Ren scrolled through the list of available skills. It was one of his favorite pastimes, and though he occasionally worried it was a waste of his time, he did not worry enough to stop.

  By this time, he had the list nearly memorized. He couldn’t help but review the details every time, nothing not just what the skill could do but also how many skill points it would cost to learn, how much mana it would cost to cast, and so on. Ren also kept a record of when each skill appeared and what he thought he’d done to earn it.

  A lot of that was guesswork. There was no notification when he unlocked a skill, so it was only by checking so often that he could narrow down the timeline of when he’d performed the prerequisite action.

  As part of his research, Ren did his best not to spend any of his skill points. It was common knowledge that every learned skill unlocked access to more advanced paths. Some scholars were calling it a “skill tree,” since the paths seemed to continually branch, eventually diverging completely.

  Ren suspected that it was possible to access the later skills without spending points on the earlier ones. It required more study and higher affinity, but if a person was willing to put in the legwork, his efforts could pay off tenfold.

  Ren pulled up his status.

  Name: Ren

  Race: Human

  Class: Scholar

  Level: 35

  HP: 100/100

  MP: 100/100

  EXP: 9,500/16,000

  Stat Points Available: 0

  STR: 10

  AGI: 10

  INT: 60

  WIS: 10

  CON: 10

  Skill Points Available: 21

  Skills: None

  Earth Affinity: 12

  At first, his unwillingness to spend his SP was driven more by his own indecision than anything else. He couldn’t choose between the skills and deeply feared the permanence of the choice.

  As time went on, Ren realized that his skill list was expanding along with his knowledge. That made the choice seem even more impossible, and he even resisted the scholarly skills that would improve his study, choosing to rely heavily on INT instead.

  But there was one skill that continued to call his name.

  Breathing

  Breathe in, breathe out, repeat. You’ve been doing this your whole life, but now you can do it… better?

  It was the only skill he knew of which truly had no cost. There were no mana points associated with breathing, nor was this one of those rare skills which required HP to cast.

  Breathing didn’t even cost a skill point to learn!

  Ren blinked. That couldn’t be true. Was that true? How had he not noticed that before?

  Ren flipped through his journal, searching for the last time he’d written down Breathing. It would have been an early entry, since that skill had always been on his list. It was on everyone’s list.

  There it was, faithfully recorded. Breathing, one SP. The name was the same, the description the same. The only difference was that now, for some reason, the skill was free.

  Ren’s breath caught in his throat. This could change everything. He had to figure out what he had done to make the skill free — and surely there was a way to repeat the achievement! If mastery was the requirement, why wasn’t Breathing free for everyone? As far as he was aware, Ren wasn’t any more skilled at it than anyone else he knew.

  His pen flowed across the page as he listed every question. This discovery was going to change the world, and he would be at the head of it.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The next step was to learn the skill.

  Ren froze. His fingers hovered over the text, trembling. It would be better not to make this discovery alone. Cassian and Virgil would arrive the next day. Surely he could wait until then? That way, he would have witnesses to add credibility to his findings, which even he was having some difficulty believing. His friends would also be eager to help him with further research, and Cassian especially would be put out if he started without them.

  Yes. Ren withdrew his hand, though it was more difficult to pull his eyes away from the skill. It would be better to wait.

  He huffed a laugh. His first skill, and it would be Breathing, of all things.

  In a way, wasn’t that fitting? Nobody ever purchased the Breathing skill. Nobody thought it was worth anything, and that was exactly what drew Ren in. More than anything, he wanted to be at the forefront of a discovery. Ideally, that would be a big, life-changing discovery, but if what he became known for was being the first to learn a skill, even a skill like Breathing, that would suit his needs.

  Ren closed the list of skills. He fixed himself a drink and went out to his porch, where he had a beautiful view of the mountains. A light breeze tousled his hair, and he sighed into it. It was a beautiful day, the kind he longed for after being cooped up in the college libraries. This was the kind of day he’d been itching to show the others — they could keep their fancy cities. True beauty lay in the sun-dappled hills, the swaying of the trees and the rustle of the wildlife. This was why he’d invited them to his family home.

  Still, the next several hours passed interminably slowly. Ren’s status and skill list continued to flicker in and out of his vision as he resisted — barely — the urge to purchase the skill.

  It would be so much better for his research, for his credibility, and for his friendship, to wait for their arrival.

  But oh, the temptation was great.

  It was with great relief that Ren finally laid down to sleep, and with some reluctance that he awoke.

  Cassian and Virgil were due to arrive shortly after midday. It was no time at all to wait, and yet, each hour passed more agonizingly than the last.

  Ren’s fingers trembled over the skill. What harm would it really do? The others had seen his character sheet before. They knew how many skill points he had. They would see the number had not changed.

  His hand slipped. That’s what he told himself, as his fingers pressed against the text.

  Learn Breathing for 0 SP?

  “Yes,” he breathed. With his status open in front of him, he watched the skill appear on his character sheet.

  His next breath caught him by surprise. He inhaled more fully than ever before, filling his body with air that felt fresher than any he’d tasted.

  His exhale was just as impressive. It was such a simple thing, breathing. Most of the time, people did it mindlessly, in the same way that you didn’t have to think about beating your own heart. But when you did think about it — when every inhale and exhale was intentional, drawn out, thoroughly enjoyed — oh what a difference. Ren felt the indrawn air sink into his blood, became aware of every inch of his body, every ache and pain, and he knew that if he breathed into an ache, it would vanish.

  He was so focused on his breath that he almost didn’t notice the tearing of the air. It started with a small spark that came from nothing. The very air seemed to flicker, then rend, like a blade scraping a thin line in parchment. Only it wasn’t a blade, it wasn’t quite smooth enough to be a blade; it more resembled a claw.

  Ren noticed the tear when it was two feet long. He held his breath, but the tear continued to expand. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen. His focus was on earth magic, which this clearly was not. Yet through his discussions with Cassian and Virgil, he was passably knowledgeable on water and fire, and this didn’t appear like anything he’d seen from those schools of magic, either.

  He grabbed his notebook and began to write. His letters came out as scribbles in his haste, but memory could not be fully trusted. If he didn’t write this down as it was happening, there would always be a part of him that disbelieved.

  Out of the tear crawled a creature. It was humanoid in shape, but its head was faceless and torn in two, split down the middle and held together by sticky red liquid. It climbed into Ren’s world like it was climbing over a fence, and when the creature landed on its feet, two swords followed him. They were glittering red-yellow, like rubies and gold forged together.

  Ren rose to his feet, the journal clutched tightly in his grasp. They’d heard stories. Cassian had laughed at them, called them tall tales of the less fortunate, but here was a story come to life. Here was proof that something was wrong, monsters were coming to Grimora.

  This one in particular was coming for Ren.

  The faceless creature turned toward the scholar with such unerring precision that Ren would have sworn the thing could see.

  “What are you?” Ren asked, privately proud of how steady his voice was. “What do you want?”

  The creature didn’t grin, exactly, but it twisted its body in a way that conveyed a grin. “I’m just happy to be here.”