The moment I snapped the Mystery Box in two, the stick vanished in a puff of white smoke that quickly dissipated into the air.
[Opening Mystery Box (Common)]
[Generating percentile: 72 - Common]
[Result:]
[Fine Cloak]
[A non-magical cloak made of fine fabrics. It is lightweight, comfortable and robust. There are pockets in the inner lining and a hood. This one comes in black with a purple trim.]
I raised an eyebrow at the process. It really was pure luck—well, I wasn’t about to complain. While a pair of shoes or a shiny new weapon might have been better, this was undoubtedly useful. There was also the phrase ‘non-magical’ in the description to think about. Did that suggest that there was magical equipment? Maybe at the higher rarities?
My thoughts were interrupted as the cloak appeared out of thin air, neatly folded, and fell to my side. I’m not too proud to admit I flinched.
“I don’t see myself ever getting used to that…” I muttered, and reached down to take the item into my hands. It was… soft. The inner lining was sort of fluffy, while the outside fabric was sleek and smooth. Even as a noble, I had never owned a cloak this nice. I stood up and pulled it on. The size was perfect, and I secured the clasp at the front to hold it closed. The cloak was snug on my shoulders, but not constricting, as if it were tailored just for me. I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about that—though I supposed it was just another instance of the System knowing things it shouldn’t.
Adorned in my new cloak, I was more or less ready. The rest of the things I needed to do could be done while I moved, so I grabbed my rusted knife and wiped it clean on my dress—sure, I could have taken one of my family’s weapons, or a pair of their shoes, or armour from father or the guards, but it felt… wrong. I didn’t even have time to bury them, the least I could do is leave them their belongings.
I took a deep breath to centre myself at that thought. Leaving… it was harder than I thought it was going to be—to accept that the life I had known until now was well and truly over. A part of me was still desperately clinging to that past, still hoping I’d wake up in my bed as if nothing had happened. I didn't need to pinch myself—the stinging sensation on my cheek was a constant reminder that this wasn't a dream. The pain also served as both catalyst and reminder for my newfound hatred of goblins.
It wasn’t difficult to figure out where the mercenaries had gone. This was the only path for miles—they wouldn't abandon it, which gave them a total of two directions to choose from. They also took the two horses that were drawing the carriage, adding to the clarity of their chosen path. That path was the one that went back in the direction we had been heading—the direction of the City of Mooncrest.
I willed myself not to look back at the carriage as I left. Part of me wondered if I should have pulled Derek and Father inside and set the whole thing alight, but I decided that leaving them as they were would paint their legacy more than anything else I could do for them. Mother’s readiness to face her fate unflinching. Father’s honour and protective spirit. Derek’s reckless bravery. I would remember them, and they would live on in me, but if anyone else found them, I hoped at least a fraction of who they would be could be conveyed through how they died.
I tightened my grip on my dagger, and opened my Status Screen as a distraction. I needed to level up anyway.
[Status Screen]
[Spire User: Belladonna]
[Name: Fable en Ryvaesen]
[Race: Human]
[Gender: Female]
[Age: 17]
[Level: 2]
[Experience: 2/10]
[Class: None (Requirement: Level 10)]
[General Skills: (Available Slots: 0)]
[Noble Elegance - Lv. 1]
[Herbalism - Lv. 1]
[Stats: (Available Points: 3)]
[Strength: 8]
[Grace: 13]
[Endurance: 9]
[Resolve: 11]
[Acuity: 10]
[Intellect: 12]
[Presence: 10]
“Three points every level?” I asked, slightly incredulously—at that rate it wouldn’t take long at all to quickly surpass what was humanly possible, though that was assuming someone with twenty strength punched twice as hard as someone with ten. Did stat points represent your body’s capability, or were they a multiplier of what you already had? Fuck… every time I learnt something about the system, another question was waiting to reveal itself.
I focused my energy on considering what would be best to put my points into. My first instinct was to put more points into Grace, as that was what had kept me alive in my fight with the goblin. Being quick was really all I had going for me in a confrontation—but that was assuming that whatever I was fighting knew I was there. Grace could also help me be quiet and avoid detection, though all of that was skipping a vital step. I had to catch the mercenaries before I would be at any risk of a fight, and they had horses. I wasn’t going to beat them with speed, so I would have to beat them with Endurance.
I put all three points into it.
[Stats: (Available Points: 0)]
[Strength: 8]
[Grace: 13]
[Endurance: 12]
[Resolve: 11]
[Acuity: 10]
[Intellect: 12]
[Presence: 10]
The difference was immediate. I could feel the moment it changed. The fatigue of my earlier fight was still there, but muted. The stinging on my cheek was no less noticeable, but it was more tolerable. This was the effect of effectively boosting Endurance by three points? I guess it did bring the stat from one of my weakest to one of my strongest, but it was starting to dawn on me just how extreme the difference between myself and a non-awakened person could potentially become.
But I was far from worrying about that yet—the thought sobered my high just a little. I was still very much inferior in combat to someone who had any kind of practice or experience, which meant I had to win before it ever got to a real fight.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
I diverged slightly from the path, walking parallel to it just inside the treeline while I scanned the grass. [Noble Elegance] thankfully helped to ease the burden of navigating the wilds without footwear, letting me tread with a feather-light step. It didn’t take long until I found what I was looking for—herbs. Specifically, medicinal herbs.
The first plant I found that I recognised from my books was one whose leaves had the ability to help with swelling. As I leant down to pick a couple of the leaves, though, I felt a subtle… nudge was probably the best word for it, slightly altering where I was going to break the stem of the leaf. Was that [Herbalism]? I decided to trust it for now, putting the leaves away in one of the pockets of my cloak.
I continued in this way for a while, slowly collecting herbs with various properties. Roots to help with stomach problems. Another bunch of leaves that could be used to treat open wounds in order to make infection less likely. Some flowers that, when brewed into a tea, helped soothe sore throats. Half a dozen others with small effects that would help me survive the trip back to civilization. I admit, I didn’t remember the names of most of them, just their pictures and uses. I think one of them was called wood sorrel? They were all useful—I even made use of some of them to treat the gouged lines on my face. First, I found a large, flat rock. Then I found a smaller one that would fit in my hand. Between the two, I ground the leaves meant to reduce infection risk, as well as the ones to help with swelling. I added some oily grass that helped get it to a better consistency, almost like a paste. Applying it made me wince a little, as the wound was still quite tender, but it was a necessary pain.
That said, all of that paled when compared to the greatest finds of my detour. First, a Mandragora. The root of this plant was a pale, carrot-like thing that forked about half way down and twisted around itself. It was also exceedingly poisonous. I had dug it up with my knife, and cut a strip of cloth from the hem of my dress to wrap it in so I didn’t need to touch it.
My other find was just as poisonous, if not more so, but was all the more auspicious for being the plant I had named myself after—Belladonna. Children were oft told not to eat the purple-black berries, but they weren't the most deadly part of the plant. The leaves and roots were much more lethal. I dug this one up with the dagger as well, albeit with a great deal of caution. I think [Herbalism] helped me extract the roots without poisoning myself, which was definitely a function I appreciated in my skills. I separated the roots from the rest of the plant, and wrapped them up next to my Mandragora root.
Satisfied with my expanded list options to deal with problems, I focused more on covering distance. The sun was slowly getting lower in the sky, the pencils of light that pierced the canopy becoming more angular. It was like an hourglass, counting away the minutes until the mercenaries were no longer increasing the distance between us, and instead it would be me closing in on them.
Fate, as it so often did, had other plans for me, though. Whilst watching the sunlight dance as it filtered through the leaves, I heard a rustle of grass behind me, and turned just in time to see a large black blur of fangs and claws flying through the air toward me. The sound I heard must have been the creature launching itself at me.
No time to think, I dropped myself to the ground. I could feel [Noble Elegance] heightening the fluidity of my movement beyond what was normally possible for me, allowing me to bend myself out of the way, but it wasn’t enough to escape harm entirely. Razor-sharp fangs tore into my left shoulder as the creature, almost as big as I was, passed overhead.
“Fuck!” I hissed aloud, watching the creature land and pivot in the same smooth motion while I scrambled to get back to my feet, “This cloak is new, asshole!”
The taunting helped distract me from the acute pain singing through my body, from the warmth of my blood dripping down my arm. I think the cloak had managed to stop its teeth from penetrating too deeply, leaving me with gouges in my shoulder instead of missing a chunk of my flesh.
I finally got a good look at the creature. I had expected a wolf to be staring back at me, but this creature looked like someone had decided a wolf wasn’t big enough, and needed more teeth. Honestly, I would have preferred a wolf. I hadn’t heard it approach me at all, and for the first time, regretted not taking [Danger Sense]. I shivered at the thought of how close I had been to death.
The creature standing before me was all sharp edges and muscle coated in fur. A sleek death machine that had eyes only for me—a warg. It was strange to see one alone. In all the stories they'd been in, they were kept and bred by goblins to be war-beasts and mounts. Never had I read about someone facing a solitary warg—why? Was it not a feat worth mentioning?
[Generating time-sensitive mission for user Belladonna.]
[Teeth and Trouble]
[Avoid the pointy end.]
[Mission Objective:]
[□ Survive]
[Time Remaining: 5:00]
[Mission Rewards:]
[5 x Experience]
[Mystery Box (Common)]
[Mission Bonus Objective:]
[□ Kill Warg 0/1]
[Bonus Rewards:]
[10 x Experience]
[Mystery Box (Uncommon)]
“Great, the System has a fucking sense of humour.” I sighed.
My foe didn’t give me time to consider much more, already moving on me with a snarl on its lips. It didn’t lunge as it had the first time, this time instead closing the distance first. Its whole body rippled with coiled power, threatening to burst forth like a snapped bowstring if I made a single misstep. I moved as quickly as my body would allow, [Noble Elegance] working overtime to keep me on my feet despite the fact I wasn’t looking where I was going. My eyes were locked onto the warg’s, even as I maneuvered to put trees between us wherever I could. All the while it stalked after me unerringly. I desperately tried to think of a plan, something that could upset the balance. I didn’t know if my poisons would work on a non-humanoid, so I ruled those out. A warg was built to kill—I was very much not built for anything impressive, except, perhaps, disappointing people. It was a disparity in purpose I would have to remedy. Then it hit me—what I currently had going for me was that I looked weak.
My foot got caught on a root and I stumbled, starting to fall backwards—the warg leapt to punish my mistake.
But it wasn't a mistake. It was a trap, and the warg had been lured successfully. Once it had leapt for me, it was locked in its trajectory. Now I could punish its mistake. I set my foot behind me and launched myself forward underneath the warg, the blade in my hand flashing out to cut into the flesh of the beast’s hindleg. I heard it howl in pain as I rolled, using my good shoulder to pop up into a kneeling position facing the warg, thinking I was ready.
I wasn’t. The creature had shown me once before that it could turn around at a speed that I couldn’t hope to match, and it had done so again. The moment I set my eyes on it again, I was already facing a wall of teeth. I barely had enough time to get my left arm up between me and it. The warg hit me hard, knocking me flat on my back hard enough that the air left my lungs and my vision blurred for a moment. My arm was stuck in its jaw, canines tearing through skin and muscle. The pain was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I screamed in agony, but even through the haze of pain, I wasn’t resigned to being a warg’s chew-toy. My free arm drove the knife up into the beast over and over, sinking down to the hilt each time. I didn’t care what I hit—lungs, heart, throat, anything to get it off me, to make this pain end.
Honestly? I hadn’t expected that to work. I wasn’t thinking at all, acting on pure instinct to survive. To kill instead of be killed, but with every thrust of my knife into the creature, the malicious light in its eyes dimmed just a little more. I couldn't fathom why it didn't just let go. Did it not see me as a threat until it was too late? Could it feel pain? Or was it a being of such cruelty that another creature’s pain and suffering was more important than its own wellbeing.
Whatever the reason, the creature’s grip on my arm loosened and it slumped down on top of me, dead.
[You have slain: Warg x 1]
[Awarded 4 Experience]
[■ Kill Warg 1/1]
[Bonus Objective: COMPLETE]
Fantastic. Now the only problem was that it weighed… way too fucking much, and I was stuck beneath it. Well, to say that was the only problem was a lie. My left forearm was utterly shredded, and my shoulder wasn’t faring much better. At least my injured arm wasn’t stuck under an assload of warg. I held it gingerly above my head as I tried to wriggle free, to little avail.
In the meantime, the timer slowly ticked down to zero. The System feigned ignorance of my plight, even though I suspected it very much knew better.
[Mission Objective:]
[■ Survive]
[Mission: COMPLETE]
[Distributing Rewards…]
[Awarded 15 Experience]
[Level up! You have reached Level 3]
[Skill up! [Noble Elegance] has reached Level 2]
That was… a lot of windows. To top it all off, a pair of Mystery Box sticks fell to the forest floor next to my head, one white and one green.
I had some stat points from my level, presumably a more powerful [Noble Elegance]—though I knew absolutely nothing about what levelling a skill did, so I wasn't certain—and two mystery boxes of varying rarity.
Hopefully, that was enough tools to bail me out of warg jail.