(A/N:
A big thank you to conqueror_supreme for the power stones. It was very much appreciated.
And as usual don't forget to leave behind a comment or a review.
Enjoy… )
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Chapter Eleven — Becoming…
[STATUS]
Name: ########
Race: ########, vampire (4.3%)
Age: 7
Rank: common (low)
Trait: Absolute
Description: In a ###### of shifting paradoxes and endless possibilities, you alone are absolute.
Effect: You are limitless.
Sub-Trait: Devour
Description: You have awakened the embodiment of consumption.
Effect: You are what you eat.
[STATS]
Physique: 0.8
Soul: 1.0
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Azeroth stared at the translucent panel hovering before him.
He blinked, once.
Twice.
Then a third time—slowly.
Not because he didn't understand the words.
But because he did.
Race: ########, vampire (4.3%)
His gaze lingered there longer than anywhere else.
When his sub-trait, Devour, had activated and consumed the dagger, information had flooded his mind—its purpose, its function, its nature.
And it was exactly as he expected.
Devouring allowed him to gain attributes, traits, bloodlines, memories… and even instincts.
In short, it did exactly what its effect claimed.
It made him become what he ate.
So when he devoured a dagger forged from a vampire's core, the result was inevitable.
His attributes had increased.
And he had gained access to the vampire bloodline.
The percentage beside it wasn't arbitrary. Azeroth was certain of that. It represented progress—completion.
Raising it to one hundred percent would mean acquiring the vampire bloodline in full.
Becoming a descendant of two major races.
The thought sent a faint thrill through him.
But it was short-lived.
Because his original race—what he had always assumed to be human—remained hidden. Distorted. Reduced to incomprehensible nonsense.
Ever since the first day he'd seen his status, the thought had never truly left him.
What if I'm not human?
But it made no sense. His parents are both human.
Which meant he should be a human too.
Unless of course,—
Azeroth exhaled slowly and rubbed his temples.
This line of thought led nowhere. Only in circles and speculation.
So he forced his attention elsewhere.
Down.
To his stats.
[STATS]
Physique: 0.8
Soul: 1.0
The increase wasn't small.
Not by a long shot.
An unranked being—no matter how gifted or unique—could possess at most 0.1 in any attribute, physique or soul.
Surpass that threshold, and evolution occurs.
They ascend to become a common-ranked existence, with their limits expanded to ten points per attribute.
It was for this very reason that Azeroth had always regarded his trait—Absolute—with trepidation. Because if its said effect was true…
Combined with Devour—
He didn't even want to imagine it.
But even without checking his status, Azeroth could still feel the change.
Not just in numbers—but in his body.
His physique had increased fourfold.
His soul, twice over.
The effects were overwhelming.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears—sharper, heavier. Each pulse carried a faint heat through his veins, unfamiliar yet strangely natural.
His senses felt… tuned.
He could hear the footsteps beyond the corridor walls. Smell iron and old stone. Even the fossilized remains nearby carried faint, lingering scents.
That wasn't to dismiss the growing feeling in his bones—that he could crush anything and everything if he tried.
Of course, that was just due to his stats rising so fast.
Worse—or perhaps better—was the sensation at the core of his being. As though the very foundation of his existence had expanded, elevating him to a higher state.
Azeroth basked in it.
The feeling was beyond bliss.
When it finally faded, he turned his unsatisfied gaze toward the next display case.
Then froze.
"Shit." He whispered.
Only now did he realize what he'd just done.
Not damaged.
Destroyed.
He had destroyed an artifact.
What's going to happen now?
As if summoned by the thought, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.
In less than a moment, Azeroth found himself surrounded—soldiers in polished armor, spears leveled squarely in his direction.
And at the forefront—
His mother.
He swallowed.
"Hehe…" he said slowly.
"Hi, Mom."
"Azeroth? What are you—" Serena began, but her gaze flicked from him to the shattered display and back again, and she swiftly connected the dots.
"…you better have an explanation for this, young man," she said, narrowing her eyes as she waved the soldiers down.
A few moments ago, the runes embedded in the display case had activated—signaling a theft. The alarm had cut out almost instantly, enough for her to suspect a malfunction.
Still, unwilling to take the risk, she'd gathered soldiers and converged on the location.
Only to find Azeroth.
And an empty, broken display case.
Under his mother's piercing stare, Azeroth scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"…that… that I can explain?"
"Then go on," Serena said evenly. "I want to hear the excuse you come up with. And where are the contents?"
Another awkward scratch.
For the first time, Azeroth realized—
This wasn't something he could joke his way out of.
"Well…" he began,