[You have been slain.]
The message blinked across the void like a cruel joke.
Vikram grit his teeth.
Again.
He hadn't timed the dodge right. The mage's curse-laced spell was practically a homing missile, and last time, he'd twisted his ankle so hard it snapped. But this time, he was close. So damn close.
He stood still, breathing in through his nose. Calm. Focused. His feet moved in slow, deliberate steps. The stone beneath him didn't groan, but his muscles did. Tensed like a coiled snake.
The moment he entered the range, the zombies stirred.
Their heads snapped toward him in unison, snarling with rotten mouths. The mage burst from behind the barrels like a demon clown from a jack-in-the-box. Vikram didn't panic. He backed away, just far enough to leave their aggro range.
As soon as the zombies lost interest, Vikram lunged.
A sprint. A blur. The double-headed axe slammed into a zombie's skull, caving it in with a wet crunch. Before the second could react, he was gone, retreating with predator precision.
But something was off.
The second zombie remained frozen, unmoving even when Vikram hovered just within its activation radius. It only responded when the mage cast a spell.
That wasn't normal.
'What kind of cursed place is this?'
Either this system had next-level AI... or these monsters had actual sentience.
Vikram didn't like either possibility.
He stepped back into range. The mage responded instantly. Dark fog oozed from his bony wand, curling like smoke around the gnarled skulls embedded in its shaft. Human? Beast? Vikram didn't want to know.
Didn't matter.
The wand tilted up.
Vikram crouched low, ready to spring. The wand came down, and he launched himself sideways.
The vines still caught him.
His face slammed into the dirt with a dull thud, and pain prickled where the thorns grazed his thigh. A shallow cut, nothing serious. He pushed himself up, blood smeared across his cheek, and laughed, sharp and defiant.
He was still alive. He could still fight.
The approaching zombie never stood a chance. Vikram cleaved it in half and, without pause, hurled his axe straight into the mage's chest.
The caster let out a shriek before collapsing into dust.
'Die, you voodoo blow-up doll!'
[+120 Soul Fragments]
Then everything went black.
============================
The sun rose lazily, spilling its golden light across the room.
Vikram stirred under the sheets, groggy and disoriented. His eyes snapped open as he jolted up and frantically checked his limbs, his chest, his face.
Still human.
Still... himself.
Relief swept over him like a tide. After everything his Barbarian body had endured in that dream world, part of him had feared he'd wake up in a different body, or worse, not wake up at all.
But there was a pang of disappointment buried under that relief.
That body... that monstrous, battle-hardened frame... would remain a dream.
A fantasy.
"Dream? Dream!"
He practically dove back under the sheets, pulling the blanket over his head like a ritual. He shut his eyes tight.
And right on cue, the familiar screen flickered into existence:
[Continue Game][Exit Game]
He selected Continue without hesitation.
Within seconds, he returned to the dreamscape, picked up where he left off, and swiftly finished off the remaining undead. No drama this time. Just cold, calculated efficiency. Then he sprinted to the white pillar of light—the point where the mage had spawned.
At the center wasn't a treasure chest, nor a weapon.
It was a book. Old. Tattered. Covered in dried blood.
[Karzak's Journal]
Vikram picked it up. The name was as on-the-nose as it could be, but the contents were anything but ordinary.
The journal chronicled the life of a man named Karzak, from his humble beginnings to his brutal, chaotic end. Toward the final pages, the writing became nearly illegible. Scrawled in a shaky hand, ink smudged by blood and desperation.
Yet the core message came through loud and clear.
Vikram now understood the truth of his Barbarian body.
They weren't humans, not in the way Earthlings defined it. They were something more. A war-born branch of humanity that had evolved far beyond Earth's soft and civilized descendants.
The Barbarians were stronger. Smarter, in a primal, instinctive way. Fierce. Efficient.
Superior.
Or maybe... Earthlings were just the weakest offshoot of the human tree.
Vikram didn't want to admit it, but facts were facts.
Karzak had outlined the evolution of the Barbarian species. Their circulatory systems were hyper-optimized, capable of enhancing their physical abilities at will. Through centuries of bloodshed and adaptation, they developed circulatory techniques, methods that allowed them to weaponize their very bloodstream.
And from that foundation, the Barbarian Cultivation Path was born.
Unlike immortal sects and spiritual paths, Barbarians forged power through flesh and blood. They didn't borrow energy from heaven or earth.
They infused it into their body.
Or so the book said. Actually, the book said that the Barbarian Cultivation aimed to create a "Divine Demonic Immortal Body".
Whatever that was.
Anyway, the first realm was called:
Blood Primal Tempering Realm
The gateway to Barbarian strength.
And with it came their most basic breathing technique:
[Arts Unlocked:]
Axe Throwing Technique (Entry Level)
Breath of the Crimson Pulse (Entry Level)
The Breath of the Crimson Pulse was a common rite of passage among Barbarian youths. Simple, but essential. Most received it upon reaching adulthood.
But to reach Perfection Level?
That was an entirely different beast.
Even the bloodline heirs of Barbarian Deities struggled to grasp its full depth. According to Karzak, the technique was built upon "the profundity of simplicity", and much of that jargon.
Vikram sat down cross-legged and took a deep breath.
He could feel it—the thrum of energy in his veins. The Blood Primal stirred, responding to his focused breathing. His heart pounded harder, faster. Heat bloomed in his chest and spread outward, muscle by muscle, cell by cell.
His entire body began to feel alive.
Powerful.
Unstoppable.
Unfortunately...
It also made him inconveniently horny.
Vikram groaned.
"Out of all the side effects…"
He flopped back down and stared at the sky above him.
This barbarian path… was going to be a wild ride.