Chapter 4 - Trial by fire ~ Day One
The air crackled with anticipation as we entered the mission center, to hand in our orb. The reward ceremony was underway, the hall buzzing with excitement. Hunter nudged me, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Think they'll give us a decent payout for a C-class monster?" he whispered.
One stood a little apart, observing the scene with an air of detachment. He seemed more interested in the technical data being displayed on the holographic screens than the actual reward ceremony.
Finally, our names were called. We stepped forward to collect our Lumina, the digital currency that was the lifeblood of this new world. A hefty sum, enough to buy new gear, maybe even some much-needed repairs for our weapons.
"Not bad," Hunter grinned, checking his Lumina balance. "We can finally afford some decent armour for a change."
"Agreed," I said, already thinking about what I'd spend my share on.
One, however, remained unfazed. "Do not let these rewards distract you from your training," he said, his voice cutting through the celebratory atmosphere. "The threat is real, and we must be prepared."
Later that evening, the aroma of actual cooked food, a welcome change from nutrient paste, filled the small apartment. As we ate, Hunter, ever the planner, brought up our next steps. "So, One, about this training you mentioned… where were you thinking?"
One set down his chopsticks, his gaze steady. "The Whispering Woods."
My fork clattered against my plate. "The Whispering Woods? Isn't that… incredibly dangerous?" The stories I'd heard painted it as a haven for powerful and unpredictable monsters.
Hunter's initial enthusiasm dimmed slightly. "Yeah, I've heard things. High monster density, erratic shard activity…"
One remained impassive. "It is precisely because of these factors that we will train there. For Hunter, the environment will push your physical limits. For Zero," his gaze locked onto mine, "it will force you to confront your shard control, to master it under duress." He didn't elaborate on the deeper reasons, the unsettling echoes he saw in my raw power.
I exchanged a worried glance with Hunter. "But… wouldn't a less hostile environment be better for learning the basics?" I argued.
One's expression didn't soften. "Comfort breeds complacency. Survival demands adaptability." His tone left no room for further debate. Laina, who had been quietly observing, looked up, a flicker of concern in her eyes. "Be careful," she murmured. One's gaze flickered towards her, a hint of something unreadable in his expression, before he turned back to us.
* * * *
The Whispering Woods lives up to its ominous name. Every shadow seems to writhe, every rustle of leaves whispers of unseen predators. Barely an hour in, and the air crackles with a hostile energy. Then it erupts. A hulking brute, its limbs thick as tree trunks and claws like obsidian shards, bursts from the dense foliage. One remains a silent sentinel against a gnarled oak, his gaze sharp but his body still. It's just Hunter and me.
The monster roars, a sound that vibrates in my chest, and lunges for Hunter. He manages to sidestep, his movements surprisingly agile, but the follow-up blow catches him square in the ribs. I wince as I hear the sickening thud. I launch myself forward, a wild burst of unfocused energy crackling around my fists, but it's like hitting a wall. The monster barely registers my attack, its red eyes fixated on Hunter, who is now reeling, clutching his side.
The fight becomes a brutal dance of desperation. Hunter ducks and weaves, landing glancing blows that seem to only irritate the beast. But he's getting slower, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The monster slams a massive fist into the ground where he was just standing, the earth shuddering. Fear, cold and sharp, pierces through me. I try to channel the raw energy within, the same surge that manifested the fire gauntlets before, but it's stubbornly dormant, refusing to answer my panicked will.
Hunter takes another brutal hit, sent sprawling against a tree. He coughs, and I see a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. "I… I can't keep this up," he grits out, his voice strained. "I don't want to… drag you down, Zero." His raw honesty hits me harder than any blow. He's fighting not just for himself, but for us.
A surge of protectiveness, fierce and sudden, ignites within me. It's not the same as before, not a wild eruption, but a focused, burning intensity. My fists clench, and this time, the energy responds. It's a raw, untamed fire, licking at my skin, threatening to consume me, but it's there. I lunge at the monster, ignoring the searing pain, and land a desperate punch. The impact is jarring, and the monster stumbles back, a guttural roar escaping its throat. Where my fist connected, its flesh seems to… disperse, dissolving into grotesque blobs.
Hunter, barely able to stand, his arm hanging at an unnatural angle, fumbles for the familiar cylinder. With a groan, he manages to scoop the dissolving remains into the device. It whirs, creating a swirling, unstable pseudo-orb. We collapse against the base of a tree, exhausted and battered.
It's then that One finally moves. He approaches, his expression unreadable, and tosses me a rolled-up scroll. "Fifth Technique," he says simply, his gaze intense. "Learn it." Before I can ask anything, the pseudo-orb on the ground begins to crackle ominously. The swirling energy inside intensifies, and with a violent shudder, the monster begins to reform, its dispersed flesh coalescing. The artificial orb shatters, and the wind monster is free once more, its red eyes burning with renewed fury. We scramble back to our feet, adrenaline overriding the pain.
The fight resumes, even more desperate than before. The monster, seemingly unharmed by its brief containment, unleashes gusts of wind that tear through the trees. I try to access the raw fire again, but it's elusive, a phantom memory. Hunter, despite his injuries, throws himself into the fray, his movements hampered but his spirit unbroken.
Amidst the chaos, I clutch the scroll, my eyes scanning the intricate diagrams and cryptic text. It speaks of channeling inner energy, of shaping the raw shards into tangible forms. I focus, pushing past the pain in my hands, the fear of the monster, the exhaustion that threatens to pull me under. I visualize the forms in the scroll, the flow of energy, the intricate weaves of the Fifth Technique. Slowly, tentatively, I feel the energy within me shift, becoming more controlled. Crimson light still emanates from my fists, but now it feels different, contained. Hardened edges of what feels like iron form around the flames, the heat less intense, focused. Bursts of shard energy erupt from them, and a sudden clarity washes over me. I feel faster, stronger, more connected to the power within.
The monster lunges, a vortex of wind swirling around its claws. Instinct takes over. I sidestep, a newfound agility in my movements, and with a surge of determination, I slam my open palm against its chest. "Fifth Technique: Flames of Hell!" A torrent of focused crimson flames erupts from my palm, tearing through the monster. Its form doesn't just disperse this time; it disintegrates, leaving behind nothing but faint wisps of smoke.
In that moment, a memory flashes in my mind: One, during our first encounter with a monster, his hand outstretched, a similar focused energy emanating from it as the creature dissolved into an orb. I mimic his action, focusing my intent, visualizing the containment. The remaining wisps of the wind monster coalesce, shrinking, solidifying into a glowing orb.
My legs give out, and I collapse face-first onto the forest floor. Hunter, despite his own pain, is instantly beside me, his hand gently turning me over. He examines the orb, a look of surprised understanding spreading across his face. Etched faintly on its surface is the number '5'. He then tends to my burned hands and his own injuries, his brow furrowed in concentration. As he works, he murmurs, "All that research… the theories about direct shard manipulation… it wasn't just theories." A tired but triumphant grin spreads across his face.
We lean against the tree, the silence broken only by our ragged breaths and the chirping of unseen insects. A fragile sense of victory settles over us, quickly followed by a bone-deep weariness. Just as I begin to drift off, a sharp, unfamiliar sound echoes through the stillness of the Whispering Woods, shattering the hard-won peace.of determination, I slam my open palm against its chest. "Fifth Technique: Flames of Hell!" A torrent of focused crimson flames erupts from my palm, tearing through the monster. Its form doesn't just disperse this time; it disintegrates, leaving behind nothing but faint wisps of smoke.
In that moment, a memory flashes in my mind: One, during our first encounter with a monster, his hand outstretched, a similar focused energy emanating from it as the creature dissolved into an orb. I mimic his action, focusing my intent, visualizing the containment. The remaining wisps of the wind monster coalesce, shrinking, solidifying into a glowing orb.
My legs give out, and I collapse face-first onto the forest floor. Hunter, despite his own pain, is instantly beside me, his hand gently turning me over. He examines the orb, a look of surprised understanding spreading across his face. Etched faintly on its surface is the number '5'. He then tends to my burned hands and his own injuries, his brow furrowed in concentration. As he works, he murmurs, "All that research… the theories about direct shard manipulation… it wasn't just theories." A tired but triumphant grin spreads across his face.
We lean against the tree, the silence broken only by our ragged breaths and the chirping of unseen insects. A fragile sense of victory settles over us, quickly followed by a bone-deep weariness. Just as I begin to drift off, a sharp, unfamiliar sound echoes through the stillness of the Whispering Woods, shattering the hard-won peace.