В хронике моей... / In the Chronicle of Mine: 1.

1.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:02

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Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:02

There was no light at the end of the tunnel, only a flash as bright as a spotlight in his eyes, followed by a flood of sensations—none of them pleasant. His body, unaccustomed to sensory input, felt the cold and dampness of the air, the touch of the wind on his bare skin, some kind of dirt under his hands and feet, as well as nausea, dizziness, a migraine, and the urge to stand up and gouge out the eyes of that bastard who was screaming so loudly almost right in his ear. With a tremendous internal effort, he held back the contents of his stomach, which, if the body had been created from scratch, should still be completely empty. Then he tried to focus his watery eyes on his surroundings, seeing a very clear but incomprehensible image. Incomprehensible, yet somehow very unpleasant.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:03

Several dozen naked people—young and in excellent health, both men and women—were desperately screaming, shouting, moaning, vomiting, crying, trying to crawl, or even praying and prostrating themselves. The clamour of voices merged into a sort of continuous cacophony, yet he managed to pick out individual words that were perfectly clear to him, despite the unfamiliar language he had never heard before. The words were mostly profanities. The ones swearing the loudest weren’t the naked ones, but rather the sullen figures fully clad in some sort of leather armor or even chainmail, armed with broadswords, axes, or simply long knives—who, without drawing their weapons, were keeping order in the crowd. An individual who passed by him—bearded, not smelling too pleasant, and with a scarred face—casually assessed his condition and his attentive gaze, grunted something, also a swear word but an approving one, and then tossed him a wad of fabric, which turned out to be a simple and clearly well-worn cloak.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:04

He didn’t seem to treat him specially, since he went through the exact same routine with a couple more naked guys who, like Leonid, were behaving. Quickly wrapping himself in a rag, Leonid changed his mind about getting to his feet and starting a conversation after watching the most unruly ones being brought to their senses with blows, and the one who lunged at the armed man with a stone was struck with such force that he collapsed in a heap of rags, his neck twisted strangely, and he made no further attempts to stand. The chaotic disorder of the first few minutes of the transformation gradually became less disorderly and chaotic. The loudest ones were silenced with blows; the calmest ones, like him, were dressed and gestured to move to a separate corner. There, he was not the first, but the fifth, meeting looks that were sometimes frightened, sometimes curious, but no one was in a hurry to exchange words, preferring silence. In that same silence, they watched as several more corpses joined the dead man—those who had either been the first to rush forward or the first to insult their overseers, or perhaps their jailers.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:08

“I’m dead,” said the young man unexpectedly. A man who, given the rejuvenating effect, could well have been older than Leonid himself. “It was a cavalry charge; the third bugle call sounded, but we were met by mountain infantry, and I didn’t have time to dodge their pikes. I’m dead. But this isn’t what I expected from the afterlife.”

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:09

"Me too. I mean, I died too, just not in battle. A beam fell on me; I was a construction worker." That’s the second one of the five of them—short and stocky, dark-skinned and hooked-nosed, a true native of the Caucasus. "And then that emptiness, and those symbols in my head. And here I am. Fuck."

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:11

Those words broke the ice, and their group—which had grown to a dozen people—began eagerly sharing how they’d ended up there, making it clear to Leonid that they weren’t his fellow survivors of the planetary cataclysm. Not only because Earth hadn’t seen cavalry charges against spear-formation mercenary infantry in centuries, but also because one of those present had witnessed his planet literally devoured by a horror from the depths of space. Some had died and witnessed their own deaths; some had been ill for a long time and passed away in their sleep; some, like Leonid himself, hadn’t understood a thing—but they had all come from different worlds and countries, empires and families, and did not recognize one another. The man who spoke first, who turned out to be quite the aristocrat and gentleman, was very upset to learn that he was speaking not with noble gentlemen but with commoners, but his thirst for conversation and his unwillingness to remain alone clearly overcame his haughty pride.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:13

One of the speakers turned out to be a native of a high-tech society who had died in an anti-gravity shuttle race, so he looked upon the classic medieval or Victorian savages with even greater contempt than Balar Zin Enral, who was a knight and a gentleman. Leonid even considered talking to this person, since he was curious about the spaceships, but it just didn’t work out. It wasn’t even because a fight had nearly broken out among the newborns, who’d managed to quarrel several times already; no, it was simply that some unknown figures, armed and clad in armor, had successfully sorted out their disorderly ranks and decided to have a word with them. The man was only glad of this because his feet were frankly freezing from standing barefoot in the sticky, cold mud, and his cloak didn’t keep him warm at all, serving more to shield him from prying eyes than from the weather.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:14

“Listen to me, assholes!” The shout from the tall, stocky, bearded man—with a pair of rings in his beard—rang out thunderously, literally crushing any desire to disobey, causing Leonid to nearly fall on his ass, while many others actually did. “I’ll say this once, I won’t repeat myself, and may the Names of the Great Ones, the entire Pantheon, and the All-Seeing One, forbid you from interrupting me. Every single one of you is dead. Back in your little worlds, your remains were buried long ago. But by the grace of the All-Encompassing, All-Merciful, and Omnipresent—or by her cruelty—you pieces of shit have been given a second chance. Here. On Iulatar. A little understanding of what the Ladder is, what the Steps are, and how to walk them should have been instilled in your stupid heads. But you aren’t walking yet; you haven’t even swung at the first step. And that’s why—you’re all shit! Useless, cowardly shit, but lucky shit. And now I’ll explain why."

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:16

It must be said that he spoke passionately, and one had to listen. Even Balar, who had nearly flared up with rage when they began to insult him, was forced to listen and take it all in. If Senior Grok is to be believed, they’ve actually been incredibly lucky twice in a row. First, because they had been resurrected and woven into new bodies, and second, because they had been woven together right here. Strangers are brought to the skies of Iulatar regularly, every first new moon of every year, when the boundaries between worlds weaken, and the Storm arrives, tearing apart the fabric of the world, followed by the Mist, which transforms that world.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:19

New Rifts, Ulcers, and Labyrinths appear, which immediately brought to Leonid’s mind a strong association with all sorts of game dungeons, spewing new waves of creatures into the world; previously cleared paths become dangerous, while impassable thickets, on the contrary, can drastically reduce the danger. Or a whole new chunk of territory might appear out of nowhere right in the middle of long-explored expanses, instantly raping physics and geometry.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:22

Basically, the world is in serious turmoil, and on top of that, there’s a horde of naked, barefoot, ragged Initiates with zero level, who feed on creatures, become possessed, turn into undead, and other such scum, and die, die, and die again. In the glorious city of Morochny, a loyal part of the county of Cheren, which is part of the Kingdom of the Swan, good people follow the laws of the Omnipresent and send expeditions to the most accessible teleportation points, calculated in advance by stargazers and soothsayers. To bring in new labor and put it to work.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:27

If nothing is done, the deaths of hundreds upon hundreds of Initiates could end up debuffing the very best people of this glorious city. They’re all very lucky, says Grok, that they ended up at a cleared location rather than deep within the Altered Lands, where hundreds and thousands of their fellow misfortunates are currently dying, most often in very unpleasant ways. Or, even worse, they aren’t dying, but they’re longing for it, because they have to live, for example, as a slowly digested dinner inside the web-like cocoon of some insectoid creature.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:29

Yet it is precisely in the altered (even the Altered) territories that the world’s barrier is weakest; it is here that the vast majority of isekai are reborn, whereas in more prosperous areas closer to the capitals of the states, it is rare for even one or two individuals to arrive at a given location. But in those places, there are few chances to step onto the Ladder, for the creatures brought by the Mist and the Storm are fewer, the points of Sores and Rifts have long been known and are under control, and the newly arrived are quickly brought under control and serve to level up those who need it more.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:31

Here, in these cursed lands, it is easy to perish, but it is also easy to rise—for the air here is heavy and full of power; simply by breathing it, any beggar or peasant can reach the second level in five years. And if they work hard for those five years, they can reach the third. The System comes to everyone here at the same age, most often at exactly eighteen winters, though there are exceptions with the Young Ones, who attain it at fourteen, and the Elderly, who wait until twenty-one. There are none whom the Omnipresent has not marked and accepted; a priori, the chance for greatness is granted to everyone, from beggar to king. This is a direct quote, though the expression on Senior Grok’s face as he recited it by rote clearly betrayed an extremely deep skepticism toward his own words.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:33

“Now listen up, you piece of shit.” He continued his speech, just as politely and eloquently as before, but without that booming, gut-wrenching voice. “All of you either have empty skill slots, or one of your slots is filled with a randomly assigned gift—it happens. Those whose first skill slot is taken should sit quietly and wait. The rest of you have the right to choose, since you’ve already been shivering in the cold for over an hour. Everyone who was offered the “Survival” skill should choose and accept it immediately. At level zero, all newcomers are granted, by the grace of the Omnipresent, as many as three free talents not tied to any skills. Just take them and invest in “Sturdy Legs,” “Iron Stomach,” and “Restorative Sleep.” If you had a gift for a random talent and it went into one of those slots when you chose your skill, then, damn it, you’re in luck and can save that extra point.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:52

“And why exactly must we do this? Please explain.” “Balar spoke up, having regained his composure, clearly holding back strong expressions. "I didn’t understand much of what was said, but these talents are a gift from the gods, a path to power. Why should I waste them on something suitable for a vagabond, but not for a warrior and a nobleman?"

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:53

To Leonid’s surprise, there was no rebuke, nor any attempt to impose authority, for Grok merely gave a grim chuckle along with some of his previously silent subordinates, and then calmly—without a trace of aggression—stepped closer to the knight standing proudly before him, a figure from some unknown medieval world. Who was definitely not a classic medieval idiot, as they were so fond of describing them in books. Looming over the slightly shorter man, who was barely hiding his shivers from the cold, he even shook his head in a somewhat comforting way, as if speaking to an unreasonable child.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 09:55

"First off, forget about being a nobleman back home, or you’ll die. You were someone back there, but here you’re nobody—just trash and rabble. In Iulatar, power rules. It’s what grants nobility, if you’ve got the strength. Any of the heirs could easily cut down you, me, and this whole crowd—their Rank is no lower than ten, closer to fifteen. You’ll deeply regret trying to claim nobility, even if only for a short while." Judging by the twitching of the nobleman’s jaw, he had a lot he wanted to say but didn’t dare; he swallowed his pride under Grok’s understanding smile.

"And the reason to do it my way is simple. We’re three days’ journey from the city, a day and a half from the first villages and hamlets—consider it almost wasteland. And those days, you arrogant asshole, are for us, not for you fresh-faced, dumb asses who don’t know shit. The whole group will be trudging through the wilderness for five and a half days. You don’t have to follow my advice—forcing someone to choose a skill is considered a total asshole move—but without what I recommend, we’ll be lucky if half of you make it, maybe even fewer. We’re helping you, not feeding you with our tits, you outsiders. So be grateful, bitch, or just fuck off on your own—I’ll even let you follow us."

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 10:03

“I already have the skill.” After a pause, having clearly left out any mention of the rampaging mob, Balar manages to say. “Swordmanship.”

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 10:04

Grok raised his eyebrows and thoughtfully scratched his beard, tugging at the ring a couple of times, as if considering whether to take out the troublemaker right then and there. He didn’t, though; in fact, he began to look at him with a certain warmth, as if he were someone who would bring in a lot of money, for the newcomer’s skill seemed to be quite good.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 10:18

"Not bad, yeah, pretty decent, actually. You won’t be just another piece of meat anymore, huh. That means axes, swords, sabers, and all that other bladed crap right off the bat... yeah, that’ll do." He said it as if he were doubting himself. ‘What random skill?’ And don’t turn up your nose—yeah, it’s the kind of question that gets you punched in the face, but I’m asking as your senior; can you whisper it in my ear?”

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 10:19

“A Pliers Grip.” He didn’t whisper in his ear. Leonid wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, even though he wouldn’t have spoken at all in the first place.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 10:20

"Uh-huh. Got it. So take "Sharpness of Blade" too, also passive, and, as a striking trick, "Slicing Swing." Judging by the confident tone, the man knew exactly what he was saying, but at the same time, he did not approve of the way the nobleman decided to either brag to the public or refuse to whisper in his ear. "Don't spend the last one for now, we'll talk later. Berrit, give this one a cleaver from the supplies, let him wear it. And some sturdier boots, so his feet don't freeze. Okay, now you, stranger… You know how to handle a sword, right? What’s your skill level? Actually, never mind—enough of that. Do you have ten?"

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 10:30

"No." There is much less irritation in the voice, and the nobleman is already behaving much calmer.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 10:32

“Five?” Grok, looking bored, continued his questioning, and the man being questioned merely nodded in response, barely noticeably, but Leonid saw it. “That's ok. An ordinary skill, but a useful one, a worthy one—not everyone gets one. We’ll talk when we get there, if you prove yourself. You’re the senior among this rabble, so I’ll hold you accountable for everything—consider it a test. Now the rest of you, damn it. Who else has something useful to show? Raise your hands quickly, you ass-kissers and whiners!"

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 10:34

Leonid chose to keep quiet, wanting to see what the other lucky ones had gotten before showing off his own awesome skill. Something told him it would be better to pretend he’d taken “Survival,” risking collapse from exhaustion and being left to the beasts, than to admit he had anything even remotely unique. Otherwise, sure, they’d take him to the city in top shape, but once there... who knows, maybe they could just cut out the lucky newcomer’s skills? Or enslave and take advantage of a naive individual who knows nothing about life?

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:14

No way—as long as he had the chance, it was better to wait and keep quiet. He’d done that his whole life, and, as a rule, he was often right. In that respect, he was like a viper or a heron standing by the water: he knew how to wait patiently and persistently, only to pounce and act swiftly when the need arose. True, the conditions for this kind of behavior were extremely comfortable, and the stakes were a bonus, a chance for a promotion, or some other trifle—not life itself.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:14

In the end, there were six lucky ones, but two of them received “Farming,” which wasn’t a particularly useful skill—ideal for peasants, but noticeably better than the more standard and run-of-the-mill “Agriculture” that another peasant isekai received. Of the remaining three, there was a snub-nosed guy and some stooped guy with shifty eyes, who had "Stealth", but preferred to discuss his talent choices in a whisper, right in my ear. He, looking satisfied and grinning with slightly crooked teeth, was also taken aside and ordered to get dressed up a bit, then placed in the swordsman’s company. Another unremarkable guy spoke into someone’s ear right from the start, receiving a thoughtful “that’ll do” from Grok, and also headed off to join the chosen ones.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:17

The last one, a very pretty girl—though completely bald, like quite a few of the newly arrived newcomers—with piercing hazel eyes, turned out to be a mage, demonstratively hurling a fireball into the air. Grock actually smiled at her, bringing her closer to his people and then into his personal tent, where he spoke with her for at least ten minutes while the rest froze; when they emerged from the tent, standing off to the side, they both looked quite pleased, though it didn’t seem as though they’d been having any intimate interaction.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:19

Leonid, though...

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:19

Leonid said nothing, preferring not to take any risks or rush to the front of the line, though he regretted it almost immediately. The clothes issued to go with the coat turned out to be nothing but rags—the pants, the shirt, and the tattered sheepskin vest. As for the footwear, it was nothing more than some falling-apart rags, tied together with pieces of twine just to keep the soles from falling off. In response to his half-hearted protest, he was told to go kill some creatures; maybe they’d give him a Chest from which he could retrieve the proper boots prescribed by the Chronicle, but for now, he should just take what he was given. Or maybe they would give him something—but in the teeth. To be fair, he was still a bit luckier than many others who had been gifted from the full breadth of the lord’s generosity. On the other hand, his clothes, though full of holes, were clean, didn’t stink, and kept him reasonably warm, gradually restoring the lost heat to his body. If only there were something to eat, but they’d eat later, once they’d moved away from the point of arrival, for here the boundary between worlds was thin, and something predatory and evil might well spill out in the wake of the strays.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:22

He managed to get a glimpse of this landing site from a distance while the tents were being set up and the fires were being extinguished—fires around which Grok’s people were waiting for their arrival. The place resembled the ruins of some amphitheater combined with a Greek temple. Both the remains of columns and the stands were visible. The newcomers, meanwhile, gathered in their new bodies right on the arena, jostling side by side. Climbing the steep steps, long covered in earth and overgrown with nasty, prickly grass, came easily to him; his body, warmed up and no longer freezing, felt alive; nothing hurt anywhere, and he felt wonderful overall. Judging by all appearances, the others felt the same way; the freshness of their bodies, which had not yet experienced the hardships and burdens of their new life, was evident.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:23

While they were being sorted, the really dimwits were being taught—with fists and finger-pointing—how to use the Chronicle. That’s what they called the System, though other names were common, like the Tablet or the Ladder, or even simply the Grace of the Omnipresent. By the time they’d handed out the clothes and nailed down yet another smartass who’d tried to snatch a spear and stab the guards with it, only to then bolt into the woods, enough time had passed for dawn to begin breaking. Heavy, dark clouds covered the leaden sky; the wind still carried dampness and cold; birds, mostly crows, cawed ominously. Leonid didn’t really believe that they were all being so watched over and protected, but he doubted he’d be able to escape, even if they let him. Or rather, he could run away, but how far could he get?

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:25

The group of newcomers, accompanied by their “saviors,” slowly and unhurriedly moved away from the point where they had arrived. There were fifty-one of them, the newcomers, not counting the bodies left in the amphitheater, which were neither buried nor given a funeral service, but simply stripped of whatever could be stripped off and had their heads cut off. In response to the strange looks from the survivors, they explained that the creeps rising from fresh corpses could be quite unpleasant. There were exactly twenty escorts, led by Grok, all dressed identically and each bearing the city’s coat of arms, for they had no right to wear the count’s or the king’s coat of arms—one of the escorts shared this information with a talkative newcomer, while Leonid listened and absorbed the knowledge.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:28

It became clear, for example, that Grok’s speech—though crude—was full of quite complex terms, a trait typical of a commander who would clearly have a highly developed intellect, were such a characteristic part of their system. The others spoke more simply, with a noticeably greater amount of profanity, filler words, and simply clumsy pronunciation. They made good time, though Leonid had a harder time of it, whereas those who had acquired the ill-fated skill and unlocked their innate abilities clearly found the journey noticeably easier. Or perhaps they were simply accustomed to the hardships of life on the march, unlike the city slicker from planet Earth. An uncomfortable emptiness gnawed at his stomach, and they had promised food only for dinner, while the escorts themselves snacked on the go, without slowing down and in strict order, so that at least three observers watched the chewer with full attention.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:29

The brief one-hour stop was marked by one of the local men whispering something to a slightly plump but pretty woman from the group of visitors, after which they slipped away behind a large boulder while a couple of his friends kept watch. Grok just muttered a curse under his breath but waved his hand, and the satisfied man then handed the girl—who didn’t look the least bit upset—some simple food, which she devoured quickly and without any intention of sharing it with anyone. Some looked at her with contempt, some with mockery, some with indifference—like Leonid—and some with undisguised greed and envy. Instead of envy, the newcomer decided to try once more to make sense of what the Omnipresent System had given him, namely, his pair of worthy skills. The three points he’d been given for his rebirth were practically burning in his hands; he wanted to invest them as soon as possible, especially in “Fortitude,” to make his arduous journey just a little easier.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:31

“Meditation” itself felt like a sort of background noise in the back of his mind, because the isekai truly knew—he just knew—exactly how to attune himself to the world around him, how to become one with it, and how to begin drawing strength from his surroundings, calming both his mind and body. And this was with a zero on the skill proficiency scale, which made his stomach clench at the thought of how his consciousness would be blown away by a full thousand. Would anything human remain by that point, or would something entirely different take its place? It’s a question with no answer, and he isn’t even sure if he wants to hear that answer, look for it, or even ask the question.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:32

There were three options to choose from among the available skills. The first was a passive ability called “Energy Recharge,” which could be leveled up to a maximum of five, but currently couldn’t go beyond level two; I needed to raise my Level and level up the skill itself. Judging by the rather sparse description, this passive skill increased the rate of stamina and mana regeneration, and the more free energy there was around, the stronger the effect—and, as the same description stated, free energy is everywhere, in everything, and everyone. Unless, of course, the flows of magical energy were blocked or cut off—though the methods for doing so varied for each of the many other types of energy. The first talent in this skill doubled the rate of replenishment, but that was hard to quantify, since there were still no exact figures. The main thing is that he’ll recover his strength faster, which is very important for the upcoming expedition.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:45

The second skill turned out to be quite useful. It was called “Introspection,” had a maximum of three steps of development, and allowed him to accelerate and simplify his descent into meditation, opening himself up to the surrounding world and its currents. Considering his skill level was still at zero, it was a useful thing to have, even though he could manage without it. Without spending a point, he would get distracted by external stimuli, constantly lose focus, and so on. With a point spent, the same would happen, but not as regularly, not as severely.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:47

The last skill available for selection turned out to be the “inner eye,” which also had a maximum of three points. Perhaps it’s standard practice for passive skills to have more points available for development, or perhaps there’s something else at play here. It allows one to seem to soar above the body and perceive the surroundings in this state. It wasn’t possible to leave the body through this eye—not at the current level—but one could simply contemplate the surrounding world, and not just the material one: currents of force, flows of energy. Observing these, if the description is to be believed, improves the skill itself and brings a little experience. It’s like watching a tutorial video, honestly, just now without sound, only with the image.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:49

As for Fortitude, “Active Resonance” was available from the start at three steps, but it couldn't be raised beyond the first step, given the current zero rank and undeveloped skill bar; at least one skill needed to be improved. The skill temporarily increased resistance to all negative effects upon activation, while consuming part of the caster’s mana reserve. By the way, there were no numerical indicators for mana or health anywhere—just a visual bar showing the reserve level, and that’s it. They didn’t even show health or stamina with two other bars, apparently figuring that you’d feel it yourself if you were dying or getting tired.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:52

The second ability was passive, with a maximum of five points, but it could not be raised above level three. It was called “Dense Aura” and increased resistance to all subtle energy effects, such as curses, suggestions, debuffs, and the like. At the second step, the effect increased by about a third, and at the third step, a qualitative leap occurred, whatever that might be. The second and final passive ability turned out to be “Tough Body,” also with five steps, only here you could level them all up at once; there were no restrictions. The first level strengthens and improves the entire body evenly; the second focuses on the bones, slightly increasing their density in the process; the third revealed some kind of improvement, though it was unclear exactly what it was.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 11:54

After giving it a moment’s thought, the Earthling—who was starting to feel tired and was gradually losing ground—decided not to spend any points, saving them for later. He did it because he’d managed to gain a single point in the Fortitude during that time, moving up from zero. And it had an effect, even if he couldn’t say how much of that effect was real benefit and how much was self-delusion. Placebos hadn’t been canceled, true. But even so, it seemed to him that his feet, already rubbed raw by his lack of shoes, were hurting less, and his breathing had stopped wheezing as he walked. Without knowing what to invest in or where, he would only hurt himself, ruining his build—so was it worth the risk if he was managing just fine anyway?

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 12:03

Here are a few fellow sufferers who managed to unlock that very basic “Survival” skill, and one even picked up a higher-level skill. Worthy one: “Traveler.” According to a satisfied Grok, the very first skill, unless the Omnipresent has gifted a random one, is always acquired incomparably easier than all the others, literally in a day, and there’s a chance to get something above the ordinary. That’s why he’s pushing them all, though this is just Leonid’s guess, since Grok didn’t say anything directly. He’s pushing them to awaken the right skill in as many people as possible, and then to cash in on a bonus for bringing such gifted newcomers to the city.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 12:09

The break was over, and Leonid stood up and joined the rambling column, having never used the three points he had been given, preferring to think things over a little longer—preferably in a normal, calm setting. Instead of pondering, he had to march forward again and constantly endure the shouts of his escorts. Those who protested could have been encouraged with a slap, but Leonid didn’t take offense, because he saw genuine apprehension in the eyes of the guards. They clearly didn’t like the stretch of open terrain between several hills, especially when they had to climb a hill, leaving themselves exposed to the whole wide world.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 12:16

The next hour of the journey passed quickly, though it was quite tedious, for we had to walk uphill. The road—lousy as it was—wound and meandered through the hills, the lowest and gentlest of which the road builders had ignored and failed to bypass. Importantly, the road wasn’t dirt but paved with stones, though it was heavily overgrown, rutted, and frequently interspersed with patches of slightly waterlogged dirt. No, surely the local peasants didn’t drag those stones out to build houses, did they? There aren’t even any ruins in sight, just hills and dense forests covering those hills to the left and right of their path.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 12:17

At one point, as he tried to enter a meditative trance, he almost achieved something resembling success, feeling like a fish in a river’s current. Something ephemeral, barely perceptible, yet almost tangible to his current perception, literally surrounded him. He breathed this something in, walked through it, absorbed it through his skin. And in the moment of his concentration, he even slightly accelerated this absorption, feeling a slight influx of power, relief in his aching muscles, which a moment later gave way to pain in his face. No, he hadn’t soared above himself, as promised in the skill’s description; he’d simply managed to trip and fall, unable to get his bearings and landing face-first on the ground. Fortunately, not on one of the many rocks—which wouldn’t have taken long to crack his skull—but only on the soft grass.

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 12:24

Not even a bruise remained! And no new ones appeared, because he got back on his feet and started walking again faster than his guards could start beating him up. Although maybe he should have stayed down, then they might have offered some help instead of all this. But he got the impression that the most Grok and company would do for him would be to strip him of his issued clothes and leave him to die. However, all that paled in comparison to the fact that his meditation skill had also moved from zero to the top of level one. Nine hundred and ninety-nine more to go, and he could consider himself an expert!

Camrad_RIP 05.05.26 в 17:09