Chapter 15

  Avan huffed, sweat trickling down his brow as he flowed into the thirtieth stance, his body aching from days of grueling practice. “Whew, Fluffy—this one’s a monster,” he panted, glancing at Horny, his *White-horned Rabbit* companion lounging near the crevice to Akkalon’s library. The rabbit’s ears twitched, its gaze half-lidded in lazy boredom. “You sure you don’t wanna give it a shot? I mean, those stubby legs could probably throw a mean kick—or a punch, if you’re feeling fancy.” He chuckled, wiping his forehead with his arm. “Party pooper,” he accused, grinning as Horny yawned, unfazed. His enchanted boots scuffed the marble floor, slick with perspiration under the dungeon’s blue glow.

  The thirty stances of the Akkalon style had been a beast to master—far tougher than he’d anticipated after days wrestling with the murals. Each form demanded a river-like flow, weaving through enemies at odd angles, countering blades, spears, claws with a predator’s grace. It wasn’t like Earth’s Wing Tsun, all sharp and human-tuned; this was a stalking dance, reacting to every move, lethal yet flexible, blending death with the promise of healing. “It’s a terrifying sight when it all comes together,” he mused, finishing the final pose, breath steadying. He grabbed a looted towel, mopping sweat from his bare torso—stripped to boxers—and sipped from his flask before tossing it onto his clothes pile. Legs crossed, he sank into meditation, the cool stone anchoring him.

  Days of training had deepened his bond with his soul core, its density surging—mana inside and around his *Celestial Dungeonheart* sphere felt ten times thicker than when he’d started. He cycled it through his veins, a torrent of golden energy laced with silver and violet, marveling as it flooded his blood, ambient mana rushing in to replenish his core almost instantly. “My regen’s off the charts now—health, stamina, mana, all spiking thanks to this focus,” he thought, a thrill coursing through him. Chimes rang, sharp and clear:

  *Chime*

  You have learned the Passive Skill: Meditation 1

  Through meditation, a true spirit can reach godhood with enhanced regeneration of health, mana, and stamina. While still, you recover these resources at an elevated rate.

  *Chime*

  Your Passive Skill: Meditation has leveled up!

  Meditation: 9

  “Level 9 already,” Avan murmured, a grin spreading. “I can’t help but wonder what happens when it hits 10. Is there a threshold where it evolves into something more? It’s climbing fast, and honestly, it’s probably my strongest skill right now—the way it boosts everything is unreal.” He dove deeper, hours blurring as he guided mana, reinforcing body and soul. A shift rippled through him, elusive but close. “What if I push the flow harder?” he pondered. “Would it heat up like a steam engine, steam pouring off me? Or is mana too ethereal for that—pure energy, no heat at all?” Curiosity drove him, urging more.

  He drew ambient mana into his core, watching it harden, glass-like, fissures cracking as power surged unchecked. Pain stabbed his gut, sharp and swelling, the mana crashing like a tidal wave. “Too much—gotta stop it!” he thought, panic spiking, but the flood wouldn’t yield. He redirected it, venting energy into his bloodstream, sweat and blood seeping from his pores, purging toxins in a crimson sheen. Coughing, desperate, he channeled the torrent from his fracturing core, veins burning as mana bled out, impurities with it. “I can’t let it shatter—focus, guide it, hold on,” he urged himself, clinging to control.

  Time melted—hours, maybe?—until the agony faded, his core stabilizing into a hardened orb, translucent and tough. The ambient mana flowed steady, pooling in his cells without strain. He exhaled, deep and slow. “My skin’s like steel now, muscles tighter, mana stored everywhere,” he observed, tracing the changes. His heart thumped stronger, eyesight sharpened, teeth felt denser, bones buzzed with energy, and his brain sparked like a live wire. Opening his eyes, the hallway snapped into crystal focus, details leaping out. He sprang up, nearly smacking the three-meter ceiling, and giggled, stretching stiff limbs. “Gotta let these adjust—this is wild.”

  *Chime*

  You have learned the Passive Skill: [Bronze] Meditation 1

  Through meditation, a true spirit can reach godhood with enhanced regeneration of health, mana, and stamina. While still, you recover these resources at an elevated rate. [Bronze]: Your soul survived a mana flood, emerging stronger. Your body and mind are vastly improved, storing mana in your cells for greater speed, strength, and resilience. You can release small bursts of stored mana through contact to corrupt foes.

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  Power surged, electric—like chugging energy drinks back-to-back—and he dove into the stances again, blazing through all thirty forms triple his old speed. Something clicked, deep and certain.

  *Chime*

  You have proven your worth to the Order of Akkalon and are offered the Subclass: Healer of Akkalon.

  Healers of Akkalon master hand-to-hand combat while excelling at healing themselves and others, known for kindness and aid in any crisis.

  [Do you want to accept Healer of Akkalon as your subclass? Y/N]

  “Oh, hell yes—absolutely, I’m taking it!” Avan exclaimed, willing acceptance.

  *Chime*

  Your subclass is now: Healer of Akkalon!

  “Wait, that’s it? No juicy details?” he grumbled. “I was hoping for a deeper dive—what’s this class really about?” Chimes flooded in, relentless:

  *Chime*

  You have learned the Active Skill: Akkalon’s Touch

  With great strength comes great responsibility. Heal or destroy through direct contact, inflicting mana-based wounds on enemies or infusing allies with supportive energy.

  *Chime*

  You have learned the Active Skill: Celestial Storage

  As an otherworldly being, you access a private celestial pocket dimension for limited item storage. Open a small portal to store or retrieve items, a fusion of your main class, celestial element, and subclass.

  *Chime*

  You have learned the Active Skill: Akkalon’s Sphere

  Your meddling nature grants new ways to intervene. Summon one celestial mana sphere, controllable within your Sphere of Influence.

  *Chime*

  You have learned the Passive Skill: Pain Expert 1

  Pain is your ally, a thrill you embrace through self-inflicted trials. You inflict greater pain on foes, sharing your passion for it.

  *Chime*

  You have gained levels in Pain Resistance!

  Pain Resistance: 8

  *Chime*

  Thanks to your Celestial Element and Subclass: Healer of Akkalon, your Dungeon Sphere is upgraded to: Celestial Sphere 1

  You are a Dungeon, fueled by ambient mana. Harness it within your sphere-shaped influence, centered on you. Celestial power now radiates light, detectable only by the highest beings. Beware your heightened mana density.

  *Chime*

  Your class Dungeonheart [Human] is upgraded to: Healing Dungeonheart [Human]

  A mobile dungeon, your potential unfolds. Sense and influence all within your sphere—heal, harm, or manipulate as imagination allows. You are omnipotent within your domain.

  *Chime*

  Your Potential has been unlocked!

  Potential: [Unlocked]

  *Chime*

  You achieved a unique feat!

  As an otherworldly being, you gain a one-time bonus of +50 to all stats!

  “Holy—what?!” Avan blurted, mind reeling. “Wait a damn minute—this is insane! I’m what now? I can do what? And extra stats—fifty across the board?” The flood of sensations hit, his old Dungeonheart dampening gone, every nerve alight with raw input. His brain scrambled, teetering on overload, and he dropped to the floor, meditating fast. “I’ve got to calm this down before it fries me,” he thought, breathing deep and slow, guiding mana to his head, bolstering synapses against the storm. His mind flared like a holiday display, sorting chaos as hours bled away unnoticed.

  Exhaustion won, and he collapsed, sleeping hard. Waking, he checked himself—top to bottom, no damage. A stray thought of self-inspection made him cringe. “Oh god, no—that’s an image I’ll never unsee,” he groaned, shaking it off. “Alright, focus—let’s see the good stuff.” His interface flared:

  Avan Leaf

  Level: 12

  Free Stat Points: 5

  Element: Celestial

  Class: Healing Dungeonheart [Human]

  Subclass: Healer of Akkalon

  Stats

  Strength: 68

  Dexterity: 75

  Vitality: 67

  Intelligence: 60

  Wisdom: 55

  Spirit: 55

  Active Skills [3/8]

  Akkalon’s Touch

  Akkalon’s Sphere

  Celestial Storage

  Passive Skills

  Pain Resistance: 8

  Steady: 2

  Potential: [Unlocked]

  Celestial Affinity: 2

  Identification: 2

  Celestial Sphere: 1

  First Aid: 1

  Tracking: 2

  Meditation: [Bronze] 1

  Pain Expert: 1

  Primary Resources

  Health: 385

  Stamina: 385

  Ambient Mana: 575

  “Hell yeah—look at me now!” Avan crowed, flexing. “I was fit on Earth, but this? Ridiculous! If my base stats were human-normal, I’m leagues beyond that now. Started with 5 points and 50 resources—look at this haul! I love this world!” He cackled, a mock-villain laugh echoing off the walls. “Active skills at last—time to test these babies. Eight slots, huh? Wonder if I can swap ‘em later—plenty to play with.”

  He pictured a rift for *Celestial Storage*, frowning when nothing happened. “Okay, mana and intent—let’s try that,” he thought, focusing. A yellow, starry portal swirled open, thirty centimeters wide, edges translucent. “Gorgeous—celestial’s got style, all shiny and golden,” he marveled, circling it. He dipped a hand in, feeling cold, confirming it didn’t poke out the back. Grabbing a flask, he pushed it through—chill, then gone, yet his mind tracked it. Willing it back, it materialized in his grip. “Success! So intuitive—just think, and it happens. There’s gotta be more to dig into with this magic—way better than dusty uni lectures.”

  He tossed his loot—clothes, flasks, axe—into the portal, feeling a third full. *Akkalon’s Touch* seemed straightforward, a combat test for later. *Akkalon’s Sphere* intrigued him, its pattern complex yet vague. He raised his palm, envisioning a ball, mana draining fast—nearly 600 points gone as ambient flow refilled him. A yellow orb flickered, growing, hardening into a starry mini-sun. “This is nuts—a thousand mana and counting,” he breathed, tossing it hand-to-hand, weightless, bending to his will. He flung it up, willing it steady—it hovered precisely.

  “Cool toy, but I’m not juggling for kids yet,” he thought, neck craned. “What else can you do, little glowy?” He sent it circling the ceiling, speed ramping up, a swoosh cutting the air like a cannonball. An eight-pattern barely slowed it—deadly, accurate. Testing further, he fired it into the stone above, a boom echoing as it buried a meter deep, rubble raining. He whooped, bouncing like a kid. “Fucking amazing! Hounds won’t know what hit ‘em—guts everywhere, let’s roll!” Ignoring Horny’s glare, he strode down the slope, grinning. “I’m the Healing Dungeon now, wrecking havoc—unbelievable!”