The forest floor was cold beneath him, but it felt distant—like his body wasn’t truly there. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, each one an effort. His fingers twitched against the earth, but the familiar strength that once surged through them was gone, replaced by a hollow emptiness. The ground beneath him felt wrong, as though the world itself had shifted.
I should be dead.
The thought came unbidden, but it rang with truth. He could still feel the echoes of that moment—the ancient magic ripping through him, the raw, unstoppable power that had nearly swallowed him whole. It had been like staring into an abyss, only to realize the abyss had been staring back the entire time. He had felt the weight of it crushing him, pulling him apart piece by piece.
And yet, here he was. Broken, bleeding, but alive.
The world around him felt unreal—still, silent, yet buzzing with an energy that seemed to hum beneath the surface of the earth. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his ribs aching with each attempt to move. But it wasn’t the pain that held his attention.
It was the memory. The vision.
The explosion—no, the cataclysm—had torn through the forest with a force unlike anything he had ever felt. It was as if the very essence of the world had been ripped apart and rebuilt in the span of a few heartbeats.
He closed his eyes again, letting it wash over him—the rivers of aether, flowing like veins in the sky, weaving a tapestry of light and energy unlike anything he had ever seen. It hadn’t been just magic. No, this was something ancient, something primal. The symbols that had flickered before his eyes, shimmering in the air like glowing embers, were far older than any magic he’d encountered. They had pulsed with meaning he couldn't quite grasp, as if whispering secrets he was never meant to hear.
The gazebo...
It had stood there in the clearing, derelict and forgotten, surrounded by the silent power of the place. There had been something sacred about it—no, not just sacred. Forbidden. Like he had trespassed on ground he had no right to stand on. His heart had pounded with the weight of it, the knowledge that he had tapped into something far beyond his understanding. He wasn’t just playing with fire—he had walked into the heart of an inferno.
The memory burned behind his eyes, a vivid imprint of power and terror. For a brief moment, as he had stood there, caught between the flow of aether and the ancient symbols surrounding him, he had felt himself unraveling. His own aether, the core of his being, had been pulled toward the currents like a thread being drawn into a river. He hadn’t been able to stop it. The magic had been too powerful, too overwhelming.
I should have died there, he thought, his body trembling at the memory. I should have been erased.
How had he survived? How had he stood in the presence of something so vast and come away with his mind intact?
A shiver ran down his spine as he recalled the symbols, strange and foreign, yet somehow familiar. They had hovered in the air, surrounding him, as if measuring his worth—deciding whether to consume him or let him go. He hadn’t understood them, but he had felt their judgment.
I wasn’t supposed to see that.
It hadn’t been meant for mortal eyes. He had crossed a threshold, stumbled into a space where magic still breathed with the ancient rhythms of the world, where the power of the gods or something even older lingered. The air had been thick with it, like the world was holding its breath, waiting for him to make a move.
And I survived... somehow.
The panther had been a terrifying force, yes. But that... that was something different. Something cosmic. He had faced beasts before. He could understand them. He could fight them. But the magic? The vast, flowing rivers of aether, the symbols older than time itself? He couldn’t fight that. He couldn’t even comprehend it.
His hands clenched weakly at his sides as he struggled to sit up, pain shooting through his muscles. Every inch of him screamed with exhaustion, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil raging inside his mind. He had seen behind the veil of reality, and it had nearly killed him.
The familiar pulse of a notification flickered at the edge of his vision, and he welcomed the distraction. He needed something to ground him, something to remind him that he was still here—still alive, still whole. Slowly, he focused on the words vying for his attention.
Congratulations!
Character level up! You have reached level 38!
The battle with the moon panther had gained him a level. If there was a doubt how strong the beast had been, then his new level was proof enough. A groan slipped his mouth and checked his health.
Health Points: 110/950
Aether: 10/540
Stamina: 90/900
His body was a wreck, but the numbers confirmed what he already knew. He had barely survived. His health and aether reserves were on the verge of collapse, and the strain of whatever that magic had been still clung to him like a second skin. But it was the fact that he had leveled up at all that brought a bitter smile to his face.
I lived through that.
It felt like a hollow victory. The magic had spared him, but at what cost? What had it left behind, buried in the deepest parts of him? There was no walking away from an event like that unchanged.
With a shaky breath, Thorne shifted his focus to his skills. It was a routine, something to cling to. He needed to see what had changed—what he had gained from the experience that nearly killed him.
Skill level up!
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Daggers: 48 (+1)
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Lethal Flurry: 12 (+1)
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Bloodletting: 5 (+2)
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Aether Surge: 10 (+1)
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Invisible Threads: 5 (+2)
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Burst of Speed: 5 (+2)
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Combat Reflexes: 41 (+2)
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Aetheric Skin: 18 (+1)
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Stealth: 50 (Max Level, ready to evolve)
Thorne blinked, the words taking a moment to register. His body still ached from the battle, his mind struggling to keep pace with the flood of information. He had leveled up—not surprising, given the sheer magnitude of the fight he had just survived. But the weight of the accomplishment didn’t quite sink in. All he could focus on was the quiet pain in his body and the dull throb in his core.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
He scrolled through the rest of the notifications, noting the small increases in his abilities. Aether Surge was stronger now, though he could feel its strain even more acutely after pushing himself to the brink. Bloodletting had grown sharper, more precise—his cuts would drain more blood, sap more strength from his enemies. Combat Reflexes had improved too, honing his instinctual reactions in the heat of battle. And Stealth Strike, his bread and butter, was faster, more lethal than before.
But the messages that followed made him pause.
His Stealth had finally reached its peak. Level 50. He had been so close to this moment for so long, and now, after everything that had happened, he had made it. A surge of satisfaction bloomed in his chest, followed quickly by a sense of dread. Evolving a skill wasn’t just about getting stronger. It was a fundamental shift—one that could change the way he fought, the way he survived.
The last time a skill had evolved—when his Running had become Burst of Speed—it had altered the very way his body moved, giving him a level of control and agility he had never thought possible. But this... this was different. Stealth was his lifeline. It was the skill that had saved him countless times, the one thing that had kept him alive when nothing else could.
The notification expanded, revealing his options for the skill’s evolution. Thorne blinked at the list, his tired mind processing each one carefully.
Stealth Evolution Options:
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Shadow Slip: Slip between shadows within a certain range, allowing for rapid repositioning in combat or escape.
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Living Shadow: Shadows distort around you, making you nearly impossible to detect, even with magic.
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Silent Echo: Leave behind an echo of your form after moving in stealth, confusing enemies who attempt to strike.
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Veil of Light and Shadow: Blend seamlessly into any environment, becoming invisible regardless of lighting conditions.
His pulse quickened as he read through the choices. Each one offered something different, something powerful. But the thought of changing Stealth—the one skill he had relied on more than anything—sent a wave of unease through him.
Shadow Slip would make him faster, allowing him to vanish and reappear from one shadow to the next. A dangerous, useful tool in combat.
But then there was Living Shadow, which would twist the very environment around him, making him nearly invisible even to magical detection. He could picture it now, shadows bending to his will, hiding him from enemies who thought they had the upper hand.
Silent Echo was clever—he liked clever. The idea of leaving behind a false image to confuse his foes, letting him slip away unnoticed while they attacked the wrong target. It appealed to the trickster in him.
And finally, Veil of Light and Shadow—the ultimate stealth. Hiding in plain sight, regardless of the environment. The thought of being invisible even in broad daylight was tempting, especially for someone like him who had learned to navigate the darkest corners of the world.
His heart raced as the weight of the decision settled in. The battle with the panther had shown him that survival meant adapting, evolving. This was more than just an upgrade—it was the next step in his survival.
Thorne’s eyes traced over the options again, each one tempting in its own way. He knew this was a pivotal moment—not just a simple power-up, but a choice that would shape how he moved forward, how he survived in the world that had just revealed a glimpse of its true power. The ancient magic that had nearly destroyed him reminded him how small he was in the grand scheme of things, how fragile even his best skills could be.
He closed his eyes and let the possibilities settle in his mind.
Shadow Slip, the ability to slip between shadows would have given him an edge in combat, a way to reposition or flee when things went wrong. There was something undeniably appealing about the mobility it offered—the freedom to vanish and reappear elsewhere, controlling the battlefield like a phantom. But it also came with a catch. It relied on shadows being present. In the deep forests or under the cover of night, it would be perfect. But what about the times when there were no shadows to slip through? Shadow Meld already gave him a degree of protection in darkness. This felt like a luxury, not a necessity.
Living Shadow. He imagined it for a moment—the shadows bending to his will, obscuring him even from magical detection. It was powerful. The idea of becoming almost impossible to track was enticing, especially after the battle with the moon panther, where nothing he did seemed to hide him from the creature’s relentless pursuit. But then again, it was still tied to the presence of shadows. In broad daylight or open spaces, it would be useless. Shadows could be elusive. They moved, they shifted. He needed something more consistent.
Silent Echo, Thorne’s lips twitched in a faint smile. This evolution was the closer to his heart. Leaving behind a false image to confuse enemies, allowing him to slip away unnoticed while they attacked the wrong target. It fit his style. It was cunning, deceptive, and practical. But it also felt situational. He couldn’t count on enemies always falling for the illusion. And in the moments when speed and silence were of the essence, creating echoes might just slow him down. It was a tempting trick, but tricks had their limits.
His eyes lingered on the final option.
Veil of Light and Shadow. The ability to blend seamlessly into any environment, whether bathed in sunlight or cloaked in darkness. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He wouldn’t be restricted by shadows or specific environments. It was versatile, adaptable—exactly what he needed moving forward. He could hide in plain sight, no matter where he found himself. It wasn’t the most overtly magical of the options, but it was the most practical. The one that could serve him in any situation.
He had relied on Stealth to survive all this time, and this evolution—Veil of Light and Shadow—would ensure that he could stay hidden, no matter the circumstance. And if he ever needed more, his Shadow Meld skill was still there, offering protection in darker places, where the shadows wrapped around him like a second skin.
This is the one, he thought, his mind clearing as the decision solidified. The one that makes the most sense.
Thorne let out a slow breath and made the choice.
The moment he confirmed the evolution, he felt the shift inside him. It was subtle at first, like the quiet settling of dust, but then it grew—an expanding awareness of the space around him, of light and shadow, of how the world perceived him and how he could bend that perception. His skin prickled as the magic wove itself into his very being, intertwining with the core of his Stealth skill.
He could almost feel the air shift around him, responding to his presence—or rather, the absence of it. He wasn't just hiding anymore. He was blending, becoming a part of the world in a way that defied sight and sound. Light no longer betrayed him, and darkness no longer offered his enemies an advantage. He was invisible, everywhere and nowhere at once.
Thorne flexed his fingers, testing the sensation, and for a brief moment, the world felt like it had bent around him, bending to his will.
Stealth Skill Evolved: Veil of Light and Shadow
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You can now blend into any environment, regardless of light level.
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You remain equally effective at hiding in daylight as in total darkness.
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Stealth is no longer restricted by environmental conditions.
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Current Subskills: Shadow Meld (additional stealth in shadowy areas).
He blinked as the notification closed, leaving him alone with the new weight of power. It was done.
The magic settled into him, the evolution complete. But even now, as the rush of new strength coursed through him, his thoughts wandered back to the ancient magic he had seen. It was a reminder that no matter how far he evolved, there were still forces out there beyond his comprehension. Forces that could unmake him in an instant.
He lay back against the ground, exhaustion pulling at him, but his mind was sharp. The world was changing. He was changing. And whether or not he understood the full extent of it, one thing was certain.
He was still alive. And that was enough.
Thorne exhaled slowly, the faint warmth of his breath visible in the cool night air. The lingering sensations of his newly evolved Stealth skill buzzed at the edges of his awareness, but for the first time since the battle, he felt grounded. Stable. He wasn’t whole yet, but he was getting there. His mind still ached from the weight of everything—the ancient magic, the battle with the moon panther, the overwhelming rush of power—but now, with a clearer head, he knew there was work to be done.
Time to get organized, he thought, willing himself to focus. His body was still a mess, his health dangerously low, but that was something he could fix. He needed to pull up his character sheet and distribute his new attribute points, find some balance after everything had been pushed to the brink.
With a flicker of thought, the familiar sheet began to unfold before him, the numbers waiting for him to make the next move. But before he could dive in, something else caught his attention.
A soft chime, the subtle pulse of light at the edge of his vision—a series of new notifications he hadn’t seen before. Frowning, Thorne paused, hovering over them with hesitation. He hadn’t expected more. The skill evolution alone had been a significant shift, and the level-up had been a direct result of his battle. But this… this was different. The notifications blinked insistently, almost as if they had been waiting for him to notice.
What now?
His curiosity got the better of him. He hesitated for only a moment before pulling up the blinking notifications. The words unfolded before him, and his breath caught in his throat.
That changes everything!
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