The corpse in front Kyle shines brightly for a moment. The light reaches an apex, before suddenly completely going black. Once the light fades a small pencil bag sized leather pouch appears seamlessly on the ground.

  Kyle doesn’t notice. Locked into a staring contest with the barrel of his gun. His mind went blank. If he was being honest with himself it was probably actually a good thing his uncle took away most of his parent’s weaponry. “I hate my life. I want to die.” He couldn’t hear his own voice, but the words sank in regardless. With another sigh he breaks his gaze away from the device of destruction.

  “Fuck I really hope I don’t get tinnitus that would suck.” Kyle stumbles to his feet. Of the many adjectives to describe him under normal circumstances nimble and quick aren’t apt. Now with a large welt on his left shin and dust filled scrap on his right knee, he is laughably slow. He lets out a loud groan and languidly looks around.

  “Hey where the fuck did that beast go!” He nearly shouts at first, but as the fear sets in his voice trembles with panic. He rushes over to the dropped pistol, each jogged step feels like hell on his knee.

  He tries to grab the run, squat up and turn around like an action movie hero. Instead after roughly kneeling to the floor and floundering around to grab the gun he fails at the squating up part

  “Ah shit” he smacks back down to the floor and quickly crawls his back to the wall staring at where the monsters used to be. It takes him at least a minute to notice the pouch on the ground. “What the”

  Forcing his haggard body over to the pouch he leans down to pick it up. It’s small enough he easily wraps each of his fingers around it. Lifting with his back and not his knees, Kyle tries to stand up. Yet again he fails, pulling a muscle in his back, forcing him back on the floor

  “Ahh what the hell does that bag weigh as much as that full lizard thing?” He tried kicking the bag in frustration. To his surprise the bag fully deformed to the shape of his foot. It kept the resistance of thick leather, but apart from that it seems empty. It didn’t slide across the floor, it stayed exactly where it was as if the body of the bag was welded to the ground.

  “Okay one more try” Kyle tries picking up the bag, but it doesn’t budge. The sides of the bag move around, but the bottom stays put. “Fuck it” He opens the bag to see what is making it so heavy. As he undoes the knot formed of thin leather fabric the bag opens slightly. The inside is jet black almost consuming the surrounding light. The moment a finger of his passes through the boundary of the bag opening another menu flashes in front of Kyle’s face.

  ******

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  “Finally!!!!” Jisseppi cheered. The past 8 hours have been boring, but very informative. Ducking behind a large boulder a yard from the shallow end of the lake to check his stat screen. Everything he’s learned about the nature of skills was so difficult to understand and feel in practice since when he trained his dagger skill since it went up so incrementally he hardly noticed a difference, but getting 5 levels in one day made it crystal clear just how impactful each level was.

  It’s not as though he’s able to completely erase his existence, but as he earned each level he noticed the extra leeway he had with his concentration, the effort required decreasing. He had an almost preternatural sense of his stealth and he could feel with each level that he could get closer and make more noise without getting caught.

  He worked up the courage to practically boop a froghemoth runt right on the tail. Sure he chose the smallest, weakest one he could find, but compared to the start he was making big progress in a lot more that just skill level.

  *Alrighty time to head back home* He thinks to himself. Carefully, with stealth still active he starts scampering towards the narrow tunnel he came from.

  “Grooooak” The neck of a massive froghemoth inflates, expanding to block the tunnel exit with each territorial croak. *Oh crap* Jisseppi’s grip on his dagger tightens. *should I just wait it out… Fuck no I can’t wait I need to get back home before night time.* Flashes of the truly scary troglodytes that come out at night flash in his eyes.

  *Is it worth taking a risk with stealth? I mean I was able to get close enough to the last one, but if it croaks as I walk past and its neck brushes against me I’m not sure if my F-rank stealth would be enough.* Jisseppi grits his teeth. The day of victory emboldening him he persists.

  With a tentative step forward Jesseppi’s foot hits the ground. The sound amplified by his focus and nerves making him shudder. He pauses waiting a full minute before edging forward.

  ******

  Grimwoli would have liked the situation to end without violence, but that was mainly because he enjoyed playing the role of the civilised diplomat. He relishes any opportunity to act smarter than those around him, especially in front of the brute types like Harkell. However after the large max swiftly slew the group of six presumably non combatants the only emotion he could muster amounted to “Harkell you boorish oaf, why do always rush into violence”

  Back in his hut with only his best apprentice to accompany him, Grimwoli sits tinkering with a silver goblet. A thick red and black liquid drips from a vial he took out of his sleeve. “Gumphrey, have you leveled your eavesdrop spell to E-rank yet.” He asks with an impatient tone.

  Grimwoli has known Harkell has been vying for his spot since he became mayor. Most of this mana everyday since has been spent casting eavesdrops outside the Harkell Hall whenever the trio of idiots gather. That of course means he hardly has enough reserves to actually get in the training he used to.

  Gumphrey juts his head to face his master. At attention, with a nervous demeanor he replies “No sir. Sorry. I just. I’ve been” He struggles to maintain eye contact with his master, his matted green hair swaying to help cover his eyes he continues “I’ve been really busy sir. I promise I’ll”

  With his skill still at F-rank he’ll only have 30 feet with the spells no matter how proficient he becomes at controlling it. The higher level will help him with the clarity of what he hears and the volumes he can pick up, but nothing but rank can increase the range.

  “Excuses will only get you so far, Gumphrey I expected more from you.” He tilts his head back and opens his mouth wide exposing the crusty brown and yellow teeth that fill his mouth. Quickly emptying the silver chalice into his mouth he continues “I can assume you’ve been busy doing something that benefits you, before learning what seems like a useless spell, correct?” He clears his throat. The thick sticky substance he just downed coating his esophagus in an annoying goop, but used to it the man keeps talking

  “You need to understand in the long run what benefits me will ultimately help you.” Grimwoli sets the chalice down and places his small hand on his apprentices shoulder “Quit being selfish, follow like a good sheep and you’ll obtain true power”