Infinite Awakening: 10,000x EXP Converter!

The fight became a meat grinder.

Eight upgraded operatives fought in close quarters. Their rifles were gone, so they fought bare-handed with the mean skill of people who made a living from killing. Metal skin armor made their arms as hard as steel. Essence-boosted muscles let them match Alvian’s STR 28 in pure strength. They were Level 32 to 33 veterans. Each one was as strong as a whole squad of normal soldiers.

Alvian took the hits. He had no choice. To avoid damage, he would need to use Severing Sword Aura. That would kill the operatives too fast. Dead operatives meant no more proficiency EXP. No more pool growth. The whole plan would fail if he ended the fight too soon.

A heavy fist caught his shoulder from the left. The impact sent him spinning. His Clearwater Coating burned through the operative’s knuckles, acid finding gaps in the metal layer, but the force still hit his body. Pain shot through his arm.

[HP: 79 → 72]

Another operative drove a knee into his thigh. His leg gave out. The Coating on his pants burned through the operative’s guard, but the heavy blow made him stumble. A third operative acted immediately, slamming a headbutt into Alvian’s forehead. Blood ran down from a cut above his eyebrow, dripping into his left eye and making his vision blurry.

[HP: 72 → 63]

[Proficiency +1. Pool: 15]

[Proficiency +1. Pool: 22]

Every hit he took counted as a Skill use. Every time an operative touched his Coating, the System counted a Clearwater Palm or Coating hit. The pool grew. Fifteen. Twenty-two. Thirty. Each number meant a moment of pain, a new bruise, a bone creaking under force it was never made to take.

’Keep going,’ Alvian thought, blocking a palm strike with his coated arm. The acid ate through the operative’s glove. ’Thirty-one. Thirty-two. Just need more.’

Then Griff Maddox stepped in.

The mercenary leader had been watching, waiting for the right moment. When Alvian stumbled between two operatives, Griff moved. He moved surprisingly fast for his big size, closing the gap in two steps. His forearm came up to block Alvian’s desperate sword swing.

The Kinetic Reaver Talent triggered.

Alvian’s swing had motion energy. All swings did. Griff’s Talent grabbed that force, squeezed it, doubled it, and blasted it back as a point-blank shockwave.

BOOM!

The world became a blur of movement and pain. Alvian flew backward, his feet leaving the ground. He hit the tunnel wall fifteen meters away with a loud crack that echoed through the room. Dust rained down. His back burned with pain.

[Graviton-enhanced kinetic impact! HP -18!]

[HP: 48 → 30]

[The System suggests maybe not punching the man who eats punches for a living.]

He slid down the wall, leaving a streak of blood on the concrete. His head spun. His Clearwater Coating had damaged Griff’s arm during the hit, eating through his skin metal and leaving raw burns. But Griff barely cared. The mercenary’s strong body took the acid pain without stopping.

Griff cracked his knuckles. "You have a neat trick, kid. Acid that eats metal." He took a step forward, cracking the floor under his boot. "But kinetic force does not have mass to dissolve. And I have plenty of force."

He slammed his boot into the ground.

A wave of energy blasted outward, cracking the floor in big rings. Alvian leaped into the air. His AGI 27 was barely enough to clear the wave. But the sudden blast caught his feet when he landed, sending him stumbling. Before he could regain his balance, Pell Ossuary attacked from the side.

Bone Lance appeared. A sharp spear of hard white bone stretched from her palm. Alvian barely got his sword up to block. The heavy hit jarred his arm. The bone weapon was harder than steel, and Pell kept attacking with quick, deadly stabs that pushed him backward.

[Proficiency +1. Pool: 38]

Every block and every hit against Pell’s Bone Lance generated proficiency EXP. The pool kept going up. But Alvian was losing ground. The attack team was behind him again. Pell pushed from the front. Griff circled around to cut off his escape.

They were herding him toward the east tunnels. The containment team waited there with magic cuffs and something worse: a portable Rift-lure. If turned on, it would fill the tunnels with monster energy, drawing every creature within a kilometer right to them.

’Cannot let them turn that on,’ Alvian thought. ’Need to break their setup.’

He made a choice. It was going to hurt.

Alvian stopped moving back. He set his feet and swung his sword upward. Not at the operatives, but at the ceiling above.

"Severing Sword Aura!"

Three silver energy blades launched from his sword. Each one carried sharp air and acid power. They hit the tunnel ceiling above the east and west exits. The concrete and metal rods dissolved instantly, cut through like soft butter. Three huge sections of the roof caved in.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Tons of concrete smashed down, completely blocking two of the four tunnel exits. The containment team scattered in panic. Three operatives were caught under the falling rocks, buried in the rubble. The rest ran deeper into the tunnels, their team setup broken.

[Severing Sword Aura activated! Essence -15!]

[Essence: 22 → 7]

[Strategic note: Collapsing tunnels on your enemies. The System approves of creative problem solving.]

The room was now a closed arena. Only two exits remained, both behind Alvian. The Bloodhounds could not surround him anymore. They could not trap him, and they could not use the Rift-lure without burying themselves.

Griff’s calm face turned to wild anger. "You just sealed your own coffin, kid. No way out now."

"Works both ways," Alvian said, wiping blood out of his eye. "Come and get me."

Griff showed his teeth. "Kill him! Full force! No more games!"

The operatives stopped holding back. Magitech rifles fired at close range. Upgraded fists swung to kill. Pell’s Bone Lance reached its full length, aiming straight for Alvian’s back. Griff charged his Kinetic Reaver for a maximum strike, the air around him shaking with power.

Alvian ducked under Pell’s Bone Lance. The sharp bone missed his back by inches, close enough for him to feel the cold air coming off it. He grabbed a dropped rifle from the ground and smashed his palm into it.

"Clearwater Palm."

The rifle turned into gray slime in his hands.

[Proficiency +1. Pool: 68]

He rolled to the left. Two blast rounds hit the floor where he had just been, blowing holes in the concrete. His AGI 27 was barely enough. He was slowing down. His body was breaking. But the pool kept growing.

He slapped both hands onto the floor. "Clearwater Coating." Acid spread across the floor, making a slick puddle that forced the advancing enemies to slow down. Their boots started to melt and dissolve.

[Proficiency +1. Pool: 69]

He hit the tunnel wall with Clearwater Palm. The concrete weakened, and a chunk broke loose, falling onto an operative’s shoulder. The man dropped to the ground, screaming.

[Proficiency +1. Pool: 70]

Seventy. The pool counter read seventy base proficiency EXP. Seventy Skill uses earned across the brutal fight. It was less than the hundred he had used when farming in the empty station, but these were seventy real combat hits. Each hit created a real energy reaction that simple practice swings could never match.

His HP was down to twenty-two. One strong hit from Griff or Pell could kill him. One more shockwave would finish him off.

His Essence was down to seven. Not enough for another Severing Sword Aura. Not enough for anything except Clearwater Palm and Coating, which used Talent energy instead of Essence pools.

[Status Check]

[HP: 22/136 (Critical)]

[Essence: 7/22]

[Gambler’s Delay Pool (Clearwater Palm): 70 base proficiency EXP]

[KP: 8]

[EXP Bank: ~45,000]

’Now or never,’ Alvian thought. ’Seventy combat uses. Less than the hundred I used before. But real fights might give more value than practice swings. The System might boost it, or it might not. Either way, I am out of time.’

Griff charged. His fist pulled back, glowing with gathered kinetic force. That shockwave would kill Alvian at his low health. There was no way to dodge it in this small space.

Pell circled to his right. Her Bone Lance was ready to pierce him if he tried to dodge.

The rest of the attack team closed in from behind. Six veterans. Twenty-three fists.

Alvian’s body begged him to run. Every survival sense learned in the Undercity screamed that this was death, that he had pushed too far, that seventy was not enough, and that he should have stayed safe.

But safe did not save Martha. Safe did not protect Leo. Safe did not stop Dukes, or defeat Fate Enforcers, or heal sick lungs.

Seventy base proficiency EXP. Paid for in blood, acid, and pain.

"Spin."

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