After the talk with Tom, I went back to the others. We took our time after eating to go and wash ourselves the best we could. Unfortunately, we didn’t bring changes of clothes; none of us expected the tutorial to take months to complete. Some people washed their clothes and left them to dry on branches or near the fire, but for now I was fine with a little odour; I had more important things to deal with.

  I spent some time helping people here and there, recounting our adventure and getting shown where we could sleep and take care of our needs.

  In the meantime I was thinking of which skill to choose and where to assign all my points. Should I double down on a stat in particular or shore up weaknesses? Honestly, I never was much into video games, even when I was younger, but I had an expert here, so I went and sat around the fire near the river with Quinn, Rhea, and another young girl the kid was clearly trying to flirt with and failing spectacularly at that.

  The river murmured nearby, steady and indifferent. I observed the interaction for a second.

  “So yeah,” Quinn said, voice a little too loud, “when the System brought us here I basically figured out the meta immediately. Like, everyone else was panicking, right? But I knew. You have to optimise early, or you fall behind forever.”

  The girl nodded once. “Mm.”

  Rhea sat on the other side of the fire, hugging her knees, staring very intently at the flames, like if she looked away the situation might get worse.

  Quinn ploughed on. “Back home I played a tonne of games like this. RPGs, strategy, survival. This is basically the same thing, just, you know, higher stakes.” He laughed at his own joke. “I’m already level 21. That’s pretty fast, all things considered.”

  “Congrats,” the girl said. She didn’t look up.

  Encouraged by… something, Quinn leant forward. “Yeah, and my build is coming along great. I’m going agility-based with sneaks. Super efficient. Once I get my next skill, it’s going to be insane.”

  Rhea winced.

  The girl finally glanced at Quinn, eyes flat, assessing. “Do you… need the fire for something?”

  Quinn blinked. “Uh. No?”

  “Ok…” she said; her hope of her hint working died right there.

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. The poor kid was getting dismantled, so I decided to intervene before Quinn destroyed any chance he had.

  I leant forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Mind if I join?”

  The girl shrugged. “One more or less doesn’t make a difference.”

  “That depends on the circumstances,” I said lightly. I turned my attention to her first. “Are you doing alright? Yesterday was rough on everyone.”

  That got a real response. She met my eyes this time. “Mm, at least tonight we have fire and food.”

  “Strong indicators of improvement,” I agreed.

  Rhea shot me a grateful look.

  Quinn opened his mouth, clearly about to reclaim the spotlight, so I cut in smoothly. “Actually, I came to talk to you, kid, you know… Quinn here is underselling himself.”

  He straightened instantly. “I am?”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, dead serious. “You're one of the best fighters here. For sure the fastest.”

  The girl raised an eyebrow. “Really.”

  “He actually is,” I continued, “and I came here for your input. I’ve got decisions to make. Skills, stat allocation, class synergies. And like you were saying, if you messed it up at the beginning, it created trouble later on.”

  I turned to Quinn fully now. “So, I’ve got multiple options in front of me, and I don’t want to pick something flashy and regret it later. If you were me, what would you prioritise?”

  Quinn forgot the girl existed in under a second.

  “Oh! Okay, yeah, this is important,” he said, scooting closer to the fire and gesturing animatedly. “So first thing, you don’t chase raw power. Not with your kit. You’re already winning fights way above your level because of debuffs, no? That means duration, spread, efficiency.”

  Rhea relaxed visibly.

  The girl watched Quinn now, not exactly impressed, but interested. “So… like poison that lasts longer?”

  “Exactly!” Quinn snapped his fingers. “But you don’t want to just hurt them; you want to make every fight unfair. If there’s a skill that makes your hexes stick longer, or jump targets, or stack? That’s gold.”

  I nodded slowly. “What about non-hex skills?”

  “Still important,” he said. “Mana efficiency, casting speed, battlefield awareness. But those come second. Your class wants you to win before the enemy realises they’re losing.”

  I felt something click into place. Not just mechanically, but conceptually. He was right. I hadn’t beaten the Gorg chieftain with power; it took me a dozen bullets just to crack open its skull. I’d beaten it by dragging it down into the mud and letting it drown there, not with hexes though, with curses. But I was sure to be able to repeat the feat without cursing the hell out of myself next time.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  I smiled. “That’s exactly the kind of answer I needed.”

  Quinn beamed.

  The girl looked between us, then back at Quinn. “So you’re not just talking to hear yourself talk.”

  He hesitated. “What! No! I mean. Sometimes.”

  She snorted quietly, the corner of her mouth twitching despite herself.

  Rhea hid her smile behind her hand.

  I put another branch into the fire, watching sparks spiral upward and vanish into the night. “Alright,” I said, shifting the topic while Quinn was still in strategist mode. “Skills aside, I’ve got a bigger problem, stat points.”

  Quinn’s eyes lit up again. Of course they did.

  “I’m sitting heavy on willpower,” I continued. “Intelligence after that, wisdom third. The constitution is… not great. Everything else is more or less balanced.” I grimaced. “Which means I’m one bad hit away from becoming a cautionary tale.”

  Rhea tilted her head. “Didn’t you take a kick from that giant gorg without dying?”

  “I have enhanced stats thanks to my achievements,” I said. “And Mary still had to patch me up.”

  Mary, who was a little ways off talking to someone else, sneezed like the universe had heard me.

  Quinn rubbed his chin, suddenly thoughtful. “Okay, so. We don’t know everything. Not even close. But some stuff is pretty obvious.”

  “Such as?” I asked.

  “Well,” he said, ticking fingers. “Strength hits harder. Agility moves faster. Constitution means you don’t fold like wet cardboard. Intelligence makes spells stronger. Wisdom helps with control and efficiency. And willpower…” He hesitated, then looked at me. “Willpower could mean many things.”

  I nodded. “Willpower feels different than others when it goes up.”

  The young girl across the fire spoke up, her voice tentative but curious. “Different how?”

  I took a moment before answering. “When I use my spells on something, it feels like a contest. Both of mana, and of intent. Like I’m pushing my will into them and daring theirs to break first.”

  Quinn snapped his fingers. “Yes! Exactly that, willpower isn’t the fuel; it’s the weight.”

  Rhea frowned slightly. “So more willpower means your curses stick better?”

  “Or go deeper,” I said. “Or ignore resistance. Or all of the above, I don’t really know.”

  Quinn chuckled. “Man, I wish we had patch notes.”

  I went on, thinking out loud now. “Intelligence makes the spell hit harder. Bigger numbers. Wisdom keeps things stable. Less waste, more finesse, probably had to do with the amount of mana too. But Willpower…” I shook my head. “Willpower decides whether the enemy gets a say.”

  The girl hugged her knees closer. “That’s… kind of scary.”

  “Effective, though,” Quinn said quickly. “Hexers by definition aren’t supposed to play fair. Like assassins, we possess different strengths; however, both classes are considered evil. One can end a fight before being seen, while the other can incapacitate an enemy with a single strike, just as you did with the gorg. Still, our weaknesses are there too.”

  “Which brings me to the problem,” I said. “Do I double down on willpower and become unbearable to fight? Or do I patch up my constitution so I don’t die when someone sneezes in my direction?”

  Rhea didn’t hesitate. “You should fix your weaknesses.”

  Quinn made a face. “Ehh. Maybe a little. But if you spread too thin, you stop being special.”

  “That’s my fear,” I admitted. “If I shore everything up, I become mediocre at a lot of things. But if I focus too hard, I become fragile.”

  The girl looked at me thoughtfully. “Can’t you do both? Just… not equally?”

  Quinn blinked, then slowly nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s actually it.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Go on, oh wise one.”

  “Okay,” he said, warming to it. “Think of it like thresholds. You don’t need high Constitution. You need enough Constitution. Enough to survive one mistake. Past that, returns might not matter as much for you.”

  Rhea nodded. “So he stops being one hit from dying.”

  “Exactly,” Quinn said. “Then everything else goes into willpower first. Intelligence second. Wisdom third. You lean into what your class wants, but you don’t leave obvious holes.”

  I let the idea settle. It felt… right. Not safe, but it sounded like a possible solution.

  “And Strength?” the girl asked.

  I regarded her. “I’m not supposed to fight melee. I can do it, considering that I am six times stronger than before, but making my spells stronger is more important than ego lifting.”

  Quinn grinned. “See? He gets it.”

  I exhaled slowly, tension easing from my shoulders. “Alright. A floor for Constitution. Everything else feeds the curse engine.”

  The fire crackled in agreement, or maybe that was just my imagination.

  Either way, I opened up the class skills selection and told Quinn my options.

  His pupils dilated like I’d just given him forbidden knowledge.

  “…Oh. “Oh, that’s nasty,” he breathed.

  “What do you mean?” Rhea asked.

  He jabbed a finger at her. “Hex Echo is pure value. That’s a chain reaction spell. You hex one thing, hit it, and suddenly the whole enemy group is coughing up blood. That’s how you snowball packs.”

  Then he slid his finger down. “Black Veil is defence. Really good defence. Stealth-adjacent, anti-caster, anti-seeking spells, anti-everything-that-needs-eyes. If you were solo a lot, or squishy… actually you are squishy, never mind.”

  Rhea cleared her throat. “That sounds important.”

  “Yeah, but listen,” Quinn said quickly, already moving on. “Drain the Accursed though? That’s sustain, pure lifesteal. That’s you healing yourself without the use of slow-as-fuck potions, or if our healer is out of mana. Not only that, you curse them, they hurt, and you juice your next spell. That’s momentum.”

  I nodded slowly, already feeling the shape of it in my head.

  Hex Echo was tempting. Beautiful, even. The idea of my curses hopping from body to body like a whispered plague had a certain appeal to it.

  Black Veil was safety. Control. A way to not die when something noticed me.

  But Drain the Accursed…

  I thought back to the cave. To my ribs screaming, my mana running thin, my curses trying to eat me alive. I didn’t need more spread. I needed to get back on my feet. A way to stay standing when fights dragged on.

  “I can cast hexes already, maybe not on a swarm of enemies, but I can cast multiple hexes,” I said quietly. “I have a barrier to defend myself with; what I can’t do… is heal myself when I need it.”

  Quinn grinned, sharp and approving. “Say it.”

  I selected the skill.

  A subtle warmth bloomed in my chest, not like the plum, but darker. Heavier. Like a slow syphon had been connected somewhere deep inside me.

  I flexed my fingers, feeling mana shift in response.

  “Yeah,” I murmured. “This one will do nicely.”

  Quinn leant back, satisfied. “Good pick. Real hexer pick.”

  “There is a problem, though.”

  “What?” He asked.

  “I need to touch the enemy to drain it.” I told him.

  “Ah shit… that’ll complicate things.”

  Figures.

  20 chapters ahead!