Finally, he spotted a slender tree nearby. Yeah, that one oughta do. Looks punchable enough without splintering my knuckles.
"How about that one?" Oswald asked, pointing to a tree.
Selene barely spared the tree a glance. Instead, she pointed toward a towering behemoth looming beyond the firelight’s edge. Its massive trunk looked impenetrable, and its twisted roots coiled around the soil like sleeping serpents.
"Go and punch that one." Selene said.
Oswald’s jaw dropped slightly as he stared up at the enormous tree. You gotta be kiddin' me…
He swallowed nervously, eyeing the immense tree she had chosen with growing apprehension. No way my fist's makin' it out in one piece if I punch that thing.
But Oswald knew arguing wouldn’t get him anywhere. Selene’s amused smile told him she wasn’t about to let him worm his way out of this. With a sigh, he dragged his feet forward, every step feeling heavier than the last as he approached the massive tree.
The closer he got, the more its sheer size pressed down on him. Its trunk was thick and unyielding, and its roots twisted like thick serpents across the ground, some half-buried, others jutting out like jagged bones. Yeah, I'm definitely gonna break somethin’ tryin’ to punch this thing.
“Do not worry, Oswald. Surely you feel better now than you did before?” Selene said.
Her words gave him pause. Hmm, she's actually not wrong.
Oswald tested his muscles with cautious movements. They felt tighter, stronger, far sturdier than he remembered. He hadn't really noticed it till now, but the strength surging beneath his skin felt oddly invigorating, maybe even unnatural.
He glanced back over his shoulder at Selene, reluctantly conceding, "Guess you're right. I'm feelin' better than before. But I still ain't sold on punchin' this tree."
Selene offered a faint, reassuring smile. "Just do it, Oswald. You've surely done far more ridiculous tasks in your lifetime."
He let out a sharp laugh, remembering what the kinds of tasks he had to do in order to join the Black Hounds. "Yeah, can't argue with ya there."
Oswald took a deep breath and squared his stance as he faced the tree. His boots shifted, sinking slightly into the soft earth as he prepared himself.
He lifted his right fist slowly, aligning his knuckles precisely with the tree's weathered bark. Alright, gonna give it just a quick jab. Pull out fast, don't gotta break my hand for this. He took another breath, visualizing the precise moment his knuckles would graze the bark, just enough impact to satisfy Selene without doing any real harm.
The forest around him fell quiet, as though the world itself waited breathlessly for his strike. Oswald tightened his stance, legs bracing firmly beneath him.
In one swift movement, Oswald threw his punch. He felt the rush of cool night air brushing against his knuckles as his fist drew ever closer to the tree.
However, the moment his fist met the tree, something astonishing happened. Rather than bouncing painfully off the hardened bark, his knuckles pierced cleanly through, sinking effortlessly deep into the trunk.
Bark exploded outward around him in a splintering shower, fragments scattering across the forest floor. A loud, resonant crack filled the air, echoing sharply off the distant trees. Oswald's entire arm disappeared into the depths of the giant trunk, the sheer force of his blow sending vibrations rippling throughout the tree.
Stunned, Oswald stared dumbly at his arm, now buried nearly to the shoulder inside the tree. Splinters littered the ground around his feet. Damn, I did that?
He glanced backward at Selene, mouth agape in stunned silence. She sat calmly by the fire, looking very amused by what she saw. "I told you, you're stronger now. Perhaps stronger than you imagine."
Oswald slowly withdrew his arm from the tree, wood groaning and splintering further as he did. He flexed his fingers experimentally, marveling at the lack of pain or damage.
Shock slowly gave way to awe, mingling with confusion in the depths of his mind. He turned his gaze to Vivi, who stared back at him as if thoroughly unimpressed by his newfound strength.
A low chuckle rose from Oswald's throat as he shook splinters from his sleeve. He turned back toward Selene, feeling a sudden rush of exhilaration bubbling within him.
"Guess I'll take another skewer now," he called out cheerfully, grinning widely.
Selene nodded. "Well earned, Oswald."
Oswald returned to sit across from Selene. He gratefully accepted the skewer she offered, savoring the rich scent of roasted meat drifting upward. Taking a hearty bite, he let the smoky flavor wash over his senses before curiosity nudged at him again.
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"So, how exactly am I this strong now?" he asked, glancing down at his hand.
"It's the result of successfully making a contract with your Animus Spirit. If you wish to understand it more clearly, you should consult your system." Selene explained.
"Wait, you got a system too, then?"
"Of course, every person who is host to an Animus has one. However, you can't see mine, just as I can't see yours."
"Huh," Oswald muttered, nodding slowly. Guess that makes sense. It's probably kinda personal.
"Alright, I'll give it a quick look."
Closing his eyes, Oswald reached within, feeling that familiar warmth blossoming inside his chest. He summoned the system to the forefront of his consciousness, words shimmering clearly before him.
Souls: 0
Resonance: 1
Invocations: ???
Days until Tribute: 30
Skills:
- Slaughterborn (Special: Awakens a primal fervor for battle, enhancing reflexes, agility, and martial prowess as combat continues. These effects are amplified when facing stronger foes or overwhelming numbers of opponents.)
- True Sight (Tier 1: Grants the ability to see through darkness and illusion magic)
- Gaze of Doom (Tier 1: When activated, drains the life force of any target that makes direct eye contact)
- Ascended Physique (Tier 1: Grants enhanced physical capabilities, surpassing ordinary human limits.)
Oswald studied the list closely, excitement and confusion mixing in his chest. Ascended Physique? Makes sense, considerin' what just happened. But the skill named Slaughterborn captured his attention most. It lacked a tier, simply labeled "Special."
"You got the same skills as me? Like this Ascended Physique thing?"
"Ascended Physique is common among those with an Animus Spirit. It’s something of a foundation skill, so yes, we do share that one. But beyond certain basics, you'll likely discover you possess abilities uniquely suited to your spirit."
"What about 'Slaughterborn'? Ever heard of that?"
"I can't say that I recognize that one, no. What exactly does it do?"
"Well, far as I can tell, it's like… the longer I'm fightin', the stronger and faster I get. Kinda makes me better at handlin' myself, especially when I'm up against tougher enemies or a whole lot of 'em."
Selene chuckled softly. "That certainly sounds fitting for you, Oswald."
"Now what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I simply see great potential in you, that’s all."
Oswald felt warmth rising in his cheeks, quickly looking down at the nearly finished skewer to hide the embarrassment creeping onto his face. "Well, uh… thanks, I guess."
Selene smiled again, this time warmly, fondly even. She glanced briefly toward the wooden cabin behind them. "Go on and head inside, I have something prepared for you."
"Prepared? For me?"
"Indeed. Think of it as another reward, for your successful contract, and perhaps for your newfound strength."
Oswald's heart quickened slightly as he stepped into the cabin. Warm golden lantern-light filled the space, lighting up the interior. Vivi swiftly darted ahead, hopping gracefully onto a sturdy wooden table, her tail swishing back and forth as she surveyed the room.
In the center of the cabin stood a large wooden box, polished and gleaming faintly in the lantern’s glow. Oswald approached it cautiously. Wonder what she's got waitin' for me in here, he thought, gently running his fingers over the surface before carefully lifting the lid to see what's inside.
Whoa! Look at all this. There was an impressive assortment of new gear: a dark brown cloak, similar in color to his current one but sturdier, and impeccably crafted. Under it was a set of fresh tunics and pants, tailored precisely to his size, and a brand new leather eyepatch.
But his gaze quickly fixed upon the pristine longsword resting at the bottom of the box, its polished blade gleaming flawlessly. Oswald ran his hand reverently along its grip, feeling an undeniable sense of awe surge through him.
He turned quickly, hearing footsteps behind him. Selene had quietly entered. "What do you think?" .
Oswald spun around at the sound of approaching footsteps, his muscles tensing on instinct. Selene stood in the doorway, her presence as effortless as a passing breeze. The soft glow of the room’s light caught in her silver hair, and for a moment, she was just watching him, her violet eyes calm yet expectant.
"What do you think?" she asked, her voice steady, as if she already knew the answer.
“This stuff… it looks amazin’. Ya really didn’t have to go and do all this for me.”
“I chose to, consider it an investment, if you’d like.”
His shock broke into something more practical as he ran a hand over one of the tunics. “Wait… how’d ya even find clothes in my size?”
Selene’s lips curved, but she only shook her head. “That’s a secret.”
Oswald frowned. “A secret? What’s that supposed to mean—”
Instead of answering, she tilted her head slightly. “Tell me, Oswald… what do you want to do with your life?”
"An adventurer? That's far too simple a goal. Frankly, you could achieve that already, as you are now. Is there nothing greater you wish to accomplish?"
Oswald fell silent, feeling slightly embarrassed by the simplicity of his initial answer. He searched his memories, mind wandering back to darker, colder days spent living in the slums. His heart clenched slightly, remembering a certain tattered poster.
"Actually, for the longest time, I've thought about enterin' the Tournament of Champions. Maybe even winnin' it."
“Now that is a dream worth striving for. However, in your current state, I’m afraid you would scarcely last beyond your first match.”
“Ah, but fighters who compete there are not mere brawlers swinging blindly in the dust. They are seasoned warriors, honed by battle and sharpened by experience. Even the adventurers who enter are typically C-rank or higher.”
"Guess that just means I gotta work harder, right?"
"Precisely. And I'm here to help you reach that goal." Selene said, gesturing toward the box. "Put on your new gear. From here on, I'll prepare you properly to become the adventurer you wish to be."
Oswald nodded, a spark of excitement flaring in his chest. The thought of pushing himself, of getting stronger, set his pulse racing. But just as fast, doubt set in. “But, uh… there’s one problem. Every thirty days, I gotta pay a tribute of souls to my Animus Spirit, or else I'm dead. Dunno how I’m gonna manage that while trainin’ with you.”
"Don't worry yourself about that, Oswald. I'll assist you when the time comes. For now, your priority must lie on more important things."
"If you say so, guess I'll trust ya on this."
"Good. Now, get changed. Your training starts now."