Michael slumped against the rough trunk of a broken tree, the echoes of laughter after his victory had long since faded. The adrenaline that had fuelled him through the battle had drained away, leaving behind a searing pain that coursed through his entire body. Every movement sent a spasm of pain ripping through him, stealing his breath.
The gash on his shoulder was deep, angry-looking, and leaking a steady stream of blood. It needed the careful touch of a skilled healer, someone who could stitch it shut and ensure it healed without any infections. But here, in the wilderness, there was no healer, no potions, not even a spell to knit the wounds back together. There was only him, alone with his pain.
"This is bad."
He knew he needed to act fast, to stop the bleeding before it took him—he didn't want to die after struggling so hard against that unalive creature. Michael removed his shirt and used it to put pressure on his wounds, screaming at the pain, tears running down his cheeks. This shirt was probably a carrier of many pathogens, but it would have to do for now.
The honey he usually used for minor cuts wouldn't be enough for this. Yet, there was nothing else.
Michael ignored the obstinate hum in his ears—both of his earrings calling at him, likely for a level up—and pushed himself upright using the tree trunk as leverage. He limped back towards the pavilion, the pain gushing through his veins with each step.
Michael kicked a bundle of leaves in his path, sending it flying.
"Why," he cursed. "Wasn't there a single healing spell in the book? Don't farmers get injured all the time?"
***
Michael puffed and panted, exhaustion gnawing at him, a constant twinge that mirrored the throbbing in his shoulder. After what felt like an eternity of back-breaking hike, his sanctuary, the pavilion finally appeared through the trees. Relief flooded him.
"I am … finally … here," Michael said, gasping for breath.
He stumbled inside, the familiar scent of fish and wood-smoke bringing comfort to him. He collapsed next to the fire pit and started a fire, using a simple spell to boil water.
Michael scanned his wounds. Cuts and scrapes marred his exposed skin, angry red against his pale flesh.
"Argh, would you look at that," Michael groaned as he removed the shirt from his wound. It gaped open like a hungry maw. At least it had stopped bleeding.
Gritting his teeth against the deluge of pain, Michael rummaged through his supplies, pulling out makeshift bandages and the pot of honey. He cleaned his wounds with warm water and sparingly applied honey to the wounds, he wouldn't have strength to collect more honey so he had to make it last.
He covered his wounds with bandages, each twist and turn sending a hell of agony, every fucking time.
Finally, using a branch and a towel, he constructed a makeshift sling, immobilising the limb with the injured shoulder.
Now with his wounds taken care of with the best of his abilities. Michael accepted the call of his earring. The world collapsed around him, replaced by an empty void.
***
[Level Up] * 3
Congratulations, You Have Levelled Up Three Times. You Are Now A Level 10 [Hunter].
Congratulations, You Have Killed Nexus Shadow. You Have Gained A Nexus Shard.
Last Call: Type Enhancement.
[Attributes: Multiplies the durability and attack power of any weapon by 2. The enhancement lasts for two minutes and resets every six hours.]
"That sounds useful," Michael said, scratching his chin. "But what's a nexus shard and how do I use it?"
Nexus Shards Are Magical Artefacts Bonded To Your Soul. It Can Be Weapons Or Accessories Or Anything In Between. You Can Summon And Dismiss It With A Thought. It Takes A Few Seconds To Be Summoned.
Now, that was useful.
The notifications continued.
Conditions Met.
Your Skills [Axe Hand] And [Air Blast] Are Compatible For Merge.
Analysing Your Current Experience To Determine The Final Product.
Merge Successful.
Skill [Axe Hand] and [Air Blast] removed.
Congratulations, You Have Gained An Active Skill.
[Air Slash]
Michael's eyes widened. If this was the same skill that had left the gruelling wound on his shoulder, then this was one heck of a power up.
Conditions Met.
Please Choose Between Your Primary Classes To Hide One Of Them From Appraisals.
Michael didn't have to think long to give his answer. He chose [Hunter] to hide it from appraisals. The reason was simple and perhaps childish, but he wanted to be known as a magic user, not a [Hunter].
Your [Hunter] Class In Now Hidden From Appraisals.
Conditions Met.
You Have Maxed Out In Both Your Primary Classes. You Can Now Advance To The Next Stage Of Your Class.
Do You Wish To Advance Further?
Please Give A Verbal Response.
Who wouldn't? "Yes."
Something washed over him, an invisible pressure that forced him to hands and knees. Pain like he had never felt before assaulted him. His skin tore apart as if he was in the middle of a storm of invisible blades, bleeding yellow pus instead of red blood.
His insides were ripped to shreds, and his stomach heaved, sending him into a state of uncontrollable vomiting of the same yellow pus. It tasted horrid, and smelled likewise.
After what seemed like forever, his vomiting stopped, and his wounds ceased bleeding yellow. His wounds began to knit back together, even the ones he had received during the battle.
Of all the pain, that healing sent him into a state of true agony. If he had known that the advancement to the next stage of his class would heal him, he could have done it the second the battle had ended.
"Why did I have to suffer? Stupid, Stupid …"
His angry mutters were interrupted by more system notification.
Congratulations, You Have Advanced To The Next Stage Of Your Class.
[High Practitioner] Level 1.
[Master Hunter] Level 1.
Congratulations, You Have Gained a Passive Skill.
[Danger Sense]
The fuck, where did all his levels go? He had worked so hard for them. This was one agony after another.
"System! What is the meaning of this? What did you do to my level? Give it back!"
Each Class Advancement Resets All Your Levels.
That was all the answer the system gave. In a way, it made sense, but … those were his hard earned levels. Stupid world!
Level 1 [High Practitioner] And [Master Hunter] Is Inappropriate For Someone Of Your Experience. Appraising A New Level For You.
[Level Up] * 4
[Level Up] * 2
You Are Now A Level 5 [High Practitioner] And A Level 3 [Master Hunter].
That consoled his wounded soul a little, but that wasn't nearly enough. The void collapsed, returning him to the pavilion without a care in the world.