The Last Dainv-Chapter 60

The Last Dainv-Chapter 60

The knight sat atop the throne, silent and completely still. Gale turned back and strode to the back of the throne. Stopping, he stared at the blank walls. No doors anywhere, not even ones that slid with a hiss. To his left, a pedestal that held an orb.
Walking over to the orb, he immediately put his hand on it. Space stretched inwards and then back outwards. The nausea from the jarring split of space no longer made him want to vomit. Instead, all it did was make him lose his balance, something that no longer mattered.
Gale stood in the familiar entrance door of the stone tower. The sleek metal hallways and circuit patterns were replaced by the weathered rough jagged cobblestone. The smell of dirt, trees, and grass wafted through the gaps of the door. He was back.
[Available: 1 skill point.]
The notification was still there, just at the top right side of his vision. He'd almost forgotten about it, the reward for acquiring Vianne's fragment. His lips curved into a half-smile.
"Let's see what we're working with here," he muttered. Time to test out 'analyze' on his own skills. Gale stared at the 'Phase Touch' skill and willed himself to analyze it.
[Phase Touch - A cold touch from where nothingness begins]
[Effects: Any object that is phased is transferred into the immaterial dimension.]
[Allowed: Any object in contact with the user's body.]
[Essence cost: 5/minute]
It worked.
The status screen showed him more than the stupidly vague words he had seen before. The ability had been his bread and butter after he got the sabre. It was this skill that allowed him to kill the predators, allowing the bone's edge to slice through with ease. And now against the knight, it allowed his own style to develop, making it more unpredictable. It would only make sense to try to put the point on it.
[Phase Touch lv. 4 - LOCKED]
[Core Class Required: Attuned]
"Damn," he cursed. "You stupid system. You were supposed to help me, so why are you blocking me!"
Gale tapped the skill many times in rapid succession. Nothing interesting happened. He sighed, all that's left to do now was look at the other skills.
[Alter - Cev distorts reality to commune with his subjects.]
[Effects: Alter the physical properties of an object.]
[Allowed: Any object in contact with the user's body.]
[Essence cost: 5 + 1/minute]
[Upgrade to Lv. 3: Cost 1 skill point]
[Allows changes to the density of an object.]
Physical properties of an object… huh. He thought it was just about adjusting the size of an object. Apparently, there was more to it. Lv. 3 would have allowed him to change the density. This could mean weight. It would allow him to make things lighter and things heavier during impact point.
[Distort - Reality is but an illusion that can be bent.]
[Effects: Disrupts matter around the user.]
[Allowed: Surrounding of user.]
[Essence cost: 10 + 2/minute]
[Cost 1 Skill Point: Distort Lv.3]
[Allows creation of (1) illusion of the user.]
Before when it was Level 1, he used it to create refractions that looked like mirrors. After the proficiency increased, he used it to hide himself.
Physical illusions. Did it also move on its own? If not, then what would be the purpose of an illusion if it can't even move? Refractions had saved him from the forest predator. It would seem useless as it didn't give him power, but its utility was the one that allowed him to slice through the tide of beasts at the giant tree. It was the weakling's tool against the powerful or the impossible. Against someone like Elliot, that could be the difference between victory and defeat.
Power isn't just about what you can do. It's about what you're willing to do.
That's what the knight said. Not exactly, but the same thing. Wait, no. Those were literally his words.
He looked down at his hands, remembering how his parents had taught him to use tools rather than rely on raw power. Then illusion would then be a tool. It's more than what levelling up Alter can do which is just another attribute in a skill.
An illusion though? Now
that
would be a new tool in the box.
Gale tapped on the skill. His essence pulsed wildly in his pathways, creating a distinct pattern that he never felt before.
[Skill Point allocated to Distort]
[Your Distort increased in proficiency…]
[New Effect: Physical Illusion Creation unlocked]
The surge calmed down, settling into his muscles, bones, and pathways. He raised his hand, pointing at a location on instinct. Clenching as he channelled essence through his arms, he willed Distort to create an illusion. The world spun, not in the same way when he let go of the definition of 'orientation.' It spun in a way that he felt he was creating something that should not exist, yet it should. The will wanted to create a physical manifestation of the self. Reality fought back and clawed at his own mind.
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The air rippled like water. At first, nothing happened. Slowly, grains of light manifested all around as reality warped. The grains coalesced into a shape to where he'd pointed at. The form, layer by layer, took on colour, depth, muscle, tissue, skin, scent, breath, and finally essence.
He circled the illusion, studying the details. Every scar he'd ever had and every thread of the clothes he currently wore was a carbon copy on the illusion. It even breathed. Goddamn! That's creepy.
Breath of the Void whispered to him, revealing the nature of what he'd just created. It existed in both the real and the not real. A construction and a deconstruction of reality into a physical being in front of him. Its signature felt the same as the tendrils of his passive skill, yet also in perfect harmony with reality in front of him. It would be what they would be had they existed in physical sight.
Gale reached out to touch the illusion's shoulder. His hand met resistance, like pressing against thick cloth. Not quite flesh, but not empty air either. Goosebumps pricked his skin. It was uncanny when looking at himself, let alone feeling the thing that was both real and not real.
"Move," he commanded, focusing his essence. The illusion's arm twitched, rising with painful slowness. Sweat beaded on Gale's forehead from the effort. It felt like trying to lift a boulder with his mind.
He let the arm drop, and instantly he started gasping for air. The essence drain was significant, but manageable. The real challenge was taking control of the illusion. Activating even one strand of muscle sent a sharp pain to the back of his head like creating new brain synapses from nothing.
For now, it was like pushing a blob of water into many different inputs all at once. He needed to calculate exactly how much each input needed and divide up that blob of water, as well as aim exactly where the input was.
He moved on, using the tendrils of Breath of the Void to create a giant magnifying glass to examine both himself and his double. The illusion had his scent and matched his body temperature. Even the small details were perfect. The way his hair fell, the slight blemish in his skin.
What about its taste? Dad always said taste was also a good way to learn things. Tasting the dirt where tracks laid could tell him much more than scent, sight, and hearing. It was only natural.
Gale grimaced. On second thought, tasting his own skin or even flesh wasn't very appetizing. Give him dirt, give him trees. Probably even feces. He'd put it all in his mouth just to hunt game.
This though? Nah.
The next thing he tried to do was making the illusion walk. Its movements were literally stiff and mechanical. Each step required intense concentration. If anyone saw him, they'd ask him why he was bathing in his own sweat.
After three steps, he had to stop. His head throbbed from the effort, and his essence was clearly shouting at him to stop.
[Essence: 8/100]
"Not exactly combat ready," he muttered. But the potential was there. With practice, this could become a powerful tool. A way to create distractions, set up ambushes, or maybe even mislead enemies.
Time passed and the blue moon blinked as the light that came from it dimmed. He discovered he could maintain the illusion at a distance of about thirty feet before he could no longer control its movements. Any further, and the connection became too weak to sustain and the illusion would disappear.
Making the illusion perform complex movements proved nearly impossible. Simple gestures drained his concentration. Anything more elaborate felt like trying to write with both hands while reciting poetry backward.
Still, each attempt got a little easier. The essence flowed more naturally, responding to his intent rather than just his direct commands.
[Your Essence Control increased in proficiency...]
Gale tried something new, channeling essence into the illusion's voice box. For that, he'd need to push air out of its lungs.
The copy's mouth opened, producing a sound identical to his own voice. The effort left him dizzy, but it worked.
Each attempt at something new taught him about the skill's limits. The essence drain remained significant, but it wasn't as bad as before when he didn't know what he was doing.
He made the illusion sit against the tower wall, studying how it interacted with its environment. Dust collected on its clothes just like a real person. Shadows fell across it naturally. Even the subtle rise and fall of breathing was perfectly replicated.
[Essence depleted.]
Suddenly, the illusion turned into white grains, dissipating into the air, leaving Gale alone in the stone tower. His head ached from the strain of maintaining the illusion, but he felt more alive than before.
There was only one thing left to do while his essence was recovering. He needed to prepare to kill Elliot. But how?
Gale took the sword to his grip, and its circuits came to life, pulsing faintly. He raised the blade, recalling the knight's grace from their duel.
[Analyzing...]
[Error: Weight distribution sub-optimal.]
[Recommendation: Shift right foot 15 degrees outward.]
Gale adjusted his footing, feeling the difference immediately. The blade felt lighter, more balanced. He moved through the opening sequence of attacks the knight had used.
[Error: Excessive shoulder rotation.]
[Recommendation: Maintain core engagement through motion.]
Sweat dripped down his face as he corrected each flaw. The system's feedback didn't care about his feelings. Every inefficiency and error would be highlighted. Every swing, step, and timing of his breath, all critiqued to stamp out any impurity in his movement.
The blue moon's light brightened as he practiced. Time seemed to fade into tertiary consciousness. His arms trembled from exertion. Another swing, a slight whistle that should not be there.
[Error: Guard position leaves right flank exposed.]
[Recommendation: Adjust blade angle 30 degrees counter-clockwise.]
He repeated the same block that had saved him from the knight's overhead strike. Imagining the knight in front of him, swinging its giant sword at him, he took a stance that would deflect the sword at a sharp angle downwards. Without essence flowing through his muscles, he felt and saw every imperfection in his form.
[Error: Step sequence creates momentum loss.]
[Recommendation: Reduce distance between transitions.]
Momentum during a blocking phase was a comedic concept. To Gale, it was essential. The deflection needed to transform into an attack. There was no defense in the Dainv Sword Arts. Every movement was basically an attack. And after the deflection finished, he spun into a strike using the momentum of the sword's clash.
[Error: Strike path deviates 8 degrees from optimal.]
[Recommendation: Adjust wrist rotation during follow-through.]
Gale learned with his body. His muscles told him to rest, but every moment in this damned world felt worse than pushing his body to the limit. Training like this didn't even compare when dad was here.
The imaginary knight's sword lunged at him in a stab. Instead of dodging, he charged at it. A simple tap of the flat didn't need to change the sword's direction. It only needed to change his own direction to where he targeted.
[Error: 0.3 second delay between combinations]
[Recommendation: Maintain momentum through transition points.]
Gale had stopped at the spot where he had made a smoker, just at the border of the stone tower and the dark forest. He had made that smoker when Dmitry was still alive during their scouting activity for the exit rift.
If only he knew what he knew now. If only he was stronger and faster. If he had just dived into the Origin System, they wouldn't have died. John wouldn't have died either.
Rachel wouldn't have been stabbed. There were so many ifs. The future would be different… it would be.
Examining the area closer, there were many more footprints near the edge of the stone tower, as if a stampede went by. That didn't stop Gale from deducing that all those prints came from where the meadow would be. So much for getting mad at mom and dad huh.
Gale followed the tracks. He didn't know why he was following them, but a hunch made him want to go back to the meadows. He needed to see the aftermath himself.

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Chapter 60