The streets of Tolany pulsed with life. Merchants called out their wares, the scent of roasted meat curled through the air, and laughter wove between the clatter of footsteps on worn cobblestones. I moved with purpose, stepping into the first blacksmith’s shop I came across, the heavy iron door groaning on its hinges. Inside, the hammer’s rhythmic song rang out, metal meeting metal in steady, practiced beats.
“Ah, customer, eh?” The blacksmith, a burly man streaked with soot, wiped his hands on a rag and gave me a once-over. “Lookin’ fer somethin’ special, or jus’ a good blade to get the job done?”
“A blade,” I answered, scanning the weapons displayed along the walls.
He reached for a broadsword, lifting it with practiced ease. “Solid craftsmanship, this one. Well-balanced, strong. Ain’t just for show. This blade’ll serve ye well in a fight.”
The weapon gleamed under the forge’s glow, its broad steel blade bearing the faint ripples of expert tempering. The crossguard was thick and sturdy, shaped like outstretched wings, with subtle engravings running along its length, faded from wear but hinting at a once-proud insignia. A leather-wrapped grip sat snug between a polished steel pommel, its weight promising stability in a warrior’s hand.
I took it, rolling the hilt in my palm, feeling its weight. Functional. But it lacked something.
“Not quite right for me,” I murmured, handing it back.
I moved from shop to shop, hoping to find a sword that called to me, but each attempt ended the same. The weapons were fine, skilled work, made for battle, but none of them felt like mine. At one stall, a young apprentice eagerly presented a set of daggers, twirling one between his fingers.
“Fast, precise, perfect for a quick kill,” he said with a grin.
“Not my style,” I replied, already turning away.
Another smith, older and more seasoned, offered a gleaming katana. “A fine piece,” he said with pride. “You won’t find another like it.”
I unsheathed it slightly, letting the steel catch the lantern light. Beautiful, yes, but when I tested its grip, it felt foreign, like a borrowed relic rather than an extension of myself.
“I appreciate it,” I said, placing it back with care.
The afternoon stretched on, the sun drifting ever so slightly toward the horizon. My patience wore thin with each fruitless search. None of these blades were mine. I pushed the thought aside. No point in wasting more time. A sword wasn’t essential. Not for this. I had my magic, my instincts, and the resolve to get the job done. Better to focus on finding some light armor and move on.
I made my way to an armory, the scent of metal and leather greeting me as I stepped inside. The walls were lined with various types of armor, each piece telling its own story of battles fought and won. After a brief survey, I found a set of light armor that would suit my needs. A simple design that offered adequate protection without sacrificing mobility.
The armorer, a burly man with a bushy beard, eyed me as I approached. I examined the armor closely, running my fingers over the smooth surface, feeling the weight of it against my palms. It wasn't the finest quality, but it would suffice for now.
I engaged the armorer in a bit of haggling. After some back-and-forth, I managed to bring the price down to 5 silvers and 3 coppers.
Stepping out of the shop, I took in the daylight still clinging to the streets. There was no sense in lingering. If I wanted to clear out that goblin camp before nightfall, I needed to move. With that thought, I set off toward The Great Depths Forest.
* * *
I stepped outside of Tolany, leaving the city's vibrant chaos behind. The Great Depths Forest loomed ahead, a wall of green and shadow. The air thickened with the scent of earth and damp leaves as I entered the forest's embrace.
With each step, I focused on my surroundings, feeling the pulse of mana in the air, a living thing waiting to be shaped. I needed to track that goblin camp, but I also craved to delve deeper into my spatial magic. I recalled the ease with which I had warped through the battlefield earlier, appearing behind the demon before its death at my hand.
I paused, closed my eyes, and reached out with my senses. Instead of just looking for the camp, I tried to feel space itself, the distances between trees, the gaps in foliage. With a thought, I twisted my perception. The world around me shimmered; distances compressed and expanded like a breath.
A nearby boulder stood solid and unyielding, about 10 feet away from my position; I focused on it and felt the space around it ripple. In an instant, I teleported closer, my body shifting like a whisper in the wind, and there I was, just inches from the stone’s cold surface.
A thrill surged through me. It was exhilarating to bend space like this, becoming untethered from mere physical distance.
I caught a glimpse in the periphery of my sight to find the notification I had anticipated, only to be taken aback by the specifics.
New Skill Acquired: [Teleport I], Skill Tier: Expert
I felt puzzled, as unlike my previous skill acquisitions, this one was at the Expert tier. I recalled that my [Pocket Space] skill had been obtained at the Prime tier and struggled to comprehend the variance in skill mastery. It was clear to me that the rapidity with which I learned these abilities was extraordinary, primarily because I innately understood how to execute them due to my unique confinement within the mana void. I pondered further on the distinction in skill acquisition, even contemplating extending the distance I could teleport by concentrating on a tree about 100 feet away.
There was a minor challenge, limiting my push of the skill to the intended range, but as I concentrated more, I easily surmounted it. The pace of my transfer seemed to quicken as I appeared at my designated focal point.
I was acquainted with legacy skills from my past life, and essentially, these represented one of two categories in which active and utility skills existed. Each active and utility skill was associated with inherent mastery tiers. For instance, an active skill like [Slash] could be attained at the Novice tier, and it would subsequently develop as the individual advanced to the Journeyman tier, evolving into the active skill [Cut].
This progression hinged on the individual's commitment to achieving full mastery of the skill. Consequently, skills of this nature ultimately reached their limits when no further evolution was possible. It was clear with my skill [Rend], representing the master tier evolution stemming from my proficiency in the skill [Slash]. To my knowledge, that was the highest evolution the skill could achieve. Skills of this type did not always start at lower tiers; some only existed at higher mastery levels since not all skills were equal.
The other category of active and utility skills comprised those that did not necessarily evolve but instead saw their power and range increase with the individual's mastery over them. These were termed legacy skills. The skill would emerge or be acquired in its foundational stage at its requisite tier and progress into a higher mastery tier, characterized by an increase in its power. This progression was indicated by the skill retaining its name while the skill itself was upgraded through numerical designation.
I explored the significance of this and came to understand that the system notifying me about my skill acquisitions was its way of assessing my proficiency with the skill as I performed it within its constraints. The way I had employed the [Teleport I] skill likely aligned with the skill's usual power and capability.
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I ventured deeper into the forest while continuing to play with my abilities. Instead of walking, I warped and teleported from tree to tree, a brief flicker here, a blink there, making my way forward while practicing precise control over each jump and change in position. I even integrated the use of rifts, expanding its role as a shield, a slicing tool, and even as a portal to another location within my perception.
I could feel it; each shift taught me more about what I could do and how to mold reality around me without drawing too much attention or straining against its fabric.
In one instance, as I landed softly on a branch above a narrow stream, my gaze caught movement below: small green figures darting through bushes.
Goblins.
My heart slowed at their ragged laughter.
I crouched down and refocused my attention. Each goblin moved with erratic energy yet their movements were still confined by the surrounding space. Peering below, I frowned at the source of their glee. Human bodies lay strewn about, clearly overwhelmed by the goblins, their forms smeared with what I now recognized as the blood of their fallen human foes. I noticed no armor among the corpses and could only deduce that they were travelers who had been ambushed on their way to Tolany. I initially held back my urge to attack, choosing instead to trail their path in hopes of discovering the goblin camp.
To my embarrassment, my patience faltered, and I found myself landing amidst them as they reveled in their triumph. The shock was immediate as the group of five goblins lunged at me with wild abandon. I evaded a strike aimed at my midsection from the right, pivoting away from the attack and delivering a reverse roundhouse kick to one of the goblins rushing at me from the left. The force sent it crashing into the nearest tree, where its frail body splattered against the next trunk it collided with. With four left, the remaining goblins retreated a short distance, likely hoping to regroup and strategize for a united front. They would not be granted that chance, as I teleported behind the goblin to my right, quickly decapitating it with a swipe of my mana-infused hand.
The terror was palpable as the three surviving goblins turned and fled. They would be my guide to my objective. I reflected on the skirmish and my use of my abilities, considering how future encounters would require refinements to my teleportation and warping techniques. Relying on simply appearing behind my opponents was too predictable.
I needed to better understand the true potential of my skill and expand my approach so I could manifest anywhere I desired, increasing the variability of my attacks. Setting my thoughts aside for later, I teleported above the goblins, unaware that they had unwittingly assisted me in the annihilation of their camp.
* * *
I followed the trail of fleeing goblins deeper into the forest, weaving through the underbrush with calculated precision. Each rustle of leaves and snapping twig echoed in my ears as I moved closer to their camp. I could almost taste the anticipation in the air. Their raucous laughter twisted into panicked shrieks, the once-bold cackles now a scattered chorus of fear as they scrambled to flee. Their instinct knew what they faced was something far worse than them.
After a few moments of tracking, I reached an open gouge in the earth, surrounded by towering trees that stretched high above like guardians. The dense canopy filtered sunlight into flickering beams, illuminating patches of dirt and moss below. I paused at the edge, crouching low to survey the area.
The camp sprawled out before me with rough-hewn tents made from animal hides and frayed cloth haphazardly arranged around a central fire pit, where embers glowed faintly. Goblins milled about, their skin varying shades of green and brown, all busy counting their ill-gotten gains: coins gleamed dully amid broken weapons and torn armor. Their beady eyes darted around with suspicion yet they seemed unaware of how close danger lurked.
I spotted a lofty overlook on a nearby ridge that commanded a view of the entire camp. The branches above would offer concealment while granting me a clearer view of their numbers and strategies.
I glanced at the ridge I had identified, envisioning it vividly as though it were already under my feet. In a heartbeat, I disappeared from my spot and reappeared atop the ridge with a soft thud, my boots sinking slightly into the moist ground.
From this elevation, I took in the scene below. The goblins moved in disordered patterns. Their laughter erupted again as one particularly bold goblin waved a human dagger like a trophy, displaying it for the admiration of its companions.
This was no ordinary goblin tribe. They had appropriated these bodies as trophies and bragged about their victories without fear of retaliation. I observed as the fleeing goblins entered the camp, stirring excitement among the others. Their animated recounting of our encounter was on full display, culminating in gestures toward the path they had taken.
There seemed to be a lack of respect from the horde below, as the surviving victims of my assault were laughed at and simultaneously mocked by larger goblins and one that appeared to be a hobgoblin.
At that instant, I decided to teleport right into the heart of the camp, placing myself between the original targets of my attack. They recoiled at the sight of me, screeching in terror and darting behind the encircling goblin horde. This momentarily captivated the goblins and initiated the rush of their offensive.
The first goblin died before it even registered my presence. One moment, it was mid-charge, jagged blade raised, eyes gleaming with bloodlust. The next, a thin, spatial rift split through its torso, severing it in two before the halves slumped lifelessly to the ground.
I pivoted, stepping through another rift mid-motion, emerging above the hobgoblin I had noticed from my vantage point. It barely had time to shriek before I crushed the space around its skull, imploding bone and brain matter in an instant.
Chaos erupted. Goblins screeched, scrambling to form a crude defense as more poured from the tents and other hidden areas of the camp. Fifty, maybe sixty in total. I lost count as the numbers continued to increase. Too many for an untrained adventurer.
Perfect.
I shifted through space as a goblin lunged, its club swinging through where I had stood a fraction of a second before. It snarled, then stiffened when another goblin’s rusted axe buried deep in its shoulder. A panicked mistake. One I had orchestrated.
I stepped forward, snapping my fingers. The air around them warped violently, folding inward with a sickening crunch as their bodies collapsed into themselves, leaving nothing but crushed remnants behind.
From the biggest tent in the hollow, a Hobgoblin Chief observed, its jaundiced eyes shining with a disquieting cleverness. Unlike the lesser goblins, this one wielded a mana-infused cleaver, jagged and pulsing with faint energy. More troubling, two Shamans flanked it, their gnarled staves humming with eerie green light. I activated [Identify V] on the three goblins, finding their level and mana signatures to be in line with my usual standards.
[Hobgoblin Chief - Level 38, High Journeyman]
[Goblin Shaman - Level 32, Journeyman]
[Goblin Shaman - Level 28, Low Journeyman]
The Chief let out a guttural roar, and the battlefield shifted.
Goblins snapped into formation. Spear-wielders formed a jagged front line while archers scrambled onto higher ground, their bone-tipped arrows glinting in the fading sunlight. Others melted into the underbrush, positioning themselves for an ambush.
So the Chief had tactics. That made things more interesting.
If they wanted to test their coordination, I was happy to oblige.
A spear thrust forward. I didn’t dodge. Instead, I twisted the space around it. The air shimmered, dragging the goblin’s momentum into a sluggish crawl.
I stepped past the feeble attack and twisted the space in front to rebound, accelerating the spear backward and straight through its wielder’s chest.
More charged. I blurred through the battlefield, stepping in and out of rifts, severing limbs, crushing skulls, and collapsing space in violent implosions that left only torn remains in their wake.
Archers drew their bows and let their arrows fly, only to see their shots intercepted or redirected by my rifts into the ranks of their comrades. I blinked into their midst from an elevated position and unleashed a storm of distortions among them, obliterating their forces.
The Shamans hissed, raising their staves. Dark energy crackled as they conjured a spell.
I directed my attention to them.
A rift snapped open beneath one Shaman, severing it cleanly in half before it could utter another word. The second tried to flee, but I twisted the space around it, folding its body unnaturally inward until nothing remained but a crumpled husk.
I teleported again, materializing directly in front of the Chief. It growled, its eyes aflame with fury. It lifted its sword and brought it crashing down towards me, the mana enveloping the cleaver pulsating and expanding mid-swing.
I stood firm until the final instant and then I slipped into the void.
The Chief's cleaver cut through the empty air, leaving an arc that matched the blade's trajectory as it cleaved the ground and extended beyond.
I reappeared in my original position, having timed my evasion perfectly.
A thin, vertical rift shimmered into existence, bisecting the air itself. The Chief barely had time to register what had happened before the rift snapped shut, splitting its skull in two.
Its body crumpled to the dirt, head neatly split in half.
The remaining goblins froze. Then, as one, they shrieked in terror and scattered into the trees.
The fight was over. With that, I started to scour the camp for anything of value while gathering the ears of the fallen goblins, putting them into an empty sack I discovered and stowing the sack in my [Pocket Space]. I couldn’t help but chuckle, as it was arguable how my spatial control was genuinely even more beneficial for this task.
