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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/arekban on 2024-07-26 21:13:18+00:00.

Synopsis: Markus is summoned from Earth by evil beings looking for a ‘weak and primitive’ creature to use as sacrificial entertainment. What they got instead was a human. Immediately after arriving, Markus awakens to an ability so rare, so powerful that it makes every god on Firrelia desperate to recruit him as their new champion.

Learning to control his innate mastery over mana, Markus will devour the very essence of any monster, demon, or god that dares get in his way, determined to never lose his freedom again.

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Contrary to Markus’ mounting skepticism, Rika actually returned with genuinely useful books.

Before that, however, Markus was left with about an hour to himself. He had three and a half until his fight, and the time he was left alone in his cell he mainly spent planning. Better that than curling up in a ball, and he was past lamenting his situation. He’d gotten that shit off his chest already, or at least as much of it as he was going to.

It was just him and his destined appearance now, and like it or not, he was doing it.

Cyrus was once again missing. He’d been hoping to chat with him about a couple of his options, but they’d taken him once again in the time that Markus had been gone. He had no clue where. He’d have thought there was no chance they’d have him fighting twice in a day, but he’d have considered the same for himself not long ago. He chose to put it out of his mind. Cyrus was strong. He’d most likely be safe.

Didn’t truly stop him worrying, but he had himself to consider right now. He’d always felt guilty if he was considering himself over others, something that had been ingrained in him over a lengthy, shitty past, but that feeling could go fuck itself right now because worrying wasn’t gonna get him through this. There’d be time for feeling bad about other people after he’d saved his own skin.

So Markus set to doing just that. Mana stones got filled. He made a total inventory of his mana.

D Grade Mystic.

C, D, and E Grade Life.

C, D, E, and F Grades Blood.

F Grade Wind.

F Grade Earth (of which he had almost none).

D, E, F, and G Grades Spirit.

G and E Grade Frost.

E and D Grade Flame.

D Grade Shock.

E Grade Caustic.

A Grade Divine.

He was keeping the Mystic Mana in his D Grade Essence Stone. The higher grades of Blood and Life Mana were within him, as was the Divine Mana, the Wind Mana, the Earth, multiple grades of Spirit, the Frost, the Caustic, and the higher grade of Flame.

Each would need an intended purpose. These mana types were his weapons, and while all he currently knew about his opponent was that it breathed fire, couldn’t fly, was larger than him, and was a D Grade monster, he couldn’t make any definitive assumptions about it. Sure, that could be a dragon or wyvern or something, but it could be a million, trillion other things.

And so he needed to prepare for what happened if it wasn’t. The way he’d approach an armored target would differ to how he’d approach a squishy one, and the way he fought a creature impervious to its own flames would have to differ to one still vulnerable to fire.

Then there was the matter of size. The creature was said to be multiple times the size of a horse. It wasn’t specific. Three times larger? Twenty times?

That made a difference too. All these variables made Markus consider harder what to grab and what to hang onto. He knew his opponent could breathe fire, but did it have other tricks he needed worry about?

Regardless, using his Adaptive Resistance for the first time, Markus started setting up the process to building a resistance to fire within himself.

He’d gotten this passive before his third fight, a benefit of all the points he’d put into Arcana, and this was the only time it’d made sense to burn the mana necessary to use it, a moment in which he actually had an idea of what element he was currently up against.

The resistance required D Grade Mana of a corresponding type to generate, and would last until the mana was depleted or until a new resistance was chosen. It was his first time using the passive, and he didn’t have a fuckton of D Grade Flame Mana to spare, so while he was glad to have the option, he realised that such a barrier wouldn’t last under strain for long. He might be able to absorb some flames from attacks and keep the barrier going for a while, but he had a feeling the damage from being breathed flame on would outclass the mitigation of the passive, and would probably give him less mana than it took to block the damage in the first place.

Or, he could be pleasantly mistaken and find this made him effectively able to heal off fire. Probably not though.

That was his Flame Mana all but accounted for. He’d need the rest for maintaining his resistance, meaning he’d have to be frugal with how many Detonates he was willing to cast. He needed at least enough for a couple, though, but the E Grade Flame Mana would be sufficient to pull that off. He had enough within his glaive to do so a few times at max.

Frozen Tomb’s icy field was unlikely to be of use this fight, the creature likely able to smash through the ice or nullify it with heat. Still, the ability the skill gave him to summon icicles could definitely come in handy, and was one of his only current means of attacking from range, so he elected to keep a good portion of Frost Mana within his body.

His current Mana Capacity was over 7000. He had plenty of space to do what he needed.

Spirit Mana was his bread and butter. He used it for almost everything. Rend was important, too, as was staying alive, so the higher grades of Blood Mana stayed within his body for their greater potency in healing and blood-based abilities.

Then there was the Wind Mana…

His opponent was likely to be in the air. He was a Jumpmaster, wearing a lightweight set of armour, bolstered by magical greaves that made him lighter and take less fall damage. He was practically built for aerial combat at this point. The only thing he was missing was a good source of Wind Mana, let alone an understanding of it.

Bat cores…

He had 12. Those were regular monsters. Native to the caves below. No reason to feel bad about using them.

They were G Grade. He could combine them to roll for a higher potency of core.

He did so.

Four combined into an F Grade core. Six more combined into another F Grade core with a different passive, and the final two didn’t combine at all.

One offered a single flap of wind during travel per hour to boost yourself slightly higher, something Markus envisioned somewhat akin to a double jump, and the other offered a basic enhancement on hearing.

…double jump. Who the fuck wasn’t picking that.

Combination options didn’t stop there, however. That hearing passive bat core could be combined with a slime core and a giant core to form a ruined cavedweller core.

Ruined… what the fuck did that mean?

Markus had tried staring at the giant cores since his revelation to determine more about them, but their label had never changed. Casting [Identify] whilst looking within himself at the empty space in which they swirled hadn’t elucidated him much either, but he knew there was something wrong about them. He could feel it, an almost permanent weight on his chest.

Had he felt that way since he’d picked them up, or only since his discovery? It was hard to say. Markus was constantly between some ache or pain or discomfort or other lately. Needless to say, whether it was in his head or not, something about them felt wrong. Like they didn’t belong where they sat, constantly brushing against his spirit, a reminder of what he’d done.

“You were like me, right?”

That’s it. He was talking to himself. He’d told himself he wasn’t gonna get caught up in emotions now, but here he was talking to himself. God fucking damnit, man. Just bottle it up, move on, prepare for your fucking death match and—

“I didn’t know you were people once. I feel really bad about killing you guys.”

He almost swore he felt something swirl inside of him. He clutched a hand to his chest, his fingers feeling numb. Was it… recognition?

He was probably imagining it. Probably just his addled, stressed out mind pushing him away from doing what he was thinking about doing. Or maybe pushing him towards it. He couldn’t fucking tell.

“I can’t imagine how you feel.” Markus rubbed the back of his neck. He stared at the wall as he spoke. “I was kidnapped too, and…” he sighed. Was he really doing this?

He inhaled.

“I got kidnapped. I got to fight back though. Or at least… feel like I’m fighting back. And I kept hold of my own mind. I mean, maybe not entirely, because I’m sat here talking to you, but…” Markus shrugged. He laughed dryly. “Sounds like you didn’t get any of that. You just got cursed. Dumped in a dark, shitty dungeon and forced to fight for your lives until someone came along and ended them. You didn’t deserve that.”

He felt a pulse resonate through his body. He hadn’t imagined that one, or if he did, the hallucination was really fucking lucid.

He looked within himself. Really felt out the motions of the mana resonating within his body. To think that he was actually getting some kind of sapient response from within was ludicro…

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