[Outer World]

  Flaring: The basic act of engulfing one's body in Anima, used for empowering and replenishing.

  Coating: Derived by Flaring, it precisely applies Anima to one’s body part or object.

  Masking: Simply hiding one's Anima from untrained senses or those without Eye-Coating. However, it prohibits the usage of Anima.

  Concealing: Derived by Masking, it camouflages one’s Anima to other users, despite the usage of Coating. Allows users to use Anima.

  ***

  The wind blew.

  In and out.

  Perched on a rocky ledge, Lodio sat criss-crossed, hair swaying.

  The flame inside him expanded, flaring before fizzling out. And no matter what he did, he could not get it to expand further. Frustrated, he opened his eyes and stared at the expanding lake or river; he could not tell.

  Levario Pickle.

  That man. That man has to be hunted. Well, they have to hunt. By some miracle, Lodio was accepted into the team. Doubts they had, especially that woman. His nose scrunched.

  Looking down, he stared at his new clothes: a threadbare peasant shirt and new linen pants. Mindlessly, his hand traced his sword’s hilt. The gentleman sword. How much blood has stained his blade?

  Two sides.

  A smirk tugged his lips—not from the exhilarating rush but from the silly words he said days earlier.

  ”Two sides.”

  That line was something his father said. Sort of. Not really. Lodio looked at the hanging sun. It reminded him of his father’s glinting plate earrings. A silver color, signifying his warrior position or something like that. In truth, Lodio did not pay attention.

  He closed his eyes.

  To feel. To taste. To hear.

  The air carried a salty but earthy tinge while playing a tune. Along with the tune, birds flapped and blocked the sun with their expanded wings. Leaves wrestled with each other. His shin dug into the jagged rocks.

  What is father doing?

  He opened his eyes.

  How long has it been? That question repeated in Lodio’s mind like a mantra.

  First a trickle.

  A deep breath.

  Then a current—

  Crack!

  “Heya! We’re leaving.”

  Without a word, Lodio stood and dusted his behind.

  Walking toward them, he pondered how weird they were: no weapons nor supplies. But of course, they had to be Vagabonders… right? They, well, Juless, or ‘Jules,’ as she wanted to be referred to, taught him a neat trick.

  Open [Currency].

  [Currency]

  - Gilds (?): 12,700

  - Gilds are the currency of the tower. Reaching [Floor 20], you could withdraw Gilds to use in the Outer World.

  Lodio stared at the hovering screen. Gilds spent on clothes, food, water, and even in the Outer World. All he had to say was ‘withdraw.’

  Close.

  Now, his mind lingered back to the man: Levario Pickle. From what he was given, Levario was a man with a goatee and small eyes. Don’t forget about his weapon, some new vague invention. Some wall gun knockoff.

  Open [Tower Floor].

  [Tower Floor]

  - Current: 20

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  - Goal: Hunt Levario Pickle (0/1).

  - A reminder: Upon completion, ?9,000 will be divided by three members.

  He stared at the Gilds.

  A big fat nine thousand.

  His heart pumped.

  “You’re not very talkative, are you?”

  Lodio’s gaze snapped toward Juless. “Nothing to talk about.”

  “Like introducing yourself?”

  He paused.

  “Lodio Azhario.”

  Juless blinked a few times before sighing. “Loh-dee-oh… Lodi? Hmmm… I’ll call ya Lodi.”

  Lodio didn’t answer.

  Charlyne, the quiet one next to Juless, finally parted her lips. “Tsk, try to distract him or something. There's a high chance he has Anima. High chance your head will be rolling under the sun.”

  Lodio didn’t respond. Instead, he continued to walk behind them. His gaze was pinned on the dirt.

  Around him breathed life: thick trees, moss, and foliage. Leaves wrestled with each other. Each footstep an announcement: crushed dried leaves, sticks, and the faint death of an ant.

  He looked up.

  Apparently, Juless had a hovering screen that tracked a person’s bounty. She told him it pinged every five minutes.

  When will—

  The wind died.

  Under the thick canopy of leaves, stood him.

  Lodio’s eyes widened.

  His sword ached. His fingers twitched. His breath hitched.

  Standing proud, blood-colored hair danced with the wind. Next to him was a man—too frail—with hollowed cheeks.

  Lodio’s gaze traced down: an open oxblood doublet, exposing their grotesque abs. He wasn’t as thin as he thought, but Valerio’s body was truly ugly. Muscles jutted out as if stretching the skin. Bones followed.

  “Heya! Ya stole our bounty!” Juless called out.

  Valerio stepped aside with a grace, gesturing at the hollowed corpse behind him. “Sorry about that,” his voice steady. “I will give you the reward if you answer one question…” He paused for dramatic effect. “Why do you pursue?”

  “Gilds,” Charlyne answered, stepping forward. “Give us our Gilds, asshole—“

  Phut. Phut. Phut!

  Charlyne jerked back. An apple-sized hole appeared in her stomach. A second, in her chest. A third, lower. She looked down, eyes wide, mouth opening like a fish out of water. Sunlight pierced through the holes, illuminating the black void. No exposed meat, bones, or blood.

  “W-what—“ She stammered, hands clutching air in the holes.

  Lodio tried to flare his Anima but it fizzled out. Pathetic. So pathetic.

  Holes?! That was… how?!

  His eyes darted toward the shimmering haze around Valerio’s body. And around Juless’s outstretched hand, the same distortion.

  “People who pursue Gilds are scum. I, Diosi, will take your Anima for you to not intend harm,” Valerio declared flatly, his lips losing that smile.

  For a moment, Juless and Valerio stood still. But from what Lodio could tell, they were fighting. His eyes flickered toward Juless’s now translucent forearm.

  Anima?

  “Strings? Interesting,” Valerio mused, his gaze catching the glint.

  “How are ya doing that?!” Juless demanded. “?!”

  A slow smile appeared on Valerio’s face. “Precisely!” Then he moved. An unhurried saunter. Each step pronounced: a twig, the earth.

  Lodio moved before he could think. “Watch out! He can steal Anima! I saw it with my own eyes!” The warning waned.

  Valerio stopped. His head snapped toward Lodio, the smile never fading. “Oh? You are?” A pause. “Ah, you must’ve been the one at the coliseum.”

  Scoffing, Lodio unsheathed his sword, the blade glinting under the intruding sunlight.

  “In a state of depletion, I see. Then you must’ve been the one unleashing that floral—“ Valerio’s word cut off as his attention snapped back to Juless. He resumed his walk.

  Dashing back, Juless panted, sweat trailing down her face. Her other hand was up, fingers curling like a claw, the translucence spread to her fingertips. Weaving something.

  “Well, I can’t handle three people, can I?” Valerio sighed.

  His finger tugged to himself.

  Juless was yanked, snatched, hooked toward Valerio.

  Thwack!

  Her head snapped sideways.

  Thwack!

  The other way.

  Thwack!

  Her face smashed into the ground.

  She did not move. Blood pooled underneath.

  “JULESS!” A scream tore from Charlyne’s throat. “YOU B-BASTARD!” Despite the holes in her torso, she lunged forward, air whistling through them like a grotesque harmony. Her hands were now translucent, air vibrating furiously.

  “Strings too? How… mundane.”

  Valerio snapped his fingers.

  The left side of Charlyne’s face ceased to exist. From her temple to her jaw, a smooth, crescent-shaped hole took root. No blood, bones, or flesh. A black void. She staggered, her remaining eye widening.

  Thwack!

  She, too, was brought down.

  “Now,” Valerio turned to Lodio, brushing imaginary dust from his doublet. “You. Surrender, and I’ll guarantee your death to be painless.” An offer.

  Gritting his teeth, Lodio lunged forward, blade coming down in an arc.

  “Foolish!”

  Thwack!

  His gut ceased.

  Thwack!

  Face smashed into the dirt.

  The taste of soil filled his mouth. He pushed up, hands and arms moving violently, blood pouring from his nose like a cascade. It seeped into the greedy earth.

  “I offered you mercy,” Valerio scoffed, placing his leather boot on Lodio’s cheeks, grinding him into the dirt. “And you dare rej—“

  He froze.

  His joints locked. His head wrenched back, spine arching. “W-what?!” His confidence shattered into a million pieces.

  Besides Valerio’s leg, Lodio saw it. Charlyne was half-propped on a shaking elbow. Her translucent hand aimed at Valerio, fingers clawing like a puppeteer. Blood marked her cheeks like war paint.

  “Asshole!”

  And Valerio came apart.

  Razor-thin lines suddenly lined themselves across his body and clothes. For a fraction of a second, he stood bloodless. Then blood. It jetted, painting the rocks, the leaves, and Lodio’s face in a warm, copper rain.

  “G-gah! Ahh… ahhh! Hah! M-my b-body!” He stared at his intersecting razor-thin cuts. Shimmering haze burst from the intersections. A faint distortion. And without a word, he bolted away, blood trailing like a snail.

  “No you don’t!”

  SNICK!

  “G-gahhh! Ahh!”

  From Valerio’s calf, blood spurted in a net-like pattern. He screamed as he stumbled like a drunken fool. Catching himself on a tree, he left a bloody handprint. Did not look back. He ran. Ran, he did. His limp leg dragged uselessly.

  Again, Lodio pushed himself up, arms wobbling. His gaze drifted toward Charlyne’s returning body. The shimmering haze entered and swirled inside the holes, stitching themselves together. But, then, a swirling haze warped around him. And slowly, it entered his body.

  FSHHH!

  Flared.

  Lodio stared.

  How?

  Something stirred inside him: that fiery feeling. But that feeling fizzled out as his gaze darted toward Juless’s twitching body—Charlyne hovered over her. His legs moved before his mind, arriving at the body.

  “I got this.” Crouching, Lodio’s hand hovered over rolled-over Juless. He stared at the open wounds, blood spurting pathetically.

  In and out.

  Vines stitched the wounds.

  The wind blew under the thick lead shadows.

  Scent of copper.