Arthur leaned against the cavern wall, breathing heavily.

The last of the creatures lay at his feet, its eyes glassy, its breath gone.

The dagger in his hand shimmered with deep red veins now — alive, pulsing with a rhythm that matched his own heartbeat. The light wasn't fiery. It was throbbing. Hungry. Pleased.

A sound chimed in his mind.

[BLOODVEIN FANG: Kill Threshold Reached – 10/10]

Trait Unlocked: Soul Chain

Adapt. Evolve. Dominate.

[Dagger Evolution – Tier 1 → Tier 2]

Name: Eclipsfang

Material: Unknown Alloy (responsive to energy)

Kills: 10/10 (Threshold Reached)

Next Evolution: 0/50

New Trait Unlocked: Soul Chain

When you kill an enemy, the dagger binds to their essence for 10 minutes.

During this time:

You gain +20% to a dominant stat the enemy had (e.g., Strength for brutes, Dexterity for rogues)

You gain resistance to their elemental/physical damage type

You can sense similar enemies nearby through a pulse in the blade

Limit: 1 Soul Chain at a time

Duration: 10 minutes per soul

Cooldown between soul chains: 6 hours

Chain ends if you kill another eligible enemy

Arthur staggered slightly, heart pounding. He had never held a weapon that felt so alive.

It had changed… and so had he.

Arthur blinked as a warm sensation surged through his body — as though the strength of every enemy he just defeated had carved itself into his bones.

Then the second chime followed:

[Level Up – Level 6 Achieved]

New Ability Unlocked: Phantom Reflex (Passive)

+3 Stat Points Earned

[System Ability Upgrade – Level 6 Passive Ability Unlocked]

New Ability: Phantom Reflex (Passive – Always On)

Your body adapts to danger before your brain does.

Whenever you are:

Targeted by a surprise attack, or

Attacked from behind, or

Facing an opponent 2+ levels higher,

You gain:

A 2-second slow-time reflex window (perceived time slows 3x)

The ability to auto-dodge one incoming blow per encounter

An increased dodge and parry chance by 40% during the first 5 seconds of combat

Cooldown: 10 minutes

He stood still in the glowing silence, lit only by the faint mushrooms along the cavern walls.

“…I’m not just surviving anymore,” he murmured.

Arthur stared at the blade. It didn’t hum — it listened. And it felt... loyal.

Like a beast that now recognized him as its rider.

Arthur Greystone – Level 6

Strength: 6

Dexterity: 6

Intelligence: 4

Endurance: 5

Stat Points Available: 3

Distribute Points?

Arthur thought carefully.

“Strength helps me hit harder. But I’m already winning those exchanges.”

“Dexterity keeps me moving… but that new reflex ability might cover that now.”

He looked down at the slow-bleeding gash on his rib.

“…I can’t keep coming back with half my blood missing.”

“Endurance, then?” Aeon asked.

Arthur nodded.

“And one into Intelligence,” he added. “If I want to understand the blade better… or what’s coming next, I can’t stay dumb.”

-Stat Allocation Confirmed:

+2 Endurance → 7

+1 Intelligence → 5

Updated Stats:

Strength: 6

Dexterity: 6

Intelligence: 5

Endurance: 7

Health, stamina, and resistances increased.

Mana pool unlocked.

You may now use minor mental-type abilities.

As Arthur climbed out of the quarry, cloak torn, fingers still wet with blood — the dagger pulsing faintly under the wrappings — he felt it in his gut:

The shift.

The alley reeked of stale beer, piss, and sweat, but Arthur barely noticed. His hands were still stained red from the night before — not his blood.

His.

The man he’d killed had a name — he thought — but it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was the silver coin in his pocket, the warmth of it pressing against his thigh like a brand. That, and the dagger that pulsed faintly at his hip. It hadn't stopped since the kill count reached ten.

The slums of Fallowmere were waking slowly. Smoke curled from broken chimneys, and the creak of carts echoed down the narrow streets. Arthur walked with a steadiness he hadn’t known a week ago. Eyes forward. Shoulders up. He wasn’t just some street rat anymore.

“Oi!” a familiar voice called from behind.

Old Man Tim was hauling a crooked wheelbarrow full of scrap wood, puffing as he pushed it uphill.

“You look like you saw a ghost,” Tim huffed. “Or made one.”

Arthur smirked. “Something like that.”

“Still got that dagger?”

“Never leave home without it.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “It’s glowing.”

Arthur looked down. A faint pulse ran through the blade’s hilt — subtle but unmistakable. He quickly covered it with his coat.

“Must be the morning light,” he muttered.

Tim didn’t press. He just nodded and pointed ahead. “Help me get this to the shed, will ya? Then we’ll talk.”

They worked in silence, dragging the splintered cart down alleys and broken roads toward Tim’s shack near the cliffside. The sun was peeking through gray clouds by the time they dropped the load.

“So,” Tim said, wiping his brow, “heard you made a few enemies recently.”

Arthur raised a brow. “That so?”

“Boy, word travels faster than fire in a paper house. Black Maw’s sniffing. Cinder Crows are watching. And you? You’re walking around with silver coins like you own the place.”

Arthur didn’t answer right away. He sat on a half-busted crate and pulled out the coin. It gleamed.

“I didn’t ask for this. I just wanted to survive. That’s all.”

Tim gave him a long look. “This world doesn’t care what you want. Only what you’re willing to take.”

He stood, dusting off his coat. “You’ve got two choices now, lad. Hide... or rise.”

Then, with a pat on Arthur’s shoulder, he walked off down the hill, leaving the weight of those words behind.

Arthur sat there for a while, the wind tugging at his coat.

He didn’t feel like a survivor anymore.

He felt like something else was waking up.

He had changed. Not just stronger — sharper. Fitter. A step closer to something bigger than even the gangs or the fights.

Arthur returned home, footsteps light but his thoughts heavy. Myra raised an eyebrow the moment he stepped through the door.

"You're not limping," she said, arms crossed, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

"Guess I got better at walking," he replied.

She tossed him a cloth. "Wipe the blood off your cheek before you touch anything. Also... I sold out. We made a silver."

Arthur blinked. "Already?"

"I told you, I can handle things too," she said proudly.

They sat, eating a basic meal with a touch of spice they hadn’t afforded in weeks.

"We might eat meat next week," Arthur joked.