[VotA] Chapter 8 - Skill Issue (Patreon)

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Clenching his jaw, Mark secured his dagger in his underpants, approached one of the goblin’s corpses, and without hesitation, hoisted the limp body onto his right shoulder, locking his arm around it to secure the dead weight.

Then, he bolted.

Not toward the distant, unknown hill, but to a nearby tree.

As he ran, he reached out, ripping the lodged dagger from the trunk where he had left it earlier. His grip tightened around the now familiar weight as his mind raced.

Better than last time, but still not good enough.

Both times, he had survived because of his stats, his pain tolerance, and sheer unpredictability.

Mark wasn’t a true fighter.

At least, not yet.

He knew exactly where his strengths lay, however.

I need the element of surprise or to overwhelm them in strength.

But right now, he was missing one critical thing.

Information.

There were too many unanswered questions.

He had charged in, expecting the goblins to be huddled around a hidden camp, eating raw flesh, sleeping in filth, or indulging in whatever depraved behavior Raion’s memories led him to assume. He figured they followed basic needs, hunting during the day and retreating at night.

Too reckless. I used to have time to plan. Besides, I shouldn’t rely too much on memories that aren’t mine.

His scowl deepened as he sprinted past more withered trees, until suddenly, golden text flickered into his vision.

[Killed: Forest Goblin Scout (F) x6]

[Total Battle EXP Gained: 60 EXP]

[Trait: Vessel of the Abyss Activated]

[Total EXP Gained: 15 XP]

His grip tightened around the dagger.

[Level Up]

A familiar heat surged through his veins, and his body shuddered, making him stop. 

His breath hitched, eyes fluttering closed as a groan escaped his lips. The goblin’s corpse slipped from his grasp, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

A-ah…Will I ever get used to this?... It’s so freaking good, argh.

[Level: 3 → 4]

His hand pressed against the rough bark of a nearby tree, steadying himself as the changes settled in.

It was subtle but immediate. His body adjusted, movements sharpening, strength increasing. Even flipping the dagger between his fingers felt smoother. 

It wasn’t just raw power, either. His instincts, his reflexes, even the way mana coursed through him, had all improved.

… Good. This is good.

He exhaled, rolling his shoulders, then grabbed the goblin’s corpse again and kept running.

Less than a minute later, he found what he was looking for. He approached a tree with low branches, and without hesitation, he dropped the body at its base, stashed his daggers into his underwear’s waistband, and climbed as high as he could go.

The cold night sky stretched above him, endless and scattered with stars. Beautiful, in a way. But the darkness was thick, and even from here, he couldn’t see the hill clearly.

His world was still an endless sprawl of lifeless, withered trees.

Sighing, he adjusted himself on the thick branch, wedging his daggers into the bark before resting his head against the trunk.

A small smile tugged at his lips.

No matter what, this is better than being locked up and tortured.

He stared at the stars in silence.

Until his stomach growled.

He patted it absentmindedly, glancing down at the goblin’s corpse below.

We’ve got other things to deal with first.

He smacked his dry lips.

“Alright, System. Show me what you’ve got.”

Golden text shimmered before his eyes.

[Updated Information]

[Name: Mark Raion][Race: Human (Unknown)][Level: 3 → 4][EXP: 07/40][Grade: F][Class: Mage][Title: None]

[STAT POINTS]

[Hit Points: 134/220 → 175/260][Mana Points: 420/430 → 476/480][Martial (F): 9 → 13][Dexterity (F): 11 → 16][Vitality (F): 12 → 16][Soulforce (F): 32 → 38]

Mark stared at the numbers as they faded, shaking his head with a smirk.

I really wish I had someone to compare these to. Are my stats good? Great? Completely broken?

Then, he frowned.

All that fighting, and I didn’t even get a new skill?

More golden text blinked into his view.

[SKILLS]

[Abyssal Engraving (B)][Basic Mana Flow (E)]

His brow twitched.

I already knew these.

The text didn’t fade.

Mark squinted. The System had never directly responded to him, but it always acted in sync with his desires and questions, even the ones he hadn’t voiced aloud.

And now, it refused to disappear.

Something about this mattered.

And he didn’t want to miss it.

New skills…? He frowned. But these are old ones. So what are you trying to show me, System?

His gaze settled on the second skill.

Then, instinctively, he focused on it.

And the text shifted.

[Basic Mana Flow (E)] - Magical beasts have mana flowing through their body, granting even the weakest ones basic control over it.Effects: You can conjure Grade (E) mana spells and abilities.

Mark’s eyes widened.

He didn’t fully grasp all the implications, but a few things stuck out immediately.

Are you calling me a magical beast? One of the weakest ones?

He wasn’t prideful. Being called weak didn’t bother him.

The problem was the realization that, according to the System, his ability to control mana was as good as the weakest of the magical beasts.

And there was no way he wouldn’t find one of the strongest ones sometime later, outside this Tutorial.

Let’s leave this issue for later.

Clicking his tongue, he turned his attention to his other skill. 

[Abyssal Engraving (B)]

When the golden text appeared, he mentally clicked on it.

[Abyssal Engraving (B)] – Abyssal Demons who learned the Runic Language can alter Summoning Circles and modify the meaning of Runes. They are known for breaking Soul Contracts and can’t be trusted. Most require blood to channel their power and lack the knowledge and skills to create their own Runes.Effects: You can understand the Runic Language and alter Runes with your blood.

Mark stared at the golden text, his mouth slightly open.

As the letters faded, he stood still, thinking.

And then, he knelt on the branch, grabbed one of his daggers, and began carving a rune into the wood.

Minutes passed as he worked carefully. Previous runes burned into his mind from the countless times he had seen it inside the Demon Princess’s prison.

Soon, he finished, sat back, and stared at the runic circle.

A moment passed, but nothing happened.

Frowning, Mark slashed his palm, letting his blood trickle into the carvings. He pushed his mana into it, the black-purplish energy flowing through the crimson liquid, painting the runes in glowing light.

Golden text flickered at the edge of his vision:

[Mana Points: 480/480 → 450/480] 

[Hit Points: 180/260 → 175/260]

The blood-filled carvings shimmered, glowing faintly with a dark aura, the runes pulsing.

Mark held his breath.

“Come on…”

His eyes, bloodshot from exhaustion, bore into the carvings. Sweat dripped down his brow, his lips dry, throat hurting from hours without water. The wounds on his back ached, and there was an inner concern about the goblins' movements.

However, none of it mattered now.

Seconds passed.

Then minutes.

His blood dried.

The mana within it dissipated.

“No, no, no,” he muttered, pressing a hand to his forehead, gripping the dagger tightly in the other. “How the hell didn’t I notice this before?”

Mark had relied on the rune traps carved into the trees because they were already there, siphoning lifeforce from the withered wooden behemoths. He had only needed to modify them, not create them from scratch.

In the same way, he had learned the Runic Language in captivity, altering existing runes, breaking meanings, repurposing them with the same blood powering them.

But he had never created a rune circle on his own from nothing.

I never used my mana to activate them, just to change them.

His fist slammed against the branch. The tree shook under the force.

Shouldn’t I be able to make them work on my own?

His heartbeat quickened. His chest tightened.

Breathe. Calm down. 

Biting his lip, he kept his fists clenched.

This changes nothing.

It wasn’t the end of the world. He had always planned to use the pre-existing runes in the trees to his advantage. That much was still possible.

The problem was about after.

This was just a Tutorial.

A place the System had sent him. Maybe created for him.

Things wouldn’t be the same in the real world.

What are the chances I’ll find another place filled with runes for me to alter?

A chilling thought struck him.

Maybe… maybe I was sent here because the System knew what I could do… Meaning there aren’t many places like here.

He ran a hand through his hair, then gripped it tightly.

I can’t stay here. I need to act. I need to get stronger. Those goblins will—

A deafening explosion cut his line of thought.

The ground shook violently. Trees creaked and snapped. A hot wave of air rushed toward him, carrying clouds of splinters and dust.

Mark instinctively shielded his face, squinting through the chaos.

A deep, rumbling sound echoed in the distance.

The source?

The place where he had first arrived.

Red and green lights flickered through the dust cloud. 

The aftermath of an explosion.

Mark lowered his arms, his heart still hammering from the sudden shock.

That’s where I put the traps.

Then… he kept staring in anticipation.

Seconds passed.

His brow twitched.

A full minute ticked by before his body moved. His foot slipped against the bark, forcing him to grab onto another branch for support.

No way.

His breath was shallow, as his eyes, wide with disbelief, fixated on the explosion site.

His traps had been triggered. That much was clear.

There were no kill notifications.

Something—something alive—had stepped into the perimeter and attempted to leave, triggering dozens of explosive traps.

And survived.

Mark’s skin turned cold.

His fingers curled around the dagger’s hilt, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white.

His voice came out low, barely above a whisper.

“What kind of hellish monsters are in this forest?”

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