Surviving The Myriad Worlds (A Multiplanar LitRPG)

Dante weaved through the thick undergrowth of a verdant jungle. Sweat ran off his back in rivulets as he seemed to swim through the humid air. Unseen vines seemed to reach out to trip him at every step. Near his limit, he hid behind a massive tree that a dozen of him, linked arm in arm, could not wrap around. Dante took heaving breaths and wished that he had found water. Despite its seeming prevalence, untainted sources were few and far between. It wasn't like he had the time to search for any. It was taking a toll even on his superhuman endurance, and especially considering that he was poisoned twice over.

The only warning Dante had was a slight whistling, but that was more than sufficient. He was well familiar with that accursed sound. Dante kicked off the tree despite his shrieking, poison-stricken limbs and dove through the air. He quickly followed it up with a shaped, charged burst of his repulsive aura, which drove him further.

Not a moment too soon. The tree exploded behind him, sending chunks of wood shrapnel spraying outward. They met his aura, were stopped, and sent him flying farther than he intended.

Cursing, Dante flipped around and flexed his aura against the ground. He still hit hard, but rolled off the extra momentum, and was up on his feet barely a moment later. Right where he had been taking shelter against the ancient tree, a huge chunk had been taken out of the tree. Large enough that he was afraid it would fall.

The cause was a crude metallic spear, which had formed a small crater amongst knobbled roots. It was a nasty piece of work, pitted and rusted like it had been stuck there for generations. Dante knew from personal experience that getting stuck with that thing was a horrific experience. The entire thing was as good as barbed and left a viscous wound much larger than the entry. He had gained a few levels of [Pain Resistance] from that alone.

It definitely ranked in the top three most agonizing experiences of the last couple of days.

But now was not the time to dally. If he knew Moeris, and he had become quite acquainted with that sadist, then there would be a follow-up. The man delighted in attacking him the instant he felt safe.

The instant Dante detected a slight rumble below his left foot, he danced out of the way. Multiple metal spikes erupted from the ground where he had paused. Dante kept his momentum going, sprinting away as fast as he could as more spikes trailed him. By applying his force aura to the ground beneath him, he lightened his weight substantially and cleared some of the foliage, allowing him to cover more ground with each stride. It was a useful trick, though one that had seen him faceplant many times before he had gotten the hang of it.

Dante kept going until the shattered tree was out of sight, then pivoted hard to the right and slid behind a collapsed log. Moeris would always give him a few seconds headstart after Dante escaped his clutches, but would always catch up to him no matter how fast he tried to run. Though, as demonstrated before, hiding would only get him so far. Dante sighed.

As much as he hated it, he would have to use that.

Dante activated [Camouflage] and a tide of green swept across his skin and, more slowly, his clothes. In a few moments, he matched the vegetation surrounding him. The longer he lingered, the more detailed the deception became. The ability was leagues better than before, clothes often showed far more than skin after all, and it would be an ideal disguise, save for one thing.

His already bone-tired limbs felt as if they had just had boulders strapped to them. Ones that were growing ever heavier at a noticeable rate. While the stamina consumption of the skill had reduced when he had selected the specialization, it was still very draining. The only reason Dante had managed to use for as long and as many times as he had today was because of his improvements to his endurance.

On the bright side, this let him rest his aching muscles. For all the good it did. While the muscle dissolution poison had mostly worn off by this point, the healing potions did not perfectly relieve the muscle damage, accumulating over time. And there were the effects from the Viscera Fortification potion to consider.

His stomach groaned and Dante shuddered. That had been an unpleasant experience of a wholly different sort. He had hardly gotten any sleep last night. The nausea that potion had caused was nearly indescribable. It felt like his stomach was trying to escape his body for the entire night. And it had only spread from there. He had lost count of the number of times he had dry heaved and Dante had not known that heartburn could be so literal. The symptoms had faded as morning came along, but had not entirely disappeared. Even now, three days later, the effects remained.

But it had worked. Oh, it had worked. Just when the worst had passed, he had received a notification.

You have acquired the [Distributed Organs] Trait.

And that trait had been retroactive. His constitution and endurance now rested at 23 and 25, respectively. Moreover, it proved a sneaking suspicion that Dante had had for a while. Next to his original constitution value was his new value in parentheses. Moreover, his endurance, which had always been like this, had increased by five percent.

This meant that one of his mysterious other traits gave him an additional 20 percent extra endurance. He thought it was likely [Human Tenacity]. Dante remembered hearing something about humans running down mammoths and other prey in prehistory. It would make sense that the system would identify that as what made humans distinct.

It's a little insulting that is what the system considers special about humans above everything else. I would have hoped it would have been an intelligence boost or some sort of social bonus, but I guess this means that such traits are not special among the intelligent races. I guess that leaves [Fickle Fate] as the only unknown left.

His train of thought ground to a halt as his enhanced hearing picked up soft, repeated squelches of mud. Dante tensed, forcing his screaming muscles back into readiness. Not daring to look or even breathe, he waited as the sounds came closer. There was only one person who that could be.

He would get one shot at this.

There was no way he could hope to beat Moeris in a head-to-head fight, even if the bastard was holding back. Hell, the entire thing was theater. That monster knew exactly where Dante was; he just pretended he didn't. He was at the mercy of that man's whims. A fact which irked him further.

The footsteps halted, right where he had dived into his hiding space. Dante took a slight risk and tilted his head towards the noise. Moeris, dressed impeccably as ever in an untouched officer's uniform of white and gold fit for a parade, was kneeling over a disturbed spot of ground. Belatedly, Dante realized that his trail ended there.

His breath caught as Moeris looked in the opposite direction. Dante must have impressed him with his earlier evasion if he left such an opening. This was the best opportunity he had gotten for an ambush … perhaps ever?

Dante reached for a pouch at his belt and slipped out a heavy crossbow bolt. Letting his aura take it from his fingers, he floated it above his palm, created a vacuum around it, then applied a finger of aura to its shaft. It quickly spun up to a frightening speed and Dante knew that he only had a handful of seconds before it exploded. He had not yet solved that flaw with the technique.

In one smooth motion, he pointed the bolt at Moeris and pulsed his aura, letting it catch the bolt and send it rocketing. A piercing whistle filled the air as it exited the vacant pocket and it lanced towards Moeris. It lasted barely an instant, but it was enough to alert the man. Faster than the eye could see, Moeris's hand whipped up to snatch the bolt.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Just as Dante had planned.

As the Moeris's hand closed around the bolt, his fingers twisted as they met the revolving shaft and the bolt twisted out of his grasp. A flicker of surprise ran across Moeris's features as the bolt continued on its journey. It still did not hit him, of course, but it did force him to dodge backwards.

Dante wanted to pump a fist at the victory, minor as it was. That was the first time he had broken through one of Moeris's guard. He had waited to try his spinning trick until he was sure it would hit. But stopping to celebrate would be premature.

He pressed his still empowered aura against the ground, letting Dante rise from his reclined position with a spring. For all of Dante's haste, Moeris was composed and ready for him. The man stood there, hands behind his back, utterly unconcerned.

It was a good thing Dante had another trick.

As he advanced on the old soldier, Dante lifted another bolt from the pouch with his aura and hovered it behind his back. While Dante would have liked to spin it again, he hadn't quite mastered doing that while fighting yet.

There was no good way to attack Moeris, but Dante settled for a probing jab, which was dismissively blocked. He had to yank his hand back as Moeris tried to catch it on the rebound. That had been their new thing once Dante adjusted to being thrown, grappling.

The first time it had happened, Moeris had simply stated: "Only a fool would willingly let an enemy go," and then proceeded to dislocate his shoulder. Apparently, tapping out was a concept that did not exist here. Needless to say, once Moeris caught him, it was all over.

Dante's learned strategy so far against Moeris had been to fight defensively until he found an opening. A leg placed a hair too far, a lagging block, or a misplaced glance were the best he got. Moeris would occasionally show such a minuscule opening to give him a chance, though half the time it was a bait. Still, Dante had to attack eventually or else Moeris would tire of the game and crush him ruthlessly.

Fortunately, such an opportunity chose to present itself.

A ray of sunlight shone directly into Moeris's eyes, causing him to squint slightly. Dante lunged forward, past the old soldier's guard, and grappled him. He reached a hand up and managed to cover one of Moeris's eyes.

It would have to do.

Dante shot the bolt towards Moeris's leg on his blind side and hoped that he would finally land his first hit ever on the man. This was certainly the closest he had gotten.

As it turned out, he would not get a step further.

Moeris hooked his leg and Dante grunted as the bolt that he had fired sank deep into his own thigh. It hardly took a push to make Dante stumble backwards and collapse. He went limp, accepting his defeat.

"Take heart that your little ambush would have injured anyone else who is on your level. If they blindly stumbled into your trap, that is." Moeris crouched over him and grabbed onto the protruding bolt. Dante took a deep breath and readied himself for the impending pain. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened and likely wouldn't be the last. It was at moments like these that he wished that he had selected [Pain Nullification]. Alas, he could not risk selecting any of the options at the moment. The only reason he allowed himself to select [Camouflage] was because he rarely used it previously.

Dante didn't quite muffle the whimper as the bolt was deftly pulled out. Moeris didn't comment on it, wordlessly pouring the eighth healing potion of the day over the wound. When it was done, all that remained was the bone-deep weariness of the last few days.

There was something that the healing potions could not recover. Some bone-deep weariness that slowed his limbs and cast a fog over his mind. And he was only halfway through the allotted week of his training.

"Get up. We are out of time and you need to make yourself presentable for Siluv. I will not have her berate me again for sending you along with twigs in your hair."

Moeris cast some kind of spell and the dense jungle around him faded. Dante was seized by a dropping sensation as he fell a few inches onto the actual ground. Soon enough, he found himself back in the vast training room that he had not left in days.

When Moeris had activated that function of the room, Dante had been stunned beyond words. Apparently, it was some kind of physical illusion where matter was created from mana and projected around him. There was some kind of dimensional warping or teleportation going on as well, as the rainforest that Dante had been in had been far larger than this room.

It seemed like an incredible piece of magical engineering and was probably incredibly expensive to run as a boot. Normally, Dante would be excited over it, but such feelings had been exhausted by the drudgery of his days and the pain that occurred within that room. He wearily glanced at a few notifications, acknowledged them, and then dismissed them.

[Artillerest] has increased to Level 7

[Stealth] has increased to Level 4

[Camouflage] has increased to Level 6

Instead, he simply began preparing himself for the next lesson.

"I've noticed a few peculiarities about your aura."

That question managed to break Dante out of his [Hyper Focus] induced trance. With a pained sigh, Dante let go of the aura construct that he had been maintaining for the last few minutes. With the release of the tension came a spike of pain straight through his cerebellum. Dante immediately felt around his nostrils and looked at his fingers. Thankfully, no wetness or red met his gaze.

Whenever he started bleeding from his nose, their lessons were always swiftly put to an end. They ignored the other warning signs, like the fever or delirium, but that was the one line Siluv would not cross. Dante could feel that he was close to that point, but he had a little more to give. He was rather thankful for that fact, because it would mean it was time for etiquette training.

He would have preferred anything instead of that.

Dante realized that Siluv was looking at him with concern and he remembered that he had been asked a question. One that he failed to remember, try as he might. Perhaps he was more affected by aura exhaustion than he thought.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Your force aspected aura. It's rather unusual."

Dante had been hoping that hadn't been what she said. He would rather that his status as a Unique ability holder would go unnoticed. Though, given how closely they were working together, it was only a matter of time.

"How's that?" He responded, bracing himself for the worst.

"It's delusional. Or rather, it operates on a different set of logic than reality."

He blinked slowly, trying — and failing — to understand that statement. "I don't follow."

"Perhaps it's better to show you," Siluv said and a magic circle spun into existence above her hand. Two circles, he corrected himself. One for each affinity used in the spell. Wind and water. Syluv's two affinities. Following its completion, a winter storm sprang into existence and the temperature dropped sharply. It swelled around them, expanding exponentially until it hid the rest of the room.

Dante eyed it with jealousy. In his time under Syluv's tutelage, he had come to understand how much of a feat this was. Casting two circles like that required both to be held in the mind's eye. Given that each individual circle had the same level of complexity as the average page in a textbook. That is, if every character in that page needed to be changed, rotated, or inverted depending on the environment in which the spell was cast. Needless to say, this was a feat that was simply impossible for a mortal. Thus, why spellcasters needed cognition above all else.

His attention was caught by a flicker of movement in the storm, though he didn't quite catch what made it. It was all white on white out there. A twinge came from his aura and Dante turned just in time to see a golf ball-sized object stop a few feet from his face.

Hail? That's a new one.

Another twinge from the opposite direction, stronger this time. A force shoved Dante backwards and he nearly fell over. Finding his feet, he pushed back against a torrent of hail. It was too much. Dante was losing ground.

"Feel as your aura resists each and every chunk. Alone, they would not move you, but together they are greater." Dante could feel it alright, a strange sensation akin to having a weighted blanket draped over the front of his body as his aura transferred the force. It was merely oppressive now, but could turn to a bone-crushing pressure in a heartbeat. It was, in his eyes, the greatest flaw in the ability.

"Now, look back and remember how the earth's soil felt beneath you. Recall how your aura once stretched deep beneath the ground. Could you feel each rock and buried root?"

That was certainly not the turn that Dante expected this exercise to go, but he did his best to try and follow her instructions. It was true that he kept the majority of his aura buried in the ground — it didn't bother anyone there after all — but he had never focused on it. It wasn't that his aura didn't affect the ground. Dante left a trail of disturbed earth behind him as if he were a giant tortoise, but the sensory feedback he got from it was so overwhelming, he did his best not to ignore it.

"You, more than most, must be aware that the ground is composed of multiple parts. Uncountable grains of sand, rocks, and decomposing matter. Far more matter than the ice assaulting you right now. Why is then, that your aura pushes against the hail and not the ground? If it worked the same, should you not be flying right now?"