Ideal upgrade available for [Focus - Rare].
Prerequisites met:
Remain focused in the face of severe pain.Remain focused in the face of certain death.Actively use [Focus] to resist a Tier 4 fake-world illusion for one hour.Channel emotions to enhance [Focus].Score in the 99th percentile on the trait of concentration.Ideal Upgrade unlocked:
[In the Zone - Epic] - Elevate yourself to a state of laser focus and enter the Zone. Once inside, there's only one thing left to do: annihilate the obstacles in your path. Ideal upgrade potential. Potential Cost: 320
You have selected the skill [In the Zone - Epic].
POT -320
[In the Zone - Epic] - The Zone is a mental construct that channels your emotions, filters distractions, and isolates you from irrelevant aspects of your environment. With unnecessary data stripped away, the situation becomes clearer, allowing you to find solutions more easily.
Your purpose becomes a guiding flame... but it can also burn you.
PERC +3
VIVA +3
DEXT +3
Priam opened his eyes as the System upgraded his skill. With the transformation of [Focus] into [In the Zone], everything gained clarity. The illusion dissipated on its own, and the ritual ceased, having achieved its purpose. The runes composing it were interesting as references, and the add-on began copying them.
Several things happened simultaneously. Mama Apo and Gabrielle's conversation had been recorded by the System even as Priam's senses were disrupted by the illusion. He absorbed the information in moments. A parallel thought, influenced by [In the Zone], observed the two Gaeserts watching him.
“You were quick,” said the grandmother.
Replying was a waste of time. He needed more ideal upgrades before facing Sumstreh to maximize the use of Back in Time. His next step was to talk to Gryphe. Eager to move on, Priam set off.
“Kids…” Mama Apo waved a hand, and Priam nearly stumbled as he passed her. The clarity brought by his new skill shattered, and he blinked, as if waking from a lucid dream.
“What the—”
“[Focus] is less disorienting than [Berserk], but it can still severely affect its user.”
With his vivacity, Priam needed only a second to regain his composure and realize he had let the skill control him. The upgrade had boosted both its strengths and its hazards. I'll need to be careful with the influence of mental skills...
“You knew this might happen.”
The shaman shrugged. “I don’t have access to your full status, but it was a possibility.”
“I see. Well, thank you for your help.” Priam rubbed his left eye. A phantom pain bothered him, and Micro couldn't alleviate it. In the fake world, the last arrow had pierced his eye socket, and the illusion felt so real that his mind struggled to accept it had been deceived. [Focus] had kept the pain at bay while active, but now, Priam had to endure it.
“The pain will fade soon,” Mama Apo reassured him.
Priam hoped so. He was accustomed to pain and accepted it when it came with growth. This torture was more excruciating because it offered no positive change.
“You were super fast!” Gabrielle exclaimed, seizing a lull in the conversation.
“I guess so.” Priam had shattered Braato's record, the Gaeserts' chief, but he had advantages Braato didn’t. Besides his innate talent for concentration and his familiarity with pain and death, he used his two parallel thought streams to understand the skill from different angles. As usual, dragons cheated. “Once again, thanks for your help. I won't bother you any longer.”
His ideal upgrade checklist was far from complete.
“Wait. You're not obliged to answer, but could you tell me the prerequisites that unlocked [Ideal Focus - Epic]?” asked the shaman. “Most warriors need to go through multiple illusions to get it, and you did it on the first try.”
“I didn’t get [Ideal Focus], but [In the Zone],” Priam corrected.
“The System loves giving complicated names to its skills,” Gabrielle explained, hearing her mentor grunt. “In the tribe, we prefer to rename skills as the original name helps to understand what they do. Some add High or Ideal in front to flaunt their power.”
“It also prevents giving away information to strangers. For an epic skill, it’s less critical, but knowing the full name of a mythical skill could reveal the path of a Tier 1.”
“Makes sense,” Priam admitted, grimacing. His eye still hurt. “I’ll share my prerequisites if you tell me what a Smiling Juggernaut is.”
Mama Apo squinted before nodding. “The founder of our tribe was a Champion. In his memoirs—which you won’t read—he wrote that rivals always have an archetype. The Juggernaut is one. To differentiate between generations of rivals, Gaesert added an adjective. I thought Smiling Juggernaut suited you well, but it's not official. At least, the adjective isn’t.”
A Juggernaut, an unstoppable force crushing all obstacles in its path. I guess that fits me in some ways.
“Why smiling?”
“The Impossible difficulty of the Tutorial only appears to those who seek change. Hence, Champions are naturally inclined to the System's arrival.” Priam’s eyes widened slightly. “You, however, seem particularly happy to pursue the Zenith.”
As Priam walked along a winding path, he encountered an adorable girl with slightly pointed ears and vertical pupils. She stood pensively near a clothesline strung between two tents, adorned with a dozen garments.
Suddenly, she noticed Priam approaching and smiled before putting a finger to her lips. Priam returned her smile and nodded. The next moment, the girl drew a claw, cut the line, and darted between two tents. Dumbfounded, Priam watched the clothes tumble into the dust.
The definition of chaotic neutral...
A second later, a teenage boy burst from one of the tents, loudly complaining as he surveyed the mess.
“Was it you?” he asked, casting a suspicious glance at Priam.
“I don’t have the nails for it.” A lighthearted justification was always better received than outright denial.
“Mmh,” the teenager muttered, eyeing Priam's hands. “Normally, I’d accuse you, but you look too pitiful.”
He retreated into his tent, leaving the clothes on the ground and Priam stunned.
“Those cats are crazy...” Priam murmured, heading toward the central pavilions.
Gryphe’s tent was larger than the others and the only one closed. Touching the flap, Priam realized it was as solid as stone—the equivalent of a locked door.
“The shaman is napping.” Priam turned as Rohan approached. “We like to sleep... and we hate being woken up for nothing.”
The young master, somewhere between twenty and thirty years old, had a charming smile and the looks of a movie star. He resembled a surfer ready to flirt with girls on the beach, preferably ones whose boyfriends were working hard to buy them a ring. I don’t like him…
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“I see…” Priam grimaced. Time was of the essence, but he couldn’t very well attack the pavilion to wake Gryphe, right? “When will she wake up?”
Rohan shrugged. “No idea. Why not come kill some time with me?”
“I’ve already got a girlfriend.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it was a good lie to deter unwanted company.
“... I meant training.” Rohan’s smile cracked.
“Oh. Why not?”
Priam followed the young master of the Aelbes to a sort of dirt circle. Several smaller circles were drawn inside the larger one, and duels were taking place in most of them.
“The Gaeserts love lifting logs to build muscle, but that kind of training bores us. Instead, we prefer sparring or challenging the Cage,” he indicated a kind of cage to the right, where warriors were entering and exiting. The inside of the cage was blurry, but given the number of entries, Priam was sure it was spatially expanded.
“What’s inside?”
“Cat trees and obstacle courses. It’s especially useful for unlocking good movement skill upgrades and training while having fun.”
A cry drew Priam’s attention as one of the duels ended. Hit by a spinning kick, one of the warriors was thrown out of the circle. His opponent helped him up, laughing, and they walked away together.
“Want to warm up?” Rohan asked, stepping into the circle without waiting for an answer.
“Since you’re giving me a choice,” Priam said sarcastically.
A sword appeared in each of Rohan's hands, and Priam summoned Promesse. The two nodded, then Rohan leaped. His silhouette blurred, and Priam's eyes widened as he barely managed to raise his spear in time to block. The impact was light, surprising Priam almost as much as the second sword that shot toward his left thigh.
Pushing away the first blade, Priam spun his spear like a staff to deflect the second strike. He then launched a kick, forcing his opponent to retreat, and pressed his advantage with a jumping attack.
Rohan crossed his swords to absorb Promesse's crushing blow. Springing back, he repelled the weapon with a grunt. Priam landed a few meters away before resuming his stance. His hearts pounded, the spar awakening a desire to win.
Facing him, Rohan smiled, and Priam let his lips curl into a grin as well. Their physical attributes were nearly equal, and the Aelbes’ fighting style was new and intriguing. Adjusting his grip on his spear, Priam lunged. The clash of weapons created sparks and a clear sound. The succession of those produced a violent, epic symphony.
Lvl Up: [Hoplite Slash] lvl 9
STR +3
Ten seconds into the fight, Rohan elevated his style, and Priam realized he was outmatched in weapon proficiency. Despite Micro and Spear Mastery, his attacks barely grazed his opponent. Meanwhile, the Aelbes warrior spun, dodged, danced, parried, and attacked, pinpointing weaknesses in the Champion’s guard without landing a fatal blow. It was a spar to understand each other better, a duel where blows replaced words, but poetry reigned.
Priam knew Kazuki was a monster, but he had never fully grasped the extent of his rival’s talent. During their spar, the hoplite had been a teacher, maintaining a comprehensible level.
Here, the spectacle of the young master wielding two blades was breathtaking. Where Priam slashed to win, Rohan delivered a fencing demonstration. Innate talent, passion, and hard work had created a master of dual blades.
This was an opportunity too good to pass up.
“I can regenerate,” said Priam, feeling the duel’s intensity was insufficient to catalyze level-ups in his spear skills.
No sooner had he spoken than a slash appeared on his right arm. Burning his lifespan, his vitality closed the wound in a second, and Rohan burst out laughing.
The rest of the duel was brutal. His add-on analyzed the Aelbes’ battle style in real-time, occasionally providing appropriate counters. Most of the time, the exchanges were disadvantageous for Priam. The ground beneath their feet grew wet with his blood. It didn’t matter because he was progressing.
Half his attention was on Promesse and his body, using the duel as a whetstone to sharpen his skills. The other half was in the zone, studying his opponent and dictating movements.
Using his draconic vivacity, his new ideal skill, and an exceptional adversary, Priam rapidly improved.
STR +6
Lvl Up: [Unrelenting Thrust] lvl 31, 32, 33
STR +9
Lvl Up: [Parry] lvl 19
STR +1
Lvl Up: [Thick Blood] lvl 10, 11, 12
VIT +9
Lvl Up: [Atomos] lvl 9, 10
CONST +6
Lvl Up: [Kevlar Tissue] lvl 7, 8
CONST +6
Lvl Up: [Battle Flow] lvl 22, …, 27
PERC +6
DEXT +12
When Rohan retreated with a backflip, Priam seized the moment to catch his breath. Despite his vitality and [Three-Headed Hydra], his endurance wasn’t limitless, and his bone marrow struggled to produce enough blood. Without nutrients, his Merit used aether to regenerate his body, but even that resource was running low. Burning his lifespan multiplied his regeneration, but it didn’t make him immortal.
“It’s getting late,” Rohan said, glancing at the sky. “Gryphe should be awake by now.”
Priam blinked, looking at the Necromoon shining high above. Without the sun, the only way to tell time was by observing the constellations.
“I enjoyed the spar,” Priam admitted, letting his add-on and half his attention analyze the fight. His first impression had been poor, but after a good fight, he almost liked his training partner.
“Anytime,” Rohan laughed, tossing him an orange fruit. “We don’t have a tank in our tribe, so I appreciate the variety.”
Priam identified the gift.
[Vitamin-Rich Mango - Tier 1] - A mango packed with an impressive amount of nutrients. To be consumed after significant blood loss.
He bit into the fruit and smiled. “This is delicious!” he exclaimed after swallowing. “Where does it grow?” He needed Log-a-rhythm to analyze the seed after rewinding time.
“Our gardeners have cultivated this species for generations. There are mango trees on a floating island several days from here, but their fruits are nothing special. We sell ours for Sun points if you’re interested.”
“I’ll buy some, it's perfect for recovery.”
“The best thing,” Rohan said, dodging two children chasing each other, “is not to lose so much blood in the first place. For a moment, I thought you were under some kind of [Focus] skill. You know you’re allowed to dodge, right?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t train my resistances,” Priam joked.
Rohan’s look was eloquent, the young master questioning Priam’s sanity. Finally, he shrugged as they arrived in front of the now-open tent.
“Gryphe is gruff but kind,” Rohan warned.
“Thanks for the tip.” Seeing the young master hesitate to continue, Priam waited.
“Mmh… The young woman who was with you, in Braato’s tent…”
“Jasmine?”
“Yes. She seemed feline. Did she talk about me?”
This fucker…
The Homo Elysium squinted before grinning. “No,” he said, stepping into the tent.
Read 𝓁at𝙚st chapters at ƒrēewebnovel.com Only.
PHYSICAL:
Strength 755 (+29)
Constitution 1 195 (+16)
Agility 897
Vitality 1 147 (+17)
Perception 778 (+11)
MENTAL:
Vivacity (D) 599 (+4)
Dexterity 673 (+15)
Memory 864
Willpower 1 168
Charisma 692
META:
Meta-affinity 829
Meta-focus 417
Meta-endurance 710
Meta-perception 346
Meta-chance 274
Meta-authority 228
Potential: 13 862 (-278)
Tier 0
Sun points: 1 486 825 (+899)
[He Who Eludes Death] charge: PRIMED
[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.
Future Tribulations delayed until:
Time: 152 days 20 hours 40 minutes 10 seconds.
Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 600 / 6 attributes > 900 / 1 attribute > 1 200
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