Chapter 24: Fool's Gold

Chapter 24: Fool's Gold

[Congratulations, your Soul Power has increased by five.]

[Soul Card: The Fool.

Rank: Ephemeral [Legendary Unique]

Level: 2 [5134/ 25000]

Ability:

Shroud, Level 1

Passive Shroud:

Makes the wielder invulnerable to all detection/scrying/location cards. Displays a False [Player Statistics] screen to anyone with an [Identification] type card.

Active Shroud, Maya

Deceive oneself to deceive the world.

Fools Gold, Level 1

To the [Grand Illusionist], the greatest illusion is one that is indecipherable from reality. Ones grandest desires amplified to the point where they lose themselves in the depths of their mind. Ones greatest fear made so visceral that the battle is won before the swords are drawn.

To [The Fool], the greatest illusion in the world is to deceive the very laws that govern this land. To make the impossible, reality.

To give shape, form and weight to an illusion.

Mimic:

Record any [1] non-living, non-consumable weapon, equipment or item within [20] levels of the Soul Cards current level and upto a maximum of [Rare] rarity. Recreate an illusion that can mimic upto 10% of the objects ability and copy [1] still.]

Despite the limitations imposed by [The Fool] card, Tom had to re-read his newly acquired sklls description multiple times to make sure he wasnt dreaming. Firstly, he had gotten an actual skill description instead of useless proverbs and equally frustrating platitudes. Adding on, despite the severe limitations tacked onto his one useful skill. It was still beyond anything he wouldve dreamed of.

To give physical form to an illusion decidedly felt like a power that quite frankly, he didnt believe that he deserved.

[Proprioception: 10]

Fuck, Tom uttered, panting heavily as a melange of emotions coursed through his soul exultation, fear and a twinge of uncertainty. He couldnt afford to lose himself like that again but he couldnt bring himself to regret his decision either.

Standing under the forests canopy, Toms hand shot out with explosive acceleration. A second later, pinched between his index finger and his thumb, was a falling leaf.

This was crazy.

Now, even with one hand, he could deftly switch out one card for another. That added an entirely different level of versatility to his skillset, though Tom would still much rather prefer a different alternative.

[10] points seemed like a good, rounded number to stop, and he didnt want to put all his eggs in one basket.

Next, he dumped three points into physical.

Oh, thats weeeeird, He groaned. His muscle tissue began to wriggle and writhe under his skin and if Tom had to guess, it was following the same principles as bodybuilding creating small tears in the muscle, repairing and rebuilding them in real time, creating faster, stronger and leaner muscle tissue in real time. Or it was simply magic, but Tom preferred to cling to his earthen knowledge.

When the process had concluded, Tom clenched his fist, flexing his newly acquired muscles. He began throwing a flurry of jabs, with a few hooks mixed in. Even though he didnt have a complete measure of his strength, he could tell that a single punch from him would hurt, and his high [Proprioception] meant that he could throw a lot more than a solitary punch in a short timeframe.

One point went into [Mental], and Tom immediately regretted it.

It didnt make him smarter, which was in fact, something Tom was dreading more than looking forward to. It was more a philosophical question than a matter of pragmatism if his intelligence increased by a hundred, or for that matter, even my ten times, would he still be functionally the same person? Would a being that intelligent have the same thought processes, thought patterns and desires as Tom? To him, it seemed more a curse than a boon.

Thankfully, he didnt have to answer that question. He was still smarter, in a manner of interpretation of the word. His thoughts were clearer and Tom was able to process information faster. He understood the necessity of the [attribute], because [Proprioception] meant little if he couldnt process the information his natural reflexes were conveying. The ratio probably didnt have to be 1:1 but still, he understood the reason for its necessity.

The problem was. It also made him remember things, memories that he had buried deep within the recesses of his mind. The distraction was something he could do without but. It was necessary.

Clenching his fist hard, Tom inputted the last point into the [Mental] stat.

There was a saying in his town, one whose exact wording Tom had long forgotten, but its ethos,had stuck with him. It was something along the lines of when the scales of fortune are finally tipped in your favor, keep going and all your dreams will come true. He supposed that it was one of those platitudes small town folks liked to believe, but he was also self-aware enough to accept that he was a cynic.

Tom was out hunting, but it had been six, mayhaps seven hours since hed last encountered a beast. Hed switched back to hunting in the day, mainly because he was begining to feel the first effects of extended isolation, and the daytime seemed more pleasant to be wandering around in the forest.

It was then, that he heard a series of odd, garbled voices with an unfamiliar inflection, a strange, foriegn rhythm that made it sound like gibberish to his ears. Tom immediately dropped down to his knees, stealthily positioning himself behind cover with practised, clean motions.

Zenthrum akar zel rahn mok deralun ke kerak snah, intoned the voice, and it was that moment when goosebumps rose on Toms pale white skin.

It was a language.