1% Lifesteal

After returning from his delve, Freddy was greeted by a scene that made him pause.

Hellen and Lucas were sitting on the couch; they looked to be in a strange mood.

Freddy could spot a hint of glee in Lucas's eyes, but Hellen looked… confused. Torn, maybe.

Before he could ask, he spotted the newspaper sitting on the coffee table before them. The headline immediately cleared up any questions Freddy had.

SCION OF GEM & FALLER FOUND DEAD!

Although he was quite far away, his perception was more than good enough to read the contents of the article. The cause of Jason's death was attributed to a wild spirit attack, with a sensationalized suggestion that "mysterious powers" were moving behind the scenes and that the attack might not be as random as it seemed.

Unfortunately, Freddy couldn't tell whether the investigation actually dug up something that raised eyebrows or if the newspapers were just being full of shit.

At any rate, the strange mood in the room made sense now. He didn't know exactly what kind of relationship Hellen had with the bastard, but it didn't seem to have been as one-sided as he presumed. He shook his head and sighed, pitying the woman.

Lucas spotted him entering the living room and tapped his mother on the shoulder. She turned around and raised a limp hand to greet him. "Oh… Hello Mr. Cliff…"

"Hi," Lucas greeted him as well.

Freddy hadn't said anything about killing Jason, and seeing that the situation was complicated, he decided to keep it a secret. After putting on a confused expression, he walked forward and carefully asked, "Did something happen?"

"It's nothing," Lucas said. "Just uh…"—he glanced at his mother and then silently mouthed—"I'll tell you later."

Freddy nodded. "Well… What do you guys want for dinner?"

"I want pizza!" Lucas immediately said.

"I'm all right with whatever…" the woman added.

"Sure thing. I'll go make the order right away."

He walked over to the mounted crystal tablet in the corner of the living room. He had read through enough newspapers to know the contact of every single delivery service in Repentawa. After writing down the order and sending it through, he turned around. "I'll by in my room if you guys need anything."

"Sure," Lucas said as he nodded.

Freddy walked back to his room and pulled out his notebook.

It was becoming increasingly clear that he had a lot of work to do. With that in mind, he had to write down his priorities and keep track of everything he needed to do.

But first, for the first time in quite a while, he decided to write down his progress.

GATHERING:

Second star—199% essence capacity

2-star satellite

TALENT:

1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing

SOUL CONSTRUCT:

Scythe: Essence Extraction

TEMPERING TECHNIQUES:

Blood affinity:

Pool of Blood: Stage 1—99% Progress

Crimson Mercury: Stage 1—49% Progress

Water affinity:

Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1—Complete

Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 1—47% Progress

Abyssal Depths: Stage 1—91% Progress

ACTIVE ABILITIES:

Blood affinity:

Gore Knuckles: Stage 1—84% Progress

Blood Javelin: Unfinished ether shell

Accelerate Blood Projectile: Unfinished ether shell

Water affinity:

Flowing Strike: Stage 1—92% Progress

Hydraulic Flex: Stage 1—79% Progress

Create Water: Stage 1—53% Progress

Purify: Stage 0—99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade)

Pressure Jet: Unfinished ether shell

Hydraulic Throw: Unfinished ether shell

Perished water affinity:

Perished Water: Stage 0—8% Progress

Ghosts of the Drowned: Stage 0—8% Progress

SPIRIT ABILITIES:

Blood Sacrifice

Leviathan's Fury

UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS:

Blood Ring: -6% essence cost, +5% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed. Attacks inflict minor bleeding.

Pool of Blood was almost ready to upgrade—in fact, it was so close that, when he used it for a few minutes, it was enough to make it ready for an upgrade.

While that was a pleasant surprise, frankly, he was seriously disappointed with his overall gains across the board. He had been so busy running that it had been months since he'd made any serious progress.

Purify had been ready for an upgrade forever, but it wasn't really an ability he needed all that often, and even then, it did the job well enough, even at stage 0. Still, he'd upgrade it if he came across a Purity vestige. Leaving an ability unupgraded bothered him.

During all the time spent driving around from place to place, he'd put Thousand Wet Hells to work, but all he managed to get out of that was a few percent of progress. That ability was just insanely difficult to master.

Other than that, he'd used Hydraulic Flex a lot, and that had seen solid progress, especially during his hike through the mountains.

And that was mostly it.

Out of everything he needed to do, the javelin throw combo was the most pressing as far as he was concerned. It was a glaring weakness he wanted to patch up before he got himself into trouble again. Depending on who he faced, having the ranged attack in the form of actual, finished abilities could make the difference between life and death.

That being said, he needed to fulfill some strict requirements. He could already crystallize the shells, but the results wouldn't be satisfactory.

The runes that the ether shells were made of weren't just random nonsense. They actually signified critical microconcepts relating to the ability, and from reading into these runes before the cage was crystallized, it was possible to infer the quality of the finished product.

Accelerate Blood Projectile needed the "even distribution" and "instant" microconcept runes. Basically, the acceleration had to be equally distributed throughout the whole object he was throwing, otherwise the trajectory wouldn't be stable. And the acceleration had to be instantaneous.

Blood Javelin needed the "aerodynamic," "sharp," "solid," "balanced," and "quick formation" microconcepts.

And last, but definitely not least, Hydraulic Throw needed the "precise direction" rune.

Compared to the five runes of Blood Javelin, the two and one runes of the other two didn't seem that bad. Indeed, for Accelerate Blood Projectile, there wouldn't be much trouble in finishing a perfect shell.

But "precise direction" was a different story altogether.

Pretty much all external abilties had direction concepts. The direction concepts were: "undirected," "general direction," "specific direction," and "precise direction."

While specific and precise seemed like almost the same thing, they were miles apart in difficulty of obtaining them. "Specific direction" was more focused but still not exact.

"Precise direction" was perfectly exact. As in, the ability would go exactly where the user was aiming. That didn't mean that it wouldn't miss, naturally; the user could still suck at aiming, and the targets could get out of the way. But the precision mattered. Without "precise direction," thoughts of truly mastering throwing things was a pipe dream, since no matter how good he got, the ability itself would mess up his aiming.

Sighing, he took out a second notebook and started writing down some notes, mainly just to organize his thoughts about everything else that needed doing.

Before long, the food arrived, and the three of them ate their food in silence.

The pizza was fantastic.

The next morning, Freddy got up and stretched, had his morning coffee and breakfast, and headed out for another day of delving. He decided to solely direct his focus on developing his throwing combo until he was done with it.

The first thing he did was find a Storage remnant to upgrade his Pool of Blood into Lake of Blood. Now, his blood reserves would rapidly expand with the use of the newly upgraded tempering technique. He also found a Purity vestige by coincidence during his search, and with that, his Purify became Stage 1.

Now, it was time to practice the throwing combo. Stationary targets weren't the best choice, mainly because it would be better to make money and practice at the same time. While running around and throwing javelins at monsters was fine and all, he had a better idea.

He knew of one place where there were plenty of targets to practice on.

Mentally, he thought back to the passage map and headed in a direction.

He was headed into the Fortress Dungeon.

***

An unassuming man passed through the streets of Repentawa. His skin was clear and his bearing was solid, but his face was ordinary and his aura was seemingly nonexistent. With his countenance and common fashion, he fit right in among the masses, walking past the numerous people scurrying through the streets on his way to his final target for the day.

As a four-star archhuman, he was pretty much undetectable. Not even another four-star would be able to sense him without a potent perception talent. Well, perhaps if he walked right next to another four-star, they'd be able to tell, but from a distance, it was a bit tricky.

In the Northern Belt, any person who reached the peak of the third star was immediately recruited and sent back into the empire.

Of course, not everyone would agree to leave so easily, especially not if they were at the very peak of power in the region. The luxuries and status that three-stars enjoyed in this place were numerous, and parting with those to become just another three-star of the empire was hard.

Thus, at times, people needed a bit of… "encouragement."

As an Imperial Adjudicator, that was his role—to keep an eye on the three-stars living among the people of the Northern belt, and to make sure they were sent back as soon as they stepped on the 299% threshold.

For this small city, he had very few targets he had to keep a close eye on. The vast majority of them were nowhere near the peak, and likely, they wouldn't reach the peak during their lifetime. The further along one went with their progress, the more risks they had to take to keep moving forward. Along the path up, an uncountable number of individuals fell off and got stuck.

Some people hit hard walls due to a lack of talent. Some lacked the resources to fuel their growth. Some suffereed a debilitating soul injury and couldn't gather any more latent aura. And some were just too afraid to keep putting themselves in danger, especially if they already had every luxury they could want at their fingertips.

But there was a minority who just seemed to be fated for more. People who only stopped making progress if they died at some point along the way. These were the daredevils and troublemakers, the adventurers and stars, the legends among the living—and among them, there were even some who, despite wanting to stay put, just couldn't stop themselves from reaching greater heights.

With a pleased smile, he was headed to meet with exactly such a person.

He walked into an older building and went to the top floor.

There, he knocked on the door to a penthouse.

Moments later, a man wearing a white shirt walked out. He was tall and muscular, with tattoos and scars scattered across his entire body; he had a thick goatee and a shaven head. The man looked displeased to see the adjudicator, but, with a depressed sigh, he ushered him in.

The two of them sat in an opulent living room.

The tattooed man showed no hospitality or signs that he was happy to see the adjudicator. He simply scowled at him and asked, "What do you want?"

"Thor, come on now, this must be our, what, tenth meeting?"

"Eleventh."

"Yes, eleventh, so would it kill you to show me some hospitality?"

Thor scoffed, pulled a glass out of his storage ring, spat into it, and then pushed it forward. "Here, have a drink."

He glanced at it and sighed. "Charming."

"I asked you what you're doing here."

"You know precisely what I'm doing here," the adjudicator said with a pleased smile. His eyes squinted, and he peeked deep into Thor's soul, where he saw two firm stars and one nearing completion, sitting on precisely 298% progress—drops away from 299%.

Thor clicked his tongue. "Don't tell me you're already here to take me away?"

"Unfortunately, that would violate my Adjudicator's Oath. But it seems I won't have to wait long, either way."

A silence settled between them.

Thor leaned forward and stared deeply into the man's eyes. "Are you sure we can't make a deal?"

"Be careful with what you're suggesting."

"I'm not going to fucking bribe you, dipshit. You know what my offer is."

"I have forwarded it to the courts," he lied. "The suggestion to have you appointed as a watchdog of the Northern Belt was refused."

Thor's fists tightened. "You're lying."

"I am being sincere. You should already know the empire has no interest in improving the quality of life in the Northern Belt. I have explained the same thing to you many times already, yet you can't seem to part with the idea."

"Is there really nothing I can do?"

"Sure you can—reach the fifth star and become an Overlord. I'm sure the empress herself will be willing to hear you out then."

Thor half-snarled and half-laughed at that. "Real funny."

"I am serious." He threw one leg over another. "With your talent, you have pretty solid odds of getting there in another century or so."

Thor chuckled at that suggestion. "So you're telling me to abandon my people for a hundred years, all for a 'chance' to change something?"

"Look." The adjudicator sighed. "My job here is to make your transition to the empire as smooth as you're willing to make it. You can also choose to be stubborn and die a dog's death. That won't save your people from anything, will it?"

Thor's expression darkened.

The adjudicator couldn't suppress a sneer. "You know, there is always one thing you could do." He raised his hand and extracted a vial.

Then he slowly placed it on the table before Thor. "That is a special type of soul venom. If you drink it, your star will be reverted by around five to fifteen percent, and you will be left with a soul wound that will prevent you from gathering." His smile widened. "What do you say? You will forever be stuck at the third star, but you will never be forced to leave this shithole, either. Sounds like a wonderful idea, doesn't it?"

Thor stared at the venom. His jaw clenched, and his fingers pressed together so tightly his knuckles went white.

The adjudicator laughed darkly. "Come on now, what's the problem? Are you afraid?" He sneered and chuckled again. "There are so many ideologues such as yourself. Self-proclaimed heroes and loyal servants of the less fortunate. But you ask them to make one sacrifice"—he lifted his index finger—"just one… and suddenly, they aren't feeling so heroic.

"So come now—prove yourself. Do you have the guts to stand by your ideals… or are you just another coward who—" His words were cut off as Thor swiftly scooped up the vial and downed the whole thing.

The adjudicator's eyes flashed wide open.

Thor immediately started sweating. He dropped the vial, and it fell to the carpet, making a light thud. He grinned back at the adjudicator and forced himself to sit upright. "I am not some half-baked motherfucker who doesn't stand by his words. If this is the only choice I have, I'll take it."

The adjudicator's face turned ugly, and a brooding sense of dissatisfaction spread across his features. His lips curled into a frown, and he slowly got up, fixing the collar on his shirt. "Well then. It appears you are a true idiot. In truth, that venom was quite costly, but it would be uncouth of me to ask for recompense." He forced a smile. "Consider it a parting gift. I doubt I'll ever see you again.

"And, by the way, the venom you just consumed is a truly insidious substance. The cure for it is far out of your means. Kiss the wealth and glory of the fourth star goodbye. Forever."

With those words, the adjudicator walked away, slamming the door on his way out.

***

Thor sat there, watching the bastard leave. As soon as the doors slammed, he dropped his cool posturing and panicked. "Oh, fuck fuck fuck that fucking hurts, motherfucking ape tits, holy shmeat!" He hurriedly meditated, grabbing every wisp he could feel to try and wash out the venom. Not only did it hurt like a bitch, it was wasting away his star—he wanted to keep every shred of power he could.

After an agonizing fifteen minutes, he finally washed away the last of it. Thankfully, the venom only left a solid scar and not a permanent leak. He'd have been so fucked if he kept losing more ether.

"God, why did I do that!?" he shouted, burying his head in his hands and groaning. He grabbed a nearby pillow and screamed into it like a teenage girl who had just heard that her crush had smiled at her biggest enemy.

He threw the pillow away, his clothes looking disheveled. Then, he laughed. "I really am one stupid motherfucker…"

His star settled on 291%. He felt considerably weaker.

He couldn't stop himself from crying. Frankly, he felt so goddamn bitter. At just the third star, he struggled to make a real difference. He'd come a long way from the homeless kid he had been dozens of years ago, but… this place needed a truly heavy hand to change for the better.

This was an immeasurable loss. For a long moment, he even thought he should have taken the chance to reach the fifth star, but… that was a pipe dream.

Twenty minutes later, his doorbell rang again, and the person he had been expecting to come was actually the one who opened the door this time.

"Whoa there, you okay?" A tall, burly man with long golden hair asked in a surprisingly high-pitched, mellow voice. He had a goatee similar to Thor's own, and his eyes were a bright shade of blue, like the shallows of the ocean on a bright sunny day. He was wearing a denim jacket with torn sleeves and a tight, black shirt beneath that.

"No… I'm not okay, Travis," he said to his friend. Then, he explained what just happened.

His life-long friend gave him a tight hug and comforted him. "There, there… We aren't out of options!" He pulled back. "You've always tried to do everything yourself… Why must you be like this? Let us help more. We'll get more people on board!"

"No…" Thor sobbed. "That will never be enough. It's almost impossible to find trustworthy people in this shithole." He laughed between the tears, wiping his face with his sleeve. "And even when we do, they fucking die."

His friend looked like he wanted to say something, but he simply nodded with a sad expression. "Come on, now. Let's sit you down."

It was still rather early in the day, so the two of them ate lunch and chatted.

Thor felt and looked like a man who had just lost everything. His gaze was distant and cold, full of despair and heartbreak. His mood swung between hopelessness and anger.

At one point, he left and went to bed, collapsing head-first into his pillow and going deathly still.

"Are you gonna be like this all day?" Travis asked him.

"Leave me alone," Thor's muffled voice called from under the pillow.

Travis sighed and walked forward, grabbing him by his forearm and pulling him. "Come on, get up."

"No! Leave me alone! Let me be miserable!"

"Come on, man, you're acting like a little kid again. Let's go for a delve to take your mind off things."

Thor groaned. "My soul hurts and I'm tired and my head hurts and I don't wanna go."

"Your soul will recover faster if you give it some light exercise. Now come on, don't be lazy."

Thor sighed. "Fine. Bring me my axe, and I'll come."

"Get up. You're a grown man. Get it yourself."

He groaned as he crawled out of bed and walked over to his closet. Once he swung it open, he revealed a whole collection of powerful weapons. If he was going to get the anger out of his system, he would do it with the most powerful weapon he had.

His hand reached for a large, beautiful axe that emanated a mighty aura. It was a cursed weapon that amplified the power of his lightning abilities.

The two men donned their gear and walked to the passage.

"There goes Thor…!" a man whispered from the side.

People mumbled to each other and watched in admiration as the two men walked through the crowd. Yet some among the people present glared at them with abject hatred. Whether they were the lackeys of the local crime lords or innocent victims of propaganda, neither of the men cared.

Nobody would dare get in their way.

"Where are we gonna go?" Thor asked. "Wanna bust down the entrance to one of the private passages again?" he suggested with a wide grin.

"No, man, you're injured," the man said, shaking his head. "Don't stir up trouble just yet."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Hmm…" the man hummed. "How about we go to the dungeon?"

Thor thought for a moment, then he smiled. "Yeah… Sure… We haven't gone in a while.

"Maybe we'll find something interesting."