Since the next morning, the days went by—by travelling and the nights by camping. Monsters never bothered them. At night Jimmy had to drink Sigmund’s potion to fall asleep, and each time sleep came a little later than before. Aside from his sleeping problem, the travel went on smoothly.On the third day of their travel, Jimmy finally finished cultivating with all the Blood Cores they had collected. Rohkov, his Metal Spirit, congratulated him. His advancement went smoothly. Nothing explosive happened. There was no explosion or burst of Drogen coming out of his body. He did not feel the rush of power. The only thing that changed was his core. It seemed just a tad brighter, if even that. It could just be his imagination. Jimmy opened his Stats just to make sure he had advanced.[Name: Jimmy Wright][Race: Vampire][Spirit: Hidden Metal—Rohkov][Spirit Ability: Metallic Push and Pull (Attract and Repel Metals)][Greater Realm: Foundation][Lesser Realm: Elementary][Realm Stage: None][Adv
A miniature figure, no bigger than his palm, zipped around across his vision. She screamed, and it was the same scream he had heard before. It was his name that she screamed in a tone that was frantic. Linden could not understand why, but somehow that scream seemed to rent at his heart. He should recognise that voice, he knew, but whenever he tried to reach for that recognition, it seemed to slip away from him as if he was trying to grasp at the air. It was so difficult to think. Memories faded. Memories he knew were dear to him. "Tim, you must hurry," The tiny humanoid figure said. "He won't last much longer. Linden, Please. You must not give up. You have to hold on, Linden. LINDEN." His vision faded, and with it, the pain. With the darkness came relief. Relief from the pain, relief from the responsibilities. He did not know he could fulfill. His relief seemed to last only for an instant, like a teaser to something you could never have. It was like a sick joke of a madman. Pain wre
Linden stood before his father's study. His father was in a meeting with an important person. Visits during such occasions by anyone were frowned upon. However, a visit by the Sect Master's son during emergencies was acceptable, especially when he was almost assassinated. He entered the room, and the guards announced him. His guard did not follow him. This room was a mirror to his mother's study. Back at the Tribe Hall. The room was a small one, considering it was used as a workroom by the sect master. A table sat in front of one wall, stacked with important documents. A self neatly occupied by books, scrolls, artefacts, and some burnished ornaments stood behind the table. Tapestries that captured the great heroic deeds hung on every wall. A golden green carpet with intricate embroidery covered the floor. "I cannot accept this," His father said to his guest holding a sword hilt that had no blade. They sat on a sofa that surrounded a glass tea table. His father looked up at him and
Rina groaned. Her skin burned. She was still healing from those long, sharp wounds that had marred her body. The healing potion she had taken had done wonders for her. Her wounds had faded into angry red rashes. However, the healing was still too slow for her comfort. It was perhaps the human kind's failings, no matter how fast you could heal, no matter how fast the pain faded—it wasn't fast enough. Pain was like that, she thought. Besides, humans were never satisfied with what they have. They always wanted more—she wasn't an exception to it, she knew.She hadn't expected a spatial jump to be so dangerous, and she was supposed to be most compatible with it, having a space core herself. Ignoring the burning pain throughout her body, she forced herself to get out of the tent. There were still recruits healing inside, their groans reverberating across the test. She didn't want to stay in such a depressing area for one more second.On her way to find Sigmund's group, she talked to a few el
It had already been three days since they had used the teleportation formation. Sigmund had spent these days helping the camp with small chores, but that only took a squat portion of his time. Every day he talked with people from other tribes, with different practices with herbs. Of course, he talked about herbs, exchanging information with them, and he had learned much, and he still had much to learn. There were herbs he did not know about, herbs that went by separate names in various tribes, and they used the herbs he knew about for differing purposes, in unique ways. He noted everything he learnt and his stock of Knowledge got broader after each discussion with these herbs enthusiasts. These last three days were among the best days of his life. His life had turned for the better ever since Jimmy and the others appeared in his life. He could never repay them for that, but he would try his best. Elder Ryan had been calling recruits one by one to his tent, and today was his turn. He
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