[You have acquired the Class Skill: Weak Telekinesis]

  The true art of witchcraft is diving deep into what actually interests you. And this interested me.

  “Telekinesis?” Artemis said.

  She was looking at Luke’s screen through his thoughts. One of the perks, according to her, of having an E-Rank soul. To him, it felt more like a curse. Especially because she could also push images back into his mind. And every time he let her, she made a point of flashing inappropriate images while laughing about it.

  Luke focused on Telekinesis. He could feel the knowledge settle in. A new way to shape mana. It was as if he were spreading it through the air around him, extending himself outward.

  He took a throwing knife from its sheath and placed it on the ground in front of him. Luke imagined an invisible hand reaching for the knife and tried to lift it. At first, it felt heavy. Oppressive. He had to concentrate, feeding mana into the idea of unseen hands gripping the object.

  Then, suddenly, the knife rose into the air and drifted straight into his palm.

  “It worked!”

  He stared at his hand and focused again. The throwing knife floated above his palm, shaking at first, then slowly stabilizing.

  Excitement surged through him.

  Luke pulled more throwing knives from his sheath and poured his focus into the skill. He felt mana flow through his ring and interact with the air itself. Five knives rose around him. Some hovered steadily. Others trembled and dropped back toward the ground.

  “I think it’s a matter of visualization and focus,” he muttered. “Probably tied to Willpower.”

  Attribute points weren’t just numbers. Understanding them meant understanding a piece of reality. Not the world itself, but how he, as an individual, interacted with his body and his surroundings.

  It felt strange. Like trying to walk in two opposite directions at once. But he managed it. All five knives floated around him, gliding through the air, shifting positions on their own. He imagined throwing them. They lurched forward. Slowly. Very slowly.

  Attacking with telekinesis wasn’t viable. At least not yet.

  “It’s like learning the bow,” he said quietly. “At first, drawing an arrow, setting it, pulling the string took forever. Later, the whole process barely took a second.”

  He tested the skill while walking, making the knives orbit him as he moved. Then he focused on the campfire, trying to tug at one of the logs. It resisted at first, but eventually one shifted, sliding out of the flames while still burning.

  “Okay, Jean Grey,” Artemis said. “Can you do that with your dick? Like… to pee?”

  “Do you ever think about anything else?” Luke shot back. Then he froze. “Wait. You might actually have a point.”

  “About your dick?”

  “No, idiot. About moving parts of my own body. Like lifting my foot. Making myself float.”

  He tried.

  Nothing.

  The invisible force of telekinesis didn’t even brush against his skin or his clothes.

  “Looks like it only works on objects.”

  Luke lowered his hand, then raised it again. The knives followed the motion perfectly. Guiding it with his hand felt easier. After all, magic was channeled through them. And he could tell his right hand handled the telekinesis better. That was the hand wearing the ring.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  ***

  They kept their distance from the bandits’ camp, watching to see if anyone else would show up. Luke set up only his own tent. The day was already well along, and he wanted to rest so he could enter the rift at full strength. Depending on where it spat him out, things could get dangerous fast.

  Lying on his back, he tested his telekinesis while staring at the ceiling of the tent. Several throwing knives floated above him, suspended in the air. Then he heard something.

  His alertness spiked instantly, but it was only Charlie.

  “Are you awake, Master Luke?”

  “I am, Charlie. Did something happen?” He watched her sit down beside him.

  “Can I ask you… a personal question?”

  “You can.”

  “I know I put off this conversation. But… there’s something I need to know first. Do you… like anyone romantically?”

  The question caught him off guard. She was serious, though her voice was shy, her eyes avoiding his. Luke sat up and realized just how close she was. Charlie smelled good. Fresh. Like she had just bathed.

  Did she use some kind of soap or perfume she bought in the city?

  “I… don’t like anyone like that, Charlie,” he said.

  She moved closer. “Really? Really, truly? No one, Master Luke?”

  He did not want to be blunt, but she had been direct with him. “Romantically? No.”

  I think…

  She stepped even closer, close enough that the pleasant scent filled his senses completely.

  “Th-then… stay that way. You can’t like anyone except m-… I mean, I wouldn’t like it if you liked someone else. But if that ever happens, you can tell me.”

  “Okay…” He had no idea how to respond to that.

  “A-and… I want to confess something too,” she said, covering her face with both hands.

  “What…?” he asked.

  “I like watching you sleep, Master Luke. And… I haven’t been able to do that much since I became a vampire. I used to do it all the time when I didn’t have real eyes and was just a skeleton. Now that I finally have a body… I almost never get to.” Her face turned red. “C-can I do that… sometimes?”

  “You can…” He could not bring himself to say no.

  Why is talking about this harder than fighting enemies?

  ***

  In the morning, Charlie seemed more energetic, even with the sun overhead making her uncomfortable. She wore her full armor, including the helmet, which helped dull the irritation.

  “How do I look with my new equipment?” Angie asked, showing herself off.

  “It looks good, Angie. A bit of a mix, black wolf-leather gear, dark green crocodile chestplate, and a silver helmet. But what matters is that it protects you,” Luke replied.

  Charlie stopped beside him and pointed at her own armor. “What about me, Master Luke?”

  “Yes, you’re also well dressed. With… the same… armor as always,” he said, searching for words.

  She beamed at the compliment.

  “I behaved myself and didn’t interrupt the conversation you two had last night, Luke. See? I can be mature.”

  Quiet.

  “Dodging the subject like always. You’re going to have to admit it sooner or later.”

  Admit what?

  “That you have a wife. This arc of your life, Team Charlie is way ahead on points.”

  Team Charlie?

  “Yeah. I ranked all your relationship routes and ships. I even included Eleanor and some disposable side characters from Haven.”

  My life is not entertainment.

  “Your life is literally my entertainment.”

  They stopped before the rift and stepped through together, each of them holding a weapon, ready for whatever waited on the other side.

  The moment Luke crossed the threshold, the world shifted. One step later, he emerged somewhere else entirely, standing beside Charlie. They had entered another dimension.

  They stood in the middle of a forest.

  “We need to stay alert.”

  Luke scanned the area, then lifted his gaze to the sky. It was crimson, choked with dark, rolling clouds. When he looked back toward where they had come from, he understood exactly what Greta had meant.

  “So there really is no easy way out.”

  That was the problem with rifts. There was only a single exit in the entire dimension, and he had no idea where it was.

  “My interface just opened, my lord,” Angie said.

  At the same time, Luke’s did as well.

  Dimensional Rift: Temple of the Demon Blacksmith

  Ages ago, a blacksmith from the Spectral Demon tribe reached the pinnacle of his craft within his clan. Before vanishing, he left behind four weapons forged by his own hands, scattered throughout this dimension as minor treasures. Each one serves as a key leading toward the hidden temple where his masterpiece rests.

  But only one deemed worthy may open the temple. To inherit his legacy, one must answer the riddle the master smith left behind:

  “Among the four weapons I created… which one holds my true treasure?”

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