The Weight of Legacy

[Integrity]		977 / 1017
[Toll]		333 / 542
Strength	550	Speed	257
Endurance	612	Dexterity	254
Stamina	602	Resilience	254
Perception	508	Charisma	254
Adaptability	509	Luck	258
Circulation	509	Presence	254

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<p style="text-align: center"><span style="color: rgba(236, 240, 241, 1)"><strong>Unassigned: </strong>1000</span></p>
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It was a disorienting feeling that refused to fade away quickly, time drawn out—by what, she didn't know. Some attributes, like Strength and Circulation, had obvious differences about them, the contrast sudden and distinct enough that Malwine could simply understand.

The stone bench beneath her no longer felt solid. If she hit it, its surface would crack, and she would remain unscathed. Perhaps there had been some merit to her initial attempts to keep her attributes balanced, even if Katrina's trial had made Endurance her highest.

She could feel {Legacy} as it flowed through her. It did not simply manifest, it did not simply exist, but instead bloomed from the shadow of that which a dead, bitter centenarian had been. Or at least thought she had been.

The strangest part was how meaningless some of this would be—how much would ten seconds of a mere 5k attributes do when she was this small?

Malwine immediately chastised herself. It might have been less than what she had in some attributes nowadays, before the penalty applied, but it was much.

She just had no idea how to put it to use.

All she could think of was to look around herself.

Strangers surrounded them still, but in the instant it took her to turn her head, [Identify] triggered without conscious effort.

The words flowed through her, almost as if she were processing them in the background. She felt a pang of annoyance at Abelard's high core stage before she'd even read what the Trait told her.

The others were further than the 'couple' sitting next to her on the bench, the conversation apparently done. They started to walk away, but Malwine could reach them still. She'd glanced at two of them, information flowing freely to her—

—before [Unpacifiable] started screaming.

It wasn't the sensation Malwine associated with danger. Be it due to instinct or the now-confirmed synergy between [Enforced Longevity] and [Unpacifiable], she understood this wasn't a matter of being in danger. It was a different kind of warning, the other type [Unpacifiable] singled out for its effect. Not a threat. Just a worrying possibility.

All she'd done was take a look at her attributes, glanced at people in passing, yet the ten seconds that ended then had been the longest of her life.

The world became dull and quiet again.

Taking a deep breath, Malwine brought up the Skill's description in a rush.

That had been it. In that instant in which she could access more of her attributes, get more out of her Perception, [Unpacifiable] had warned her of something that could trigger negative status effects.

A someone, she suspected.

As for her certainty about its synergy with [Enforced Longevity], a notification that had flown past her had told her as much.

It was almost funny—the first time she'd gotten to see how a Skill evolution might go, not only had it been caused by the only Legendary Skill she had or even knew of, but it had happened—and failed—almost immediately after getting it.

Malwine found she was still blinking rapidly. The entire experience had been bizarre—she supposed either the extent of the change or how sudden it was must have played a factor. Did people usually feel like that when they dumped points into their attributes? Malwine had never noticed any considerable difference before, not really, but she had technically barely been increasing her attributes after the penalty applied.

As for the cost, well…

That's a 'small' amount of overflow? Malwine gulped. Just how big could these numbers get down the line?

She'd been reckless to test it in public, but how was she supposed not to? The Skill had simply been too lucky a find, too tempting. It was a possible—if temporary—solution to what had to be her earliest problem in this life. The fact that it would also apply to debuffs even meant it would still be valuable after she got rid of the curse someday. Plus it was a defensive Skill, anyway—Malwine felt an almost intrinsic trust in it, much like how she rarely felt fear while [Unpacifiable] remained silent.

It might be a problem down the line, to rely so much on Skills when there were undoubtedly counters out there, but the two Skills she'd gotten so far were meant to be defensive anyway. Even if books like these were typical for whatever the 'young noble girl' standard was, leveling them should provide a good buffer, if she had to contend with an offensive Skill later on.

Not to mention, Malwine had learned something from using the Skill, beyond getting to see how far it could go—there was something strange around.

Which one of them had caused that?

Malwine wasn't sure what executor stood for in this world—she'd only ever encountered that in wills during her past life. People in this world could be resurrected, but judging by the mana costs on Katrina's obit, she doubted it happened often unless the maximum [Toll] had some top-tier exponential growth on the higher levels.

And how long would it take the average person to get to that point, if they started at 10 attribute points per level? Even spending everything on Circulation…

If the baseline was five Skills per category—or six for otherworlders, apparently—that'd mean people started limited to 1000 or 1200 Lifetime Skill Levels. Otherworlders probably got the same bonus she did in addition to that—Malwine still had no idea how the system calculated that, but she wasn't about to complain about the free ride to 1750.

Starting with 7 meant Malwine could reach that 1750 mark before it was even supposed to be possible. For all she hated math, she was fairly certain 28 Skill slots with a Skill level cap at 50 would leave her quite a bit off from that.

How do people gain more Skill slots? Vaguely, she recalled she'd read about core stages providing an improvement there, but in a great display of hypocrisy, Malwine had forgotten to write down the source, and she wasn't even sure if she'd read it today or on any other book-browsing session. If you're relying only on earned levels, that'd mean what, 9 slots minimum?

All-in-all, that probably spelled doom for the viability of the average person getting resurrected. If Circulation was low, [Toll] would only grow with time, and though Malwine was delving into the realms of wild speculation by now, she knew enough to recognize when she'd gotten completely sidetracked.

As curious as she was about this executor, when faced with two alternatives, the one with the hidden level would always be the most conspicuous.

Nevermind that I'm pretty sure that's how [Reveal Nothing] displays my level, too.

The executor might have been the closest thing to a real older woman Malwine thought she'd seen in this life. Lady Margreth wasn't young, and she got the impression Kristian had to be in his 50s or 60s by the standards of the widow's world, but neither of them really looked as though they cared. They walked with a frankly impressive type of impunity.

Meanwhile, the executor walked hunched over, carrying herself with the mannerisms of a woman downtrodden from the woes of age, despite her high level. Anyone Malwine still couldn't grab the level from had to either have a way to block it, or be over Level 106—and 106 didn't seem easy to get to, judging by how Kristian seemed to be the only real high level of the family.

The other man had been unremarkable, aside from having the type of long silver hair you'd only really find in fantasyland. Malwine had to admit she had her biases—as the widow, she had looked into Rupert's ancestry. Mostly for Yoyo's sake, but she wouldn't deny foreign sources amused her to no end. They represented new shorthand systems to learn, new records to peruse. It was through that that the widow had run into a weird amount of stories about the corruption of forest officials, and in turn, she immediately distrusted anyone with the title forester.

It was a difficult call to make—she believed her suspicions justified, but there was no denying her bias.

…In any case, the two had been together. Malwine saw little reason to not watch out for both—whoever they were—even if she thought only one of them had been what triggered that secondary layer to [Unpacifiable].

"Honored guests!" Bernadette's voice appeared to come from all directions—it was honestly a bit creepy. "As my daughter wishes to retire to make her choices, the celebrations shall come to an end within the hour. I once again give you my utmost…"

Malwine tuned the speech out, her concerns far more important than that. Oh, no. The books were going to move.

Great, I love having to rush through decisions! Malwine huffed.

She supposed choosing [Shieldwork] was bound to happen.

But mostly, that meant the time had come for Malwine to come to terms with that old annoyance, for better or worse.