Price of Knowledge

Adam could almost feel the weight of the ibex's intense gaze settling on him, its wrath radiating off its majestic form.

He instinctively knew what the Voltstalker ibex wanted, his hands trembled slightly as he gingerly returned a tuft to its original place on the cliffside.

The ibex huffed, its frosty eyes never leaving Adam, its imposing aura unmistakable.

His heart pounded in his chest, fear spreading through him like icy tendrils. But he forced a shaky smile onto his face, desperately trying to placate the enraged beast.

With painstaking care, he navigated through his inventory and withdrew another precious tuft. His every move deliberate, he placed it gently on the ground. The ibex watched him, it's cold scrutiny making Adam's skin crawl.

But then, something changed.

The ibex seemed slightly pacified as it took in the sight of the tufts scattered on the ground. A glimmer of interest sparked in its eyes, and it shifted its gaze away from Adam to inspect the tufts. The tufts disappeared as the ibex poked them - a clear sign that it too possessed an inventory.

"Can I go now?" Adam managed to whisper, his throat dry.

The ibex responded with a dismissive bleat, seemingly uninterested in his presence now that it had reclaimed what it perceived as its rightful property.

A wave of relief washed over Adam. Cautiously, he backed away, keeping a respectful distance between himself and the mighty creature.

As he moved farther away, his heart thudded painfully against his chest - the encounter had been a stark reminder of his limitations.

'Who would have thought there was a tier 2 beast here.' The world of Lenus was filled with powerful beings, and he was far from being at the top.

The mere fact that the ibex had not considered him worth its energy to attack was a bruising blow to his ego. But it had allowed him to escape with his life - a small mercy in an otherwise grim situation.

Adam walked away from the spot, feeling a bit embarrassed but also relieved. He had survived, and that's what mattered. He knew he needed to find more tufts, but with plenty of the cliff face left to search, he wasn't worried.

Moving further away, he found more tufts. A sense of peace came over him as he gathered them, enjoying the quiet night. But his calm was short-lived.

An abrupt bleat disrupted the silent night, shattering the tranquil cocoon he was in.

A wave of dread washed over him as he turned, reluctantly, to meet the gaze of the blue ibex. Its eyes, glowing eerily under the moonlight, were fixed on him.

"What do you want this time?" Adam's voice came out gruffer than he intended.

The ibex snorted, a sound that echoed in the quiet night. It was a warning, and Adam was tired of it. He was tired of having things taken from him, first by the hobgoblins, now by this ibex. Anger bubbled inside him.

"No," he said, his voice strong, "I'm not giving you these tufts. Not this time."

The ibex stomped, electricity crackling around it. Adam felt a zap of fear, his heart racing. He was angry, yes, but he didn't have a death wish.

"Okay, okay," he said quickly, his voice shaking. He let go of all but one tuft, each one a sting of loss.

The ibex watched him, then moved to collect the tufts. When it was done, it turned its gaze back to him, waiting. Adam gripped the last tuft, not ready to give it up. The ibex grunted, staring at him with a clear demand.

"Seriously? You want this one too?" Adam sighed, his frustration bubbling up again. But, he knew he had no choice.

Defeated, Adam felt a wave of resignation wash over him. He let out a weary sigh and dropped the final tuft. Once again, he was left empty-handed, his efforts thwarted by the blue ibex.

It was back to square one.

The ibex seemed to ignore the final tuft.

It looked at Adam, tilting its head, and spoke, "kinslayer, why need tuft?"

Adam felt a rush of surprise. The creature was speaking to him, and it had even used the term 'kinslayer.'

It knew about Adam hunting the ibex, he just hoped it wasn't aware about the sacrifices, slightly fearful at the response he hesitantly asked, "You know?"

The ibex nodded.

"Why haven't you killed me then?"

"Normal ibex useless. Hunt if want, no care. Weak, low talent." The words were indifferent, as if it didn't value its own kind.

Its eyes, piercing and wise, locked onto Adam. "But, no kill high talent. Ok?" Its voice was firm, carrying a clear warning.

Adam stammered, caught off guard, "How... How can I tell if an ibex has a higher talent?"

The ibex explained its tone matter-of-fact. "Fur different. Horns big. Hooves strong. High talent no look normal. And no harm tier 0 ibex too."

Adam nodded, the words sinking in. He would remember, he would avoid those with 'high talent' and tier 0. That was a promise he could keep.

The ibex seemed satisfied, changing the topic. "Why need tufts?" it asked, its eyes glowing with curiosity.

Adam hesitated, then admitted, "They're for a ritual."

The ibex looked confused. "Ritual? No understand."

Adam took a deep breath, and explained what a ritual was. The ibex listened, its eyes, dark and thoughtful, reflecting the faint light of the moon.

When Adam finished, the ibex surprised him. "You sit, teach words, give tufts?" There was a certain hopeful look in its eyes, a yearning for knowledge.

Adam was taken aback, but he quickly considered his options. He didn't want to anger this ibex, which was clearly stronger than him. But teaching, sharing knowledge, was something he could do.

If knowledge was the currency for the tufts he needed, then he was more than willing to pay that price. He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yes, I think we have a deal."

---

Adam sat in the stillness of the night, the soft hum of the wilderness around him. He was amazed by the ibex's intelligence.

He had expected a primal beast, and instead, he found a creature with a hunger for knowledge. It wasn't just learning the words he taught; it understood their meaning, asked questions that were thoughtful, deeper than he would have expected.

As the hour ticked by, Adam could feel a heaviness in his eyelids, a silent whisper of sleep. He looked up at the sky, a vast blanket of black sprinkled with the silver glint of stars.

He turned to the ibex, a creature that had surprised him in more ways than one, and admitted, "I need to go now."

Adam half expected the ibex to protest, but to his surprise, it simply nodded. Its voice, once gruff and distant, was now more human-like, "Ok. Here are tufts. You come back, give more soon."

A spark of pride lit within Adam as he noticed the change in the ibex's speech. His teachings had made a difference.

His heart lifted as he saw the tufts. There were more than he could count, enough to conduct several rituals. The rarest resource he needed for the sacrifice was now within his grasp.

But this brought a new problem to the surface—he still lacked a significant number of the other resources. But this was a good problem to have as they were much easier to find.

He watched the ibex move gracefully up the cliff, its hooves sure on the treacherous slope. As Adam stored the tufts in his inventory, his mind was already spinning with plans, strategizing his next steps.

He felt a strange excitement welling up inside him, a desire to perform his first sacred ritual. He couldn't wait to see what he would gain from completing such a ritual.

"It's time to find the other resources," he said, yawning. He should be asleep by now, but he still has not reached level 15. "I'll sleep on earth. There's no time to waste."

---

The mountain sanctuary was quiet, its stillness broken only by the hushed whispers of the wind. Adam appeared, the figure of an ibex draped over his shoulders.

Gently, he placed the ibex onto the altar, its body held down by the straps built into the sacrificial altar.

The ibex lay motionless, still under the influence of [Soul Severance III]. Its eyes, once vibrant with life, were now clouded over, a state of helplessness imprinted in their depths. It had a few minutes of respite left before the unsettling reality would come rushing back.

With a sense of purpose, Adam reached into his inventory. His fingers danced over the different resources, finally settling on the herbs he had gathered earlier and the equipment he had acquired from the [Cult shop].

Each piece held a vital role in the ritual he was about to perform. The incense making process was a dance of precision and patience.

He began by crushing the herbs, their fragrance seeping out and infusing the air around him. Each herb was handled with care, their essence captured and preserved, ready to be transformed into incense.

Next came the mixing. Slowly, he combined the crushed herbs, their unique aromas blending into a singular scent. He added a few drops of liquid, an ingredient from the [Cult shop] that acted as a binder, ensuring the crushed herbs formed a paste.

Once the paste was ready, he began molding it into incense sticks. With deft hands, he shaped each stick. Once he was satisfied with his work, he lit one end, allowing the flicker of the flame to consume the incense.

The sanctuary was soon filled with a dense, aromatic smoke, its scent a fusion of the herbs, earthy yet uplifting. The air shimmered with an otherworldly aura, setting the stage for the ritual that was about to unfold.

Adam set three bowls in front of the altar. Each contained a different item, all crucial to the upcoming ritual.

In the first, a tuft of the mountain stood upright, the second cradled a shard of crystallized snow, and the third held a sprig of alpine herbs. All these items were tier 1 resources, and they held a significant role in the forthcoming ritual.

Adam surveyed the mountain sanctuary one last time, ensuring everything was set. His gaze swept over the rugged stones, the alpine herbs, and the gentle whispers of the mountain winds.

The rich scent of alpine incense, the three offering bowls ready, the high altitude, and the sacred surroundings—all was as it should be.

With a confident nod, he murmured, "Everything's in place."

With everything set, the time had come to perform the sacred sacrifice.

Adam's hand found the familiar coolness of the Immortal Dream Blade, its heavy hilt sitting with a comforting weight in his palm.

At the same time, his other hand sought out the hand-crafted alpine incense, lifting it gently. Its sweet aroma was instantly apparent as he moved it in a rhythmic dance, painting invisible patterns above the helpless ibex.

His voice cut through the tranquility of the sanctuary, solemn and resonant, "In the grand theatre of existence, our lives intertwine today."

The ibex's terrified gaze held onto him, watching the incense weave trails of fragrant smoke around them.

"By the authority of the eternal cult, your life will become a beacon in our journey towards immortality," Adam continued, his eyes never leaving the ibex.

The incense was laid to rest, and Adam's hand was now on the Immortal Dream Blade again, gently creating a small mark on the ibex's forehead. The ibex whimpered, squirming under the touch of cold steel, but the bindings held it in place.

Adam picked up the alpine offerings, and released them into the air where they floated gracefully, glowing with a mild luminescence before merging into the ibex through the small incision on its forehead.

"Today, your spirit enters the endless cycle of death and rebirth. In this vast expanse of life and death, your final act feeds our eternal existence." he said, the cadence of his voice rising and falling with the pulsing energy in the sanctuary.

Picking up the incense once more, Adam resumed his slow, deliberate movements. The rich, herbal scent intensified, wrapping them in a protective shield of spirituality. "I, the Soul Sovereign, accept this offering and present it to the unfathomable cosmos."

Setting down the incense, he grasped the Immortal Dream Blade with both hands. He brought the blade down swiftly, bringing an end to the ibex's struggle. A final flare of incense marked the completion of the ritual.

The surge of energy was palpable. Staring at the system messages that began to flood his vision, Adam was lost for words.

"No freaking way."