I entered the Spell tab and went to Moxle Dilation, finding a string of words I couldn’t pronounce.
"Will you help verbalize this?" I asked. "Or do I have to buy a reading skill?"
"I can, actually," Lithco replied. Suddenly, the forest split as if it were a painting being ripped open like a t-shirt, exposing a void of blackness behind it. From that darkness, Lithco erged, crumpling the world under his fingers. Then he walked out, pulling the ripped parts of the world back together like he was closing curtains, and then smoothed it out. The whole scene was eerie, surreal, and disorienting.
"If you keep doing things like that, I’ll think this is a simulation," I said.
"Why would that matter?" he asked, pulling out a chair and sitting. "Even if it were, you’d still want to survive and do your best, no?"
"Stop the bullshit."
"If you insist. Now… will you sit? I can only speak the words with you, so all other inquiries will be t with crude apathy. I wouldn’t want to ruin your mood."
I glanced behind Lithco and saw the grass bending in tiny craters. Only then did I realize Kline’s outline in active camouflage, silent and deadly, as he snuck up on Lithco from behind.
"I know you’re there Kline," Lithco said dryly.
Kline’s form turned to , and I could feel his eyes on . I could almost hear his thoughts: You alerted him? Have you betrayed , or are you just a fool?
"No offense," Lithco said, "but you’re only using a second-tier spell. You might as well be wearing a reflective vest to a third evolution creature." Lithco pulled out a steaming cup of tea out of nowhere and sipped it.
I looked at Kline slink off dejectedly and then looked at Lithco’s cup. "You’re a total asshole," I said.
"I am what you made ," Lithco said dryly. "Now would you like to learn magic, or shall I co back later?"
"Whenever you’re ready…" I said, adding, "prick" under my breath.
Lithco sighed. "Repeat after . Kyma ton palíon psychón…" The recital took over an hour for a single pass, but as I entered the zone, I was able to snap with the language. I was still fresh with my mana manipulation gains and that feeling of connectedness with the tapestry.
The sounds outside slowed to a crawl, and when I opened my eyes, I could see falling leaves gliding down thin air like molasses running down a spoon. Kline was practicing Warp Step with his mana core, and he was mid-blink. For the first ti, I could see the portal opening—and the second one forming in the forest. If we were fighting, I could see where to strike, but I could barely move my eyes enough to keep up.
"Now the acceleration spell," Lithco said beside , moving and speaking normally as if ti hadn’t slowed, "Arkhízei na kinéitai…"
I started the second layer of chanting, and my brain almost cracked. The mana flows were clashing together and it hurt my channels. It was like rubbing your stomach, patting your head, and solving world peace. If I hadn’t learned how to do sothing similar the night before, I would have failed.
Yet I had the answer.
In that state of concentration, I put up my hand to pause Lithco and added a word of my own.
Apokálypsis.
Suddenly, the nickna I gave to the pattern for threading mana I pulled from the tapestry flooded into my body, creating sothing closer to what I was supposed to create. Instead of the two manas clashing in an insurmountable wall, it was like there were dozens of broken pipes that were sending mana jutting around in inefficient directions—but they worked.
Focusing on that pattern, I nodded, and Lithco started chanting. Slowly yet surely, the broken pipelines started patching themselves together, moving to create a flow of mana that weaved the two. It was extrely taxing and just felt—off. Doing it without the elixir was the equivalent of trying to breathe with a boulder on your chest.
It was frustrating.
Yet that feeling was still there. My body rembered how it generally worked and how it felt to do it correctly. So my mind adapted far faster than I thought it should have, and soon, I had made a crude connection. I spent the next two hours improving it, but it was there.
At so point, I realized that Lithco was long gone, and the chanting had ended. That ant that I had learned the spell. There would be years, decades, or even centuries before I could master it, but I learned it enough to use it.
Surprisingly, I didn’t feel like my brain was over-taxed as well.
Is that normal? I thought as I cut the connection. I heard that it was supposed to be hard on the mind, but I had been doing it for hours. I guess I’ll figure it out.
"Kline…" I said as I opened my eyes. My little warrior turned his head to , only a foot away from my body in the grass. He was keeping watch. It ward my heart.
Kline owed as if to say, Get on with it.
"I learned so magic that’ll help us run faster, you wanna practice?"
Kline’s lips curved up in a creepy smile. Then he leapt to his feet, stretching his limbs as he stared at , weaving back and forth, raring to go.
I smiled at Kline’s enthusiasm. It was bittersweet. "I can’t run yet. I just wanna watch your movents. See if I can keep up."
He shrugged and started zagging backward, moving faster than I could see with my normal eyes. He just seed like an orange blur, moving on the ground.
Alright, let’s do this… I thought. Then I began the chant to just get started—get into the groove. My world slowed, allowing to see Kline moving like "normal." Slower, I thought. I pressed on with the skill, and soon, I could see him moving in slow motion, bending grass as he landed, sending plant matter flying in the wind. It was straining, but I could see it.
Kline noticed my focus because he jumped out of the way, moving to my flank. I tried to whirl around, but my body wouldn’t listen. Damn it! I swore. Second spell.
I read Apokálypsis! and suddenly, my brain felt like it was splitting—but I could do it. My eyes followed Kline, and my body moved as well. It was still slow and labored, but I could move.
Kline’s eyes widened in shock when I followed his movents. He jumped out of my periphery with a pounce, and even with slowed ti, he moved faster than I could follow. When I turned to him, he pounced on .
I panicked and accepted him into my arms, thinking he might bite . But he actually just jumped into my chest, so when I caught him, he started purring and rubbing against my arms lovingly.
I tried to playback, but my strained head suddenly cracked as if soone split my skull with an axe, and I started screaming and holding my head. The world sped up at an unbearable rate, the visual equivalent of soone cranking up the volu of sothing all at once, and the noise wasn’t much better. There was just too much information flooding in, and it was overwhelming.
Over taxation.
There were four serious warnings about it, but I didn’t think it would happen within seconds of starting the skill. Right now, it truly was a miracle skill—the ability to change certain death—but that’s all it was. I needed to work on ntal shielding imdiately. Yet… there wasn’t ti. It was the sixth day, and I wasn’t certain how much ti I’d have tomorrow. I’d need to ask.
Kline pawed , eyes welled with concern.
"It’s okay," I said weakly. "I just need to rest a mont."
I collapsed on the ground and listened to the sounds of the forest. Thankfully, it didn’t leave a lingering headache. I was sure that I could create so exotic dicine that perfectly healed headaches—
—but ti was running out.
"Looks like you’re my bodyguard a bit longer," I said to Kline with a bittersweet smile. "You okay with that?"
Kline owed.
"You’re the best. Let’s look for those spores." That would be a challenge. I was growing too accustod to using the easy button to take to my target plants. So I figured that I would hike to the area where my book told they were located, cross-referencing with my detailed atlas, and then ask for help if it beca too ti-consuming.
So that’s what we did.
Kline hiked through the forest, stepping over fern and ground cover and winding through a pathless forest. Areswood Forest was relatively dry and full of sunlight but sohow contained the vitality of a temperate rainforest. The ferns felt like sothing out of a Triassic Era dinosaur movie, moving toward my neck with razor-sharp leaves, preparing to spread their spores.
Kline had learned to walk beside , watching my eyes as I telepathically communicated—as humans and animals can often do—which plants were poisonous.
I wonder if there’s a skill to share the highlighting with Kline, I thought. That would be extrely convenient.
I did see a beast-taming skill set but didn’t look at it because I didn’t like the word ta. Kline was my partner, not my pet in my eyes. So I pushed it off. That said, it would be invaluable to share my knowledge with him.
And so the trip continued, hiking through the forest, winding between lethal plants, taking slow steps. Our destination wasn’t far away from the alchemy station, about three miles uphill, which was, to say, a four-hour hike through hell. In case I haven’t reminded you lately, I still didn’t have a boot, but I increasingly forgot about that. After eating at from the reiga, my skin had hardened like it was covered with steel calluses. I could still feel if I willed myself to feel, but I had a feeling that my shoes were becoming exceedingly worthless. So, in a very surprising and perhaps foolish decision, I took the second one off to remove the limp that made running awkward and difficult. It was ti to live like a mountain woman.
That said, I would still search my skills for so type of body enhancent, and you could bet your sweet ass I was going to order so clothing the minute this trial ended.
But first—I had to survive that long, and statistically speaking, it wouldn’t be long before things got harder.
—and they did. Oh, yes, they did.
For the first ti since the albino elk, we encountered higher-level beasts on the way to the fungus’s area. I knew they were there because Kline’s ears twitched, and he tugged on my jeans. I stopped, and he faded into nothingness, disappearing under the cloak of complete silence.
Then I waited, once again, trying not to rember the last ti—rember what shape Kline was in when I finally joined him. Yet this ti, I didn’t have to wait five minutes for hell to break loose.
Beasts that barked like angry, laughing hyenas broke the soundwaves, imrsing in a feeling of dread. There wasn’t just one, but a dozen—way too many for Kline. And they were fast. The speed they were moving made every other cackle distort as if they were teleporting.
There’s sothing wrong… I thought. Subconsciously, I reached for my chest. Nymbrel.
A bow materialized as if it were an illusion, yet once it was in my hand, it beca solid and smooth, feeling like smoothed bone under my grip. The golden ancient runes on it glowed dimly, connecting the geotric magical circles on it. A string of pure mana connected both ends.
This was Nymbral, the epic-grade soul weapon.
It was part of , attached to my soul, allowing to think and use it subconsciously, like a limb, even though I couldn’t use it effectively.
I had never shot a bow. I was warned that I’d be lucky to hit anything.
But it was sothing.
I would run so that Kline could teleport into my shadow. I wouldn’t fight unless absolutely necessary.
But it was sothing.
And judging by the speed these creatures were moving—a speed far faster than I could run—sothing was a whole lot better than nothing.
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