Every trait had variant numbers fixed upon awakening. The number of branches a skill tree had depended on these variant numbers.
There was no way for a Bonder to figure out their variant numbers until they unlocked their class and merged their common system with the Purpose chart.
Merging was the turning point in a Bonder's life because that's when they could finally decipher their skill tree accurately and start studying the branches inside it.
Every leaf—or skill—in those branches had three things attached to it: an element, its properties, and the intent behind connecting that specific property to the element.
Except in rare, world-breaking cases, a skill never had more than one element. However, that single element could have multiple properties.
The element and its properties were both fixed. But combining them created countless possible intents, depending on how the formula of the combination played out.
Each intent led to a different output.
Death Sense, for example, allowed me to see the past, present, and future of a living being.
I still wasn't sure whether it had time as its element or time as one of its properties. Maybe both.
Only by using it constantly, learning from it, adapting through trial and error, could I understand the true essence of this skill.
Until then, I couldn't pull out its full potential.
And honestly? I silently cursed the author for not bothering to explain this skill clearly. Thanks to them, I was stuck at a bottleneck.
Still, the current intent I used helped me to scout my surroundings. That alone made it worth using—especially when I was digging this goddamn soil. At least I wasn't doing it blind.
Most of the monsters around me were between level 1 and 10, with the majority being Ferrals. The only mutant nearby was a green snake, about three miles north. Unless I wandered into its territory, it wouldn't hunt me as it was guarding its eggs.
Another monster I had to worry about was goblins. There was a goblin settlement down south, led by a hobgoblin.
Thankfully, that hobgoblin was just a Feral. If it had been a mutant like the snake, things would've gotten ugly real quick.
But their numbers alone made that place dangerous. I wasn't strong enough yet to touch that nest.
To my west, there was a chasm. And not a single monster I shared sights with ventured anywhere near it.
Like they were avoiding something.
So my safest option right now was east.
Most of the monsters in the east were solitary types. That meant I could grind levels by picking off the low-level ones without worrying about facing coordinated attacks.
Once I got stronger, I'd head north and south to clean up, and maybe—just maybe—check out the west.
Turns out, digging soil with bare hands wasn't exactly a pleasant experience. It took me three hours to finally see the sky again.
Activating Death Sense, I synced my vision with a nearby bird and scanned the surroundings.
After confirming no monsters were lying in wait, I carefully pulled myself out of the ground.
Standing on the dampened soil, I took a deep breath.
The hole I'd dug was positioned parallel to a small hill. I'd shaped it intentionally to mimic a cave, something I could use as a shelter to sleep in.
The entrance was just my size, so I didn't have to worry about any big monsters crawling inside.
I covered the entrance with a large rock, brushed the mud off my arms, and began walking… slowly. Cautiously.
Ten meters ahead of me was a small pond. My sight was currently synced with a small bunny drinking water from it.
I had been stalking it for a few minutes, waiting for a suitable moment to kill. I hadn't blindly rushed in just because I saw its details.
[Scorchop: Lvl 1]
Unlike ordinary bunnies, this one could spit fire. Also, it was super cautious—flinching even at falling leaves.
I narrowed my eyes, focusing on the countless threads expanding from it in every direction. These were the possible paths the bunny might take after finishing its drink.
Most of the threads were grey, except a few which turned green and then split into grey and red. One particular thread extended toward me, turning green just near my hiding spot before splitting into three.
One thread turned completely red and reached me. Another veered to my left, turning green. The last one continued to the right, staying grey.
'Red means death, green means life, and grey means unknown?' I murmured internally.
Diamond had stopped talking to me, saying I should figure out my skill on my own. I'd tried to touch the red thread that connected the bunny to me, but to my dismay, it split into countless same-colored threads the moment I touched it.
And whenever I chose one at random, it split again, just like before.
I had tried touching the green thread among the three nearby and saw the bunny continue on its path without encountering any danger.
I paused for a moment before touching the grey thread.
It stayed grey for about twenty meters ahead of me before turning red. When I touched the red section, my sight shifted to black and white, locking onto the bunny.
A sharp metal spike then rushed out from the owner of my sight, impaling the bunny to its death.
I returned to my own sight with a raised brow. So that's it.
The grey thread was a possibility. Every living being had two outcomes—life or death.
Their decisions shaped those outcomes.
If the bunny followed only the green threads, it would live longer, until eventually, that green turned red. If it moved along the grey thread, there was a chance to live or die.
But the red thread always meant death.
But why couldn't I see how I killed it earlier? Was it because there was no fixed way I could have killed it?
Or maybe because some other reason?
That didn't matter now. Because the bunny had chosen me. I saw its otherwise cute body turn red as it neared me.
"Hm… how do I kill it, by the way?" I glanced down at my unarmed hands, then at the bunny who puffed up its cheeks like it was about to spit.
How characterless.