Well, that’s horrifying. And why the fuck is the description mocking the idea of sacrificing to protect? Is that personal? The fuck?!

  A voice echoed in his mind making Alan stop focusing on the new suicidal skill he had just gotten.

  “Bastard human fool! Answer me! Are you alive?! Did you fry your pea-sized brain?!”

  “I’m fine, Xil. Just bit a bit more than I can chew off.”

  “You don’t say? Tell me, is it me or do you have a death wish? ‘Cause as far as my demon ass is concerned, you’ve been trying to off yourself since we met, and maybe before that! Or… and hear me out, maybe you are just fucking stupid?”

  “Aw, do you care for me that much?” Alan teased. He couldn’t get mad at the demon anymore. It was one of two constants in his life after the apocalypse. He and Ashlyn. He had to admit there was even a sense of friendship there. Both were broken in their own ways, and both raged against that fate.

  “M-Me? Care? How about you shove—”

  Alan tuned the demon out and let him rant. Something was bothering him… something was missing. He quickly turned toward the exploded body of the creature. The dark onyx stone was there giving off a faint glow and the shattered pieces of the monster that looked like broken glass were slowly creeping toward it. The movement was almost imperceptible.

  With less than a small amount of enthusiasm Alan decided to consult the demon again, interrupting his rant.

  “Hey, Xil, shut up for a second. Do you know anything about this?”

  “Don’t— huh, curious. Try to pour some of your intent into the stone. Some creatures with powerful regeneration can live even if a single piece of them survives. Or so I’ve heard… somewhere.”

  “I see.”

  Alan carefully picked up the stone. It was cold to the touch and very smooth.

  “What do you mean pour some of my intent? Like mana?”

  “Ugh, I keep forgetting you are like a child. Mana is energy and using it makes your own. The one fueling your skills is different than the one outside as it is uniquely yours. It is like your signature. Learning to sense and manipulate the intent or will that makes the mana yours, so to call it, is an entirely different matter and might lead to unique results. Well, it’s different for everyone. Knowing you yours might just make you drop dead ‘cause I know that’s what you want deep down, you fucking pussy.”

  The damned demon was frustratingly useful. Still, that was good to know. Alan channeled some of his mana into the stone and concentrated. There was a faint response and for a brief moment, he could sense something else there. However, it was quickly drowned by his mana and extinguished.

  Alan grinned. This journey was shaping up to be a very welcome surprise. The stone remained in his hand and there was still a lot of energy inside, although it felt very strange. Alan pocketed it, figuring that he might eventually find a use for the thing.

  Next, he checked out the marks left on the mountainside from the life force he had thrown at it. They were deep and strange with no similarities. There were large crushed pieces of stone that had been turned to dust, leaving gaping holes in the mountainside. There were also blade wounds as if an insanely sharp sword had cut the stone like butter. The [Shadow Slash] would certainly not have been able to do that much damage. It was a powerful new skill he had gotten, but it had a high cost too.

  That left the question open. What exactly was Vitality? His wounds were still healing, albeit slower than a normal person’s – a problem resolved somewhat by [Warlock’s Body Mastery]. His stamina was absolute shit and it was certainly dictated to some extent by the attribute, but that too was covered by [One Mind, One Body]. Sure, the skill allowed him to have the endurance of an average healthy human at best, but that was still worlds away from what he had had on Earth. It was also getting worse the more his physical attributes were growing, which was bad but made sense. Being stronger and faster probably required more energy.

  Which meant that the stronger he got, the faster he would tire.

  He knew his lifespan was also very limited, and that was the biggest drawback. That, and the fact that the attribute was going down on its own from time to time when he overstrained his body. Did that mean that each time he healed or boosted his physical abilities with mana he was shortening his life? Because if so, the year he assumed he had left was probably down to a few months at best. How did losing and gaining points play into that?

  The extra vital energy he had gotten from the creature had almost killed him. He could still feel his flesh being shifted by growths that shrunk and expanded and branched out in his body. Was it a mutation or tumors? The experience had been disgusting and terrifying, but at least now he had a way to expel the energy if it happened again, which he certainly hoped it wouldn’t.

  “Hey Xil, what do you know about the Vitality attribute?”

  “Eh, not much. Figured everything was in the name and never paid much attention during… huh. I’m sure I was slacking somewhere. I think… some skills make use of it as energy. Ah, shit.”

  Well, he couldn’t know everything. A demon with amnesia was still better than being completely alone. It did give a certain sense of comfort. Now all that was left was to use his 24 free attribute points a get a good boost.

  He climbed up to his previous hiding spot and sat down. Xil was once again put on watch duty, while Alan contemplated his attributes. Will and Mind had a base of 97, while Magic was at a base of 96 before all the bonuses were applied. He hoped that bringing them all to a base of 100 or over would give him something extra. Maybe the smartest guy in the new world or something? A trait?

  It would take him exactly 10 points to do that. Or maybe 13, if he wanted to bring all to 101 and have 11 more points to play with.

  Ah, screw it. With a thought he put all 8 points in each of the attributes, bringing Will and Mind to a base of 105 and Magic to 104. It annoyed him a bit, but the bonuses ruined the evenness anyway.

  The change was almost palpable this time. The most obvious was the mana pool, but there was an overall change in his mind. No titles, achievements, traits, or anything else though.

  His new Status screen was shaping up to be quite the sight.

  The best part was he hadn’t had to waste any points to raise Vitality again. He also currently had 9 skills, which was quite a lot, but most were not even that usable in a fight. [Mortal Peril] was simply there due to his trait, which didn’t exactly explain why the will manifestation wasn’t.

  Learning about skills and if he could combine them in some way or advance them would be good. Keeping track of them all would be exhausting in the long run, especially if he kept receiving one every few levels.

  Skill Stones also changed things a lot. There were probably many rare and insane skills out there just ripe for the picking. Was there even a limit?

  “Xil?”

  “What now?” the demon grumbled. If Alan didn’t know better, he would say that Xil was sounding mighty tired.

  “I was just wondering if there is a limit to the amount of skills one can learn?”

  “Dunno how it is with humans, but for us demons it might be different. Then again, we typically depend on our bloodlines and the type of demons we are to learn skills, so I guess that could be determining the number. And I’ve told you before, sometimes less is more. Take fire skills for example. You can hurl spears, bolts, balls, pebbles, and all that, and each would be a separate skill with different strengths. However, if you have a skill that could manipulate fire at its core, you could get rid of them all and still be able to cast the way you like.”

  “That makes sense. So, if I get more shadow skills, at some point I might combine them all into one super powerful skill that will do all they did and more?”

  “Theoretically. I don’t remember the details.”

  That was another very interesting piece of information.

  “Thanks, Xil. Are you tired or something? Want me to put you away in the shadow space?”

  “Nah, I am good. I’ve been trying to examine the weave of the prison and find where exactly the breeze is coming from. I’d rather stay outside. Plus, I don’t want to miss your death.”

  “Well, I hope we can get you freed before that so I can punch your dumb face at least once.”

  “Please, my face is not dumb. Not that I remember it… I am sure that however I look like would be a thousand times more handsome than what you have going on. That hair on your face is looking scruffy.”

  “It’s called a beard and it's mighty awesome.” He had yet to shave.

  Just in time, something thundered in the distant skies interrupting their banter. It approached fast and soon reached his position.

  Alan instantly activated the chameleon ring and looked up. He saw the clouds bubbling and dispersing in a straight line. A large blurry shape passed over the mountain pass leaving a trail of black spatial tears that made [First Pathfinder] sing in Alan’s mind. It was as uncomfortable as it had ever gotten, and came with a warning of danger much stronger than he had experienced even in the spatial tunnel he had fallen through.

  The clouds acted like living beings as they rushed toward the cracks and enveloped them. Alan gaped as slowly space was returned to normal and the uncomfortable feeling buzzing in his soul disappeared.

  “I might be dying sooner rather than later if that thing comes for me,” Alan said while staring at the distance where clouds were rolling and working tirelessly to fix the damage.

  “Can’t wait,” Xil replied. “Your new skill can create a link with a creature and drain it of life, right? Imagine if you could mark something like that. It probably won’t even feel your leeching ass, and you will have a constant source of life.”

  Alan hadn’t shared details of his new skill with the demon, but apparently, Xil was way more perceptive than he had given him credit for. The idea was one of the first that had passed through Alan’s mind, but getting close and cursing something of that strength seemed like a death wish. Not that it wouldn’t be awesome.

  “I should probably prepare a curse mark, just in case. Then we start moving.” Alan said. The journey to this world was not anticipated. He still had some food in his shadow space but quickly took inventory. There was some alcohol in the endless flask of Mr. Muge, lots of werewolf blood, a bunch of kobold herbs that he hadn’t gotten around to checking out, the vials with bloody tears from the dungeon with unknown use, his daggers, some spare clothes, and his ritual tools.

  “You do that.”

  The process was less draining this time around. At least Alan felt better after it and he wondered if there was still some excess vital energy in his body, because it took him mere minutes to feel like he hadn’t just lost another large amount of blood.

  Another plus of almost dying by making his body too alive.

  The curse mark still looked as sinister as the last time. It would be a good trump card to have if he fell into a shit situation. He could theoretically drain a creature of its life force and pour the excess into [Sacrificial Attack]. The description of the skill was quite vague as to how precisely the attack manifested, and trying it out would be one of the dumbest things in the world to the current him, but it was still a good option when his back was against the wall.

  With everything prepared Alan took a swing of Arley’s beer and stood up. It was time to explore this so-called Fractal Battlefield and find out how the fuck he could go home.

  Hopefully, figuring that out would come with a slew of levels and good loot.

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