Training
Chapter 78: Training
/'Where there is an anvil, there must be a forge, and where there is a forge, there must be a fire', or at the least, that is how Vhali was introduced by Lucien, an ancient historian I quite like.
But I think this is one of the rare cases where he is wrong. See, if we were talking about a normal fire, perhaps he would be right. Usually, a fire can be lit and extinguished, heated, fed, and starved, as we humans please. But in the beginning, things were different.
The fire had always been there, always raging underneath, always roaring in the depths of the earth. It shot out rarely, but when it did, its untamed wrath would wreak havoc. The heat would melt rock, and steel, and life, it would tear the flesh from bones, then turn the bones to ash, then melt the ash once more and continue its rampage.
Vhali was the primordial heat, the second spark, the warmth and the rising sun. The second spark, the one that came right after his brother Illuhm, the light. But Vahli was raging, angry at his fate, angry at being the second, and so he tore himself in half.
He sealed his wrath, his pain, his fire underneath the earth, and he gave all his warmth to the sky, where it now rests as the sun. When his temper flares up, we may be faced with heatwaves, and the hottest day of summer is when Vahli recounts his olden days, yet Vah, the sun, cares, and Li, the rage, is still chained under the earth.
That is where the forge was built, where the anvil was placed. Somewhere, deep underground, the anvil on which all things are made, found Li, and tamed it. She took his wrath, his fury, his temper, and gave it a focal point, something to heat. She used it to breathe life into her creations, be those armors, weapons, or the helpers. Somewhere, deep down, she lets Li rage, and when he is done raging, she lets him cool, and hammers all the fury his flame brings with it out of her creations.
Perhaps that is the biggest regret of the gods. The fact that while all of them did their best, the second spark of hate never once was hammered out of the humans that now roam Chronagen. Or perhaps, rather than that, it was always meant to be as such, a challenge we must overcome. It is not my place to say, as I am but a historian, and that is the matter of the church indeed./
An excerpt from "Of Greater Beings", by Matthew Lexicon, the stubborn historian.
- - - - - -
After a little while, Mercury began to meditate again, focusing on his breathing and the mana in the air around him. Given that the level of
Using what he had learned over the course of his existence in this world, Mercury looked within himself. Into his core, the sheen of mana covering his ever expanding core. The space he could shove his mana into had grown quite a bit more than the amount of mana he actually possessed, after all, and it had even changed a little as well. The walls had grown a little smoother, and in parts of it, there seemed to be tiny patches of moss growing.
Mercury assumed those were somehow linked to the growth of his mana pool, or maybe his stamina, or breath... something like that. To be fair, in games stamina was always green, so he could imagine that, but at the same time, green was the colour of plants, so it could very well be linked to
He shook his head a little. No use worrying about that now, it was as it was. So long as it didn't negatively affect him, he wouldn't mind. Instead, the cat turned to his mana pool again, deciding to attempt
It took him a couple of minutes to really get to the nitty gritty of the Skill again. Finding the feeling of where he could send his mana out, then keeping his will attached to the tendril, share its sensation of touch and sense... If he had tried this while awake, it would've taken him at least a couple days, if not weeks to grasp it. No longer having a guide sure was a pain, but in this mental realm, his thoughts always seemed a little bit heightened, which is why it was the perfect place to train.
And with that, Mercury simply spent the rest of his lucid time practicing some magic, slowly trying to understand and closely link himself to still attached figments of mana and magical energy, then reading and understanding their interactions with the surroundings... It felt like he was jumping through hoops a little, but well, it would allow him to actually see past corners, and maybe even through walls eventually.
Then, after some time, he was thrown back out of there as always, entering into normal sleep and dreaming.
- - -
"AAAAAAHHHHH!!!"
Mercury screamed out loud after waking up, bathed in... well, not sweat, but he felt like he would've been. His paw pads were sweaty, at least.
"What's wrong?!" Lucia asked, immediately poking her head into his tent.
"I-... I dreamt I was in a novel full of oversexualized female characters!"
"..."
"What?"
"... Bother me again when you run into an actual problem."
"I didn't call for you! What's with that judgmental look?! Hey, stop running away and talk to me!!"
Overall, the journey went quietly. At night, Mercury would spend his time grasping at
Honestly, he wouldn't have imagined two people could even argue that much. It would've even been impressive, if it weren't so annoying. Still, the cat could very clearly tell that both of them were pulling themselves together, and at least trying not to lash out too much. Ah, the good old days when one had anger issues, truly a strange time for Mercury to remember...
At night, they camped, during the day, they rode the carriage. The terrezays were tame and kind, and the carriage driver was a quiet young fellow, who enjoyed seeing the countryside and sky more so than anything else. Also, Mercury gave Lucia a short explanation on his dream, to clear up any misconceptions she may have gotten about it.
Having to explain modern, male-centered literature to a medieval high-priestess sure was strange, especially when it came to more weirdly lecherous comics. Seriously, if you wanna read smut, just read smut, but why go for that half-baked shit? Mercury, himself, far preferred badass people as side characters...
And so, a day was spent explaining the intricacies of the online literature scene to two, now very interested, idiots. If he ever brought them to earth, he'd show them some of the stuff he meant, and maybe also some more of the books he liked to read when he was younger. Good memories.
Around three quarters of the way through their travels, they stopped in another city and restocked. There, Mercury casually mentioned some northern mythology in an inn, and surprisingly enough, it was, for once, enough to stop Yvette and Lucia from bickering. Both of them were interested. Fucking crazy, Mercury thought.
Still, if some stories of Odin and his homies was enough to calm them down, Mercury was more than happy to oblige, and for the next couple time, when the hotheads flared up, he poured some ice on their parade with little tidbits of information. Just to make it clear, Lucia admired Heimskr, while Yvette liked the concept of valkyries more than she maybe should have. Mercury himself had always liked Loki quite a bit, but that was a common opinion in his days.
Well, he couldn't really tell them more of the in depth stories. He'd been a little into mythology, since he found it much more interesting than monotheistic religions, but most of his knowledge came from videos and stuff he read online, so maybe not all of it was really accurate. Then again, did it really matter in another world?
With that in mind, a couple days later, the group finally arrived at their destination, where Iris would be held, a remote, worn down watchtower, near a mar.
- - - - - -
Avery, on the other hand, was facing his own trouble inside a mar, though it certainly wasn't the one Mercury was approaching. No one would be stupid enough to make a hidden location near a dangerous den full of murderous, bloodthirsty monsters, with superhuman senses and abilities. Beckham, on the other hand, did do just that, although temporarily.
The last couple days had been rough, and he felt the fatigue setting in. He hadn't slept for the last 70 hours or so, and his sight was getting blurry. He also decided that he couldn't be picky about the water, drinking some of the marred substance to increase his potion tolerance. It worked, but it also caused dizziness, vomiting, and occasional auditory hallucinations.
"All part of the process," he muttered to himself, his face unkempt but not haggard. The bags under his eyes were deep furrows, his skin more like a croak. He talked once a day, maybe less, only to keep himself entertained, and he thought that maybe he was slowly going insane. But he had grown stronger.
He had spent maybe three weeks or so in the mar up until now, but he had seen incredible improvement. Higher level, a couple Skill evolutions, his stats increasing, and even his world points were raising. He was single-handedly beating back the mar, the mark of a tear on this world, and he was determined to see it through.
These days he was getting closer to the center at the very least. He no longer roamed the outskirts, having taken care of all the monsters there. His equipment was maintained, somewhat, but it was hanging on almost as barely as him. The only thing in good quality was his shoes. If your weapon dulls, you die, no matter how strong your armor.
The guild master knew that he could take a hit from something like a troll now, maybe even without armor if he saw it coming. But cracking monsters skulls with the bones in his feet? That was a futile endeavour. He shook his head at the simple thought.
By now, his visor had more than a couple cracks in it, and his vision was constantly tinged red. There were more than a couple tears in his shirts, and his pants also were ripped in multiple places. His hair was tied back somewhat messily, and his stomach was grumbling. He hadn't eaten in a little over a day either, because of the constant ambushes.
Deeper inside the mar, there was no time for rest, only fighting. If you were in a party, sure, you could split up the watches, but Avery was alone. He didn't have time to worry about water quality, simply needing it to keep his body cool, and now his ears rung. He didn't have time to properly cook his meals, and had eaten a couple raw chunks of minotaur more than once.
He was changing, certainly. Becoming stronger, and his skin thicker. He knew that alone, no matter how long he spent in that godforsaken place, he couldn't clear the mar, and he was more than aware that he was pushing his limits. Soon he would return, definitely. There was not much need to go on longer.
There was just need for one more step, one more bit of strength, a slight hint of the power to protect, and he was so very close to finding it. Only a couple more months and he would finally catch up to those that were ahead of him, and he would truly be able to protect the city he called home.
With his resolve firm, Avery Beckham pushed himself back off the ground, grimacing at the pain in his legs. There were tons of cuts and bruises all over him, some of them covered up, some not. His eyes were pulsating with dull pain, his vision tinged red from a blood vessel that had popped. He was hearing unholy screeches in his ears because of the poisoned water he drank, and his stomach was grumbling about digesting something raw again, but Avery simply grit his teeth and stepped forward.
"All part of the process," he mumbled hoarsely again, shaking off the fatigue, and placing one foot in front of the other. Then, he repeated the same motion, then once more, and then again a little faster. If anything, Avery was a man of confidence in himself, someone who rode the highs and lows of life like a surfer.
Last thing he remembered was a low, one that might compete for the lowest of his life. That low was enough to spur him on, to give him the drive he needed. The soft limits of the system that were more like a deep swamp, a muddy mountain to climb during a thunderstorm, while all the elements resist you, that kind of low gave him the drive to fight back. All the elements that tried to stop him, the resistance that felt like it was constantly grinding away at his skills, it slowly faded as his steps accelerated.
He felt the rush of the wind again, the hissing in his ears settling down as it was replaced with his own steps, and his vision slowly coming back into focus as adrenaline coursed through his body. He could smell them, smell something that wasn't himself nearby. A minotaur? No, this one was different, perhaps the final hurdle for him to break through, perhaps just one more step forward.
As he ran, Aver found that there was a smile on his lips, his teeth showing as he felt a swing. Things were shifting, he could feel it, as he leapt off the ground and onto a tree. Then, he jumped even higher, a frog who reached for the heavens, and with a third leap, he carried himself over the treeline.
And there, he saw it. The thing that would be the last hurdle before he left. Not a boss monster, but certainly part of the original couple hundred things that left the tear. A beast that breathed white steam from its nostrils, and that stood tall enough to have its horns pierce through the canopy. It was an amalgamation of a minotaur and a mud troll, its body covered in the thick liquid, and its horns looking sharp enough to pierce right through Avery.
The guild master stopped as he saw the thing, and the smile on his face grew into a grin. This was the embodiment of the wall he had faced, the roadblock in front of him, and it was the very beat he had to overcome.
"Bring it on," he whispered to himself, licking his lips and launching himself at the monstrosity with a manic look, the beast's nostrils flaring, and its red eyes turning to him.
"RUUUUOOOOOOO!!!" it bellowed, its instincts immediately kicking in. This wasn't a fly, but a monster of equal rank it was facing. Perhaps, at that moment, a similar thing was going through both of their heads, the monster's giant fists smashing towards Avery, large enough to turn him into paste. They were thinking that this would be a hard fight.
Beckham countered, steam rising off his muscles as they rippled under his skin. He crouched down for a couple of moments, just until the attack was about to hit him, and then he kicked upwards. Within the blink of an eye, Avery's foot hit the minull's hands, and with a sickening 'crack' a bone snapped.
The monster roared in anger, but didn't relent, using its superior weight to push down on Avery and try to press him into the ground, but the man was having none of it. He grit his teeth, and slowly crouched down just a little, then he ground his foot into the cracked bone, hoping to break a little more, and when the beast roared in pain, he used every ounce of strength in his body to drag the attack forward with his foot, redirecting it onto the floor, and once again making the creature hit its broken bone.
As Avery expected, the thing roared in pain, its eyes locking onto the puny thing that did this, yet when it met that tiny thing's eyes, a shiver went down the minull's spine. It was as though it looked at a cornered, rabid beast, those eyes were those of a predator, with slit pupils and a terrifying glow to them.
Only moments later, using the fraction of a second that the monster was stunned, Avery jumped. He used the moment he had gained to gather up a little bit of momentum, then crashed down on the beast's fists, and drove the broken finger against the ground once more, shattering that bone and cracking some more in its hand. But then, with superhuman strength, he pushed his leg down further, launching himself up onto the monster's arm and then running towards its shoulder.
The guild master smiled madly as he got further up, closing in on the thing's face, but in the blink of an eye, he felt an impact on his side, and was launched against a nearby tree. He spat a little blood, looking at what could have hit him, and saw some mud left on the minull's upper arm where he had been. Avery quickly got up, but he was heavier than before, and at least some of his ribs were cracked, and his right shoulder dislocated. He grit his teeth as he stood, half crouched, in front of the now so tall seeming monster, and stared it down.
That thing was looking at him with eyes full of rage and hunger, a giant of dense muscles hidden under mud-covered fur. It was the very image of the wall he had to surpass, of the thing he needed to beat, and there as no backing down. Avery grit his teeth, biting down hard enough to shake his skull, and he activated his stamina more than he had done before. He took his vessel and opened all the flood gates, letting the raging energy stored all over his body escape.
Instantly, he felt himself getting hot, the sweat on his body evaporating and creating a sheen of mist around himself. The blood shot into his eyes, but none of that matter, as the vision of a predator locked onto the prey. For a simple second, his gaze made the minull flinch again, and before the thing had even a shot to react, Avery crouched down.
Things were still for a moment. The man took a deep breath, sizing up the monster in front of him. He ceased being a predator, and was simply a human in front of an insurmountable adversity, in front of a monster that was so much bigger than him, and so much stronger than he could ever hope to be. But none of it mattered.
When Avery breathed out, he felt his muscles burning , his body screaming in resistance as he pushed it past any limits. He pushed against the floor, and it cracked a little, and when he left the ground, he could feel a tendon in his left leg snap.
Well, he only needed one of them to kick anyways.
Not even a fraction of a second later, he contacted with the minull's head, blasting through the protective layer of mud as his foot hit its fur. And then, Avery came to a dead stop, falling to the ground as gravity got to him.
His eardrums had ruptured, so he couldn't hear it, but before gravity claimed him, there was a loud crack, as the minull's head was torn off its spine, its eyes rolled back in its head, its cheek deformed, and it fell to the ground. Yet, by the time the monster was dead, Avery's eyes were already closed.
[Level Up!]
And then open once more.