Chapter 113 - TFF (Patreon)

An additional effect has been unlocked in your Title: Friend of the Spirit World

Title: Friend of the Spirit World

You have met a powerful being from the Spirit World and lived to cherish the memory. For better or for worse that experience has left its mark on you.

Spirits can sense the title and will treat you accordingly.

Spirits can contact you during important choices and offer trade or guidance. Why should you be limited to what the System deems fit when you have friends in strange places?

It was a vague description, somewhat ominous, and very worrying. And as Alan read the message the world froze. No, it folded upon itself until it was gone and Alan was alone in a strange place filled with whirling mists.

You have been contacted by a Spirit.

There was a fat man before him. His skin was blue and wavy, ceaselessly rippling like the surface of the sea when there was a soft breeze. His face was plump and stretched in a smile that revealed sharp teeth and two tusks. Eyes like the darkest depths of the ocean stared through Alan like they could see everything inside of him.

The man’s lower body was comically skinny and made him look like a caricature of himself. Thankfully, he was sitting in a large soft chair of green and blue. There was a fishing rod without a cord in one of the man’s hands. The man examined Alan and Alan examined the man. Alan was not sure what was happening apart from the fact that he was standing before a spirit—the second one in his life.

“Mmm, a friend? And a human at that? Interesting.” The man said then looked around the vast emptiness as if he had forgotten something. “Why do you smell of the void, if you are a friend?”

Alan looked around, hoping that there were some space-time shenanigans going on and Byrr and Feyrith were not looking for him. It would be hell to explain this… whatever it was.

“I was on a fractal… Void Tree fractal, before you, uhh, contacted me,” Alan said.

The man avoided looking at Alan, instead staring at the mists. His actions were making Alan nervous and he too started staring at the mists all around. Was there danger?

“I didn’t contact you. Your mark requested services, and so here I am, answering the call,” the spirit said. “I am one you can call Odu, little witch, and I trade when I am not resting or eating.”

Little witch? The fuck? No, I better tread carefully. Spirits are scary.

“Pleasure to meet you, Odu. What do you want to trade?”

“Hmm. So young, so weak. Let me see.”

Odu’s eyes became deep chasms as for the first time his whole attention was focused on Alan.

“You offer me the path of a [Shadow Warlock], yes?”

What? It is not mine to offer! I haven’t even picked it!

Alan took a breath and composed himself. “Can you please explain a bit more? How can I offer what is not mine?”

The mists churned and grew darker and darker until they became an ocean. Odu’s large face was frozen in a frown and his eyes were like thunderclouds waiting to let go of the charge inside. Alan didn’t feel in danger though.

“A friend, a friend,”he repeated a few times. “You have a choice. It is yours, and yours alone. You will trade that choice to me; in return, I will give you something of equal value. Not a path, I own none suitable for you. After our deal, I will own one.”

Alan took a few moments to comprehend the words of the strange spirit. He was struggling to understand how a choice that he hadn’t made, a path that he hadn’t stepped on, could be traded away. Were there drawbacks? What could be offered that could rival a class specialization? And what would a spirit do with it?

“What is your offer?”

“Ah!” Odu started looking around again, and his hands got busy. The fishing rod was nowhere to be found, strangely. He struggled as he reached into… the nothing, and pulled out a bag from the mists or it would be more appropriate to call it a sack. A patched, worn, dripping wet sack. He rummaged inside for a while, muttering something.

Alan felt things becoming weirder and weirder by the second. This was much different than his experience with Thorn. He used the time to look around some more, but there were only infinite mists to stare at. Even the ground beneath his feet was covered in mists and he couldn’t see his boots.

“I have…” he pulled out a strange wooden horse from his bag and threw it carelessly toward Alan, who ducked on reflex. The horse floated in place between the two of them, instead of flying past Alan. It was just that… a toy worn from play.

“And this…” The next item was even stranger as it was just a piece of string with a rusty dull needle at the end. Was the spirit fucking with him or was this another cultural facet of this whole System bullshit Alan didn’t understand? Try as he may Alan couldn’t feel a single fluctuation of mana from either of the items. He couldn’t sense anything from the fat man either.

“And, for my third offer…” he took out a worn leatherbound book from his sack and let it float gently.

There was a proud smile on Odu’s face as he watched the three objects. Alan was baffled but decided to play along.

“So, what do these do?” he decided to ask, making Odu turn toward him once again.

“A horse runs, a string ties, a book changes. All grow,” Odu replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The depths have many lost treasures, but the path you offer is weak and so, my offer is weak.”

Weak enough to offer me garbage someone had thrown away? Alan frowned in confusion. It couldn’t be. A title given by Thorn was anything but simple, but he didn’t know much else about the spirits. Were they liars? They were certainly dangerous at the very least.

Maybe it is all a riddle? A horse runs… well yeah, they do that. A string ties… it’s just a tiny piece of goddamn string, what can it tie?! The book makes the most sense when it comes to hidden meanings. Knowledge makes people change and grow… fuck. This is bullshit.

Alan wished he had Xil with him, but then again this spirit might not be as tolerant of demons as Thorn had been.

“Hm. I forgot humans always doubt us.” Odu huffed.

Is this a trick too? This is making me paranoid…

“All right,” Alan finally said. There was no use protracting this. “I will give you my opportunity to choose… in return, I will take the book.”

“Good friend. So be it.”

Odu’s deep eyes looked to the side and his hand extended toward Alan, grabbing something out of thin air. Alan felt a strange feeling pass through him, but other than that he felt the same. No new System messages were coming either. The offer for picking a specialization was gone though.

The book slowly landed in his hand.

“Ow.” As soon as he touched it a wound appeared on his palm, where the cover had made contact with his skin. Blood quickly poured out and disappeared into the leather, without leaving a wet spot. Then his wound closed and the cover’s color started changing until it was a dark gray, verging on blue or purple. A single mirror-like mark appeared on the front of the cover, reflecting only churning mists. The book still looked worn out and old, but it was much more pleasant to look at for some reason.

You have successfully bonded with the spirit item: Tome of Cultivating Skills (Unique)

Tome of Cultivating Skills (Unique)

An item made long ago by a madman, who deemed it defective and threw it away in a strange sea. It found its way to the enigmatic spirit tinker Odu of the Wavy Mists. The Tome has taken some of the characteristics of the waters it has spent years forgotten in.

The Tome can store skills, letting them grow stronger and changing them to better fit its nature.

The number of pages taken by a single skill depends on its complexity and strength.

To store a skill, cast it on one of the pages.

Current skills held: 2

Pages: 21/30

Current casts of ??? left: 0

Current casts of ??? left: 0

Feed skill crystals to the Tome to make it grow.

Provide mana to charge the skills.

Alan looked at the book flabbergasted. This was a treasure. He was not sure it was worth trading the choice he was offered for it, but considering that he was leaning toward avoiding specializations even if they would give him an immediate boost, it was probably a good deal. And the item had the potential to grow, something he hadn’t seen before. The price of growth was steep, but possibly manageable one day.

The two skills currently held in it took 21 of its 30 pages and were the most intriguing part about it. Alan opened the tome and was greeted with thick yellowed pages filled with strange intertwining runes and symbols that made zero sense to him. They rolled like the waves of an angry sea, large and threatening. Looking at them made something deep inside of him grow restless.

He slowly turned the pages until the script changed. The symbols became jagged and sharp, cutting off suddenly only to continue as if someone had written the script with a sword or a dagger. Looking at the second type almost made him angry.

The first type took about 7 of the pages, while the second took a whole 14.

“Focus. It is one with you now.” Odu’s voice came unexpectedly, as if from far away. Alan had almost forgotten the spirit was in front of him.

He closed his eyes and focused on the feel of the book in his hand. There was a strong connection, a tether that connected him and the mysterious item. Soon the names of the two skills appeared in his mind like whispered words.

Mountainbreaker Waves, and Hateful Sea Cut.

The names also appeared in the Tome’s System description, but no more information followed no matter how much Alan tried. He had no baseline to know how pages corresponded to power so he carefully opened the book and touched a blank page, casting [Shadow Slash] with his finger.

Words, lines, and symbols appeared. They were somewhat sharp, but also difficult to see as flowing shadows in a dim room. He had to strain to make them out and realized with surprise that he could understand them. Not as words, but as meaning. It was his skill and he knew it intimately by now.

“Satisfied?” Odu asked.

Alan nodded without lifting his gaze from the book. If he had the presence of mind he would be surprised that the spirit was still sticking around and making sure that Alan was satisfied with the trade. However, his current focus was solely taken by the fact that [Shadow Slash] had taken only a single page.

“Do you want to trade more?” The spirit asked. There was something strange in his voice.

“Huh?” Alan finally looked up from the book only to meet the spirit’s deep eyes. “What else might I have that is of interest to you?”

“You carry a demon in your bones.”

A demon in my bones? Oh, OH! The spirit can sense Xil.  That was bad news. Alan fidgeted in place, a new wave of anxiety washing over him.

“I can offer precious treasures in exchange for the imprisoned demon.”

“I’m sorry, Odu. I cannot trade the demon to you.” Alan refused. He couldn’t trade the demon away like it was just some item. It was fucked up, and he considered Xil a friend of sorts.

“Hm, understandable. We will meet again, friend of the spirits.” Odu nodded.

“Alan! Alan!”

Alan turned around. The book was gone but he could feel the connection and he found himself between Byrr and Feyrith. There was no sign of the mists and no sign of the spirit. He was back on the fractal.

There was a group of black-robed people standing in front of them. Alan counted four.

“I spaced out.” Alan smiled. He was in a good mood and the impeding thread of death couldn’t do anything to ruin it. “Do these guys need something?”

“They were wondering if we knew something about their dead comrades,” Byrr said. There was a huge wooden mace resting in his hands.

“Oh! Those ripped apart dudes?” Alan asked, then turned to the black robes. “Sure, they are back there.” He pointed toward the direction their group had come from.

One of the black robes growled and stepped forward, but the one in front put his hand before his chest.

“You mock us?” a female voice asked.

Am I?