《3001 Paths to Death - A Lite litRPG Looper》 1. The Dead Keep Dying Death was a real prick. And unlike all the other ninnies out there, I wasn¡¯t afraid to say it¡­ or at least think it out loud in the safe confines of my thoughts. For one, it was a cruel, uncaring crisis that no one avoided. Cultivators wasted their lives hungering for power¡ªchasing the illusive dream of immortality. They struggled and fought in vain. The fools could battle to their soul¡¯s content. My fight was finished. Selene¡¯s abyss. I could barely hold my head up. Tears filled my vision as smoke taunted my face. All around me, towering bloodwood trees burned, releasing scents of distress. As fire rained from their outstretched limbs, it boiled and melted the ground it touched. My vision blurred as trees came to life. The red golems hurled boulders at foreign beings with otherworldly faces and cultivators fighting for their lives. The haze of war cloaked the field. Light battled dark, ripping the power from the controlling hand. Darkness dispelled, mana poured out, and the Bloodwood Forest was torn apart. As ten lifeless beings walked away, death soaked the barren grounds once lush with life. In the end, death won. Death was power and devoured all¡­ But what did I know? I was just casual victim number one in this cruel fight, or was I number two? I still wasn¡¯t sure¡ªeven after a hundred cycles. I was the remaining survivor of the callous battle. The first to fall and the last to die. Too weak to be given the mercy of a fast death. Too weak to be noticed as alive. Not even death wanted me. Dying would be different this time. One hundred-one was my new lucky number. Unlike my previous deaths, where I struggled and flailed on my bloodwood pike in vain, this time, I was slightly more content with my post. Sure, the excruciating pain was still there; that hadn¡¯t changed. This time, however, I struggled less. My current theory was that being staked was like one of those mysterious quicksand scenarios. The more one struggled, the quicker one sank. The damned optimist in me swore the pain hurt less than what had become so uncomfortably familiar. So, maybe I was on the right path. I even survived thirty breaths longer. Which was quite a terrible feat. As I endured this miserable extended life, I noticed Squid¡¯s face reaching for me¡ªa terrible sight to behold. The foreign bipedal octopus wore a turquoise battle robe, shell pauldrons, and an inverted crown helm. His body laid five feet in front of me where he¡¯d fallen in battle. Never had my grave neighbor moved before. His long, bluish hands gripped into the muddy dirt. As Squids inched himself forward, his arm shook with great intensity. Inch by inch, the strange creature crawled closer. Unlike his strained arms, dragging legs, and broken body, his face tentacles flayed violently toward me. I¡¯d be running if I wasn¡¯t so staked on my property. Acting on gut instincts, I swatted his face tentacles away as any normal person would. I wasn¡¯t in the mood for this weird stuff. Despite my natural strength and high dexterity, I swatted unsuccessfully. Tenacious Tentacle wrapped his unnatural beard around my arms. The man-fish pulled his dead body to my dying self, covered me with the rest of his tentacles, and held me in an all-encompassing embrace. I hated it. I wanted to say I wasn¡¯t screaming. And proudly, I boasted I wasn¡¯t¡ªdenying any claims I couldn¡¯t. As if experiencing life on a pole several times wasn¡¯t enough, my face was now getting sucked or eaten by a human squid. It was teeth-grindingly painful. My mind flashed with bright lights. I gasped for air, only to choke on a mouth full of vile thick liquids. My limp hands reached for the nightmare that violated my last breaths of life. At first, I tried to pull the tentacles off. Then I threw punches that bounced off the rubbery squid man. When that didn¡¯t work, I clawed my nails into his flesh. Tickling his back would¡¯ve been more effective. I tried channeling my mana so I could ice-spike my way out of this madness. My plight was hopeless. Not even my deep bag of curses could dislodge the monster. Light pulsed in rapid flashes, growing brighter each time. I squeezed the squid as scorching pain raced through my body from thrashing on my pike. Then darkness. A black abyss surrounded me. I no longer felt any pain. In fact, there was almost a peaceful tint in the air. I¡¯d been doing a lot of dying lately. This wasn¡¯t dying. This was different. My body was in an ethereal state of being. I existed and didn¡¯t exist, present by not all there. What was the squid doing to me? His actions couldn¡¯t be moral. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°You humans¡­¡± A voice cracked the silence, booming in my ear. It was old, hollow, and had a strange accent that was not Helmish. ¡°... are such an inferior species.¡± ¡°What?¡± I asked into the void, with an accidental snap in my tone. I searched the darkness for the source and found only emptiness. I tried to reach out with my mana to catch a hint of energy. My attempt bore no fruit. ¡°No Flayen ever struggled to grasp the concept of recursion as much as you.¡± ¡°What?¡± The startling, loud voice behind me caused me to repeat myself. I turned to catch this so-called flayen. I looked up and down, finding nothing. A tingle ran down my back¡ªanother false alarm. No matter how fast I turned, I met emptiness, and yet all my senses tinged, warning me of the flayen¡¯s presence. Squids were so gross. Hardly even tasted good, and that was only if you had the right combination of sauces and a strong drink to chase it. ¡°Inferior and insufferable,¡± the mysterious calamari said, his voice haunting me once more. I didn¡¯t like this ghost and fought back the only way I could. ¡°Technically, I¡¯m an orc.¡± ¡°That does not matter.¡± Calamari dodged my verbal riposte. ¡°It doesn¡¯t.¡± I countered, cutting away the space he tried to create from the subject. Conversations were always an intense battle. In my earlier years, I fought hard to avoid them. I couldn¡¯t afford to do so now. ¡°Figured you¡¯d want your facts right if you¡¯re gonna profane an entire species.¡± Judging by the stupor, my crushing words won me an insignificant victory. I¡¯d take it, and now that I¡¯d claimed the high ground, I could go on the offense. I carefully calculated my question. ¡°What did you do to me?¡± ¡°I possessed you¡­ At least, I tried to.¡± Despite the flayen¡¯s waning pride, his clamored response shook my focus. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s what we¡¯re calling it? Gross.¡± I stumbled with my words and tried to recover. ¡°What happened? Tentacles lacked proper grip? Got cold feet? Didn¡¯t like what you see? Was it performance issues¡­¡± Cal clicked his tongue as if he were sighing. My last guess might¡¯ve hit a nerve. ¡°Where are you, anyway? Why can¡¯t I see you? I need to punch something.¡± ¡°I am dead, and so are you. At least you will be. We are in your mindscape¡ªsomething your inferior orc brain knows nothing about.¡± ¡°Listen, slimy sucker...¡± Not my best retort, sure. I was so far outside my realm of comfort that I had to rely on base impulses. ¡°It sounds like you can only belittle me because my inferior mind allows you to¡­ since you¡¯re dead.¡± ¡°You are on the last legs of life yourself.¡± ¡°Dying isn¡¯t dead, and I outlived you. Stop your self-aggrandizement, or be gone. As you noticed, I¡¯m busy dying here.¡± Based on perception, Tentacles eyed me with a squint. ¡°You are not the quiet, reserved lad you used to be,¡± he said. Did Squids know me? How? I guess we were kinda coffin brothers if we discounted the fact that neither of us were in a coffin¡ªas well as only one of us was dead. So maybe half-coffin brothers. Might be a stretch, but it was like what the blood-hungry zealots of Ao were always saying, ¡®Dying was uniting.¡¯ Was Squids a believer? ¡°Well, a hundred lives would change a man.¡± I wasn¡¯t a believer and bit back with snark. Oh, have I changed¡ªmore snark and more vocal. Dying birthed my inner cynic. No longer content with being a side character, a brilliant voice rose to triumph in an era of unreserved criticism¡ªas if it were the dying caterpillar¡¯s one last attempt at life not prone to crawl a¡ª ¡°Two hundred.¡± Calamari cuts my revelation short. ¡°It took a hundred deaths before you stopped passing out immediately. And calling it ¡®lives¡¯ is generous. You barely breathed on the stake with how much you squirmed.¡± The flayen had knowledge of my loops. Had Squids been involved the whole time, and I didn¡¯t notice before? I did last longer in this life than I ever had. Was squids the cause of the loops? There wasn¡¯t enough time to toil with the implications. I had my honor to defend. ¡°I was merely trying to break free of my cocoon.¡± ¡°What?¡± Squids asked. ¡°No, do not answer that. We are running out of time, and I have yet to make my offer.¡± ¡°What offer?¡± ¡°To live.¡± ¡°I refuse.¡± ¡°Too late.¡± Ao¡¯s bloody pits. ¡°That doesn¡¯t count as an offer.¡± ¡°I have already given you full authority over this recursion. I am sending you what memories that I can. Sir Kainoa¡ª¡± Squids didn¡¯t just know about my loops. Somehow, he knew who I was. Hearing my former name was almost the oddest part of this cycle. I buried that name five years ago in the same pit of betrayal where my old squad died. The name Kainoa died with them and I hadn¡¯t heard it since. It was a different life, a different time. Memories forgotten threatened to resurface and haunt the peace I¡¯d fought to establish. I pushed the past away, returning to the battle with my new tormenter. ¡°¡ªI am giving you an incredible opportunity. Do not squander it. Please, be nice to my people. They are coming, and you will need their help.¡± Cryptic Cal lands his final blow, layering it with mystery and subterfuge. Before I found ground to respond, the uncomfortable sensation vanished from my mind. Not even a goodbye or anything. All Tenty left me was a painful headache and blurry vision. Comforting. Familiar. Selene¡¯s sweet abyss¡­ I was finally dying. Life was back to normal. Silly me. Everyone knew prime numbers couldn¡¯t be lucky. One hundred-two¡ªnow that was a lucky number¡ªsexy, even. Or was it two hundred-two? That felt pretty lucky as well. Life faded. I breathed my last breath. ¡°Hello, death.¡± I welcomed the prickly end to all things and clenched my body to prepare for another terrible life. 2. Hello Death My Old Friend I didn¡¯t die. Doubt and disbelief enveloped me in a hazy miasma¡ªa messy state of being that made no sense. None of this made any sense, and I was long past the questioning stage. Selene¡¯s sweet abyss, if I wasn¡¯t so stubborn, I¡¯d been two phases past doubt, too. No, not stubbornness; that wasn¡¯t the right word. It¡¯d come to me. I knew it would. I just wasn¡¯t sure when. Arrogance¡­ pride? No, those couldn¡¯t be it. The word danced at the ti¡ª ¡°Are you done with your meandering thoughts?¡± A familiar voice asked from beyond the veil. ¡°Yes, I am dead. This is the memory fragment I left with you. Consider it my gift and curse. So, can we begin?¡± ¡°Begin what?¡± No, I didn¡¯t feel silly asking the voice from the abyss what it was talking about. So, I wasn¡¯t past the stage of questioning. I blamed that on Squids, though. ¡°Training.¡± ¡°How can you train me? You¡¯re dead. How¡¯re we even talking?¡± ¡°We are not talking. I am dead, as you pointed out. This conversation was all scripted. I got... comfortable in your mind, ran scenarios, and then left you an extensive library of information. Based on this line of conversation, my readings were correct.¡± ¡°I feel violated.¡± ¡°As do I. Humans are disgusting. I can not believe the things you do to each other. And you do it for pleasure.¡± ¡°Again¡­¡± ¡°Not human. I know, and I knew you were going to say that. So here we are. The gift of a god is at your disposal, and you are wasting time.¡± I¡¯d argue we were rushing into things. I wanted to question everything; more than that, I wanted to defy this parasite¡ªto kick against the prick. Regardless, I held my tongue and resisted the urge to belittle a self-proclaimed god. What did I have to lose? Some pride, but I was hardly the proud type. People needed to be successful to be proud. I was middling at best, and that was because I was failing at well¡­ failure. Despite my futile efforts, for the last few years, life had smiled kindly upon me. I had friends, a home, and my business. That was before all the murder in the woods. Now my friends were dead, and I couldn¡¯t join them. My choices were to go along with the schemes of a belittling ¡®god¡¯ or resist and continue to die on my faithless stake. I was tired of surviving. More than that, deep down, an unwelcome seed sprouted. ¡°Alright, Tentacles, I¡¯m open to some training,¡± I said, with a patched mask of resolve. As Moloki always said, ¡®It¡¯s best to wade into trenches head first.¡¯ He died in a trench buried under the might of mana¡ªas did the rest of my old squad. I dispelled my resurging memory once more before my mask slipped further. I hated death and how it messed with my thoughts. Death and squids were both on my disgruntled list. ¡°Ex-cellent,¡± Calamari said. The extra emphasis on the first syllable didn¡¯t go unnoticed. ¡°Now, stop resisting me with your mind. I am going to expand it.¡± ¡°What?¡± Cal¡¯s words didn¡¯t sit right. ¡°Wait¡­ no.¡± My resolve shattered. ¡°First, you need to relax,¡± Tenty said in his low-guttural voice that had a hint of eagerness. The hairs on the back of my neck raised at the thought of Tents grinning in ecstasy, anticipating access to my mind. ¡°That¡¯s not helping.¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Get comfortable.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t. I won¡¯t.¡± ¡°If you do not relax, I can not begin.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the point. I don¡¯t want you messing with my mind. Find another way.¡± ¡°Take a deep breath and calm down.¡± My breaths were short, shallow, and ragged. I wasn¡¯t calm¡ªI was anything but calm. As far as I was concerned, I¡¯d never entertain Squid¡¯s whims. I waited for what felt like ages for Squids to ¡®train¡¯ me in a less pervasive way. Each passing minute whittled my resistance. I found myself trapped in an empty state with no way out but to relax. I squirmed under the false pretense that I could find comfort. I couldn¡¯t. It hurt. I sighed, which also hurt, and stopped trying to get comfortable. The lack of effort, or probably more so the lack of movement, allowed me to return to the painful contentment I was at before. I held back a sigh of relief and¡ª ¡°I meant your mind,¡± Tenty said. ¡°Relax and ease your mind. Allow yourself to be open to new ideas. Stop putting up walls. Doubt, hesitation, fear¡­ push them aside. You are safe. Your mind is safe.¡± ¡°You need to stop talking.¡± We might be coffin brothers, but Squids pushed it too far. I didn¡¯t feel safe. ¡°I will guide you to enlightenment.¡± ¡°You¡¯re making it worse.¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± Tentacles said after a pause. ¡°You know what to do. I will be here waiting for you to consent to my power. Prepare your mind for the fulness of my glory.¡± Tentacles was cracked. I was absolutely sure of it. To think I was supposed to open myself up to him¡­ well, the reservations I no longer held came rushing back. There was no way I could relax now. It took a couple more deaths before I could put my mind at ease. No outcome could be worse than what I was already experiencing. I had to forget pike and parasite, dispelling all the fear and hesitation from my mind, and put my faith in a hopeful future. Watering seeds of hope was a perilous game played by people who like getting hurt and the brave. I was neither. However, I reigned in my fear and hesitation and faded out of consciousness.
I woke up in an empty space of soft white walls, ceiling, and floor. The light created no shadows nor reflected off any of the barren walls. No matter where I looked in the enclosed room, I couldn¡¯t find the source of the light. Also not present in the empty room were pikes; beyond that, there was no death here. In fact, I couldn¡¯t sense any mana, which was peculiar. Mana was always prevalent. Death, mana, and power¡ªthe trinity of what was and always would be. Yet, here in this room, all three were absent. Did I finally reach the abyss? For the first time in what felt like years, I stretched without feeling excruciating pain. Even breathing was a euphoric experience. I was finally free from pain and torment. I let out a chuckle. The chuckle turned to laughter, laughter turned to weeping, and weeping ended with a soft smile. I took my time stretching, checking my body to ensure it still functioned. The simple exercise was an essential practice of body cultivation. More than that, it just felt good to move again. After I completed my stretches, I walked around the confined space and focused on my mind and spirit. Even though I couldn¡¯t access any mana, my soul remained intact. More relief flooded through me. Water mana was still bound to my soul. If I could break free of this room¡­ I grimaced at the thought. Could one even escape hell? Was this even hell? I didn¡¯t feel like I was dead dead, but I certainly wasn¡¯t on the spike¡­ or was I? Tentacles had a way of messing with my thoughts. He called it a mindscape. I came to the conclusion that I was either dead or wasn¡¯t. If I wasn¡¯t dead, I might have another chance at life. A seed of hope began to blossom. Before I could nourish the thought, warnings of despair drowned it. A hollow armor that once protected me beckoned me to adorn it once more. It offered safety and comfort. I knew the warning spoke the truth, and its offer enticed me. However, I wanted more than to live in an empty state. I didn¡¯t want to just exist. I wanted to live. But what life would I have? All that I wanted was dead. No. If I could survive, maybe my friends could as well. I scoured the room lit by no light, like a man crawling through the desert searching for salvation. I searched every part of the room, high and low, looking for a way out. Hours passed. I found no solution. I called Tentacles several times and received no answer. If this was a puzzle, I failed to solve it. More time passed, and then the room collapsed. Confronted by harrowing pain, I gasped. Ao¡¯s bloody damn pits. I was back on the pike. So it wasn¡¯t the abyss. I sighed in relief. Then I died. When the cycle¡­ no, Tenty called it a recursion. When the recursion began again, instead of gasping in pain from my spike, I found myself back in the prison of my mind. I died three more times. My walls remained apathetic. 3. The Test of Time At the start of my fourth mind prison loop I didn¡¯t bother examining the blank space of my mind I seemed to be trapped in. I searched all of it during the last recursions. Instead, I walked straight to the wall before me and started punching. I was a level nine cultivator. I ranked above the average cultivator and was considered a squire¡ªa professional. Technique honed my strength, and the blood of my orc ancestors gave me power. I whipped my fist through the air and smashed it into the wall with all my strength. A punch capable of cracking boulders smashed the wall in silence. No sound echoed from the impact, not even a hollow thud. Pain didn¡¯t register in my fist, nor did any reverberation in my bones or arm. My fist struck the wall, but it felt like I punched nothing. I punched again and again. I didn¡¯t know what else to do or how to escape my mindscape, so I punched into nothing. When I died and returned to the blank space of my mind prison, I picked a different wall and punched some more. It wasn¡¯t my proudest moment. I wasn¡¯t even sure I wanted to escape my prison. The unfeeling wall stood before me, so it became the target of all I no longer wanted to feel. Perhaps this hollow space frustrated me because it was no longer obtainable. I tried. For years, I sought emptiness. Then, a ray of sun entered my life, and I discovered warmth. I tried to avoid it at first, crawling into a hole to hide away. The sun shined anyway and found me in the darkest pits. I smothered that light when I led us into this infernal forest where monsters fought. We were ants among giants. Each time life brought me back, I watched my friends die until the details stained my memory. First, it was Sasha who suffered the same earth impalement as me. Rocky obliterated into a puff of mana. Flint froze and shattered. Flames engulfed Lana¡ªa sight not even closed eyes spared me from witnessing. As she burned, the world darkened. The harrowing scene repeated over a hundred times for me. Each life, I tried to grow indifferent. I reached for numbness, finding solace only in death. Calluses grew with each iteration, but the pain was always prevalent. Even in my darkest hours, the sun continued to shine. I hated the light for its lasting embrace, and I hated myself for not being able to embrace it back. How could I embrace the light? I didn¡¯t deserve it. Time slipped away in the room of empty light. I cursed the emptiness. If I couldn¡¯t be numb like it, the room would endure my wrath until my anger tempered. If this was a test, I had truly failed. I didn¡¯t care. I kept punching¡ªwall after wall, life after death. The only solace I found in the prison of my mind was my recursion no longer started on the pike. When I died, a black abyss swallowed me, and I¡¯d wake up in this damned state. I either ran out of walls to punch or reasons. My fists no longer formed. I surrendered to the solitude and wept. Time worked a number on one¡¯s soul if one allowed it. In this room, time unraveled mine. I collected the broken parts only for them to slip from inadequate hands. Still, I tried to catch every part of myself that fell to the floor. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. In the struggle to piece myself together, I learned I wasn¡¯t angry at the space for its hollowness nor that it was unattainable. Despite the pain embedded in my soul, I feared the emptiness consuming me. It was so easy to exist in a hollow state. Peaceful. Safe. However, swallowed in the black abyss, a sliver of light still burned within my heart, battling despair. I could feel Lana¡¯s warmth as long as I kept that ember alive. As long as the warmth remained, I¡¯d never be empty. In the silent solitude, my anger faded, sadness dissipated, and fear melted. I clutched onto hope. If I survived, so could they. I found new solace in the thought and dedicated myself to a fool¡¯s hope. Death claimed my friends, but life preserved me. ¡®Live for them;¡¯ became my mantra. I would escape from this prison and then save my friends. Whatever Tents did to me, he¡¯d given me a chance. That was all I needed. I walked to one wall, turned my back, and sat. My apathetic enemy became my support as I dived into meditation. I had no answers for this mindscape. All I could do was reflect. I replayed the disastrous day in my thoughts. With no success, I delved even deeper. Countless thoughts focused on Tenty and everything he said to me. I recalled our conversation over and over. Stop resisting me with your mind¡­ If you do not relax, I can not begin. Take a deep breath and calm down¡­ Ease your mind. Allow yourself to be open to new ideas. Stop putting up walls. Doubt, hesitation, fear¡­ push them aside. You are safe. Your mind is safe. I will guide you to enlightenment¡­ Prepare yourself for the fullness of my glory. The conversation wasn¡¯t helpful. I turned my focus further inward and examined the pathways of my mind, hoping to find an answer there. These paths were essential for mind cultivation. Survival was the mind¡¯s inherent need to live. Intelligence was the mind¡¯s purpose. Wisdom was the mind¡¯s armor. To reach the rank of squire, I had cultivated the paths of survival and wisdom, gaining three levels in survival and two in wisdom. I already had one level of intelligence. Every three levels cultivated added another layer to the soul, allowing the mana bound inside to expand. I expected to see three layers of my soul¡ªthree levels of body and six levels of mind. My soul, indeed, had three layers filled with water mana. However, a new layer wrapped my core as well. The fourth layer doubled the size of my soul. It was massive. When did I gain three more levels? In all of my deaths, there had never been enough time to train, and I¡¯d done nothing for my progression in the prison of my mind. There was no denying my core had expanded, and if I cultivated in a mana-rich environment, I¡¯d break through to the rank of knight, becoming an apex lancer. However, there was no mana in this cage. Reaching the rank of knight didn¡¯t matter at the moment. I¡¯d gained three new levels without realizing it. The closer I inspected my mind, the clearer it became. Each of my mental pathways¡ªwisdom, intelligence, and survival¡ªhad three levels. How? When? Squids must¡¯ve tampered with my mind somehow. I dived deeper into the depths of my mind, exploring every crack, cavity, and expanse¡ªliving through memories and experiencing love, joy, sadness, fear, and pain. I wanted to stop several times. The moments became real again. It hurt. Damn, it hurt. I pushed through the pain anyway and kept searching. The answer was somewhere in my mindscape Somewhere, somehow, I¡¯d find a way to escape this abyss. I just had to keep looking. For an unknown amount of time, I waded through light. When I reached the end of the light, I crawled through endless darkness. In the deep void of my mind, I found what I was looking for. I crawled in the darkness toward a distant white box. 4. Slowdance on the Inside The box did not glow; it wasn¡¯t a light, and darkness did not recede. It was just there. The closer I got to the box, the more I understood what I was seeing, which made me more clueless about what was happening. The box grew in size. First, it was the size of a stone. Then, it was as high as my hip. Judging by its current size, I had a way to go. My pace quickened. I no longer crawled; I jumped through space. As I closed the distance with each leap, the box quickly grew to my size. It grew taller and taller, becoming the size of a room, and finally, when I arrived, my box was the size of a house. I looked through the semi-transparent walls and saw a man resting against a wall. His eyelids fluttered, and beads of sweat dripped to the floor. If I could get into the box, maybe I could use the puddle of mana. However, the way back was far, and I had just arrived. I rested my hand on the smooth wall, and as I felt around, my hand slid across the glossy surface. I walked around the entire box, inspecting it thoroughly. The building was like a large block of ice. Even the temperature radiating from it was cold¡ªa sensation I hadn¡¯t experienced in a long time. Even now, the coldness was faint. I strategized ways to enter the box and then started punching. My frustration might not have been as tempered as I thought. My punches snapped with a hard impact. The box didn¡¯t budge. Each blow I delivered had no effect, and I found myself once again punching into nothing. I continued to hammer at the unbreakable barrier with my fists. It took longer than I was proud to admit to calm down. Once I did, I no longer paid attention to the prison. Instead, I walked to the other side, where the lonely resident rested his back against the wall. I finally got a good look at the man inside. The man wore shredded armor, and there was a gaping hole in his chest plate in the front and back. I could see his muscular chest and back through the hole. His dark tan skin displayed several large scars. There was no evidence of the spike that had impaled him. He had short trimmed hair on the sides and longer on top. It waved and curled into its own style. His broad shoulders were relaxed, and his arms rested on tucked knees. The prisoner¡¯s eyelids continued to flutter as he breathed deep in a rhythmic pattern. Unlike his bronze skin, his face was pale. Deathly pale. Instinctively, I reached out to my face, checking my forehead and cheeks for temperature. I felt nothing unusual. The prisoner was weak. His body looked crumpled and broken. As soon as he broke his trance, he would die and end up back in the box. How long could he last like that? How long could I last? I was the prisoner, and yet I existed outside his prison. He was dying. I stood far from death¡¯s doorstep. We were the same and yet so distant¡ªseparated. I didn¡¯t need to be here. I could walk away from the box, and as long as the prisoner kept his trance, I would be free to live. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The realization struck me like a bolt of energy. The man inside the box was no prisoner; he was a sacrifice, and the box was not a prison but a means of preservation. As long as he remained in solitude, I could live. I sensed the tendrils of my salvation pulling me from this mindscape. I resisted the call, remaining with the liberator for a moment longer. ¡°Live for them,¡± I said to the man inside the wall in a reverent voice. My hand reached for his slumped shoulder and rested on the glass above his back. ¡°I will survive, and I will save them.¡± The promise lingered in the air, and as the words made their way to the prisoner, his shoulders slouched a little less. I examined my broken self. Instinctively, I knew I might not see him again, or at least not like this. I wanted to acknowledge and let him know his sacrifice would not be in vain, but I could not wake him. ¡°Thank you.¡± I gave him one last look and then opened my mind¡¯s eye. The tendrils pulled me from this chasm in my mind. I fluttered in the dark, flying toward a distant location. One I¡¯d never seen before.
I woke up standing in a puddle of water. My hand stretched out. Blue refreshing mana accumulated on my fingers. As I raised my head, the battlefield became clearer. Tenty laid on the ground next to my impaled body. His body and face sprawled from when he died. My old body was now frozen. The mana I sensed from the ice encasing it was my own. I looked over myself, not my dying frozen body on the pike, but the new body I inhabited. It was my mirage, an ice clone I created of myself and enhanced with mana. I thought my clone vanished when I was first skewered, our connection severed. I was wrong. Not only was my clone present, but it was now me, a vessel for my soul. Somehow, the tendrils I felt inside my mind pulled my soul into the clone... a transference of some type. Tenty was right. My mind had blown wide open. I couldn''t contain my smile and laughter. When my amazement wore off, I looked around for my friends. They had long since perished. I was not fast enough. Their deaths hit hard. A pit filled my stomach and grew when I thought of my excitement seconds ago. The taste of bile teased my mouth. I wasn¡¯t sure what would happen when I escaped my mind prison, but I wanted a chance. I thought I would have a chance. This was not good enough. ¡°No,¡± I said, rejecting this outcome. I needed to return sooner. I closed my eyes and, with my outstretched hand, connected to my mana freezing my dying body. I closed my hand, commanding the mana to crush. I woke up standing in a puddle of water. My hand stretched out. Blue refreshing mana accumulated on my fingers. As I raised my head, the battlefield became clearer. Tenty laid on the ground next to my impaled body. His body and face sprawled from when he died. My friends were still dead. I was not fast enough. ¡°No.¡± I needed to return sooner. I closed my eyes and, with my outstretched hand, connected to the mana, freezing my dying body. My hand closed as I commanded the mana to crush. They were still dead. ¡°No.¡± I closed my hand again¡­ ¡°No.¡± I needed to be faster. I stretched out my hand again¡­ ¡°Please,¡± I said in a muttered tone, begging for a better outcome. My hand stretched again¡­ ¡°Damn it. No.¡± My hand lingered. I wasn¡¯t getting any closer, but I could not accept this. I commanded the ice to crush. ¡°You can still save them.¡± I cut off the mana and looked for Tenty. I heard his voice clear as day to the right of me. I had so many questions I wanted to ask the faceless voice. One rose to the surface above all others. ¡°How?¡± ¡°How was anything accomplished?¡± I took a deep breath and reconciled myself for the deep waters ahead. To save my friends I needed more power. 5. The Path to Power Power didn¡¯t come easy. Those who sought after it either died or covered their hands in blood. The pathway forward would be no different for me. I inspected my friends¡¯ remains and then at myself. I would walk that pathway a thousand times for them¡­ for her. My eyes lingered on my ray of light. Call it cheesy or cliche. I didn¡¯t care. I could still feel her flame burning within my soul. Lana meant the world to me; I would do anything to save her. It was what the man in the ice wanted; that was why he willingly accepted his fate. ¡°So, how does this work?¡± I asked the memory fragment. ¡°It is complicated.¡± I couldn¡¯t see Squids, but I could sense his presence in my mind. He tethered himself to my soul. Creating soul bonds without compliance was a glaring red flag, not that I wasn¡¯t already concerned about the flayen. Unfortunately, I was still at a disadvantage here. Squids had information, and I didn¡¯t know how to force it out of him¡­ or if anything he said held truth. Stubbornly, I waited for more information. ¡°It was difficult to get the transference to work. Your mind was too weak when we started and needed to be expanded. As much as you protest against my presence, I am the reason you are free.¡± ¡°That¡¯s funny. You didn¡¯t seem to help me at all when I was trapped in the abyss.¡± ¡°How do you think you ranked up three levels? Squids asked rhetorically, in a matter-of-factly tone. ¡°I increased your intelligence and wisdom. I created the conditions to preserve your dying body. I brought you into your mindscape so that you could scrape by more than a few measly breaths of life. It was my tampering that allowed your soul to find a new host. I am the reason you no longer suffer on the pike. I am the reason for the loop and I am the reason you have any semblance of hope to save your friends.¡± I averted my gaze from my staked body and shifted my feet. Death mana lingered in the air. It was so dense, I could almost see the pale gray energy. I felt out of place, and it wasn¡¯t just because of my new body. As much as I wanted to claim that I was responsible for my new life, I knew Tenty was right. ¡°Why do I no longer return to the spike or my mindscape when I die?¡± I died a few times already in an attempt to return to my friends sooner. Each death brought me back to where I stood now, a few feet away from my iced body. ¡°The mind is more powerful than you give it credit. It has a way of¡ªcreating shorter paths to get to its end goal, for lack of better words. In your case, transference is the goal. For you, it feels immediate, there is much more to it than that, but all you need to know is that this is as fast as you can transfer at your current level. As long as you can keep your body alive, you can keep living. When it dies, you will be reset back to this spot.¡± ¡°How much more power do I need to transfer faster?¡± ¡°The power of mages.¡± ¡°You¡¯re telling me I need to touch the heavens?¡± I may be at the top of the lancer realm in terms of cultivation, but that was the lowest realm. Before I made it to the realm of mages I would need to pass the realms of templars and sages. And just as the lancer realm had several ranks, each of the others had their own ranks I would need to progress through, and between those ranks were several levels. Calamari chuckled. ¡°The heavens? No. You will live among the stars. You will be a star devourer.¡± I tried to imagine the path forward. Toppling mages sounded unrealistic. If Alderi¡¯s Population Records were accurate, less than two percent of all cultivators reached the realm of sages. Mages were a fraction of that percentage. To reach the top, I would have to swim through death¡­ the same as any mage. ¡°What happens when this body dies?¡± I motioned to my cloned body. Whether the motion helped, Cal seemed to understand. ¡°Souls transcend time. You will return to this time, but you will retain all your cultivation, including all of your essences. ¡°A devourer of stars¡­ So what happened to you?¡± ¡°In time, you will learn everything about me¡ªmy existence, people, purpose, and failures. For now, you need to focus on yourself. Before you can reach the heavens, you must climb mountains.¡± The presence of Tenty I felt in my mind dampened. ¡°Hey, you still there? I still have questions¡­ What about loops¡ªI mean recursions? Tents?¡± I kicked the dirt in response to the silence I received. Soggy¡¯s son of a goat. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. I remained skeptical of Tenty. For one, he was a bipedal octopus. I was pretty confident about my ocean knowledge; octopi weren¡¯t amphibious. They were strictly aquatic. Tenty and his people went against nature. If that didn¡¯t spell fishy¡­ The Deliverer be damned. I didn¡¯t know how to finish the expression. I butchered the start, and there was no recovery. The point was, Fishy was too responsive to be a memory fragment. That meant he lied to me from the start and withheld information. He dangled himself as bait and was dragging me along. So no, I wouldn¡¯t trust Tenty, but I also died in this spot two hundred times. Now, I was off the stake and staring at my frozen body. I didn¡¯t know what to believe, honestly. Cultivating was the only sensible thing to do. I was fully aware that I was cultivating in the blood of my friends. My own actions repulsed me. This graveyard was the last place I wanted to be. However, efficient cultivation of mana required two factors: an abundance of mana and seclusion. Dying had a way of changing perspectives. Was cultivating here wrong? Yes. Was it gross? Yeah. It smelled terrible, too. But there was also an absurd amount of mana lingering here¡ªdeath, water, life, light, and earth practically swirled in the air. It¡¯d be a waste to leave this power behind. Besides, if I didn¡¯t cultivate this mana, either spirit beasts or the forest would. The Bloodwoods were seventy miles away from the nearest town, Tom¡¯s Pond. The small farming village was under the ownership of a sage who had since passed away. Tom was an earth cultivator who spent a hundred years in service to the Alderi Empire. His son, Tommy, and a few family friends were now running the farm town. The pond, a small mountain lake, housed a rare fish known only to most avid anglers. No one traveled to Tom¡¯s Pond, and if they did, they didn¡¯t leave the pond; the insignificant town didn¡¯t even have a portal. Residents dared not explore the Bloodwoods because of the spirit beast. Though Tom may have been a sage, his son and the townsfolk were mere pages¡ªlow-ranking cultivators. My conditions were prime for cultivation. I had seclusion and I had an abundance of mana. Water cycled through my channels. The mana was cool, malleable, and refreshing. The light blue energy was also refreshing, and when I cycled it, I found myself in a passive state of mind. It was like a wave in the ocean; my only purpose was to be. I pictured a cozy chair; it reclined and supported the legs, arms, and head. I locked in the picture and willed the mana cycle inside me to conform to my thoughts. Water formed into the chair. I made a couple of adjustments and then froze the design. On my frozen throne, I cycled my mana, expanding it outside of my channels. Water circulated around me. I expanded the cyclone and increased the speed of its rotation. By creating a vacuum, I pulled the ambient mana toward me. The various manas collected into my funnel. I cycled them around me, stripping them of their essence and turning them into water. The process of refining mana depended on the energy bound to the cultivator¡¯s soul¡ªfire purified, earth eroded, air weathered, water corroded, darkness smothered, light amplified, life bonded, and death¡­ death just reaped. Night gave way to day, and day followed night. All the while, I maintained my focus on gathering and corroding mana. With the mana I had absorbed, my soul was at quarter capacity. Within three more days of cultivation, I¡¯d break through to the next rank¡ªbecoming a knight. My mind was single to the task. There was plenty of mana for me to gather. I just had to collect it.
My soul exploded with mana. I¡¯d collected enough water energy to break through my third layer, and now my fourth layer was being filled. I was officially a knight. Knights were the top-tier lancers. Empires heavily pursued them, trying to add them to their armies as captains. Guilds offered them immense bounties. Nobles sought after them to be their guards. Power coursed through my channels. I had a fundamental understanding of my bond with water. Upon achieving a new level in my cultivation of water mana, I gained profound insights that transformed my understanding and abilities: My ability to freeze water was based on my molecular empathy. I could empathize with water on a molecular level, allowing for precise manipulation of its state and properties. When I froze water, I changed the molecules from their natural flowing state to one of rest. Water had another state of hyper-activity. I formed an orb of water and increased the energy of the molecules. My orb boiled, and I could feel its need to expand. I allowed the water to claim its freedom, creating a cloud of steam. Just as I could manipulate ice, I could manipulate the steam. I whisked it around, added more mana, and then let it settle. My immediate surroundings were now covered in my steam cloud. I was confident I would find other practical uses for this. Water mana resonated with the energy of life itself. My power was not just about controlling water but harmonizing with the mana existing in all living beings. If I tapped into this resonance with life, I could use my mana to cleanse and heal wounds, even severe ones. Just as water adapted to its environment, my mana became inherently more adaptable. As I controlled my fog, I realized I¡¯d gained the ability to quickly and seamlessly alter the intensity and nature of my spells. With a thought, I turned my cloud into a wall of ice. I then shattered my wall into ice spears that pierced the ground. A breath later, my spears turned into a stream that flowed back to me. I let the water surround me and felt its invigorating connection to life. I was calm, energized, and in complete control of my power. I didn¡¯t have a domain yet. I would have to gain another three levels and break through another layer, becoming a templar, before I could harness that power. However, my stronger connection to water felt like I was now touching on that power. Every body of water was a source of knowledge and power, a living entity with which I can commune. Through this connection, I could sense imbalances in my immediate surroundings. It was quite obvious the surrounding mana was in flux from the battle. The forest hungered for the mana to settle so that it could feast and grow. At the edge of my awareness, I could sense another hungry presence. It was small compared to the forest but no less hungry. In fact, it was famished. I homed in on the unsuspecting predator and prepared for a feast. 6. The Prey The spiritual beast stalking me was no longer alone. There were seven of them, six of which were all bigger than the first. At first, I thought It was a blood reaper, but now I suspect it¡¯s a pack of wolfbears. My soul pulsed with mana as the energy cycled through my channels and pushed outward. Waves of translucent energy expanded as it grew, so did my connection with the Bloodwoods. Life was at a standstill in the forest. Lesser creatures sensed the danger and vanished into the safety of their homes. A wolfbear was neither wolf nor bear¡ªknowledge that I glanced from a book I read long ago was recalled. Wolfbears didn¡¯t even belong in the Canidae family. They were a family of their own¡ªHyaenidae. The dog-like creatures were as large as bears and hunted in packs like wolves. Except wolfbear didn¡¯t hunt in packs of seven to twelve predators. They hunted in packs of eighty to a hundred. The seven wolfbears I sensed were just the scouting party. Wolfbears were once the dominant species on the Agoria continent. Their population spanned the entirety of the landmass, and their packs claimed territories like humans. In the infancy of their rise to power, cultivators were not facing threats from outside nations but threats from the ever-feasting wolfbears. The struggle became less and less as cultivators reached greater heights. When the first templar in rank was reached by an Agorian, the war reached a turning point. Humanity feasted on the beasts and grew in power. Rule and order were created, and Agoria thrived. As the humans prospered, the wolfbears were pushed back to the brink of extinction. Only a small pocket of the beasts remain¡ªhere in the Bloodwoods, where the mana and habitat can sustain the large hunting packs, and as domesticated beasts, the powerful and wealthy feasted upon¡ªbeefbears. I had thirty seconds before the hunters arrived. The scouts I was confident I could deal with. The remaining hunters, not so much. I couldn¡¯t flee. They would easily catch me, and I wasn¡¯t even sure I was their target. The mana was still thick with death here. The wolfbears knew that where there¡¯s death, there¡¯s food. If I run, they will devour the dead here, including the man frozen on his pike. That was an entirely different problem. I wasn¡¯t sure what I was going to do with my body while it was frozen and dying. Ideally, I would move it to someplace safe. I was kind of hoping I could leave it here for a while before I had to figure that out. Now, I doubted that was possible. That wasn¡¯t even an option at the moment. If I wanted this life to last, I needed to survive and needed to preserve the dying man. Twenty-five seconds before the scouts arrived. Time slowed to a crawl. I scanned the fresh graveyard for any advantage I could use. The battle of mages had devastated the landscape. What once was a small opening among massive trees was now a cleared field for hundreds of yards. After a devastating battle, earth and life cultivators typically used their mana to repair the damaged environment. That wasn¡¯t the case here. For whatever reason, the Alderi Emperor didn¡¯t care about the backlash of the battle. There would be nowhere for me or the wolfbears to hide. Perfect. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I spread the water from my palm around me, covering an area of thirty yards. Water touched the ground and turned into a slick sheet of ice. I continued to add layers to the ice field, increasing the layers near me. I had plenty of mana for the task, and my channels felt fresh. With my connection to the ice, I smoothed out each layer until I had a mound of ice. The dead and dying were now buried, and it was a bit uncanny to think I was standing on the hill of my tomb. I dispersed a thick fog to cover the area for the remaining ten seconds. The fog wouldn¡¯t help keep me hidden; it was intended to keep the ice hidden. As the fog rolled out, I covered myself and my immediate surroundings in a globe of thick ice¡ªa skill I rarely used as the party¡¯s scout. I heard the chatter of the seven spirit beasts before I saw them. It was an eerie sound of wild and untamed laughter, each cry provoking the next to be louder and higher. I felt a bit haunted in the gloom of my fog, and the moisture on my brow wasn¡¯t unnoticed. I can¡¯t recall the last time I felt the battle sweats. My stomach churned in anticipation, reminding me of my aching hunger. I¡¯ve gone three days without food before. I never felt intense pain like this before. This felt like it was more than three days. Instinctively, I thumbed the ring on my index finger. If it were an ordinary ring, this body I inhabited would not be wearing it. Lana''s gifts were not ordinary. The ring was bound not only to my body but also to my ice clone. My mana was directed into the ring, carrying my command to summon the bow stored inside. Like Lana¡¯s ring, Snowpiercer was a bow made for me. It was made from the finest wood of the elven kingdoms, Blackwood, and held an unnatural amount of runes that shaped the invested bow. The draw strength was as strong as a pure body cultivator¡¯s bow but not nearly as impossible to draw. Attuned to my mana, I could pull the string as if it had no resistance. Snowpiercer allowed me to shoot arrows of ice. The arrows could even pierce my barriers without my intervention. I held Snowpiercer firmly in my left hand. The weight of the gift felt extra heavy as I raised it. An ice arrow was summoned in my right hand. I closed my eyes, diving deeper into my connection to water and surroundings. My fog didn¡¯t blind me. I could sense everything. I knew this was just a taste of the power I would have once I broke through to the next rank of templar. That was a long way away. Still, the taste was sweet, and I hungered for more. I drew my arrow, held the tension for a breath, and fired. My ice arrow whistled through my barrier and fog as the first wolfbear entered my hunting ground. 7. The Predator My arrow of ice parted my barrier and cut through thick fog. A spirit beast, the size of a large bear, raced into my prepared field. It had a fuzzy head of a bear that looked like the mane of a lion. Its jaw was massive and open as it pushed out a rumbling growl. The body was covered in short fur and shaped like a dog with an exaggerated curved back that seemed to result from longer legs in the front than its back. The wolfbear tripped on the ice and slid head-first into my arrow. Its growls gurgled, whimpered, and then went silent as its frozen body slid away. Two more wolfbears ran onto my grounds. I fired at the closest one. It slipped, causing my shot to miss its head and pierce its shoulder. The injured beast lost all footing and slid down the incline, its body turning to ice. I fired two ice arrows at the agile wolfbear dancing on the ice. The first was dodged. The second impaled its side. The bear cried angrily as ice froze over it. The four remaining spirit beasts stepped into my zone simultaneously¡ªeach placed in my cardinal direction. Their laughter reached a new pitch. It was high, loud, and constant. I wanted to run. I needed to run. I was going to die here. I didn''t want to die. I couldn''t die. There had to be a way to escape. My shell wasn''t safe. It was collapsing. Run. Run. Run. I needed to just curl up and protect myself. The laughter grew louder. Kainoa! The sharp shout of my name pulled me from despair. This wasn''t good. The cries were pulling me back under, the wolfbears were getting closer, and now there were a dozen. I directed mana to my head and covered my ears in water. The laughter was muffled, but it wasn''t enough. I froze the water, further quieting the despairing cries. A band of ice connects my ear muffs atop my head, and another band circles my head. The muffs were secure, and I could get back to the fight. The four wolfbears were nearly at my dome. Their pace was slow and careful. They weren''t aware that I was no longer under their influence. Even as I raised my bow, they still slowly stalked forward. I didn''t need a full draw at this distance. I picked the furthest of the four away from me and released¡ªanother headshot. I turned to my next target. My nerves caused me to draw back further than needed, and the arrow fired with a humming fury. It slammed into the belly of the beast mid-cry. The power of the shot launched the wolf back into the air. Its frozen body crashed to the ground and shattered. My next two shots are more controlled but no less devastating to the spirit beast. I took a deep breath and quickly assessed my mana. I still had plenty to fight, and I had a feeling I was going to need it. The new beasts had thrown caution out the window and attempted to race up my hill to various degrees of success. A frozen bear slid down the icy terrain, then another, and another. It didn''t matter. I slew wolfbear after wolfbear. They kept coming. There were dozens of them dead now, and more than double were alive¡ªtrying to eat me. The intensity of their wails permeated my headband. Fortunately, the mana-enhanced headgear protects me from the terror effect. My head still ached from the endless noise, and it was getting harder to maintain focus. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. As the wolfbears piled toward me, I added more mana to the fog and the ice field. The predators could no longer maintain their footing and had to reduce their speed. On top of that, the thick fog was actively slowing them to a crawl. Their lethargy helped reduce the constant noise and gave me a small respite. I pressed my advantage and released a barrage of arrows. My increased tempo strained my aim and focus. I had to keep my breathing in check to avoid falling out of rhythm and waste the opportunity. For thirty seconds, I systematically located my targets, drew my arrow, aimed, and fired. At the peak of my barrage, I was shooting faster than an arrow a second. My whistling arrows became the song of battle¡ªa cold-frosty dirge of death. The largest beasts were my primary targets and also the easiest to hit. When they were killed, I focused on the fallen. Their fates were sealed to the earth. Then, I worked through the more menacing beasts. Death mana began to fill the air. I could feel it urging me to claim more lives, pushing me¡ªhungering for more. My hill was cleared, so I shot through my fog. I wasn''t as sure about my aim. It was hard to track on the other side. That didn''t stop me from shooting. The wolfbears wanted to eat me. I didn''t want to be eaten. So I kept shooting. It was that simple. After a few minutes of shooting through the abyss, I could no longer sense the pack. Though they had retreated, my gut was telling me they would return, and it would be a lot worse when they did. I considered my options. I could probably run now. I had enough time to recover my frozen body and pack it wherever I went. I could just leave my body under my mound of ice. That would probably buy me a week or two before my ice thawed and my body would be exposed. If whatever found my body wasn''t a powerful cultivator or spirit beast, I might have another week before the other layer of ice thawed. When that happened, I would die. Where would I go? I couldn''t go back home. Whoever sent us on this mission must''ve known what was happening. Their story was too contrived, and the location too precise for it to be a coincidence. That meant someone wanted us dead¡­ I didn''t know who. Lana was our contact with the quest giver. The quest giver that asked for us specifically knew too much about us. Home wasn''t safe. Even if it was, I had no heart to return there. Not without my family. I could run to another town, but for what purpose? I needed to get stronger, and there was only one direct way to power. Death and I were going to get a lot more acquainted¡ªmaybe even friendly. My mind was set. The Bloodwoods were my new training ground. The wolfbears and any other foul beast near me would be my feast. My decision made the following planning easier: I needed more protection, more mana, and food. The dead would provide two needs, and I''d provide the other. 8. The Frozen Palace I checked my pseudo domain for any threats. I was the only life inside my realm. I pushed my senses further out, relying on water''s connection to life to track outside my fog. I could not sense any spirit beasts within two miles. This was my chance to reap what I''ve sown. What are you doing? What do you mean, what am I doing? I''m doing what you said. I said get stronger. Can''t you see me hauling this chunk of meat up an ice mountain? It''s easily two hundred pounds. And this is my third trip. That doesn''t even include all of the cores I''ve collected. That was only sorta true. Instead of the task getting more challenging with each trip, it became easier. My connection with water allowed me to glide on the icy surface. I discovered if I invested energy on the soles of my feet I could use that to pull me across the surface. Water longed to connect with another source¡ªits nature was to gather. This would not have worked if it had just been a body of water. I would''ve sunk or, at the very best, stayed rooted. Ice was a bit different. Each crystal had its own structure. It was content to just be, to remain as is. I simply pictured an ice crystal ahead of me and commanded my mana-endowed feet to obey. I tripped more than once, and downhill was much easier than uphill, which took more convincing, mana, and willpower. I could not just picture the ice crystal. I had to know it was there and that my mana could become one with it. After trial and error, I developed a competent level of ice sliding. I wasn''t sure if the new skill would be practical in a fight yet¡ªmaybe if I was retreating. Realistically, it would take more practice and experience before I was comfortable mixing it into a fight. I wasn''t working on being a realist at the moment. If I could develop the skill now, it would add a new element to my fighting. I was already fast on my feet, but this would increase my movement by two or threefold. You are wasting your time. My new skill was evident enough that I wasn''t wasting time. Besides that, wasn''t time on my side? You''re just jealous because you won''t be feasting on spirit beasts. Gross. True¡­ spirit beasts weren''t exactly delicacies unless the chef had powerful cooking skills or the consumer was ravenous. I pride myself on being a little bit of both. Besides that, wolfbears are supposed to be the exception. Well¡­ the mana-modified beefbear version of the wolfbear is supposed to be tasty. That''s gotta mean this slab of beef is top-of-the-line fresh. You do not need to train your physical strength. I sensed an intense amount of frustration coming from Cal''s memory. You need to focus on your mental pathways. Your mind must be stronger. No. It''s not that I didn''t completely trust Calamari. It would be nice if I knew his real name and intentions or understood what he was doing in my mind. OK, I didn''t trust Cal. Possession without consent was a glaring red flag, and I could not shake my gut, feeling that the guy did not have my best interest at stake. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. What do you mean, no? I don''t want to follow the path of a wizard or sorcerer. This has nothing to do with pathways or classes. Tenty''s words slammed into my mind with the intensity of a banshee screaming. A sharp pain erupted behind my eyes. It caused me to lose focus on my ice crystal. I slowed from a fast sprint to a standstill and began slipping down the hill. As soon as I regained focus, I created a new anchor point. What the hell? Your mind is too weak, the squid chided. We need to reforge it and build more layers on it. I can not move forward until you have reached the ruler stages of mind cultivation. I''m buying us more time. I countered Tent''s words even though they messed with my mind. I was moving forward. No. You are skirting around on a playground of ice, pretending at power. Follow me, and I will show you how feeble your ''training'' attempts are. And how long do you suppose I will last in the ice before I die and have to start over? You will not last longer than five days. I can teach you deep meditation, which will slow down your death even further. We could double or even quadruple that time. Do you know what the body pathway will do for me? Flayens never disgraced themselves with such foul practices. We cultivate the mind; anything else is a perversion. So you don''t know about the endurance and strength path? My body will become as durable as steel and be able to regenerate health. The upgrades to my body could triple my time in the ice, and that is before I am able to reforge the essences. You will be wasting so much potential. I beg you to trust me. I will lead you to the stars. I will save you and your people. For what purposes? To save your people? When they come, will they be looking for peace, or will they be looking to rule? It was pretty clear from conversations the squid disdained my people. In his eyes, we were inferior. Arrogantly, I disagreed. If we were so weak, why was he dead? Why was he now relying on me? The truth of the matter was Calamari quit. He couldn''t accomplish whatever task he was sent to achieve, and he had the power of recursion backing him. He tried to accomplish things his way, with all his mind powers, and failed. According to him, my mind was already tainted¡­ I had already cultivated body essences. There was no way I would reach the level he was on. So why try to follow a path I can''t follow? A path that led to failure. I would''ve argued with Cal about all of this, but the squid split mid-conversation. It''s not like he had anywhere to go. He was in my mind. I''ve been there. It''s a dark void brimming with emptiness. The invader did save me during the fight, though. He called to me when I was caged in despair, breaking me out of the wolfbears'' trance. Trust was a silly thing. I reached the top of the hill shortly after the mental conversation ended. I placed my hand over the ice dome and created a door to walk through. I kept the door open as I made the rest of my preparations. My stomach was rumbling. I ached for nourishment. Even if I wanted to spend the rest of my life pursuing the path of the mind, I could not ignore my need to eat. I skated down the hill one last time and walked to the forest''s edge. The trees were much too large for me to use. It would take me hours of labor to cut down and process them. That was energy I didn''t have. My focus was on the ground. During the battle of mages these massive trees were used like ordinary weapons. They were thrown, speared, morphed, and exploded. There were bound to be remnants of the mighty battle trees left behind. 9. Becoming a Knight Thick clouds blanketed the night sky. My palace of ice glowed in the darkness on a hill of frozen death. The fire inside cracked in a random rhythm, attempting to soothe my soul. Instead, it bit at my back while I sat in passive cultivation. The remainder of my day, leading me to this moment, was delicious and uneventful. I cooked and ate a wolfbear steak. It was as tasty as the rumors suggested. The meat was tender and juicy, and the flavor was rich. It was so good I cooked up another two steaks and devoured them with the same culinary enthusiasm. Unfortunately, I had no supporting side dishes or a proper drink to accompany my fine meal. Still, eating the wolfbear was the peak of my excitement. The beasts never returned, and I have yet to sense or hear their presence. Maybe they thought night would give them an advantage. They might even be waiting for me to fall asleep. I didn''t feel safe enough to fall asleep or meditate¡ªthat left cultivation. Water coursed through my channels, pulling and purifying mana. The mana entered my cores, rolling like a gentle wave, ever pushing against its barriers. The more mana I added the more intense the pressure in my core became. It was vital that I shaped it and filled my new layer with mana if I wanted to grow. One thing I believed Tenty about was that I needed more power. The thought of pursuing power brought a sad smile, and I chuckled. I had stopped chasing power a long time ago. Power only led to pain and hurt. As a failing merchant, I was quite content as a high-rank rook. I''d been burned enough by the path. Then, a royal pain¡ª The fragmented glimpse of Lana entering my shack of a store brought back too much pain. I banished the memory and forced my focus elsewhere. I was now a knight-ranked lancer. A budding knight¡­ sure. It was still a tremendous feat, one that was usually cause for celebration. I was at the apex of the lancer stage. Being a knight wasn''t just a title. I felt powerful. My snow globe was thick and durable. I could freeze the ground several yards around me. My ice arrows were solid and potent¡ªnever had my glancing blows frozen enlightened beings so quickly. I could now traverse my ice fields with speed and ease. Summoned fog could conceal me. Before, my mana felt secondary to my skills. That was quickly changing as I grew more accustomed to my strength. I continued to passively cultivate as I looked over at my pile of dull-white cores and contemplated what to do with all fifty of them. If I was closer to a town I could use them for resources. Besides my bow, all my other gear was damaged. I was fighting in rags and had no physical weapon besides my bow. I could use some physical arrows or short swords. I wouldn''t be able to get much. The five thousand credits the cores allotted would only be enough for a couple pieces of armor for my rank. On the other hand, if I wanted to live an easy life, I could probably get by for a year if I was frugal. Combined with shop income, I could stretch it another three years. I cut the thought off, stopping it from dredging up memories and emotions unsuitable for my circumstances. The easy road was not one of my pathways. I could refine the cores and turn them into pills; they would be ingested and absorbed into my channels. However, that would take much more time and effort than it was worth. The surrounding mana from the battle was already providing more enrichment than all fifty of these cores combined, leaving me with a few options. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Cores were essential to powering runes. Flint always yammered on about how he could change the world if he had enough cores and time. The tinker spent more time scheming new ways to include the soul gems into his contraptions than he did anything else. As much as our party gave Flint a hard time for his obsession, there was no denying it was impactful. The few years I spent around had earned me some trade secrets. My favorite tinker craft was rune bombs. The secret about rune bombs was they were easy to make and devastating to use. The last detail was not much of a secret. I couldn''t make my bombs as intricate as the tinker. Flint had years of experience, and even then, he used Lana to enhance the runes further, empowering his scripts with light. He taught me a couple of scripts, which I could only manage due to years of map-making. Even then, my scripting was only ever passable. That was fine for my needs. A plan started forming as I thought about my next step. Before I could reach the next stage of cultivation, I needed to build a new layer of my soul. Calamari wanted me to pursue the mind path. I wasn''t sure I could go further down that path until I reforged my mind¡ªa process I knew very little about, and I didn''t trust my parasite for guidance. Spirit cultivation was also foreign to me. I tried to learn what I could about that pathway, but the nobles hoarded the knowledge like it was a secret cache of wealth. The scarcity of knowledge about spirit paths conveniently let the nobles charge an exorbitant amount of credits for their training. I wasn''t confident in my current knowledge to follow the spirit cultivation. The pathways of the body were agility, strength, and endurance. I''d already developed my agility to rank two. Much of that training came in my youth running through the Kuokoa''s forests, where I pretended to hunt beasts with¡ª Again, I suppressed memories of another life. They say time heals all. I was still waiting for time to fulfill its end of the bargain. I know my head was a mess. Suppress, forget, and move on¡­ that was my training, and that''s what I''ve known. Strength and endurance pathways were straightforward. Get strong. Get hurt. Survive. Then repeat. My one rank in strength was because of that very practice with a sword. Drill after tireless drill. Basic training as an Alderian conscripted could be summed up as swing, block, parry, and repeat. It wasn''t surprising the body pathways were known as ''the path of the people''. Anyone could cultivate the body. They just had to act. Hence, armies filled up to the brim with commoner classes¡ªwarriors, hunters, and berserkers. It took effort to suppress body pathways if one did not desire to follow that path. I would no longer be suppressing myself. I would no longer be suppressing mine. I left my ice palace one more time for the night to collect the needed supplies. I unthawed four frozen wolfbears and used a knife of ice to remove their pelts. The sharp blade and my practiced hands made short work of the task. I left the stripped bodies behind and glided back to my dome. Once inside, I laid out two hides, adding a soft carpet to my home. I created a poncho for protection from the third and used a bit of the fourth to make four crude pouches. Get strong, get hurt, survive¡ªsimple, effective cultivation. As twisted as it was, cultivators gained essences faster when they were killing. I had plenty of justification for my actions and recited them over in my mind while preparing. One by one, I scratched my scripts into the runes and added them to my pouches. When the wolfbears returned, I''d have pockets full of surprises for them. I claimed no high grounds tonight. 10. Body Cultivation The wolfbears were only common rank spirit beasts. Of the enlightened beings they were the least powerful rank. However, I wasn¡¯t convinced they¡¯d lose a fight against too many superior-ranked spirit beasts. The lowest rank of lancers, a page, would most likely be killed in a one-on-one battle. A skilled rook might be able to bring one down without injury, and a squire could probably kill a small pack. A week ago, I would have never dared to face the beasts out in the open. Of course, being in a recursion boosted my confidence a hundred times. If death was power, then I might as well get to dying. The mana wolfbears possessed contributed more to their physical prowess than anything else. It made them tough in a physical fight and susceptible to mana attacks. Their most significant advantages were their size and numbers. Besides a weak resistance to mana, their predictable nature was another glaring flaw. Leave out food, and they will come to the feast. It was a little past midnight when I heard the first call of the beast. The shrill laugh tore the peaceful night like a cracking whip. Ten seconds later, more beasts caught onto their secret inside joke. Growls accompanied their depraved cries. The night had turned to utter chaos in a matter of minutes. I remained silent in my snow globe. When I heard the first fit of laughter, I placed my wet pelts over the blazing flame. Smoke filled my safe haven, robbing me of precious air. I didn''t let the smoke ventilate. Instead, I added fuel to the smoldering flame, increasing the intensity. My eyes burned, and breathing was becoming painful. I inhaled my last and waited. The beasts were now feasting, and I was fuming. There was no more oxygen in my globe. The fickle coward of a flame starved out three minutes ago, abandoning me to my lonesome as smoke filled my home. After another three minutes, my ice box, like my lungs, was about to burst. I gritted through the pain for one more minute as I filled the outside air with a dense fog that hovered seven feet away from the ground. I wasn''t typically a schemer, but after a night of inhaling bloodwood, my mind got to thinking, and now I feel like a first-rate strategist. Sasha would''ve been proud. Down below, the feasting was coming to an end. My guests were furious, not that they were feeding on their own, but that there was not enough food to satiate the lust. The taste of blood was fresh in their mouths; the small appetizer was the fuze for their frenzy. They ran wildly below, searching for more. They didn''t care about the slick footing. They didn''t care about their clouded senses. They just wanted more. The frenzy turned to fight. The weakest of the pack were consumed in a ritual gorging that ended in heinous laughter. Amid the chaotic frenzy, I slipped a few pounds of meat outside my home. The scent of flesh was discovered, and the wild pack of wolfbears began to climb. My plan wasn''t perfect, and I was having regrets. Seconds felt like hours. I wanted to explode my home then and there. It took all my constraints to hold. One beast made it to the top, followed by another, and then another. I held off for a few more to join. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. I added more mana to my globe, building the surmounting pressure. I smashed my fist into the bursting dome, using my energy to command the ice to break. Shards shot into the wild pack, slicing and lacerating flesh. Smoke billowed and then spread out as it could not escape the thickness of my fog. I had to wait a few more painful seconds before I could inhale; even then, the air was tainted with my smoke, and instead of sweet relief, I was met with a bitter, painful swallow. My head ached, eyes watered, and lungs burned. I couldn''t see anything or hear above the laughing and wailing. All I had was my water sense to guide me. That was all I needed. I slid to the closest target. The wolfbear had ice piercing its leg and was coughing on the smoke-filled air. Experience told me to ignore the injured, battle lust begged me to strike. Lust won over. I swung my heavy sword in a downward cleave, separating the beast''s head from its body. My sword wasn''t ideal for combat; it was heavy and slow, but that was precisely what I intended. I skated to the next beast and capitalized on my momentum to cut straight through it while I moved on to the wolfbear behind it. I added a spin to generate more power and cut through that one as well. Strength was the equalizer for what my heavy sword lacked. No more spirit beasts were in my direct vicinity. A few were struggling to stand, and a couple died from the initial blast. I glided to the opposite side of my hill. A wolfbear barely phased by my ice blast locked me in its glare. I hurled an ice spike at the beast as I neared. The spike glanced off the beast. My throw wasn''t strong enough to pierce the thick hide. That didn''t stop the wolfbear from turning its head away for protection. When it turned its head back to me, it was met with another spike. A high-pitched howl escaped its mouth, and before it could recover, I''d already killed it and moved on to the beasts at its flank. Three spirit beasts take the place of the one I just killed. My momentum was gone. Smoke spread around me. My cover wasn''t going to arrive in time. The wolfbears lunged in a coordinated assault. I grabbed a rune core, filled it with mana, and threw it at my feet. I had to duck as a frozen wolf flew over my head and then lean to my right to avoid the outstretched claws of the other attacker. The wolfbear that flew over my head slammed to the ground, cracking the layer of ice and snapping its legs. As its legs slid in separate directions, the body plowed into several beasts reaching the summit. I was not as fortunate with the other two frozen beasts. They land on their sides, one sliding down the hill, the other remaining on top. My flash freeze was different from my piercing freeze. My arrows froze deep enough that unless an enlightened or awakened being had strong enough mana resistance, they would be frozen solid. Flash freezing froze the target solid on the surface. The victim would suffer some frostbite and would be frozen for a few seconds. They would ultimately thaw out in a matter of seconds. I guessed these low-ranking enlightened beasts would stay frozen for at least thirty seconds. I would have plenty of time to kill them... if I wasn''t already surrounded. 11. Dances with Wolfbears Seven massive beasts surrounded me. I miscalculated the incline of my mountain. And by that, I meant my guessing game was way off. I thought I would get maybe one or two bears a second at the top. Three at the most. There was no way seven could converge on me at once. I called cheating. Foul play bears. Foul play. The cheaters played to their advantage. Tempered by smoke, they''ve silenced their manic desire for feasting... No, that wasn''t it. My smoke screen was working. They knew my general vicinity but couldn''t locate me. So maybe they weren''t the cheaters I accused them of being. They heckled, growled, and coughed as they slowly made their way, closing their circle and my escape. I grab three more Freeze Bangs¡ªname pending¡ªand throw them around me. In a wave of exploding mana, the seven wolfbears froze. Thirty seconds. I discarded my claymore, freezing it to the back of my wolf pelt, and summoned a war hammer. Ice Breaker, though not a named weapon, earned its name for the one task at which it excelled. I lined up the closest chunk of ice and swung the hammer as hard as possible. Ice and frozen flesh shattered in a disgusting discard of death and violence. I added to the disturbing detritus with another mighty swing. There was no form to my attack. It was simple and destructive. See ice, smash ice. One by one, I hammered through the circle of beasts. By the time I was done, the bear I had frozen in my first bear bang¡­ bear blast had recovered and was charging me. I stood at the edge of the hill. All it took was a simple pull on ice to my left to whip me away from the beast''s charge. The silly beast swiped, missed, tripped, and slid down the mini-mountain, face-plowing ice. I had a moment of reprieve to summon Snowpiecer and shoot an arrow into the cowering monster''s hindquarters. The frozen, then thawed wolfbear froze once more, forever more. My poetic victory over Frosty the Bear was short-lived. Another wave of beasts was at my back and front. I prepared four more Freeze Bombs and threw them around me at my attackers. Ice Breaker was in my hand the next second, and I began my second round of smashing frozen beasts. The inglorious act left me breathless and heaving in pain. I slew ten beasts, only to have another dozen replace them. I could freeze them and repeat my massacre, but I needed to be more aggressive and take advantage of the smoke screen. A dozen bears converged on my location. I kept my presence small and slipped away. I sped down the hill, my feet being pulled by an anchor towards the bottom of my hill. Icebreaker was on my back, Snowpiercer was in my ring, and I held my unnamed ice claymore in a two-handed grip. Despite the iciness of everything, my palms were sweating. Damn the man. I freaking forgot to make myself gloves. All the prep time in the world, and I didn''t do the one thing I was supposed to do¡ªuse collected hides to make gloves. Hides collected¡­ yep. Smoke house smokey? Yup. Add carpet to a house about to get blown¡­ sure. Ice bombs, of course. Bear hide cloak¡­ absolutely. It was an essential fashion for slaughtering wolfbears. Make gloves so clammy hands don''t get clammy when sliding down a hill at fast speeds and need a good grip on your sword made of ice? Nope. Can''t be bothered. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The claymore froze to my hands, forcing me to trade dexterity for security. I slashed through the open mouth of a predator. The beast was dead, but the impact jolted my direction. I spun on the ice, and my back turned to the climbing beast. It took every bit of effort to keep my balance and control. I completed my turn as the next wolfbear struck. My target slipped, and I had to redirect my spinning backslash to land my attack. My rigid motion was graceless, and my blade was stuck in the dead beast''s back. I underestimated the thick muscles. I ripped the sword from my hands, leaving the corpse and blade behind. The sword was a silly idea that I blame entirely on internal fantasy. One day, I''d be a sword lord. It wouldn''t be today or, rather, tonight. My anchor was reset, pulling me across the hill instead of down. The pack of predators was too thick below, and I was confident I could last long. Instead of a sword, I created an ice lance and froze it to my grip. I raced across the ice hill at inhuman speeds. My lance lowered, and I skewered and discarded beast after beast. Some I could toss by flinging my lance; others required me to break my weapon and re-summon the tip. The ice was my killing ground, and I used every inch, navigating out of danger and into my enemies. My body was being pushed to the extreme. Even using mana for movement still required my effort to keep my center firm and balanced. My calves were on fire, and I had little movement out of my dead arms. My strength was improving. I''d be sore today, but I''d be stronger tomorrow. My biggest concern was mana fatigue. I had plenty of mana to burn, but my channels and core were wearing down. I would last the night, but not another day, at least not like this. The only light in the endless slaughter was that I was no longer the primary target of the spirit beasts. Some would engage if I got too close, but most settled for the free meals I left in my path. All things considered, this had been a productive night. I''d all but collapsed when the moon retired, and the sun started its shift. I push beyond the realm of exhaustion, spending the entire morning devoted to slaying. It was gross. I felt gross. No matter how many times I washed away the blood and gore, I never felt clean. One consolation from the endless fighting was that my channeled mana worked passively to heal me. The unexpected blessing came after I fought for hours with a nasty claw gash on my back. It was nothing like the instant healing power life cultivators had. I didn''t care. My back healed, and I might learn to heal faster in time. The wolfbears never stopped coming. It didn''t matter how many I killed; two or three seemed to take its place. It was unnatural. The Bloodwoods was a large forest¡­ sure. I didn''t see how it sustained such a large population of what I assumed to be the apex predator. Maybe they were omnivores in secret and were just trying to maintain an image. Pack mentality had a tendency to create that kind of chauvinistic culture. What better way to assert your dominance than eating your guest¡ªlike a cult, but more feral... or less... It depended on the cult. There was no denying the massive beasts'' display of dominance over what I once called my pseudo-domain. Some sprawled out on the ice bellied up, soaking in the warmth of a noon sun. Others were lapping up the melted ice mixed with pools of blood. Most were still eating the dead, which was becoming quite the problem and was a major kink in my plan. Consumption was a beast''s path to power. Consuming cores, in particular, increased their growth. Initially, I planned for this when I baited the monsters with the dead. I did not plan for the endless wave of beasts that would eventually ignore me in their pursuit of power. Offense and nervousness nipped at my pride. 12. Belly of the Beast Damn bears come to my house and ignore me? It was demoralizing, to say the least. If a beast is gonna eat me, I can kill it with little to no guilt. If a beast would not eat me and was enjoying a midday nap, how was I supposed to kill it? A spear to the heart, of course, but that did a number on the mind. Coward, greedy, and mongrel were just a few of the accusations I heard in the chanting laughter of the beasts. In a strange turn of events, I was completely ignored. The battle had turned from me skating to slaying to me searching and destroying. So it wasn''t much different, but it felt different, and that was important. Since I was ignored, I focused on the more significant threats: the beasts still eating. I knew my opponent was in trouble when I first saw it. I saw the wolfbear swallowing chunks of meat. It started to gag, and I thought it was choking. So I stepped in for the easy assist. My ax happened to get caught in the act of a back attack. The wolfbear folded its muscles and fur around my blade, and with an impressive act of bipedalism never displayed before by these beasts, it stood up. The power of the sudden stance ripped the ax and my attached hand along with my body toward its waiting paws. The bear swallowed me in the depths of its massive arms. My back was breaking, and my ribs were shredded. I couldn''t scream. My face was buried into the belly of the beast, and I was being suffocated. I didn''t know what finally killed me. I knew it was painful and that I hated it. When the foul deed was finished, I woke up in a puddle of water. My hand stretched out, and blue refreshing mana accumulated on my fingers. Tenty laid on the ground next to my impaled body. His arm was stretched out¡ªfallen from when he died. I averted my gaze from Sasha''s impaled corpse. Flint''s shattered pieces were harder to ignore as I scoured the ground for equipment. I needed weapons and protection. I could only get so far on my ice summons. I nearly fled when I stumbled upon a pile of ash. I knew that was where Lana died, but I still hovered near to check the source of a glimmer¡ªLight''s Edge. Somehow, it survived the intense fire. It was the weapon I needed. I couldn''t get myself to pick it up and nearly vomited when I tried. Fire, dirt, and ash were not potent enough to remove her scent. I backed away from the sword and the remains of my love. "I will save you," I said solemnly. "Just give me time." I gave myself a moment to recover and continued to search the grounds further away from my friends. There was some quality gear here. Which wasn''t surprising considering the battle that took place here. The Deliverer, the Emperor Mage of Alderi, was here, as was a host of his guards, the octopi people, and some mercenaries from a band I did not recognize. A rendezvous of big powers that ended in death and destruction. Most of the gear I found belonged to the mercenaries. It was a sizable group of twenty members. Their clothing and armor were no better than the rags that I was wearing. That was another mystery why my clothing was so tattered. My mirage was far enough from the battle that it shouldn''t have been damaged. The fact that it was still around was proof of its safety. I didn''t find dead Alderians, and the Octi apparently didn''t have more than the cloth robes they wore¡ªcloth robes that mainly were burned. My haul included a long sword of high steel enhanced with durability and sharpening scripts¡ªbasic upgrades that cost nearly ten thousand credits if you wanted the job done right. The scripting on the blade was nearly flawless; my guess is that the user paid double. The sword''s sheath was damaged, so I settled for a belt that I tucked the sword into. I also found a quiver in decent condition that was still filled with arrows. I didn''t bother inspecting the bow and equipped the quiver with an attached pauldron covering my shoulder. The pauldron was also made of high steel, and the mercenary band''s emblem was etched into it. The symbol was a sword shrouded in fire. I tried to access my wealth of knowledge on the emblem and came up short¡ªFire Blade¡­ Burning Blades¡­ Crimson Cutters? Fire could be crimson, right? That felt right. As I turned to leave, I spotted a hand covered in leather. The emblem must''ve distracted me from thoroughly searching the dead. I grabbed the dismembered hand and placed it against mine. The act was unnecessary; it was clear the gloved hand was smaller. Still, it was a nice glove; it had to be if it survived this disaster. My commitment to loot the dead was renewed as I searched for the body with the missing hand. The completion of the quest promised a great reward, a matching glove. "Why do you persist in wasting so much time?" I instinctively looked around for the speaker. Tents'' speaking was inconsistent. It was only in my mind, or he was talking like he was near me. That right there was evidence he was messing my mind. "This was your gift, wasn''t it?" If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "For you to squabble with the dead and play handsies?" The squid said mid-glove slip. The problem was I had no wrist to hold onto and was far too squeamish to reach my finger into the open hand. Even if the blood was dried, I didn''t want to change it. There are so many tiny bones in the palm. One of them could easily pierce my skin. That was an instant reset. So I delicately held on to the fingers and shimmied the glove off. I almost had enough flesh to grip before I was rightfully called out. "Well, he wasn''t going to need it anytime soon." I shook my head in disgust. "Dead joke. I know. I developed a nasty habit in my solo years." I extracted the glove and dropped the hand, heel-kicking it behind me to hide my dirty deed. I didn''t know if my parasite could see me, but I was feeling extra judged. That didn''t stop me from completing my quest. "Congratulations, you found the missing hand." "Glove," I said with a corrective tone. I didn''t know why Tents brought out all of my arrogance. Maybe it was the tentacles that I imagined fixed in a questioning shrug. "I know. No respectable swordsman wore gloves¡­ gauntlets maybe, but that''s different." "Dueling gloves." Squid''s response was quick and unexpected. "I said respectable." Damn. I couldn''t bite my tongue fast enough. "So why would you want gloves?" "I''m not a swordsman, and my sword was made of ice," I said, explaining everything and nothing at the same time. If Tents was picking up what I was throwing down, he''d understand. "It''s slippery when wet." Surely, he understood now. "You do not have the gift of time." Cal didn''t understand. "You only have a week, and then you will die if you can even make it that long." Harsh but fair. My track record has been astounding as of late. That didn''t matter. ''The tides turned to those that turned them,'' ¡ªor so they said. It just so happened that in a moment of pure inspiration, I spotted a mercenary I hadn''t yet inspected. I held my head high as I casually waded towards him. In my mind, I could hear the sloshing of steps as Tents reluctantly followed. "And then what?" I was nearly at the body, and I needed a good distraction. I slowed my steps. "You know exactly what. The same thing that has been happening. You come back to life to die again in another week." "The gift of time¡­" Tents forced a chuckle. My distraction landed. "It was not a gift. It was a curse. You will grow tired of these cycles. Life will lose meaning. You will experience emptiness and despair. Any happiness will be false and fleeting. In time, you will learn that time was not your friend and never was." I paused mid-glove snatching to consider the warning. "Is that why you gave up?" "I never had a chance." Our conversation lingered in silence. I wasn''t sure if I should prod out more information, act delicately, or complete my quest. My nature ruled out the first option, allowing the second to take place, and my hand was already committed to the task. It was more weird and wrong to be holding the corpse''s lone hand at this point. I snatched my reward from the claws of defeat just as Tents started to speak again. "The Monarch Stone was never meant for me. I was just Balthazar''s attendant. He was our champion. It made no sense that your emperor was here, and it made less sense that he was immune to our powers. Balthazar was a god among our people and died to a scourge like them." It took all my effort to keep my thoughts tamed and retorts silenced. My parasite was feeling things and I could respect it. I had enough sorrow that I tried to keep buried. I''d hate for someone to trudge up the memories and desecrate them with mockery. "I ingested the Monarch Stone, as Balthazar commanded with his dying thoughts. Your emperor might have anticipated our arrival but was clueless about our power. Still, I was a demon in your world. As I consumed the stone, my body was cut down. I tried to escape my death two hundred times. I lived thousands of years in that time. Each path always led to death." "So why did you bring me into this mess? I was content with my absolution." "I do not know." It was subtle, but I noticed a trace of deceit in his denial. Maybe it was how fast he responded or the cadence of his speech. It was drastically different from when he was sharing his story. "You should not have been caught in my recursions. The fact that you were remembering each death was an anomaly. For people whose existence was based on facts, truth, and knowledge, anomalies were either a blessing or a curse. I think in my moment of desperation, I looked to you for hope." There it was again¡ªsome more false honesty. Tents was dangerous. He was playing to my emotions and trying to dig up a desire to be needed¡­ to feel important¡­ to be a hero. He knew I wanted to save my friends, and he was pushing me to have the same feeling for his people. No, he wanted me to relate to his plight and feel the need to help. It was a good move. If he could help me save my friends, did I not owe it to him to try and help him save his? 13. Heart of Cultivation Cali was no longer with me conversationally, leaving me with much to chew on. He had a path for me, but I wasn''t following it. Like I decided back on the pike I was no longer a side character. I was the main hand, not a follower. Damn it. Did that make me the hero? The rotten urchin was turning my tide and messing with my mind. I shook my head a few times for clarity. It didn''t help. I had to actively focus on my new gloves to get out of my mind. The leather gloves were a nice pair. The leather was soft, durable, and grippy. I washed them off a few times and extracted the water before trying them on. The blasted gloves didn''t fit, and it wasn''t just a length problem that I could solve by nipping the tips. The width was too tight as well. I threw the gloves on the ground in disgust, feeling the betrayal stabbing deep into my heart. As the gloves stared at me contemptuously, I churned some crafty ideas. I picked the gloves back up, apologized for my irrational behavior, and promised to do better. In seconds, I''d broken down walls impeding my character growth. Soon, my butterfly¡­ That''s it. I needed to leave this place. I added more layers of ice to my cocoon, enough to give me a couple days of protection, tucked my gloves into my belt, and headed into the woods to clear my thoughts. What I really needed was a body of water. That was my new quest. I''ve traveled through these woods a few times now. Once while I was making up maps, another time as a guide, and the last time was on a guild assignment. The first two trips were the opposite of the last one¡ªpleasant and peaceful. Though there could be a fair argument about the company being insufferable during those trips. Still, as they said, "the luxury of reminiscing is the power to romanticize." However, they were a bunch of snobbish historians whom I often competed against in business. People either wanted to explore the past through books or discover the world with maps. Never both and absolutely not at the same time. I blamed historians for creating a past to which the future could never catch up. The Bloodwoods, I found, never suffered the problem that plagued history and reality. No matter how much the tales exaggerated the trees, they were always larger in person. It was humbling to walk at their bases. Their girth was no less impressive than the wolfbears, even that was not doing it justice. You could carve houses into the base of the trees. There were even rumors of hidden villages within this forest. I never found them during my excursions, though I never encountered wolfbears either. So who''s to say that wasn''t real. Probably historians¡­ What I found most fascinating about the forest was that massive trees maintained a delicate balance. They did not pull mana greedily and rob other flora of growth, nor did they overbear with the release of their own energy. They maintained a symbiotic relationship with the entire ecosystem. The world felt properly balanced here. Each piece of the forest had its place and purpose, all working together to grow¡ªnot just grow. The forest flourished. I walked a few more hours south, navigating hills as landmarks and recalling my memories to guide me. I turned east from Lone Rock and spotted the entrance to the hidden spring. The spring was the one area in the forest with a bit of overgrowth. Vines tangled with leaves and wove a natural barrier, hiding a pool of water. Even calling it an overgrowth was a stretch. The patterns of the weave looked like the work of an artisan. There were no tangles or snares, and it didn''t look out of place. There was just a natural wall of beautiful greenery; if you gently pushed past it, a paradise of crystal-clear water and bright flowers opened up in front of you. The spring was the Bloodwood''s reservoir of water. There were actually several pockets of pools like this throughout the forest. This one just happened to be the closest to me. The pockets were a balancing act of the forest. After water transpired through the trees, the high-reaching leaves would absorb some of the vapors, condensing and trickling back down. Water was shared through a connected root system and eventually stored in small pockets. These pockets hydrated the small flora that often never felt a drop of rain. It also served much of the fauna as well. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. It was no wonder the forest felt balanced. Water mana was every bit of existence as earth, light, and life. I pushed past the natural barrier, careful to not upset it, stripped down, and waded into the perfect water. One of the many perks of being attuned to water was near-perfect temperature regulation. I could live in an ice cave and never be cold. The heat of deserts never fazed me. Fire¡­ well, that still burned, but that was different. The point was that water was comfortable, and being engulfed in the pure spring of the Bloodwood was peak harmony. I floated in a state of emptiness until I was at peace with myself. When I felt calm, I opened my channels and began to cycle. I wasn''t here to absorb the mana. Instead, it was to refresh mine. I pulled my mana from my channels and let it mix and flow with the ambient energy of the spring. The nourishing mana flowed back into my body more pure and refined than when it left. I continued the exercise, further refining my mana and strengthening my soul. Cores and channels were like a muscle. The more you used them, the stronger they became. I was never among the elites of cultivators. To say I was passable was generous. I only managed to break through the initiate rank of page because I enlisted in the Alderi military like all youth of the Islands of Mauna. I was given pills, elixirs, and training. Though I was somewhat ashamed to admit it, I was carried by my squad and more so by my friend. Mana manipulation didn''t come naturally to me. At first, it was because of my frustration with my bound mana. I didn''t want water. I presumed it weak, lacking in utility, and having little benefit to my way of life. My parents couldn''t afford any techniques, manuals, or resources on how to use other elements, so when I was of age, the only option I had was the prevalent mana of the islands¡ªwater. When I was recruited into the Alderi Marines, I learned to hide and conceal my presence. My strength wasn''t high enough to throw ice shards that would deal any damage, and my control limited my chance of building new skills. I was carried by my connections to my squad and the fact that I was a decent ranger. I couldn''t throw ice missiles, but I could shoot arrows with the best of them, and my tracking and scouting were adept thanks to my training in wisdom and survival pathways. After separating from the Marines, I again became complacent with my cultivation. I had enough resources to build a small shop and get by on my skills. The path to power burned me out. Years as a map maker and part-time guide kindled a new desire for growth. That desire was recognized when I started working with Lana. My understanding of mana and cultivation began to flourish with a new purpose. Water was no longer just the element I had no choice to bind. It was the only element right for me. It was free, adaptable, powerful, and passive. It could be anything I wanted it to be. The skills I learned as a squire, ice dome, freeze flashes, and ice clone were thanks to the training I was given by my new friends. Essentially, I was a late bloomer in terms of cultivation. Even with my new-found passion for my bound element, as a squire, mana only enhanced my abilities. Water energy was never a primary weapon. It didn''t help that as a ranger, I wasn''t the ''powerhouse'' of my squad. I offered support, scouting, and backup. Rarely did I need to defend myself with ice barriers. Sometimes, I would end fights before they started with a well-placed shot, but that was only when strategy called for it. Dependability added to my mana reluctance. Ninety percent of the time, people could count on your mana to work. However, mana could be stripped from a cultivator in several ways: a dark-attuned cultivator with a silencing skill, muting rune, mana-deficit environment¡ªlike my ice cube of preservation or a cultivator with a domain strong enough to restrict others'' mana. It only took a few days as a knight to remove my reservations about relying on mana. Maybe my stronger connection to water allowed me to trust it more. Or perhaps it was a greater understanding of what I could accomplish if I mixed blue energy into my life. More realistically, it was knowing that failure did not have the lasting sting of death. I had the chance to fail as many times as I wanted. Tents wanted me to pursue his path to power, which he ultimately concluded was insufficient for his purposes. My path to power was going to be different. Most would call my path foolish. I didn''t care. My mind was made up. Like Bloodwood Forest, I¡¯d seek power through balance. Afterall, if failure wasn''t fatal, what would I lose? 14. Leveling with Trees The calm, refreshing spring of the bloodwoods cycled through my body, purifying my soul and repairing my body essences. The fourth layer of my core, the newest layer, was about a third full of water mana. I could''ve stayed back at the graveyard and continued to absorb the mana there, I figured it was best to break up iterations. After dying a couple hundred times on the same spike, I was due for some change in scenery. As I focused on the fourth layer of my soul, I reflected on the battle with the wolfbears. In my first fight as a knight, I used more mana than I ever had in all my prior fights. Not being able to rely on a squad was a huge difference-maker. That was the largest ice field I''d ever created, and I could add layers, turning it into a hill. That initially put a lot of strain on my soul. It was the equivalent of doing hundreds of push-ups for a pre-workout. The field was worth it for the advantage it gave me and the new movement skill I developed. Ice slide was gonna be a life-changing skill. The worst part about being a guide was walking. I declined most jobs because I didn''t have the feet to weather it. Once I master snowshoeing, I''ll never walk again. I''ll glide my way through life, passing all the walking suckers behind with a smile and a laugh. My summons were also better as a result of my expanded soul. Arrows were created in a split second, my swords were almost the quality of a weaponsmith, and I had enough flexibility to change my weapons on the slide¡ªspears, hammers, and axes were only a thought and push of mana away. Even my ice barrier was stronger and more durable. The thrill of learning and upgrading skills intoxicated me. For a moment, I let my mind wander down the infinite roads of possibility. Two skills I hoped to develop in the subsequent few cycles were ice armor and clone. I already had the skill to create a clone. It was by far the most complex ability I had. The ability involved three parts. First, I made the body of ice and invested a portion of my mana in it so it could function. The ice body was then anchored to an illusion of me that covered the entire clone. The addition of scripts and some extra mana made the mirage life-like. Once the host body was finished, the last step was giving it its sentience. I had to split my focus and allow a portion of it to control the ice body. The split focus took a large amount of training to develop. It was only possible due to the mind essences I previously cultivated. I hadn''t been able to split my mind since escaping my cube except for passive focus, which wouldn''t be strong enough to control a vessel. Before creating a new mirage, I needed to split my mind again. To do that, I always kept my active and passive mind busy. The passive mind was the key. If I could train the passive mind to become more active, I''d have a new split focus. Mind cultivation is a messy process, but if pursued properly, it could give cultivators a massive advantage¡ªthe same could be said for spirit and body paths. I''d have a powerful mind but miss out on two other essences. Planning to create a clone and being a clone led to a minor existential crisis. This body I possessed felt so much like me. Like I was myself. Yet it was made no differently than how I intend to make my next clone¡ªice, mana, illusions, and scripts. I couldn''t tell it apart from my original body; I felt pain, hunger, and emotions. I sweated when I ran through the forest. The spring water calmed and relaxed me. I could taste food and enjoy it. Everything signaled to my mind that this body was me. But it wasn''t my body; it wasn''t me. I was still dying on a pike. In a week or so, if I managed to survive that long, I would be forced to see the real me. Which wasn''t a problem, was it? My soul was inside my clone. Did that not make me whole? What if I couldn''t save myself and had to stay in this body to live? Could I accept that? Could Lana? If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Lana would probably have less of an issue with it than I would. She could create three clones. If she kept it to two, she''d have enough skill to cultivate with both of them¡ªincreasing her strength at twice the speed of a regular practitioner. Lana would understand, not only because she was familiar with clones but also because she was just accepting of people. Why else would she find interest in a mediocre map maker¡­ I found comfort in that thought and put my worries to ease. If Lana could accept me, I could accept me. Before any more heavy thoughts could surface, I changed my focus to the skill I''d probably learn before I managed to create another clone¡ªice armor. Ice armor was a skill I''d seen many water cultivators pull off during fights. It was always considered a top-tier protection skill in tournaments, duels, or wars. Ice armor was like having an ice dome permanently shielding the cultivator. The quality of the skill also meant that it was a prized technique. The knowledge of creating the armor was not shared freely. If one wanted to learn, one needed a generous water mentor or enough money to buy the technique manual. I never had a water mentor or a manual and wasn''t interested in learning about the protective technique then. I had no need for it. Now that I''d be fighting alone for a while, it felt appropriate to learn the technique. I wasn''t ready to leave the Bloodwoods yet. It still had everything I needed. My plan was to try to develop my own technique while I continued to fight and absorb mana. If I didn''t have the technique down by the time I was ready to leave, I would haul out a bunch of cores and pay for the manual. I''d just have to kill a lot of wolfbears. However, leaving the woods for a loop or two to gain the skill seemed a good idea, too. The ability would make body cultivation an easier path to walk down¡­ Things to consider. I didn''t have to commit to any plan. I just needed to get stronger. Besides the skills I gained on the last loop, I made good progress in training my body. Part of the reason I visited the spring was to aid in my physical recovery. During my fight, I improved my strength pathway by nearly a quarter. The gains were incredible, and it was all due to the slaughter on my ice hill. I could do push-ups all day for a month, and I would be lucky if I had managed a ten percent increase in the body pathway. I was always interested in the way the soul broke down progression. If I looked inward, I could see my soul in its entirety. It was a mix of mana, the essences I''d cultivated, and my channels. It was a beautiful mess that was hard to comprehend until you focused deeper on the energy. The mana inside presented itself as a core; some even said it looked like a record of stats. My ''core'' broke down into the layers I ranked up and had a record of the paths I ranked up in. It included skills I learned and perks I gained from pursuing a pathway. It even had my ranger classification recorded. It wasn''t words or text that I read on my core. Instead, impressions and images of information¡ªscraps of memory¡ªcreated my soul''s foundation. Some scholars believed that if you were to wipe one''s soul, you''d be wiping their entire identity. I wasn''t so sure about that, not that I considered myself a scholar, but it seemed there was much more to a person than their mana and how they gained their mana. My core showed me a readable summary of my cultivation, kept track of my current progress, and provided an endpoint. I could see fragments of a layer forming around my core. Each essence cultivated was like a stone being placed to create a new level. Once I had three levels, a foundation was formed, creating a new layer of my soul. Then, it was only a matter of breaking through my existing layers with a bounty of mana to gain my next rank. Conveniently, I already had a lake of mana waiting for me at every cycle. That meant I just needed to gain more levels. I reached deep into my water senses and tapped into my mana''s wide connection throughout the forest. I couldn''t cover the entire forest, but I could sense a large enough area that I could reach my restart. The forest was lifeless, but the predators hiding among the trees were not. They''d feast, we''d fight, and I''d gain levels. It was the quickest path to power. 15. The Beasts and Me I took a deep breath, allowing the complex blend of aromas to linger a moment longer. The sweet hint of wildflowers, mineral-infused water, luscious greenery, and the fragrant, nutty smell of the bloodwoods danced in a delicate balance that was as refreshing as intoxicating. I pulled back my mana, filling my channels and a little more than half of my core, careful not to take more than what I left behind. Like the rich aroma, my mana felt more vibrant than before. The same could be said for my muscles, which I stretched out methodically. Overall, my time in the Alderi regiments was terrible. The food was bland, housing was communal, and pay was non-existent. We had little freedom outside of command and less inside. Missions lasted months and ended in a battle that could''ve been handled with less fighting if preparations were taken seriously. For all the wealth the Alderi empire had, they seemed extra stingy on proper transportation. After fighting, we''d have a long walk back home. They called it patrol duty, everyone in the army knew they weren''t willing to pay the portal expenses. One benefit of being a regular was learning their various katas. The Alderians were known for their military power because their basic training was anything but basic. They had specialized training regimens for classes, mana types, fighting styles, and cultivation. Working on mind cultivation¡ªthere was a kata for that. Need to improve the body? Alderi had dozens of katas for that alone. If someone wanted to train with weapons, the empire had a system for them. It wasn''t that they had systems, either. Their katas were known as the best in the world. It was the military''s most considerable drawing power. They could train and develop cultivators'' skills far better than an individual could do independently. All it took was four years of devoted service. After four years as a regular and two as a marine, doing my daily katas was no different than waking up each morning. I worked through six: simple stretches, sword forms, muscle warm-ups, archery, mind rhythms, and spirit flows. The last two were usually done at night when I focused on those areas of cultivation. If I was being honest, though, I rarely focused on spirit flows. Once satisfied with my stretches, I worked through the four other physical katas and ended with another round of stretching. I must admit, between the spring, peaceful trees, and melodious chirping of birds, I was in a peak cultivating moment. My body felt healthy, my mind was relaxed, and my spirit was rejuvenated. I would stay in this small paradise for another week, at least, if I didn''t have pressing matters to attend to. Immediate issue number one, the diners were almost done dining and were destined to dash. Time demanded I make haste. I surged power through my body, pumping the energy faster than my heart. With the precision of a cartographer and the speed of a panther, I sprinted through the forest, navigating the trees and landmarks. My destination was mapped, and I was determined to arrive on time. Before my rise in rank, I could reach speeds of twenty miles per hour. I was roughly fifty percent faster. I needed to be quicker. I covered my feet in a thin layer of water and created a distant anchor. The anchor pulled each step forward, and I power glided through the woods. Step, pull, slide ¡ª it was almost like I had a rope I was pulling on. Trees whipped by. The rocks, roots, plants, and dirt didn''t deter my steps. With my traveling speed, I slid over the natural barriers with ease. Around seven miles, my thighs and calves were feeling the strain. I would have to spend a moment to recover them before I waded into battle. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Eleven minutes later, I reached the clearing. Despite the speed and distance, I was light of breath. My mana and channels were still fresh. The only recovery I needed was in my legs. As I stretched, I pumped water around them and let the hydrotherapy relax and recover my muscles. It took another minute of recovery before I felt fit to fight. The recovery was desperately needed. The wolfbears were no longer the simpletons they were in the previous life. These beasts had feasted on cultivators'' flesh and absorbed the rich mana. Like the monster that ended my last loop, the two dozen wolfbears were double in size. However, their evolution did not stop there. Sharp fangs jutted from the top and bottom of their wide mouths. Their fur was several inches thicker and had a black sheen to it. There was less laughter in their howls that rumbled the earth. Several of the beasts were lying on the ground in a post-feast nap. A small pack scoured the ground, lapping up any remaining scraps. Seven wolfbears gnawed and scratched at the ice, preserving my body. One side was whittled down, nearly exposing the flesh of my slightly stretched-out arm. Even though Cali was partially covered in my ice, like all other corpses, his body was devoured. From the cover of the woods, I watched the beast attack the ice barrier. By my estimates, I had at least thirty minutes before my ''life anchor'' would be in danger. A wiser person would use the time to plan and calculate. At times, I could be that kind of person. That was not this cycle. The beasts had ripened¡ªthey were no longer the common rank spirit beasts. They passed the rank of superior and were now grand rank. Their cores, if successfully harvested, would be worth a small fortune. I kept my presence minimal as I crept out into the clearing. My steps were light, my breathing even lighter. I was semi-crouched. I was confident I could sneak up on the sleeping beast if there was any cover. This graveyard was barren. The only memorial was my ice shrine, which only offered a temporary distraction. I held my breath as I approached the napping dogs. Their foul breath permeated the air, and I had to hold back my insides from forcing their way out. Their snores mixed with the growling chatter of the unsatiated predators, creating a cacophony of noises and smells most unpleasant to the senses. My hand tightened on the leather grip of my ice claymore. A beast in the middle of the slumbering pack raised an ear¡ªmy step scratched the ground instead of smoothly landing. I paused in my tracks, lowered my presence, and waited. The ears remained alert, but the head didn''t join and remained asleep. I was only ten steps away. As I took my next step, the light sleeper whimpered a sad cry louder than the choir of snoozers. Damn. My heart pounded, betraying me like the coward it always was. My thoughts were no better. Run. Run. Run. I kept cool on the outside and stepped closer. Three more steps, and I would be in range. The whimpering welp wasn''t finished. A ghost howl escaped its mouth. I stood in anticipation for the pack to awaken. My two hands held my sword out, ready for an attack. With each breath, I nearly choked on the tension. I wasn¡¯t an assassin. I was betrayed by the lure of an easy kill. It was foolish. One of the beasts raised its head, its nose raised high and sniffing. In my mind, I tried to pull back all of my scents, keeping them hidden. It was a feeble thought. The sniffer rested its head atop another prone body. Before I took the next step, I became keenly aware of watchful eyes. The sleepers were still sleeping and the ice lickers couldn¡¯t be bothered. It was the scavengers that found their missing morsel. 16. The Wasted Life Damnit. Shit. Damn foolish plans and the lack thereof. Walk into a pack of sleeping beasts and pay no attention to the beasts still trying to eat. Even if I wasn''t an assassin, this was poor ranger work. My only saving grace was no witness... and the greedy scavengers were not planning to share their new meal. The beasts'' growls were silent, and their tongues licked their blood-covered lips¡ªthe taste boosted their appetite. Their muscles strained in anticipation. It became too much for one giddy prowler. A cry of delight shattered our perverse, intimate moment. The laughter was met with growls of dissatisfaction. The beast next to the yapper nipped the culprit''s ear. The yapping got louder. Shit. The slumbering beasts no longer slept. The ice lickers abandoned their post. All twenty-four beasts were focused on me. My heart was pounding. My thoughts sang the chorus of a coward. The beat was wrong, and the lyrics were repetitive and a repeat of the previous verse. The message was clear. If this was any other life, I''d run. Bloody abyss, I wouldn''t be in this mess if this was any other life. I knew I couldn''t sneak up on the beasts. It was a suicide plan from the start. However, my life was not like any other, and it would be just as foolish to treat it as such. After all, what was life if it was not to waste? I would waste a thousand if I could stand at Lana''s side again. Impassioned by the thought of a fool, I abandoned my sneaky stance and squared up for a fight. Fluid power cycled through my channels. I harnessed my power and manifested an iced dome around me and the sleeping beasts. I was still vastly outnumbered in my shell. Before the trapped beasts could attack, I opened and fled from my shell, locking them in a snow globe prison. I reinforced the shell with more mana and then darted back to the forest. Turns out, the mind and heart curated passion. If they weren''t convinced, neither was I. Wolfbears hounded my back as I water anchored toward the forest. Their hot breath pressed on my back. I sensed their drool dripping to the ground, only to be torn apart by the claws ripping into it. The same claws hoping to rip into me. We were in a full sprint, the predators and the prey; the forest was growing closer but not at the rate of wolves. In a surge of force, a wall of water exploded behind me, becoming a barrier of ice. I heard the slams of heads crashing into my barrier but didn''t dare turn around. Not yet. I sprinted another fifteen yards and created a dome of ice that reached my wall. The stragglers weren''t phased by my blockade and navigated around the wall with the elegance of ever-sidestepping critters. My barrier formed a second too slow, trapping two of the clever side-steppers inside with me. I drew my frozen claymore with leather grips of holding from my back. The wolfbears worked together to divide my attention; one stalked to the left and the other to my right. The other beasts have recovered, though a couple are still severely shaken and are ripping into my dome. I reinforced my barricade with more mana as I danced with the beasts inside. The grand rank beasts were massive before. Trapped inside with me, they seem to double in size. I was unsure my bubble was big enough for us. The wolves were certain it wasn''t. Outside my dome, the wolfbears spread out in their hunting formation, simultaneously curbing my cowardice. I threw an ice spear at the wolf on my left. The spear strikes the beast''s face. It whimpered and snarled, losing only a moment of focus. The beast on my right used the opening of my throw to attack. It lunged in the air, mouth wide open, and fangs glaring at me. Its front legs spread wide with its claws unsheathed. I froze the ground as soon as the beast was airborne. With a lunge of my own, I slid beneath the pouncing predator and rammed my claymore into its belly. My sword, caught in the fur, flesh, and ribs of the beast, ripped from my hands, leaving me with a leather grip and no sword. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. I cursed my foolish craftsmanship. Cutting my slide short, I pulled back on a water anchor, and got to my feet. The skewered beast made a mess of my ice field with its vile blood. With my sword stuck in its belly, it couldn''t stand upright and struggled on its side, howling in anguish. If it were still a common rank beast, it''d be frozen. Now, my mana barely slowed the upgraded beast. Spearface, the only standing wolfbear in my dome, recovered from my initial spear throw only to slip on the ice. As it struggled to stand, I threw two more spears at it. Both hit the wolf directly, once to the side and once more to the face. Neither had the power to break the skin. I refined the next spear with a long and slender point. It was more delicate, but if I landed a direct hit, I was sure it would do some piercing. I lined up my throw as the beast shook off the second spear to the face and attacked. Spearface, confident in its thickness, didn''t waste its time dodging. It stood its ground and took the spear to the throat like a champion. To Spearnecks credit, my pointy stick didn''t slam through as deep as I thought it would, and only a few inches of the tip punched through. Still, any stick to the throat hurt, and extra damage was calculated if the stick was stuck in the throat. Between Swordbelly and Stickthroat, the sound inside the dome was horrendous. Gurgling, hacking, howling, growling, and still laughter¡ªwhich seemed entirely inappropriate. The beasts outside the dome were no different. They watched with callous hunger, drooling at the mouth to get a piece of the action. They would get their turn. I summoned a war pike and cautiously walked toward Stickthroat; it made the most unpleasant noises of the two and was a clear contender for victim number one. My strike hit quick and true, silencing the beast with one fell swing. Growling coming from Swordbelly turned to whimpering. It tried to crawl away but didn''t get far. I left the two beasts where they lay. Blood puddled and melted the ice below. I took a deep breath, calculating my next fight, and added more ice to the ground and my shell. A cloud of steam began to form inside. Before it could block my view from the outside, I selected my target and let the next fighter enter my cell. Brokenfang, a wolfbear named after the peculiar fang snapped at its girthy midpoint, had a psychotic whistle to its growl. Psychotic because it was clearly hurt, and yet it laughed and growled as it frantically bounced back and forth on the ice as if jumping gave it a better footing. The blood dripping from its face did the animal no favors in mental stability, nor did the jumping save it from my icey field. Brokenfang slipped, slamming its body on the ground with a thud. The beast couldn''t pull its legs back in to regain its footing, and I pelted it with several of my special piercing spears. It took eight hits to freeze the beast and three hits with my hammer to shatter it. My fog completely enveloped the inside of my dome, concealing me entirely from the outside. Confidence pooled to my side, growing by the minute. I opened the dome, letting two beasts in. One had an injury pulsing near its eye. The other was a masterful sidestepper who practiced not only agility but caution as well. The monsters stayed side by side, hugging my barrier. Though I stood near the two beasts, I didn''t feel the weight of their gaze upon me. Their first mistake was not sensing my presence when they entered, and their second was entering my dome. I stepped away from the false barrier the beast used for security and rammed my short spear into the back of the beast near me. Bloodeyes stiffened but couldn''t move. My spear severed a nerve, dealing a critical hit. Trepidsteps, true to character, stepped trepidly away from the wall and soon-to-be corpse Bloodeyes. I discovered in my mist if I applied a shroud of mana around me, I washed myself away from others'' perception. Or at least that was my theory at work. Although I remained at Trepidstep¡¯s side¡ªgiving enough space for Trepids to be within reach of my spear but not close enough to risk bumping into it¡ªthe beast couldn¡¯t sense me. Trepid kept its body low and prowled the perimeter. With every step I took, stalking the beast, my theory became a reality. Inside my shell, I was a ghost. I slayed the weary walker silently. As his body hit the ground, I opened the barrier for my next victim. 17. Ghost in a Shell It was a brutal battle for survival in my shell. I abandoned the stalking and stabbing for swinging and slaying. There was a lot more swinging than slaying. What I lacked in efficiency, I was making up for in gains. My arms burned from the strain. And while I had every advantage in the fight, the wolfbears were incredibly fierce fighters if given the chance. I didn''t plan to give them a chance, but my big and mighty sword was not nearly as sharp as needed to cut the thick fur. I''d cut, they''d swipe back. I dodged, and they pushed forward, only to lose me in my mist. The three-step dance continued until my partner could no longer stand. I''d end their life quickly, thank them for the battle, and then invite my next partner. It got a bit weird in my dome and very crowded with the dead. The killing floor got smaller, and I had to refine my weapon for the new stage. We were up close and personal. I delivered more strikes with my smaller blade and received a few injuries. One particular claw strike nearly severed my arm. That forced me into a full retreat, and I hid until my mana healed the wound. I was shocked to see that it fully recovered. The pessimist in me was sure I''d have to reset for it to be healed properly. Luckily, that wasn''t the case. I resumed the delicate dance with a newfound respect for Swiper, and we fought for several minutes before I could claim victory. The fight with the aggressive beast left me panting for air. Each gasp labored and tainted with the taste of iron. My lungs worked as hard as my heart pumped. I tried to control my breathing only to gag on the filmy wet residue I inhaled. I didn''t know how many beasts waited for me outside. Based on my senses, there were more than the ten or so grand rank beasts that I thought I had left. It didn''t matter. I needed out. I couldn''t breathe in any more of this bloody air. My barrier exploded into ice and mist. Shrapnel pierced the skin of weaker beasts, leaving the powerful unfazed. Mist filled the air, and I poured more mana into creating a large, dense fog. I still had my mana cloak, and as long as I kept my mist up, I''d be the hunter. I took in a couple large gasps of air, filling my lungs and heart. My head no longer felt light, and my balance was more stable. I probably pushed it too far in the murder dome. As I cleared my head from my personal fog, the distinct laughter of the wolfbears came crashing down. I was struck with a primal fear. Their presence was everywhere and closing in on me. The box was getting tighter. I was so small and weak. It was only fitting that I offer myself to the strong. They deserved me. It was my des¡ªa sharp pain shot in my mind. Laughter dulled from the bright pain. In the moment of clarity, I surrounded my ears with an ice band. The wolfbears closed in. I took another second to calm my nerves and then lashed out. Long sword in one hand, a battle ax in another. If anyone saw my fight, they would be disgusted by my methods. Even I couldn''t hold back my own judgment. Regardless of my savage methods, I cut through flesh and bone. When my weapons broke, I summoned new ones. This time, with two axes. I was as feral as the predators surrounding me. Gore covered my body, and I had to force myself to stop licking lips that''d been dried from excessive mouth breathing. Though it hurt, I controlled my breathing to avoid the rusty haze permeating the battlefield. The haze followed wherever the battle took us. Death and red painted new turf seconds after my arrival. I swung my sword until I couldn''t hold it anymore. I switched to Snowpiercer and found I had just enough strength to fire my bow. I delivered death with every shot. Even the grand rank beasts were slain easily. I was a bloody nightmare inside my fog. At some point, the sky darkened, and a trickle of water poured from the sky. The trickle turned to a downpour. The ground began to cool. Rain washed the grime from my body. Not contained in my shell, my fog slowly lifted. I no longer had the power to keep the mana from rising. The unveiled scene was sickening. I couldn''t count the dead, nor did I want to. Only a few more beasts remained. I was going to survive this fight. I had to endure. That was the third step in the body cultivation cycle. The wolfbears noticed my presence and charged together. Grit and determination aided each of my shots. I was going to live. My bow shook in my hand, the drawstring pulled to the extent of my strength. The half-shot would be enough. One beast down. Only seven left. I drew another arrow and willed myself to fire the shot. Six. I could only pull the bow a third of the way for the next two shots, bringing the count down to five. I pulled my last arrow before it came to daggers and limp arms. It was only a quarter of a draw, so I aimed to wound. The pack leader was in my sights; as I released my breath and prepared to fire, my world turned black. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. I woke up standing in a puddle of water. My hand was stretched out. Blue refreshing mana accumulated on my fingers. Selene''s bloody damned pits. I died? I was winning that fight. I was going to survive. Soggy flaming bastard... I needed a moment to calm my nerves. The exhaustion that nearly claimed me at the end of the fight was only a haunting memory that lingered in my soul. I inhaled the air; it was still heavy with death, but at least I couldn''t taste it. I kept my eyes averted from my friends and decided to ignore the rest of the dead while I was at it. I was gonna need a good soak to fully recover. It took a couple more seconds to calm my nerves. It was strange; I don''t remember dying, and I wasn''t about to faint even though I was tired. It only took a quick glance at my frozen body for the realization to sink in. Either the contained beast broke through my dome, or the rain melted it. I completely forgot about the beasts I captured before my tactical retreat. They must''ve picked the more leisurely meal, and if the rain melted my dome, it would''ve melted my body. Maybe the wolfbears didn''t even get to me. I could''ve just run out of time. But why did it rain? It didn''t rain in the loop before the last, and I lived for the same amount of time. Even the amount of mana I expended was about the same, and I wasn''t nearly strong enough to affect the weather, not that I knew how. The only difference was my lack of cultivation at the beginning of the last loop. The influx of mana tended to affect weather and the environment, and even though the enlightened beasts consumed the dead, they couldn''t absorb the mana like awakened beings. So, if I didn''t cultivate the excess energy or remove my body, I might have two days tops before getting eaten or unthawed. That was good to know. Then again, Tents could''ve told me it was going to rain. I waited another moment for the inevitable retort. New life, passive-aggressive thoughts, and ignorant speculation were what I figured to be a surefire summoning ritual. It''s not rain, I could imagine him saying, except it''d be more proper, and he''d exaggerate his syllables as he tended to. The retort didn''t come. I tried to sense my mind invader. Like all other attempts, I couldn''t find him. "You hear that Squids? I said thanks for the warning." He didn''t take my bait; it was nice and chummy, too. That was the other thing about squids. This relationship was one-sided. He got to frolic in my mind, doing as he pleased. I had to put in the work and effort. I was keeping us alive¡­ sorta and getting us strong. What was he doing? My thoughts lingered on my possessive companion before I shook my head clear and focussed on more productive pursuits¡ªmeditation and then cultivation. I was wrong about my earlier assumption. I didn''t live half as long in my last life as I did in the loop before. I spent nearly three days in this spot alone and then another day fighting. In my previous life, I was maybe two days max. My body cultivation gains were nearly the same, though. I had gained another quarter of a level in the strength pathway. I didn''t feel any stronger. Maybe I was a little faster? More explosive? I continued to control the flow of my thoughts, recounting the battle and finding ways to improve. I had a steel blade but never used it due to the demand for a larger weapon, and switching over to the blade in the middle of the fight was inconvenient when my summons was merely a thought away. So, what I needed was to improve my blade summoning. With enough practice, I was sure I could improve the sharpness of my weapon. I pushed the goal to later, adding it to my ever-growing list of things I needed to do. Countless lives... it didn''t feel like it was enough. When it came time to review my new skill, mist wraith, I was stoked. During that fight, I got to experience what light cultivators with the vanishing skill experienced all the time. It was a dark power that made me trust the creepers even less. Unlike the creepers vanishing whenever they pleased, mist wraith was very conditional. I needed mist and to be covered in my mana¡ªprojecting a water aura. Even then, I was not disappearing; I was more melding into my mist. The more I thought about it, the more limitations I found or theorized about. It wasn''t the ace in the sleeve I thought it would be. Cultivators with a high perception could pierce the veil, and the same could be said for spirit beasts. Air lancers could blow my mist away. Dark lancers could block my mana, cutting off my aura. Fire lancers could evaporate my mist or, even better, track my heat signatures. Light lancers had enough tricks that they would surely be able to find me, and life lancers were just plain hard to hide from. Death and earth lancers might cower at my might. I couldn''t think of ways they could counter my spell. I guess technically, a death lancer with the ability to absorb had the chance to use any skill. The pales were such cheaters when it came to abilities. Clearly, whatever higher power or force out there favored them. They even had their own motto: '' Death is power.'' I mean, it made sense because pales were strong, and killing was the fastest way for anyone to grow in power. It was still weird, and they let it go to their head. The pales weren''t even number one on the kill list. It was always bloomers first and then the pales if no sleepers were around. Everyone knew sleepers died first. No one was chanting, ''death to the sleepers,'' though, and all the dark cultivators I knew were somewhat normal. On top of that, I never once questioned the sleepers on whether my corpse would be used as their minion. Pales said they had a code. No one believed them. Probably the best use of my new ability was to get better at running away. The better I ran, the more likely I was to survive, which was essential to body cultivation. If I hadn''t died in those last two fights, I might have already had a complete level of strength. My fragile, weak body let me down. Perhaps it was time to start learning how to create ice armor. 18. Ice Armor Water cultivators, hydros, high in spirit cultivation, or natural talent could create ice armor at the page rank. The King of Kukoa was rumored to have summoned his armor when he was only a page. The whole royal family had a high affinity for water, though. Regular cultivators struggled to learn the skill if they were lower than squire rank. I never got close to creating an acceptable suit of armor. The method was similar to creating an aura. Mana was projected outside the body, maintaining a constant connection to the channels. Auras were created by pushing mana out from the entirety of channels. The aura of a cultivator provided a few advantages. It was proof of power; it could be protection from domains depending on how strong the aura was, and it allowed more control of mana, internal and external. Two aspects of cultivation determined an aura''s strength: the cultivator''s talent and the rank of their soul. Talent was a pathway of spirit cultivation, an area I haven''t touched yet. Eventually, I would have the perfect balance of body, mind, and spirit. It was a foolish idea, sure. Balance builds were mocked by many as inferior cultivation paths. A cultivator following the path of many could never keep up with those on the path of few. As far as I knew, only a few cultivators had the opportunity I did. Well, not the same opportunity as me, but they had time. The one common understanding was that balance required time. Time and even death was on my side. What I lacked in talent, I made up for with mana and experience. Mana came from my rank as a knight and experience from the many training sessions with Rocky and Sasha, who both cultivated their spirit to some extent. She kept it secret, but Sasha managed to reforge her soul. I pushed out the mana from my channels, allowing my dim aura to form. I wasn''t going to impress anyone with my power. The thin layer of water mana circulated around me. It was imperceptible to the eye and could only be felt or sensed with energy perception. It was like wearing the softest blanket that wrapped perfectly around my body. This feeling was different for each cultivator, depending on their mana. I focused on my aura, noting how it ebbed and flowed around me. It was an ocean of power with an endless depth, yet it remained calm, gentle, and passive. The cool energy cycled around me for several minutes while I sat silently. I couldn''t use my aura as armor; the mana was too refined and wild to be anything other than a projection and a shield from ambient mana sources. I needed to coat my skin in mana like my aura. The thought was simple. The action¡­ not so much. I drenched myself repeatedly and almost died a couple times when I froze myself in a shell. It didn''t matter how I tried; I couldn''t get the water to coat my arms or the ice to remain flexible. Maybe the problem was internal? I focused on my mana within. It could be that all the rumors I heard about mana armors weren''t true. A secret to keep the power from the weak and the money in the hands of the rich. A brilliant scheme if true, but schemey to the core. It took a moment to lower the water mana temperature inside my channels. It was painful, and I had a nagging thought that I was following a foolish path. I pushed past the pain and doubt and slowed the mana inside me to a crawl. Slowly, the mana solidified. I screamed in silent outrage as I was frozen within. Darkness parted, and I woke up standing in a puddle of water. My hand stretched out. Blue refreshing mana accumulated on my fingers. I waited for Cal to lecture me on wasted life and time. He remained absent. Freezing my insides was a foolish idea and terribly executed. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Although... just to be sure, I tried the same thing but with a slight variation. I woke up standing in a puddle of water. My hand stretched out. Blue refreshing mana accumulated on my fingers. I was most certain now that freezing my insides was a bad idea, and I didn''t have it in me to attempt the armor-within technique again. My short-lived lives had brought me a moment of clarity. I needed to start smaller. Ice formed around my hand, covering it with a frosty, solid layer. Besides the lack of movement, my hand felt fine inside the shell. Lack of movement was the same problem I had when I coated my body in ice. I hoped that if I kept the area small, I could figure out how to make the armor movable. I stared at my frosty hands for hours. It tried all manner of techniques. Coating the hand in water and then a layer of ice. Ice water, then ice. I tried to keep my hand covered in water and slowed the particles down. My hand was nearly solid, and I could still move it and my fingers. I was elated until I stabbed an ice knife through it and skewered my hand. I paused for a moment of cursing and healing before attempting the frozen gauntlet technique again. At one point, it got real wild, and I tried the awkward ice-on-ice protection. As expected, my hand was stiffer, and I gained no extra movement buffs. I thought I had a moment of breakthrough when I started pumping mana into the ice glove. My hands began to move. I realized shortly after that I''d just managed to turn the glove back into water. As the sun settled and I basked in the moon''s soft light, I gave in to temptation''s enticing whispers. I focused inward once more. This time, I focused all my attention on the mana within my hand. With delicate precision, I slowed the mana down. I could already tell my hand was more solid. I opened and closed my hand and wiggled my fingers, checking for dexterity. All was well. So far. I used my semi-frozen hand to punch my other hand. Only one hand hurt. In fact, there was minimal feeling in my cold hand. I was close, and the excitement of my achievement had me singing internal praises. I took a deep breath and proceeded to freeze the mana within. My hand was as solid as ice. An elated feeling of victory rushed through me, and a volley of frozen fists punched into the distant blanket of stars. "Yes!" I basked in the moment of victory. It was important to celebrate wins, big or small. This one felt big. I managed to temper my excitement to further test my armor. I could still move my hand. "Yes," I shouted into the darkness, my frozen fist pumping in a solo victory dance. I calmed myself down to a rational level of excitement. Tests still needed to be executed. Sweat gathered at the palm of my hand, holding onto an ax. I couldn''t watch. I closed my eyes¡ªcommitting a heinous sin of the ax¡ªand held my frozen fist out. Sweaty palms or not, I had to know. I chopped the ax down hard and awkwardly. I felt no pain as the ax struck my hand and only heard the smack and felt the reverberations in my striking hand. It worked! I opened my eyes to witness my success, prepared to commence a new round of fist-pumping. My hand was gone. Nausea swelled inside. I blinked twice to confirm what I wasn''t seeing. I had a wrist but no hand. A handful of shattered pieces covered the ground. Instincts drove me to start picking them up. I stopped after I grabbed my cursing finger... The weight of my actions sunk in. I had committed the greatest ax sin of them all. My stomach churned. Bile lingered at the back of my mouth. I hated looking at my nub but also couldn''t look away. The mark of a fool was on complete display. I contemplated resetting then and there, but it was only just a hand¡ªa bastard left hand at that, which had stabbed the no longer righteous hand not too long ago. I tucked my nub behind my back, allowing my eyes and thoughts some reprieve. One thing was certain. I was done freezing my insides... for now. Maybe I even needed a break from freezing in general. I definitely needed space. Seeing my ice chunks was doing bad things to my insides. Thankfully, my nub didn''t really hurt and was already healing over. I kind of felt like my hand was still there, and in a way, I like to think it would always be with me in spirit. I got up and walked away. I reached the forest before I fainted. 19. The Ice Ranger I dreamed of isolation and loneliness. I saw a man outside my walls so eager to live and experience life and yet terrified to leave his shell''s safety. He longed for simpler times. Times less lonely and isolated. I couldn''t tell if he was crying. His face was solemn, and his eyes were distant. He knew he had a purpose; the success of his mission depended solely on him. And yet the man outside the walls of my shell placed a hand on my cage and looked at me with tender mercy. "Live," the man said and walked away. Though he was gone, a piece of him remained... I woke up in a cold sweat. The shade of the massive trees sheltered me from the intensity of the early sun. No, it wasn''t trees that were blocking the sun. Turbulent clouds were gathering overhead. This was by far my strangest life... and it was only the second day. What the hell was that dream? I cleared the wispy memory from my thoughts, and since I was already prone, I started the day stretching. My arms sprawled out wide, and my hands opened and closed, returning feeling to my fingers. After a few stretches, I brought my hand to wipe tiredness from my eyes. My hand¡ªmissed? Never had I failed such a menial task before. Gouge my eye in haste? Sure. But miss my face entirely? I looked down in disgust. That soggy bastard stole my hand! Foolish thoughts ruled my mind for only a moment before I regained clarity. I glimpsed at my nub in disgust and could only shake my head and laugh. I knew ice armor was an advanced skill. I didn''t realize it would be this difficult to learn. It makes sense why so many cultivators didn''t risk learning skills on their own. It was a dangerous path to follow. I took note of the timing of the storm. This was probably when it would roll around without cultivating the mana or creating a greater disturbance, such as death. Based on the accumulated water, I predicted the storm wouldn''t be as intense as before. I also noted that the wolfbears had yet to arrive. It took them nearly three days when I stayed and cultivated and only a mid-day when I left for the spring to come. Were they that sensitive to my presence? If so, why did they appear at all the first time? The wolves and weather were minor mysteries for now. Not something I needed to investigate, although the timing was important to know if I ever planned to leave the ice block here. As it was now, that wasn''t a safe option. If I was going to any town, I needed to do something with my frozen body first. That was also a problem for another time. I wasn''t going anywhere in this life. I refused to put myself into a situation where I had to explain what happened to my hand. Mystery priority number one... what do I do with my nub? The obvious solution presented itself as soon as I brought up the question. Ax hand was the only answer. It was pure poetic irony. If bards were to witness this day, they''d write ballads of the fallen left hand. From its frozen crumbles, it rose from the frosty ashes like a phoenix burning for new life and purpose. The plot was there. Now, all I needed was the ax. I rested my back against the tree and worked out the details of my new left hand for the next three hours. When the storm started, I summoned a dome, which I had to keep freezing. I raised my masterpiece to inspect it closer. My left hand resembled a war ax commonly found in the hands of highlander orcs. A shaft extended the ax head from the wrist, giving me extra reach. The ax head was double-sided with a log-curved blade on each side. I added a sharp tip at the top of the ax to boost my piercing. The difficulty of crafting the ax was not in crafting it but in connecting it to my arm. The solution was unpleasant, and I broke a promise I made a nap time ago. The vow was foolish, and I shouldn''t be held accountable to such high standards. At the end of the day, all that mattered was that the ax was awesome and firmly secured to my frozen forearm. The bards would sing, indeed. Rain continued to pour throughout the day. It turned to a light mist and only relented when the storm clouds parted. The weather remained overcast, and the ground was extra damp. I was far enough away from the battlefield that I didn''t have to watch the rain bloat corpses. Nor did I have to deal with the smell it was bound to release. That was until I realized I needed to refreeze my body. I cursed the mud as I trekked to my stake and again when I trekked back to the forest. It was good to be thorough when it came to curses. At least, that''s what was said in the witches'' creed. The wolfbears hadn''t shown up yet, which was irritating but not a big deal. Although killing was a surefire way to progress, body cultivation could be done with all sorts of physical training. I ran through all of my katas, implementing my new form in all of them. After finishing my forms, I sprinted, managing to cut myself only a few times. Then I started chopping trees. I knew the trees had no feeling, and everyone thought druids were weird for humanizing everything green. That didn''t stop any of the judgment I felt from the towering colossus. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. It also didn''t help that my map shop stood next to a brewer who insisted trees could taste nutrients, hear sounds, communicate, and send signals through their tissue network when they were being cut. Bettsy was eccentric even for witch standards. She also happened to be right most of the time. The truth of the matter was I''m too soft for this. Even if I chop down every bloodwood, burn the stumps, salt the grounds, and drain the springs, it wouldn''t matter. Nothing I did mattered. I''d die, and life would all reset¡­ until it didn''t reset¡ªanother question to be answered later. The forest would be repaired, and no one would know of my deeds. Deeds that didn''t matter because trees didn''t care. They couldn''t; it wasn''t in their nature. Thud. The weight of my ax fell against the thick bark. I''d already felled three trees and was working on my fourth. Even though my arm was tired, my ax was in great shape. It took little mana to hone the edge. It took me a few hundred swings to get used to a one-arm and hand swing. I only had to push past my mental block to realize the method was no different than any axing. My right hand held the shaft above the nub and added to the strength and precision of my cuts. However, regarding this fourth tree, ''cuts'' was a generous term. I barely broke the bark. Stop being a ninny. Thud. This didn''t matter. The trees didn''t even care. Thud. Bettsy wouldn''t even care. Thud. She would be begging for the sap and encouraging you to cut more. Death is power. Thud. Save them. Live... I¡ªI needed a break. Where were the damn wolfbears? What was happening? Three loops deep, and already having an existential crisis... I was a disaster. Was it the suppression? Did I need to let all my memories out and have a cry? I was pretty sure I did that back in the box¡­ a few times on my pike as well. Deliverer be damned. "You''re a damn tree," ¡ªthis wasn''t my proudest moment¡ª "and my hand is a damn ax. Of course, I''m going to chop you. There was only one way this path led." The tree stayed silent¡ªa fact I was incredibly grateful for. My mind, on the other hand, unraveled. "I know it''s none of your fault my hand is gone. That doesn''t change the fact that I have an ax for a hand, and you''re a tree." The tree maintained its vow of silence. "It isn''t justice. It''s destiny. Something I thought you''d understand." Thud. I should''ve never left that box. "Your death will be a great bounty to the forest. You''ll nourish the ground and bring new life." Thud. Sweat dripped into my eye. I used the wrong hand to wipe and left a deep gash on the side of my cheek that stung from the residue of sap that entered it. Finally, the tree was fighting back. That made it worse. "It''s got to matter, right?" Thud. I was content selling my maps. That was who I was. Not an adventurer. Not a hero. I was just the one that lived. "Why was it me? I''m nothing special." No answer. "The others had so much more to offer." They could''ve brought so much peace if they just had the chance to live." Moloki, Knox, Jule, Samantha¡­, and even Kalani had lofty ambitions when they were done with the Marines. I had no aspirations other than to stay close to my friends. The tree remained a tree. "It wasn''t fair." They were cut down in a pointless battle over the prized jewel of the Emperor. A damn armband bought with the blood of the people I loved. Their lives were spent like they were no more than a common resource. Thud. "I was there with them. I just wanted to stay with them. Why didn''t I get to stay? Why was I left behind?" Thud. "I still miss them. Is that what you want me to say? It still hurts. It always bloody damn hurts." Thud. "Now I''m alone again. Why? Thud. "Answer me." Thud. Thud. Thud. "Please, answer me." The tree cracked. The splitting noise reverberated from the surrounding trees, chanting a solemn song. I stepped away. The tree continued to crack, swaying slowly into my deep cuts. The chanting crescendoed as the cracks got louder and faster. The fibers could hold on no longer and finally snapped. There was no more chanting. The tree fell without a noise. It was a beautiful giant. Its only mistake was being a tree near an arm that happened to be an ax. Thud. I stood in silence a moment longer. I had nowhere I wanted to go. Everywhere reminded me of death. I thought of chopping another tree and decided that was a good idea. My feet remained planted. So I stood in hollow silence. Squids might be right. Time wasn''t on my side. A sinister laughter broke the reverent silence. Peace I didn''t deserve was ripped away. My ax hung low at my side, its blade sharpened fresh for a fight. My head hung lower. A sword summoned in my right hand. I didn''t bother silencing the laughter with an ice band. The hackles were nothing compared to the maddening emptiness inside me. Lana saw this hollowness in me once. She loved me anyway. I took a deep breath, my feet firmly planted. When the predators came to feast, I pretended to be the tree that wanted to live. 20. The Hollow Path I was surrounded by death. Shade that once protected me from the harsh glare of the morning sun provided no cover. There were no trees in sight. I was the only thing standing. The little ground that could be seen around me pooled in thick blood. Everywhere else was a shredded mess. My body looked no better. I had no fabric of clothing left. I wanted to sit, but there was nowhere for me to rest. The sun continued to scorch the barren ground, and a perverse steam accumulated. The massacre had been wild. Beasts and trees fell without remorse. I was hollow and unfeeling. As weak and foolish as I felt trying to chop down trees, it was nowhere as weak as I felt now. I felt gross, not because I was covered in blood but because I didn''t care. The wolfbears kept coming, so I kept chopping. No purpose. No reason. They were there, and I had an ax. Part of me knew the path would be easier down this road. It wouldn''t be the stars I was reaching for; I would rule the heavens. It would be so easy, too. A hollow box had endless potential. It could continually consume, and it would never be enough. All I had to do was remain hollow. To say the temptation wasn''t there was a lie. The void pulled at my soul, begging me to let go. Whispering that it wouldn''t be forever. It was only temporary¡­ only for when it was needed. Of course, if I wanted it to stay longer, I could stay in its comforting confines. I didn''t even have to ask. I could just be. No judgment. No remorse. As I looked at the piles of dead beasts, I admitted that I desired the power to not care. If I didn''t care, then all of this truly meant nothing. If I didn''t care, I could be a god. I cared, though, and that was all that mattered. I cared about the people, the forests, the beasts, the living, and the dead. If I didn''t care, then what was the point of having the power of a god or being a god? I was disgusted with myself, and for that, I was grateful. It took me several hours to gather all the dead trees and beasts. I brought them to the graveyard of my friends and piled them high. Wood was processed for fire. The meat was consumed when I was hungry. I labored day and night to extract all of the cores. When the task was completed, I ground the cores into a powder which I boiled with my mana into a brew. Refining cores was a tedious process. I knew I was wasting time. There was plenty of ambient mana to cultivate, and I had an entire day of slaughter to analyze. I sat close to the fire and watched the water boil and reduce, leaving remnants of power behind¡ªremnants that lived not long ago. "This is a much better view," Cal said, his voice sounding as if he were sitting next to me, and I looked to my side for confirmation. "Their self-aggrandizing was beyond arrogant. At the end of the day, they were trees. Tall trees, but trees nonetheless." Now that the flayen was here, I didn''t want to talk. Instead, I grabbed my stick and stirred the pot. "I knew this natural beauty once." Cal mumbled the words at first." Her bark was golden, and the leaves she grew radiated mana beyond the comprehension of our scholars. One sip of dew that graced her skin would allow cultivators to break through realms. Though she was an aspen and had thousands of sisters, she chose to live alone, unattached, and unlinked to her family''s collective mind. She, alone, strove for the heavens. Not that she ever reached high, nor did she dig deep. Instead, she remained true to her idea of a tree. It was her identity, her very being, that reached up." I threw another log onto the roaring fire, stepped away, and inspected my ice cauldron. After reinforcing the pot with mana, I added water and another pound of ground cores to the brew. The powder shimmered when it landed in the pot, and the boiling water pulled it into its frantic energy, mixing the array of light into a liquid. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "Anointed Seed of Heaven was her name. I called her Ash. It didn''t take long for Ash to garnish the attention of my peers. She became a treasure of my world. A castle was built around her. Guards were stationed to watch over her. Scientists studied her. The powerful used her. Ash never objected to any of it. She was, after all, a tree. "I was her personal guard. I was stationed at her side every hour of the day. I read her books, sang songs, theorized, and philosophized to her. I spent the happiest years of my life by her side. One day, we engaged in a one-sided conversation, much like we are now, discussing the intricacies of the mind. I was deeply conflicted¡­ she spoke back to me." I placed the lumber I was chopping through back down and waited for Tents to continue. The cauldron melted from within rapidly, and the boiling water inside was a blink away from spilling out. I knew a frozen pot would work counter to my goal and would be weak to the intense heat. It wasn''t meant to endure the process. It only needed to provide enough structure for me to add another layer of ice onto it. This layering process widened my pot as more energy powder was added. It wasn''t my intention, but boiling water while freezing the pot was an intensive exercise for my mind and spirit. Tents remained silent. I could tell he was trying to relate to me. His words and emotions were there. The squid cared about the tree. I wonder if his hand held the ax when Ash was cut down. "You can call me Calipso, and I did not hold the ax, though, after years of reflection, I wish I had." Pain, torment, and regret flash through my mind. "You are right not to trust me, Kainoa; I have every intention of taking control of your body." My pot begins to crack. Water and mana leaked out. My eyes remained open, my hands unresponsive. It was one thing to suspect your mind was being attacked. It was another to know it. My arms wrapped around my body, adjusting to the awkwardness of my ax. The solution was to remove the ax, which I did, and then scooted closer to the fire. Water and fire had a peculiar relationship in that they didn''t want to exist with each other. Both fought to extinguish fire through evaporation and water through suffocation. I never had much use for fire. I could regulate my temperatures on my own, and as a ranger, I found its brightness at night to be a glaring weakness. We were enemies through and through, on the battlefield and off. It was impossible to cultivate in a firestorm. Yet, at the moment, fire was my only comfort. I had no clothing, shelter, or trees to hide underneath. All I had was a bickering flame, and I craved its warmth. I eased my body next to it for some sense of security. It wasn''t much, but I found an ember of strength. "My name is Kip, and you can''t have my body." "Kai¡ª" "My name is Kip." I raised my volume in thought and voice. "If you can''t respect that, we are done." The desperate hold onto anything they can grasp. My name was a sliver of resistance. "Very well, Kip. It is nice to meet you." "You can stop with the pleasantries. I don''t want you here, and you don''t want me to be here. Let''s not pretend we will be friends." "You are right to push me away." A tension near my temple relaxed like a sigh of relief. The tension had been ever-present. Now that it was gone, I noticed more that it was there. My only hand moved to the tension-free spot and rubbed in a circular motion, trying to ease any lingering pain. "In truth, I have been trying to deceive you this whole time. My first blunder was the mind projection. No, my first mistake was underestimating your resolve. After two hundred deaths, I thought you would be an easy host to control. Can we start over?" No more pain remains, yet my hand continues to massage my head. I had a sea of questions but only one answer. "No." 21. Fresh Start As much as people tried and wished for a restart, the fact of the matter was that restarts weren''t real. Actions, choices, and words all had lasting consequences. If a man called another man a bastard only to apologize when the bastard turned out to be a great man, the bastard profaner could never reclaim the bastard label he so bastardly dealt out. No apology and no do-over would change the fact that there were still two bastards. So no, I wasn''t going to accept a restart with Cal. It didn''t matter that we were coffin buddies on a first-name basis or that I felt terrible because he was friends with a tree, and I just massacred a forest, and it especially didn''t matter that I was stuck in a loop with what seemed like endless restarts. Cal was my possessor, and I was possessed. We weren''t starting over unless that meant he was exorcized from my mind. "What do you mean no?" Calypso asked. "I''m a bastard." Damn it. I only had one chance, and I missed the landing. "We''re bastards. Shit." He had to be messing with my mind. I thought I could sneak in another attempt. "You''re a bastard, and unless restart means you leave, then no, you get no do-overs." The execution was sloppy, but the message was delivered. Further boosting my confidence was the fact that I no longer palm-hugged my head and had resumed cultivating my frozen pot full of boiling water. "You do understand¡ª" "I know I''m in a recursion. It doesn''t make ''restarts'' any more real." "The amount of looping your mind goes through to jump to a conclusion is fascinating." "The caterpillar weaves many paths before he calls a cocoon home." "What is this caterpillar you refer to, and why is it essential to your world? I do not believe I encountered a single one. Is it like a dragon?" "More like a phoenix without the fire and dying, which makes it much more impressive." "And that is cause for your obsession?" "I''m not obsessed with them. I tend to avoid them. They''re bad for business." "You''re making this all up." I sorta was. That didn''t make it any less true, and I had a pile of ashes of chewed-on maps as evidence. Or I had. The evidence might''ve been destroyed, and blaming moths was probably more accurate than butterflies. Still, they were cousins, so they remained guilty by association. Besides, we were talking about caterpillars. What did anyone really know about those morphing grubs? "The caterpillar is the harbinger of tragedy," I said with a confident finality. "Their beauty preludes destruction." A wisp of understanding breezed through my thoughts. I could almost see the octopus nodding and getting lost in the memory of a beautiful tree where Cal sat and ate lunch under Ash''s shade. The memory was fleeting, and empty walls erased my image of Cal, leaving only his voice behind. "You said there was no fire. Now I know you are making this up. I feel it in your pulses as well. They are getting extra sparky. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. "Well, how do you like it when someone messes with your mind? It''s beyond unsettling. And butterflies are beautiful; of course, they are bad for business." "So, are we even?" "Not even close. You need to get out of my head." "I cannot, nor do you want me to. As much as you long for the grave, you long for her more." "Get out." "We can work together. Our goals align for a while." "Get out." "If I leave, you will die. There will be no vengeance. The Deliverer is never held accountable. Your friends remain dead, forgotten with the worms, and then your world, Helm will be destroyed, and everyone here will die with it. "I don''t care about revenge, and I don''t care about the world." "Yet the destruction of a forest and spirit beasts has brought you to your knees." "Because it was by my hand." "And if you let the world be destroyed, is it not because of your hands?" "I''m not the one holding the ax, am I?" "Will that help you sleep any easier? You may not be holding the ax, but you did nothing to stop its fall." "And how am I supposed to do that when you, a mighty god, couldn''t stop the ax from falling." "We both know I''m no god." "Ae." There was another pause in the conversation. No veil is parted for me to get a glimpse of Cal, and I sense no emotion from him either. I wait for a comfortable thirty seconds before I start brewing. Without my guidance, the bonfire tripled in mass. Entire trees burned in seconds, barely satiating the fires'' hunger. The mana around us had become distorted with death and fire. Both were driven to consume, uncaring that the more they did, the faster they ended their pursuit. I couldn''t sense the ambiance of any other mana except for the kettle I cultivated and the night brooding in the distance. I assumed our conversation was just on pause. I don''t know what made Cal so skittish at times. That left me with my thoughts, which were still relatively empty. This wasn''t my favorite loop. Favorite or not, the fruit of my labor was on the edge of ripeness. Through the delicate culmination of time, mana, heat, and water, I''d transmuted the thousands of dull cores into a midnight-purple powder. I had enough powder for about four pills worth of epic rank. Their quality based on the darkness of the powder was nothing to brag about; most likely, it would be appraised at the inferior quality. Inferior as it was, I had a fortune. My pot held more value than I ever dreamed about. With my hand on my large pot, I manipulated the ice, removing extra material and sculpting the rest into a teacup. Cultivators argued over the best way to consume pills. Some said grinding them up and adding them into an elixir was the only true path; others swore that you had to swallow the pill without letting it touch your tongue in fear that you might taint the composition. A few cults preached that consumption destroyed cultivation and was a shortcut to damnation¡ªthese were few and far between and were mainly composed of brawny physical cultivators. Most of the powerful cults invested heavily in pills and elixirs. Power was the only path; all that mattered was how far one could go. I tended to favor the logic of Bettsy, "if you have a pill, swallow it; if you have tea, drink." We rarely had either, and on most occasions, we would sip on hot water and reminisce on the day and how much we disdained our customers. I missed Bettsy. Outside the loop, it had only been a couple of weeks since I last saw her, and I wondered how she managed both of our businesses. I will return home in one of these loops, I decided, if only to see her and let her burn down my shop, hers would burn down right after. In another life, I''d take her to my home island where she dreamed about living and help her settle down and begin a new adventure. She''d be uncomfortable with the idea at first. But she''d warm up to it in hours and then practically beg me to take her to the land of endless seas. It didn''t matter. Three words shattered my passing thoughts, bringing me back into the realm of realism. It was a hard pill to swallow, and I doubted I''d be able to. I swished water in a cup, mixing the powder into a potent elixir, and raised my glass to the witch who taught me everything I knew about brewing¡ªthe same witch that led Lana into my shop. In a smooth motion, I tilted my head back and drank the thick liquid in one hard swallow. My core ignited like the bonfire beside me. 22. Dance of Fire and Ice If Bettsy was here, she would''ve slapped me for breaking rule one of potion making, which was never be the one to test your own brew. Then she would''ve laughed for drinking an elixir so potent it was toxic. It wasn''t so much that cultivators shouldn''t drink potent elixirs as much as cultivators¡­ well, shouldn''t... My burning core being the very reason. Nubs and nails clawed at my chest. I broke my skin, causing blood to pour out. I washed the wound with icy water. The fire inside burned hotter. A passing thought of freezing my core flashed through my mind. I promised myself I wouldn''t. My bloody nub was a constant reminder of that ill-fated urge. The urge grew as the fire spread. If I could contain the flame, I wouldn''t hurt so much. I needed to cut off the source. I curled into a ball and rocked near the wildfire. The comfort I sought early betrayed me. The fire opened its famished maw and ripped into my flesh. I rolled away, kicking the flame. My foot connected with a burning log, dislodging it from the pit. The log rolled, leaving a trail of fire behind. The intense heat fueled by ambient mana devoured all in its path. As the wildfire grew, I continued to roll, trying to extinguish the flame burning inside and outside my body. Rolling didn''t work. I pushed my mana, igniting my channels and forcing water to form around me. Water and fire collided, fighting like the cruelest of enemies trying to inflict the most pain. My mana was winning the battle outside. Inside, the flame had spread everywhere, burning my entire being. It was only a matter of time before my mind melted as well. I could end this. I could put myself out of my misery and start over. There was no need to drag this torture out. What did I have to gain? The fire raged toward the man in the ice. I didn''t have to do anything. In a matter of moments, it would all come to an end. Live for them. In a frozen moment, I saw the eyes of the frozen man. This life was no game to him. Every chance he gave me, he paid for with his suffering. It was callous to think he didn''t care or couldn''t feel. It was selfish to forget our promise. Death may be my ultimate path, but I won''t embrace it willingly. I force more mana outside my body, drowning myself in an orb of water. Another layer of mana coats my skin. My orb steamed and bubbled as fire desperately fought to consume me. The fire no longer had fuel, yet it remained burning and boiling. Mana was a miracle until it became a force to recon with; at that point, it became a disaster. I closed my fist, freezing the exterior of my shell. The fire simmered and bit back. I added more mana and another layer of ice. The flame sputtered and died. The moment of relief shattered when I inspected the damage. I closed my eyes and vowed to never look again. Luckily, the war within had destroyed any gag reflexes. Although one battle had been won, I was losing two others. Even with my eyes closed, I sensed the fire racing toward my old self. I needed to stop it, but I was trapped and completely surrounded by the consuming flame and was dying within. Toxic mana pumped into my core, cycling into my channels and bleeding into my veins, organs, and tissues. Every second, it inched closer to my mind. How it hadn''t burned through already remained a mystery. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Despite my dire circumstances, I lied on my back in my bubble, watching the world around me burn. A vortex of energy manifested at the heart of the mana fire. It spun in rapid circles, growing brighter with each turn. When it reached the sun''s brightness, the vortex pulled in dead wolfbears, dirt, spent wood, and anything else in its reach. My ice shield got caught in the pull, and I had to slam spikes through it into the ground to remain. My old body was not as fortunate. The extra-thick dome of ice had completely melted. I tried to sit up, but my flesh felt like liquid, and instead, I cursed in agony. What are you doing? Do not let the mana enter your mind. Push it out. Not helping. It burns. My head rang and pulsed in violent flashes. Potent mana was breaking through my barrier and trickling into my head. My vision blackened. By the Pale Moon, please make it stop, Cal screamed into my mind, pushing the darkness at bay. Our connection¡­ the recurs¡ª We were both screaming. I needed to stop the pain. I pulled on my mana, attempting to empty my tank all at once. It was like pulling on the ocean. I pushed outward, but my channels had clogged. I wasn''t going to die fast enough. Cal was worried, and that made me nervous. I focused on the center of my core and commanded the mana within to freeze. My core froze from my first layer to my fourth, the mana within turning to ice. The freezing spread into my channel, cutting off the flow of mana. I released my breath and noticed my lungs weren''t on fire. I didn''t deserve a peaceful death. At least not this life. I took one last breath as the rest of my channels froze. Coldness covered me. I woke up a second later covered in a layer of ice, not the same ice that was my dome¡­ it was the same ice, but this one was connected to me. I created ice armor! I inspected my body, which was no longer melted and oozing. Sure enough, I was as solid as ice. Hell yeah! And what the hell? I''m pretty sure I froze my core before. No, I froze my mana, which was different. This was the secret technique of water cultivators? The damn frauds. I burst out of my shell as a frozen butterfly, slick, icy, and cold. My frozen skin repelled the fire, and the ice in my channels gave me a constant supply of energy. No, I was wearing my mana as a coat of protection. I didn''t have to push mana from my channels to wield it; I only had to think, and the mana formed. I sprinted through smoke and flame, resisting the powerful storm pulling me into the center. I wasn''t going to make it in time. My old body''s shell melted. The body was exposed and vulnerable to the fire biting at the stake. The man didn''t move despite the intense heat. He held his focus and survived. I''m only a hundred feet away. The fire snapped the spike and searched the ground for its next meal. My life preserver was inches away from the flame. I threw everything I had at the fire: ice balls, spikes. The flame hissed and recoiled and launched another attack. I attempted to throw a barrier and settled for kicking a wall. The wall did little to stop the predator that continued to claw forward. It did, however, crash into my life battery, pushing the lifeless body away. The seconds bought was all I needed. I arrived a heartbeat later, scooped up my body, and fled to safety. We survived the second battle, but the war was far from over. 23. Of Monster and Man Bloody orange flames haunted the night sky. Acrid smoke suffocated the air and blocked out any signs of the moon. The slumbering bloodwoods, once majestic and stoic, became torches. Their massive bodies crackled as fire consumed them with a mesmerizing and terrifying ferocity. Embers swirled around me like angry moths, landing on the ground and igniting smaller fires that quickly spread. The fallen trees groaned and cracked as if they were crying out. Fire sang with the wind, pushing, pulling, and pulsing. The beat was fast and hungry, and the haunting sounds of laughter joined the choir. I stood alone in the sea of fire. It didn''t take long in my retreat to realize there was no safety, or more precisely, I was the safest place to be. I refroze my life preserver and kept him close as I battled flame with ice. No matter how hard we struck at one another, neither of us could find an advantage. I created ice walls only for them to be melted. Ice spears extinguished rogue flames only for a new flame to take its place. Tornadoes appeared, and I severed them with my sword. Amidst the inferno, firewalkers manifested. The demons of flame stood at my height with vague bodily features. They loomed around in the flame, circling my position. I made sure to cut down every single one of the demons that got close, pelting them with a volley of ice spears. It took ten spears to down one fire fury, and there were dozens of them. I drove past the pain burning within; I was at a dangerous level of mana exhaustion. After the fight I could think of safety. Until then, I had to put down the monster¡ªa monster I created. I kept my brick of ice behind me as I battled and continued to restore its protective barrier. My ice armor proved to be ever-resilient against the flames. Even fighting amidst the fire, I didn''t fear burning. There was no way I was surviving otherwise. Flames ceased spreading, and tendrils of the orange mana collected pieces of its body. I threw all of my power into the heart to no avail. The ice melted before it ever got near. As I waded into the deep orange sea with my frozen body in tow, I broke through another barrier of my ice armor. I could manipulate water once more. I drenched the grounds, stepping closer and closer. The heart was within sight. It was smaller than a common core and as bright as the sun. It pulsed with life and energy, each wave spreading its desire for more. Flames rushed into the heart, temporarily satiating the lust. When the hunger for power came, there was never enough. The burning ember noticed my presence. It was an odd sensation to be seen by something that wasn''t sentient or even had eyes. I didn''t know if what I felt was real or part of a terrible illusion. At the same moment, I could hear the faintest whisper calling for me, beckoning me to join it¡ªto become one. To unite. I took a step forward, but a painful bite to my leg stopped my next step. I pulled back and saw the armor had melted. I took another step back, and my protection reformed. I was disappointed to learn I wasn''t invulnerable in my armor; however, it was good to know the limitations of my skill. Hearty fires were a no-go. I took another step back. The whisper got louder. Come, it prodded. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I threw water instead. It evaporated ten feet away. The fire hissed and repelled and then surged forward. I repeated my assault, straining my will. Massive fists of water formed around my hand and nub. I hammered back the surging fire with jabs, crosses, and hooks. My relentless assault cleared the way for me to step toward the center. I pushed forward, draining my well at an incredible speed. The heart called for me louder. Unlike the flame, it didn''t back away from my water. It accepted the rebuttal and lurched forward. Five more feet. My armor dripped. Steam wisped off my body, evaporating entirely as soon as it left. With gritted teeth, I poured the remainder of my mana into a spear and rammed it into the fire''s heart. Yes. I was beginning to melt. I pulled my spear back and stabbed the heart again and again. I was shouting. The fire laughed. Flames rushed around me, pooling into the heart. I mustered the last of my strength and once more stabbed, screaming at the top of my lungs. I ran my spear deep into the core. The heart pulsed once inward. Time froze. Energy exploded. Violent and unstable orange mana washed over me. As I was tossed several yards away, a chilling sob rang in my ears, and my armor was destroyed. I smacked the ground with a heavy thud, followed by painful cracks and another scream of anguish. My limp body rolled several feet, then slid to a stop. The scratching of the scorched ground on my raw skin was as terrible as the broken bones. I struggled to breathe. There was no mana in my core to call upon. I couldn''t turn my head. I couldn''t move at all. I opened my eyes and witnessed the black earth around me. First, charcoal, scorched soil, and a hideous smoke caught my attention. Then, it was the white snow that fell all around me. In a matter of seconds, a layer of ash blanketed the ground. Smoke and ash entered my airways. I tried to avoid the cough building, placing all my wishes on a better outcome. My wishes were in vain. I coughed several times. Tears struggled to streak down my face as the soot absorbed the moisture, becoming a paste. I waited sixty heartbeats before I opened my eyes again. I might be a disaster, but I won. Get strong, get hurt, and survive. Body cultivation may be simple. Simplicity didn''t make the process any less of a bastard. As the tears cleared from my eyes, my vision became less blurry. I couldn''t see or sense any fire around me. I let out a sigh of relief and relaxed. Come. My heart pulsed. I scanned all around me, my eyes darting back and forth, searching as far as their limited vantage allowed them. I couldn''t see past the log, but there was no glowing orange background. Was the voice in my head? I pushed out my senses once again and found no trace of mana outside of my body. The land was barren. I will come to you. Never before had I moved my eyes so rapidly. They darted back and forth. There was no fire. Only ash and soot could be seen. Wait for me. I ran... at least mentally. I needed to get out of here. I tried to squirm away. My body didn''t respond. In my pathetic struggle to escape, my head regained a sliver of movement. I nudged it to the left, trying to pull myself away from the spark. I need you. The voice was chirpy, desperate, and hungry. I will give you power. Together, we will burn the world. A cold-insidious chill ran down my back. 24. Lessons on Purity I couldn''t run away fast enough. I head-crawled away harder. Nope. No way could a flame of power be good for me. The race was intense. I gained inches per minute. I couldn''t see the hungry spark but knew it was out there. The absence of water mana should''ve been the first giveaway. I looked through squinted eyes, trying to gauge the distance between us. I still couldn''t see the ember. Yes, come to me. We belong together. Our passion and fury will devour stars. Your soul and mine belong. My head dropped. I was crawling toward the mana spark. My face paled in terror. I rolled my eyes back, trying to see over my head. Sweat accumulated on my brow and palm. I thought I burned through all of my liquids. My love, wait for me. I will come to you. My instincts bolted, urging me to flee as far as I could. I was a fish with no fins; worse than that, the earth didn''t let me sink away into obscurity. I was a damned, legless crab with one claw. I tried to force a swallow to temper my dry mouth and stirred up another coughing fit. When I no longer winced from pain, I got a good look at the fiery spark. Sparky, formerly known as the heart of the wildfire, was a blue flame that hovered inches above the ground. It had no human features or anything that signified it could talk or think. It was just a blue floating thick flame¡ªalmost like an inverted drop of water. In fact, it gave the impression that if I reached out and touched it, I''d feel corporeal resistance. I wasn''t going to test that theory. My head reached back, trying to create distance. Proximity proved to increase my aversion. You waited for me! My heart is brimming. The flame flickered. It moved inches away, the sweat on my brow evaporated, and the paste below my eyes dried and cracked. Open up. I''d never closed my mouth so hard. My teeth nearly cracked from my clenched jaw. For good measure, I closed my eyes. Sparky rested against my brow. My heart pounded, begging me to leave, sending all the wrong impressions to the love-deficient flame. My well of mana had dried up. I no longer had the power to end this loop, and somehow, my life anchor remained alive. A new panic burned in my head. What if Sparky finds my old body. The thought simmers before it can grow. Surely, it can''t be worse than this. The heat pressing against my forehead relented. I wanted to open my eyes but was too afraid of Sparks touching them. Heat was no longer present. I should be relieved. However, Sparky''s absence terrified me. I gambled, opening one eye and using all my expert years as a ranger, guide, and map maker to survey the ground. Sparks hovered ten feet away; its blue flame reached upward as if it were reaching toward something. A meteor of fire shot down from the sky. I heard the whistling before I sensed an overwhelming source of heat. It wasn''t as overwhelming as the forest fire, but it was still potent and dangerous. The blazing aura around the meteor grew in size as it got nearer. The fireball crashed into the ground twenty feet away from Sparky. Dirt, ash, and debris exploded outward. As smoldering heat and debris washed over me, I clenched my eyes for protection. A log stabbed me in the side. I couldn''t open my mouth to complain because dirt and ash pelted my face. When the dust settled, I cracked my eyes open. A pair of olive hands cupped Sparky. I couldn''t see the face behind the thick white hair, but I could see long, sharp ears sticking out. Warmth radiated from the crouched elf. The well of power I felt in the cultivator''s aura starkly contrasted with the small figure possessing it. Whether the fire cultivator noticed me or not, they showed no signs of caring, and for that, I was grateful. I knew I was leagues away from their level. Mustering the courage of a possum, I kept my body on the ground, my breathing low, and avoided directly staring at the powerful cultivator. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. A secret conversation was happening between the cultivator and Sparky. I heard faint murmurings and laughter, with the occasional word carrying further than the elf intended. "Power... Please join." "Partners? "Raise... Glory." To be honest, I was afraid I heard too much. The elf held Sparky in one hand as she stood. She brushed her hair away from her face and smiled, flashing her perfect white teeth. She brought Sparky to her chest with one hand, holding the ember tightly to her bosom. With her other hand, she smoothed out her loose-fitting robe. The elf''s large almond eyes, nestled under white, bushy brows, looked up for the first time since arriving. I felt the weight of her gaze before averting my eyes. The once comfortable warmth projecting from her aura turned infernal. "Booo." I was at a loss for words, mainly because my throat ached, and it hurt to speak due to a log in my lower diaphragm¡ªand, well... I was intimidated. Booing was the worst thing I could''ve done, but at this point, I was done with fire. "You dare tarnish my air with your foul tongue? Your presence is a stain that I will not permit to exist. Fear not, lowly grass, I will purify you with my radiance. "Booo." Purity, named, not so much after a life commitment but more so after her purifying threat, stepped closer. The step that was more of a stomp caused the top of her robe to dislodge, revealing a silver tattoo of a jester''s crown. "Insolent cur!" Her eyes sharpened, and the ground beneath me ignited. Purity smiled wide. She took a deep breath, releasing it in an exaggerated sigh, and nuzzled Sparky. Sparky nuzzled her back. Betrayal burned bright. I gagged on my putrid scent and counted down the agonizing seconds til reset. This was a terrible loop. Earth rumbled and groaned. The ground quaked as rumbles grew to a grinding roar. Purity stumbled, almost tripping. Heat burst from her palm, stabilizing her. A pit opened under her, rocks forming teeth to the wide mouth. The mouth snapped upwards like a beast. Purity took to the sky to dodge; her foot was inches from getting caught in the bite. Fiery eyes scanned the terrain. I watched Purity trying to catch a clue of what was happening. Fortunately, my personal hell was banished when my body got buried beneath the earth. Unfortunately, I was neck-deep in dirt and had no choice but to watch Purity rain down fire. My head bobbed and weaved, dancing around the meteors of fire. In all my life I couldn''t recall feeling as powerless as I did in this moment. Dying on a stake several times was a close second. However, it could be argued that staking was an extraordinary circumstance. It''s not often that the world is invaded by octopi, and a reckless emperor decides that all present must die. Sure, the two cultivators fighting were powerful. Still, I couldn''t help feeling responsible for the exact position I was in, and it all started because I had a damn ax for a hand. Meteors slammed into golems of black dirt and rock. The thick monster received the burning attacks in stride and hurled boulders they formed from the earth at the flying fire cultivator. Stone lances aiming for Purity''s back melted in her aura. She flew high, dodging the barreling stones. As she swooped, a wave of fire washed into the five earth monsters, pushing four of them back and knocking down the fifth. Before the fifth could upright itself, a massive meteor crashed into the stone body. The explosion blasted the earth-walker into energy and debris. Ao''s bloody pits. A rock jammed into my eye. All the heavens be damned. In my mind, my distant, crumbled left hand was shaking in dissatisfaction. Purity swooped for another fire tide attack. Another mouth hole snapped at her, causing her to bank to her left. A stone hand anticipated her dodge and slapped her from the air. The elf crashed into the ground, fire radiating from her skin, leaving flames behind as her body rolled for several yards. Golems raced to the downed elf. Earth piled on the elf, only to melt away. Another hole opened. Smoke filled the pit, slowing the mouth from shutting. Fire, air, and smoke compacted as the hole closed. Purity was nearly swallowed. At the last moment, the hole exploded, and she flew away. "Booo," I called after the fleeing elf, knowing full well those would be my last words now that she was gone. All things considered, everything had turned to shit, and being crushed by earth was just as bad as death by fire. Selene''s sweet abyss. The end was near. 25. Lessons on Dirt Lingering smoke engulfed my head. I blew as hard as I could to dissuade the cloud from coming my way. It would have been an easy feat if I had been a puffer. Everyone agreed air cultivators blew as much hot air as smokers, if not more. As silly as the power of the wind was, I wish I had that power right about now. My eyelids pushed down hard, trying to keep a tight cover on my eyes. It wasn''t enough. Smoke still got through. In a cruel twist of fate, my puffing attempts backfired, turning into huffing. Tears washed the crusty grime from my face as I coughed awkwardly. I was a head sticking above ground, probably hairless, including the brows, and I had dirt in my teeth. It was as if the gods condemned me for belittling a practitioner of the arts¡­ or burning down a forest¡­ or perhaps someone was fond of the laughing wolfbears. "Oy." I heard a voice from behind. My remaining good eye rolled to look for the earth cultivator. Peripheral was doing me no favors, so I waited side-eyed until the stoner stood where I could see. "Ya still alive over there? Yer friends in rough shape. Nearly put em down as courtesy." Friend, what¡­ "Noo." That was all I could manage to say. "Selene''s braided pits. Ur worse than yer friend. Want me to kill ya, too? Though... mind sharing what paste ur using to get such a shiny complexion before I off ya." I strained my eye further to the left to see the grounder. "Right, me bad, lad. I just have this policy: never stand directly in front of puffers. I know, I know, it''s prejudice. I just can''t trust them. They''re as bad as the creepers." A massive stone hammer dropped, missing my head by inches and filling up my periphery¡ªclassic stoner move. "How ''bout this. You don''t blow smoke, and I won''t use this. "Y... Y-h¡­¡± I gave up on words and nodded my compliance. It was a short nod, but compliant still the same. The earth cultivator agreed. "Good, the name''s Tom. What''s yers?" "Nop." I try to mumble something coherent. "Aye, that''s not islander." "Nop." "Part blood, too," Tom said as if that explained much. In fairness to Tom, it did. Highlanders, like islanders, were orcs. Typically, highlanders lived on the central mountains of Mauna, most never leaving the capital city, Domhain, in their life. Highlanders were known for their incredible earth-cultivating techniques and often won tournaments worldwide. Because of their xenophobic nature, most practitioners believe their powerful earth cultivation is in their blood. Others think it is their worship of their Shogar. Unlike islanders who''d shorn their tusks in defiance of the Shogar, highlanders remained loyal in their worship to the high mage and faithfully tithed their mana. Like typical highlanders, Tom had copper skin, a thick muscular build, long braided hair, a clean beard, and spoke in the common lazy tongue of all orcs. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. What set Tom apart was his lack of tusks¡ªwhich could be a result of his mixed blood, rebellion, or both¡ªand the massive wooden pauldron he wore on his shoulder. The fancy shoulder guards contrasted his garb attire of loose pants and shirt, no shoes, and a round hat. Tom was at least a sage based on the size of his pauldrons and mana emitted from his aura. The highlander grins. "Aye." He raised a hand, pulling my body entombed in dirt out of the ground. Rocks and loose dirt fall from my coffin, but my tomb remains intact. "Let''s get ya fixed ''fore smokes returns." The smoker? Why would Purity return? Oh. In the corner of my good eye, the shimmer of Sparky could be seen covering Tom''s hand. Both of my bodies are lifted in the air. Then Tom opened a hole in the ground, jumped in, and pulled my two nearly dead bodies with him. Darkness filled my vision and crept into my mind. I woke up free-floating in a pond that stretched thirty yards in width and double that in length. I could see through the twelve feet of clear water to the rocky bottom that gradually sloped to the shore. A light breeze carried the heavy, damp air around. Goosebumps rose, covering my mangled body. I didn''t like them¡ªbumpy, weird, and weak, I shivered. What was this cold feeling? I don''t remember the last time I felt cold. The sensation was as odd as the goosebumps. I ran a quick check through my body, stretching my hands, fingers, legs, and stomach. Despite the incredible pain, my body was functioning, albeit less enthusiastic to obey. I eased my arms out, feeling the soreness through the entire motion, and paddled. I spun in circles, though I didn''t know why. I thought I died. Waking up in a cave and floating in a pool instead of standing in a puddle messed with my reality. I couldn''t remember how I got here and why my body felt like it was leaking through the stomach. Also, one of my eyes wasn''t working. My depth perception was off, and it was giving me a headache. The mysteries of life were beyond me. I continued to float in circles in a pond, in a cave full of life and bright as day. Fog clouded my mind, my body ached, and my soul¡­ was empty? That couldn''t be right. I had made tremendous progress filling up my fourth layer. After another round of cultivation, it would''ve been half full. Empty made no sense. I reached to scratch my head. My hand missed, and I ended up punching myself with my wrist. I looked at my hand closer. It was missing. I panicked. I lost my hand... Did I drop it? I searched the bottom of the pond. The frantic motion tore a patch covering my stomach open, turning the clear water red. I had to get out of the water. Why was I swimming to begin with? You don''t swim with an open wound. That was ocean-dwelling basics. The murky water terrified me. I didn''t know what lingered below, but it probably stole my hand and desired more. With my one good hand, I scooped and pulled water, trying to swim toward safety. I crawled onto the shore. My lungs demanded strong breaths. I managed short, choppy ones. It wasn''t enough. Lightness filled my head. I reached to massage it and was reminded of my missing hand. Did I lose another one? Blood rushed to my head. My head rushed to the ground. I woke up lying next to a puddle of water. One arm stretched out, and the other was covered and tied to my chest. A bandage covered an eye, and a patch of mud covered my stomach. Rocks underneath me jammed into my back. My body ached, but it was bearable. I was so lost. I thought I died. I should''ve woken up in that graveyard, standing in a puddle, not lying next to one. I didn''t bother to question it. I closed my eye and fell back asleep. "Good, ur wake¡­" I could hear distant talking. Even though my mind was active, I hadn''t opened my eyes. The calm voice sounded so familiar. Pa? I couldn''t remember the last time I heard him or Ma talk. I thought they were dead. I missed them so much. Tears fell unbridled. It felt so good to listen to Pa''s voice again. My open tears would bring shame. I didn''t care, neither would they. "Easy, son. Yer mana''s replenishing. Breathe and sleep." The tender voice eased my back to sleep. I woke up standing in a puddle of water. My hand stretched out. Blue refreshing mana accumulated on my fingers. Tenty laid on the ground next to my impaled body. His body and face sprawled from when he died. Tears streamed down my face. 26. Faded Memories I stood in my puddle for an interminable amount of time. At one point, the sun got tired of my idleness and slipped away. I don''t recall the moon joining my vigil. It skipped, or the sun realized it had nothing better to do and returned shortly after leaving. My head was in a fog, my heart hurt, though I didn''t know why, and I longed for home¡ªa feeling I couldn''t remember having since I left. Home was a silly place of kind and cruel memories. There were times of happiness with my parents as we foraged and hunted in the forest. Times of pain when the news of my sister''s death got back to us, and my parents rebelled against the ruling family. We became outcasts and were ostracized from the community. My parents had no resources when I was old enough to begin cultivation. They sold their lives just to get by. I wasn''t allowed to attend youth academies or participate in training sessions. Most kids avoided interacting because they feared the shame of cowards rubbing off. My parents weren''t cowards; they saw a flaw in the system and suffered for exposing it. I broke their hearts when I joined the Alderi regulars. All youth of Kukoa were expected to serve. As an outcast, there was no expectation for me; I was free from the chains. My parent''s lack of freedom led me to the registration. I almost wasn''t accepted, which would have been our island''s first and bright shame. The only friend I had used his dad''s influence to get me through. All my money was sent back to my parents until the day. Every credit and core saved was building us a better future. I didn''t know how they died. All I knew was the world grew empty without them. I drifted at sea with no purpose and no shore to call home. By the time my service with the empire came to an end, the death of my parents became a faded memory. Signing up for the marines was an easy choice. I had nowhere else to go or any plans on what to do. I lacked the skills to make it as a crafter and wasn''t bold enough to be an adventurer. The only thing I was sure of, I wasn''t going back to Kukoa. Sure, the Kukoa had its beauties. Crystal-clear turquoise water surrounded the island, with soft-white sandy beaches stretching along the coastline. The few moments when I wasn''t struggling to survive or gain an edge in cultivation, I spent rolling in the waves and diving into the calming depths. The ocean never cared that my family were outcasts. Even the central mountain range, where I spent most of my time, had a majestic allure. A dense tropical rainforest dressed the mountains, covering the hills in giant ferns and ancient trees that bloomed bright flowers. Cascading down the mountains were countless waterfalls. The rivers sparkled with an ethereal glow, emanating tranquility. Life flourished in the mountain rainforests. When my parents or I were desperate enough to sneak the royal families'' ''claimed'' wealth, we got to experience a life of sweet fruit, rich meats, and hearty roots. The feasts never lasted long enough, and the consequences of illegal hunting were always dire. It didn''t take much to see past the beautiful mask of Kukoa and uncover the rot of greed and power festering underneath. I could no longer look upon the island''s beauty without seeing the facade. So maybe it wasn''t home I longed for but family. What I wouldn''t give to have one last meal with them¡ªto hear the wild stories of my parents'' youth and listen to my sister''s dreams for her future. Laughter would fill our hut as we filled our bellies with roasted pork and sweet drink. I wiped my eyes and cleared my throat. The hollow man inside beckoned me to accept him; another begged me to surrender to the grief. One clung to hope, while another remained paralyzed with indecision. This was an odd loop, and I didn''t know why past memories haunted me so much. Heaviness clung to my thoughts; it slowed my breathing and stilted my desire. It would be helpful if I could recall anything out of the ordinary from the last loop. I remember fighting the last of the wolfbears and dying right at the end. My gut churned. Something was off. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. A light mist fell from the sky. I couldn''t recall if the storm was early or late. It couldn''t even be called a storm. "Tents?" Drops splashed on my shoulders, creating a tiny pool before trickling down my arm. "Cal, you there?" By the pale moon. I probably shouldn''t be alone right now. A breeze stirred up the little dust not damp enough to be left alone. The breeze pushed against me; it was so faint that I shouldn''t have been moved. "Hey, I could use some help about now," I said louder against the wind. "Even a put-down would be nice¡­" The flayen had been absent lately since a loop or two ago. Usually, I could sense Squid''s presence in the back of my mind like a persisting thought that hadn''t come to fruition. At the moment, the flayen had no presence. For the first time in my years of loneliness, I felt alone. Truly alone. I blamed this strange loop on the low starting point¡­ and Lana. She wasn''t innocent. Before she arrived, I had never suffered from this feeling. Lana unintentionally showed me my emptiness, and chasms in my soul became nothing more than cracks in time. A large part of my fulfillment had been ripped away with her demise. I could settle into my shop and sell the worst maps ever created. It would be so easy. The hurt I felt now would fade with time, bandaged by gaping numbness. Realistically speaking, I had no chance of bringing Lana or anyone back. Squids mentioned that with enough power, I might be able to, but that made little sense. What was I going to do? Move back time? Not even the fabled gods, with all their holy power, could do that. For all I knew, Squids could be blowing hot smoke. Yet, here I was, looking at my frozen body. Hope dangled before me. My dreams and reality were at odds. In my heart, I knew there was no possibility I could save us all¡ªthat I could save them, yet I held on to the sliver of hope. I defied reality by putting everything into delirious hope. After all, if there was any chance at all, why not take it? Hope drove me toward her. Hope wouldn''t allow me to let her go, and as long as I held on, I couldn''t be whole. My cracks would continue to spread. However, if I let go, I''d be swallowed by my depths¡ªlost again in a sea with no shore in sight. Hope was a blessing and a curse. I needed all of it because I was not letting go¡ªnot this time. Drifting through the storm of my thoughts, a hollow laughter mocked my weakness. It was soft at first; I could barely hear it. It grew as if encouraged by my shame. The laughter escaped the bounds of my mind, manifesting in a wild pack of riotous howling. The smell of blood and wet fur broke me from my trance. It must''ve been the entire pack of wolfbears that came to feast. I knew their numbers were large; I''d yet to see them all show up like this. Usually, they attacked in waves. This was a full-scale assault. Despite the odds, I felt calm. The cruelty of the fates led the wolfbears to me at this hour and in this state. It was not fair, and for that, I felt sorry. A chorus made the rounds through the taverns on the Agoria continent about my people''s tendency to get lost in the fog of battle. Be wary of brutes. Paths of hollowness paved, graves covered in gray. Of course, the words sounded much better coming from a bard. However, it lost its potency on tender lips. I summoned two claymores and raised them to the ready. The once heavy blades were light in my hand, no longer feeling awkward. I struck the air, working through the first three forms of the sword kata to get used to the new feeling, and returned them to the guard position. The wolfbears were nearly upon me; the stench of their fur fueled the fire that burned within. A guttural instinct urged me to temper the flame. I focused all my will on my core and commanded it to freeze. My soul turned to ice, spreading from my inner layers into my channels. As the frost spread, ice covered me in thick, light-blue armor. I had cast ice armor but had no time to celebrate. The first victim of an unfair fate bit at my feet. I spilled its blood as death''s gray mana covered its shallow grave. 27. Graves Covered in Gray Just as the first beast died, another latched onto my leg. Its powerful jaw couldn''t scratch my armor. I impaled the beast with my sword. I turned to my right, facing the next growler; my sword cleaved the body in half and carried through to the next wolf. A charging beast knocked me in my back, causing me to slide across the ground. I used the momentum to slay three more charging beasts. At the end of my slide, I set a new anchor, pulling myself away from the back basher, and severed its head. Another charger challenged my flank. My left claymore turned into a spear that I rammed into the beast''s belly. I left the spear in the beast and used my claymore with two hands. My dance became a fluid slaughter. Beasts charged, and I cut, spinning, dodging, and dicing. Blood steamed, turning the air foul. I repositioned to avoid the growing mound of death and to protect my frozen body; a dome covered my corpse, but I didn''t want a repeat of the last life. I was going to survive. Beasts swarmed my position, creating a circle around me. Dozens charged at a time, which I fought and slayed. While I killed the near threats, the surrounding wolfbears closed the circle. As more charged, the circle grew smaller. The wolfbears grew bolder by the bloodbath. The dead no longer piled up. They were quickly pulled out of the makeshift arena. I took multiple hits and bites to the body, none of which broke through my protection. My mana took a dip. I wasn''t worried. I''d cultivated enough while reflecting on a forgotten time that I could let the wolfbears chew on my frozen body for several hours. They were not strong enough to break my defenses. Still, I didn''t want to be a chew toy for the masses. I took a break from the slaughter and raised four curved ice walls. The four walls formed a circle, creating an arena of about twenty square feet. Between the walls, I left a gap of five feet, wide enough for the beefiest beast to get through and small enough that it was never more than one at a time. The last summoned wall of the four incorporated my ice dome so that I could keep my corpse safe. The ground froze, and fog filled the small space. A steady stream of beasts entered only to die. I had to make adjustments to my walls so that I could kick out the frozen chunks of flesh. The predators caught on to the game and waited by the smaller opening for a more leisurely meal. Not all could partake in the chilled beef buffet and took their chances with meals on ice. They shouldn''t have entered my space. I was a phantom in my mist. I had complete control of my movement and enough strength to quickly kill any challenger. Slaughter became a three-step process: cut, kill, kick. I killed over a thousand in my arena, and not once did my breathing feel labored or my muscles tired. My claymore was still light and fast in my hands, its edge sharpened by endless refinement. In this killing field, my movement with anchors became second nature. I didn''t have to focus so hard on a distant structure. I could think of where I wanted to be and slid to the spot. The more will I put behind the thought, the faster I slid. Even my armor became more familiar. I reduced the thickness, allowing more agility, and increased the hardness with a second round of core freezing. The lighter armor had a slick exterior that gleamed with a black pitch, and along with my aura, it radiated freezing temperature. The wolfbears learned I wasn''t a pleasant meal to bite. That didn''t stop them from trying. I lacerated the two running at me in half with a backslash. Four frozen blocks hit the ice. My foot nudged them to the exit, and I used the extended step to carry out my next heavy attack. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. As the sun turned away, the steady stream of participants died out. I dismissed the fog to encourage participation, and when that was no longer enough, I destroyed my walls. We were back to open field slaughter. The beasts I was facing were stronger now. These were the smart ones who stayed away and benefited from the free meals. The lowest rank among them was superior; most were grand. Their enthusiasm lasted only an hour, though none had the power to leave. The night grew darker, and only thirteen beasts remained, all at the epic rank. At epic rank, the wolfbears transformed. Their manes were distinct from the males, and the females had white tips on their fur. Their faces were narrow and looked less like chunky bears and more wolfish. Their bodies rippled with muscle. They were strong before; now, they were grossly muscled. I couldn''t tell if it was my hunger that thought their grotesque build looked tasty or if I''d been twisted by the dance of death. I''d find out before the end of the night. The elites circled me with caution. The howling laughter was replaced with a quick chatter that I assumed called out tactics. A wolfbear charged from the side. I could tell it wasn''t committed to the attack by the look in its eye¡ªa feint. I gave the bear the attention it wanted, waiting for the right moment. I felt the attack coming from my right, but I kept my eyes on the beast charging straight for me. It darted at the last moment just outside my reach. Another wolfbear was charging behind it. In their clever approach, the larger male hid the smaller female. Instead of one surprise attack, I faced two. I stepped back, rotating at the waist. It looked like I swung at the wolfbear running away. I strengthened the follow-through motion and cut the head off the bear charging my flank. My momentum carried my blade up high in position for another swing. I stepped out of the way and executed a diagonal slash. The second attacker managed two steps with the help of momentum before falling apart. The chatter stopped. Ten elite wolfbears looked at me in terror. There was no more laughter or attempts of intimidation. Not a single one dared to growl. The first whimper was quieter than a whisper. Like an infestation, the lowly cry spreads into the hearts of the remaining beasts. The song of the solo whimper turned into a chorus of fearful howls. Tails tucked, the beasts turned and fled. I stifled my laugh. I stood as the lone victor in battle. One victory wasn''t enough¡ªnot this loop. In this loop, I was solving the mystery of the wolfbears. Three lives ago, I wouldn''t have been able to keep up with the elite beasts. Their claws tore into the ground, and each lunge propelled them twenty feet. They would land and lunge again. I forced mana into a direction and stayed on their tail. It didn''t matter how fast they ran; I was faster. Typically, beasts wouldn''t lead threats to their home. I figured these elites were no different. Once I got to the forest, I found their track and let them slip away. The new hunt had begun. Tracking and hunting beasts were skills that I was confident in. While the youth in Kukoa were learning to cultivate, I helped my parents find food in the sparse hunting grounds of the high forests. The high mountains offered little where life flourished on lower mountains and below. We had to get creative, and at a young age, I honed my technique. My technique continued to grow as I took on scouting roles as a regular and marine. Even as a cartographer, I kept the practice alive. It was in that business that my skill blossomed. I adapted to different environments and learned how to read their secrets. The tales were never prominent: a broken limb on the ground, a hidden path, scratched bark, uprooted plants. Rarely did clever beasts leave behind prints. Wolfbears, even the elites, weren''t among the clever. If I kept my eyes closed, I could follow their trail. They didn''t even scatter to throw me off. They stayed as a pack and ran straight, excluding the swerving for trees. I had no fear of the trail growing cold. I did, however, fear my growing hunger and the exposed state I left my body. The hunt could wait another hour or two. It would put the beasts at ease anyway if they were still worried about me chasing. 28. The Hunt I spent the next two hours processing some meat of an elite beast and hiding my frozen corpse. The corpse hiding was the least time-consuming of the two tasks. I scaled a tree and created an ice hut in the thick branches. The tiny house turned out much cooler than I planned, which made me a bit jealous of the dead guy and the sweet living conditions I set him up in. That was until I filled the entire house with ice, further freezing the frozen man in a solid cube. A shiver ran down my spine as I thought of the man in ice confined to his prison. Once the wolfbear drained of blood, I cut off the back straps of meat, started a fire, and roasted the beef. The rich aroma filled my campsite, tempting me to dine early. The lingering delicious scent made me grateful that I made dinner plans several hundred yards away from my ice house. There was no way this wasn''t going to attract attention. As the beef roasted, I scavenged for side dishes. It took only a few minutes to wind up with a collection of herbs, wild onions, mushrooms, and berries. The Bloodswoods continued to be a bountiful forest. I cooked up the rest of my dinner and finally ate when the meat was charred outside. It was delicious. More than that, my mouth watered with every bite. It didn''t make sense. The flavors countered the nature of spirit beasts. The stronger they got, the grosser their meat became. Scholars theorized that it was because they were becoming closer to awakening, so naturally, they wouldn''t taste good. Not many people countered that argument for fear of being labeled cannibals and ostracized from all social events, especially ones involving food. Of course, there were counters to the theory, not so much theoretical as cultivational. Some devoted cultivators believed they would progress faster if they consumed the entire spirit beast. These people were closely associated with the foulest types of cultivators¡ªvampires. More myth than legend, no one wanted to believe vampires were real. They were wrong. Vamps existed and were proof consumption led to power. But that was no excuse to devour anything that pulsed with energy. Another round of shivers crawled down my spine, and I rubbed a rogue itch out of my neck. Thinking of the foul-blood lords was almost enough to ruin my appetite. I quickly devoured my dinner¡ªsparing the blood fangs no further thoughts, stretched, cleaned up camp, and then got to hunting. I had a full belly, comfort in security, and was only three hours behind my wolfbears. The tracks were still fresh and easy to follow. I held Snowpiercer in my hand while I hunted. The old habit was a comfort I didn''t care to eliminate. It felt so right to track and hunt with the bow in hand. It was like an extension of the body, an extra sense, or a focus that kept the mind narrowed on the signs of the beast, and it kept me balanced as I sprinted through the forest. With a bow in hand, falling or getting lost was hard. My footsteps fell silent on the forest ground mixed with roots, twigs, dry leaves, and shrubs. Unlike the wolfbears tearing into their path, I left no trace. Water aura projected around me, erasing my scent and reducing my presence. Stalking did not remove me from the picture like invisibility, but it was close. I tracked the beasts'' trail at an incredible pace as if their presence pulled me toward them. We crossed miles of forest, sometimes following game trails but mostly forging new ones. The path looped back several times, and a couple of times, the pack of ten split up. The hesitation that I picked the wrong path was erased when the trails united a few miles later. I might''ve been unfair in my earlier assessment of the beasts'' cleverness. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The elite beasts ran at least thirty miles before they slowed their pace. Instead of deep claws tearing through flora and roots, lighter prints placed closer together were left behind. It was near an overgrowth similar to the one that hid the spring where I lost the trail. I inspected the wall of vines of leaves, looking for a sign of passage. The wall remained intact¡ªcompletely unscathed. If it were smaller beasts passing through, I''d understand the green wall left undamaged. These weren''t small beasts. They weren''t even small bears. They were massive, thick animals whose presence couldn''t be contained no matter how hard they tried. The ground couldn''t support their weight, and trees weren''t durable enough to resist scratches when the wolfbears passed. So, it made no sense that their trail ended at the wall, and the wall showed no sign of entrance. Not even the pungy scent of their fur lingered. The mystery ended when I placed my hand on the wall, and it disappeared. My hand parted the wall to a swirling purple and green energy vortex. The energy radiated a chaotic nature that didn''t soothe well in this forest. In fact, I couldn''t recall encountering a mana that was so foreign. All mana elements had varying paths attributed to the primary source¡ªwater and ice, fire and smoke, earth and nature. However, all the branched paths connected with their root element. Ice didn''t exist without water. This law applied to all branches no matter how far they obscured from their primary energy. The rippling energy before me gave off a hint of a parent element. It was not of this world. Portals from other worlds were not an obscure idea. Generally, every adventurer knew that Helm was connected to several different worlds. Most of the time, these worlds were not even aware of the connections and it was just spirit beasts wandering by that would walk into a new world. Sometimes an entire city developed between these connected points. Though developed cities were rare occasions. The majority of nexus points only served to host beasts. Beasts thrived in these in-between realms¡ªdungeons. Scholars didn''t know precisely how dungeons were created. Some argued that lingering tendrils of mana connected worlds and created pathways between them. Others believed dungeons served as the creators'' way of seeding conflict into worlds. These were the two larger schools of thought. The less popular third reason, and the idea I tended to agree with, was that mana just did what it felt like. Mana paved its own path, creating its own nature and residing there until it needed a new home and identity. As much as cultivators tried to confine mana to one element or label it to an identity, that just wasn''t the case. Mana was as wild and free as any chaotic source, and as such, it left a wake of chaos behind. Dungeons were mysterious, but they weren''t uncommon. Many adventures made a living exploring dungeons. Hell, I sold beginner maps of the weaker dungeons to new adventurers. My time in the military and with Lana''s party even involved a handful of dungeon runs. Those times were the exception. I didn''t like dungeons and generally avoided them. Sure, loot and power were all possible gains. However, the cost of failure proved to be too high. I pushed my hand deeper into the portal. The energy parted like water as my hand passed through, and a chill ran through my hand and then my arm. I swiped my invisible hand on the other side, checking for dangers lurking on the other side. I hit nothing, which improved my confidence that the other side was a trap by zero. I stuck my other arm through and felt around, getting the same lackluster result. Next, I pulled my arms out and shoved a leg through. The caution was growing ridiculous. I wasn''t scared per se; I just didn''t feel like surprises. It was that kind of day. I swiped left and right again with my leg before pulling it out. I held my breath, counted to three, summoned the courage of a coward, and dashed shoulder-first to the other side. I tripped at once. The momentum of my shoulder charge carried me over the edge and into a pit of bones. My skin crawled in disgust, and I was pretty sure something crawled on me, sending rapid shivers down my spine. Tiny pincers plunged into my skin. I cursed and scrambled to get to my feet. The bones proved unreliable footing or any source of stability, and as I shifted to escape, I sank deeper. Drowning in bones and eaten alive became a fear I didn''t know I had. The deliverer be damned and his cost of courage. 29. The Cost of Courage I pushed out my aura and washed my body with water several times. A few biters washed away, but a few still held on with their sharp jaws and wormed their way into my skin. I wanted to scream, but my mouth was somewhat buried. I washed more mana over me and then froze my core, covering my skin in frost armor that dissipated when I charged into the other side. An ice shell froze around my exterior, breaking jaws and freezing critters. I felt relieved when the bugs digging into my arms, legs, and stomach were halted. The relief barely held together when I realized I still had the bugs inside me. I wanted to dismiss my armor and tear the bugs off of me. The constant tapping of thousands of feet on my ice skin and the clanking of pincers forbade me from doing so. Though I was protected by my layer of ice, I kept my mouth and eyes closed. A new fear woke inside of me when I felt a slight itch in my ear. I tried to keep calm, but as the itch grew, my panic became frantic. Was it in my head? It was in my head¡­ I had to get out, but the more I tried, the faster I sank. I tried to enlist the quicksand strategy of spreading out. That worked to excite the crawlers further, and as they picked at my shell, my mana slowly trickled at a constant pace. My ear twitched. I screamed. Out. Out. Out. I forced out as much mana as I dared to spare in the direction that I hoped to be below me. Ice layered and built upwards. The bones rolled and crumbled around me, completely submerging me. I pushed mana faster and felt myself rise above the death pit. Bones fell off like water, but the critters remained persistent. The itch near my ears was definitely a crawler. Its mouth reached inside my ear canal, thumping loudly on the side with its pincers. I needed to rip off my armor and tear the crawler out of my head. I stomped on the ice platform, creating a mush of ichor and guts. The crawlers paid no attention to the slaughter and climbed up my body. Foolishly, I thought my ice armor would freeze or slow them down. They seemed to be immune to the cold. I washed myself with a wave of water in another attempt to dispel the crawling scourge. It got rid of hundreds. Still, thousands clung on with their razor vice grips and tore into my armor. More had already climbed up my torso, and I could hear the tapping on my back between the constant scratching in my ear. A pop rang in my head. Lancing pain in my left ear doubled me over. I bent my head and covered my ear to reduce the deep hurt. The critter continued to crawl inward. I couldn''t hold back any more screams. This was worse than fire. Fire¡­ What did I know about fire? The thought fleeted as fast as it entered my mind. This was no fire. Agony had a name, and it devoured my mind. Between my screams of madness, I poured more water out of my body, creating a fine mist. The mist spread away from me as I reduced the temperature. A cold flash was made, and as I added more mist and lowered its structural activity, the temperature dropped tremendously. I continued to repeat the process. The buggers might be immune to cold; I was betting that they couldn''t endure sub-freezing levels. Hold on. Just a little longer. The bugs latching onto my body fell first. It was barely a relief. My ear rang, fire filled my head, and claws dug deeper. My eyes were tightly shut, and my breaths were irregular. I dismissed my armor and clawed into my bleeding ear with my fingers. My index and thumb reached deep enough that I snatched a lingering leg of the crawler. I held onto sweet salvation with all the strength my fingers could muster. With delicate patience, I pulled on the leg. At the point of tension, I reduced my pull to the gentlest amount of force. It took all my control to keep my hand from shaking and even more to not just yank out the critter. Waves of light and pain flashed through my mind. I kept my hand still and caressed the crawler out. The crawler stopped moving forward. It held its position in my canal. I gave its leg a soft tug, causing it to take a step. Another tug, another step. A tiny prick of another back leg tickled my fingers. I debated whether I needed to regrip the legs or continue with what was working. The courage to gamble on a better grip wasn''t present. I eased another tug on the leg. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Snap. All the resistance I had in my fingers evaporated as a new spike of pain erupted. In a last attempt to rid myself of the foul fiend, I sent a spike of ice through my ear. In hindsight, I made a lot of mistakes on my first jungle dungeon run. The first mistake, which was a glaring one, was the head-down, leg-forward approach. I took so much time being careful and blew the execution. It was a terrible mistake that cost me my life¡­ and probably will rob me of peaceful moments. Even now, away from the bug pit, I couldn''t stop my body from shaking. There was no pain in my ear, but I couldn''t stop the phantom ringing noises. The second mistake was being too aggressive with my ice spike. Though, I''d argue that it was an all-or-nothing scenario. I didn''t mean to end my life like that. But there was no way I''d be left with my sanity if I let the critter continue to crawl. My biggest mistake, though it was impossible to know before venturing forward, was not bringing enough fire to scorch the infested dungeon. The mistake wouldn''t happen again. I ignored everything around my recursion point except for my piked body. With my frozen self in my hand, I headed straight into the bloodwoods. The path to the dungeon remained fresh in my mind. With enough luck, I could locate it in an hour or two. It took four hours to locate the dungeon. As one who prided himself as a mapmaker and navigator, the dungeon left me humbled. True, the wolfbears led me all around the forest, crossing paths several times before heading to their home. That didn''t justify a whole hour of me getting lost on my own. I was disappointed, to say the least, and grateful this didn''t happen while I was on guide duty. The tongue lashings a guide received for getting lost were cruel and cut deep. Their ratings would absolutely tank in the tourist industry. People mocked my maps for being made up; they didn''t understand the genius at play. It''s hard to get lost following a map if details are made on the fly. Every step forward became a step in the right direction. Getting lost wasn''t the only thing guides had to worry about. Camp maintenance rested upon their shoulders, which involved securing camp, setting it up, keeping it clean, and taking it down. Stormy night of sleep on the tour¡­ take it up with the tour guide. Terrible food¡ªterrible tour guide. No food? Also a tour guide problem. Tour wasn''t fun? Tour guide. People dying¡­ tour guide. It was a toxic industry, which is why I mostly sold maps and only guided when I needed to prove my maps were legitimate or was short on money. The fact of the matter was that tour guides, like people, made mistakes. The biggest mistake is not allowing the error to happen in the first place. Perfect people think they have it all figured out. They were lying to themselves. They played it safe and learned nothing. Faulty people coincidently were the game changers. They embraced their faults and strived to do better. My thoughts ran a bit wild while I tied my frozen body to a tree. Tying, in this case, meant using more ice to create another ice fortress off the ground. Mistakes ran through my mind as I gathered suitable sticks for torches and created fire. I knew I needed to be smarter, I should be smarter. My mind was at rank nine. It was as high as it could get without reforging. The problem was that I had the capacity to be brilliant but lacked the ability to do so. I wish I was smart. I was by no means stupid, but I was nowhere near the clever wizards, bards, or scholars. I had my experiences, and sometimes, most of the time, I made the right choices. It was the few times of lousy decision-making that really weighed on me. I was missing something but couldn''t place what it was. Despite my mental fortitude, I didn''t doubt my strategy. Getting stronger was the best bet for my goals, and body cultivation was the fastest path to take without putting my mind at risk of possession. "Do better. Be better." These were the words I latched onto to pull myself out of the pit of self-deprecation. On the path of progress, it was OK not to be perfect. I lit my torch, felt through the nexus of energy, and stepped into the other side. 30. Into the Dungeon The torch did wonders for my visibility. The entrance to the dungeon was a path that turned three feet from the portal, which ran parallel to the entrance for as far as I could see. The path was raised dirt that created a walkway about six feet wide. The path was well-worn. There was no safe wall along the route; instead, it cut off, leading to a drop-off. Fools rushing into the dungeon would overstep the small landing and fall off the side. I couldn''t see below the path, but I knew well enough what was there. The closer I looked at the ground, the more evidence I could find of the multi-leg crawlers below. My skin itched, and my ears ached. A part of me feared being here and wanted to leave through the door. I ignored the prodding to leave and summoned all the courage I could in the form of my ice armor. At least now that I was covered, I should be safe from the bugs. I lit three torches and dropped them below. The fire exposed the landing wall as it plunged into the darkness. The ground was further away than I thought. My guess was that the torches fell thirty feet below. The entire ground was covered in bones. The hundred-leg crawlies screeched as they fled from the light leaving only a bone covered field to be seen. This place would be a paler''s paradise. The mad death cultivators would probably reanimate the dead and throw a party of some sort. Then, they''d order their minions to create an immaculate castle, which they''d sell for millions of credits. Deliverer damned cheats. The whole lot of them. I threw one more torch below for good measure and then followed the path. The path ran in the same direction for a mile before it turned right and doubled in width. I stuck to the middle and walked cautiously for another four miles before coming to a tunnel that cut left. The path I''m on continued beyond the tunnel, though, leaving me with a choice. The tunnel was big enough that I could walk through without bending or turning, but it wasn''t wide enough for a wolfbear to fit through, at least none of the beasts I''d encountered. Go with the known or step into the unknown? I considered the option for a minute, then continued on the main path. I could fight wolfbears. I wasn''t ready for another pit of insects or something worse. I''d need more confidence before I tackled that. The path stretched on for another mile in a gradual decline. When I reached the bottom, I was on the same level as all the bones and crawlers. That didn''t bring me any peace or add to my confidence in my decision. Massive walls still directed my path; I could walk toward the death pits or head in the opposite direction. The choice was simple, and this time, it didn''t come down to a lack of courage. I was being clever. When given the choice, avoid death and bugs. -The Guide''s Guidebook to Guiding, chapter seven. The initial rocky interior of the ground transformed as I traveled deeper. Life sprouted from the ground and walls. The musty scent of moss lingered on a cool breeze that blew into my face. Subtle rays of light reached through darkness and connected to the glow of my flickering flame. Vines filled cracks, and ferns sprouted wherever they could. The musty scent eventually faded, overcome by the lush smells of life. Another mile and I no longer stood in a cave. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. A distant light, softer than the sun but brighter than a fire, filled the jungle cavern before me. Colorful flowers dotted the landscape. Some peeking out of the undergrowth, others hanging from trees. The trees were nothing like the bloodwoods. They were half as thick, which was still thick for a tree, and they did not defy the heavens with their growth. As far as trees were concerned, they stood at an average height. Their dark green leaves were wide and thick, almost looking fabricated, and vines tangled throughout branches and hung low. The air was fresh, and the mana was thick with life, earth, and water. A bird flew over my head, its colors bright, and its beak long and insidious. It disappeared into the canopy, and a chaos of chirping erupted from where it ended up, which happened to be where I was walking. It only took a few steps into the jungle to realize I wasn''t alone. The fluttering of birds in the distance, their chattering back and forth, or the chirping of insects set me off. I had a distinct feeling that something watched me¡ªnot just watched but stalked me. I kept my senses open; my eyes actively scanned every direction. I trusted nothing and was proven right when one of the beautiful hanging flowers turned into a mouth filled with teeth and lunged for my face. I stepped back, avoiding the face snatcher, and grabbed the vine''s base below the flower. The devouring plant snatched at me despite its inability to escape my hold. I summoned a machete of ice and severed the plant. The vine withered and whipped, recoiling back into the safety of the dense canopy. The flower continued biting for another moment before wilting into black ash, and its dust turned into a toxic green mist. I stepped away from the cloud, avoiding its foulness and the other lurching flowers. My actions of preservation didn''t seem to impress my stalker. Instead, it fueled it with a new courage. The lightest step sounded behind the tree to the left of me. I didn''t dare look and kept moving forward, avoiding all plants and sticking to the natural path. Five steps deeper, my foot landed in a mushy, wet ground. I pulled my foot back. Before I could place it back down, I had to dive into the mush. A black cat with fangs on the top and bottom of its mouth flew over where my back once was. It turned its body mid-air and slashed at me, but its momentum carried it outside of its reach, causing it to miss. The panther didn''t sink into the marshy waters when it landed. The cat''s feet were as large as the jungle leaves, allowing it to land in the mush like it was solid ground. The cat took a step, its curved dagger-like claws sliced through the muddy ground and severed a fallen vine. Glowing green eyes locked onto me. I sensed the cat sizing me up and picking apart my weaknesses. It took another silent step. Obsidian-black fur absorbed the surrounding darkness. The panther nearly vanished before my eyes. Its body lurched and hovered close to the ground as it took another step. A high-pitched scream wailed behind me. I refused to look. The panther lunged with its daggers extended just as a flower bit down I Ignored the frozen flower, summoned a spear, and pointed it toward the cat. The panther tried to abandon its flight. Its eyes opened wide, and its teeth gritted. It managed to half-turn its body. The maneuver delivered my stalker''s side into my spear. My weapon sank deep, injecting ice into the veins of the beast. As it slid down the length of the spear, its body froze. I left the cat on my spear, summoned another machete, and cut the frozen flower head from its vine. The vine, bitten by my frost, slowly pulled away. I had to pry the flower from my shoulder. Its teeth left marks in my armor but were not deep enough to pierce my skin. Unlike the insects at the cave entrance, the jungle flowers and cats didn''t seem resistant to my ice. It was a small comfort. I repaired my armor, washed off the muck, and primed my senses for more threats. 31. The Jungles Maw I took another two steps before a tree-thick vine attacked me. It whipped and hissed and tried to trap me with its body that could bend as lithely as the pouncing panther. I dodged the body and came face to face with a serpent. Its wide-opened mouth swallowed my head. The body of the vine I so expertly dodged before took advantage of my disadvantaged state and coiled around me. Pressure from the closing mouth threatened to crush my head as fangs scraped the side. I was trapped like a sucker. The serpent''s muscles constricted, vices around me tightened, and my mana sapped away at an alarming rate. I couldn''t breathe. Nor could I move. I hated snakes. They were gross, too. The serpent spawn of Ao''s foulest pits'' only purpose was to sow discomfort, and they were master sowers. All of Helm could turn to ash, and the Soggy sticks would still slither with a steaming bitter odor while hissing their insidious praises¡ªtongues lapping the air like they were buddies. No one was buddies with serpents. Some may be fooled by their unholy aura, mistaking it for power; they were fools and deserved to be devoured. I didn''t trust the devils and still ended up exactly where they wanted me. Ao be damned, and his pit shredded refuse. I gambled the remaining mana I had left and forced spikes all around my body. Necessity and stubbornness to not die led to the improvised attack. I''d be no easy meal for the serpent munching on my head. I was a puffer fish, no, I was a frozen cactus, a porcupine of pain, and I refused to die inside one of Ao''s contorted tongues. Not now. Now ever. I enforced my budding spikes with more mana and commanded them to grow. The muscles around my body relaxed. My moment of victory crashed down as the serpent, and I fell from the top of the tree. I had no idea the snake climbed so high. In fact, I didn''t know how high it climbed. I just knew the distance I dropped, and the speed at which I fell did not add up to the five or ten feet off the ground I initially guessed when I was being consumed. I prepared for a hard impact. My flat back slapped into the viscous fluid below, shattering the remains of my mana and my armor. The entire body of the snake landed right on top of me, its weight pushing me below the waters. Not like this. I reached for my mana within. I could freeze the swamp and stop my descent. There was no mana left. That couldn''t be right. I rarely ran out of mana. In fact cultivators could cast all kinds of spells and tire of throwing spells long before they bottomed out. I should still have some. My face was an inch from being submerged. I reached again. My mana was gone. I tried to move out from under the demon. Its body proved to be too massive and heavy. I was stuck in the mud, and the dead snake refused to move. I kept fighting despite my body''s inability to move. I kept my neck stiff, refusing to let my head fall underneath the water. I gained no ground, but I wasn''t losing any either. In my perilous state, I scrambled for a solution. My only option was to fight with all my neck muscles and cultivate the lingering water mana. I didn''t need much. A small amount would do. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Survival became a race of gathering power and my waning endurance. My neck burned with the pain of being overworked. Veins enlarged and threatened to pop. I was pretty sure the ones on my face gave me a sliver of wiggle room, but that could be thoughts of the desperate. Water mana trickled into my soul at the speed of a crawling caterpillar. As I harvested power, each drip brought me closer to salvation and death. It was slow and painful. All I needed was a little bit more. My teeth clenched so tight I didn''t know if I''d be able to open my mouth again or if I''d have leftover teeth. The mud pulled me in deeper; the shift in my body position added extra strain on my neck and head. Whatever leverage I had, I lost. Still, I kept my head above the mud. Well¡­ most of my head. The puddles of muck lapped at my lips. Luckily, it couldn''t get through, not with all the pressure I endured. Unfortunately, despite my headstrong efforts, my body slowly sank. Come on. I mentally prodded the mana along. A few more drops were all I needed before I could pull the mana into my channels. My lips were halfway underwater. I need a couple drops more. I got a gross whiff of the swamp before it tickled my nose. The warning did nothing to soften the blow. A terrible itching sensation festered. I forced heavy air through my nose, attempting to scratch the itch. Ripples of water rolled away, colliding into a section of the snake, and rebounded. A new wave of a swamp washed over my nose. I breathed in at the wrong moment, and all hell broke loose. My eyes watered, my nose burned, and I was on the edge of sneezing. The act would surely break me. I let the burn fester as I pulled in enough mana. The process of cycling water required a constant pull of the energy inside my core. I pulled and pulled. With each pull, the mana inched to the edge of my core. At the wall of the core, I picked up the intensity of my pulling and urged the mana into my channels. Energy rushed into my body like it had burst through a dam. I no longer needed to prod the mana; now that it flowed, I only needed to guide. Power accumulated at my fingertip, which was already underwater. With only a thought, I connected the mud puddle to my mana. Through connection, I slowed the energy down. At the last second, two sneezes broke free. I lost my focus as the pond froze. My body stopped sinking. The snake tree-sized body sandwiched my nose to the ice. The crater of ice created a pocket, allowing me to breathe. I no longer fell, and my head felt a new layer of support. Overall, I''d call it a surmounting victory. Now that death wasn''t a breath away, I could focus on escape. I had no clue how to get out of this mess. Part of me was convinced I couldn''t. More power was the only solution. For several hours, I cultivated mana in the worst cultivation position I''d experienced. I refroze my body when I had enough energy to add some reprieve to my neck. Mana continued to trickle into my core as I chewed through ideas. The solution I ended with was similar to my last life when I was drowning in bones. This time, however, it required much more mana to create a solid base, which meant more cultivation and endurance. I stayed faithful to the task and inched my way out of the swamp one layer at a time. I rolled my body out from under the severed snake in a tired and enthusiastic motion. Once free, I rested on my back for a while. The freaking jungle was out to kill me, and I wasn''t on my best ranger game. I wasn''t even on my best guide game... and that bar was levels below my ranger game. I needed to do better if I wanted to get anything meaningful from this dive. Damn it. I needed to be better. Progression, sometimes, felt like a real bastard. I recovered by the snake for another hour, regaining composure and accumulating mana. I managed to cultivate enough mana to fill my first and second layers. That would have to be enough for now. The jungle was growing tired of waiting. 32. Cutting Shortcuts Sabertooth panthers challenged me on my iced pond one by one. The black cats hid well in the jungle and could not be found until they readied their attack. I stood my ground by the fallen snake and battled each cat. The fights required quick reflexes. Instead of a battle of strength, the battle was determined by speed and durability. The panthers had speed. I had durability. After a few rounds, I became accustomed to their attack patterns and how they could maneuver their body as if it was a separate link. Their speed became less of an advantage, and I was accumulating mana instead of losing it. Their deaths honed my technique with a blade. When I needed a break, I switched to my bow and dispersed mist over a small area. I battled over a hundred of the night prowlers, a couple more snakes, and a host of flowers. The Ao''s limp noodles weren''t nearly as bad now that I treated every vine as a demon. Step, search, and slay became my pattern. Trees fell in my path. The concept of time didn''t exist in this realm. The light was constant and didn''t seem to diminish. Judging by my tiredness and hunger, I''d been inside for an entire day. I needed to rest, but as a precaution, I waited at least an hour from my last battle before allowing myself to sit and relax. I needed a break and food. Dinner was a mix of cat, snake, and red moss with energy-enhancing properties. Fire moss tended to favor humid environments. Besides the moss, the snake and cat were bland. That didn''t stop me from eating my fill and smoking some meat for later. I gathered all the cores I could process from the cats and snakes, created a pack, and worked on freeze-bangs. My break lasted another couple of hours. By then, my muscles had recovered, my mana was at a safe level, and I had plenty of freeze bangs for all the forest shenanigans. At least, I hoped so. It was time to get back to rangering. I crouched low, bow in my hand, and senses stretched out. My ears tracked any movement, and my eyes were alert. Bogs had a faint-moldy smell to them, which I now paid attention to and either altogether avoided or froze them before proceeding. Panthers also had cues that I caught onto as I explored the jungle. They were mouth breathers¡ªno better than the loudmouth mountaineers in the mountains. Sure, they weren''t as loud as the mountaineers. I honestly don''t think anyone could make that claim. As far as silent hunters were concerned, these cats were basically calling out their position. The snakes were no better. They had a nasty habit of leading with their body. It was a great surprise tactic the first dozen times. Who wouldn''t jump at a thin, slimy vine trying to rope you? After that, they became bloody predictable and exposed. Nothing more than a vine before a machete, an obstacle to cut through and get around. Oversized rats were a welcome surprise when they arrived. Like the wolfhounds, they came in packs of hundreds and were the size of dogs. They didn''t rely on ambushing techniques. Instead, they brute-forced their opponent with their numbers. I encountered a pack stripping a vine snake of its flesh when I first encountered them. The rats leaped at their new meal. Freeze-bangs and a hammer defeated the scourge. About one in ten rats had a core. I wasted a few minutes figuring out which rats were enlightened or not. The trick was their ears. The enlightened rats had longer ears that were sharp to a point. Once that was sorted, refilling my freeze bangs was simple. The jungle, though massive, was filled with few surprises. I continued to explore until I reached the end of the realm. A wall of vines and trees created a barrier as thick as the cavern walls. I followed the wall for a time, sticking to the outskirts of the jungle. There were a few snakes and rat packs out here. The snakes never attacked; they remained nested high on the wall. On the other hand, the rats were twice as aggressive when they were outside the jungle, and they came in different varieties. I thought fire-breathing rats would be the extent of surprises. I was wrong. There were spiked rats, water rats, toxic rats, and a bunch of dead walking rats¡ªwhich were immune to ice attacks unless the ice attack was the hammering type. Hammers were more effective on the dead rats than on the frozen rats. I think it was their tendency to bunch together and that their malnourished bodies were mostly bone. Some were closer to skeletons than beasts as the fur had rotted off the body. They were like walking gemstones with how vibrant the cores inside of them glowed. That was the other peculiar detail about skelly rats; all of them had a core. I found common, superior, and one grand core in the pile of bones. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. The barrier eventually led back into the forest. I knew it was leading back into the jungle and not that I completed a full loop around the cavern because the paces didn''t add up. It was a mapper''s intuition. There should''ve been another three miles of wall walking before the barrier curved around. I didn''t want to return to the jungle just yet. I took another break to cultivate and snack. Then created an ice barrier and napped. I woke up refreshed and anxious for some physical labor. I worked through my list of katas, starting with stretching and working through the body, mind, and spirit and ending with sword forms. As bad as my sword technique was, I still obsessed over the weapon. Part of the obsession I attribute to childhood fantasies and unmet desires. It was crazy how parts of the past stuck with you. After my katas, I summoned a wood cutter''s ax and got to chopping. As predicted, the ax cut deep into the vines and branches¡ªeach swing cut several bands that whipped away due to tight tension. The cutting became cathartic, and before long, I dripped with sweat, and my heart pounded hard against my chest. I wiped the sweat away with my left hand, flicked the beads away, and chopped. Creating shortcuts was a secret technique of an efficient guide master. Customers loved shortcuts. They didn''t care that they were getting less experience; customers were happy to get what they paid for faster. I was no guide master, but I had bouts of laziness that would impress the most productive guide. One of these proud moments was chopping through the wall instead of walking to the entrance somewhere in the forest. Never walk around when one can walk through, and likewise, never walk through what one should walk around. That was a messy chapter in the guidebook that led to many arguments in the Guide''s Guild. However, even the most fervent pathwalker would agree that this wall was absolutely a through moment. I cut through six feet of vines, branches, logs, leaves, and snakes. I felt like a validated champion when I broke through the other side. I might''ve even tossed my sturdy ax in a moment of celebration. There was a lot of doubt and disbelief I had to cut through to get here. At one point, I started questioning everything I knew and believed in. Quitings for quitters, I''d argue. Quitters finished first, I''d counter. Damn. I''d land in a stupor of thought and keep chopping. None of that mattered now. To the victor goes the spoils. My spoils were a shortcut to a better path. I reached the other side, and¡­ I was no longer in a jungle. Beside the wall I cut through, there was no hint of jungle. I stood in a medium-sized cavern in classic cavern style. The ceiling was about twenty feet over my head. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, a few still dripping. Dark mana prevailed in the air, with earth and a hint of water. Life mana, which was so abundant on the other side, couldn''t be felt on this side. The cavern smelled moldy, and the dripping water landed with a plop in stagnant water. I could almost hear the ripples. Besides a few stalagmites and puddles, there was nothing else on the floor. I don''t know what I expected. A treasure chest filled with a majestic sword was too lofty of a dream. A dungeon boss would have been predictable. Emptiness, now that was a surprise. I had a newfound respect for the empty lair. That was the secret power of shortcuts; with less time for buildup, you were less prone to disappointment. I lingered in the empty room, adopting my traversing technique of hugging the wall and exploring. The lair was as empty on the opposite side as where I entered. In a bold attempt to tempt fate, I kicked over a stalagmite. Kicking tiny towers turned out to be more rewarding than chopping branches. I gave in to my demons and leveled the entire city. After my grounded rampage, I looked above and began assaulting the heavens. Dust kicked up when I stepped to the middle of the room to admire my renovations. The mighty had fallen, and only one remained. "Who dares to defy me?" I asked the empty room. The only response was my echo. There was a good reason adventures weren''t supposed to dungeon alone. A group of level heads stayed level longer. My justification was that it was a satirical indulgence. Sometimes, it felt good to let go, and when you were alone, letting go had no limits. "Behold my power. And Despair." I finished my tirade with my arms spread out, standing in the classic power pose. The room truly was empty. Nothing reacted to my taunting, and I was more than surprised. I was impressed. Well played, empty room. Well played. I washed the dust from my frozen armor and walked to my entrance. A quick glance outside revealed no waiting rats or insects. Not far from my entrance was the tunnel that led into the lair. Why not? I abandoned my path and chose a new exit. 33. Throaty Roots Crouched and bow held at the ready, I stepped out of the empty lair. The tunnel leading out was like the walls, woven with vines and branches. My senses stretched out. What was I missing? I stepped slowly, pausing between each step and listening. The cautious stepping turned out to be a long, boring mile. The end was nowhere in sight, and I was convinced I wasn''t walking in a straight path. It was gradual, but the path curved to the right. Based on my observation outside of the tunnel, the curve should have been to the left. Step, pause, lis¡ªthe ground rumbled, walls shook, and the light at the end of the tunnel faded. The tunnel constricted its walls, closing in. The path in front of me shut off. I turned to flee and found my retreat blocked as well. I summoned a dome of ice and reinforced it with all the mana I could pump into it. As the tunnel collapsed on my shell, I added pillars of support. Water pooled at my feet. I didn''t fear puddles. If anything, it would be a source of power. The water absorbed back into the ground, replaced by tendrils of roots reaching out. A flower bloomed on the ground. I screamed because it felt like the correct response. The monster plant sunk its teeth into my skin, froze and shattered. More flowers blossomed. I covered the ground in ice, creating a barrier. The tenacious life found a way to get through. Pressure outside my shell created cracks in my barrier. If I forced in more mana, my support pillars would crumble. A vine wrapped my leg. Another flower bit into my back. This biter didn''t freeze, and neither did the next three. I couldn''t tear them off. My hands were placed on my shell. I was trying to keep it from shattering. The pressure from all sides proved to be too much. I collapsed just as ice shattered around me. I didn''t even manage to scream.
That wasn''t a terrible way to die. The dying part wasn''t great; it never was. Nothing quite screamed failure louder. I lowered my hand and stepped out of my puddle. There was no time to waste. I had a tunnel to kill¡­ I woke up with my hand stretched out, my scream still fresh in my mouth. Why were there bugs in the tunnel? There were no bugs in the tunnel¡­ I needed fire¡­ The trick was getting enough fire¡­ The entire jungle needed to burn¡­ Jungles, unlike forests, weren''t susceptible to fire. The solution was to bring the forest with me¡­ I need a better method to haul a lot of wood¡­ Damn snakes¡­ Damn crawlers¡­ And damn the rat bastard king¡­ And damn the jungle tunnel... That wasn''t even a real boss. The dungeon had me beat twelve to zero, and I was no closer to earning that one than when I first stepped through the barrier. Or was it fourteen? I shook the failures from my mind. Despite my repeated losses, my determination remained mostly solid. I was sure I would burn the tunnel down if it took a hundred lives. Scientifically speaking, the tunnel made no sense. Was it sentient? Was it just an open mouth? It wasn''t even a mouth. It was a throat at best, which was disgusting and morbid. What monster laid around, open gullet, waiting for a fool to step in? No one walked into a throat¡­ and I only did it for science. Fire worked the best. The problem was maintaining the flame while fighting off all the beasts that had pledged loyalty to the wooded gullet. I didn''t think they wanted the gullet to survive. I sensed coercion in some of those fights, which meant a double obligation to slay the monster. Or did it? I didn''t like snakes or rats and loathed the crawlers. The freaks were bigger in the forest, and they hid in every crack and crevice of the tunnel. So maybe I was saving the tunnel¡­ Whether I was the hero or villain, the quest remained clear. I needed to remove the esophagus and cleanse the jungle of its corruption. Too many vile critters called the trees and grasses a sanctuary. Their presence tainted the essence of the grove. To let them live was to let the jungle suffer. I was no druid, but even I could feel the plight of the plants. I cemented my pathway with a warped rationale. At the end of the day, if I was being honest, the jungle was a challenge, and I needed to grow. If I lied enough to myself, my past loops and those to come next wouldn''t weigh on my mind for too long. I needed fire, weapons, and an endless supply of grit for my plan to work. The throat wouldn''t let me just burn it; it would send its minions to block my path. I needed to dislodge the blockers and burn the gullet. I was careless before and placed the cart before the horse. This time, I will kill the horse and burn the cart. So maybe I was just a straight villain in this scenario. That would have to do. I lingered at my recursion point for an entire day, cultivating mana and scheming up plans by patching up my past failed attempts. I worked through katas and inspected my progress. Strength was over seventy-five percent of the way to rank two. Endurance had already passed rank one and I was about ten percent along on the next rank. My mind remained at an overall rank of nine, which was expected, and my spirit had no rank¡ªalso expected. Part of me was tempted to dive into the spirit paths already. I was already practicing most of the fundamentals, and it would be a matter of lifting restrictions I''d put in place to stop the development. Lack of confidence deterred me from moving forward. The spirit could be dominant if the path was pursued correctly; if not, it would remain insignificant, adding small benefits to the cultivator. The same could be said for all pathways, but the mind and body were much more malleable to change than the spirit. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The upgrades to my body came as no surprise. I felt stronger, faster, and more durable during my recent loops of fighting. My energy lasted longer, food and water were less of a nuisance, and my recovery time had improved. Conquering the dungeon lair should also significantly boost my progress. I wrapped up my training session and started on my quest. Shortcuts proved to be a key strategy in the first phase of jungle cleansing. The most significant shortcut was at the entrance. I created a path off the landing to the bone-infested grounds below. Then, I made a walkway using burning bloodwood logs to keep the critters at bay. After that, I worked the rest of the day, cutting down trees and pulling them into the jungle. If I cut the bloodwoods in quarters, I could easily carry the log down my ramp, through the burning passageway, and to the jungle''s edge in forty minutes. At the end of the day, I had a pile of twenty-six logs neatly stacked on the jungle''s edge. The next phase of the plan was clearing the jungle. Sometimes, when a thing was rotten, it was best to remove the rot entirely. The jungle needed to be removed. It hid too many monsters and made logging lumber a nightmare. I sharpened my ax, delivered a speech fit for a villain, and got to chopping. It took roughly a day of slaying and chopping to make it to the gullet. The cave of logs and limbs was as throaty as ever. The opening stood ten feet high and seven feet wide. Its opening was dark, except in the deep distance, a soft light glowed, promising riches and the rewards of the heart''s desire. I spent enough time in the belly of the beast to know its promises were a sack of lies. There were no riches in the depth. The light had no meaning. It was as empty as darkness. Clearing the jungle up to the monster¡¯sG throat was the work of madness. Nothing remained alive from the tunnel opening back to the jungle''s entrance. I''d cleared roughly a quarter of the jungle. By my estimates, it took nearly two days. That left me a day or two to complete the task. The added benefit of clearing the jungle space was that I earned some respect from the locals. All the creatures actively avoided me, and birds feared to sing. I dragged the twenty-six logs and over a hundred of the mahogany-like trees to the beast. Since the birds refused to sing, I had to whistle my own tune. The tune carried on while I picked a side of the tunnel and buried my ax into the patchwork. It only took one loop to learn not to walk into the gullet. If one wanted safe passage, one needed to go to the side door. On cue, guests arrived when I''d cut half of the door out. I battled a handful of snakes, dodging body slams and cutting through thick bodies with barbaric grace. The skelly rats arrived after I kicked in the rest of the door. I didn''t have flash bangs on me; there wasn''t enough prep time. More so than that, I learned to create freeze bombs on my own. The skill discovery came two deaths ago when rats chased me all across the jungle. I ran out, of course, and their packs were in the dozens. I hid in the cavern of an old tree that I sealed off with ice. As the rats scoured the jungle for my scent, I worked tirelessly on developing an area-freezing spell. I took all my knowledge of runes and freeze bombs and applied the knowledge to the balls of ice forming in my hand. The rune scripting required on the hand bombs required honed focus. At first, I needed to use my hands to etch the runes into my ice bombs. I was satisfied with the result and made a large stockpile. It didn''t take long in the fight with the rats to learn I didn''t have enough ice bombs, nor was my hand etching fast enough to keep up with demand. I had to run away again and practice my craft. It took a day of hiding before I learned how to summon ice bombs etched with exploding runes enhanced by mana. I gladly welcomed my new skill in my growing arsenal of tricks. The rat horde and I engaged in another bloody and cold battle. I came out the victor, and then the effing rat king showed up; a bipedal bastard fiend waved a small stick, and all the slaying I did turned against me. Dead rats were everywhere, and they no longer cared about the cold. I swung two hammers to try to keep afloat in the endless wave. The dead prevailed. I did not. That failure was at least two loops ago. I was a different person now. For one, I started with ice bombs in my arsenal. Second, I knew not to kill the frozen skeletons. It was best to feed them to Esophagi, which I did, throwing the frozen rats through the side door armfuls at a time. After the rats were stuffed inside, I added the fallen jungle trees, snake bodies, and anything significant and chokey. I stuffed Gulley to the brim. Phaze four was underway. The burn phase, the final phase in the boss fight, was a simple matter of stuffing the twelve bloodwood logs inside the throat. Twelve were piled on the outside of the tunnel. I created kindling using scraps of flammable wood, started a fire, and watched Esophagi burn in the cool safety of my dome. The throat ignited in a brilliant flame. Crawlers poured out of the crevices of the burning throat, looking for the source of their agony. They scurried, hissed, and fought among themselves. They couldn''t sense me in my dome. Last time, I made the mistake of starting with a slow burn. Never again. We went straight to Soggy-flaming heat levels, skipping hot and basking in hell. I laughed at the plight of the crawlers, and as the fire burned brighter, tears crested my eyes. What had I done? I questioned my sanity. The yellow flame burned outside the tunnel, baking the wood inside. Fire spread down the logs, devouring all in its path. The top of the tunnel caught fire. Gulley seemed to cry in pain, but that could''ve been the crawlers. The fire eventually found the opening of the tunnel. It trickled inside, discovered a new fuel source, and ignited in a bright flame. Tears continued to stream as I watched the pyre. I was the villain. I wasn''t supposed to feel bad. Where in the Soggy infernals were my callouses? I didn''t feel bad. Why the tears? My victory was an embarrassment. I turned away from the fire and witnessed a new destruction. My mouth hung open. The victory came at great cost. I looked at my hands as if they were to blame for all this. My left looked extra guilty as it clenched the tool of destruction''s handle. It trembled under my gaze. I''d been here before. Not here, not in this place, but in this moment. No, this was different, yet it was so familiar. What was I missing? In a moment of weakness, I almost betrayed my plans. I stayed my hands and let the fire take its course; this was how this path had to go. I devoted too much to this cause to not finish. I caused too much destruction to stop. It would be better if I let this all end. Do better. Be better. The words mocked me as if this wasn''t the path of improvement. I was better. Damn it. I did better. I was doing better. What was I losing here¡­ what have I lost? My victory turned solemn in my empty shell, and I watched the fire devour my foe through hazy eyes. Eventually, Gulley collapsed; the structure was no longer stable enough to support itself. The black rubble rolled off the packed insides of more burnt things. The tunnel collapsed, leaving a pile of burning scraps and an open belly. As the smoke cleared, I saw into the cavern. It wasn''t as empty as I''d presumed. A green glowing being stood inside the exposed cavern. 34. Slashing Vines There was someone here. My heart raced. Sweet Selene. What have I done? I dismissed my bubble and ran to the cavern. The green being radiated nature energy. It felt raw and rough like the earth, yet it had a lively essence. The being wasn''t human. It stood on roots like it had feet. Its branches stretched out like hands beckoning me to come to its aid. The center of the being burned bright. My fire caught the beast. I prepared my mana, readying it to douse the flame and then heal the force of nature. I could fix this. I could make it right. I ran through the cavern opening, approaching the standing tree of energy. I tried to find the fire, searching all over the body of roots. Energy pulsed from the tree figure. I stepped back in response. I didn''t see when the vine pierced my ice armor. I didn''t notice when my mana faded, nor did I feel pain as the vine crawled through my chest and ripped out my heart. A mouth formed out of the being''s trunk. It was all lips and no teeth. That didn''t stop it from swallowing my departed heart whole. My hand stretched out. Blue refreshing mana accumulated on my fingers. Tenty laid on the ground next to my impaled body. His body and face sprawled from when he died. I averted gaze from Sasha''s impaled corpse. Flint''s shattered pieces were more challenging to ignore as I scoured the ground for equipment. I needed weapons and protection. I could only get so far on my ice summons. My heart ached inside my chest. My left hand reached for the beating organ, attempting to provide comfort. I left my hand to linger on my chest until the rapid beats calmed. I pulled my other arm back and wiped my eyes. Why was I so weak? My anger wasn''t directed at my failure. Failure and I were familiar friends. We knew each other by name and spoke often. My anger targeted me and my weakness. I was disgusted with myself for feeling like I deserved that death. I needed to be stronger, and my hands would get dirty. There was no way around it. To believe differently was foolish, ignorant, and selfish. It wasn''t for my sake I fought. It was theirs, and the longer I toiled with made-up guilt, the longer they rotted in the soil where warmth faded to cold. I couldn''t lose. I didn''t have the luxury of being weak. My resolve needed to become iron. My beating heart softened as my will hardened. "Live for them," I said in a solemn voice. I gave the remains of my friends one last look. The next time I looked at them, it would be in person. I grabbed my frozen body and walked to the dungeon. I kept my distance from Vines, firing arrows and fleeing. Vines had limited control over the jungle. The tree could control branches, vines, and parts of the earth. If I didn''t stay on the move, I would be threatened by all types of attacks. Getting swallowed by dirt killed me more than once already. The leaf blades couldn''t pierce my armor, nor could distant vine attacks. At close distances, though, the vines were deadly. Not only did Vines have an arsenal of earth attacks, it seemed connected to the beasts in the jungle. The rat king was its ace summons. I learned to hunt that bastard before the battle started. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Fire spread through the cavern, acting as a deterrent for the crawlers. The fourth fight convinced me I needed a better way to deal with the bugs; after the fifth I used burning logs and coals from the fire. It was also after the fifth attempt that I brought regular arrows with me to the fight. The prep work took five days alone. It was worth it. I was no longer fighting on my heels. I lit an arrow, fired, and ran. Vine''s never made a sound or reacted to the burning arrows piercing its bark. The only hint I had I was doing damage was that its aggression simmered. Comfortable in my timing, I fired three shots, one after the other. Two were of ice, and one burned with fire. Fire was the most effective attack; half of Vine''s body burned. My fire arrow hit the base of the monster. Vines hadn''t proved to be sentient; its only function was to survive. However, it had not tried to extinguish the fire with the nearby puddles or smother the flames with the earth it controlled. So I shot my fire arrows low, giving the fire plenty of fuel to consume as it climbed. My ice arrows were modified to cut at the tree. Cutting trees with arrows was something only the boredest hunters or rangers boasted about. No one actually did that as practice. It was a waste of time and impractical. This fight proved me wrong. My second arrow sliced through an outstretched limb. The third cut at the edge of the Vines. The following rotation, I skipped the fire arrow completely, focusing on widening the gashes on the side. One significant advantage I had over the tree was my mobility. I moved around while Vines remained firmly rooted, lining up shots and firing. A snake slithered at the edge of the forest. I retreated to a new spot, aimed and fired three arrows at the snake. I didn''t watch them land as I was already on the move. I blasted Vines with a combo of two fire shots, retreated, and shot again. The battle lasted nearly thirty minutes. Ashes smoldered, and my pillars were about to crumble. Vines stopped fighting about two minutes ago. It stood still as I delivered the last shot. The ice arrow raced through the air to the intended target. Five inches of roots held Vines together. My arrow hit the center of the root, and as it passed through, it severed the top half of Vines from its rooted base. There was no celebration as I walked over to the defeated foe. I didn''t trust Vines to be dead, so I kept a shield and ax up and mana ready. The crawlers, no longer under the trees'' control, scattered as I moved. I was glad to be done with them. Vines didn''t move. The slightest amount of nature aura radiated from the chest, or maybe its mouth, was a more accurate description. I stood behind my shield and reached out to the tree with the head of my ax. I gave Vines a nudge, stepped back, and waited. It was dead. I was confident about that. I dismissed the shield and readied my ax. My swings cut into the tree near the glowing energy. Five hacks later, I exposed the meaty core. The purple core wasn''t like the beast''s core, which was more of a rocky substance. The epic core of Vines had a soft exterior like a fruit. It even smelled sweet. There was no going back. I knew how this would end when I first died at the hands of Vines. I raised the sweet fruit to my mouth and took a massive bite. It tasted bitter and sweet. Next time I would remove the peel first. That was for next time. I needed to cycle the powerful energy running through me. 35. The Wolfbear Slayer I did it! Sweet Selene. I freaking broke through the strength barrier and raised it to level two. My muscles condensed and thickened. I gained a little bit of bulk, but it was minor, and no one would be able to spot the difference between my rank one physique and rank two. I could tell, and probably Lana too. In an effort to expunge my excitement, I punched the few remaining stalactites, obliterating them into dust. The few victims left me hungering for more targets. The cavern wall was the closest solution. I turned the tangle of plants and roots to ice and punched to my heart''s content. Ice cracked and shattered, breaking massive chunks off the wall. My armor-covered fists felt the impact of each heavy blow. I''d need to figure out how to strengthen my armor eventually. I pushed through the pain and punched away. I broke through the wall in a matter of minutes, creating a hole the size of my head. Light gleaned through the hole. I peered through it and found the lair of the wolfbears. It was a colony of the beasts, and they were fenced in. Hunger for fight urged me to challenge them. I summoned a massive war hammer and slammed it into the frozen wall. A quarter of the wall broke, and the falling ice alerted the beasts on the other side. I broke another half of the wall apart and stepped to the other side just as the ambitious pack leaders arrived. We laughed as we fought. I didn''t bother using anything other than my fist and ice armor for the first five hundred fights. The beasts tried their best to swarm me and use their superior numbers and size as an advantage. They didn''t realize my strength outranked theirs. I boxed bears until the ground was bloody. When I got tired, I equipped my large claymores and delivered a quick death. The wolfbears started to fear me; the weaker of the pack fled while the strong stayed to fight. I was too strong and knew how they fought all too well. Superiors, grands, and a few epics fell at my feet. At the end of the slaughter, only one was left laughing. I stepped back into the jungle, my hunger for a fight not satiated, and finished the quest to cleanse the rot. When the mission was completed, I received no reward or praise for my actions. A small improvement to my physique was reward enough. I ventured back into the wolfbear den. The stench of death was overwhelming, and pale gray mana filled the cavern, which was half the size of the jungle. Stone fences kept the packs of wolfbears from running wild, or they had until they were destroyed along with most of the packs. At the back of the wolf pit was a tunnel. Curiosity got the best of me, so I followed the trail. I walked two steps and collapsed. I''d run out of time. I woke up standing in a puddle of water. My hand stretched out, and blue refreshing mana accumulated on my fingers. I kept my head low as I retrieved my body and returned to the dungeon. The jungle and I became intimately familiar over the course of a year. For several loops, I spent the entire time fighting the foul beasts and trees that resided inside, sharpening my skills. Vines and I were practically frenemies, though the tree chose to erase me from its memory. I didn''t blame it. The regular wolfbears no longer posed a threat; however, deeper into the layer, I discovered a new challenge. It was no spirit tree; this was an epic rank wolfbear that had awakened. "Finally. It isn''t nice to keep a queen waiting," The awakened beast said. The voice had a deep growl but was more feminine than I expected. Ignored guilt settled on my back. The bear lady sat on a stone chair as she polished the claws extending from her hand. She focused on her hand''s long, slender fingers and the sharp claws that held her attention. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. I cleared my throat. The last time I talked was to Tents, but that was months ago. The only voice I''d been hearing was mine and the trees that taunted me with my own voice¡ªso more of myself... "I¡­ Thi¡ª" "Silence. You have not earned the right to speak." The bear lady stood. She wasn''t as bulky as the wolfbears, but she was still twice as thick as me and two feet taller. She wore no clothes, relying on her fur to keep her covered. The awakened wolfbear flashed a wicked smile. As she licked her lips, I feared she''d slice her tongue on her sharp teeth. The bear winked at me and hurled a stone spear. Constant fighting had improved my senses. Experience taught me to never trust what you can''t see. Dodging wasn''t an option. I slammed my foot down, forcing walls of ice to protect me. I kicked the ice wall before me and rolled out as spears shot from the ceiling and floor. A dome covered the women and me in ice. As mist filled my shell, I threw a dozen ice bombs. They exploded in a flash of ice, and I used the distraction to disappear into my mist. "You can not hide from me." I turned to counter the whispers at my back. A thick ice shield formed in arms to block the blow. I needed to roll away. My shield blocked the spears. I motioned to dodge as a volley of spears crashed into my back. My roll was ruined, and I was pushed forward. A boulder slammed into my face. I stumbled back into an ax attack. This one broke through my ice but didn''t pierce through my skin. Water mana distorted beneath, and an earth spear shot through the cracks, ramming into my body. It felt all too familiar.
"Finally. It isn''t proper to keep a queen wait¡ª" "I know. I''m sorry." This time, I came prepared to fight. "You''ve got a lovely place. Did you decorate yourself?" I summoned my ice dome as the ceiling collapsed. The intense weight strained my mana, forcing me to support my barrier. Spears flew into the side, and the ground beneath disappeared. I pushed ice below me, filling the growing gap. I couldn''t keep up with the lady bear''s digging speed but had no choice but to turtle in my shell. Earth piled on. It was a lonely week in my shell. As much as I called for the bear, she refused to hear me out. She kept the ground solid and fortified. My ice pick met solid stone when I tried to dig myself out. All that I could do was cycle and meditate. I reached out to Tents multiple times, but he continued to slip past my reach. I feared he was doing a number on my mind. There was no way the entity would remain passive. That line of thought woke a new fear. How did I protect my mind from inside attacks? Was that even possible? In all my cultivating years, I never encountered a mind manipulator. Nor even hear mention of them. There were people with high charisma who nearly convinced me to sell my store to them, but they did it with a smile and assured me they were doing it with the best of intentions. The gains would always be worth it. Mind magic, though, picking at someone''s thoughts and changing them seemed all sorts of corrupt. Cal played a dirty game. I needed to prepare to counter his unseen attacks. Another quest to add to the list and most likely move up in priority. The end finally came when the air I breathed poisoned my lungs. No matter how much I rasped, I couldn''t catch my breath. 36. Lipper was a Real Bear "Finally. It isn''t proper to keep a queen waiting." The Lips sat on her stone chair, polishing her nappy claws. She really needed a trim. Perhaps if she cut them, she''d be less inclined towards violence. At the very least, she wouldn''t be so distracted by them. Frankly, I found them appalling and couldn''t understand her fascination with her nails. "Wait. I don''t want to fight. I harmed nothing and ran straight here." "Why does the weak worm feel qualified to speak in my presence?" Lick Lipper flashed a toothy smile. Her daggers gleaned from the light of the fire she kept in her cave. She licked her lips, giving me the sign that our conversation was over. I coated the cave in ice, extinguishing the fire before Licks attacked. Peace talks were finished, and I could sense the earth''s energy tensing. Now, that tension pulled on my core. It pricked and pounded, attempting to break my will. Licks was in another realm than me, at least templar, and probably a couple levels into the realm. She had direct control over the earth within her reach and the mana she held inside her soul, which would be a well much deeper than mine. I had her shut off from her external powers for now. If I kept her focused on me, I could maybe hold her deadly attacks off long enough. My mana bled into my ice, coating the cave as I summoned Snowpiercer and fired away. The shots hit walls and shattered crudely crafted decorations. All the arrows close to Lips were blocked by stone. Not that the earth templar needed to block my attacks. She covered herself in a dense armor of black stone that looked similar to granite. It would take dozens, if not hundreds, of shots to chip away her armor. Lipper kicked her wall at me as I shot at the templar, trying to break her armor and keep her distracted. Judging by the speed of the oncoming wall, her power looked equal to mine. I countered with a kicked wall of my own. Ice and stone collided. Shards sprayed in all directions. I didn''t have time to raise a shield as I was dodging the stone wall rushing at me. Fortunately, the shattered ice showered Licks, breaking her rhythm of attack. I broke out of my roll early, using a pull on a water anchor to adjust my momentum. A pull on another anchor shot me forward. I covered the short distance between us in half a heartbeat. I held a heavy hammer, pulled back for a swing, and delivered a cross-body strike with all my strength. The templar saw my attack at the last moment. Just before my strike landed, the rock wall slammed into my back, crushing me between it and stone lips that''d formed spikes out of her body... "You have a lovely smile¡­" "I like your cave¡­" "I brought you a gift¡­" "Finally," I said, beating Lips to her lines so that she was copying me. "It isn''t proper to keep a Queen waiting, and I''m¡ª" "Hold your foul demon tongue," she said with malice. The ensuing battle was by far the most violent and curse-filled fight of all prior recursion or any to come. Lipper didn''t like being quoted¡­ "What''s your stance on beefbears¡­" "I love you¡­" "Please no¡­" "Don''t do this..." I knew I lacked charisma. Being a secondary character in everyone else''s world diminishes favorable traits. I learned to play small so others could feel big. They got the spotlight while I got to have a spot. Perhaps it was the fact that I was secondary that let me slip out of death''s hands. Even considering the fact that I was a secondary character with traits as compelling as a trout, Lips was way more scaly than me on my worst days when I actively tried to repel people. The time I confessed my love for her must have stirred up some deep-rooted issues. That death has a permanent spot in my top ten worst ways to die and almost tied the quoting loop. She even had the audacity to kiss me with her fury lips after all of her cruelty. A small part of me wanted to abandon the fight. That part was ignored, and labeled a coward. I had a new wall before me, and my fists were far from tired. I didn''t even need a reason, though I had plenty, and they all centered on how much I disliked Lips. Her jokes were terrible, she had grotesque nails, her cave smelled, and her extra moist lips disturbed all of my peace. Lipper''s damp lips just made little sense. Even considering her lip-licking habit, no lips were that wet. She could lap up an entire ocean and that still wouldn''t justify her swampy conditions. Something foul was at play, and it needed to be resolved. "You''ve got nice lips." Licker stared into my soul. Her lips pursed, and her posture slanted toward me. "What''s your secret¡­" The entire cave crushed me. Still far from a top-ten death¡­ "I brought you these cores. Please tell me what ails your nasty mouth¡­" This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. "I love your smile." White teeth gleamed, and the fire danced upon the surface of her daggers. "Your love is like a swamp¡­" Sog''s moldy flame. I couldn''t do this¡­ "Listen, lady." I threw all of my ice spears and charged. Lips called upon the earth to block my way. A layer of ice blocked her. I kicked her stone shield, imprinting ice into its structure, which I connected to a water anchor to the ceiling. Water mana poured into the connection, creating a desperate bond between the shield and ceiling. As Licker''s shield raised, I delivered a hammer swing to her granite midsection. Rocks chipped from her body as she doubled over. I stomped down on the ground in anticipation. An ice pillar erupted from the ground, smacking Lips on the chin. I dodged the stone spears she managed to summon and hit her with another hammer blow. Ice broke through her shell. Before she could attack, I connected her body to an anchor and pulled her hard to the left. A wall of ice followed Lipper, smashing her into the frozen cavern. She cursed in a rage of frustration and sunk all of her will into the surrounding earth mana. My energy plunged, and the ice layers cracked. Earth tendrils emerged from the cracks. They looked like I''d imagined Tenty''s face to be if we ever argued in person. The tendrils flared wildly. First, they targeted the wall, smashing Lips and shredding it to pieces in seconds. Then they targeted me. I fled the cave, using my enhanced strength to bolster my steps. I thought I was winning the fight. I had the advantage and was three stabs away from a turning point. The turn tables turned too quickly. It seemed unfair. I turned down the corridor leading to the wolfbear den. The clanking of stone boots on the cavern floor nipped at my back. I busted through the opening and rolled to the side as three tendrils with a speared tip lanced at me. The wind of the blades brushed at my sides. I didn''t have a chance to look as I got to my feet and anchored myself away. Running away was a terrible idea. It wasn''t that I ran into a den of wolves, either. In Lip''s cavern, I could suppress her domain. In this open field surrounded by earth, I had no chance. Stones fell from above. Spears shot from the ground and the sides of the walls. I summoned ice wall after ice wall, deflecting blows and shielding my body. My growing mist gave me a bit of reprieve. Lips could only find me if I stood within twenty yards of her. After all we''ve been through, the distance was crucial to a beneficial engagement. I slayed beasts that stumbled into me. When I had the chance, I peppered the templar with arrows. I wasn''t winning the fight, but I wasn''t losing. I battled the earth elements until my channels strained, and I couldn''t manifest my energy. Still, I fought to stay alive. Before my life in the loop, I hardly relied on my powers. I''d be damned if I let mana exhaustion stop me now. I managed to live another five minutes in Lip''s dungy domain. "Finally¡ª" The cavern froze, and ice crept towards the templar''s legs. Licker didn''t notice. Her inability to command her cave to kill and the rain for arrows held her attention. She gave up her ambient mana and summoned a wall to counter my arrows. A battering ram sliding on ice smashed into her wall, punching through it. I shot arrows through the gaping hole that pelted the granite body of the bear lady. Licks growled in frustration. Another wall, anchored to the templar''s body, smothered her barrage of stone spears. As she tried to dodge more walls, I also created spears and anchored them to her. She tripped in her scramble, and the wall fell on her. Ice pelted her prone form. Licks abandoned the offensive. She summoned a stone dome. Within the safety of her walls, she showered me with curses¡­ and, if my ears weren''t mistaken, a couple compliments. "Would you stop fighting me?" I asked the globe of stone. "You will beg for mercy. I will carve your soft face from your skin. Every bone in your body will break. When you scream in anguish, your mouth will be filled with stones upon which you will choke." "Or¡­ and hear me out¡ª" "I will boil your blood and rip out your¡ª" "OK, Lips." So, her compliments weren''t complimentary. I''m not sure why I persisted in these conversations. We''d reached this point several times already. In a few seconds, she''d burst from her shell like some abyss-crazed demon and brute force her way to victory. Her control over earth and the depths of her mana well was too deep for me to counter. She wouldn''t get the chance to employ any of her tactics in this loop. Water poured from my channels, flooding the room in less than a minute. I held my breath as I swam out of the cavern. It took a little strain to keep the water wall from pouring out. That strain lessened as I froze the entire cavern. I didn''t know how long Lips could last in a block of ice. I had enough mana that I was willing to put the question to test. The answer came six days later. The shell of stone collapsed under the continuous pressure of my ice. Lipper threw a bunch of rocks in a last-ditch effort for survival. She fell as her twelfth stone left her hand. Her body smacked hard into the ice. Her prison showed no mercy, and her life ended as ice stabbed her heart. I let out a breath of relief. It was nice to get a win now and then, though it took little justification to realize that these battles were a net positive in terms of experience and skill practice. My anchors were becoming a new branch of water manipulation that I enjoyed pursuing. Water anchors were no longer just a tool for transportation. I could use the points offensively and defensively in a fight. As I gained greater control over water energy, I was sure I''d find new uses for the skill. Water anchors weren''t the only skill that improved. My summons were nearly instant, and with my improved strength, I could throw ice spears hard enough to damage stone walls. Even my ice armor increased in durability. It was a combination of technique and will. A cultivator''s mind and expectation of the mana affected their abilities. The more confident a wielder was in their skill, the better their skill worked. The confidence wasn''t something that could be faked, though. A savvy lancer couldn''t fake their way to power. They had to earn it by carving their way through life and death, struggling for each and every gain. Only then did they learn to trust the power bound to their soul. Only then did their power obey them. Every day I fought, the path to power became clearer. Unfortunately, I still had a long way to go. 37. The Dungeoneer Lips didn''t have much regarding possessions. The cave she lived in had bare minimum essentials. In fact, to call it living was a stretch. She had a wolfbear pelt on the ground, a small fire pit, a table, and a chair. There wasn''t any food in the cave nor any personal possessions. She didn''t even have a weapon, which wasn''t necessary based on her size and skill. She could still muscle her way through most fights if she couldn''t use mana. My guess was Lips was cultivating in seclusion. Perhaps she pursued a spiritual or mental pathway. She could''ve been refining her mana, similar to what I did in the springs. I''d be revisiting the springs after a few more runs like this. That still left to question what all the wolfbears were doing in the cavern. Lips didn''t seem to be watching the herd or caring for them. That led me to believe that there was another part of this dungeon I hadn''t discovered. I cleared the dungeon fifty more times. As far as I could tell, Lip''s room was as far as the dungeon went. I could either circle around to the front where the path branched or head back to the den of wolfbears. The mystery made no sense, and I scoured the area for a satisfying conclusion. None were found, and I was left none-the-wiser. Regardless, it was time to move on and live in the light. Over two years was more than enough time for anyone to spend underground, and even mountaineers would agree with that. ''Touch the sun,'' they''d say. I basked in the refreshing air, savoring each breath. The constant grind of each cycle led me to take for granted how much I loved the outdoors. Not even the jungle could compare to the majestic forest sprawled before. It was like seeing the trees for the first time in a long time, or instead, I found my new challenge. If one dungeon hid in this vast forest, perhaps there was another or even something far more rewarding. If my encounter with Lipper wasn''t so fresh in my mind, I might''ve licked my lips in anticipation. The challenge, however, would have to wait. I had a short list of things I needed to do before I conquered the woods. The first was refining my mana in the spring, the second was upgrading to the next realm, and the third was learning some mental defenses. I stepped into the hidden spring and relaxed in the calm waters. I pulled mana out of my channel and mixed it with the pure energy pooling around here. After an extended cultivation session, I floated in the water and sank into deep meditation. The fact that Squids hadn''t talked to me in over two years somewhat worried me. What was he doing, or where had he gone? I expected some admonishment for my barbaric approach to cultivation. Past Squids would lament how I spoiled my soul with weaker cultivation techniques. The mind parasite frightened me. At the same time, I kind of missed him. Lips, for more reasons than one, was a terrible friend, and I was pretty sure she''d agree as well. As nervous as I was, learning mental defenses was still second on my list of priorities. After fighting to survive hundreds of fights against Lips in the dungeon, I finally cultivated my sixth body essence, endurance, which raised me to level fifteen and qualified me to enter the realm of templars. Much like agility and strength, the second rank in endurance was a transformative change. I wasn''t just a little bit healthier. I was five times healthier than the prime of a peak human. My body resisted sickness and toxins. Injuries recovered at an increased rate. I could run at full sprint for miles without tiring. Fighting was easier, as was my ability to use skill after skill. The last benefit came as a surprise in the previous few fights. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Part of the reason the fights with Lips got one-sided at the end was my increased endurance. The templar also had her strengths, but she was more raw power than practiced skill. Fighting against her was fighting a beast well aware of its strengths and how to use them to kill. She had strength, talent, endurance, and power. It made me curious about what class she had. My inclination was a class like a paladin or a druid... a class that mixed a little strength with either mind or spirit skills. Whatever it was, in the end, my increased endurance gave me the edge in our fights. She no longer posed much of a challenge. I could even change up my tactics and come out victorious. Now that I''d gained another level in body cultivation, I had completed my fifth layer. I was a surge of mana away from becoming a templar. The next stage of progression was so close, and I had at least another week in this loop before it ended. I''d finish purifying my mana here, then return to the respawn point and harness the abundant energy there. I spent less than a day in the dungeon. The mana at the graveyard should still be thick and ripe for cultivating. Before returning to the spawn point, I visited my body frozen in a tree, refreshed the ice, preserving Icey, and added another layer of protection for good measure. The dungeon was clear, so I feared no threat from within. There were probably other threats in the forest that I was unaware of, so taking precautions was just good practice. The killing grounds were still soaked in mana from the powers that so casually killed. I picked a nice stump, enhanced it with ice, and sat down. For good measure, I created a sizable dome around myself, leaving the top open for mana to flow freely. Once satisfied with my setup, I dived into more cultivation. Water poured from my channels, manifesting above me. I directed it above me and spun it around. As I fed the funnel energy, it grew in size and intensity. The turquoise mana drew in the surrounding mana, adding it to the cyclone. Inside the spinning vortex, the various energies were stripped of their essences and bonded to my water. The cyclone filled the sky with power, which dripped into my soul. The drips grew to a trickle. Trickle turned into a stream, and the stream became a raging river. I filled the first layer of my soul, condensed the energy inside, and filled it more. I repeated the process three more times until my prime layer could no longer take more energy. I moved to the second layer, continuing to absorb and condense. By the time I''d reached my fourth layer, the sun and moon had switched places twice. Late into the second day, my final interior core, the fourth layer, was full to bursting, as was the rest of my soul. I recalled the energy spinning above me and forced it into my channels. My soul expanded and stretched far past levels of comfort. I was a shell packed full of power. I pulled and pulled at the energy, and with a final scream of excitement, anguish, and triumph, my soul expanded. Water burst from my four layers, filling the fifth level of my soul. In a matter of seconds, my water connection grew to a new, profound height. Much like when I became a knight, I had a deeper understanding of the energy within my soul. Water mana had desires, passions, and fears. It longed to be free while, at the same time, it desired a greater connection. It wanted to come and go as it saw fit, never to be blocked or impeded. The azure mana just wanted to be. The energy felt so much like me; it was a comfortable blanket wrapped around my soul. I shouted in celebration and pounded my fist high into the sky. I felt incredible¡­ powerful. I had reached the rank of templar. 38. Son of Soggys Sow I closed my eyes, basking in my victory. Less than ten percent of all cultivators reached this stage. I had first-hand experience on why. It took me dozens of lives, an abundance of mana, and the gift of time to get here. The grind leaned in my favor, and the climb felt steep even then. Water mana flowed through my channels. The act of cycling was as easy as breathing. I didn''t have to give it a thought. Azure mana flowed, anticipating its chance to be free¡ªfor it to take form and exist. My will was its freedom. I''d felt connected to my mana at the rank of a knight. Now, I felt more like I was water. What I wanted, it wanted. The power inside intoxicated me. It was no wonder templars were gods among people. Sure, they were only the second realm of power, but among lancers, especially the lower ranks, they might as well be gods. Cal essentially said this level wasn''t strong enough for what I wanted to accomplish. Though I felt like an almighty being, I agreed. Mages were two realms away from where I ranked, and in between those realms were several levels and layers that I needed to add to my soul. I''d get there eventually. One stage at a time. Templars were divided into five stages: disciple, deacon, bishop, cardinal, and apostle. The belief was that once a cultivator reached this height, their progress became more spiritual. It was their devotion¡­ their personal deity to worship. The ranks didn''t sit right with many, but who were we to change what was established? The levels and ranking had been around a lot longer than the cultivators, and they would likely last longer than all of us. I celebrated a moment longer, appreciating the sacrifices made to reach this point, and then returned to work. Just because I was a templar didn''t mean I had the power of a templar. That would take time and practice¡ªwhich I found myself zealously devoted to. Part of me almost wished I hadn''t conquered the entire dungeon this loop. I wanted to measure my new level of strength. Unfortunately, that meant waiting for the next cycle. The other part of me was grateful I had so much time to tinker with my new powers. Without touching my dome, I shattered it. The individual shards of ice scattered. Each piece, from the largest ice chunk to the smallest drop of water, resonated within my senses. It wasn''t just my broken shell, either; the ambient moisture connected to me as well. The connection extended approximately twenty yards in each direction. All things within my field of awareness were known to me. The rat poking its head from its burrow and sniffing the air, waited eagerly for me to leave. The water soaking through them told me stories of life below. Even my sensitivity to the other manas heightened. I extended the water flowing within me outward. The energy connected to a shard of ice this size of my leg about twenty feet away. Using the link, I pulled on the ice. The shard flew toward me. I pulled harder, increasing the speed of its flight. I willed my energy to halt just before it stabbed into my outstretched hand. The ice hung in the air inches from my hand. I pushed it out with only a thought, and the shard fired away, its speed matching the velocity of my throws. Not bad. I knew my skill was rudimentary. Templars didn''t need to connect their internal mana to external forces. They could just control their connected ambient energy. In time, I''d get there too. Until then, it was basic training. For three days, I devoted myself to external mana manipulation. Connecting my internal mana to external mana felt comfortable. However, I needed a connection to manipulate the ambient water energy. In my circle of awareness¡ªwhat would become my domain¡ªI should be able to turn the moisture in the air into ice or even gather the humidity into a pool of water or rain down shards from the heavens and wash away opposition with a mere thought. I could only make it rain a few drops at the moment. The slow progress didn''t dissuade me. Hunger, on the other hand, wouldn''t go a moment longer without being addressed. I had a dungeon full of dead beasts. With my enhanced endurance, I could eat the old meat without fearing sickness. The thought didn''t appeal to my appetite or sound fun. It was time to test the skills I had. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I launched myself into the forest with incredible speed, searching for anything larger than a rat to hunt. Inside the forest, my awareness surged with a flood of information. Life thrived in every inch of this space. The information overload hurt, making it hard to process or think. I had to stop moving, and my hands instinctively reached to massage my head. Life thrummed in every direction, each thread beckoning to be acknowledged and known. As I remained still, my mind adjusted to the new way of life. My faster processing speeds developed a pattern and digested the information systematically. I scanned for threats first. Significant presences second. Afterward, I looked for anomalies and anything that felt out of place, such as the snapped twigs and broken leaves. I mostly ignored the more minor stuff, like small crawlers and nasty things. Only if they got too close or seemed hostile would their information be brought to attention. With my new connection, I saw life in a new color. It was beautiful It didn''t take long to find a trail. At the edge of my awareness, behind trees I couldn''t see past, water pooled in a hoof print. The hoof was half the size of the wolfbear, but it cut deep and had clear signs of it being from a boar. Compared to a wolfbear, the print was small; for a pig, it was enormous. The stout beast was intimidating. Hogs were mean, and their fury increased exponentially with size. Back on the island, I had more than my fair share of experiences hunting the beasts. They were fast, stubborn, and had a crazy side of aggression. I learned quickly enough that being careless while hunting the meaty prey would be costly. My parents went hungry for two weeks to pay for the salve to heal my wounds. Had it not been for their sacrifice, my thighs and stomach would be painted in scars. I would''ve gladly taken the scars. I focused on the information from my sphere of awareness on the pig''s tracks. Tracking became a whole lot easier. Instead of being restricted by the narrow vision of my eyes, I had a broad and accurate sense of an area of sixty feet around me. I sprinted and slid through the forest as fast as the terrain allowed. Not once did I lose the trail. After fifteen miles of tracking, the trail became fresh. Even without the puddles of water that easily located the trail, I could still sense imprints now that I knew what to look for. Beyond that, sweat from the beast lingered in the air. The salty and dirty aroma mixed with the moisture and created another path to follow¡ªa path I wouldn''t be able to see without my greater connection. I ran for another thirty minutes before I found my prey. The boar was indeed massive. It had black fur except for the grayish-white tuft on its head. Its eyes were dark and beady. The hog''s front hooves dug deep into the earth, followed by its snout and tusk, which severed thick roots like they were cutting through water. The muscle on the pig rippled as it shook off the dirt from its snout. It sniffed around, looking for food. It found its next food source and dug a new hole, ripping out more roots. Had it not been for my aura suppressing my scent, the boar would''ve found me and charged. Wild pigs typically went out of their way to prove they were bastards. Enlightened pigs took the bastard complex to a whole new realm. Soggy and sows were meant for each other. It was as if the hooved spirit beasts wouldn''t be content until everything around them was miserable. A look at the torn-up ground was proof enough; Soggy''s bastard was no exception. I connected the ambient energy with my bound mana. I remained out of sight while I formed the ice spear above the boar''s head. When the boar stuck its tusks into the ground, I forced the spear down. The spear of piercing sank deep into the spirit beast. Its eyes blazed with fury as it reared its head as much as it could. It huffed and squealed in a terrible eruption of sound. I formed another spear and struck. The boar turned about, its hooves dug into the earth, and it charged a shadow, piercing the air. While it hit nothing, I sank a third spear into its back. The boar gored into phantoms. Before I could attack again, it charged a new spot, repeating its attacks. It took three more spears to defeat the beast. The grand-ranked boar laid on the ground in a puddle of blood. Even as a corpse, the pig spat its malcontent. It was not pleased. I noted to chew on its meat cautiously and have plenty of fluids to wash down the spiteful morsels. I hung the bastard up, bleeding it dry, and gutted it. I didn''t choke as I feasted. While not as delicious as the wolfbears, the meat was still juicy and tasty. I ate past satisfaction. When I was done, I made a small fort and rested. Tomorrow would be a full day of training. 39. The Science of Logging I woke up feeling refreshed and renewed. The greater connection to my water mana still came as a shock as the massive load of information rushed into my mind. I gritted my teeth and endured the influx for a few seconds while waiting for the knowledge to be processed. The relief that followed made me grateful that I had developed my mind pathways as far as I had. I couldn''t imagine what it would be like for pure body or spirit cultivators. I didn''t recall hearing them complain about headaches or anything of that nature. Maybe their areas of awareness acted differently for them. Or perhaps being inundated with information was unique to mind cultivators. I''d ask Squids if he ever showed up. Though I doubted his answer wouldn''t be biased. So, I probably wouldn''t ask Squids and search for the answer when I could. It just wasn''t that important¡­ but morning musings had their way of working themselves into the morning routine. I hopped out of my ice shed, took a deep breath, and performed a morning stretch to welcome the new day and warm up my body. After a long, pleasant stretch, I recovered my fire. It only took a few breaths to turn the coals into flames. Luckily, there was enough dead wood from boarish activities that I didn''t have to work hard to find fuel. Gathering wood did take a few extra minutes because I practiced a few mana manipulation techniques on my fallen targets. The first was creating anchor points and binding the moisture inside the wood to the anchors. The attempts were clumsy at first, but after moving my thirteenth log, I began to feel like an earth wizard. Logs lifted and flew directly to their anchors, which happened to be the mana coalescing in my hand. The technique was limited. I couldn''t manipulate the flying object mid-air unless I created a new anchor and a connection. By that point, the log would''ve arrived at its destination unless I was standing further away¡­ What started as a simple chore turned into a moment of skill exploration. I wanted to know if I could hold an object in the air indefinitely by creating two high anchor points. I stabbed two spears into the bloodwood trees across each other. I was reasonably sure I could try the experiment without the spears, but I wanted to make my first attempts easy. With the anchor set, I connected a log to the spiked tree on my left. The log ripped from my hand, colliding into the tree. The thud reverberated off the surrounding giants as if they mocked my failed attempt. Silly trees didn''t understand that failure was but a step on the pathway to success. I recalled the log to my hands, established new anchors, and tried again. This time, I deserved the trees'' mocking for attempting the same thing and getting the same results. Still, it was good to be thorough when experimenting. I tried the same technique one more time. I concluded that I needed to be faster to set two separate connections simultaneously. The successful failure enabled me to pursue a new path. I left the log sticking to the side of the tree and attempted to bind the second connection. I was half certain both or one connection would break, and I was sorta half right in the end. The second connection was created, and the first connection remained intact. The loyal log, however, continued to hug the tree it first connected with. I admired the log for its devotion and, at the same time, plotted to tear it away. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. As I examined the log, I realized it was less faithful than I initially credited it to be. It wanted to remain stuck to the tree it clung to, but there was a part longing to connect with its other anchor. Silly log. It didn''t even know the other tree; it just felt it had a connection, and that was enough to tempt it away from its first bond. It had the desire; it just wasn''t strong enough. I could fix that. Desire was, after all, the first step to progress, or was it change¡­ maybe regret. I shook the thought from my head. It didn''t matter. On the opposite tree, I created a second anchor using the same method of sticking an ice stake into it. The stake was as close to the other anchor as possible. Next, I tapped into the desires of the tree-hugging log and created another connection. The log, as expected, drifted to the distant tree with two anchors. As it neared the halfway point, I added another stake to the single anchor tree and connected it to the moving log. My log''s movement halted. I floated a freaking tree. The spectacle wasn''t perfect. My log wobbled under the strain of the anchors. I pushed the floating log, testing its stability. The wobbling intensified until the strain became too much, and the wood fell. I practiced and tested several variations of the floating log. I discovered that, with six anchors, I could create a stable float. Which explained why a chunk of pork floated above my fire. My first iteration of the mechanism-free smoking technique had some faults. For one, the third anchor stopped me from rotating the pork. The workaround was easy but crude. That wouldn''t do for a guide at the templar rank. Minutes drifted by as I honed my spinning pork technique. The solution lingered close, slipping out of my hands at the last second when I tried to lock down the idea. Failure didn''t deter me. I''d kill another boar if I had to. I was going to master roasting the pig without a stick before this loop finished. The solution was as disappointing as the quest''s excitement. It came down to where the connections were made. Instead of connecting the middle of the pig to the third stake, I had to create the connection at the same point as one of the first two. I lost some stability, which was not enough to be a concern, though, and the ability to spin the pig was worth it. Putting the pig in a constant spin was another lengthy quest. The process suffered the same lackluster allure as freeing the pig. However, the result was a marvel of mechanical rigging and mana manipulation. Water ropes, though unconventional, came with their own benefit of being pre-lubed. Not that one should be in the market for lubed rope. That was just bad business. But if I thought I knew anything about mechanics, more lube meant more smooth, making my water chains a perfect fit for the task. In my case, the task was spinning the pig with a connected rope that uncoiled due to an anchor pulling at its other end. When the rope was uncoiled far enough, enough slack was created that my second rope, which was connected to the pig, unraveled. The two ropes created a cycle of winding and unwinding, spinning my pig the entire time. The added moisture was a bit counterproductive, but it only added a little extra cooking time. Besides, any camp chef knew the method to a good smoke was low and slow, and guides weren''t anything if not a good camp chef. ''Come for the food, stay for the travels,'' they''d say. I was quite pleased with my progress in the few days of practice. Though the log-floating obsession completely derailed my agenda, I couldn''t deny the gains. I had better control and a deeper understanding of my mana, and my anchors and connections were getting to a crazy point of precision. I should be more excited about my aura and domain, but at the moment, I was fascinated by my old skill. 40. Toms Pond The next couple of days flew by. I''d wake, work through katas, eat, and then train with my aura. My projected mana wasn''t on the level of domains where I could exert my will in a given space, but I was getting closer. I could now create several ice shards and even freeze small distant objects. My aura hadn''t reached the range of my awareness yet. I was only at half the distance that I could project my will. Still, if anything soft got within fifteen feet, they risked a severe chance of ice piercing, and the closer they got, the more prone to freezing they became. The extension of my aura did make my mist wraith form more effective. I all but disappeared in my clouds. My ice armor also improved. Now, I could crudely shape the ice forming my body. I guess I could always manipulate the form before, but I never thought to alter the appearance of my armor outside of adding spikes for offensive reasons. I no longer looked like a naked man covered in ice. Instead, I looked like a naked man covered in cheap armor. My new control allowed me to dismiss armor at chosen places as well. For a fight that wasn''t a benefit, for a stroll around town, it was kind of nice. Not that one usually strolled around town with mana armor flashing. That was just boastful. However, there were some good use cases for the armor; anything was better than nothing. My rags were pretty much nothing, and that wouldn''t do. A quick trip into the dungeon to collect hides solved this problem. I spent the rest of my evening and night chilling in a spring, purifying my mana. Tomorrow, I''d head to town. That meant I needed the entire night to prepare.
I strolled the edge of the forest, wearing a combination of wolfbear hides and ice armor. I knew I looked every bit as savage as I felt. My orc heritage gave me a bulky body and didn''t help my image. Fortunately, the people residing in the village were familiar with orcs. Tom''s Pond had a population of one hundred-six people. It wasn''t the smallest town, especially considering its secluded location, and it was far from crowded. The town was built on a hill and protected by a bloodwood wall. Several stone-worked houses were constructed along the dead-end road that connected the village to a larger town fifty miles northwest of here. The dead-end road was the only road in Tom''s Pond. Pathways connected houses, the two shops, farms, and the pond together. Unlike the mass-producing farms that covered the southern half of the Alderi Empire, Tom''s Pond only grew what was needed to sustain the population. The various crop fields covered the two hills adjacent to the town. Nestled at the base of the three hills was the small clear pond. Though I couldn''t see it from here, I could imagine the still water reflecting the cloud wisps that painted the blue sky. The two shops here were a general goods store and a food market that served as the only tavern and inn for traveling guests. When we first arrived, my party stayed a night in the inn. It was quaint, the owners were nice, and the food was satisfying. Tom''s Pond was a romantic town. The people lived simple lives here, and they were all happy. Every single person met us with a smile and kindness. Part of it was because of Lana''s high charisma; people couldn''t help but smile back at her, but that was a small part. The people were genuine and were not looking for ways to get ahead. They enjoyed their lives and openly shared their joy. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. As I stood on the edge of the forest, looking at the hill-top town, memories resurfaced. Two years. I''d been alone for two years, and not once had the pain of Lana''s absence faded. Her flame burned within my heart. "We should live here," Lana said, tucked into my side. My arm wrapped around her, and I held her carefully, even though it was her who kept me safe. "Goldi, you won''t last here." "Do you take me for a princess? I will thrive." "Maybe a couple weeks, three at the most. Then who''d you talk to?" I rubbed my arm, remembering where Lana playfully punched it, then quickly covered it in kisses. She squeezed my side, and I squeezed her back. She nestled her head on my chest and listened to my heart. I kissed her crown and left my lips resting there for a second longer. It was one of those moments that felt so pure I wanted it to last forever. I tied my memory to that moment¡ªthe rise and fall of her chest, her breath that smelled of wild berries, and her fragrance was that of honey flowers. The flickering light of the small fire danced in our dark room, providing just enough heat to keep the cold at bay if we held each other close. I gently put my finger on her chin. She raised her head, meeting her eyes with mine without further prodding. We kissed deeply¡ªtwo incomplete souls sharing a moment of wholeness. "We''d still travel," Lana said after catching her breath. "Of course, I''d have to buy us some traveling rings." I laughed as her doe eyes challenged me to question her. A challenge she knew I couldn''t refuse. "And which kingdom would you ransom to pay for it?" "Mine, of course," Lana said with a smile. "I love you, Goldi." "I love you too." Then she whispered softly, a secret for only me to hear. "It''s you and me, Bear." "Against the world." I finished the promise in a similar hushed tone. I was a fool for trying to save her¡ªto bring her back from death. I knew that. If anyone was in my situation, I''d tell them to move on. I tried to tell myself the same thing. I didn''t believe in soulmates. People picked their love and chose to stick with it. Lana picked me and I''d been happily stuck ever since. Life was complete with her by my side. It didn''t matter what we were doing; we wanted to be together. We were teammates, determined to make it through life hand in hand. How did one give up on that? How did one let go... As long as her light burned within my soul, I couldn''t. The memory of our last night together was still so raw. It''d been two years in the loop for me, and I still remembered her touch, smell, and laugh as if she were beside me. "You and me, Goldi," I whispered our sacred promise as the pain in my chest hammered away. Tom''s Pond was not the place for me. At least, not this day. I wiped my cheek dry, gave the town one more look, and headed northwest. If I hurried, I could still make Cyanne before sundown. 41. Fashionable Robberies If roads were used as a system of measurement, Cyanne tripled the size of Tom''s Pond. There were three roads leading into town: the road I followed connecting Tom''s Pond, a road to the port city of Landfall, and then the main road that headed north to the capital. Though the roads weren''t heavily traveled, they were well maintained. I didn''t come across a single crack in my travel across hills and around mountains. Not even a stray boulder dirtied the street. Wildflowers and shrubs grew near it, but their roots stayed as far from the path as possible. The Emperor, as much as I hated him, had good infrastructure. Or rather, he maintained the infrastructure very well. By that, I meant he used the full force of runes and his military might to keep his empire neatly paved. Only a few understood his intent, and I couldn''t say I was one of the few that did. Portals were the preferred path of transport. For one, there was a lot less work involved. There was also the luxury of knowing that bandits insisting on a toll fee wouldn''t beat you up and take your money. Although portal fees were basically socially accepted robbery. If bandits were less insistent on the brutality aspect, their fees might be considered reasonable. Bandits, though, were a silly bunch. They held fast to the belief that power meant right. If you could take it, it was yours. Bandits, bullies, and opportunists were all the same. Give them an inkling of an advantage, and they''d run with it. The group of ten I stumbled upon late at night was no different. I sensed them before they knew I was around. It helped that I wasn''t the target they were looking for. Their target was the small cart rolling down the hill towards us. William Shanks, the merchant from Tom''s Pond, his two daughters, and a farmer whose name I couldn''t recall accompanied the onyx-led cart. They most likely completed their trip trading crafts from the Pond for supplies they needed to live. The bandits were looking for a quick score, and I was guessing it wasn''t the supplies they wanted. We''d heard rumors of a growing problem plaguing Cyanne. The adventurer''s guild believed a gang had taken up residence in the town and was looking to take over. Judging by the party''s equipment lying in wait, these were some initiates led by a veteran. Equipment used to be a rudimentary way of assessing the power cultivators. Most of the time, it was a reliable way to pick out wealth, which was essentially tied to power. However, stronger cultivators dressed below their power level to avoid the public eye, and weaker lancers dressed up, if they could afford it, to intimidate others for more gains. That all changed; clothes and gear could still be used to hide true rank, but a particular piece of equipment had turned the trend upside down. Pauldrons, the shoulder guards of honor, had taken the Agorian continent by storm. Ten years ago, a famous princess in the elven kingdom of Lumin was seen wearing an extravagant shoulder piece, and everyone lost their minds. It started as a status symbol for the rich and powerful. Competition for market shares diversified from the rich, and suddenly, everyone wore shoulder guards. Now, pauldrons represented rank, status, combat skill, and wealth. Small pauldrons were worn by the weak and powerful. Medium-sized pauldrons were usually worn by knights. Templars and sages usually wore the biggest pauldrons. They had the power to back up the exquisite look and would not shy away from it. One princess and thousands of rumors had upturned society completely. Cultivators still dressed below or above their means, but as much as they tried to veil their true strength, their shoulder guards gave them away. The trend had turned into a polite way of showing your power instead of forcing auras on others. The old way of living was now viewed as tacky and gross. Nobody liked feeling someone else''s presence uninvited. I, for one, greatly appreciated the new trend and had to admit the flashy shoulder pieces more than enticed me. If it wasn''t for a greater tragedy I''d mourn the loss of the ebony shoulder guard Flint had gifted me. The squad of ten was well organized. The two earth lancers had created dugouts on the side of the road where the team hid. Off to the distance, an air lancer created cloud cover, and the light lancer had already scratched runes in the road that would be hard to spot as an unexpecting traveler. The dark caster stood close to the commander and the two life lancers. The trio of body cultivators held melee weapons and hid in the bunker closest to me. It looked like the standard Alderi ambush drill. Limit visibility by covering the road with fog. Light runes stopped the target from moving. The sleepers silenced the target''s mana. Bloomers provided heals and support while range attackers and melee fighters engaged. The ambushers knew what they were doing. Still, it was a bit overkill for their intended target. Judging by their shoulders, these bandits were a mix of rooks and squires. It was a reasonably high-ranking squad. Which made me question what they were doing out here. There was easier money to make at their ranks, requiring far less bloodshed. As the residents of Tom''s Pond got closer, my plan to intervene solidified. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Clouds formed and dispersed ahead of the bandits'' schedule. Seeing the change of weather, the travelers halted in their tracks. They were on the alert. That would make intervening all the easier. The cloud moved forward. The air mage wrestled for control. When that didn''t work, she tried to blow it away. Her focus on my cloud left her exposed to my arrow that pierced through her chest. Unaware of their downed comrade, the sleeper began casting his silencing spell. I needed to take him out immediately. I aimed my bow and fired. The arrow soared through the sleeper''s helm, passing through the back of his head. The force of the arrow knocked the sleeper off his feet, flinging him into the side of the commander. The squire rank flamer didn''t budge. He motioned for the bloomers to begin healing. The order wasn''t needed. The two life cultivators were already filling the air with their energy, directing it towards the downed sleeper and creating a barrier around them. It would take an extreme amount of healing to recover from the shot. I doubted the bloomers had enough skill or mana. Seeing all the action unfold, the caravan tried to turn and flee. For all the maintenance the Alderi did for their roads, they didn''t care about the importance of wide lanes. The travelers were stuck in a terrible moment where they couldn''t turn entirely around because of the narrow path and the trees hemming them in. To make matters worse, the earth closed around them, and the bandit''s long-range attacks were being unleashed. Fire and arrows filled the sky. The travelers managed a barrier of water. It wouldn''t last the barrage. I thought attacking the ambusher would put the target on me. Turns out my planning was shit. "Ao''s bloody pit." I carried on a slew of more curses as I changed up my plan... I sprinted and flung myself down the road. I couldn''t make it to the caravan in time, but maybe I could cut down the oppressive fire. The commander was the first to spot me. He pointed his sword in my direction and yelled some obscenities. The trio of melee attackers turned their attention from the travelers and focused on me. They rushed out of the safety of a bloomer''s barrier. One of my arrows slammed into a shield, and another was blown aside by a powerful gust of wind from the second puffer among the bandits. My third arrow struck the shield warrior in the heart. His eyes still held disbelief that his shield was ripped from his hands. As he dropped to the ground, his comrades abandoned their charge and turned their attention to the fallen soldier. Foolish mistake. They both died with arrows in their backs. I was upon the bunker of the nearest grounder in a flash. He tried to trap me in his hole. I''d already frozen the ground and the walls and he didn''t have the strength to break through my ice. He swung his fist of stone at me. Before his fist reached midpoint, an ice spear from the wall skewered him. Fire fell from above. I had to decide in an instant whether to bunker or run. I chose running. A pillar of ice launched me out of the hole. As I raced into the incoming storm of fire, I summoned a wave of water and drowned out the flames. At the apex of my jump, I turned the remaining water I could connect to into shards and launched them below. The shards forced a group of bandits to take cover. Before I hit the ground, I summoned a ramp. My feet landed, and I slid down the steep decline. The momentum of my fall propelled me forward. My next targets were the commander and the healers. I batted fire and earth aside with walls of ice. Once my momentum ran out, an anchor was created, and I pulled myself toward my targets. I countered the bandit''s volley with my own. Ice whipped through the air, both shards and arrows. My technique could have been better; I missed more than I hit. Still, it kept the pressure on the gang, allowing me to close. As the gap closed, one of the bloomers decided to retreat. She drew back several yards to the bunker across the road that housed the smoker. No more ranged attacks targeted the travelers; they all focused on me. During the chaos of the fight, I didn''t get a chance to see if they had survived. My hopes were not high. I blocked another volley and returned fire. Instead of waiting for me, the slender woman with an extravagant dark steel pauldron lunged toward me. I lost her when a bright light flashed in front of me. Before I could locate the creeper, a warning sensation prompted me to take cover. A dome of ice covers me as dozens of light spears hit my barrier from all directions. The squire-ranked creeper was still hidden. My dome shattered. I lunged to the left and rolled back. Boulders crushed the area I was in. I pulled on another anchor, sliding myself to a safer spot and trying to get a good look at the bandits left. I''d taken out five already. That left me with the commander, two life lancers, the smoker, and one grounder. I had a bead on all of them except the commander. I fortified my ice armor, increasing its protection. It should withstand any hits these five could throw at me unless their arsenal had much larger boulders. That didn''t seem like an attack they could pull off often, though, or they''d been launching massive boulders at me. I set a new anchor and pulled toward the solo bloomer. I continued to block their attacks, but most of my focus was on speed. I was next to the light-armored life lancer within a few blinks. The middle-aged man looked shocked that I was attacking him. "Why are¡ª" I cut his question short. His severed body dropped to the ground. A wall of ice protected my flank from another volley as I skated to the duo, looking like they were about to bolt. I hit the smoker in the back with an arrow. A stone wall saved the running bloomer''s life. I gave chase, leaving the grounder and creeper behind. "Please stop!" The young life lancer begged. "Soggy''s Sow," I cursed in response. My arm froze; my sword was inches from slicing the bloomer in two. I left her trapped in a dome of ice and returned to face the last two. Well, the last one. The commander was nowhere in sight. Without companions, the earth rook had no chance. I blocked his weak attacks and speared him with the ice spike I formed at his back. That battlefield loomed in silence. I took a deep breath, centering myself. The fight was fast and frantic. There were still two bandits left alive. I had one trapped, but I didn''t know where the other was hiding. If my water sense was to be trusted, the creeper was gone. 42. Basics of Traps and Trappings I trusted my water senses but didn''t believe the creeper was gone. I held one of her comrades captive, and I didn''t get the sense from the light cultivator that she was the abandoning type. Most likely, she lurked in her world of absent light, waiting for me to drop my guard. Typical creeper fashion. I could practically feel the sharp edge of her knife at my throat. The key was to keep the trapper waiting when walking into a trap. It was basic trapping fundamentals. The more you made the trapper wait, the more their patience broke down. Any trapper could watch their bait get toyed with for a few minutes. Several minutes to an hour tested the best of trappers. Each nibble wore on their desire to spring their carefully laid plans. That was why I preferred to walk away from all of my traps. My inability to wait had me cracking as soon as the target was in sight¡­ which explained why I was better with a bow than setting traps. I toyed with the creeper''s patience. I lurked near the cage of ice as if I was tempted to break it or talk to the prisoner inside, only to pull back at the last moment and inspect another fallen soldier. A nibble here and a nibble there. I was the perfect fish, and I knew the hook could only dangle for so long. The tension was too tight. The bandits had a few thousand credits on them. Nothing spectacular, but it added to my overall sum. None of their weapons were beneficial. Most were standard-issue infantry equipment. I ended up stripping one of the warriors with a similar build and washing his clothes. The dark leather pants fit tight around my thigh and calf but were the right length. I stuck with the light underlayer he wore under his armor for the shirt. Even in its tattered state, it was much better than the shirtless option I had going for me. The fit was a bit snug, but I found the material light enough to allow airflow. I borrowed the wide-brimmed hat from one of the travelers to complete my look. Unfortunately, I didn''t manage to save the travelers. They were under too much heavy fire, and their defenses weren''t strong enough to protect them, even after I had intervened. Next time, I''d be faster. My failures didn''t stop me from rummaging through their supplies. It looked like they were preparing for an entire week of feasting. If I remembered correctly, the mid-summer festival was maybe in a week or two. The celebration of the Deliverer''s rise to power happened twice a year. Food was sold at a discount, which was paid for by the empire, and the people of Alderi feasted and danced for the entire week. The celebration served as a reminder that the Deliverer freed every cultivator from a soul tax¡ªa tradition that happened in nearly every empire outside of Alderi. The traditional tax was based on the powerful''s right to claim a bit of each individual''s progress for letting them live. It was a twisted practice, and the fact that the Emperor of Alderi had done away with it had gained him as much fame as the elven Princess of Lumin. He certainly gained as much notoriety for his actions. As Alderi bled the population of its neighboring country, Greia, tension between the two empires rose. I didn''t buy it. Two powerhouses had too much power and were simply looking for ways to wave their bigger sticks around. Also, the Deliverer could rot in Ao''s bloody pits. He may act benevolent for all to see. I knew first hand he was a festering rot. He may not be requiring a life tax, but he certainly bled his citizens one way or another. I finished snacking on the cheeses and smoked meat and lined my pockets with more credits. I would have plenty to buy passage to a larger city where I''d have a better chance at finding answers to my questions. The only other item of value I found was a couple small jugs of mead. It wasn''t up to feast standards but would be enough to satiate my parched lips. I unscrewed the cork and took a long drink. It had a hint of berries and a soft kick. I took another sip, letting the flavors wash in my mouth. I screwed the lid back on the jug, threw it strap over my shoulder, regretted my decision, and took another three sips. When my thirst was quenched, I turned to my prisoner. Selene''s abyss: I didn''t want to do this. I didn''t even know what I was doing. I couldn''t kill the girl. I took another drink as I propped myself on the upturned wagon. Just as I watched the bloomer in my ice, she sat and watched me. Her body was still, her breathing regular, and she relaxed her back against the ice while she picked at her nails. The pruning session seemed more a habit than a nervous tick. She whispered a few words, none of which I could hear, and continued to clean her fingers. Strange girl. When I first trapped her, she begged for her life. Her safety wasn''t guaranteed, yet she acted like she didn''t have a care in the world. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. I listened to the sloshing of the mead inside my jug as I swished it around. It was still around half full. Perhaps just talking to the girl would be the best option. No. Leaving would be the best option and exactly what I should be doing. But maybe she had more knowledge about the development of the bandit guild inside the city. That could be a worthwhile endeavor to pursue. I didn''t care to be a hero right now, but knowing how to save the town would be helpful when I was through with the loop. If I get good enough, I could even save it indiscriminately. But what would I ask her? I knew full well I was stalling. This didn''t even have anything to do with being bait. I was just plain stumped, or more so nervous about the interaction. What was I supposed to say, ''Hey, sorry for killing your friends; if you talk, I won''t kill you as well.'' Actually, that might work¡­ Probably not. That''s the problem with being a side character. When it was time to step out into the light, it felt too exposing. I took another long swig, considered how my squad would''ve handled the situation, and hopped off my chair. "Don''t try anything funny," I said, approaching the girl. The healer brushes her blonde hair aside as she looks at me with her beady eyes. I hadn''t noticed it before, but her face clung tightly to her bone structure, which seemed nearly translucent. The tightness of her face made her bluish lips and eyes look extra large. ¡°Pl-pl-please sa-s-sir.¡± Her arms wrapped around her body. "L-let me me out. I will do whatever you ask." Oh. Sweet abyss. I was freezing her. I cursed as I considered my options and picked the worst choice. I dismissed my ice prison and filled our immediate area with warm vapors. The warming technique was a work in progress, but the bloomer seemed to appreciate it. Her shaking stopped, and color returned to her lips. Her features still appeared exaggerated, but that wasn''t a cold issue. "Listen, I can''t have you trying anything," I said to the bloomer. "Do you understand?" The bloomer bit her lips and nodded. Though her confirmation was positive her shifty eyes had me doubting. "Alright, let''s get ya some food, then we''ll talk. Good? The bloomer devoured all the bread, fruit, and smoked meat set aside for the travelers to feast upon. She grabbed a barrel of her own to wash down her appetite. Then, let out an obscene belch. I almost killed her on the spot. The habit was worse than picking at nails, and she had both. Leaving her in the ice would''ve been best. I could''ve figured out a way to keep her warm. Selene''s hairy pits. The girl was only a stack of blankets away from a delightful rest one would find in an inn a few miles outside of town. Next time, I just kill them all quickly. I was trying to be more calloused anyway. I waited for her to finish another course before she cleared her mouth to speak. "How do you want to do this? The bloomer looked at me with large, shifty eyes. The confidence she presented before was a facade. Clearly, she was shaken. "If you cooperate, this will be painless." The life lancer begins unbuttoning her leather jerkin. "Stop!" I practically yelled, holding my hand ready to freeze the bloomer. The healer''s cheeks flushed, and her hand rested on the last button holding her top together. "What are you doing?" "What do you mean what am I doing?" She batted her eyes and smiled timidly. "You saved me for this." "Sogg''s balls, I did¡ª" It was a terrible curse given the context. But the Lord of Flames probably understood. "Button your shirt up." "Oh, you want to be the one to remove¡ª" "Nope. Stop. No, don''t stop buttoning¡­ there''s been a misunderstanding." This has gone to hell. "No, I understand what is expected. You killed everyone, but your perversion stayed your hand when you looked upon my innocence." "Lady, I didn''t kill you because I thought you might have answers." "It is OK. I am not as innocent as I look. I saw you preparing yourself for this moment. I admit I am flattered by your consideration. It was not necessary. I have heard enough about your people; I know your ways and customs." The bloomer flashed a smile, showcasing her immaculate teeth, and her eyes sparkled with lust. Light radiated from her skin. I muttered another curse. The bloomer was trying to charm me. My nibbling theory had seemingly gone to shit. I caged the bloomer in a shell of ice. Her playful smile turned sour at the rejection, and she screamed obscenities into my frozen wall, digging her wickedly curved dagger into it. I flashed a smile back at the distressed damsel as I waited for the rest of the trap to spring. 43. Sophisticated Robbery A weightless step crunched a thin layer of ice behind me. On instinct, I summoned a wall of ice which. The light spear aimed for the back of my neck crashed into my shield with a thud. Without turning around, I solidified water mana that I''d been dispersing as a light haze over the ground. I heard more cussing behind me before I even turned to see my assailant. For good measure, I added more mana to the ground, further solidifying the foot trap for the creeper. Though I couldn''t sense the light lancer, I could feel exactly where she was now that she was stuck in my ice. My aura still washed over her, making me less confident in my ability. It also raised the question of what kind of build the creeper had. "It''s no use hiding anymore. I know where you are, and you can''t escape my trap." I fend off several ice spears and at least a dozen bolts made of glass. The tiny quarrels were nearly impossible to track. Luckily, I had my guard up. I walked a few steps closer, completely protected. "This is your last chance to talk." "Do you have any idea who you are dealing with?" The light lancer asked. "Nope. But I''d appreciate it if you enlightened me." The lancer dropped her veil and appeared before me. Her disheveled bob cut matched the death scowl plastered on her face quite well. She stood a few inches taller than me, and her layered metal pauldrons accentuated her stocky build. Nothing about her looks like an assassin or rogue, yet her fighting and combat prowess resembled those classes. "The night grows dark, and blood runs rich." Zealous fervor laced the creeper''s words; her passion almost ran as thick as her hatred of me, which radiated from her glare. Selene''s sweet abyss. This was no guild I was dealing with. "The lord awakens at the high turn." "You can stop." "His thirst must be quenched." The creeper bit her lips. Blood trickled down, and she eyed me more seductively than the bloomer had, which ranked the light lancer''s seduction technique to at least a level ten¡ªand she was only using her eyes and¡­blood. I pulled my sword from her heart before she could entangle me deeper in her blood magic. Blood cults could be the absolute worst. I inspected the squire closer looking for anything valuable on her corpse. She had on her a set of ritual daggers, a note written in a script I couldn''t understand, and a pouch full of cores. The creeper was rich. So why was the bloomer so famished? That didn''t add up. I turned to my prisoner to make sense of the encounter. It was no use. She''d slit her own throat. What in the bloody abyss did I stumble into? Curiosity nipped at the back of my mind, begging me to dig deeper and find what was happening. When it came to cults, they were never not shady. It was what made them so fun, to begin with. Shared religious fervor for a common cause guaranteed a good time. On the other side of the coin, crazed cults spelled disaster. There was no messing with them without getting a little bit bloody. Blood cults took that idea to the extreme and added sex, murder, and drugs. Though not all blood cults functioned like a vampire masquerade, they had ties to more prominent cults that did. The ''parties'' of the blood cults were so unruly that any type of cult associated with blood had been driven from the entire Agoria continent. If there was one thing the two warring empires could agree on, it was that blood cults were bad for business. Hell, a quarter of our missions in the military were investigating cult activity. The other half was fighting off the horde. So what was a blood cult doing here? How had it gotten so prominent they were willing to strike on an open road only a few miles outside of town. Surely, they would know that their blatant attack would be noticed. Did they want to be discovered? Most likely, I was part of some elaborate scheme of an extended roleplay. I shivered at the thought. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. As much as the mystery itched at my curiosity, this wasn''t a blood loop. I made camp several miles away from the dead. Walking into town at night''s end wouldn''t be a good idea, and I wanted to avoid further complications.
My research into mind resistance proved to be fruitless, a conclusion I reached after visiting several libraries in three different cities. Cyanne barely had a building and enough books to qualify as a library, so I didn''t spend more than a day there. Landfall, the port city east of Cyanne, had an expansive selection of marine life, sailing, neighboring islands, and an in-depth history of horde invasions. The librarians boasted they had a first-hand account of the hordes'' first raid. One interesting detail about the raid a thousand years ago was that it only consisted of goblins. Kobolds didn''t join until two hundred years later, and bugbears have only been raiding for the last century. The furry brutes have more than made up for their loss in time and were often referred to as the bane of coasts. My homeland of Kukoa had more than enough encounters with the raiders. I thought marine life might have valuable knowledge, but I just found some random facts about cephalopods that I didn''t think applied to Squids. Alder, the capital city of Alderi, had several libraries throughout its providence. Most were public, but a few private ones served only wealthy guilds or cults. Alder had the most extensive catalog of books in various categories. The most prominent shelved books were on cultivation and agriculture. I scoured the cultivation texts for information on mind mana, essence, and parasites. My research nearly emptied my heavy pockets due to traveling fees and discretion dues. I didn''t even care about the latter, but both head librarians I talked to in Alder demanded the dues be paid so they could ensure their own safety. I learned more from scammy librarians than from the books¡­ because there were no books on mind lancers. As far as libraries and books were concerned, mind lancers weren''t even a thing. Nor were flayens or other people with tentacle faces. I even checked the children''s books to see if there were depictions in their fantasies of the monsters. There was nothing except concerned librarians. So either I was being scammed, mind magic was censored, the information was limited, or it didn''t exist¡ªat least not in this empire. Despite my shortcomings, my research was worthwhile. I did some side study on class builds. My ranger class was becoming an equal mix of physical and mental levels. Which was fine for the first rank of the class. Obtaining my next rank and upgrading the class further required choosing between body or mind leveling exclusively. I could be a strong or smart ranger¡ªa warden or arcane ranger. None of the class guides recommended mixing up mind and body levels after the first round of reforging. Reforging happened at every nine levels in a specific essence. My mind was ready for the reforging process. The only thing stopping me from taking the step was my lack of knowledge, which I was gaining, and my distrust of Squids. Something prevented him from hijacking my mind previously, and the way he''d pushed me to invest solely in my mind essence made me wonder if it had something to do with my rank. He did mention my inferiority a couple times at least. Maybe he wasn''t mocking me but more lamenting that he couldn''t obtain what he desired. Trusting squids less was never a bad policy, and I didn''t need a library''s wealth of information to confirm my suspicions, although it would''ve been nice. That meant my mind reforging was on hold for the foreseeable future. That left me with three levels of body essence that I needed to gain and all of my spirit essences. The spirit essences would shift my class from a ranger to that of classless. If I told anyone my plans, they would throw a fit about how I was destroying my soul by becoming classless, and if I were on the same path as them, I would agree. I was on a different path. I had an opportunity like no one else. Classes were more identity and established paths than benefits to the cultivator. They did offer advantages, but the perks were minor. Becoming a ranger didn''t give me bow skills or make me good at tracking. I became a ranger because I had bow skills and was good at tracking. I cultivated physical and mental levels that bolstered those two skills. Frankly, I thought it would be wasteful not to cultivate all of my essences. I had the time and endless chances to do so. I finished the loop a couple days later while reading a book I borrowed from the library. The headmaster was adamant I couldn''t bring food into his sacred archive. No matter how many excuses and justifications I threw at him, he wouldn''t budge. So I brought the book with me and enjoyed an exquisite brunch. I spared no expense, ordering the entire menu. I would die full, happy, and satisfied. Hopefully, I could bury research failures and annoyances in gluttony. My plan moving forward was to put off mind reforgement until I was more confident in my anti-possession skills. Until then, I''d dangle my unprotected mind before Tenty, hoping to lure out some clues. 44. Veiled Threats I woke up standing in a puddle of water. My hand stretched out. Blue refreshing mana accumulated on my fingers. Tenty lied on the ground next to my impaled body. His body and face sprawled from when he died. I was a bit disappointed that I died before I could finish my cake. It was rich, had a nice bitter contrast, and a mild sweet cream on top. Actually, eating as much cake as I did might''ve been the death of me. "Do not do that again." I thought I heard the dead octopus man speaking. I probably should''ve spent less time reading and spared a few minutes to socialize. But, Ao''s breath, I hated trying to force myself into casual conversation. How did one even start? Now, I was paying for the consequences of my seclusion. The dead were talking. "What are you musing on about?" I decided to engage. "Mostly just the laments of the lonely," I said. "You are an odd orc¡­ even for orc standards." "I know." I probably shouldn''t humor myself, but the dead squid had a point. "I''m too soft, for starters, and I''m about a head shorter than the average orc. That did a number on one''s confidence when power was what people desired. That was just superficial details, too. Below the surface¡ª "Stop talking to yourself. I am trying to be serious." I sounded a lot like Squids, and my voice projection skills should be applauded. "I''m not talking to myself. I''m talking to you through me. It sounds the same. But I assure you it''s different. If only a little bit." "I am not dead." "I know. You live on in my heart. As do all my friends." Ah, shit. Here we go, getting sappy at the beginning of the loop. At least I didn''t start this one crying. That was embarrassing¡­ and I was alone. "You''re in good company, Squids." Perhaps it was time to leave and seek out people. I really didn''t want to, though. This loop would be a testing loop, so I''d have a nice measuring stick for the subsequent loops. The fight with the bandits was an eye-opener. Never before would I''ve been able to fight off ten cultivators at once. Not only could I defeat them, my injuries weren''t permanent. And that was only with me being a templar for a week or so. I didn''t even break out my special powers of skewerless roasting. The blood cultists would''ve been dazzled. Shame shame. "Stop calling me Squids. It is highly offensive. You do not see me calling you ape-man, do you? Besides, I already told you my name is Calypso. I think you are just trying to be rude." The mention of the name flashed memories through my mind. There was fire and tears, and the forest was leveled. Great powers fought, while I laid in agony. Blood drained from my face, and a pit dropped in my stomach. I pulled my right hand up so that I could inspect it. All was well. My heart thudded as I brought my left hand forward. I had both hands. The relief was instant, and I let out a long sigh. I had forgotten an entire loop, a long, painful loop, and still, some of my memory was gone. I had parts of the puzzle, but most pieces didn''t fit together, and I was sure I was missing a few. How did the forest catch on fire? What happened to the trees, and what about the powerful cultivators fighting? My missing hand made sense. All the memories about that incident were perfectly clear until I chopped a couple of trees with my ax hand. The fight with the beasts was also clear. It was a desperate, bloody battle that I barely survived. I remembered creating an elixir using the wolfbear''s refined cores, my body burning, and¡­ Tents¡ªCalypso crying. Bloody pits. The solution. Did he make me forget?" Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. "So, can we have a reasonable conversation yet?" Cal''s voice lacked the irritating tone that usually accompanied his words. However, I still had the impression that his arms were tightly folded, his fingers on his right hand tapped on his side, and his face displeased. I killed him. I let the thought slip. "Obviously not. I am still here." "I hurt you," I said, sinking in the thought. "I''d rather not talk about it. Please, there is much we should discuss." "Like?" "Your new rank, our plan? Goals? Anything that resembles direction. It is good you have reached a new realm. You are still far too weak for what is to come." "And what is to come?" "Death. A whole lot of death." "How long?" "The shadow plague hits in four years. My people come shortly after that to either a world of ash or under the tyranny of the Shadow Shaman Queen. After that¡­ well, the chances of this world surviving are a drop in the ocean''s abyss." "Alright, Calypso. You''ve got my ear. Start talking. First, teach me how to get rid of you, defend myself against your attacks, protect my people, and teach me some of your tricks." The list of requests seemed reasonable to me. If the flayen wanted me to work with him, he''d have to start working with me, and since it was my mind that was at stake, it was only fair I set the conditions. "I¡­ I can not share this knowledge with you. It could lead to my people being taken advantage of. I will share some other techniques with you, though." That wasn''t good enough. "Stop. I am trying to help you. We need a plan." "I have a plan." It was technically true. My plans had somewhat shifted. Instead of using a day to socialize, I was headed to the dungeon. I added an extra layer of ice to my frozen body and pulled the stake from the ground. With my body in tow, I headed into the forest, anchoring and securing the life preserve to a tree. I really needed a name for my dead body¡­ Iceman... The Freeze... It needed to be cool and simple. "I will tell you all that I can," Cal said. I passed the barrier, turned at the landing, and walked down the narrow path. Cal continued to fire inquiries the entire time. "What do we have here?" The awakened wolfbear asked as I knocked on her cavern wall. This approach always resulted in a fight, as did all encounters with Lips, but it was the most polite start. I heard the steps of the earth templar as she stomped to the entrance. "Oh my. You look delicious." I punched Lipper square in the mouth with a massive frozen fist; the force and power behind the blow cracked the stone skin armor. "You dare¡ª" Lips dodged my volley of ice spikes. She called for the earth to bury me, and I felt the ice covering the ground shaking. An extra layer of ice further solidified my hold. I pressed the attack with a relentless storm of ice arrows anchored into her body. I''m creating a dozen a second. Bareskin has to keep her guard up. Not only did she have to protect herself from ice arrows, but ice spears stabbed at her from the surfaces of the frozen cavern. She pulled back deeper into her lair. All of her attacks had been rendered useless with my own counters. I knew her attacks too well, and her tricks had a tell. I predicted every action up to her charging toward me and then fleeing. If the small cavern wasn''t frozen solid, it would have shaken when Lipper ran into the ice wall. The combination of her power and speed dazed the templar for a moment. In the past, I made the mistake of closing on the fallen foe. It only took a few deaths in previous loops to learn it was a bad idea. However, I wasn''t the same fighter I was before. Along with powered shots from my bow, ice blocks formed at the top ceiling and fell. Lips summoned earth mana to encase her. Before her shell formed, ice boulders crashed into her, breaking her exterior shell and cracking her armor. I didn''t give her a chance to repair the crack near her heart, and as the glass-like stone reformed, it secured the arrow protruding from her chest as well as her death. The echo of the fallen templar muffled against melting walls. "Impressive," Cal said. I wasn''t done. 45. Calculated Distractions The fight against the wolfbears was a bloody massacre. Instead of improving my strength and endurance, I was testing my power. The storm of arrows proved effective against the earth templar, but I wanted to test its limits against a more numerous opponent. I had to rely on my dome for cover as I worked through the arrow storm. With safety guaranteed, I reshaped the arrows into circular blades with jagged, razor-sharp edges. I practiced controlling a blade, learning how to attack without losing it. It was a delicate process, and I found the technique of just connecting to my blade needed improvement. The control I had over it was rudimentary and singular. I could only connect to one blade, and movement was limited to up, down, back, and forward. If my saw hit anything, my connection was lost and needed to be reestablished if I still wanted control. I had to maintain focus on my blade and actively open and shut my dome so that the blades could exit and enter. Fortunately, only a thought was needed to control my shell. This was only possible because I was a templar and could connect to external water mana. As I practiced, hundreds of wolfbears tore into my shell. Their clawing pierced their high-pitched laughter, which became too much to bear. I threw handfuls of flashbangs into the dense pack, creating a layer of frozen beasts. The laughter was barely stifled, but the clawing had stopped. With my focus renewed, I began working on my razors once more. After several attempts, I''d gotten to the point where I could maintain a connection through contact. I was still limited to one blade. After trying different techniques, I learned that using my aura to handle the control made a significant difference. Oddly, my aura acted like a second hand. No, it was tendrils. I had strings of connection wherever my aura existed. The tighter I kept my aura, the more influence my tendrils had. The concept took a lot of work to maintain. It was one thing knowing water surrounded me. It was another to believe that the water around me could be strong enough to move objects. The lack of belief worked against me. Mana manipulation required a solid will; there wasn''t room for doubt regarding commanding energy. I hammered away at my doubts as I stood in my shell and practiced with my aura. Even though over a thousand spirit beasts surrounded me, I focused on the ice razor before me. My secondary task had become my primary task. I didn''t feel shame for the distraction. The practice was necessary to develop my talents as a templar. Distractions were important. I condensed my aura to only a few feet around me. I could see through it clearly, yet it felt like standing in a thick rain cloud. Inside the tight aura, I formed balls of ice until I had a dozen floating before me. I pressed down on the beads and felt a bit of resistance. It was still too weak. I cut back to a single ball and wrapped all the surrounding tendrils around it. When I pushed down, it took the weight of my hand to move it. I was making progress. I spun more strings of water mana around the orb. This time, it took a heavier push to move the ball down. All excitement of my progress dashed to pieces when I tried to move the ball without touching it. My ball of ice was firmly tied to its position. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Rope¡­ Sweet abyss. All I needed was rope; the answer had dangled in front of me this entire time. I left my ball hanging as I summoned a new razor, anchored it to my right hand, and then connected it to my left hand. For the next hour, I practiced whipping and recalling my razor. From the outside, it probably looked like I was dancing. Inside, I felt like I was breaking through tremendous barriers. I lost track of time as I danced with my connected razor. The motions became natural. Each movement flowed into the next. When I felt comfortable, I added another razor. By the time I finished, I had seven razors roped to me. It took immense focus and will to keep my razors active, but it wasn''t enough to connect them to my left hand and anchor them to my right. The feat required me to create seven separate anchors and connections. I used all of my fingers, my arms, and legs. The dance got much more complicated, and I probably looked like a freak show. However, with Lana''s musical talents, we could probably create an elegant battle. My will hardened as I honed my skill to the song Goldi only sang for me. I stepped past my floating ball that had been chiseled away by razors and out of my dome. The immediate ground was a bit wet from the melting beasts. The ones on the outskirts had already been devoured. I sent out my blades and whipped them around as I walked deeper into the den. The thick fur of the wolfbears carved away under my storming razors. The dance of frozen ice was in full force, cutting and slicing. When one blade was destroyed, another was summoned. Beasts that once were confident and overjoyed at the chance for feasting fled from my aura of razors and blood. "Kain¡ªKip¡­" Tent''s words blurred into another note to the chaotic symphony of our masquerade. As beasts fled, I expanded my aura to the extent of my reach. When that wasn''t far enough, I added Snowpiercer to the mix. There was no escaping my murderous wrath. When the den had been cleared, I stepped into the jungle and started a new bloody song. No tree stood at the end. Swamps flooded with death, and corpses laid everywhere. Not even the devouring tunnel could be recognized. I was a terror blood cults would fear. My thorough cleansing of the jungle was not just a practice ground for my budding skill. It was a punching bag for all I didn''t want to feel. To be soft was too hard. To care was too hard. Only one thing mattered. Saving my friends. All else could be damned. A tongue clicked in the back of my mind. I gave it no more attention. Calypso would be dealt with when I was ready. There was still much to be destroyed. A small opening was located in the southwest corner of the room, covered by thick jungle overgrowth. I''d cut through the jungle before but had never noticed this peculiar spot. A rat beast could walk through the tunnel on its hind feet if it ducked. My broad build would keep me from squeezing through. I increased the mass of my razors and chipped away at my new target, gaining inches in hours. My focus burned, and my channels strained under the constant attacks. I was nearing my limits. Not bad, considering the hours of fighting I''d been through. Most of which I didn''t even have a weapon¡­ or rather, I was the weapon. Razor whips were just the surface. Eventually, I could develop the skill further and use it to master my aura and domain. Until then, I''d cut away all that stood before me. It''d been a while since I fought the rat pack. My old nemesis learned to fear me long before I became a templar. However, not a single rat, alive or dead, stepped into the jungle today. They''d been hiding, and it was time to find out what they were doing in their secret lair. I pushed away the temptation to rest and clawed my way forward. Every inch closer, a deep, hungry energy reached for me. 46. Dethroning Kings The rat king had gnawed through his entire kingdom. Soggy''s son of a sow had gorged its way to power much like the wolfbears. The hefty rat king laid back on a pile of bones that looked minuscule compared to him. His belly protruded as it breathed in and out. The smell of the lair was that of rotten eggs and burnt hair. Despite the rat''s prone figure, I had to look up to meet Hefty''s eyes. They were pale, beady, and empty. "It-t-t is not-t-t nice t-t-to keep a King wait-t-ting. I am afraid you mis-sed the feast-t-t." What was the deal with awakened beasts and their distaste for waiting? First Lips. Now Heft? Did they really think they were royalty? I didn''t want to talk to Heft, and it wasn''t just because of his poor hygiene. Lipper wasn''t much better, and we spoke sentences together¡­ sometimes during the same loop. Sure, Helf''s scent played a large part, but I didn''t like his ratty speech. Maybe that made me a bad person. I''d come to terms with it. "What-t-t is the matter." Somehow, Heft knew his style of speech irked me, and he picked his words accordingly. "T-t-thought-t-t that it would be a nest of rats. The rat-t-ts are still here. They are t-t-talking to you, the intrud-d-der." Now, I knew for a fact that Heft was speaking with a rat stutter on purpose, which made me feel like a less lousy person. I still wanted to kill him. The bones covering the floor rattled. Minions began forming. Heft created momentum from his belly and rolled towards me like a massive barrel. As he rolled, the bones piled onto his body, tripling his mass. My instincts were to run, but that was usually my go-to reaction. I created an ice dome and secured it in place. As Heft collided with my dome, it shook with great energy, and a crack ran down the middle. The bones inside my shell came to life. Palers were all a bunch of cheats, and the rat king was no different. Instead of repairing my dome, I ran. Once a coward, always a coward. That was the coward''s creed, and that was how they continued to survive. Heft pounded on my shell, and skeletons gnawed on the ice. The banging and chattering echoed loudly in the dead cavern. Sog''s pits. I couldn''t lead Heft out here. The paler would go nuts in the dead playground. I ran back to the entrance, cursing the coward for his foolish flight. Sometimes, the best way to escape was to drown the opposition. I added another layer of ice to the barricade and fixed the cracks. Then, I emptied my cores and filled the lair with water. Summoned water and mana inside my core wasn''t a one-to-one ratio. Even with my tired channels, I had plenty of energy to flood the frozen lair. As the water level rose, the plight of the skeletons rose with it. To Heft''s credit, he was a crafty rat who could swim with the best aquatic creatures. His back stroked in mockery of my waters. However, his taunts turned to panic as he discovered that the water kept rising and that he could not escape. It wasn''t a pretty kill, and the rat king struggled for an uncomfortable duration. I witnessed the painful seconds as the rat''s panic turned to fury and desperation. In the end, it wasn''t the water that killed the king, but a bone spear pierced through his heart. After absorbing the mana back into my core, I sat down and rested. I rubbed the tension spots around my head and let my channels simmer. It would be at least an hour before I could perform a minor summon without experiencing excruciating pain. The threat of passing out from mana exhaustion would last for another two hours. I wasn''t in a good spot, but the dungeon had been completely cleared. No¡­ the dungeon was almost cleared. There was still the matter of the crawlers at the entrance and the dark cavern they scattered to that needed to be explored. It was the one cavern in this dungeon I had refused to investigate. Then there was the loot. I already knew Lips had nothing of interest, and the beasts offered little. The rat king, however, was a strange beast. I thought he was a summons of the tunnel, but he seemed to be an entity of his own. The rat had one object of note. His staff. The wooden walking stick was as long as my body. It curved at the top and had a handle of woven cord a couple feet from the top. The bark had been stripped, and the exposed wood had etchings of a strange script covering it. My hand fit comfortably around the stick and it had an unexpected weight. It was loaded with mana. I stared at it for several minutes, not making sense of what it was capable of or how to use it other than as a support. There was a good chance I also had the wrong mana for it. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Heavy casting classes like wizards, sorcerers, and clerics often used staff or wands to enhance their casting capabilities. The wands added force and range to their spells. I didn''t get the impression that this staff was used for launching spells. I had felt those types of weapons before, and the rat''s staff felt completely different. Once I felt recovered, I grabbed the staff and left the lair. I collected the gem from Roots, the tunnel boss, before returning to the wolfbear''s cavern. Over a thousand cores needed to be collected. As I observed the riches, a panic rose in my mind. I spent a couple hours collecting the bodies into one pile and cutting out the first hundred cores. After a break for food, my channels and will felt fresh enough that I could start training again. Ice razors formed at my side. I directed the blades to cut, starting a new round of butchery. When cores were exposed enough, I pulled them from the dead beasts and added them to my growing pile. "Kip, you need to stop ignoring me." Funny Tents would say that. The parasite had ignored me for years now. I winced, trying to ignore the ache growing in my head. I found no relief and had to push through to collect my cores. My pile was an island in a pool of blood. I was up to eight razor blades and extracted a dozen cores every ten seconds. Though the process was more wearing than physical labor, I was much quicker. "What do you mean to ignore?" Squids asked, his voice laced with concern. "I was trying to recover. You nearly destroyed this loop and damned us." As a mountain of cores grew from an island, the tension in my head became unbearable. I needed to rest but had no place to sit. I took a break from extracting cores and massaged my temples. It didn''t help. The pain had spread. "Stop messin'' with my mind," I said through gritted teeth. Luckily, I didn''t feel the gross liquids as I took a knee and endured the assault. This wasn''t mana exhaustion. "I will not let you do this," Cal said. "Think a headache will stop me?" I laughed. "You''ve any idea what I endured on that stake?" I rested a moment longer, regained my fortitude, and pushed past the pain. An ice cauldron full of water appeared in front of me. As the water boiled, I added cores. My technique got a bit sloppy between the breaks and yelling in pain. Betty would''ve had a riot. "You do not want to do this." Calypso''s voice sounded sullen and sincere. "I know your thoughts." "Get out." "I cannot. I have my own promise, just as you have yours. We are not enemies." "Then I will swallow every elixir and burn you out." "You would not risk it." My mind flared in pain. "Didn''t stop me before." "You were ignorant." "So you thought." Act foolish enough, and everyone sees a fool. I raised the cup of refined elixir to my mouth. My head nearly burst in pain as the shimmering liquid touched my lips. "Please stop." I spat out the bitter brew and wiped the grit off my teeth. I kept my cup in hand, though, as there was still plenty of drink left. "You need to understand one thing, Cal, you are in my head. I''m in control." I took a deep swig of squid poison to enforce the point. Calypso and I shouted. "Now get out." I summoned an orb of water and shaped it into a small bird of prey. My fine control over water brought my thoughts into reality. It took extra focus, but runes covered the water falcon after a few minutes of diligent effort. Only one piece was missing. "You are linked to me, right? As long as that link remains, this loop remains. That doesn''t mean you have to stay in my head." "Kip¡ª" I tipped the mug to my mouth and swallowed. Everywhere felt like fire. I was so hot, moldy, and covered in sweat, dirt, and blood. Some of the blood might even be my own. "Put the rancid fluid down. Give me a minute, and I will leave." "I''m gonna sip and sit." I summoned a chair. "The longer you take, the more miserable this will be." I took another sip. This one, much smaller. My mind popped after my fifth sip. A wave of nausea washed over me, and my head flashed with a bright light. When my eyes recovered and I could make sense of my situation, I saw my bird drowning in blood. I scooped up Calypso and washed the muck from his form. To my surprise, my craftsmanship was incredible. Perhaps it was a strong tie to water or the relentless training I endured. Somehow, I created a realistic-looking bird. 47. Taming Falcons Cal shook in my hand, not bothering to stand. I cupped the water fowl, the bird looked as natural as any falcon I''d seen. A chuckle escaped. I always wanted a pet companion. Rangers practically had the need for a bond ingrained in their souls¡ªa tool to heighten awareness, cover blind spots, and provide company. A creation of water housing my mind parasite wasn''t what I had in mind. Birds were cool, dragons were better, and I thought I''d at least end up with a wolf or a bear. The flayen may look like a falcon, but he was a long shot from being the companion I wanted. For one, he didn''t act like a bird, which was fair. If the roles were switched and I was in a bird suit, I''d be just as disoriented. "Really? I was the guardian of my nation''s most prized possession, and this is what you would have me be? At least give me human skin to wear." "I can''t." The falcon stared at me intensely with the one eye facing me. The other was covered by my hand as if Cal were using it as a pillow. "I won''t." "Why not?" Calypso asked. "I don''t trust you." "And this makes me trustworthy?" "No. But I feel less inclined to punch you in the face." I still had issues with Cal. He''d been in my mind for a couple of years now, and there was no way of knowing what he had done there. Cal jerked his head up, trying to generate momentum to reach his feet. He squandered the attempt, and his head crashed back down on my hand. The flayen bird tried again and again. If he was trying to fight, he had terrible technique. I''d no fowl experience myself, but I at least knew to lead with the beak or talons. Even if he was a foreigner, he had to see a chicken fight or two. I aided Cal''s fourth attempt by pushing the jerking head. Cal''s body sprung upright, his talons digging into my forearm. My off-hand caught him and provided support before he rocked over to the other side. The talons released their grip from within my skin. I healed the small punctures and washed away the little blood on my arm. The falcon looked at my hand, holding it upright, and attacked it with its beak. I strangled the bird, which turned into a puddle when I squeezed too hard. I waited for the presence to land in my mind before speaking. "Ao''s tangled jewels. What in the bloody abyss was that for?" "I was a bird. That is what I frecking do." "Pecking?" "What? No. Frecking¡­ it is our term for¡ªnever mind. Do not put me back in that skin. I am not leaving here unless you give me a real body. Preferably one like my own." "That one had a beak..." "I hate you." "''Ae. I believe we just took our first step in companionship bonding." The words felt just as wrong saying them as it did hearing them, and I even tried masking them as a joke. The truth was that bonding with a companion had several stages. The first was resistance. The second was finding common ground. The third was acceptance. The other steps got far too chummy for my comfort level. There was no way I''d take this companionship past acceptance. Mutual hatred was as solid a ground as any to build upon. Probably too strong for the shaking structure I had in mind. I sat back in my chair and sipped on poison. The potent liquid hurt something fierce. Squids wailed in his confines, punching against my skull. I took another sip and then summoned another bird form. It was the same as the last but a bit larger. "No." I met the claws digging into my mind with another drink. The pain intensified and dulled at the same time. Altogether, it took twenty swallows and sixteen iterations of water falcons before we reached the third and final stage of our companionship. "I still hate you," Calypso said. The bird perched on my forearm, standing a foot and a half tall, and his sharp razor-like wings tucked on his back. "What are you doing?" His serrated beak nipped at my finger as I scratched the side of his head, only to relent as I kept scratching. His head rested on my finger, and he let out a click. "This changes nothing." "If we are to work together, there will be changes." "Is this not enough?" This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Not even close. You will start teaching me all you know about your mind magic." "I cannot." "I don''t care. You will teach and train me how to resist your attacks and any attacks your people might send my way. You will then teach me all about your people and your plans. And I want to know everything you have been doing inside my mind and your strategy to possess me." "Even if I told you all my secrets, you would not believe me. Why persist with the theatrics?" "All of your secrets. Then you will tell me what you know about me and what happened in your two hundred years of looping. Do you understand?" The falcon looked at me with a crooked head. He winced when I swallowed another round of poison. My channels felt like ash. The fact that mana cycled freely throughout them was a miracle. "Do you understand?" "Yes." "Good. Let''s start with building mind resistance." For the next several days, I underwent grueling mental training while Cal learned to be a bird. We were both terrible. Squids weren''t meant to fly, and birds were terrible teachers. However, I did manage to pick up a few wins. Mind resistance was like creating a castle within your mind. All one had to do was envision the mind as a sanctuary of thoughts and being and then construct mental protections to keep the sanctuary safe. It sounded more straightforward than it was. Gathering my identity and storing it in one location was like scooping up a handful of water and then transporting it to another spot without losing a drop. Often, thoughts returned to the collective ocean or refused to be gathered in the first place. It wasn''t possible to build protection around the entire mind either. Or rather, a sanctuary of that size was harder to fortify. Fortunately, I hated the thought of mind possession more than I hated failure, and the more I failed, the more comfortable I became with my shortcomings. Failure was alright once one got used to it. It almost became an expected familiarity. What I respected about the big ''F'' was that it was consistent and predictable. Failure didn''t let anyone down. It was the unreasonable expectation that caused the pain. All failure did was tone the edges of reason. With enough practice, it became a hammer that tempered the blade. I embraced failure and persisted through all types of mental constructs in an attempt to create and secure my mind. Calypso wasn''t as enthused with failure as I was. The falcon could glide at best, and that was only if there was a decent draft in the cave and I gave him an initial throw. It was a terrible technique. Often, he took long breaks and peppered me with insults. He called it tutoring. I called him a hack. By the time the loop came to an end, I''d eaten several wolfbears, endured days of headaches, drank at least a gallon of poison, and heard every insult about the races of Helm imaginable. I still couldn''t gather my wits in one place, and Cal was as terrible of a bird as he was a coffin buddy. Some might think I should''ve dropped the coffin incident by now. I would do my best to ignore those necrophiliacs at all costs. There were just some lines that weren''t meant to be crossed when it came to coffin time. Tents crossed all of them. The new loop had a little more slaughter than the last. After clearing the boss, den, jungle, and rat lair, I ventured into the dark cavern at the entrance and raged war on all the crawlers. I kept fire at my side to keep them at bay while practicing with my ice razors and other orbiting weapons. By the time the crawlers were cleared, I had reached up to twelve razors. Just as my blades improved, Cal got more proficient with his talons and beak. He''d take to the air with massive leaps, glide to a lone crawler, and tear it apart. Sometimes, the flayen took on a dozen at a time. His cautious approach worked in his favor, and he avoided getting swarmed all but once. The one failure, though, allowed him to grow much more proficient with his retreats. Cal would deny it if I asked, but I got the sense he was starting to like his new form. It certainly was better than being contained in my mind. I operated the space, and I didn''t like spending too much time there. It took one more loop of critter slaughter before Calypso could comfortably fly. The flayen was ecstatic. "I need a title," Cal said after looping in the dark cavern. He swooped high and low, twisting and turning his body. More than once, his sharp eyes locked onto an escaping crawler. He''d screech his challenge before diving at his foe and then caw in his victory. I expected squids to eventually come to terms with his form; birds flew, and every fish dreamed of the sky. Sweet abyss. I even wished I could fly. The screeching and cawing, however, took me by surprise. Perhaps my bird shaping was too good¡­ and now he wanted a title? "What for?" I asked. "I have reached a great stage in progression." "It''s like learning to walk." "You call them toddlers¡­" "Why do you need a title?" "It would bring me great honor." I withheld a snarky response. Acceptance went both ways. If a title was important to Cal, I could give him a title. "Beaks of Thunder." "Beaks of Thunder¡­ Yes, this is a mighty name worthy of my glory." "So, Beaks, what''s your thoughts on moats?" "Impractical. I can fly." "Damn." "Yup. Hmm... Although, an underwater fortress would be hard to penetrate." Not what I had in mind, but the thought did encourage me to forgo dark cavern exploration and dive deeper into mind resistance. "Go ahead and explore. I''m gonna stay here and train." "You would only slow me down." Beaks launched from my shoulder and took flight. I lost him a second later in the great darkness, only to hear an occasional mighty caw. 48. Sanctuary Before diving into my mind sanctuary, I created a safe meditation space. Just because the bugs were dead didn''t mean I trusted them, and there were probably still hundreds of thousands of them lurking in the dark, waiting for me to put my guard down. I wasn''t falling for their antics. All of my guards were up. That included domes within domes, five domes deep, ice armor that covered me entirely, thick ice covering the ground, and a raised platform to sit on my chair comfortably. As an added measure, I flooded the space below me until the water level reached halfway to my platform. A part of me¡ªthat I''m embarrassed and ashamed to be associated with¡ªkinda wished the critters would rush my defenses. It was one thing to feel safe; it was another to watch my security in action. Once I felt safe, I dove into my mind and explored thoughts of sanctuary. My first attempt was to give up on collecting my being into one location and flooding my mind with an ocean of mental water. It felt murky, and if I hadn''t been sitting, there was a good chance I''d be a bit tipsy. However, I did get a sense that my mind was somewhat protected. I at least had a barrier between it and any intruder. Even if it didn''t keep attackers out, it might slow them down enough that I could deal with the threats in another way. Cal did mention that mind casters often fought one-on-one within the mind. Unfortunately, my enemies were probably master swimmers. An ocean wouldn''t be enough to keep me safe if I couldn''t act fast enough to intercept them. I was far from content with my sanctuary. I tried several other methods of collecting my being into a smaller place. All of my attempts of scooping, shoving, and begging proved unsuccessful. I didn''t want to self-aggrandize, but I couldn''t contain my entire being in one spot. A person was vast, and I was no different. With all my failures, I kept coming back to my first success. My mind was already wrapped by the ocean¡ªan ocean of my making. I controlled the waters. If I wanted it gone, it would be removed. If I wanted it to condense, it would. With a careful hand, I closed the waters around my being. Beliefs, memories, personality, and preferences had no physical form. Part of my struggle to grasp them earlier was because I couldn''t visualize the collection of these incorporeal things. The water flooding my mind wasn''t physical either; it wasn''t even mana; it was more of my will manifesting itself. I shaped the ocean within into a tight ball, condensing the barrier. I found the act similar to cultivating mana, which made the process less of an obscure experience. It took extra effort to push through the exterior of my mind. After I made it through, I simply tightened the liquid ball. While containing my mind, I learned that even though my being was incorporeal, each element had its own weight and density. Memories were the heaviest and least consistent in density; beliefs were the densest of the mind and only a little lighter than memories. Personality and preferences followed in that order. It made perfect sense to me. My memories shaped who I was; they gave me the experiences I needed to draw upon to make decisions. They tied me to my beliefs and shaped my character. Memories, in a sense, were the soul of the mind. Without them, a person was an empty vessel, adrift in an ocean of hollow thoughts. Not all memories were the same, either. Some could be forgotten without repercussions, some served as core pillars, and others surrounded the pillars, anchoring them to the mind. I ensured all my memories were collected, treating them like precious gems. Many of my beliefs were formed by my memories. The stronger the experience, the stronger the belief that developed. Watching my Pa hunt and respecting each life he took taught me that all life is valuable. I often caught my Ma sneaking food to others who''d fallen under hard times. I still remember her tear-filled eyes as they looked deeply into mine during our last goodbye. She held back so much of what she wanted to say and settled for only a handful. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. "Stay kind, and remember I will always love you." Ma''s words weren''t fit for a warrior starting new in a hard world, and I scoffed at them later with my buddy. However, as time wore on, her words found a place in my heart. My Ma and Pa didn''t care if I became powerful and rich. They just wanted me to be the person they raised me to be, to be a person I could live with. Value life and be kind¡ªquite possibly the two worst beliefs to have in this world. Yet, because of my memories, I struggled to change them. I didn''t want to change them even though they held me back. I wonder how they''d feel about me today if they saw who I was or what I''d done. Anyone else would give me a pass. I didn''t care what they thought. It was my parents, Lana, and myself that mattered. I already knew how I felt, and it wasn''t great. My Ma would probably hold me in a tight hug. Pa would pat me on the back and rub my head. He''d look me in the eye and ask if I was ''right. He wouldn''t push when I said nothing; he might ask if I were hungry or tell me about one of his hunting trips. Most likely, he''d sit by me and support me in silence. Selene''s abyss. I missed my mom''s hug and Pa''s supportive company. Lana would take one look at me and then burn down the world to get the one who caused me so much pain. After learning I was the problem, she would hold me and help me repair my broken pieces. I missed her the most. Extra care was taken when it came to memories of her. Personality or character was shaped by memories and beliefs. This was who I was¡­ how I carried my memories and acted on my beliefs. Death had whittled away much of my drive and passion, dulling my character. Although I was never bright to begin with, I didn''t crave attention or recognition. In an ironic twist, what death had stripped away, it had also brought back. Preferences were the lightest of the mind. Unlike the others, these could be changed or influenced to something completely different. Though some preferences tended to be stickier than others. These sticky preferences were often tied to one or more of the three other elements of the mind. Fortunately, the water I condensed around these four pillars and all the other entities of the mind was denser than anything else. As the water got tighter, so did my being. The ocean eventually became a dense lake, then a pond of unfathomable depths; when it was the size of a puddle, it had a strong gravitational pull. I worried my sanctuary was becoming too attractive. Yet, the water containing my being was no longer liquid and much denser than ice. It seemed denser than any metal I''d seen before. Threats wouldn''t easily pass through my shell; they''d have to fight to break through. My sanctuary was taking shape, and I was far from being done. I had yet to start on the defenses, then there would be test runs. For the remainder of the loop, I spent my time refining, condensing, and growing my orb of water. The second part came from adding extra layers of ocean and then condensing them. It was like I''d created a miniature world inside my mind. The water was so dense I wasn''t sure what to call it anymore. I reached my limits when I was four layers deep. That left the sanctuary roughly the same size as an ice dome I created for protection. The comparison led me down a new hole in defense structures. First, there was a building to store the ice dome in. The building had thick walls¡ªSelene''s pits. I was going about this all wrong. I spent the entirety of the next loop deconstructing and rebuilding my mind sanctuary, adding defensive structures to each layer of ocean. I didn''t even leave the grave grounds. My mind was a mess and frazzled at the end, but I felt confident that I had created formidable protection. While I constructed mind resistances, Beaks kept me safe from the wolfbears leaking out of the dungeon. The flayen''s falcon form was more than just a flying body. I''d modified his talons and wings to have extra deadly features. Beaks was more blade than bird at this point. To add to his blades was the only skill he could cast in his current state, mind flash. Mind flash was the most basic skill among flayens. Often, they used it as a way of communication. To the unprotected minds, a mind flash would stun them for a few seconds. The skill was dangerous in Alderi, where the knowledge of mind resistance was non-existent. For simple-minded beasts like wolfbears, it was deadly. The mental wave of energy stunned the beasts for a few seconds, allowing Beak''s smaller form to swoop in and cut them down. The skill''s area of effect only reached six beasts if they were packed somewhat close, and the stun lasted less than five seconds. The limitations didn''t make the mind flash any less fatal for the beasts. "Beaks." One benefit of our bond was that no matter where the flayen was, he was always in range of hearing me. "I''m ready." "I will lead the rest of the beasts back to you. After we wipe them out, we can test your defenses." 49. Mind Games The battle with the wolfbears didn''t last long. Not a single spirit beast took a step on the grave grounds. Beaks kited and stunned the wolfbears while I shot them with Snowpiercer. Any stray predators were killed by my water mana or sword. The sword kills I could count on one hand. "This is getting too easy," Beaks said after finishing off the last two wolfbears with a mind flash and talon strike, slicing through the heavy fur without resistance. It was a smooth, deadly motion. I nodded in agreement. The dungeon and the beasts within have lost any type of challenge they posed before. The only area of the dungeon we had left to explore was the vast darkness at the entrance. Even that was proving to add a little challenge. The lack of physical challenges, though, was made up for by the mental strain I''d been putting on myself. Condensing oceans and creating castles took a lot of work. "After I get some protection, I think I''ll be ready to leave the forest for a while." "Oh¡­" Beaks landed lightly on my shoulder. He shook out his body, did some feather maintenance, and then jumped off my shoulder, landing on a stack of wolfbears so that he almost stood at eye level. "Where are we going?" "What do you know about bloodsuckers?" I asked as I cut out a couple cores from the spirit beast from a different pile than where Beaks perched. "I hate them. The leeches can burn." Beaks'' body shook, causing him to extend a wing to maintain balance. "They''re actually quite resistant to flames." "You just need more wood. Which reminds me, what do you remember about Purity?" I stopped processing the cores for a moment to consider the word. My hands looked extra red. "It''s a flawed concept." For the third time, I scrubbed my hands in a floating orb of water and summoned a new orb to wash the five superior-ranked cores I had harvested with water razors. "Not the idea of purity¡ªPurity the person. She did a number on you during one of your recursions. Maybe she could be the new challenge. Fighting her would be much better than dealing with swamp suckers." Purity must''ve been one of the cultivators I saw fighting in the loop I''d forgotten. That whole loop remained hazy, and I''d been too busy to think much about it. "Do you know where she''s at?" I asked. "No, but she seems to be drawn by fire." "Hmm¡­ She seems pretentious but that''s no reason to fight her. Also, vamps avoid swamps at all costs. Why would they go to swamps? No one parties at swamps, and if no one is partying, vamps aren''t sticking around... I''m starting to think you don''t know the vamps as well as you think you do. "Why do you keep saying vamps? What the hell is a vamp?" "Vampires." "Oh¡­" Beaks paused from plucking his plumage and stared at me side-eyed. His exaggerated blinks were noted. "And what is a vampire?" "Bloody abyss. Did your world not have the bloodsuckers?" "We had our fair share of leeches, but they were never invited to parties." "Not leeches. Vampires are bloodsuckers." "So are leeches." "It''s different." "Sounds the same." "Vampires have a code." "And?" "That puts them miles ahead of leeches in the societal ladder¡­ and most people." "Why do you know so much about these vampires? Should I be worried? I did notice when I latched onto your face you got¡ª" Beaks paused dramatically, narrowing his birdy eyes "¡ªtoothy." It was my turn to blink slowly. Which I did. Three times. "You were molesting my face. Of course, I got toothy. That doesn''t make me a vampire. And don''t say that out loud. People might be listening. "Like who?" Beaks waved a wing, motioning to the mounds of wolfbears. "Everything is dead." The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "That Purity lady. Seems like burning me at a stake at a mere accusation is right up her alley." I pointed to my frozen corpse. "She wouldn''t need to travel far to find a stake¡­ or even have to stake me. She would just have to light a match and¡­" I''m cut off mid-sentence by images of a burning forest flashing through my mind. "Ao''s jewels. She''s a smoker." "You seem to know much about someone you claim to not know." "Aren''t you putting the images in my mind?" "You told me to stop messing with your mind. And I am standing in front of you. How could I be putting thoughts in your head if I am not in your head?" "We''re linked." "You know nothing." "Call it a hunch." "I can not." The bird eyed me with a burning intensity. It felt like Beaks wanted nothing more than to swoop out of the sky and mess up my ''ish. "It does not work like that. Even if I wanted to, you have your mind wrapped so tight that I would need more than just a connection. I would need to break you." Beaks launched from his mound with one powerful leap. His talons stretched out as he hit me with a flash. The mind blast hit me without the stunning effect. I swung an ice-enhanced fist at the bird, who barreled under my swing. I froze the air, stalling the flayen in the air. "Cheater." "You are in my domain. Don''t forget." I closed my hand, shattering the water falcon. Less than a breath later, Cal''s presence landed in my mind. My head rattled from the parasite, trying to break my mind. The nature of the fight was unexpected¡ªmore aggressive and possibly consequential... That was on me. I reinforced my dome, made sure my ice armor was in top shape, closed my eyes, and entered the battle of my mind. In my mindscape, I landed on the outer gate of my castle walls. A solid ocean surrounded the castle, creating my first barrier of defense. Sentinels of all shapes patrolled the walls and spaces between the dome and the castle. They gave me no impression of a threat inside the dome. A few minutes later, it became clear Squids was still on the outside. A leviathan with many tentacles descended from above. As the monster dived, its body grew in size. He was six times larger than my barrier. Bloody pits. The leviathan opened its massive toothy mouth and bit down on my shell. As my barrier cracked I sent the command and flames hot as the sun melted the predator''s mouth. Before Calypso could retreat, a legion of sentinels charged into the beast''s mouth. Each one started the size as me; as they entered the beast, they grew and morphed, becoming massive choking hazards. Half of the hazards exploded deep into the scaled shark''s mouth; the others have expanded in the throat, sinking their deep spikes into the fleshy tunnel, sowing significant discomfort. The other half swam deep into Cal''s belly, morphed one more time, and then caused more havoc. At the end of the day, sharks were more or less throats disguised as fish, and like all esophagi, it was best to plug and burn. While the octi-shark battled its insides, I made several clones of myself. I tried to hide my smile while doing so but failed miserably. Mind battles were so much fun! Rules, logic, and fairness didn''t belong here. All that mattered was who had the stronger will. That became clear as soon as I saw the massive shark grow. But this was too easy. If I had all the power, Calypso wouldn''t have attacked using an obvious method. As the shark burned and its body fell, the water outside my barrier turned violent. Mountain-sized funnels formed and spun violently. The shark was shredded in seconds; it remained tossed into my shell. The vortexes spun faster, moving closer to my shell. The collision rocked the entire ocean. My walls shook, and the barrier cracked. I raised my hand and stopped the raging ocean. The water stilled, and the tornadoes settled. Another wave of my hand sealed my barrier. One more wave added another coat of protection. An eerie presence alerted me to a danger at my back. My own sentinels were charging me with wicked blades in their hands. Giants, monsters, and warriors were dispelled without even a gesture. "I see you have grasped the basics of mind fortification," Calypso said, his voice booming from every direction. I didn''t bother to look for him. "I am impressed you gleaned this all from my opening attack. However, as you have deciphered, that was only a soft probe¡ªan appetizer. Now you will see what it is like to fight a god. You will see how far you pale in comparison. The ocean roared and shook anew. Lightning crashed, striking newly formed tornados and turning them into an electrical spinning disaster. My remaining sentinels shifted into twenty-foot-tall flayens, clad in heavy armor and holding exotic weapons. Leviathans bashed into my shell, causing broken chunks to rain. I raised my hand to calm my thoughts. Before I issued the command, a mighty presence arrived at my side. Cal''s power felt like the entire ocean had fallen on me, burying me in its depths. "You think you have power because we are in your mind," Cal said with a laugh. "Your mind is now mine. I will show you the power of¡ª" "A god?" I cut him off. Without raising my hand, the storm calmed, and the flayen giants collapsed. Calypso wore a regal golden robe, a pair of turquoise-shelled pauldrons, and a matching helm that glowed as he manifested before me. Large bird wings stretched from his back, and his tentacle beard looked to be braided. Lighting coursed around his body, and his fists were blazing flames. He looked godly. I stepped up to the god and started punching. First, a jab with my left, an ice hook with my right, and as the flayen reeled back, I crushed him with ice fists from my abyss. The flayen managed to stay on his feet a second longer than he should''ve. I made him pay for it by delivering a massive ice haymaker to the back of his head. The god landed face first at my feet, where I imprisoned him in a cell of water and ice. I couldn''t kill Calypso, and at this point, I didn''t want to, but I could keep him trapped in my prison. I used the same technique to create my sanctuary to seal the parasite. Basic trapping fundamentals. The more you made the trapper wait, the more their patience broke down. Any trapper could watch their bait get toyed with for a few minutes. Several months to years tested the best of trappers. My parasite was no trapper, and each nibble wore on his desire to spring his carefully laid plans. I was still unsure if he needed my mind to be reforged to take over or only defeat me in my mindscape. If that was the case, why didn''t he fight me before? I would have answers to my questions soon enough. As I waited for Cal to recover, I reflected on the fight. I felt safe for the first time since my encounter with the flayen. 50. Stepping Outside the box Time in my mindscape moved much slower than the outside world. I meditated for hours; I should''ve been dead by now. Cal slept soundly in his ice box. I thought of waking him a couple of times but decided against it. We''d been through a lot and could both use a break. I was a bit salty that he actually attacked me in my mind. Cal''s aggression and demeanor told me it was much more than a spar to him. It was one thing to expect an attack; it was another to face it. While I''d openly admit I had no idea what I was doing in my mindscape, I didn''t quite care. This was my realm, and I''d learn to master it. My confidence, with a dark shade of arrogance, somewhat surprised me. I was out of my league, and yet I had the confidence of a master¡­ more than a master. I felt like a god inside my head. It was dangerously intoxicating. I''d need to ask Cal when he woke up, but I guessed feeling a solid connection to one''s mind was natural. Mine was more than a connection. I felt connected to water. We had a tight bond that allowed us to influence each other. Water mana tempered my emotions, helping me find calm and balance. It enticed me with the urge to be free, to resist any type of confinement. It was adaptable and open to change; whatever water needed to be, it would become. Perhaps even some of my passive tendencies stemmed from our connection. I influenced water with direction and purpose, compelling it to be its best version in any situation. I gave the mana a foundation to become powerful, a chance to be free of all cages. The azure energy was a part of me¡ªalmost as integral as the pillars of my mind. However, my connection with water mana paled compared to my mind. Water energy wanted to be free. My mind was free. It could change and become anything it wanted to be, and within its realm, it had the power to do so. It wasn''t just a part of me; it was me. Not even my thoughts could adequately describe the connection between my mind and me. Of course, it was me, but it felt so much more than that. ¡­ if I had mind mana like Cal rather than water, my reality would be so different. I stopped dwelling on the fantasies and focused on the intricacies of my mindscape, taking the time to forge my realm and shape it into the kingdom it was meant to be. What started as a humble sanctuary of walls inside a dome became a castle. I trained sentinels how to defend my kingdom, forged tools of war, and equipped watch towers with weapons. Secret rooms were built inside the castle with trap doors, hidden rooms, and endless labyrinths. I buried the entire kingdom and built an improved empire on top. Wars were fought against my sentinels, which I ordered to find weaknesses and exploit them. They tore down my empire four times before I was able to repel them. In the seventh battle, they didn''t even get to my walls. When the wars became redundant, I created the perfect master suite. A room so perfect it encapsulated the essence of relaxation. The endless possibilities and refinement intoxicated me. My bed floated in the air, and the bath was an ocean of perfect temperature with endless waves. I had a sparring room where I fought myself several times, and attached to it was a game room where I played war games. I created food, feasted on delicacies, and drank from an endless cup. When I realized I could create my friends inside my realm, the temptation to talk to Lana once more nearly derailed my entire purpose. I retreated from the thought and built walls and resistances to keep it from returning. The implications of my success astounded me. I, indeed, was the master here. It was no wonder Cal considered himself a god. I studied my soul and practiced skills, refining my technique. The act of condensing water opened my mind to new possibilities, which I applied to my summons and armor. As my armor coated me, it was no longer white and blue. It had turned black, and even a thin layer provided five times more protection than my old armor. It wasn''t just assumptions, either. I tested the limits of both and compared the results. A sliver of black ice withstood hammer blows five times heavier than my original coating. My excitement could not be contained, nor did I want to. I had found a way to cheat the system. I continued to practice my techniques and refine my skills. I learned the art of domains and touched on the fundamentals. I still hadn''t achieved dominance over my mana, but I was getting closer. I sensed the end of my loop before it claimed me. Even here, where time didn''t seem to exist, death had a hold on me. I closed my eyes and prepared for the next life.
I stood alone in a forest of massive trees. Grass and shrubs covered my crouched body, and my hand rested on a tree. Wait! This was different¡ªa good different. There was no puddle. No Tenty¡­ No death. Massive trees crashed to the ground a few miles north of my position. They fell with heavy booms that cracked like thunder. Darkness and thick clouds covered the sky, and smoke filled the air. "Lana," I whispered. My heart boomed heavier. Without a thought for caution, I darted through the forest, whipping myself past trees at breakneck speeds. I pulled and pushed myself faster, knowing full well I was already late but wishing I still had time. I reached the clearing seconds later. I was too late by a long shot. My friends were already dead. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. I coated myself in black armor and took to the battle. I made it five steps before turning to ash. I stood alone in a forest of massive trees. Grass and shrubs covered my crouched body, and my hand rested on a tree. Massive trees crashed to the ground a few miles north of my position. They fell with heavy booms that cracked like thunder. Darkness and thick clouds covered the sky, and smoke filled the air. I made it eight steps¡­ I stood alone in a forest of massive trees. Grass and shrubs covered my crouched body, and my hand rested on a tree. Massive trees crashed to the ground a few miles north of my position. They fell with heavy booms that cracked like thunder. Darkness and thick clouds covered the sky, and smoke filled the air. Sixteen steps¡­ I stood alone in a forest of massive trees. Grass and shrubs covered my crouched body, and my hand rested on a tree. Massive trees crashed to the ground a few miles north of my position. They fell with heavy booms that cracked like thunder. Darkness and thick clouds covered the sky, and smoke filled the air. Head down, eyes strained, I pushed forward. With each step, a torrent of fire, death, and earth mana tore into my domain. My own mana wilted away under the heavy onslaught. I wasn''t even the focus of the mages fighting; I wasn''t a focus at all. I was on the outskirts of the battle and still struggled to stay alive. The pressure in the air was so thick I could barely breathe through gritted teeth. I stood alone in a forest of massive trees. Grass and shrubs covered my crouched body, and my hand rested on a tree. Massive trees crashed to the ground a few miles north of my position. They fell with heavy booms that cracked like thunder. Darkness and thick clouds covered the sky, and smoke filled the air. It became clear that my loop had changed starting points. Spending so much time in my mindscape must''ve sped up my soul transference¡ªthe process by which my soul left my primary body and transferred to the clone I now inhabited. The how and when this all happened remained a question, and Cal was currently doing time in the ice box. I could wait for answers a while longer. There was a clear path in front of me, and I would follow it. I didn''t run straight into death on this ninth attempt to get to my friends. Before leaving the cover of the forest, I entered my mindscape, said hello to my frozen parasite, and started working on my domain. I used the memories from the previous three deaths to create a template of the forces I faced. Against my template, I''d forge a shield to weather the mana storms of mages. It was a bit complicated. Fortunately, I had a wealth of time inside my mind. In my mindscape scenarios, I died several times, testing out different techniques. There were multiple problems: the mages battling had more commanding wills than mine, their connection to their mana was more potent, and the force they could apply their power was far greater than I could muster. I was a trickling stream compared to their waterfall of might. My only advantage was that I was still less than secondary to them. They weren''t trying to kill me; I was just a casualty. I still hated every one of the ten soldiers who walked out of the battle. I only knew the face of one, but I''d eventually know them all by name and hunt them down¡ªa devourer of stars. Before that could happen, I needed to go further than sixteen steps. Another part of the problem centered on willpower was my need for more heart. I knew I wasn''t ready for this fight. My squad made it into the center of conflict in the first place because the mages hadn''t unveiled their full power yet. Then once inside the storm, the opposing energies softened the killing intent of mana. At least, that was my theory. By all accounts, I should''ve died on the stake¡­ No, I knew I wasn''t ready to face mages or step on the same field as them, but that wouldn''t stop me from trying. I would leverage all the experience I could gain. After running through several iterations of my domain, it was time to put the skill into practice. I exited my mindscape and ran towards the battle. Once there, I summoned my armor, created my domain, and stepped out of the clearing. I made it ten steps before I felt the violent energies crash into my domain. I commanded my water to resist. The droplets of water around my area of influence heard my command and connected to my will. Within a twenty-foot radius, I had authority over the water. It was almost like being in my mindscape but not nearly as potent, and there were many more restrictions. I still had to act within the laws of the element. My extended energy absorbed the onslaught of domains and didn''t shatter, though the force pushed me back to eight steps. I pushed more intent into my energy, allowing it to adapt to the powers at bay. I could create a shell and use that as a barrier. Previous attempts and tests within my mind proved that no matter how hard I made my protection, a hardened domain couldn''t withstand the pressure. I needed the water to absorb and adapt to the volatile energy and, where it could, strip the various manas of their root elements. It was a difficult battle. The fact that talented templars and higher-ranked cultivators could maintain a domain passively was leagues beyond my skill. I had to actively keep my influence to have any effect. I took two steps forward, returning to my spot, and directed my mana to change and adapt to the volatile energies. The pressure lessened, allowing me to take another step and then another. I stayed at sixteen steps, the furthest I''d made it into the battlefield, and adapted the water around me. It felt like I battled several castors at once. Droplets of water intercepted fire, dowsing the flames before they could touch me. Ice blocked harsh winds. Earth was eroded by water and ice before getting washed away. Death was absorbed, and the toxic mana was purified and sent out to intercept more domains. I took a step forward, and then another, and another. At twenty steps, I was crawling. After moving five steps further, I settled in my spot. Against the grindstone of mages, I sharpened my domain. 51. Sharpening Domains While I only spent a dozen loops fighting against domains, I spent months inside my mindscape refining my skill. My domain started with creating an anchor in my core that connected to all the mana around me. The process involved exerting my soul outward. It was an odd concept and almost the exact opposite of creating armor. After I pushed out with my soul, it was a matter of claiming what resided within my reach. The further I pushed my soul, the less command I held. Will played the third part of the process. I needed the utmost confidence that my soul had the right to command the ambient water mana. Trial and error built my confidence on a solid foundation. Although my domain was quite different than I expected, all the practice I did with my water razor technique still applied. I just had a lot more ropes, and it took less focus to command the energy. I could create hundreds of razors at a time, freeze an entire space, or flood it with water waves. Finally, I could hold blocks of ice in the air that were stable enough to support my body weight. An entire month was lost practicing what I called frost stepping. I couldn''t fly, but I could take several steps in the air. The testing periods were always the most challenging part of training. I''d wade back into the battling mages and see how far and long I could make it. The closest I could get was a hundred yards in without being noticed. One step further, and it was no longer a battle against my domain. I became an intruder and was dealt with immediately by both sides. I was content to sit on the edge and watch the battle. From my viewpoint, I figured there were four different parties. There were the ten Alderi mages¡ªincluding the Emperor¡ªtwenty soldiers of the unknown mercenary band, twelve flayens, and five adventurers. My squad, the five adventurers, was already dead before I got through the forest. Watching the battle in person and through my mind several times helped me piece together parts of the fight I''d forgotten. It started early in the morning; I''d just served breakfast to the squad and was beginning on clean-up. My clone had just returned and reported a significant mana disturbance to the north of us. Our mission was to find a den of confrontational spirit beasts, so we headed north to inspect. As we got closer, it became evident that the mana was not from beasts but cultivators; it was too fine and controlled. Sasha prodded us to inspect. We trusted her instincts and continued forward. I took up the role of scout and marched ahead. Memories returned like vivid paintings depicting a scene¡­ I left my clone with the squad and silently walked through the trees. As I read the signs left behind, I clutched Snowpiecer. A large squad recently walked through the path; at least twenty of them. Their steps were spread out and destructive. They were traveling with a purpose¡ªa fast purpose. I followed their path, sending reports to my clone and telling my friends to wait. As I got closer I discovered the party of twenty were not alone. They were meeting with the flayens¡­ it was a peaceful negotiation and couldn''t sense any ill will between them. Just as Cal had said, he stood behind the flayen leader, Balthazar, who wore an exquisite wooden crown helm. Balt, the flayen leader, held his arms behind his hands tucked into his loose sleeves. The flayens looked out of place, not just because they were foreign but also because they stood anxiously, sharing glances. Cal seemed extremely nervous as he slowly shuffled closer to his leader. The memory felt so real. I remember bracing the tree I stood behind as I watched the two parties negotiate. The rising fear built in my stomach as the ground trembled. I thought I''d been discovered. Then, as if descending from the heavens, the Alderi Emperor and his guards landed in the middle of the group. It became clear upon their arrival the Alderians were not invited. I turned to lead my squad away. Out of nowhere, Sasha sprinted toward the conspiring group. I reached to grab her but missed. She was too fast. I chased after, foolishly hoping to catch her. She was already screaming obscenities at the Emperor, calling him a murderer. I couldn''t retreat¡­ I''d already been spotted, and I couldn''t stop Sasha. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. I blocked the first spear aimed at Sasha with a block of ice. The explosion of ice, however, knocked my squadmate to the ground. I covered her with a quick barrier and pushed forward, knowing full well I was walking toward my grave. I''d hoped I could create a distraction for her to flee. The group had already turned violent; the mercs had assaulted the Alderians, and the flayens sided with the mercs. The ten should have gone down quickly. However, a dark mage casted a silencing spell. The mercs tried to counter. Fire was unleashed as the two sides fought. The Emperor gripped the surrounding trees with his aura and ripped them apart... I needed to escape these monsters, but the ground had gripped my feet. "Run." I sent the message through my clone seconds before a tree shard impaled me, skewering me to the ground just as my feet were released from the entangling root. Another shard shattered my shell around Sasha. She was impaled next. My hand hovered over my chest where I''d been stabbed. The pain was embedded deeply into my mind. I was in a miserable state and passed out immediately. When I woke up, I was still on the spike. The battle was over. I breathed two terrible breaths and died. To my horror, I woke up on the same pike, in the same place, and died after another short couple of breaths. I was so confused. Was I dying or just passing out. The answer was more confusing as I repeated the process several times, each time waking up a little earlier and breathing longer. After three dozen iterations of this life, I no longer passed once the pike had skewered me. In fact, the loop started seconds after Sasha was killed. I would die and wake up to witness the battle anew. I watched the battle play out from my spike several times, getting a larger picture of the fight each time. Balthazar was struck shortly after I was; as a death mage absorbed the body, Cal scrambled to run away. He died around the same time as Sasha. A boulder cracked his back. The peculiar part was that he initially fell further away from my body. With each loop, he crawled closer to me. The worst part was watching Lana, Rocky, and Flint try to intervene. They looked just like I did when I entered the domains, though they somehow managed to get to the center of the battle before getting slaughtered by the warring powers. Lana looked upon me in sadness as she burned. She didn''t scream, yet I could see the hurt she felt through her eyes. The same doe eyes that looked into mine so intensely the night before locked onto me as Lana died. She muttered some words, a detail I didn''t recall before, and her finger pointed toward me. In her last moments of life, she was still trying to save me. The battle surged into a chaotic disaster after my squad was killed. The flayens had been killed, and all that remained were the Alderi and the mercs. The mercs finally broke free of the silencing spell and fought back with their own powers. As desperate as the mercs fought, the ten Alderians were too powerful and countered every attack with their own. One by one, the mercs were picked off until none were left. The Alderians didn''t even bother to check the dead after the battle. They turned their backs on the destroyed forest and walked away. Had they cared, they would''ve noticed two beings still breathing. I''d seen this play out more than a hundred times. The memory was never as vivid as it was now. I worked through the memories forward and backward several times more, looking for any information I missed. Although I didn''t gain new insight, my timeframe of events became clear. My spiking happened at the very beginning of the battle. I was the first casualty of the opening volley. Balthazar died next, followed by Calypso, who was crushed seconds later just as Sasha died. This was when the loop for me started, and if I had to guess, this was when Cal activated the Monarch Stone. Four minutes later, the rest of my squad showed up, only to die shortly after. The battle lasted for twelve more minutes after that. I wouldn''t be able to save my squad during the battle, not for a long time, but if I could soul transfer to my clone quick enough, I could stop them from ever entering Sogg''s forsaken abyss. Hope burned brighter. I was getting closer. I was going to save them¡ªmaybe not now. It might take several more years before I could soul-transfer fast enough, but I now knew I had a chance, and it wasn''t just hope. Live for them¡­ I would do more than that. Much more. 52. Mind Palace I sharpened my domain until I could walk a hundred yards further into the battlefield. It took thirteen more loops and possibly years within my mindscape. My domain grew in size and doubled in power. My control inside my aura was near absolute. There was no trick to make my control more powerful; it came down to practice and experience. Fortunately, I probably had the best teachers¡ªthough arguably, they were a bit zealous, doling out punishment when I couldn''t reach their standards¡ªand the best environment to train in. However, I reached a plateau. No matter how much I practiced and tested my domain, I could only step out two hundred yards. I was halfway from the center of the battlefield, but it felt like I had much further to go. That simply meant I needed to change things up. I''d kept Calypso locked up the entire time; a part of me felt bad, and I knew I was squandering an advantage. I was taking a gamble that his confinement would pay off. My parasite needed to know I was the host. I dove into the sanctuary of my mind, returning to the empire I''d established. The walls around my fortress were pure white, made from the finest materials I could imagine. Sentinels patrolled outside my walls as well as inside and on. I started naming them seven loops ago and created a command structure similar to Alderi''s five loops ago. Competition to rise in ranks had started with my guards. The standouts are showered with praise and made-up prizes. They were pretty awesome prizes, too, if I do say so. One sentinal even got a dragon. Mindscapes were wild. I truly loved it. John the Giant greeted me at the gate with a nod. I tried not to talk to my specters outside of simple gestures. It was bad enough that I''d named and promoted them. If I started talking to them, that could be a new world of problems. I nodded back to the giant and walked through the massive gates after they raised high enough. Ignoring the whispers of the guards on standby, I walked down the murder hall toward the courtyard. The murder hall was much like the killer esophagus in the jungle, Gulley. The one difference was the open slits for my specters to fire their weapons on intruders. Although I could skip to where I wanted to be, I walked the entire mile down the throaty hall. Not only was it good for troop morale, it was nice to inspect my creations once in a while. The hall was every bit as terrifying as Gulley was. When the slits were closed, it was dark and creaked. There was no end to the tunnel, and at any moment, it could collapse. It was an absolute beast. I also fashioned the courtyard after the jungle, without the snakes. The trees were all sentient and fought like Vines. Panthers, hogs, and scepters hid in the tree-covered court. I also had wild vines that appeared tamed and a life-scale replica of the Rat King in all of his glory. I might''ve added a few pounds to the bastard and given him a dragon. Still, he was nearly identical to the corpse-reanimating rat back in the jungle¡­ maybe a little less toothy and with much better hygiene. Other than that, he was the same. Oh, and he could breathe fire, and his corpses could explode. He was the same... just a little different. Rats would be proud to meet himself. I was sure of it. Lipper and her hounds did not get a place in my court or anywhere in my mindscape. There was too much bad blood between us, and I wasn''t impressed with their skill sets. The hounds had numbers, sure¡­ Rats could triple their numbers, explode them all, and then create a monster from the refuge. He couldn''t die either because I didn''t give Rats a body; he was a floating concept, an illusion of a Rat King, not really there but present enough to mess things up. What Rats lacked in strength, his dragon more than made up for it. Drago beats Lips in a fight ten times out of ten. A shorter murder hall connected the courtyard to the barracks, a building that created and trained scepters. The study room came next. That room was still a work in progress, but it was a great place to meditate. After the study was an endless maze, which I skipped, and then the palace room with stairs leading down to the cellar. I walked down the steps into the cellar. The only thing keeping the place less empty than the study was the block of ice trapping Calypso. "You son of a¡ª" "Good to see you too." "Do you have any idea how long you kept me locked here?" Calypso kept his eyes locked on me as I circled his ice box, my hand running over the smooth exterior. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "I''ve got an idea¡­" I smiled as I turned to meet his gaze. "And what was I supposed to do?" I tapped the ice cage, testing for sturdiness, and then stretched out my hands to estimate its dimensions. It wasn''t a big box. My head tilted as I considered the question. "Dream about flying?" "I hate you." Cal pounded his fist against the ice. It wouldn''t break. I had just tested its durability. My cage was the definition of solid. No, it was indestructible. "Awe, that''s what I wanted to hear. We''ve reached the truth." I put my hand down and took a few steps back into the otherwise empty room. "I would have answered your questions before." "How could I trust you?" "Do you trust me now?" "No. But I''m speaking to you from a place of power?" "Power?" Calypso shifted into a tentacle beast of horror. The solid, indestructible prison melted in a flash of light. Cal''s entire body radiated enmity. Our enclosed room, miles below ground, trembled with thunder as it sparked and shook. I cracked my knuckles, preparing for another fight, and then froze the nightmare incarnate. Dense black ice encased my parasite. I closed my fist for show, and the prison compacted. Cal had to shift forms until he ended up as small as a bird. With another motion, I dismissed the shell. Cal took off immediately. Three wing beats later, I stopped him, this time with a water lasso. "Yes. My power." Cal shifted back to his flayen form, his eyes sullen and his ego bruised. He looked up as if he wanted to say something, then quickly turned his head down and proceeded to braid his beard of tentacles. His attire shifted from bland covers to his robe and shelled pauldrons, which he wore the day this all started. Cal finally looked up after a fit of incoherent mumbling. "How?" "I don''t really know. Intuition?" "Ash, have mercy. Maybe you stole some knowledge from me¡­ but I would have noticed, right?" He wasn''t really asking me, and as he mumbled some more words, he began pacing. "Did you have previous training?" "Besides what you taught me?" "I taught you nothing¡­ I showed you your mindscape, but that was all. You refused all of my training." "Then no." I took a seat, figuring this would take a while. The act wasn''t necessary; my body didn''t get tired in my mindscape, but old habits die hard. "Think of where you could be by now if you let me." Probably trapped in a box while Cal controlled my body. "I think I''m alright." I made a show of adjusting my seat to get comfortable. Cal watched me, considered sitting, and chose to stand, refusing the chair I summoned for him. It was a nice chair, too¡ªmade of clouds, reclined, and had a footrest. "Because you can beat me? I am nobody. Balthazar would crush your castle and wipe your face in the rubble. His soldiers would take one look at your walls and laugh." "And where did their arrogance get them?" "That¡ªit¡­" Cal dropped his head and plopped onto his chair. Good. We''ve moved past denial. I snapped my finger, creating a crisp pop in the empty room. Before the sounds reverberated, we were seated in a new room. Technically, it was the same room but much smaller, with a table between us and a spread of food. I imagined it was risky to create food in the mindscape. The more I did in my realm, the more I became attached to it, and the harder it became to leave. I resisted the urge to create food here for a time, but the mental practices it provided seemed like a worthwhile risk. On top of that, food made interrogations less tortuous. Cal looked a bit weary, sitting across from me. His eyes danced between me, the food, the room, and the overall situation. I sat back, relaxed, and grabbed an apple. I didn''t like apples. Their flavors were below average, and they always found a way to get their skin stuck between my teeth. The only thing apples had going for them was that they had the potential to be crispy. I just so happened to make the crispiest apples and could enhance their flavors. "You have a story to tell." I kicked my legs up on the table, perfecting my posture, and took a meaty bite from my crispy red apple. "Then, you''re gonna answer all of my questions." I glared into Cal''s eyes, measuring his soul. "Understood?" Calypso sunk further into his chair and lowered his gaze once more. He waited a second before nodding his consent. "I liked you more when you feared me." I laughed at the thought, grabbed another apple, and threw it to Cal. He barely caught it and looked at it like a great mystery. He was right. My apples were unnaturally crispy¡­ but even in my mind, the devils still found a way to get stuck in my teeth. He thought the mysterious apple was an offering of peace. Cal took a bite and cursed. I smiled. Interrogations were going well. 53. Another World "I come from a world of conquerors," Calypso said, chucking the apple I''d given him earlier. He scoured the table for more food and settled on a turkey leg. "We would find new worlds, wipe out the population, and steal their treasures. Sometimes, we would inhabit the worlds we conquered. Other times, we''d leave them desolate. Most of the time, we harvested the treasures and then burned the worlds. "We had a perfect system; we implant our people in other worlds, and they then learn the ways and customs of the new world and report what they learned. Our agents would help us devise plans for conquest. On softer worlds, with low-level cultivation, we simply overpowered the residents. Stronger worlds required extra resources. Using the cores of worlds and the techniques known only to the eldest mages among our people, we created the Monarch Stone. It was a powerful device for creating a mindscape that allowed the user to shape reality." "The loops are all just a mindscape?" I asked. "It is much more than that, but broken down to its essence, the loop a mindscape." "Wait, does that mean we are in your mind?" I no longer leaned back on my chair and placed my feet back on the ground. "You are an anomaly,¡± the flayen said. ¡°I hoped you knew why you got pulled into the loops with me." "Why would I know that?" "You seem to know a lot about the mind, and it has only been a few months since you started practicing the mindscape." "That''s a stretch." Cal clicked his tongue and nodded his head. He sized up his turkey leg as if looking for impurities, smelled it, and tossed it over his shoulder. A new leg was in his hand before the discarded meat hit the ground. He inspected the leg once more and took a bite. I took a few sips of ale while I waited. "Something must have tripped the loop to pull you into awareness; perhaps it was all the wild mana that was unleashed. One way or the other, you got caught in the loop¡ªinside my mind but aware. I was the host up until I bonded with you. I still hold the key to the Monarch Stone, but you have all the influence." "Did you know I was aware of the loop?" I asked. "Not at the start. Like I said, you died pretty fast at the beginning." "But you became aware eventually? Why don''t I remember any interaction with you?" "Because I did nothing. I activated the Stone too late. I wasn''t even supposed to be the one to activate the Stone. Balthazar was our champion. However, he was taken out too soon, and our guards were tied up in battle. It came down to me, an attendant, to use the Stone. At that point, preservation of our secrets was my only concern. I devoured the Stone and entered my mindscape, but¡­" The flayen trailed off. "Your back was broken." The image of a boulder crushing Cal''s back came to my mind. The memory was so vivid it caused me to wince. "You said you lived two hundred years?" "I did. Two hundred years in agony, some of the time I spent crawling towards you. The rest, I hunkered down in my mind and tried to work out a solution. It was two hundred real years. In my mindscape, I lived dozens of centuries." Cal finished a cup of ale and started on the next choice of meat, grabbing the bone handle steak and taking a hearty bite. It looked good, so I grabbed a steak and ate with him. "This is delicious¡­" "I know. It took me a while to get the taste to match that of wolfbears, but I think I''ve created an accurate representation." "You really should not mess around in your mind like that." "A little too late for that." "And you have never had any training or knowledge about mindscapes?" "Does the blank cell in the mind you locked me in count?" "The holding grounds?¡± It wasn¡¯t a question, and Cal spoke too fast even if I wanted to answer. ¡°That was only meant as a preparation stage. A place to get your mind accustomed to the recursion." This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. "I spent a long time there." "I might have locked you in that state." "I knew it," I said. Cal scoffed, waving his food at me in a taunting gesture. "You had no idea." "A bit of a hunch." "Never crossed your mind. I was reading it and watching it the whole time." "You know that schtick about being a memory fragment¡­" "I know." Cal clicked his tongue. "I was trying to minimize my threat level. If you were open to me, I could have taken over as soon as your soul transferred." "So you locked me in the preparation stage while you did what¡ªrummage around in my memories?" "Essentially. I had already talked to you in my mindscape on several occasions. You were much more amicable there. So when I actually entered your mind, I needed to get acquainted. I did more than that, though. While your mind was adjusting, I managed to freeze your body with mana to preserve it from death. Before that, I created the holding block you rested in¡­ you called it a blank space." I took another bite of steak and chewed on it for a while. Squids were more gross than I gave them credit for. Sometimes the flayen would use his hands, other times he fed himself using his tentacles. That was a particularly unpleasant image. The problem was that the steak was too good to put down. So, the two of us ate more steak, and I helped myself to some sides. I wasn''t just eating. A lot was running through my head. The fact that I was almost possessed sooner was chilling. I kicked my legs up and took a drink of ale. Cal was searching for his next snack. "You got out of the holding box sooner than I had planned," Cal said, noticing I was looking at him. "How did you do that?" "I really don''t know. I dove into my mind and crawled around in darkness until I found myself on the outside of the box looking in. At that point, I could feel tethers pulling my being to another source. I accepted the pull and ended up in the clone. I don''t know how the clone got to my body, though." "Remarkable. It is a shame you do not have ties to mind mana. With your natural skills, you would be a savant. With the smallest training from me, you would blow past the realm of mages." Cal shook his head, clicking his tongue twice¡ªalmost sounding like a ''tsk-tsk.'' I shared his disappointment. If mind mana let me do a fraction of what I could in my mindscape on the outside, I''d be a powerful cultivator. "Your clone walked to your body on its own,¡± Cal said. ¡°It was how I became aware of you in the first place. You would pass out, and then a few minutes later, your clone would arrive. It would stand by your side; when you died, it collapsed as well. It took me over a hundred iterations to get the transfer to your clone right. Once I locked it down in my mind, I began taking action. And before you ask, I needed an actual mind to attach to. I didn''t have the power to control an empty vessel." "So you and a party of flayens come to Helm to conquer us, but it goes wrong. Did your agents undersell our power level? You brought the Monarch Stone, so you considered us strong." There was still so much I needed to ask, but before that, I wanted to figure out what was going on with the invasion first. "We did not use our agents before coming to this world. We didn''t have the time to thoroughly plan out the invasion. Our worlds were under attack, and we were losing the fight. We were down from hundreds of worlds to two. Both of which were showing signs of a scourge infestation. The same infestation that wiped out our worlds before. "We came to Helm looking for a chance to escape ruin. We were conquerors; now, we were being conquered. Upon arrival, we established contact with one of our agents. We discussed our plans with our agent in this secluded forest when everything went wrong. Your world''s hero killed my world''s hero, and the rest of us ended up dead." "Your people are still planning on coming here," I asked. "Yes." "To a conquered world." "To a world of enslaved soldiers." "And they are bringing with them the scourge?" "Inevitably. We can not escape them. We can not defeat them. This was our last resort." "Seven years?" "Yes, but your world will be destroyed much sooner than that. In five years the Shadow Plague will wipe out existence. What''s left is a shade of life." "You created this in your mindscape; how accurate do you think that is?" "I used my mindscape to survive in my broken state. I didn''t create the Shadow Plague. I experienced it. When I recreated it in my mindscape, it took me several attempts to figure out how to survive. The solution was always to hide. Except those wolf bastards had a keen sense of smell, which made my task all the more difficult. "The wolfbears?" "Much worse and more human." "Bloody abyss." Cal nodded and took another drink of ale. Saving my friends wasn''t going to be enough. What good would it be to save them if the world ended shortly after? I needed to start thinking larger. Making bigger plans. I needed longer loops. Ao''s bloody abyss, indeed. 54. Setting Plans The allure of our mental feast had lost its luster, so I changed our setting to one more comfortable for a post-feast. We sat in padded chairs across a fire pit under a starry sky. The idea of a hot spring crossed my mind. I cut the thought before it had a place to grow. The setting just didn''t sit right. Maybe it was too much exposure, or it could be that I didn''t like the thought of us being in my mind bathing together. Calypso and I weren''t that chummy to begin with, and it felt invasive. I added crickets and a stream to the campfire setting for the ambiance and then added smoke to the crackling fire. Between the drifting smoke, glowing embers, and occasional pop sending tiny sparks in the air, there was plenty of entertainment. The fire allowed for deep and casual conversation while maintaining the perfect blend of relaxation and excitement. To increase the draw of the fire even more, I decreased the temperature in my realm. If I had this kind of power as a tour guide, I would have become a phenomenon not just in Alderi but on the entire continent of Agoria. The conversation with Calypso was still going. I had questions I wanted answered, but we had reached a natural lull. I was deep in thought about my goals, and Cal was inspecting the new room we were in¡ªquestioning all of his senses. I think I nailed it, from the lighting to the sounds, smells, and taste. It took some work to get a blank palate taste, especially with all the tinkering I''d been doing in my mindscape. In the realm of minds, just about everything had a flavor¡ªpine trees, smoke, dirt, cloud chairs, and bodies. While creating these environments, the flavor was often off¡­ in the sense that it was present. Usually, unless in potent spaces, flavors weren''t noticeable. So, in my realm, it became a trick of adding all the elements I wanted and diluting their flavor properties. All my effort paid off when Cal lapped his tongue to the top of his mouth, testing for taste, and then nodded his head in approval with a questioning look on his face. I''d like to think I just blew his mind a little. Besides claiming a small victory, most of my thoughts were on the looming threats. I needed to save my friends, fight the shadow plague, solve the flayen invasion, defend against the scourge, and live long enough to accomplish all this. Fortunately, the solution to all of the problems was whittled down to one thing: power. In that regard, nothing had changed. I still needed much more power to accomplish my first goal of saving my friends. Once I did that, I could worry about the other problems. If I had to worry about them at all. Before I even attempted the hero scenarios, I would try every strategy in the Coward''s Guide to Survival. "Does the Alderi Empire really fall in five years?" I asked Cal. It was hard to imagine any threat capable of toppling the Empire. Maybe if multiple powers across Helm united in a combined invasion. Even then, the entire Empire? "It was a rough estimate, but yes, around that time," Calypso said, his gaze locked on the flickering flames. "The shadow starts in the southeast and spreads west, wiping out the Empire''s crops in a week. Without food and under constant attack, Alderi crumbled. The rest of Helm falls apart shortly after. "And the Emperor?." The Deliverer seemed so omnipotent. Of course, it was nice to know he could be brought down. It makes my side quest for revenge a little more obtainable, and at the same time, if I didn''t have to do the avenging, that would be better. "A wrathful spirit led an army of unkillable wolf wraiths cloaked in shadow. Your Emperor puts up a good fight, but by the time he intervenes, the Shadow Plague is too strong. I spent two hundred years and countless lifetimes looping through my mindscape. The times I survived, I witnessed my people''s ships arrive in a world of ruin." "Ships?" "Like yours, but they fly," Cal said, with no hint of saying more. I was fascinated by the concept and it took some restraint to push the topic to a later time. "And the scourge?" "When we faced your Emperor, we thought the scourge was already here. They are empty vessels, full of power. Quick, aggressive, and they spread like a disease." "How do they spread?" "They don''t kill their victims. They infect them with their mana, which turns the victim into one of them. A lifeless husk. In time, the corrupted mana tears away the husks, and wings sprout." "And you bastards are bringing them here. Bloody pits." Stolen story; please report. Cal gave an empty nod. "So your people arrive in my damaged world in seven years; what happens next?" "They die. Against the Shadow Plague, they stood a chance. When the scourge arrived, they were wiped out." We fell into another lull as the flames danced to their crackling beat. Shadow wolves from the east, flayens flying from other worlds, and an army of death¡­ Was there a place far enough to run for safety? It didn''t feel like it. I mulled over the information before putting it in a container to be dealt with later. "Cal." I focused my eyes on the flayen sitting across from me. I could feel an unease building within. Even in my mindscape, my hands felt clammy. I forced a swallow and asked the question I''d dreaded: "What were you doing in my mind?" I dreaded asking the question. "What do you mean?" He knew what I meant. The flayen was trying to disengage. My fire burned brighter as the sky turned black, and the ambient noise was silenced. Not even the stream made a noise. Trees crept closer, making our open space feel like a closed box. For a moment, it was just Cal and me in a tight space with frozen fire between us¡ªa fire that burned hotter by the second. "I am sorry, Kip." The flayen took a deep breath. I couldn''t tell whether the disappointment in Calypso''s eyes was feigned. He fidgeted his hands with his ''beard'' and then clicked his tongue. "You have to understand I am fighting for my people." Cal tried lifting his head to show some resolve. All I saw was a withered flayen barely able to sit upright." "I understand that." I pushed past the dread settling in my stomach. I might not want to hear the answer, but I needed to know. "What did you do inside my head? You were in there for a long time, and don''t think I believe you were just idle. I need to know." "It will not do us any good." "Calypso," I said his name in a shaken tone, my voice no longer steady. The fire and trees inched closer to the flayen as our surroundings darkened. I didn''t want to turn violent, but I was willing to do so if needed. Cal took another deep breath and paused. I accentuated the beating of his heart, creating a light thud in our confined space. I could collapse the organ if I wanted, and a small part of me was tempted. "I¡­ Your¡ªI was removing memories," Cal didn''t dare look up, and he kept his tone as passive as possible. The tremor that touched my voice entered my entire being. I felt. I knew he was doing something, but it hurt to hear it confirmed. As the impact of Cal''s actions settled, frustration started building within me. In short order, I was seething. Our chairs were no longer soft, and the fire was at a dangerous heat level. Drops of sweat beaded at Cal''s brow, bringing another layer of realism to my realm. "I needed your character to be weakened to take over. If I could change your character enough, I could turn you against yourself. You would become your own enemy, and I would be a guiding light once you discovered you lost your way. Only I would lead you deeper into my snare. I would take over once you were completely trapped in your mind." "Please restore my memories." The words did not reflect my state of mind. It took all my control to stop the fire before us from burning the entire space and Cal to the ground. "I truly cannot¡­ For what it is worth, I am sorry." It wasn''t just the sadness behind Calypso''s face that told me he was telling the truth. I could sense the validity in his words; they had a warm, heavy feeling, almost like they had substance to them. The more he spoke, the more I could feel the weight crushing my soul. "I watched you cry as you cut down trees and knew there was a weakness I could exploit. Not your softness but your lack of confidence in your decision to value life. When you nearly killed me with your potion of poison, I retreated into your mind and removed the memories that I could. "I tried numbing your feelings and was successful in a sense." "No more," I said, barely louder than a whisper. These were my memories the flayen had stolen from me. My treasures¡ªthe good and the bad¡­ I cherished them all. I earned them through suffering and triumph. Beyond that, they were a collection of everyone''s sacrifice that had gotten me to this point. My family, friends, and Lana. Every day I pushed further, I carried them with me. As long as I held on to them, as long as I had my memories, death had no claim on them. "Kip." I almost didn''t recognize my name. I knew Cal was tampering with my mind, and I knew it wouldn''t be good. Cutting memories was even a possibility I thought I was ready to face. "Kai¡ª" "No." I locked Cal back in a box and retreated from my mind. I needed some space. Maybe just a day or two. A part of my memories had been erased and forever lost. The worst part was I didn''t know what I had forgotten. I could still see my parents, sister, old and new friends. I could recall most of the events I cherished¡­ At least, I thought I could. What was I missing? There were gaps in my mind. Memories had faded without me noticing. Events weren''t detailed stories, and I couldn''t recall the accompanying memories. Instead of being bolstered by surrounding experiences, details, and events, my core memories were becoming isolated. Some might have already been lost. The thought terrified me. I had to ensure their security. I couldn''t afford to lose any more memories¡­ to lose myself or my friends. I took a few deep breaths, calming my nerves, and returned to Cal''s cell. 55. New Paths I was only gone for a few minutes, but it looked like Calypso had endured years of torment. I didn''t bother setting Cal free. For now, the flayen could rot in his prison. "What did you remove?" It was a hopeless question. I had to ask. "I do not know. The smallest memories were the easiest to remove without detection. Then, the oldest. I didn''t see into the blocks I removed; I just knew you had a strong attachment to them." I rested my hand on Cal''s cell as I struggled to find the strength to ask more questions. "How do I protect myself from more loss?" "I am not removing any more of your memories." The words were cold and weightless. Calypso''s lie hurt almost as much as the truth. "Why?" Cal looked down at his hands, opened his mouth as if to speak, closed it, and shook his head. Incoherent mumbling followed. "Why?" I pounded the cell causing Cal to jump at the sudden impact. "I would''ve helped you. We could''ve been friends." I wouldn''t call it betrayal, but it still stung. "No, you would not." The flayen kept his head down. "We were enemies from the start. In all of my recursions with you, we never worked together." "Did you ever question your mindscape''s projected reality? It''s a projection based on likeness. Even I know that. Ao''s pits. You were in a projection within a projection¡­ So what now? I carry you around while you continue to cut my memories, and I can''t remove you until I save my friends." "I am not cutting your memories, but I left a tracer behind that will slowly degrade them. You will slowly lose details until time fades the memories into a blur." "I would''ve helped you." "That is clear for me to see now." Cal paused, raising his head. His puffed eyes met mine. "I am sorry it took me too long to figure that out. I vow to do everything in my power to restrict the tracer. Your mind is already heavily fortified, so the effects of the tool will be diminished. With my help, your loss will be minuscule." I could feel the same truth in these words as I did before. It was a distinct difference from the cold lie he tried to pass. "Just remove it¡­ Please." "I can not," Cal said. The words were warm and heavy and carried the stinging bite of truth. "I hate you." I couldn''t look at the flayen anymore. "I know." I stepped away from Squid''s cell, feeling broken and defeated. I no longer had the luxury of time I thought I had. Ao''s breath. I didn''t even know what rate I''d lose memories, what plane of time they functioned in, or how they triggered in each loop. I needed to ask the flayen again, but I wasn''t in the right state of mind, and I couldn''t get myself to return a third time so soon. Instead, I retreated into the innermost sanctuary of my mind. It was a room made entirely of ice and water suspended over an empty abyss. There was no way into the room. All one could do was stand at the bottom of the vast white space and stare at the floating room. I was the only one allowed in the sanctuary. I studied the four pillars of my being: memories, beliefs, personality, and preferences. They were still intact, and there were still so many core memories. I sat in my sanctuary and recorded my memories on a tablet. A vault was created for the memory tablets, which I hid and buried. Hours faded as I made multiple copies and hid them away. When I finished with my memories, I moved to the rest of my pillars and did the same. New sanctuaries were built only to be hidden away. I returned to my original sanctuary, created four more vaults, and stored the pillars of my being in them. Cal would help me fight the tracer. I could sense that his vow held him to his words. His help wasn''t enough. I needed to do everything in my own power to protect myself. I didn''t know how the tracer worked. Still, I hoped to delay the degradation of memories or perhaps preserve my memories entirely. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.Besides, I had the sinking feeling that when the time was right, Calypso would strike again. It might be hundreds of years from now with the flayen acting against his plan. As my mind slowly faded away, he acted friendly, doing everything he could to help. That would make it all the easier to sink in the dagger when I was in a weakened state. It was a clever plan. It was something I would do. Damn. I was starting to like Cal, too. I''d still use him. As a companion, he would be a valuable asset. I''d just watch him close without allowing him to get close. Keep him at a distance. I spent the remainder of the loop meditating in my mindscape, cultivating, and practicing katas. When the end came, I was more than ready. It had been time to move on from the Bloodwoods for a while now¡­ I stood alone in a forest of massive trees. Grass and shrubs covered my crouched body, and my hand rested on a tree. Massive trees crashed to the ground a few miles north of my position. They fell with heavy booms that cracked like thunder. Darkness and thick clouds covered the sky, and smoke filled the air. While I waited for the battle to finish, I meditated. After hours spent in my mind of planning, I stepped back into the main realm. Calmness had claimed the entire Bloodwood Forest, compensating for the chaos that had taken place moments earlier. I waited a few more minutes before venturing out into the graveyard. Icy was waiting for me on his stake, as patient as ever. "Hang in there," I said to myself, picking up my frozen body with my domain. I had a new, perfect hiding spot; I just needed to do some cleaning first. The dungeon was cleared in less than two hours. No fire or tricks were needed this time. I walked through the portal with Icy in tow and started tearing the place apart. Lips put up a little bit of a fight. Catching her off guard gave me a surmounting advantage that she didn''t get the chance to recover from. Gulley, Roots, and Heft proved weak against my domain and couldn''t weather my water blades and freezing waves long. Roots ¡ªthe boss inside the jungle''s throat, Heft¡ªthe Rat King, and all the dungeon beasts practically froze if they got too close. It took one more hour to collect all the cores and valuables inside the dungeon and to create a safe place for Icy. I fashioned a cloak from the wolfbears and a pack as the last item of business. As I strolled out of the portal, I whistled one of Lana''s favorite songs. I was excited for some new experiences. Time wasn''t on my side, but I still had a huge opportunity. I wasn''t going to squander it, especially considering the cost. I slid through the forest at an alarming speed, passed the outskirts of Tom''s Pond, and continued water-slinging myself to Cyanne. Cyanne had a population of roughly two thousand residents, a quarter of which was military. The location was deemed a necessary stronghold to support Landfall if the coastal town was lost or needed aid. High, durable walls of enchanted metals surrounded the three-road city, and the houses and shops looked more like bunkers. Four arcane towers towered over the four corners of the wall, and a set of guard towers was built by all four gates. Instead of looking like a looming castle town, the city managed to turn the aggressive walls and bold towers into a majestic palace that blended with the neighboring Teardrop Mountains. Besides being a soldier base, Cyanne provided agriculture, mining, and goods. But life mostly catered to the transient lifestyle of stationed soldiers. I skipped the south entrance and reached the east city gates a little after the sun had fallen. The gates were already closed, and the guards were on double duty. I preferred to sleep in the wilds and not bother with the night shift security, but I was here on a mission, and the best time to get information was at night. 56. Out of Water "Ae," I called the guards at the gate before I got too close. "Hello, traveler," a guard stationed on the watch tower called back to me. "Bit late to be walking about, eh?" This came from a guard standing behind the gate. "Keep your hands up. What is your status?" That came from what I assumed was the night watch captain based on gear score and pauldron size. Gear score was played among the Alderi regulars for fun and as a marine with often higher stakes. The numbers were based on a scale of ten, and each piece of equipment had its own rating. All sorts of criteria were included in the rating, such as style, quality, practicality, enhancements, and material. A person would designate a target and ask for a score. Everyone participating would reveal their rating simultaneously, and the closest rating to the average would win, establishing the target''s gear score¡­ not on the average but on the winner''s rating. It was a silly system meant to distract bored soldiers. The silliness didn''t stop the game from spreading outside of the military and becoming ingrained into society. Shops often priced their gear based on their ranking number. People mocked the idea only to realize that shop pricing was always based on the seller''s value. This realization gave the gear score system more validation. The military standard score was a three. The captain had complimented his dark green armor with added runes to the chest plate, a black robe, and upgraded boots. His gear score was close to a five, and his rank was probably templar at the decon rank¡ªputting him at least three levels above me. Status was basic information such as name, rank, class, element, and purpose. Most of the time, not all of the information was needed, but the night guard tended to be more particular with it. I learned it was best to comply. "I''m Kip, the owner of Decent Maps and Guides." I cringed at the awkwardness of my introduction. I should''ve practiced. "I''m putting together another tour and have had requests to visit Cyanne. Figured I''d check it out before I put it on the market." "I never heard of you," the captain said. "It''s a small shop out on the frontier¡­ Rarely do tours. The captain shook his head and chuckled. The frontier was a great place for maps. But a terrible place for tour guides. Adventurers didn''t typically want to be guided on their adventures, and the frontier was the place for adventurers. "Badge?" The captain asked, straightening out his face. "Left it at home," I said. This got a sigh in response. "Terrible habit for a tour guide," one of the guards said as the rest chuckled. "Part of the branding." I looked up confidently. "You''ll get no discounts or special treatment," said the captain. "Wouldn''t be a true customer experience otherwise." "Class and rank?" The captain asked. "Dowse ranger. Disciple rank." "Selene''s pits." A guard mumbled. The rest cut their chuckles and lowered and lowered their heads. The reaction was new. "Aye. You have no need for discounts then," said the captain as he re-evaluated me. "Weapons stay sheathed; call for guards if there is a problem¡ªif you can. Keep your summons in control and mana usage low. We have plenty of sleepers here, so do not get the idea that you can have your way with the town. Absolutely no fighting will be tolerated. Understood?" Jed added extra emphasis to the last part. I couldn''t blame him. It was a fair assessment. I looked extra rugged in my tattered clothing and wolfbear hide, and orcs tended to gravitate toward violence. Mostly just a friendly brawl or two a night. Mainlanders found the entertainment to be less exciting. I nodded my head as I lowered my arms. "Good. Check out Trents on the south corner of the northwest block. If you can not find it, the Fair Maiden is in the town center. It is almost as good as Trents¡ªyou will not find a better night''s sleep anywhere else." The captain winked. "Tell them Jed sent you." The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The heavy metallic gate raised. I stepped to walk through. Jed stepped in front of me. I looked up to see the captain, barely a couple inches taller than me, peering down. "I''ve only got cores," I said. "That will do." Jed reached out his hand. "Consider it a tip for my¡­ guidance." The guards chuckled again. The captain was having himself a night. I contemplated making a fuss over whether to overcharge for entrance or not. Usually, it was less than ten credits to enter a town. If there was a charge at all. The fee was much more common in the remote cities. It wasn''t worth my time. I handed over a regular core worth a hundred credits. The captain gave it a look, tossed it up and down several times, and then handed it off to another guard who pocketed it. "Enjoy your stay in Cyanne." "Thanks, Jed." "Oh, my name is not Jed." The captain''s clever smirk was accompanied by more background laughter. "What¡ªwhy¡­nevermind." I didn''t care to get into it. The night watch was a different type of guard. They had their own rules and system of entertainment. It was best not to engage whenever possible. I smiled, gave them a head nod, and walked into town. I wouldn''t visit Trents or Fair Maidens; those establishments were too casual for blood cults to hang out at. Before I could visit any tavern, I had to rush to a bank and exchange my cores for credits. I set out to find the bank and ran into another setback. Being a small town, the people had small town tendencies. It was a miracle I even made it through the gate. The shops and bank had already closed for the day. Shame. I could''ve used a change of clothes and hated paying with cores; it was uncivilized, which wouldn''t help my image, and the deals never favored the buyer. Oh well. What good was money if not to waste? And my reputation could afford to take a hit. I walked down the paved road for a block. If it weren''t for the fact that it was night, the market square in the southeast quadrant would be bustling with activity. It was surrounded by sturdy buildings and reinforced stalls offering a variety of goods. On the other side of the road I walked, the barracks and training grounds took up the entire northeast section. Clamored echoes of soldiers honing their skills could still be heard, a testament to the town''s dedication. The formidable keep, doubling as the town hall, overlooked the settlement. At the same time, a fortified church stood as a spiritual center and a refuge. The housing district, along with a few more convenience shops, took up the entirety of the southwest district, while crafters and guilds were stationed at the northwest square or in the city hall. Cyanne was a clean, quiet city. A few residents were still cleaning up their shops, guards made frequent patrols, and those I crossed on the road averted their gaze or ignored me. I walked into one of the few buildings that was open. It was a small tavern that used its upper floors as an inn. A small group was inside, and none seemed interested in my entrance. Which was fair; I wasn''t important or glamorous, but I still expected a head turn or two¡ªeven if it was a force of habit. On my way to the bar, I noticed a small party of adventurers sitting at a corner table. The ongoing chatter muffled Their serious discussion, and I couldn''t work out a word they were saying. As I sat down, I met the barkeep''s eyes. She was a little shorter than me but had a much smaller frame. Her hair was dark and long, and she kept blowing a strand away from her eye that had gotten loose from her headband. She was cleaning a cup and only looked up when I sat down. "What will be tonight?" She asked, still holding her cup. "Need a room, food, and drink, please." "Food is five credits. You can choose between a brown roast or a white roast. Drinks are two credits¡ªwe only serve ale or beer. If you want something else, go somewhere else. Do not ask for any of that fancy shit. This is not the Fair Maiden; we do not pretend to be. A single bed room is ten credits a night. Will that be enough, or do you need something more?" She asked with a look of scrutiny. "White roast." I''d eaten a lot of beef lately. Chicken sounded like a nice change. "Ale is great, and maybe water¡­" "I said no fancy shit." The barkeep put the glass down firmly. "You want that clean, clear stuff to go somewhere else." "Ale is great." I thought about pushing for an empty cup but didn''t want to risk it. I already had one mark against me. "Single bed will do just fine¡­ and I''m gonna need a bath." I placed a regular core on the table. The innkeeper''s eyes lit up upon seeing it. "I do not have the means to break this up." She looked at me with disdain. "That''s fine. I''ll be here for a couple nights. That should cover my costs, right?" The barkeeper nodded. "Good. You can help yourself to the rest." "Thank you," she said with a half smile that didn''t meet her eyes as she placed a key on the table. "The room is on the second level, third door on the left. I gave you a room with a tub. I take it you can take care of the waters yourself?" "Ae." "Good. The water rune is busted and only trickles out cold water. Go get settled and washed up. I will have your dinner ready by the time you are done." "Thank you," I said. I left for my room to properly wash and prepare for the night ahead. It was going to be a long one. I had only two conversations and was exhausted. Those probably didn''t count as conversations for most people. This might be my most brutal night yet. 57. A Night of Blood I listened in on the conversations downstairs as I soaked in the tub. My increased awareness and water connection allowed me to hear conversations I wouldn''t be privy to. I didn''t have this type of control before the loops. It was nice, to say the least. However, similar to how sending out my awareness in the forest created an overload of information, listening to half a dozen conversations simultaneously did the same. The spike of information made it hard to gather anything useful. I could restrict my awareness and focus on a conversation or two. I was worried that would lead me to miss out on some information from the missed conversations. The solution was the same as the forest. I restricted the information I received to keywords, cults, blood, gangs, missions, and a handful of other spicy words. After half an hour of spotty conversations, I focused on the table of adventures. The pitcher of ale on the table gave me a clear hearing of the group of five as they started discussing plans for their mission. "I do not like it, Captain." The voice was a bit feminine and had a high pitch. "This place is giving me the creeps. It has been two days of sleeping in shoddy beds, and not one of the locals has offered me a better option." "Perhaps you are not sending out the right vibes." The second voice had a crisp tone and a slightly higher pitch. "Pull your shirt down a bit more." "If Val pulls it down any further, her tits will fall out," a gruff scratchy voice said. "What do you know about a lady''s attire, Captain?" The crispy voice asked with a hint of accusation. "Err." "The only thing Captain knows about a ladies dress is how to¡ª" "That is enough, Lock," the Captain said, cutting off Lock. "Sorry, Jin¡­" Lock''s voice was also coarse, leading me to believe Captain Jin and Lock might be from the same area and possibly be long-time friends based on familiarity. "For what it is worth, I agree with Clair. Val is not putting out enough. It is not her attire, though. We need more bait." "I do not have the right cut for an outfit like Val''s," said Clair, her crisp tone sounding extra sharp. "You do not need to wear an outfit like Val; you just need to be there with her tonight," Lock said. "I thought we decided that the two of us would be too intimidating for the cult to approach," Val said, her higher voice barely discernible as she whispered the last part. "What do you think, Mitch?" Jin asked. "I hate to admit it, but I think Lock is right. No one is approaching Val." "I just need more time." "That''s not what the mission alluded to," Mitch said, his orcish lazy tongue and low voice stood out from the rest. "Lone travelers were picked soon as they stepped out alone. That''s why it''s silver." Silver? The last I saw of the Unruly Gangs mission was only bronze. The mission had been upgraded. Maybe the adventure guild found out about the blood cult. If the mission was silver rank, the adventurer party was probably full of knights and possibly a templar. I had a newfound respect for the group. Not that I didn''t respect them before¡­ it was just more now. It took a lot of dedication to reach twelve levels of cultivation. "That was months ago," the Captain said. "A lot can change in that amount of time. Maybe they are no longer recruiting." "They were never recruiting to begin with," Clair said in a hushed tone. I finished washing and drying my clothes as I listened to the party discuss more plans and options. In the end, Lock''s idea won out. They would add Clair as more incentive for the Cult to approach the ladies at night. I got dressed, fixed my hair, and headed out my door. The conversation at the party had gone cold. In fact I couldn''t pick up traces of any conversation. Odd but not uncommon in taverns according to the law of lulls. The creek in the steps hinted at neglect or proper funds for a skilled grounder to fix the issue. A haze of dust welcomed me at the bottom. I realized it wasn''t dust before I reached the main floor. Odd, I didn''t sense fire mana. The haze was thicker on the ground, hiding the pool of blood I stepped into. I looked down before my next step kicked a headless body. Water mana surged through my channels, coalescing at my fingertips. I tried to get a sense of the tavern by sending out my aura, but the smoke blocked my mana from spreading for more than a couple of feet. Though I couldn''t see the ground, if I focused hard enough, I could make out blurry images of the tavern. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Seats were empty, the barkeep was missing, and tables and chairs had been broken. It was a ripe mess. I didn''t want to, but I walked into the middle of the tavern, kicking corpses on the way. I should''ve headed straight for the exit. I got the sense it wouldn''t be much better outside. Whoever did this was powerful. "Hello?" I called out into the empty, smokey room. My mana was still cycling, and my body was covered in black ice. I couldn''t sense any life, but I had the disturbing feeling of being watched. I took another deliberate step and quickly turned. A smoker stood at the back of the tavern next to the door. She was of average height and wore a hooded white robe that covered her face. Golden scripts were inscribed on the trim of the robe, reflecting the light of the fireball the cultivator held. "You are a hard man to find," said the smoker, her voice had an authoritative tone that felt extra sharp. I looked around the room to see who the smoker was talking to. "They are all dead." "Oh," I said¡ªmore to myself. I took a step back as the fire cultivator stepped forward. "Relax, I am not going to kill you yet." "That doesn''t sound as comforting as you might think it does." I forced the words out. Judging by my inability to push out my domain, I was dealing with a powerful cultivator. As much as I hated it, I was in the smoker''s court. The smoker laughed, revealing the whitest teeth I''d ever seen. My teeth were pristine themselves, a small benefit of being a dowser. In the presence of the smiling woman, I hesitated to open my mouth. She took another step. The motion jostled her loose robe, revealing a jester crown tattoo on her chest. The smoker didn''t bother covering up. She pulled back her hood revealing her olive skin, long slender ears, and white hair. "Do you know how long I have been waiting in this dump for you?" She asked. At this point, I was starting to think I had a problem with punctuality. However, unlike Lips the lady bear and Heft the rat bastard, I sensed that the smoker was actually waiting. I was a little intrigued. It helped that she seemed to want to talk and not just kill. "Five days?" I did some quick math and guessed. The smoker''s head jerked back in disgust as her eyes scrutinized me. "Five days? Who do you think you are?" "Well, the days have become a bit of a blur. Lately, hours felt like days." The smoker nodded. Some mutual ground. Good. I gained a little confidence. "Then there''s this guy at the gate not named Jed, and well, he kind of messed with me." It was too much confidence. The smoker''s scrutiny doubled. I felt like melting under her gaze. She took another step forward. If I could push out my domain beyond arm''s reach, the cultivator would stand where my mana got extra potent. That also meant I was standing in a dangerous spot. "Relax, I will make sure to kill this Jed guy when I am finished with you." "Thanks¡­" The word came out more of a question, which I thought was fair given the circumstances. The smoker smiled, flashing her dangerous teeth. Her eyes sparkled with a bad kind of lust. The smoke around us thickened and heated up. As I started coughing, a trickle of sweat ran into my eye. I wanted to be cool, smile back, and not wipe my eyes. That wasn''t happening. I kept my mouth shut, feeling extra insecure, and wiped my eyes of sweat. The smoker''s smile turned sour. "Where is the princess?" "That''s an odd question to ask," I said sincerely. "What princess?" Now, I looked at the smoker with scrutiny. "Stop playing coy." The temperature rose, and the smoker summoned a fiery staff. As the blazing mana increased around me, I pushed out my own mana to stop from burning. I couldn''t exert my power far, but I had enough skill to resist whatever the smoker was trying to do to me with her domain. "Listen, lady, I have no clue what you''re talking about." "Princess Sunny of the Lumin Kingdom." "The fallen kingdom of the elves?" The smoker nodded. "Sunny died with her parents when their kingdom was sacked." Everyone knew the Jewel of Lochland was dead. The sadness of the princess'' death even reached Adleri, an ocean and continent away from Lumin. "After she faked her death, she fled the land of the elves to come to this dried-out continent where she has been acting like an adventurer and playing at love with a toothless orc." Despite the biteless dig, I''d never felt so grateful to my ancestors for cutting their tusks as I did at this moment. Tusks were impossible to keep white, and my faltering security would''ve shattered entirely at this point as the smoker once again smiled. "Lana is no princess¡­" I spoke the truth but didn''t trust my own words. Smiley¡ªthe elf smoker smiling enthusiast¡ªlaughed heartily in response. "You poor fool. Do you honestly believe Lana was an adventurer who had fallen for a washed-up soldier? She played you and everyone else in your squad¡ªexcept for her annoying bodyguard." "What are you talking about?" I tried to make sense of Smiley''s words and wasn''t having any luck. Lana was more than charming, but she was no princess." "Summon us some chairs. You at least deserve to know why I am going to kill you." 58. The Fallen Kingdom I summoned two chairs, one slightly less comfortable than the other. I was about to hand the uncomfortable chair to Smiley, felt a little guilty, cursed my foolish thoughts, and ended up screwing up the handoff¡ªgiving the superior chair to the creepy smiling lady who was offering story time before killing time. I was out of my element, and it wasn''t just the smoke that constantly nipped at my limited domain. Smiley took my offered chair with a questioning look, inspected it, and then sat down, only to scoot her chair closer to me a second later. Our knees were practically touching, and as the smoker further invaded my space by placing her hand on my leg just above the knee, her robe slipped further, revealing much more than just her tattoo. I adjusted uncomfortably in my chair and made the mistake of inspecting the jester crown. Realizing my folly, I quickly lifted my eyes to meet hers and was met with a devilish smile. "So," I broke the uneasy tension. "Why do you need to kill me?" "Oh, I do not need to kill you; I want to kill you. It is an important difference that I need you to understand." "The results are the same." I decided to not ask about her murderous desire a second time. "Of course they are." The fire sage inhaled deeply and smiled. "Are you stalling?" I looked around the room. Part of me suspected a posse of jesters would appear out of the nether fashioning clubs and smiling brightly. To my disappointment, we were alone. "No." Smiley''s hand tightened on my leg, and I could feel her trying to burn through my armor. "This is too¡­ delicious of a moment. I want to savor it. Betrayal, lust, blood, and fire." Smiley smiled, and for the first time, her smile was sincere. "Absolutely delicious." I tried leaning back to feign comfort. It was a hard sale; neither of us bought it. Fortunately, Smiley had more to say. "When the High King of the Elves sacked the Kingdom of Lumin, he did not believe for a second that the Jewel of Lochland died. Nor would he have liked for that to have happened. You see, the High King has a thing for Sunny. She is to be his wife." Smiley''s eyebrows furrowed, her nose wrinkled, and her lips curled back in a grimace of sheer revulsion. "You sullied the High King''s bride." I wasn''t Lana''s first, nor did any of her promiscuous activities'' sully'' her. The thought of someone being ''sullied'' because of their choices was silliness¡ªfor lack of a better word. I wanted to say all of these things, but I didn''t. The words would be lost on deaf ears. Instead, I scoured my memories of Lana. Did I know she was a princess? Was that a memory Cal had erased? I couldn''t recall any conversations about her hiding from the High King of Lochland, her royalty, a kingdom, or anything of that sort. "Sweet Selene," I cursed, barely containing my frustration in a whisper What did I know? Lana never needed money, and she tended to joke about her wealth. I figured she was good at completing missions, hustling, and saving. Would a refugee princess have some money? Yeah, it was possible. Lana didn''t act pristine or look down on anyone¡­ Those were just generalizations of royalty, though. She was a talented cultivator with enough potential to reach the realm of mages or higher. Talent wasn''t exclusive to nobility but was much more common in that circle. The nobles had the resources, experiences, and foundations to pass on to their children. Besides settling for me, her tastes were exquisite. She did little to avoid the public eye if she was in hiding, though. In fact, she often worked to increase her popularity. On the other hand, Flint was always by her side and very protective. "I know what you are thinking," Smiley said after giving me a couple seconds to process. "Why would a princess fall in love with you?" A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. It wasn''t my precise thought, but close enough. I was getting there. I looked at the smiling elf, taking her character in and searching for flaws. If I had a way to escape, I could run some scenarios in my mindscape. That wasn''t likely in this loop. What I needed now was to gain what information I could. "I''ll tell you what." I smiled back at the smoker. "I will take you to Lan¡ªSunny myself. While we walk there, I want you to answer some questions." "Or I can just play with you until I am satisfied with your answers." The way her eyes gleaned when she said, ''play,'' sent a cold chill through me. "To tell you the truth, I like my proposal a lot more." "Too bad you do not get to pick." A stream of smoke rose from my leg where Smiley''s hand burned through my armor. My cycling mana repaired any damages, but she burned through my icy greaves at an alarming rate. "No, I don''t suppose I do. I guess I''ll talk now." "Submission already. I am¡­ disappointed in you and the princess." "She''s in the Bloodwood Forest, about a day''s walk east of Tom''s Pond." "I know she is in the forest. When is she coming out?" "She''s not." "Damn, she is already hiding. Who blew our cover?" The question was rhetorical. Even if I wanted to answer, the fire sage didn''t give me a chance. "No, this is just another one of Sunny''s games." "She''s not hiding." I contemplated playing this straight or not. Unfortunately, I wasn''t much of a liar and couldn''t scheme something better than the truth. "We will have more time to play until she decides she misses you. I do hope she misses you¡ªfor your sake." "She won''t. She can''t." "Lover''s quarrel?" Smiley asked with a condescending smile. "Death." I condescended and returned a smile. "I do not believe you." "You don''t have to, but you will never find her by waiting or ''playing'' with me." "The Soggs sag," Smiley cursed. "You are telling the truth. He''s going to be very unhappy to hear about this." "Oh, believe me, I am very sad." "Not you, you twit. The H¡ª" Smiley clamped down her teeth as more fire pumped into my leg. She glowered at me, trying harder to pick me apart. "If she is dead, fetch me her ring. Once that is in my possession, I will let you go." A collar appeared in the sage''s hand. It looked to be made of black wood and had scripts written all around it. "Do you know what this is?" "A suppression collar." "I am the only one that can take this off of you. Do not try anything funny." I could not resist and put up a fight. That would either end in my death or a more terrible outcome. On the other hand, I would be suppressed and forced to confront Lana''s ashes. I didn''t want to waste this life on the foolish notion that I could win a fight against a sage. I was just barely a templar. I had no chance, and I could still do plenty with my mana suppressed. Even if I just hid in the forest and meditated, I could spend a couple months inside my mindscape training. I left the smokey tavern alone. Smiley stayed behind and helped herself to what I suspected was my dinner and drink. I grimaced at the pile of dead gate guards on my way out and tried not to dwell on the wasted lives. It didn''t matter this loop. The collar around my neck itched tremendously and it had a constant drain on my mana. All things considered¡­ What in Ao''s abyss just happened? Lana was a princess who was wanted by the Elven High King? Did that make Smiley some type of assassin? Her odd tattoo must''ve had some meaning, else the smoker wouldn''t have gone out of her way to flash it so much. Was I supposed to know what it was? Jesters¡­ A secret combination of smiling assassins? I came here looking for one cult and, in the end, was discovered by a cult of clowns. Not all was lost. If Lana did have a secret ring that possessed a kingdom of riches, I could skip all of this blood cult work for now and cash in on my girlfriend''s resources. It felt a little skeezy, but it was the best path to pursue, given the circumstances. I should''ve pillaged her ashes sooner. Her sword would''ve earned me a small fortune even if she didn''t have a ring. It is not enough to get into an elite academy, but enough to cover part of the down payment. I tried to scratch under the collar to mild degrees of success. This was a terrible night, and now I had a long walk back into the Bloodwoods with no mana to hasten my pace. 59. The Princess Walking was the pits. After months of water slinging and whipping through the roads, I''d forgotten how much I hated traveling on foot. It was too late to buy a horse or a similar mount, and Smiley made it abundantly clear she wouldn''t let me wait. This raised the question: Why was she forcing me to walk if she felt the task was urgent? I chalked it up to typical smoker style¡ªhot and pushy¡­? Irrational¡­? No. Damn, I forgot the word. The important takeaway was all smokers were the same. Most likely, Smiley was hovering in the distance, waiting for me to bolt or try something funny. I wasn''t gonna do any of that. My plan was to head back to the graveyard and solve the mystery of the missing princess. If I had the fire sage figured out right, she would follow me into the forest as well and most likely try to kill me there. An assassin from the guild of Jesters¡­ the thought played in my mind repeatedly. I knew there was something to it, but I wasn''t connecting the dots. Did it have something to do with the High King of the elves? I tried to think back on all my past conversations. Lana didn''t mention the High King much, if at all¡ªwhich made sense given the new light of understanding. Samantha, my close friend from my former marine squad, talked quite a bit about Lochland. Unfortunately, much of what she said was a blur. Selene''s pits, come to think of it, I couldn''t picture Sam''s face anymore, and the last look of her wide eyes when she got buried beneath rock was deeply ingrained in my mind. I''d sometimes wake up in a cold sweat when I dreamed about her terrified expression. Her death gutted me, and yet, I couldn''t remember her face. My mind ran with worry as a panic about Cal''s tracer consumed my thoughts. What else had I forgotten¡­ How much more was I going to forget? The pace of my light jog picked up. My plan for this recursion was to join an intense cult of body cultivation to get on the fast track of progression. Robbing the blood cult in Cyanne was a start to the plan. I''d hoped I could buy my way through admission with enough money. My goal was still the same. It just had a slight detour that might actually be a shortcut. Once I secured the money, I would seek out a top-tier cult and rapidly train my body to reach higher levels. Once my body was at the ninth rank, I''d switch to spirit cultivation. There was a lot more I wanted to do and see in my loops; I firmly believed it was necessary to take breaks. However, the fear of losing essential memories¡­ of losing Lana¡ªremoved any thought that I had time to spare. I settled into a comfortable jogging pace. My straight course into the woods veered me from the road to Tom''s Pond, four miles outside Cyanne. I didn''t have a road to follow, but I was confident in my path. It didn''t take long before I let my passive mind take control of navigating. At the same time, my main focus entered a state of meditation. I wasn''t entirely in my mindscape; I was in between the realm of my mind and the physical realm. Time dilated a fraction of what it did in the between state and created simulations weren''t as potent or easy. I pushed through the limitations and tried to understand the new twist. The last time I visited Cyanne, I was there for a couple of days, made a much bigger presence, and never saw Smiley or fellow Jesters once. The only difference was timing. I visited Cyanne immediately after this recursion started. The last time I went into town, a week had already passed. I wasn''t Smiley''s target, but it was clear that she wanted Lana. However, it seemed like she was looking for me. Was she tracking me to get to Lana, and if so, why? Out of our squad I was the closest to Lana and probably the weakest. Lana was a creeper, so she might have light runes that dispelled tracking. If she had those types of runes, though, why not share them with the rest of the squad? Why not hide better? I continued to work through the mystery while I passively navigated the terrain. Suppose I was trying to follow a group closely. In that case, I''d probably pick the group''s most ignorant or arrogant member to be my mark. Someone easy to follow¡­ someone who didn''t suspect they were being followed¡­ In that light, it made sense why Lana and Flint weren''t Smiley''s mark. They would be extra cautious about people looking for them if they were hiding. My guess about keeping the rest of us in the dark was that Lana and Flint were trying hard to live a life that didn''t look like they were in hiding, allowing them to hide in plain sight. It was wise to keep their identity secret. That allowed the rest of us to behave normally, which played right into their hands. It must''ve been working, too. The Lumin Kingdom and the royal family died ten years ago. That meant that if Lana was Princess Sunny, she had successfully remained hidden for ten years. The encounter with Smiley played over in my mind repeatedly. Her white teeth were no longer a shock, and I had an in-depth look at the tattoo on her chest. The three points of the hat each had four bells on them, each bell a different color. The cap had a large checkered pattern of red and black, and there was a script of runes I couldn''t read along the headband. The Jesters were definitely a cult, and judging from the conversation, they were closely tied to the High King. Perhaps they were the High King''s secret band of assassins or adventurers. It would be no different than the Alderi Golds¡ªThe Deliverer''s personal band of guards and assassins and most likely the nine cultivators that were with him as he sowed havoc in the bloodwoods. A cult of Jesters and a lost princess¡­ this loop was nothing like the vampire punching party I thought it would be. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I glimpsed the harsh rays of the early morning sun just as I entered the forest. It was the second day of this loop. I didn''t cultivate the mana before I left for town, which meant it would rain today or tomorrow. The further I walked into the Bloodwoods, the more I suspected the wet weather was an isolated occasion. I slowed my pace to a crawl. My passive control over movement was skilled enough to navigate through the forest at my jogging pace, but I wanted to dive deeper into my mindscape. Cal was in the room I left him in. He was tucked against the corner in a ball. His grayish-blue skin looked pale, and he had massive bags under his large round eyes. The flayen''s mental fortitude was broken. I resented the man and what he was doing to me, but I wasn''t going to waste a resource. "Calypso." The flayen looked up when I spoke his name. I changed the room to be a lighter and natural environment and created a spread of food. Cal didn''t respond to the changes. "What do you know about my friends?" "Very little. In my loops, I did not bother trying to save them, and they died before I had a chance to interact with them. The girl did manage to cast a spell on you before she died. Initially, I thought she had killed you. That turned out to be wrong." "Did you ever see a fire sage with a jester tattoo on her chest?" I asked. "She had white hair, decent teeth, long ears, and olive skin." "Purity?" "The vampire slayer?" I asked. The name brought up our conversation about leeches, swamps, vampires, and some lady named Purity. "Has she slayed any vampires?" Asked Cal. "Probably at least one." There was a chance one of the taverngoers was a member of the blood cult. I didn''t get a good look, but I noticed I wasn''t the only one listening to the adventurer''s conversation. The mug of ale I connected to had a string connecting it to another source. "Yes, I have seen her." "When?" "After you poisoned me and burned down the forest, you lost a fight against the raging fire, and the lady you just described visited to collect the fire spirit that was created." So much of what Cal said was a blur. There was a fire, I remember that, and two cultivators fighting. One fire and the other earth? I shook my head and projected an image of Smiley to Cal. "Is this Purity?" I asked. "Yes." "Has she entered the forest other than that time?" "No." Cal picked himself off the floor, dusted off his robes, and tried to straighten his stance. Tension marks crested his face, and his ''beard'' was unkempt. He took a deep breath and clicked his tongue. "Show me what happened. Maybe I can help solve whatever is baffling you." We watched and discussed the encounter multiple times. Our conclusion was that Purity¡ªthe smiling jester assassin that put the suppression collar around my neck, formerly known as Smiley¡ªavoided the Bloodwood Forest. The only time she entered was after a good portion of the forest had burned down. Cal didn''t think I was her target at the time, though. I spent a few more hours meditating in my mindscape. I was close to the recursion site but wasn''t ready to enter. If my speculation was correct, Purity would visit me shortly after and put an end to this cycle. Delaying too long would probably end in my death as well. With my time, I trained and battled against the fire sage. It didn''t end well. Especially since I didn''t have my mana. It was raining when I crossed into the opening of the forest created by the battle of mages. I walked straight to the graves and quickly noticed I wasn''t alone. Massive wolfbears had feasted on the corpses and evolved. I counted twelve at epic rank. I cursed under my breath. This must''ve been a stray pack that wasn''t in the dungeon. There was about a hundred yards between the wolfbears and me. It didn''t look like they noticed me yet. I stepped back slowly, retreating from the battlefield. Without my mana, I had no summons. That meant no weapons to fight with or arrows to shoot from Snowpiercer. One of these loops, I''d need to find a way to better equip myself. Before I could make it into the trees, one of the beasts noticed me. It alerted the whole pack, creating a frenzy of growling and laughter. I started running and could hear the thump of fast footsteps behind me. I wasn''t going to make it in time. I slid to a stop as I planted my feet to hold my ground. The fastest of the pack was a second behind me. My only option was to fight. The collar around my neck weakened me, but I wasn''t powerless. I punched the laughing wolfbear in the face. The beast''s laugh turned to a whimper as its face crashed into the ground, and it slid away. My knuckles were bloody from connecting with the teeth. I dodged the next beast''s lunge and punched the third wolfbear in the snout. Bones crunched as the halted beast collapsed in its tracks. The rest of the wolfbears surrounded me, including the first beast I knocked down. I had to dodge and fight the second wolfbear that attacked, and as I did, the rest of the pack closed their circle. I took a couple bites to the arm and leg before I killed the second beast. The fight took too long. Ten elite spirit beasts attacked at once with tooth and claw. I fought back as hard as I could, punching, kicking, and retaliating in any way I could. I managed to maim a couple more before they could sink their teeth into me. Once they got a firm bite, they didn''t let go. The pain was tolerable; I''d experienced much worse many times over, but my movement was restricted. My fight was nearly finished when they pulled me to the ground. The only reason I was still alive was from the collar protecting my throat. I tried to resist as much as I could with the little movement I had. The best I could do was to fight to my stomach to protect sensitive body parts. The pain started burning, and the smell of burnt fur worked its way to my buried nose. The weight on my back dispersed a moment later, and the biting stopped. A light residue fell on my exposed skin, irritating my wounds. "Look at that. I just saved your life," the fire sage said, her voice a perversion of joy. I think this means you owe." I didn''t need to pull my face out of the dirt to see Purity''s smiling face. I could already picture it vividly. "Now, be a doll and show me which one of those corpses belonged to the princess. I do not want to be here any longer than needed." 60. The Kingdomss Jewel I kept my face buried in the dirt a moment longer. A good part of me didn''t want to get up. That could''ve just been a chewed-up leg doing the persuading, though. I struggled to stand. White flames covered Purity''s hand, which she held out casually. Death by fire should be better than death by wolfbears. I tried my best to ignore my gaping wounds. The small glimpse I got made me pale. Purity''s averted gaze didn''t go unnoticed either. Dirt, ash, blood, and drool covered my body and clothes. I didn''t bother wiping any of it off. After another few seconds to regain my breath, I limped my way over to the graves. Purity walked by my side. "They really are all dead," the smoker said with a hint of amusement. "What a shame. What happened here?" I kept my mouth shut and continued limping. My enhanced body worked overtime to repair the damage. However, the process was slow, and it would take a couple of days to completely recover at this rate. "How did you survive? Judging by the mana levels, this must have been a war of thousands of people. There were no reports of soldiers outside of Cyanne, though. No, this was not the work of typical soldiers." Purity sniffed the air and held a licked finger up. This was the work of mages." I could feel Purity''s fascinated glare as she took my measure, making the walk more uncomfortable. About a hundred rough steps later, we got to the graveyard. What was left over of the corpses was a disgusting mess. Sasha had remained the most intact¡ªwhich wasn''t saying much since she was just a torso on a pole. I quickly turned away from the sight and noticed Purity keenly looking at the torso. "Which one of these corpses belonged to Sunny? Or will we have to dig through a pile of ash?" "She''s here." I pointed to the pile of ashes next to Lana''s sword, Light''s Edge. Purity prompted me to dig through the ashes by pointing with her hand. I countered with a nope, firmly shaking my head. "Ughh," the sage complained, rolling her eyes. "Fine." She waved her hand once more, causing Lana''s ashes to swirl. Picked up in the small cyclone were the slender sword and a smaller silver ring. Purity grinned and pulled the ashes, along with the two items, toward herself. She examined the ring for a moment before putting it on her finger. She gave her hand a look over and broke out in laughter. "Thank you." Purity put her ring hand down and drew Light''s Edge. The sword shimmered despite the darkened skies. "Unfortunately for you, doll, it is the end of the line." I tried to move and found that intense heat had trapped me in a tight space. A step in any direction would turn my body to ash. Purity took two quick steps, positioning herself in front of me and stabbed me through the heart. She laughed euphorically as my body dropped to the ground. Inhabiting a clone body was an odd experience. I didn''t actually have a heart¡­ nor should I feel pain, and yet, my chest struggled to pump, and searing pain spread from Light''s Edge. Souls were a complicated mess. This loop was as good as over. My body was dying, and I had no way to recover or fight back. Instead, I used the last of my strength, positioning my falling body to land on my side. It was the most bearable option. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. As a parting gift, Purity put her boot to my face and, using it as leverage, pulled out the sword. The sage blew me a kiss and launched herself twenty feet into the air. She hovered there briefly, snapped her finger, and flew into the clouds. I smelt the smoke before I felt the worst burning sensation working its way through my legs. Curses and screams followed. I nearly passed out and knew that if I did, this loop would be over. In a sense, it was already over for me, but I wasn''t dead yet, and if I could make it to my mindscape, I could train for hours while my body died. It took a while to ignore the pain I felt enough to relax and fall into a trance. For a moment, I felt like I was back on the pike, trying to get comfortable. The trick, in this case, was slow, gentle breaths. I barely got enough air with the technique, but it reduced the pain I felt in my chest significantly. My legs were another matter. Closing my eyes helped a little bit. At the rate of the fire working through my body, I probably had five hours inside my mindscape. Thankfully, in my realm, I didn''t feel pain. There were plenty of warnings that I was dying. The signs were easy to ignore, though. "You are dying," Cal said as I walked into his room. It was one of those half-statement, half-question type greetings. As far as ''hellos'' go, it was terrible. I''d cut the flayen some slack. He wasn''t doing too great himself. At least he wasn''t still balled up in the corner. "Ae, this hasn''t been my best loop¡­" I tilted my head in consideration. "Far from the worst," I added. Death by crawlers still haunted me. Why couldn''t that memory be removed? "I don''t have much time, so I thought we could watch some scenes together and prepare for the next encounter against Purity." Even with Cal''s help, the practice session didn''t end well. There was an entire realm of power between Purity and I. The fact that I could withstand her direct domain as a low templar was a victory. In the end, it didn''t matter how I fought. I couldn''t defeat the fire sage. Eventually, my loop of purity came to an end. I stood alone in a forest of massive trees. Grass and shrubs covered my crouched body, and my hand rested on a tree. Massive trees crashed to the ground a few miles north of my position. They fell with heavy booms that cracked like thunder. Darkness and thick clouds covered the sky, and smoke filled the air. I scratched my neck and cycled my mana. Suppression collars were terrible tools, and I was glad to be rid of mine. After the battle settled and the victors left, I made my way to the dead. The lingering energy felt fresh and alive. Smoke still smoldered in a few spots. "Sorry for disturbing your remains," I said to Goldi as I dug through her ashes. Light''s Edge rested close by. I would be taking the sword with me from here on out. It was the sensible thing to do. It only took a few seconds of sorting before I found the silver ring. I held the jewelry up close to inspect it. It was a basic silver ring. Usually, rings of value had runes scripted into them. The ring that held Snowpiercer, my bow, was forged in the shape of a rune script. Lana''s ring was plain. Only when I reached out with my mana did I sense an ocean''s depth within it. I swallowed hard and held my breath as I reached for a connection. A few minutes later, I found the open connection and bound the ring to myself. When I saved my friends, I would give Lana her ring back. Now connected to me, the silver band expanded to fit my finger. I slid it on and watched it disappear. "Thanks, Goldi," I whispered to Lana''s disturbed ashes. With the ring on and connected to me, I could sense what was within. The kingdom''s worth of treasures inside made me chuckle and shake my head. 61. Filthy Rich Lana was a princess¡ªnot just any princess. She was Princess Sunny, the Jewel of Lumin. She became so popular that she started wearing styled pauldrons, and the world adopted her fashion. The princess disrupted the entire gear score system, and estimates took nearly a year to adjust to the new style. I couldn¡¯t hold back my smile as I sorted through all of her cores, credits, and gear she stored in her ring. The ring was probably worth a small kingdom, and it contained enough wealth inside that Lana probably could¡¯ve bought a few kingdoms. Needless to say, she was wealthy beyond belief. The most peculiar item in the ring was a plain note with my name on it. I summoned the letter out of the storage ring. I could practically hear Lana¡¯s smooth-accented voice reading her words to me. Hey Bear, I am sorry I am no longer with you. There was so much more time I wanted to spend with you. Most likely, my past caught up with me, putting you in grave danger. If you are reading this, though, that means you managed to escape the disaster somehow. Good! I am so sorry I endangered your life. I never wanted to hurt you. I should have kept my distance from you but could not summon the strength to leave. My past was one of tragedy and sorrow. I tried my best to leave it all behind. Then I found you and my world became whole again. I couldn¡¯t let you go. It was selfish and reckless. I cleared the lump in my throat as I read through the details of Lana¡¯s past: the fall of her Kingdom, the betrayal of the High King, her escape, and years of hiding. She wanted to tell me everything¡ªto include me in the life she was trying to escape¡ªbut Flint, her guardian, convinced her otherwise. It was easier to hide two people than it was to hide three. All things considered, I was at peace with Lana¡¯s secret. Sure, it would¡¯ve been nice to be included, but that puts so much weight on my shoulders to keep their secret safe. I think I¡¯d make a similar decision if the roles were switched. It was a terrible position, and the two did what they thought was best. Besides, how would I even help them? I had nothing to offer to their concealment. No, I didn¡¯t feel any ill will or betrayal for the secret, nor did I think I deserved to. Sometimes, life was just rotten, and all one could do was deal with the mush. The treasures in the ring are all yours. Half would have gone to Flint if he had survived, but if I am dead, so is he. You probably do not feel right about taking all of my possessions. That is silly. I am dead, and I owe you. Besides, I was going to marry you; I just needed to sort out some of my issues first. Unfortunately, some of my issues are now yours. Primarily a pesky band of secret assassins. They are the High King¡¯s Jesters¡ªone of the most powerful cabals in the world. I can no longer keep you safe from them. You now have enough resources to buy wards, guards, and gear to keep you safe from most of the Jesters. I do not think they will send their mages at you. This may sound like a lot, but I am sure you will be fine. You are a survivor¡ªeven more capable than me. Now, shed a few tears for me, and be done. We lived as best as we could together. Cherish the memories and move on. I know you will not be able to forget me, as I could never forget you, but I want you to find happiness. I want you to live a long and happy life. Start a harem with Betty and have a bunch of wild and crazy sex with her coven¡­ for the both of us. I chuckled a moment over her last bit. For a small moment, it felt like Lana was standing right next to me, making the familiar sex joke in person. I could feel her warmth, smile, and sparkle in her eyes. I had to look away from the letter to regain my composure. The reality of the empty forest almost hurt as much as the illusion. I love you, Kainoa. Not even death can separate my heart from yours. You are my soul. I am so sorry I will not be there to fight against the world with you. Keep fighting the good fight. You know I am forever on your team, and if you get lost, you can find me in the golden sun. Forever and always, I cherish your love and patiently wait to meet you and your harem on the other side. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Love, Goldi. I didn¡¯t move the letter fast enough to keep a tear from staining it. It took a hard swallow to clear the lump in my throat, and no matter how many times I beat my chest, I couldn¡¯t scratch the deep pain that wallowed inside. I folded the letter and gave it a kiss, held it close, and then unfolded it to read it again and again. Call it cliche, but the letter meant more to me than all the riches inside the ring. I let myself be sappy for several more minutes, then folded up the letter and put it in my boot¡ªan old habit formed over years of service in the Alderi military. ¡°Hang in there, Goldi,¡± I said to the pile of rummaged ashes. ¡°We¡¯ll be together soon enough. Then you can personally pick my harem.¡± The joke brought a hollow smile. Besides credits and cores, Lana had a healthy stash of potions, runes, weapons, and armor. That she held items for Flint and me didn¡¯t surprise me. She often carried our gear in her storage, and the light cultivator loved giving gifts. First, I pulled out a pair of mana pistol axes. They looked similar to the repeating crossbows that were becoming popular because they could fire multiple rounds. The size was nearly the same, and like the crossbows, the ax pistols were covered in runes. The similarities ended there. Instead of firing bolts, pointed pellets were stored in a chamber. The pellets themselves seemed to be solid mana-resistant material. There was no string mechanism to launch the pellets, and at the bottom of the handle was the head of the ax. Conveniently, the end of the barrels of each pistol was semi-fashioned into a handle. I never saw these pistols in action¡ªnever heard mention of them except for the times Flint made references to missing his axes. I¡¯m surprised the shield druid didn¡¯t have the axes attached to him like the plethora of accessories he kept on his belts and bandoliers. The man always joked that part of the reason for his plus size was so that he could wear more equipment. There were dozens of pellet pouches inside Lana¡¯s ring and other Flint weapons I was more familiar with. A long, thick staff, ebony shields, a beater stick¡ªwhich was sort of a club and a sword, and repeating crossbows that could be worn on the wrist. Along with weapons were a set of extra clothes for Flint. I didn¡¯t bother looking through those. Not only would his clothes not fit, they were far from my style. Flint was a druid and believed wholeheartedly that he needed to look the part. He managed to make it look classy somehow. I was confident I couldn¡¯t. It took some time to sort through all of the runes. There were twelve sets, each with at least a hundred runes. Three runes were utility, providing warmth, coolness, and healing. The rest were combat-focused: flash, smoke, explosive, silencing, burning, darkness, freezing, buffing, and shocking. I¡¯d seen a few of them in action. Flint was particularly fond of the explosive and smoke combo. My stored collection was a mix of my simple black and gray clothing style and Lana¡¯s pick of hats, pauldrons, accessories, and weapons. There were a half dozen black pants that were made from spider thread. The pants were rugged, providing tactical purposes for adventuring, and somehow managed to look casual. Some people went a lifetime without finding their perfect pants. I found mine soon after opening my map shop. I pulled out a set of clothes and equipped them, including a dark gray tunic, forest green cloak, belt, bandolier that connected to a quiver, and Light¡¯s Edge, which fit on my back as well. After a few adjustments, I was able to add a variety of runes to the bandolier and belt, as well as two ax-pistols and a pouch of pellets, all of which were concealed inside my cloak. Together, I looked like a well-dressed adventurering ranger. Lana would be proud. It felt good to be equipped appropriately once more. Relying on mana to summon weapons was never a good choice, especially when every sleeper knew a silencing spell and devices to cut off mana were becoming more prevalent. After my collared experience, I didn¡¯t want to travel into towns without proper protection. For two days, I practiced with the pistols until I became proficient, tinkered with my gear some more to get the perfect fit, meditated, cultivated, and exercised. I was just about to head back to town, but then I decided to spend one more day training. It was good to be safe about these things, and I wanted to avoid any encounters with Purity if possible. The next day, I got up before the sun and rushed to Cyanne. By the time I got to town, the sun was up, which meant the guards were much more relaxed about their duty. I slipped past the gate without any hassle¡ªbarely sparing a nod for the guards¡ªand made my way to the teleport in the town center. I paid the fee and portal to a city near the capital. Lana had many treasures in her ring, but she was missing a few valuable items. I was going to remedy that. 62. Upgrades Agoria was a sizable continent and one of the four major continents in Helm. The population was predominantly human. Of the four land masses Agoria was the most diverse. Lochland was ruled by five elven kingdoms. Mauna, the mountain island of the highlanders and mountaineers, was ruled by the Shogar. Far to the east was the continent of the horde, where goblins, kobolds, and bugbears lived. Oceans separated each continent, and except for the horde, who were just shits, there was little conflict between the other fractions. The constant raiding of the horde probably contributed to the overall peace. The Dragon Spine mountain range stretched from the north to the south of Agoria. The high mountains collected a lot of water and filled the land with rivers and lakes. Two empires and one kingdom divided the continent into three nations. The Alderi Empire claimed nearly three-quarters of the continent, leaving the Greia Empire and Lackia Kingdom to squabble over the northern quarter. Coalville was a large city thirty miles north of the capital city of Alderi. It was the third largest city in Alderi and considered a shopping haven nationwide. A branching cluster of mountains from the Dragon''s Spine and its close proximity to the capitol provided ample protection. Being the closest major city to the Frontier also led to an influx of adventurers, which in turn created more security. Bounties and quests had a quick turnaround. The portal into the city once brought travelers outside of the city wall. Opportunistic merchants braved the dangers of setting up shop to get an edge on the market. The gamble paid off. Within a year of the first shop setting up by the portal, an entire outer market district was created along with a new city wall. In response, the inner district dug deep into its pockets to create a pristine shopping experience that catered to deeper pockets. The city was essentially split in two. The outer district catered to ordinary travelers, merchants, and adventurers¡ªregular folk. The inner district catered to the nobility, the wealthy, and the powerful. Strict trading laws were established to further bridge the gap between the districts, dictating what items were allowed to be sold in the lower district, and gold passes were created to enter the inner district. I stepped out of the portal and immediately felt my mana restricted within and without. The portal was guarded by four guards who sported high gear scores in the thousands and pauldrons that discouraged anyone but mages from messing with them. Even mages would question their chances in a fight against the portal guards. It would take someone skilled in mana-less combat to have a chance against these guards. The four guards barely paid attention as I followed the path out of the enclosed portal. I walked out of the hub and was greeted by another guard. The unhelmed guard kept her helm off so that she could smile and greet each traveler with a quick welcome. "Welcome to Coalville. Keep your weapons holstered and register with the city center if you want a mana permit." "Thank you," I said to the blonde guard as I walked by. She gave me a slight nod before she gave the same welcome to the travelers behind me. There was no need to ask where the city center or shops were. Signs marked the way to points of interest, making it difficult to get lost. The closest building to the portal was The First General Store; next to it was The First Bank, followed by an inn, tavern, shops, and trade stores, such as tailors, blacksmiths, fletchers, and cobblers¡ªall of which had the distinction of First in their title. The further I traveled from the Grand Market Center, the more creative store names became. The Great Forge was a massive building seen from the portal. Next to it was the city center, which served as a general guild hub for the guilds like adventurers, fighters, and crafters. I kept my hood on and my presence as small as possible as I made my way through the dispersed crowd of shoppers filling the streets. I didn''t understand the Jesters, how they hunted, or what Flint and Lana did to hide us from them before. I knew they were looking for me, and I no longer had the protection of my squad to hide me from them. The fact that a sage was stationed in a small town like Cyanne meant that Jester''s operation was extensive. They wanted to track down Lana and were committed to the task. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. I couldn''t wrap my mind around how they found us in the first place. Was it happenstance, were they tipped off, or something else? The whole mission into the Bloodwoods felt off to me, but I didn''t know if it was connected to the High King. There were too many unknowns for me to feel comfortable walking out in the open. The fact was, I was hunted, and anyone could be a hunter. I needed to keep my head low until I was stronger and had a better picture of my enemies. A couple blocks west of the portal, I entered the city center. It was impossible to miss by staying on the main path heading west of the hub. The center was a massive building built over the main paths'' intersection, cutting north, south, east, and west. Coalville''s outer and inner districts had foot traffic only, making buildings like the city center more feasible. I don''t think it would work the same if massive carts or mounts were moving in and out of the building. As I stepped through the west entrance, I was greeted by a high-ranking guard. There was a constant murmur of noise from the ongoing transactions and the cool air runes pushing in fresh air. On both sides of the path were guild shops. Most of them were guilds specific to the outer district, such as the academy and security. I ignored the invitations to sign up and walked toward the city registration desk. The man at the city center''s main desk wore a formal robe of fine material. The golden trim shimmered each time he moved. His hair was neatly trimmed, as was his mustache, which he stroked as he stood up before placing his hands behind his back. "Good morning, traveler," he said in a nasal voice and gave me a crooked smile. "What can I do for you?" "Morn''n." I smiled back. I could almost see the man cringe when he heard the lazy tongue. "Just want to buy a pass to the inner district." The outer district might have a portal ring. I didn''t want just any ring, though. I needed one that could be bound to me and had few limitations. "Purpose?" The attendant made it a point to look down on me¡ªharsh but fair. I wasn''t exactly high-ranked, and my attire, though high-quality, wasn''t exactly high class. It certainly didn''t scream ''noble.'' The man pulled out a gold band from a drawer. The band was covered in runes. Not only did it give access to the inner district, but it could hold credits and be used for shopping. "Shopping and research." I maintained my smile. "I am sure you can find everything you need here in the outer district." The attendant sat down and rested the band on his lap. He smiled crookedly once more. "Tell me what you are looking for, and I will direct you to the right outlets." I heard a sharp whistle just as my back was blasted with pain. Instinctively, I stepped to the side. Two quarrels sped by, both hitting the attendant in the throat. My vision blurred as I watched the purpled-robed man reach for his bleeding neck and choke on blood. He collapsed to the floor, his face pale and hands grasping at his neck. His eyes were wide open and terrified. Panic erupted all around the city center. My limbs felt droopy, but I threw myself over the counter to take cover just as three more quarrels slammed into the desk. My breathing was slow and labored. I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and sleep. So much for subtle, these Jesters were cracked. How did they even find me? Was it even the Jesters? A bunch of questions ran through my mind. The thoughts were helping me stay alert. I needed to focus, though. Whether this was the Jesters or not, I wanted to avoid getting caught or involved. A couple of slaps to my face and a mental surge of determination shook the remaining drowsiness. Reaching behind my back, I found the bolt and, with great effort, pulled it out. I pulled the gold band from the dead attendant''s hands and placed it on my wrist. The attendant''s co-workers behind the table with me were focused on the struggle on the other side. I could hear a battle on the other side of the building. Shouted orders mixed with screams of panic. The three attendants taking cover started channeling their mana. I was glad to see they would be able to fend for themselves. I grabbed three runes from my bandolier and threw one down ten yards to my left. As smoke filled the building, I ran for the exit, throwing more runes ahead to cover my path. I sprint for the exit. If I was lucky, the attackers wouldn''t have someone waiting at the door. I wasn''t lucky. I cursed my luck, drew the mana pistol, and fired. Fortunately, the mana pistol was already loaded with pellets and mana. I fired another round into the shocked man holding his belly with red hands. My second shot was higher, and the man fell back as I passed him. With my other hand, I threw another smoke rune and kept running toward the inner district. 63. On the Run Two guards in the pearly white armor of the inner district intercept my path. I did my best to control my pace to make it look like I was in a hurry rather than escaping danger. Not that it should matter. The guards have one purpose. Let only gold band wearers in. I happened to fall into this category. I flashed the guards my gold band, and they stepped aside, allowing me to jog past them. I felt unsafe, so I kept running through the inner district. That was until I realized my fast pace was creating a scene, making me stick out more. I slowed my jog and focused on blending in with the crowd. I didn''t stay on a straight path and took multiple turns down random alleys. Even on the run, it was hard to miss the elegance of the inner district. The roads were made of marble, each building was an architectural art piece, and several were made of highly durable glass that required the heat of a dragon''s fire to create. Fortunately, despite my irregular path, I still had a good idea of where I was in the city. It had nothing to do with signage, either. The inner district wouldn''t dare blemish its prestige with such nasty sights¡­ It was a pretentious place, which was part of the charm. My familiarity with the district was from a date with Lana. She brought me into the district once, and we splurged for the day, acting like we belonged with high society. The details of the date were now a blur. I knew it happened but couldn''t recall much of what happened. "Sogg''s flickered flame," I cursed under my breath. I''d turned wrong and ended up in a narrow alley between two large clothing stores. Intense glares bored into my back. Light footsteps confirmed the heavy eyes weren''t in my head. The two had cut off my retreat. I stopped as another two stepped into the alley before me. My mind reeled through scenarios. Time slowed as I watched the fight play out in my mind several times in seconds. I lost every battle. There were too many unknowns about my opponents, and I kept favoring them. If they had mana, I was done for. I raised a hand to my thundering heart and kept my breathing rhythmic. I didn''t know the threat that was at my back. Before me stood two large elves. One was dressed in fancy formal wear with a modest top hat. He had a bushy mustache and sharp eyes. His walking cane twirled around his hand in flawless motion. Next to him was a crossbow-wielding brute. He was clad in heavy armor and wore a fine green cloak that matched his ranger hat. My hand rested on my pounding heart. Thoughts of escape and fighting continued to flash in my mind. If I had my mana, I would have a better chance. It was a hopeless thought. The footsteps behind me were getting closer. The elf with the crossbow held his weapon aimed at me as he and his partner got within twenty feet. "Hello, Kip," the well-dressed man said, resting his cane on the ground. "There is no need to worry; we only want to talk." He has a high elven accent that is common for elves who live in the capital city of Crestfall. "Please, you can put your hand down." This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. "Only trying to calm my heart." It was true; my heart was doing all the running my legs couldn''t. This loop just started. I didn''t want it to end so soon, and I hadn''t accomplished my mission of buying a transport ring. "Peaceful talks don''t happen often when one party points bolts at the other." "Pardon me," the crossbowman said. "Force of habit. I do not like to travel down alleys without taking proper precautions. This has nothing to do with you." He forced out a laugh and a fake smile. "It is an odd habit, but Troopes speaks the truth," the mustache man said. "We have traveled down too many alleys to walk so carefreely down them now. With so many sleepers, having a sense of security is impossible, especially in a place so posh as Coalville." I was ready to drop a couple runes and start a chaotic fight. My hand on my heart began to look weird, drawing more attention than I wanted. "We believe you are being hunted," Troopes said, lowering his weapon a little so that it was aimed at my stomach and not my heart. "My squad would like to offer you some help." "I''m good." "With all due respect, your demeanor and involvement in the attack at the town center do not paint the picture of a man that is good." Canes twirled his cane around his hand and rested it on the ground. "We think you are being followed by an elite group of assassins, and word is out that enforcement is after you as well." "Thanks for the offer. I''ll be leaving now." I stepped forward only to be stopped by the raised crossbow now aimed at my head and a streak of lightning forming in the fancy elf''s cane. "The offer is mandatory¡ª" I broke the rune I clutched near my heart, plunging the alley into darkness. I hit the ground as a bolt rushed over my head and rolled as lightning struck the ground I stood on. Another rune gets smashed, filling the darkness with smoke. Before I got up, I threw two exploding runes in front of me and rolled back. The explosion was instant; the force rolled me into the legs of the two attackers behind me. I cursed at my luck and rolled to the left, narrowly avoiding a heavy thud that cracked the ground. Darkness dispelled, gathering into a source nearby. Fortunately, smoke still covered us. Coughing and groans could be heard behind me, along with some cursing. "Kill him." The voice sounded like it came from Troopes. I knew I didn''t like the guy. Crossbows weren''t practical alley-fighting weapons. I threw two more explosive runes toward them, avoiding the two attackers next to me. I grab a mana pistol and begin firing. Cracks and booms filled the alley, creating more smoke and cover. When the sound dampened, groaning took its place. "Troopes, Kingston¡­" I heard a voice yell out¡ªnot from the four men I fought. "Did you get him?" The smoke screen is pulled away toward the woman who yelled out. I fired two shots in the direction of the smoker, stealing my cover. I missed, and the smoke was thinning. Empty clicks were the response of my next shot. "Bloody pits." The mana was drained from the pistol, and I couldn''t refill it. I holstered the gun and drew the second pistol and a couple more runes. Immediately, I fired three more shots, threw the explosives, turned, and ran to the crowded street. My senses flared. I needed to stop. My feet slid across the ground until my body and head crashed into a stone wall. Pain trembled through me as I stood back up. The smoke was all but gone, and through the lingering fog, I could see the smoker ignite in flames as she walked toward me. Each step as she closed the distance was arrogant and pure. 64. Captives As Purity got closer, the stone wall at my back crept toward me. Escape over the wall was out of the question. That was what the grounder was waiting for. I couldn''t wait it out, either. Any conversation with Purity would end with me being collared and then killed once the elf got her information. The only viable option was to fight. It was a poor option, and I was terribly outclassed. I dodged a fireball only to get pushed forward by the energy of it exploding against the wall. Fire scorched at my back. The smoke was gone, and I could see Purity smiling brightly. She was in a tight black outfit that looked made of tiny scales of a draconic beast. She looked like a beautiful nightmare with her wild, thick hair, red lipstick, and fire around her hand. "You have been trouble," Purity said with her warm, powerful voice. I hardly heard her. I pull all the runes I can from my bandolier and throw them. Darkness explodes first, followed by electricity, creating a bright flash and loud boom. After the lightning came fire and ice. The explosion of the two energies sent ice shards in all directions. I failed to dodge a nasty shrapnel and took a deep cut below my eye. Before I could let out a groan, the silencing rune exploded. For a split second, heavy breathing filled the mana-less air. The quietness shattered as I charged Purity, firing my ax pistol and drawing Light''s Edge. The smoker continued to smile as she deflected all of my shots with her saber. Charging was a terrible choice. Too late. I couldn''t disengage. I fired one more shot, flipped the pistol around, and used it to block the elf''s downward cut. Purity quickly pulled her blade away and attacked again, forcing me to step back. She launched a combo of swings, slashes, and stabs. I blocked a few with my sword, ax, and body. The body blocks were less by choice and hurt a bunch. Purity stepped and slashed at my midsection. I rolled backward to avoid the blow. She took two quick steps before I could get to my feet and kicked me in the face. My head shot back, flinging blood and teeth with the motion. Another kick sent me to the ground. As my face bounced off the pavement, searing hot pain stabbed through my back. Once, twice, thrice. My vision threatened to go dark. It took all my willpower to stay awake. Though my eyes were blurred, I could see one injury on Purity. I lost badly, but I got a hit in. The jester kicked me one more time in the gut, bloodying her black boot. My involuntary slight almost broke her smile. That was until she reached for my neck and placed a collar on me, followed by a hood. "Worthless piece of shit," was the last thing I heard before a muffling script activated. For a small moment, I thought of setting off a bunch of exploding runes and ending this cycle. That seemed like a wasted life. As my body was stripped and carried away, I closed my eyes and sunk deep into meditation. In my mindscape, I replayed my entire visit to Coalville repeatedly. Runes and the pistols were my only saving grace. It sort of bothered me that I had to rely so heavily on superior firepower to survive. The fact that I lost anyway didn''t help my mood either. Purity''s sword skill, like her cultivation rank, was in a completely different realm. I fired multiple shots at her, and she cut them to pieces. I''d seen good melee fighters before. This was the first time I felt so beneath a skill level. Not even my old squad leader Kalani could keep up with Purity''s blade¡ªand he was the son of a sword master¡­ well, he couldn''t when I was with him. Who knew where the bloody bloke was now with his skills. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. I fought through several renditions of the alley brawl. Out of a hundred fights with Purity, I never managed to land a hit on her other than with my opening pistol salvo. In my scenarios, I''d deal more damage if I fired both my pistols at her simultaneously. It was never enough to be significant; more importantly, the success was all in my head. I didn''t trust the scenario would play out much like it did in reality. Still, it was good practice, and I felt like I was learning a few techniques from the expert swordswomen. During my meditation, I had moments when flashes of pain shook my mindscape. I learned to dull out the actual pain, making the flashes more of a warning than anything else. There was a bit of temptation to break my meditative state to get information on the Jesters and what they were doing to me. However, the thought of being present during a questioning session with Purity sounded like the absolute worst. I was locked in my mind, and I wasn''t leaving. When I wasn''t sparring with Purity, I drilled through my katas and did my best to implement the techniques I had picked up from my drill partner. It was a combination of footwork and sword combos that extended my foundation. My domain was tested several times as well. I primarily used the mages warring in the Bloodwoods for my test. I occasionally used the encounter with the fire sage when I met her back in the tavern. Along with my domain, I practiced all of my mana techniques, pushing them to their limits. My list of skills was growing. I had ice armor, dome, wall, shield, and fog for defense. Offensive skills included summoning and manipulating water, which included its forms as solid, liquid, and gas. I could freeze and flood. In my fog, I could nearly disappear. My awareness could connect to distant water sources. Water mended my wounds, aided my travel, and allowed me to manipulate other materials to a degree if they had enough molecules attached to them. I practiced my manipulation technique a bunch and was happy with my progress. I was a long way away from when I was trying to roast a boar with my skills. After what felt like a month of training, I decided to pay my resident parasite a visit. I blinked through the labyrinth of my mind palace into a dressed-up dungeon I left Cal in. The flayen looked much better. His flesh was still pale, but his body wasn''t as ragged, and he no longer curled up in a slump of defeat. He seemed to be meditating. I didn''t interrupt his session, sitting and meditating beside him until he woke from his trance. The delay worked to my benefit. In all my training, I''d given little thought to do with Calypso. I tried several times and came up empty, facing walls of unknowns and doubts. Being next to the mind mage has already worked to clear up the fog. I needed Calypso as an ally. He had training and information that would be beneficial to me. The flayen was my connection to the recursion. It would be best to work with him rather than against him. Above all, I needed his help protecting my memories. Cal promised he could slow the degradation process down. Perhaps together we could make further loss as minimal as possible. However, to do that, I needed to be able to trust the parasite completely. Trust was the barrier I''d been unable to find a way through. Sitting next to the flayen, I concluded that trust may be unnecessary. Perhaps there was a way to completely bind the entity to me, and if not to me, maybe an oath. I waited patiently until Calypso woke from his trance. His eyelids flickered until they slowly opened. 65. The Mind Forge "I was beginning to think you were going to ignore me," Cal said as he stood and stretched. "Two days straight of being in your mind palace¡ªsixty days of meditation. If I had to guess, you are either stuck in here because of external or internal reasons. I lean more toward the external." Cal had a half-satisfied smile that he didn''t try to hide. "You know you''re already in my mind." "It is easy to forget during the long bouts of isolation." "You''ve been in here far longer on your own." "The weight of guilt is a heavy burden." "It''s Purity again," I said, responding to his earlier guess. "I went to an entirely different city, and she still found me. Now I''m collared, and she is having her way with my body." "Disgusting." The flayen shivered and then began pacing, sliding his hand down his braided beard of tentacles. "Agreed. I don''t dare look at what mutilation has taken place. So we are locked in here until the next cycle." I watched Cal walk from wall to wall several times, absorbed in his thoughts. The room was spacious, filled with comforts like a bed, couch, desk, chair, and artwork. Calypso had done some of his own arranging. He shifted all the furniture to one-half of the room and left the other half open. It was in this open space he patrolled. "Perhaps a mark of some type? I sense nothing foreign attached to your mind, so it must be a body or spirit mark." Nothing foreign if we exclude the parasite that was devouring my memories. I kept the thought to myself. Though the irony got a little chuckle from me. The mention of a mark stood out most from Cal''s words. Had I been marked? I checked my body thoroughly, looking for any marks of any kind. There was nothing. The fact that I was inspecting my body in my mindscape made me even more confident that there was no mark on my body. Though it was customary for orcs to paint their bodies in tribal tattoos filled with powerful runes as outcasts, the ritual didn''t apply to my family. When I moved away, I felt no reason to get marking on my own. Part of it was my own rebellion. If my tribe didn''t want to accept me, I wouldn''t pretend to be a part of them. I had no markings on my body and was absolutely confident in my mental projection of myself¡ªcloned body included. I said no, even when Sasha offered to create markings for me with potent buffs. My body was mark-free. That left my spirit, and unfortunately, I didn''t have the confidence to inspect my spirit as I did my body and mind. From what I could tell, my spirit was clean. I didn''t rule out the possibility, though. The Jesters had found me twice now. Something was alerting them to my position. "Most likely a spirit mark," I said. "I can not help you there." "Figured." "So¡ª" Cal stopped pacing and turned to face me. I had to turn my head to the side because he stopped before returning to the middle of the room. "What brings you to my cell?" The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. "Two questions. First, how does the mind tracer work? I need to know when my memories are most at risk." "The tracer is most active at the beginning of each cycle. The renewed energy spins up the fragment, allowing it to cut through memories." Cal danced around the words, trying to say them as delicately as possible. "Your precautions to preserve your memories will help. Creating backups was a great idea. I am also restraining the tracer so that it loses effectiveness over time." "Until I die." "Yes." I took a deep breath. It wasn''t ideal, but I could deal with it. Copying memories would create a buffer for the tracer to chew through. As long as I had enough buffer, I could keep my remaining memories intact. Then it was only a matter of not dying¡ªa practice I was determined to get better at. "I need your help," I said as I summoned a sliver of ice and injected it with my will. "But I don''t trust you, which hinders how much you can help." "What can I do?" Calypso asked, an eager expression on his face. "Swear an oath to preserve my soul to the best of your ability. That includes my mind, body, and spirit. No more tinkering with my thoughts or memories. No more trying to take over my body or spirit. You are here to help me and me alone." As Cal began to speak, I directed the sliver of ice directly in front of his mouth. "I promise to protect and preserve your soul and only act in your best interest. I swear to serve you." The shard absorbed his words into the scripts, creating a binding contract. I nudged the sliver with a thought and directed it into Calypso''s brow before he had time to react. It sunk through his skin and settled in his mind. "Do you understand what happened?" I asked. "You captured my oath and bound it to a shard of ice." Calypso massaged his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut a few times, only to shake his head a moment later. "Then you implanted the oath in my head. If I break my oath, my lifeline will be severed, and the recursion will collapse." "You will die and your people will be wiped out by either the Shadow Plague or the Alderi Emperor. You have bound yourself to my cause. You can only guarantee the flayen''s safety by serving me." Cal nodded in agreement. Despite the dagger left in his mind, his disposition was still one of eagerness. Solitude has not been kind to him. A chance to exist outside his prison''s confines and possibly save his people outweighs the oath he was now bound to. The outcome was satisfactory. I wasn''t sure how Cal was going to take the oath or the shard I attached to him. Nor was I sure I could create the binding shard to begin with. The plans for the oath shard started with a hunch and a desire. From there, I theory crafted a design until the idea became so vivid that it was all but a reality. A heavy dose of will was added to the implementation, which brought the shard to reality. "Good," I said as Cal got used to the new bond. The shard should only bother him if he acted against his oath. "What can you teach me about reforging my mind?" "For starters, do not reforge your mind while your body is under attack." "Think of this as preparation for the next cycle." "Very well." A carnivorous grin formed as Calypso resumed beard stroking and pacing. "Open your mind once more. I am about to blow it once more." I do as Cal instructs, trusting in the newly placed oath shard to keep the flayen honest. Information about the process of reforging my mind floods into my head. I learn about theory, best practices, and examples of flayen mages that have all undergone the process. A visual of Cal''s experience is projected, which I watched several times. We ran through simulated practice attempts, and I got pointers and feedback during the procedure. I practiced it over and over until reforging my mind felt natural. Reforging the essence of the soul was an essential step in a cultivator''s journey. Through reforging, a cultivator could transition their awakened body into something more powerful. The process allowed the practitioner to break through barriers to become more powerful. I was eager to set my mind on a higher plane but wanted to ensure the process was perfect. So, I devoted myself to the process and kept practicing until I was perfect. Two months later, I felt the last of my life slip by in my mindscape. I don''t know how I died in reality; all I do know was that I was smiling in the end when death came for me. It was time to put my practice to the test. 66. The United Soul The first thing I do at the start of my new cycle is collect my impaled body. Oddly enough, Lana''s ring was already bound to my finger. It must''ve bonded to my soul when I connected to it in the last loop. I couldn''t think of any other explanation besides that. This raised the question of what would happen when Lana was no longer dead. I waited the appropriate amount of time for the fight to stop and for the Emperor to leave. After that, I grabbed Icy using water manipulation and towed my spiked corpse behind me. Seclusion and security played an essential part in the reforging process. There are three locations that I could think of that would work best. The mana-dense fields of the graveyard, the cleared-out dungeon, or the spring. I decided the peacefulness of the springs would benefit me the most. The spring offered the most tranquility, and it helped that it was an actual mana source. Although mind reforgement shouldn''t be a mana-intensive process, there would be benefits to having a pure water source. I summoned Cal as a falcon as I trekked through the forest. Cal eagerly stretched his wings and flew, zipping between trees and dodging branches. He''d soar as high as the canopy would allow him, tuck his wings, and plummet to the ground, swooping away inches from the forest floor. He practiced an assortment of aerial acrobats as he followed my quick pace. I pushed past the interlaced vines, revealing a pocket paradise full of bright flowers and crystal-clear water. Cal barreled through the closing vines. He veered up, pushed back with his wings to slow his speed, and landed on the edge in a patch of flowers. "This place will work great," the flayen said as he settled into his perch. When you are ready, let me back into your mind, and we can begin rebuilding it." I stepped into the spring and summoned an enforced barrier around us. The shell of ice was a foot thick all around and black. It had become so dense it was almost a metal. Metallic ice¡­ I liked the ring of that. Once I reached a new level of summoning, I was going to use that name. Although it weakened my structure, I left tiny holes at the top of the barrier for ventilation. Other than that, my dome was sealed off. Anything wanting to get in would have to be smaller than those nasty crawlers in the cave, and they would have to endure some intense cold as they wiggled their way down the layer of ice. If someone was strong enough to break down my barrier, I had much bigger problems. I placed Icy in his own frozen corner and sealed him up, again leaving some ventilation for him. Now that we were in close quarters, I didn''t like sharing a room with myself. It kinda creeped me out. Ventilation was added to Icy''s cocoon as the finishing touch. I was unsure if my frozen body needed air. He wasn''t exactly breathing in his cryosleep and was already covered in ice. Still, leaving the holes was no skin off my back, and it was better to play it safe. I removed my ragged clothes and plunged into the spring. The water felt so fresh I treated myself to a brief swim and cycling process. Renewing my mana was like taking the most luxurious shower that cleaned layers of filth. After doing dozens of rapid laps, I turned my body and floated. It was about time to dive into my mind and begin the process; however, one hesitation hedged my progression. I stood as soon as I was able to put my thoughts into words. "Calypso, do you think we could change the reforgement process?" "Change?" The falcon gave me his best-shocked face: an open beak, head turned, and eyes wide. Maybe he was perplexed. It was hard to tell, and I didn''t speak bird. "You practiced for months. Why change now? And why not bring it up during practice?" If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "As I was traveling to the spring, I ran through the process several times to ensure I got everything. I had a sinking feeling when I entered the spring." "Kip, you can trust me." Now, the bird really was perplexed. "At the very least, you can trust the spike I am bonded to. I felt you checking the connection several times. I am bound to serve you." "It''s not that. I only understood my hesitation when I started swimming. I wish I would''ve thought of this sooner, believe me." "So what is it?" "You''re a pure mind cultivator." "Yeah." "That''s not me." "You have some impurities," Cal said matter-of-factly. "As long as you cultivate your mind, your body cultivation will not limit your progression from here on out." "Cal¡­" "No, Kip." Cal gazed into my eyes with his intense black eyes. I could see the depth of his worry and sincerity. "You have a natural talent for mind skills unlike any other I have seen. If you had been born in my world, you would have been praised as a ruler or even a god. What you have is rare. I will not let you waste your potential. To do so would be doing you a great disservice." The falcon''s gaze was so intense I almost broke eye contact. It didn''t help that the bird refused to blink. It was unsettling. As uncomfortable as it was, I met Cal''s eyes and considered what he was saying. I could tell he believed what he was saying. A part of me agreed with him as well. If I was gifted with the mind, it made perfect sense to go all in on cultivating its essence. At the same time, that wasn''t what I wanted. My soul longed for balance, and whenever I thought of forsaking my spirit and body essence, I could almost feel an ache in my chest. An ache that was nearly drowned out by logic and reason that my mind was trying to bury my desire with. I was torn. At the end of the day, I had to choose the path I was comfortable living with. That was all it came down to. What would I be happier with? As logical as the mind path was, I couldn''t neglect my spirit and body. "I can''t do it, Cal." "Please trust me." "I need you to trust me on this one." There was a long moment of silence until the falcon''s rigid stance relaxed, and the bird finally blinked. "Very well." Cal tried his best to withhold his disappointment. "We will practice a new reforgement process together. I do not have the technique for what you desire, but I am confident that we can forge the path best suited for you between my knowledge and your talents." "Thank you." Cal opened his beak as if to speak, paused, and settled for a nod, which was more like a bow with how long he held his head on the dip. I returned the bow and unsummoned the falcon, bringing Cal back into my mind. I could feel his presence return like a light blanket draping over my mind. It almost felt comfortable, which made me feel uncomfortable. I shook the feeling and did my best to relax in the enclosed spring. Once again, I floated atop the calm water and fell into a tranquil state of being. All I had to do was close my eyes, and I was in my mindscape. Cal was waiting, dressed in a fancy robe with his arms tucked behind his back. "Review the reforging process with me," Cal said. "I will explain what is needed and what is essential. The rest we can figure out together." I stepped up to my bonded companion and looked at the raised table he summoned before us. "The process will be flawed. You could be doing great harm to your potential. And I am not just talking about wasting your talents." Cal quickly added. "We are setting up a foundation for your future, and instead of going with what I know, we will be using an unknown process. All the uncertainty I felt before was gone. Now that I''d chosen the path I desired, I was confident we would forge the perfect mind. Even my mind was starting to agree, which made me excited to get started. 67. The Mind Forge Following the roadmap created by Cal and me, I sat in a pure white room in a deep recess of my mindscape. The vast space of the room was comforting. I existed alone here. This was my realm. As I fell into a trance, I opened my spirit and body, allowing water mana to cycle through me. When I reached a natural rhythm, I shifted my attention to my mind. The first step of the process was to collect my mind. Thankfully, that had already been accomplished when I set up my mental barriers. With a thought, I summoned the dome encapsulating my mind. The dome was at least thirty feet tall and wide and covered in a dense layer of black ice. I knew inside that dome was a vast ocean that surrounded more protective domes and barriers. Inside the core of my protection was a heavily guarded fortification. I had a defensive palace inside the walls, and deep in the palace were the pillars of my mind. I examined my protective shell with a hint of satisfaction. It was an excellent start to keeping my mind safe. However, it was time to tear my defenses apart. Like a god, I focused on the world I created and dismantled it layer by layer. The thick walls put up some resistance, initially refusing to yield to my tug with mana. It took an exerted will in order to bring the wall down. After which, raging water that was ice cold filled the space I was in. Fortunately, the room was limitless, and the water washed away. After the initial layer, the process became a battle of will and mana. It brought me comfort knowing that even though I created the barriers, they resisted my call to break. The dense ice had one purpose¡ªdefend. Each layer took more will and mana to break down. Water flooded and dispersed. It took nearly five days to break through my defenses until I reached my fortification. I prepared to battle my guards. Instead, I was met with bows and fists held to the chest. I returned the honored salute to the thousands of warriors as I walked down the halls, collapsing the world behind me. If my soldiers cared that their service was coming to an end, they didn¡¯t show it. Most looked eager for the future, as if they believed in what I was doing entirely. Did they know what I was doing? For a second, I considered giving a speech. The terrible idea faded fast, and my pace quickened. The vaults were the last to fall. Standing in the secure room, I gathered the pillars of my mind and the copies of my memories into an orb of water I held in my palm. The walls crashed down like glass and rushed away as it turned to water. I stood alone in a pure white room with the entirety of my mind held in my hand. Memories. Beliefs. Personality. Preferences. All of which was woven together with threads of mind pathways¡ªa balanced mixture of wisdom, knowledge, and survival. There was so much to the orb that I held, my hand shouldn¡¯t be able to bear the weight of it at all, and yet there it was in my hand, so exposed and vulnerable. I placed the delicate mind on a raised ice platform, took a deep breath, and started pulling out the threads. With each tug, my mind unraveled, losing its cohesive bond. As pillars of my mind fell off, I collected them into a new orb of water. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Days passed as I pulled through the thread, and the pool of my mind grew larger with each drip. At the end of the week, I had wholly separated my pillars from the threads. The water orb was about the same size as me, and inside of it was an ocean of my being. To the side of the orb was a massive pile of thread. I would need to purify both of them before I could reforge them. I summoned a furnace with a thought, turned the heat to an unrealistic level, and tossed the thread inside. The impurities would burn off, and the threads would begin to change. To purify the pillars of my mind, I needed to sort through all of them and remove what I felt hindered my progression. The removal of impurities is where I practiced the most in my trial runs. It required taking an introspective look and judging what should stay and what should be removed. This was the most intense part of the entire process and the most time-consuming. I was sculpting who I wanted to be. Cal shared a bunch of theories about reshaping pillars. Most scholars agreed memories should remain untouched unless gruesome memories limited a cultivator¡¯s progression. Everything else was heavily debated. A popular theory was that cultivators should pursue perfection at all costs. Remove anything that limited growth or was a setback. Others believed the forger should stay as true to self as possible¡ªreforging was meant to refine rather than remove. In my initial test runs, I simulated both. I cut out all of my imperfections, turning myself into a complete ass, and I refined all of my flaws which led to being half an ass but still an ass. Both results were unsatisfactory. After trial and error, I discovered I was already perfect¡ªa very asinine thought. However, the more I thought about it, the less I felt like an a-hole. Sure, I had my faults. My charisma was a two at best, I was inconsistently stubborn and prone to quit, and I relied on others for strength. Even as I struggled through the recursions, my motivation was to save my friends¡ªarguments could be made between loyalty and dependency, but in my case, it was a healthy dose of both. I lacked confidence, liked to procrastinate, hated sticking to plans, and had a host of fears. My faults were a part of me; removing them so quickly would discredit my character and prohibit natural growth. More than creating opportunity¡ªwho¡¯s to say what was perfect¡ªespecially when it came to individual introspection? Should I judge myself based on another¡¯s perception? Am I supposed to accept what some declare was better simply because they declared so? The idea rattled my nerves. To Sog¡¯s moldy pits with the imposed standards. I considered myself perfect because I was being who I chose to be. My strengths and weaknesses were my choice. I had forged myself through years of challenges, hardships, and success. With my own hands, I shaped my character. I was the master, and I¡¯d be damned if I let myself think any less of who I was. So, instead of removing weaknesses and blemishes, I focused on my desires. Just because I was perfect now didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t be more perfect. I would become the best version of myself. To do that, I needed to accept who I was, know who I wanted to be, and prepare to become my ideals. One by one, I examined my wants and desires, checking them against my purpose¡ªthe one thing I desired most. I was going to conquer death for myself and my friends. 68. One Purpose Conquering death. The purpose was more arrogant than my self-assessment. It was the type of goal that would take lifetimes to work on. A purpose so far out of my reach I would have to devote myself entirely to it. Was it possible? In a way, yes. I was getting closer to saving my friends. I just needed to keep working hard and not waste any cycle. Did it motivate me? Absolutely. It might be selfish, but I''d spent enough time living alone and missed Lana. I also knew she hated death as much as I did. She felt like death haunted her, nipping at her heels and robbing her of life. She accepted it as part of life but was eager to find a way to find some security in life¡ªa guarantee that one day, all things wouldn''t come to an end, a rope out of the great abyss. I didn''t feel like death haunted me, though it claimed just about everyone I cared about. Death was a callous and uncaring fate. A fate I was terrified to reach. My grand scheme was perfect. Now, it was a matter of aligning all of my desires to this one end. If a desire didn''t push me toward my one purpose, it was tailored to help me reach my goal or cut entirely. Fortunately, there weren''t many desires that needed to be cut outright. I was already committed to my cause, and my secondary goals, like running a map shop, had been pushed to the side. The map shop, in particular, was hard to let go of, and I knew a part of me was lost with it. The shop represented a lackadaisical life that I loved. However, with what I learned about the future, there wouldn''t be much of an easy life ahead. Once I saved my friends, we would have assassins to fight, a Shadow Plague, an invasion, and the devourers to face. Conquering death would be a long, endless battle. In my empty realm, I forged my mind into a new essence that would push me through the challenges I would face. Along with attuning my desires, I adapted the essence of my mind to synergize with the essence of body and spirit. The key was balance. I was already convinced the concept was important. It was just a matter of solidifying the idea. It also helped that I believed balance would help me the most in my primary goal. I spent seven days purifying my mind. I carefully molded my desires and crafted my thoughts. My pillars floated in the orb of water, shining brilliantly together. The golden pillars were tightly aligned, even without threads tying them together. I smiled, knowing I was on the right path. If I had the threads right, I would have a golden mind. According to Calypso, there were three ranks to reforging minds: bronze, silver, and gold. The ranks which a cultivator obtained depended on prior cultivation, talent, technique, and harmony. A pure mind cultivator would have a much easier time obtaining a golden mind. I believed talent and harmony carried me through the process, helping me get the results I had so far. I stayed true to myself and only amplified my desires. I was also depending on talent and harmony to carry me through the next portion of the process. I turned to the furnace, burning the threads that used to weave my pillars together. The fire was orange, burning hotter than anything I''d experienced before. Fueling the fire was the molten remains of my mind pathways. It was a bit odd conceptualizing the pathways like this, years of meditation, studying, growing, and applying knowledge were burning away inside a fire I created with thought. I tried not to think about it too deeply, fearful that I might break focus. Instead, I fed the fire with more will, amplifying the flames. As I gazed into the flame, I could feel it hungering for more. I dumped every shred of will I had into the furnace. The flame turned yellow, radiating heat that filled the metaphysical realm. It hungered for more. I had no more will to feed it, so I dumped all of my desires. The furnace crackled and popped. A heavy smoke puffed into the air, forming an ominous cloud swept away by a developing breeze. Yellow flames burned through my dreams, adding them to the molten mix of my pathways and will. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. The heat was nearly unbearable, but I could not pry myself to look away. I was fascinated with the furnace. I could feel so much of myself inside the fire and instinctively knew that what I saw was not enough. The flame was not hot enough, and my reforging attempt would''ve been incomplete if I had stopped now. However, all that I had left were my pillars. The golden orbs that represented the pillars of my mind had already been stripped of the purpose I used to bind them together. Still, they remained tightly connected. I''d already strayed from the path of reforging that I''d practiced before. After purifying my pillars and threads, all that was left was forging them back together. I studied the furnace before me, hoping to gain a semblance of understanding. The purifying was complete. So why did it feel like the fire still wanted more? I had nothing else to give except my pillars¡ªthe very foundations of my mind. Instinctively, I backed away from the furnace. The thought scared me to no end. I couldn''t just throw my memories, beliefs, character, and preferences into the fire. They would be burned away. I''d already established that I was happy with who I was. I couldn''t afford to risk my identity. If I lost myself, what would be the point? A powerful force pushed me from behind. It constantly nipped at my back, urging me closer to the furnace. I resisted at first and then gave in. One step at a time, I felt the pull of the fire. Sweat dripped from every inch of my body. The furnace called to me, begging me for more. It needed more fuel. It desired more. More. More. More, the fire called. Pulling. Urging. Pleading. I couldn''t resist. I didn''t want to resist but was scared of the consequences of giving in. I''d done enough¡­ hadn''t I? The process was over. What if there''s more. A cold chill ran through my body. You could be more. Give me more. Not knowing what else to do, I let the furnace pull at my being. Layers of metaphysical flesh were fed to the fire, stripping me of the body I inhabited. At first, the lack of response to the flame led me to believe I was burning nothing. Several minutes passed, and I no longer dwelled in a body¡ªexisting as only a thought. The fire roared and turned into a white flame. More. I feared the desire stemming from the furnace. I knew it wasn''t satiated even as I watched the flame transform. Now that so much of myself was invested in the process, it was clear what was needed. More than fearing the flame, I feared being inadequate. What if I wasn''t enough for the task I''d set out on? I had the opportunity, but that didn''t mean I had the capability. What if I became a conqueror of stars and still couldn''t save my friends? Would I look back at this day full of regret? I needed to trust myself. More. I let go of my doubts and fears and fed my memories, beliefs, personality, and preferences into the furnace. The golden pillars basked in the molten bath as white flames danced. To my dismay, the pillars didn''t melt. The fire grew hotter and hotter until it burst into blue-violet flame. The molten liquid boiled and churned. Smoke that filled the space before was gone. A strong wind pushed at my consciousness. Steam filled the furnace and attached it to my pillars. As they were drawn to the golden orbs, they were absorbed. Little by little, the molten pool evaporated and condensed into my pillars. As the process drew on, my golden pillars changed. They turned platinum. I watched in shock, filled with excitement. Gold was the highest rank in the reforging process. A golden mind was perfect. Staring at the platinum pillars, I knew my mind had transcended into a higher realm of being. I reached a rank higher than gold. More. The demand for more did not come as a shock. My platinum mind was missing one last piece. No longer scared, I stopped resisting the storm behind me and let my consciousness get pulled into the furnace. 69. One Mind I woke up on a bed of dust and rock. The dirt was so dry that the most minor stir kicked up puffs of dust. I laid on my back, regaining my breath. I don''t know how long I spent reforging my mind. Based on the painful numbness rooted in my muscles, it must''ve been a few days¡­ possibly a week. Despite my body feeling like dead weight, my mind was alive and burning with thoughts¡ªmost of which were reflective of the end process when I fed everything into the forge. Inside the purple flames, existence became a constant battle. My pillars, desires, and very existence were challenged. I was forced to coat everything with my will. At the same time, the fires burned around me¡ªthe natural consequences of throwing myself into a furnace, even a metaphysical one. As the fire burned deep, I held on tight and endured. My pathways, desires, mind, and being became one in the forge. When the fire finally cooled, I had a platinum mind essence. My reforging process was successful, and I''d reached a rank higher than perfection. I had a reforged platinum mind. What did that even mean? I stood up, kicking up a storm of dust with me. More dust got kicked up as I took a couple balance steps. It took ten heartbeats for me to steady. Even then, I had to stand still. As I got acquainted with my body, my mind scanned my soul, ensuring my spirit and body essences hadn''t been damaged. Though sluggish, the remainder of my soul was good, and my mind was incredible. That left Cal¡­ Before the thought of summoning Cal finished forming, a black falcon of black condensed ice and mana scripts appeared. Every detail of the bird looked real, from the feathers to its eyes. Calypso landed on the ground and, in a flash of water vapor, shifted into his flayen body. While reforging, I had to face my doubts and fears. Calypso was a real threat to my existence; however, during the grueling cycle, I learned that the entity was only loyal to me. Perhaps I broke him through solitary confinement; it could be he respected my mind, or possibly he believed I was his best chance at survival. Whatever his reason was, I knew, without a doubt, that Cal was an asset. Our heightened trust and the amplified power of my mind had given him access to more control and power. "Hey, Cal," I said to the flayen, meeting him face to face. The flayen looked at his hands in disbelief as he stretched his fingers. His beard of tentacles had a tight braid. Instead of pale, nearly-blue flesh, his skin had a healthier light blue appearance. It was like the difference between a vibrant sky and a wilted flower. Cal cracked his knuckles, stretched his limbs, and laughed. He ran a hand through his short blonde mohawk¡ªa hairstyle I hadn''t noticed on the flayen before¡ªthen proceeded to stroke his beard. The small act brought him great joy and increased his laughter. I smiled, letting my summon enjoy his moment. "A platinum mind," Cal said. "Brilliant." He smiled and laughed. "Thanks. What does it mean?" "I have no idea. But it is better than gold." "Figured." "This is uncharted territory as far as I am concerned. Do you feel smarter?" I hesitated before answering Cal''s question. Did I feel smarter? What would that even mean or feel like? Unlike when my mind was boosted three levels in the knowledge pathways by the flayen, I wasn''t granted a library of knowledge. Information didn''t bleed out of memories, and I didn''t feel like I had an enhanced capability to apply the knowledge in a new way. Nor did I feel more creative. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. On the other hand, my processing was sharper. Time barely crawled outside my thoughts, almost like I was in my mindscape. The world appeared more vibrant as well. I could see the limitations of the bodies Cal, and I possessed. Beyond the facade of flesh were layers of ice, mana, and scripts created a realistic illusion of our bodies. Millions of crystals interlaced together created the barrier around me. The barrier had lost most of its thickness, and I could see drops forming at the top. Eagerly, the dry ground waited for the drip as if it needed a drink. Icey also had been stripped of most of his shell. This wasn''t good. I covered my body in a new protective shell with a thought and a guiding hand. "No," I answered Cal''s question. "But I do feel different." "Sweet," Cal said with a fist bump. The response of the flayen was unusual¡­ for him. Before I could question it, he covered his tracks. "We need to perform tests immediately." Cal''s body dissipated as I nodded in agreement, and he returned to my mind. His presence felt a lot less invasive. Still, I couldn''t allow myself to trust him completely. A part of me wanted to believe that we were now partners, that maybe we could be friends. The logical side of me was terrified of the idea. It would be unsafe to completely trust him. I summoned an ice chair and reinforced the barrier. As I got into a comfortable position, a boom shook my shell. A vibration of sound rattled inside my dome. More loud bangs struck my barrier, adding to the reverberations. I summoned my black armor and pushed out with my domain. Snowpiercer was in my hand, and a long sword was attached to my back. My domain covered my barrier first. More ice and will was added to the protective barrier. The attacks were increasing in intensity. At first, they were scattered around the dome. Now, they focused on one spot, hammering it repeatedly. I pushed my domain out further. Past my barrier, I couldn''t sense moisture. The air, wildlife, and ground felt very dry¡ªlike they''d been drained of all water and left to wilt, much like the dirt inside my shell. My domain hit a wall of energy and came to a complete stop. I pushed out further, exerting my will. The force that pushed back was blunt as a boulder and just as stubborn. I could tell that the technique used to impede my domain was lacking. However, the skill gap was shored up by a mountain of power. The mountain advanced. The banging on my shell became a constant boom. My domain was pushed back, creeping back into my shell. The barrier helped my mana control, and my domain was no longer suppressed. I held my domain and shell intact as I weathered the storm of attacks. Fortunately, my domain-enforced shell could take these blunt attacks. Unfortunately, the blunt attacks came to a stop. It no longer sounded like I was being hammered by a boulder. It sounded like a boulder was driving a nail through my barrier. It wasn''t a nail. It was a wedge. A massive wedge of hardened earth. My barrier broke after a five-foot-wide blade penetrated the barrier. Ice fell in chunks, and earth mana crashed down on me like a landslide. My domain was restricted by another five feet. I pushed back, keeping my power from being restricted any further. The weight of a mountain pushed down on me as dust and ice settled. Bright rays of a retiring sun caused me to turn my head. Dead redwoods and withered life filled my vision. I looked all around, finding the same image. The vibrant forest had been stripped of all water. I looked at my hands as if they were to blame. As I looked up, I saw a muscular orc covered in earth armor standing before me. He was tuskless and had a clean gray beard. A massive war hammer rested on his shoulders, looking like it weighed nothing. His old eyes were filled with accusations. "Why?" The grounder asked, his highlander accent still thick. He shook his head and spit to the side. The dirt absorbed the liquid before it hit the ground. Stone-covered hands gripped the war hammer tighter. In a blur of motion, the hammer raced toward my head. I swallowed my response as I was forced to dodge the grounder''s attack. 70. Death by a Thousand Cults I watched a stone ax turn end over end toward my chest. The earthen work of the ax didn''t get lost in its hurling motion. It was almost like the ax was spinning in its own realm, frozen in time. The problem was the ax wasn''t frozen. It was moving incredibly fast. I processed the attack clearly but lacked the speed to completely dodge it. The stone ax collided with my elbow, shattering stone and ice. Instead of losing my arm, it felt like I was punched by a boulder, and a chunk of my armor broke off. I completed my spin, ending my dodging motion. The highlander pulled at the ground beneath me. Rock and stone reached for my ankles. A heavy aura of water mana restricted the ground from catching me. As I suppressed the ground attack, I threw out waves of ice spears created from the nether. I sent a dozen spears head-on while aiming a few at the grounder''s back. The tuskless orc blocks my ice attack with rock shields. He slammed his foot on the ground, creating a quake. I bent my legs, letting them absorb the shaking motion and tighten my stomach. Hundreds of bloodwood spears are crafted in seconds and thrown at me in every direction. The grounder is trying to get me to hide behind a shell. I do just that. I couldn''t dodge the spears even with my increased perception speed. As my barrier was barraged, I pulled two rune stones from Lana''s ring. I fill them with my cyan mana and break them. Dark energy filled my shell, seeping out of my impenetrable shell in a way only mana could. The silencing power, once out of my cover of shields, covered the immediate space around us. The assault on my shell stopped. I shattered my orb of protection, creating shards of ice that I commanded to attack. The grounder, silenced by my runes, grabbed the kite shield and ax on his back. Holding the shield tight to his body, he chopped down with his ax, cutting through the ice firing at his front. An aggressive extension of his shield arm dispersed the shard aimed at his back. Selene''s moldy breath. The grounder had no mana, and yet he battered aside my attack as if he did. Was it luck? Probably not. I connected to more ice shards, keeping them tethered, and attacked again. One hundred ice shards connected to my will assaulted the grounder. His simple chopping and moving of his shield blocked the first dozen waves. I directed and timed the tethered assault more precisely with the successive waves, scoring hits. The grounder grimaced from the pain. He renewed his effort and swung his ax and shield faster. Shards struck him from every direction, over fifty attacks a second. The onslaught of razor-sharp ice buzzed in the air and created a formation of constant attacks around the highlander. While the grounder was busy fighting my ice storm, I filled the surrounding area with a thick fog. The dry forest drank my mana from the air, causing me to invest more energy into the mist. The demand for the forest proved too heavy. I dismissed the fog, choosing to freeze the ground instead. A platform of ice lifted me into the air. I fired arrows from my new vantage, adding to the bombardment. Several heartbeats passed. I thought I was weakening the sage. A pleasant melody whistling from the center of attacks destroyed that notion. The earth sage was covered in an aura of energy. It was raw, potent, and sharp¡ªnothing like the earth energy the sage was bound to. My barrage of attacks hammered away. Slowly, the orb of energy grew. My attacks were hitting less. I changed my position several times, attacking high and low. I fired arrows and mana pistols and unloaded dozens of runes onto the sage. Some of the energy pushed the rugged orc back but never knocked him down. The sage''s speed and skill with ax and shield surpassed mine and might even be better than Purity. I couldn''t engage him physically, so I kept my distance and struck with all my ranged power. Ice bit at the legs of the sage. I tried to slow him down, hoping I could freeze him in place. Somehow, he resisted even the force of my domain, though it appeared to phase him. At the least, it stopped his humming. The longer I assaulted the sage, the clearer it became that I was no match for the man. Still, I let it rain down. If I could wear him down a little, maybe we could talk. I just needed to push harder. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. My attacks doubled. I summoned blades of ice and added them to my tether. With a brilliant focus, I orchestrated wave after wave of barrages. My blades were lost in the intense speed of motion. A loud whirring noise sang loud and clear. I summoned Cal in his falcon form. He took to the air and added his mind assault to the mix. There was shouting and a lot of cursing. The orb around the sage condensed, looking like it was about to crack. It tightened to a ball, barely large enough to cover the sage. An audible crack silenced the forest. For a breath, the warring world became still. Energy repulsed from the sage. A wave of an unseen force sped toward me and knocked me from my stand. I flew back, receiving hundreds of cuts into my armor. The ground caught my crashing body in a hard embrace, not letting me roll any, if at all. I groaned in pain for a second, opened my eyes, and rolled to my feet. Blood pooled from where I had laid. As dense as my armor was, it couldn''t stop whatever attack the sage threw at me. I had a deep gash on my side. I repaired my armor and let my mana heal my wound. The deep cut should be healed in five minutes¡­ if I can last that much longer. The sage was hunched over and breathing hard. I needed to weaken him some more. My mind was still sharp, and my body had much more stamina in the tank. After all, I''d mostly been shooting arrows and directing attacks. My spirit, however, felt the strain of pushing my channels and core to their limits. Just a little bit more. I summoned Cal, two hundred shards of ice, and grabbed five explosive runes. Cal attacked first, followed by five explosions. Before the smoke cleared and the echoes died, my ice storm hounded the sage again. As I got closer, my domain hardened around the orc, and the intensity of my storm increased by fifty percent. Blood covered the sage. He looked exhausted but managed to swing his ax, deflecting a quarter of my blows. At the same time, his shield blocked another seventy percent. It was a masterful display of ax and shield. He breathed heavily, and the ferocity of his attacks had lost some intensity. I stepped closer, staying out of his range but increasing the density of my domain. My storm grew more violent. Any moment now. The whirling blades sang louder. Out of the depths of defeat, a whistled tune to a popular miner''s shanty accompanied my singing blades. The song was all wrong. I braced for another attack of energy. Instead of getting slashed by hundreds of blades, I was cut down by five. Luckily, my right arm took two of the blows. My stomach and chest were also cut open, and I could see the bone in my left leg. I stumbled, nearly falling. Ice covered my nub and formed into an ax hand. I sealed off the torso and thigh wounds as best as I could. I wouldn''t be able to heal these during the fight. "Who are you?" I asked as I limped toward the highlander, who looked fresh for fighting despite all the cuts and blood on him. His clothes were shreds, barely covering him at all. He took a deep breath and eyed me with a counted measure. "I''m Tom, and this is my forest you¡¯ve drained." He looked around and spat. "Thanks to ya, this land won''t recover for a hundred years. And don''t think I don''t know ''bout what ya did down yonder. You''ll pay for that as well." "I''m sorry, Tom," I said between gasps of breath. It hurt to talk. "I promise the forest will heal faster than that, though." "Ya can''t just dowse ''em. It doesn''t work like that." "Give me a moment. I''ll explain." "Nah." Tom spat again. This time into his hand, which he rubbed with his other hand, and grabbed the ax resting at his side. "Think I''ll just kill ya. You can explain in your next life." Tom motioned forward. I backed up, holding my ax nub up in defense. The sage looked at my black ax with a hint of respect but pushed forward. "Alright." I lowered my ax and accepted defeat. "I''ll explain in my next life. But how should I find you?" Tom paused, crooking his head. He searched me with great curiosity, came to a conclusion, and shook his head. "In the dirt," Tom said with satisfaction. He swung his ax, though he was still five arm lengths away. The last thing I saw before my world went dark was a silver crested moon tattooed on Tom''s chest just above his heart. The motion of his ax swing moved his tattered clothes just enough for me to get a glimpse. Death by another cultist¡ªa Silver cultist at that. Now I really wanted to find Tom.
I woke up to the sound of feet trampling through the forest. A mana-enriched breeze stirred the forest. Wild energy to the north had been unveiled. The rustling noises rapidly moved away from me toward the chaotic energy. My heart beat wildly. I glanced at my hand. It was missing a ring. "Lana," I whispered. Then launched towards my friends. 71. Get Hurt Trees groaned as I used them as anchors, propelling myself forward at a fast pace. The forest whipped past my vision. Never had I ice-slung myself so fast before. My hands were sweaty, my breathing heavy, and my heart pounded. Eight miles left. This was it. I returned back to a time when my friends were still alive. Lana was still alive. Five miles left. The forest grove where mages battled was nearing, and I had yet to reach my friends. I kept applying water to my feet as the thin layer evaporated with each pull. To increase my speed and reduce the friction, I covered the ground with ice. My speed increased by fifty percent. All of my strength and will went into each pull. Two miles left. I could still make it. Just needed to go faster. I pulled and pulled, shooting across ice fields like an arrow. My mind was single to the task. "Lana," I shouted, convinced I was close enough for them to hear. However, the nearing battle had picked up, and my shouts were lost in the clamor. That didn''t stop me. "Lana! Flint! Rocky!" Less than a mile was left. My heart raced with excitement. I covered myself in my domain in anticipation. By the time I got to the clearing, I was only a hundred yards away. I yelled into the storm for all the good it would do. I was too late. My friends had already stepped into the battlefield. I was too far away to save them. Not that I could save them from the might of mages. I skidded to a stop when I reached the clearing. My feet plowed through the forest floor, and I had to anchor myself to a tree so I wouldn''t slide too far out. Lana was shouting at the mages, and Flint fired from mana pistols. A great light blinded me, causing me to look away. When the flash simmered, Rocky had fallen. Lana shot rays of sharp light into the mages. Her light shield withstood several blows. Flint had dropped his pistols, replacing them with axes, and enhanced his strength with an earthen suit. The mages wrapped up in their own battle had barely paid attention to Lana and Flint. My friends attacked with everything they had. A fire mage that got too close to my staked body got blasted by a spear. The smoker looked at Lana with awe before summoning Soggy''s cursed breath, enshrouding Lana''s barrier in an orange blaze. Lana fired more light spears, drew her sword, and charged the smoking while her barrier disintegrated. The fire mage fought back with a flaming whip that they cracked at Lana''s protection. Flint turned his attention from his fight with one of the Emperor''s mages and added protection for Lana. The smoker backed away as Lana got near. If I wasn''t watching the fight play out in front of me, I''d never believed my friends, not much higher rank than me, could push back a mage. The two templars were not just pushing the fire mage back; they were dealing damage. Lana gained enough ground that she was standing next to my body. Lost in a blur of rapid motion was a kiss. In the middle of the battle, the Elven princess took a split second to kiss her hand, which she then placed on my brow. She muttered a few words and resumed fighting. The sentimental moment pulled on my pounding heart. As sweet as it was, it was a terrible strategy. Lana paid for her mistake as the smoker and a dowser joined forces. Lana lifted her sword, intercepting a burning ice spear. Her parry was perfect, but the mana-fueled attack of the two mages exploded on contact, blasting her and Flint away. Lana crashed to the ground, her barrier of light breaking on impact. Flint was hit with a slew of ice bolts while still airborne. His frozen body shattered when he hit the ground. Lana tried to heal Flint, not caring for her own safety. The orange flame consumed her a second later. As she burned, she shot one more spear; this one was golden, and it struck my corpse''s brow where she''d left her kiss. The spear evaporated, seeping into my body. I took a deep breath as I watched my friends die. I never saw so much of the battle before. I assumed my friends died as soon as they got to the battlefield. I didn''t know they put up a fight. Let alone that Lana said goodbye to me in her last moments of life. It was terrible decision-making and entirely out of character for them. Lana and Flint were reason and logic reincarnated as people. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Although my friends were dead, the battle of the mages was just getting started. Domains crashed upon me. I summoned my ice aura to protect myself from collapsing under the intense power. My head dropped, and my breathing grew ragged. Why would they waste their lives like that? As much as the question weighed on my mind, it didn''t matter. I could save them. I just needed to be faster. No second could be spared, and I needed to master my techniques. I was going to save them. Did I have to be faster, though? I had Cal and he was much quicker than me. A wave of excitement washed over me. There was an easy solution. I could start over now and save my friends. The war in the forest clearing had been silenced by my thoughts. A plan solidified, and I was eager to execute it. Wrapped up in thought and bolstered by confidence, I walked toward the mages¡ªonly to stop myself moments later. It made no sense to waste this life, and I could execute the plan as many times as I wanted in my mindscape. I took five steps back, reaching the edge of the forest. "See you soon," I said to my friends as I turned and walked away, seeking the safety of a dungeon. We cleared out the dungeon in record time. The crawlers were the first to die, all freezing within my domain. Lipper was next. I overpowered her domain with my mana and shot her with two arrows. My ice razor technique shredded the wolfbears and the jungle, and the Rat King and his host of rats were still frozen solid in their cave. I filled it full of water without stepping into the infested hole and froze it from the outside. Satisfied with my efforts, I cleaned out a swampy jungle area, turning it into a pleasant pond, barricading myself, and entered my mindscape. Vibrant energy filled my mindscape. Everything in my realm felt so alive and rich¡­ and connected to me. Power rushed through my veins, intoxicating me with its possibilities. I felt like a god before I reforged my mind. Now, I was on an entirely different level. The fortresses I built before to protect my mind could be built in a second. I could tear down the same structure in two seconds. What I once thought was a perfect defense seemed weak and impractical, though the guards and water barrier were a great idea. I could do better, but that wasn''t my focus for now. To be safe, I restored my prior protections and enhanced them. I would improve my mind palace another time. I called Calypso, who was flying nearby, observing my mindscape. "You are a beautiful specimen," Cal said, his eyes darting around the space. There was nothing to look at. We were deep in my palace in another white room. "Your energy is so potent here. It is really a shame I am such a terrible parasite. I could have had this all to myself if I had been stronger." "If you completely possessed me, you wouldn''t have this rich environment." "I knew it was smart to let you live." Cal cracked a smile. "It''s time for some experimenting," I said with a dry and mirthless smile. The empty space became a forest in a flash of energy, and every detail from my memory was recreated. For the first round, we worked on the timing and distance we were dealing with. My friends had almost a two-mile head start. The fact that I could hear them was due to my reforged mind and expanded aura. It was roughly ten miles to the clearing and took me nearly twenty-five minutes to reach it. The speed was equal to what a high-ranked templar focused on body progression could run. Even with my friends¡¯ head start, I should be able to catch them. They were mid-ranked templars and had no speed-focused skills. I wouldn¡¯t call any of them fast. Especially Flint, who closely resembled a bear in pre-hibernation form. Rocky didn''t have much of a speed build, either. With our control set, we began trial runs of Falcon Flight. From the start, it became clear I was wrong about my squad. They were fast. Cal was twice as fast as me and didn¡¯t catch them his first handful of attempts. One of them had speed skills. My guess was Lana. On his thirtieth attempt, Cal caught up to them at the edge of the clearing. Unfortunately, my friends didn''t want to listen to a bird or flayen¡ªchoosing to ignore or kill him, depending on how Cal tried to stop them. We tried hundreds of times, using every variation of Falcon Flight we could think of. Lana, Rocky, and Flint were headstrong in their pursuit and wouldn''t be stopped. Not even an amplified mind blast worked. They shrugged off the attack as if it didn¡¯t phase them. Although it pained me, I accepted that my simple solution wouldn''t work. Falcon Flight was a bust. I didn¡¯t dwell on the failure. Rather, the failure encouraged me. I was one path closer to finding the right solution. 72. Get Close The good news was that I improved my time from the start by using an ice field with anchor skating. Five minutes dropped from my time. The bad news was, I still wasn¡¯t fast enough. My friends were already engaged in battle. On the plus side, I got to see Rocky alive. That didn¡¯t last long, though. A light flashed, and he vanished into the ether. On my fiftieth attempt, I reduced the resistance of my shoes by replacing the flat bottom with a sharp edge. I realized that my feet were no longer contributing to my speed, as it was the strength of my anchor pull that I relied on. With that understanding in mind, I found that my feet created too much friction. It took several days in my mindscape to get used to the new bladed shoes. Another five minutes dropped from my time. Each minute shaved off my time and allowed me to watch more of the battle. I had no idea my friends fought for so long. My experience had been that they died quickly upon entering the field. The scenarios told a much different story. But how? How could they survive for so long? They were just templars, after all. More questions for later. Three months passed in my realm; it was only thirty days outside. Every fifteen days, I¡¯d take a break from my mindscape to care for myself and ensure I didn¡¯t repeat my mistakes in my last life. The last thing I wanted was for an angry druid to attack me while I was running scenarios. I honed my techniques over thousands of trials, improving my anchoring, sliding, and navigating through the forest. As I raced through the woods, trees were dodged at the last second so I could use them as a windblock. Double anchors propelled me forward, and the blades on my feet were long and thin. I took a deep breath as I stepped out of the clearing. This was the first time I completed the race at my new speed. Another four minutes shaved off my time. I was still three minutes too slow. Lana, Rocky, and Flint fought side by side, their strength bolstered by two light barriers. Dark mana had been released on the battlefield, creating a war between the opposing energy. My squad was in the thick of the battle, fighting for their lives. It seemed that the empire and flayens were targeting them. The fact that my friends could endure the struggle for so long greatly impressed me and stirred up more questions. This last race was as fast as I could go. Only three minutes stood between my friends and me. It might as well be a lifetime. It wouldn¡¯t matter how many times I simulated the process or changed my techniques. Any improvement I did in my mindscape would only shave off seconds. I needed to find another path. ¡°I¡¯ve reached my limit,¡± I said to Cal. The flayen had returned from doing flight experiments. He had a rather mirthful look on his face. The smile was expected. It was no secret that Cal loved to fly¡ªthe flayen and bird had become one. He¡¯d often whisper his name to himself when he thought I couldn¡¯t hear: ¡®Calypso Beaks of Thunder.¡¯ However, this smile was more than the thrill of flight. The smile was a satisfied grin. It was smug. The Beaks of Thunder discovered something, and he was proud of it. ¡°I had a breakthrough.¡± Cal shifted into his flayen form and padded me on the shoulder. ¡°Watch this.¡± Cal scooped up a fallen leaf, held it high, and dropped it. The leaf fell towards me, and I had to turn sideways to not block its fall. It hit the ground a second later, two feet behind me. ¡°There¡¯s a slight breeze,¡± I said. ¡°Slight breeze?¡± Cal acted offended. ¡°You are fighting a headwind.¡± ¡°You¡¯re being dramatic. The leaf barely moved. Besides, I¡¯m already using trees as cover.¡± ¡°We need to change your angle of approach.¡± ¡°I¡¯m trying to go as straight as possible.¡± ¡°That is your problem.¡± Calypso¡¯s smile widened. ¡°Going straight creates too much resistance. You need to take this at an angle.¡± ¡°I¡¯m already two miles behind. Increasing the distance I have to travel isn¡¯t the solution.¡± ¡°But it is,¡± Cal said, excitement in his voice. ¡°It is. I have run this simulation nearly as many times as you. Like you, I thought I reached the point where I couldn¡¯t get faster. I thought it was a matter of skill, so I did the same thing repeatedly, hoping to get faster. My technique was not the problem. Then I thought it was my form. I focused on my shape and feathers. Things got worse before they got better.¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°You look the same.¡± ¡°My form was not the issue either. The blasted wind is the issue.¡± I looked at the flayen, open to the idea, but hesitant to let my hopes build. ¡°Six and a half minutes,¡± Cal said. ¡°You cut off ninety seconds?¡± ¡°I think it will be more than that for you. I want you to increase my form by double, then stay close behind me.¡± ¡°OK.¡± ¡°The first few rounds do not count. This is going to take some practice and teamwork.¡± ¡°We¡¯re gonna need more than a few rounds.¡± ¡°Just use that sharp mind of yours, and we will be fine.¡± I did as Cal asked, adding more mana to his falcon form¡ªallowing him to grow twice the size. Cal took flight immediately, swooping around close by. Hopefully, he was getting a feel for his larger form and was not expecting me to follow. I didn¡¯t feel like running circles. He landed a moment later. ¡°Ready?¡± He asked. I nodded, and we got to work. We spent every last moment training until my time expired¡ªspending nearly an entire year in my mindscape.
I woke up to the sound of feet trampling through the forest. A mana-enriched breeze stirred the forest. Wild energy to the north had been unveiled. The rustling noises rapidly moved away from me toward the chaotic energy. I closed my eyes, steadying my breathing and readying my body. This attempt was going to be the one that I won. This was no simulation. Beaks burst into action as soon as he was summoned. The large falcon flew at a forty-five-degree angle from our destination. Banking and weaving through trees. Ice blades formed under my feet, and a layer of ice paved a path that followed Beaks. I connected to a tree on my path using two anchors and slingshotted myself forward. Cal dove lower, wings wide, catching the air and gliding effortlessly. I dropped behind him, aligning myself with his path. The pressure eased. The slipstream behind her cut through the air like a blade. I crouched low and stayed close to Cal, letting the falcon create a tunnel through the air. We angled left back to the main path. Another two anchors shot out, latching onto a sturdy branch. I pulled hard, maintaining a tight form. Cal flew a few feet in front of me. He barreled through the air and guided us on our path that never stretched more than fifty yards before switching back. The distance was longer, but we flew by trees. With less resistance, travel felt effortless. I was able to add more strength to every pull without fear of wearing out. I hit the five-mile mark in record time. It felt like we were gaining on my friends. At two miles, I could hear them running clearly. When I had one mile left, I could see vague silhouettes of three people blazing through the forest. Every last bit of will and strength was dumped into my technique. My body and spirit were tired, but I pushed on. We were so close. Each pull got me a little bit closer. Details of my friends were no longer vague. I could see them clearly. Only Five hundred yards between us. ¡°Lana!¡± ¡°Flint!¡± ¡°Rocky!¡± Four hundred yards until I reached the clearing. My friends had half of that. ¡°Stop.¡± ¡°Please stop.¡± Cal burst forward with tremendous speed, hoping to deter them for a second. I could see the back of Lana¡¯s head. I could smell the faint aromas of her flowery perfume. Cal landed in front of my squad as a flayen, only to be blasted by a bright ray of light that disintegrated him. I reached the clearing less than two hundred yards behind my friends. My squad kept their fast pace towards the battlefield, crossing through the mana domains with ease. I couldn¡¯t follow at my speed. The domains were dangerous to navigate, and I didn¡¯t have trees close by to anchor to. We were so close. Just not close enough. I dropped my head. My heart pumped wildly, and I gasped for air. I reached for a tree for support as I regained my breath, forcing myself to swallow. Not again. I wouldn¡¯t watch my friends die this time. Snowpiercer formed in my hand. 73. Get Better My trusty bow brought comfort as I resolved myself for the battle ahead. I covered my body in black ice, compacted my domain¡ªcreating a dense pocket of power around me, and stepped into the warzone of mana, where mages fought. The powerful cultivators'' auras ripped into my domain. I repelled and cycled the power as much as I could. When I reached my breaking point, two hundred yards shy of the battle, I condensed my domain to the point where it was only an arm''s width away. Though it barely projected from me, it was rich in power. My concentrated aura of power allowed me to sift through the malevolent energy and push further. Water absorbed fire, darkness, and death. It blocked razor currents of air and cut through the entangling earth. Fortunately, I wasn''t the focus of the mages. Unfortunately, the mages were realms higher than I was in power. It didn''t matter if I was their focus or not. Every step forward pushed my domain past its breaking point. The atmosphere threatened to crush me. It was hot, suffocating, and dense. Each step was like walking through a swamp with the sole purpose of destruction. My domain required a constant supply of mana. I trudged another fifty yards, making it to the outskirts of battle and barely holding onto my life. I had one purpose. It was the same purpose¡ªthe same promise I made to myself at the beginning of this journey. The same promise I made to my friends. The very promise I intended to keep. My friends were battling for their lives just over a hundred yards away. They had one focus as they fought a couple of the unknown mercenaries with the fire sword emblems. Lana looked like a musician with Light''s Edge. The blade sang as she cut through attacks and dispelled attacks. It harmonized the elf''s mana, extending light and golden energy waves. Light emanated with each attack. Flint looked entirely different. The only way I could tell it was him was his close proximity to Lana and their coordinated fighting style. He had shed at least eighty pounds, was clean-cut, and no longer wore his woodsman garb. Instead, he was dressed in a neat battle uniform seen on a high-ranked guard. Like Lana, Flint was covered in light. He fired pistols and threw mana runes into the fray. Rocky stayed close to Lana and Flint. He supported the squad with dense pockets of air and bolts of lightning. Lana deflected an arrow with a light shield. She increased the brightness of her barrier. Her attacker looked away. At the last second, he blocked the fireball hurled at his chest, lowering his guard in time for Flint''s mana pistol to land a barrage of shots at the attacker''s head. Flint fired into the exposed side of the second attacker, sword fighting Lana. The attacker winced in pain for a split second. It was a fatal opening. Lana''s blade struck fast, cutting him down. Another orb of light deflected a barrage of ice and fire. The squad found the new attacker and pressed forward to the center of the battle, where a lifeless body was staked. I pushed forward into the dangerous energy, gritting my teeth and straining my spirit. My channels and core had never been tested so intensely. My mind and will keep me in the fight. I could decipher the energies attacking my domain and counter them appropriately. Each second was a battle against a dozen domains, and the attacks increased in intensity with every step. One hundred yards was all that remained between me and my friends. My domain was in shreds, forcing me to use scraps to protect myself. The flayens and mysterious Fire Blade mercenaries dwindled in numbers as the battle raged. A powerful earth mage animated five bloodwoods and commanded them to fight. For a second, it looked like the battle would shift as the towering red golems hurled boulders and slashed at the twelve mages of the empire. My squad and a couple flayens got caught in the crossfire. An Alderi mage erupted into flames, took to the sky, and hunted for the attacking trees. His pillar of fire soaked the trees in a hungry flame that burned deep. The air filled with smoke and the distressed smell of burning greenery. As the fire consumed the golems, their thick bodies groaned and cracked. The orange energy dripped to the ground, burning holes and melting stone. Giants collapsed. The world shook, and the sky thundered. My domain shattered fifty yards away from my battling friends. It was so shredded that I couldn''t keep what remained in a cohesive barrier. My body nearly imploded, and it took all of my will to resist annihilation. I tried to force out more mana to create a new domain. Darkness restricted my energy. In the distance, a sleeper weaved a massive silencing spell. I suffered various attacks without protection. Lacerations cut deep into my armor, some cutting through my skin. I couldn''t endure much more, but I refused to turn back. This life would not be wasted if I could see my friends. I took another step. One of my pauldrons was cut off. It fell to the ground and blood covered my shoulder. A segment of my greaves was next to fall. My helm broke on the next step. A force of wind punched me in the gut. I felt like I''d been spiked once more. I doubled over. Each breath was painful and filled with smoke. I could barely see the fight ahead. "Keep going," I told myself, pushing my right leg through the thickness of power and pulling my left behind. A wall of mana slammed into me, knocking me down and ripping me apart. Blood poured from a cut on my brow, and I winced as it dripped down my face. It was so hard to breathe. My muscles screamed in pain, echoing the cries of my soul. "Get up." I pulled myself forward, regaining some momentum. "One more step." I grabbed Snowpiercer, not recalling when I dropped it. I tried to stand and even used my bow as support. The pressure in the air was too immense. It was like clouds had descended with significant weight and mass. Not only did I battle the air, the ground refused to let me go. I couldn''t stand. Let alone take another step forward. Even crawling felt like a monumental task. Still, I tried, only to be halted once more. Another push forward meant death. The mana was too powerful. Ao''s Bloody Pits. I was so close. My head felt so heavy, and breathing was a chore. Another step forward would put me at the mercy of the elements. My fist pounded the ground. I shouted into the tumultuous battle. My feeble battlecry was as insignificant as my presence and got lost in the terrible void. LIVE. The promise echoed in my soul. I would not die here. Not like this¡­ Not without seeing my friends. One, I counted in my head. It was an old exercise I learned in the marines. It was a method to face difficult things. I solidified my will and took a deep, painful breath¡ªcalming my nerves. This couldn''t be my limit. I wouldn''t be stopped here. There had to be a way forward. I was so close. I refused to be stopped. Two. I searched for any power I had¡ªmore strength to stand, mana to boost myself¡ªanything. My legs were too weak, and the mana cycling through me was restricted. However, four steps behind me I felt tendrils of water mana. The lingering cyan energy was the remains of my shattered domain and broken armor. I couldn''t expel my internal mana but could still connect to external mana. I reached out and connected to the tendrils. With a hold on the cyan energy, I brought the fragments of my armor and domain to me. I closed my fist, shattering the fragments into shards of ice. All of my focus went into connecting to the ice shards. My clenched fist became a focal point to which I refused to let go. One by one, I weaved the shards into a connection. The strain was immense. My fingernails dug into my palm. Time crawled, and the world around me seemed to pause. I wasn''t in my mindscape, but I was close. A hundred shards floated around me¡ªeach connected to my soul. Sweat turned into blood as I pushed past my mental limits. I needed more. One fifty. Two hundred. My head nearly hit the ground before I came back to my senses. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. It still wasn''t enough. My head screamed. My soul bled. Every new connection felt like a dagger in my heart. I embraced the pain and reached out for more ice. Blood covered my clenched fist. Snowpiercer groaned. The world was gray, and my vision was dark when I made the last connection. With the last of my strength, I refused to die. I forced my eyes open just as I breathed my last. Chaos. How could anyone survive this? The battle was utter chaos. Alright. I nodded my head. My bloody fist opened. Three hundred blades of ice spun around me in a fast vortex, each commanded by my threads. Three. Time to move. Cut, I commanded my shards. The ice carved through the thick mana walls, tearing through smoke, fire, and darkness, paving a way forward. I took another deep breath. Using Snowpiercer as support, I struggled to my feet and pressed forward, battling the elements every step. My storm of ice cut through boulders and fireballs. Darkness dispelled. Skeletons created from death energy were erased before my eyes. I was on the toes of my feet, plowing through a wall of power I had no business passing through. I wouldn''t be stopped. Twenty-five yards. Through the thick haze of smoke, I saw my friends pushing back the two Alderi mages. I didn''t have much time. Rocky was already dead. Lana''s bright light waned. A probe of mental energy shot through my mind. I winced in pain. For a second, I lost focus of my blades, and my body took a beating. I barely regained my defenses in time to repel the violent mana. As I took another step forward, I noticed an ominous presence in my mind. I couldn''t enter my mindscape to deal with the threat. My head ached and my eyes burned with a fearful intensity. Just ahead, a flayen had taken notice of me and attacked. I endured hundreds of mental attacks in less than a second. It felt like a lifetime. Your defenses are holding, but the flayen is throwing all his power at you, Cal said. I will do what I can to ward off his attacks. Take him down as soon as you can. Zaltur is a much stronger mind-mage than me. The burning pain in my mind dampened. I could tell it would return in full force in a couple of seconds. Cal had bought me some time. I raised Snowpeircer, created an arrow from ten shards, drew, and fired. The arrow spun through the air whistling. Zaltur''s head flew back as he dropped to the ground. The pain in my head dispersed. Before the flayen next to the downed Zaltur could notice me, I sacrificed ten more shards and fired another arrow. My aim was true. A sharp blast of air ripped into me, pushing me back several feet. One of the fire-branded mercs noticed me. Fortunately, my ice storm intercepted the worst of the mage''s attacks. The mage created a crescent blade of wind in the palm of his hand. The power was so immense that I could feel it pulling and cutting even ten yards away. The puffer smiled. We both knew his attack was overkill. Before sending his attack, he was forced to raise an aegis to counter the fireball hurled at him by the Alderi smoker. In a battle against mages, losing focus on the larger threats was dangerous. The puffer paid for his lapse in judgment and weathered a barrage of fire before he could strike back at the opposing smoker with his crescent air blade intended for me. I timed his counterattack and fired when he was the most exposed. Wind tried to knock my arrow aside to no avail. We were too close, and my ice arrow was still connected to my will, which empowered my command to kill. Several things happened in a split second. A wind blade met a fire meteor, creating a massive explosion just above the puffer''s head; a thread of darkness connected to the enemy merc, and my arrow struck his neck as his defenses faltered. He fell to the ground, covered in fire and holding his neck. I took multiple hits with my reduced shards protecting me. My left eye took a nasty gash from stray shrapnel. Wind cut through tendons in my left arm, forcing me to switch Snowpiercer to my right hand. I couldn''t fire it, but I didn''t want to move on without it. Dark mana encompassed the battlefield like a cold blanket. The silencing power of darkness caused my connection to my shards to drop. The heaviness returned, and my progress halted. Bloody Hell. I cursed the fallen world of legends and all the silent gods. I scanned the battlefield, searching for the sleeper mage. My search was in vain. Light mana blasted back the darkness, dispelling the silencing effect of the soft mana. I connected to the shards I could and lunged forward, closing the gap and taking a beating in return. Ragged and broken, I fell five feet away from Lana. I choked on my breath as I tried to call her name. My vision darkened as light embraced me. "Kip." I heard Lana call. I fought to open the one eye I could. Lana stared at me, tears pooling in her reddened eyes. "This does not make sense." She looked at my corpse on the pike. Her hand rested on her heart. "My spell is not that strong." Her gaze returned to me. "The clone? No, it is you. I can feel it." She rushed to my side, catching my head before it dropped. Life energy shot through my chest, restoring some of my health. "Hey Kip," the man next to Lana said. "Terrible scouting job." I choked on my laughter. A golden orb surrounded the three of us. It felt strangely peaceful inside the dome while mages fought. Even the attacks hitting the protective barrier were muffled. "I told you to leave." I eyed the salt and peppered-haired elf. "Lana could not leave you, and I did not want to leave Sasha¡­" The old guard smiled and winced. "And, well... Rocky always had a death wish." Lana nodded, supporting my head in her arm as she brushed my hair. Tears fell on me intermittently. "This was a terrible idea." "The best ones are," The old guard said, dropping his regal accent¡ªsounding more like Flint. "It is a tough and dreary world. You can only lose so much of your heart before you grow numb, and neither of us wants a cold life. This squad was our family. We would not leave it behind. Not this time." A thick, powerful aura radiated from the regal guard, fed the light barrier around us mana. Although it was a different energy than Flint''s, it felt the same as his. He adjusted his gear and holstered his pistols, pulling out a couple runes in a sly motion. Despite his power, the heavy bags under his eyes were his most prominent feature. The man was tired and broken. Just like me¡­ Just like Lana. "I can buy you two a few more seconds." Flint infused the runes with his power and set them on the ground, shifting the barrier''s mana supply. "I am sorry I could not save you from death''s greedy hands, Princess. It was a dream to serve you." He smiled. "Kip." He dipped his head to me and walked toward the edge of the barrier. "Wait," I called. Flint slowed his steps but didn''t stop. He reached for the barrier. "This won''t be our end." "Even so, it was a good one." "No. Stop." I looked at Lana, who was choking on her own words. She wanted to call out, but for once, her voice faltered. "Thank you," Lana said, barely managing a whisper. Heavy tears streamed down her face. "We can get through this." The words were spoken in vain. It didn''t matter that I was in a time loop. At least not at this moment. Flint could buy us time, but it would be short. Even if we worked together we weren''t getting out of this mess alive. Still, it was hard to accept that this powerful guard would lay down his life so willingly. We had time. No. He had given Lana and me time. Flint created an opening and walked out of the dome, disappearing into the smoke and dust on the other side. The last I saw of him he was walking towards Sasha. Lana helped me off the ground and wiped the blood off my face as she returned vision to my eye. She held me tight and kissed me. The timing was terrible, and we didn''t care. I held her tight and kissed her back. It didn''t matter that our world was at its end. Lana had run through hell for one last moment. I had lived through it. Time crawled to a stop. Fire exploded on the shell around us. Raining boulders created spider web fractures on the dome. The wind howled, and the sky cracked. Peace and warmth filled my soul amidst the chaos. I treasured every second. Red flames swallowed our barrier. As our walls shattered, I felt confident that the two of us could withstand the might of the heavens. Together we were indestructible. A cold and distant fire engulfed us. We held each other tighter. "It''s you and me, Bear." Lana rested her head on my shoulders. "Against the world." We swayed in our embrace, comforted by our promise. "Forever and always." "Forever and always, Goldi." I lifted Lana''s head gently by her chin and gave her one last kiss.
I woke up to the sound of feet trampling through the forest. A mana-enriched breeze stirred the forest. Wild energy to the north had been unveiled. The rustling noises rapidly moved away from me toward the chaotic energy. My heart beat wildly. I grasped at the pain in my chest, hoping to dull it. Tears landed softly on the ground. I took a deep breath and then another. The pain inside grew into a wildfire. An unquenchable burning urge to see my friends again. No. To never see my friends like that again. For them, I would get stronger. For them, I would bring down the heavens. "Lana," I whispered. "I will save you." End of Book 1 2.1 A good Day to Die Again

1. A Good Day to Die Again

I woke up to the sound of feet trampling through the forest. A mana-enriched breeze stirred the forest, unmasking wild energy to the north. The rustling noises rapidly moved away from me toward the chaotic energy. My heart beat wildly. I grasped at the pain in my chest, hoping to dull it. Tears landed softly on the ground. I took a deep breath and then another. The pain inside grew into a wildfire. An unquenchable burning urge to see my friends again. No. To never see my friends like that again. For them, I would get stronger. For them, I would bring down the heavens. "Lana," I whispered. "I will save you." There was nothing more that I wanted than to take another run after my friends. What were the loops for, if not to waste lives? And seeing Lana, Flint, and Rocky again was not wasting lives. It was good for my soul to see them. With that in mind, it was a good day to die again. On the other hand, I knew I needed to suppress my urges. Each loop came at a cost. And even if I were to make progress in battle against mages, there was practically a zero chance I would make it out of the fight with my squad alive. Reason won out. I closed my eyes and entered my mindscape. I had just fought on the battlefield of mages. There was a lot I wanted to learn from the fight, as well as sharpening my domain. "That was brilliant," Calypso said as I entered my mindscape. "You defended the mental attack of Zaltur and killed a mage." "It was a cheap shot. The mage was fighting other mages. He was seconds away from killing me before he got interrupted." I hesitated for a moment, choosing my following words carefully. "Thanks for the help in the fight. I''m sorry about the flayens." The flayen nodded in acceptance, but I could tell he was conflicted. During the skirmish, Cal had helped me fend off the attack of Zaltur, a high-ranked mind mage who had singled me out. Given the nature of the battlefield, I didn''t have the option of entering my mindscape and fighting off the flayen myself. Unexpectedly, Calypso stepped in for me. In return, I killed Zaltur and another flayen. It had to be done, but that didn''t make me feel any better about it. And it didn''t help that I knew Cal''s oath had turned him against his people. In time, I hope to be able to help the flayens out. However, that''d be a few years away¡­ if I can even survive in a loop that long. I''d spent a little more than a couple years in my time loop. Most of the loops were less than a week long. Now, if I could survive long enough, my strengthened core and reforged platinum mind would allow my frozen body to live for four months. Inside my mindscape, I could stretch that to an entire year. As I meditated, I took a moment to reflect on the loops I''d gone through, tracking what I''d learned, the skills I gained, and the challenges I still faced. Incidentally, much of what I''d learned coincided with the challenges I still faced. In terms of achieving my goals, I had yet to reach the mountain I needed to climb. Tackling the stars was out of the question. It would be easy to get overwhelmed with all of the barriers. My friends were dead, and though I was making progress in saving them, there were so many caveats. Once they were saved, could I keep them safe from the empire and assassins? There was the shadow plague, which sounded like a worldwide disaster. If we somehow survived assassins and plagues, there were two different invaders heading for Helm. The flayens might be able to be negotiated with. That didn''t seem likely, but that depended more on the world leaders than on me. Still, their decisions or actions would impact us. Could Helm even host refugees from other worlds? The flayens weren''t just normal cultivators either. By the sounds of it, they were all mind cultivators drunk on their superiority. Even in the best-case scenarios, there was bound to be conflict. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. At the very end, if we survived the flayens, there was the scourge¡ªthe world devourers that had caused the flayens to flee their worlds in the first place. My little information on these conquerors led me to believe they were our biggest threat. Along with the major challenges, I still had a myriad of questions and concerns. The vampires were still fresh in my mind. They were creating a cult in Cyanne and had attacked travelers from Tom''s Pond. What were they doing in Cyanne, and why was the empire turning a blind eye to them? There was also the dungeon in the Bloodwoods. The pack of wolfbears living in the cavern made no sense. Nor did the lone templar ranked cultivator or the rat bastard and his undead rat army. On top of it all, there was still an expansive dark room at the entrance that we hadn''t explored thoroughly. The Bloodwoods held their own mysteries as well. What was the fire spirit that was created when I burned down a portion of the forest? I don''t remember the spirit much, but Cal was adamant that it was responsible for bringing the attention of Purity, one of the assassins hunting me. Then there was Tom¡­ The sage-ranked grounder also came when I burned the forest and fought Purity and again when I dried the forest up. The first time, he tried to save me; the second time, he killed me. Tom was somewhere in the Bloodwoods, and he was powerful. Stronger than Purity even, and that cold-blooded killer easily put me in my place. And then there was me. Aside from a lack of power, my memories were degrading. Cal had set in place an attack to try to root me from my body. Cal had been thwarted and seemed loyal to me now, even going so far as to fight against his own people. However, the memory wiper Calypso created was still active, and there was no way to completely stop it. We''d developed ways to minimize the damage, but my defenses were vulnerable each time I died. With every failure, a part of me slipped away. The threat terrified me. My memories were the core of who I was. Memories were what made souls so unique. Without them, I''d be lost¡ªa blank slate with no direction, a wanderer in the desert. The risk of losing my memories made every cycle precious. I couldn''t just go about each life without concern for the consequences. However, as much as the loss of memories scared me, this opportunity I''d been given had been tremendous. Not only did I have a chance to get stronger, I would be able to save my friends. In fact, I expected to be able to reach them before they left the forest once I reforged my body. My mind was definitely the biggest benefactor of the loops. I had reached nine levels in the mind essence, allowing me to reforge it. The process was difficult, but I persevered and reached a platinum-ranked reforged mind. It was a rank unheard of according to Cal, who was a good source on mind rankings. I agreed with him¡ªaccording to my research, gold was the highest attainable rank when it came to reforging. I didn''t know precisely what it meant to have a higher-tier mind, but much of my processing seemed faster. The time dilation in my mindscape had significantly increased, and I was beyond a god''s power level. If there was such a thing. It felt like I had an incredible depth of power at my disposal; I just needed to learn how to wield it¡­ or capitalize on it. My cultivation and skill gains were no joke either. I was no longer a lancer. I reached the templar rank and could now exert my will on ambient water mana. Water bent to my will, and my domain was forged against mages. Mages were powers two realms beyond mine. I had no business being among them, yet I could walk into their battlefield¡­ well crawl. I was there, though, and I stood for a time. However, the chance to stand with mages wasn''t because of my domain alone. My domain shattered a few yards shy before I could be in their presence. The reason I made it as far as I did was my skills. Water razors were developing to incredible strength. Attaching so many water molecules and fighting with them felt like an incredible skill. I didn''t have the strength to hurl tidal waves, but I could precisely control hundreds of daggers. The ability to connect and influence water in such a way intrigued me, and I was going to learn more about it. Travel had gotten faster with skating and anchoring. Basic ice summons, barriers, and ice armor had improved in quality. My summons were now nearly indestructible black ice. Thanks to Cal, I could even summon my own familiar. Water vapors created clouds I could disappear in. They also provided me with information that I could tap into from distances away. While water cycled through my body, I healed and recovered from injuries faster. I was connected to water on a new level. That connection, along with my reforged mind, gave me confidence that I would be able to take on all my challenges given enough time. I just had to be patient and not worry about what I might lose. I couldn''t let fear stop me from saving my friends. Time might be on my side, but it was a double-edged sword. That meant that I would have to play to my strengths, which was why I was in my mindscape. It was time to push my reforged mind to its limits. "Cal," I said, breaking the flayen from his inner turmoil. "What else can you teach me?" "Take a seat." The flayen grinned and ran a hand through his strange beard. "I am going to blow your mind." 2.2 The Perks of Being Platinum In a way, Cal did blow my mind. Instead of slowly explaining the intricate details of the mind, he sent a wave of information, granting me a wealth of knowledge in an instant. Before, I was wary of trusting the flayen with too much information. Now, I was trusting in my powerful mind to keep me safe and well, Cal. He was sworn to only help me. Trust was a good choice based on the information I received, most of which I was still processing, and the other half was irrelevant. Motivated by what I''d learned, I had some work to do in my mindscape. First things first, I needed to revamp my mental security. That meant protecting the core elements of my mind, such as my memories, beliefs, character, and preferences. I followed the same patterns as my final defenses before reforgement with a lot of added extra elements, traps, and surprises. Locked rooms with no doors or locks. Condensed ocean barriers inside condensed ocean barriers. Castles and Palaces with armed guards. Monsters patrolling the exterior of walls. False rooms and fake rewards. Several duplicates of the core tenets of my mind were created, and each one was properly protected. It took me a little over two weeks inside my mindscape to create the perfect defense. Cal commented a handful of times that I was being overly protective. He thought I was being redundant and he was probably right. Still, I found comfort in abundance and blanketed my mind with all the security it could muster. Admittedly, I might''ve been intoxicated with the power I wielded in my realm. I held so much power that it was hard not to want to push it to its limits. This became a problem when Cal was unable to test my defenses properly. Unlike before, when he could break through my initial fortification, now the mind flayen couldn''t even make it through the ocean to reach my stronghold. And that was only the first level of defense. He assured me that if I had the security I had now, not even Balthazar, let alone Zaltur, could breach my walls. I wanted to believe Cal, and I did, but I also wanted proof. All it took was a little willpower, and I was able to bring the might of the flayen invasion into my mind palace, where I had them attack. Cal proved to be correct. The ocean was too dense for the flayens to travel through, and even though they weren''t in water, their minds couldn''t tell otherwise. They struggled for air, which slowed their progress. As they swam, currents pushed them away, and freezing waters broke their spirits. Darkness and monsters did the rest. Balthazar almost reached my walls. He fell to a barrage of arrows and knives from hidden assassins. The trial wasn''t good enough. I needed a stronger force. The fact that the flayens lost to the Empire convinced me that I would face stronger opponents and never again would I let my mind be at the mercy of another. Never again would I be so unprotected. I added the rest of the mages involved in the battle. The combined might of all the mages allowed them to reach my walls, where they all died. Despite all of the supernatural forces attacking the invaders, the scenario was real to them. They were sieging a castle and not in a mindscape. And because they were lost in my illusion, they forfeited power that they might''ve conjured otherwise. On top of that, I stripped them of their mana. The mages and flayens attacked my colossal walls with swords, axes, and spears¡ªlike ants biting at boulders. It wasn''t lost on me that these trials were all in my head, and the outcomes were predisposed to be favorable. I tried to minimize my desire to succeed by turning my desires toward destruction. It wasn''t good enough that my walls were built so sturdy. I needed the invaders to break them down so I could shore up weaknesses. After several failed sieges, I implemented some changes. All of the attackers were bolstered by my will and given my blessing. They were no longer stripped of power and had some ability to manifest their wills in my mind. In a sense, a part of me was devoted to the invaders. Still, with the advantages given to them, they couldn''t breach the walls of my first fortification. The results were somewhat irritating. What I needed was an opponent on the same level who held the same amount of power as me. The solution was simple. I just needed another me to challenge my protections. In other words, I needed to split my mind. I wanted to do this task earlier in the loops but couldn''t because I needed to reforge my mind first, and I was afraid of reforging my mind because of a lingering parasite that persisted in his process. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Cal and I had come to a deal since then. He had made a pact with me, and while I can''t completely trust him, I can trust our pact. The flayen was bound to serve me. It helped that he was impressed by my shiny, reforged mind¡ªalmost borderline worshipful. Splitting focus was a high-level skill that cultivators on mind pathways strived to achieve. It wasn''t the ultimate boon for the cultivators, but it was a significant one that led to much more growth. The problem was that it took a lot of mental foundations to split a mind. Usually, only mid-tier templars started the process. Skilled cultivators could split their minds before reaching the rank of sage. It was a bit rare that I split my mind while still at the lancer rank, but I attributed it to my training and teachers. Lana, Flint, and Sasha were all adept in the ways of the mind. With their tutelage, I pushed past barriers that were usually unbreakable. To split a mind, one needed to focus on two things completely for an extended period of time. It wasn''t just passive focus, either. The focus needed to be active, like solving two separate puzzles at once. It would be even better if one of the puzzles was more logical and the other physical. I got to creating two puzzles to split my focus. As I focused on one puzzle, my mind wandered, and I started working on the second puzzle¡­ and then a third and a fourth. I capped off the surreal moment before a fifth puzzle could be created. My mind felt like it was unraveling as each new focus began a new task. The uncomfortable feeling somewhat frightened me, and I wasn''t ready to let the splitting play out. What if there were lasting consequences? Instead of completing the fifth puzzle, I focused on the budding splits, watching as they created, swapped, and completed puzzles. Three minds were working separately on different tasks, interacting as if one. Each action one mind took was my own. I held all the knowledge and experience it had. When one created a puzzle, I shared the feeling of satisfaction. When a new puzzle was placed before one of the splits, I saw a new challenge, while at the same time, I knew precisely how to complete the puzzle. I was each one of the creators and challengers and even the spectator. Splitting minds was supposed to be a complex process. Yet, here I was at the brink of splitting my mind four times simultaneously, and perhaps it could''ve been more. I watched my splits work against each other for hours, each split determined to outsmart the other. The puzzles became more complex, the challenges tougher, and they took more time to create and solve. Deceit was employed, and all manner of trickery was unleashed. Puzzles turned to labyrinths. Labyrinths were filled with traps and monsters, then placed in dungeons and guarded by more traps and monsters. The amount of detail and trickery that went into each puzzle intrigued me. However, the biggest takeaway was that each split had a strong urge to cheat to win. I respected the efforts to gain the supreme split title. "This is remarkable," Cal said, sitting beside my fourth spit. We were on a ledge overlooking the valley where the other splits battled in a game of wits. "Are they stable?" I turned my attention from the battle and focused on the splits individually. As far as I could tell, they were complete minds. Each was a replica of my mind and capable of completing tasks independently. If I wanted to, I could place one in a shell and create a new clone. On the surface, the splits were whole. However, I still wanted to watch them closely to see if there were any loose threads. "As far as I can tell, they are stable," I answered Cal. I watched the battles for a few more minutes, grinning as a devious thought came to me. "Would you like to sow some discord?" "And risk ruining the results of the challenge?" "They''re too comfortable with the stalemate. They need a second party to upset the balance." "They will see right through me." "Ae," I agreed with Cal. "You''ll have to employ new tricks; get your hands dirty." "Another test?" I nodded. "Do I need to remind you of the dangers of getting lost in one''s mind?" Cal asked a bit wearily. He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Kip, one can get lost if they aren''t careful. That is the case for mere talented cultivators. With the power you have here¡­ why would you ever leave?" "It''s not real?" "To who?" Cal didn''t need to say more. The truth was that the mindscape was as real as I wanted it to be. In other words, it could be real for me, and that was all that mattered. "I won''t get lost in here," I couldn''t get lost in my own world. As intoxicating as it was, living in a world of my power and creation was self-gratifying. It only served me. Sure, it was awesome and felt great, but I was never the center of my goals. Power was only a means to an end. I was only going through the loops to save my friends, and no amount of godly power in my mindscape was going to save them. For that, I needed my power within to transfer to the world outside. The transfer of power, however, wasn''t as simple as I''d like it to be. I was indeed a god in my own mindscape, but who wasn''t a god in their own minds. Absolute creators with unlimited power. Most of that power dissipated when one tried to manifest it physically. In order to bridge that gap, I needed actual training as well. However, the physical and metaphysical gap wouldn''t stop me from exploiting my mind for as much gain as possible. What good would having three extra minds be if I didn''t exploit them endlessly¡­ I already had plans for two of them. 2.3. The Divided Mind My three split minds continued to compete to create the most challenging puzzle. Skirmishes were fought in a valley of my mind. Every moment they fought, the splits became closer to being their own minds. Cal jumping into the fray added more complexity to the battles. He was an unknown element, which meant that none of the puzzles could be solved with the transfer of thought. It then became a battle to extort Cal to gain an advantage. I thought Calypso might resent me for putting him in the pit along with my splits. On the contrary, the mind cultivator was basking in an atmosphere of comfort. He proved to be every bit as aggressive and cunning as my splits. Subtly, the flayen propped himself up to claim the position of the supreme mind, all while fanning the flames between the splits. He thought himself quite the deceiver, forgetting the last focus that watched over all and freely shared knowledge. The battle would''ve lasted for weeks, and I was tempted to let it all happen while working on other tasks. Solving the puzzles or even making an unsolvable puzzle wasn''t my goal. I only wanted to split my focus. I now had three separate minds within my one mind. The splits were solid. They wouldn''t unravel or work contrary to my will and would not be a weakness other mind cultivators could exploit. They were complete splits, allowing me to multitask on four things simultaneously with complete focus. It was almost like I''d cloned myself three more times. Which was what I wanted¡­ With a command, I ended the war of puzzles and started a new war on my palace. The goal was simple: reach the center-most palace in my mind where I stored the core of my mind. Three splits got to work. Their invasion was much different than the fights before. With my main focus taking part in the battle, I was able to withhold information, preventing my splits from cheating. War commenced. It started with three splits cutting through the dense barrier of water. Their combined effort took roughly fifteen minutes to reach my outer walls. Once at the walls, a salvo of attacks was exchanged. Defenders conjured monsters to destroy the invaders'' siege weapons, and the invaders countered with monsters of their own. Massive beasts that couldn''t exist anywhere but in a mindscape tore into each other. The walls were broken and quickly repaired. When the frontal assault was repelled, the splits halted their attack to form a new plan, giving the defenders time to renew their fortification. Eventually, the splits won the battle. The combined forces of three minds sent an unending volley of attacks using siege weapons, monsters, and deception. Like Cal''s attack, the trio found a way into the fortress while the battles were fought at the walls. It was an oversight that I was glad to be discovered. Even as the battle inside the palace played out, I implemented new defenses into deeper fortifications, working out the kinks in my barrier. The war inside the walls took another thirty minutes before the invaders had complete control. From there, they searched for the hidden vault. What they found was a door leading to another ocean and another fortress. The battle would begin again. This time, the defenders were updated on the invaders'' strategies and prepared to fend them off. In the end, the splits made it through three tiers of defenses. After shoring up all the weaknesses they exposed, I added one more deterrence to the defenses that could possibly keep even the most powerful mind mage out of my defenses and restarted the battles. On the third round of fighting, the splits could no longer penetrate my first fortress. In the fourth round of fighting, I actively participated in defending. It was a landslide victory. The splits got lost in the ocean, and from there, I knocked them out one by one. Though each one was as powerful and cunning as my primary focus, they lacked the extra bit of focus that I had. A little bit of an advantage was all that was needed to turn the tides of battle. Besides improving my mental defenses, the battles with my splits helped provide ideas for using my third split mind from here on out. At the start of the endeavor, I was only looking to gain a new split. One turned to three. It was a significant improvement, but I wasn''t prepared for the extra processing power. Now, I knew what I wanted out of all of them.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. One split would be focused on mental defenses. He would try to find any weakness and provide modifications where needed. He would also train the defenders and help them become better fighters and more strategic. The defensive split would also work on his conjuring. During our many fights, we learned some monsters were stronger than others. Split one would practice with his monsters and discover the best builds for all the environments. Split two would focus on channeling my mana. While I could do this passively and often did, cultivation was much more productive when it was actively being done. Split two would improve my spirit so that I would have the perfect foundation when I focused on gaining more spirit essence. Like the defender seeking constant improvement, Split Two would do the same. It would refine my cultivating techniques to maximize my gains. He would also be in charge of exploring new skills and techniques with water. That meant Split Two would improve my current skills, including domain strengthening. Split three was going to be my wild card. As of right now, that meant it was focused on helping me improve my body cultivation. It was a bit of a conundrum because of all three essences. The body needed the most physical assertion to improve. Still, plenty of mental aspects of body cultivation could be improved within the mind. The first involved improving techniques. Split three would seek ways to improve my body cultivation, and a major part of that would be sparing past foes. First would be Purity, then it would move on to Tom. After that, if I had enough information on the mages, it would simulate the battles against them. I sent the command to the three splits and let them get to work. It was all in my head, but it seemed like my progression shot through barriers as soon as the command was given. I couldn''t help smiling at the thought. "This is something else," Cal said, appearing beside me. The flayen often spent time in his mind trying to find a way to exist alone¡ªnot stuck to me. Since being trapped in the loops, his progression had just about been halted, and any gains he earned with me stayed with me. He wanted more and I didn''t blame him. "I thought you would''ve created clones with them¡­ however, keeping them in your mind¡­ Your progression is going to spike. Brilliant." "I''m worried it''s too artificial." Cal stroked his beard of tentacles. "Perhaps it is, but does it matter?" "You witnessed it with me; the split minds, though they are every bit as powerful as my primary focus, can''t match the raw power of, well¡­ my mind." "Yes, there is that. The splits will never be as powerful as the original. It is like a summoner with a minion. The summoner could give the minion every powerup in existence. He could upgrade the minion for a thousand years while neglecting his progression. Who would win in battle?" "The summoner." "Does that undervalue the minion? Does this mean his minion was weak? The minion could''ve been a destroyer of worlds. It could bring realms to their knees. At the end of the day, though, the minion is the extension of the master, and as such, they can''t go against the master''s will." "So the battle I joined against the splits wasn''t as much of a landslide as I thought it was?" "Yes and no. You exert power over your splits, which could significantly impact the battle against them. However, I believe your active influence in any mind battle will have the same effect." Cal paused, diving into deeper thought. "Posting your own split to guard your mind actively might be overkill." I considered all of Cal''s words, especially the last. Having three splits work for me would be a considerable advantage; however, I needed to consider the possibility of wasting their potential. "Would you have split the act otherwise?" I asked. "No. I would want the mental defense as well. I might not have one dedicated to it at all times, but I would have one of the splits close by to defend at any hint of invasion. Mind mages can be cunning enemies." "I''ll keep the split working on my defenses for now. If something needs more focus, I''ll consider using it for the task," I said after more consideration. I wanted to keep my mind protected at all times, and it was. The dedicated split was just extra defense on top of... extra defense. That didn''t even include my latest upgrade to the defenses. Even just having the split ready to man the defenses at a moment''s notice was probably enough. If the need occurred, the split would have plenty of time to act while the invader struggled through the dense ocean barrier. "Until then," I continued. "The defenses will be improved, my monster creations will be strengthened, the defenders will be trained, and I''ll be able to test more scenarios." Cal smiled and shook his head in response. "I almost want the flayens to get here now so that you can further test your mind¡­ and see how ridiculous you have taken it." The last part was said with a chuckle. However, the looming threat of the flayens and Cal''s ties to his people halted our conversation, and both of us were deep in thought. Cal broke the silence with a sigh. "So what are we going to do now? Build another palace? Train some more splits?" "In time," I said, returning Cal''s jest with a serious joke of my own. "I''m gonna watch my splits a little longer, and then I''m gonna hunt down Tom. It''s time for some more training." 2.4. The Frozen Domain I left my mindscape to find the Bloodwoods dripping in water. A storm caused by an imbalance of mana had drenched the ground and trees, leaving a damp atmosphere that felt more like water than air. The wetness didn''t bother me; rather, it was an abundant source of cyan energy that would help Cult in his efforts. I took the first heavy step out of the mud and poured water on my boots to clean them. Once they were clean, I froze the ground beneath my feet to prevent further sinking. Stolen novel; please report. We set our path due north. Cal took to the air, and I set my water anchor into trees ahead and launched across the ground. The two of us covered the distance with practiced skill and familiarity. We didn''t bother with our fastest technique but still moved fast. They were bigger, jaws larger, and rippling with muscles. Hunger emanated from their core. 2.5. Bloodwood Pilgrimage "How do you think we find Tom?" I asked Cal as he landed and took up his flayen form. The squidman straightened out his robes and stretched his limbs before brushing his beard. I sauntered through the woods, and the flayen seemed content to join me on the stroll. "I asked first," Cal said. "I''m asking now." I didn''t think that would work and was surprised to hear Cal offer a solution. "Burn down the forest." It just wasn''t a very good solution. "That worked the first time, right?" Still, I didn''t completely toss it out. My first encounter with Tom was when I accidentally started a forest fire. It was another one of those off-loops. The fateful loop started with a failed attempt at creating ice armor and a successful attempt at chopping off my arm. From that point on, the loop spiraled. A chopped arm turned into a chopping arm, and since I had an ax for an arm, I chopped down a bunch of trees and wolfbears. The chopping was somewhat of a cathartic and therapeutic session that eased my mind in one area and created a bunch of guilt in another. It''s like what they said, "Slaying one demon only creates space for more demons to exist." They, in this case, was a drunken marine officer. It was either an alcoholic joke or an expert excuse on why it was terrible to break bad habits. Snags was a ripe bastard, but no one trained new marines better than him. The guilt turned out to be quite the demon. To lessen the weight of slaughter, I took it upon myself to consume the cores of all the beasts I killed, using the trees I felled to process cores into an elixir. The problem was that I drank too much of the solution, and there were a lot of fallen trees. Red trees happened to be very flammable. As I struggled with the solution burning my insides, the fire I kicked over burned the outsides. Like a moth to a flame, Purity, an assassin from the High Elf King''s Court of Jesters, arrived to claim the spark created from the flame. From what I gathered from Cal and fragments of the memory, the spark was an elemental fire spirit. It was a somewhat sentient nexus of mana, and if bound, it would allow cultivators to reach higher realms. Purity didn''t like me and wanted Sparks. She was also trying to kill me because I was friends with Lana, the exiled princess of a fallen elven kingdom. I didn''t know Lana was a princess. Nor did I understand why I needed to be killed for Purity and her Jesters to get to Lana. I was the weakest of the party, adding little to no strength. It wasn''t like I was a barrier of resistance. At least not to the mages. The unknown details were a bit messy. All that mattered was Tom saved me from Purity and a burning forest¡­ Which I''d forgotten because Cal, pre-contracted bond, started wiping my memories. Now, all I had from that loop were fragments of memories: A leveled forest. Burnt trees. A tense fight. Dying in a cavern. "I don''t think Tom will be receptive to us burning down his Trees," I said. "He was the first time," Cal said. "He even brought you into his home." "I think we can thank Purity for that. Hard not to blame a smoker when the forest is burning." "Certainly helped that she was holding onto Sparks," Cal said, ducking below a low branch as he followed me on the unknown path. "So we burn down the forest again, wait for Purity to claim the fire spirit, get into a small fight, and wait for Tom to save us. It is the perfect¡­ trap." The flayen hesitated, searching for the right word. "Seems convoluted." "I guess you could just dry the forest again and wait for Tom to come kill you. Perhaps we cultivate the perfect apology while you wait?" "I¡­" The plan was simple and made sense. It was probably the best course of action. However, there was a problem. "I don''t think I can dry the forest like I did last time. Certainly not on a level that would be noticed." When I drained the forest of water, I was deep in meditation, reforging my mind. While upgrading the essence, I was oblivious to what happened in the physical realm. The fact that I withered the forest dry came as a big shock. I didn''t know how I did it, nor did I feel connected to the power that allowed such devastation. It seemed that it was more connected to the reforging process than it was to my skills and ability.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. "Then we burn it down," Cal said with a cool callousness, this time choosing to snap the branch in front of him instead of ducking. However, his chosen branch was stronger than he expected and resisted his efforts. Miffed by his failed attempt, Cal hardened his fist along with his resolve. "I have already found the perfect kindling." "I''m not going to start a forest fire to find Tom." "The trees do not even care." The flayen glanced back at the branch he was forced to duck under. "Where are we going anyway?" "I don''t know." "So, just aimless wandering?" Cal Asked. "Until we find Tom." "Selene''s Beard. It is starting to get cold." Cal faked a shiver. "Can you feel that draft?" There was no breeze. "He said we could find him in the dirt." "I thought that was just a cool quip implying that you were a dead man." "So did I, but then you just reminded me that Tom took me back to his cavern after we first met." "When you burned down all the trees. Listen, I talked to the trees¡­ They said they thought it was a good plan." Cal had to pick up his pace to match the steps of me and Icy. Now that I knew what I was looking for, I had increased my pace. "They dream of warmth and glory." "Sogg would be more fitting than Selene," I said when Cal got to my side, hoping to change the subject and hide that while I was motivated, I still didn''t know where I was going. "What?" Cal asked with a perplexed look. "You invoked Selene instead of Soggy, but you were implying fire. Why use the Goddess of the Moon when you could use the Harbinger of Fire?" "What?" Cal asked again. Judging by Cal''s confusion, the change of subject was working. I really didn''t want to burn the forest again, even if it could be a shortcut. It would certainly reduce the number of steps. As convoluted as the plan was, it was tempting. Besides, I was sort of itching to face Purity again if she showed up. She''d win, but it felt like Tack''s efforts were closing the gap. My split focus decided to forgo fighting the assassin to fight Tom, who displayed superior skills. Initially, I thought working up to Tom''s skills in a fight would serve us better. However, since Tack was using the fights to gain experience more than technique, he wanted the experience to come from the stronger fighter. It¡­ sorta made sense, so I allowed it. Who was I to question the inner workings of the mind anyway. "Do your people not worship Sogg or Selene back home?" I asked. "We have the All Mind, but that is it," Cal said. "And we''d never profane Alm''s name with the blasphemy." "Cal, was that your first?" "Heavens no. Just not so directly with a god before, whether or not they are real." "Oh, they are real." "You say that with such surety," Cal said, jogging to catch up once more. "I did not take you for a believer." "Belief has nothing to do with it. The gods are real, and every single one is a prick. From AO, who watches our suffering on his high throne, to the Deliverer doing AO''s bidding, thinking he''s carving out his own path for his empire. "Selene might be the exception and possibly the least likely god to exist. "The Deliverer, the High King, AO, Sogg, and all could burn in the moldy ashes of Selene''s foulest pit..." "Such animosity," Cal said. "More like directed aggression. Someone''s gotta take the blame for all the muck we deal with. Might as well be the incompetent leaders at the top. Sure makes me feel better that way." "I always believed in the All Mind," Cal said. "But I never figured he was real. I couldn''t ever picture his existence. As a child, I thought our moon was the floating mind where all our thoughts and knowledge returned to the source. That soured after watching the moon burn. I thought our god had been slain. It turned out it was another world my people had conquered for the glory of the All Mind. "Getting stuck in the loop for so many years led to many questions about the great source of power. "Could he even be real, and if so, what was the point of all the power he accumulated, and why was he letting his dedicated servants perish to beings that were so mindless? Had we been replaced? Did we do something wrong to invoke the wrath of our god?" "I learned that the gods have one purpose," I said. "No matter the gods or the fundamental beliefs. They are all tied to one thing. Power. In the end, that''s all that matters. It is the cause of the problems and the solution. We need it, the Gods demand it." "Alm never cared for power. All it cared for was knowledge." "Why?" I asked. "What do you mean why?" "What good is all that knowledge? What is the point?" "With enough knowledge, the impossible becomes possible. Son of a¡­" Cal looked distraught. "Power. What a prick." The flayen fell into a spell of silence after that point. I tried to engage a few more times, but he wasn''t interested. Granted, my attempts were half-hearted. I felt a bit guilty for steering the conversation in this direction and muttered an apology. We wandered around the forest for the rest of the day. The further north we traveled, the less rain we faced. Once we reached the southernmost edge of the Bloodwoods, we turned around and began our travels anew. The forest remained consistent on our path. Towering trees, a light layer of undergrowth dispersed lightly, occasional rocks and low hanging branches to avoid, and hard compact ground. For the most part, the wildlife seemed to avoid us. We''d seen tracks and heard the song of birds but never saw animals or monsters. The lack of monsters was a bit peculiar. There was plenty of mana within the forest that it should create more spirit beasts, but aside from the wolfbears from the dungeon up north, we didn''t find any beasts. Cal''s silence eventually broke, and we held an engaging conversation for the rest of our travels until we ended up north, back at the dungeon. I had a strong hunch that the dungeon was where Tom dwelled. Only, it didn''t seem like a place he would dwell. It probably was the first place I should''ve checked, but then I would''ve missed out on the pilgrimage with Cal. Besides, I really didn''t want to return to the dungeon. I''d spent enough time there in previous loops. Alas, it was time. 2.6. Back to the Dungeon The dark dungeon was just as I remembered it. Dark, foul, and full of bugs. The foulness might''ve been in part due to my attitude. That was somewhat lifted when all the damn crawlers froze upon touching my domain. It didn''t matter how many times I wiped the fiends out, the cold fires of my burning justice would not be dispelled. We chose to linger in the dark cavern just past the entrance. It was the only dungeon section we hadn''t searched as thoroughly as the rest. To be fair, it was dark and filled with creepy crawlers. Their frozen nature did little to nothing for their hospitality? That wasn''t the word¡­ likeliness? Coolness? I dropped the thought and focused on scouring the dark. My domain and aura were pushed out as far as they could reach; my domain stretched about twenty-five yards, and my aura was around a hundred. Cal scouted ahead, trying to find the end of the darkness. Besides the infernal residents, the problem with the dark room was that it never seemed to end. The darkness sprawled for eternity as we traveled south. There were odd workings at work. My guess was either the dungeon was up to some tricks, or Tom had created a spatial rune of running us amok. We traveled in the darkness for what seemed like days. I even enlisted the help of two of my splits to watch my aura. They checked for any signs of the grounder''s existence, tracks, displaced rocks¡­ anything that would point to some life other than the critters. Our expedition in the dark felt more pointless than our wandering in the forest, which made my wasted efforts feel much less wasted. Had we not searched the outside as thoroughly as we did, we''d given up on the darkness long ago. "Hey, Tom," I finally called out. The darkness had no end. We were getting nowhere fast. "You there? I''m a¡­ friend." "By that, he means stop hiding so we can fight, or we are going to burn down the forest and drain all its waters." Cal remained high in the air, away from any earth. "Tom?" I called again. "We have a message from the trees," Cal said, further prodding. I disagreed with his antagonizing efforts, but there was a good chance we were just yelling into the dark. It couldn''t help. "They said your son is a real moss licker and has a bastard tongue. "Cal." I didn''t know what that meant and had a feeling, nor did the flayen. But even if we were just yelling into the void, that felt like he was pushing too hard. The whole point was to not stir up trouble. We certainly hadn''t ''cultivated'' enough of an apology that if the grounder took offense to the words, we could absolve ourselves from the accusations. "It was mostly true." "Cal, you never met the lad." "No, but I meant his namesake. He''s a tart licker too and the reason Tom Jr. is a sappy bastard." That seemed to upset the earth, which rumbled with indignation. It was a subtle sensation that Cal adeptly ignored via flight. "The trees have been talking¡­" The rumble turned to a low growl, the kind a predator gave warning a fellow predator that it was stepping on dangerous ground. "Cal," I called my companion. Ice armor covered my body, and my domain hardened as I searched for the grounder. My two split joined in the task, giving me extra focus. There were no signs of the grounder except for the ground warning me we were stepping on dangerous grounds. I kept my hands to my side as I grabbed two rune bombs from Lana''s spatial ring. "They think you''re a real birch¡­ and a terrible guardian." The earth roared as it sent rolling waves to knock me over. Which felt like an overreaction. "That was a stretch," I said to Cal, trying to maintain my balance with a foundation of ice. "Well, there''s only so many tree insults. Actually, probably only that one. Ash loved it. She was a real tree. Not like all those imposters out there that are full of themselves. For all of their grandstanding, they sure don''t offer much resistance. A tiny spark and the whole forest burns. I''ve seen deserts with more impressive flora. These withered willows can''t even hold their own¡ª" Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Cal didn''t get to finish whatever he was going to say. The earth raised up into a massive hand that swatted at the bird. I dropped a rune at my feet and threw the other at the swinging earth hand. The falcon exploded in a shower of ice just as my rune hit the hand. Darkness seeped out from the runes, mixing with the ambient soft energy and silencing the earth. "Sog''s breath," a low voice said behind me. "He was supposed to dodge." "It''s dark," I said. I waved my hand in the dark cavern for emphasis. "He''s a bird," the voice said. "Made of ice." "He spoke like a real fowl." ¡­I could only nod in agreement. I didn''t talk to many birds, but they tended to squawk. "Sorry for the rudeness," I said. "Eh," said the grounder, waving off my apology. "Who''re you, and what''s with the ice?" "I''m Kip, and the ice block is my frozen body." I had no reason to dance upon the truth. "We''ve met before. You told me to come find you in the ground." The grounder laughed for a good moment. "I told you to find me in the ground, and that led you here?" "No, not initially." A wisp of cyan mana fluttered as I summoned Cal. The act kept Tom on edge until he realized what I was doing. It was expected of summoners to revive their companions when they could. He was put back at ease when he saw Cal''s tentacle face. "We walked around the forest for a day or so. After meandering for enough time, we decided to take our chances with the dungeon." "How''d ya find the dungeon." Tom held his skepticism. "It is not like you keep it well hidden," Cal said, in flayen form. The mind cultivator looked torn between getting closer and keeping a safe distance. His curiosity got the better, and he took a couple steps closer. He didn''t seem to care that we were surrounded in darkness with an extra layer of darkness from the runes I popped. "You covered it with leaves. Anyone looking for a spring in the woods would stumble upon it. "Not anyone," the grounder said, taking a step back. "Kip here is a tour guide, or was a tourist guide." "More of a cartographer that went on paid tours," I said, somewhat annoyed that I felt it was necessary to correct the small details. Especially since I used the term to describe my services. Maybe the emphasis the flayen put on the words made them seem off. "You''ve mapped these woods?" Tom asked, looking impressed. "Yeah." "That is a stretch." "Cal, you working with me or against you." "Yes." "I know where the springs are and have been to this dungeon before." Tom gave me a questioning look, and his hands fidgeted at his side. "I followed a pack of wolfbears here. They were drawn out because of some fighting that happened outside. When they got their fill, they hurried home. Which led me to the dungeon." "The Pond¡ª" Tom''s questioning look turned to panic in a flash. "Is fine. The fighting was between separate groups and happened far from your town. I''m surprised you didn''t notice it." "I''ve been¡­" Tom paused, looking for his following words carefully. "Busy." "Hiding in the dark?" Cal poked with his question. "Seems¡­ strange." "There''s been lots on my mind." Tom hunched over and placed his thick tan hand on the ground, letting it rest there. ''I sought the cavern for some peace and allowed myself to push through the next realm. Unless the forest complains, I don''t hear much here." Tom straightened and dusted his hand on the side of his pants. "So what brings you here." "You," I said with a friendly pointing gesture at Tom. "A Jester is following me, and I need help." "Aon''s bleeding pits," Tom said, taking my measure with a heavier look. "Why would they be after you? No offense." "None taken," Cal said. We stood in the dark for the next several minutes while I explained the problem of the exiled princess being my girlfriend and the Jesters hunting me to get to her. I also took the time to explain that I met Tom before and was impressed with his skills. Since I was trapped in the forest with assassins hunting me when I left, I needed to get stronger while I was here. However, I''d hit the limit of growth in the forest, hence trying to leave to find further training. Tom took my explanations in stride. It helped that he seemed to have a deep-rooted hatred for the Court of Jesters. Showing him the princess'' ring also helped. The stocky grounder scratched at his head. "Hmm. I think I believe you, but I want to think about this. In the meantime, I want you to clear the first floor of this dungeon." "Easy," Cal said, practically flying away even though he was still in flayen form." "Using only physical weapons," Tom added. "If I''m gonna train ya, I need to get your measure first." "Can''t we just fight? And what do you mean by the first floor?" "After you run the dungeon, we can fight and talk some more." The grounder touched the ground again and gave a satisfied smile. He grabbed a handful of dirt and scattered it in my direction with a flick of his wrist. The fangless highlander laughed as a band of stone formed around my wrist. "No cheating," he said and vanished into the ground. "Soggy Bollocks," Cal said, kicking the dirt. Even though we entered the dungeon, we weren''t anticipating a dungeon run. The fact that we were bound to only our weapons made it much worse. I was great with a bow and decent with a sword. However, in the last few loops, my mana skills outpaced my physical skills. What would''ve been a quick run through the dungeon was now going to take time and effort. Soggy bolls, indeed. 2.7. Mind VS Dungeon Snowpiercer formed in my hand as Beaks, and I walked out of the darkness. The stone band around my hand felt extra heavy as I planned for the challenge ahead. I had skills with weapons, but I wasn''t confident I could clear out the dungeon with those skills alone. As I stood at the entrance to the underground jungle, thoughts played through my head. How would I clear this floor with only my weapons, and what did Tom mean by the first floor? That meant there were other floors, right? Or was he implying that each of the sections was their own floor? That would mean there were three or four floors if the bugs counted as a floor. It was the last thought that discouraged the idea. If the bugs counted as a floor, they''d logically be floor one¡­ which was already cleared. No, all the separate rooms on this level must belong to floor one. So I had to fight a jungle full of monsters, a den of wolfbears, and a templar rank bugbear with just my weapons. Which brought me back to my first thought. How? Fortunately, I''d been through this dungeon. Several times now. With mana, I had no problem clearing this floor. Experience wasn''t the only advantage I had. I could tackle the dungeon as many times as I wanted until I was successful. Only I didn''t intend to waste the lives with multiple loops. Cal''s memory wiper was still at play, and I didn''t want to risk losing more memories. I had a better option available, and I''d exploit it endlessly. **** Tack wasn''t stoked about the new simulation¡ªwell¡­ he didn''t like sharing the simulation with all the other splits, to be more precise. He was quite excited for the chance to test out his combat skills against the challenge. It just didn''t feel like the other splits had any business taking part in his specialty. To be fair to Tack, with only the limited time he spent training, he was already leagues ahead of the rest regarding weapons. The weapon-focused mind threw himself at the first floor hundreds of times. His first attempts were with the sword alone. The challenge was a skill issue, and any failure resulted from a skill gap. A gap he was happy to fill with dozens of experiences. I watched Tack cut through hundreds of trees, beasts, and monsters in the forest. However, despite the swordsman''s stubborn attempts, the problem became clear early on. There were just too many foes, and my current strength didn''t allow Tack to power through the situation. So, while it was a skill issue, it was more a lack of power, strength, and speed than technique. The difficulty wouldn''t be so high if it were only a handful of foes. Tack could kill them quickly enough and then move on to the next pack. My split diligently stuck with his path. He killed promptly and efficiently. Eventually, he made it all the way to the tree boss of the jungle zone, Gulley and Vines. The rooty tree stump called minion after minion to overwhelm the swordsman. Tack was driven to win. Each failure fueled his next attempt, where he would fight longer, honing his skill and bridging the gap. The split cut through the first stage of the boss fight, shredding the throaty tunnel into splinters, and made it several minutes into the second stage. Where Tack used brute force, Fender was more strategically minded. At first, I thought the defensive split focus would struggle more than Tack. All of its time was spent shoring up my mental defenses, and most of that time was spent conjuring monsters and upgrading their abilities. All good for the mental game, but would not help him here. Fender proved me wrong. The mind used a combination of bow, sword, and stealth attacks. Instead of rushing into the jungle head-on, Fender took his time blending into the jungle, finding his prey, and striking. It took him longer to clear the smaller foes but allowed him to reach Gulley with fewer attempts than Tack. Fender''s first attempts at Gulley and Vines resulted in quick failures. The tree stump had a high constitution, strong mid-range attacks, several area-of-effects, and the ability to call minions. He adapted to the boss fight and tried several different strategies. To the defensive split, the boss wasn''t a source to hone its blade, it was a puzzle. One that must have a simple solution. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Stealth attempts turned into wild endeavors to pit the entire jungle against the boss root. To my surprise, Fender succeeded on its seventh coup attempt, bringing down the tunnel and angry tree inside in a riotous battle. The split''s victory didn''t last long. The minions used to fight the boss swarmed Fender and put an end to the trial run. A new run started immediately after his fall with a little more focus on loyalty. In a way, Fender treated the monsters of the jungle like his own creations. I wasn''t sure if I employed that technique if Tom would approve. Then again, I was still clearing the forest, and just because Fender used the monsters for most of its power, didn''t stop it from firing arrows and slicing limbs. It was just a little less than what Tack was doing¡­ a lot less. Still, no mana was used, which was very impressive and the only limitation I''d been given. Cult turned out to be the biggest surprise of the split minds. I had no expectations for my cultivation-focused split. After all, it was not focused on strategy or improving physical combat skills. Instead, it was focused on improving my pathways and strengthening my mana techniques. None of which would help the split in this trial. The fact that it started the trial meditating also caused reason for doubt¡ªalthough it should''ve proved otherwise since that was precisely what I was doing. Maybe it felt like too much of a waste of thought or a conflict of interest. If I was meditating on my split minds and one of my splits was also meditating, what was it meditating on and was it on a higher plane of thought than me? Despite my doubts, I let Cult do his own thing. I was glad to be proven wrong and a bit foolish. The problem with the split minds'' attempts was that they worked individually at the problem, attempting to achieve success in their own way. It should''ve been evident from the start. Fender approached the problem like it was trying to break through a defensive structure. Tack acted like the challenge was meant to improve its sword skills. Neither of which coordinated with the other splits or thought to work together. To Cult, the singularity was absurd; they were all one mind. Cult studied the other minds'' attempts, absorbed their experiences, and sought ways to achieve success using all their expertise. Bringing the minds together proved the key to the first and second rooms. The cultivation split took Fender''s strategy one step further and brought the entire force of the wolfbears and ratkin into the battle of the jungle, where he stayed out of the main conflict and whittled down each of the opponents with bow and blade. Throughout Cult''s iterations, he learned to not pull too much aggro from the beast, and when he did, he quickly killed them with the sword or bow and retreated to a new obscure place. Following this technique, the jungle and the den were eventually cleared by Cult, who then focused on Lipper, the templar-ranked bugbear. The grounder put up a strong resistance. Like the earlier floors, fighting against the earth templar was brutal without mana. Even with Cults skills, it still failed multiple times. Not even luring Lipper out of her cave worked. She was too keen on destroying the intruder who disturbed her peace. It didn''t matter how many different ways Cult tried to implement the same strategy as before, the brute only wanted the invader''s blood. Thanks to the success of Cult in the first two rooms, the rest of my splits accepted defeat and focused solely on battling the grounder. Tack took on Lips with swords and might. The split dodged boulders, parried rocks, and tried to cut down the bugbear. He increased his skills with the sword through his hundreds of loops but only managed minor cuts on the foe. Fender tried his hardest to kite the templar. It took him several attempts before he was able to escape the rocky walls and entombing earth. The prolonged battles never amounted to much more than a long chase. Eventually, the split would run out of arrows and was forced to fight the grounder with a sword. At that point, it did no better than Tack. Cult tried to blend the two techniques once more. He would fire arrows and charge with the sword. Score a slice, retreat, fire, and repeat. It was flashy combat that took advantage of all of my agility and skills with the blade and bow. Still, it wasn''t enough. Lipper was a body-focused cultivator; she was stronger and faster than me in all physical aspects, and she had the might of earth on her side. In order to beat her I needed more power or skills. Power was limited, and so were my skills¡­ to an extent. Tom might not be my instructor yet, but that didn''t mean I couldn''t learn from him. At once, all of my focus abandoned the fight with the grounder. My mindscape turned to a blank room where all four of us watched the fight I had against Tom after reforging my mind. The sage managed to beat me without his mana, and I was going to learn how. 2.8. The Perfect Blade Tom was a bear of a man. Like all orcs, specifically highlander orcs, the brute was built physically thick. Bugbears were the only people larger than orcs and had a good foot on most orcs. That said more about the formidable size of the bugbears, which averaged eight and a half feet tall and over four hundred pounds, which was a good foot and a half taller and a hundred pounds heavier than the average highlander. Tom was closer to bugbears in size, and all of his size and weight seemed to multiply the force he could use to batter my attacks aside. I watched the grounder fight through my mana attacks hundreds of times. While I watched, my three splits tried to apply the fighter''s techniques. Cult hurled boulders of ice at Fender and Tack, who wanted to fight off the attack with their blade alone. Several days were devoted to learning Tom''s technique. On the surface, it looked like he was brute forcing his way through my attacks. The more I watched, the more evident it became that there was more to his attacks. Sure, the man was strong and probably could knock my attacks aside with strength alone. However, his motions were flawless and unhindered by my ice. It was almost like mana parted from his ax and bounced off his shield. There were no traces of mana on his weapons, as far as I could tell. I couldn''t see any dispelling runes on them either. The mystery became my obsession. Two more days passed in my mindscape, which meant that I''d spent, in total, over two days meditating. If Tom was watching my trial, he''d surely be unimpressed. I barely gave the thought any attention. I was close to a breakthrough. I just needed to keep watching Tom''s technique and have my splits practice. Another full day passed in the material realm. The last two days were spent dissecting the most minor elements of my fight with time and watching him repel my attack from every angle. It was this close scrutiny that led to my breakthrough. Tom wasn''t implementing any fancy technique. The mad lad just had perfect execution of a basic ax swing. The same was true for his shield skill as well. The highlander was just good at chopping and blocking. My mind nearly exploded by the simplicity of the notion. I wasn''t frustrated though. Quite the opposite. It wasn''t a fancy technique that I was missing. I just needed to perfect a basic sword slice. I watched Tom through a new lens of understanding. As I watched, I became more sure of my enlightenment. Suddenly, the path forward became simple and yet much longer. I directed my splits to practice a simple cut with the sword repeatedly. My sword kata became a repeated one-step process of a downward slice. A simple dance that lasted until the end of my loop. At the beginning of the next loop, I jumped back into my mindscape and practiced my new kata with my splits until the loop ended¡ªonly pausing to ensure Icy''s safety. With my body safely stashed, I jumped back into training. In the next loop, I created three more splits and engaged them in the same activity as the rest of us. Perfecting our sword slice. It was three loops later that I gained fundamental insight into the blade. The sword was only a blade. It was a tool that was acted upon. The sword didn''t cut unless there was a force compelling it to. I was the force behind the cut. It wasn''t enough for the sword slice to be perfect; my intent, or rather my will, had to be perfect as well. In a sense, I had to infuse the blade with my will. I spent another loop practicing the basic slice, seven minds infusing each attack with pure focus. The technique had been so finely ingrained into me that the motion was basically a reflex¡ªalmost as effortless as breathing. It was at this point my perception of the sword slice expanded. The direction of the blade didn''t matter. I could slice down, up, across, or diagonally as long as I kept my technique tight and my will focused; it was the same. The fact that it took me so long to comprehend basic mechanics didn''t bother me, nor did the time I devoted to the task. Mastery wasn''t the ability to perform hundreds of techniques. Rather, it was the ability to execute one technique perfectly hundreds of times¡ªI was on the path of progression, and that was enough. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. It was the ninth loop inside my mindscape that I felt a change in my sword strike. The air cracked with a crisp pop as I started into my sword kata. It continued to crack with each slice of the blade. A smile crested my lips. I ran through the kata several more times, ensuring the same result every time. Outside of my mental realm, I calmed my nerves. It was one thing to perfect my form in my mind. It was another to execute the slice in the material realm. I took a deep breath, summoning a sword of black ice. The blade felt as familiar in my hand as it did in my mind. I exhaled and loosened my shoulders. With my legs in a proper position, I raised my sword, holding it with both hands and sliced it downward. The air distorted around my blade as it cut down. It seemed like the air was desperately trying to escape the edge of my sword, almost afraid that it would be severed if it remained. As my blade cut through, the air rushed to its original position, causing a familiar crackle as the energy collided with itself. My smile widened as I performed the rest of my kata to the music of cracking air. I closed my eyes in satisfaction at the end. It took nine loops and over two years of studying, but I finally mastered a basic sword slice. Chasing the high I had just experienced, I readied myself for another kata. New Sword Skill: Perfect Slice The words flashed through my mind''s eye, interrupting my personal celebration. They were a bit strange, obtrusive, and had a hint of Calypso to them. As much as I wanted to continue cutting the sky, I couldn''t stop thinking of the intrusive message. It wasn''t like Cal was talking to me, either. It was like he was sending me a message. But why? What for? Did he also have to be so bold when a simple hello worked before? I entered my mindscape once more to find my companion. Only, he wasn''t there waiting for me like usual. "Cal," I yelled out. Silence was the response. "Cal." Still silence. I rushed through all of my mind searching for the flayen. He was nowhere to be found. I was somewhat worried and sat in his study, somewhat perplexed. A crash of books to the side of me shook me from the stupor. I looked over and expected to see Cal. Instead, there was only a pile of books on the floor. A careful glance revealed a hint of Cal''s foreign energy around the books. However, the energy signature was so slight, I could barely trace it. An uneasy feeling washed over me as ill thoughts flooded in. Was Cal in danger¡­ was I? No, my mind defense had been tested against the best of the flayen invasion force. Then reinforced, tested, and retested by Fender. There was no risk here. Energy wisped over my shoulder, hugging tight to my body. I swiped at the faint energy, trying to capture it or push it away. It worked. The wisp shot across the room and vanished. I searched Cal''s study for a moment longer, finding no hint of the foreign energy. "Cal," I called out one more time. "Was that you? You OK? Want to talk about it?" Minutes passed. There was no response. Aside from the fallen books in Cal''s study, the room was immaculate. It was just one of the several rooms I built for my parasite. He practically had his own castle, complete with an aviary. Cal wasn''t as enthused with that room as I was¡­ at least not initially. The study was the latest room I created for him. This was his request. He said he wanted to fill it all with his knowledge. However, he asked that I keep out of the books. The mind cultivator was keen on keeping his work private. He assured me that his projects were for my benefit. Privacy was a concern, but I decided to go with it. It helped that Cal never kept me out of his study. Instead, he invited me to join him while he worked meticulously on his project. With the turn of events, I wondered if I could find answers to Cal''s vanishing in his books. Perhaps it was the fallen books where I''d find the answers. Selene''s Abyss, it was probably Cal knocking the books down so that I would know where to start. I took one step closer to the pile of books and stopped. This was a trap, for sure. One of those trust moments. "Cal, you can come out now. I''m not gonna look at your books. I don''t care what naughty novels you delight in." Nothing. "Look. A lot of my splits have been talking¡­ This is starting to get weird." The shelf to my left crashed to the ground, causing a loud ruckus. I turned to the chaos just as another shelf crashed. Before I could turn, the rest of the study fell apart. "Sog''s sour sow," I cursed under my breath. My feet backpedaled as I retreated from the mess, hoping I left no trace of my presence. I might''ve passed the test, but it certainly didn''t look like it. I needed to gather my alibis. I cursed once more. What was supposed to be an easy quest to fetch information had turned into a mystery that I wanted no part of.