webnovel

Player 0, Sacaroth

"Where am I? Where's Ymir, Zaser?" Sacaroth, I, thought to myself. I had been in the dragon santcuary, Dragonroost, before I had been knocked unconscious, and I woke up here, in a pitch-black room, warm, cold, but I can see my body? "Dispel Illusion." I try to cast. (Failed.) Fuck. "Be not afraid! I'll quote, earthling, or are you?" I hear. I can't move my body. Fuck, A divine's divine. "Yes, Aiden, I'm aware. Yes, I know your real name, but you shouldn't worry. You are dialated by 1-500,000,000. To your world you were in. You'll be back before your kids even knew what happened."

SacarothIsWriting · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
5 Chs

New Game+ ?

I check my skills immediately. Fuck. Most are locked until I kill a quota of Players. I can use fifteen of them, and most of those are support, few for tactics, and three for attack.

Tissue Magic, The cream on top, allows for replication, condensation, manipulation, and dedication, of my physical body as I see fit. Each has its rules, like how it can't leave my body for more then two seconds, but my benefactor had given it a small upgrade.

3 feet after separation, before dissapation. I like how they made it rhyme.

Fire Magic. Your base fire magic, but in the hands of a god who's been handicapped. Most i can do currently would be creating a bonfire, of total flame. I can use it, but I'm used to more.

And Gravity, which I haven't used in a while, but this, combined with Tissue and Fire, I'll be able, to get some airtime, along with increase my firepower, twofold, like say, increase the weight of a bone hammer before impact. Use the flames for propulsive force, and that's an armor piercer spell.

I check my mana bar... Bars?

(Enjoy, young warlock of mine.) Ah, that's my story.

250 for Tissue, 200 for Gravity, 150 for Fire.

"Six hundred total, huh?" I ask the supreme overlord that is this system.

(That appreciated, huh?)

(Skill Gained, Devour: Mana. The one you got from your dragon.) It says, liking my subpar worship.

(Oh hoh hoh, merry fucking Christmas, you little fucker.)

"Ah, yes, a fellow comedian, this is going to be great." I say, taking a bow as an arrow come whistling, striking my little tree friend.

I saw it coming. Totally.

A little arrow points toward the attacker, and I'm guessing towards me.

(Rewarded to tracked, temporarily.) He adds.

(I am indeed a he, but I don't care for sexual intercourse. However, if you do have that, you do get rewarded based off of how please the recipient is.) Oh. I'm married you sly dog.

I notice how I have some normal, clothes, from sixteen hundreds.

"Hey, can I have some help?" I shout, towards the arrow.

"What do I get in return?" I hear back.

"A Fire user!" I shout. This'll be easy.

"Oh! That's great, a truce then, fine sir." It calls back.

"What year is it, from Earth time, you're the first I

I met, making sure!" I call.

"2022, my fellow good sir. I'm actually from Britain, this is my third day here, and the queen died!" He says, catching up on events.

"Ah, that's too bad. 96?" I call, seeing his little head pop out. Smaller guy, clearly intelligent.

(To be clear, I didn't set rules, only wished them luck. The arrow was a sign of, well, hostility to the normal people here, who haven't been kind to the man, he tried to get free food, and stole. Figured I'd say that, for you.)

Ah. I see.

He almost up the hill, he has leather armor, a bow, two daggers, and it seems he's gotten lucky with the bow. Most of his arrows are shot, so either he had a camp, or can't shoot for his life.

"Did you get lucky with that shot, because I didn't see your arrow, I wanted to pick something up." I say holding "it" in my hand. Not expecting this to work.

"Oh, yeah, I meant to shoot your feet, figured you'd be pissed, mate. But, gladly, you're a fellow, I'd say earthling, but you're, as I can tell, Irish?" He says, and I nod, thinking back. I look at the hand I have raised and I form a rock of bone in my hand.

"Anyway, here's the little thing I picked up, seems its just a rock." I say, turning it over and open my hand.

"Ooh, that's a pretty white one, maybe it's your lucky rock for this world. Like a clover." He prods.

"Here, with that aim, you'll need it more." I hand it to him, and we start to walk down the hill chatting. I create a small lighter flame, to show him, I, indeed, am a mage. I look scrawny. Oh, how that'd change.

We end up searching for sticks, and get a Fire going. I have to light it, but I show him the strategy with sticks, so if we, "separate" he can light one.

"Hey, I think I dropped the rock? Maybe I'm really unlucky, mate." He says, jokingly. I laugh, knowing what happened. It fucking dissipated, because he left my radius, that's, that's hilarious.

"Hey, what's your name, mate? Just realized."

"Sacaroth." I say, looking at him. He has a twinkle in his eye.

"Bill. Never thought I'd find a friend, here." He says.

"Me neither. Thrown in without rules, other then a good luck, this is a weird day." I add.

"You want first watch, mate? There's big beasts, aroaming, and we could have you use your fire to scare them off?" He says, and finds a cozy place to sit by the fire, with our sticks nearby.

"Sure."

A few hours later, Bill, who tried to stay awake, fell asleep, after not trusting me. I use my culmination of years of hunting in the wild, and slit his throat with dagger of bone. I cover his mouth with a gag of muscle, and he falls asleep, to wake up in my little world.

"Best now, and not later, wish you luck, mate. You'll awake in a beautiful world, that I helped build." I say, as his final message, with this body.

(Predator, Gained. Magic Tissue, Level Up.)

I grab his equipment, which fits perfectly, but the bow is a little small. I put his body in the fire, and cover it with sticks, and incinerate him with a small, powerful flame. I stay up, watching, listening, and tomorrow, I'll have a new target.

The arrow is small, which makes me grin. That means far. I have time. Time to get my game on.

As my cloak, that is the night passes, I bury the fire pit with a bone shovel, and mark his grave. Bill, I scratch, into one of the sticks.

A new sun, a new prey.

I search, among the scattered, beautiful scenery of this lush, majestic territory, that is my little hunting grounds, for water.

I form an armor, made of bone, to be that of a British Knight, from the 1700's, In honor of my first kill here, and make sure I bottom heavy, but condensing it in my legs. Denser means heavier, and it'll mean I can stand my ground.

I form a broadsword, and a sheath, along with a tool hilt. I use muscle for my chain mail, and an hour later, my Mana is refilled, where I form a chain mail of bone over the muscle.

The muscle is to make it lighter. I connect the chain of bone to the solid armor, and line the inside of my armor with muscles, formed to move this larger body, with ease. I use the rest of my reserves to make the bottom firmer, stronger, and allow me to stay on my feet. Half of that rest went to strengthening the muscle of the boots, so I could walk with no hindrance.

The little arrow is half as big, a few hours later, but to a point where I'd say they'd be twice as far as Bill was. I form a set of jaws, small enough so the don't appear easily, in the palm of my fisticuffs. I like using fun words.

I serrate my sword, and toss the old bow, and form a new, stronger, longbow, with a compound bow mechanical setup so it fires harder, farther, faster.

I form climbing picks, and ascend this rocky, rough, tall mountain, in between me and my prey. I hope they're ready.

I want to make it home. To my family. I have two new daughters, after all, even if Ymir doesn't know about them yet, she'd probably be happy.

I'm coming, just you wait.