Restoration Berserker Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Chapter 3: Falna OR How Deep The Rabbit Hole Goes (Still up for debate)

When Marik next came to, it was to the sound of strange hissing.

Sunlight poured from the opening above, blinding him as he blinked open blurry eyes only to witness the sight of a car-sized scorpion tearing off a pound of bloody meat from the dead centipede with a giant pincer.

Blood splattered grotesquely and caught Marik entirely off guard as he shouted in surprise. “What the fuck?!”

The giant scorpion reared back before its eyes landed on Marik, and in that moment that it regarded him, Marik realized he had just fucked up.

Its massive tail jerked in his direction, and a drop of sizzling liquid extending from it was his only warning a bare second before a jet of yellow acid shot at him.

Trapped beneath the centipede's bulk, Marik knew he couldn't dodge and acted on instinct more than logic, throwing up his hands as a distortion appeared directly in front of him.

Mana churned from his palms as a Lesser Ward spell was cast, the acid smashing into it and deflecting somewhere off to the side, hitting a yet unseen second scorpion in the side. 

The second screeched in pain and turned angrily toward Marik's aggressor, much to his luck. The desert predator identified the larger threat and clicked its massive pincers as the two squared off.

His mind ran a mile a minute, and Marik took the chance offered to heave. The centipede's corpse trembled but slowly gave way as he began slipping out, the two scorpions meeting in a clash behind him, only motivating him to push even harder.

First, one leg was freed, and then the other was not a second too soon.

‘Yes!’ Marik internally cheered at his freedom, only to feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand tall as he threw himself into a roll, just barely dodging an errant tail swing from one of the scorpions. ‘Fuck, too close.’

Positioning himself behind the centipede's skull, Marik finally took a second to look around.

The sand pit-like arena he and the centipede had their final stand in was lit entirely by the baking sunlight. Its sands were littered with skeletons and red patches of sand that told Marik he had long since been the first to have a final stand there.

The two car-sized scorpions were going at it fiercely, clashing with body-sized pincers and acid-dripping stingers moving almost too fast for his eyes to track.

‘Fight or run?’ Marik questioned and looked down at himself. Aside from the dried blood caking him and the rags of the clothes he had been wearing, all he found was smooth skin underneath. ‘I’m healed?’

His mind churned as memories of the night smashed back into him. 'The healing spell.' His hands started slapping various parts of his body to check for damage, not feeling any pain in return and actually, in fact, feeling far firmer skin and muscles than he recalled having a day before. 'Did I get stronger or something?' His body was almost foreign in how it flexed, moving with power inside he had never felt before.

'What the fuck is going on?' Marik's mind wanted answers, but time needed to give him a moment to get them as the scorpion's battle approached his location. He wanted to study the strange status screen from the night before but didn't think he could afford to get distracted at the moment.

He gritted his teeth as he climbed up the centipede's head to get above the scorpion's stomping legs, piercing the sand like spears. 'This is pissing me off.'

An errant thought traveled back to what he had seen on his status, bringing to mind a certain unique skill that he hadn't had the time to study.

Wrathful Berserker.

'Fine.' He already went through his internal monologue during the night; he had already determined this shit was insane and unfair, and he had already cursed whatever godlike being did this to him. He already knew that sanity failed to help him against the centipede.

Now that he was healed and back in action, he was just pissed, and he knew the way to satisfy that anger.

‘Fuck this shit.’

His mind identified the danger, and his rising anger seemed to almost feed on itself, growing with each breath he took as a familiar adrenaline sparked through his veins.

Strength filled his limbs, muscles bulging as the centipede's chitin began to warp beneath his grip. The fire roared in his heart, tinting his vision pink. And a thirst he almost died for the night before re-ignited far more potent and quicker than he recalled.

Marik's eyes glazed over as he heard the Scorpions coming ever closer, their screeches and hisses somehow echoing in his mind like fuel to the flame.

His mind wasn't lost; he could hear his logical side saying to run and let them fight it out, but it was being overtaken. He was just getting more and more pissed. A growl rose in his lungs as his lips pulled back in a snarl.

Blood boiled as his hand moved over to the centipede’s pulped eye socket, reaching in and gripping hold of the trusty weapon he slayed a mighty beast with and yanking it out, feeling its sharp points prickling at the skin of his hand without care.

‘Nothing makes sense, but if it claims me a berserker, I’ll be a god damn berserker.’

His snarl pulled back as the heat blossomed throughout his being, singing with adrenaline as he roared his own battle cry, launching off the centipede’s head like a loaded spring toward the face of the first scorpion to come close enough to his hiding spot.

The beast didn't even have a chance to react before Marik's pointy stone ruthlessly slammed down on its eye socket, pulping the visual organ in a gory explosion and, unfortunately, piercing into bone rather than reaching its brain.

The beast made Marik pay for his miss as it screeched in agony, swinging a claw that parted the very air and slamming Marik from his perch with the sound of a cannon blast.

He flew through the air, tumbling through biting sands and slamming into the boulders that made up the arena's walls, hard enough to crack his bones and steal the breath from his lungs. Yet the pain didn't stop him this time; no, this time, Marik found himself laughing.

An insane laugh that only heightened with the pain his body was screaming at being drowned out by a wellspring of adrenaline. 'This might not be so bad.' His knees buckled as he rose back up, taking a single step that turned into two and two that became four as he charged back into the fray with his foes eyeing him up with more caution than before, no longer seeing the tiny human as prey, but an equal threat.

And if they took a step back as he charged with a bloody roar, it would be the least of their future concerns.

00000

When the fog finally faded from Marik’s mind, the sun was setting in the distance as he was sprawled out atop the fresh corpse of a scorpion, painted in an assortment of fluids and gore. Blood leaked from a dozen wounds, his skin covered in acid burns, and he looked like one giant purple bruise, but he was in far better shape than the night before.

Golden light danced across his skin as he grimaced, acid-burned skin peeling off to reveal fresh layers beneath. 'Ok, this part is pretty bad.'

The fight, if one could call it that, lasted hours. The scorpion's carapace was far too tough for Marik to get through, and after his first sneak attack, they were far more protective of their eyes.

It turned into a fight of attrition as he had to disable one leg at a time with brutal acts as he dodged and warded off their pincers, tails, and acid.

His wrath overtook his mind at one point, yet instincts he didn’t know he had prevailed as he outlasted them with sheer spite and will, his endurance long since drained.

Yet even more odd than him lasting as long as he had was that neither monster made a single attempt to retreat. They might have hesitated at times, but it was like retreat didn't exist in their minds.

‘Just more fuckery to this shit.’ Marik grumbled to himself as he bit down on a piece of broken shell to keep in the screams that came with his wounds healing in agonizing pain.

It took until the sun finally fell beyond the horizon for his wounds to finish healing. He had to take liberal breaks to regain his wits and recharge whatever mana he had inside him, but he finally healed and found no threat in sight.

“Fuck that sucked.” He sat up with a groan, feeling even more dried blood peeling off his skin. “Gross.”

He spat off to the side to get the taste out of his mouth and looked up as an almost full moon lit up the night, chocolate eyes taking it in with an odd sense of peace.

Much to his disappointment, there weren't two moons of fantastical colors up there, but just a single far more massive-looking moon than he had ever seen before. The constellations of stars igniting around it like a fireworks display in the deep galaxy.

'Well, if I needed any proof I'm not on earth anymore, I guess that's a good sign.' Nighttime star gazing was an odd hobby of his. His father had a big telescope in the backyard that he used to use when Marik was younger, an activity that amazed his younger self, leading to him spending lots of time out there over the years. 'You'd love this sight, pops.'

Thoughts of his parents made his chest hurt, but Marik hadn’t seen them since college started and had long since been desensitized. ‘I wonder what they’d say about me now, covered in blood of murdered monsters rather than studying to be a doctor.’

He chuckled and shook his head, blood clots falling from his light brown shaggy hair. ‘It is what it is.’

It was amazing what two back-to-back life and death encounters, plus the agony of feeling your body pull itself back together, could do to him. It was as if all his anger and negative feelings were pulled out by his weird ability, leaving him with just a peaceful post-nut clarity of calm.

'Speaking of weird abilities, it's time for some answers.'

He blinked, and his slate faded into existence, glowing silver before his eyes yet not adding any light to his surroundings. 'Odd.'

Ignoring that, he focused on its content.

[Falna:

-          Name: Marik Grim

-          Alias: N/A

-          Age: 20

-          Level: 1

-          Familia: N/A

Stats:

-          Strength: H150 (70)

-          Endurance: H150 (110)

-          Dexterity: I50 (50)

-          Agility: H150 (40)

-          Magic: H120 (110)

Developmental Abilities:

-          Unique: Wrathful Berserker I

-          Restoration Perks I

Magic:

-          Restoration I

Skills:

-          Unique: Identity Slate è Falna Slate

Feats:

-          Dimensional Traveler – Having crossed through the boundary, the world identifies you. Grants Unique Skill: Identity Slate.

-          Mortal Ascension – Defeated overwhelming odds as a pure mortal in single combat. Granted Unique Developmental Ability.

-          Blessing of XXX – Having recognized your strength of Will, XXX has blessed you with a drop of divine essence, awakening your Falna and granting access to Restoration Magic. Proceed to Orario to discover more.]

Everything but his stats were the same as they were the night before, giving Marik an idea of what was going on.

'I grew stronger after the first night; I assume those stat numbers signify my body's condition.' He focused on them and then looked down at his body, comparing what he saw on the numbers and what he saw on his physical form. 'It's not like I lost my gut overnight, but what I've got has been enhanced.'

His muscles felt like metal cords beneath his skin, skin that felt smooth and tough simultaneously. Every part of him felt improved, from his body to his senses to even his teeth. Only when he stopped to look did he feel everything so vividly.

He could see farther, the moonlight being enough to see all around him. He could hear the roars on the wind of numerous creatures. He could feel so much more than he did even the day before.

‘Is this what it’s like to level up in a fantasy world?’ Marik smirked and tightened his fist. ‘I could get used to this.’

Looking back at his slate, he noticed the numbers in parentheses. 'Is that my day's progress?'

The numbers shown on the left were familiar based on what he had seen the night before, but the ones on the right were new, with the magic stat having grown from what was listed the last time. 'Seems like it; perhaps it comes in gradually? Either way, seeing my progress in numbers like this is tickling my desire to see it climb higher.'

Nodding at that, Marik moved on.

'Name and age are fine; the level is pretty simple to understand, although I'm not entirely sure how to level up without an EXP bar. Alias and Familia are confusing; where am I supposed to get an alias? Do I make one? And what's with 'Familia'? Isn't that just family in Spanish or something? Am I supposed to join a family? Is this some mafia or wuxia-type world? And does everyone in this world speak Spanish? I knew I should have picked that class back in school.'

While lamenting his fate, he moved down the list.

‘Developmental Abilities? Does that mean they grow or something?’ He eyed up his two listed abilities. ‘Monstrous Berserker I and Restoration Perks I. Odd names, but can I get some more information on them?’

The slate seemed to sense his input, and much to his surprise, the rest of the information faded as a new 'page' of sorts opened up.

[Developmental Abilities:

[Wrathful Berserker I - A berserker beyond reason, turning wrath into fuel for primal strength. A suicidal path to strength for all who don’t carry a healer around in their pocket. Their power grows with their wrath, granting a temporary overall boost to Strength, Endurance, and Instinct the more the berserker gives in to their anger. The Will of the user will decide how far one goes down the path of a Wrathful Berserker. Warning: The further the user pushes beyond maximum physical limits, the faster the body will tear itself apart.

-          Stat bonus caps out at 15%.

Restoration Perks I – As a user of Restoration magic, a single ability is granted per rank. Current Perk(s):

-          Passive Healing: 1% of health is recovered per minute at half the mana cost as long as the user still has mana.]

‘Damn.’ Marik whistled at the description. ‘That’s fucked up.’

He reread it twice just to be sure, but that description was brutal. ‘Why was this the unique ability granted to me? This thing makes me seem like I’ve needed anger management my whole life. Was I ever that bad?’ Marik scratched his head and thought back, but no matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t see himself ever getting violent.

'I've really been more the silent walking away type; the fights weren't ever worth it. Wait, actually…' Marik's mind flashed back to a distant memory from his childhood.

0000

Eight-year-old Marik sat outside his classroom, cross-armed and pouting as he listened to his teacher, Ms. Mashe, talk with his father.

"We do not condone violence here, Mr. Grim. I don't know what's gotten into him, but your son assaulted those poor boys, one of which will need to see a dentist. You can expect the parents to contact you soon enough; I only hope they don't press charges."

“You’re correct, ma’am. I’ll reach out to them shortly.”

Ms. Mashe huffed and slammed the door shut on his stony-faced father.

Marik tried to take the opening to speak up. “Dad it…”

A raised finger stopped him short, and Marik watched nervously as the large man took a few calming breaths. Marik knew from experience to give his father a moment to process and gather his thoughts.

And sure enough, a moment later, his father took a knee before him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Son, do you know what you did wrong?"

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Marik countered with a glare. "Michael said mean stuff about Mom. I told him to stop, but Tom and Brian jumped in and made it worse."

“And that’s when you punched him.” Marik’s father added.

"Yeah! And I don't regret it. Mom's awesome, and those guys were being jerks, so I punched them a lot."

"Marik," His father sighed as his palm shifted from his shoulder to his head. "While I'm proud of you for standing up for your mother, you can't go around punching people."

“Why not?” Marik insisted. “They started saying they were sorry right away after a few good whacks.”

"Because that's not what civilized people do." Marik's father looked him in the eyes and tried to explain. "People don't like it when you hurt them; you need to use words to act."

“I tried to use words! They didn’t listen.”

“That happens a lot.”

“Societies stupid.”

"Sometimes, I can't help but agree." Marik's father chuckled. "Sadly, violence can't be our answer. It's easy to use, but the more you use it, the more it tempts you to use it again. And one day, you might find yourself using it to do things you can't take back."

“I won’t regret punching those jerks.”

“That’s not what I meant, son.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Marik’s father thought for a moment before answering. “Imagine if you punched your mother. Would you feel bad about it?”

"Punch, Mom?!" Marik's head snapped back in shock. "She'd kill me!"

Marik’s father held up a finger to make a point, paused as he thought about his wife, and put it back down. “Alright, fine, imagine if you punched me, would it feel good?”

"Of course not!" The fact that little Marik felt more fear about punching his mother than his father gave his father complicated feelings. "You're super strong, Dad!"

"I am." His father smirked in pride. "But I don't use violence because it's not the answer."

“Are you using enough of it?”

Marik’s father sighed and dropped his head. “Look, Marik, just stop punching people.”

“So, violence is always bad?”

“I didn’t say that.” Marik’s father scratched his head and tried to think of an answer. “As a man, you’ll need to be ready to act when necessary, but when it’s not necessary, true strength comes from restraining yourself. If you can walk away from a fight without throwing a punch, you win.”

Young Marik looked down in thought as he processed that before asking a question. “How do I know when it’s necessary?”

"You'll know in the moment," His father chuckled and stood up from his crouch. "Now come on, let's go home. I'll leave your punishment for your mother to decide."

Marik paled at those words and tugged on his father's leg. "Um, Dad, can we take the long road home?"

“Sure, son.”

0000

‘You’ll know in the moment’ were words Marik lived by subconsciously for the years that followed. Looking back on it now, he couldn't help but notice how many fights he had simply just…walked away from.

'Have I been wanting to fight this whole time? Deep down?' Marik thought back to times when he was tempted to sign up for martial arts or a full-contact sport, and each time, he eventually turned away as he didn't think it was worth it.

'Did I really resist all those years, only for that fucking centipede playing with me like a toy to bring it out of me?' Even now, the memory of running to the brink while he was being played with made him clench his fists and nearly growl. 'It took something that extreme for me to break that mental hold.'

Marik considered the enjoyment he felt when fighting to the death, and while the logical part of him said he was insane, the larger part of his ego simply felt…right. ‘Holy shit, I’ve really fallen down the rabbit hole on this one.’

A chuckle escaped him as he realized he didn’t care. ‘All it takes is extreme pain and the brink of death to start being honest with oneself, eh? Maybe a sprinkle of spite in there as well. Sugar, spice, and everything nice.’

Thinking about his fights, about the heat that coursed through him and the high like the greatest drug as he reached that climax, Marik couldn't help but feel…. free.

Concerns, opinions, worries, pressures, expectations, and judgment all faded and left him with nothing but freeing wrath. A part of him said he should be concerned over what he felt, but it was drowned out by the pure satisfaction and freedom he felt at standing above his fallen enemies. 'Why should I restrain myself?'

He smiled wide as a weight was tossed from his shoulders. 'No more restraint. No more cages. No more chains.' He laughed at the insanity of it all and how much he just didn't care. 'I had strings, but now I'm free.'

Overall, Marik was happy with the ability given to him.

He didn't know how strong the centipede and scorpions were, but they were clearly above his level. Beating the centipede came with a great deal of luck, and how it played with its food long enough to take advantage of that luck. While the scorpions had to deal with not only him but also each other. And even then, it took hours of threading the needle to outlast the scorpions.

‘I’ll do what I have to do.’ The fact that he might just enjoy that went unsaid as he turned to his other ability.

'I don't recognize that perk from the Elder Scrolls game, but then again, it's not like I can recall much other than it being about healing magic.' He read over the description with a nod. 'That must be why I survived the first night. Wait, but if I have that, then why didn't I heal passively overnight?'

1% a minute meant 100% health in 100 minutes. ‘Is there some other factor in there?’

Marik scratched his head, unsure of what the logical answer to magic was as he never actually had, or thought he would ever have, magic before. ‘I’ll figure that out later, I guess.’

He moved on without much to focus on.

‘Magic. Restoration I. The only reason I survived so far.’ Marik homed in on it and brought up more details.

[Magic:

Restoration I – A rare form of healing magic that combines the elements of Life, Death, and Arcane for various uses, such as returning injured or damaged living/non-living biological targets to their optimal state, generating magical defenses, and repelling undead and harmful influences. Spells appear with each rank up and are dependent on luck, fate, and the user's actions.

Current Spells:

I:

-          Healing - Heals 2% total health per cast.

-          Resist Disease – Boost the immune system against disease.

-          Resist Poison – Boost the immune system against poison.

-          Lesser Ward - Negates up to 50 points of spell damage.]

'Hm, what I figured.' Sitting cross-legged on his perch, Marik raised a hand and idly channeled the Healing spell, watching as the golden energy poured from his palm into a bubble that rang with the sounds of soothing chimes in his ears. 'This feels oddly natural.'

The moment those spells were downloaded into his brain, he simply knew how to use them. How to pull on his mana to cast them. It was odd in a way that Marik could only think of as having a new limb he just instinctively knew how to use.

He knew what spells he received, having used Lesser Ward to protect from the scorpions' acid sprays earlier, but other than his spells, he received nothing—no form of energy manipulation or understanding of deeper knowledge. He was handed a gun with a basic idea of how to shoot it but nothing more.

Yet even with just that, the healing and the ward spells were enough for him to get this far. ‘Magic really is bullshit. Some divine just gives it to me, and I have it. Does that mean gods are bullshit?’ A shiver went down Marik’s spine as he looked around warily. ‘Wait, am I in the Elder Scroll’s world? Because if a divine blessed me with magic there, that’s never a good sign.’

Internally hoping he wasn’t in a medieval magical Viking land, he focused rather on the next part of his slate.

[Unique: Identity Slate è Falna Slate – Witness thy own being bared true. Having been converted from a simple Identity Slate into the ritual from mortal to divine, the Falna Slate now records and visually describes the users progress on the path to divinity.]

“Well then.” Marik blinked and reread that three times to be sure. “I’m a demigod now?”

He scratched his head in confusion as he tried to parse that together. 'Is this that demigod world with the son of Poseidon? I enjoyed that book series years ago. Wait, I'm getting off-topic.' He shook his head to clear the thoughts. 'Generally, it's a status screen like in a game. It makes as much sense as everything else, but what does it mean 'path to divinity'? Is it saying I can grow into a god?'

It would be a lie to say the idea didn’t send a tingle of excitement down Marik’s spine, but it still raised the biggest question. ‘Where the hell am I?’

He couldn't claim to be the biggest anime nerd or the heaviest web reader. Marik had touched on things he found fun when he had the time, but he rarely had the time to slack off. 'None of this is familiar to me. Ah, fuck it, I'll figure it out as I go along. If I can survive a truck-sized evil centipede and tit milk acid shooting scorpions, I can figure this out.'

The last part of his slate was listed as Feats.

[Feats:

-          Dimensional Traveler – Having crossed through the boundary, the world identifies you. Grants Unique Skill: Identity Slate.

-          Mortal Ascension – Defeated overwhelming odds as a pure mortal in single combat. Granted Unique Developmental Ability.

-          Blessing of XXX – Having recognized your strength of will, XXX has blessed you with a drop of divine essence, awakening your Falna and granting access to Restoration Magic. Proceed to Orario to discover more.]

The first one simply confirmed what Marik was already confident in. 'Unless I'm in a coma back on Earth, this is my reality. I really did cross dimensions. How, I can't fucking say, but I did.'

The second one honestly filled Marik’s chest with a sense of pride. ‘It feels good to be recognized for that. I still can’t believe I won that fight, but I did. And it seems like I got rewarded for it with Wrathful Berserker.’

The third one, however, gave him mixed feelings. ‘I’m happy to be recognized, and Restoration magic definitely saved my life twice over, but the lack of a name and this whole divine essence thing is still throwing me off. What the fuck’s a Falna? And Orario? Is that place around here?’

Marik had more questions than answers, but he couldn't complain overall. 'I'll just have to deal with the consequences later. For now, I think survival is more important.'

Waving away the slate, Marik held a hand to his grumbling stomach and sighed. ‘I haven’t eaten in almost two days. If it wasn’t for this magic, I’d probably be suffering right now, but I doubt it’s a replacement for food.’

Looking down at the fresh corpse beneath him, Marik couldn’t help but grimace. ‘I don’t have a choice here, do I?’

Marik had never been a Boy Scout. He went camping a few times, but that was always done with store-bought goods. The best he could do was a couple random tidbits in the back of his brain from odd YouTube nights. He knew things about biology and the risks involved, but he also knew that he didn't have much choice.

Gritting his teeth, he got up and, at the very least, tried to look around for something to make a fire with, yet much to his annoyance, all he found was sand, stones, bones, and more sand.

‘Fuck.’ Standing before the corpse, having peeled off the shell with his bare hands, Marik was left standing before a wall of bloody meat with a queasy expression. ‘Humans had lived off raw meat for most of our existence. People still do it. Beef Tartar and all kinds of things are eaten raw. I just have to adapt to it. I can adapt to this. At least I’ve got spells for this.’

His hands glowed as he cast Resist Poison and Resist Disease on himself until he ran out of mana, barely five casts in total, but he hoped it was enough.

Ripping out a chunk, he closed his eyes and bit down on it. An explosion of blood and juice mixed with a gamey flavor, yet the texture was something Marik could only compare to sashimi. The smell, however, he could have done without.

‘If I didn’t need the water content, I’d drain the blood.’

He did his best not to gag, he really did, but it took three attempts to get a single piece of meat down his throat, and he dry heaved after it was done.

Watery eyes narrowed in a rising fury that he tried to push down, but the annoyance kept growing. 'I have to eat, so I'll eat. Fuck you stomach, fuck you scorpion, if I can beat you in life, my stomach will beat you in death.'

His anger actually helped as he shoved a mouthful of meat down his gullet, taking mouthfuls of blood to quench his thirst like a rabid animal, but there was only so much his modernized stomach could handle before the first gurgle of pain shot up his spine.

He knew it would happen. He was expecting it. But that didn’t mean he was going to enjoy it. ‘This isn’t gonna be fun.’  

Chapter End.