It took a few minutes to set everything up, but now a makeshift tent and showering area awaited them. Looking at it, he saw it was just a partitioned section tucked away from prying eyes. On one side stood a generously sized bathtub, tendrils of steam wafting from the warm water, and opposite it was a peculiar chamber, its floor dramatically modified.

"Some of our priests have a collection of things in their storage for events like this. So it's common for us to do this for a young warrior." Garret stated

Sinclair eyed the floor curiously, noting a 4x4-foot square composed of one-inch drain holes. Raising his gaze to meet Garrett's, he was met with her enigmatic smile as she gestured for him to enter.

"First, shed your armor and any items you don't want sullied; the process can be messy. Also, allocate your skill points to complete levels 1-25. After that, a new prompt should appear for a racial upgrade. Choose 'yes' and stay calm," Garret instructed candidly.

With a raised eyebrow, Sinclair responded, "That's it? What about the skills accompanying those levels? Can I handle that post-upgrade? You seem keen on having me dive into this with minimal intel; a bit sadistic, don't you think?" He flashed a playful smirk to signal he was jesting.

With a shrug, Garret answered, "Honestly, I'm not certain about the skills. Your leveling progression—or lack thereof—is a new hurdle. So, our best bet? Go with the flow and hope for the best."

Sinclair consulted his interface, stripping down to his old-world boxer briefs. Given his gambeson's ability to be immediately cleaned, he thought he should have been able to keep it, but thinking about getting whatever was about to happen trapped between his skin and the garment made him squirm a little. After a quick check, he confirmed he would have six race skills and three class skills awaiting allocation once he assigned the 108 points to his stats. The dilemma was where to bestow them.

His current base stats read: Strength 211, Agility 178, Constitution 147, Intelligence 110, Willpower 169, Endurance 186, and Luck 60. Notably, 'Luck' was the sole stat without an accompanying plus or minus symbol. Puzzled, he asked Garret, "Why am I unable to allocate points to 'Luck'?"

Garrett chuckled before responding, " A 'Luck' value over 15 is unheard of anymore, so I believe you're in a good spot. Direct allocation to that attribute isn't possible. To understand its intricacies, you'd need to consult a high priest who can commune with a god."

With this tidbit in mind, Sinclair stored the information for future reference and redirected his attention to strategizing his stat allocations.

When Sinclair's base strength reached 200, he noticed that his muscles began to compact instead of bulging, becoming denser. He surmised that 200 seemed to be a defining threshold. The quandary was that each of his attributes was vital in its unique way. His speed depended on agility, physical prowess on strength, spell-casting required intelligence and willpower, and his tendency to absorb significant amounts of damage demanded a robust constitution and endurance. Min-maxing like he did in video games wouldn't work here. Spreading them out was the best course of action, he thought. It wasn't like he didn't get them in buckets; he laughed at himself before making choices.

Prioritizing the immediate gains, he decided to elevate his Agility, Willpower, and Endurance to the 200-mark. This expenditure consumed 67 of his available points. With only 41 points remaining, he realized he couldn't achieve the 200 threshold for Constitution and Intelligence. However, he could push his Constitution closer, leaving it just 12 points shy of 200. This would bolster his health significantly. As for his Intelligence, he resolved to find equipment or other means to compensate in the interim.

Sinclair hesitated momentarily, then pressed the save icon at the bottom of the screen. A jolting sensation surged like a cold and fiery concoction coursed through his veins. Pain prickled every part of him, making him feel as though he was being torn asunder. An involuntary groan escaped his lips, catching Garret's attention, who asked with concern if he was alright.

It took a moment for Sinclair to regain his composure, and the intense sensations made him feel almost lightheaded. Panting slightly, he managed to reply, "Just give me a moment. Distributing 108 attribute points all at once isn't pleasant. I'm about to approve the race upgrade."

Garret offered a sympathetic nod. "Take your time and remember to breathe. This next part, though? That's the thrilling bit." However, as she spoke, a realization dawned on her, her eyes widening in astonishment. "Hold on... did you just say you allocated 108 points to your base attributes in one go?!"

Garret's warning came too late. As Sinclair acknowledged his race upgrade, he began to glow intensely, his entire being radiating with an ethereal light. The sudden burning sensation surged through him again, making him inwardly groan at its familiarity. He clenched his teeth, trying to stifle a scream, and focused on breathing rhythmically, as his meditation skill had taught him. While the breathing did little to alleviate the pain, it did provide a mental anchor amidst the overwhelming sensations.

A bizarre presence enveloped Sinclair's body, making him feel like countless tiny creatures were crawling beneath his skin. His veins became prominent, writhing as though animated, giving the eerie appearance of worms or slugs tunneling beneath the surface.

An all-consuming luminance surrounded him, making it challenging to discern his surroundings. However, amid this brilliance, an image began to form in the air before him: a tree, its roots and branches intricately entwined, enmeshing into a harmonious embrace. The vision slowly contracted, drawing closer and more intricate with each passing second. In his haz, he thought it was a cool design and wouldn't mind using it as a tattoo.

As the intricate design shrank, Sinclair could feel its weight gravitating towards his core, like when two magnets passed near each other and started tugging on the other. Settling on his stomach, stretching to his waistline, just beneath the familiar brand of his wolf mark. Slowly, the image integrated with him, pushing its essence through his flesh and settling deep within his stomach, its presence both foreign and unmistakably a part of him. He couldn't help but groan at this new mystery. He just knew there would be little to no information about this, and it would bring him nothing but trouble.

However, the serenity was short-lived and was quickly replaced by a fresh wave of agony. A sensation akin to an internal explosion radiated from his stomach, sending fiery tendrils coursing through every inch of his being… again. It was as though a blazing phoenix was reborn within him, its wings stretching and caressing every corner of his anatomy: his heart pulsed with an unfamiliar rhythm, his brain felt like it was being rewired, and every extremity tingled with torment and vitality.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the transformation, Sinclair's stomach revolted, expelling its contents. His vision blurred, but he could discern a viscous liquid, glowing faintly, trickling down from his face. The inability to comprehend or control what was transpiring rendered him helpless, only amplifying his visceral disorientation. As the pain built, he could hold it back no longer, and leaning back, his head let out a fierce yell of rage and pain. The system hated him and was finally trying just to kill him, he thought to himself.

Sinclair's mind churned in confusion. Every fiber of his being screamed for relief, for the solace of unconsciousness, but it eluded him. His internal tirade was already crafting a litany of complaints for Garret. The ebbing pain, though receding, still maintained a ghostly presence as if to remind him of the ordeal.

As the weight of the transformation's aftermath began to settle, profound exhaustion gripped him, the likes of which he'd never known. But paradoxically, alongside that weariness, he felt an unfamiliar vitality. His body seemed fuller, more present, as if his very essence had expanded, stretching the confines of his skin.

The putrid aroma that suddenly invaded his senses jarred him from his introspection. It was a visceral, rank stench that seemed to originate from him. Garret's oddly strained voice directed him towards a semblance of cleanliness. Stumbling to follow her instruction, Sinclair doused himself with several buckets of water, each splash acting as a tiny respite from his tumultuous thoughts. Feeling refreshed, he sank into the bath, allowing the warmth to soothe his beleaguered body. Clarity inched its way back with each moment, and he steeled himself for the forthcoming conversation with Garret. As he lay in the water, his exhaustion was so great he slipped into and out of consciousness several times.

It took him about 15 minutes of washing and bathing before he felt well enough to get out and dry off. He donned some simple pants as he didn't feel like putting his armor back on. Stepping out, they were met with City Lord Garret, Chewy, and Lei, who patiently waited for him to appear when they saw him, though they all went still—not moving a muscle. Her face went from worry to shock, and he had no idea what to interpret it as.

Garret whispered, but everyone there had super hearing basically and heard it, "What in the god's names?"

Sinclair stood there with his torso partially uncovered, still massaging his muscles. Lifting the edge of his shirt, he revealed his abdomen, displaying the design he had seen in the air. He had been expecting a lot when he walked out but was not ready for this reaction. Garrett, Chewy, and Leia kneeled immediately, causing everyone else to kneel.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed and exposed, Sinclair's voice faltered with confusion. "Why are you kneeling?"

Without raising her head, Garrett responded reverently, "Your markings, Sinclair. They are symbols of transformation and divine connection in our world."

Sinclair's heart raced as he tried to comprehend the weight of Garrett's words. He felt the urge to see these markings better, so his eyes darted around, searching for a reflection.

"Is there a mirror? Also, stand up. This is enough to handle without all that nonsense." The impatience is evident in his tone.

Leia gestured to a polished shield nearby, which was reflective enough to serve the purpose. Approaching it cautiously, Sinclair gazed upon his belly. The markings were intricate, glowing with a subtle luminescence, and seemed to have a life of their own. They were slowly settling into a distinct pattern similar to what he had seen in the air during his upgrade. It was the oddest feeling. He felt this was important to him like that old heirloom your grandparent might give you that had been in the family for generations, but he had no idea what this did or why it would be as vital as he expected.

Turning back to Garret, he sought more information. "What do these signify exactly?"

Now standing, Garrett explained, "My Lord, in our legends, such markings appear on beings of great destiny, touched by the gods themselves. We don't have any information other than those individuals the System marks."

Sinclair took a moment to let the weight of that sink in. Where had this formality come from all of a sudden? "Well, no pressure then. When was the last time something like this was seen?" he remarked with a faint smile, trying to ease the palpable tension in the air.

"I have no idea. They are in just some of our oldest tomes of history. It has been thousands of years since the last marking was seen." She finished, finally breaking out her stare at his abdomen.

"Look, Garret," Sinclair began, trying to regain the previous dynamic, "I get that these markings mean something significant here. But remember, where I come from, I'm just a regular guy trying to figure things out. I don't want to be put on a pedestal. I need you to be straightforward with me, just like before. Can we go back to that?" She had started acting strangely in her body language, and he wanted to immediately nip that in the bud.

Garret hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Of course, Sinclair. It's just that those markings have a profound meaning in our culture. But I understand where you're coming from. We'll adjust."

Sinclair smiled gratefully. "Thank you. Now, can someone tell me what exactly has changed?" His fingers slowly traced the design on his stomach. As best he could tell, it looked like a tree at the water's edge, but it wasn't a mirror image. The roots of a massive tree were equally as big below the ground as the branches above the ground.

"Let's adjourn to the command tent for privacy," Garrett suggested. Once they were settled, with guards stationed outside, she placed a small obelisk on the table, activating it with a whispered word. This will ensure our privacy. No one will be able to eavesdrop. Our previous agreement will protect anything we discuss here."

Sinclair sank heavily into a chair, the wood groaning under his unexpected weight. He glanced down, startled, then looked back at Garrett, a silent plea in his eyes: "I need to understand what's happening. Why are these markings causing such a reaction?"

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Garret hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "These markings are ancient symbols linked directly to the gods. They are rarely seen and are considered the stuff of legends. City Lords like me are made aware of their existence and their significance. They can indicate a chosen champion of the gods, a favored individual, or even a herald of something more profound. The ambiguity surrounding them is vast, and interpretations vary."

Sinclair rubbed his temples, processing. "So, there's no concrete answer to what they mean or what they could bring?"

"Correct," Garret replied gently. "But know this: carrying such symbols will mark you as someone extraordinary, drawing both reverence and envy. It's a double-edged sword, Sinclair."

Sinclair sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Of course, it's never simple. So, this mark is tied to the gods, but there's no clear definition of what it entails?"

Garret shook her head. "Exactly. The markings have been referenced in ancient texts and depicted in age-old artworks. But they're rare. It is so rare that many consider them mere legends or symbolic representations. Seeing them on you, so vivid and clear... it's like witnessing a myth come to life."

Sinclair looked down at his stomach, tracing the intricate patterns with his fingers again. "So, you're saying there could be multiple interpretations of these marks. And it's unclear what they signify beyond a strong connection to a god or gods."

Garret nodded, her gaze intense. "Yes. But what's clear is that they grant you a revered and, possibly, feared status. You have been marked in a way deep-rooted in our culture and history. How it will manifest or what it will require of you, I cannot say. But I suggest you tread carefully; great responsibility comes with great power and attention."

Sinclair leaned back, feeling the weight of the revelation. "I just wanted to find my way home, to help my friends and navigate this world. Now, it feels like the stakes have been raised tenfold again. This system sure has a wicked sense of humor."

Garret placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We'll help you navigate this, Sinclair. Remember, you're not alone in this journey."

City Lord Garret continued by offering her expertise. As they sat together, sharing a meal pulled from storage, the conversation shifted to Sinclair's pending skills selection.

"Let's delve into your notifications. Perhaps there's some clarity there," Garret suggested. "Typically, the initial options synergize with your previous actions and decisions."

She cautioned, "Bear in mind, when picking skills, if you bypass a skill twice, the system normally won't present it a third time. Though nothing is set in stone in your case, it seems."

Sinclair nodded, appreciating the guidance. He tapped into his interface, bringing up the myriad of notifications. He noticed a range of new skills available for selection, and though some seemed helpful, he was a little disappointed.

He shared the list with her so she could see it as well. Garret leaned in, scanning the list with practiced eyes. "Start with the basics. Look for any skill that complements your current strengths and abilities. Consider your combat style, yogic proficiency, and other unique attributes you've developed. Synergy is key."

Sinclair accessed his notifications, feeling momentarily overwhelmed by the barrage of information. His first skill choices seemed surprisingly basic.

Race Level 1 New skills:

Riposte

: A precise counterattack skill that strikes immediately after a successful parry, dealing increased damage to the attacker.

Cooking:

A crafting skill that allows the preparation of meals, providing buffs, or restoring health and stamina to allies.

Ranged Weapons:

A combat skill enhancing accuracy, speed, and damage with bows, crossbows, and other ranged weaponry.

He mused aloud, "Riposte? Really? When have I ever shown any inclination for swordplay? Maybe it's a default suggestion because I haven't specialized enough yet."

Skimming through the options, he continued, "Cooking could be handy but not a priority right now. That pretty much leaves Ranged Weapons. It is something I've been lacking a focus on."

He pondered for a moment, reasoning with himself. "Given how most of my skills are close-quartered, having a ranged skill could balance my combat approach. And besides, there have been situations where a ranged option could have come in handy."

Riposte and Cooking, while possibly valuable in other contexts, didn't seem immediately critical to Sinclair. His strategy always leaned towards preparation and versatility, and strengthening his ranged capabilities seemed a natural choice.

Making up his mind, he declared, "Ranged Weapons it is. It's time to shore up that deficiency."

New Skill: Ranged Weapons (Common)

Description: Ranged Weapons Proficiency grants the user adeptness with various distance weaponry.

"Well, that is a straightforward description. Why are there no effects like my other skills?"

"Passive skills like that in the common or uncommon categories normally don't to start with. Once it hits level 10, it should start showing bonuses, like +10% damage up to 70 feet, etc." Garret explained to him.

Sinclair continued scrolling through his notifications and soon arrived at the options for the next set.

Race Level 5 New Skills:

Riposte

: A precise counterattack skill that strikes immediately after a successful parry, dealing increased damage to the attacker.

Cooking:

A crafting skill that allows the preparation of meals, providing buf, fs, or restoring health and stamina to allies.

Trap Detection

: A skill that enhances the ability to identify and avoid traps, revealing hidden mechanisms or dangers in the environment.

His gaze lingered on the third option. He still didn't think the first two were good options for him. "Trap Detection? Now that sounds intriguing," he murmured.

Weighing the options, he reasoned, "Given our recent run-ins in the dungeons and my inclination to explore unknown places, having a knack for detecting traps could be life-saving. As much as I appreciate a good meal, I think Cooking can wait. And Riposte, I still don't see the immediate need for it."

He felt a certainty in his choice, "Trap Detection it is. I'd rather be safe than sorry. Besides, Chewy, Leia, and I will benefit immensely from this, especially if we're delving deeper into unpredictable territories."

New Skill: Trap Detection (Uncommon)

Description: This device grants heightened awareness to perceive subtle anomalies or magical energies, enabling the user to detect hidden traps such as tripwires, pressure plates, or enchanted snares in their surroundings.

Sinclair scanned the choices once more.

Race Level 10 New Skills:

First Aid

: A basic medical skill for treating injuries, stabilizing wounds, and preventing further harm in critical situations.

Survival

: A skill focused on endurance and resourcefulness, enabling navigation, foraging, and adapting to harsh environments.

Rising Storm

: A combat skill that increases critical hit chance with each non-critical strike, resetting upon landing a critical blow.

"First Aide, huh? Given how quickly things can turn south and how often I find myself or one of my companions in a bind, it might be wise to have some knowledge of immediate care," he reflected aloud. I want Rising Storm, though.

He remembered when they were out in the field, far from any healer, with injuries that needed immediate attention. "I heal fast, yes, but not everyone does. And if I can prevent something from becoming more severe or even fatal…"

Watching Sinclair contemplatively, Garret offered her perspective: "Sometimes, it's not the flashy combat skills that make the difference but the ones that ensure you and your team survive another day."

Sinclair nodded appreciatively, "You're right. First Aid,e it is. It might not have the appeal of a heavy combat skill, but its value could be immeasurable when it counts the most."

New Skill: First Aide (Uncommon)

Description: Provides the ability to treat injuries using basic medical techniques, such as dressing wounds or stabilizing critical conditions, with the option to infuse healing magic to aid recovery.

Scanning the next set of options, Sinclair mulled over the choices.

Race Level 15 New Skills:

Rising Storm

: A combat skill that increases critical hit chance with each non-critical strike, resetting upon landing a critical blow.

Survival

: A skill focused on endurance and resourcefulness, enabling navigation, foraging, and adapting to harsh environments.

Fenrir's Bite:

A powerful melee attack that delivers a heavy blow, dealing increased damage and potentially staggering the target.

"I thought Rising Storm would be an easy choice since, but that turned out not to be the case now. More survival skills could always come in handy, especially in unfamiliar terrains. But," Sinclair's finger hovered over the 'Fenrir's Bite' option, "I've been in enough fights now to recognize when I need a bit more firepower."

Garret leaned closer to the interface, gazing at 'Fenrir's Bite.' "That's a potent sounding skill, even more so when paired with the right strategy. It provides a devastating attack with the right timing, hopefully."

Sinclair nodded, "Exactly. I need something that packs a punch to turn the tide when things get tight. Tracking and survival can be learned through experience, but this... this is an edge I don't want to miss out on." Without further hesitation, he selected 'Fenrir's Bite.'

"Picking these skills without being able to see more than a brief description is not very easy." He mumbled as an aside to Garret.

New Skill: Fenrir's Bite (Rare)

Description: Channeling the ferocity of the legendary wolf Fenrir, this skill unleashes a devastating strike infused with primal rage and unyielding strength. Fenrir's Bite tears through defenses with the raw power of Norse berserkers, leaving opponents staggered and vulnerable. The feral energy behind the attack grows with the mana poured into it, delivering a blow worthy of the gods' wrath.

Effects:

Mana-Driven Fury:

Damage scales with the amount of mana invested, enhancing the strength and ferocity of the strike.

Rend Armor:

Reduces the target's physical defense by 20% for 10 seconds upon a successful hit.

Knockback:

Smaller enemies are knocked back 10 feet, breaking their formation and disrupting counterattacks.

Garret smirked, "Well, I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that. Good choice."

As Sinclair continued to peruse his new skill choices, his eyebrows lifted in astonishment. Mental skills? This was an unexpected turn.

Race Level 20 New Skills:

Tracking

: A skill that enables users to follow trails and identify signs left by creatures or people, aiding navigation and pursuit.

Telekinesis

: A magical ability to manipulate and move objects with the power of the mind, offering precision and versatility.

Telepathy

: A mental skill allowing for communication and information exchange directly between minds, bypassing spoken words.

"Telekinesis and Telepathy?" Sinclair murmured, his finger hovering over the two intriguing options. "I didn't anticipate delving into mental powers like that, considering I mostly swing an axe and punch or kick things hard."

Garret, noticing his intrigue, remarked, "Your mental attributes might have crossed certain thresholds, prompting these skills to become available. Or, during some of your actions or predicaments, you could have nudged close to triggering such abilities. The system tailors itself around you, Sinclair.."

Sinclair pondered, trying to recollect instances where he might've unknowingly tapped such latent powers. "Telepathy has its allure, allowing for silent communication. But Telekinesis... the ability to manipulate objects from a distance? That has myriad applications, both in and out of combat."

Garret nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Telekinesis provides versatility. It's a skill with vast potential, from retrieving distant objects to creating barriers or enhancing combat maneuvers."

Weighing the options and potential strategies, Sinclair finally decided. "I'll choose Telekinesis. The tactical advantage it offers is just too tempting to resist."

New Skill: Telekinesis (Rare)

Description: Harnessing the ancient power of Seiðr, the user manipulates objects with divine precision and strength. From lifting massive weights to controlling intricate movements, Telekinesis allows mastery over the physical world through sheer will.

Effects:

Seiðr's Lift

: Move objects weighing up to 25 pounds within a 30-foot radius.

Odin's Throw

: Launch controlled objects as projectiles, dealing damage based on their mass and velocity.

Norn's Precision

: Simultaneously control up to three objects or perform detailed, delicate actions with enhanced accuracy.

Garret smiled approvingly. "Sinclair, you made a wise choice," Garret smiled approvingly.

Race Level 25 New Skills:

Telepathy

: A mental skill allowing for communication and information exchange directly between minds, bypassing spoken words.

Overpowered Strike:

A high-impact melee attack that sacrifices precision for maximum damage, capable of breaking through heavy defenses.

Sunder:

An area-of-effect attack that sends shockwaves through the ground, disrupting and slowing enemies while knocking them off balance.

With the experience of his prior choices aiding him, Sinclair confidently moved on to the next tier of skills. As his gaze traveled over the three options presented to him for Level 25, one particularly caught his attention: Sunder.

"Overpowered Strike... that's a mighty sounding blow." Sinclair mused, talking through his choices. "But Sunder... it's not just a physical assault; it's a strategic advantage if it carries the same area of effect abilities." The skill name was like one he had used before in his online games. That was all he had to go off of for right now.

Selecting Sunder, he also displayed the full skill for Garret to see.

New Skill: Sunder (Rare)

Description: Harness the earth's raw power, unleashing shockwaves that ripple through the ground to disrupt and destabilize enemies. Sunder creates a violent tremor that slows foes, throws them off balance, and leaves them vulnerable to follow-up attacks.

Effects:

Earthquake:

Sends shockwaves through the ground, dealing moderate area damage and knocking smaller enemies prone.

Crippling Tremor:

Reduces the movement speed of affected enemies by 25% for 6 seconds.

Unsteady Ground:

This creates unstable terrain in the area, causing a 15% chance for enemies to stumble when attempting to attack or move for 5 seconds.

Cooldown: 20 seconds

Sinclair had one question as he prepared to delve into his class skills. "Something has been bothering me. Why does my class have its level? I thought it would be integrated with my regular level. Since I acquired my class at level thirteen, that would be the class level, too."

Garret nodded in understanding. "Classes don't level up the same way as your race level does. You could go decades as level 1 and never make any progress even though your race leveled up and up to different tiers. Then, all of a sudden, you have a breakthrough, and your class starts gaining levels. It concerns the class fit and if you are following the right path. Be true to your path, and it grows; wander from it and stagnate. You can lose levels if you betray who you are at the core."

Sinclair pondered this for a moment, letting Garret's words sink in. "Well, that could suck. S, to be true to my class and its levels. Try to make it be something it is not and suffer stagnating growth. Gotcha."

Garret replied, "Exactly. That sums it up fairly well. Welcome to the complexity of the system. But remember, it's designed to help you grow in every aspect. Both your race and class play important roles in your overall development."

Sinclair chuckled, "Well, as long as I keep leveling up and getting stronger, I won't complain too much. Time to see what these class skills have to offer."

Delving back into his screens, with the ever-helpful City Lord sitting next to him, he prepared to make more changes to shape his life and secure his future.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.