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Chapter 51 - Headache

Cal rose unsteadily, his world spinning as if he'd been spun around blindfolded. A throbbing pain pulsed at his temples, a relentless drumbeat that seemed in sync with the chaos around him. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog from his vision and the disorientation clouding his mind.

Outside the dim refuge of the cave, a cacophony of screeches and the clash of combat filled the air. The battle was a whirlwind of movement and noise, a blur of shapes that gradually sharpened as Cal's senses returned. He saw Elena, covered in wounds, darting between flying bats with an agility that belied her delicate frame. Even her wounds could not hide her beauty.

The bats themselves were like large flying rodents, and with a horn on their head, it was as if they were divebombing his companions to pierce them through. Each bat was a grotesque mosaic of equine and chiropteran traits, their spiral horns gleaming like twisted moonlight as they dove and wheeled in the sky. The first stage beasts were formidable but faltering, their numbers dwindling under the relentless assault.

The cervidians fought alongside Elena.

"About time, sleeping beauty!" Elena's voice cut through the din. She loosed another arrow, its flight true as it found its mark in a bat's leathery wing, sending it spiraling down.

Cal's fingers twitched, instinctively reaching for a weapon. Instead, he clenched his fists, focusing on regaining his balance, his body still recovering from the exhaustive meditation.

With every fallen bat, the tide of the battle slowly turned, the survivors retreating with high-pitched cries of defeat. The cervidians stamped the ground, their hooves kicking up clouds of dust as they prepared to fend off any stragglers.

Cal steadied his breathing, but the headache persisted. He pushed it aside, readying to join the fight if needed.

"Cal," Temp's voice broke through, synthesized yet carrying the weight of concern, "the threats have been escalating while you were meditating."

"Stage-two beasts," Temp continued, the words clipped as if economizing on time, "are becoming more common."

Cal's gaze sharpened, the headache a dull throb against the disorientation of waking up in a battlefield. Elena's next arrow faltered, her fingers trembling from exertion; the cervidians flanked her, bodies heaving, yet unyielding. Their determination was the glue holding the fragile line together.

"Any more trios of stage-twos?" Cal's voice cut through the clamor, seeking clarity amidst chaos.

"None," Temp responded, its tone even, betraying no relief. "We are fortunate, but we must be vigilant as it is only a matter of time before we are ambushed by three or more."

"Temp, how long have I been out?" He assessed the wear on Elena's face, the strain in the cervidians' postures.

"Your meditation spanned fifteen hours." Temp's calculation was dispassionate, precise.

[Escalation, stage 2: Survive the entrapment of hungry predators. Time limit: 184 hours]

Fifteen hours. Cal’s mental gears ground against that number, surprise etching into his features. Time had slipped by, unnoticed, a thief in their midst. He took a breath, letting the revelation settle as he steadied himself for what lay ahead.

Cal pulled out his canteen from the spatial treasure and unscrewed the cap with swift, practiced movements, tilting the flask to his lips. Cool liquid cascaded down his throat, a feeble attempt to douse the fire within his skull. He waited for the relief that didn't come, the headache stubbornly anchoring itself behind his eyes.

"Focus," he thought to himself, recapping the flask and returning it to his side. His gaze sharpened, sweeping across the battleground where shadows danced with the frenetic energy of desperation.

Elena's bowstring sang, a high-pitched harmony to the guttural cries of the cervidians as they clashed with the unicorn bats. The beasts' leathery wings beat the air, their horned heads diving and weaving with predatory grace.

"What’s our current status?" Cal's question was a blade, cutting to the heart of the matter.

"They will be able to hold the perimeter," Temp reported. "But their fatigue is evident. They will make mistakes."

He nodded, acknowledging the truth in Temp's words. Elena's shoulders sagged between shots, her breaths ragged. The cervidians’ movements grew sluggish, their formation fraying at the edges.

"Cal, while you were meditating, there have been… complications… with my oversoul," Temp replied, the voice cutting through the din of battle. "The derivation process for reallocating attribute points was successful—but our assumptions were flawed. The system… perhaps it is better to show you."

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His fingers closed around the grip of his pistol, a familiar weight against the unfolding uncertainty. He mentally commanded Temp to fire at some of the stragglers in the distance.

“Hey bro, watch where you’re firing!” Jaxon commented.

Cal’s shot had veered off course and almost hit Jaxon. Creases emerged on Cal’s forehead and he put the pistol away. His headache made him a liability, but his companions could finish this fight on their own.

Cal put his hands up, “My bad, bro. You got this.” He gave them a thumbs up.

"Explain," Cal said, eyes darting to where Elena ducked under a swooping unicorn bat, her impromptu use of her blade, a silver flash in the dim light.

"Through the passive use of the pistol, I was able to derive how to shift attributes, however I am still working on applying it externally," Temp began, its tone uncharacteristically strained. "There I am hitting a wall."

“That’s normal, your channel probably isn’t big enough, you need to practice and strengthen your soul and with it, your bloodline channel will also possess more capacity.”

“That is not the issue, Cal.” Temp paused, hesitating. “While practicing, I shifted points to luck and they are now stuck.”

“What do you mean stuck – you can’t just release your oversoul?”

“I can shift luck to other attributes, but my original attributes are now allocated as luck at baseline, meaning my base attributes have disappeared.” Temp paused then continued, “Since I can only currently shift one attribute at a time, this may present both opportunities and disadvantages.”

“Hmmm, you have a bigger pool to work with, but you’re pretty vulnerable with limited attributes anywhere else.”

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Name Temp Class Mortal chair (level ? / 50) Bloodline Lineage of Leonidas Attributes STR VIT VIG DEX INT WIS LUK Total Effective level Base attributes 0

(-50) 5

(-50) 0

(-50) 0

(-50) 0

(-50) 0

(-50) 350

(+300) 355 50.71 Total attributes 12 17 11 11 11 11 434 508 72.55

[Achieve 100 base luck while still a mortal - system title awarded, Challenger of luck]

[Challenger of luck: +7% luck]

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“Do you think the system is stealing your attributes? It sounds like you do not have authority over them anymore. Can it be bypassed?" Cal asked, his question punctuated by the thud of a Joe’s hoofs against stone as he side-stepped a lethal strike.

“That is possible, but this is not all that I need to share. There is quite… a lot.”

[Emergency allocation protocol JE-712442 initiated – The electorate has been informed of a deviation in standard system protocol]

[Investigation protocol JE-169861 has been fast-tracked]

[Investigation protocol JE-169861 has been resolved]

[Hetar sector-wide announcement: A 434 luck bounty has been placed on Temp [mortal chair]. Captured alive. Information that leads to capture may entitle system user to a partial bounty]

[As investigation protocol JE-169861 has shifted karmic balance, user Temp is authorized to receive a commensurate reward]

[System authorization case [HETAR-8817291912] has been created]

[Per system judicial authorization case protocol, user Temp is entitled to the transcript of electorate briefing]

[Electorate has voted against system recommendations and HETAR-8817291912 has been overturned with no additional punitive measures or restrictions]

[User Temp, has been reverted to system level 1 per electorate verdict]

“Cal, after receiving these messages, I immediately purchased from the system skill shop to reduce the bounty, but after purchasing 380 luck worth of skills, the shop also locked me out. Unfortunately, there are no additional details around the bounty, so it is uncertain whether this worked.”

[Investigation protocol JE-169892 initiated]

[Investigation protocol JE-169892 has been fast-tracked]

[Investigation protocol JE-169892 has been resolved]

[User Temp has been locked out of Hetar-sector skill shop]

[As investigation protocol JE-169892 has shifted karmic balance, user Temp is authorized to receive a commensurate reward]

“Temp, the fuck? What have you been up to!! Goddess be damned. I told you not to do anything rash!”

“Cal, this may have placed us both in danger, so I apologize. But I am still learning to be my own being, and our fight with Kristina has taught me that I need to make my own choices as well or I will be sucked into your path alone.”

Cal did not know what to say. Temp was right, and indeed the way that he was treating Temp was akin to how master uses a tool, regardless of how he had been helping Temp progress.

Cal sighed, “That’s right Temp, but you need to be more careful. Don’t take advice from Kristina - she was wise, but unyielding. Whether we like it or not, our decisions affect each other.” Cal massaged his head. His headache now had more ammunition, “Show me the transcript and walk me through the skills you picked out.”