Alphonse sat next to a fire he had created. The fiery flames exuded life. The room was a mess. Glass bottles lay in shattered fragments on the floor. Strange liquid seeped through the worn out tiles, down into the rock below. The smell of cooked meat spread throughout the room. It would have been a peaceful experience, if not for Alphonse’s skin eroding away. His claws raked at the floor, trying his hardest to ignore the flesh-eating pain. His high constitution was fighting the acid, or whatever that smoke was.

He was patiently waiting for the dead corpse to cook. He desperately needed a skill, or trait, something to fight off the burning of his face. Alphonse couldn’t wait anymore. Grabbing hold of a leg and ripping it from the bone, he chomped down.

[ Chef’s Kiss activated ]

Recipe: Undercooked Dust Devil

Undercooked Dust Devil: Undercooked anymore and I would seriously be concerned about it walking on its own two legs and running away.

Shut up. Alphonse gnashed his teeth together, fighting the pain.

Rating D

+20% from set bonus

| 21.4 -> 25.6 intelligence added

| 8.5 -> 10.2 wisdom added

| 6.9 -> 8.2 dexterity added

Trait extraction in progress…

Don’t bullshit me, system.

Trait extraction successful.

Trait - [ Un-common ] Poison resist: The Dust Devil has a high immunity to all forms of poison. Especially to toxic fumes of smoke.

Skill extraction in progress…

Skill extraction failed.

Immediately, Alphonse felt the pain lessen, and then stop. He let out a sigh of relief, his tense body relaxed, the hard, chilly feeling of the wall met his back.

Reaching towards his face, Alphonse could feel the blisters gradually lessen.

What am I doing all of this for? Alphonse questioned himself. He didn’t know why he wanted to fight these insane battles, but something inside of his mind, and heart, urged him to keep going forwards. Alphonse wasn’t sure if it was Gluttony warping his mind, forcing him to fight these almost suicidal battles. Or something else.

He just knew that it was fun.

Alphonse moved onto his feet with a grin. He washed the feeling of nearly dying to the edge of his brain and continued forwards.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

***

Alphonse climbed down an old set of rock stairs that had long begun crumbling away from the passage of time. His eyes peered downwards, making full use of the dark vision trait. The surroundings reminded him of any other cave he had experienced. After seeing the cone like formations dripping from the ceiling or the rocky walls that resembled bunched up sandpaper from other caves. This one one was no different.

Alphonse ignored the surroundings. It was the objects and the noise in the middle of the room that commanded all of his attention. Sprawling tables filled with an assortment of colourful bottles, like an ocean drawn out of crayons.

Like a bigger version of that room with the Dust Devil. Alphonse approached the middle of the room. His wary eyes flitted around the enormous cave. He approached a small stone bowl. Embers gently burned away, leaving a trail of smoke in the air.

There was obviously something nearby. Another Dust Devil? Alphonse thought.

The sound of something slapping against the floor entered his ears. Alphonse quickly ducked behind one of the large tables. His heart palpitated, a deep grumble protested within his stomach. It wanted him to eat.

The sight of an old man wearing a coat that he could only imagine used to be white. Brown stains were splattered all over the long coat. Alphonse wasn’t sure if it was dried blood, or something else. The old man’s hair was frazzled, like he had shoved his long, dirty fingers into a plug socket. He was giggling to himself. A gummy smile appeared within the dimly lit cavern. He was carrying a tail from some sort of animal. Without hesitation, he threw it into the still hot little stone bowl. Using a hammer, the old man smashed it into a paste and then grabbed hold of one of the many bottles on the table, splashing the strange liquid into the concoction in front of him.

Alphonse activated [ Silent Steps ], quietly approaching the old man, cleaver in hand.

“If you plan on killing me, can you wait until I’m finished?” Without turning around, a high-pitched voice exited his toothless face.

How useless is this ability if everyone can fucking sense it? Alphonse frowned.

“You’re not going to fight me?”

“I suppose I should, if you are going to interrupt my work.”

“You suppose?”

“Well, I’m not the fighting type, you see.”

“Then what the hell were those monsters back there? They seemed very interested in smashing my body into a bloody pulp.”

“Not my problem.” The old man giggled. His hands quickly moved from ingredient to ingredient.

Alphonse wasn’t sure what to make of him. He felt no killing intent, but if he let the old man finish what he was doing, he would be an idiot. When all else fails… Alphonse shrugged. Kill.

Alphonse wouldn’t risk going close. He wasn’t sure what tricks he had up his sleeve. Play it safe. He nodded to himself.

A spark magically appeared from his palm, evolving into a budding flame that danced with joy. The flame began crackling like electricity as Alphonse threw it forward, towards the back of the busy old man. Then Alphonse watched as the explosion fireball sizzled into nothing, only leaving behind a pathetic trail of black smoke.

“Do you mind?” The old man finally stopped what he was doing, his head turned around, facing the young man. “You young ones are so impatient. I’m trying to save you, you damned reprobate.”

“W-what do you mean save me?” Alphonse frowned..

The old man picked up a mirror from the table and threw it at him. Alphonse caught it in confusion. He brought it up to his face. The sight horrified him. There was something behind his Iris. Wriggling. Alphonse stumbled back.

The old man giggled. His hands stopped moving as a puff of smoke bloomed from the small, rocky bowl.