Castus let go of the knife and tumbled backwards due to the force he had put into the thrust. Sitting down he finally turned his head to the salamander that no longer moved. He had a new memory. When he killed that goblin, he didn't feel anything, but now he did. He felt every inch of that blade penetrate the salamander. He didn't like it.
Grant unceremoniously tossed the body to the side while pulling the knife out and cleaning it off on his white robes. His green hair shimmered in the wind. Grant was contemplating something. He turned to Castus who was white in the face still in shock on the ground. Grant knelt down next to him. "Listen kid. I know your world doesn't have nearly as much violence as this one, but if you're going to make it, and not get thrown away by the church you're going to have to man up." Grant stood up and looked around. "Take a breather. Next time use your blessing to make something to kill it. Even if you're just going to be a factory for the church you at least need to learn some kind of self-defense."
Castus barely heard the words of Grant. The blood from the salamander was on his hands. He looked at it, transfixed. The words Grant spoke made a lot of sense. This wasn't Earth. This was something else entirely. This world was far, far more predatory and he would have to get over this hesitation if he was to survive. He remembered the archbishop and that conniving greedy grin. That man, a man of the cloth, killed his family and all for the chance at a promotion. If someone who was supposed to be a religious figure head could do that, what could the worst of people do?
'Castus, get yourself together. This isn't Earth anymore. You have to change, adapt. A promise to yourself won't change that. Actions. Your actions will produce the change you need.' Castus spoke in his mind to himself, over and over and over. Eventually Grant snapped him out of it.
"It's been long enough, get to running." Grant vanished once more.
Castus' legs were shaky as he stood. The act of killing the salamander and the previous run had taken a toll, but he knew, that he had to do this. If he couldn't he knew the collar would make him. He began jogging again. For forty minutes he ran until from the trees something jumped at him. This time he was ready and he jumped to the side in a superman dive, sliding in the mud. As soon as he stood, there was Grant again, holding the creature by the nape of its neck.
This time it was some kind of panther like creature. It had three sets of appendages. Two looked like paws of sorts, but the remaining two arms looked like the stingers of scorpions. Grant looked at it and whistled. "A black venomous pouncer. Rare around these parts. Looks like August is doing a number up north to be seeing these down here." As Grant was speaking Castus focused on created crude iron. Once he had an ingot the size of a forearm he was already drained of mana. He waited a moment as Grant analyzed Castus.
Grant thought to himself as he watched. 'Interesting ability. Shame he can't learn offensive skills according to Darius. With sufficient mana he could adapt to most situations on the fly. Still his use as a factory far outweighs the impact of one individual on a battlefield.'
It took Castus ten minutes to regain a third of his mana which he deemed enough to start shaping the iron. For the first time two months Castus started to shape the metal. The metal thinned and compressed slowly. It turned into a cylinder and the end became pointed. Castus had learned while making that key in his cell that the more precise he tried to form materials the harder and slower it became. While running he had settled on a spear. A crude cylinder with a sharpened end would be all he needed to take care of the creatures Grant would subdue. Castus stood, holding the first weapon he had every crafted and thrusted forward into the creatures head with a yell. He had wanted to sound manly, but the vocal cords of a seven year old he simply sounded like a frightened child.
Pulling the spear out Castus knelt down on the ground, using the spear for balance. Killing once again hurt his mental state, but he realized that his body felt unusually good. Castus opened his status window without hesitation, as Darius had already clearly communicated everything about him to Grant, Castus noticed he was now level three.
Grant peered over Castus shoulder and looked at the window. "Hmm, level 3, that 0.1 growth modifier really is slowing us down."
Castus ignored him and was about to spend his stat points when Grant grabbed his wrist. "Nope, according to the church you are to spend your stat points according to the following rules." Grant unfurled a tucked away note and started reading with squinted eyes. "two to mana, two to intelligence, 1 to your lowest stat. Your skill points are up to your discretion though." Castus sighed and diligently obeyed. His status now read:
Castus Gliston
Race: [Human]*
Level-3
[Attributes]
Strength-5.5
Vitality-5
Dexterity-5
Intelligence-15
Luck-3
Mana-97.5
Stamina-30
[Skills]
{Passive}
-Basic Ryden Language
-Basic Noble Manners
-Poison Resistance (minor)
{Active}
-None
{Racial}
-Not awakened
{Blessings}
-Blessing of Creation: One of the many possible Blessings that can be granted to transplants from the Soul Transplantation Corporation. Expand to see more detailed information.
Stat points: 0
Skill points: 2
Grant took note of the changes, while Castus reveled in the profound feeling flowing through his body. Strangely, that feeling lessened the pain Castus felt. This made him stop and contemplate. 'Is this why this world is so predatory? Killing normally feels bad to humans, but by creating an inherit reward for killing anything, you create a loop. It's like smoking.' Castus let his thoughts wander and Grant walked over to the creature and snapped a stinger off of it.
Walking up to Castus he dropped it in front of him. "Hey, try to analyze this."