Having completed my main tasks, I finally reached my first Rift. I didn't prepare much, just bought a sword.
With my Slayer ring, I gained access to the Training Center's information site, listing open Rifts. There were tons, honestly—plenty for everyone.
My first criterion was proximity. I had no transport and didn't want to rent military gear. This narrowed my options to a few Rifts within one or two hours' walk.
A Rift resembling a massive anthill caught my eye, open for over a year. It could hold hundreds, but no one had reached the bottom to close it. Reports were unclear—either kill nearly all inhabitants, oversized ants, or shatter a crystal below. I'd figure that out later.
I sorted Rifts by size and distance. The smallest were cleared fastest, targeted by Center cadets. A couple had appeared recently, classified as minor, but unvisited. Or maybe visited but unregistered. They were still marked open. I wasn't planning to register either. Why bother? Go quietly, do the job. Fame? My ring's color will show it in time.
I chose a slightly farther one—a new portal from yesterday. Being minor, I figured I'd clear it in a couple of hours, assuming I didn't die. Haha…
I left my hotel and grabbed the first taxi.
"Where to, my lord?" the driver asked politely, eyeing my appearance.
"Here," I showed him the coordinates on a map.
He entered them on his tablet, highlighting a red zone containing my destination.
"With respect, that's a red zone. I can only take you here," he pointed to a spot meaning nothing to me.
"How far from there to my target?" I asked.
"About… five kilometers."
"Fine, let's go," I said, climbing into the back.
"As you wish, Lord Slayer," he nodded respectfully, and we headed toward the Rift.
Even taxis here were rugged off-roaders, modified by experts. The Epicenter zone was dangerous, roads abysmal. We soon hit a dirt track, bouncing toward a forest.
Half an hour later, we stopped at a barrier beside a concrete bunker. Two soldiers emerged as we approached.
"Here we are, Lord Slayer!" the driver turned to me.
I handed him a bill.
"Keep the change, thanks," I said, stepping out.
"Greetings!" a sergeant saluted. Soldiers liked Slayers, who bailed them out in dire situations.
"Hey, sergeant!" I offered my hand, which he shook, surprised. Most Slayers, especially noble jerks, treated soldiers like buzzing flies.
"You… alone?" he asked.
The taxi was gone, and I looked around theatrically.
"See anyone else?"
"Sorry, Lord Slayer!" he paled.
"Kidding," I smiled. Man, Slayers had these soldiers spooked. "What's the situation, sergeant?"
"No roaming creatures within ten kilometers," he checked his tablet.
"Perfect," I nodded. "Take care, troops!"
I set off briskly down a narrow path toward my destination. After a couple of kilometers, I checked my map and veered left, trekking off-road.
I felt great. The scent of freedom was intoxicating, reminding me of my past life, choosing my own path. Except my gear was better then… haha… just a bit. I touched my sword's hilt—junk a Hunter wouldn't even call a weapon! No matter, I'd upgrade. Not strangling monsters bare-handed.
The Rift site was deserted. Clearly new, with a week or two before monsters poured out, maybe a month. Older Rifts got fences, trenches, and mobile forts for Slayers, soldiers, and sometimes scientists.
Rifts varied in appearance. This one was a white, glowing patch hovering in the air. White meant the "weakest" Rift, so I shouldn't have much to fear.
Here we go! I drew my sword, infused it with power, and donned light armor.
Stepping in, my ring activated as a "key," a brief dizziness hit, and I lost vision, shifting from sunny day to pitch-black.
Something screeched nastily nearby, the sound closing in. I blinked rapidly, cursing myself. Veteran Hunter, my ass! I knew many Rifts were caves—Center lectures covered this. What was I thinking?
Luckily, the darkness wasn't total. The cave's walls grew bluish moss, faintly glowing. In that dim light, I spotted a small figure charging, squealing, with short, crooked legs and a crude stick aimed at me. This little guy wanted to poke me.
Reflexes kicked in. I sidestepped, letting it pass, and swung my sword. The headless body stumbled a few steps before collapsing. At least it stopped screaming.
Two things happened. My Gift absorbed the monster's soul, and without seeing it clearly, I knew it was a Brown Goblin—small, pesky, dangerous only in packs.
The second was a pleasant surge of energy from the kill. Far better. Killing wolves in Petersburg gave no energy, so I thought this world didn't work that way and was bummed. Turns out, it works in Rifts because… damn!
I recalled a recent lecture I was forced to attend but slept through in the back. Monster energy flowed into Slayers via the ring's crystal, strengthening us. Right! I didn't have a ring in the capital!
Another detail. I approached the goblin's severed head, crushed it under my boot with force. It split like a ripe watermelon. Crouching, I examined it. Luck was mine—a small, white clump of materialized energy gleamed amid brains and bone: a jelly, the main "loot" from Rifts.
Carefully, to avoid mess, I plucked it with two fingers. It vibrated, trying to merge with me. Nope, not yet!
I stashed it in a pouch of special insulating material, preventing absorption. Let it sit; I had plenty of strength.
Andrey explained this was common for newbies. You needed to master jellies to avoid consuming them automatically. A weak fighter grabbing a strong jelly could die from the energy overload. Veterans like Andrey could handle them bare-handed, even halting absorption.
Surveying the cave, nearly circular and about thirty meters wide, I saw the white "window" of the exit behind me. Too early to leave. Circling the perimeter, I found stairs descending. This wasn't a natural cave but crafted by intelligent beings.
I descended cautiously to an identical chamber with another staircase down, but with a difference—a smooth, tool-cut opening in the wall.
Stepping softly, old habits kicking in thanks to the mossy floor, I peered inside. A still silhouette loomed in the distance, no goblins. Before entering, I glanced up. Whoa! A pig-sized spider sat in a web in the corner, waiting for me. It probably ate all the goblins.
Well, then. Gunpowder and explosives didn't work here. Archers and knife-throwers existed but were rare. You couldn't infuse thrown weapons with power, and plain metal only killed weak monsters. Why bother when you could bring a Fire-Gifted or a lightning-wielding "Air" Slayer?
Some Slayers used enchanted, single-use ranged weapons, pre-charged with power, destroyed after use. Used against tough monsters, they cost a fortune.
I'd used similar in my past life—like "silver" throwing daggers for undead immune to normal weapons. Not actually silver, just called that. But the game's changed.
Time for an old trick: bait. My new Gift made it possible.
I crafted a goblin illusion, infusing it with a real soul.
"Run fast and scream loud!" I waved toward the spider's room. "Then you're free!"
The goblin nodded, screeched, and darted inside, circling wildly. Good boy! The spider dropped, timing its attack, crushing the frail body. I intervened before it could unclench its mandibles. A few sword strikes, and the fat, hairy corpse lay at my feet. Splitting its head, I "riched up" with another white jelly.
Approaching the silhouette, I found a human skeleton chained to the wall. This confirmed the caves were artificial—goblins or spiders couldn't manage this.
Above the skeleton, a plaque with unfamiliar hieroglyphs was nailed. I examined the chain—ordinary metal, nothing special or valuable. Let the poor soul stay.
Materializing the monster cost twice the energy of fighting both foes, but I was still fresh. The second jelly joined the first in storage, and I explored further.
Five more "floors" held nine goblins and another spider. Killing them netted five jellies—not every monster had one. My "internal storage" held seven souls, no misses there.
The lowest "floor" was empty. No "megabosses" like in tales spun by veteran Slayer playboys to lure naive girls. If a Rift had a megaboss, it was usually alone, having killed and eaten weaker creatures. This Rift was odd, hosting two distinct monster types in a small space.
How did they survive? What did they eat? Scientists puzzled over this with mixed success. The leading unproven theory was that Rifts temporarily linked two worlds, snatching a chunk of one.
It was also known that unclosed Rifts spewed creatures. Whether they were there initially or the Rift "matured," gaining power, was unclear.
I leaned toward the idea that these were places of power, feeding monsters. But it couldn't last forever, so they hunted humans.
Rifts were anomalies, like in my old world, though rarer and less harmful. Different worlds, different rules.
Now what? Lectures said clearing a Rift should trigger an energy surge from the "thread" feeding its inhabitants snapping. I felt nothing.
I missed something, being careless.
"Come out and report," I told Shnyrka.
His task was to scout and guide me if trouble arose, but not interfere unless needed. I wanted to clear it myself to grasp these places' nature.
I learned some things, not others. I understood why not all Slayers were filthy rich. They went in groups of five to ten, splitting one jelly per person—not much. Smaller groups risked facing hordes, spelling doom. Plus, Rift expeditions were costly. Weapons broke often, and injuries required pricey healers.
"N-n-n-found!" Shnyrka hissed, showing me an image of a spider hanging above the ceiling, just under the cave's rim.
Another challenge. You needed a sensor to guide the team, or you'd waste hours searching.
"N-n-n-n-found!!!" he hissed excitedly, showing another image.
A hole in one room's wall led to a small, dark chamber with a clutch of at least two hundred eggs. The hole was webbed over, so I overlooked it—not from carelessness, but disinterest.
I was testing something else: how long I could stay in a Rift relaxed, unprepared. Turns out, I could, but I wouldn't advise others.
I created a spider illusion, infusing it with a soul.
"Kill the one above, and you're free," I ordered. It scuttled up the wall.
The dead spider fell, shattering. No need to crush its head—no jelly. Its soul was a nice bonus.
But not for long. I repeated the process with a new command.
"Destroy the egg clutch, and you're free!" I lost interest in the spider and turned to Shnyrka. "You, my friend, scour this place for anything useful. You know what we need, like in the old world."
I felt the clutch's destruction instantly. A faint wave rippled through the cave, washing over me with a pleasant chill. Done… This Rift was fully cleared! It'd close in a week, just needed reporting.
My ring absorbed a burst of energy from the surge, and I stroked it fondly. I liked this world, its rules, and order. At this rate, I'd soon rival the mighty. Unlike others, I grew stronger from both the ring and monster souls, which my Gift processed. I was unique.
Sitting on mossy steps, Shnyrka kept returning, emerging from shadows to drop loot at my feet.
First was a gold coin, a small, worn scale, confirming my theory: this was another world, all man-made.
The clutch's souls came to me, tiny, nearly energy-less. If unused soon, my soul would drain them, letting them reincarnate.
Always like that. Only strong souls lingered in me; weak ones faded.
Shnyrka's second gift was shackles, freeing the chained prisoner. Last was a stone-sized ore chunk. Hmm… I'm no ore expert; I'd need a specialist. I took the shackles and ore, just in case.
Time to leave.
Exiting was simple—just head to the Rift.
So I did.
Stepping through, bright light stung my eyes.
"Well, look at this bold newbie. Not only stole our Rift but didn't even clear it fully…" was the first thing I heard, and I smirked inwardly.
Never a dull moment…