Rot Heart: A LitRPG of Rot Magic in an Ancient World (Book 1 completed)

Awakening was, perhaps, the most important event of someone's life. More than unlocking one's inner world or discovering a bloodline, for most, it would define what they would become, how people saw them, and how they saw themselves.

Div knew that better than most, and yet, as he watched the boy's soul pulse with mana, he made no move to stop it.

Awakenings took two forms: natural and forced. In practice, it shouldn't make a difference in the resulting bloodline. It was just the end result of the soul being slowly infused with mana over the years, until it reached the threshold where the seed that was inside everyone bloomed.

But, forceful awakenings still required a certain amount of care. The bare minimum was to avoid using a skill that touched on the soul. Especially a new skill that hadn't been fully mastered yet.

Skill leveled up: Chorus of Renewal Lv1 -> Lv2

Div sighed. Seeing how Bound Genesis hadn't moved an inch since he evolved, he had started to think Evolved Rank skills were impossible to level. He didn't want to be proved wrong this way.

Lepin's eyes were open wide, unblinking.

"Are you alright?"

"I—" The boy started, before closing his mouth again.

Div kept his hand on his shoulder and inspected him.

Name: Lepin of Trabine

Bloodline: Molding Hands

Current Facet: None

Skills: None

"Damn it…" he muttered.

Skill leveled up: Inspect Lv6 -> Lv7

"Really?"

Was the world mocking him?

"What happened?" Lepin asked.

"I'm sorry. I triggered your awakening. I didn't mean to do that."

Lepin's eyes lit up. "What? Really? That's great!"

Div's chest tightened into a knot. "Check your bloodline."

Lepin frowned, then his expression morphed into surprise.

"Molding Hands? That's better than expected."

"I'm really sorry. I will make it up—what?"

"Well, yes. I was honestly expecting something worse." Lepin said, shrugging. "Thank you, Div. For helping me and for the awakening."

Div didn't know what to say. Was the boy truly happy with a bloodline called Molding Hands? It wasn't quite rot-attuned, but it was at least tangentially related to his own powers. At least, Lepin didn't seem to mind…

He stood up. "Well, let's get you home."

And figure out what to tell his parents on the way.

"Where do you live?"

Still on the ground, Lepin looked down, avoiding Div's gaze.

Div bit his lower lip. "So?"

"I… can get back by myself."

"Lepin, I drove off those soldiers, but they might come back."

"But…"

"Just tell me," Div ordered.

"No home. I live on the streets."

Div stared at the boy for a moment. No twitch of embarrassment, no stammer. Just quiet resignation. He didn't ask for more. If Lepin wanted to tell him his story, he would, but he knew that pressing him wasn't going to help.

"Streets, huh," Div said, his voice flat. "Great."

Lepin flinched, just slightly. "I can manage. Been doing it for a while. It's not—"

"It is what it is," Div cut in. "Don't pretend it's easy."

Lepin looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't. Just nodded once, slowly.

Div sighed again and stood. "Get up."

Lepin blinked. "What?"

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"I said, get up. You're coming with me."

"…Why?"

"Because I'm not letting you sleep outside."

"I don't need pity."

"This isn't pity," Div said, already walking. "It's logistics. You have no roof. I have a roof. It's not really mine, but sharing it with one more person won't hurt."

He didn't look back, but he heard Lepin's footsteps catch up after just a beat. The boy was quiet.

They walked in silence through the muddy outskirts. The night air hummed with the faint remnants of mana stirring from the protective formation buzzing over Trabine's walls.

After a while, Lepin asked, "You got a family?"

Div grunted. "No. Not anymore."

"Then, who do you live with?"

"Friends."

They arrived at the foot of the walls and followed them until Div found the house he and the others had been assigned to.

"Be quiet. It's late and they're probably sleeping."

Div wouldn't mind getting some sleep, too. Long day.

The door creaked open, making him cringe and hope it wouldn't wake his friends up. Near the hearth, he could make out the outline of Gennorina and Dana's sleeping figures.

Lugsellos was nowhere to be seen.

He wondered where he was, but having just arrived, he couldn't blame him for being late.

Div took Lepin to the other room.

"We'll sleep here."

"Thank you."

"But first, let's talk about your facets."

Div wasn't prepared for this, but he remembered Uncle Basil walking him through the process, even when everyone had turned their backs on him.

Facet of the Hoplite… Looking back, it had been the right choice. Even if he'd accepted rot magic back then, it wouldn't have helped him. Too complex, too much to study.

A spear and a shield were straightforward.

"What about my facet?" Lepin asked.

"What do you have available?"

The boy focused, his left hand coming to rest over his right, he scratched the back of his fingers.

"Facet of the Mold Grower…"

"And?"

"That's it!" Lepin said, a little too fast.

Div shook his head. "You have a second choice, don't you?"

Lepin didn't answer.

"You don't have to tell me. But, you should know that there are ways to peer through your status. If it's something you should be hiding…"

"Facet of the Thief."

Div didn't say anything for a long moment.

Facet of the Thief.

He studied the boy in front of him. Lepin wasn't squirming. His voice hadn't wavered. But his shoulders were tense, his gaze locked on the floor, like he was bracing for a blow.

"That's not a crime," Div said, slowly. "Having the option, I mean."

"But it says something about me, doesn't it?" Lepin's voice was tight. "What kind of person I am?"

"It says you survived," Div replied flatly. "And the world noticed."

Lepin blinked.

Div rubbed his eyes. He was tired. This kind of talk required patience and clarity, both of which were in short supply tonight. "The world doesn't assign facets because it wants to compliment you on your personality. It looks at what you did, what you are, and what you could be. It's reactive, reflective, but not judgmental."

"But people do judge."

"Yes. They do." Div looked up. He knew they did. "So what?"

Lepin's mouth opened, then closed again.

"That said," Div continued, "picking Facet of the Thief without a way to conceal your status would be admitting to your crimes. While I don't particularly care and understand you might have acted out of necessity, you're right to believe others won't necessarily extend the same courtesy."

Lepin hesitated. Then, after a long pause, he said, "I want to pick the other one. Mold Grower. Even if it's worse."

Div raised a brow. "Worse?"

Lepin hesitated, then shrugged. "Less useful. Less dangerous. Less… me, maybe."

"Or maybe more," Div said. "You chose. It took me a long time to reach that step."

Lepin gave a faint, crooked smile.

"Furthermore, I'm not convinced you're picking the easy path. It might not be rot magic, but mold can be quite gross. You won't avoid stares and judgments."

"It's fine. Can't be worse than how they see me now."

Div nodded. "Alright then. Confirm it."

The boy reached inward. His breath slowed, his eyes fluttering shut. A faint shimmer crossed his skin—brief, almost invisible. But Div felt it. The moment the choice solidified. The soul adjusting, locking into a path.

Lepin looked at his hands. "Huh."

"What does it do?"

"I can… grow mold. Like, anywhere I want. And I can feel it. Know what kind it is, what they're good for. Even the dangerous ones."

Div rubbed his jaw. "Not bad. A bit weird, sure, but what did you expect?"

Lepin grinned. "You're not wrong."

"Alright," Div stood up. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be worse."

The boy looked like he wanted to say something else, but stopped. He lay down on the mat, curling up under the thin blanket Div had tossed him.

Div settled on his side of the room, staring at the ceiling. He didn't expect to sleep, but exhaustion dragged him down fast.

Morning came far too soon. Gray light slipped through the cracks in the shutters. Outside, a pair of birds chirped, then fled as someone knocked on the door.

Sharp. Polite. Not the kind of knock that asked permission.

Div was already halfway up when Dana appeared from the other room, rubbing her eyes.

"Who—"

Another knock. Louder this time.

Div opened the door. A man.

"You are Div?"

"I am."

"You and your companions are summoned. The elders wish to speak to you. Now."

Div glanced back. Lepin was already awake, already on his feet.

"Fine," he said. "Give us a minute."

The messenger nodded once, then stepped back to wait.

Div looked at Lepin. "This might be about your awakening. Or about what I did. Maybe both."

"You think I'm in trouble?"

"You? Probably not. I might be, though," Div said. "Get ready."

Gennorina and Dana looked at each other, their thoughts still muddled by the abrupt rousing.

Dana gathered the courage to ask. "Div, what did you do again?"

"And who's that boy?" Gennorina asked. "And, where is Lug?"