(Page 624, Section 2)
Nothing typically increases the strength of the soul faster than facing death. While this training method may sound appealing, it carries significant drawbacks. First, you risk actual death. Second, you risk mental collapse or crippling fear. Third—and arguably the least harmful yet still critical—is becoming immune to the fear of death, which renders this method of training useless once that fear no longer applies.
Unless you have a means to repeatedly face death in a controlled environment, this approach is generally unwise. Better, safer techniques exist for cultivating the soul.
Source: Intriguing Soul Facts – Lich Voidaris
Excerpt 8 End
Gasping for air, Hassan found himself back with the caregiver, who was just about to feed him. A system prompt he had been ignoring up until now flickered into his awareness:
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You have perished
Exiting System Training Space
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A chill crept down his spine—he had actually died in the system space. So it was real, he thought, gingerly touching his neck. The memory of the bird attack flared in his mind: a single bite, barely a twinge of pain, then instant darkness. If just stepping into the forest caused his death, what else lurks in this world?
Still rattled, he noticed the caregiver’s worried expression. The massive Zamongarai gently lowered the food, scooped Hassan into its arms, and began a comforting, rhythmic sway. Despite his embarrassment, Hassan felt his panic subside. He realized how powerless he was in his current, child-like state. Trying to face the forest again so soon would be reckless.
Maybe I should just wait until I’m bigger... stronger. Surviving the forest might become a test of readiness in this world.
When the caregiver sensed his fear ebbing, it set him back on the ground and resumed feeding him. Spoonful by spoonful, Hassan calmed down further, using the simple act of eating to distract himself from the lingering dread.
He mentally outlined a few new goals to keep himself focused:
- Avoid the forest for now and continue training in the relatively safer grassy plains until he could defend himself.
- Learn the Zamongarai language so he might eventually pick up local magic or knowledge.
- Gather more information about the camp and the surrounding world—even if that meant peeking outside the tent occasionally.
Finishing the meal, Hassan checked his status panel. To his surprise, his soul attribute had jumped by 0.05. Then he remembered something from the Basic Soul Manual about how traumatic experiences boosting soul strength. The increase reminded him how real the fear of death had been.
No way I’m doing that again, he told himself, the memory still too raw. The fear was paralyzing, even if it wasn’t permanent.
Still absentmindedly rubbing his neck, he tried to shift his thoughts to training. Moving around eased his mind, but drew a sharp inhale from the caregiver. Glancing over, Hassan noticed the caregiver’s wide eyes, perhaps astonished by how stable Hassan appeared on his hooves.
They’re probably shocked at how fast I’m developing.
But, as usual, the caregiver only observed in silence. Hassan saw no point in waiting and resumed his exercises.
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One week later.
Over the past week, Hassan found himself growing in more ways than one. Most noticeably, his body size had increased enough that he no longer fit into the caregiver’s single hand. Though he couldn’t gauge his exact height or weight, the change in heft and stature was undeniable.
As his physique advanced, so did his aptitude for the training manuals. His attributes and skills improved at a steady pace, mirroring the effort he put into daily exercises. Even where certain points, like Zamongarai’s Sense, stalled near ranking up, he felt each day brought him closer to uncovering his full potential.
Meanwhile, the world around him shifted as well. A once-mild climate grew windy and cold, prompting the caregiver to offer an extra hide for warmth. Balancing rest with caution became essential; though he wanted to push his limits, he also needed to avoid overexertion.
Beyond these major strides, Hassan noticed smaller changes that reinforced his progress. He received extra food, occasionally glimpsed the camp beyond his tent, and watched as thicker fur gradually covered his body. Even though these updates felt minor in comparison, each detail confirmed he was steadily growing stronger.
Perhaps the greatest quality-of-life improvements came from his coordination and bodily control. He could now walk without stumbling and even balance briefly on one leg, though his hooves still wobbled if he pushed too far. There was also the unexpected triumph of managing his bowels and bladder—at least during the day—a milestone that felt especially rewarding given his baby form.
Curious about the exact scope of his progress, he summoned his panel:
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
#####
Name: None
Race: Zamongarai
Age: 22 days
Tier: 0
Attributes:
Physique: 0.17 → 0.43
Mind: 10.54 → 10.70
Soul: 9.81 → 9.98
Talents:
Human Intelligence (Rank 3: 16% → 21%) – Expand
Human Soul (Rank 2: 94% → 99%) – Expand
Zamongarai’s Physique (Rank 0: 19% → 48%) – Expand
Zamongarai’s Sense (Rank 1: 94% → 99%) – Expand
Zamongarai’s Soul (Rank 0: 34% → 48%) – Expand
Vessel Control (Rank Unknown) – Expand
Skills: Physique Manual (Basic: 2% → 6%), Mind Manual (Basic: 4% → 15%), Soul Manual (Basic: 1% → 9%)
System Training Space – Time remaining until reset: 16 hours, 47 minutes, 38 seconds – Current Mode: Tutorial
#####
While admiring his current attributes, Hassan focused on his human soul, which stubbornly remained at rank 2 (99%). He had no idea what might push it over that threshold. At the same time, he noticed all his skills becoming harder to advance—every manual seemed to require a deeper level of mastery as he progressed.
He found the physique manual particularly challenging. A sizable portion of its guidance revolved around muscle-straining exercises that demanded more strength and maturity than his youthful frame could handle.
He also lacked the complete neuromuscular coordination he remembered from his past life. Despite improving agility, it was clear his rapidly developing body needed time to catch up with his mind. Fortunately, milestones like stable posture, efficient motor control, and balanced muscle growth would happen naturally.
Hassan figured a little patience now would let him reap greater rewards later, once he could safely train at higher intensities.
The mind manual wasn’t as intimidating as he’d first feared, yet it was undeniably getting more complex. He likened it to rewiring his own thinking—rooting out habits he once saw as harmless, such as jumping to conclusions or relying on assumptions without proof.
He also recognized how easily he could lose sight of his real goals, accept misleading information, or develop a one-sided perspective while ignoring his own ignorance. These insights drove home the importance of breaking those patterns and refining his every thought.
By contrast, the soul manual proved both the hardest and the most enjoyable to engage with. It offered him a glimpse into entirely new ways of perceiving the world—an exhilarating experience given his still-developing body. However, it also forced him to slow down and notice the smallest details he might otherwise overlook.
Sight, touch, and hearing advanced the quickest—he could spot even subtle changes in the light, recognize different textures with touch, and pick up faint sounds drifting through the air. Smell and taste, on the other hand, lagged behind because he lacked a variety of odors and flavors to refine them.
Even so, he remained confident that his rapid growth would eventually grant him access to a wider range of stimuli—perhaps exotic herbs, new types of food, or richer fragrances. Each discovery could unlock deeper layers of soul training.
It helped that Zamongarai’s Sense hovered near the next rank, though it too had stalled at 99%. Hassan wasn’t entirely sure how to overcome that final barrier, but he trusted that with enough time and the right experiences, both his senses and his soul would continue to evolve.
A moment later, a different Zamongarai—far larger than the caregiver—stepped into the tent. Hassan recognized this newcomer immediately. He’d nicknamed the big Zamongarai Major Megaphone because it usually arrived with a spear slung over its back, then launched into loud arguments with the caregiver.
Hassan had grown so accustomed to those vocal clashes that he used them to train his sense of hearing, hoping to pick up a few words of the local language. Unfortunately, the caregiver typically stayed quiet during these encounters, making real linguistic progress painfully slow.
This time, however, there was no outburst at all. Major Megaphone barely acknowledged the caregiver—uttering just a few calm words—then strode straight to Hassan, scooping him up along with a nearby animal hide.
Before Hassan could fully register what was happening, a yell erupted behind them. He glanced back at the caregiver’s worried expression, but Major Megaphone took no notice and kept walking.
At the tent’s threshold, guilt gnawed at Hassan—he could see the caregiver’s distress—yet his desire to explore the outside world burned stronger. Moreover, he had no way to resist. He knew he’d still need care given his young age, but he hoped it wouldn’t mean ending up in someone else’s tent. He genuinely liked the caregiver and didn’t want that bond to end.
Confusion warred with excitement as he left the caregiver behind. They had always been gentle and kind, yet he had longed to see more of the camp—especially under some form of protection—and this moment felt like the perfect chance.
The moment they stepped into the open air, bright sunshine greeted them, along with a biting cold that made Hassan’s breath visible. Thankfully, Major Megaphone had the sense to wrap him in the hide before leaving.
Hassan soon noticed they weren’t alone. The camp was teeming with Zamongarai seated around campfires, either working or bartering goods. Yet the moment people spotted Major Megaphone, a hush fell, and all eyes turned their way.
Some Zamongarai stood and pressed weapons to their chests in what seemed like a sign of respect. Others looked tense or hostile, as if harboring cold anger. A few merely watched with detached curiosity. Suddenly, one Zamongarai yelled and gestured in Hassan’s direction, drawing attention to him. Many stared with pity or sadness, though the angry ones gradually settled down.
Meanwhile, Major Megaphone kept moving, ignoring the crowd altogether. The caregiver, it seemed, had stayed behind in the tent.
As they pressed on, Hassan realized how massive this settlement was. Rows of tents sprawled in every direction, and well-worn paths cut through the encampment like rudimentary roads. It felt far more like a town than a simple camp. He spotted a smithy belching sparks, a bakery stand exuding faintly familiar smells, and even a few stone buildings, which sharply contrasted with the surrounding tents.
This made him wonder why more permanent stone structures hadn’t replaced the tents in the first place. They would offer better protection from wind and cold, and he figured that with magic, they shouldn’t be too difficult to construct.
Wherever Major Megaphone went, the reaction remained the same: respect, uneasy silence, or outright fear. Based on what Hassan had read in the Basic Physique Manual, a Zamongarai’s size directly correlated to their base physique attributes—and those attributes functioned like a multiplier for physical strength. Since Major Megaphone towered over every other Zamongarai he’d seen, it stood to reason he was by far the strongest among them.
There were also some Zamongarai who stood out from the rest, draped in robes of gray, silver, or pure white that bore strange symbols. Each carried a staff, and Hassan couldn’t help but associate them with the classic “robed mage with a staff” stereotype he knew from games.
He also noticed younger Zamongarai wandering around, though calling them “kids” felt odd for beings standing one and a half to two meters tall. One of them even tried attacking an adult—unsuccessfully—and received a reprimand rather than a genuine fight. The entire scene reminded Hassan just how unusual it was to label someone so large as a child.
Before he could absorb more of his surroundings, Major Megaphone halted before the largest tent Hassan had encountered yet. Two armored large Zamongarai stood guard at the entrance. For once, Major Megaphone paused to speak with them. One guard disappeared inside, then returned moments later and signaled for them to enter.
Hassan’s pulse quickened. Without hesitation, Major Megaphone carried him past the guards and into the tent’s dim interior, leaving him to wonder who—or what—awaited them inside.