L.E. Miranda
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SSR - Chapter 43: Build-up (7)
🕑 Added 2025-01-04 22:45:53 +0000 UTCRylan’s next two days were spent training with Gerard and familiarizing himself with more spells and Skills. It was now the fourth day.
The ground shook. Rylan stared at the shambling three-meter-tall troll sprinting towards him. The grass and shrubbery were crushed as every step upturned the ground. Leaves fell from the trees, drifting in the air. The monster’s roar seemed to shake the very atmosphere. From behind a tree, another, smaller troll appeared.
He shot forward towards the nearest troll with Drifting. The moment he got within range, the monster swiped at him. He tilted his body as he slid on the ground, letting the attack almost barely graze his clothes. The dodge smoothly transitioned into a stab that dug into the monster’s thigh. He spun in place, pulling out the blade and slashing. Drifting allowed him to circle the monster as it attempted to grab him, hewing the back of its knees. Blood flowed.
The blade’s going in deeper than before.
The ground continued to shake. He stepped back, capturing his surroundings in a flash. The second troll was within ten meters of him. It was a distance that it could cross very quickly because of its size. The first troll tried to grab him. He watched the claws grasping at him with a clear head. He ducked, stepping between the creature’s legs. The grab missed him completely, but the troll quickly extended its arms once more.
Rylan jumped as the second troll arrived. Using Floating, he lightly landed on the first troll’s shoulder. Unhesitatingly, an attack flowed. The blade sunk into the troll’s right eye, making it roar in pain. He pulled out the blade, tearing apart what remained of the eye, then used the troll’s back as support to jump toward the ground, instead of going up. The second troll tried to go around the first one and reach him, but he touched the ground before that. The moment he did, he used Drifting to back off.
The second troll immediately continued its dogged pursuit, leaving behind the first one. Rylan continuously led it away from the soldiers but also remained close enough that he would be able to react if the first troll decided to aim for them. The first troll continued to roar while shaking its head and covering its face with its hands.
Now.
The distance between the trolls was now large enough. The second troll lowered its body and swiped at him using both of its hands, but Rylan was faster. He shot to the side, sliding under the swipe, then immediately slashed the creature’s lower body, creating a bloody gash. It tried to grab him, but he kept running circles around it, attacking at every opening. In this wild dance, wounds quickly accumulated on the second troll’s lower body. Its blood fell on the blades of grass, leaking a bit of lifeforce with every second. Sliced muscles and flesh hindered the troll’s movements. Just like the previous time he faced trolls, he kept aiming for the injuries, deepening and widening them, instead of trying to create more of them.
A roar cut through the air. The ground shook. He didn’t need to turn around to know that the first troll had recovered and was now coming for him. Instead of retreating, he continued to slash and stab away at the troll’s legs. Finally, the moment he had been waiting for arrived. Just as the first troll was about to reach him with a roar, the second one’s lower body faltered. Its head lowered, getting closer to him. It was all he needed.
In an instant, his blade slashed the troll’s eyes, completely blinding it. A gush of blood nearly hit him in the face, but he had predicted it. Sclera and iris mixed as the eyes were destroyed. Just like the first one, it covered its face with its hands, keeping the blood from hitting him. Instead of delivering another attack or staying to see the effects of his slash, he immediately lowered his center of gravity and jumped backward.
His figure went right between the first troll’s legs as it was about to grab him. Not missing this chance, he stabbed the back of its knees. As the troll turned around, he jumped, using the creature’s thighs and waist as a foothold.
Falling Snow Steps: Floating.
He reached the creature’s eye level and sunk his blade into its intact eye. Barely a second later, he pulled it out and used the monster’s chest to jump away. It was the moment when the battle was decided.
Both trolls were now blind. The threat they posed had decreased considerably. He ran toward the trolls as they spun in place, as if trying to see their surroundings.
Stormcaller Sword Style, First Movement: Thunderbolt.
His mana roared within him, circulating as fast as it could as his Circle revolved. His body sped up as if it were flowing with a lightning bolt. It was as if he were an arrow that was just released by the bowstring as his muscles reached their peak. At blinding speed, he shot forward. His thrust buried itself in the throat of the closest troll, crushing through its hide and splitting its windpipe in half. Rylan ignored the leaking air and blood and kept going. The blade pierced through the troll’s muscles and came out on the other side of its neck, right between two cervical vertebrae.
With a sharp tug that used the leftover power of Thunderbolt, he pulled the blade out as the remaining troll turned to him, likely due to being able to hear him. He stepped back, weighing his options. He was fairly confident that he could use another Sword Art, but that would leave him completely drained. If another assassination squad appeared, he wouldn’t be in any condition to fight back. For his own sake, he shouldn’t do it. There was no harm in taking the second kill slow.
The first troll’s blood drowned the earth, flowing into the ground. The remaining troll swiped randomly, trying to hit an opponent that was no longer there. He used Drifting to dash in and out of the creature’s range, attacking every time he did so, always targeting the preexisting wounds. The high-paced fighting style’s most basic principle was to keep moving. He didn’t stop for even a second, giving the monster no breathing room. Its legs failed it before the rest of its body. Rylan smelled the opportunity like a bloodhound. The moment it knelt on the ground, his sword dug into its neck.
After targeting the same spot a few more times, the troll fell to the ground. A System window appeared in front of him.
[You have reached Level 20.]
I’m getting closer to Level 25.
He nodded to himself. Level 25 was more than just another Level. It was the Level of the first Class Evolution. The System took into account everything about an individual to then offer them possible Classes. Each and every single one of the Classes offered were better than their previous one, in different ways. It meant that the System would likely consider his past life and Reincarnator Title.
I need to see what Classes are offered to me.
Before Level 25, Roland’s Class had merely been “Swordsman.” However, at the first Class Evolution, he had been offered “Prodigal Swordsinger,” which considered his Prodigy Trait. After taking that Class line to its very limits after several Class Evolutions, it finally resulted in “Sword Saint.”
However, Rylan’s current Class was “Mage,” and he used mana. He was certain that this would affect his options, but he wasn’t sure how. Would Roland’s memories be weighed more heavily since they were the basis of his strength? Or would this life not be dismissed?
He looked at the monsters’ carcasses on the ground and shook his head. He was still very far away from Roland’s level. There was no reason to feel prideful about this performance. He spoke.
“Time to go back.”
His senses didn’t identify the presence of another assassination squad. It didn’t matter why. For now, he was safe. Of course, the possibility that some of Evenon’s underlings knew a spell that could mask their presence – as Gerard had explained to him – he could end up being ambushed. It was why he never let his guard down. He turned in Cantavega’s direction. As he walked back to the city, Rylan opened his Status Window.
Status Window
Name: Rylan Flameheart
Level: 20
Race: Human (F)
Class: Mage
Profession: none.
Trait: Weak-willed
Stats
Strength: 31
Agility: 33
Endurance: 31
Body: 30
Intelligence: 48
Wisdom: 37
Free Points: 12
Active Skills
Magic Missile (F), Stormcaller Sword Style (S), Mountainpeak Swordsmanship (A), Second Imperial Swordsmanship (B), Falling Snow Steps (A).
Passive Skills
Mana Core (First Circle), Sword Handling (E), Stamina (E), Precision (E).
Hybrid Skills
Sword Mastery (Master).
Titles
Novice Mage; Wastrel; Good-for-Nothing; Reincarnator, Swordmaster, Novice Monster Slayer, Hard-working.
His training bore fruit. He had managed to increase his physical stats a bit without Leveling up, and had even picked up two new Passive Skills. Every bit helped. The values themselves hadn’t increased much, apart from the stats he got from Leveling up.
After Evenon is dealt with, I’ll be able to truly focus on developing this.
It would take some time, but he knew of several Titles that would be helpful and how to acquire them. Preferably, he should do so before Level 25, letting the System take them into account for the Class Evolution. The Titles that improved the results of his training and allowed him to train for longer periods of time were his highest priority. Through them, he would be able to better raise his physical stats without spending Free Points.
I’ll talk to Father about Titles that affect Intelligence and Wisdom.
None of the stats on his Status Window were useless. Intelligence and Wisdom affected his mana circulation in intensity, duration, and magnitude. If there was a way to develop them, he needed to know about it, especially if it didn’t require one to Level up. He also needed a decent proficiency in magic to be accepted into a good Magic Academy.
Still, first things first. Four Points into Strength, four into Agility, and four into Body.
He felt his body shift and change, becoming stronger. It wasn’t to an overwhelming extent; he still knew exactly what he was capable of.
There’s a lot to do.
Evenon’s death would only signify the start of this life’s second chapter. A chapter that he had decided upon himself.
Comments
Gopard
Thanks for the chapter!
