Dante let loose a huge sigh of relief as that imposing woman left the tent and realized he was soaked in sweat. It had taken all he had just to breathe. There had been this awful presence that had grown stronger the closer she moved to him. It was the same feeling that one gets when they are in a place of history: imperious and demanding of respect. It had made him feel very small, which was not helped given that he had woken up wearing no clothes. When she had been standing in front of him, Dante felt like he would do anything if she ordered it.
A small mercy then that he had not understood anything she said or any speech at all in this land.
He was not the only one who felt that way, he was sure. The looks that the other wounded had given her … like a god had descended from above. He had to admit, the whole persona with the gleaming light and the ethereal flames was deserving of such awe. The way that she had been dressed was quite peculiar as well. The golden chest piece, bracers, and greaves had looked practical enough if ornate. A look that was entirely thrown off by a long segmented skirt and sleeves that wouldn’t look out of place in a ballroom. When paired with that large bladed fan that she had used to hide her face, it was quite fantastical.
There was also that black emblem she wore of a pair of eyes with an additional third eye on the forehead. It had been impossible to miss as it had been everywhere on her regalia. On the chest armor, the guard of her sword, and on the fan. It gave him the impression of being watched constantly.
Which begged the question, who was she? She seemed important. Why had she been so interested in him?
The only thing that came to mind was that he was now a human-shaped magnet. Dante brushed at the last few sand grains that were currently hovering above his lap and they pushed aside before his hand even touched them. Why else would that one soldier have thrown that sand at him? It was either that or pocket sand was a greeting here.
Dante didn’t have much confidence in the second one.
Is this power really that notable? Dante idly waved his hand across his sheets and watched as the folds of the blanket writhed beneath his hands. Then, he lowered a stationary hand towards the cot and watched as a faint oversized handprint depressed the sheets. He could be wrong, especially since that damned [Status] was no help, but he thought that [Warding Flesh] was the likely culprit. Best he could tell, it seemed to push things away from him once it reached a certain distance away from his skin. Which seemed good on the face of it. There was just one problem.
Dante picked up a small pebble from the blankets that he had been messing with earlier. He was careful to approach it from above so it didn’t move out of his reach like the last few attempts. Then, he positioned it about a foot above his open palm and released it. It fell like expected until it was about two inches from his palm. It was nearly imperceptible, but the pebble did slow a fraction before landing on his hand with a faint plop.
Yep, still can’t even stop a pebble.
The skill was level 4 and it couldn’t even do that. Dante hoped that it got better at higher levels because currently, he couldn’t see this being helpful ever. At least it’s more visible than some of my other abilities. I still have no idea if [Sharpen Senses] or [Split Second Reactions] are helping. As for [Cameoline] … it’s not much better.
Despite his thoughts, Dante felt a small grin play across his features as he continued to mess with the sheets. He had done it! He was using actual magic. Even if it was weak, it was his. It was surreal, a dream come true. This was just his second day here, who knew what wonders he would witness once he left this accursed battlefield? It wasn’t even the only miracle that he had witnessed tonight.
Dante inspected his bandaged arm and lifted a patch to look at the skin beneath. Flawless pink and healthy skin greet his eyes, to his relief. Before, it had been raw, yellowed, and bloody but still a far sight from what he had expected given the injuries he remembered. Whatever treatment he had received while unconscious was miraculous enough, but the healing flames had put it to shame. They had wiped all of his remaining injuries away with a feeling like a warm hug. Looking around, he saw healers unwinding other bandages to a similar effect. That woman had healed hundreds by the look of it and she hadn’t looked even slightly strained.
I wonder if I will ever be that strong.
There was a yawning void within him that hungered for that power. Dante longed to reach that level with every fiber of his being. To be able to decide his fate with impunity. To be free. To go home.
To never die again.
Dante marinated in that feeling momentarily before sighing wistfully and opening his [Status].
Name: Dante Embry
Race: Human
Class: Unclassed
Level: 2
Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+]
Endurance 14 (17) [+]
Charisma 6 [+]
Fortitude 15 [+]
Cognition 13 [+]
Perception 9 [+]
Constitution 15 [+]
Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 Willpower 14 [+]
Skills
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Brawl (Common)
2 Deception (Common)
1 Lock Picking (Uncommon)
4 Logic (Rare)
4 Menial Labor (Common)
3 Sleight of Hand (Uncommon)
1 Stealth (Uncommon)
2
Abilities
Chameleon (Rare)
2 Sharpen Senses (Uncommon)
3 Split Second Reaction (Rare)
3 Warding Flesh (Unique)
4
Traits
Fickle Fate (Unique)
MAX Human Tenacity (Racial)
4
When Dante woke up from his slumber, he was bombarded with messages that informed him that he had progressed in every ability. He had leveled up for the first time! Which, as far as he could tell, had only given him more stat points. Annoyingly, the [Status] still refused to tell him how many. Which was frustrating given how much he had risked for them.
Dante began unwinding the blood-stained bandages from his arms and ran one finger over his unblemished skin. Just a short while ago, he had been in crippling pain from near full-body burns. And I was one of the lucky ones. He glanced over at his neighbor, who was missing her right arm. The powers of the healing flames seemed to have their limits.
How many times have I nearly died in the last day?
At least twice, by his count. Far too many. Things had already spiraled out of his control. Dante needed to leave this literal war front and go as far away as possible. Then, he could figure things out in relative safety.
Which brought him to his current problem. Dante glanced over at the nearest doctor, who was a short distance away and was boiling bandages. Almost like she had eyes on the back of her head, the doctor gazed up from her task and met his gaze. Yep, they still had their eye on him.
When he had first awoken he had tried to leave the tent and another doctor had been on him before he had even finished rising. That was when he found out a few things. The first was that the doctor had been stronger than her slim frame foretold. Very strong. It had been child’s play for her to force him back down to his cot.
Then, she had scolded him in that strange language they spoke. At least, he thought it was a scolding as he couldn’t understand a single word of it. It sounded alien to his ears, but there were a lot of sounds that he associated with English in it. Regardless, it seemed like he was stuck here until he was allowed to leave. Which stung.
It seems like here, more than on Earth, power was what mattered. It’s just more literal here. If I was just stronger, then I could have forced my way past the doctor … Though the rest of the camp would be a greater challenge. Dante scowled. It was the principle of it that mattered anyway. Which reminded him …
Just what am I going to spend the new attribute points on?
It was different from when Dante was in the void. He was relatively safe now and had some sense of the situation, though his future remained uncertain. He might as well experiment a little and get some sense of what the attributes did. Alternatively, he could wait until someone could teach him. However, not speaking the local tongue was a huge barrier to that.
Dante had no idea how long it would take to learn. Weeks, months, or maybe even a year? There was no guarantee that anyone would tell him either. Nope, it’s better to confirm it for myself.
So which one should he test first? He was likely going to put at least a point in all the attributes eventually so that he wouldn’t be too unbalanced. The attribute that first came to mind was strength. It would be simple to see if he got any stronger. Besides, being physically stronger was something that all men wanted, him included. He poked one finger at his visible ribs. Especially me.
Dante had never had the time to workout in the past. Or the diet, protein was expensive. Dante stiffened as a thought struck him, one that could change everything.
Wait just a minute … can’t I just increase strength normally?
No matter how hard he tried, he could never have superhuman strength like that doctor. It should be a simple matter to get to the same level as a normal person. Or perhaps he could get superhuman strength just by working out, it was a new world. Who knew what was possible? For that matter, it seemed like this should also be true for at least endurance and probably dexterity.
Until I figure this out, I probably shouldn’t increase any of those attributes.
So he should probably experiment on something that definitely could be increased naturally … like fortitude. It wasn’t like you could train your body to be harder to hurt. Besides, he could always use more fortitude in his current situation.
Now the only question is how do I tell what fortitude affects?
Before Dante could think much more about it, a shadow fell over him and he looked up to see a soldier looming over him. ‘Loom’ might have been an insufficient word after second thought, towered would have been more fitting. Dante was not tall by any measure, but he would barely reach this man’s navel. Furthermore, he looked like a bodybuilder who was taking way too many steroids. A feature only highlighted by the fact that the man wasn’t wearing a shirt. It was so absurd that he doubted that the soldier was entirely human.
While Dante was gawking at him, the giant threw a bundle of something near his feet. Looking down, he saw that they were a change of clothes. He sorted through them to reveal a shirt that was baggy around the sleeves and pants that flared so sharply around the ankles that they resembled a segmented skirt more than anything. Both were an ugly dark brown color that he was quite familiar with. From the looks of it, this appeared to be the same uniform that everyone except the healers was wearing.
“Ah, thanks?” Dante said, taking the clothes and holding them to his bare chest. A few awkward beats passed where they stared at each other and he added, “Was there something else?”
The giant growled, a deep sound that sounded more akin to a lion than anything, and Dante flinched. “Paunuh mea rep'ulī,” said the man. Then, he pointed at the clothes and then again at Dante.
“I am sorry, I don’t know what you are saying.” Dante hoped that something in his tone would get through to the man. He only received another growl for his efforts and the giant stepped towards him and yanked the shirt out of his hands. It was only after the giant tried to pull the shirt over his head that Dante finally got what he wanted.
“Stopstopstop! Powa me repoolee!” Dante threw up his hands and something in his tone must have translated as the giant paused.
“I understand! See?” Dante pulled what he thought was meant to be underwear, though it was longer than he was used to, under his blankets and pulled them on. Then, he held up his hands to show they were empty. The giant grumbled, a sound like grinding boulders, and relinquished the shirt back to him.
Dante hurriedly dressed in the unknown clothes, fumbling for a moment when he realized that they didn’t have any buttons or zippers. Everything was meant to be tied and he didn’t know any knots. It didn’t help that the giant maintained a vigil at the foot of his bed while giving him a side-eye.
The instant that he was finished, the giant barked some more incomprehensible words at him. When Dante gave him a blank stare, the man pointed at him and then to the ground in front of the bed. This time Dante hastened to follow his orders, having no desire to be manhandled again.
“You don’t have to be so rude,” Dante grumbled as the giant began walking towards the tent's exit then looked over his shoulder at him. Once he ensured that Dante was following him, he led Dante out of the tent.