Two days had passed since N’Ïrk left the border outpost, and arrived to the prosperous City of Gould’Dïmïur.
He is staying in advance at the clean and vainglorious facilities of the Intercultural Academy.
The dissonance with the dirty and dangerous previous residence of N’Ïrk, is more than apparent, even in comparison to his hotown.
Still, after living in an outpost, the young man learned a couple of valuable traits that helped him to cope up with his new reality.
ntal Fortitude, Quick Adaptability, High Tolerance, and a really Open Mind to not oversee the possibilities and probabilities, because life is more tricky and traitorous of what anyone could ever expect or predict.
"Shö’Thöm".
The blue bolt of energy flies out from the ethereal rails over N’Ïrk’s gauntlets.
The strike hits a green forcefield coating a stone conical pillar, making appear a bright ethereal screen on top of the structure.
Shö’Thöm
Damage • 151 Prwnz
Speed • 3,250 Kiloters Per Hour
Penetration • 12 Plates
N’Ïrk continues practicing for fifty minutes, even when the sun will not co out in another four hours.
The immaterial barrier flickers, absorbing a last hit before the forcefield turns red.
Shö’Thöm
Damage • 155 Prwnz
Speed • 3,750 Kiloters Per Hour
Penetration • 15 Plates
N’Ïrk is a 19 year old young man that loves to see how much he can progress. And with the equipnt available in the Academy. He is not different than a kid in a candy shop that has almost no obstacles or limits to taste everything he lies his eyes on.
One of such devices, is the Scanner For Equipnt. It looks like a doorless huge microwave embedded in the gym’s wall. But his function is simple and amazing. Rating the item’s status to give an insight of how good or bad is the usage of the analyzed object.
The Tyrant’s Grasp
Exoticness • 3★ • ↑ 99.97%
"Almost four Novas. Nice!".
N’Ïrk moves from the training ground and goes out to the empty hallway, picking a bottle of coffee with milk from the spending machine.
The marvelous developnts of the Laidders Nation, are on an entire different scale, and N’Ïrk is more than grateful for all of them, especially the bathrooms and showers.
Hot water, soap, and shampoo are luxuries that aren’t possible to acquire in an outpost.
Conditioner, deodorant, lotion, and hair mousse. The young man had never heard of those.
But the highlight was his mistake of entering in a waxing parlor. Where the owner kindly removed N’Ïrk’s hair from his private parts.
Strangely, the woman who attended him, ntioned that the service would be on the house account, but in exchange he had to invite the woman’s niece on a date.
Seeing no problem, N’Ïrk accepted the offer, obtaining an acquittance, and a lot of advices in what to wear and how to comb his hair.
"I have a date on my birthday". Says N’Ïrk sighing with a nostalgic smile.
His cousins wouldn’t believe if he could told them, and unfortunately for him, he can’t.
N’Ïrk is the sole survivor of the Ignay’Thus, an old band of rcenaries that establish themselves and decided to forget their own past. Paying a dire price for such stupidity.
"I hope my date is not too crazy...". A stingy pain interrupts N’Ïrk, his eyes burning like if plasma would be poured directly into his sockets.
A thick layer of multicolored light begins hovering in front of N’Ïrk’s face, expanding quickly and enveloping his silhouette with the sa precision the Eneld would protect him.
The glow around him diminishes as the pressure increases, like if gravity itself was turned on by several folds. N’Ïrk’s resilient body and constant training to the point of being called «Vigorexic», turned out to be utterly aningless against the brutal assault of nothingness.
Then, as if it were a bad dream, calmness, absolute tranquility is felt by him, no pain, no dizziness, no crushed bones and no lting eyes.
On the contrary, N’Ïrk feels nimble, stronger, more focused and brimming with Empiric Energy like never before in his recently reached 20 years of life.
This is in great part due to the words his Grandfather said to him. «Always be truthful to yourself, and face the consequences». A mantra the young man truly takes at heart.
Blinking, N’Ïrk’s eyesight adapts to the new resolution in which he can observe, even zooming a bit if he focuses his gaze on a single point.
"Wow!. Is like being born again!".
Slowly, he finally pays attention to the floating screen he has dread to see since he opened his eyes on Dhägna’Hür.
N’Ïrk Ignay’Thus
Empiric Energy • [ 385 / 515 ]
Class • Kinkmancer
Level 0 • Growth • [ 0 / 50 ]
Candidates For Bonding • [ 0 / 5 ]
"What in the heck is a «Kinkmancer»?!, Do i control things like a Necromancer?. Or is more like a Pyromancer?. Though i wasn’t expecting my Storage Capacity of Empiric Energy to be this high!. 175 is already top notch. Hell yeah!. Training is going to go even harder now!".
During his celebration, N’Ïrk accidentally turns to see the gym’s watch. "Holy shit!. Is 8:40 already!".
Standing up from his idle state, N’Ïrk runs back to his assigned floor, cleaning his body with a quick cold shower, and returning to his lonely bedroom.
He sees his reflection on the mirror, noticing a dim change, his green irises are more bright.
Suiting up with a dark wine long-sleeved formal shirt under a black leather jacket, pants of the sa colour holded in place by a silver belt, and of course wearing his pride, slash, the gauntlets.
Ready to roll, N’Ïrk leaves the Intercultural Academy grounds and heads to the Train Station. Reaching his destination at 9:55.
A few minutes later arrives the owner of the waxing parlour. She is a mature woman with short height and black hair. Smiling placidly as she approaches N’Ïrk. "Good. I like punctuality in the future husband of my niece".
"I said i would be here before ten o’clock. I like to stick to my word, Mada".
"In that case, tell that one of this days, when i encounter my niece again, she will no longer be a virgin".
"I promise your niece will achieve her womanhood with my assistance... , Wait, What?!".
"Why the confusion?. You give your word. Right, young man?".
"I did. And with all my disrespect, Mada Throllüsath. That is a decision that should be disclosed only between your niece and ".
"She is here".
*Eh!*.
"What a pleasure to see you again my adorable niece, Gagk’Xannia". Says the mature woman as she gives a hug to the newcor lady.
"This is N’Ïrk Ignay’Thus, he is your date, have a lot of fun, is your birthday after all, so don’t mind his stupefied state, he is just stunned by your beauty"...
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