The next morning, I stepped out into the bright sun, stretching out the lingering stiffness from a restless, paranoia-fueled night.
My body was running on fumes, but my mind was clearer than it had been yesterday.
I had a plan now.
I needed XP.
I needed loot.
And that meant finding dungeons.
If I wanted to survive—if I wanted even the slightest chance against Cassian—I had to start pushing myself now.
The roads of Casanaro were already stirring with life. Merchants setting up stalls. Workers heading to their posts. The usual morning shuffle.
I didn’t stick around.
Instead, I cut through the side streets, heading for the outskirts—where cobblestone turned to dirt and civilization gave way to wilderness.
The Cartographer talent had already proven it could update my map with new points of interest, so the best way to find something worthwhile?
Keep moving.
The more I explored, the more the map expanded. And if I was lucky?
Maybe I’d stumble onto a dungeon portal.
It was a long shot, sure. But right now? I’d take anything.
I kept a steady pace, eyes scanning the terrain. Rolling hills stretched ahead, broken by dense patches of trees and the occasional jagged outcrop. Not exactly thrilling scenery, but uncharted land was uncharted land.
And every step forward was one step closer to a new discovery.
As I walked, I finally took a moment to do something I really should’ve done last night:
Spend my talent points.
I pulled up my status window, the interface flickering softly to life in front of me. Between the glitched dungeon fiasco and my nightmare meet-and-greet with Cassian, I’d been too busy not dying to actually focus on getting stronger.
That changed now.
I flicked over to my Shadowborn talents, scanning the list of unlocked and available skills. I wasn’t looking for anything flashy. I needed utility—stuff that would keep me alive.
I made my choices fast.
Because every second counted.
 
Umbral Stalker
Move faster while hidden. Small damage boost when attacking from stealth.
 
The second I picked it, I felt it.
Not visually—just a shift. My body moved smoother. Lighter. Like I was cutting through air instead of pushing against it.
I grinned.
“Okay. That’s actually really nice.”
Perfect. Stealth was everything to a Shadowborn. And now? Not only could I move faster while hidden—my opening strike hit harder, too.
 
Backstabber’s Gift
Attacks from behind always critically strike and deal bonus damage.
 
My stomach tightened as the skill slotted into place.
Brutal.
I already knew positioning mattered in a fight, but this took it to another level. If I got behind someone?
Boom. Instant crit.
More damage. More pressure. More reasons for enemies to never turn their back on me.
But it came with risk. I’d have to fight smarter—no more reckless dives.
Precision mattered now.
 
Shadow Surge
Killing an enemy with a melee attack restores a portion of Guile.
 
Now this?
This was a game changer.
Guile was everything. It fueled my skills, kept me slippery in a fight. And this let me replenish it mid-combat—no potions, no waiting.
Just stab, kill, refill.
“That’s actually kind of insane,” I muttered.
In longer fights, this meant I stayed dangerous. Longer uptime. More flexibility.
Way more survivability.
 
Dark Pact (1 Hour Cooldown)
You may sacrifice up to 50% of your total HP to restore an equal percentage of Guile. 1 Hour Cooldown.
 
I wasn’t sure about this one.
It was a risky move. Straight-up trading my health for more Guile?
Dangerous. But also… exactly the kind of Hail Mary that could keep me alive when things went sideways.
If I ran dry in the middle of a fight, this gave me an option.
A painful one—but still an option.
I clenched my fist as the skill locked in, feeling a strange pulse of energy ripple through me.
This was the kind of gamble that could kill me.
Or save my life.
 
Twist the Blade (15% Guile | 1 Minute Cooldown)
Twist your dagger in a wound to cause bleed damage over time. Damage is equal to 20% of the original attack. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
 
The moment I selected it, instinct kicked in.
I didn’t just know what it did—I knew how to do it.
A shift in grip. A twist of the wrist. Just the right angle at the right moment.
It turned a clean strike into a slow, nasty bleed.
My enemies wouldn’t just take one hit.
They’d keep taking hits.
I tested the motion, flicking my dagger from my belt and spinning it through my fingers.
Yeah.
This one would hurt.
 
Daggerstorm
When throwing a dagger, a second dagger made of shadow automatically follows and deals 75% damage.
 
I actually laughed when I saw it in action.
One dagger thrown—then a second, ghostly one zipped after it like an echo.
Both blades hit the tree I’d aimed for. Solid. Sharp. Clean.
“Okay,” I muttered, still grinning. “That’s awesome.”
I wasn’t just dangerous up close anymore.
Now I had reach, too.
I smiled, rolling my shoulders as I closed the menu.
Six points. Six new talents.
My first big leap forward.
I wasn’t ready for Cassian yet. Not by a long shot.
But I was getting there.
And with these upgrades?
Anyone who came after me was going to have a very bad day.
With one last unspent talent point, I flipped over to the general Chosen tree. Most of the options were decent but… meh. Small stat buffs. Stamina regen. Useful, sure, but not urgent.
Then I saw something that really caught my eye.
 
Resistant
Reduces all damage taken from all sources by 10%.
 
No conditions. No cooldown. No catch.
Just 10% less pain across the board.
That felt borderline mandatory.
I locked it in.
A low hum passed through me as the effect settled in. Subtle. Like my body had been reinforced from the inside out.
It wouldn’t stop me from getting hurt.
But next time?
It might be the difference between standing and bleeding out on the ground.
 
I’d been so absorbed in my talents, so caught up in making the right choices, that I hadn’t even noticed how far I’d wandered.
The realization only hit when I finally looked up from my status window and blinked at my surroundings.
The hills were rockier.
The trees were denser.
And that crooked, half-collapsed watchtower in the distance?
Yeah. Pretty sure I hadn’t seen that before.
I frowned and pulled up my map.
My eyes widened.
Somehow, without even thinking about it, I’d explored a lot.
Where there used to be blank space, there were now trails, terrain, and new icons marking points of interest.
Cartographer had been busy.
I scanned the map, tracking the updates:

A few marked bandit camps.
A couple of monster dens.
A blacksmith in some kind of remote outpost.
A handful of fishing spots tucked beside small forest streams.

And then—
At the far edge of my vision.
A glowing blue icon.
A solo dungeon portal.
I zoomed in, heart already picking up pace. It wasn’t even far—maybe two miles back, just off the road I’d taken earlier. I must’ve walked right past it without realizing.
There it was. My next step.
I reached into my void bag and pulled out a banana—because listen, strategic snack breaks were part of any good adventuring plan—peeled it one-handed, and turned back toward the road.
If I wanted to get stronger… if I wanted to survive… I couldn’t afford to waste time.
I took a bite, adjusted my belt, and started walking.
I kept a steady pace, heading toward the portal, the familiar weight of the artifact pulsing softly in my pocket.
It always did that now. Always in sync with my heartbeat.
I hadn’t checked my mystery talent tree in a while, but after the XP I’d racked up, I had a feeling it had new options waiting.
 
Sure enough, when I pulled up the ????? talent menu, the interface glitched briefly—then flickered, revealing a fresh row of seven talents.
Same as last time.
No branching paths. No choices. Just one way forward.
One talent per tier.
It should’ve felt ominous.
Instead, I felt… prepared.
I hovered over the first talent—and unlocked it.
 
Night Vision
Your eyes adjust more efficiently in darkness, allowing you to see clearly in low-light environments without the need for torches.
 
I blinked.
“Huh.”
That was actually… super useful.
Torches were annoying. Most Chosen could afford enchanted lanterns or had access to light spells, and me? Not exactly rolling in gold. Besides, being able to see clearly in the dark without alerting every creature in a five-mile radius? Huge win.
One less thing to worry about in dungeons.
I moved on.
 
Beast Whisperer
Wild animals are less likely to be hostile toward you. With time and patience, some may even become temporary allies.
 
I tilted my head.
“Wait. I can make animal friends?”
That was… awesome.
I had no idea how practical it’d be, but the thought of not getting mauled by every wolf or forest horror I ran across was definitely appealing. And if I could actually befriend something?
Yeah. That was going in the toolbox.
I shrugged. “Alright. I’ll take it.”
Next.
 
Weathered Traveler
You are naturally resistant to extreme temperatures and harsh weather conditions, reducing exhaustion from environmental factors.
 
Now we were talking.
I had zero desire to freeze solid in a snowstorm or collapse from heatstroke in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t flashy, but I could already tell this would come in clutch. No more wasting energy just staying upright in bad weather? Yes, please.
Clicked. Done. Next.
 
Lucky Find
There is a small chance to discover rare items in treasure chests and dungeon loot that wouldn’t normally appear.
 
I stared at the screen.
Then grinned.
“Oh, that’s broken.”
More loot. Better loot. Stuff that wasn’t supposed to show up?
The system was basically cheating in my favor.
I loved it.
Moving on.
 
Herbalist
You can recognize and harvest medicinal plants and alchemical ingredients more easily in the wild.
 
I frowned slightly.
A little niche… but honestly?
Not bad.
Healing potions were expensive. If I could start making my own or sell the ingredients I found, it’d help a lot. Besides, having options beyond stabbing things was never a bad idea.
I nodded to myself. “Okay. That’s fair.”
Unlocked.
 
Second Wind
Once per day, when your health drops below 10%, you regain a burst of stamina and recover 50% of your total HP.
 
I froze.
“…Whoa.”
That was massive.
No cooldown. No catch. Just—don’t die today.
This was the kind of ability that saved lives. Mine, specifically.
I clicked accept before I even finished reading the last sentence.
 
Safe Descent
You take significantly reduced damage from falls, allowing you to survive drops that would be lethal to most.
 
I let out a short breath.
“…Okay, that’s kind of funny.”
Would I need this often? Probably not.
Would it save my life when I inevitably did something reckless and/or stupid?
Absolutely.
Shortcut down a cliffside? Emergency escape route? Dramatic rooftop leap?
I was all set.
I confirmed the final talent and closed the menu.
Rolling my shoulders, I let the changes settle in.
Night vision. Beast-friendly. Weather resistance. Better loot. Herb lore. A literal second chance. And fall damage immunity.
A weird, grab-bag mix of abilities.
But every single one of them? Useful.
And the best part?
No one else had this.
No one else even knew this tree existed.
Every advantage it gave me was mine alone.
I adjusted my bag, took another bite of my banana—because, you know, priorities—and kept moving.
The walk back wasn’t long, but this time?
I paid more attention.
My map had expanded a lot, and now I could actually see what it had flagged.
 
To my left, just beyond a low ridge, sat a bandit camp—nothing huge, just a scattering of tents around a firepit, smoke curling faintly into the air. I crouched as I passed, watching figures move between the canvas like shadows.
They hadn’t noticed me.
Good.
I made a mental note to steer clear of that spot unless I was feeling particularly suicidal.
A little further up, nestled into a craggy outcrop, was a monster den. Judging by the claw marks on the rock and the massive tracks in the dirt, something big lived there.
Bigger than I wanted to deal with right now.
On the right, I passed a quiet fishing spot. A narrow stream wound through the trees, sunlight glinting on its surface. A rickety wooden pier jutted into the water, half-rotted but still standing.
I hadn’t fished in years. Not since dad died.
Might be worth coming back sometime.
If only to clear my head.
The final landmark before I reached the dungeon was a blacksmith’s hut, half-hidden behind a thin line of trees. Smoke rose steady from the chimney, and the rhythmic clang of hammer on steel rang faintly through the air.
Definitely worth visiting at some point.
Better gear meant better odds of surviving.
But not today.
Because today?
I had something more important to do.
 
The portal stood ahead of me.
A swirling mass of deep blue light, its edges flickering faintly in the shaded grove where it pulsed like a heartbeat. It was just like the one from my Judgment Trial—the same silent hum of power, the same pull in my chest like it knew I was coming.
I stood still for a long moment, staring at it.
Letting the weight of it settle.
Letting the choice become real.
This was my next step.
My next push forward.
I took a slow breath, grounding myself.
This wasn’t supposed to be permanent.
That’s what I told myself. That’s what I told Mom.
I wasn’t going to live the full Chosen life.
Wasn’t going to chase glory, or power, or some tragic heroic destiny.
I just wanted to survive my trial.
Move on.
Live.
But then came Cassian.
Then came the system’s warning.
Then came the realization that I was being hunted.
By the very system I was supposed to trust.
I didn’t have a choice anymore.
I clenched my fists, breathing out through my teeth.
I wasn’t doing this because I wanted to.
I was doing this because if I didn’t?
I was dead.
That was the only truth left.
I stepped forward.
The portal shimmered, its energy reacting to my presence, curling around me like static in the air—silent, electric, waiting.
Then, without another word—
Without another breath—
I stepped inside.