After putting some distance between the valley and himself Alan stopped and took out the identifier. He was sure at least some of what he had chosen would be fun, and he couldn’t wait to confirm that. The rings were a sure pick in his mind almost whenever he was offered a choice. The effects they provided could be of all sorts, while a sword had a singular purpose and didn’t serve him quite as well unless, of course, it was something broken.

He doubted any of the recent loot was that good, but one never knew. Improving his attacking strength was a must. However, relying on items for that would be a mistake. Items were fallible, unlike skills. He needed to figure things out on his own, and then move on to boosting that.

What interested him most was the strange piece of cloth. It was difficult to say what the embroidery depicted in its state, but he had some of Mr. Muge’s cleansing charms. They were his constant companions and one of the reasons he was always thinking of the older man’s future. The more resources he gave Mr. Muge, the surer Alan would be that he would eventually reap some benefits. He also quite liked the guy's single-mindedness. No scheming, no plots.

As far as I know so far. Alan thought, then shook his head in shame. Doubting everyone was a bad way to spend time and live life. Risks were necessary to form relationships. The shadows whispered in a brief burst of anger, as if disagreeing but he paid them no mind. The voices were wrong this time around.

He pointed the piece of bronze-encased glass toward the cloth.

[Ritual Cloth of Sacrificial Commune]

A surprise. Alan wasn’t sure it was a welcome one. He had expected a strange effect but this was essentially another headache. Commune with what? He could speak with the dead; he was living in the land of the spirits – at least he had a home there. He had shadows of a long-gone race constantly whispering in his mind, and a sleeping demon in his inventory. Dragon blood coursed through his veins.

What else was there to commune with?

And sacrificial at that… Sacrificing was getting tiring. Even when it was someone else’s vitality, his mind briefly wondered about Cole. The man was probably on his last legs. Alan decided to not kill him like this. It was not his way.

Ah, damn it. That’s what I get. Who knows, it might prove worth my while.

The cleansing charm worked its magic and the dust, grime, and blood stains flowed off the cloth, leaving behind grey embroidered with red and black glyphs and thorny flowers with skull elements for decoration. The flowers were strange and looked almost sinister, but that was to be expected considering the overall theme.

The silvery ring with the dark flat stone was next. He cleansed it first, but its appearance didn’t change that much. Apparently, it was made to carry a certain sense of ancientness.

[Ring of Mana Focus]

Alan clicked his tongue. Getting the names was good, but he needed proper descriptions. Mr. Muge’s item was not quite what he was looking for when it came to identification. The [Ring of Mana Focus] sounded great, but what exactly did ‘mana focus’ mean? His staff helped a bit with mana regeneration, perhaps it was something similar with an additional benefit. A bit of a letdown but more mana was always great. That would explain how the item had such a high concentration of mana too.

He put it on without hesitation on the middle finger of his right hand. The effect was instant. He could feel his mana flowing just a bit better, and his regeneration pick up. It was a small thing, barely enough to make a difference, but it was something. It cost him nothing to wear the fancy ring. The item would’ve served him very well in the early days when his mana pool had not been so deep.

The effect was great and Alan found himself smiling. Like a miniature version of Amir’s buff.

The other small ring was all that was left – a steel band without any ornaments.

[Ring of Awareness]

Oh? That was interesting. He put it on the ring finger and instantly felt the world feel a bit more in focus. It was a subtle change, but he noticed the grooves on the tunnel walls better, while that didn’t distract him from the soft echoing of falling dust or distant steps coming from the darkness.

Being more aware was always a welcome thing, but it was also somewhat dangerous. If he ever lost the ring, then he would need much more time to get used to its absence, than it would take him to stop noticing the improvement now. He didn’t think it was that dire though. The change was not that dramatic.

Overall, it was a decent haul.

Alan decided to test the cloth at a later date. Perhaps it would allow him to find Ashlyn, or contact Zirida? Who knew how that thing worked?

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

He continued down the tunnels that were already clear while straying far away from the side of Jay and his teammates. Finding a remote alcove in the rock was not that hard and Alan sat down for a rest. Shadows encased him, making him one with the darkness. They would serve as a shield if anything came close while he was meditating on his situation, and as a bit of camouflage too.

He closed his eyes and once again focused on the flow of his mana throughout his body. Amir’s buff had given him inspiration, and he wanted to make use of it while waiting for the group to leave. The rings were helping too.

It took him only a few seconds to fully concentrate on his inner workings, and it felt somewhat better than other times. Perhaps the [Ring of Awareness] was better than he had given it credit for as well. It was like the two rings had been specifically waiting for him to aid him in what he wanted to do.

Mana was his life and he sensed it everywhere inside of himself, but just like before, he also saw the other forces intertwined in it. Most of his mana seemed affected by his constitution, and as it entered through the world and into his pool, it took on a slightly darker affinity. Shadow mana was his main source of strength. Of course, mana changed as needed but in its dormant state, it took the form most suitable to him. Strangely, despite everything there was no void to be found in his mana pool. He had expected them to share the space.

Rather, it was in his blood – a thin thread carried by his strangely named bloodline. He didn’t like the name much, but it was given by the System and it hardly mattered. The void was a familiar thing that gave a feeling of emptiness and space. Like a hollow wire running through each of his veins and even spreading toward his nervous system. Barely so. There was mana in his blood too, but they didn’t cross paths nor did they intertwine.

Why were they separated, if his unique bloodline had combined the two, though? And what was the relationship between the void element and the space element he had sensed? His shadow inventory was similar to the void – a space he could fill up as much as he wished. It hadn’t been limitless before, but somewhere along the way things had changed.

He opened his eyes and forced some mana out of his fingertips. It was not difficult to change its ‘element’ or what it represented. At first, it was a dark shadowy smoke one could see through. Then, as he focused on the sensation and understanding of the void he had, it changed. It became invisible and space twisted a bit, as if there was some conflict.

The void was not the antithesis of mana, but it destroyed what it touched, or tried to. It was almost like the relationship of fire to water.

Then, what was emptiness? He didn’t have an insight into the void. He had insight into emptiness. The void was still something he could put to use, be it because of the dragon’s blood or his time spent in it. It was less intuitive than the shadows. He understood it less.

He also didn’t understand his own life in that way. The mana supporting him was mostly ambient, coming from the world around him. Like air.

Attributeless mana helped his lungs function and supported the very integrity of his life, while his vitality sat at zero. Empty. And there were shadows under his skin and a void in his veins. Both these were a part of him, and yet it felt like holding a coin and trying to make its two sides touch despite it being impossible.

What gave him life was just the mana of the world and it seemed to be a part of it just as much as Alan was a part of it. Perhaps if he were to return to the void he would make use of his reserves to keep himself alive. But then again, he could make use of the void around himself due to his bloodline, couldn’t he?

Was death from mana deprivation even an option then?

What were shadow and void leading to? Death? They were sinister representations of magic. Dark and somewhat ominous.

The flow of mana inside him was like millions of tiny streams coursing in different directions, intertwining, crossing, and disappearing into one another. A system too difficult to trace to the current him. He could sense the places where it was slower and give it a nudge by introducing some of the mana under his will. It was all his – the process was akin to using a paddle to push water.

The moment he channeled [Shadow Creation] the flow changed. It took less than a heartbeat’s time for all the pathways to change into shadows as they poured out. Alan canceled the skill, and once again, the mana became like a slow stream coursing through its natural paths.

This is harder than I thought.

What he saw as blockages wasn’t there when he used the shadow skill, but it hadn’t been as smooth as when he had cast it under the influence of Amir’s buff.

Alan decided to try something different and nudged the strings of void in his blood, trying to introduce them to the rest of his body. He focused on his left ring finger and did just that.

He instantly knew it was a mistake.

As one of the threads unraveled, he sensed a sense of doom permeate his being. It was not [Mortal Peril] but something very different.

His finger – the place where he had tried to introduce the void to the rest of his body suddenly started bleeding as if poked full of holes. It bled shadows, blood, and pure mana. Alan sensed the void eat away at the flesh as if he hadn’t spent weeks using it in his attacks.

He had it in his bones as well… and they were the only thing left unaffected. It was moments later when his finger was just white bone. What the fuck? This is not the void acting up. There is something wrong. My bones are enchanted and strong, and my blood is that of the Void Dragon. My skin and my mind are of the shadows. And my flesh… just flesh.

Alan had the skill to remedy that, and he had neglected it. Was it that obvious? Were the skills he was getting part of a whole that was aiming to turn him into something more? Yet another path, or an amalgamation of the steps he had already taken?

He opened his eyes and focused on healing his finger. The mana worked its wonder, but he knew the process would be slow. Still, his flesh would grow back in time. There were no nerves there, so there was no pain, but the finger was also unusable.

Thankfully, the process had stopped at that. Without delving further into what he had just realized, Alan rushed back toward the valley. He had a clear way of getting stronger or at the very least much more dangerous. Performing the unknown ritual in the Dungeon was out of the question though.

And it was not interference from the monsters that worried him.