NOVEL NEXT Chapter 10: A Rift in Space
The week after establishing [The Veiled Path] and getting that first, fragile news about my family's relative safety passed in a blur of focused activity that bordered on obsession. That strange, almost unnerving "cognitive streamlining" the Prime System had mentioned was in full effect. My emotions about the sheer craziness of my situation, the cosmic unfairness of it all, were present but… put away. Like unruly prisoners kept under lock and key. It allowed for an almost monk-like dedication to the tasks at hand.
The concentrated Primal Essence I'd absorbed from the Umbral Matriarch Lurker still thrummed inside me, a potent, restless reservoir. Cultivation, I'd discovered, was an almost instinctual process of directing this internal energy through focused meditation and visualization. I would sit for hours in the quiet chill of my Sanctum, picturing that inner sea of power, then mentally coaxing streams of it towards specific parts of myself. Directing it to my Body felt like manually infusing warmth and resilience into my very cells; my muscles felt denser, my bones harder after each session. Boosting my Mana reserves was like deepening a well; the tingling sensation of available energy grew richer, more substantial. Nurturing my Spirit was the most abstract, yet maybe the most profound. It felt like polishing a lens inside my mind, enhancing clarity, focus, and the subtle sense of my own soul's presence. Each "cultivation" session left me feeling subtly stronger, more integrated. My status, when I checked, confirmed the real results: Body had climbed by 4 points, now at 184; Mana saw a similar boost of 4, to 164; and my Spirit edged up by 3, reaching a solid 221. It wasn't a dramatic leap, but steady, undeniable progress. It showed how potent the Boss Variant's essence had been.
The following week, however, was different. The Lurker's Primal Essence was now fully assimilated, and further growth would require fresh infusions. Hunting became a more calculated, necessary task. Early in the week, driven by the need for QS and more Primal Essence, I'd tracked a lone Tier 2 predator — a sleek, six-limbed beast with hide-like scaled obsidian and claws that could shear through stone, an Obsidian Stalker. Knowing its potential danger and speed, I had reluctantly used my [Glimpse of a Path] Soul Ability to understand its attack patterns before fighting it. The vision had been crucial — a chaotic blur of black scales and flashing claws. It showed me how its initial attack was a feint, followed by a devastating pounce from an unexpected angle, and revealed a momentary vulnerability under its jaw when it recovered.
The actual fight was still brutal and desperate, even with foresight. It happened in a grove of petrified, crystal-barked trees, the Stalker a black nightmare against their pale surfaces. My new weapon — a (Common) Reinforced Shortspear with a wickedly sharp, rune-etched tip I'd bought from the Prime System Shop for 10 QS — whined as it deflected its razor claws. The impacts jarred my arms. The Stalker's hiss was like tearing silk. But the kill, when it came, was clean — a precise thrust to that vulnerable spot, guided by the Glimpse's warning. After absorbing its soul-signature, the Primal Essence reservoir it yielded was, as expected, far less than the Lurker's; a noticeable but not overwhelming surge. I converted all of it into Quintessence Shards, gaining a welcome 50 QS. This, unfortunately, left my [Glimpse of a Path] on another week-long cooldown.
Later, after returning to the Sanctum, I'd asked the System a question that had been nagging at me. "My stats are only just past Tier 2 for Spirit, and my Body and Mana are still firmly Tier 1. Why am I able to handle Tier 2 threats, even with preparation and foresight like with the Stalker? It feels like more than just good luck."
The System's interface flickered. For the first time since we started interacting, there was a distinct, almost palpable hesitation before its response formed. Usually, its answers were swift, clinical, a seamless flow of data. This was different. The blue letters seemed to form more slowly, with a certain reluctance.
[User Eren Kai's inquiries regarding operational mechanics and environmental data have, thus far, fallen within acceptable parameters for Prime System disclosure to an entity of your unique designation and developmental trajectory.]
[However, detailed explication of specific contributing factors underlying your observed combat performance variations against higher-Tiered entities — particularly those intrinsic factors involving Soul Gate harmonic resonance patterns, efficiencies in ambient Essence conversion rates, and certain uncatalogued inherent variables specific to your soul's S+ grade architecture — currently transcends permissible information access protocols for your current stage of integration and direct observation.]
[Further inquiry into this specific line of questioning is inadvisable at this juncture. Such knowledge may precipitate premature developmental deviations or attract unwanted external scrutiny from less impartial observers.]
Inadvisable. The word hung in the blue light with a weight I hadn't felt before. It wasn't just cryptic; it was a gentle but firm deflection, almost a warning. My S+ Soul Strength and Grade A Soul Gate were clearly doing more than just processing Essence efficiently; they were the "uncatalogued inherent variables," the core of whatever made me capable of punching so far above my stat weight class. And the Prime System, for its own mysterious reasons, was deliberately keeping that information quiet. Perhaps to protect me, perhaps to preserve the integrity of its "observation." The thought that this knowledge could attract "unwanted external scrutiny" sent a chill through me.
Shaking off the unsettling feeling, I focused on what I could control. After the spear purchase, my QS balance from the Lurker stood at a paltry 5 QS. The Stalker kill brought it up to 55 QS. I considered enhancing my Sanctum, but the 'Erudition' Core Resonance was still locked behind requirements I didn't meet, and other upgrades felt like luxuries I couldn't yet afford. Instead, I turned to the Prime System Shop's skill offerings. My new spear felt good, solid in my hands, but my technique was clumsy, self-taught, and inefficient.
[Basic Spear Mastery (Common) — Price: 50 QS. Provides foundational understanding of spear combat forms, improving attack accuracy, parrying efficiency, strike power, and overall weapon handling. Includes katas for muscle memory imprinting. Occupies 1 System Skill slot. Acquire?]
A Common skill, nothing fancy, but exactly what I needed to build a solid foundation. "Acquire."
The 50 QS vanished from my balance. Like with my [Mana Manipulation] skill, a stream of intuitive knowledge flowed into me — not just abstract concepts, but a real understanding of stances, thrusts, parries, defensive circles, and intricate footwork. It felt as though years of practice had been compressed into a few seconds; my muscles already twitched with the ghost-memory of movements they hadn't yet performed. Practicing with the spear now felt completely different — it was an extension of my will, balanced and responsive, not just a pointed stick I was flailing about. My System Skill slots now read (3/10), occupied by [Prime Axiom's Nullifying Veil], [Mana Manipulation], and now [Basic Spear Mastery]. I was left with 5 QS again.
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The rest of the week, while waiting for my Glimpse to recharge, was divided between getting water from the nearby stream (a surprisingly pure source, cascading over mossy rocks), practicing my spear forms until my muscles burned and sweat stung my eyes, and cautious exploration. My [Prime Axiom's Nullifying Veil]'s passive effect was my constant companion during these scouting missions, a comforting shroud of normalcy. I always kept within a few hours' trek of my Sanctum, meticulously mapping out routes, noting strange, pulsating plants, and carefully, meticulously avoiding any sign of creatures I felt I couldn't handle — a distant roar, a patch of ground scored by enormous claws, a tree snapped like a twig.
During my physical training, however, I noticed something disheartening. Despite pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion daily, performing the newly learned spear katas until I was slick with sweat and trembling, my Body stat seemed to have plateaued at 184. The intense burn and subsequent recovery didn't seem to translate into numerical gains anymore, no matter how hard I pushed.
"System," I asked one evening, frustration in my voice as I nursed aching shoulders, "my physical training doesn't seem to be increasing my Body attribute any further. Am I doing something wrong? Or is there some kind of limit I've hit?"
[Corporeal enhancement via simple physical exertion and standard nutrient intake yields diminishing returns once a User's current biological framework has reached its adaptation threshold for their prevailing Tier and internal Essence saturation levels. Further significant advancement in the Body attribute now primarily requires direct cultivation of potent Primal Essence specifically allocated to corporeal integration, or assimilation of unique bio-energetic catalysts from suitable external sources (e.g., potent creature hearts, specialized alchemical elixirs, unique xeno-flora exhibiting high vitality). Your current regimen maintains peak conditioning and refines neuromuscular pathways but will not alone suffice for substantial further raw attribute growth without targeted Primal Essence investment or catalyst consumption.]
So, just working out like a madman wasn't enough anymore. I needed to consciously feed my body more of that potent Primal Essence from kills, or find exotic, power-boosting ingredients. That meant more hunting, more risk. The universe wasn't handing out free power-ups.
My Mana training was equally confusing at times, though progress there was slower but steadier. The [Mana Manipulation] skill had given me the "how," but the "what" — the actual spells — was still up to me. A process of trial, error, and intense mental focus. I'd figured a basic fireball would be a good starting point — a classic offensive spell, versatile and direct. I spent hours trying to shape my Mana, to compress it, to imbue it with the concept of heat and light. The System had explained that Mana responded to strong mental imagery and unwavering intent. My attempts, however, were often fizzles, brief sparks that died instantly, or misshapen blobs of warm air that did nothing. Occasionally, I'd manage a sputtering, golf-ball-sized flicker of orange flame that would wink out almost immediately, leaving behind the smell of ozone and my own frustration. My control was still at a novice level; translating a clear mental image into a stable energy blast was incredibly taxing on my Spirit. After days of frustrating practice, however, hunched in my Sanctum until my head throbbed, I finally managed to produce a small, crackling ball of flame, about the size of my fist, that held its shape for a few precious seconds before dissipating with a soft pop. It wouldn't incinerate anything tougher than dry leaves, but it was fire, my fire, conjured from my will. And for the Rift, fire, even a small amount, might be useful.
It was on one of these scouting expeditions, towards the end of this second week of training, that I found it. A shimmering distortion in the air, like a translucent mirror hanging in the air. It pulsed with a faint, internal violet light and gave off a barely perceptible, high-pitched hum that made the hairs on my arms stand on end and my teeth ache. It was nestled in a small, shadowed clearing, surrounded by towering, crystal-veined trees that seemed to lean away from it. Their leaves rustled uneasily, as if they instinctively disliked it.
"System," I asked, my voice low, spear held ready, every sense on high alert, "what is that?"
[Scanning… Anomaly identified: Unstable Dimensional Rift – Low Intensity (Estimated Tier 2 Manifestation Potential). Rifts are temporary, naturally occurring trans-dimensional apertures, often forming in areas of high or fluctuating ambient Essence concentration, or where dimensional membranes are thin. They typically connect to fragmented pocket realities, chaotic interstitial spaces, or echoes of sundered worlds, often containing unique denizens, hazardous environments, or energetic phenomena. Rifts are inherently unpredictable and usually collapse after their internal energetic potential is exhausted, their primary anchoring entities are neutralized, or their dimensional anchor points destabilize.]
"So, like a dungeon?" I asked, my mind immediately going to RPG stuff.
[Negative. Dungeons, as understood within some cultural lexicons you possess from Terra, are often System-generated or magically stabilized constructs designed for repetitive challenge and resource generation, with denizens that may respawn according to set parameters. Rifts are singular, ephemeral events, tears in the fabric of reality. Once cleared or collapsed, they do not typically reform in the same spatio-temporal coordinates. Their contents are entirely random, products of the chaotic energies that birthed them, and often reflect no discernible pattern or purpose.]
A one-time opportunity. And "Tier 2 Manifestation Potential." That meant anything inside could be as tough as, or tougher than, the Stalker had been. But the potential rewards… Primal Essence, Quintessence Shards, perhaps even unique materials, lost knowledge, or even rare skill imprints. My gaze lingered on the pulsing violet shimmer. It felt dangerous, undeniably so, a silent promise of unknown perils. But also alluring, a siren song to the part of me that craved growth and understanding.
Finally, the week of waiting ended. [Glimpse of a Path] was ready once more. The internal readiness, the subtle hum of my Soul Ability vibrating deep within my core, was a familiar, potent reassurance. This Rift, with its unknown dangers and potential rewards, seemed like a worthy target for its powerful foresight.
I spent most of the day observing the Rift from a safe, concealed distance, using my [Prime Axiom's Nullifying Veil] to ensure I remained unnoticed. No creatures emerged, but the violet light within pulsed with a slow, rhythmic beat, like a distant, alien heart. The air around it felt charged, heavy with an unfamiliar type of Essence, sharp and almost metallic to my senses.
As the twin moons of this conjoined world cast their eerie, lavender light across the landscape, I approached the Rift's edge. My stats remained Body 184, Mana 164, Spirit 221. A week of dedicated skill practice, particularly with my [Basic Spear Mastery], had refined my technique and understanding, even if my raw power hadn't surged dramatically. My small, crackling fireball was a new, if modest, tool in my arsenal. But facing potentially multiple Tier 2 unknowns, in an environment I couldn't predict, still felt like a terrifying prospect.
I stood before the shimmering curtain of light, the entrance to a pocket of some other reality, a place not mapped by any System. With a deep breath, I stilled my mind, pushing away the fear, focusing my will. "[Glimpse of a Path]," I directed with pure thought, a silent command to my soul, and braced myself as the universe prepared to show me one of its myriad, dangerous futures.