Chapter 38. The Skill Stone

Chapter 38. The Skill Stone

At last, another level of the training room was completed.

Each time it took longer, but the rewards also grew.

Alisar received seven hundred million experience points and immediately leveled up four times.

---

Name: Alisar

Level: 122 (0 out of 205,000,000)

Rank: 5

HP: 36,170 + 3,840
MP: 120,020 + 3,840
Strength: 1,223 + 128
Defense: 1,196 + 128
Speed: 1,198 + 128
Intellect: 4,014 + 128
Magic Power: 3,997 + 128
Magic Defense: 4,007

Free Attribute Points: 2,160

Skills: —

Special Skills:
— Training Room (Level 48)
— Alchemy (Rank 2)

Unused Experience Points: 49,978,051

---

He lingered, staring at the stat screen.

“Should I spend all my free attribute points, as usual, to boost my mana reserves? Or maybe I should invest in other parameters? Strength, defense, speed… Compared to intellect, magic power, and magic defense, they look pathetic. Perhaps it’s finally time to raise them?”

The thought weighed on him heavily.

“No… not yet,” he muttered, deciding to postpone the choice.

The attribute points remained untouched. The decision would be made later—when it became clear what exactly he would need most.

Alisar was about to lie down to sleep when a persistent knock echoed at the door.

Reluctantly, he got up and went to open it. On the threshold stood Sherial.

“Good evening. Glad to see you’re not asleep yet,” she said with a light smile.

“Hi… Yeah. I was just about to lie down,” Alisar replied, feeling slightly awkward.

He was nervous. Her last unexpected visit still left an unpleasant aftertaste in his memory.

“Well then,” Sherial said with a hint in her tone. “Are you going to keep me standing here, or will you invite me in?”

“Oh, sorry. Of course, come in.” He hurriedly stepped aside, clearing the way.

Sherial walked in confidently and went straight to the table. Without asking, she sat down. After a short pause, Alisar sat across from her.

“Don’t worry so much,” Sherial said calmly, sensing his tension. “I came today to make you a good offer.”

“A good offer?” Alisar repeated, slightly puzzled.

Sherial pulled an object out of her bag and carefully placed it on the table. It looked like a stone, yet also like a piece of transparent glass. Lights flickered within, and on the surface faint lines were visible—like ancient script.

Alisar leaned closer.

“What is this?”

“Something that will solve your recent problem,” Sherial replied. “You were worrying that even after reaching Rank Five, you still haven’t obtained a single offensive skill.”

“A… skill stone?” he cautiously guessed.

“Exactly,” Sherial nodded. “And only for you, as the newest member of our team, I’m willing to sell it with a fifty-percent discount. Just five thousand gold coins.”

Alisar hesitated. Could this really be a skill stone? He had never seen one with his own eyes before. All he knew came from Rem: such stones never cost less than ten thousand gold coins.

And Sherial was offering it for five thousand. Too good a price. Almost too good to be true.

But she wouldn’t lie to me… he tried to reassure himself. We’re in the same team now. She has no reason to harm me.

Still, doubts lingered.

“Seems like you’re still hesitating?” Sherial noted, calmly watching him. “Before paying, you can try it out.”

“Try… it out?” Alisar frowned. “How?”

“It’s simple,” she said with a slight smile. “Take the stone in your hand and focus on it.”

Carefully, Alisar picked up the stone, brought it closer to his face, and stared into its transparent depths.

“No need to look so serious,” Sherial giggled softly.

But at that very moment, a familiar window appeared before his eyes:

---

Use the Skill Stone to obtain the skill ‘Magic Arrow’?
[Yes] [No]

---

Without hesitation, Alisar mentally chose “Yes.”

The message vanished, and the stone in his hands suddenly shone, crumbling into fine glowing dust. For a few seconds it danced in the air, then dissolved, as if it had never existed.

At the same moment, Alisar felt something hot surge into his palm, spreading quickly through his whole body like a current. A clear word blazed in his mind—Magic Arrow. Along with it came the knowledge of exactly how to use the new skill.

Without thinking, he raised his hands and aimed at the wall. Heat gathered in his palms, forming a transparent arrow. It quivered in the air, ready to be unleashed.

Shoot, he thought.

The energy arrow shot forward.

Boom! A dull impact rang out. Echoes rolled through the room, and a small dent remained in the wall. The damage was minimal, but in the silence of the night, the sound seemed deafening.

“Hey, hey!” Sherial threw up her hands. “Don’t shoot in here! The innkeeper won’t be happy if we have to pay for repairs. These walls aren’t cheap!”

She smirked and added:

“Well, now you definitely have to pay. The skill stone can’t be returned. Item consumed.”

Alisar looked at the vanished artifact and only smiled faintly. Indeed, there was no way to return it. But for the first time, he felt the thrilling rush of real power. He liked it.

He quickly pulled out his pouch and counted fifty platinum coins.

Sherial took the money and nodded with satisfaction.

But before pocketing them, she looked him in the eye:

“And one more thing. At Rank One, this skill won’t be very useful to you. So make sure to practice. In your training room, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to learn to shoot properly. At the very least—how to hit the target.”

She smirked again and added:

“This skill may be weak compared to others, but it’s simple. Its rank can be raised easily, and in certain situations it can be extremely useful.”

But Alisar hardly heard her words. Inside, excitement still burned: at last, he had a true magical skill. An offensive magical skill.

“Well, looks like you’re not listening to me at all,” Sherial shook her head.

“N-no, I am!” Alisar replied quickly, almost panicking.

“Anyway, you can’t use it here,” she continued. “But in your training room—go ahead. According to Rem, it’s sturdy enough to handle it.”

Sherial stood up and headed for the door.

“And also… tomorrow, after noon, we’ll have to go somewhere. Be ready.”

“Yes, of course,” Alisar nodded absentmindedly. All his thoughts were consumed by his new skill.

As soon as Sherial left, Alisar couldn’t resist—he immediately activated Training Room.

In an instant, he disappeared from the inn room and appeared in a spacious hall.

Looking around, he frowned—there were no proper targets here.

With a sigh, he returned to his room, grabbed a chair, and muttered:

“This chair shouldn’t be too expensive, right? Well… I’ll pay for it tomorrow.”

He activated Training Room again, this time carrying the chair. He set it down in one corner and stepped to the opposite side.

The distance was a bit under twenty meters—about eighteen or nineteen.

Alisar extended his hand. As before, warmth flowed through his palm, shaping into something transparent.

Seconds later, a magical arrow formed before him. He shot—miss.

He tried again. And again. And again.

Dozens of arrows missed or barely grazed the chair’s edge. But little by little, his accuracy improved.

Finally, after about a hundred attempts, the chair was reduced to splinters scattered across the floor.

Alisar didn’t stop. He kept firing, breaking even the fragments into dust, until nothing remained but a heap of fine wood shavings.

Sweating, but satisfied, he exhaled heavily.

“Tomorrow I’ll have to clean this all up,” he muttered, looking at the mess.

Fatigue suddenly crashed over him. He knew it was time to sleep. But with his first offensive skill at last in his hands, he couldn’t resist indulging.

Alisar returned to his inn room, washed up, and collapsed onto the bed. Exhaustion pressed down on him, but along with it came a long-forgotten feeling.

He felt like a child who had just received the toy he’d dreamed of for so long. Everything else—fatigue, worries, doubts—faded into the background.

It was enough that he finally had a real offensive skill.

With these thoughts, Alisar smiled. Still clutching that joy and excitement in his sleep, he drifted off.

A faint, content smile remained on his face.