For the last three hours, the forest had been less of a mysterious wilderness and more of a math problem that Gideon was aggressively solving.
Thump.
Gideon swung the Bent Sword in a tight, controlled arc. The heavy iron struck the skull of a [Timber Wolf - Lvl 7] with a dull, wet crunch. The wolf, which had been mid-lunge, dropped to the forest floor like a sack of hammers.
"Force vector aligned," Gideon muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Impact efficient."
He didn't pause to celebrate. Two more wolves were circling him, their hackles raised, growling with a low, resonant frequency that vibrated in his chest.
"Pack tactics," Gideon analyzed, pivoting on his heel to keep them in his peripheral vision. "Flanking maneuver. Standard algorithm for canine predators."
He raised his left hand. He didn't cast a wall this time. He didn't need to waste 100 MP on a static defense.
"Flash," he commanded.
He pulsed his mana—short, sharp bursts of his shield.
A hexagon of blinding gold light snapped into existence for a millisecond, then vanished, then snapped back.
Flash. Flash. Flash.
The effect on the wolves was instantaneous. Their eyes, adapted for the twilight gloom, couldn't handle the rapid-fire changes in luminance. The strobe effect disrupted their visual processing, causing them to stumble and whine, shaking their heads in confusion.
"Seizure induction via optical overload," Gideon grinned, stepping forward. "It’s not magic. It’s neurology."
He stepped into the guard of the disoriented wolf on his right. He didn't slash; he used the flat of the bent blade like a club, driving it into the creature's ribs with his Strength.
CRACK.
The wolf yelped and collapsed.
The last wolf turned to run, realizing the prey was actually a predator in a burlap sack, but a dagger flew out and caught it in the mid-spine.
Elara stepped out from behind a tree, retrieving her blade from the fading corpse.
"You're playing with your food," she noted, wiping the blade on her trousers.
" I'm refining the process... A flash only costs 15 Mana. A full shield costs 100. I saved a ton of energy by just annoying them to death.."
"It's effective," Elara admitted. She looked him over. "You're moving better. You aren't tripping over your own feet anymore."
"I’ve been working out," Gideon said, rolling his shoulders.
He checked his status. The grind had been brutal, but efficient. Since the Magma Slime, they had cleared three packs of wolves, a nest of acidic beetles, and something that looked like a badger but breathed fire.
[ XP: 9,850 / 10,000 ]
"I'm at 98%," Gideon said, the blue light of the interface reflecting in his glowing eyes. "One more pack. Maybe two."
He closed the window, but as he did, a new notification chime rang out. It wasn't the "Level Up" sound. It was deeper, more mechanical.
[ SYSTEM ALERT: ADAPTATION DETECTED ]
Gideon blinked. "Adaptation?"
[ Analyzing User Mana Cycle... ] [ History: Subject survived Critical Mana Exhaustion (1 MP). ] [ History: Subject successfully force-cycled ambient mana during high-stress combat. ] [ Conclusion: User has rejected the standard "Vessel" model of mana storage in favor of a "Conduit" model. ]
[ NEW TITLE ACQUIRED: THE OPEN CIRCUIT ] [ Rarity: Rare ] [ Effect: You have stopped treating Mana as a liquid that fills a cup and started treating it as a current that flows through a wire. By keeping your internal 'ports' permanently unsealed, you ensure a constant, low-voltage intake of ambient energy. ] [ Bonus: Passive Mana Regeneration +2 per second. ] [ Side Effect: Chronic low-grade migraine (The hum never stops). ]
Gideon stared at the text. He felt a sudden, sharp throb behind his eyes—a constant, buzzing pressure that wasn't painful, just... present. Like standing next to a high-voltage transformer.
But then he looked at his MP bar.
He had burned about 60 MP in the wolf fight. Usually, he would have to wait five minutes for that to trickle back.
He watched the numbers tick up.
[ MP: 490... 492... 494... 496... ]
It was ticking up visibly. Tick. Tick. Tick.
"Oh," Gideon whispered. "Oh, that is beautiful."
"What?" Elara asked, seeing the look on his face.
"I got a title," Gideon said, tapping his temple. "The Open Circuit. I have passive mana regen now. It’s not much—two points a second—but it means I don't have to sit in a corner and hyperventilate after every fight."
Elara raised an eyebrow. "Passive regen is usually reserved for C-Rank Mages. You’re not even doing anything right now..., You got it for what, almost dying with no mana every fight”
"By refusing to close the connection," Gideon said, watching the bar hit 550 / 550. "I left the door open. The draft gives me a headache, but the fresh air is worth it."
He gripped his sword, feeling a renewed surge of energy. He wasn't just a battery anymore. He was a generator.
"One more pack," Gideon said, looking deeper into the woods where the shadows were longest. "Let's hit the cap. I want to see what happens when an Anomaly hits a Decade."
"Careful what you wish for," Elara warned, though she moved to take point. " The Decades are where the System stops holding your hand. Level 10 isn't just a number, Gideon. Your body changes. At least it does for the teenagers when they hit that level"
"Good," Gideon said, following her. "Maybe my voice will finally come in."
They moved into a ravine where the air smelled of wet fur and aggression.
"Four targets," Elara whispered, crouching low. "Alpha is Level 9. The rest are Level 7."
Gideon stepped up. He didn't hide. He let his glowing eyes flare in the darkness, a beacon of cyan light.
"Hey!" he shouted at the darkness. "I need one hundred and fifty experience points! Who wants to volunteer?"
A massive shadow detached itself from the rocks. The Alpha Wolf was the size of a pony, its eyes burning red. It snarled, exposing teeth that looked like serrated daggers.
"Volunteer accepted," Gideon grinned.
He didn't wait for the charge. He initiated.
"Shield! Dome Mode!"
He threw a bubble around the Alpha, trapping it alone with him, cutting off the pack.
"Thunderdome rules!" Gideon yelled as the Alpha lunged. "Two enter! One gets a stat boost!"
He brought the bent sword up, the passive mana flowing into his circuits, keeping the shield bright and hard. He was ready.
The fight with the Alpha Wolf was short, brutal, and entirely decided by math.
Gideon didn't dance with the beast. He trapped it in a [Radiant Lattice: Dome Mode], waited for it to lunge, and then with a very heavy overhand chop from the Bent Sword, ended the debate in under thirty seconds.
The wolf fell to the ground. The forest fell silent.
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Gideon stood over the dead wolf, his chest heaving. The [Open Circuit] title was humming in the back of his skull—a low, persistent throb that felt like a migraine held at arm's length. But the mana was flowing. He could feel it refilling his tank, tick by tick, without him having to meditate.
Then, the world seemed to take a deep breath.
The sound that followed wasn't a chime. It was a gong. A resonant, bass-heavy vibration that shook the leaves off the nearest trees and rattled Gideon’s teeth.
[ DING. ]
[ CONGRATULATIONS! DECADE MILESTONE REACHED. ]
[ LEVEL 9 >> LEVEL 10 ]
Gideon gasped. He dropped his sword.
It wasn't just a rush of energy this time. It felt like someone had hooked jumper cables to his nervous system. His vision went white. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as his heart hammered a frantic, powerful rhythm against his ribs.
"Gideon?" Elara’s voice was sharp, cutting through the ringing in his ears.
"I'm... rebooting," Gideon choked out.
He could feel his muscles knitting themselves tighter, the fibers becoming denser. His bones felt like they were vibrating, hardening into something closer to steel than calcium. But the biggest change was in his head.
The processing speed of his thoughts accelerated. He looked at the ground and didn't just see mud; he saw the moisture content, the angle of the slope, the structural integrity of the root system.
It was like switching from dial-up to fiber optic.
[ SYSTEM ALERT: DECADE BONUS APPLIED ] [ ALL BASE STATS INCREASED BY CURRENT LEVEL (+10) ]
Gideon stayed on his knees for a moment longer, breathing deeply. The air tasted richer. The colors of the forest were hyper-saturated.
He stood up. He didn't scramble up; he simply rose. The movement was effortless. He felt light, but anchored.
"You're taller," Elara said. She was standing ten feet away, her daggers sheathed. She looked him up and down, her expression guarding a flicker of genuine surprise. "And you stopped twitching."
"I feel... optimized," Gideon whispered, looking at his hands. They were steady. The calluses from the sword were gone, replaced by tough, resilient skin.
"Check the numbers," Elara commanded. "Every ten level’s is a big jump."
Gideon summoned his interface. The window snapped open with zero lag.
[ NAME: GIDEON VANCE ] [ LEVEL: 10 ] [ UNALLOCATED STAT POINTS: 20 ] (10 from Lvl 9 + 10 from Lvl 10)
He looked at his base stats. The +10 Decade Bonus had been applied across the board.
- Intelligence: 60 + 10 = 70
- Constitution: 45 + 10 = 55
- Strength: 40 + 10 = 50
- Endurance: 35 + 10 = 45
- Agility: 30 + 10 = 40
- Wisdom: 25 + 10 = 35
- Perception: 25 + 10 = 35
"Base stats are massive," Gideon analyzed, his voice calm and resonant. "Fifty Strength!"
"Don't get cocky," Elara said, though she looked pleased. "Strength is useless if you can't hit the target. Allocation?"
"Twenty points to spend," Gideon said. " I need to keep the tank full."
He looked at Intelligence. With the new base of 60, he had 600 MP. It was good, but with the passive regen of [The Open Circuit], he could afford to lean slightly harder into physical survival. The monsters were only going to get faster.
"Ten into Intelligence," Gideon decided. " I need the processing power. If I'm going to do the math in real-time without my brain melting, I need the headspace.."
[ INTELLIGENCE: 70 >> 80 (MP: 800) ]
"And the rest?"
"Agility," Gideon said. "I'm strong enough to hurt them. I'm tough enough to take a hit. But I'm still slow. Speed is the variable I can't simulate."
He dumped the remaining 10 points into Agility.
[ AGILITY: 40 >> 50 ]
[ STATS FINALIZED ]
- Intelligence: 80 (800 MP)
- Constitution: 55 (550 HP)
- Strength: 50
- Endurance: 45 (450 Stamina)
- Agility: 50
The shift in Agility was immediate. Gideon took a step and felt the world move with him. His reaction time felt instantaneous. He snatched a falling leaf out of the air without even looking at it, pinching the stem between two fingers.
"Reflexes calibrated," Gideon murmured, flicking the leaf away.
"One last thing," Gideon murmured, his eyes tracking a new flashing tab on his interface.
[ DECADE REWARD: NEW SKILL SLOT AVAILABLE ]
He waved his hand, scrolling through the list of Level 10 Paladin staples. Lay on Hands. Purify. Aura of Courage. They were all abstract, faith-based concepts that made his scientist brain itch. But then he stopped at [Smite].
Description: Channels divine energy into a melee strike for massive damage.
Gideon tilted his head. "Divine energy," he whispered, translating the mysticism into mechanics. "Or... a highly concentrated, coherent stream of photons applied at point-blank range. High-energy output. Zero refraction."
He smiled, a dangerous, calculating expression that looked strange on a face glowing with holy light.
"I can work with lasers," Gideon said, mentally confirming the selection. "System, download [Smite]. I have a feeling I’m going to need a way to punch something harder than my muscles allow."
[ SKILL ACQUIRED: SMITE ]
"We'll fix the name later," he muttered, closing the window.
He turned to Elara. The level gap between them—Level 10 vs. Level 50—was still huge, but it no longer felt like he was a toddler trying to fight a tank. He was a small tank.
"I'm Level 10," Gideon announced. "I have passive regen. I have a shield that breaks physics. And I have..." He picked up his bent sword, grimacing at the rusty iron. "...a piece of garbage for a weapon."
"We can fix the gear in Oakhaven," Elara said, turning toward the south. "You're eligible for the Guild registry now. No one will look twice at a Level 10 with a sword."
"They might look twice at the eyes," Gideon noted, pointing to his own glowing cyan irises.
"Wear the hood," Elara said, tossing him a spare strip of cloth from her pack to tie around his forehead. "And keep your mouth shut about the 'physics.' To everyone else, you're just a Paladin with a weird casting style."
Gideon tied the cloth, hiding the worst of the glow. He adjusted his burlap sack—which was starting to feel comfortably worn—and looked toward the edge of the forest.
"Oakhaven," Gideon said. "Civilization. Beds. Pizza?"
"Gruel and ale," Elara corrected, starting the trek. "And politics. Lots of politics."
"I can handle politics," Gideon said, falling into step beside her. His stride was long, confident, and tireless. " Politics is just variables and pressure. It's basically plumbing, but with people."
"Keep telling yourself that," Elara muttered. "Let's go. I want to sleep in a real bed before I die of old age waiting for you to walk."
Gideon smiled. He checked his mana bar. [ 800 / 800 ].
He was fully charged. The migraine was a dull thrum in the back of his head, a constant reminder that he was running hot, but he welcomed it. It was the sound of the engine running.
"Ready," Gideon said.
The transition from the Whispering Woods to the King’s Road was abrupt.
One moment, they were trudging through ferns that tried to grab their ankles and mud that smelled of sulfur; the next, their boots hit hard-packed dirt reinforced with crushed gravel.
Gideon stopped at the tree line. He took a deep breath.
The air here was different. It didn't smell like ozone and monster rot. It smelled of woodsmoke, roasting meat, and the faint, unmistakable tang of unwashed humanity.
"Civilization," Gideon diagnosed, wrinkling his nose. "I’d recognize that particulate matter anywhere. It’s mostly carbon monoxide and bad hygiene."
"It's Oakhaven," Elara corrected, stepping onto the road and adjusting her cloak. She pulled her hood up, obscuring her face in shadow. "Try not to analyze the smell too loudly. People here take pride in their squalor."
Gideon stepped onto the road. He waited for his legs to complain. He waited for the familiar burn of lactic acid in his calves or the ache in his lower back that usually accompanied a three-hour hike in heavy boots.
Nothing happened.
His newfound Endurance of 45 and Strength of 50 absorbed the effort like it was background noise. He didn't feel like he was walking; he felt like he was gliding on a frictionless rail.
"This new chassis is incredible," Gideon murmured, flexing his hands. "I feel biomechanically efficient. I could walk for days."
"You'll need to," Elara said, setting a brisk pace toward the south. "The city is another three miles. And Gideon? Hood up."
Gideon touched the strip of cloth tied around his forehead, then pulled the hood of his scratchy burlap tunic over his head. It cast his face in shadow, hiding the unnerving cyan glow of his irises.
"Remember the cover story," Elara reminded him, her voice low. "You aren't a scientist. You aren't an Anomaly. You are a traveler from the North. You are mute unless spoken to, and even then, keep it brief."
"I am terrible at being brief," Gideon noted. "I have a tendency to lecture when nervous."
"Then chew on a root," Elara suggested. "Just don't start explaining the thermodynamics of a fireball to a Guild Wizard. They don't like it when you use math to explain their 'miracles'. They call it heresy. I call it a good way to get stabbed."
They crested a hill, and the city of Oakhaven revealed itself.
Gideon stopped dead.
He had expected a medieval village—maybe some thatch roofs, a wooden wall, a few chickens. He had expected Skyrim on low settings.
What he saw was a logistical nightmare held together by magic.
Oakhaven was massive, sprawling across the valley floor like a fungal growth. The outer walls were fifty feet high, made of grey stone that shimmered with faint blue containment runes. But inside the walls, the architecture ignored gravity.
Towers spiraled upward at impossible angles, supported by nothing but glowing buttresses of mana. Bridges connected buildings fifty stories in the air, lacking any visible suspension cables. Floating lanterns drifted through the streets like lazy fireflies, illuminating a chaotic sprawl of stone, wood, and crystal.
It looked like a city designed by an architect who had fallen asleep on the "Paste" key.
" That shouldn't be standing," Gideon whispered, his eyes widening. " That central tower... the weight is impossible. That much stone should crush the foundation instantly."
"Mana-reinforced masonry," Elara explained, not breaking stride. "The System supports the structure. The richer the district, the less gravity applies. The poor live on the ground; the rich live in the sky."
"Literal social stratification," Gideon mused. "Subtle."
He checked his mana bar. [ 800 / 800 ].
The headache from [The Open Circuit] was still there—a dull, rhythmic thrumming at the base of his skull—but it felt manageable now. It was the hum of the city. He could feel the ambient energy of Oakhaven washing over him, a chaotic ocean of data compared to the clean stream of the forest.
He shifted the burlap sack on his shoulder. It clinked with the sound of the Copper Horns and the Magma Core.
"I have loot," Gideon said, patting the sack. "I have stats. I have a headache that won't quit. I think I'm ready."
"You're Level 10," Elara said, glancing back at him. Her eyes were hard, but the tension in her shoulders had loosened slightly. "You're not meat anymore, Gideon. But in there? You're still prey. The monsters in the woods just want to eat you. The monsters in the city want your gold, your loyalty, or your life."
"I prefer the eating," Gideon admitted. "It's more honest."
"Welcome to the grind," Elara said.
She started walking down the hill toward the massive iron gates, where a line of travelers was waiting to be processed.
Gideon took a moment. He looked back at the Whispering Woods—the dark, green hell he had just survived. He thought about the stasis pod, the robots, the fear of waking up naked in a dissolving world.
He touched the hilt of his Bent Sword. It was trash. It was rusted. It was crooked.
But it was his.
He turned his back on the woods and followed Elara toward the city lights. He wasn't the scared scientist anymore. He was a variable that had just entered the equation.
"Okay, Oakhaven," Gideon whispered, his glowing eyes narrowing beneath his hood. "Let's see if your physics are as broken as your architecture."