Primordial Awakening: I Breathe Skill Points!-Chapter 64: The Gamble (2)

Zeph’s heart hammered against his ribs, each beat thunderous in the silence of his apartment. The crystal was so hot now it was almost painful to hold, but he didn’t dare let go, didn’t dare move, as if any disturbance might tip the balance toward failure.

’Please. Please work. I can’t lose both skills. Not after everything.’

The copper red radiance inside the crystal had frozen mid-swirl, suspended in a way that looked fundamentally wrong—like watching water stop flowing mid-pour, defying physics and logic.

Twenty seconds.

’Is it failing? Is this what failure looks like?’

Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool air. His enhanced VIT meant he rarely sweated anymore—his body regulated temperature too efficiently—but the psychological stress was overwhelming his physical conditioning.

’34,000 credits for the crystal. Two A-rank skills. Weeks of planning. All of it about to evaporate because the fusion can’t stabilize.’

Twenty-five seconds of nothing. Just frozen light and mounting dread.

The System interface flickered, and for a horrible moment he thought it was about to display a failure message. His stomach dropped, his grip on the crystal tightening involuntarily.

’No. No, no, no—’

Thirty seconds.

’This is taking too long. Something’s wrong. Fusions don’t take this long to stabilize. The forums said the final check is usually instant—either it works or it doesn’t.’

’Unless the compatibility calculation was wrong. Unless 87% wasn’t high enough. Unless—’

The crystal pulsed again, stronger this time.

Then again.

And again, settling into a rhythm like a heartbeat.

[STABILITY CHECK: IN PROGRESS]

[Analyzing skill coherence: 47%...]

’It’s still going. It hasn’t failed yet.’

Hope warred with terror in his chest. The percentage was climbing, but slowly. So slowly.

[52%... 58%...]

’What happens if it gets to 99% and fails? Do I just lose everything at the last possible second?’

His mind conjured nightmare scenarios: both skills destroyed, 34,000 credits wasted, his entire strategic advantage for the ruins evaporated. He’d be going in with a weaker build than planned, no trump card, no finishing move to handle the threats that had killed thirty B-rank awakened.

[63%... 69%...]

The crystal’s internal light shifted, the frozen streams beginning to move again—not smoothly, but in fits and starts, like machinery struggling to turn over.

Zeph forced himself to breathe steadily, fighting the urge to hold his breath.

’In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Stay calm. Panicking won’t help.’

But calm felt impossible when his entire preparation strategy hung in the balance.

[74%... 79%...]

’Come on. Just twenty-one more percent. Just finish the process.’

The heat from the crystal intensified again, crossing the threshold from uncomfortable to genuinely painful. His enhanced VIT meant his pain tolerance was higher than normal humans, but this was testing those limits. It felt like holding a coal fresh from a fire.

But he didn’t let go. Couldn’t let go. Some instinct told him that dropping the crystal now, during the stability check, would guarantee failure.

[83%... 87%...]

’Eighty-seven percent. That’s the same number as the compatibility rating. Is that significant? Is the stability check verifying the original calculation?’

His palm was burning now, the skin red and angry where it contacted the crystal. In a few more seconds, it would probably start blistering.

’Worth it. Blisters heal. Lost A-rank skills don’t.’

[91%... 94%...]

The copper-red veins inside the crystal suddenly flared brilliant, the light so intense Zeph had to squint. A unified flow of energy that spiraled with hypnotic precision.

’Six percent left. Just six percent between success and catastrophic failure.’

[97%...]

Time seemed to stretch, each second feeling like an eternity. Zeph was acutely aware of everything: the burn of the crystal against his palm, the hammering of his heart, the taste of adrenaline-tinged fear in his mouth, the way his other hand was clenched so tight his knuckles had gone white.

Three percent remaining.

Two percent.

One percent.

The light peaked, becoming almost painful to look at directly—

[STABILITY CHECK: PASSED]

The tension released from Zeph’s body so suddenly he almost collapsed. His knees went weak, relief flooding through him with physical force.

[Progress: 97%... 100%]

[FUSION COMPLETE]

The crystal’s light vanished all at once, the brilliant radiance collapsing inward and disappearing like it had never existed. The sphere cracked with a sound like breaking glass, hairline fractures spreading across its perfect surface in an instant. Then it crumbled to ash in Zeph’s palm, the remains falling through his fingers like sand, leaving nothing but a faint warm residue on his blistered skin and the lingering scent of ozone in the air.

For a moment, Zeph just stood there, breathing hard, staring at the ash on his hand.

’It worked. Holy shit, it actually worked.’

Then his System interface flared with text that seemed somehow more vivid than normal notifications, burning with importance:

[NEW SKILL CREATED]

[CALAMITY STRIKE]

[Rank: S]

[Type: Passive/Active - Catastrophic Finisher]

[Passive Effect: Generate 1 Calamity Point (CP) every 5 seconds while in active combat. Maximum storage: 100 CP. CP does NOT decay outside of combat.]

[Active Effect: Consume all stored CP in a single devastating strike. Each CP adds 10% to base weapon damage (100 CP = 1,000% damage). Strike releases shockwave dealing 50% of impact damage to all enemies within (CP/5) meters (max 20-meter radius at 100 CP).]

[Additionally: For 10 seconds after using Calamity Strike, gain 20% movement speed and attack speed per 25 CP consumed (max 80% at 100 CP).]

[Active Cooldown: None (can be used whenever CP is available)]

[Active MP Cost: 150 + (5 per CP consumed)]

Zeph read the description once, his eyes widening with each line, the fear from moments ago evaporating into pure exhilaration.

Read it again, slower, making sure he wasn’t misunderstanding the mechanics, that this wasn’t some fever dream born from stress.

Read it a third time, his mind processing the full implications of what the fusion had created.

’S-rank. The fusion created an S-RANK skill.’

His heart was still hammering, but now from excitement rather than terror. S-rank skills were rare—extremely rare. Most awakened never acquired even one during their entire careers. They were the domain of A-rank and S-rank hunters, the kind of abilities that defined legendary builds and turned ordinary fighters into powerhouses.

’And the mechanics...’

He broke down each component systematically, his analytical mind immediately running combat calculations, the professional detachment helping him process the emotional whiplash of the last few minutes.

CP generation: 1 every 5 seconds while in active combat.

’That’s SIX TIMES faster than the original Accumulated Disaster, which generated 1 CP every 30 seconds.’

’To reach 100 CP now takes 500 seconds. That’s 8 minutes and 20 seconds instead of 50 minutes.’

’That’s... that’s actually manageable for extended fights. Boss battles. Difficult enemies. Long dungeon runs where combat is sustained.’

’I can actually USE this at full power in realistic scenarios instead of needing nearly an hour of perfect combat.’

Damage scaling: Still 10% per CP, maximum 1,000% damage at 100 stacks.

’Same potential devastation as before, but achievable in a fraction of the time. A strike that can deal ten times my base weapon damage.’

’With my current ATK and weapon, that’s easily enough to one-shot most enemies in my rank range. Probably enough to seriously damage things above my weight class.’

Shockwave: 50% of impact damage instead of the original 30%, with radius based on CP spent.

’At 100 CP, that’s a 20-meter radius. That’s MASSIVE AOE coverage—enough to clear entire groups of enemies.’

’And at 50% damage transfer, even the shockwave alone will be devastating. Enemies that survive the initial strike might not survive the blast.’

Post-strike buff: 80% movement and attack speed for 10 seconds at maximum CP consumption.

’After landing the finishing blow, I become 80% faster for follow-up attacks or escape. That’s... that’s incredible for chaining into additional targets or repositioning after the burst.’

’The original skills didn’t have any post-strike benefits. This adds a whole new dimension—the ability to capitalize on the opening created by the massive damage.’

’I could potentially wipe a boss, then immediately turn that speed boost toward clearing adds or escaping the combat zone before reinforcements arrive.’

Also CP persistence doesn’t decay outside combat.

’This is perfect. This is EXACTLY what I needed.’

He felt a surge of satisfaction so intense it was almost physical, the relief of success mixing with the thrill of power. The gamble had paid off beyond his best-case projections. The thirty seconds of terror during the stability check had been worth it.

’A finisher that rewards both patience and aggression. Fast enough to be practical in real combat scenarios. Powerful enough to shatter even A-rank defenses in a single strike.’

’And the post-strike mobility boost means I won’t be locked into a vulnerable position after using it. I can strike and reposition, strike and escape, strike and press the advantage.’

The tactical applications were already forming in his mind, pushing out the lingering fear from the fusion process. He could enter fights cautiously, build CP while assessing enemy patterns, then unleash a devastating strike at the optimal moment. Or he could save maximum CP for boss encounters, entering with full power already stored and ready to deploy.

This was insane—

His phone buzzed on the table, the vibration cutting through his thoughts and pulling him back to reality.

A message notification lit up the screen. Horizon Gaming, his sponsor.

He picked up the phone, his blistered palm stinging slightly as he gripped it, still riding the high of the successful fusion mixed with the fading adrenaline from near-failure.

"Hi Kai! Saw you completed placements (congrats on Gold I!).

The message was cheerful, professional, enthusiastic. Exactly what he’d expect from a sponsor eager to start promoting their new talent. Such a normal message after such an abnormal experience.

’Streaming. Right. That’s part of the sponsorship deal.’

The contract terms came back to him: twenty hours per month of streaming gameplay. That worked out to five hours per week, distributed however he wanted. Totally reasonable. Most sponsored players did far more than that.

’Twenty hours per month. Five hours per week. Totally manageable.’

He typed back carefully, keeping his tone professional and appreciative: "Can start after January 15th. Have personal matter to handle first week. Will coordinate schedule then."

Professional. Non-specific. Bought him time to deal with the expedition without raising questions about what exactly he was doing or why he needed the delay.

He hit send and set the phone down, flexing his burned hand experimentally. The skin was red and angry, small blisters already forming where the crystal had been hottest. It would heal quickly with his enhanced VIT—probably within a day or two—but for now it throbbed with each pulse of his still-elevated heartbeat.

Jenny’s response came thirty seconds later: "No problem! Take your time. Let us know when you’re ready. Good luck with your personal matter! 😊"

’Good. No pressure. No questions.’

’Six days until the expedition. Six days to get as strong as possible with my new S-rank skill.’

He stood up from the table, energy coursing through him despite the emotional exhaustion of the fusion process. The fear had transformed into determination. Sleep felt impossible now, his mind too active, too focused on the weapon he’d just created.

’But first, I need to actually PRACTICE with it. Understand its limits. Figure out optimal combat patterns.’

’An S-rank skill is only as good as the person wielding it. I need to internalize the mechanics until using Calamity Strike becomes instinctive.’

He grabbed his crude goblin axe from where it leaned against the wall, the weapon feeling almost comically inadequate compared to the skill he’d just acquired. The worn handle was rough against his burned palm, making him wince slightly.

’VR. Private lobby. Spend the whole day drilling combinations until this trump card becomes as natural as breathing.’

His burned hand still throbbing, his heart still racing from the near-failure of the fusion.

But he was smiling.

Because he had his trump card.

Because the gamble had paid off.

Because when he walked into those ruins in six days, he’d have something none of those thirty dead B-rank awakened had possessed.

He’d have Calamity Strike.

And whatever was waiting in those ruins...

It had no idea what was coming.