But there was no pause, no chance to breathe.

  Three more dropped from above, wings folding as they slammed down around us. One raked its claws across my back, the impact numbing rather than cutting, and I spun with the force of the blow, letting momentum carry my next strike. Wayfinder cleaved through its arm at the elbow, stone exploding outward as the limb shattered. I followed through and drove the blade up under its chin, splitting the head in half as the light inside guttered out.

  A beam lanced toward Samvek, white-hot and fast. He twisted aside, the edge of it catching his shoulder, scorching fur and armor. It didn’t slow him down. He charged through the pain, spear spinning as he slammed it into the gargoyle’s chest with enough force to lift the creature off the ground. He ripped the weapon free and brought it down again, smashing the head into fragments that scattered across the floor.

  The ground shook as more gargoyles poured in, stone feet pounding, wings beating up clouds of dust and grit. They came at us in a loose wave, five, then seven, then more, all moving faster than creatures that heavy should have been able to. Claws scraped, wings buffeted, beams of light slashed through the air, and the floor became a maze of broken pillars and rising debris.

  I ducked under a sweeping wing and hacked at the joint, feeling resistance give way with a satisfying crack. The wing tore free, and the gargoyle reeled, flailing blindly as I stepped in and drove Wayfinder through its spine. Another slammed into me from the side, the impact throwing me off my feet. I rolled with it, coming up on one knee as its claws slammed down where my head had been. I rose into the strike, blade flashing in a brutal upward arc that split the creature from hip to shoulder.

  Samvek fought with precise constraint, lightning crackling through his fur and dancing along his armor. He was as fluid as a waterfall and equally unstoppable. I admired how quickly he was adapting to his upgrades. He moved constantly, spear darting and retracting, never letting the gargoyles surround him. One tried to grapple him, stone arms locking around his torso, and he answered by slamming his forehead into its face hard enough to crater it. He shoved free and skewered the thing through the throat, twisting until the light inside went dark.

  Stone dust filled the air, coating my tongue and stinging my eyes. My arms burned from the constant strain, but the power in my body kept me moving, strikes landing harder and faster than they ever had before. I was more powerful, but Samvek was right. There was something more to it than a mere physical upgrade, but I couldn’t put my finger on it yet.

  Each gargoyle fell in pieces, wings shattered, limbs broken, heads split open to spill that pale, dying glow. They were durable, relentless, and fast. But they weren’t enough.

  When the last of the wave finally collapsed, the floor was a ruin of cracked stone and broken bodies. Fragments still shifted and settled, the echoes of the fight rolling away into the distance. I stood there, actually feeling my breathing as I had needed to exert myself a little. That alone marked how powerful these foes were.

  I held Wayfinder loosely and felt the life within the weapon as it pulsed in my hands. Like me, my weapon lived for moments like this. But there wouldn’t be long to rest, or even time to talk about the strangeness I was feeling in my body. Already, there were more shapes moving at the edge of my senses, and I tightened my grip, ready for the next wave.

  This time, they grouped tighter, as if the dungeon had learned something from watching the first fight. Gargoyles dropped in coordinated pairs, wings folding just enough to control their descent before slamming into the ground and surging forward together. One would feint high with claw and wing, forcing a guard, while the other drove in low, talons scraping for legs and balance. It was smart, brutal fighting, the kind meant to overwhelm rather than outmatch.

  I stepped into it anyway.

  Wayfinder rang like a struck bell as it met stone, the impact shuddering up my arms. I parried one claw and drove the blade straight through the joint of a shoulder, twisting hard as I ripped free. The gargoyle reeled but didn’t fall, its partner already on me, wings battering at my sides with enough force to rattle my teeth. I ducked under the next swing, planted my foot, and took its head off in a rising cut that sent glowing fragments spraying through the air.

  Samvek was in constant motion to my left, spear a silver blur as he carved lanes through the oncoming stone. He used reach and footwork to keep them from boxing him in, striking joints, throats, and wing bases with ruthless efficiency. A Demona-type lunged at him from above, claws outstretched, and he met it midair, spear punching through its chest as lightning crawled along the shaft and into the creature. The gargoyle convulsed once and dropped, breaking apart as it hit the ground.

  Light beams lanced through the chaos, brilliant and precise. I felt one graze past my shoulder, heat flaring as it scorched armor and skin, and I rolled through the pain without slowing. I came up inside another gargoyle’s guard, smashed the shaft of Wayfinder into its face hard enough to make it unrecognizable by even its closest relatives, then finished the job with a short, brutal thrust through the skull. The glow inside winked out, leaving nothing but dead weight.

  They kept coming.

  Five more, then eight, then a mixed pack that included another Goliath, its bulk dwarfing the others as it charged straight through the press. Its fists slammed down like hammers, each blow carrying enough force to pulp bone if it landed cleanly. I met it unflinchingly, blade flashing as I hacked at its arms, each strike biting deep but not stopping it outright. It grabbed for me, stone fingers closing around my torso, and I drove Wayfinder up under its ribcage, twisting and wrenching as the light inside flared and guttered.

  Samvek took the opening I’d created, spear plunging into the Goliath’s throat from behind. He braced and hauled back with a roar, tearing the head free in a shower of glowing fragments. The body staggered forward a step and then collapsed into inert stone, finally still.

  The dust in the air grew even thicker, to the point that every breath tasted of grit and dust. My arms burned as I fought on, shoulders screaming from the constant impacts, and I welcomed it. I welcomed the strain, the resistance, the proof that this floor demanded effort. These monsters were a worthy test of my physical capabilities.

  The Goliaths could match my strength, for the most part, but they were decidedly slower. Meanwhile, the Demona were nearly as fast as me, even if they lacked my strength. They even tugged at my core a little. Even as dungeon monsters, they had an aura, and they were fierce. Whenever I found myself surrounded by too many of them, their combined aura would weigh down on me, making my movements feel sluggish. Well, sluggish for me, anyway.

  I’d experienced something similar with the Malfon legendaries I’d fought, but this was different. Maybe it was because of the rules of this universe, but I felt like I was being suppressed by their auras. The combined weight of it felt almost ascendant-level.

  The sluggishness made it difficult to adapt to any of the fighting styles I was used to. Then a thought struck me. No… it couldn’t be that simple. But maybe it was? My physical stats weren’t the only ones that had been cranked up with all the levels I’d gained. My mental stats had been affected as well, and they were telling me something that seemed hard to believe.

  Each tier increase had come with something greater than the tier before it. Samvek had often called legendary the peak of mortal existence. He reminded me that it touched upon the ascendant, but wasn’t ascendant itself. Recalling his words made me feel sure about my instinct.

  As soon as I created a momentary lull in battle, I paused for the duration of a single heartbeat. That was an eternity to one such as me, locked in the middle of combat, but I needed it to square my mind away.

  I was legendary now, and it wasn’t just a catchy name. I was more real, my build more complete than at any point in the past. I needed to accept it.

  Just like that, the pressure around me lessened, as though the air suddenly weighed less. It was thrilling. I felt more connected to the world, even this one, and in turn the pressure it was putting on me balanced out. In that moment, Trailblazer’s Aura activated, then evolved. There were no choices to make—it was a simple, linear evolution.

  Trailblazer’s Aura (Epic 99%) >> Legendary 1%

  This aura can be used passively or actively, in battle or even in social situations. It drains the health from foes, adding to your own, and provides an enhancement to all your damage the longer that foes remain within fifty feet of you. It boosts the effectiveness of your Charisma and causes all around you to feel the effects of your primordial aspect.

  You will be recognized as someone who stands apart from the masses. This may engender fear in some and excitement in others. More than anything, this aura will stabilize your presence and make you slightly more real.

  As your aura reaches legendary tier, even ascendant-tier beings will find it more difficult to ignore. Further, your place as one who stands apart will enable you to better withstand the aura of other beings, even those who are divine. This protection is not perfect, but will improve progressively as you find your place.

  Note: Your quest to borrow from other systems will likely help you progress this aura further than through its use.

  The moment of clarity passed, and I was thrown back into the battle. This time, it felt like my movement was more natural. I hadn’t gained any new stats, but I was starting to use the ones I had correctly. The battle was still fierce without being able to rely on any of my spells or abilities, but it made me feel alive.

  When the wave finally broke, the remaining gargoyles falling in shattered heaps around us, I stood there breathing hard, Wayfinder humming in my grip. My muscles felt heavy but responsive, power coiled tight instead of overflowing. Samvek straightened nearby, spear resting against the ground as he surveyed the field with a critical eye.

  I could feel it then, the rhythm settling in.

  “Well done. Now, we’re going to take turns helping you develop some of the unused parts of your build. I’m not going to fight the next wave. If I get hit or have to teleport away, you will have failed this test. To make it more fun, you have to fight with your eyes closed and your ears shut down.

  “What?”

  “I saw you reach a new balance with your tier. Search inside yourself. You can control every bodily function now. It’s part of being legendary. Shut off the portion of your brain which processes the sound waves. You can’t shut it all down because that would affect your balance. I can’t explain it any more than that because each species is different. But you can do this. You don’t have long before the next wave gets here.”

  No eyes and no ears. I scowled at Samvek, who wore a grin that looked all too predatory on his leonine face. He was enjoying this way too much.

  “Oh, and the skill set you’re going to be training is your Psi abilities. You can use any of them, but otherwise only use your physical stats for this battle.”

  I wanted to tell him that he asked for the impossible, but I didn’t want to turn this into any more of a Yoda moment than it already was.

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Psi

  Not being able to see or hear was disorienting, especially with the ease with which I shut the senses off. The connection I had with my own body had dramatically improved when I reached legendary, but I hadn’t noticed it until I was pushed to it. I suppose that made sense—for so much of our lives, we operated based upon our expectations.

  It made me wonder what I would be able to do with Blood is Life, given how much I could control my body now. The new ability had been a pillar for my legendary class after I created it with the synergy orb. I’d combined Evolutionary Absorber and Synthesis of the Primordial Hunter, among other parts of me, to get it, and I was anxious to see what it could do.

  The answer came the moment I thought about the ability. It was passive, so it worked without me having to activate it. In this case, with the loss of hearing and sight, it was already augmenting my other senses. Before, I could sense small vibrations in the air against my skin and detect movement even when I couldn’t see or hear it, but now my body was trying to adapt to enhance that ability.

  True to Samvek’s instructions, I forced it to stop. That was an ability, even if it was passive, and I needed to try to avoid using it if I wanted to learn what he was trying to teach me.

  That was hardly the only part of me that tried to fill in for the missing senses. Trailblazer’s Mind had always been too potent for my liking. It was raw primordial power, and even now, I knew it was more than I could fully handle. Still, it didn’t feel quite as overwhelming as when I’d been epic tier. I got the sense that my body and mind were now better able to handle the massive amounts of information it could pull in. But that would also be a violation of the instructions, so I focused on limiting it as well.

  Spirit Sight was a part of my race and thus not inherently an ability, although I often enhanced it with Spirit Singing. Still, I didn’t try to shut it down.

  What really surprised me was how quickly my Psi ability, Precognition, flared to life, doing so without any system notification. The system still seemed to have trouble quantifying Psi abilities, even if it had added them to my status sheet.

  This wasn’t the first time I’d leaned into Precognition. During the battle on Galen, it had played an important role. I couldn’t help but wonder how much easier that battle would have been if I’d realized just what it meant to be legendary. Now, my tactile and olfactory senses, fueled by my Precognition, told me the first wave of enemies was almost on top of me.

  It was mostly composed of the Bronx-type gargoyles. They stood on four legs, and their movement reminded me of dogs. I couldn’t help but think of how Louis Tully would have felt being chased by one of these. But there wasn’t time for speculation. I needed to move.

  The moment stretched, thin and taut, as the dungeon breathed in. I could feel Samvek a few steps behind me, solid and unmoving, his presence a fixed point I had to protect at all costs. Without sight or sound, the world became pressure, texture, and intent, every movement announcing itself through subtle shifts in air and stone. My heart hammered, not from fear, but from the sheer effort of trusting senses I’d only recently begun to understand.

  The first Bronx hit low and fast. I felt it before it arrived, a ripple of inevitability sliding across my awareness, and stepped aside a fraction of a second before claws tore through the space where my legs had been. Wayfinder came around in a tight arc, guided by certainty, and bit into a stone shoulder with a jarring impact. The gargoyle yelped—a vibration I felt through my boots and along the length of my weapon—then skidded away, trailing fractured fragments.

  My instinct had been to conjure a force construct first to block it, then to smash it, but I resisted. Instinct was a powerful driving force, but I presumed that Samvek was aiming for me to be in control of that instinct rather than the other way around.

  Two more came in from opposite angles, their combined intent pressing down on me like a physical weight. Precognition flared brighter, not as images or moments of potential but as conclusions already reached, and my body obeyed before thought could interfere. I ducked, rolled, and came up inside their charge, blade flashing in brutal, economical strikes. Stone split, joints failed, and one of them collapsed in a heap that twitched once before going still.

  Another leapt high, aiming to crash down on Samvek. The warning hit me like a punch to the gut, sharp and immediate, and I moved without hesitation. I drove forward, shoulder slamming into its flank midair, redirecting the mass just enough that it missed Samvek by inches. We hit the ground together, and I finished it with a short thrust that punched through its core. In my mind’s eye, I could see its internal light guttering out as its weight went dead.

  Precognition 4 >> 5

  The pressure didn’t ease, but I was adapting to it. I found that place of existence, where thought and instinct blended like it had on Galen. More were coming, faster this time, and my skin prickled as their combined auras pressed in. I adjusted instinctively, shifting my stance, letting my body find balance without conscious input. Every strike landed where it needed to, every dodge happened just early enough, and I began to realize that I wasn’t reacting anymore. I was arriving at outcomes before the monsters did.

  I would have loved to have more Psi abilities. For some reason, my mind latched on to the idea of augmenting Persuasion with Psi. It wouldn’t be very useful here, although it might come in handy against the Lawkeepers. That thought created a grumbling inside my brain, like my stomach used to make when it got hungry.

  A heavy impact glanced off my shoulder, numbing the arm, but I used the momentum to spin and cleave through another Bronx’s neck. Shards sprayed across my face, warm and gritty, and I welcomed the sensation because it meant I was still in control. Somewhere behind me, Samvek hadn’t moved an inch, and that knowledge anchored me more firmly than sight ever could have.

  They kept coming, and I was beginning to notice that since I was keeping Blood is Life inactive, my body wasn’t healing as quickly. It didn’t matter if I could predict where the attacks would be if I couldn’t move quickly enough to respond. Then it happened. Too many attacks at once. My mind processed the data faster than ever before, but it wasn’t enough. There was no way I could block all the blows aimed at Samvek and not take a serious wound myself.

  If necessity was the mother of invention, then this need was the birthing point for something new inside of me. There was the briefest tearing sensation inside my head. No notification popped up, but somehow, I formed a psionic construct. It blocked two of the blows, giving me the time I needed to respond to the rest.

  There was a draining sensation deep within my core. I wasn’t sure how to regenerate Psi, but I was sure that I was spending it faster than it was coming in with this new ability. I didn’t know what to call it, but I was going to make use of it.

  Combining the psionic constructs with Precognition and physical senses, I tore through the remaining enemies. It might have been because the new ability was so similar to my force constructs, but using them quickly became second nature. Like my force constructs, they were more than just shields. They could be blades, steps, walls—whatever I wanted them to be. The versatility of these psionic constructs blew Force Construct Mastery out of the water. This was akin to being a Green Lantern, and not the shoddy Ryan Reynolds version.