Sigmund did not have to wait long for Elder Ryan to return. He strolled into the tent as if he owned the place. Perhaps he did. He turned to Elder Reginald. “So, how did he do?” Elder Reginald hesitated before speaking. “His refining methods were crude and his talent as an alchemist is at best average for our standard.” He paused for a long second before continuing. “However, for someone with his background, his talent is among the best. Perhaps he could go far with proper education. It will depend on his own dedication.” Elder Ryan nodded. “However, there is something amiss with him,” Elder Reginald added. Elder Ryan Raised an eyebrow. “Explain yourself.” “With his talent, he should have been able to invent the energy of the core into his potion within a few minutes, if even that. However, it took him almost half an hour to do it. I can only think of a few reasons as to why. That’s why I called him average.” Elder Ryan narrowed his eyes, and two Spiritual Sense locked onto him
Chris tossed and turned in her sleep. Images flashed through her mind. Her hiding behind a tree trunk. Sword rising and falling, her mother’s head rolling to the ground. A contrast colour of red spilling into the green of the grass. Her mother’s body dropping lifelessly. Her brother torched in a roaring fire. Him, demanding her to follow him to his death. Following her, cursing her for abandoning him. For not leaving with him. For not understanding his pain before it was too late. Chris’s eyes opened. She didn’t flail around; she didn’t scream—she simply woke up panting for breath. Chris shivered, and it had nothing to do with the chill of the dying night. She had buried her memories deep in her soul. It had been a long time since it resurfaced in her nightmares. These memories were best left forgotten. Looking around her tent, she noticed Rina snoring away. Ignoring the woman, she walked out of the tent. It was almost dawn, so there was no point going back to sleep. Instead, she cou
Edwin walked out of Elder Ryan’s tent, satisfied with himself. He had impressed the Elder with his swordsmanship, and the Elder even tasked him to train a few recruits with swords for ten sect points an hour. The Elder had also warned him about Dwelling, and he would follow that advice—even though he itched to learn more about his powers. He was curious, but not stupid. Now, he had a clear schedule until they arrived at the Aether tribe. The first and most important one was to train Jimmy with his target. Edwin was both surprised and pleased to find out over the next week that he had an obvious talent with it. “You are incredible,” Edwin praised his brother. Jimmy beamed at him. *** Edwin walked among the assembly of all twenty recruits. He corrected their posture, gave them advice to fix their mistakes, and praised those who were exceeding expectations. None of them made any scene or voiced any complaints—they only asked the relevant questions. Edwin knew why. Elder Ryan had m
Edwin woke up in a room in what he thought was a healing ward. The last time he passed through the teleportation formation, he had come out with sharp wounds throughout his body. This time, there was no sign of wounds. Only, his soul felt exhausted, as if he had run a marathon twice over. There was very little in the room aside from twenty beds separated by white curtains. A table beside each bed contained apparatus, which he thought had medical purposes. There was a pitcher filled with some kind of elixir he did not know about on the table next to his bed with an instruction for him to drink a glass of it every two hours. He found all of his companions in the same room. Jimmy and Chris were already up and running. Even Rina was already up. The only person still unconscious was Sigmund. Even though he found not a single speck of dust in his body. Edwin felt filthy. So, he asked an attendant about a bath house who generously gave him the direction but instructed him to come back for
Linden ducked to the side, dodging the distortion of force that looked like a simmering edge of a blade. Of course, that attack would not have wounded him that badly. Tim would never attack him with something that could endanger his life.His Fate Perception screamed danger, and he dodged another three blades of pure force that produced sharp cuts in the arena. Linden was getting nowhere with this fight. There was no progress. Fighting against Tim was like trying to hit an elephant with a rotten stick. Pointless! Their advancement realm was too far apart for this fight to be worth anything. But he had no other choice. His previous experience with the Assassin taught him fighting against anyone else was inviting his own death. Either way, he could not fight with someone that would allow him to progress further.Linden felt Tim setting up another attack. It was worthless.Linden threw his sword away. “Enough,” he said. “This is getting me nowhere. Even if ten of me were fighting against
Linden’s guards and his father fanned out, circling the forest. He walked straight into the forest, following the direction on the map. His first destination was a nest—home to two or three beasts. It didn’t take Linden long to find the monsters. The monsters perched on a nest on the ground made up of broken branches under the canopy of trees. The bird-like beast had a thin, elongated neck. A head hardly the size of Linden’s fist crowned its neck. It had two long legs with heavy talons—that could probably cave in his ribs with a single kick. The plumage on its black bulbous body was a cluster of bladed feathers—sharp as knives. A simple spiritual scan told Linden the largest of the birds was in the Elementary realm with the fire aspect core. The two other birds were in the Ordinary realm and their core had yet to mature, so they wouldn’t be able to use any fire-based attacks. It took humans and vampires about fifteen years to mature their cores, and only a few months for monsters. ‘
What kind of neck was that? No matter—Linden told himself. The sword was old and ordinary, barely invested with the power of Blood Core. The sword was only good for practice anyway, not for battle against the monster at the peak of the Elementary Realm. He threw the useless sword away and popped another blood pill into his mouth. He circulated his Drogen to the extreme, at the edge of it becoming painful, any more than that, and he would shatter his meridians. Linden dashed past the bushes and branches, pouncing on the monster. He dodged each of the flaming projectiles that barred his path. His fate perception made it easy. It was a time like this that made Linden want to kiss Riot for choosing him. If only she didn’t have that… personality. Linden pivoted, evading the flaming monster’s lunging kick. He swallowed the blood pill in his mouth and grabbed the beast by its neck. The flame surrounding the beast flared to greater life as a defensive measure. The fire engulfed Linden, y
Edwin absent-mindedly picked a cookie-shaped snack from the stall and shoved it into his mouth. It was crunchy and spicy rather than sweet and crunchy, which was a pleasant surprise.“Edwin? Doesn’t this remind you of all the bass and parties back at Vancorg Tribe?” Chris said between a mouthful of snacks Edwin had no name for.Edwin grunted. He wouldn’t know, would he?—he had never engaged in them. He eyed the room. There were too many people packed in the same room. It was claustrophobic.Instead of the strangers, Edwin focused on his friends for comfort. Sigmund was busy gorging himself with every strange snack he saw. He was acting like a street urchin dropped in a feast. Jimmy stood behind him like a bodyguard ready to protect him—silent as ever.Rina was shaking hands with yet another stranger. They had just arrived at the tribe and the woman was already making deals and developing hordes of connection. What was the big deal, anyway? Were scripters really that valuable? Edwin di