A Soup of Stars... and a Legendary Headache
Arian stood in the silent hall, the faint smoke rising from the Pit of Death still tickling his nose with the stench of burnt flesh.
He closed the system window, but the sensation flooding his body was no longer just numbers on a screen.
It had become a tangible truth — a heavy, solid truth.
He felt it in every muscle.
The 31 points of Strength were no longer just a number; they were a weight in his grip, a sense that he could crush a boulder with his hands if he tried hard enough.
The 22 points of Agility were not theoretical speed but a lightness in his feet — a sense that his body was ready to leap and dodge like a shadow born in darkness.
But the most important was his Defense, which had reached 30 points.
For the first time since waking up in this hell, he did not feel made of glass.
He felt a hidden hardness beneath his skin, like an invisible shield whispering to him: "You can take a hit now... and maybe you won't die immediately."
"Maybe…" Arian muttered sarcastically, but the smile forming on his face carried a trace of true confidence.
He looked at the fat rat — the "guardian" of his temporary kingdom — which was still staring at him with its tiny bead-like black eyes.
Arian slowly raised his hand.
He did nothing else, but the aura of newfound power radiating from him was enough.
The rat stepped back, let out a faint squeak of fear, then vanished quickly into the piled-up bones.
"Good," Arian whispered.
"Looks like intimidation isn't just a title."
There was nothing left to do here.
The hunt was over, and he had claimed his reward.
It was time for real work.
He turned and began the journey back to the Dwarven Workshop, leaving behind his burning graveyard that had witnessed his rebirth.
His steps were different this time.
Faster, more confident.
The [Enhanced Sprint] skill, amplified by his new Agility stats, allowed him to move through the dark tunnels at a speed he could never have dreamed of an hour ago.
He dodged falling rocks with the grace of a skilled dancer, leapt over small gaps effortlessly, and his body responded to his thoughts before they even fully formed.
He felt like he was playing a newly upgraded character, enjoying the discovery of its new capabilities.
"This is the feeling…" he thought as he ran, the cold wind slapping his face.
"This is the feeling I searched for in games. The feeling of growth… of control."
But then he reached a real obstacle — a true test of his new strength.
In front of one of the main corridors, an ancient stone bridge had completely collapsed, leaving behind a deep, dark chasm more than five meters wide.
On his first trip, he would have turned back and searched for another way, wasting hours while cursing his rotten luck.
But now...
Arian stood at the edge of the gap.
He looked across to the other side.
Five meters of sheer darkness.
In the past, this would have been a death sentence.
Now, it was… a challenge.
"Agility 22… Strength 31…" he thought, calculating the odds like a gamer deciding whether to risk a dangerous jump.
"Theoretically… it's possible.
If I push with all the strength in my legs and use my arms for balance… it should be possible."
He stepped back a few paces, drew a deep breath, and held it in his chest.
He didn't think of failure.
He didn't think of falling.
All he thought of was the other side.
And he launched himself.
It wasn't just a jump.
It was an explosion of raw power.
He pushed off the ground with strength he hadn't known he possessed, feeling his muscles contract and erupt, launching him through the air like a human projectile.
For one brief moment, he felt like he was flying.
He soared over the abyss, the cold wind slapping his face, the world beneath him a void of black.
He landed hard on the other side.
He stumbled a little, his feet sliding on the dusty stone edge.
For a heartbeat, his heart almost stopped as he felt gravel crumble under his boots.
But he didn't give in to panic.
He used his new strength, dug his fingers into the stone like claws, held on, then pulled his body to safety.
He stood there, gasping, his heart pounding wildly — not from fear but from adrenaline.
He looked back at the gap he had just crossed.
A genuine, clear smile — a pure smile of victory — spread across his face for the first time since arriving in this world.
"This is true power," he whispered to himself, his voice echoing down the silent corridor.
"Not fake auras. Not stupid luck. This is my strength."
He felt a surge of confidence wash over him — confidence that didn't come from others' misunderstanding, but from truly understanding his own limits.
---
A Soup of Stars
With his spirits high, Arian continued on and finally reached the grand Dwarven Workshop.
It was just as he had left it — silent and dark, except for the faint blue flame still pulsing weakly in the heart of the main furnace, like the dying heart of a mechanical beast.
He walked straight to the furnace, expecting to find his precious chunk of Star Mithril cooled down, waiting exactly where he'd left it.
But it wasn't there.
His heart froze for a moment.
The confidence vanished, replaced by cold panic.
"No… Impossible. Was it stolen? Was there another ghoul hiding here? Did Groluk somehow come back?"
He ran to the furnace, his eyes frantically scanning the shadows.
Nothing.
The place was as empty and dead as before.
He approached the furnace cautiously, fear making him doubt everything.
Was it just a dream?
Had he imagined finding the metal?
Then, he smelled something strange.
It wasn't the smell of metal or coal.
It was… aromatic.
A scent like herbs and spices mixed with a faint metallic note.
He bent down and peered inside through a small opening at the base of the furnace where he fed the fuel.
What he saw made him stare in utter shock, his mouth falling open in speechless confusion.
At the bottom of the furnace, where the faint blue flame still flickered, his chunk of Star Mithril had melted.
But it hadn't melted into a pool of molten metal as he'd expected.
Instead, it floated in a clear, shimmering sky-blue liquid, slowly bubbling with tiny rising bubbles.
The smaller pieces of Mithril had completely dissolved, while the larger ones were slowly turning to liquid, like sugar cubes melting in a cup of hot tea.
The sight looked like a soup of liquid stars.
"What… what the hell is this?" Arian muttered.
"This is impossible! The furnace barely works! Its heat isn't enough to warm my hands — how can it melt Mithril, one of the hardest metals known?"
He tried to find a logical explanation.
Was there a property of the metal he hadn't read about?
Did the furnace have some hidden power?
While his mind spun in useless circles, a system window popped up in front of him — not to give him answers, but to turn the mess into an absurd comedy.
Ding~
> [Warning: You have accidentally merged an artifact (Star Mithril) with an incompatible energy source (Dormant Mountain Core) inside an ancient containment device (Dwarven Furnace).]
[Unexpected reaction result: Creating 'Primal Star Essence Soup'.]
Description: A rare legendary liquid formed by the slow fusion of Star Mithril using pure spiritual energy. It's rumored to grant unique properties to any material it touches — or it might just be the most expensive soup in the history of the universe.
Time remaining until cooking is complete: 47 hours and 52 minutes.
System Note: Congratulations, Chef. You've turned a legendary treasure into a possible lunch. We strongly advise not to eat it directly.
Arian stared at the window, then at the shimmering blue liquid, then back at the window.
He didn't scream.
He didn't rage.
He didn't do anything.
He simply sat down on the ground in front of the furnace, rested his head on his knees, and felt a legendary headache begin to form behind his eyes.
"Soup…" he whispered into the darkness.
"I've turned my future strength… into soup."
He had survived death, leveled up, crossed the abyss — only to discover that his greatest enemy in this world wasn't the Ghoul Emperor, but his own cursed luck, tangled with absurd genius and a system that seemed to enjoy his suffering.