The conversation between the brigadiers and chosen had continued for a while, everyone sitting around the campfire as they talked amongst themselves. It was an intriguing conversation, both sides learning a lot.

At least the ones who were listening that was. Caleb had long since fallen silent, lost in his own thoughts.

He’d been thinking about everything. What the trial really was, why this place was like this and more. The ideas that swirled around in his head were many, vastly different shapes, weights and sizes. He was struggling so desperately to put them into order, to organise them in line with his theory, but more and more it was making less sense.

This world was real.

He was sure of it as much as he was sure of the tumour growing in his lungs. Well, almost. A small seed of doubt still remained in the back of his mind, but he was so certain now.

Given what Reinhard had told them, the lack of magical weight the magic “star” in his chest shared with the villagers, the magic “stars” within the brigadiers, and what everything else probably meant, his doubt felt a lot closer to irrational than it had before. At this point it didn’t warrant that much attention.

The problem now, wasn’t whether the world was real or not, but rather the scale of everything happening.

On that end, it probably would’ve served for him to listen to the other’s conversation. But he felt safer in the comfort of his own mind, in a place where his thoughts couldn’t be challenged or shared.

And as he thought, parsed over his thoughts, considering all the things he’d seen, heard, or been told, it became clearer to him that whatever was happening was far greater than he’d first considered. The reverence everyone showed magic, and these arbiters, gods even, that seemed to have such power and reach across the universe.

He should’ve realised before.

Of course, any entity that could just do interstellar teleportation, and accidentally teleport twenty million instead of two halfway across the universe, then send eighteen million back at the drop of a hat wasn’t something he could even begin to understand. On top of all the portals, all the records, all the messages they’d had to give or make?

He shook his head. The tutorial had started on multiple planets. They’d been speaking and watching people on multiple planets. They were probably still watching him now. He thought about all the small things he’d picked up about the Endagon, wondered if the way he’d interpreted what they’d said had led him to this point.

But no, it’d been right in front of him there too.

He frowned. How had his circumstance and biases led him to such a strange idea, such belief in a theory in the span of only a few days. Especially when he’d barely known anything.

Did a part of me not want to believe in any of this? he thought. Was I just in denial?

Maybe.

He glanced to the night sky, the stars reflected in his eyes. The planet with the Endagon, the desert planet – if it was even one – was out there somewhere. In the vastness of space and stars above him. People like here and back on Earth, yet so different.

He didn’t know what to make of it anymore. He didn’t know what to make of any of it.

The people there and here had shared only two things in common. They both had an absolute veneration for magic and they both looked like humans, even if there were some small differences.

Their terminology for magic had been the same way. Blessings and records. Gods and Arbiters. Deities and demigods.

The similarities were close, very close, but they were – ultimately – different.

What else is there? he thought, thinking about his interactions.

On this planet it seemed like the magic had been lost a lot more recently. They seemed to know more, and people had magic – even if it was only a few. He frowned. Losing magic. They hadn’t exactly just lost it, it’d been taken away from them. The great sever Reinhard had called it. The gods taking back what they’d given.

But why?

Was that why they were so scared to offend them? So purposefully respectful? He frowned. The arbiters had taken the records from the people of the world, but somehow, they’d still kept their powers.

He didn’t understand it. The people in front of him had magic, but the more he looked at it, it was ever so slightly different to his.

They’d said their magic had come from their bloodlines, so that meant magic was inheritable? But how? He only had magic because of his record. Or did he?

[Caleb Martin Souza]

Lv 3

Title: Mindful Watcher

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Primary skill: Mana Soul Core

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Trait: Mana awareness

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Speed – 1.18

Strength – 1.15

Stamina – 2.04

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Constitution – 0.62

Mana - 8

Finesse – 1.12

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Free stat points: 0

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[Alert: The beholder is currently suffering from Cancer, grade 7.]

He blinked in surprise, staring at his record, before quickly waving it away.

He thought of the stats, the title and the skill frowning. Did he just have the skill now? If the record was taken from him, would he still be able to use it? What about the stat points? Would he always be this strong? He furrowed his brow harder.

What was “1” even supposed to be in terms of anyway?

He could remember the absolute euphoria he’d felt when he’d put the stat points into strength and speed, but it hadn’t been the same with mana. That’d been slightly different though. It’d claimed he’d awoken the points because of his skill. Just because of his skill?

He frowned harder, as if the act could dismiss his confusion.

On his record, his stamina stat had changed slightly. His constitution too, and he hadn’t touched either of them. So, was the record simply a reflection of his capability within a certain field? A record of it? That seemed a bit too on the nose, but he couldn’t exactly think of anything else.

He frowned. There had to be so much he was missing.

The problem was, he couldn’t get concrete answers to all these questions.

But what if I could?

He paused. What had it said during the transition in the in between space? Something about answers to questions being located in the record?

Uh… hi there, he thought. what exactly do my stats show?

[Strength – Reflects the beholder’s physical power and durability]

[Stamina – Reflects the beholder’s endurance]

[Speed – Reflects the user’s speed of reflex, and movement]

[Finesse – Reflects the user’s accuracy and control of movement]

[Mana – Reflects the amount of fundament energy at the user’s disposal]

[Constitution – Reflects the user’s quality of physical and magical bodies]

“Oh” he muttered, staring at the messages in front of him. He hadn’t expected it to be that easy.

Uh… and what are the numbers in terms of? he thought.

[All stat quantities are graded in terms of a singular unit of mana. This is not to imply that singular units of mana are divisible, but rather that the scores, based on guidelines provided by the systems, are accurate predictions of what equivalents would be]

What a lengthy explanation. I guess this thing can be wordy when it wants to be.

He took a moment to consider.

What exactly is a stat point?

[One unit of fundament energy]

Ok. Interesting. How exactly does adding a stat point change me?

This time, he didn’t get a response. He frowned, rethinking the question, but again, no response was given.

Uh… what is fundament energy and how does it change me?

Still no response. He furrowed his brow. The abrupt stop in information gave him pause.

He didn’t know the record wasn’t telling him because he wasn’t supposed to know, or if he just didn’t understand what the term “fundament energy” meant. But then wouldn’t his record tell him he was asking a nonsensical question?

Caleb shook his head. That was besides the point.

So, if the stats were reflections of his capability, and he could just change that by throwing in stat points then what exactly did the record do to him? Was this fundament energy something that could just change a person’s ability. Why? And how?

He hadn’t really thought about it before, but just being able to just improve his strength at the flick of a switch was beyond incredible. Plus, his numbers had been really low to start with. Adding “1” was a lot. What would five look like? Ten? Twenty? Fifty? A hundred?

How high could the numbers go? Was there even a limit to this thing?

His eyes widened.

The obvious answer was yes. But what if it wasn’t?

He was only just starting, with one added point in strength and speed and he could already run faster than any person back on Earth had. Maybe even twice as fast. What about someone who’d been killing monsters and levelling up for years. How strong could they be?

His hands began to tremble and he quickly stuffed them under his thighs, his palms scratching against the coarse dirt.

This Akashic Federation thing suddenly seemed a lot scarier. He couldn’t even imagine the scale of it, but the lengths codes given to planets was more than enough to get a rough idea. The amount of insanely strong people out there was probably in the millions, if not billions.

He couldn’t imagine living in a world, no universe, as dangerous as that. With fearful eyes, he looked to the stars, once again.

His side began to throb dully again, a sickening reminder.

I guess it’ll only be dangerous if I make it there, he thought. I’ve got a lot more pressing things to worry about than the future right now.

He glanced up at the others, his eyes landing on Roeca as she looked around, somewhat pleased.

[Is there anything else you wish to know?]

“You’ve told us pretty much everything”

“Wait, what about the cultists?” Layla asked.

[What about them?]

“I mean I know you said they’re bad, but what exactly these cultists are doing?” she said.

[We said] Roeca replied. [They’re trying to summon a great calamity]

“But what exactly is a great calamity? It’s not exactly a specific term” Ryan asked. Roeca and Reinhard glanced to each other then back at the group.

[I don’t understand. Cut said you fought a few lesser ones back outside the town] Reinhard said. [Am I mistaken?]

[You mean monsters?] Eriana asked.

[Monsters?] they said confused.

“Yeah?” Sierra said confused. The Brigadiers shared another confused look, then glanced back to each other.

“Oh” Caleb said suddenly. “I think there’s a translation error. I think calamities and monsters mean the same thing”

[So, we’re going to fight a powerful beast or animal?] Eriana said.

[Not fight it] Roeca said. [We’d lose. We’re trying to make sure they don’t summon it]

“How?”

[We’re not sure yet, but we know they’re searching for long forgotten magical relics from the Old age. Once they’ve gathered them they’ll summon it]

[And why’re they doing this?]

[They believe if they summon it, it’ll force the gods to intervene and they’ll be able to convince them to reforge their connection to us. A noble endeavour but misguided] Roeca said.

[I guess in a way they were right. Though not in the expected manner] Reinhard said, looking over to the chosen.

[I guess] Roeca added. The group all went silent.

Caleb wiped his dirt covered palms against his trouser legs as he glanced around at the group. He could tell from their expressions, everyone else knew what stopping the cultists implied now. It meant killing people.

Sure, they might be doing evil, but it felt different to killing monsters. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the situation now.

[It's night-time, so are we leaving soon?] Eriana said, a note of impatience in her voice.

[We’ll leave, but not yet] Reinhard said. [Give Cut some more rest first. I’ll keep watch. The rest of you can return sleep for an hour if you wish]