My eyes blinked rapidly, struggling against the onslaught of harsh fluorescent light that flooded the room. Gradually, the luminosity relented, allowing me to regain my bearings. A sharp ache throbbed at the base of my skull, a persistent reminder of whatever ordeal had landed me in this unfamiliar place. Tentatively, I reached up, fingertips grazing the tender spot, and winced at the discomfort.
My gaze drifted to my arm, where the telltale presence of an intravenous needle protruded from my skin. The transparent tubing snaked its way to a bag filled with a pale, translucent liquid—electrolytes, I presumed, judging by the sterile hospital environment. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the needle was fashioned from the same peculiar black material that constituted the floor of the colosseum, triggering a distant memory of that monumental structure. Summoning what strength I could muster, I maneuvered myself into a sitting position on the sterile hospital bed, the crisp white sheets rustling beneath me. Glancing towards the nearby desk, my gaze fell upon a vibrant array of flowers, their delicate petals casting a splash of color against the sterile backdrop of the room. With a determined tug, I removed the IV from my arm, granting me the freedom to explore my surroundings.
Approaching the collection of blooms, I found myself recognizing a few familiar species: the graceful lilies, the cheerful sunflowers, and the elegant tulips. Yet, amidst this natural splendor, my attention was drawn to a cluster of cards, each bearing heartfelt messages of support and well-wishes. Fingers trembling slightly, I selected the nearest one—a soft pink card—and unfolded it with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Inside, delicate script adorned the page, delivering a message. "To the hero who saved daddy, get well" it read, leaving me to ponder the identity of the father whose life I apparently had intervened to rescue.
My mind raced as I pieced together the fragmented memories. The Gifted Tournament—of course! The frenzied crowd, the adrenaline-fueled rush of competition, it all flooded back with startling clarity. All those spectators who ran.. it must be one of their kids.
Surveying my surroundings once more, I took note of the sparse furnishings—a solitary chair, an unoccupied nurse's desk—before my gaze fell upon my own attire, or lack thereof. Clad only in my underwear and a flimsy hospital gown. Pushing aside the discomfort, however, I reminded myself of the task at hand.
System, upgrade my stats and attain the skills that I most want!
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Book Level: 4
Name: Oren Hashigana
Health: 8600 (+4600 Max)
Strength: 450
Speed: 470
Defense: 11%
Soul: 400 (+150 Max)
Skills:
Lvl. 2 Skill Combination
Lvl. 3 Lazarus
Lvl. 1 Hard Slam
Lvl. 1 Strength Booster
Lvl. 1 Speed Booster
Lvl. 1 Triple Strike
Lvl. 1 Cross-Arm Guard
Lvl. 1 Critical Hit
Lvl. 2 Danger Sense
Lvl. 1 Sledgehammer
Lvl. 1 Rage
Lvl. 1 Stealing Skills
Lvl. 2 Guaranteed Dodge
Lvl. 2 Peeking
Lvl. 2 Sword Power
Lvl. 1 Passive Healing
Lvl. 3 Roulette
(+) Lvl. 3 Solomonic Adaptability
Lvl. ??? Infinite Growth Limit (Passive) - No growth limit.
Points: 38
Shop:
Stats: 90p
Lvl. 3 Protection - For each person you are actively protecting in a fight, gain much higher defense and strength. 0 soul to use, one week cooldown. 3000p
Lvl. 1 Nullify - Nullify one ailment or status. 20 soul to use, one week cooldown. 1000p
Lvl. 3 Weapon Mastery - Any weapon that you pick up is able to hurt Gifted. Consequently, you are able to use it at an expert's level. 50 soul every minute of use, one day cooldown. 6000p
Upgrade Book: 50000p
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As I focused on the upgrade process, my mind raced through the strategic decisions I had made prior to this moment. Health—undoubtedly a priority, given the rigors of the Gifted Tournament and the battles that awaited me beyond. I allocated some more points to bolster my health, ensuring that I could endure the trials ahead with greater fortitude than before. But it wasn't just my physical well-being that demanded attention; my soul, too, required nurturing. Drawing upon the hard-learned lessons of past encounters, I made the conscious decision to significantly augment my soul's potency, recognizing my reserves. I keep running out, so increasing it would be good.
Yet, I couldn't afford to overlook the importance of adaptability in the face of ever-changing challenges. With a decisive resolve, I invested in the acquisition of Solomonic Adaptability, a formidable trait that promised to enhance my versatility and strategic prowess on the battlefield. With each upgrade meticulously chosen, I was happy with my choices. And though a lingering sense of regret gnawed at the edges of my consciousness for failing to uncover the hidden item, I took solace in the knowledge that I had secured the Covenant Shard—an invaluable artifact that would undoubtedly prove instrumental in the trials to come.
With a commanding gesture, I extended my open hand, beckoning forth the object of my desire. In response, a soft luminescence enveloped the space before me, coalescing into a miniature vessel that gently descended into my waiting palm—the Ark, a symbol of preservation and resilience, reminiscent of the legendary vessel Noah once sailed. As I inspected the diminutive craft, a question formed in my mind, prompting me to seek understanding of its purpose and potential. What does it do?
Before me materialized a spectral projection—a board, not adorned with the familiar trappings of a quest, but instead displaying a detailed description of the Covenant Shard. With a furrowed brow, I studied the information presented.
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Item: Covenant Shard
Description: A rare relic which design reflects the ancient Ark. The shard has a divine effect. The effect upgrades a skill then removes the cooldown. One time use, cooldown of skill is removed for a day.
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Strength and Speed Booster had proven their worth time and again, their efficacy undeniable. Yet, the prospect of channeling the Shard's power into an offensive skill, transforming it into a formidable weapon, tantalized my imagination. This artifact would remain dormant until the direst of circumstances demanded its activation. In that critical moment, I would unleash its potent effect, infusing it with an attack skill—a last resort, reserved only for the most perilous of encounters.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Gripping the Covenant Shard tightly in my hand, I steeled myself for the challenges that lay ahead. With a swift motion, I cast the artifact and the book aside, watching as they dissolved into nothingness, leaving me once more alone in the quiet solitude of the hospital room. In that moment of solitude, I reaffirmed my commitment to mastering my newfound abilities, knowing that when the time came, the power of the Covenant Shard would serve as my ultimate safeguard against the encroaching shadows of adversity.
I soon heard a knock on the door. An unexpected visitor's arrival sent a jolt of apprehension coursing through my veins. His voice, resonant and commanding, pierced the stillness of the room, catching me off guard, "Ah, you have regained consciousness. That was unexpected." How did he know I was awake? The closed door provided a barrier against prying eyes, yet his presence loomed ominously on the other side.
Instinctively, I shifted into a defensive stance, muscles coiling as I prepared to confront him. My eyes narrowed as the door swung open, revealing the figure of an elderly man, his weathered features softened by a disarming smile. Clad in a regal gray samurai robe, he was tall and elegant, a lethal sword hanging casually at his side.
One of Kayuga's relatives? The thought flickered through my mind, only to be dismissed as the stranger addressed me by name, "Relax, Oren-san, it's not time yet." he reassured me, though his cryptic statement only served to deepen my unease. Not time yet? Time for what? Lowering my arms cautiously, I regarded the old man with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. "Who are you, old man?" I demanded, my tone aggressive. His smile widened at my question, though his eyes gleamed with a hidden intensity. "Merely a man seeking acquaintance with defeat." he replied cryptically.
"Have you heard of the Zeus Hypothesis?" he asked, his voice genuine. I shook my head in response. Undeterred, he continued, his tone measured yet impassioned. "It suggests that no matter the prowess a human attains, they could never aspire to rival the might of 'Zeus', A.K.A. God." Is this.. "This concept strikes me as folly," he declared, his voice brimming with conviction. "allow me to assure you, should God indeed exist, I would exceed Him in the art of swordsmanship." What pseudo-intellectual nonsense.
I launched myself forward, muscles coiled with the explosive force of my attack. The old man's eyes tracked my movement, his stance unwavering as I closed the distance between us. My fist, propelled by the full force of my enhanced strength, arced towards him in a diagonal strike aimed at his torso. Yet, in a display of remarkable agility, he countered with deceptive swiftness. With a deft movement of his left hand, he formed a spear hand, intercepting my punch and redirecting its trajectory around his shoulder, causing it to miss its mark by mere inches.
As my arm extended past him, leaving me momentarily vulnerable, I was in danger. With his right hand raised, I felt the unmistakable aura of impending danger—the intent of death radiating from his very being. Bastard!
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Soul: 380 (-20)
Skills:
Lvl. 1 Speed Booster - Increase your speed by 150% for three seconds. 20 soul to use, one minute cooldown. (Activated) The one minute cooldown has commenced.
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My body dodged, barely evading his strike. I wouldn't have been able to do that without the skill. So that's Solomonic Adaptability.. Enough monologuing! I shifted my gaze back to the old man, tightening my fist as I prepared to unleash a devastating strike. With all my speed, I launched a horizontal hammer fist aimed squarely for his neck, intent on delivering a blow that would leave him reeling.
The impact was swift and fierce, sending a cloud of dust billowing into the air as my fist connected with its target. Yet, to my astonishment, before the dust even had a chance to settle, I found myself ensnared in the old man's unyielding grasp. His hand held my fist firmly in place, a testament to his unparalleled reflexes and unwavering resolve. "Indeed, Oren-san." he remarked coolly, his voice cutting through the silence that followed the failed attack. "Your speed is commendable, yet you lack the strength required to overcome me."
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Soul: 360 (-20)
Skills:
Lvl. 1 Strength Booster - Increase your speed by 150% for three seconds. 20 soul to use, one minute cooldown. (Activated) The one minute cooldown has commenced.
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Feeling the weight of the old man's gaze bearing down on me, I retreated, tearing away his grip. His relentless pursuit left me with no choice but to step back. As he closed in, his intent clear, I readied myself for the inevitable collision. With a calculated move, he lunged forward, aiming to tackle me to the ground. Good, that's what I wanted.
With a swift, almost imperceptible motion, I leaped into the air, evading his grasp with effortless grace. As I soared above him, a surge of electricity surged through me, charging my fists. I channeled that energy into a devastating technique—the 700 stat Triple Strike. Take it!!
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Soul: 350 (-10)
Skills:
Lvl. 1 Triple Strike - Attack three times in succession with enhanced speed and strength. 10 soul to use, thirty second cooldown. (Activated) The thirty second cooldown has commenced.
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As my fist surged forward, aimed with precision at his eye, the old man reacted swiftly, raising his forearm to intercept the blow. His defensive maneuver was executed flawlessly, the swell of his forearm testament to the force of impact. Yet, to my frustration, his eye remained unscathed, his unwavering focus unbroken.
Undeterred, I pressed on, launching another punch, this time targeting his chest with all the force I could muster. The impact was visceral, the sound of breaking ribs echoing through the air as my fist made contact. For a fleeting moment, I felt a surge of satisfaction at the sight of his pained expression—a testament to the effectiveness of my strike. But there was no time to revel in the momentary victory. With a swift spin, I unleashed my final blow. Yet, as my fist collided with his cross-arm guard, a wave of frustration washed over me. He put up a cross-arm guard! Though my knuckle found its mark, inflicting further damage to his already injured forearm, it was not enough to break through.
Before I could react, a sudden, searing pain erupted in my chest, the force of his kick lifting me off the ground with brutal force. As I soared through the air, the taste of blood filled my mouth. With a grimace, I struggled to regain my composure, the pain radiating through my chest. I fought to steady myself while he backflipped to the door.
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Health: 8000 (-600)
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He stood up, barely worse for wear. "My apologies, Oren-san. I have gravely underestimated your skill. It was presumptuous to assume I, a swordsman, could match fists with a martial artist of your caliber. I shall take this lesson to heart." He doesn't know any martial arts? His talent is insane! But before I could dwell on it further, he reached for his sword with the intent of death. I felt the dread surge within me at the sight, knowing all too well the lethal potential of that weapon in his hands. Driven by desperation, I lunged forward, my right arm outstretched in a desperate attempt to thwart his actions. But before I could intervene, the shrill sound of an alarm pierced the air, freezing us both in our tracks. A fire?
The sudden interruption brought a momentary reprieve from the looming threat of violence, redirecting our attention to the imminent danger that now loomed on the horizon. For a fleeting moment, the urgency of the situation overshadowed our confrontation, casting a pall of uncertainty over the unfolding events. With a resigned sigh, the old man withdrew his sword and sheathed it with measured precision, his demeanor shifting to one of contemplation. "So soon?" he muttered, his tone tinged with regret. "I have abandoned my training for this moment? Very well."
Turning his back to me, he faced the hallway, his gaze fixed on some unseen scenery. In a voice that sounded somewhat sad, he outlined his goals, "Endure this attempt on your life, Oren-san. Should you emerge victorious, seek me, the Representative of Division, out at the top of Ute Mountain. Perhaps there, you shall grant me the battle I seek." With those words, he walked away, his departure completely silent.
I'll see you there, Division.