((Book 1 can be found here: https://www.amazon.com/Pushing-Back-Inevitability-LITRPG-Book-ebook/dp/B0BZZBHBMF/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=
Book 2 can be found here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0CBZR49Q7?ref_=dbs_m_mng_rwt_calw_tkin_1&storeType=ebooks
Book 3 can be found here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CK72L912))
Cold rain falls in slanted sheets as I keep my head down. It had begun at some point during my last door — the second since noon. Heavy, black clouds clustered the skies as a pair of headlights ushers me out of the middle of the road, I hurry out of the way and watch helplessly as the ensuing wind tosses about my 430 dollars. I was able to catch a single ten before another car rushing to get home knocks the other bills somewhere within the howling storm. I sigh and hurry back to the motel. Those were hard-fought bills. The Rabbit priest was extra wily, and I could still feel a radiating pain from my ribs where it had kicked.
The rain somehow manages to pelt me in the face, despite the fact that I made sure to keep my head down and hood up. It took ten minutes of fast walking to make it to the motel door. Maybe I should get a bicycle...no, no no. It would be stolen by the time I got out of the door. A horse? I pat my gut. I wouldn't subject a living thing to that. A motorcycle? No. I would be paste on the other side of the door. I guess walking it is.
I push through the front door and pull off the soaked hoodie and threw it to the floor. I was running out of clean clothes, where was the nearest laundromat? Maybe I should ask Ortega to install a washer and dryer in the new house. I reach for my phone. The water had soaked through my jeans and my phone wouldn't turn on. I sigh and toss it onto the desk. Now I couldn't even call for food. Nothing to do but wait for the rain to pass, I suppose.
"Did the last one level me up?" I ask the shard as I begin to pull.
"Yes."
Finally.
"Can I see my stats?"
Occupation
Novice Elementalist
Level (XP)
12 (10/1300)
Strength
15(-1)
Stamina
16(-3)
Perceptiveness
11 (+3)
Intelligence
17
Creativity
18
Endurance
16(-5)
Magic
30(+2)
Unallocated Points
3
"Hmm, a lot of them increased without the use of stat points."
A part of my Shard broke off into a separate screen.
"As you've been told before; they will increase depending on your actions. The Stat points merely make the process quicker. Your Intelligence and Creativity increased due to your strategizing in the level 11, your physical stats increased because of your walking, and the fight you had with the golem, and your magic increased because of your increased mastery of Mana Manipulation and Mana Sensing."
"Well...can you increase my Intelligence to 20?"
At my command, the 17 changes to a 20, and the 3 changes to a 0. A feeling as if someone had just poured boiling water of my head incapacitates me for a moment.
"Oh God," I mutter as I sit down. My head swims and spins in loops.
"What is that feeling?" I say once I regain a bit of my senses.
"Magic is being used to reform your brain like clay."
"...what?"
"You're right. Putty would be a better analogy. Apologies."
"That doesn't make it any better." I sigh, "Can you show me what skills I can learn?"
The more I level, the snarkier the Shard seemed to get. I wonder, briefly, if there was some sort of sentience behind it, or if it was all done through autonomous methods before the screen opened up, and I see the skill trees. I think for a moment. Wouldn't Lesser Heal gradually get better? Wouldn't it, therefore, be better to find something to mitigate damage rather than heal it? A shield of some sort? Or perhaps something to create distance... I had ensnare as a 'root,' spell, but nothing like a shove, or a shield; though I suppose Gust kind of acted like a shield to shoo away projectiles, I didn't have defensive capabilities beyond tanking the blows with my body and armor.
At this point, I could feel the mana flow being restricted by the mail I wore. I could probably increase my cast speed by a sizable percentage if I ditched it.
"What's taking so long?" The Shard asked.
"Does it matter?"
"Are you actually thinking for a change? Not a surprise."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I never have been more insulted by an inanimate? Object.
"With your intelligence breaking into the '20s you are rivaling people like Camus and Foucault in terms of intellect."
"Really?"
I knew who Descartes was, but I had never heard of Camus before. Another philosopher, perhaps? I wasn't too big into philosophy in my previous life.
"I have a question. Something that's bothering me."
"What is it?"
"Are you...how do I word this...getting snarkier? It seems the more I level the more, 'lively,' you seem."
"Oh, it's because I'm getting attached to you. I thought you were going to die the first day."
So there was an, 'I,' behind the Shard.
"Attached?"
"Like a teacher watching as a slow child finally catching up with the rest of their class."
"I see... I had thought that there was some sort of... I don't know, a kind of call center behind the messages of the Shard."
"No no. Just me. Call center? Really?" I could practically hear the derision dripping off of the words.
"Are you a God or a Goddess?" I remove my gauntlets and place them on the table near the door.
"No. I am a Folk Spirit."
"A Folk Spirit?"
I unbuckle and pull off the mail jacket, and let it fall atop the soaked hoodie. My body feels all the lighter without it.
"Yes. Us Intelligent Spirits were granted the opportunity to choose someone out of a long list to represent us during this war. The Gods got to choose many more people. But there are way more of us than there are of them, so our chosen make up the majority. All of you have a similar system of advancement."
"The game-like system."
"Yes."
"So what are, 'Intelligent Spirits?'"
I sit down on the edge of the bed, and Clio curls up on my lap. Oh shit, I forgot about Shadow, I push myself off the bed once again.
"Spirits with an ego. Not all spirits have it. The most common ones are Heroic spirits — the spirits of those who performed great deeds in their lives and retained their egos after death, and Folk Spirits, like me, who have stories told about them throughout the ages. There are also the Fay — though not all of them have the needed power to choose a representative; named Demons, and certain lower gods in animistic beliefs like Shintoism and Hinduism."
"Can you tell me all of this?" I walk across the room and pick up my staff and aim in the middle of the bed. "O, Companion of mine, come to me."
Brrow?
A mass of wet and black fur drops onto the middle of the bed. I run my hand over her head, and she reciprocates with a small headbutt into my palm.
"It's better that I do. So you know what the world is actually like."
"So you have stories associated with you?"
"I certainly do."
"Who are you?"
"Ha! If you knew what you asked, you wouldn't have asked that. Names are powerful things, boy."
Boy? I take a seat again.
"I was just curious."
"Well, there is a name that humans know me by, but what fun would it be if I just gave it out like alms to a beggar?"
"You don't have to tell me."
"No, no. I don't. But...how about a riddle?"
"I'm not very good at riddles."
"All the better."
"You know what forget I asked."
"No, this is going to be fun watching you rack your brain."
"I'm not going to."
"Sure sure. I know your type, okay, here's your hint."
Who am I, you ask of me?
Well, I was there with Mallory;
When he wrote those tales of Chivalry,
Of Arthur and his mortal sin.
And is that my kith and kin I see?
Within the lands of Liberty?
Or did I come across the rolling seas?
To settle with my countrymen?
"I'm not going to try to crack that," I answer.
Truth be told, the only things I knew in the poem were who Arthur was and that the Lands of Liberty probably referred to the United States.
"It'll bother you if you don't."
"No, it won't."
I'll think about what skills I need to have to better insure my survival later. Right now I was tired. My rain-soaked clothes had seemingly sapped all of my energy. I pull off my boots, set them off the ground, and do the same for my pants before I take a warm shower. The steam lulled me to sleep while I was standing as I stumbled into the room with the towel to dry off Shadow as she rolled around on my sheets in an attempt to do just that.
It doesn't take long at all before I slip off to a quick nap. Just to wait out the storm, I tell myself. Just to wait out...the storm.