Brass squinted at the flashing bonus objective. Use your Soul Siphon ability. Right. Sure. Except…what even was that? He’d barely skimmed through the System’s finer details. It suddenly hit him—there was a separate tab for “Abilities” apart from “Skills.”
With one wary eye on the Drider, which had begun to skitter around a cluster of grotesque, red-spotted mushrooms, Brass pulled up the menu.
Abilities
•Soul Siphon: Latch onto a target’s spirit, with a small chance to permanently absorb one of its attributes, traits, skills, or abilities. On a failed attempt, absorb the target’s spirit essence to restore your own strength.
•Life Detection: Passively perceive the spirits of all living beings within a certain radius.
•Strange Adaptation: Your body can evolve, adjusting to suit new powers. You’re not confined to a single form; instead, you can alter yourself to accommodate the potential within.
Brass took a moment, absorbing the sheer weirdness of it all. Soul Siphon alone sounded incredible, if a bit ominous. It was the kind of power that might have made him a bit nervous back in his old life, but here? Here, he was more than eager to see what he could pull off with it. Life Detection was already kicking in too, that faint prickle in the air alerting him to anything alive.
His focus snapped back to the Drider just as it plucked a couple of sickly, red mushrooms and stuffed them into a rough sack slung over its shoulder. Afterward, the creature skittered back around the pond’s edge, and then…simply melted into the ground, vanishing like a shadow.
Brass tensed. If he didn’t act now, he might miss out on this quest and the rewards tied to it. Time to see what this Lycan form could really do. His muscles shifted, stretching beneath his skin as he transformed into the wolf. A thrill raced through him—the world snapped into heightened clarity, each scent sharper, each sound closer.
Taking in his wolf form, he realized he wasn’t much bigger than before. Strange, but oddly convenient; this body could probably wear armor, given the right modifications. Maybe a task for later. He smirked, amused by the idea of himself armored up like a medieval werewolf knight—though clothes first. The whole “running around naked” thing would definitely get old.
With a single bound, he cleared the pond, landing lightly at the other side, his powerful nose guiding him. There, between two massive boulders, a shadowy gap in the earth beckoned, no doubt the Drider’s entry point.
Between two massive boulders, a narrow passage into the earth beckoned. Brass dived in, moving swiftly through the tunnel, the cool, damp earth clinging to his claws and fur as his powerful limbs drove him forward.
In an instant, he burst into a vast underground cavern, the walls lined with damp roots and shadows. The Drider stood on the left, unloading its sack onto a rough wooden table scattered with strange tools and half-rotten specimens. A portal hovered ominously in the center of the room, framed by ritual candles. Behind it, a massive amethyst geode cracked open, shimmering with violet energy that fueled the portal.
Without missing a beat, Brass sprang forward, claws outstretched, catching the Drider by surprise. His claws tore into its side, dark ichor spilling out. Not giving it a chance to react, he activated Soul Siphon. He felt his spirit surge, reaching out to latch onto the Drider’s essence. There was a flicker—a memory? A flash of the creature as a mischievous fey, its spirit twisted and corrupted, leaving only this monstrous form.
[New Ability Acquired: Webways]
The notification flashed, but Brass stayed focused. Just as he was about to strike again, a blinding green flash exploded from the Drider, hurling him into the wall.
[You have taken 5 points of damage.]
His vision swam as the system’s voice piped in, sounding bemused. “Oh, doing so well, were you? Fairy fire, it stings, doesn’t it? Didn’t they teach you that?”
Brass shook off the daze, refocusing on the Drider, which had summoned another sphere of shifting light. “Do watch out,” the system added gleefully, “each color has a different effect.”
Gritting his teeth, Brass took stock. His stamina was down to 20, but his health had already regenerated to full. His werewolf form’s healing abilities were insane. Still, he knew he couldn’t stay in this form indefinitely. His gaze darted to the Drider’s fiery orb as it flared pink—whatever that meant, he didn’t want to find out. Summoning his vampire speed, he darted to the creature’s side before it could react.
With a low growl, he lunged onto its back, his jaws instinctively seeking the base of its neck. He bit down hard, snapping the spinal cord with a sickening crunch. Dark blood gushed, bitter and acrid like licorice. He spat it out, shuddering at the taste, already making a mental note to avoid tainted blood in the future. As the Drider crumpled, a system notification flashed.
[Quest: Defeat the Drider]
A dark fey creature has emerged—a Drider, twisted and bound to the will of its sinister master. With its spider-like form and shadowed magic, it poses a deadly threat.
Objective: Defeat the Drider.
Status: Complete
Bonus Objective: Use your Soul Siphon ability 1/1
Reward: 15 XP, minor increase to mana pool.
Bonus Reward: minor increase to intelligence
Brass exhaled, glancing down at the lifeless Drider. He sighed, his eyes drifting to its chest. The heart would probably be best… Grimacing, he tore open the creature’s chest cavity, finding the heart—small, twisted, but still pulsing with lingering energy. With a shrug, he bit down, feeling a rush of power spread through him.
As the system tallied his gains, he smirked, checking his full status.
STATUS
Health: 16/18 +12 (16/30)
Stamina: 35/37 +17 (35/54)
Will: 18
Speed: 25
Sanity: 100%
Soul: Smoky
Sin: 10
Divine: 4
Ki: 182
Mana: 26
Chakra: 20
Honor: N/A
EXP: 45/200
Strength: 5 +4 (9)
Constitution: 7 +4 (11)
Dexterity: 6
Wisdom: 4
Intelligence: 5
Charisma: 5
Brass’s grin widened, admiring the stat boosts. Already, the hybrid form was paying off in spades.
A sudden burst of energy exploded from the center of the cavern, throwing Brass backward as a wave of pressure washed over him. The force pressed against his ears, making them pop painfully, and he winced as bits of debris clattered down around him. The cavern walls groaned, dust trickling from overhead as if the whole space had nearly caved in.
As the air settled, Brass looked over to where the portal had been moments before. The ritual circle still lay etched into the ground, but the portal itself was gone, its shimmering energy replaced by silence. All that remained were scattered fragments of a few bowls and trinkets that had been laid out within the circle, now broken and smoldering from the portal’s violent collapse.
Not really sure what to think, he decided to check his new ability.
Webways: You have unlocked the ability to weave spatial magic that connects distant points by folding boundaries. By establishing a central web nexus cortex, you can then place smaller nexus points across various locations, creating a “webway” that allows you to enter from any shadow and exit at either the nexus cortex or one of the connected nexus points.
•Nexus Cortex: The central hub of your webway network. Required to activate the network.
•Nexus Points: Individual entry/exit points that link back to the nexus cortex. Can be placed strategically for swift travel.
•Capacity: Nexus Points 0/12, Nexus Cortex 0/1
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Brass thought, a grin spreading across his face. An ability that lets him essentially fast travel? Absolutely. He could already imagine the possibilities. Hopefully, the smaller nexus points wouldn’t be as flashy as the central Nexus Cortex, but who was he to complain? Teleportation, even with limitations, was a boss ability to snag from his first Soul Siphon.
Letting his wolf form melt away, Brass returned to his human state, glancing around the room with a fresh perspective. Honestly, the place wasn’t half bad. Sealed off from the surface, already equipped with some furnishings, and the ritual circle for the Nexus Cortex still intact—complete with the amethyst that must have powered it. It looked like a ready-made base. The only real problem was… well, the Drider corpse.
But one thing at a time. He needed clothes. He’d been running around in the buff far too long. Brass started rummaging through the room, hoping for anything that could serve as makeshift attire. Instead, he found dusty books, silverware made of actual silver—which burned like acid when he touched it (note to self: avoid silver). Just picking up a fork had dealt him a point of damage.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Among the odds and ends, he found a gold locket with the painting of a rather pretty raven-haired elf, a broken bow, some rusty swords, and what looked like ritual supplies. Jars filled with organs, vials of ash, butterfly wings, even a literal giant tongue just lying in a drawer. He cringed. Some serious cleaning was in order, but, unfortunately, he hadn’t found a single scrap of clothing. Not even a blanket, towel, or rag.
With a sigh, he sat cross-legged on a table, frustration simmering. On impulse, he opened the system interface and clicked over to his inventory. Not that he expected much, but to his surprise, he had twelve slots—and four of them had items in them.
Annoyed with himself for not checking earlier, Brass tapped the four occupied slots in his inventory, watching as they shimmered into being in front of him. The first item was a set of worn, dark leather clothes—jacket, pants, and boots—that seemed custom-fit for a hybrid. Reinforced stitching and flexible padding suggested they were meant to handle some serious wear, while the dark hue would help him blend into the shadows. Not too flashy, but practical, he was just happy not to be nude to be honest.
Next, he found a pair of obsidian-brushed bracers marked with faint glyphs. A quick touch told him they dampened sound, allowing him to move even more stealthily. Another useful find. The third item was a small, silver flask engraved with runes. When he opened it, he found it filled with a bitter, metallic-smelling liquid that gave off faint, supernatural energy. The description called it “Essence Draught,” designed to replenish his stamina and health slightly in emergencies.
Finally, he found a small ring inscribed with delicate runes—an “Aura Shroud.” The description said it would mask his hybrid energy from most magical detection, a serious plus if he wanted to keep a low profile. He slipped it on, feeling its enchantment settle around him like a subtle veil. A grin tugged at his lips. “Now we’re talking.”
With his newfound gear equipped, Brass took in his surroundings, thinking it was time to clean house. The Drider’s corpse needed to go. Taking a firm grip, he dragged it through the earthy cavern and back up to the surface. As he reached the open air, he gave the body one last heave, not thinking much about the effort.
The Drider’s body rocketed up, higher than he intended, and disappeared into the distant treeline, branches cracking as it vanished. He blinked, half-surprised, half-impressed by his own strength. “Well, guess that settles that,” he muttered with a smirk, brushing off his hands before heading back down to finish the job.
Returning to the cavern, the next thing he decided to check, was the collection of books he’d seen earlier. The majority were worn and weathered, some with spines barely holding together. But one thicker tome caught his eye, its cover embossed with a map and the bolded name, Asteria: A History. Sitting cross-legged, he cracked it open.
He read through the first pages, quickly piecing together some basic information about his new world. Asteria wasn’t just a realm; it was a massive continent divided into twelve distinct kingdoms, each tangled in a near-constant web of strife. The conflicts seemed rooted in everything from political ideologies to ancient alliances, with factions loyal to gods, dragons, or the independence of mortal creatures. Some kingdoms sought freedom from the old deities, aiming to place their faith in strength alone. Others wanted to consolidate power over Asteria for themselves, ambition eclipsing reason. Still others stood for peace and freedom, struggling to hold their own amidst the chaos.
Brass’s brow furrowed as he absorbed the tangled mess of alliances, betrayals, and skirmishes that plagued the land. Each kingdom, each faction, seemed as if it had its own dogma, all of them clashing with a fervor that had split the continent into fractured realms.
“Well,” he said, closing the book, “seems like I landed in a real utopia.” With a final glance around his makeshift lair, he started mentally listing all he’d need to make this place a true stronghold. But first, he’d have to learn more about Asteria and just what kind of powers were waiting out there in this world.
As Brass looked at the book, a strange thought hit him. “Wait a second… how can I even read this?” He frowned, looking down at the ancient script in his hands. It wasn’t exactly in any Earthly language, yet he’d skimmed through it without a hitch. He squinted up at the voyeur system.
“Uh, System? Mind explaining how I’m magically fluent in, uh, Drider-speak or whatever this is?”
The system’s response was instant, its tone slick with smugness. “Why, you’re welcome, Brass. One could say I am responsible for your newfound literacy. Your capacity to read and understand all languages present in Asteria is a humble service of mine. I am here to elevate, enlighten, and, most importantly, spare you the humiliation of fumbling through a land of strangers like an illiterate barbarian. Truly, the best gift.”
“Yeah… great. Thanks for that,” Brass muttered, rolling his eyes. “I suppose next you’ll be telling me I owe you my firstborn.”
“Oh, please,” the system quipped with a mock sigh, “don’t flatter yourself. I prefer contributions of the intellect. But yes, you may continue being grateful.”
Brass snorted and turned his focus back to his surroundings. He spotted the map he’d picked up earlier, a detailed layout of what looked like several neighboring kingdoms. Shrugging, he decided to store it. As he mentally selected the map and accessed his inventory, he felt a faint shimmer as it disappeared from his hand and then reappeared neatly in one of his empty slots.
“Neat,” he said to himself, admiring the smooth functionality. There was something almost surreal about slipping items into a space beyond his physical reach, but it felt… efficient. He could get used to this.
With the map safely stored, Brass walked over to the ritual circle left behind by the Drider. He had all the components he needed, thanks to the monster’s stockpile of ritual materials. Once he’d arranged the candles, amethysts, and other relics into the proper order, he took a deep breath and prepared to activate the Webways ability. Reaching inside himself, he felt a pulse of energy stir, flowing through him like an icy river.
As the power surged through his veins, a strange sensation filled him, like he was stretching out into the very fabric of space, his awareness expanding and then folding in on itself. For a moment, he could see pathways, invisible corridors winding through shadows and stones, the spaces connecting to his Nexus Cortex. When the connection solidified, he felt the cavern shift, almost like the very earth acknowledged his presence.
[You have earned 5 XP and the Feat: Shadow Weaver]
A system message popped up, and Brass grinned at the small boost. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
Next, it was time to fulfill the final part of the New Dawn quest. Brass glanced around the cavern, assessing the best spot to dig his own grave. With a resigned sigh, he shifted into his Lycan form, feeling his claws extend, then set to work. His claws tore through the earth easily, each swipe displacing clumps of dirt. Soon, he had a shallow but sturdy grave dug out just below his new Nexus.
Climbing down into the grave, Brass lay back, his arms crossed over his chest in what he imagined looked like a proper vampire-resting pose. He felt an odd mix of excitement and apprehension as he settled into the ground.
A faint pulse of energy wrapped around him, as if the earth itself was binding him to this place. The ritual felt ancient, instinctual, and as he closed his eyes, a deep calm settled over him, marking this space as his own.
An unknown amount of time passed and Brass opened his eyes feeling refreshed. Sitting up he saw the system flashing.
[Quest-line: A New Dawn]
You have survived your arrival in this world, but now the true test begins. To ensure your continued existence, you must establish a proper resting place for the night. As a vampire, your mortality is not easily threatened—but even the strongest must rest. Should you fall, your crypt will be your sanctuary, a place of rebirth.
Objective: Locate or create a suitable resting place (grave or coffin). Complete 1/1
Reward: 15 XP, unlock Vampire Resurrection mechanic.
Another 15xp in the bag and a new skill he wasted no time in checking out.
Vampire Resurrection: Death is but a brief inconvenience for one of the pure bloodline. With Vampire Resurrection, the vampire will rise again in the exact grave they were last laid to rest in whenever they are slain. The only way to prevent this relentless return is for an enemy to stake the vampire’s heart while they lie within their grave, sealing their resurrection until the stake is removed. True destruction of a pure-blood vampire is a near-impossible feat, for they remain bound to the cycle of life and death by ancient blood magic, defying mortality itself.
Feeling an unusual sense of calm, Brass looked around his new crypt with satisfaction. Even if he messed up so catastrophically that it killed him, he’d just wake up right back here, safe in his grave. And with his new Webways ability, he could cover any distance and be back in a flash. No matter where he roamed, this place was now his—like a hidden respawn point, solid and secure.
With that thought, he decided to head outside, in order to ensure his den was well-hidden he came up with an idea. Spotting a sizeable boulder nearby, he rolled it over the entrance to the cavern, effectively disguising the passage. Brass gave a nod of approval, then shifted forms and launched into a run, testing his speed as he surged northward. His legs pumped with supernatural strength, covering ground far faster than any human could manage.
The landscape changed around him as he traveled, the sparse forest thickening and giving way to cleared farmland. Neat rows of crops stretched across the fields, and every so often, a farmhouse rose into view—a quaint yet solid structure with timber-framed walls, pitched roofs of darkened tile, and thick chimneys puffing gentle wisps of smoke. They reminded him of something from a Renaissance painting, pastoral and sturdy, their wooden shutters and slanted roofs standing out against the rolling fields.
But Brass kept to the shadows, avoiding any contact for now. He wasn’t eager to explain his existence to any farm folk, nor did he want to risk blowing his cover so close to his respawn point.
Sticking to the tree line where he could, he continued northward, eventually picking up a dirt road leading through the farmlands. He followed it quietly, using the shadows to stay hidden, his movements silent and his senses on high alert.
Just as the first light began to grey the horizon, he spotted something ahead. A large village came into view, with a dense cluster of Renaissance-style buildings packed together and winding lanes weaving through them. Cobbled streets connected the homes and shops, each one a charming mix of timber and stone, a patchwork of gables and chimneys stretching into the early dawn.
Above the village, a barony perched on the hill—a stately manor with high walls and guarded gates, casting a watchful eye over the homes below. The village looked old but alive, the buildings warmed by lanterns that still flickered here and there from the night before. It was bustling with early morning activity, yet somehow quaint, with an aura of history and tradition that made it feel both imposing and inviting.
Brass stayed in the shadows, watching the scene unfold, curiosity piqued but instincts cautious. He’d come close enough to see, but not close enough to be seen—not yet, anyway.