Without Calm Mind, the sight of the dead demon was dreadful—exacerbated by the aggressive crackling of flame that began to hijack Mark's senses.
He took several deep breaths, suppressing the pain as his body sluggishly slowed by the minute.
Mark gripped his left shoulder with his hand, warm blood trickling through his fingers.
'Fuck… everything hurts.'
Stepping over the crushed corpse of the demon, he rummaged through the soon-to-be-on-fire drawer, pocketing the 15 or so Gold pieces in a leather pouch.
'Can't be going back to broke now.'
Instead of a soft chuckle, a strained cough forced its way out. Mark had a lot of issues he needed to solve.
The 'Overcharged' effect was maiming him, and it didn't have any signs of stopping—though he didn't know why it stopped now.
But the effect stemmed from his Skills; he needed to figure out a solution.
'Status.'
┌─────═Notification═─────┐
You have leveled up: [Level 30] Intermediate
► Individual Stat Cap: Increased to 9
► Skill Slot: Increased to 3
► Affinity Slot: Increased to 2
► Inventory: Increased to 30
└─────═━┈┈━═─────┘
'So that's why…'
┌─────═━┈┈━═─────┐
Name: Mark di Abbott
Age: 18
Race: Human
Class: Shredder of Weave
Title: End's Apostle
[Level: 30] Apprentice
◄ Strength: 7 - ◇─◇─◇─◇─◇ ► +3
◄ Vigor: 4 - ◆─◆─◆─◇─◇ ► +4
◄ Insight: 4 - ◇─◇─◇─◇─◇ ►
◄ Dexterity: 4 - ◆─◆─◇─◇─◇ ► +1
◄ Intelligence: 6 - ◇─◇─◇─◇─◇ ►
◄ Arcane: 0 - ◇─◇─◇─◇─◇ ►
◄ Faith: 0 - ◇─◇─◇─◇─◇ ►
◄ Charisma: 4 - ◆─◆─◇─◇─◇ ► +3
◄ Luck: 1 - ◆─◇─◇─◇─◇ ►
➥Unallocated Shards: 0
◃───***Skills***───▹
Skill: Hidden Hand → Grade: F
Skill: Calm Mind → Grade: D
Skill: Sword God's Will → Grade: S
(4/3) ***OVERCHARGED***
◃───***Arts***───▹
✩ Academy Longsword: Defensive Style
➥Mastery: Understood (60/100) SKILL BOOSTED
◃───***Affinities***───▹
◃───***Items***───▹
Power Items: Soul Sword → Grade: C
Normal Items: Inventory (0/30)
└─────═━┈┈━═─────┘
'I still can't fucking believe he just… gave the Skill to me in an instant. Especially at a time like this. I'm dying here!'
The Sword God's Will Skill was the primary reason behind Mark's doom. Along with this being a demonic invasion, it was clear that once more, everything was End's fault.
The 'Overcharged' status effect punished the user for having more Skills than slots utilizing Curses. The punishments would be more frequent and severe for each slot the user went over.
Mark couldn't tell if his one point in Luck had managed to save him from potential demise, but thankfully, he barely had enough to level up to Apprentice.
Now he only had to sacrifice one of his Skills to return to normal. But that was no easy task—at least for his heart and soul.
'I can't possibly get rid of Sword God's Will. So either Hidden Hand or Calm Mind is on the chopping block.'
Calm Mind was incredibly useful—along with being very synergistic combined with Sword God's Will—since the Will's requirement was a 'steady soul' and an 'unperturbed mind.'
It was a hard pill to swallow, but Mark knew what he had to do. You never forget your first.
'Discard the Hidden Hand. I'll miss you.'
┌─────═━┈┈━═─────┐
Discarding Skill.
└─────═━┈┈━═─────┘
A strange sensation pierced Mark's heart and turned his blood cold.
…
…
…
Thud.
***
Mark woke up in a frantic scramble, pushing off the ground; he was drenched in sweat from the sweltering heat encompassing him.
Though as he pushed, he quickly fell flat on his face once more. His shoulder protested to great lengths.
┌─────═━┈┈━═─────┐
Skill Removal Complete!
└─────═━┈┈━═─────┘
'Shit… I didn't know it would knock me out cold.'
Slowly hobbling to his feet, Mark hobbled toward the exit of his burning dorm room, quickly noticing that his leg, eye, and stomach had healed—though his shoulder remained impaired. The Curses' maiming had disappeared with the removal of the Overcharged effect.
Blood trickled down his face, which Mark wiped with the uniform's sleeve—though more slowly began to take its place.
'I'm a little light-headed—especially with all the lack of oxygen—but with Calm Mind I'll be ready for a fight.'
He had to leave, though the Middle Dormitory was no doubt just as dangerous as his burning dorm room.
Now that he no longer had the Hidden Hand—and Understood his Art through Sword God's Will—it was time to put his Excursion loot to better use.
A beam of pure white energy outstretched in Mark's hand. The light slowly faded, revealing an obsidian-like longsword, a sharp edge outlining the Soul Sword's blade.
'Alright, time to kick—ow…'
A sharp pang attacked his wounded shoulder; Mark tightened his grip on the Soul Sword's leather handle in response.
The explosive Item that the demons threw had torn the hallway apart. Blood, ash, and dust lingered in the air.
All that remained of the demon Mark had punched was a black spot engraved into the shattered wall. Timidly peeking right revealed the shredded corpse of another demon.
'Flat on his face—bastard tried to run. Just a tad too slow.'
Far down the hallway, Mark could hear muted screams—unknown figures moved through smokey fog.
Mark ducked back into the entrance of his dorm room, though he had little time to spare inside due to the fire.
Checking his watch revealed nothing. The demons likely had some type of magical jammer inside of Kolzig-Bondra.
'Alright. What's my game plan?'
Survival was his number one priority. He needed to get somewhere safe. The Middle Dorm was especially not safe.
'Is there even anywhere safe?'
Mark guessed that the main building was secure; that was where most of the faculty were located—who would no doubt be able to overpower the Demonic intruders. But getting there would be a different kind of challenge.
'Outside is a clusterfuck of magic, but inside the dorm it's even worse.'
All he could do now was leave the dorm and see where it took him—though the demons likely camped the staircase exit.
Droplets of sweat beaded down his face; Mark began to take his leave with caution.
A figure darted through the smoke; A human student. Frightened, Mark ducked back into his dorm room once more, though he peered out to observe.
The student was frantic and sluggish—like a wounded animal escaping a predator.
FWIP FWIP FWIP FWIP FWIP.
A barrage of steel spikes flew down the narrow hallway with a force that pushed the surrounding smoke aside.
The student limply crashed to the ground with a deathly groan.
Loud metal footsteps forebodingly approached; audible even within the blazing warzone.
Mark quickly ducked back into his dorm, his heart rate increasing its pace after the terrifying sight.
'Was that a minigun? The Demons have a fucking juggernaut?'
THUD. THUD. THUD.
His breaths became shorter, though that nearly caused him to cough due to the asphyxiation. Mark caught his breath as the footsteps approached.
"Squadron 4 went silent on this floor?"
The demon's cold voice pierced through the hallway, bouncing into Mark's ears and chilling his soul.
"Heh. Think I've found them," the juggernaut demon said with a whistle. "Blown up with their own explosive. Weaklings, what a bunch of idi—"
Mark activated Calm Mind as the Demon approached, tucking his sword close and gripping the leather handle tight in anticipation.
He held his breath, the footsteps were close—Mark could feel the vibrations.
Then for a moment, everything was still. Absolutely still.