Ch 42
Available paths:
Adaptive Regeneration (Heal away your weaknesses)
Undying Horror (Mortal wounds mean nothing to you so long as your will to live remains)
Unyielding Survivor (Poison, cold, starvation, dehydration, none of these will stop you from finding a way to persist.)
Blood Healer (Heal others by taking their injury upon yourself.)
Undying Berserker (The angrier you are the faster you heal.)
Bloody trade (Significantly increase all damage done to an enemy who has wounded you.)
Willful Survivor (It matters not what those who see themselves as above think, you will survive, even if they wish for you not to.)
Lonely Survivor (Others will only cost you precious resources?)
True Tank (All damage to those under your protection will be delt to you instead.)
Surviving Hope (So long as you remain standing, allies will find hope.)
Fated Survivor (Fate has decried that you must live until your purpose is fulfilled)
Looking at the list before him, Matt frowned as he considered each option and what they meant. He had expected to see the same list as before, with a few additions, but that wasn’t the case at all. No, it seemed that his choice of regeneration had mixed with each option before him, and he didn’t know exactly what that meant or how it would affect things. Even so, he felt that all he could do was select one and try to figure it out later.
This led him to consider several options like Willful Survivor, Unyielding Survivor, or Adaptive Regeneration. Each of them made him feel as if they would significantly increase his odds of surviving what came next, far better than the others. However, he couldn’t pick any of them. The moment he saw Blood Healer as the only option that would allow him to heal others, he was sure he was going to take it. What else could he do when he knew that the others needed healing desperately?
After making his selection, Matt let out a cry of pain as he felt like his whole body was being remade. The sensation put the discomfort he had experienced when rising to rank G to shame. He watched as his muscles bulged and contracted, and it felt as though a fire had ignited within him. Still, as if it had all been an illusion, it ended after only five seconds, though to Matt, those five seconds felt like five minutes. Yet, end they did, and as they did, Matt received a notification with his updated stats.
Matthew Pierce.
Level 5
Strength: 42
Dexterity: 26
Durability: 44
Stamina: 54
Spirit: 29
Mind: 13
Species Human (F)
Bloodline: (Not evaluated at this level)
Blood Healer (Increase Durability by 30% Stamina by 30% Spirit by 30%)
Titles: Integrated, Front runner of species (5% boost to all stats), Lord of the Tomb of the Restless Defenders (Control the accessibility of fort associated with dungeon such that those within can enter and leave with or without challenging the dungeon. Can also relocate/repair the fort and dungeon associated with dungeon if needed resources are gathered.)
Skills: Auto translate, Minor regeneration, Injury transfer, Give of yourself.
Matt paused to ponder the details on his character sheet, contemplating the implications of it all. From the uneven growth of his stats to his acquisition of two new skills, he found himself with more questions than answers. He wished for more guidance as he called out to Tempormr once more, but still, no response came. The notice with his stats disappeared, and as he stood up, he noticed the return of the crystal ball from earlier. With curiosity piqued, he stepped forward and placed his hand upon it, triggering another message to appear.
Congratulations on clearing the Tomb of the Restless Defenders.
Detecting that no party members have been lost.
Awarding all party members one set of gear according to their assessed aptitude.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Awarding Matthew Pierce the skill Spatial Storage in the form of the space that he currently occupies. This space can only be entered by Matthew Pierce through soul projection to place and remove objects within. Warning: this space is tied to Matthew Pierce until death, upon which it will reconnect and complete the dungeon once more with his soul trapped within it, to be freed only after being defeated by a challenger.
As Matt surveyed the cylindrical room, approximately 50 feet across and 12 feet tall, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had gained both a significant boon and a curse. The notion of being able to carry an abundance of supplies seemed incredibly advantageous, yet the idea that his very soul was bound to this space troubled him deeply. He questioned the story of the mysterious hooded figure, trying to decipher its meaning. Despite his misgivings, he realized there was little he could do as a set of clothing and a backpack, nearly bursting at the seams, materialized before him.
In Matt’s mind, the clothing might have seemed primitive compared to what Earth considered normal, but he saw that very primitiveness as a compliment. He associated its design with durability and practicality, qualities modern apparel often sacrificed for the sake of convenience. Modern clothing, with its elastic bands and buttons, was far trickier to repair when damaged—unlike these older garments, where strong leather drawstrings could be replaced with ease if they ever wore out. Moreover, modern fashions focused more on aesthetics than on function, a shortcoming that this robust attire had never known.
Yet calling it mere “simple clothing” wouldn’t have been entirely accurate, for subtle hints of armoring were evident throughout. There were leather bracers inlaid with steel along their edges and a steel-reinforced patch in the shirt he was meant to wear, clearly designed to protect his heart from a direct, piercing strike. His boots, too, were no ordinary pair, featuring steel caps at their tips and reinforced heels. Every detail suggested that this gear was meticulously crafted to fend off fatal blows and offer effective protection—even in the absence of a shield.
Without wasting a moment, Matt noted as the passage from which he had emerged swung open once more. After swiftly donning the clothing, he quickly retraced his steps up the pathway. Along the way, he found adjusting to his new stats a challenging task. It was only when he recalled the encounter with the hooded figure—a level 5 opponent—that he began to wonder about the potential consequences had they clashed directly. With the realization that his own strength had leaped by 19 points from level 4 to level 5—thanks to the boost from achieving rank F—Matt pondered whether his cautious approach had been his only viable route to victory. He also mused about the role his newfound regeneration played, considering how different the outcome might have been without it.
The hooded figure had clearly sought an escape, and Matt couldn’t help but wonder if it had calculated that letting him dispatch it—while perhaps aiming for his downfall—would at least fulfill its purpose. Yet, uncertainty lingered since Matt hadn’t truly mastered the space until he touched the crystal ball. Added to that, he had already been granted his title before this moment, leaving him troubled by the prospect that, under different circumstances, he might have found himself trapped for all eternity.
This train of thought led him right back to the realization that if he were to die, it would be his fate, regardless of anything else, as he arrived back where the others were waiting for him. There, he found them looking hopeful, with some dressed in their new gear and others wrapped in bandages covering their burned flesh, as the path behind him closed. However, before Matt could say or do anything, Greg spoke up.
“Did you get anything in your gear that explains what any of the bottles we have are?”
“Bottles? I haven’t even looked in my pack yet,” Matt replied, a bit flustered.
“Well then, hand it over. I really would have thought you’d at least do that to save time if we could heal Zara,” Greg insisted, with a hint of urgency in his voice.
“I’ve got that covered,” Matt assured them, though he added, “but judging by my still missing hair, I doubt my method will save any of us from looking like monks for a while.”
“Wait, you have a way to heal?” Emily questioned, her eyes widening with a mix of worry and hope. “I mean, that is wonderful.”
“Yes, but it isn’t going to be pleasant for me,” Matt replied, as he moved to Zara’s side. He gently placed her sword back in her hand, adding, “Thanks for lending this to me; it saved my life down there. I don’t think I would have succeeded without it.”
Zara looked weakly at Matt as he lay down next to her, still holding her hand and gripping his sword. Moments later, he willed himself to absorb her injuries, and suddenly, excruciating pain burst through him. He endured the torment even as it began to ebb away, his body tirelessly repairing itself. At that very instant, he heard Zara gasp for breath. Soon after, he saw her fully present—bent over him in a mix of urgency and annoyance as she scolded him.
“You’re a damn idiot. Why would you risk killing yourself for me when your life is far more valuable?”
Matt forced a smile despite his silence, his voice failing him even as his breathing steadied with Greg stepping forward to defend him.
“How about you put on your new clothes and just thank him for doing this? I’m sure his regeneration will handle everything,” Greg said with a note of amusement.
“Do you have any idea how much pain I was in? I was slowly suffocating, fighting just long enough to watch him return victorious—only to see that he couldn’t save me.”
“Matt is the main character. That means he always finds a way to save those he cares about. I’d wager he’s planning to take all of our wounds upon himself; you, though, were just in the worst shape,” replied Greg, sounding sure of himself.
“But did he really need to absorb all of my injuries at once?” Zara questioned, almost pleadingly.
“We don’t know what special skill he acquired,” stated Emily, relief softening her tone. “Although, it appears he shouldn’t be using it in the midst of combat.”
“That’s a good point,” agreed Greg. “I’d guess it was his only option that included healing benefits. Either way, I wonder how long it’ll take for him to completely heal or what extra advantages he gained that might make him overpowered.”
“You really don’t need to worry about me,” croaked Matt, coughing up blood as he spoke. “I’ve noticed that my regeneration speeds up significantly after reaching level 5 and rank F.”
“You really shouldn’t speak if further injury is a risk,” Emily cautioned, her glance once more reminiscent of the stern look his mother used to give him. “Also, you shouldn’t try to heal all of us—”
“I am healing everyone before we leave this dungeon,” Matt retorted, his eyes hardening as he glared back at Emily. “I can’t fix scars—even if I could, I’d worry about testing that later. So just arrange everyone by the severity of their injuries and, when I’m ready, I’ll take on the rest.”
“Why are you doing this?” asked Rose in a gentle tone. “I know you care, but everyone will survive and recover eventually, even if they’re left with a few scars.”
“Because I can.”
Rose blinked in confusion when Emily surprisingly closed her mouth, refraining from arguing further. Greg chuckled softly, muttering something under his breath that Matt couldn't quite catch. The only person who reacted in a noticeable way was Zara, who leaned in and pressed her lips gently to his, leaving Matt momentarily stunned.
