Too Stubborn to Die

Stepping into the trial, he saw them. They were the threads of fate, diverging from the shadow before him. Hundreds of paths the shadow could take every second. Some were barely distinguishable from one another, whilst others moved in entirely different directions.

This was it what he needed to master if he wanted to be able to keep pace and predict this superior foe.

His first few attempts at the trial went just about as well as he could have expected. The shadow’s insultingly large power gap meant that it didn’t even bother trying to land killing blows. While this was insulting, it did allow Aaron to train against the shadow for longer before dying.

Immediately, he got to work attempting to read fate and make it work for him. He entered with a combo, one that was different from any of the threads present, and as expected, fate was altered, and new threads formed.

It was a subtle art to get fate to change exactly how he wanted it to, but he could see the shadow’s future reacting, and every time he did, he got a little better at predicting how his alterations to fate would affect it.

Yendal the Empty Handed was quite the combatant, and following the natural rhythm of the fight, always seemed to send it exactly where the shadow wanted it to go. Luckily for Aaron, he had no intention of allowing fate to follow the path it intended.

Gradually, he worked the shadow to where he wanted it, half focused on the fight, and half on fate. Seeing several seconds ahead, he was forced to mix things up as fate kept weaving away from his goal and back toward where it wanted to be, but finally, he did it; a thread appeared where he wanted it to.

It was vulnerable.

Yendal was right where he needed it, and Aaron’s fist flew forth to strike the shadow. But inches before he landed, the threads shook violently, and a hand flashed toward him so fast he barely caught the blur of it.

Gasping, Aaron awoke in the hallway. The attack had finished him instantly, but more importantly, or perhaps annoyingly, he had barely seen it. And his fate-seeing trait had betrayed him.

What good was seeing fate if it could be tricked? He wondered. If he could be lulled into a false sense of security and struck down, it might actually be a net negative.

That can’t be, can it?

It was an alpha trait, and Douglas could hardly believe it when he had told him about the trait. Surely something so special couldn’t be bested so easily, could it?

No, that wasn’t right. Aaron could feel it in his gut. There was more to it. He’d just missed it.

Fine, you want to play hardball? Bring it on!

He already had the foundations laid. His trait worked more or less as he expected. As long as he read it correctly, he could push fate toward the direction of his choosing.

Now, he just needed to figure out what was with that damn attack. Why hadn’t he seen it in the threads of fate? Its speed was a problem too, but that was likely a gap too far to bridge right now. However, that might not matter, as long as he could see the attack ahead of time.

Restarting the trial, he got to work.

It took ten deaths before he managed to see anything. Every time he managed to read fate and lure the shadow towards one of his strikes, it came. There was nothing overly special about it, he realized. This was simply a real punch thrown by the shadow, not one of the toying insults it had thrown earlier.

But most importantly, he saw the erratic way in which fate began to act before the strike was made. Reading the future was one thing, but it didn’t stop his opponents from altering their own. After all, Aaron wasn’t dictating the future; he was simply using his glimpses into it to make minor alterations and, therefore, change its outcome. And just as he could do that, so could those he fought against react to his movements.

But his trait gave him a warning. Paying close attention to how the threads shimmered, he continued to fight. It was no easy feat. Following the threads themselves was challenge enough.

There were hundreds of possible futures shooting out in every direction. Furthermore, the threads were in constant flux, changing with every second and every movement. All of which got that much harder as Aaron defied fate and formed new threads with his actions.

The strike came again. Flashing through his defenses in an instant. This continued eight more times as he trained his focus on fate.

Aaron’s thoughts trailed back to his fight with the mage. He hadn’t just beaten the spellcaster through prediction alone. The speed gap had forced him to memorize attack patterns and dodge before the mage had even done anything, and he realized he would need to employ something similar against Yendal.

However, this was different. There was undoubtedly a speed gap, but for the most part, the shadow didn’t outpace him. Not until that strike came. It didn’t matter if he could predict the shadow; if he couldn’t dodge that stupidly fast punch when it came.

There was another problem with predicting the punch. Unlike the mage, Yendal had no obvious tells. There were no flexing muscles or power spikes that would tell him that the attack was coming. The shadow simply threw the punch out with zero effort. The only tells he could rely upon were those given to him by his Fate Bender trait.

And so that’s what he did. Deaths followed as Aaron practiced dodging the moment fate began to shimmer erratically, and after just four deaths, he dodged early enough that he was already moving when the strike shot out, and managed to avoid it.

However, his achievement was overshadowed by the task ahead of him. He needed to land a strike, not just avoid Yendal’s.

But hope was far from lost. Reading and predicting the threads of fate was what would allow him to keep up with the shadow and land a blow. While dodging back the moment fate became unruly, would allow him to survive the shadow’s counters.

Now he just had to weave them together.

A new goal formed at the center of his mind as the battle swung back and forth. He was going to lay a hand on the annoyingly elusive shadow.

But having a plan didn’t make an enemy like Yendal’s shadow a pushover. The closer he got to hitting the shadow, the more it upped its ante. The shadow had been holding back the entire time, and it had plenty of room to push the pace and punish Aaron anytime he got close.

But he had the ability to see the freaking future, and he didn’t have that Trait for no reason. It was a testament to his spirit and unbreakable nature, and he was going to land a fist on its smug face if it was the last thing he did.

The harder the shadow made the fight for him, the more determined he was to wipe the imaginary smirk from its featureless face.

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Fate be damned.

The deadly dance between the two combatants continued, Aaron getting his ass handed to him every way imaginable. But his improvements were undeniable. At first, he only managed to dodge a couple of real strikes before Yendal managed to land. Two dozen deaths later, he was dodging fifteen strikes in a row as he carefully lined the shadow up.

He couldn’t get impatient. Yendal’s counters were perfect, and if he sloppily attempted to land, the shadow would use it as an opportunity to finish him.

Many times, he thought his goal was within reach. A punch or a kick was within an inch of landing, only for the shadow to either pull a dodge out of its ass or counter and kill him.

But as his deaths dragged on, these last-second corrections became clearer as well. And then he saw it. Unrealized fate. Partially transparent threads that were unrealized thoughts. Pathways fate might take if it were changed.

It was mind-bogglingly difficult to focus on. Fate was already so difficult to follow, and this turned the dial up a thousand times. In fact, it was so confusing that the next few deaths ended very quickly as Aaron struggled not to lose focus.

Aaron had to simultaneously concentrate on a battle that was moving faster than any normal human could move, whilst keeping an eye on the threads of fate and predicting where the shadow would be, based on where they went. And on top of all that, he had to pipe it into his own moves. It was a sensory overload, and now he had just added another layer on top of it. Nonetheless, he was dead set on mastering it, so he kept going, regardless of how many times he was burned to death in the inferno beneath the colosseum or had his chest punched out by a lightning-fast strike.

But over the next couple of deaths, he realized that he didn’t need to focus on everything. In fact, drowning out the noise was just as important as reading fate.

Narrowing in on his objective, he saw it. The unrealized thread of fate is several seconds ahead. He had worked Yendal into position through a countless stream of feints, and the shadow would throw its lightning-fast attack when he went for the kill. But now, he didn’t need to dive away just to survive.

Picking the perfect route of attack, he unleashed his combination, and as expected, the return strike came blindingly fast, but Aaron wasn’t where he was supposed to be. He could feel the wind of the strike blow past him. It had missed by nothing, glancing across his body, but he could feel the electrifying residual energy from the blow transfer into him, and he had dodged it well enough to survive.

And as his muscles began to spasm and contract against the tiny amount of energy that had transferred into him, Aaron landed.

His punch was weak, landing against the shadow’s unguarded chest, but it had landed, and a brimming smile crept across Aaron’s face. He had done it. He had read fate, and he had defied its outcome to land a strike against the formidable shadow.

The moment the shadow was hit, Yendal shot out of range in a fraction of a second and glanced down at its own shadowy chest. Then it looked up at Aaron, nodded, slammed a fist into its palm, and bowed.

“Ahh?” Aaron’s face scrunched up, and he fell to his knees as pain from the glancing blow reverberated through him.

Chain Quest: The Shadow Trials

Stage two of [ Trial of the Challenger ] COMPLETED!

You have tested yourself in one-on-one combat against a weakened shadow avatar of a god and have emerged victorious.

Quest Rewards: Soot Goblin [ Rare ], Dining Hall upgraded to level 2.

Experience rewarded for completing a quest stage!

Ding!

[ Brawler ] has LEVELED UP!

14 → 15

“Wait, I didn’t need to beat you?” Aaron groaned, feeling a little cheated. But he didn’t get an answer, and the shadow dissipated. A moment later, he appeared in the obsidian hallway, blinking puzzledly. “Wait, what just happened? And what the hell is a soot goblin?”

His second question would be answered in less than a second, when a fist-sized ball of soot appeared before his eyes and sprang legs and arms.

“What the…”

“Oi, bossman! Guessing you’re me new owner. Let me introduce meself, I’m ye soot goblin—at ye service.”

“You talk?!”

“Don’t you? A little rude, ain’t ye?” The ball of soot crossed its arms. “Ye got a superiority complex like most fleshies. Figures.”

“No, I mean, sorry. It’s just that I don’t meet living balls of soot very often.”

“You know that’s kind of racist where I’m from, right? I’m a soot goblin, no need to call me names.”

“Names? I didn’t call you a name. It’s what the System—”

“Balls? You wanna be called balls, humy? Oi, Mr. Balls, how can I help ye?”

“Wait, I didn’t call you Mr. Balls! Or even balls. I was just pointing out that you’re round.”

“I’m round now, am I? Ever heard of body positivity?”

“Well, I mean. Dammit, sorry. I’m not trying to be rude, really. I’m just confused. I don’t really get the point of you.”

“Ye don’t mean to be rude? Are you serious? What’s the point of you, big fella?”

Aaron thought about that for a second and realized how that came out. Yeah, that was kind of rude, wasn’t it?

“Sorry, let me start again. You’re like an item or something–”

The soot goblin shot a judging glare.

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I won you in a quest. You even came with a rarity. Am I off? Surely you’re getting what I’m putting down, aren’t you?”

“Humans, ye all the same. I’m a helper, alright. The System conjures us up as rewards. And aye, it is as insulting as it sounds.”

“So, you do work for me?”

“Aye, humy! What did I just say? Or ain’t the words of a little soot goblin good enough for ye?”

“Okay, no need to be touchy. I’m just trying to figure out how this all works. That’s all.”

“What’s to understand? I’m a helper. I can do mundane things for you. Collect items, make a campfire, things like that. Even a leprechaun dance, if ye so desire.”

“That won’t be necessary. But the rest of it actually sounds pretty handy. So, if I understand correctly, you’re like my servant?”

“Yeah, one that doesn’t get paid,” the goblin rolled its eyes.

“Oh, that’s kind of problematic, isn’t it?”

“It’s fine. I’m jerking ye. I’m paid via your energy. It’s what I feed on. But it’s only a little bit. As long as you remain fed and rested, you won’t even notice me, like a symbiotic relationship.”

“Okay, that’s a little creepy. But at least you’re getting something out of it. I wouldn’t want to be accused of- you know…”

“Worry less, humy. The multiverse doesn’t care for your ethics. Ye’ll see far worse than this. At least I’m gettin’ something out of it. So, what now, bossman? Got any work?”

“Umm, I’ve got a few things that need doing.”

“Like?” The fuzzy sootball craned forward.

“Well, I’ve got a Skill to purchase and a Dining Room upgrade to check.”

“Well, alright. Why don’t we go check out that room? You can babble about ye skill options all the while. I’m a good listener.”

I am… not sure what’s going on.

Aaron didn’t have a problem with the magical little goblin or anything. And if he was being completely honest, he did sound kind of helpful, especially when he left this place. But was the little goblin just going to follow him around and go everywhere he did? Also, was he wrong to call it an item? Or was it just pulling his chain? After all, Sooty had himself explained that he was a magical creature created by the System, not born or bred like most, if Aaron understood correctly.

Wait, Sooty? Had he just subconsciously named this creature? Since when had he even accepted the little, furry traveling companion? Then again, there was a whole multiverse out there that he had yet to explore. Maybe he would grow to appreciate his little helper?

“Oi, bossman,” Sooty waved across Aaron’s blank expression. “Ye all there?”

“Yeah,” Aaron shook himself awake.

“We’re here, in the dining room. Ye normally blank out like that?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I’m just thinking.”

“Jeez. Fifty thousand years stuck in the void, and I get out just to be stuck with a daydreamer. Talk about luck. So, anyway, what about those Skills, humy? Got anything good?”

“Wait, what did you say about a void?”

“Oh, the System void? You’re newly integrated, aren’t you? It wouldn’t make sense, not yet at least. I’ll save that one for down the road.”

Aaron raised a curious brow but let it go. The multiverse confused him enough as it was, and if Sooty was telling him he wouldn’t understand, then he believed the little soot ball.

“Fine. I guess it’s Skill picking time,” Aaron rubbed his hands and brought up his status page.