It hadn’t been an easy two weeks since the Integration of Sector Zet 95.8Y of interstellar space—or, as the locals called it, the Orion Spur of the Milky Way Galaxy. As with all integrations, the Root Source provided each of the Warring Factions with several new Kingdoms to nurture, dependent on their Galactic Standing. But this integration had come with a twist. The Root, in its infinite wisdom, had strove to create an even greater challenge by pitting members of each Faction against one another.
Unlike prior Integrations, Factions were not granted large swaths of Kingdoms to supervise. Instead, each member of the ruling families were given their own individual Kingdoms. For many, this was an opportunity to complete a Root-provided [Quest] that could propel them to the next step of Ascension. It was common knowledge that once you began your Climb, the path to Ascension was filled with trials and tribulations. Some, so difficult that they trapped you for decades—or even millennia—wasting your longevity traveling the stars, forcing you to watch others grow more powerful than you, while you languish in mediocrity. For many, this [Quest] was an opportunity too good to ignore.
The Mortanre Family of the 1st Faithful Empire was no exception. Nearly thirty Kingdoms had been awarded during this Integration, a veritable treasure trove of opportunities for an already powerful Faction. Some of the younger members of the family had gone above and beyond, risking it all by developing AIs that cost generations worth of Platinum to build and refine. These AI were designed to provide their Citizens with every possible advantage in securing dominance over the new sector of space.
But not everyone was pleased with their progress.
The grand hall of the Mortanre Family’s flagship was a sight to behold. Golden light shimmered off the gilded filagree covering the limestone walls, and the air was thick with the scent of incense. At the head of the long, ornate table sat the Divine Pharoah Ra’Rati Mortanre, his golden hair cascading over his shoulds like a lion’s mane. His presence was commanding, his voice a thunderous roar that echoed through the chamber.
“Ash’Rati Mortanre,” the Divine Pharoah bellowed, his piercing gaze locking onto Ash, who was slouched in his seat at the far end of the table. ”You have disgraced the Royal House of the 1st Faithful with your truly abysmal showing in the first two weeks of these games.”
Ash smirked, his voice barely above a whisper as he nudged his sister, Kho’Rati, sitting to his right. “Uh-oh, Great hic Great Grandpa is angry.” He reached for her drink, his movements slow and deliberate, as if daring anyone to stop him.
The Divine Pharoah's eyes narrowed. “This is exactly why we punished you all those millennia ago, trapping you in this diminutive form. It was meant to teach you patience and RESPECT, but I see you are truly lost.”
Ash leaned back in his chair, his expression one of mock innocence. “Lost? Me? Never.”
The Divine Pharoah sighed, collapsing into his throne with a wave of his hand. The Great Royal Wife, Ash’s grandmother, stood gracefully, her presence calming the tension in the room. “Let us not become trapped in the failure of the one and ignore the success of the many. Kho’Rati, please give us your report.”
Kho’Rati stood, her olive skin glowing with a resplendent aura. She was the picture of poise and discipline, everything Ash was not. “Thank you, Great Royal Wife. My Kingdom is a fragment of a satellite planet that orbited this Earth during the integration. Unfortunately, the lunar body is not habitable, and I have few Citizens. However, those I do have are showing remarkable strength.”
She paused, her voice steady and confident. “They exhibit great aptitude in teamwork and problem-solving, likely due to the extensive training they underwent before venturing into space. They’ve transformed their ‘space station’ into a functional home base and have begun exploring the surface of this moon in search of food and water.”
Kho’Rati’s tone grew more animated as she continued. “As with all things the Root provides, there was a seed of life deep within the moon’s core. My Citizens have discovered an extensive underground tunnel system teeming with plant life. Unfortunately, The Root was not able to create very powerful Beasts for them to test their strength against, and as such, I worry about their readiness for the First Convergence.”
She concluded with a proud smile. “Thankfully, we’ve gained a number of Viewers due to the unique environment my Citizens find themselves in. The discovery of the underground network has sparked interest, and my AI is operating at full capacity, providing them with a variety of [Skills] to level. I have hope that their perseverance will make for an engaging show as the integration continues.”
Ash snorted as she sat down, earning a sharp glare from his grandmother. “By the Old Gods and the New,” he muttered under his breath, “such a kiss-ass.”
The Great Royal Wife cleared her throat, her voice carrying the weight of authority. “Thank you, Kho’Rati, I know you all wish to return to your Viewing Ports, so I will keep this brief. Any sign of weakness by the 1st Faithful is unacceptable. Every one of you in this room bears the weight of the entire Empire on your shoulders. We of the 1st Faithful have been a beacon of strength throughout the Cracked Kingdoms since the 10th Integration, and we will continue to be during this, the 856th Integration.”
She paused, her gaze sweeping the room. “We are still early in these games. As the weeks turn to months and the months turn to years, do not forget your oath.” With the strength of someone who had long ago started her Climb, she hammered her fist against her chest. “Strive for Greatness, and Greatness will Find You!”
Each member of the 1st Faithful Empire stood with a speed that had been drilled into them since birth, their voices echoing in unison: “Strive for Greatness, and Greatness will Find You!”
Ash took this opportunity to reach for Uncle's wine, slurping it down with gusto before standing and repeating the phrase—too late and under his breath. As the family began filing out of the room, Ash turned to leave as well, only to feel the rough grip of his uncle’s hand on his shoulder.
Uncle Maa’Rati Mortanre was a man whose face seemed permanently etched in a scowl. A seasoned warrior, he had proved himself time and time again on the battlefield, leading his Kingdom against the tides of enemies of the 1st Faithful. Now, his stormy gaze was fixed on Ash, his uncharacteristically blue eyes like a raging ocean.
“Ash’Rati Mortanre,” Maa’Rati growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You are my blood, and because of that, I know you cannot be this stupid. Our strength comes from our familial bonds. To have integrated a Kingdom that only has one Viewer—one—is an embarrassment. I do not know what game you play, but you are toying with the very livelihoods of your brethren.”
He took a deep, calming breath, though his grip on Ash’s shoulder tightened. “Speak to your AI. What do you call it? Bev? Speak to her and find a way to make your Ruler more appealing. If you do not, I will be forced to visit you myself.”
With a shove, Maa’Rati stormed off towards the Portal Room; his golden hair streaked with black—a mark of his impure bloodline. No wonder the Divine Pharoah had assigned him to lead their armies from the front lines.
Ash watched him go, a wry smile spreading across his face as he brushed off his shoulder where his Uncle had dared to touch him. Oh, he had a great idea for what was coming next for Buck Blackwood. His family had underestimated him for far too long.
—-
[42:06:23]
Buck had noticed a few astonishing things as he began his second journey into the forest around his home. While the abilities he’d gained were powerful, the passive increases in his body and mind were where the real magic happened. Each step he took was softer, quieter, allowing him to move through the underbrush like a shadow. His heightened perception, thanks to [Hunting], gave him not only the ability to sense when the beasts noticed him but also an almost preternatural awareness of their location. The measly three coyotes he’d first fought stood no chance against him now. With the increase in his Skills, he could sneak right up to them without them ever knowing he was there. And he was getting stronger.
However, Mr. Seeker quickly proved his worth during their first encounter.
“Okay, buddy,” Buck said, focusing on the yellow eyes before him. “Your description says you have a [Scouting] Skill, but I don’t have any clue what that is. I can sense there’s something just past those trees ahead of us. Why don’t you show me what you're made of, huh?”
Buck gestured for the Corpse Seeker to move forward, and with a surprise, it obeyed with eerie enthusiasm. Silently, the Corpse Seeker disappeared into the canopy above, a wave of invisible energy following it as it stalked forward. Buck breathed a sigh of relief. He’d initially worried that he’d need to micromanage the thing, but it seemed Mr. Seeker had enough intelligence to avoid blundering into combat.
As the seconds ticked by, Buck began to worry that the Corpse Seeker had justified his feelings. He started to rise, planning on sneaking forward, when a wave of comprehension flooded his mind.
[Coyote]
-Level 11-
It was as if Buck were standing in the grove himself. He saw the [Coyote] sitting in a tuft of grass, licking its misshapen paws clean of blood after killing some small rodent. He could smell the metallic tang of the fresh kill, feel the breeze rustling through the leaves. The Corpse Seeker’s skill was astounding. With careful planning, Buck could scout out every encounter before engaging. Combined with his [Soft Steps], sneaking up on his foes would be exponentially easier. Might as well put it to the test.
Buck circled the grove, stalking through the underbrush with practiced ease. Each step was deliberate, instinctual, as he placed his feet where they would make the least noise. Slowly, he passed through a pair of trees, knowing the [Coyote] would be facing the opposite direction. It was one of the middle-tier coyotes—the most normal-looking of the trio. From behind, it almost reminded him of a pre-integration coyote, minus the spine that curved back and forth like a drunk driving accident waiting to happen. With a pounce, he activated [Punch], braining the beast before it could react.
That had been… easy.
Buck couldn’t help but feel a surge of elation. By combining his [Skills] and [Abilities], he started feeling less like prey and more like a predator. The concept of all this wanton killing still didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t expect himself to change his entire nature in just a few weeks. Before he could move on, though, Bev decided to chime in.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
[Congratulations, Your Tracking Skill has Increased to 1]
[Tracking] (Common - Exploration)
Level 1
Stumbling into battles with mighty beasts is just the first step to becoming a mighty Hunter. You also need to be able to find them. A snapped twig here. A bent branch there. A pile of scat that you just have to taste to figure out what type of beast you're tracking. Don’t look at me like that. It’s an important step.
[Congratulations, Your Compulsion Skill has Increased to 1]
[Compulsion] (Basic - Cultivation)
Level 1
Projecting your will upon the masses is the first step to becoming a powerful leader. Well, leader is a strong term. This Skill is mostly for our non-animal, non-Citizen denizens of the Cracked Kingdoms. For you, that's all those undead creatures you seem dead set on raising. They're pretty stupid to start with, so I wouldn’t worry too much…or would I?
[Congratulations, Your Scouting Skill has Increased to 1]
[Scouting] (Basic - Exploration)
Level 1
Gaining knowledge is key to surviving in the Cracked Kingdoms. [Identify] can only take you so far, as you discovered when you almost became bear stew. Scouting is the act of staying far away but still learning stuff. That ‘stuff’ fully relies on your scouting level, so GET BACK TO WORK.
Buck had unlocked three skills from that one kill. He knew his rapid Skill acquisition would slow down eventually, but for now, he’d take all he could get. Each level-up increased his chance of survival—and of reuniting with his family.
Over the next week, Buck focused on leveling his core Skills. His Overall Attributes were high thanks to his Character Level and the mountain of [Titles] he’d earned, but he’d only cleared these coyotes that immediately surrounded his home. Evander had explained that once he’d reached Level 25, he would need to increase his Skill Level to 25 before progressing. His highest Skill, [Gathering], was only level 9. Buck had a lot of work to do if he ever wanted to face that bear in the northern section of his land.
So Buck set out, using his new Skills to become a veritable specter of death. The first few hunts were trial and error, reminding him he wasn’t invincible. He’d step on a stick, trip over a rock, or misjudge a [Punch], giving the coyotes a chance to land a quick swipe before he finished them off. But with each failure came insight.
He was relieved to discover that his new armor's [Repair] function worked like a charm. After one harrowing fight in which a coyote locked its jaw around his [Leather Vambraces], sinking its teeth deep into the worn leather, Buck noticed the armor slowly repairing itself. The shallow gouges faded as a trickle of Source flowed through it. With some experimentation, he found he could also speed up the process by infusing his own Source into the armor.
Combat against the low-level coyotes quickly became routine, and with his improved skill in [Tracking], Buck set his sights on a new challenge: a nest of [Kingfisher Herons]. The confidence he’d gained from the near genocide of the local coyote population gave him the courage to face a stronger foe.
Now, Buck found himself stalking his new prey. He’d picked up the heron’s tracks along the southern riverbank, figuring it was as good a place to start as any. Tracking birds that could fly proved more challenging than he’d anticipated. After nearly a full day of searching, he was ready to call it quits—until he discovered something.
Bird shit.
By following the trail of the heron droppings, Buck mapped out their flight path. They seemed to nest in the canopy where the treeline met the mountains on his southern border. Concerned about fighting them while clinging to a tree, he set up a pile of stinking fish as bait and waited.
With his enhanced Dexterity, it had been shockingly easy to snatch the little guys out of the water. His father absolutely would have scolded him for ruining the art of fishing, but gods, he didn’t care. It was quite fun, as if he were the claw in a machine, just snatching up little tchotchkes.
A familiar screech echoed through the trees. His plan had borne fruit. Cautiously, he mentally commanded Mr. Seeker to scout ahead, using the [Push] Ability he had gained from raising [Compulsion] to level 10. As Mr. Seeker passed through the brush, its yellow eyes revealed a trio of [Kingfisher Herons].
The herons were testing the fish with their long, needle-like beaks, their movements deliberate and precise. A level of intelligence shone in their cold, glassy eyes—something Buck hadn’t expected. Unlike the mindless rage of the coyotes, these creatures seemed… calculated. Almost predatory in their patience. Buck pushed aside his doubts and crept closer, keeping part of his focus on the Seeker’s vision. The herons took the bait, their beaks slicing through the fish with a surgical precision. But it wasn’t just their beaks that caught Buck’s attention. Raptor-like claws, sharp and blackened like obsidian, tore into the flesh of the fish, shredding it into manageable pieces. Claws that Buck hadn’t noticed before.
That wasn’t the only thing he hadn’t noticed. Just like the coyotes, the herons had been twisted by the Root. But whereas the coyotes had grown bloated and monstrous, the herons were unnaturally thin. Emaciated. Their feathers clung to their bodies like a shroud, barely concealing the horror beneath. Behind the thin layer of plumage, Buck could see their bones—ribs protruding like the bars of a cage, their hollow frames barreling containing the organs within. And those organs… gods. Pulsing and writhing as if trying to escape the confines of the herons’ skeletal bodies. Veins snaked across their translucent skin, throbbing with a glow that hinted at the Source flowing through them.
Buck’s stomach churned as he watched one of the herons tilt its head, its neck bending at an unnatural angle. The skin stretched taut over its vertebrae, threatening to tear with every movement. How these creatures were even standing baffled him. Their legs, thin as twigs, trembled under their own weight, yet they moved with a grace that sent a chill down his spine. Their eyes, sunken and glowing faintly, darted around as if aware of his presence. Every breath they took sounded wet and labored, as though their lungs were filled with liquid. The air around them seemed to hum with a low, almost imperceptible vibration, like the distant drone of a swarm of insects.
Buck paused, the sight causing doubt to grow within him like a parasite. These weren’t just animals. They were abominations—twisted mockeries of life, held together by the Root’s cruel design.
The plan stayed the same.
With a flash, he activated [Step Forward], appearing behind one of the herons. His fist passed through its hollow bones like butter. But the herons reacted faster than the coyotes. A powerful gust of wind buffeted Buck's back, and shallow cuts peppered his stomach and legs. [Guard] had activated just in time. It seemed the herons did, in fact, possess an offensive ability.
Buck bobbed and weaved backward, his [Footwork] keeping him just out of reach. After the opening salvo, the windlike blades of Source dissipated. Hopefully, it was a one-time skill. But he wasn’t given time to think. The herons dove at him, their beaks like spears. He dodged the second, delivering a killing blow with [Punch], but the third and final heron’s beak pierced his abdomen. Pain flooded his body as he wrapped his arms around the bird, trapping its beak inside him. Its claws raked across his calf, catching on his greaves before they could do serious damage.
With a surge of strength, Buck felt around the emaciated body until he located what he was searching for. The heron’s heart. Jabbing with Root-enhanced strength, Buck slid his hand around the creature's protruding heart, feeling it thump rhythmically between his fingers. With a disgusting squelch—he squeezed, the heart bursting under the strain. It didn’t take long for the now heartless heron to fall limp in his arms.
He took a moment to pull the beak from his body and activated a healing potion, watching his wounds knit themselves back together. That had gone… well, all things considered. Only one of the birds had wounded him. With a bit more practice, he’d be able to safely add this area to his training grounds.
Buck gathered the herons’ corpses, figuring Evander could make use of them. Maybe their eyes would create a new variation of the Corpse Seeker. A flashing light on his interface informed him he’d leveled up.
[Name] Blackwood
[Race] Human
[Class] Pugilist (Basic)
[Level] 21
[Strength] 18
[Dexterity]18
[Endurance] 18
[Intelligence] 0
[Charisma] 15
[Luck] 13
[Titles] Amphibian - Buckets of Blood - Explorer -Race to the Top - Lucky - Massive Cheater - Attribute Collector - First Citizen - Command
[Skills] Spelunking 11 - Sneak 13 - Walking 8 - Breathing 10 - Gathering 9 - Grappling 3 - Writing 3 - Hand to Hand 12 - Hunting 9 - Bushcraft 4 - Reading 2 - Running 4 - Cartography 2 - Tracking 4 - Compulsion 10 - Scouting 4 - Footwork 2
[Abilities]
Passive: Basic Caver - Soft Steps - Walking Proficiency - Breathing Proficiency - Basic Hunter - Push
Active: Punch - Step Forward - Guard - Identify - Hand to Hand Mastery
[Congratulations! You have received the Command Title]
[Command]
Gain control of your First Minion, and set them upon the world.
To wander alone is to be truly lost. The Cracked Kingdoms spread across the very cosmos themselves. From towering mountains to deep valleys, one cannot hope to explore them all themselves, especially if one is alone. Sad and alone. Hell, a pair of floating eyeballs may not be the best companion in this twisted realm, but at least you have someone to talk to. I mean, you could talk to me, but you seem to not want to do that. Whatever. I’m fine.
Reward: You Gain +1 Charisma
The battle had pushed his Character Level to 21. He was pleased to see that he’d gained a [Title] for interacting with his Minion, Mr. Seeker, though he was disappointed he hadn’t received the ‘First!’ reward like with many of his other Titles. Thinking of it, Evander had clearly beaten him to it.
Buck’s [Character] menu was quickly becoming unruly, filled with information from top to bottom. Two weeks ago, it would’ve sent him into a coma trying to figure out what it all meant. He really needed to figure out if he could sort out any of this information. Two weeks. God's time passed quickly. Looking at his time, he was relieved to see he still had over a month to complete the quest.
[35:23:10]
Scanning his surroundings with the [Identify], he double-checked for anything he might’ve missed before heading home. He’d passed the level 20 requirement to select his first Attunement a few days back but had hesitated, unsure of the consequences. Now, with this hunt under his belt, he felt ready to take the next step. But as he gazed back towards the battlefield, a thought struck him: What was going to happen when he chose one? Would attuning his body to Death turn him into some kind of ghoul? Buck shuddered at the idea. He would have to question Evander when he returned.
“Come on, Mr. Seeker,” Buck said, turning toward home. “Might as well go find out.”
The Corpse Seeker zipped out of the bush, following Buck as he jogged through the woods.
—-
Fear wracked the hidden figure's body as he forced himself to remain still. Do not move. Do not breathe. The spell he’d cast, [Verdent Passage], made him nearly invisible—a shadow among shadows. Only those trained to detect his specific mana signature could sense him. And even then, they’d have to be looking very hard.
But this… thing… this abomination he’d been trailing wasn’t just anyone. It was something else entirely. Something that made his fur stand on end and his instincts scream to run. The creature paused, its grotesque minion shuffling behind it like a puppet on rotten strings. For a heart-stopping moment, it tilted its head as if listening. The figure’s breath hitched. Don’t turn around. Please, don’t turn around.
Then, as if mocking his terror, the creature stalked off. They disappeared in the gloom of the first, leaving behind a silence so heavy it felt like the trees themselves were holding their breath.
The figure waited a beat longer, then exhaled sharply, brushing leaves from his fur as he stepped out of the bush. His heart still pounded, but his mind raced faster. The Chieftain had been right. He’d laughed when the scouting party returned, babbling about a trespasser on the lands of the Children of the Howling Moon. A trespasser who was culling their packs like a farmer thinning weeds. He’d called them cowards, fools. But now…
Now, his own eyes had seen it.
The Whisper of Death had come. And it wasn’t here for their land.
It was here for their souls.
