1% Lifesteal

Chapter 83 - Indecision

"Can you hear that?" Freddy asked as he interrupted their sparring.

Sophia was still a one-star, so her perception wasn't as high as Freddy's. He had also used quite a bit of that perception medicine, making him extra sensitive. "I think I can hear… explosions. In the distance," he said, scowling. "It's that way." He pointed roughly in the direction of the center of the realm. Sophia opened her mouth, but— "Wait, shh." He raised his finger to his lips as he focused. "Yeah, I'm certain. Can you hear anything?"

"Umm… No?" she denied hesitantly, squinting in the direction Freddy was looking in. As she did that, her eyes shot wide open, and she ran forward to climb a nearby tree. "Holy crap…"

"What is it?" he asked.

Sophia covered her mouth with one hand, gagging. "Oh, I think I'm gonna throw up."

"What!?" he yelled. "What's going on?"

"The sky… Everything is pink."

Freddy's throat seized up. "Oh… shit…" he cursed. "Above the passage?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, looking away and closing her eyes while breathing heavily.

"How many? It's everyone who gathered in the middle, isn't it?"

She nodded.

Freddy breathed heavily and bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he stared into the soil. The sounds of explosions grew more explicit in his ears, deafening silence overwhelming everything else. The blasts sounded… dull. Wet. Before long, he heard screaming, too. Shouting. The sounds of steel mashing. The sounds of people dying.

"Are you okay?"

Freddy jolted as he looked up at Sophia, who was watching him with a concerned gaze. His face was pale, and he was covered in sweat. "I'm fine," he said, slumping into a crouch. "Should we continue?" he asked, but Sophia remained silent, watching him for a long moment. "Come on, now," he said as he tried cheering up a bit. "We knew this was going to happen. Does it change anything?"

"Freddy," she cut in. "The life force I'm seeing…" She slowly turned her face in the direction of the passage. "A lot of people are dying."

"So what!?" he shouted, catching himself immediately after and swallowing his desire to scream in panic. "We are going to be next if we don't prepare."

She stared at him, and then her eyes slowly drifted to the ground beneath his feet. "Should we bury ourselves?"

"Is it going to work?"

"It could…"

"Are you satisfied with 'could'? You really want to roll the dice with whether we live or not?"

"I don't," she spat, quieting for a long moment. "I don't."

Freddy pursed his lips, gritting his teeth. Their survival wasn't guaranteed, no matter what they did. But knowing danger was coming was one thing. Hearing it—seeing it—was another. "We've already established that hiding is a stupid idea. Even if the cult doesn't find us, we have no goddamn clue what's going to come in through the unsealed passages, and if we're dug out at that point, we are screwed."

She winced.

"Look," he said as he finally got up from the crouch and stretched to his full height. "I know how you feel."

"You don't know anything."

He grabbed her arm by the wrist, and she looked up at him. "Yes, I do," he said, staring her right in the eye. "You could have been standing among those people and slaughtering the innocent by the dozen."

She tore her gaze away from him and tried pulling back, but he gripped harder.

"But you're not," he asserted. "You ran away. You saw what they were; you knew what they could do and wanted no part of it. What, are you ashamed that you were born as one of them?"

"That has nothing to do with it!" she screamed, thrashing her hair and breaking into tears as she pulled back with her strength and tore her arm from his grip. "They're… They were my family!" she said, taking several steps back as she shook. She clasped her palm to her forehead as she sobbed, turning around to face the other way. "I know those people. I don't want to fight them. I don't want to kill them. I don't…"

Freddy's gaze grew cold. He watched her back without any sympathy. "You might be seeing some pink mist, but you aren't hearing what I am," he stated, taking a step forward. "I hear the sounds of flesh being torn, people being blown apart."

She winced.

"They aren't just killing, Sophia." He walked up to where she stood, looming behind her back. "Do you want to go see what your 'family' is up to?"

Silence descended between them. Sophia shivered in his shadow, barely suppressing her sobs. "I've seen videos of what their operations look like," she said, slowly turning around to face him. Her eyes appeared empty. "I know what they're capable of."

"What's the problem, then?"

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he opened his palm and slapped her. The sharp sound of his hand meeting her cheek echoed through the empty space around them, and she was pushed back a bit, putting her fingers to her face in shock as she looked at him in disbelief.

"Snap out of it," he demanded. "You did the right thing by running away. Don't fuck it up now."

She bit her lip. "Don't you dare hit me like that again."

"Or what?"

Her nostrils flared as she stared at him, but a moment later, she looked away in shame. She wiped the snot beneath her nose with a sleeve.

By then, the sounds of fighting had already quieted.

Sophia looked back to the sky above the realm, and judging by the pang of agony in her eye, the amount of dissipating life force had multiplied. Her eyes moved down to the ground, and then she turned to look at him with forced cheer. "You're gonna pay for that slap," she said, getting back into a combat stance.

He nodded and did the same thing.

***

At first, Freddy believed that getting used to his new body would be easy enough. After all, not even an hour after he started sparring with Sophia, he felt he was already 90 percent there to mastering himself.

Unfortunately, that last 10 percent was also the most difficult to overcome.

The main problem was his muscle memory. He got the hang of his new body quickly enough, but numerous times, Sophia would do something unexpected, and he'd either freeze up, trip, or hit himself by accident. Conscious control caught up quickly—involuntary reactions didn't.

A lifetime of habits was deeply ingrained into his mind and body, and while his talent was miraculous, it couldn't change that.

This problem would haunt him for a long while, but they were doing their best to undo the worst of it. And, as their progress continued, one thing became apparent: even with the downsides, he had gained far more than he'd lost.

Comparing his new body to the old one was like comparing a top-of-the-line car to a ragged old carriage. Even if he still sucked at driving, the ride was far smoother than it used to be. But boy, did he suck at driving. Sophia was genuinely bewildered at how bad he was at fighting.

But, with her expert guidance and through much work, he started to improve. She aggressively corrected the worst of his mistakes; with time, he could almost be compared to someone who knew what they were doing, at least in the basics department.

It was equally humiliating and humbling for Freddy to confront his lack of skill.

His footwork was garbage; his sense of balance was nonexistent; he was like an angry bull, charging his opponents recklessly and throwing everything he had at them while paying no mind to how they might retaliate, thinking only one step ahead, if even that much—a weakness that Sophia happily and frequently exploited as she effortlessly kicked his ass with a tenth of the effort he was putting into the fights.

Sophia told him that he had something the cult dubbed a "mind of hate." She had explained their convoluted system, going into great detail about why the cult waited so long for the children to be given their vestiges. It wasn't just about them proving themselves; it was also about giving them the time to discover their true nature.

While she didn't have a lifetime to watch him fight, according to her, she didn't need long to get a read on him. With almost absolute certainty, she claimed that he was what the cult called a "Hateful."

Freddy fought like he genuinely hated his opponent, even while he sparred. He despised that they dared get in his way; his soul seethed in fury at the mere thought that someone dared attack him.

He took every blow as personally as some might an insult to their mother. As such, he did everything in his power to obliterate his opponent as quickly as possible and make them suffer.

His tendencies in how he formed his abilities were further proof of this. He craved instant, overwhelming power and tools that could inflict as much damage and pain in as short a time as possible.

Usually, such people were given fire-affinity talents—destructive power sets that could be used at range. The tendencies like those that Freddy showed were horrible for anyone who wanted to train true martial arts. Taking blow for blow was an excellent way to retire early, and that was in the best-case scenario.

Fortunately for him, with 1% Lifesteal, he was a rare exception to this common rule.

According to Sophia, it was better for him to double down on how he fought. It was within his nature, after all; it was always best if one could follow the path that was most suitable for them. Besides, he was undead, and injuries didn't matter to him in the long run—there was no downside to pursuing his style, even if it was kind of insane.

Well… if he learned how to land those strikes, at least.

From his point of view, most of what she said sounded like typical pseudoscientific cultist mumbo-jumbo, but, if anything, he couldn't deny her skill. And there was some validity to what she was saying.

Although he took it with a grain of salt, he still listened to her advice and did his best to improve.

They would spar, with him focusing on mastering basic movements and Sophia working on her abilities. Then, when Sophia grew tired, she went to the Netherecho to replenish her reserves, and once she returned, she meditated to settle herself while Freddy trained.

When they got hungry, they hunted for nearby gorels, and then… well… they tried eating their meat raw. Not only did it taste like vomit, it was hard to digest and gave them stomachaches.

They couldn't light a fire to cook it because the smoke might give them away, but Sophia devised a brilliant solution. Even if it was a bit… bizarre.

She first flooded the flesh with life essence and turned the whole body into a big captured life spark. Then she combined one of their extremely powerful sparks into the chunk of flesh. With a powerful spark of undeath, the flesh blob could digest any organic material quickly and without much trouble.

So, they fed the mass of flesh with tree branches, leaves, and wood chunks. The blob could easily digest plant fiber and turn it into sugars. They would feed it so much wood that the blob of flesh would be supersaturated with sugar.

At that point, it was only a matter of Sophia removing the spark of undeath. This would kill the whole blob instantly, making the meat safe to consume.

The final result tasted metallic, earthy, and sickeningly sweet. It had the texture of melted chewing gum, but it went down much more easily than raw gorel flesh.

When they were exhausted to their limits, they slept in the small cave they had found. Rather than swap turns to watch for danger, they tasked Bloodshed with keeping them safe. Well, with keeping Freddy safe, at least.

Sophia knew this, and it did no good for her sleep quality. But she rested enough. Supreme-quality healing couldn't replace sleep, but it could supplement it somewhat. Thus, all it took was one spark, and she was up to speed.

Freddy occasionally consumed the dubious steroids and exercised to temper his body.

If he was being honest, he really didn't like using this stuff. He only consumed a tiny crumb melted into a large bottle of water, but even that much made him feel like he was losing his mind. Coupled with continuous, aching pain in his genital area and a massive headache, it was more comparable to being tortured than anything else.

These steroids were not made for human consumption. While using them, his heart beat so irregularly that it felt like he was suffering from a long series of heart attacks. In fact, on a few occasions, his heart did stop beating altogether. If it weren't for his undeath, he'd have lost his life every time that happened.

Being undead was pretty bizarre. Even when his heart stopped pumping blood, all he felt was severe discomfort. While he didn't die or lose consciousness, it did have some scary effects.

His entire body felt like it was screaming for air, causing him to feel like he was suffocating the whole time. Every cell, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, demanded oxygen. This didn't only hurt, either. The cells in his body didn't die, but they became pretty weak, and in such a state, he could barely exert any force.

Many of those who had the death affinity refrained from becoming undead. Now that he was experiencing the downsides, he could tell why. For him, this state was temporary. But for someone without access to a talent like his?

He couldn't imagine continuing to live without a working heart. If he felt like that 24/7… or if he got into an even worse situation?

No wonder that so many people lost their minds.

That being said, his talent definitely lived up to his expectations. Despite the aggressive damage to his body and the rapid muscle growth, once he healed, he experienced no lasting side effects.

And the primary effects were definitely worth the sacrifice. Only three days after they started, the initial vulnerabilities in his body were gone, having vanished like they had never been there to begin with. His muscles grew only a bit, but even that was insane for only three days of work.

On top of that, he felt considerably stronger. He'd need a visit to the gym to see how much, but from what he could tell, it was a notable increase. Although, that wasn't exactly the best way to put it. It wasn't that he was considerably stronger than he used to be, but it was now far easier for him to exert that strength.

The newly found superior leverage made movement much smoother, allowing him to comfortably exert force from a wider variety of angles. His body was also more balanced.

Once his physique was mostly settled, he dedicated a part of his focus to gathering, tempering, and growing his abilities.

He still meticulously kept track of his progress in a notebook.

GATHERING:

Second star—128% essence capacity

TALENT:

1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing

SOUL CONSTRUCT:

Scythe: Essence Extraction

TEMPERING TECHNIQUES:

Blood affinity:

Pool of Blood: Stage 1—65% Progress

Crimson Mercury: Stage 0—99% Progress

Water affinity:

Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1—Complete

Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 1—14% Progress

Abyssal Depths: Stage 1—25% Progress

ACTIVE ABILITIES:

Blood affinity:

Gore Knuckles: Stage 0—98% Progress

Water affinity:

Flowing Strike: Stage 1—25% Progress

Hydraulic Flex: Stage 1—9% Progress

Create Water: Stage 1—23% Progress

Pressure Jet: Unfinished ether shell

Perished water affinity:

Perished Water: Stage ?—? Progress

That Other Ability: No clue

SPIRIT ABILITIES:

Blood Sacrifice

Leviathan's Fury

UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS:

Blood Ring: -4% essence cost, +3% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed.

CURSED ITEMS:

Dagger of Bleeding: Melee attacks cause extra bleeding

He hadn't made much progress across the board, but he did make a notable leap forward in essence capacity. Sophia's method was quite effective.

They hadn't yet returned to it, but he was sure he could reach at least 160% essence capacity if they did—199% was way out of his reach, however. Maybe if he had two weeks, he could get there, but with the time they had, he wasn't optimistic. It was a loss, to be sure, but not a massive one. Even if he made it that far, reaching the third star wasn't a possibility.

Having Bloodshed was effectively a cheat for growing capacity, but a leap to the third star took far more than just being at 199%. If it were that easy, the vast majority of two-stars wouldn't be stuck at this exact point.

Reaching the third star required one to truly fulfill their two-star potential. Physically, Freddy was already way ahead of most two-stars… but his abilities were severely lacking.

Pool of Blood was his most advanced ability, and even it was only at stage one and 65% progress. Most people at 199% star capacity had all of their core abilities at stage two, with some even having their primary ability at stage three, but that was exceptionally rare.

The thought of this made Freddy sweat. His body was a great tool, but he held no delusions about his current power. Even Sophia had said it—without his spirit abilities, they didn't stand a chance against the cultists.

He glanced over the notebook, looking through his set of powers. Crimson Mercury and Gore Knuckles were both close to being ready to upgrade, so he decided that the best course of action would be to focus on those two.

His effort paid off quickly. A mere fifteen minutes of tempering and another half hour of punching a tree were enough to complete the job.

He tasked Bloodshed with finding a few vestiges. Essentially, he needed the concept of "metallicness" for both abilities. There were a few branching paths for Gore Knuckles after that point, but for Crimson Mercury, it was just a matter of finding concepts of being tied to specific metals, preferably ones that made for good weapons.

A quick trip underground was all it took for Bloodshed to return with the targets. Metal was everywhere, and it was no surprise that a vestige of the concept would also be common.

He beat them up and absorbed them into his soul, finally upgrading the two abilities.

Gore Knuckles became a bit tougher, which was no surprise. They wouldn't be particularly impressive until he got Crimson Mercury to at least stage one—10% progress. Then they would have the approximate quality of wrought iron, which would do just fine for the most part unless he had to use them on a particularly hard material.

If they shattered occasionally, fixing them required a negligible investment of essence, and he had blood to spare.

With that out of the way, he looked through the rest of the list. If he was being honest, even if he dedicated all his time to growing them, there was little benefit he could get from most of his abilities in the short time frame they were working with.

Growth outside of mortal combat was slow at his current stage, and he didn't have the time to develop new abilities.

At this point, there was only one ability worth investing his time into—Hydraulic Flex. It was his go-to ability for all things mobility.

As for the other abilities?

Flowing Strike was already powerful enough. Thousand Wet Hells grew too slowly, and Abyssal Depths only made Flowing Strike more expensive, which wasn't particularly desirable with his current reserves.

He hadn't been using Hydraulic Flex until that point in his spars against Sophia. With it, he was simply too fast for her to hold her ground, and he needed to get used to his body anyway.

Once he was finished with upgrading his abilities, he walked back to where Sophia was.

Her body looked serene as she meditated, gathering essence and allowing it to settle in her body. She was close to reaching the second star. Her speed was insane, but that was to be expected with how long she had spent training before becoming an archhuman.

Although she looked calm at that moment, he knew that wasn't how she felt. She didn't say it—for the most part, she just focused on progress. But he could feel an air of… determination around her. There was no more joviality. Even when she did try to joke, it wasn't funny. She wasn't trying to be.

He didn't ask, but he did care. He feared how she would react. It could get ugly—real ugly. There were several worst-case scenarios, starting with her fumbling and getting herself killed and ending with betrayal.

Although he seriously doubted they would take her back given the stories she shared about them.

It was hard for Freddy to relate to her. It had been a long time since he last felt like he truly belonged somewhere.

"Am I that pretty while I meditate?" she asked him as she opened her eyes. Her smile was strained, and it didn't reach her eyes.

He didn't feel like bantering. "I have to ask you something," he said, sighing as he glanced down at his left hand, where his storage ring glistened under the false sun.

Freddy had already shared more with Sophia than he wanted to. She knew about Bloodshed. She knew about his spirit abilities.

His ring.

She cocked her head at him, and he tried meeting her eyes but failed, dropping his head down. He got into a crouch and fiddled with his ring, rolling his thoughts across his tongue as he pondered his options.

It was time to make a decision. Half-trusting her like this was stupid. At the moment, he was leaving himself open to betrayal while failing to maximize the odds of their survival.

He had to make a choice.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, preparing to get up and come closer to him.

He glanced at her.

Either he trusted her… or he didn't.

His heart raged in his chest as he struggled to look at her. What were his options, even? Tell her to fuck off? And then what? How far would he get on his own? Besides, hadn't she gone above and beyond to help him out? Her actions weren't those of someone who wanted to betray him for this cult. From the very start, she had been serious about surviving this. She was simply torn.

"Hello?" she called. "Earth calling Freddy? Are you okay, dude?" she asked, trying to sound cheerful.

"Sophia." He coughed and got up to his feet. "I'm… I have something to tell you."

She stopped and stared at him, a pensive glare dancing across his features. "Go on," she urged.

"You said we stand no chance against the cult, right?" he asked.

"I'm positive," she said, squinting at him. Then her eyebrows shot up. "You think you have something else that could help us in the fight," she declared confidently.

"No," he denied. "That's not what I'm…" He couldn't stop himself from looking at his ring again. "Maybe… but I'm not sure."

When he was getting his stuff evaluated by that man, August, he only had six of the nine consumable items appraised before the whole deal went tits up. And Freddy had left the most expensive-looking stuff for last—thus, he had no idea what it was.

But she might know.

His stomach felt like it wanted to jump out of his throat as he finally bit down and steeled his resolve.

He wasn't going to run away. She was a priceless source of information. But if he had her by his side, he was going all in. If she had any plans to betray him, it didn't matter how much she knew.

What mattered the most was that they used everything they had at their disposal.

"Hey, Sophia," he called, finally raising his head and meeting her gaze. "I need you to check something out."