He ignores the lingering stench fully focused on the wonder before him.
Speaking of wonders and miracles, he wills the interface to appear.
Runes unfurl revealing its contents:
[Title gained: The empath]
[Due to great principle and will portrayed, The empath title has been granted.
All your skills and power is enhanced when experiencing great emotion or when defending your principles]
"Huh!" Rain gasps
The irony of it all, wasn't he the cause of the said issue, albeit indirectly?
Meh, any power upgrades are welcomed either way.
And so he opens the interface further, its full view shifts.
Name: Rain
Race: Iksana
Rank: Novice
Saturation: 15%
Soul Fragments: 3/100
Legacy: Embrace of Shadows
Aspect: Shadow manipulation, Domain of Souls[Restricted]
Shades: 0/2
Companion: Kai
Titles: The empath
Insignia: Unshackled
Skills:
Domain of souls[Restricted]
Basic dagger mastery
Greater poison resistance,
[The shadows accept you as their kin]
Only now does he fully examine his status sheet, going through each attribute one by one.
The first three were pretty basic info.
As for the saturation, he reckons its just as stated, his arcane infusion to his body.
A significant rise from its previous 0.4 % to a whooping 15%!
He grins, evolution and advancement to the Adept rank will soon come, once his saturation reaches 50% ...or so he hoped.
Then, his revenge won't be a wishful dream anymore.
His fingers instinctively coil, forming a fist, jaws clenched hard.
"Soon."
As for soul fragments?
The soul remnants of his kills absorbed.
They were four, from four kills as of now, but one was consumed during the formation and binding of his new beast companion, Kai.
As for what will happen when the counter reaches one hundred?
He was uncertain--- all to be found out in due time.
The legacy--- Embrace of shadows.
His gaze scans through it, trying to glean its purpose, but when he sees Shadow Manipulation, it comes to him.
That was the core of his power.
"Shadows, huh."
He whispers, amused.
All this will have to be experimented and tested.
Only then could he be certain.
Next, the Domain of souls, dubbed 'restricted' maybe its connected to the soul fragment counter.
Another means to gain power, or so he hopes.
His gaze settles on 'Shades'.
He racks his mind for answers but gets none, he sighs, shrugging it off.
Then the companion and title--- basic info he already knew.
The mention of an insignia raises his brows.
He focuses on it and lo and behold, a stream of information influxes into his mind.
Apparently, the insignia is, or rather, are beliefs inscribed to one's soul--- a single word bestowed by the voice of Ur to profoundly describe someone.
The skills section was basically self explanatory.
The last remarks serve as proof to his earlier deductions, his core ability being aligned with shadows.
"Fitting." He murmurs stretching his sore muscles as a hungry stomach grumble rouses him from his reverie.
He exhales a weary breath, just realising the passage of time.
Dusk was approaching, and what time was best for shadow experimentation if not dusk.
Get some food while at it.
And so, the hunt begins
****
With the sun shining its last maroon rays, shadows lengthen to their maximum.
A silhouette is seen prowling within the long shadows, muttering something under his breath.
"Heed my call!"
Rain commands, only get an anticlimactic response--- silence.
The shadows did not even stir. Not rejection. Utter indifference.
It wasn't refusal that unsettled him—it was the utter lack of response.
For a moment, he wondered if there was a connection in the first place.
He wipes his brows in frustration, an exasperated exhale slipping from his throat.
He had been at it for hours, nothing seems to work.
And yet, the interface claims that shadows consider him their kindred.
Where's the promised embrace?
Commands, insults, even gentle calls did nothing to stir the unmoving shadows.
Time slipped by unnoticed, marked only by the slow setting of the sun and the growing tightness in his chest.
Each failed attempt scraped at his nerves, a dull irritation turning sharp.
He tried again. And again. The shadows remained inert, as lifeless as stains on the ground.
"Damn you!"
He shouts in exasperation, frustration apparent.
His stomach grumbles, loudly protesting against the mounting hunger.
And so, Rain scans the thicket, looking for his would-be prey, his source of sustenance and nourishment.
He circles around again and again but terribly falling short at catching even a fleeting glimpse on any creature nor beast.
Frustrated, he gives up, heading back for his burrow.
"Tomorrow is also a day." He reasons.
It would be unwise to stay out in the open after dark, not within this trial grounds.
If this jungle harbours treants, he couldn't fathom what other grotesque horrors called it 'home'.
Nor was he sticking around to find out.
Crack!
A twig snaps within the underbush, drawing his full attention--- daggers gleaming against the last rays of sunlight as he steadies, ready to defend or bolt at a moment's notice.
There!
His eyes catch a fleeting glimpse of a silhouette, a grey rabbit judging from its outline and mannerism.
His presence gets instinctively suppressed, his steps so silent you would think he was gliding inches above the foliage.
All sounds get muted, only him and his prey remaining.
He prowls, drawing closer.
Shik!
His fingers flick, sending the dagger cutting through the air as its trajectory arc towards the oblivious rabbit.
Squeek!
The rabbit hollers, its figure pinned to the ground as it thrashes and struggles to break free.
Rain burst into a leap, sending his clutched dagger through the rabbit's head.
Its squirms halting as skull cracks sending brain matter flying into the air.
One moment Rain was stabbing through its head, the next?
Sickening rips of flesh rent the air as Rain tears through its soft fur, sinking his bare fingers and ripping it clean off.
His maw gnaws on its raw flesh, stripping meat from bone, his chin, neck and fingers slick with warm blood.
Rain loses himself in the clutches of all consuming hunger, audible munching serving as a cue to his macabre feeding ritual.
It is after he has his fill that his senses return, bringing forth a semblance of decorum.
He quickly wipes the crimson smudges off his mouth, as if embarrassed by his actions.
Blame hunger.
Only then that he discovers a floating notification.
[Skill learnt: stealth]
[Suppresses your presence to barely a whisper, a prerequisite for successful prowling.]
"Ahh,"
He mutters in realisation.
So the ideal approach is going with the flow of it, let instincts reign free.
A profound lesson indeed.