Hiroto Takahashi paced in his private abode amongst the Garden, as he had been for the hours since Brock Carter had departed. Some knew him as simply The Patriarch. Well, some may have been an understatement. Many was more accurate, if not all. That was what happened with old age, he supposed. You slowly lost your friends and quickly gained respect.

His was a cruel existence in that regard.

Sure, he cared dearly for each and every person within their clan - their family - whether they were born to it or joined it later on, and he knew how highly they all regarded him, but that wasn’t all he wanted his life to be. Hiroto had lived his life, he had spent the majority of it at the top, and now, he was oh so tired of it.

In fact, that very reasoning was why he was rearing Jane to be the next leader. She was capable, and for that capability she was respected. Not to mention she was a smart girl, far smarter than he ever was. He had already noticed the unmentioned benefits race levels appeared to grant its users, and Hiroto had begun to see himself regress in age, if only very slightly.

He thought it would be amazing if the concept of age could be circumvented. It meant Jane wouldn’t be forced to suffer the same lonely existence at the top if she outlived her peers. Among all else, she’d have her brother, granted he didn’t do something stupid and die. Hiroto knew the type, and he knew he was the type.

Honestly, it was somewhat refreshing to be dismissed so… casually by that man. The old man hadn’t been treated like just another person in… well… it would have been decades, and he missed the feeling dearly. His thoughts turned back to Jane, and they darkened.

She was gone. Taken. His protégé stolen from him by the disgusting human that they knew to be making those accursed Skin Walkers. Even the clan’s numerous shadow scouts had no idea of that individual’s true identity, and that spoke realms of his ability to secrecy. Desperately, more than anything, Hiroto hoped that Jane’s brother would save her, and bring her kidnapper to their knees.

He knew his power, and he knew it was immense, regardless of what his aura portrayed.

Jane was like the daughter he never had, treating him with unyielding respect in front of others, but when they were alone… she was just a friend, someone he could talk and relate to and joke with. He wondered if he had made a mistake by not having children, although he knew with his responsibilities, he’d never be around for them.

If not for the fact he was trapped within the clan, swamped with the duties that kept the place running smoothing, he would have long risen in level past the threshold of 50 he was stagnating upon. He would have long saved Jan-

A commotion outside ripped Hiroto’s attention from his inner thoughts and to the thin, canvas door that separated his abode from the outside. The moonlight glittered off the golden embroidery, and he found it pleasant, even as he reached for the sword resting at his bedside.

It was insisted by the clan members that he always have a retinue of guards guarding him at any given time, and it was those very same guards that were calling out in panic, their silhouettes skittering about outside. If they were under attack, it was only fair that Hiroto defended his own.

He slid the door open and stepped outside, his sword already unsheathed and held ready, its argent edge gleaming in the pale moonlight. He was left baffled, however, when he was met with a sight not of battle, but of confusion as several warriors began to bulge and warp as their bodies melted down to a bloody goop.

It was only around half that were affected, and immediately Hiroto called his guards back to him. He grinned knowingly.

Brock had done it. He had killed Jane’s kidnapper, and now his revolting creations were no longer granted the right to live. The Patriarch sighed happily, knowing everything was going to be ok. It was a bit worrying they Skin Walkers had slipped in during his last routine check, however.

One more day and he would have been killed in his sleep, he was sure of it. Maybe even this night.

My time isn’t just yet it seems.

**

Brock retched as another surge of blood spewed out his mouth and down his chin, the hole in his abdomen freely oozing red. He could barely move anymore, his adrenaline having long run itself dry just to keep him fighting in the thick of it.

Fortunately, it seemed that that lower body numbness from before wasn’t a sign of complete paralysis, though he still couldn’t feel anything. His wound didn’t even hurt, as he was entirely oblivious to the pain. He wasn’t sure that was normal, but what was he gonna do about it?

What he could feel, however, was the pounding headache that was clearly the result of far too much blood loss.

Already, his thoughts felt scrambled and his breathing haggard, and despite everything that he’d been through and survived, Brock truly didn’t know if he would get out of this alive. He glanced down. It was a pretty big hole, maybe the size of a football, and he was oddly tempted to try fit one in there.

He sputtered out another glob of blood, and as his balance shook, Brock collapsed onto his side.

It was a difficult affair, but he managed to position his head he could see the others. Jane was still as unconscious as she always had been since they rescued her. Mio, luckily hadn’t passed out from aura depletion, probably having taken one of her magic berries, and she was hurriedly rushing over to him. Carrie was still left in some sort of daze, overlooking the destruction in disbelief.

Brock hissed out a sigh as Mio skidded to stop, crouching beside him with eyes that portrayed slight concern, “Don’t die. I called a unit, and they’ll be here shortly.”

“Thanks for worrying about me,” Brock snorted. His voice sounded rather nasally, courtesy of a crushed nose.

He noticed the fine lines of concern in Mio’s face ease up a little. He had to admit, they hadn’t known each other for long – perhaps only a few hours – but the woman was growing on him. And he assumed he was growing on her in turn. Well, not assumed. The Carter charm is ‘irresistible’, as his mother always used to say to him when he was seven.

She clicked her tongue and glanced to the gaping wound, “You’re... an imbecile.”

“Eh, I’ve been called worse.”

Brock could feel the edges of his vision begin to darken, albeit slowly, as his blood continued to pump out from the bounds of his body. He could feel his Vitality working overtime both to stem the blood loss and produce more blood, but it only appeared to be delaying the inevitable.

Mio licked her dry lips as she stood and began to walk back over to Carrie and Jane, “They’ll only be ten minutes. Just hold on.”

Brock sighed lightly and rolled himself so he was lying on his back. It was slightly uncomfortably considering the spikey grasses and loose rocks lying all around, but his Constitution certainly made it better than it would have been otherwise.

Almost idly, as he needed something to alleviate the boredom of a slow death, Brock decided to open his status and overlook the gains following his last few battles.

Status.

Brock Carter.

Race: Human [F] LVL 59

Ascendancy: Fetters of the Bound [F]

Level: 57

[Stats]

Strength: 239.2 [+30%][Base: 184]

Agility: 707.2 [+30%][Base: 544]

Dexterity: 274.3 [+30%][Base: 211]

Constitution: 196.3 [+30%][Base: 151]

Vitality: 260 [+30%][Base: 200]

Intelligence: 807.3 [+35%][Base: 598]

Wisdom: 572 [+30%][Base: 440]

[Augments] - Augment of Sparks (62.46%), Augment of Skies (47.13%).

[Techniques] - Ethereal Shackles II [F] (79.66%), Oppressive Might [F] (87.34%), [3] Salvation III [F] (32.11%)

[Titles] - At The Precipice II, Agent of Chaos, Blessed, Destined for Greatness, Underdog, Hidden Fangs, Leader of the Pack, Login Bonus, Opportunist, Enlightened, Mass Murderer, Needless Slaughter, Masochist, Trophy Hunter (Unique), Budding Power, Brainiac, Attuned, Embodiment of Freedom, False Life, True Hunter.

Free Stats: 114

Shards: 13,917,133

Stars of Ascension: 34

Putting aside just about everything for the moment, Brock glanced to his free stats and unloaded all 114 of them into his Vitality. Instantly, he felt a boundless surge of life flood through his limbs, and the aching pain that had plague him since his last battle eased up significantly. He felt his heart beat with renewed vigor, suddenly producing more than enough blood to keep up with his continuous blood loss, even as his wound began to heal up.

408.2 is a lot of Vitality…

Brock knew Harry would have a bit more than that, and idly, he wondered if the boy would be able to regrow his limbs yet. With the pressing issue of his eventual death by blood loss dealt with for the time being, Brock looked over his status page with a more critical eye, taking in every change.

First was his level, which had increased exponentially. By a whole 16 levels in fact. Killing E-Grades seemed to be quite an exp mine, though he wouldn’t go out looking for them just yet. Not for a long while, he knew. He wasn’t that much of an idiot.

Next was just the immense amount his Stats had grown by. Agility had jumped by roughly 150, and his Intelligence was in the eight-motherfucking-hundreds. Brock couldn’t help but whistle at it all. He did notice that his Dexterity was far beneath half of his Agility, and he thought it would explain the strange dissonance between his limbs that he felt, though at the time he had assumed it to be fatigue.

It would be an issue to be resolved later, he supposed.

There were quite a few Stats he wished to start investing in: Strength, Constitution, Dexterity. Unfortunately, his stat allocation wouldn’t allow for them all apart from a gradual climb as he kept his build balanced. He wondered if he’d have an option in his Aetherweb to add some points to his level ups, though he held off opening it until later.

End of F Grade. Then we’ll have a look. I’ll go on a spending spree then.

His Augment of Sparks had broken through it seemed, and a quick check of its details showed him it now granted 20 more Stats in both Strength and Intelligence, which was a pleasant surprise. Salvation, his newest and forcefully chosen Technique, had somehow managed to upgrade itself all the way to III, and as he recalled the powerful attack that had followed its activation, he understood why perfectly.

Salvation III [F] (32.11%): Shed your burdens, be granted salvation. Does not scale with stats.

Brock furrowed his brows as he read the tooltip a second time. Not only did it tell him nothing about what the Technique truly did, it also let him know that it didn’t scale with his relative strength. Maybe that was the tradeoff for such an overwhelming attack? It’ll only be powerful until you outgrow it.

It was a bit farfetched, but he supposed it wasn’t too out there.

It seemed to be a final gambit sort of move anyway, considering it drained the entirety of his aura effortlessly while tearing his pathways to shreds. Despite that, Brock knew he’d have to try it again once his paths healed up, if just to further understand the attack that could save his life again someday.

Although, the whole broken pathways thing did make him wonder how he levelled up since he was sure the energy travelled through his pathways to be consumed by his Ascendancy. He hadn’t looked within during the processes, so he didn’t know, but it was a point for investigation later on.

There was also the matter of the three upgrade points he had for the Technique, though he felt that until he understood the ability better, he should wait on spending them. He shouldn’t go into something like that blindly.

The final thing for him to check was the new Title he had received, True Hunter. It wasn’t hard for him to predict that it was the reason all his Stats had an extra 5% boost to them, but he opened it up, nonetheless.

True Hunter: Slay an enemy a single Grade above you. +5% to all stats.

It seemed that it was the next Title in his Underdog/Hidden Fangs chain. He remembered he had originally thought level 50 would be the next one coming, but apparently the System was aiming for the stars here. Without Salvation, Brock knew he would not only have failed to defeat Gor’eth Kung, but he also certainly would have died. Brutally, might he add.

By extension, that meant many others would have too had they tried to kill him.

Brock’s thoughts paused for the time being and he dismissed all the windows he had opened up as Mio made her way over once more. He found the idle bafflement in her expression oddly amusing as she viewed his gaping wound. The blood flow had stemmed itself for the most part, and a vast amount of color had returned to his face and the rest of his body.

His face too, was slowly being restored to how it looked prior to being smushed in.

“You’re looking… better,” she finally said, moving her head this way and that as she looked over his supposedly life-threatening injury.

Brock snorted, “Vitality. I had some free stats left over.”

Mio nodded understandingly, seeming to have used a Shard that gave free stats too, “How many did you put into Vitality?”

“A hundred and fourteen.”

“That…” Mio seemed to be at a loss for words as she considered what he just said, “…is a lot.”

“It’s something.” Brock replied as he gazed up to the stars. He glanced over at Jane while Mio muttered to herself. One more family member found. He smiled warmly.

Only one left to go.