Chapter 34 – First Steps as a Team
Morning mist blanketed the forest clearing. Dew glistened on leaves, and the air thrummed faintly with ambient mana.
Auther stood in the center of the camp, arms crossed, eyes sharp as flint. In front of him, the three girls stood in a rough line — Elira with her training dagger, Lyra crouched with her twin short blades, and Veyra still unarmed but calm, unnervingly composed.
This was the first day of real team training.
"First rule," Auther said, voice cutting through the silence, "don't die."
Lyra blinked. Elira stiffened. Veyra's lips twitched, almost forming a smirk.
"Second rule: listen when I speak. In combat, hesitation and confusion get people killed. You follow orders. If you question them, do it after the fight."
All three nodded.
Auther tossed a stick to Veyra. She caught it one-handed without flinching.
"You'll be fighting with that until I'm convinced you won't snap a real blade in half."
She didn't protest.
He took a few steps back, then pointed to the tree line. "You have ten seconds. Get into position. This isn't a game. Treat this like a real threat scenario. I want to see how you move."
The girls scattered.
Elira moved left, light on her feet, taking cover behind a half-fallen trunk. Lyra went up a tree with agile ease, hiding herself among the branches. Veyra didn't move far — she stepped into a shadowed dip near the camp's edge and crouched low, eyes narrowed.
Auther waited, counting down silently.
Then he moved.
No warning.
He activated Reflex Sync and dashed into the clearing with mana-enhanced speed. A blur of motion and he was already on them.
Elira reacted first, lunging from the left with a sweep of her dagger.
He caught it with the flat of his blade and shoved her back — not too hard, but enough to send her stumbling.
Lyra dropped down from the tree, aiming for his exposed back.
He turned and ducked, grabbed her by the collar mid-fall, and flung her into a bush.
"Too loud," he said.
Then Veyra struck.
A flash of pale motion. Her stick whipped toward his side with calculated precision.
He blocked — barely. Her strength was restrained, but her form was refined.
She stepped back before he could counter, expression unreadable.
They stared at each other.
He nodded. "Better."
Ten minutes later, the first round was over. Lyra was scowling, brushing twigs from her hair. Elira was panting, bent over and holding her knees. Veyra stood silently, no trace of exertion on her face.
Auther sheathed his blade.
"Alright. Now that I've seen how you move, we begin properly."
---
They trained for hours.
Auther drilled them on positioning, target prioritization, movement synergy, and fallback patterns. He forced them to fight in pairs, then rotate partners. He watched how Elira used footwork over strength, how Lyra relied too much on instinct, and how Veyra calculated her opponent's flaws before moving in.
He corrected form, taught tempo, made them repeat until it hurt.
By the time the sun began to dip, sweat soaked all three girls, and their limbs trembled from exhaustion.
But they didn't quit.
Even Veyra, who had barely spoken a word, stayed until the end — waiting silently, blade still at the ready.
That evening, as they ate quietly around the fire, Auther finally broke the silence.
"You did well."
Elira looked up in surprise. Lyra perked. Even Veyra blinked once, faintly.
He continued, "You're not ready. Not yet. But we're getting there."
He stood, walked over to his usual spot beneath the larger tree, and sat down with a sigh.
His thoughts swirled.
They were still weak — relatively. But if trained properly, this team could grow into something real. He wouldn't have to shoulder everything alone. They could help cover his blind spots, wear down stronger foes, protect each other during downtime.
> "Strength is necessary. But structure... structure makes strength sustainable."
For the first time in a long while, he felt a pull he hadn't expected — the beginnings of responsibility.
He wasn't just surviving anymore.
He was building.
---
That night, while the others slept, Auther sat by the fire, watching the flames curl and crackle. His thoughts returned to his Skill Creation ability — his most valuable weapon. But even with it, he had to be smart about where to invest.
F-rank skills were reaching their limit. If he wanted to remain ahead of threats and protect the people under him, he needed to prepare for higher-ranked confrontations.
He pulled up the system screen.
---
[Skill Creation Menu Opened]
SP Available: 64
---
He scrolled through his current list of drafts. Some were E-rank concepts he'd been refining for weeks. Others were scraps of half-formed ideas — too expensive, too unstable, or just not worth it… yet.
One draft blinked red.
He tapped it.
---
[Skill Draft – Essence Conversion Protocol]
Description: Converts ambient mana into one unit of skill point energy per 1000 units of condensed high-purity mana. Passive process. Does not function in mana-dead zones.
Rank: E9 | Projected Cost: 139 SP
---
He sighed.
> "Still too high. Even now."
He remembered the first time he'd drafted this concept — back when he barely had enough SP for a single F-rank skill. The projected cost back then was 170+. Now, thanks to refined wording and slight efficiency improvements, it had dropped.
But not enough.
Creating SP violated the system's intended structure. It wasn't supposed to happen — that's why even a basic version like this came with absurd costs.
Still…
"I'll keep working on it," he muttered. "Maybe when I hit E6 or E7, I'll have the breathing room."
For now, it was still a distant goal.
He closed the tab and turned his thoughts to something more immediate.
> "My next skill can't be flashy. It needs to be precise. Efficient. Something that multiplies value, not consumes it."
He opened a new draft.
---
[New Skill Draft Initiated]
Name: Combat Sync – Tier I
Rank: E1
Description: A passive skill that slightly enhances coordination and awareness during group battle. Allows minimal sharing of threat focus between linked allies. No verbal communication required. Range: 10 meters.
Projected Cost: 56 SP
---
"Perfect," he whispered.
A team skill — low-tier enough to afford, powerful enough to shift battle momentum.
And just like that, a direction had formed.
---
The next morning, Auther called the group to a new clearing, twice the size of their usual one.
Today's focus was team drills.
And coordination.
Because raw power only got you so far.
To survive the real threats out there — the dungeons, corrupted beasts, ancient relic guardians — they'd need to function as a single entity.
As a unit.
A team.
And Auther was determined to build one.
From the ground up.