// Aw fuck. I'm really sorry, Dracorde, your chapter is really cool, but I wrote all of this shit before checking if anyone else was contributing. :(
I breathed in deeply, closing the level-up menu.
I could run away. Everyone in the camp was asleep, relying on me to keep an eye after them. I wouldn't have to kill anyone. I wouldn’t have to lie to anyone. If I tried to, I'd get plenty of experience, but… no, I was in a difficult situation, but I could still act morally. Killing a bunch of people for experience was fucked up.
The longer I stay here, the higher the risk of me getting caught as a fraud possessing the body of their friend. I'm not sticking around.
I started grabbing the few things I knew this body had. I packed some food into the backpack, making sure that I was carrying just enough for the journey into the nearest town. I might have to hunt some game on the way, but the cheetah knew how to do it. I found the cheetah’s hand-crossbow and the scabbard of his scimitar. Putting the scabbard on, I reached into the soul of the vessel I was possessing. Tiber was a flexible fighter. He was comfortable with both ranged and close-proximity combat. I could borrow that knowledge. The world reduced itself to simple forms as I looked inward, searching through the branches that I wasn’t making use of yet. Finding the relevant information, I focused my will on it. My mind sharpened as knowledge flooded into me.
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Proficiencies unlocked:
Scimitar
Hand-Crossbow
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Stuffing some clothes into the little space that was left, I closed the backpack and put it on. Trying to not wake up any of the sleeping men, I quietly made my way into the forest. Navigating through the stars using the cheetah’s ranger knowledge, I figured out the direction I should be walking in. I was headed to Nordif, a merchant-controlled city-state, a couple of days of travel away. I’ll have plenty of opportunities there.
Very soon I felt a tugging. Anathema. The cheetah did not want to abandon his friends. Nay, he shared their desire for revenge. Against Boleyn, the wolf that killed Olem. And against me, the man that let it all happen. As I walked, the sensation grew stronger and stronger until my self-preservation instincts kicked in and forced me to stand still. I could not go any further unless I wished to fight with the cheetah’s soul for every inch crossed.
This was as far as I could get without levelling up, I supposed. I opened up a menu, scrolling down to the relevant perks.
“Kinempathy Upgrade: Your connection to the mortal soul deepens even further. When possessing someone, you may manipulate their thoughts and feelings in order to modify their behaviour and personality. Whenever a big change is made, the soul may try to fight for control.”
“Paralysing Possession Upgrade: Your experience with possession taught you how to quickly shut off someone's control of their body. When channelling possession on someone, they're incapacitated until your attempt of possession fails or succeeds.”
I could repossess someone after I get kicked out of their body, but that doesn’t solve the original problem of anathema. No, if I could get this soul to accept my course of action, I could stay within this vessel longer.
Pressing confirmation on Kinempathy, I felt a familiar trickling of power as my consciousness felt… more present in the vessel of the cheetah. His consciousness was mine to command. This… this felt fucked up, but it had to be done for self-preservation. I shouldn’t have gotten myself in this mess in the first place, I shouldn’t have helped the wolf attack Olem or Tiber, but I did, so now I had to deal with the consequences.
It would be simpler if I didn’t make any verbal communications with the cheetah. No, it’s better if he was blissfully unaware. It’s difficult to fight something that springs on you without warning. I’d already be halfway done before he noticed anything was off.
I didn’t know if this would help, but… I sat down on the ground. With my legs crossed, I rested my hands on my knees. I tried to shut out the outside world as I looked inward, focusing myself on the other consciousness that resided in this body.
I tried to plant a gentle suggestion in his head. Something normal. “We need to find the wolf.” I saw the soul rumble as it accepted the words. “The longer we spend here, the further the wolf can get away.” The soul stirred anxiously. This… it was just on the verge of a breaking point. He was about to figure out that something was wrong. I needed to push more, though. “We need to leave the camp behind if we are to have any chance at finding revenge.”
This worked better than I hoped. The cheetah did not realise anything was off until too late. When he tried to push against the last sentence, it was already too late. Temporarily losing feeling in my limbs as the cheetah tried reclaiming the body, I slammed my will against the soul’s. The blow wasn’t something the soul was expecting. I practically KO’d Tiber. I quickly rushed to reclaim the parts of the body that were lost to me. Standing up, I felt much lighter. For now, at least, the feeling of anathema was gone.
The next few hours blended together. Walking, walking, more walking… to entertain myself, I spent some time reading through the classes’ abilities. I’d have to pick at some point. I already determined that I wanted to be a mage, but… nngh, the rest held such an allure as well. The black cat, for one, had that AESTHETIC. Edgy aesthetic. And Boleyn, evidently a barbarian or a warrior, had a physique that made me salivate as I visualized his body. Mages typically weren’t physically impressive, except in raunchier fiction. Maybe I could have, like… a nice, fit look, complete with a flattering set of abs. No wizard robes. Something that exposed the midriff would be better.
I shook my head. I shouldn’t be thinking about boys, or what would be the hottest look to seduce them. No, I should figure out what’s optimal.
Putting my attribute points into knowledge, I clicked confirm. Ideas flowed into my mind as I felt my mind fill with trivia, facts, formulas, blueprints, theories… politics of this world, though I felt like that made me dumber. My eyes grew with fascination. Years of study flashed in front of me, without me having to do any of the actual work for it. My, even if knowledge didn’t have a practical application, I’d still put points into it. I felt an unusual sense of belonging, like I’d lived in this world for decades. I knew where we were on the continent. I knew where all the countries were. I had a general understanding of their cultures, even if it did come from books.
I reached for some dried meat as I went back to the question of selecting a class. Hell, I needed a talk with someone to help me with this. Against my better judgement, I decided to reach out to Tiber.
"Hey." I said nonchalantly, chewing on a piece of jerky. The minute went by silently. I wasn't graced with a response.
"Tiber, you in there?" I pinched my shoulder. He could feel everything I felt, so this would probably get his attention.
"Fuck you." The cheetah's bitter voice replied. No further comments were made. Getting a glimpse of his thoughts, I saw how much he wanted to drive the scimitar into my body. I clenched the scabbard instinctively.
I continued walking. Sooner or later he'd start talking. He had no agency over his situation beyond what he could achieve by telling me something, so…
Twelve minutes passed. I kept reading his surface thoughts in the meantime, getting a grasp of how he felt. Powerless, angry, depressed… Olem was a friend of his. Olem's death was because of me. He couldn't forgive that. No, he was coming up with any possible way to seize control of the body, push me out, choke me with my own blood. This mix of emotions infected me as well, making me chew more anxiously.
"What's your name?" Tiber finally spoke. His tone was somewhat accusatory.
"Dronoth will do. Trying this name out for now, but maybe I'll change it to something else." I licked the seasoning off of the fingers of my furred hand.
Tiber processed what I said, absentmindedly savouring the taste of the jerky just like I did. He thought me to be a… titled criminal, maybe, one who changed identities on the go, hence the "trying names" thing.
"How do you do what you do, Dronoth? How do you sleep with yourself?" The cheetah made no effort to hide his fury at me. His tone was angry, demanding some kind of excuse for taking his body and Olem.
"Divine providence. God up there said he wants to see me lead an interesting life and placed me in this place with my powers." I sighed, putting my hands into my pockets. "I don't feel good about this, Tiber. Olem didn't have it coming, I think. If I could, I'd tell Boleyn not to do it. I haven't slept on it yet, honestly, so I'm not sure if I can sleep with myself."
He didn't believe me. I wish I could prove it to him, but… I don't really know how. I'll just continue to speak. I wanted to talk to someone about the situation I'm in for a while now.
"I was walking over to my workplace when all of a sudden I blacked out and found myself in this world with a bunch of shit I didn't own. When I started learning more about this world, I… I mean, I got really excited. I've only heard about this sort of thing in games. This whole world is like a game to me, except…" My eager tone dropped to a much lower one, growing solemn. "I haven't seen Olem's body, but everything just got so much more fucking real now that everyone tells me he's dead." A set of knowledge surfaced in my head. Death wasn't permanent. People reincarnated into new bodies, starting their adventures all over again. Olem was probably already an aspiring mercenary in his late teens, in a new form, a new life. This made the weight on my heart lighter, but I still felt terrible for putting everyone through what happened. The camp likely wouldn't see Olem for years if not decades. The loss was real, even if temporary.
"You saying you're new to this?" Tiber asked incredulously. He thought this was a strange lie to tell.
I huffed. "Whole reason I'm talking to you is because I'm trying to figure out what class I should pick." I heard a pin drop. There weren't any actual pins, but Tiber somehow projected the sound into my mind, I think. He thought I had to be lying. There's no way someone low-level can possess people.
"Is it possible for me to show you, like… my screens? I don't think other people can see them for some reason, even though you and I are literally using the same set of eyes." I asked innocently, hoping that I could back my claims up if he'd seen it for himself.
"...there's a little green rectangle with a handle on the bottom in the top right corner." Tiber replied a dozen seconds later, just wishing that he would finally find out that it was a sick joke or something. I found the monitor button and pressed it. The semi-transparent menu grew solid. Reading through my character sheet, I felt a mental punch being thrown at my gut as Tiber hissed through his imaginary teeth.
"YOU'RE LEVEL SIX, AND YOU'RE THE FUCKING REASON WE DIDN'T CATCH THE VALGRAVE?" I felt a ringing in my ears as I shut off the connection with the cheetah, letting him lose his mind on his own.
I made my way to the road leading to the city. Walking on a road was much less mentally taxing than trying to not fall over roots and having to duck under branches, so I had more mental energy to direct at the class descriptions and their special abilities as I scrolled through. Half an hour later, I decided to check in on my companion.
"So… what should I pick? I think I have decent stats for anything, really, kinda like you." I scratched my chin, setting my eyes on the attributes for him to see. Tiber didn't reply. He didn't want to help the enemy. Yet, he thought… that I was really fucking clueless. You wouldn't think a toddler held any malice towards you because they just did the first thing that came to their mind. So it didn't make sense to hold malice at the baby. I was the baby.
"Hey, Tiber… what do you think Olem reincarnated into?" I asked softly, reassuringly. I didn't know how to heal his anger and sorrow, but I tried to conjure up positive memories of the rabbit using kinempathy.
"He… he said he wanted to be a huge elephant in his next life. Grow out a big belly, become a barbarian, combine the racial effects and class effects to literally stop swords with his fat hide." He chuckled, reminiscing. "He wanted to walk around shirtless like me, he said. Make all the subby fat-loving boys blush. Rabbits, always thinking about sex first."
"I got a taste of that, yeah… weird racial effect."
"So, when Olem was acting all cocky, that was you?"
"Our whole tryst next to the tree was all me, yeah. I had no idea I could get my mind turned just at the stroke of whoever was flirting with me." I nodded.
"Did you like it?"
"Kinda, yeah. Felt good, losing all control for a moment. No offence to your situation."
We stayed silent for a moment. The conversation took an awkward turn.
"What's your racial, Dronoth?" He broke the silence, changing topics.
"How do I find out?"
"Traits. Should be at the bottom, just like you." Tiber was seemingly growing comfortable with his situation. I opened the relevant menu, scrolling down. Reading the name, I sighed. Of course humans have a general-purpose trait. You're so original, God.
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[Jack of All Trades]
Humans are quick to learn and adapt to their environment. Every odd-numbered level up, gain an extra attribute point.
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"That's really good, Dronoth." I heard the cheetah say jealously. "You're going to be really strong if you manage to make it through another dozen levels."
"What's yours?" I asked.
"Right underneath."
I looked at the other feature. Huh, useful, I can read the racial traits of the people I possess.
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[Speed of Sound]
Cheetahs can close large distances in the blink of an eye. Gain +4 DEX. When in combat, you may move twice the regular speed on each turn.
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"Why'd you not focus on making your Dexterity really high, then? You could have, like… 30." I asked.
"Not much point in levelling only one attribute until higher levels. It's about defences. You could have 40 toughness and shrug off literally every physical blow, but if a mage charms you because you don't have any Wisdom, you're fucked. You have to round out because of it."
I nodded, absorbing the information.
"What was Olem's advantage?" I asked.
"He could jerk off whenever and wherever he wanted to." Tiber replied without hesitation. "He also had increased dexterity and improved hearing. Could jump high, too."
Tiber seemed much chipper. Good. I felt better about myself.
"What class should I pick?"
"You seem to be a manipulative piece of shit." His voice took on a graver tone. "You should consider mage, then." He quickly relaxed himself, trying to sound friendly. "You'll have the power for it. They're not good for lone wolf types because they typically don't have the attributes necessary to defend themselves in close combat, but your racial might just help out with that." He shrugged mentally.
Owch. Probably good advice, though.
"Hey, how'd you get a proficiency before even selecting a class?" He asked curiously. "You've got, like, almost the same amount as me."
"Uhh… special ability. Can copy the proficiencies of people I possess. Like three per person or something." I shrugged. I wasn't too sure about how it worked either. Another mental pin was dropped. Tiber expressed that he thought that's busted as fuck.
"What'd you get from me, then?"
"Weapon proficiencies." I said softly. He didn't have to know the whole truth.
Something stirred in the soul. The thought made him… upset? Weirdly, I found it difficult to get a read on him, despite literally being connected to his feelings. I decided to change the subject.
"You get panic attacks often?" I recalled passing out near the tree as my heart felt like it was about to explode. "Probably could've kept Olem alive if your body didn't give up on me."
That was tone-deaf, I found out. The cheetah gave me a growl, pushing in a thought that I shouldn't blame his fucking body for something I started in the first place.
"You try to not experience a panic attack when you've got a stranger melting into your torso as you lose all feeling in your limbs, WHILE the man you're SUPPOSED to be hunting has one of your oldest friends wrapped around his finger. I'm going to have nightmares about it for the rest of my fucking life."
I nodded in understanding. I didn't really think about it from his perspective. Issuing a brief apology, I pressed the monitor button on the screen, hiding the menu from the cat. Something rubbed me the wrong way about how he behaved. I didn't trust him with the knowledge of what my abilities were going to be, seeing as that's half the strength of mages.
Mage it is, I guess. That was a lot of talking to reach the same conclusion I got to yesterday.
Selecting the class, I was reminded that there were too many customisation options that I had to select. It was the build-a-bear equivalent of making what was essentially an entire spellcasting class. I could select my spellcasting attribute, the kind of magic I'd cast, the elements I'd use, the components I'd use, how I'd cast magic… Kind of ridiculous, but the freedom to minmax was welcome. Maybe this was why people didn't like mages, they were too complicated to understand for most people. Especially if they overlooked Knowledge as a valid attribute to select. In my TTRPG days, I was used to people dumping mental characteristics in favour of combat performance. In a world where your mental characteristics literally commanded your mental capabilities, dumping Knowledge seemed shortsighted, but… what do I know.
I could select things in any order, which was convenient. Wish that was an option more often in RPGs. I decided to cover the basics first. Elements… I was allowed to pick just the one at this level. I went with frost, icicle mages looked really cool in MMOs. Since I intended on levelling up knowledge, I selected it as my spellcasting attribute. I went with offensive magic, as well. Had to deal damage to survive.
Components… had to pick three. For any spell I'd have to use at least two, and I'd have to use all three to cast spells at their full power. They were divided into somatic, verbal and material, and I had to pick one from each category.
Verbal components were, well, the loud part pf the casting process. Chanting, incantations, screams, words of power, prayers, poems, songs, etc.
'Words of Power' elicited imagery of screaming 'POSSESSION' and the rest of my moves in advance, warning my opponents of what was going to happen. I didn't want that. Incantations were more secretive, I thought, so I went with those.
Somatic components were the movements involved in casting. Precise movements that commanded the magic to manifest, or something more free-form and chaotic. Hand movements that traced glyphs and magical formulas. Dance-like moves that precisely focused your mana. Flicks of your wand, fucking fighting moves of all things. There was so much shit to pick from.
I sceptically went down through the list of increasingly esoteric ways of casting magic. Nah, I wasn't gonna do any of that shit. I decided to go with something in the style of Avatar. Large gestures. It was always cool to see someone raise their hands up and spring a whole-ass slab of rock from the ground.
Material components. What you had to hold while casting the spell. The choices here were actually meaningful, having their own levels of power, cost and drawbacks. Most tied to what kind of mage you actually were. Cheapest option was to use a wand or some other kind of spellcasting focus, then there were holy symbols and relics, books, weapons, special spellcasting reagents… blood… fuck, you can be a blood mage? Maybe I could have the edgy aesthetic after all.
For the hell of it, I chose blood. I would at least like to take a look at what it unlocked before I changed my mind and went with something more reasonable.
At the end of the "read through options and tick boxes" marathon, there was one final decision to be made. All the choices I made were summed up, giving a handful of mage archetypes for me to choose from, each with their own special ability.
There was the wizard, the kineticist, cryomage, blood mage… there was a fancy-sounding option, actually. Potenskrov, a mage who had elemental blood. Sounded cool. I took a look at the description.
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Potenskrov
With primordial forces flowing through their very veins, the Potenskrov amplify their spells at the cost of their own life force. Whether a result of an accident, curse, blessing, or ritual, your body produces manablood that carries the power of the elements you command.
Special Abilities:
Blood Amplification:
Once per combat, whenever you cast a spell, you may substitute blood for all three components of the spell. This allows you to cast a spell at it's expected power without using verbal or somatic components.
If you cast a spell this way and use somatic and verbal components, the spell is cast at a heightened level.
Rebuke:
Whenever you're attacked with a piercing or slashing attack, the blood that releases from your body strikes back at your opponent. Deal damage equivalent to your spellcasting attribute modifier.
Unstable Blood:
If you're bleeding in combat, your spells grow in strength. All of your spells are cast with Blood Amplification while you're bleeding. Whenever you cast a spell while bleeding, your blood bursts from each one of your wounds and lashes out at nearby foes as if you're using Rebuke.
Elemental Affinity:
You are immune to damage from the elements that you command.
Penalties:
You cannot recover health through restoration magic, potions, herbs and other remedies. You may only recover health by restoring your mana or by taking a rest.
You cannot use any material components other than your own blood.
Losing blood causes you to lose mana. When taking damage from a piercing or slashing attack, lose mana equal to half the damage taken.
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So edgy. Ten out of ten. No competition.
I clicked confirm, feeling… uh, my mind felt fuller as knowledge coalesced within my mind, words of incantations reciting themselves over and over as they quickly became second nature to me. But my blood didn't feel any special. Where are the tinglies, God?
I reached out to Tiber. "Am I supposed to feel any different after picking a class?" The cheetah's voice replied shortly. "Yeah, but based on what I glimpsed from your abilities, I think you need to go back to your original form. I'm a ranger, not a mage."
Oh. Well, that wouldn't happen anytime soon. I didn't want to get into trouble with the cheetah. I closed the class menu. Having grown tired from all the walking, I found cover below a rock formation and laid down to rest. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and-.
It was the afternoon. I didn't even have time to process the… process of falling asleep. It just happened. Holy shit. This was the real power fantasy - getting 8 hours of good sleep right on the spot.
I stretched my body, ate breakfast and went on the road again. No time to waste. The camp must've found out I disappeared hours ago by now. It was two days until I'd arrive at Nordif. I needed a strategy to deal with the cheetah by then.
The day was spent in bored travel. Me and Tiber chatted to one another in short bursts throughout the day, mostly asking each other questions about each other's previous lives. He was especially curious about my experience with RPGs, games of my previous life that seemed eerily similar to the world he inhabited for decades.
By the morning of the next day, I had formed some sort of strategy. I possessed him at around noon, so I would have three or four hours before I'd get kicked out. I could try tiring him out before I got out of his body. How about, uh… going for a jog?...
An hour later, I worked up a little sweat, but there was no exhaustion in any part of my body. Either this cheetah was really athletic, or…
"Hey, do people get tired by running in this world?"
"Hell no. Why would they? Running is much faster than just walking everywhere, imagine if you had to stop for breaks every, like, what would it be, thirty minutes?" He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Well, there goes that plan.
"But I remember getting tired from all the walking." I answered.
"You didn't get tired from walking, you got tired of staying awake. You're on a timer that starts once you wake up."
"So you just don't get tired from physical activity?"
"Until the night anyway, yeah."
Okay. We can try Kinempathy then. I can just avoid combat altogether if I made him amenable to myself. Severing my connection to his soul, I ran for another twenty or thirty minutes. Hell, running in this body felt really fast. Focusing on just the movement of my feet, I shut out the outside world and looked inward.
I tried to plant a suggestion in the cheetah's consciousness. Tiber was cooperative in the last few days, so I thought this would be a nice place to start. "Dronoth has been a good friend these last couple of days." The moment I pushed the thought, though, my whole being shook as I fell to the ground, control of my feet stolen by Tiber, face planting into the ground. With my concentration broken, my arm punched me in the face as my body stood up on its own. I tried to hold onto what little ground I held, but very soon…
Motion. I was flying from his body. My head felt dizzy as I flew for what seemed to be ten fucking meters. By the time I landed and stood up, the cheetah already pulled the scimitar out of the scabbard and was running straight at me. I had maybe a second to think before I would have a blade stuck inside of me.
The cheetah was a much more adept foe. I shared his knowledge of his weapons, so if I could get my hands on his blade, we'd be standing on closer ground. I sidestepped the swing, catching the cheetah by surprise. He expected me to be a little bit slower. So did I, but as instincts kicked in I felt myself faster and nimbler than I'm used to being. Thanks, Heritage.
I had another two seconds before I'd have to dodge another blow. I probably wouldn't luck out with the next one. I'd have to use my combat ability to keep myself safe.
My whole body felt cold as I kept moving away from the cheetah. The sensation was comforting, familiar, right. There was one place, however, that felt a painful rush of warmth. The dagger stuck in my hip, all the way back from Olem striking me with it when I was trying to pin him down to the ground. I tried to pull on the dagger. As I did, I felt like I was cutting against a solid block of ice. Thankfully, I'd managed to pull it out, feeling a rush of power as the wound started leaking light-blue blood.
Tiber looked furious, his scowl radiating sheer contempt as he swung at me again. This blow would connect. To preserve my health, I used Dodgeroll, moving out of the way of the swing as I deftly sprung sideways.
I started getting a feel for how combat worked. He gets a shot, I get a shot. Turn-based, essentially, even though it felt real-time to us. I ran further away from him, my feet carrying me faster than I'm used to as I began chanting a spell from the top of my head. Turning around to face the running cheetah, I pushed the palms of my hands forward.
My body radiated with power. The warmth in my hip subsided as I felt a part of myself drain to cast the spell. With all three components, Blood Amplification supercharged my spell. A large gust of cold wind and snow came from my palms straight at Tiber, obscuring him from my vision temporarily.
When he came back into view, I saw his fluffy body covered in chunks of ice and snow as he was injured and slowed down by the magic. This kept distance between me and his scimitar, for now. Wasting no time, however, the ranger pulled out a hand crossbow. A bolt connected with my shoulder. I screamed in pain, the bolt immediately dislodging from my shoulder as blood poured out of the wound and formed into an icicle, flying straight at the ranger and dealing a little bit of damage, surprising him. That was Rebuke.
A plan formed in my head. With Frostbite, I could keep slowing down the cheetah. With my own amplified speed from Heritage, I could keep moving from his scimitar and chip away at his health. I needed to stay behind cover, though, so that he wouldn't be able to get me with the crossbow. The trees around us would suffice, hopefully. A quick look at my health and mana suggested that I had about 3 or 4 more spells in me, provided I don't take any damage. Here's hoping.
It was my turn. Repeating the movement from before, the gust covered my opponent once more. Quickly consulting a menu that popped up, I saw that this spell couldn't miss. Good. My mind told me that I had another spell, Ice Lance, which was more damaging, but it didn't provide the utility nor offered guaranteed blows.
I wasn't quite sure, but I think I would have just enough damage to kill Tiber before he killed me if I landed all my spells. Finding cover behind a trunk of a tree, I heard a crossbow bolt lodge itself into it. The plan was working.
"I'LL PUT YOU IN THE FUCKING GROUND." Tiber's pained voice came from behind the tree. My turn. I came out of the cover, repeating the same motion as before. It was getting harder to focus my eyes, but the gust still landed as it was supposed to. Using my own blood to fuel spells was really tiring, apparently. The ranger looked like he just got out of a frozen lake, his whole body covered in chunks of ice as his fur stood on edge.
The cheetah's words could only deceive me. His words were wrathful, but his eyes were calm, distant, calculating. He was figuring out a strategy to deal with me. A look at him told me I needed to cast two more spells before he was out of commission, and he would likely only need one blow to finish me off. As I got behind another tree, I noticed that the distance between us was growing shorter.
This time a bolt flew just past my right elbow. I heard an upset groan. As I left cover, the ranger was practically five steps away from me. My heart skipped a beat as I instinctively repeated the motion of the spell, blasting the cold wind straight into his face. I turned and ran away, trying to make distance before-.
I looked behind me. My opponent pounced straight at me to close the little distance that was left between us, tackling me to the ground as he pinned my arms down with his legs, my mouth shut by his hands. This would be it.
"Any last words, puppy? You did fight well." His previously angry face turned soft, content. He wanted to give the impression that he didn't even break a sweat. The cheetah looked like he'd be purring if not for the shards of ice sticking in him. Tiber was fucking with me, of course, because with my mouth shut I couldn't say anything. The man grappled me to prevent me from casting spells. A regular mage needed to provide at least two components for their spells to work. With my hands pinned and mouth shut, I couldn't provide the somatic or verbal components. Even though it was my turn now, he expected me to be completely powerless against him in this scenario.
This is why people disliked fighting mages, my knowledge told me. They had too many varieties, too many quirks and exceptions to the norm. Even in the off-chance that he recognized I was a potenskrov, he didn't remember that I only needed one component. Blood.
Thinking of an ice lance, I willed it to come into being through the power of my blood. It came straight out of my chest, piercing him in the gut. It was proclaimed to be a critical hit, the world logic deeming that the conditions for the blow were perfect. The ranger groaned in pain, still pinning me down. He looked half-dead.
"N-not bad… but now…" He reached for the scimitar, trying to make a swing at me. My turn wasn't finished though. Unstable Blood poured from my wounds. One from the dagger, one from the bolt. The blood coalesced into icicles, flying straight into his chin.
This was enough. His eyes opened wide with shock as the icicles lodged themselves in the base of his muzzle. The scimitar fell out of his hand, landing right next to my head as he fell over to the side. The combat was finished, a flood of notifications proclaiming how fucking lucky I am and all the achievements and level-ups I got. As the combat ended, my wounds closed themselves. I wasn't taking any more damage from the bleeding, but I was literally on the brink of death. I could barely see anything as I felt a flood of exhaustion. I crawled to a nearby tree, starting a short rest as I rested my back against the trunk of a maple. My eyes closed themselves, my consciousness briefly fading.
Half an hour later, I swallowed as I felt some energy starting to come back to me. The body of the ranger was a grim sight. The shards of ice were melting away, revealing shredded, blooded skin and the strands of muscle underneath. Exposed bones, a hole in his stomach left by the lance. A pool of blood underneath him. His expression was still shocked, his eyes staring into the sky.
With a grunt, I walked over to his body and closed his eyelids. I put his arms over his chest, trying to make his dead body look more at-peace.
"I'm really sorry, Tiber. I hope you find Olem in your next life." I apologised to the dead man. He… fuck, he did lie to me, but I understood him completely. I was responsible for the death of his friend. I tore him away from his friends, took over his body, tried to change his personality… I would've done the same.
It was terrifying, too, to see the body I walked in mere hours ago, dead. It felt like I was killing myself, in a weird way.
I needed to get to Nordif. If I ran, I'd make it there today.
It felt wrong, but I had to loot Tiber. I took the hand crossbow, the scimitar, the scabbard for the scimitar, and slowly removed the backpack from his body as I rotated him. Pulling a spare change of clothes out of the backpack, I changed into an unblooded white cotton shirt and some brown pants. Generic, but that was fine. Rolling up the sleeves, I returned Tiber to his "resting" position and continued to make my way along the road, starting a run as my thoughts lingered anxiously on the events of the last several days. Fuck you, God, this wasn't very fun.