Blood and brain matter sprayed out from under the end of the shaman's bone staff as it smashed into the zombified goblin fleshbeast's skull and crushed it into dust. The creature collapsed to the ground, what little remained of its flesh rippling outwards from the impact.
Ronan dropped the staff and fell to his knees. He glanced at his health, seeing he had a little under 10 points left. His eyes fell on the kill notification for the fleshbeast. When he willed it open, it merged with all the unread notifications and a summary of his handiwork was thrust in his face.
He tried to read through, but as he reached the end he could only sigh. The level up he'd been hoping for wasn't there. Despite it being the strongest monster he'd faced so far, killing it wasn't enough to push him all the way to the next level.
Rather than despair at his inevitable death that loomed overhead, Ronan let out a hearty chuckle. "Well, at least I killed all these ugly shits."
He felt the urge to open his status, but before he could another message flashed into view. That one made him laugh again, but with far less mirth.
Congratulations, you have cleared Stage 3 of the tutorial!
+150 Copper Credits
You will be awarded your personal trait based on all your accomplished merit thus far!
Stage 4 will begin in 1 minute!
Ronan's health ticked down with every second. Only seven points remained now. He was going to be awarded a personal trait, whatever that was.
He remembered seeing the section for traits in his status the last few times he opened it. Despite facing death, making the award rather useless, he was curious to see what his trait would be.
Berserking? He'd gone rather wild against all of the goblins in his rage and fury. Looking back, he wondered if it was his own instincts or the system twisting him to fall in love with the heat of battle.
No, it was definitely me. The way it felt to crush that disgusting zombie's brain into mush was almost… damn. Maybe I shouldn't have avoided dating for so long.
Health: 3/140
In a way, Ronan couldn't quite accept the finality of death. He'd come so close, so many times in what couldn't have been more than a day or two, that it felt rather natural to him now.
Your personal trait will now be assigned, stand by while your merit is judged…
The message flashed into view. Ronan glanced at it briefly, enraptured by its contents. He wasn't sure he had enough time to sit around while he was judged.
However, as the seconds passed by Ronan realised he was still alive. A quick glance at his health made him furrow his brow. It was stuck at 2 points and even as another second passed it remained stuck there.
Whatever was judging him, be it the system or some other mysterious, unknown power, also had the ability to freeze his health. No, it's frozen time! he suddenly realised as he looked around and saw the flickering flames in the braziers were unmoving, the shadows no longer dancing on the walls.
Ronan wasn't able to tell what else the system had manipulated, because the wait was over. He had been judged and his accomplishments would be boiled down into a single defining trait.
Your worth has been judged and you have been found… adequate. You have been awarded the personal trait [Inevitable]!
Inevitable (Epic): You are unrelenting in everything you do. Once you set your sights on something you will not rest until you have it in your grasp. All of your actions are infinitesimally more likely to succeed.
Ronan stared at the notification for what felt like an eternity. Time was frozen, so for all he knew it could've been. Inevitable.
It fit him well. The version of him that he'd become in this system-spawned hell, that is. Whether that was the real Ronan Steele, buried under the endless drudgery of modern life, or if it was a change brought about by the horrors he'd faced, he wasn't certain.
What he did know was that in the end, it didn't matter. As soon as time resumed, he would continue to bleed for another half second until his health points reached zero.
Then, he would die.
That was inevitable. Death. It happened to everyone sooner or later. For him, it was a little sooner than he'd originally planned for and a lot later than he'd expected given his current situation.
At least I took out all the goblins in this stage. That has to mean something… he told himself, not really believing it.
Time still hadn't resumed yet, even though he'd received his personal trait. He'd had the urge to open his status before that, but he'd been interrupted.
Ronan knew it was pointless to look. Soon it wouldn't matter. However, he could at least die with some pride in his achievements.
Real achievements that he'd earned with his sweat and blood. Not some moving numbers on a screen. Though he had been damn good at that, too.
He supposed it was a little similar, though the numbers now represented something real instead of shareholder value and other made up bullshit. With that thought, he opened his status for the last time.
[Status]
Name: Ronan Steele
Race: Human (G)
Heritage: @#^?
Level: 8
Class: N/A
Fortune: 329 Copper Credits
[Stats]
Health: 2/140
Stamina: 26/170
Mana: 60/60
Vitality: 14
Endurance: 17
Wisdom: 5 (+1)
Regeneration: 3
Resistance: 6 (+1)
Strength: 7
Agility: 10
Intelligence: 8
Dexterity: 5
Acuity: 7
Tenacity: 12
Luck: 4
Charisma: 4 (+1)
Available Points: 1
[Traits]
Personal: Inevitable (Epic)
[Skills]
Unified Language Adaptation (Universal)
Relentless Training (Common)
[Mastery]
Pugilist 30/100
Shield 14/100
Spear 1/100
Anti-Magic 1/100
Staff 3/100
[Cultivation]
Mind: None
Body: None
Energy: None
Soul: None
Laid bare for him to see, it was impressive. Numbers could tell vivid stories and these ones spoke of his victories in the tutorial.
Most of all, his mastery of pugilism—unarmed combat—and with the shield. He'd been using his shield as a weapon rather than a bastion of defence, but the system accepted it nonetheless.
Ronan wondered what would've happened if he reached 100 mastery. Was that the pinnacle or did a greater summit lie beyond? He would never know.
He wanted to scream and cry. To roar his anger and frustration at the system. He doubted it cared. At the same time he couldn't help but laugh.
There was still 1 free stat point left, a point he'd forgotten to assign in the throes of battle. Not that it would've changed the outcome of the fight or could save him now. There was no stat that stopped death by bleeding.
Or was there?
The affliction shouldn't last forever. It couldn't. That wouldn't make any sense. All wounds stopped bleeding eventually. So was there a way to survive?
At that moment he saw a flicker in the corner of his eye. The shadows on the wall began to dance, cast by the flickering flames of the braziers on the walls.
Time had resumed once more and his gaze immediately fell on his health points. Another point slipped away, bringing him towards the sweet embrace of death.
Adding the point to vitality and getting another ten points of health might keep him alive. If the bleeding was external, that is.
He was dying from a head wound. He had no way to stop internal bleeding. The only stat that might save his life was regeneration.
Health: 1/140
In his final moment, Ronan decided he wasn't a desperate coward. He knew there was nothing he could do. So, instead of clawing at pointless hopes, he put the free point right where it belonged.
Strength.
It was a minor increase, but he felt it rippling across his body. Muscles swelled and then condensed as they were brought to another level of power.
His skin rippled as the changes took hold, even his bones hardening ever so slightly. When it settled, Ronan's mouth split into a blood-stained, toothy grin.
"I hope you enjoyed watching me suffer, you piece of shit system. I hope one day some poor bastard who survived this hellish tutorial climbs all the way up to wherever you are and rips you apart. Humans are tough motherfuckers, just you wait," Ronan cackled as his health dropped to 0.
This time, there was no last minute kill to save him. No ally to bring him the experience needed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.
Everything went dark as he fell to his knees. His grin never left his face even as his eyes glazed over. Ronan Steele died, but he didn't collapse to the ground, even in death.
When something died in the tutorial, it tended to disperse back into ambient mana. This process began the moment a monster or sentient being lost their last point of health.
A single mote of mana broke free from Ronan's corpse and began to drift into the air of the stone brick dungeon, when an utterly eldritch sound sliced through the silence like a lovecraftian knife.