The Survival Guide of Hell-Difficulty Characters

Rumble!

The dark clouds groaned above their heads. Lightning flashed between grey masses, heralding the beginning of a terrible storm, and yet, Lysander's gaze remained fixed towards the waters, hands gripping his fishing rod like a sword.

Nearby, Rowena and Creston sat beneath a clear, blue sky, their bobbers floating in the calm waves.

Zeke sat next to the elder brother, but his attention was elsewhere.

< Skill Description >

Name: Telekinesis

Type: Active Skill

Tier: A

Cost: 2 MP per second

Effects

- Allows the user to apply force on an object(s) within sight.

- Weight range and power scales with the user's <Magic> stat.

<<>>

< Skill Description >

Name: Thunderstorm

Type: Active Sub-Skill

Tier: B

Cost: 50 MP

Cooldown: 60 seconds

Effects

- Generates a thunder storm with a 2-meter radius.

Bonus Effects

- Lightning from the skill automatically strikes any target of the user's choice once every 3 seconds.

- Increases <Lightning> damage by 10% if a <Lightning> element skill is within <Thunderstorm>'s range.

<<>>

"Right. I still have that Skill Fusion Scroll from defeating the Half-Lich," Zeke spared a glance at Lysander's bait, but as expected, nothing had happened at all. "I've been sitting here since sunrise, and now it's almost noon. I might as well go stretch my legs and use it."

"I'm going for a walk," Zeke said as he stood up, brushing dirt from his trousers, "Scream if something happens."

Lysander only gave a short nod in response. Zeke stretched his arms above his head as he headed into the grove. Gravel and stray twigs crunched between his feet, and he stopped when he only heard the sound of his own steps.

"I gave it a long thought about what skills I wanted to combine." Zeke pulled the Scroll from his inventory. A system interface blinked in front of him, split into two sides with a '+' in the middle. "Now that I have Telekinesis, I might as well push it to its final form."

[Please choose two (2) skills to combine.]

[Selection: <Telekinesis> + <Gravity>]

[Confirm? Yes/No]

[Used x1 <Skill Fusion Scroll>]

[Congratulations! You've gained the Active Skill <Field of Dominion>]

< Skill Description >

Name: Field of Dominion

Type: Active Skill

Tier: S

Cost: 5 MP per second

Effects

- Allows the user to apply force on an object(s) within a self-designated 30-meters-radius. (Defaulted as around the user.)

- Within the field, all hostile entities will be <Marked>.

- Weight range and power scales with the user's <Magic> + <Constitute> stats.

Bonus Effects

- Other skills within range gains a 5% damage boost.

- Other skills within range gains a 5% accuracy boost.

- When used with the skill <Tyrant's Majesty>, the skill's mana cost is reduced to 1 MP per second.

<<>>

"What the fuck?" Zeke's eyes turned round at the last line on the panel, jaw practically dropping to his heels. "I didn't know Field of Dominion had a combo skill. It's already OP on its own…but reducing mana cost to only one? My extrasensory stat already reduces mana cost by five percent so…"

A breeze swept through his silence.

Zeke waved, as if swatting away all the mental calculations in his mind's eyes. "…Who am I kidding? A five percent reduction off of one is only a 0.05 difference."

"I GOT IT!"

Lysander's shout echoed through the trees, snapping Zeke out of his thoughts. He made his way back in time to see him hurled a four-foot eel-like creature into the air, his fishing rod blazing with blue aura.

The fish—The Stormjaw Levi—landed on the ground with a heavy thud. It slithered around, reared its head up, and let loose a thunderous cry, revealing serrated teeth like a chainsaw.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Lysander spotted Zeke in the corner of his vision, but he said nothing as he unsheathed his sword. "You are a formidable creature, fish! Today, I shall present your hide to my lady!"

"Cringe," Rowena narrowed her eyes, face scrunched up like someone poured lemon into her mouth. "Besides that, you need to preserve the body so you can show her what you caught. You're going to impress her with a rare fish, not a fish fillet."

"Easier said than done," Lysander frowned as he took a step back, avoiding the sparks of lightning dancing off the levi's body. "Hey Silas, are you sure that's a fish? It looks like it's breathing on land just fine."

Zeke twisted his wrist, and the Stormjaw Levi got slammed to the ground with a sickening 'crack!'. Its body twitched several times until the sparks died down along with the light in its eyes. "Yeah, it's a fish. But it's known for surviving minutes on land. The book said one of them dragged a rabbit into the river to drown and eat it."

A long silence stretched between them when Zeke met Lysander's eyes, their expressions blank. Zeke's lips parted, closed, but eventually he asked. "What's wrong?"

"You killed my fish." Lysander looked down at the lifeless levi, his voice held a pang of dejection. "I wanted to kill it myself…"

Zeke blinked, "Uh, not that I don't understand you, but how were you planning to kill it without chopping it to bits?"

"You said it could only breathe so long above land," Lysander sheathed his sword, "I was going to wait until then while cutting off any escape routes."

"…I should've clarified." Zeke cleared his throat into his fist. "It can breathe on land for 30 minutes."

"And?" Lysander tilted his head. Zeke stared at him for a second, and concluded that he was dead serious.

Zeke let out a long sigh, activating one more Thunderstorm. "Alright, alright…I'm sorry I stole your kill. Go catch another one then."

.

.

.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, their carriage had long left Redwood Grove behind it. Lysander took the rein, a light smile plastered across his face. Beside him, two Stormjaw Levi stacked on top of each other, tied up with some plants Rowena reeled up in the earlier fishing session.

The young lady leaned against Zeke, eyes closed, breathing steady and even. She'd fallen asleep half way through eating the remainder of Esmeralda's snacks. Meanwhile, Creston sat opposite of them, fingers locked against each other as he gazed out towards the passing scenery.

"…It's been enjoyable." The marquis' voice cut through the comfortable silence.

Zeke looked up, blinking. "Oh…I'm glad you found it so, father."

A beat passed. Creston took a deep breath. "I mean it. I was curious what my children would be up to on a trip like this, and I'm glad I decided to join."

"…Did you like fishing?" Zeke gave a small smile.

And unexpectedly, Creston returned it with his own. "I now know why the old commoners like it. It's rather relaxing."

Zeke took out one of the fishing rods from his inventory. "Then, you can have this. Although you'll have to get your own tackle box."

Creston took the rod like a knight being handed a sword, firm yet gentle. He looked down at it, but his miniscule smile soon retreated into a neutral face. "…Silas."

"Yes?" Zeke blinked, swallowing down his nervousness.

"You too, Lysander," Creston paused for a second, glancing behind him as if to make sure the elder brother was listening, "Do you believe I do not love your mother?"

Zeke jerked back. Well, that was out of the blue. "…If you want my full honesty, yes."

Lysander hummed, "I agree with Silas, father."

Their answers drew a long, worn sigh from Creston. "If that is so, why do you think I continue to have more children when my firstborn is already a boy?"

Zeke's lips fell agape. "So…you do love her?"

"Then why did you place her in a separate wing?" Lysander's voice remained steady, but they could hear the slight frustration lace his words.

"I thought it was for the best," Creston leaned further into his seat, "We weren't married out of love. I thought if I gave her all the luxury in the world, then she'd be happy. I didn't let her raise her own children because I heard it was an arduous task. I truly believed I had done the right thing."

"But," Creston continued before anyone could interrupt. He looked Zeke in the eyes, "I learned recently…from watching you and Lady Ruelle, that perhaps there was a better approach all along."

"Yeah." Zeke huffed, crossing his arms in disappointment. "Just tell her you like her and try to make her return your feelings. And if not? Don't ever force it."

Lysander clicked his tongue from the coachman's seat. "Listen to the love expert, father. He somehow got such a lovely lady to love him back."

"Oi, who was it that helped you with Lady Penelope?"

"My point still stands."

Creston nodded. "I'd been thinking about how to ask, but I'd like it if you could help me better the relationship between me and your mother."

"First thing first," Rowena straightened herself, grinning like the eavesdropping gremlin that she was. "Call her by name! What sort of husband avoids using his wife's name? None but you apparently!"

Zeke scoffed, "Looks like someone had a lot to say."

Rowena looked up at him, face deadpanned. "Father separated us from mother and made me believe she hated me all my life. I think I have plenty to say."

"Touche." Zeke shrugged, then shifted his focus back to Creston. "Anyhow, it'd be nice to simply speak your mind to her. Mother didn't look like she hated you either."

"I know it's simply an excuse," Creston sighed, "But my father treated my mother the same way, I was taught my whole childhood that emotions are a weakness."

"I can tell," Zeke tilted his head, "But now it's not yet too late to change. You were just cold to her for two decades. We can fix this."

"20 years…" Creston gazed out the window, "That is no small number…will she truly forgive me?"

"Don't know unless you try?" Zeke shrugged, offering a reassuring smile. "But I'm glad this short trip got you to loosen up a bit. Now, all you need to do is go up to her and come clean with everything. Say you want to 'start over'."

Creston let out a breath, but this time, his shoulders relaxed as if the entire weight of the world had vanished. "I see…thank you, Silas. Your advice has helped me see the flaws in my actions."

Zeke hummed. "…Still too strict, but it's a good start," he glanced at Rowena, "Hey, I think you should be the middlewoman between them in case something happens."

Rowena chuckled, eyes dead. "You got a bad feeling too? Yeah, don't worry, I got this."

.

.

.

The Peregrine estate was always too quiet at night.

Circe stepped silently across the polished floor of the marquis' study, the moonlight a thin silver against the curtained, high windows. Her presence hid behind the <Stealth> skill of her Darkwing Mantle, not even a whisper could escape. The room smelled of ink, parchment, and something faintly metallic.

"Lily told me she heard those brothers talking about something odd…If what she said was true, then this could mean I'm—No, both me and Zeke are in danger."

Her eyes scanned the desk, then snapped onto a folder tucked beneath a ledger. Slipping it out carefully with her gloved fingers, she unfolded the brittle papers inside.

She narrowed her gaze. The ink didn't match. Some lines were written in hurried scripts. Some in neat handwriting she recognized vaguely from the other unrelated documents stacked neatly on the table.

"Two vials confirmed. Delivered to Redroot Wharf under 'falcon feathers' crate. Recipient: R. Falwin. Payment received."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Who the heck is R. Falwin?"

'Step.'

Footsteps outside the door.

Circe froze. She still hadn't finished reading the remainder of the contents, but she swiftly placed everything back where she found them.

A second later, the door swung open. Two of Ruelle's brothers entered—Aiden and Albert, mid-conversation, their laughter sharp and hollow.

"Hey, be careful. Father said not to touch anything but that on his desk," Aiden warned as the other brother approached.

"Relax, Aiden. Father's not that strict to care if a piece of paper misaligns by point one centimeter."

Aiden didn't look amused, "…He is."

Albert absentmindedly flipped him off as he slid the suspicious document from under the ledger. After they gave it a quick glance, Albert placed it back on the table. "It looks good, but do you think this will work? As good as those people are, the royal family must have some form of countermeasure even against untraceable poison."

"Poison?" Circe's heartbeat hammered like war drums in her ears. Her lungs begged to breathe louder, but even under stealth, she didn't dare.

"It's fine," Aiden waved as the two headed for the door, "Even if he lives, he'll be bedridden and weak enough for the assassins to finish him off. You know those guys can slip through the Grand Mage's defenses easily."

Albert let out a thunderous laugh, "Yeah you're right! What the heck was I worried about? This is Father's plan we're talking about."

"Exactly." With that, Aiden closed the door behind him, plunging the room into silence once more.

Circe exhaled slowly. She didn't dare linger for any longer after seeing and hearing what her family had installed for the royal palace. After waiting until the footsteps passed, she exited the room.

"…Frick. I should've read the rest of—"

But before she could go back inside, the elder sister, Cleo Peregrine, came from around the corner and entered the marquis' study with a heap of documents in her arms.

"Damn it! I missed my chance." Circe bit her thumb's nail, frowning intently as she watched Cleo take the suspicious paper with her and left.

Circe needed more time to uncover their schemes, but tomorrow marked the beginning of academy week. She let out a defeated sigh and walked back to her room. More chances will come by eventually, but now she had gathered just enough information to be sure they were up to no good.