Reaching level fifty had granted Ebube an interesting enough manifesting skill. King Oyedi had said that his manifesting skill had been gained in a different manner from what was common—a special manner.

Apparently, people struggled to get into level fifty, with men and women spending their entire lives stuck at level forty-nine. Those that eventually got to level fifty usually had to struggle for it, achieving the skill necessary in different ways, most of them life-and-death situations.

Ebube had gone to sleep and woken up one day with level fifty in front of him. The night before, he had gone to sleep thinking of what kind of skill would be fitting for him as a manifesting skill. He had the [Guide] class, a class popular for helping in guiding people to destinations or, in some cases, greatness.

A proper [Guide] led others and even had the chance to evolve into something called a [Protector]. In fact, the holders of the [Guide] class that had evolved it into [Protector] were often important members of history. They stood next to kings and [Hero]s according to King Oyedi.

So, Ebube's manifesting skill would've been best if it helped others. It was not.

King Oyedi attributed how easily he'd reached the point to his intelligence and lack of distracting emotions. The king had told him on more than one occasion that his lack of emotion was what made him a powerful fighter and person. Anytime the king asked how he became the way he was, Ebube always said that he was born quiet of emotions.

It was a lie. The truth was a harsher thing. He had parents so strict that they took the portion of the bible that said 'spare the rod and spoil the child' too literally. Anytime he made a mistake, he was beaten with a rod or stick or hand, and he had been an overactive child always getting himself into problems he would say were often life-changing. So, the 'rod' was often used in life-changing ways.

His parents didn't hate him, at least he didn't think so. They were loving, filled with smiles and laughter, they gave him kisses and hugged him and tucked him in bed at night. He rarely ever lacked what he wanted, and his parents only said no when he asked for the extravagant. Ebube believed that it was normal. You gave your children most of what they wanted but not everything they wanted, lest you spoil them.

Every moment was a reward until he caused a problem. The result of his problems was a measured out beating. His parents punished him without anger or rage. They chose a punishment and meted it out and that was all there was to it. Ebube had never thought them truly abusive.

One day, he couldn't even remember when or how, he'd discovered that he'd grown to hate his parents, and no child should hate their parents. Knowing this, he did his best not to hate his parents, so he tried not to hate them because he knew that he could not love them.

Then, similarly, one day, he couldn't remember when or how, he discovered that he had grown to feel nothing for them. Feeling nothing for his parents had grown to feeling nothing for others. Feeling nothing for others had grown to feeling nothing at all. Then the world had become boring and he had become bored. All this happened before the age of ten.

Then he was snatched from a chemistry lecture in the middle of the day and brought to a world more interesting than Earth. Here, he did things and was called a genius for them.

Still, despite his own method of reaching level fifty, he had been privy to watching someone else reach level fifty on two different occasions. He knew the look, the realization.

He knew it when he saw it in the eyes of the boy his age standing in front of him and his guards.

His manifesting skill had an active and passive effects. Its passive effect showed him drastic changes to things. When the boy who, against all odds, had survived his and his guards' attacks, doing the impossible task of even harming them—a task he had failed to accomplish on multiple occasions—created space between him and them, Ebube had waited, taking his time to catch his own breath.

He had injuries all over his body. If not for the guards doing their duty of interfering with strikes that would've proven fatal, Ebube would've been dead. He couldn't count how many times the guards had prevented him from losing an arm or his head in this fight.

Funny enough, what worried Ebube was not the fact that their opponent was so skilled, it was the fact that he was from Earth and was so skilled.

Having to deal with this was slowly growing annoying. After days of befriending the lady and her brother, putting up with her brother's annoying and childish rants, he had finally come to take them away from this place.

Ebube could not understand why they had not understood that he was helping them. He had made the girl, Feira, smile and laugh for the past few days. He had made her happy. He had shown her that he cared. Not so many people who go to such lengths for a simple woman of too little importance.

How had she not understood that he was saving her? She had tried to fight against him, a slave defying their master simply because of their master's good will. She had thought herself beyond her station, beyond her importance. He had known then that it had been his fault.

He had taken Oyedi's advice and had sought to 'conquer' her in the way the man had claimed a woman should be conquered. But she had not been deserving of it. She did not understand that, regardless of how it was done, to be conquered was to be conquered.

Then she had heard of the war, about what was to happen to her little town, then she had called him a monster. The words had been a spit in his face. He had gone out of his way to show her all the good that she could enjoy, and she had taken it for granted.

He had made up his mind then. He would take her and her brother by force. Then when the war was over, he would take her in his accommodation by force. Oyedi would not hear of it, though. He knew how the king felt about men who took women by force. He would not kill Ebube, but he would see Ebube as weak. He would not understand that it was not weakness. It was simply an establishment of hierarchy. As such, he would withdraw the benefits he had given Ebube so far.

Now, here he was, having to deal with some pompous lord, who was either from Earth or knew somebody from Earth.

It did not matter. They would kill the boy here, then he would kill his companions and claim Freira for his own. Willing or unwilling, she would bow and understand that she now belonged to him. He had claimed her, and she was his by right.

Wait for me.

In the lull in their fight, the boy raised his bleeding hand, the one that one of the guards had run a spear through. His blood dripped to the ground, staining it crimson while the battle raged beyond the house, reaching its short crescendo.

For a moment, the boy's expression changed. He looked confused, then slightly annoyed. Then he suddenly looked determined, understanding crossing his eyes. He had also stopped mumbling the words he'd been using throughout the fight.

Ebube worried when he saw the understanding in the boy's eyes and used the [Detect] skill on him.

[Aiden Lacheart—Weaver—Lvl 49]

"You can't be…" Ebube muttered, words trailing off as the boy, Aiden, met his gaze—a reaction from feeling the [Detect] skill.

The boy had survived this long in a fight against all of them when he was at least fifteen levels weaker than the weakest of them.

Ebube's frown deepened as his manifesting skill's passive effect kicked in. It showed drastic changes in threats and wasn't confined to level differences. Life was normal until something changed.

Aiden Lacheart moved from a simple devastating boy in front of Ebube, to a threat capable of ending his life in a single blow. In the darkness of the night, amidst all the lights of the house and the battle outside, Aiden Lacheart shone a deep, yet impossibly bright, black.

"Level forty-nine," Ebube muttered, eyes growing wide in realization of Aiden's expression. He turned to the others and roared: "STOP HIM!"

The guards did not hesitate, not even the one with his intestines threatening to fall out of his stomach. They leapt forward as usual, spears held out in promise of violence.

Then the world fell quiet.

[Mana 78%]

[Mana 62%]

[Mana 65%]

…

[You have been afflicted by a Manifesting Skill]

[Manifesting skill has inflicted debuff Mana fluctuation]

[Your mana stat is in a state of instability]

[All ambient skill desired effect will vary]

[All Enchantment of Lesser effects are reduced by 50%]

[All Enchantment effects are reduced by 25%]

In front of Ebube, Aiden moved quickly. His hands clapped together in the blink of an eye, completing the action before the guards could stop him as they usually had throughout the fight.

The first spear attack missed Aiden's neck by an inch. Aiden was faster now, but his survival so far hadn't been based on his speed. Ebube knew enough to understand that everything Aiden had done to survive had been skill-based. He placed himself in positions that made him difficult to attack with a spear or difficult to pin down. Every offense was a defense. Striking one guard was done in the process of avoiding a second guard while putting himself in a position that left a third guard unable to attack without the risk of attacking another guard.

It was a great show of skill.

Now, he had added an increased speed to the skill. The outcome was expected.

Aiden guided the spear to the side with an open palm, spun away from the guard, pushed off the man's side, and went for another guard. The new guard met him with a spear thrust, bending awkwardly at the waist. As if in anticipation, Aiden moved, vaulting over him seamlessly. He dropped to the ground and rolled straight into the third guard's leg. The entire process was so smooth that it could've been choreographed.

At the end of the entire process two guards remained standing while the guard he had rolled into was knocked off balance, falling to the ground.

In one smooth motion, Aiden was back on his feet, his sword buried in the neck of the guard he'd dropped.

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He looked up at the remaining two guards, ignoring Ebube. His expression was empty, and Ebube couldn't make out the color of his eyes. Then Aiden spoke, and it was with two voices: one human, and the other otherworldly. It was like listening to the voice of something that should not be able to create actual words.

"Next!"

…

Ted felt the wash of familiar mana go over him. It was strong, filling even his lungs with the air he breathed in. Blanketing the entire space, it gave weight to the air. Thick as it was, it felt like standing in a cloud of smoke or a swamp so misty that you couldn't see your hand in front of you.

[You have been affected by a Manifesting Skill]

[You have been designated as an Ally]

[Manifesting skill has applied buff Mana Stability]

[All skill mana requirement is reduced by 10%]

…

[Manifesting skill has applied buff Enchanter]

[Mana requirement for all enchantments is reduced by 5%]

[Efficiency of enchantments used is increased by 7%]

…

[Manifesting skill mana affinity detected]

[Mana stat increase gained due to mana affinity]

…

[Mana 92%]

[Mana 93%]

[Mana 94%]

Those were a lot of benefits from a manifesting skill as far as Ted was concerned. It seemed like Aiden had earned a support manifesting skill. Either that, or he had earned a manifesting skill with these support features as side effects. If that was the case, then Aiden had earned something truly terrifying.

Ted could only imagine the benefits Aiden got from the skill.

Still, there was a point of worry in it all.

With everything Aiden had told him about his past life and how he had become the [Demon King], Ted knew a few things that he believed most did not. The mana he was feeling now was the same with the one he had felt from Aiden's arm when they had fought in the forest. When Aiden's arm had gone completely red, Ted had sensed a mana similar to his own, similar to the mana he had felt when he'd summoned the [Basiliker] he'd met at the town with the cannibals.

It was similar to the mana that came from [Gates of Hell], only seemingly more concentrated.

What he felt now was an adulterated form of it, but still the same. It left Ted with only one reaction.

"Oh God," he said, worried, "what have you done, Aida?"

The sound of the battle around him had gone dull but it did not mean that the battle had ended or stopped. The sound of a scream pierced Ted's distraction, and he turned.

The person they were here for pulled the lady with him to the side, saving her from a brown skill that exploded against the ground, sending up chunks of dirt. Ted pointed at the source of the skill—a man in a black gambeson, likely designed to make him harder to spot in the night.

A serpentine creature as wide as a man shot out of nowhere and bit the man's head off.

Ted turned to the side, to the men gathering to them. They were outnumbered, maybe even outclassed. Survival was beginning to look impossible while Fjord struggled to stay safe and keep the jepats at bay.

Fjord or Zen, Ted thought, wondering who to give priority to. He looked at Zen and the lady he was with. Women and children first.

Zen was a man, but he was with a woman.

The air shimmered just before Ted could act, and he caught a burst of yellow light crackling with the chaos of lightning.

Eight swords of golden light crackled with lightning above Valdan's head.

Maybe we can save them all, Ted thought, knowing that it was what Aiden would've wanted. Maybe no one has to die.

[You have used Manifesting skill Gates of Hell]

Ted felt the pull of power that came with the skill. His mana rose more than what standing within the reach of Aiden's manifesting skill had done. It clocked out at a hundred percent and stayed there.

He felt the world darken around him. The weight of the summoned coming into the present world pricked the back of his neck. It was a familiar feeling, like coming back home to a comfortable house. Knowing what he knew now, however, the feeling only served to worry him. Elkan, the wolf with one eye and a horn protruding from where a second eye should be, walked out of the darkness beside him.

Off to the side, standing next to their jepats, Fjord shrank away slightly. Ted wondered how long it would take for Fjord to stop being afraid of him. He would've loved to talk it out with him, but it just didn't seem right having the source of your fear talk to you about why you should stop being afraid of it after giving you reasons to be afraid of it.

As the other summoned crawled out of the darkness, picking their foes, Ted felt something new. He turned his head off toward the distance, a place that hovered just at the edge of the reach of his manifesting skill.

A frown marred his forehead as he watched a summoned fully outfitted in a knight's armor claw its way out of the darkness. Its helmet had a broken horn protruding from the left and an injury on the right where a second horn should've been. Its armor was a filthy white, as if someone had taken the cleanest white and washed it in nothing but mud. On its hip was a sword red as lava at the heart of a volcano.

The summoned creature clawed its way out of the darkness, completely humanoid, and stood amidst the chaos of the battle. It turned its head one way, then the other while people fought around it and summoned creatures gnawed off the heads of their enemies.

In the end, its head stopped moving.

Ted watched the creature with only one thought in mind.

What the hell is that?

He did not know it. He did not feel it. And it did not bring with it a sense of familiarity. It was not under his control.

I guess it doesn't matter as long as it's on our side.

The creature's head snapped suddenly, focusing on one location—the house Aiden was currently in.

Ted paled.

You just had to jinx it.

Something told him that the creature was not here to help.

…

Valdan frowned at the yellow blades. He ducked an attack and moved to strike, slipping once more under a gust of fire. He brought his sword in an upward slash, cleaving the man in front of him in two. A good distance away, an apparition of a golden sword with electricity running through it performed an upward slash of its own, cutting through a woman who'd just killed a child.

The sword passed through her but did not kill her as the real one in Valdan's hand had done to the man before him. Still, the woman cried out in sudden pain, staggering back as if she had taken damage.

Valdan frowned, not at the woman's survival but at the traces of darkness that were tainting the swords born from his manifesting skill, [Knight's Judgement].

What exactly has Aiden gotten himself into?

He spun almost immediately, slapping aside a man's outstretched hand. It was hot to the touch, almost burning him. The hand glowed orange and the man spun in his attack, reaching out with his other hand. Valdan stepped back, avoiding the hand and followed up with a stab to the man's stomach. The blow connected seamlessly.

[You have slain Jackat Lvl 44!]

[Congratulations! You have Leveled Up!]

[You are now Level 63!]

[Level 62---> Level 63]

Valdan ignored the notification and darted in the direction of the woman his manifesting skill had not killed. He swung his blade to the side as he ran. A sword apparition came to life, slicing a path through an enemy's neck. The man grabbed his neck and choked as he doubled over in pain. He did not die.

Ignoring him, Valdan covered the remaining distance between him and the woman that was his target in a quick dash.

[Aiden Lacheart has used Weave of Lesser Void Speed]

[You have been designated as an Ally]

[You are under the effect of Enchantment of Lesser Void Speed]

[Effect: 60% increase in movement speed]

[Duration: 00:01:30]

Valdan pulled himself to a quick stop, shooting past his target by at least four steps. His halt raised dust, and he turned. His body adjusted to his new speed quickly, and he swung his sword in a simple arc.

[You have used Class skill Aura Strike]

A blast of yellow mana shot forward in an arc, slamming into the woman's back. Blood erupted from her back, and she screamed in her pain. When she turned to face Valdan, it was only to accept the tip of his sword as it pierced her neck.

[You have slain Falcor Lvl 51]

Valdan withdrew his blade simply and moved on.

…

Ebube paled.

He had never seen someone dispatch the king's guards so easily before. Even Oyedi claimed that they were a force to reckon with. They wouldn't last in a fight against Oyedi, but that was because these guards were weaker than him.

But this…

Ebube could not remember the last time he had felt fear. Not even when he'd been snatched from Earth and had woken up in a strange world with people who barely spoke English properly.

But here was a boy who had just reached level fifty, and the first thing he had done was weave his way past two of the king's guards as if they were nothing to kill a third as if he was nothing.

Now he was staring the others down, demanding for a follow-up as if they did not matter. Then, as if he hadn't experienced enough surprises already, the remaining two guards did something that they were not supposed to be able to do.

Oyedi had told Ebube that the reason the steel-boned were special and few was not just because of how painful and special the process of creating them was. It was also because of the cost of becoming them. In exchange for enhanced physical prowess and bones of steel, they sacrificed their skills. A steel-boned did not have skills.

Every skill they gained was sacrificed automatically for greater strength to their bones.

The remaining king's guards stepped away from Aiden and the first stabbed his spear into the ground. He sucked in a deep breath, as if preparing himself, then the most grotesque thing happened. Metal spikes erupted from his skin. They jutted out from every joint, some poking out of random points in his skin. Three erupted from his forehead like horns and one from his jaw.

Each spike erupted from their skin roughly. They did not slowly slip out or crawl out from some orifice. They shot out, tearing through skin and tissue, bloody and terrifying things. Ebube understood why the man had taken in a deep breath to prepare himself.

The second man's action was equally similar in how painful it looked. But where his companion had spikes, his was different. It was as if he had a second spine that tore out of his back. It stretched out behind him, hovering over his head like a scorpion's stinger.

Aiden cocked his head to the side in response. "So that's what your manifesting skill looks like."

If they bothered him, he showed no sign of it. Only amusement marred his feature. He was suddenly like an adult staring down two children with sharp toys. To him, they were dangerous, but not deadly.

Ebube would've liked to help, but he knew better than to join in. He would be more useful leaving the house and fighting in the battle going on out there than in here.

"Alright then," Aiden muttered. When he moved his hand, however, a trail of gold followed the fingers of the hand that was red, like sparks of light.

The line of gold exploded in small sparks when his hands came together. It was nothing serious and it made Aiden frown for only a moment.

It was all the moment of distraction the king's guards needed. They burst forth like animals. The man with the stinger charged on all fours. Aiden's brows furrowed in concentration. His hands met, and the air exploded in sparks around him.

The man on all fours was forced to dart out of the way, slipping to the side. The man with bloody spikes jutting out from all over his body jumped straight into the sparks, shielding his face with raised arms.

Aiden met him with a swinging sword. His feet moved gracefully along the ground. He slipped past spinning spikes and irregular strikes. His sword came up now and again, deflecting the man's spikes and sending sparks all over the place.

The entire house was oddly quiet. The sound of battle in the distance that had once been loud and encompassing was now nothing but a dull muffle in the distance, like something happening too far away.

Only the sounds of iron bones and steel clashing filled the air.

Aiden's eyes moved in his sockets as he ducked a swinging arm. Ebube followed the action a little too late as the scorpion-like guard struck from out of nowhere. Aiden switched the angle of his sword so that when the stinger struck, he deflected the blow with the hilt of his sword.

Turning away from both guards, he spun, the hem of his coat billowing about to conceal his actions. Two items shot out from him as he came to a stop.

The guards ducked each one, experience from the beginning of the fight guiding them. A sudden explosion of light filled the room, blinding Ebube for a moment. He turned his eyes from it, feeling a wave of heat that forced him a few steps back.

When the light was gone, Aiden had one of the guards pinned to the wall by his sword. It ran the man with a scorpion-like stinger through the shoulder, keeping him firmly attached to the wall.

He turned away from the guard immediately and met the second guard with the countless spikes head-on. And unarmed.

Aiden weaved and ducked, evading the man's flurry of strikes and combos. For the first time in a long while, Ebube saw expressions cross the face of the guards. He read annoyance on the one pinned to the wall and anger on the one engaged in unarmed combat with Aiden.

Suddenly, Aiden executed a nigh-perfect pirouette. It carried him behind the guard who turned with a swinging punch. Aiden ducked under the blow and came up with outstretched palms. His hands slapped against the sides of two spikes and sent the man staggering away from him.

As if it was all part of his plan, Aiden clapped his hands together, moving so fast that Ebube almost didn't see the hands meet.

[Enemy has used Enchantment of Lesser Lightning]

[You are under the effect of Enchantment of Lesser Lightning]

[You suffer the chance of being electrocuted]

Lightning streaked through the house. It filled the air, striking randomly. A streak missed Ebube by a hair's breadth, and he understood what was happening now.

Ebube stood right at the heart of a thunderstorm created by an enchantment activated without a tool. No. More aptly, it was an enchantment activated with a living person as the tool. The man before him, by himself, was a walking breathing enchantment—a living enchantment.

And because of him, Ebube stood within a thunderstorm and suffered a chance of being struck by lightning.

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