Owlbear

In a single instant, I mastered three skills: the water-attribute spell Flow, the ice-attribute spell Freezing, and the lightning-attribute spell Shock.

Streams of water began to obey my will without the slightest lag. I could freeze anything within a fifty-meter radius at a whim, and the lightning itself had become something I could shape exactly as I pleased.

Like this.

Bzzzzzt!

I set my hand lightly on the surface of the water. Lightning tore from my palm in a violent surge and raced outward along the current—but this was nothing like the first time. Instead of spilling wherever it liked, the charge stretched precisely where I directed it, and its destination was the pair of trolls charging straight at me.

"Grrraaaagh!"

"Krrrghk!"

They hadn't expected the lightning at all. Convulsions wracked both bodies; white steam burst off their skin, and in the next heartbeat their frames shriveled and collapsed into the water with a heavy splash. The current must have been too fierce. Even their regeneration was useless. Neither of them ever got back up.

"...This is way stronger than I thought."

The force was beyond any comparison with the first time I'd cast Fireball, a basic skill of the same tier. Then again, it was obvious once I thought about it. Back then I'd been level 20. Now I was 120, and both my skill control and my combat experience sat on an entirely different plane. Comparing the two had been pointless from the start.

Cleared in a flash. I headed straight for the skill merchant.

"What the—?"

The same man who'd been thrown off when I bought skills in bulk. This time his eyes went wide as saucers.

"You already cleared it and came back?"

The reward for clearing Floor 6 of the Tower: the Fire series had opened.

The price, though, looked anything but ordinary.

I ran back through the fire skills I'd learned so far. Fireball, for burning—a basic skill, zero points. Flame Burst, for explosion—1,000 points. Crimson Flame, for expansion—5,000 points. Holy Fire, for purification—4,400 points. The last of them, Crucible, handled melting. Literally the ability to melt something down. It wasn't useless, but it was certainly no combat spell.

Do I really need to pay this much to learn it?

Before, mastering the Fire series had been mandatory. The Cursed Heart had done away with that. Even if I never mastered it, I could still pick up skills from other series.

That was when it happened. As if he'd read the hesitation straight off me, the Hispanic merchant let out a thin little laugh.

"Just learn it and see. Series magic is something you always master. I'm telling you."

I met his eyes for a moment. The smug little grin was irritating, but the man was more capable than I'd given him credit for. Hadn't he caught on the instant I showed up wearing the Cursed Heart? Trusting him once might not be the worst idea. Maybe.

"You're not just trying to unload something expensive on me, are you?"

"Do I look like you?"

Even the comeback was obnoxious. Still, I decided to trust him this once—swearing that if he scammed me now, I would never believe him again.

I couldn't raise the level right away. Melting just anything didn't grant experience. From what I knew, you only gained it by properly melting mana-infused resources or equipment under specific conditions.

I looked over the skills that came next. I'd been quietly tense, but fortunately it was exactly as I'd expected. Thanks to the Telekinesis skill I'd casually mastered back at the hotel, my mastered skills now totaled seven. I'd just learned Crucible, which meant I could currently pick up six new ones. Laid out like that, it hit me all over again how broken an item the Cursed Heart really was.

...Of course, the drawback was every bit as broken.

So in the end, as long as I have the points, I can learn as many skills as I want...?

Of course, everything the skill merchant offered was only a basic skill. Higher skills could be obtained ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠solely through skill books, and the ways to get those were limited. You gambled for them from an alchemist, or you dumped an obscene amount of real-world money into a purchase.

Ah. Quests would probably work too. Though if the reward was a high-rank skill book, you'd be staking your life on it.

Part of me wanted to take a single series all the way to the end, but some restriction made that impossible. With attribute skills, you could only learn them step by step, starting from the lower ones.

Earth, Wind, Water, Ice, Lightning, Holy. Six skills acquired. My points were nearly wiped out because of it, but even so, I was more than satisfied.

Disbelief washed over the skill merchant's face.

"What kind of lunatic...?"

"Thanks for the help."

I slipped out before the hunters around us could turn their attention on me, and made it to a quiet edge of the lobby. After a moment's thought, I headed for the Labyrinth.

The drain on Floor 6 had been lighter than I'd expected. On top of that, I'd leveled all the way to 120. By feel alone, it was a completely different league from level 20. Thanks to that, the Labyrinth looked manageable up to a certain point.

I'd already decided where I was going.

"Thank you for your devotion to the nation."

I gave the officer on duty a light bow and entered the Labyrinth. Unlike before, I turned north. Today I meant to mark a portal.

"Looking for anyone heading to Zone 1 to mark the portal!"

"Rewards are generous—please, we need portal runners...!!"

I'd only been moving north a short while when recruitment calls started flying from every direction. This was the so-called Portal Zone.

A portal: a dimensional gate linking one space to another. Mark one once, and a portal map was generated. After that, every time you passed through a portal, you could travel to any location you chose. There was nothing to fault in its usefulness, and how far you'd marked your portals was itself proof of skill. If you wanted, you could even display the number and locations of your portals across the back of your hand. I'd heard it was excellent for showing off.

Step. Step.

I walked straight past the crowd. None of them paid me any particular attention. My gear was nothing special, and there was no way anyone could tell I was a mage. Of course, I had just as little interest in them. Today's goals were simple: test the new skills, raise their proficiency, and mark the portal in Zone 1.

I reached the goblin ground that wrapped the entrance, and red dots began to appear one by one. The first time through, I'd moved carefully, tense the whole way. Now the place was little more than somewhere to raise skill levels.

Earth Sphere. A spear of earth shot up from nothing more than a light flick of my hand and punched clean through a goblin's body.

Thuk!

Thwuck!

"Kyaaak!"

"Keghek..."

Max level in an instant. Within a fifty-meter radius, I could now raise more than twenty spears at once.

THWUUUCK!!!

I read ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠their movement with Detection. Before the charging monsters could even react, spears of earth erupted and ran them through from groin to skull in a single thrust. Goblins with burst heads couldn't so much as scream before they tumbled across the ground.

Watching it left me with a strange feeling. How to put it—the odd thrill I used to get playing games back in my student days. The enemies simply weren't a threat, and I had become absurdly strong. Unbelievably so.

Shhk!

Next was Wind Cutter. At first, severing a single throat was the best I could manage.

The moment it hit max level, I could scatter more than twenty blades as well.

Earth Sphere and Wind Cutter shared the same traits. Both could be cast instantly, and both could unload dozens of attacks at once. Maybe because they were tier-2 magic, using the two together still kept the mana cost bearable.

Earth Sphere's surprisingly effective.

Creation, aim, impact. Fireball and Wind Cutter both ran through all three steps. Earth Sphere didn't need to. Sense the enemy with Detection, cast at once, and dozens of earthen spears surged up from under their feet. No special calculation required—you could kill them on the spot. There was a distance limit of fifty meters, but slaughtering goblins had taught me it was actually more convenient when they noticed me and charged. The closer they were, the more of the calculation I could skip, and of course the mental drain dropped with it.

Puk!

"Kieeeek!!"

"Kyak!"

I butchered goblins as I advanced for a long while. Then, suddenly, a deep green rose onto the board.

"Oh..."

It was fairly large. I crept closer and looked around.

"...Hm?"

Something was off. A green dot was clearly floating on the board, but to the naked eye there was nothing at all. That shouldn't have been possible. I checked the position again and felt along the ground with threads of mana—and then I felt it. The touch of grass I couldn't see.

Nightglow Grass.

Nightglow Grass. A plant that gave off a faint glow only once a week, and only when the Labyrinth was at its darkest. Impossible to spot by eye the rest of the time, which was why it traded at a decent price.

"...Jackpot."

As far as I knew, one of these went for a solid two million won. This single plant would more than cover a week's lodging.

I tucked the Nightglow Grass into my inventory and looked up. Not far off, a blue gate had appeared.

The exit. For a moment I remembered the first time I'd come to the Labyrinth. Back then I'd stepped out through it, swearing I wouldn't push myself. Somewhere along the way, reaching this far had become trivial.

I felt it all over again—just how broken the Transcendence trait was. And with that came expectation. Through this trait, where did my limit actually lie? Past the physical recovery that had only just begun, how far could I really go?

Maybe—just maybe—even the revenge I'd worked so hard to erase from my mind might someday be possible.

Step, step, step.

Beyond the exit, the air turned bleak. Vegetation slowly climbed over a stretch of rock that had held nothing at all. Slender grass rose to my knees and brushed my legs as I passed, and my tracksuit was stained green in no time. A small sigh escaped me. This was exactly why you were supposed to buy Awakener-exclusive gear.

My abilities have improved a lot, but I'm still badly short on both money and points.

I had to head north about ten kilometers before the Zone 1 portal appeared. Once I reached it, getting back wouldn't be a problem. I'd be able to move straight to the Portal Zone.

While I turned those thoughts over, red dots rose onto the board one after another. From here to Zone 1, the land was grassland, and its master was the giant Owlbear.

Owl for the owl. Bear for the bear. Exactly as the name promised—a monster with the body of a massive bear and the head of an owl.

"Grrrr...!!"

One of them caught my presence. Its detection range ran to roughly a kilometer. Goblins sensed you at a hundred meters, orcs at four hundred. Most undead fell somewhere between three and five hundred, and trolls around seven. Far keener senses than anything I'd faced so far. I'd heard the owl head gave them exceptional sight and hearing. It seemed to be true.

BOOM!

It kicked off the ground and came charging hard. Instead of blowing it apart with Fireball, I waited for it to close in. I needed to see with my own eyes how much the new skills were worth against a large monster.

I let it come to about thirty meters. The moment its movement locked in clearly, I ran Earth Sphere through its torso. It shrieked with its body pierced. Loud. I drove an extra spear into its maw, then walked toward it slowly.

The earthen spear through its groin had punched through the spine, gone on through the neck, and met the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠skull.

"Grrraaaagh...."

An enraged Owlbear. Its snout was smashed, so it couldn't even scream properly. It glared at me and took a step, but that only made things worse. With every movement its body tore open with a wet rip. Bone and chunks of flesh dangled, and blood soaked the ground.

I studied it calmly.

"..."

Instant casting was Earth Sphere's advantage, but its limits were just as clear. An instant kill wasn't easy against something as huge as an Owlbear. Set beside Fireball, which reduced whatever it hit to powder, the killing power fell short. That didn't mean it was bad. Fireball and Flame Burst had overwhelming firepower; use them carelessly and you'd blow the target away entirely. When you needed the enemy alive, this looked far more useful than fire magic.

Tssssss...

This time I used Frost Breath. A chill poured out around me. Droplets formed of mana soon turned to mist and filled the air.

"Grraaah...?"

The enraged Owlbear's movements slowed. By feel, maybe a ten percent drag. For now, that was all it was. For now.

…

Pachichich—!!

The moment it reached max level, everything changed. The air around us froze in an instant. The Owlbear's body went slack like waterlogged cotton, and its movements turned agonizingly slow. I, on the other hand, wasn't affected at all. Ordinary movement was fine, and the magic I cast was unchanged.

Shhk!

A blade of wind, honed razor-sharp, sheared through its neck. The owl's head spun cleanly through the air. Then the body, split lengthwise, cracked apart left and right and collapsed onto the ground.

Thud!

I took the Owlbear down with absurd ease. Under any normal circumstances it was anything but an easy opponent. Other hunters had to recruit portal parties just to handle things this strong. This was simply me being strong.

...Excessively so.

"Time to get moving."

Now that I had a read on the area's main monster, nothing stood in my way. I pushed north at speed, cutting down Owlbears as I went and picking up plants and minerals along the way. I even gathered four more Nightglow Grass. Looking at it now, the plant was more common than I'd thought. Other hunters simply hadn't found it, because they couldn't see it.

Had I gone north about five kilometers like that?

"..."

A new dot appeared on the board. Several black dots, marking monster corpses. Several gray dots, marking Awakeners. And countless red dots surrounding them.

But there was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a dot I'd never seen before. A single orange point, enclosed by the gray ones. Curiosity stirred.

What did that orange light mean?

I started walking.

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