Rewind: A Grimdark LitRPG Series (Pyresouls Apocalypse, Book 1) by James Callum (reading tree .txt) 📕

He never remembered gaining more than a single skill level, no matter how hard the enemies were or how great his skill had progressed.

But rather than achieving level 2 in mace skill, he was at level 5. Could Alice have been wrong? While he wasn’t skilled in using a mace, he understood the mechanics well enough to wield one.

Maybe Pyresouls was trying to sync up his innate knowledge with his skill level. He needed to find a sword. If he could, and he was indeed gaining enhanced skill levels to match his knowledge, he would gain tens of levels.

Back on Earth, his sword skill was a lofty 75.

He never would have thought he could take both of them before. At 800 Souls each, they were far more rewarding than the typical Vacant. Too bad they couldn’t be farmed for an easy boost to Souls.

Doubling back to the Pyre would waste another hour or more he didn’t have and the only benefit would be to raise another parameter. Something he could do at the next Pyre instead, all while gaining ground.

Jacob edged forward toward the broken corpse and touched its sapphire wisp, curious what item it held.

You gain a [Dull Spark].

Now he really was tempted to return to the Pyre.

Which was a shame, because once he found some proper armor he would need [Dull Sparks] to upgrade it.

He had to remind himself that this wasn’t the weapon he wanted to continue using. And he most definitely did not want to keep these ratty robes on him. One look down at the throbbing gash across his chest and the blood-soaked parchment-colored robes confirmed that.

Jacob turned around, leaving the tunnel behind and taking the other path in the fork. His [Plank Shield] vanished with a swirl of ash, a glowing glass ampoule appeared in his left palm.

Crushing the [Cinder Ampoule], the mote of flame held within bloomed and spread across his entire body. It was a tiny fragment of the Fire Oppa’s Pyre and as such, it didn’t hurt but healed.

His wounds knit in an instant and for a single moment, the comforting warmth of the Pyre was with him.

All too soon, it was gone, and Jacob was alone again.

That was something he’d need to get used to again. Even after the Collapse, he was always part of some group or another. The lowest points of his entire life were the times he was alone.

You couldn’t sleep, couldn’t take a break, and even if you tried it didn’t work. Knowing what was out there made it impossible. Your brain was constantly in a state of hypervigilance.

At least in Pyresouls the fighting and struggling didn’t last years. The competition hardly lasted two weeks before Alec found the Burgon Beast and inadvertently let it loose upon the world.

If all else failed, Jacob knew exactly where that was and what time. At the very least he could be there, beside Alec to help him battle the Burgon Beast. If he could even find Alec.

By the time the monster began collapsing the shards and destroying Pyres, it would be too late. And if he was already behind Alec at that point, he didn’t like his chances of facing the Burgon Beast alone.

Jacob needed to not only get there before Alec, but to do so with more strength and power than the other man.

If things went according to plan, he would beat Alec there and destroy the Burgon Beast himself. Somehow. It wasn’t like Alec had beaten the creature and was able to pass on his winning strategy.

As if to contrast his suddenly darkening thoughts, a watery gray light bloomed at the end of the dark tunnel.

After the oppressive darkness of the tunnels through the Razorpass, Jacob had to squint against the ashen sunlight that greeted him as he emerged northward out of the tunnel.

High up in the mountains, he could easily spot the winding switchback that would lead him down to either the Stalking Woods dead north, or into the narrow canyon passage that was Weslyn’s Watch to the northwest.

As much as he felt the tug of familiarity pulling him to the Stalking Wood, he knew where his path lay and instead turned northeast along a narrow scree-ridden path that would take him to the Steps of Penance.

There, according to Alec, he would find the body of a Knight and be able to get some proper gear. Not to mention, there was a Pyre nearby that would allow him to rest and recover.

With those 1,600 Souls, he would be able to reinforce a parameter twice. No doubt there were nasty things waiting for him up ahead. The pale daylight that filtered from above didn’t make him feel any better.

Something was wrong with the sun in Pyresouls, it didn’t warm the way it should. There was a coldness to everything that slowly wormed its way into your very bones. That bleak, gray light promised nothing. No hope. No brighter tomorrow.

Picking his way carefully ahead, the slippery mountain path began to spread and open its arms wide, revealing a vast mist-filled gorge between the towering mountain he was on and a taller one wreathed in a mantle of white snow in the distance.

“The Steps of Penance are inappropriately named,” Alec had said. “It’s a massive, half-broken bridge. You’ll want to find the narrow paths and long beams on top of the bridge and on the edges.

“Do not go inside. There are all manner of ghoulish creatures within the twisting hallways beneath the top level of the bridge. They are the stuff of nightmares. You remember asking me why I insisted on finding an alternative route instead of crossing the Arlington Memorial Bridge in D.C.? It’s because of the Steps of Penance. Mind your footing, Jacob. And for God’s sake, whatever you do: Do not go inside the bridge.”

“I hate heights,” Jacob muttered as he made his way down to the base of the wide bridge. Drawing near, he could see exactly what Alec had meant.

The damn thing was falling