David sat in the dim light of his makeshift hideout, the crumbled remains of his old sword, Dragon's Might, resting on the table before him. His gaze lingered on the shattered pieces, the weight of his recent battles heavy in his mind. He had survived, but only just—and the cost of his survival was becoming clearer with each passing day.
The cold realization gnawed at him: he had been holding himself back. For weeks, maybe longer, he had resisted fully embracing the power of the system. The same system that had saved him, that had given him the tools to survive in this unforgiving world, had been treated with suspicion, fear, and paranoia. He had thought himself clever—by not relying too heavily on it, by keeping his independence. But that had been a lie he told himself, a delusion that had almost cost him his life.
His fingers hovered over the System Interface, the list of new skills and abilities he had just purchased glowing softly. He had spent more points than he ever had before, and yet it felt like he was finally unlocking something real—something he should have tapped into a long time ago.
He glanced at the broken sword again and sighed. It wasn't just his body that needed upgrading; his weapons were no longer enough to match the growing strength of the beasts he was fighting. Without proper tools, without stronger skills, he was walking into battles unprepared—and that was a mistake he could no longer afford to make.
So, he'd made the decision. He'd bought a new Dragon's Might, a sword that mirrored the one he had wielded for so long, though this one still felt unfamiliar, untested. But it had potential. He could sense the Dragon's Breath skill locked within it, a fiery power that had already saved him once. At the time the sword exploded, it also released the skill just before the explosion, roasting the Cragback Maulers inside.
David wrapped his hands around the hilt of the new blade, feeling its cold weight in his palm. He closed his eyes, letting his mana flow into the sword, probing for the core. It resisted him, its mana swirling stubbornly. But David pressed harder, pushing his mana into the heart of the blade, trying to force the sword to awknowledge him, to let him use it's power. His control over his mana was tenuous at best, but eventually, he felt a spark—a connection. The blade hummed faintly, acknowledging him.
But he knew this was only the beginning.
He let out a breath, watching as the system confirmed the bond. It wasn't just a weapon anymore. It was part of him.
With the sword bonded, David turned back to the new skills he had purchased. He had spent almost everything he had on two key upgrades—Bestial Synchronization and Weapon Bond. Most of his hard-earned points had gone into those two, but he couldn't regret the choice. Bestial Synchronization allowed him to retain the passive benefits of his beast forms while in his human state. It was a massive step forward, combining the best of both worlds. He could use the speed of the Storm Raptor, stealth of the Shadowbane Wolf, and strength of the Duskhorn Wyrm to some extent without having to fully transform. It was an expensive skill, but it would change the way he fought, making him more adaptive and unpredictable.
The Weapon Bond skill allowed him to bond a weapon to his soul. He choose the Dragon's Might sword as his weapon, mostly because it was a sword he was the most comfortable using and most likely no other weapon would come close in the near future.
The system had made it clear—Dragon's Might was now tied to his soul, and the stronger his soul grew, the stronger the weapon would become. For now, the sword was weak silver-tier weapon, but it had potential. And potential was enough.
But there was a bitter aftertaste to the decision of buying the two skills. Most of his resources had been funneled into these two abilities, leaving him with far fewer points than he'd hoped. He had foolishly neglected the system for too long, and now, when he needed it the most, the cost of his past decisions was catching up to him. If he hadn't been so paranoid, if he hadn't resisted using the system more fully, he could have been far stronger by now. He could have faced the Cragback Mauler without nearly dying. The thought twisted in his gut, sour with regret.
"I was stupid," he muttered, rubbing his temple with frustration. "Paranoid for no reason."
He had convinced himself that relying on the system would somehow make him weak, or worse, indebted to some unseen force. The system creator—whoever they were—had given him a second chance at life. He didn't know why, but maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it was time to stop fighting it.
David shook his head, leaning back in his chair as he stared at the system display. The new skills were laid out before him, each one filling a gap in his combat style—gaps that had been exposed during his recent fights.
Elemental Infusion was the first skill he had chosen. It allowed him to channel his elemental affinities directly into his weapons, something he should have done ages ago. The ability to infuse lightning, darkness, or earth into his attacks would have made a world of difference against enemies like the Cragback. He could have used lightning to paralyze, or darkness to corrode armor—tools he now had at his disposal but had foolishly ignored before.
He also chose Mana Shield, a simple but necessary defensive ability. The shield could absorb physical and magical damage for a few seconds—enough time to reposition or retaliate. He had nearly died more than once from a lack of proper defense, and this skill would prevent that from happening again.
Then there was Phantom Strike, a skill that fit his environment perfectly. With the monsters in this forest, many of them attuned to shadows and stealth, David realized that he needed to master this art. Phantom Strike would allow him to teleport behind his enemies, striking them before they could react. It was essential in this world where brute force wasn't always the answer.
He lingered on Darkness Aura, a skill that would lower his enemies' sensory abilities. By pumping more mana into it, he could disorient stronger creatures, blinding them or throwing off their coordination. It was a subtle form of control, one that would make him even deadlier when combined with his stealth.
And then there was passive skill Titan's Resilience. This wasn't about dodging or avoiding hits—it was about withstanding them. His body would harden temporarily, allowing him to survive even the most powerful blows. It was the kind of resilience he had sorely needed in previous battles.
The Life Drain ability was another critical choice, particularly for longer battles. It allowed him to steal life force from his enemies, using their vitality to heal himself. In this world, healing was rare and precious, and this ability would keep him fighting longer.
The thought of Weapon Reinforcement came next, and this one he felt strongly about. His weapons had become unreliable, often breaking or shattering under pressure. Weapon Reinforcement would allow him to bind earth and metal at a molecular level, enhancing both durability and weight. It was a technical improvement, but one that could make the difference between a weapon that holds and one that shatters.
Finally, there was Darkstep—a short-distance teleportation ability that would allow him to vanish and reappear through nearby shadows. Combined with Earthen Binding, which could immobilize his enemies, this skill would give him the mobility and control he needed to dominate the battlefield.
He paused on the last two skills he had chosen. Darkness Reaver, which allowed him to bypass physical defenses by attacking an enemy's internal organs with dark energy and depriving them of their vitality, and Darkness Rending, a more powerful defense ignoring attack, now infused with his darkness affinity to seep through armor and flesh alike and slice up the beast's insides. These would be his answer to the heavily armored beasts he had struggled against.
David sighed, leaning back as he processed it all. The skills, the power—they were all part of a system he had rejected for far too long.
It was hard to accept, but he had been a fool. His arrogance and pride had nearly killed him, and only now, after facing death repeatedly, was he willing to embrace the system fully. It had taken him dying once to realize that this second chance wasn't something he could afford to squander. Whoever the system creator was, they had given him life. They had placed him in a world filled with monsters, but they had also given him the tools to survive.
And now, for the first time since waking up in this strange world, David was ready to use those tools.
He had a long way to go, but at least now, he wasn't running from the system anymore. He was accepting it, learning from it, and maybe that was the only way he'd ever get strong enough to face what was coming next.