The Anomaly's Path

Chapter 126: DO NOT BUY THIS Chapter!!!

『 AFFINITIES 』

∟ Lightning

∟ Space

∟ Soul Flame (Evolved from Black Flame / Continuum Bloodline)

『 ATTRIBUTES 』

∟ STR (Strength) → C+

∟ AGI (Agility) → B-

∟ VIT (Vitality) → C

∟ END (Endurance) → C+

∟ INT (Intelligence) → S

∟ WIL (Willpower) → S

『 SUB-ATTRIBUTES 』

∟ LUCK → Unpredictable

∟ CHARM → SS

『 ENERGY RESERVE 』

∟ Mana Capacity → B- (Continuum Bloodline)

『 MANA BREATHING 』

▸ Foundation Breathing Art

▸ Flowing Vessel Art

『 WEAPON ARTS & MASTERY 』

▸ Eclipse of the Singularity — Tier 2 (34%)

∟ First Form: Fractured Eclipse

∟ Second Form: Heaven’s Divide

『 REGISTERED SKILLS 』

Combat Skills

▸ Flash Instinct — Active/Passive

▸ Spatial Slip — Active

▸ Volt Step — Active

▸ Starlight Steps — Footwork (Grandmaster-rank technique)

▸ Soul Perception (Passive)

Bloodline Skills

▸ Mana Generation — Passive

▸ Energy Siphon — Active

▸ Passive Healing — Passive

▸ Adaptive Resistance — Passive

Utility Skills

▸ Void Storage — Space Affinity

『 ACTIVE QUESTS 』

▸ [!!!!!]

—『 STATUS CLOSED 』—

I stared at the screen.

”Charm SS?” I said out loud, my voice flat.

[Your appearance has changed significantly,] Nova observed. [The white hair. The divine physique. Some people find that... appealing.]

”It is annoying.”

[Is it?]

I did not answer. I did not want to give Nova the satisfaction. But I looked at the Charm stat again. SS. That was higher than my Intelligence and Willpower.

I ran a hand through my white hair, still damp from the bath, and caught my reflection in the dark surface of the water.

...Okay, maybe Nova had a point.

I turned my face slightly, studying the sharp line of my jaw, the water droplets clung to my skin, white hair fell across my forehead like something out of a painting.

”Damn,” I said, smirking. ”I really am beautiful.”

[”...”]

”What? I am just stating facts.”

[I miss when you had low self-esteem.]

”That guy is dead. This is the new me. Deal with it.”

I pushed my hair back from my face and admired my reflection for another moment before shaking my head and look back at the screen.

『 BLOODLINE: CONTINUUM 』

I pressed it. A new interface appeared before me.

_

—『 BLOODLINE: CONTINUUM (Half-Awakened) 』—

∟ Core Concept → The Continuum Bloodline transforms the host’s body into a self-sustaining mana system. It generates energy, converts foreign energy, heals wounds, and adapts to threats. It is not a gift. It is survival weaponized.

∟ Mana Generation (Passive) → The body produces mana naturally, even in mana-scarce environments. The core refills slowly without meditation or external mana. Rate: ~1% of mana pool per minute when empty.

∟ Energy Conversion (Active) → The host can drain ambient energy from surroundings — heat from fire, light from mana-lamps, kinetic force from attacks, and convert it into mana. Currently inefficient (70% energy loss), but efficiency will improve with practice.

∟ Self-Healing (Passive) → The body heals faster than normal humans. Cuts close within hours. Bruises fade overnight. Broken bones mend in days instead of weeks. Healing burns mana, if the core is empty, healing slows to normal human rate.

∟ Adaptive Evolution (Passive) → Every time the host survives a near-death experience, the body adapts. Poisons lose effectiveness. Same injuries hurt less the second time. The body remembers what almost killed it and builds resistance. Adaptation is not instant. It takes time to process trauma.

∟ Limitations (The Cost)

∟ Mana Burn → Pushing generation or conversion too hard damages mana channels from the inside.

∟ Healing Drain → Healing costs mana. Without mana reserves, healing stops.

∟ Adaptation Time → The first encounter with a new threat will hurt. The second will hurt less. The third will barely register.

—『 BLOODLINE CLOSED 』—

_

I read the description twice and it was still the same. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself, this was still impossible.

It wasn’t my Celestial bloodline but the bloodline of The Forgotten One.

Back then, during the process of metamorphosis, I awakened my bloodline and it was still half awakened and so much powerful. There was still half of it left. I didn’t know what to say. Just mana generation sounded so absurd.

A body that can generate mana and never run out meant I could fight without any worry. Besides, my core, before it was B rank was now showing ”???”. It must be related to this bloodline that made my whole body a mana reservoir.

I still have to adapt to this bloodline properly.

But of course there were some costs, but nothing that would harm me much. I closed the bloodline window and opened my skills.

_

—『 SKILLS 』—

▸ Flash Instinct → A sensory-combat skill that sharpens instincts and reaction time to supernatural levels. it borders on limited precognition in combat. The user can feel attacks before they are thrown, sense hidden enemies lurking in shadows, and react to ambushes before conscious thought processes the threat. The skill is always active, a constant hum in the back of the user’s mind that flares white-hot when danger approaches.

▸ Volt Step → An evolution of Starlight Steps that infuses the footwork with lightning affinity. The user channels black electricity through their legs and feet, becoming a blur of dark lightning that leaves crackling afterimages in their wake. The voltage trails behind them, stunning anyone too close to their path. Short-range burst movement designed for closing distances or escaping encirclement.

▸ Spatial Slip → A space affinity technique that allows the user to teleport their sword or anything small mid-swing. The blade vanishes from the user’s hand and reappears at any point within a short radius inside an enemy’s guard, behind their back, bypassing shields, parries, and physical barriers entirely. High mana cost. Still being refined; the teleportation can sometimes be off by inches.

▸ Void Pocket → A space affinity utility skill that creates a small pocket dimension anchored to the user’s soul. Items without living souls can be stored inside weapons, supplies, equipment, loot. The pocket cannot hold living beings or objects with strong divine blessings. The pocket’s capacity grows as the user’s rank increases.

▸ Soul Perception (Passive) → A gift from Mia Rayner’s Soul Weaving power. The user can perceive souls — their presence, their strength, their emotional state, their true intentions. He can feel when someone is lying, when someone is afraid, when someone is hiding something behind a smile. He can see the ”color” or ”texture” of a soul, distinguishing between the pure and the corrupted, the living and the undead, the human and the demon in disguise.

▸ Mana Generation (Passive) → A Continuum Bloodline skill. The user’s body produces mana naturally, even in mana-scarce environments where the air is thin of energy. The core refills without meditation, without conscious effort, without external mana sources. Rate is approximately 1% of total mana pool per minute when empty.

▸ Energy Siphon (Active) → A Continuum Bloodline skill that allows the user to drain ambient energy from their surroundings, heat from fire, light from mana-lamps, kinetic force from incoming attacks, residual mana from the air and convert it into usable mana stored in the core. Currently operates at 30% efficiency, meaning 70% of the drained energy is lost in conversion. Efficiency improves with practice and experience.

▸ Passive Healing (Passive) → A Continuum Bloodline skill that accelerates the body’s natural healing processes. Cuts close within hours, bruises fade overnight, broken bones mend in days rather than weeks. The healing burns mana to fuel the accelerated recovery. If the mana core is empty, healing slows to normal human rate.

▸ Adaptive Resistance (Passive) → A Continuum Bloodline skill that allows the body to learn from near-death experiences. When the user survives a life-threatening encounter, their body adapts. Poisons that almost killed them become less effective over time. A monster claw that tore through their skin will find tougher flesh the next time. The same injury hurts less the second time, and barely registers the third. Adaptation is not instant; the body requires time to process the trauma and build resistance.

—『 SKILLS CLOSED 』—

_

I stared at the list. I had four bloodline skills and four combat skills. One utility skill which I got from the quest system.

It was not flashy. But it was good.

[You are not Arthur,] Nova said. [You will never have a dozen S-rank skills. But what you have, you have earned. And what you have, you understand.]

I nodded slowly.

Then I opened the quest log.

_

—『 QUEST LOG 』—

『 MAIN QUEST 』

▸ The World’s Ending

∟ Objective → Defeat the Abyss King

∟ Time Remaining → ???

∟ Reward → ???

∟ Penalty → World Destruction / Host Death

『 MANDATORY QUEST 』

▸ Path Awakening

∟ Status → Completed

∟ Reward Received → Bloodline Awakening / Bonus Skill

『 CHAIN QUEST 』

▸ Defy the Fate

∟ Status → Completed

∟ Reward Received → Rank Core Evolution

—『 QUEST LOG CLOSED 』—

_

”Fuck...” I said while looking at the quest log. It was still the same. Since the day I came back from the path trial, the quest log had changed. Before, it showed the time. Now it was just showing ”???”

When I asked Nova about this.

”Three question marks,” I said. ”What does that mean?”

[It means the timeline has changed,] Nova said. [The original time and the original future you knew from the game, it is no longer accurate. You have entered the trial and survived... you have altered the course of history.]

I stared at the three question marks.

Ten years had been a countdown. A deadline. A clock ticking toward the end of the world. Now there was no clock. Just uncertainty.

I sighed while leaning my back against the edge of the bath and let the water cover my shoulders.

The steam rose around me, thick and white, and the scent of lavender filled my nostrils. The status screen had faded, and the blue-black light had vanished, and the room was quiet except for the soft drip of water from the edge of the tub.

I stared at the ceiling.

Almost five to six months. That was how long it had been since the day I came back from the trial. So many things had happened in just the past few months. I also turned 18.

First, the shock of waking up in that broken capsule, surrounded by shattered glass and the smell of smoke. Then the realization that while I had lived through a lifetime in the War of Faith, the world had kept turning without me.

Six to seven months. That was how long I had been gone. For the world, I was dead.

Everyone thought I was dead. It made sense, didn’t it?

No one came back from the Path Trial after seven months. The trial was supposed to take weeks, maybe two months at most. Seven months of silence meant only one thing to everyone who knew. Failure. Death. The end of a failed noble who couldn’t even survive his own trial.

Except my family.

They never stopped believing. Even when the weeks turned to months, when the servants whispered behind their hands, when the nobles began to circle like vultures waiting for the weak to fall. They waited.

And then I came back.

But for the rest of the world?

Leo von Celestial was still dead. The Scum of the Human Domain, the failure of the Celestial House, the boy who couldn’t even complete his own Path Trial. That was the story everyone believed. That was the story I let them believe.

I kept my identity hidden. No one knew I was alive, and I didn’t want to explain what happened in that trial or when I came back. I mean, come on. When I returned, there was literally a fucking scar in the sky, a phenomenon that was supposed to happen later in the game but happened earlier because I survived the trial.

And honestly?

I don’t anyone to disturb me and I will gave them shock later that I am alive.

So I stayed quiet. I stayed hidden. I trained in the shadows of my uncle’s territory, far from the prying eyes of the capital, and I waited.

That was why I told my parents not to tell anyone. They didn’t like it. My mother cried. My father clenched his jaw and stared at the wall for a long time before he finally nodded. But they understood.

Other than that, the major event that happened while I was gone was the revelation of the new hero. Arthur Vale. The Goddess’s Chosen One, her Apostle and Sword.

His identity was revealed to the world while I was fighting for my life in that trail.

The Holy Kingdom of Sanctyra announced it first, a grand ceremony, bells ringing across the capital, priests falling to their knees in tears. The Goddess had chosen her champion. The Hero had returned to the world.

And everyone believed it.

The churches sang his praises. The common people worshipped him. The nobles scrambled to align themselves with the new power rising in the world. Even the Astra Union took notice, dispatching envoys to verify the claim, to measure the strength of this new hero, to decide whether he was a threat or an asset.

The whole world was shaken.

A new hero.

A new hope.

A new symbol for humanity to rally behind.

I had known Arthur before any of this. Before the title, the worship, the weight of the world was placed on his shoulders. I have played the game or at least what it was. I don’t know how much I can trust the game now. He was just a boy with golden eyes and nightmares he couldn’t escape. A boy who trained in silence and smiled only when he thought no one was watching.

Now he was the hope of humanity.

I didn’t know how to feel about that. Part of me was happy for him.

He deserved to be seen, to be valued, to be something more than the broken child who had been found in the ruins of his old life. But Heroes died.

Heroes were used. Heroes were paraded around like trophies until they broke, and then they were replaced and what happened to him in the game. He lost the fight against the Abyss King.

The past few months had been... strange.

My parents barely let me out of their sight at first. My mother cried every time she looked at me for the first week. My father found excuses to be in the same room as me, pretending to read, pretending to work, but I saw the way his eyes kept drifting toward me, like he was afraid I would disappear if he looked away.

Lyra was worse. She barely slept. Every time I turned around, she was there silent, watchful, her hand never far from her blade. I caught her standing outside my door at night more than once. She never admitted it.

Mia was the worst of all. My little sister. She climbed into my bed every night for the first month, her small body pressed against my side, her fingers clutching my shirt like she was afraid I would vanish in the morning. She didn’t talk about it. She didn’t ask where I had been or what I had seen. She just held on.

I let her. I held on too.

But eventually, I needed to move. I needed to train. I needed to understand what I had become.

That was why I came here. To my uncle Theron’s territory. The place where I had first learned to hold a sword, where I had begun to understand what it meant to fight. Uncle Theron didn’t ask questions. He just looked at me with those sharp eyes, nodded once, and handed me a practice sword.

”Get to work,” he said.

And I did.

For months, I pushed myself. I hunted monsters in the frozen forests, testing my new body against beasts that would have killed me before the trial.

I sparred with Uncle Theron’s knights, learning to control my new strength, my new speed, reflexes. I practiced my skills until my muscles burned and my mana ran dry, and then I practiced some more.

My body had changed.

The metamorphosis had rebuilt me from the inside out. I was faster, stronger and more durable. My mana channels were wider, smoother, able to handle more power than before. My core if it could still be called a core was different now. It wasn’t just a container anymore.

It was part of me. My whole body was part of it.

I tested my affinities.

Lightning came easiest. The black electricity crackled along my fingers like an old friend, eager and familiar.

Before the trial, I could barely channel it through my blade without losing control.

Now?

Now I could weave it into my strikes, my steps, defenses. I could shape it into bolts that arced across entire training yards.

I could wrap it around my body like a second skin lightning armor that shocked anyone who dared touch me. I still couldn’t match Seraphina’s raw output that woman was a storm in human form but I was getting there.

Space was trickier. It always had been. But I was improving.

The Spatial Slip was more reliable now only off by inches instead of feet. I could teleport Tempest mid-swing with enough accuracy to bypass most guards. My Void Pocket had grown too, its capacity expanding as my rank increased. I could feel the space around me now, the folds and ripples that others couldn’t see. The way reality bent when I pushed against it.

And I was working on something new.

Short-range teleportation was one thing. A blink across a room, a step through a fold in space. But what about long-range? What about crossing a battlefield in the span of a heartbeat? What about stepping through a door and emerging miles away?

I wasn’t there yet. Not even close. Every attempt left me dizzy and nauseous, my mana channels burning from the strain. But I could feel it. The potential. The possibility. Space was not a wall. It was a door. And one day, I was going to learn how to open it.

Then there was the Soul Flame.

Mia’s gift. The black flame that had lived in my chest since Wayford had evolved into something else after she pressed Tempest into her heart. It was no longer just black. Now it pulsed with a hollow purple light at its core, hungry and patient and terribly, terribly cold.

I opened the affinity description.

_

—『 AFFINITY: SOUL FLAME 』—

∟ Origin → Evolved from Black Flame (Continuum Bloodline) + Soul Weaver’s Gift (Mia Rayner)

∟ Core Nature → The Soul Flame does not burn flesh. It burns existence itself souls, memories, attachments, skills, and the threads that bind a being to reality. It is not fire. It is the concept of consumption given form.

∟ Primary Effect (Soul Burn) → When the Soul Flame touches a living being, it does not scorch skin or melt bone. It reaches past the physical and attacks the soul directly. The target feels themselves being unmade, their memories fading, their will crumbling, their very identity burning away. Death by Soul Flame is not death. It is erasure.

∟ Secondary Effect (Skill Consumption) → When the Soul Flame consumes a being, there is a chance, small, unpredictable, that it will absorb fragments of that being’s skills or abilities. These fragments are not full skills. They are echoes. Impressions. But they can be converted into raw stat points or used to enhance existing skills or get the skills.

∟ Tertiary Effect (Soul Fuel) → The Soul Flame grows stronger when it feeds. Each soul it consumes makes it hungrier. Each fire it lights makes it burn brighter. There is no upper limit. There is only hunger.

∟ Limitation (The Cost) → The Soul Flame is not a tool. It is a parasite. Every time Leo uses it, he feels it pulling at him his warmth, his emotions, his sense of self. Prolonged use causes emotional numbness, detachment, and a growing apathy toward life and death. The flame does not care who it burns. It only cares that it burns.

∟ Warning → The Soul Flame is addictive. The more you uses it, the easier it becomes to justify using it again. The flame will whisper. It will promise power. It will offer solutions to problems that seem impossible to solve any other way. You must resist. Or the flame will consume him too.

—『 AFFINITY CLOSED 』—

_

I stared at the description and felt something cold settle in my chest.

The flame was dangerous. Not because it could kill me, though it could, but because it could change me. Every time I used it, I felt myself slipping. It has the same drawback as Mia’s powers.

I had experimented with it over the past few months. Hunted monsters in the frozen forests and burned them with Soul Flame instead of lightning. Their bodies crumble to ash while their souls screamed in silence.

And every time, I felt the flame pull at me. Whisper to me. Promise me things I hadn’t asked for.

It wanted to feed. It was always hungry. And when I fed it, I felt... good. Too good. The kind of good that made me want to feed it again.

I also discovered something else. Sometimes, when the flame consumed a monster, I would feel something slip into me. A fragment. An echo. A skill that belonged to something else, now burned into my soul.

Most of them were useless. Trash skills. Things I would never use. But I learned that I could burn those fragments too, convert them into raw stats. Strength. Agility. Endurance. Small gains, but gains nonetheless.

The flame gave and the flame took.

”...I need to be careful,” I said quietly.

[Yes,] Nova agreed. [You need to.]

I closed the status screen and pushed the thoughts away. There would be time to worry about the flame later. For now, I had other things to do.

I sighed, leaning my head back against the edge of the bath.

So much had happened. And so much was still to come.

Soon, the story would start. The game’s main plot. The events I had spent years studying, memorizing, preparing for. The Heroes would rise. The villains would scheme. The world would burn and be reborn.

....And I would have to play my part.

I was an Apostle now.

That was still strange to think about. The Watcher’s Apostle. The being behind my reincarnation, the one who had pulled me from my world and dropped me into this one had claimed me as its own. I had tried to learn more about it.

I searched through every record, every archive, every dusty tome I could find. There was nothing. Even in the present timeline, with all my knowledge of the game, I couldn’t find any mention of the Watcher.

It was like it didn’t exist. Like it had never existed.

And yet, I could feel it.

In the hollow space behind my heart. In the glow of my Soul Flame. My bloodline hummed when I pushed it too far.

I didn’t know what it wanted. I didn’t know why it had chosen me. I didn’t know if I was a tool or a weapon or just a piece on a board I couldn’t see.

But I would find out eventually.

For now, I had other things to worry about.

”Well....,” I said, pushing myself out of the bath. Water cascaded down my body, dripping onto the stone floor in soft, rhythmic splashes.

I reached for a towel and began to dry myself, running the cloth through my white hair, over my shoulders, down my arms. My hairs has become too long, I have to cut them but later. My body was still strange to me sometimes the new muscles, the new proportions, the way the light caught on my skin like I was made of something more than flesh.

I caught my reflection in the polished metal of the bath’s edge.

White hair and a divine face stare back.

”Still beautiful though,” I muttered.

[Modest as always.]

”Shut up.”

I dressed quickly dark pants, a loose shirt, boots that had seen better days. My sword waited for me by the door, propped against the wall like a loyal dog waiting for its master to return.

Tempest.

I picked it up and strapped it to my hip, the weight familiar and grounding. I had gotten a message from my father a few days ago. ”Come home. Your mother misses you. So does your sister. And something is coming up.”

I said to no one in particular. ”...Time to go home.”