“You’ve started awakening your Talent!” Gravekeeper exclaimed, sounding surprised that he had any talent at all.

  Zayn blinked.

  How could the oldie know that he was untalented back on earth?

  “Those born of manaless planets find their first exposure to mana after integration. The spirit scours for attunement, continuously soaking itself in mana to awaken its talents. Once awakened, it can be something as simple as more efficient mana control, or elemental control,” The old man said without even looking at him, “Or even devouring like yours.”

  Zayn studied the bite marks on the blade, unsure what to feel about becoming less and less human. Not like he expected any less when he chose [Red Rager]. To be fair, he just wanted something cooler than the ability to eat metal.

  Hunger bared its maws wide inside him again. Curious, he checked his status for any changes. And there it was, a new tab, right under his status sheet.

  Talent: ??

  If devouring was the cause, what would be the effect? He found himself awfully curious. Chomping on the sword, he ripped off a good chunk and devoured it with a newfound excitement.

  He had to see what kind of talent he developed this time.

  Couldn’t be worse than the ones he had at Earth, huh?

  The taste of metal was alien, but at the same time, absurdly natural to his palate. He appreciated that it didn't feel like a chore. Knowing his luck, not being asked to devour corpses was already good enough.

  On the plus side, if he could eat metals, he was also unlikely to ever go hungry.

  “Most only begin to awaken their talent when they’re over level sixty,” The old man laughed in pure amusement. “I have never seen someone awaken so early.”

  That meant he was talented!

  Devouring Mana crystals like candies and then housing a literal world-ending disaster inside him had nothing to do with it. It was only because he was talented, goddamnit!

  “Yet, neither you nor your spirit seems to truly grasp what your talent is. You are very clueless, young one. You have blinded yourself, and your heart is a mess without a direction.”

  Zayn pursed his lips.

  Why was he being scolded? Instead of being praised?!

  You’re not my mom, old man.

  Turning around, he ignored the old man and went back to what he was doing, watching the metal stir inside of him. ‘I see you now’ allowed him to observe himself first before others, without the need to bleed.

  So he watched.

  The metal travelled from his esophagus to his stomach. Right after that, it was rapidly absorbed by his digestive system and distilled into pure metal, then soaked into his heart like a sponge.

  Hell, that was not how human physiology worked, yet somehow, his body did work like that now.

  Inside him, he felt something pop. A sense of satisfaction, similar to bones and joints popping, but at a smaller level. It combined into a heat inside his chest, as though his heart was forging...something.

  A warmth radiated to his body with his heart as the center.

  His blood, infused with the metal, traversed through every single one of his limbs, every organ system, and every fiber. His skin gained a strange, metallic sheen. The bond of blood and metal—he felt it within his very soul.

  He slashed his forearm open with the jagged edge of the spear. The flesh was slit open like a pomelo, yet no blood spilled. It was as though his body had turned into a magnet. One that furiously held onto the blood...that was now infused with metal.

  There was a weird impulse in him.

  It told him he’d be able to control the blood. No system description said he could, but he knew by instinct he could. So he clenched his jaw until it looked like he had a serious case of constipation.

  After an excruciating minute or so, a shimmering, semi-solid drop of blood danced atop his palm, bending per his will.

  A drop of blood and metal.

  ***

  Blood-bending. That’s what he decided to call it for now. By all functions and merits, it was that. Except it was significantly weaker and almost non-functional, as of now. What excited him was its potential.

  Right now, it has only a couple of small use cases, but nothing to scoff at.

  He had gained some minor control over his blood, like decreasing and increasing blood flow at will, faster and slower clotting of wounds. He could directly patch up injuries much faster than before.

  One feature in particular was something he greatly appreciated—the ability to cut open any part of his body from the inside, at his will.

  Whenever he wanted, the metal inside his bloodstream would join and turn into sharp edges, causing micro-punctures on his skin and letting his blood contact the mana.

  With this, he no longer had to cut himself to activate ‘I see you now’.

  Not having to commit ‘seppuku’ to activate it was worth more than money. He couldn’t look like a suicidal maniac in front of others.

  Excited, he ripped away at the metal reserves.

  He ate, ate, and ate, but no matter how much metal he devoured, it wasn’t enough to abate his hunger. It was nothing food could abate. He even tried gravefruits, but that was no help this time around.

  At least it helped with the headache.

  But he had a theory that, beyond the sphere and mana exposure, the gravefruits were behind his early awakening.

  Gravefruit: Restore your health and spirit!

  It helped him survive situations he couldn’t, and every time, the soothing energy also invisibly worked on his spirit. Gravekeeper said something about ‘spirit’ soaking in mana, so there should be some correlation, at least.

  With a thought, he made a slit on his wrist. Droplets of dark red blood seeped out. Struggling to take form. It was a weird feeling. Like finding out you could breathe manually, then you kept doing it until breathing normally felt abnormal.

  He made the blood rotate clockwise until it turned into a ball.

  ‘Bloodmetal’ was the name he decided for it.

  Not very creative. But it sounded just right to him. It was also growing rapidly. Just half an hour ago, it was only the size of a drop, but after several sessions, he managed to amplify it to the size of a baseball.

  He could bend it into solid shapes, whatever he wanted—swords, spears, hammers; tinier versions. But he couldn’t make them too sharp or blunt. They were like ordinary weapons on earth. Even a bit worse.

  Momentarily, he shifted it into a coin.

  “Coin, coin, tell me, how fucked am I between a scale of one to ten?” He flicked it up in the air. Not finding anything wrong with the question at all.

  As it rose high, it lost shape. Connection weakening. Bursting into a blood puddle.

  He laughed.

  The scale itself had broken.

  ***

  His budding talent might turn out to be quite powerful over time, but it wasn’t something that would help him too much in the short term.

  His current skillset was decently versatile—consisting of an eye skill, I See You Now, which was weirdly useful and frustrating in equal measures. An attack skill, Reinforced Strike. It looked relatively straightforward at first glance, but had a hidden world of nuances underneath. And Scarlet Veins, a skill that rewarded him for being masochistic, and a pretty awesome buff once a day. More if he broke the rules.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  He wasn’t allowed to break the rules.

  Oh, and Crimson Claws, which was a useful burst skill. Occasionally. He found it too energy-consuming for the damage output, as it took nearly half his charge reserves to do a proper combo once.

  This was a decent skill set. For a beginner, at least. The problem was that he was sent to the endgame stuff as a beginner. After much rumination, he decided to make a gamble.

  Active Skill ‘Sylvian Spear Arts’ and ‘Summon Thorn’ have been chosen!

  Skill not matched to host physiology. Skill is being recalibrated to match the host!

  Sylvian Spear Arts (Apprentice) — Your skill with spear improves massively, and you learn three of the Fae basic spear techniques–Impale, Sweep, and Block!

  Cost: None.

  This passive skill will provide you with more spear techniques as you master its basic techniques.

  Summon Thorn - (Apprentice) - Summon vines from underneath the ground in the form of thorny spears. The number and speed of Spears depend on your intelligence, and their size and strength depend on your fortitude.

  Cost: 1 charge per summon.

  You must have a Fae or other nature/wood-related bloodline within you to activate this skill.

  “Moment of truth.” He slid down the dune and reached a clearing.

  Without further ado, he stomped his right foot down on the sand—activating Summon Thorn. He felt something in his mind. A call that connected him to this vast greenery that was the endless essence of life.

  He was awed at its presence, but nothing happened as seconds passed, to the point where he wondered if he’d failed to summon it.

  Then, he felt a hint of movement not too far away from underneath. A rumble. Then, the entire desert shifted. A vine stabbed from beneath the ground, like a ghost poking its arm out from its grave. The size of it was equivalent to a small watchtower.

  He sighed.

  This was far too slow to be useful. It took some dozen seconds to summon it. By the time it was summoned, the enemy would have a field day with him.

  Guess you win some and lose some.

  He couldn’t really have guessed that number, and summoning speed would be calibrated to his Intelligence. It made sense once he thought about it. Affinity and Intelligence were related.

  If he could just summon a legion of spears out with Summon Thorn and combine it with Sylvian Spear Arts to land devastating strikes, he could clear this dungeon. Maybe one day he would be able to do that, but not now in any feasible capacity.

  “Well, I can gift it to the Stone Ape as a back scratcher.”

  He lay down on the bed of sand. A bit of frustration rang inside of him. His eyes met the ginormous moon simmering quietly above. He made a grabbing motion at it. It was just a massive, hovering satellite, but the sheer size of it made him unable to relax.

  There was another reason he was unable to relax—the two chatterboxes near the bonfire. They were still going on and on, prattling about the same things. Every time the old man spat something about his dead wife, he felt his mind numb.

  In less than an hour, he learned more small details about someone’s wife than he knew about his own childhood crush!

  Eyes red like rubies, hair blue like the skies, her white robes, all of those details stitched together to create the faint silhouette of a person, one that had nothing to do with the battlewraith of now.

  No! He shouldn’t get diverted.

  He should listen…lest he miss out on something important.

  Unfortunately, Raka was also loitering around and not asking anything of real importance.

  “How did you two meet?” It was asked in sheer curiosity.

  Another useless question.

  “Oh, you want to know how we met? It’s a long story. I met her when I was just sixteen, when my world met its scheduled apocalypse.”

  But not a useless answer!

  Zayn perked his ears. This was certainly ‘important’.

  Scheduled apocalypse? How did that work? Like, after a certain time, would every world fall to the system? If so, did certain events exacerbate it, like world wars, famines, and natural disasters? Or were there some other triggering factors, such as humans sending one too many space probes?

  No. Earth’s downfall had to have something to do with Harambe’s death, for certain. Things had gone to shit after that.

  “We were just kids with dreams, but everything fell apart—just like our world. Needless to say, I would’ve died without her taking care of me.”

  Zayn didn’t even breathe loudly, lest the old man turn manic again.

  “I survived the tutorial with her help, just barely. But none of my family survived—save for one distant relative. Consumed by my vengeance, I joined a shady organization. I didn’t understand that look in her eyes when we parted.”

  Zayn stared at the old man with pity.

  No place in this hellhole was safe. Not even the supposed tutorial. No surprise. More than monsters, it was the heart of the people that was dangerous. With no law to hold them accountable, people would eat themselves.

  The old man’s back looked more hunched than ever. “The day she died in my arms, I finally saw through the look in her eyes…”

  Zayn alternatively stared at Raka and the Battlewraith called Merisa.

  The details he could see using ‘I see you now’ told him she was a battlewraith. A ghastly thing. How did she turn into this sort of ghost-like being?

  The old man himself wasn’t particularly relevant to whatever was happening here. He mentioned he was stuck, but why? And if someone of his ability was to be stuck here, what hope did he have of leaving alive?

  He looked around. During the day, the ground swallowed anything non-living—like credit cards, coins, or old and broken motorcycles.

  But not everything it swallowed got ‘life’.

  Only Raka had returned alive. Certain conditions seemed necessary to be fulfilled for such ‘resurrection’. A soul? Perhaps an identity? Or maybe…

  “Did you happen to bury her corpse here?” Zayn blurted out.

  He felt himself physically pick the wrong dialogue option right after he said that.

  The talk over the bonfire turned pin-drop silent.

  Raka stared at him like he’d asked the most absurd thing ever, its headlight turning on and off. And the battlewraith shot him a death glare like he’d chosen death. Even the coffin opened its lid wide.

  Licking his lips, he pretended to ignore them. The ball was shot out of the cannon; no use regretting anymore. He checked the old man’s body language, which didn’t change much on the surface.

  Except a soul-crushing pressure radiated out as the old man kept combing her hair without a response. Air simmered and warned him. Everything, including mana, had frozen.

  Like a calm before the storm.

  “As I said, the generation nowadays doesn't understand honor or the worth of vows!” Raka broke the crushing silence, trying to joke it all away. Its headlight was still staring at him, warning him not to open his mouth. “But you…You two are excellent. Not even death could do you guys apart!”

  Zayn stood up.

  Walking up to Raka like a robot, he got on it and revved hard. He had rested enough. More importantly, he didn’t feel safe now that the battlewraith was in an iffy mood.

  What if she strangled him in his sleep?

  ***

  Hells were empty, and so was this place. All the devils had gone somewhere else. The entire desert was silent tonight, except for the roaring breeze. No fighting at all. Most of the trees in the vicinity were still intact, meaning no fights had transpired tonight.

  Where did the Stone Ape and Undead Treant Knight go? Was today an off-day? And who approved the vacation? The dungeon boss?

  “Just a second more and I'd have made him spill out everything! And you ruined it all! Ruined it!” Raka grumbled the entire path as they sped into the depths of the desert.

  Zayn pursed his lips. In his defense, he was also trying to get information. But there was no place for honest people in this world.

  They passed through the gaps of dune one after the other, but the emptiness of the desert crawled underneath his skin. Zayn had to scoot around for a solid few minutes without catching any signal.

  That was…weird.

  Trails :

  Perform a perfect kill! (5/11)

  Perform a perfect parry! (12/33)

  Perform a perfect dodge! (54/99)

  The trials weren’t going to grind themselves.

  Logically, he’d thought this to be easy. How hard was it to parry, dodge, and kill? He’d done that a lot here. But the trials weren’t so simple.

  For one, The System didn’t count kills if they were weaker than him. Same for parrying and dodging. They had to be at least quite a bit stronger than him for the system to register any of the performances.

  Even that was fine. He just had to find a few enemies higher-ranked than him and fight them. Simple enough.

  “But where did they go?”

  They were nowhere. Just gone. Vanished.

  Slowly, he was sure of it— all of this was because of him. He had ‘stolen’ the cursed mana sphere; left the stone ape seething. And he scratched its nose, too.

  Talk about stealing the gold and harassing the wife.

  Perhaps, ‘Stone Ape’ had come to a temporary truce with the ‘Treant Knight’ monster to lure him in. Perhaps, they were just waiting for him to fall into their trap and—

  Beep! Beep! Beep!

  The blaring noise of the radar took him out of his overthinking.

  His shoulder danced, and he let go of caution. He was just overthinking! With Raka alongside him, he had nothing to fear.

  Before long, he found a small, lonely midget trudging through the sand—like a lone warrior on a mission. Clearly, this workaholic golem here didn’t appreciate vacations.

  As the moon struck against its body, it left a long shadow on the ground.

  It was him, the alpha golem, the aura farming golem.

  Stone golem - lv 13

  As soon as it heard the sound of the motorcycle, though, it lost all its aura and made a quick decision to run for it!

  “Where are you running?” Zayn laughed wildly, bringing out the chain and swinging it like a whip, ready for stone-slaughter. The air ruffled his long, untidy hair as he edged towards it at an alarming velocity.

  He was going to enjoy this very, very much.

  He thought...

  All his hopes and dreams were shattered the very next moment.

  A ghastly silhouette dived down like a hawk, and next thing he knew, the stone golem was missing its head.

  What?

  The battlewraith hovered in the air. Her long, black hair shifting like living worms, extending up to tens of meters. The ginormous red moon shone behind her ghastly figure. Holding the golem's head in her talonlike feet, she crushed it before tossing it down towards him.

  Thud

  Zayn mutely watched it roll over to his feet. Unsure whether to laugh or cry.

  This murderhobo battlewraith wanted to do that to him, didn’t she?

  “It was only a question…” He muttered in regret, leaving the last part unsaid. He tapped Raka, who understood the assignment and immediately blasted away.

  On his way, Zayn had the luck to meet another couple of golems. Needless to say, both of them were brutally murdered by the angry ghostwife. For no crimes of their own.

  Every time, she would dive down, shoot Zayn a ‘fuck you’ glare as she ripped their heads off, and fly away.

  She sure was enjoying herself!

  Zayn wasn’t enjoying this one bit, however. Frustrated, he traced the figure of the wraith flying around like a bird following him from above,

  “We gotta do something about this witch.”

  But what could they do?

  His motorcycle suddenly started to thrum much more strongly. Its radar widened a whole lot. Then, it changed its direction towards where the dots were denser in number.

  Raka declared, “Buckle up.”

  Burst mode activated!

  Bright light exploded from Raka’s wheels, and Zayn felt the heat prickle against his skin. It blazed a fierce golden yellow like a phoenix rising from ash. Its blue tank and frame narrowed, sleek golden stripes like the plumes of a feather appeared on it. Its double exhaust pipes stretched and elongated, joining together into a long, tail-like extension.

  A roaring plume of flame erupted from the extension, propelling them forward with incredible speed.