Alan stared at the shimmering runes floating in the air.
His instincts, sharpened by the brutal trials of survival, whispered to him:
"Don't follow their path. Forge your own."
Without fully understanding why, he reached toward the Animist path — but not the stable core where most people would choose.
No.
Alan touched the chaotic edge, where the glyphs shimmered with unstable, forgotten light.
Immediately, the world trembled.
The Grimoire in his hand twisted and morphed, pages flipping wildly.
Then, a new message appeared:
[Hidden Soulpath Unlocked: Animist of the Forgotten Echoes]
Description:
You have resonated with the ancient, abandoned forces of Eldralis.
You are no longer merely a mage — you are a vessel of lost spirits, a wielder of primal chaos.
Soul Attributes Gained:
Spirit Weaving (Passive): Sense and bind nearby wild spirits.
Echo Infusion (Active): Temporarily merge a spirit's trait into your own body.
Forbidden Memory (Locked): ???
Warning:
"This path carries great risk. The spirits of the world may claim your soul if you falter."
Alan gasped, feeling something slither into his being —
Not malevolent... but not entirely safe either.
It was ancient.
It was hungry.
It was power.
"I'll tame it," he thought fiercely. "Or I'll die trying."
As the last echoes of the ritual faded, the mist around him seemed to retreat, as if the forest itself acknowledged his rebirth.
Alan checked his hand — faint blue lines now crisscrossed his skin like glowing veins.
He felt the latent spirits around him — in the stones, in the trees, in the very air.
He was no longer alone.
New Skill Acquired: [Spirit Bind: Lesser Wild Spirit]
Alan could now attempt to capture and bond with a weak wild spirit, gaining new abilities based on what he bonded with.
But the catch was clear —
If he forced a spirit into submission, it might one day rebel.
If he befriended them... he could become unstoppable.
Moments Later
As Alan ventured deeper into the woods, a low growl echoed from the shadows.
Three creatures emerged — deformed, mutated hounds — their skin cracked and oozing with dark mana.
[Corrupted Wildborn Lv 5]
Alan's lips curled into a grin.
This time, he wasn't just prey.
He was a predator too.
The spirits around him stirred, sensing the coming bloodshed.