Symon grunted as he splashed the burning oil across his skin, the already burned-to-tatters shirt providing no protection. It wasn't pleasant, but compared to the fire attack of an emberwolf... he hardly felt it.

It was easy for him to gloss over its effects, but Pain Resistance had really been a silent powerhouse. He tended to suffer so many extreme injuries that the resistance struggled to keep up, but against such a puny little fire, it was just a slight stinging, on par with the sunburn he had when he first woke up in the desert and ran out of vitality.

His abilities worked in tandem, the vitality rushing out of his vessel to heal his burned flesh, the missing essence quickly replaced by that which was stolen from the roses. Generally, his healing consumed essence slower than he gained it, but that was only true when draining more powerful beings, like monsters or even people. For a plant, the roses had a lot of strong vitality inside them, but that qualifier was important. As it was, his vessel would be ever so slowly ticking down, although he could still sustain this rate for a dozen minutes before he ran out of his reserves.

He didn't have dozens of minutes, though. He might not even have one. He stuck the handle of the torch into the dirt, using his now free hand to reach into the flames, scoop up some of its oil coating, and rub it on his body. The other hand remained free, so that he could keep track of his abilities' levels roughly written on the pollen caked to his palm. The moment one of them evolved, he'd need to pick the right option and try to save the barely living person in the manor.

By now, half of his torso was alight. He wasn't worried about the flames spreading — whatever the alchemists had put on the end of the torch to make it so flammable, it was very sticky and didn't drip, even when heated.

Surprisingly, he felt the panic from his scramble to try and save a life through his self-torturing to subside. Focusing on the sensations of the flame, the vitality repairing the damage, and the threads draining the roses was oddly meditative.

It's all just one big circle...

He caught his eyes beginning to close but quickly shook himself out of it. He couldn't afford to miss the evolution and waste time.

Symon had stopped at the bottom of the manor's steps, on the cleared path that led to the sheds and main gate. He knew it would be a huge waste if he accidentally set the field of roses aflame, so he stuck to the cleared stone path and let his magic's range make up the difference. As soon as the last rose in his range began to wilt, he took a single step forward.

Once the new roses now in his range died, he did the same, stepping forward over and over again. It was similar to how he'd cleared a path through the grass sea, only he was targetting what were essentially the walls of an already-cleared path. Of course, the biggest difference was how much more vitality he gained, the essence filling up his vessel before it thundered back out into his burning flesh. All the while, he kept a close eye on the words on his palm.

[ Idealise (19) Seize (19) ]

"Come on, work!" he shouted, although he wasn't sure who he was directing the words to. He lost himself in the trance of slowly moving forward one step at a time, the sensation of his burning flesh more of a tickle in the back of his mind than any real pain. Anatomy seemed almost confused, his injuries healing themselves almost before the passive could point out the effect the fire was having on his body.

After having to move eight times, the text finally changed.

[ Idealise (19) Seize (20) {+1} ]

"Fuck yes!" he cried, throwing himself down onto the path. "Ledger, on the ground!" It wasn't easy to fit a lot of words onto just his palm, but the Ledger was happy to accommodate his wishes. He ignored the flames still licking at his chest and stomach and instead focused entirely on the ground in front of him. A drop of sweat beaded down onto his nose before dropping onto the flagstones as the words wrote themself out, the perspiration only partially caused by the heat from the fire.

[ Congratulations! You have reached the First Step. ]

"Next!" Symon cried, and the words changed again.

[ You have reached level 20 in Seize. As a reward for your efforts, choose any one tailored Evolution. Unpicked Evolutions will be available at next Evolution. You must make a selection before Seize can gain additional levels. ]

"Yes, show me!"

[ Seize Evolution: Thread Compression. Reduce the maximum range of Seize by 2% per level. Increase draining speed and power by 2% per level. This aspect may be toggled on or off at will. ]

[ Seize Evolution: Thread Extension. Increase the maximum range of Seize by 2% per level. Reduce draining speed and power by 2% per level. This aspect may be toggled on or off at will. ]

[ Seize Evolution: Thread Kinesis.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Seize gains the ability to physically interact with the world. Threads are now visible. ]

[ Seize Evolution: Phantom Thread. Vitality drain is now undetectable, even when empowered. Additionally, targets will be less likely to notice mild symptoms of vitality loss. ]

[ Seize Evolution: IFF. Render a target immune to Seize. This aspect has a one-week cooldown. Maximum concurrent targets: 1. This aspect may be toggled off at will. ]

[ Seize Evolution: Mind Over Matter. Vitality drain now additionally targets thoughts, beginning at surface level and delving deeper with prolonged exposure. ]

Symon blinked as all the text appeared. "Who the hell would want to drain people's memories?" he muttered to himself. He immediately ignored that one, trying to find the best solution for his current problem. Being able to pick things up or slap enemies with his thread at least sounded cool, but he couldn't think of any way it could help him right now. Maybe I can use it to pull the bolt out of their stomach? But how would I control it when it would just want to drain them? It would show up again if he got Seize to level 40, at least, and was a strong contender for the future due to its combat potential.

He let out a sigh of relief as he read over IFF's description again. This was exactly what he needed, almost suspiciously so. The Ledger told him the offerings were tailored, but he hadn't realised it would be to this extent. It wasn't his only option, though. Thread Compression could accomplish something similar, potentially reducing the range all the way down to zero.

He wasn't sure if that meant it wouldn't work at all, or if he needed direct physical contact. He was leaning towards the latter, though, as he remembered the very first centipede he'd fought shortly after waking up. His thread hadn't manifested at all, although he'd absorbed its vitality automatically once it had latched onto his arm. Also, he got the feeling that there wouldn't be enough of a difference between it and IFF if it just allowed him to disable the threads completely whenever he wanted. The Ledger wouldn't give him an option that was just better than another in every way. He wasn't sure why he was so confident about this, but he was.

Most obviously, though, was the fact that Seize was only level 20. It wouldn't even halve the range, meaning he still had his original problem. It was probably the best choice combat-wise, but he had a bigger priority.

His eyes flickered between IFF and Thread Compression as he chewed on his lip. He did it so hard that a little trickle of vitality even made its way up to his face. It just wasn't possible to put a number to how valuable IFF would be. Being able to touch someone was more valuable to him than a little boost to his draining power, both in his current situation and in general. He'd already been dragging his feet, staying in civilisation for longer than he knew was safe, all because he didn't want to be alone. It took a toll on him, always needing to be mindful of his range around the others, and he knew it made it hard for his friends to relax too.

The wording seemed to imply that the number of people he could make immune to his draining would eventually rise, too, hopefully meaning he'd be able to include all his friends. Why else would it list how many targets it could have at once like that? Either way, he was still going to take it even if it remained at a single person the whole time. The description didn't mention how to improve this if it were even possible, but he presumed it just needed more levels.

With a nod to himself, he made his selection.

[ Idealise (19) Seize (20) : {New} IFF ]

The lettering on his palm also updated, something he briefly noted before using that hand to bat out the flames that still lingered on his chest. The flames were stubborn, but he continued to slap at them as he quickly pushed himself to his feet and began running back to the manor. He hadn't gone far at all, so he reached it long before he'd managed to defeat the flames. Not wanting to cause a fire in the manor or in the roses, he took off the tattered remains of his shirt and used it to scrape off all the oil, dumping it in the middle of the pathway once he was done.

He was nervous, both because he'd just made a permanent decision that would shape his magic for the rest of his life, and because he was worried he'd spent too much time deliberating over the decisions as someone slowly died in the manor. He'd been both recklessly fast and foolishly slow. With renewed vigour, he continued his sprint, picking up the torch he'd planted in the dirt previously as he entered the foyer again.

He skidded through the doorway, turned towards the hallway and ran straight down it, once more kicking dust up onto the nice rug in the process.

His run was so fast that the torch was sputtering, having trouble keeping itself together and making it hard to see ahead of him. He knew he'd reached his destination once he felt the thread stirring.

No!

It paused in the air, completely frozen. It had even stopped its usual gentle swaying and undulation. He felt something intangible click into place. Then, like a chastised dog, it slowly, reluctantly returned inside.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he knelt down next to the figure, gently gripping their leg and pushing ten units of vitality into them. He was too focused on his patient for the relief of finally managing a small amount of control over his abilities to do more than flicker in his mind. Their flesh — the little there was, considering they were mostly skin and bones — was cool, only slightly warmer than the ambient environment. Part of him wanted to use up all the vitality immediately, but he knew that wouldn't be wise. There was something embedded in their back, for one, and they could have more serious injuries that he would be better off focusing on, although he had very limited control over directing his healing on others.

They had wedged themselves between the plinth and the wall for some odd reason, although he couldn't begrudge a dying person for behaving erratically. Instead of trying to move them, he grabbed onto the small pillar and began hauling on it. It wasn't embedded in the ground and wasn't particularly large, but it was still a heavy block of stone. To his surprise, it moved easily enough. He didn't lift it off the ground, but he could drag it away quite easily, his Ledger-enhanced Strength — mediocre as it may be — more than up to the task.

The second he moved the pillar far enough, the figure flopped out bonelessly onto the rug, a shock of snow-white hair — not factoring in all the dust — splaying out across the ground in the process once they were no longer pinned against the wall. He winced as they rolled, but he considered it less bad than physically dragging them out.

He knelt down next to their head, the pool of dried blood so large that they were both still in it. He moved some of the long hair out of the way to help him check for a pulse, exposing long, grey ears that tapered to a sharp point.

Whoever this person was, they were neither villager nor imperial. They weren't even human.

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