Chapter 7: Activating the SSS Skill
Sleep offered no escape.
Instead of oblivion, William's mind was plunged into a vortex of images and sensations. A blood-soaked battlefield. The stench of death and decay. Towering figures, more beast than man, clashed in brutal melee. Their roars echoed across the ravaged landscape.
Claws ripped through flesh, fangs tore at throats. Raw, untamed magic crackled in the air, warping the very fabric of reality. A hulking brute with the head of a wolf tore through a line of defenders, its every attack a symphony of violence.
William watched in horror, unable to move, unable to scream. He was trapped in a nightmare he couldn't escape.
Then, the scene shifted. The battlefield dissolved, replaced by a towering city, its spires piercing the heavens. Shimmering crystals and obsidian formed its impossible structures. Ethereal beings, their forms fluid and ever-changing, flitted through the streets.
Awe and dread warred within him. Aethel held secrets beyond his comprehension. He was caught in its web.
He woke with a gasp, his heart pounding. The dream clung to him, vivid and disturbing.
"William? Are you alright?" Elara's concerned voice broke through the lingering darkness of the dream. He hadn't realized he was crying out in his sleep.
He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the window. Elara stood beside his bed, a worried frown creasing her brow. "You were tossing and turning," she said softly. "And you were sweating. Bad dreams?"
William nodded, pushing himself up to a sitting position. "Just a strange dream," he murmured, trying to downplay the lingering fear that gripped him.
"Well, it's a new day," Elara said with a reassuring smile. "Come, breakfast is ready."
The smell of freshly baked bread and sizzling bacon pulled William from the unsettling remnants of his dream. He joined Gorn and Elara at the table, forcing a smile as Elara placed a steaming plate of breakfast in front of him.
"I spoke with the others this morning," Gorn announced, a grim edge to his voice. "There have been more sightings. Strange tracks, unsettling noises... something's definitely not right."
William's heart pounded. "Are you going to investigate?"
"We have to," Gorn said, his jaw set with determination. "We're forming a search party to scout the surrounding forest."
"Can I come?" William blurted out, surprising even himself.
Gorn looked at him, his expression softening slightly. "I appreciate the offer, lad, but this is dangerous work. You're still recovering."
"But I want to help," William insisted. "I might be able to..." He trailed off, realizing he couldn't reveal the true extent of his abilities.
Gorn shook his head. "You've done enough already, William. You saved Martha's life. That's more than most would have done."
William fell silent, disappointment gnawing at him. He watched as Gorn and a group of seasoned hunters gathered their weapons and ventured into the depths of the forest, leaving him behind with a growing sense of helplessness.
He spent the rest of the morning lost in thought, wandering through the village with a heavy heart. He exchanged a few words with some of the villagers, their faces etched with worry.
"Heading out, William?" Old Man Hemlock asked, leaning heavily on his gnarled staff. His voice was a low croak, a stark contrast to Gorn's booming tones.
"Just for a walk," William replied, forcing a smile.
"Be careful, young man," Hemlock warned, his eyes narrowed. "The forest is not safe these days. I saw those strange tracks near the west field, something I've never seen before. Unnatural, they were."
"I heard about that, Hemlock," William said, keeping his voice calm. "Don't worry, I'll be careful. I'm just going to the hill near the village."
Hemlock seemed reassured by William's words and the mention of the familiar hill. He gave a slow nod, his gaze lingering on William for a moment longer than necessary.
William made his way to the hill overlooking Willow Creek, a place where he often sought solace. He sat on a moss-covered rock, his gaze drifting towards the distant treeline, where Gorn and the others had disappeared.
His thoughts drifted back to Earth, to his family, to his old life... He wondered if they missed him, if they worried about his whereabouts. A pang of guilt pierced his heart. He had been so eager to escape his ordinary life, to find adventure in a fantasy world. But now, faced with real danger and uncertainty, he longed for the comfort and familiarity of home.
He closed his eyes, the image of his mother's kind face and his father's gentle smile flashing through his mind. He missed them dearly, missed the warmth of their love, missed the feeling of belonging.
A tear escaped his eye, tracing a path down his cheek. He was alone, adrift in a strange world, with a power he barely understood and a destiny he didn't want.
He clenched his fists, a surge of anger rising within him. He had been cast aside, deemed unworthy, but he wouldn't let that define him. He would prove them wrong. He would master his power, uncover the secrets of Aethel, and find his own place in this world.
He focused on the translucent blue screen that hovered in his vision. Chrono Shift... what secrets did it hold? Could he really travel to the past? Could he witness the events of his dream, the brutal battlefield, the ethereal city?
William concentrated on the skill, picturing the swirling vortex of his dream, the feeling of being pulled through time and space. A surge of energy pulsed through him, and the air in front of him shimmered and distorted. A swirling portal, a gateway to the unknown, opened before his eyes.
William stared in awe, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. He had done it. He had activated his SSS-Rank skill.
The portal probably possessed dangers that William might not be able to survive against, but he wanted to get stronger, and deep down, there was something in his mind.
'Could this portal lead me back home?' he thought.
Maybe it was his eagerness for power, or the thoughts about his family made him want to go through the portal, but he did.