any. Now that he was alert, he triggered [Sight], feeling a weak drain hooking into the center of his chest, and he could see the strands of mana that impeded his path. They were thickest around the borders, presumably leading away from the island. Without any way to break them, he resigned himself to walking toward the place without any.

A while (two hours? He lost track of time in this sameness) into his walk, he heard growls. A seed of joy bloomed in his heart. Something to distract from the trek, and he could finally vent. As a bonus, he had new skills to use on them.

Lucas dropped the makeshift sack, and darted towards the source of the sound, Razor brandished.