The stale bread was not worth fighting for. Survival was. Kaelen placed the bread on the desk, his movements calm and non threatening. "Take it," he said, his voice quiet.
Joric's sneer widened. He snatched the bread and took a large bite, chewing obnoxiously. "See? The little rat knows his place. Now, for the rest of your taxes."
Kaelen endured it. He let them push him around, let them empty his pockets of the three pathetic copper coins he had. He absorbed every insult, every shove, filing it all away in the cold ledger of his memory. His mind was his true weapon, and it told him this was not the time. They eventually grew bored of their one sided torment and left, laughing as they went. Kaelen sank onto his bed, his body trembling not with fear, but with a suppressed, chilling fury.
Every debt would be paid in full.
He had to get stronger. And he had to do it now. The Soul Devour skill was his only path. The odds were terrible, which meant he needed volume. He needed to kill, and kill a lot.
His mind sifted through the academy's layout from the dead boy's memories. There was a place. The back of the academy grounds bordered a wild, overgrown patch of woods used for basic beast subjugation training. It was strictly off limits to students without an instructor, especially at night. It was perfect.
He waited until the dead of night, the moon hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds. The dormitory was quiet. He slipped out, a ghost in the halls. His movements were clumsy in this new body, but his instincts were sharp. He avoided the night proctor's patrol route with an ease that came from a lifetime of battlefield infiltration.
The training woods were just as the memories described. A dark, tangled mess of trees and thorny bushes. The air was cool and smelled of damp earth. The sound of chirping crickets was a constant hum. According to academy knowledge, the area was mostly infested with low level beasts. Shadow Rats, creatures barely a foot long, known for their quick movements and weak bite. They were a pest, nothing more. For him, they were a resource. A field waiting to be harvested.
He found a sturdy, fallen branch, about the length of a short sword. It was a poor substitute for Oathbreaker, but it would have to do. He found a rat trail near a cluster of refuse bins. Now, all he had to do was wait.
His first kill was clumsy. The rat darted out from behind a bin. He swung the branch, but his timing was off. His weak arms and the branch's poor balance made the swing slow. He missed. The rat hissed and scurried away. He cursed under his breath. The Grand Marshal who had slain an Archdemon couldn't even kill a rat. The humiliation was a whetstone, sharpening his resolve.
He adjusted his strategy. He couldn't rely on strength or speed. He had to use his mind. He set up a simple trap, a leaning pile of rocks propped up by a stick, with some discarded food scraps as bait. He waited, his breathing slow and steady, his patience absolute. An hour passed. Then, a dark shape darted towards the bait. The moment the rat began to nibble, Kaelen kicked the support stick. The rocks tumbled down, crushing the creature with a sickening crunch.
[Shadow Rat has been defeated.]
[Devour soul remnant? Y/N]
The prompt appeared in his vision. Yes. A faint, black wisp of energy, visible only to him, rose from the rat's corpse and flowed into his body. It felt like nothing. A drop of water in an empty ocean. He checked the system log. No skill absorbed. No stats gained.
Disappointment was a luxury he couldn't afford. This was what the odds looked like in reality. One percent was not one in one hundred. It was a sliver of a chance, every single time. He needed to keep going.
So he did. All through the night, he hunted. He built more traps. He learned the rats' patterns. He used his branch to corner them, his blows becoming more accurate, his movements more efficient. He was a machine of death in the darkness, his only purpose the slaughter of these pathetic creatures. Ten rats. Twenty. Thirty. Still nothing. His body ached, his stomach was a hollow pit, and exhaustion gnawed at him. He looked like a mess, covered in dirt and rat blood. But his eyes were clear, burning with an obsessive light.
Forty. Fifty. He lost count. The sun was beginning to threaten the horizon, painting the eastern sky in shades of gray. He had to stop soon. He cornered another one, its beady red eyes glowing in the gloom. He brought the branch down in a clean, swift strike.
[Shadow Rat has been defeated.]
[Devour soul remnant? Y/N]
Yes. The familiar black wisp flowed into him. And then, something new.
[Ding!]
[A skill has been absorbed from the soul remnant.]
[You have learned "Stealth (Rank F)".]
Kaelen froze, his heart hammering against his ribs. He almost dropped his branch. Success. Finally. He quickly opened the skill description.
[Stealth (Rank F)]
Description: Allows the user to blend with shadows and muffle their presence. Reduces the user's visibility and sound to casual observation. Mana Cost: 1 per minute.
He immediately activated it. The cost, one mana per minute, was steep for his pathetic pool of five. But the effect was immediate. It was not invisibility. It was something more subtle. The shadows in the area seemed to deepen around him. His presence felt… muted. As if the world had suddenly found him less interesting. It was a weak skill, the lowest rank possible. But for him, a tool was a tool. And in the hands of a master, even the crudest tool could become a deadly weapon.
He had a skill. His first step was taken. A wide, savage grin split his pale face. The Grand Marshal was gone. The Soul Monarch was beginning to stir.