No kill quite like Overkill

Oscillocrescence, while not a real word, basically represents growth where periods of rapid advancement are followed by phases of stagnation or plateau. It represents the idea of growth occurring in cycles—expansion followed by a bottleneck—before another surge begins. Imagine a random adventurer exploring a dungeon and killing monsters to absorb their traits, growing stronger with each victory.

During periods of abundant monsters, the adventurer's power increases exponentially, each kill adding new skills or enhancing their strength.

However, as they clear out the monsters on the current floor, they experience stagnation—either because there aren't enough monsters left to fight or their current abilities are insufficient to hunt more challenging foes.

This lull continues until new opportunities arise to take a step forward, allowing the cycle of growth to restart.

The exoskeleton trait I chose wasn't just a step forward though—it was a leap.

A new layer of armor now covered me from head to toe. I hadn't quite understood, when I selected the trait, just how much it would resemble full-plate armor. The ants were, of course almost entirely covered by it, so I had nothing to be surprised about.

A dark-red sheen coated me like a second skin, the plates fitting perfectly over my form, snug in a way that felt and was designed.

It left my hands, feet, and face exposed, but there were no complaints on that front. Between the plates and my skin, my sweat glands were repurposed to secrete a type of ballistic gel from what I could observe, cushioning physical impact, and spreading the force more evenly.

I flexed, feeling the plates shift with me. They were light, far lighter than any armor had any right to be, while strong enough to withstand a kobold's claws, and to almost stop a frog shooter's tongue dead in its tracks.

Biological armor for the win.

The mobility surprised me the most. I had expected bulk and a decent limitation on my movements. But no—this was organic, fluid. Every motion felt natural, almost like I wasn't wearing armor at all. I rolled my shoulders, testing my range and finding it the same if not larger than before.

All in all, it was better than expected. No wonder those ants were such tough bastards to crack.

The best part was watching weapons slide off me. Whether it was claws, war shadow strikes, or an unlucky ant trying to pry me open, the sensation of blades skittering uselessly across the chitin was delightful. Even If one of them managed to breach the armor—rare, but possible—Shadow Flesh was more than enough to get me right back up.

Here on the 7th floor, I was starting to feel invincible, and for good reason.

A day had passed since my run-in with the Ishtar Familia members, marking six days—maybe a week?—since I'd been thrust into this world. 

I celebrated in the best way possible: a feast.

I invited every monster I could find—goblins, kobolds, frogs, shadows, rabbits, ants. I even dragged along a lone purple moth, its wings already torn off, saving it for dessert. All my guests died gruesome, painful deaths, in numbers far beyond what I could have managed without the exoskeleton.

Truly, if Shadow Flesh wasn't such a cheat for turning my internals into muscle, I'd be putting killer ants at the top of my grocery list for how useful they had been.

"And speaking of War Shadows," I muttered, licking my lips clean of the jelly-like substance they turned into after death. It tasted strange—cold and sinewy, like frozen meat left out too long.

A familiar chime sounded in my mind, while an equally familiar sensation stirred within my soul.

Ding. 10 War Shadows consumed. Please choose one of the following traits:

I stared at the options.

1-Black Blood :

"The Shadow has no heart to pump this viscous fluid through its flesh, yet it flows nonetheless"

-Air isn't needed anymore as long as one has Magic remaining within the body. Drowning becomes impossible and destroyed lungs aren't a problem for a few hours. If the heart is destroyed though...

.

2- Featurless :

"They have no face, for they are no one"

-A dark bony cowl grows on one's head, twice as durable as any other bone, offering protection. All senses are slightly enhanced despite the mask covering the eyes, nose, and ears completely. Scales with Endurance.

Two excellent choices. One that offered protection for my brain, the other that replaced my need for lungs. If my situation was different, I might have hesitated, but now, with people starting to realize that I did, in fact, exist, and being only a wrong turn away from running into someone who knew I was supposed to be dead...

I needed a small tweak in my appearance.

I picked Featureless.

'Liliruca's skill would come in handy about now,' I thought, amused as I felt the blackened bone grow over my skin. It started at my forehead, then expanded both downwards and upwards, covering my face in a hard, featureless shell alongside the lengthened ears I gained as a result of taking the hearing-enhancing trait from the horned rabbits.

The bone interlocked with the chitinous plates at my neck, leaving no skin exposed. It was smooth, seamless, almost like a mask but without any openings.

There were no eyeholes, no mouth slits. Yet I could see perfectly, breathe easily. In fact, my vision felt sharper through the helm, as if my normal eye had gained better resolution, and the colors around me seemed crisper. My left eye, now a blackened compound eye, which I had gained after devouring my tenth ant, still functioned.

The mask even improved it slightly, resolving some of the low-quality blur I'd been dealing with. Not bad at all, all things considered.

I stood up, taking a deep breath through my new helm.

Indeed, air could pass through it...and not just air. Despite its hardness, I felt clearly that it was strangely malleable. A single thought was all it would take to make it intangible.

It was part of me now, after all, and it wouldn't do to have to take it off to use my spear tongue freely or to simply eat.

When I stood up, I made sure I wasn't the same person. The loincloth barbarian was gone, killed by some Isthar familia member. In his place stood something else.

A Shadow-ant-man? 

"I'll work on the name," I muttered, feeling the smooth, weightless bone shift as I moved. I changed my gait too, keeping my steps softer, more restrained. Silent.

Diversion was the name of the game, after all, and by the time anyone figured out who I was, it'd be far too late.

I made my way to the eighth floor, steps quiet as I dragged a purple moth along with me. It was dazed, its wings long gone, and I breathed in the powdery substance that clung to its body. My lungs burned, the sharp sensation spreading through my chest. I, of course, ignored it.

Abnormal resistance wouldn't develop itself.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞