Chapter 30 - Skill Limit
As he made his way to the Blacksmith District, Zack accessed his inventory, eager to learn the new skills he'd recently acquired.
He began with Celestial Chains, the system confirmed: Celestial Chains acquired.
But when he tried to pick up the others, the system abruptly flashed a warning:
[SYSTEM WARNING]
FURTHER ACTIVE SKILL ACQUISITION LOCKED—
Active Skill Cap: 15
Passive Skill CAP: 3
ADDITIONAL SKILLS CANNOT BE UTILIZED.
[Zack's Active Skill List]
1. Heal
2. Purify
3. Divine Barrier
4. Judgment Ray
5. Ice Lance
6. Chain Lightning
7. Arcane Surge
8. Benediction Aura
9. Adrenaline Rush
10. Blessing of Resolve
11. Resurgence
12. Momentum Shift
13. Frost Barrier
14. Detect
15. Celestial Chains
Zack's Passive Skills List
1. Mana Surge - lvl 1 (Passive) – Increases natural mana recovery by 5%
2. Second Wind - lvl 1 (Passive) – Restores 15% of HP instantly when HP falls below 20%. Triggers automatically. Cooldown: 5 min.
Zack froze, staring at the glowing system message, completely dumbfounded.
For a long moment, he just blinked at it, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
While scrolling through the alert again, a frown slowly formed across his face.
Why wasn't there anything about this in the community? His thoughts raced.
He'd been through countless forum posts, player guides and discussion threads yet not a single mention of any kind of skill limit.
No guides, no leaks, no warnings. Nothing.
Could he delete a skill to make space for new ones? Was there some hidden NPC or item that allowed resets? The system didn't say and that silence was worse than any penalty.
The lack of information bothered him more than he liked to admit.
A limit like this, fifteen active and three passive could completely change how players built their characters.
For someone like him, who relied on flexibility, it wasn't just inconvenient. It could wreck his entire setup.
Not wanting to rely on system, Zack decided to confirm it directly.
He visited several major NPCs in the cities he was familiar with, Priest NPC, Ena from Adventurers Inn, Norak the Blacksmith, even alchemy NPC and other skill instructors known for teaching beginner-level skills.
Each time, he got the same answer.
The NPCs smiled politely, their voice almost apologetic as they explained, "No, once a skill is learned, it cannot be removed."
Some even added, "One must choose carefully. Growth is about mastery, not excess." By the fifth conversation, Zack could already predict the response before they said it. He exhaled sharply through his nose and gave a faint, humorless smile.
So that was it, permanent. No resets. No exceptions.
He stepped away from the last NPC and leaned against the stone railing overlooking the city plaza, watching the distant glow of player spells lighting up the streets.
"Permanent skills" Muttering under his breath, he scrambled to think of a solution, racing through possibilities as frustration and urgency churned inside him.
Zack felt a heavy weight settle in his chest — he was trapped.
Then he hurriedly logged out and stepped out of his capsule, exiting his room, only to spot Rin finishing his dinner.
Rin noticed the tension on Zack's face. "Hey… what's going on? You look like you just fought a field boss in real life."
Zack dragged a hand through his hair and let out a quiet sigh. He laid out the situation as clearly as he could; the skill limit, the pressure it put on him and the dilemma he was stuck in, while leaving out the encounter with the blond man and the rest.
Rin froze mid-bite. "Wait… seriously?
His eyes widened in shock and then he muttered, "You're so doomed…"
"I know," Zack admitted, frustration creeping into his voice. "I thought I had everything planned but now… I don't even know what I can do next."
Rin shifted closer, concern sharpening into determination. "Hey… it's early game. There has to be some way around it. You just need to figure it out."
Zack nodded. "Yeah… maybe you're right," he admitted, then started browsing forums and community boards about skill limits.
Zack scrolled through his phone in the dining area, still mulling over the skill limit issue.
There was barely any discussion on the topic but he did find a few players who had learned too many skills, just like him.
They, too, seemed unaware of the restriction and were asking if there was any way to remove learned skills.
Seeing that the forums offered no help, Zack chose to set the issue aside for the time being and walked back to his VR capsule to log into Immortal Conflict.
Once inside, after a moment of thought, Zack decided it was best to inform Obi, Haze, Iris and Point.
He trusted them enough not to bother keeping it secret. Besides, word would get out sooner or later and odds were plenty of players in the same boat.
Zack opened the in-game chat window and created a quick group channel, tagging the familiar names — @Obi, @Haze, @Iris, @Point. They were all online, their status indicators showing "Active."
Zack: "There's something you all should know about skills."
Obi: "What's up? I'm kinda mid-fight here."
Zack: "You can only have 15 active skills and 3 passive skills at any given time. I've already reached the maximum. There's nothing more I can learn."
There was a brief pause in the chat, even the indicators for typing flickered on and off for a moment.
Iris: "Hold on, what? So… there's no way to unlearn any skills?"
Zack: "Nope. Once you learn them, they're there for good. I verified with city NPCs/forums, they all confirmed the same. Just giving you guys a heads up. The rest is on you."
Point: "Wow. So no chance for skill resets, huh?"
Zack: "None that I came across."
The chat fell silent for a brief moment again…that type of stillness that occurs when everyone's contemplating something significant while grinding.
Haze (still unsure): "Um… are you going to be okay?"
Zack: "I'll be fine. It's not like the world is ending. You don't need to worry about me."
Haze (raising an eyebrow): "Who said I'm concerned about you?"
Point: "Pff— maxing out already in early game. You really went all out, huh?"
Obi: "It's good to know, though. No more random skill selection for us."
The chat brightened up a few seconds later.
Iris: "You must be joking… right? I was just about to select two offensive skills after noticing your damage from the past three days."
A pause. Then another message appeared almost instantly.
Iris: "Good thing you said something. I had no idea there was a cap. With my WIS build, I'd have just wasted slots trying to play DPS."
Zack eased back slightly, lips curving faintly.
Zack: "Yeah. That would've been a bad idea."
Iris: "Ugh, imagine — a healer who can't heal or fight. That would've been tragic."
Her message was followed by a sigh emoji.
Zack chuckled under his breath, then typed,
Zack: "Guess you owe me one, then."
Zack's fingers stilled on the screen, a quiet thump of frustration slipping out of him. Everything felt like it was piling up—
One mess after another and his thoughts churned. Still, it was something of a relief to know he had dependable companions at his back.
With that small comfort, he closed the chat window. The warning was delivered, his part was done.
For now, there wasn't much else to do except move forward — skill limit or not.
Now standing in the middle of the bustling plaza, Zack folded his arms and let out a slow breath. The faint glow of spell effects and the chatter of other players surrounded him but his mind was elsewhere, focused entirely on his build.
He needed to think this through. If skills couldn't be unlearned, then every choice from here on carried weight. One bad call now could ruin his progression down the line.
He reviewed his current setup in his mind, strong buff skills, decent offensive options and his defense wasn't lacking either.
Divine Barrier and Frost Armor gave him enough survivability to stand his ground when things got rough.
Adrenaline Rush – Level 1, increases movement speed and attack power by 20% for 10 sec, 120 second cooldown.
Zack triggered it, feeling the sudden surge of energy pulse through his limbs. He'd picked it mostly for the speed, not the power boost.
Now that he looked over his skill list, this was the only movement-based ability he had.
Every other skill was tied to damage, healing or support — nothing that actually helped him reposition or escape when things went bad. For a priest, that was a problem.
Mobility had always been their weakest point, as they were forced to rely on their party to cover them but Zack didn't like depending on others to survive.
Adrenaline Rush wasn't perfect but it gave him options, a brief window to move, to react.
And then there was Celestial Chains. That skill alone was a saving grace. The ability to link it with other spells and amplify their damage made his entire build feel more cohesive.
He exhaled lightly. "Could've been worse," he muttered under his breath.
If he had gone with the other skill he was planning to learn earlier, he might've ended up stuck with something completely redundant by now.
At least Celestial Chains gave him versatility, the kind of edge he needed in a game that clearly rewarded planning over impulse.
But the moment he read Momentum Shift's description, his stomach tightened.
This wasn't just a high-tier skill, it was proof the game had class-specific ultimate abilities baked into its progression.
And whether he now qualified to learn his own… he had no idea.
Even with the lead he'd built, missing an ultimate could change everything.
One missing trump card and the future of any high-level content would turn into a nightmare.
"...Fuck."
The word slipped out like a knife. As he remembered the message within the letter.
The warnings from the letter overwhelmed him once more and any sense of security crumbled alongside it. It became clear that even if this was merely a "game," the repercussions were anything but trivial.
Still, the situation wasn't all bad.
Zack was still ahead of most players, his stats outpaced theirs thanks to early first clears and his funds were solid from consistent potion sales.
He decided not to panic and instead stick to what had worked so far:
Aim for more first clears, keep farming gold through alchemy, push his profession ranks for the bonus stats they offered and focus on quests that granted permanent stat rewards.
It was not a perfect plan but it was steady and in both the game and real life, steadiness was what kept him afloat.
He was beginning to understand something he hadn't before — Immortal Conflict wasn't just another VRMMO.
It wasn't a game that handed out victories or comfort. Beneath its beautiful surface, every mechanic hid something deliberate… something meticulously unforgiving.
The systems weren't random; they were traps waiting for anyone who didn't pay attention.
Skill limits, hidden stat triggers, unrevealed class evolutions shown only in trailers, everything seemed designed to push players into acting before they fully understood the consequences.
The idea that the system wanted players to make mistakes was what unsettled him most.
Even the smallest oversight could change a build, ruin an advantage or seal a player's long-term progress.
He thought back to how easily he'd chosen skills earlier, unaware of the hard cap. Now, that single moment of carelessness had locked a part of his future progress.
He exhaled slowly. The game doesn't forgive mistakes… it remembers them.
And then it hit him— the title itself, Immortals Conflict.
The word Immortal was deceptive; it didn't mean endless life. It meant endless struggle. The word Immortal was never about eternity, it was about endurance. A cruel joke hidden beneath a grand title.
It didn't promise life without end; it promised struggle without rest.
Every loss, every setback, was part of its design. The system didn't care who won. It only watched to see who could last the longest before breaking.
In the end, being "Immortal" didn't mean surviving forever. It meant refusing to die, no matter how many times the world tried to erase you.
Zack gazed at the horizon, where the mana-laced mist curled between the city's tall spires.
Somewhere out there, others were racing ahead for the first clears.
Guilds were already forming, alliances being drawn up and players staking early claims on regions that would soon turn into contested territories once the patch dropped.
He wasn't laughing or dismissing their efforts, he understood it.
This was how Immortals Conflict worked. Those who stayed still were left behind and those who moved without thinking lost just as easily.
He was caught up in it too, though in his own way.
Every new discovery, every tempting spell or ability he saw others flaunting, came with a quiet frustration, he had no room left for skills.
He clenched his hand lightly, the faint shimmer of his staff's magical aura glowed softly at his side.
Immortal Conflict wasn't just a world to play in, it was a test ground of how long one could endure the fight that never truly ended.