Andrew White
Stories
12
Chapters
6,069
Words
5.1 M
Comments
0
Reading
17 d, 14 h
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With a cold floor underneath me, I was lying down on the ground. I had just lost consciousness. That Dwelling Procedure sure wasn't handy if I had to lose consciousness for a few minutes each time. Maybe I fell unconscious simply because I wasn't high-skilled enough, however. My face was resting on the floor. My arms were extended in front of my face, half-crossed. I opened my eyes wearily. I was as sluggish and heavy as could be. For the second time now, light landed on my pupils as they painfully…
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I was dead. Or dead-to-be, for what it's worth. I just had to accept it anyway. That's the way. The only way. Thinking back on it, I really was lost, all things considered. And now, it was all over… —Suddenly though, Ring! ❮ The current Receptacle's HPs are under 1%. As such, the current Receptacle is deemed defective. ❯ That same voice rang out. Huh? Did I hear that correctly? My ears had picked the words up. They clearly entered them. Or maybe not, since the voice rather came forth from…
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"..." The swordsman didn't reply instantly. The girl's gaze dropped down. Yup, I thought, why'd they save me? They're just my bullies. What then came off his mouth had me immensely surprised. "...Save him? I'll try that." My eyes rounded in utter surprise as my jaw dropped open. "Hah?" I was astonished. "Go now." And she went away. Did I actually misjudge them ever since the beginning? Uh? I feel so stupid now. They were only trying to save me? God, I should have understood that. How clueless do I…
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"My daughter. Don't let yourself be fooled." Throwing down scorning eyes at me, he harrumphed. "He's your boy no longer. Can't you see? You were trained by me, your father, don't disappoint. His mana print underwent a clear change." "I-I know! But how can he speak then, Father?!" "That I—" the man sighed. "I'm also taken aback by that fact. Though this doesn't change that. He's no longer—" "—Father! Please!" "...Good grief." Silence ruled over the empty atmosphere of this place. And now, I…
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Fellow humans. They'd help me for sure. No doubt about it. Because like I said, to top all that off, guess who else was human here? Easy guess, it was me. I said it. …Except I had no idea that I wasn't part of the human race. I was just 'dwelling in', and controlling one of their kin. I didn't know that. All I saw was what was in front of my eyes: since there were two humans who could help me, I just worked my way out of this predicament. I had found fellow humans, after all. And as such, I felt…
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❮ The Passive Skill has been acquired. ❯ …Ring! ❮ The Player has reached level 35. ❯ …After I had obtained the last piece to the puzzle, for some unknown reason, I sank into oblivion. My skills got me here. They got me in this situation. It was thanks to some passive skill, Dwelling, most probably, that I in the first place was to assault that level-45 individual after I unnervingly spawned there. And as I had some other skills related to some sort of Copying Art, that allowed me to copy…
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"Oughta be it! Right, sir!" "I dunno!" the young man curtly said, shrugging his shoulders. "But on to the story…" he continued. The children weren't so put off by the storytelling anymore… that was a problem! The young man's theatrics weren't the best. As he couldn't lose to the two kids, he took it upon himself to be even more dramatic and deep, let's say, in the telling of the Ancient Tale. The monster went on: 'Greed has led us to our predicament, humans! Like the greediness that has led us to…
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"These people—our people—they lived in a forest. The Fantastic Forest, you know it. And 'Fantastic Forest' wasn't just any name for it, no. Know it—the name was well-deserved, very well-deserved. Ancient, full of riches, wondrous, prosperous. Why, didn't that suffice for it to be called in this dignified manner? For it to be called Fantastic, with a big capital 'f'? Of course it did, but to make it even more fantastical… it was the forest where everything began!" This young man and the two kids…
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I was life in its purest form. Nobody was more alive than I. If anyone didn't think so, let them prove it. It's simple—all you have to do is kill me. So, you could call me "life." Or rather, living. And to further introduce myself: Life was great. Life was worth living. Life had to be treasured and protected. Your own life had to be, at the very least. That's how it worked. The point of the matter was that, from my perspective, life was precious. Yet, people threatened it. People threatened life.…
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