The orange hue of the setting sun bled through the cracks in the hut’s walls, painting the floor in long, amber stripes. Scott sat up with a groan, his joints popping like dry kindling. The short rest had done wonders for his stamina, but his skin still felt tight from the raw power humming in his veins.
With a thought, he summoned his notifications. The system screens flickered in his mind's eye, a long list of rewards waiting to be acknowledged.
**
Scott stared at the floating interface, the 50 free stat points glowing like gold coins. He knew where those were going later, but the Level 60 Ability selection caught his full attention.
He could only choose two.
[Enhanced Mana Regeneration(Epic)]
Requires active focus on the user's respiratory rhythm. When engaged, this technique forcibly expands the user's internal mana channels, allowing them to absorb dense atmospheric energy at an exponentially accelerated rate.
[Improved Fire Shield(Epic)]
Conjures a dense, multi-layered mana ward around the user. This advanced barrier actively absorbs and disperses all forms of thermal energy, granting massive resistance to both environmental extremes and direct, high-tier fire attacks.
[Shadow Storage(Epic)]
Opens a localized pocket dimension within the user's shadow. While capacity is limited to essential gear, stored items are utterly undetectable by physical search, mana-sight, or magical probing.
[Smokescreen(Epic)]
Instantly detonates a massive, blinding field of smoke. It strips attackers of their vision and tracking abilities, guaranteeing the user the upper hand to either vanish into the shadows or strike unseen.
[Mana Shield (Legendary)]
Forging a barrier of pure mana has become as instinctual as breathing. This legendary ward weaves a flawless, near-impenetrable defense with a vastly extended duration, all while requiring only a fraction of the original mana cost to sustain.
“Even though I have seen this before it doesn't surprise me that it has come back up again since I have been playing with mana shields a lot lately.” Scott thought. “The system is nothing but thorough when it comes to the skills I have been learning.”
“Well after looking them all over I believe I am going to go with [Mana Shield (Legendary)] [Improved Fire Shield(Epic)]
[Gravitational Flight (Unique)]
With the use of gravity, you can now fly freely, using way less mana than before. Though you can fly faster by feeding more mana into the ability.
~
[Gravitational Flight Enhanced (Unique)]
Forged through relentless practice and mastery over gravitational forces, this evolution drastically reduces the foundational mana cost of flight. Base aerial velocity is permanently heightened, and the user can still forcefully inject mana into the field to achieve devastating, supersonic speeds.
[Advanced Beast Mode Speed Form(Unique)]-
This form allows the user to grow skinnier and more agile. This form also lowers your strength and increases your speed drastically making you a harder target to hit.
~
[Advanced Beast Mode: Speed Form (Legendary)]
By shedding excess bulk, the user’s musculature compresses into a hyper-streamlined, agile frame. Overcoming previous limitations, this legendary metamorphosis retains maximum physical strength while explosively multiplying movement speed, turning the user into a blindingly fast, near-untouchable predator.
[Ghost Skin(Rare)]
The use of this skill improves your dodging in a different manner. This skill allows the user to phase through objects without being harmed but costs a bit of mana each time.
~
[Ghost Skin (Epic)]
Through relentless practice, the user's evasive movements have evolved into true intangibility. This skill allows the body to safely phase through solid objects and incoming attacks. Activating this skill to forcefully phase out of a physical grapple or restraint is possible, but requires a massive expenditure of mana to break the hold.
[Beast Mode(Rare)(10%)]
Your body grows slightly stronger and more beast-like as you take on more of a beast shape, making your skin slightly thicker and your legs slightly faster for the hunt. But after the effect is done, you are exhausted for 10 minutes.
~
[Beast Mode (Epic) (15%)]
The beast within is no longer just an instinct; it has become your nature. Activating this form forces a partial morphological shift, hardening the skin into a durable hide and restructuring the legs for explosive, predatory speed. Pushing the anatomy to these feral limits comes at a cost, inflicting severe physical backlash and leaving the user utterly exhausted for 15 minutes after deactivation.
[Surging Speed(Rare)]
With the wind in your hair and time on your side. Your movement is sped up for a short time, but the use of stamina is taxing with this ability.
~
[Surging Speed (Epic)]
With the wind in your hair and time on your side, this ability grants a massive, sustained burst of momentum. The user's movement speed is drastically accelerated for an extended duration, all while heavily mitigating the stamina drain normally caused by such intense physical exertion.
“Well that's a defiant improvement.” Scott mused. "Definitely not normal for a wolf to have those abilities, but who am I to complain about such awesome gifts from the system."
[Ghost Skin(Epic)]
[Health Regeneration Greater (Epic)]
[Mana Shield (Legendary)]
[Improved Fire Shield(Epic)]
Leatherworking Skills-
[Stat increase Leatherworking(Unique)]
[Fur Gear enhanced Cold(Rare)]
[Bedroll Enhanced Healing (Unique)]
[Skinning Enhancement (Rare)]
[First kill in tutorial]
[Den Mother]
[Hero(5%)]
[Dungeon Lord(10%)]
[The first Beastkin]
“Well after looking at all of the new upgrades, I really need to use [Mark of Prey(Rare)], [Dagger Mastery(Uncommon)], [Short bow Mastery(Uncommon)], [Advanced Mana Healing(Rare)], [Bloodline:(Nature of the Beast(Uncommon)(15%)], [Mana Savant(Rare)10% Mana Pool], [Short Sword mastery(Rare)]
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Ok that's enough for one day I need a break. But it is cool to see what the max level is and each ranking in between.” Scott mused.
[Great sword of the Soul Gatherer(Unique)]
This sword when used to slay collects the soul of the dead and stores it into the blade. Once the blade has grown in power by collecting enough souls you will unlock more abilities in the blade the swords first ability separates into two separate short swords. 0/100 Souls collected.
1.Twin blades, 1/5 Unlocked.
sword
“Ok daddy needs a new pair of pants.” Scott said.
Opening up the last chest Scott found.
[Nine Tails (Ancient)]
Bestows the user with nine ethereal, azure tails that drift like phantom flames. While permanently visible to the host, they remain hidden from the physical world, appearing to others only within the mana spectrum. These spectral appendages are completely intangible—impervious to all damage and incapable of physically grasping objects. However, they passively act as an aerodynamic counterbalance, slightly improving the user's stability at extreme speeds. Grants nine instances of absolute resurrection. Upon fatal injury, one tail is permanently extinguished, instantly returning the user to life with fully restored health. 9/9
“These must be gifts for helping Nyxrah break out of the dungeon, even though I don't see the connection with the dungeon. If only I can get a pair of nice leather pants that are comfy? That would be nice.” Scott laughed.
“Well I better not waste the gifts, even though they seem a little over powered. Maybe this is a sign that there is trouble coming and I need all the help I can get. Eh, who knows.” Scott continued into a spiral of theories before he added the sword to his back and absorbed the nine tails. Scott shifted his sight until he could see the mana spectrum and saw the Nine ghostly tails appeared behind him swaying back and forth.
“So cool,” Scott said.
A knock on the door was heard and Galleon walked in.
“What's cool?” Galleon asked.
“Oh some new skills, and new weapons.” Scott said.
“Very nice, well dinner and the arena is ready if you would like to come.” Galleon winked.
“I'll be there!” Scott said.
“You're the first fight.” Galleon said. “Against me of course.”
“Ok, you better bring it.” Scott said.
“You don't worry, I will.” Galleon said walking out the door.
Scott got dressed and brought out his weapons. He pulled out a flaming short sword and looked it over, “This is the weapon I will trade in.” Scott said. Equipping the rest of his gear. He left his hut and headed over to where the crew sat around a large platform.
“Put your gear on this table.” Avery said.
Scott set the sword down and walked up to the platform. Galleon stood adjacent to Scott holding his pistol.
Scott rested his hand on the hilt of one of his short swords and waited for the cue. Jean stepped forward and spoke the rule. “Ok you guys, no killing or cutting off of heads. Body parts can be grown back. You either win by beating your opponent unconscious, knocking them out of the ring or by your opponent admitting defeat and forfeit. Are you ready?”
Both Scott and Galleon nodded, before Jean started counting down “3…2..1. go.” Jean said. Scott sprinted forward and marked Galleon to give him the upper hand. With one swing of Scott's blade, Galleon's hand along with the pistol fell to the ground.
The crowd didn't even have time to cheer. One moment, Jean shouted "Go," and the next, Scott was standing behind Galleon, his blade clean. Galleon’s flintlock hit the floor, followed shortly by the hand that had been holding it.
A stunned silence gripped the clearing.
"I yield! I forfeit!" Galleon barked, his face pale but his voice surprisingly steady for a man who had just been disarmed—literally.
Jean rushed forward, her hands already glowing with a potent white light. She pressed the severed limb back against the stump, the [Advanced Mana Healing]
Galleon flexed his newly reattached hand wiggling his fingers, looking up at Scott with a mix of awe and genuine fear. “That was quick, Scott. Too quick. You really have a talent for this... or you've become a monster.”
Jean stood up, wiping sweat from her brow. She stepped back to the center of the ring, her voice slightly shaky. “Winner: Scott Wheaton. Next contestant... Sue Accords.”
The crowd’s murmuring was hushed as Sue stepped onto the platform. She was a capable fighter, but as she took her stance, the air around Scott seemed to grow heavy.
With his [Perception][Mark of Prey]
Scott didn't draw his sword this time. He just stood there, the torches casting shadows of his horns and large body over her.
“Sue,” Scott said, his voice low and vibrating with the resonance of his [Nature of the Beast]
He didn't mean it as an insult. He could feel the sheer pressure of his own presence—the Iota
[Human Sorcerer (Level 30)]
Sue stood opposite him, her deep red hair pulled back in a practical knot. Despite her frail appearance and the lines of age on her face, her eyes were steady. She gripped a pair of rusted daggers with the white-knuckled intensity of someone who had survived the tutorial on grit alone.
“I shall,” Sue said, her voice thin but resolute.
“Alright,” Scott agreed softly.
He didn't drop into a stance. To his eyes, she was moving in a different time zone.
“3… 2… 1… GO!”
The word hadn't even finished echoing off the hull of the before Scott was standing within her reach. He hadn't used a skill; his base Agility was simply too high for her brain to process. He held the edge of his short sword a fraction of an inch from her jugular.
“Yield?” he asked.
Sue froze. A single bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, tracking a path toward the cold steel of Scott’s blade. She didn't even see him move. The sheer realization of the gap between them hit her like a physical weight.
“I... I yield,” Sue whispered, lowering her daggers.
Scott stepped back, sheathing his blade in a fluid motion. The silence in the clearing was heavy until Robert stood up. The crew, desperate for a comeback—or at least a fight they could actually see—erupted into cheers.
“Let’s go, Rob! Take him down!”
Robert was a shorter man with messy brown hair and thick, calloused hands. He didn't look like a legendary warrior, but the way he stepped onto the platform suggested a high Strength or Toughness build. He started cracking his knuckles and stretching his fingers, a focused, hungry look in his eyes.
Jean stepped back into the center, looking tired. She glanced at Robert, then at Scott, who was standing perfectly still.
“Ready?” Jean asked.
“Ready,” Robert replied, his voice a low growl of anticipation.
“Ready,” Scott said. He decided right then: he’d let this one go on a little longer. He needed to see what the "fighters" of the crew could actually do—and he needed to practice his [Mana Shield]
Scott began to close the gap, but Robert wasn't a simple brawler. With a sharp grunt, Robert ignited a swirling vortex of fire, flinging it around his body like a chaotic, defensive cloak. The heat was intense, but Scott simply activated his [Mana Shield]
Instead of backing off, Scott dropped into a low slide. As he passed Robert’s flank, his fingers flickered. He didn't strike; he attached [Mana Strings]—thin, gravitational anchors—to Robert’s heels. With a sharp, practiced yank, Scott tripled the gravity on Robert’s back feet.
Robert flipped forward with a startled shout. His defensive fireball tore loose, streaking harmlessly into the sky above the crowd, and he slammed face-first into the wooden platform.
Before the dust could settle, Scott was standing over him, the tip of his blade resting against the nape of Robert’s neck.
“Do you yield?” Scott asked.
Robert stayed pinned to the wood for a moment, then let out a long, heavy sigh. “I do,” he grumbled. He rolled over and looked up at Scott, his eyes narrowed as if trying to focus on something just out of reach. “But not because I’m afraid, Scott. It’s because the gap is just too damn high.”
He gestured vaguely at the space above Scott’s head. “I can’t even read your level anymore. All the System is giving me is a row of stars. You’re a ghost to us.”
Scott blinked, surprised. He focused his own [Perception]
[Human Wizard (Level 30)]
“I guess you’re right,” Scott said, reaching down to help Robert up. “I’m double your level. I figured you, of all people, would have pushed further by now.”
“In due time,” Robert said, brushing the soot off his clothes. He gave Scott a knowing, slightly mischievous smile. “But I wouldn’t worry about me. You’ve got Leann next.”
He walked off the stage, slapping a high-five into Leann’s palm as they swapped places. “Get him, Leann. Make him work for it.”
Leann stepped onto the platform, her movements fluid and athletic. She went through a series of high kicks, her boots whistling through the air, before bouncing on her toes in a classic fighter’s rhythm. She wasn't just a fighter; she was an athlete, a martial artist and her focus on Scott was absolute.
“Ready?” Jean asked, her eyes moving to Leann.
Leann gave a sharp nod, her gaze locked onto Scott’s center of mass.
“Ready,” Scott replied, feeling the nine invisible tails sway behind him, sensing the air around Leann. She felt... different. Faster than the others.
Scott scanned Leann…..
[Human Warrior (level 50)]
“Finally,” Scott murmured, his eyes sharpening. “Someone who can actually make me move.”
Leann didn't wait for a formal countdown; she began her own, her voice clipped and focused. “3… 2… 1… GO!
She was a blur of motion. Unlike the others, her kicks didn't just have speed—they had weight. Scott blocked the first three strikes, his forearms stinging from the impact, but Leann was relentless. She transitioned from a low sweep to a high snap-kick with impossible fluidity. One strike slipped past Scott’s guard, catching him squarely on the chin.
The impact snapped Scott’s head back. Leann instantly vaulted away, landing in a low crouch at the edge of the ring, watching him with narrowed eyes to see if he’d go down.
Scott rolled his shoulders and let out a short, sharp laugh. He reached up, cracked his neck, and felt the [Nature of the Beast]
He lunged. This time, brought the pressure. His kicks were powered by the [Boots of the Angel]
She didn't hesitate. She sprinted back at him, launched into a flying jump kick, but Scott was ready. He stepped inside her arc, caught her mid-air by the ankle, and slammed her into the boards with a bone-jarring thud.
Leann rolled with the impact, coming up slowly. As she moved, two hidden blades slid from her belt into her palms. She didn't stand; she stayed low, rolling toward him like a coiled spring throwing a dagger toward his foot.
Scott’s instincts screamed as he phased through the attack.
The dagger passed through his ankle as if he were made of smoke piercing the platform. He stepped back, his twin swords finally clearing their sheaths with a metallic . “Playing with steel now? Fine.”
She attacked again—a kick to the head followed by a wicked horizontal slash as she picked up the second blade. Scott parried both, the ring of steel on steel echoing through the silent clearing. He dodged a spinning back-kick that whistled past his nose, then moved in for the finish.
He faked a right front-kick, and as Leann shifted her weight to counter, he pivoted into a lightning-fast side-kick. It threw her completely off-balance. Before she could reset, Scott jumped, his left leg snapping out in a front-kick that caught her square in the chest, sending her flying back toward the torches.
He landed lightly, but he felt a sharp, hot sting. He looked down. His new midnight-blue trousers were torn, and a line of crimson was beginning to soak the fabric.
She’d gotten him.
Scott tasted copper in the back of his throat as he pushed himself up. Leann was on him again instantly, a storm of kicks that forced him into a desperate block. She caught his lead foot, tripping him, but Scott used the momentum to flip backward, narrowly avoiding a heel-drop to his ribs—though a follow-up kick caught him square in the chest, knocking the wind from his lungs.
“Seems like you’re growing weak, Scott,” Leann panted, her eyes glowing with the thrill of the hunt.
“Nah,” Scott said, wiping a smear of blood from his lip. He stood up straight, his posture shifting. “To be honest, I’ve been taking it easy on you. I wanted to see what a Level 50 was capable of.”
Leann bristled, her daggers spinning in her grip. “What? Don't hold back! Give me your all!”
“I can’t,” Scott said, his voice dropping an octave. “Some of my abilities are meant for demons, Leann. They’d kill you. I’ll stick with my human form for now.”
“Give it to me!” she commanded, stepping forward. “I can take it!”
Scott looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. “Okay. You asked for it.”
The transformation was violent. His spine elongated with a series of wet pops, his muscles leaning out until they were like coiled steel cables. Long, obsidian claws slid from his fingertips and toes. His face distorted, his jaw pushing out into a predatory muzzle filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth. When he opened his eyes, the irises were a burning, blood-red.
“Happy?” he asked, the words coming out as a distorted, guttural rasp.
Leann hesitated for a fraction of a second, her confidence wavering as the air temperature seemed to drop around the beast. “Good... now attack me.”
She never saw him move.
To the crowd, Scott didn't run; he simply ceased to exist in one spot and reappeared in another. He unleashed a barrage of kicks so fast they sounded like a single, continuous roar of impact. Leann had no time to block, no time to breathe. Her defense shattered instantly. Her body was battered, bruised, and sent skidding across the wood before she finally collapsed.
“I... yield,” Leann grunted, her voice thick with pain as she dragged her bloody frame off the boards.
“Sorry,” Scott said, his form melting back into his human shape. He reached out a hand to help her.
Leann didn't take it. She pushed herself up with trembling arms, gave him a look of profound respect—and a hint of fear—and limped toward Jean. “Good fight,” she managed to choke out.
Jean cleared her throat, her eyes wide as she looked at her clipboard, then at the bench. “Avery... Avery vs. Scott.”
All eyes turned to the table. Avery sat there, frozen, his hand halfway to a piece of roasted meat. He looked at the blood on the stage, looked at Scott’s white horns, and slowly started shaking his head.
“No,” Avery mouthed, his eyes wide. “Absolutely not.”
“Avery? Are you coming up?” Jean called out again.
“No. Not after what I just saw,” Avery replied, clutching his plate as if it were a shield. “I’m a cook, not a suicide volunteer.”
“Fair enough,” Jean sighed, checking her clipboard. “Next up is... let me see... oh, here we are. Marvin Rivers.”
At the edge of the firelight, Marvin finished his drink and set the mug down with a heavy . He stood, the firelight glinting off the polished plates of his heavy armor. The rhythmic sound of steel-on-steel followed him as he stepped onto the platform. He was a tall man, his white hair cropped short, a confident grin stretching across his face as he adjusted his sword and heavy heater shield.
“May the best man win,” Marvin said, pulling his visor down. His voice echoed metallically from inside the helm.
“Agreed,” Scott replied, resetting his stance. “May the best man win.”
Jean looked between the tank and the predator. “Ready?” Both men nodded. “3… 2… 1… GO!
Marvin didn’t charge. He knew better. He dropped into a deep crouch, his shield locked tight against his shoulder and his sword peeking over the rim—a fortress of steel.
Scott began to pace, his eyes narrowed as he looked for a seam in the defense. He tested the waters first, launching a lightning-fast front kick against the center of the shield. The wood and metal groaned, and Marvin skidded back a foot, but his posture remained unbroken. The man was a mountain.
Scott thought.
Scott began to circle, gaining momentum, his feet blurring against the wooden planks. Just as he reached terminal velocity, he didn't just strike—he evolved.
[Skill Activated: Beast Mode (Epic)][Skill Activated: Gravity Control (50% Increase)]
In mid-air, Scott’s body surged with bulk, his muscles swelling with primal power. He focused his gravity into his lead leg, turning his foot into a falling anvil.
BOOM.
The sound was like a cannon shot. The wooden platform cracked under the pressure of the launch. Marvin didn’t just slide—he was launched. He cleared the edge of the arena, sailed through the night air, and slammed into the hull of the with a sickening metallic before thudding into the dirt.
A cloud of dust settled. Marvin lay there for a long moment before his armored arm began to twitch. He groaned, fumbling with his visor as he sat up, his shield dented inward.
“Ow...” Marvin’s voice drifted back toward the torches, high-pitched and pained. “You didn’t have to hit me hard, Scott! I think I left a Marvin-shaped dent in the ship!”
Scott walked down off of the platform grabbing Marvin's discarded shield and drink off of the table. He held both items in one hand and outstretched his other and helped Marvin to his feet, handing him back his dented shield and a fresh mug of ale.
“You're a good man, Scott. Cheers,” Marvin wheezed, offering a pained but genuine toast before limping back to the benches.
Scott stepped back onto the blood-stained wood of the platform. He felt the mana humming in his horns, stabilized and ready.
“Next up,” Jean announced, her voice slightly tight. “JJ Crow vs. Scott.”
“I guess I’ll give it a shot,” JJ said. He was a lean man, his blonde hair partially obscured by a dark hood. He held a recurve bow with a practiced grip. Back in the old world, JJ had been a master of disc golf—famous for his accuracy and "flick" shots. Seeing him with a bow made Scott’s pulse quicken. This was the first ranged specialist he’d faced tonight.
Jean went through the formalities. “Ready?”
JJ notched an arrow, his eyes narrowing. “Ready.”
“Ready,” Scott said, dropping into a relaxed crouch.
“3… 2… 1… GO!
JJ was fast. He didn't just fire; he . Arrow after arrow whistled through the air in a blur of fletching. Even in his base form, Scott had to twist and weave to avoid being pinned.
Scott thought.
[Skill Activated: Advanced Beast Mode Speed Form (Legendary)]
The world didn't just slow down; it practically stopped. Scott watched as the next arrow left JJ’s bowstring. He could see the shaft vibrating, the feathers spinning to stabilize the flight. He danced between the projectiles, dodging left and right with a predatory grace that defied physics.
As he reached JJ, he reached out and plucked the final arrow right out of the air by its shaft. Before JJ could even register that Scott had closed the gap, Scott swung the arrow down, burying the tip in JJ’s thigh.
With a blur of motion, Scott’s hands moved like a sewing machine. He snatched the remaining arrows from JJ’s quiver and planted them—not deep enough to kill, but deep enough to stick—into JJ’s shoulders, arms, and legs.
Scott stepped back, his transformation bleeding away into his human form.
JJ took one step forward, looked down at the dozen arrows sprouting from his limbs like a human pincushion, and let out a shaky gasp. He fell to his knees, his bow clattering to the deck.
“That’s... not cool, man,” JJ wheezed, his face pale. “I forfeit.”
Jean rushed onto the stage, her hands already glowing with healing light. She began pulling the arrows out with practiced efficiency, closing the puncture wounds as she went. She shot Scott a look of genuine annoyance. “Did you have to be so rough, Scott? He’s a scout, not a pincushion!”
“Sorry,” Scott said, rubbing the back of his neck as the adrenaline began to cool. “I just thought it’d be poetic to use his own arrows against him. I didn't mean to go that overboard.”
Jean didn't look convinced. She helped a limping, bandaged JJ off the platform and toward the stands. When she climbed back up, her expression was different—more intense. She looked at the crowd, then at the man standing by the weapon rack.
“Here is the second-to-last fight,” Jean announced, her voice ringing out with a new edge. “Norman vs. Scott.”
The stairs groaned under heavy footsteps as Norman approached. He was a mountain of a man—six-foot-one and three hundred pounds of solid, tutorial-hardened muscle. His dirty blonde hair was cut into a defiant mullet that swayed as he stepped into the torchlight. He carried a long, iron-tipped spear, the shaft thick enough to be a mast.
He slammed the butt of the spear into the wooden boards with a CRACK
Jean walked over to Norman, leaning in close. “Teach him a lesson, Norman,” she whispered loud enough for Scott’s enhanced hearing to catch. She turned back to the center. “Ready?”
Norman adjusted his grip on the spear, a wicked, toothy grin spreading across his face. He nodded once.
“Ready?” Jean looked at Scott.
Scott closed his eyes for a heartbeat, centering the mana in his core. He felt the invisible tails sway behind him, tasting the scent of sweat and iron in the air. He didn't draw his swords yet. He just opened his eyes—now glowing with a faint, predatory light—and nodded. “Yes.”
“3… 2… 1… GO!
