With his skills tested to a satisfactory level, he began to move closer to Atlas's center. He wasn't sure how far the kill of the Greenwood dear would bring him, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. Hoping that he wasn't moving away from the core and that his sense of direction wasn’t completely wonky, he moved in the same direction—before the deer interrupted him.
He decided to take his time and take a more stealthy approach to finding prey. He spotted some unique aspects of the forest that he hadn’t noticed in his mad dash. The first thing was that not all the trees were, well, the same type. Some looked like redwoods, and some looked like oaks. Occasionally, he'd come across a lone pine tree. The next thing that he noticed was the birds. The birds were massive. It was hard to give an exact amount, but he guessed that they were two or three times bigger than they ought to be.
He hoped that the alien birds wouldn't attack him. After all, he had no way of dealing with them; he only had a sword. Sure, if they came down for a peck, he might be able to land a hit or two, but he wouldn't look forward to that match. To avoid that outcome, he continued to silently creep through the forest.
After around 5 minutes of looking around like a cat hunting for a mouse, he heard a snap. He had made several loud noises; after all, he was no stealth specialist, but this one, surprisingly, wasn't from him. Looking around, he saw a bushy tail darting into the undergrowth. Rushing after it, he pushed through the brush, hoping it didn't have any thorns. But instead of getting pricked by thorns, he suddenly found himself whacked in the face by a branch. He pushed forward, escaping from the face hitter, and spotted a raccoon. The raccoon looked mostly normal. The only difference was that the black fur was replaced with vibrant emerald-green tufts.
The raccoon turned its head and gave him an adorable expression. Its eyes transmitted pity, urging Emmanuel not to kill it. The pitiful gaze worked on him for around 2 seconds before he promptly drew his sword and impaled the beast.
*Ding*
You have defeated a level 2 Greenwood raccoon
you have gained XP.
After removing the poor thing from his blade, he felt a little bit sorry. It was, after all, really cute, and he just went up and killed it. On top of that, he didn't gain a level from it, which was the thing he was most frustrated about. But, on the other hand, the system did say that the more he accomplished, the further he would be teleported. Making peace with his conscience, he continued his hunt for more juicy experiences. Around 45 minutes later—and three Greenwood raccoons, two Greenwood squirrels, and a Greenwood rabbit—he finally got the notification he was waiting for.
*Ding*
You have reached level 2. Your stats have been increased, you have 2 status points to allocate.
Go forth and grow fast and let your strength be a testament to your resolve.
Seeing that his points were already allocated, he decided to bring his perception up to 10, and then at the next level he would bring up his wisdom. Something about the double digits just made something in his gut feel happy.
Name: Emmanuel Agerico
Level: 2 G
Class: Warrior
Stats
Strength: 16
Constitution: 14
Dexterity: 14
Agility: 11
Perception: 10
Wisdom: 8
Intelligence: 11
Unassigned attribute points : 0
skills none
Class Skills:
Splitting strike:
Rank novice 3
The Gift of Gab:
Rank universal
Throughout the last hour, he hadn't used a single splitting strike. As a result, around 40 minutes into his hunt, his headache had completely vanished. He felt refreshed. Instinctively, he knew he was completely topped up with Mana. With the validation of the level, he decided to keep hunting.
Time slipped by as the sun rose to its zenith. He felt like it had been four or maybe even five hours since he started hunting, but with no frame of reference, he couldn’t be entirely certain. He cut down a lot of little critters. The raccoons were the most plentiful, followed by the rabbits, and then the squirrels. The rarest beastie he had come across so far was a massive bat.
*Ding*
You have defeated a level 3 Greenwood fruit bat, and you have gained XP.
The thing was surprisingly, the highest level he’d run into except for the deer. He was growing bored of these low-level beasts; even the fruit bat wasn't much of a challenge. He hadn't had to use a splitting strike once to finish off any of the beasts. Considering the ease with which he slew them he wasn't surprised he hadn't gained a level. But that same gut feeling told him he was close. He trusted his gut; it had helped him use the splitting strike for the first time. Surely one or two more kills would do it. Then, at long last, he would be level three. So he kept pushing forward.
Before too long, he came across his next opponent. This time, unlike all the others, he hesitated before he jumped into the fight. Standing before him was a massive wolf. Miraculously, it didn't smell or notice him. Then again, considering its nose was fully buried in the carcass of a Greenwood deer half the size of the monster of a buck he had fought earlier, it made somewhat more sense that the wolf remained oblivious to Emmanuel's presence.
The wolf beyond being was also much bigger than its earthly counterparts and was also visually different. With fur like silver in the moonlight and teeth the size of daggers, the wolf stood at a height of almost two meters and its impressive length was over 4 meters. So it wasn't particularly shocking that the wolf was able to take down such a large deer. The thing that confused him, however, was that wolves were usually pack hunters, yet this one seemed entirely alone.
He waffled on his decision to fight it. He wondered if he really could, first of all, beat this thing, and, second of all if its mates would then just show up and kick his ass. Taking a deep breath in, he repeated the words his grandfather spoke to him so many years ago: “Without risk, there's no reward.” Exhaling, he focused on his blade. He poured every drop of Mana he could into it.
Seven seconds later the blade refused to take any more Mana. The blade’s edge was completely blue and an aura of blue mist surrounded it. The wolf hadn't moved from its meal, so he charged. Reaching the wolf in seconds, he swung his blade toward its neck hoping to finish it in one blow. Unfortunately for him, the wolf had some sort of precognition and was able to move its head just enough to make the blow not instantly fatal. Quickly leaping backward, Emmanuel knew that the wolf would die. There was no conceivable way that with the amount of blood, it was shedding, it would live long. The problem was that it was still living.
The wolf quickly made its living presence known. With a lunging counterattack, the wolf sunk his teeth into Emmanuel’s left arm and began to pull. Typically, tearing off a human arm is quite challenging, especially considering all the bones, muscles, ligaments, and armor protecting said arm. But that wasn't the case for this enormous wolf. With seemingly effortless ease and grace, the wolf pulled and Emmanuel’s left arm was just gone. Beyond a stub roughly 10cm long protruding from his shoulder, there was nothing. The world seemed to hold its breath. He made eye contact with the wolf. Then his arm started gushing blood. Acting quickly, he ran and for some reason, the wolf didn't chase him.
Ducking behind a tree he sheathed his sword. Then he quickly pulled off his tie. It took him a couple of seconds to get it off. It was a lot harder when you're in excruciating pain and down a hand to take off a tie, but he managed it. Then he wrapped the tie around his bicep -- or what was left of it. Holding the makeshift tourniquet in place with his teeth, he used his functioning arm to tighten it. Blood continued to pour from his missing arm, but at a much slower rate. Where the exodus of blood before could have been a river, it was now more of a calm stream. It was still a lot of blood but slightly better. The wound would still kill him if he didn’t do something.
But restricting the blood flow would keep him alive for a little while, at least. He decided that he would if he was going to die. That he would at least take the wolf with him. Thankfully the wolf took his left arm and, like most people, he was right-handed. So he could still use his sword. He drew his blade and imbued it with the maximum amount of Mana. Then he moved around the tree seeing the wolf still standing there. Looking into the wolf's eyes Emmanuel saw his own resolve reflected back at him. With an understanding that only two predators can share, they both charged at one another. He realized he was probably fucked. The ease with which the wolf tore off his arm showed how much force was contained within its body.
The wolf moved so fast that Emmanuel could barely even see it move. Before he knew it, the wolf was upon him. Somehow, he instinctively knew how to dodge. He couldn’t possibly see the wolf moving toward him; it was too fast. In fact, given Emmanuel's low perception, it almost looked like the wolf had teleported before him. Yet somehow, he did the impossible and moved. The wolf lunged in eagerness, hoping to tear his face off. As a result of his eagerness, the wolf made a mistake. Or at least present Emmanuel with an opening. With a swish of his remaining arm, his blade cut into the wolf's side. Luckily, this time he knew to get out of the way quicker, his missing arm an ever-present reminder of the wolf's reaction time. The wolf, however, seemed unbothered by the wound.
The wolf almost instantly appeared before him again. This time, however, it had its guard up. As a result, there were no openings to exploit. The wolf continued to pressure him. He realized if he didn't do anything soon he would run out of energy. Unfortunately, the wolf seemed to not even be scratching the surface of its energy reserves. In fact, the longer the fight went on, the faster the wolf became. The bleeding from the wolf's wounded slowed down. Perhaps his initial assessment that the neck wound would kill the beast was incorrect.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Nonetheless, he still had to somehow find a way out alive. Hoping he could survive the wolf’s onslaught for a few seconds, he reached down into his pool of remaining energy and channeled it into his blade. He channeled for one second, then two, then three. Unfortunately channeling a splitting strike took a not insignificant amount of focus. And, as a result, the wolf was able to tear a good chunk out of his side. Luckily this time it seemed like the armor did its job and at least slowed down the wolf. Instead of taking a head's worth of flesh, it only took an amount roughly the size of a child's hand. But still, that wound hurt like a mother fucker. And broke his focus. Thanks to the lapse in his focus, the sword would not take any more mana. But lucky for him, the skill didn't dissipate.
He swung his sword down towards the wolf's flank. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t the only one who could dodge. The wolf with seemingly 10 times the grace dodged Emmanuel’s “mighty blow.” As a result, the energy around his blade fizzled out.
Reaching for his skill one more time, he realized he was desert dry. He thought he had more in the tank but those strikes at the beginning and the one that scored the wolf’s side must have taken more out of him than he thought. Without any mana, he doubted he could make a decisive blow and with the wolf’s power of regeneration, he doubted that he could whittle it down. Realizing the fight was over, he prayed to whatever God-like entity would listen.
“Okay, I know I did some shitty things in my life, but in the grand scheme of things robbing rich people of their livelihoods and getting paid for it by others isn't all that bad. It's not like I went on mass murder sprees like some people.”
Nobody heard his prayer. No one was coming to save him and he was spent, exhausted from the fight, out of Mana, and mentally defeated. The wolf, seeming to smell his defeat, let out a long, prideful howl. Mustering the negligible remains of his strength, Emmanuel lifted his blade with his one remaining hand and prepared to die.
“Although not exactly what I expected my death would be like, it's a good way to go out. I’m happy that at the very least I have a sword in my hands.” Taking in his last breath, he accepted his fate. And with his last iota of strength, he lifted his blade. The wolf, smelling Emmanuel’s defeat, pounced, pinning him to the ground.
Yet it didn't bite out his throat; it didn't puncture his skull and damage his brain. It didn't gouge his heart out. It didn't kill him.
And even on its canine face the expression it gave him was unmistakable. It looked at him with an expression that not even an entitled scion high out of their fucking mind could rival. It gave him an expression of condescension and superiority.
The look made Emmanuel replay the fight in his mind. The fact that he “snuck up” on a predator. That it didn’t chase him after it bit his arm off. That he was able to land blows. And at that moment he realized: it was playing with him. Toying with him and treating him like livestock was the last straw, the final nail in the coffin.
He knew he would one day die. Especially considering the strangeness all around him recently. Ever since that first hill with that deer he knew he would never stop fighting, never stop growing. But at the very least he wanted to die in combat with an opponent that respected him and his abilities. Not some oversized fucking wolf with an ego larger than an orange who thought he could run for President.
With the last dregs of his willpower, he pushed at his skill. And it responded. He felt a flood of energy and pushed harder than ever before. When he imbued the blade for the first time it was like using his hands whereas now it was as if he was pouring out the Mana with a bucket.
The sword drank in the mana like a man deprived of his cup of joe after working a 10-hour night shift and having to do it all over again the next morning. Within seconds the blade hummed. The wolf's eyes widened but it was too late. Emmanuel thrust his blade up through the wolf’s chest piercing its heart. In the end, the wolf's arrogance was its downfall. Emmanuel smiled with satisfaction. He didn't mock his opponent. After all, that would give this douchebag wolf validation. Exhaling its last breath of air the silver behemoth above him died.
*Ding*
You have defeated a level 18 Silverwood Dire Wolf and you have gained XP.
*Ding* *Ding* *Ding* *Ding* *Ding*
You have reached level 3. You have reached level 4. You have reached level 5.
You have reached level 6. You have reached level 7.
Go forth and grow fast and let your strength be a testament to your resolve.
*Ding* *Ding* *Ding* *Ding* *Ding*
Your skill, splitting strike, has reached level 4. Your skill, splitting strike, has reached level 5. Your skill, splitting strike, has reached level 6. Your skill, splitting strike, has reached level 7.
Your skill, splitting strike, has reached level 8.
*Ding*
Congratulations for completing this heroic action; you have unlocked the title system.
A tsunami of energy washed into him. The energy coursed through his veins, his muscles, his bones, his entire being. The feeling was exhilarating, like winning the lottery, like one's first kiss; yet it was so much more. It was like every positive experience, every sensation that released any form of dopamine hit him all at once. To say the feeling was addictive would be the understatement of the century.
The energy slowly left him, yet some of it lingered. He felt stronger, faster, sharper, and clearer of min He felt better in every way; he felt like a new being.
Even his missing arm felt better. Looking at the wound, he was shocked. What should have been a completely missing limb was now half an arm -- around 20cm of pink skin protruding past his tie. His elbow was back, along with an extra 3 or 4 centimeters of his arm. The arm wasn't a gushing wound anymore; it was completely sealed. He realized it must have been the levels that had fixed his arm. And is this trend continued a couple more, and his whole arm would be back. He opened his stats hoping to find some answers to his many, many questions.
Name Emmanuel Agerico
Level: 7 G
Class: Warrior
Stats
Strength: 43
Constitution: 36
Dexterity: 36
Agility: 27
Perception: 26
Wisdom: 24
Intelligence: 27
Unassigned attribute points: 10
skills none
Class Skills:
Splitting strike:
Rank novice: 8
The Gift of Gab:
Rank universal
Titles
Big Shot: Wow, really reaching for it, you slew an entity more than five levels above you in G grade. +5 to all Attributes
Mover and Shaker: Now you're throwing your weight around. You killed an entity more than 15 levels above you In G grade. +10 to all attributes
System Heretic: Attempting to bridge a rank is usually only done once one has reached the peak of the rank. While accompanied by a backup. Only true prodigies, and those truly blessed with luck, can do so alone and under-leveled. As a result of this truly masterful achievement, you will receive: +5% to all attribute points
He was shocked by the increase in his stats. All of them had at least doubled since the last time he reviewed them and he still had 10 more attribute points to assign. He also questioned the number representing his strength; he felt significantly stronger than 43 strength. If 10 was the baseline, then according to his stats he would be 4.3 times an average person's strength. Yet he felt far stronger than that. He tested his hypothesis by grabbing his sword. He didn't imbue it with any Mana, not least because he was still all out. But he was able to carve through one of the trees in its entirety like a hot knife through butter.
His blade wasn't long enough to completely topple the tree but it still made a clean mark all the way through it. He also noticed how long the stat page was getting. Frankly, it was starting to get annoying to read it all. Finally, the last notable thing was his skill. After understanding and practicing the skill till he was dry only gave him two levels. After that, he didn't gain any levels from killing the low-level mobs. But then he killed the dire wolf and the skill experienced explosive growth. He would have expected a couple of levels -- after all, he exhausted his Mana pool and faced a greater enemy -- but five whole levels seemed extreme.
He was fairly sure he knew where he wanted to allocate his ten lose attribute points. Although all of his stats had experienced growth, the one factor that held him back in the fight was the lack of Mana. I didn't know how he knew for certain but he did know that Intelligence increased the maximum amount of Mana someone could hold, and wisdom was the regeneration rate. To hedge his bets, he brought both stats up to 30, and, with the final point, he brought his agility to 28.
A few seconds after he invested his points into his wisdom he felt a change within him. More than his intelligence, his wisdom felt stronger, much stronger, than the 30 points would indicate -- much like his strength earlier. There must be some sort of modifier once you reach a certain stat threshold but he couldn't be certain.
After a moment of just doing nothing, not thinking about where to put attribute points or what was going on with his body, he realized how exhausted he was. However, his work wasn't done. Looking over at the wolf's carcass he saw the beautiful, shimmering form of the wolf. With a sigh of resignation he listened to his inner loot goblin and began to skin the beast.
Meanwhile, far away from the flat disc of Atlas loomed an obsidian castle the size of a continent. Within one of its many Towers sat a sharply dressed man. At first glance you would think him a midget, but under further inspection, small details would pop out. His slightly oversized nose, the proportions of his face generally, and a strange smell like brewing potions. The man was a gnome; not the garden gnomes humans put in their front yards to ward things off, but a member of the renowned race known for their works of engineering and potion craft. This gnome was not a crafter, however; he was a lesser moderator in charge of the humans on Atlas.
Unfortunately, he had a problem. A big problem that needed to be reported to his boss's boss's boss. Getting up from his chair he stepped through the walls of the castle. Since the castle was so massive it took him a couple of minutes to reach his destination: a pair of mahogany doors. Engraved upon the doors were scenes of great battles and heroic feats. A man hoisting a lion above his head. That same man slaying a Hydra and cleaning stables. A man hunting a deer as fast as the wind and many other great achievements; achievements that shaped worlds.
Knocking at the door he heard the unmistakable voice of his boss. A voice deep as the rumbles of the Earth. “Come in.” Opening the doors a man stretching over 260cm tall and built like a brick house faced him. However, this man was no brute; a gleam of intelligence peeked out from behind his steely gaze.
“What is it you've come to bother me with?” the man asked.
The gnome had to be careful with his phrasing. After all, if he messed it up he would be torn limb from llimb.
“Lord Hercules, there was an issue with the containment of higher-ranked beasts on Atlas.”
“Is it fixed?” asked the mountain of a man.
“Yes, Lord, but that's not the real issue.”
“Spit it out then, I don't have all day to make small talk.”
“Yes, Lord. The problem is a small pack of Silverwood Dire Wolves have escaped containment. All except for one was recaptured and put back in there zone. However, that one ran across a newly initiated human.”
“Newly initiated humans die in the billions. What’s one more life? Gnome, you better give me a good reason why you came to bother me otherwise you have wasted my time.“
“Y-y-yes, Lord. The problem is the mortal somehow managed to slay the beast, having only been at level 2 at the time and the beast at level 18.”
Hercules seemed to ponder this for a moment before giving his verdict. “Thank you for the useful information; you may expect something in your future, young gnome. You are dismissed.”
“Th-th-th-thank you, Lord.” The gnome slowly shifted out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
System administrator Hercules' interest was certainly piqued. Waving his hand, he brought up a replay of the mortal's fight. Although fights below a B grade rarely, if ever, interested him, he was surprised that even with the wolf toying with the mortal that the mortal had won. The mortal was out of Mana -- that was visible -- yet he was somehow able to use his skill again. This Individual would be someone interesting to watch, perhaps even one of the future powerhouses of the new universe.
Hercules sighed; he hated whenever a new universe was integrated. Anyone who had achieved even a minuscule amount of power in the grand scheme of things was roped into helping run the culling. It wasn't that much of a time suck, it was just bothersome. Luckily he only had another couple of months before he would finally be released to do what he pleased. At least now he had someone interesting to watch to pass the time.