Zalanir’s eyes shot open. His breath came in pants. His right arm jolted up. Still there. He clicked his legs. Also there. Pressing his hand on his heart, he forced his body to take it easy, breath by breath. Slowly, his heart returned to its normal rhythm. During this time, he also alternated long exhales through his nose and his mouth, hoping to speed up the process.

  Seeing his body blow off was an experience that he never wanted to go over ever again. Even though it wasn’t him, but clarity, regrets, dreams, everything somehow found their own moment to run through his mind in that instance. He did really think he was gone. Death.

  And that face. He didn’t think he would forget that face. Even when his eyes wide open right now, he could still see it clearly right there. There was no need for any darkness or re-imagination.

  He forced himself to stand up, did some stretches, and breathed a sigh of relief that everything was indeed okay.

  Though he didn’t recognize the surroundings. He was in a small alcove, with the entrance filled with dancing light and the greenery of trees. The condition was rather dry and hot, reminding him of some tennis sessions in the afternoon under the sun. Those were the worst ones, always emptied his battery so fast.

  He took off the hauberk, and every fiber of his upper body instantly screamed in joy. All hailed the wind.

  There was a brown staff leaning against the wall to his right. Its length was about a tennis racket, a vibrant emerald crystal rested firmly at the top. Zalanir took a 360-turn, but there was no sight that told him of the trace of any other person, so he just took the staff himself and used Identify on it.

  [Hurukele of the Storm] — Rare: Through unusual means, this staff comes to life when a hurukele perches on a branch and awaits its time. As a favorite daughter of Mother Nature, the hurukele wished for the wind to always be by its side. Weapon damage has minor scaling with Strength and Intelligence, and tiny scaling with Dexterity and Mystique. Grants the [Hurukele Whirlwind] skill.

  [Hurukele Whirlwind] — Rare: Calls upon the friendly whirlwind (medium scaling with Spirit) that damages and pulls everything toward its center (major scaling with Mystique and medium scaling with Intelligence). Grows and expires after a duration (minor scaling with Level).

  Essence: 0

  Mana cost: Very high

  Zalanir couldn’t believe what he had just read and remained speechless for a moment. A random staff laying there was a rare weapon? And a skill on top of it that allows him to conjure a freaking whirlwind? He swirled around again just to make sure that he was indeed alone in this alcove.

  Ten seconds. Nothing was happening. He immediately grabbed and registered it with a mental command, and after two seconds cast the skill.

  The emerald gem started to glow at that very instance. The shade of a three-legged bird flew left and right inside it. With the staff at the center, winds began to blow and circle around and downward. The muggy, hot sensation eased right after.

  Though the wind’s intensity grew by the second and quickly reached a violent state only three seconds in. Its shape became more visible as a swirling vortex. Trees and flowers started to uproot, rocks were blown into the air, and dirt flew around like a mini sandstorm.

  “No, no, no, no.” Zalanir snapped from his amazement, grabbed the hauberk on the floor, and dashed toward the entrance. By the skin of his teeth, he jumped out at the last second before the alcove collapsed. He didn’t get to choose his landing spot and his posture, so he ended up knocking his head onto a big trunk.

  Took a little while for him to stabilize himself from daze and disorientation. Then, Zalanir laughed out loud, thanking his ancestors and whoever had blessed him. A mental note to himself: playing in a narrow space was dangerous!

  He grinned from ear to ear. Now that was what it meant to be a mage. He had just created a fucking whirlwind.

  Kicking the tree for bonking his head, Zalanir sat down and rested. A scan to the top right of his viewport showed his mana pool hovering around 75%, which meant the Hurukele Whirlwind skill used a quarter of his mana resources in that one move. So this wasn’t a spammable skill like Adaptability Bolt.

  In an attempt to verify it, while carefully eyeing an escape route already, Zalanir summoned the whirlwind again, but nothing happened. A nudge in his mind from who-knows-who suggested to him that there was a cooling period before he would be able to cast the spell again. Guessed that was clear. No stacking multiple whirlwinds for the fun.

  Zalanir replayed the situation. The skill leaned more toward a maelstrom rather than a tornado. Its size was quite good, expanding horizontally and encompassing the whole alcove at the end, which meant about fifteen meters in its radius. Based on the wording, its size scaled with Spirit, which was his third-highest stat, so it was good. In fact, all the scaling synced well with what he specialized in. What a good weapon! He wished whoever or whatever left the staff here the very best of luck in everything.

  Zalanir took five steps toward a tree with orange rounded leaves, but stopped and slapped his forehead. He had been too fascinated with the new weapon that he forgot about what he had just been through. The butterfly! Opening the Notification tab, he was unsure how to interpret what showed up on the screen.

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  You have consumed [Fragmentary Vessel of Remnant of Defiance]

  You have gained [Soul Collection]

  You have gained [Creeping Despair]

  [Soul Collection] — Universal unique: Grants the ability to mend and preserve souls with your energy, and allows you to become their expression. Grants the [Lantern of Verizss’ia] skill.

  Essence — Bound: 60

  Mana cost: None

  [Lantern of Verizss’ia] — Universal unique: Allows you to capture and store souls inside a replica of the Lantern of Verizss’ia, one of the finest and never-seen-before creations in the universe.

  Essence: 0

  Mana cost: None

  [Creeping Despair] — Epic: Forcefully absorbing a Remnant of Defiance is nothing but a foolish act. The experience haunts the deepest part of your soul, stamping you with a cachet of its kind. Future encounters become a lot more unpredictable.

  So he had consumed something that he wasn’t supposed to. Not like he had any say in this matter. He was a victim, through and through.

  Sometimes, the names themselves alone could tell the whole story. Based on the name of the butterfly, the description of Soul Collection and its associated skill of Lantern of Verizss’ia, he now knew that he had just witnessed the life of Verizss’ia, or the parts related to the lantern. How the man found his partner to help him forge the item, used the item, and then died in the end because of that very item. It appeared that the System even rated the lantern higher than the man himself, calling it one of the best items in the universe and naming a skill after it.

  A fair assessment, in his opinion. The lantern was just too powerful in empowering all the weapons and turned Verizss’ia into basically a one-man army. The ambushers only won because they managed to disable these weapons using those red-aura spheres, and the fact that Verizss’ia didn’t see the attack incoming beforehand. He was just a happy man on his way to see his bud Sinclair again, after all.

  Remnant of Defiance. Was it named after Verizss’ia’s final suicide attack? Maybe that was the reason Zalanir experienced the last scene from a first person point of view. The butterfly wanted him to see how its prior self ended. The fact that the final moment was zooming into the face of the hooded man might’ve suggested that it wanted revenge.

  Yes, of course it would want that. The life of a talented smith just ended like that all of a sudden. Of course it would want to resist by leaving those pieces of memories and the skill to someone to carry on its legacy. But why him? Was it under suppression or being held hostage unwillingly by that old man, and that Zalanir just happened to be the only one it could find in proximity? No, that would be too short-sighted. Djaxinz was just a couple of steps away there at that moment as well.

  Ugh! What have I got myself into? Those are gods. I am but a D-grade who just got here more than a month ago! Oh, right, how long has it been since I fainted? Zalanir rubbed and scratched his hair.

  If his interpretation of what happened was correct, and if he were strong enough, then maybe he would help out. Verizss’ia didn’t seem like a bad person, so it wasn’t like he assisted a criminal or something. But this wasn’t what he could think about right now. It was the skills that needed his attention.

  First of all, it was a skill that granted him another skill, which then gave him an item. What an overloaded concept. Wait? Where was the lantern? Zalanir activated the skill, but nothing happened. His vision of seeing a lantern popped up in front of him — just like what Verizss’ia did — didn’t come true. However, he could vaguely feel its presence somewhere inside his mind. It was a similar feeling to when he woke up the next morning trying to recreate the last dream. It was there, but just wasn’t accessible.

  The description of the skill told him that he could now capture souls and take care of them. Souls! Was he a gravedigger now? Instead of digging for buried items, now he looked for the death’s souls? Sounded really creepy, but also kind of cool.

  Imagining he went around having a ghost army that could attack the enemies without them even realizing it. And not just a cemetery. Verizss’ia had hunted down the two ants just to capture their souls. Yeah, just needed to kill a creature and catch their soul. Simple enough. The part about being their expression sounded spooky, because it read like him having them possessed his body. He definitely didn’t want that, so that part would need to be forgotten.

  There were also the issue with essence cost and how it said “bound”. He hadn’t really paid attention to all the essence stuff. He had 320 to begin with, and with Adaptability Bolt, Energy Barrier, and Sound Sense, he had just used up 30 in total, not even one-tenth of his entire bar. With the rate of gaining a new skill every ten levels, it would take forever before it was filled.

  But now, this Soul Collection skill came up and demanded 60 essence! What the heck? Even worse, a quick test told him that he couldn’t unequip this skill from his skill arsenal, so the keyword bound did literally mean what it meant. Just like that, one-fifth of his essence bar was gone. You better be a godlike skill!

  And that wasn’t even all there were about this overloaded skill. The affix universal unique also stood out. Pure Magical Energy had racial uniqueness, which he assumed only belonged to humans. Did it mean that he was the only one in this entire universe with this skill? After thinking about it, it did make sense though, because this skill essentially revolved around the lantern. And not just any lantern, but the lantern that was created by Verizss’ia himself. It made sense, being the way it was. However, thinking about this point made him feel less special about his imaginative status of a chosen-one. The skill was unique because of the lantern, not because of him.

  Enough with the skill, he turned his focus onto the last notification: a status effect called Creeping Despair. It stayed right under his virtual avatar on the General tab. The description didn’t bring him any joy. It sounded rather ominous with all the stuff regarding cachet and uncertainty about the future. Did he just get marked or something? By who? Or maybe, by what? The word unpredictable sounded like an admonition or forewarning more than anything. This effect also once again mentioned the soul. Seemed like the butterfly did really push him in this direction, with both positivity and negativity. And the worst of all, it didn’t even display any duration, which likely meant that he was now stuck with a gloomy permanent effect. He needed to find a way to cure this, if he could.

  Which pointed him to a big question: where?