Support my main contracted novel and winner of Writing Prompts #26 - The Legendary Mage!
Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn!
https://www.webnovel.com/book/12013957905760805/Desolate-Mage%3A-A-Legend-Reborn!
* * * * *
A black haired boy was lying on rocky ground. All around him were mountains and more stones and rocks; as far as the eye could see. Interspersed, if one peered closely, they could make out black shapes - some humanoid, some misshapen nightmares - milling about; those of similar types grouping together to attack and devour other creatures.
And if one looked even closer, one would make out that there were dead bodies every now and then, scattered across the ground.
And every now and then, the bodies reduced - because they rose, mutated, killed and fell again - or were devoured.
The black haired boy opened his eyes; then sat up.
He was... Beautiful. Perfect. His skin shone like the reflective surface of a diamond refracting light. He rose to his feet, his perfect muscles rippling across his fully-matured body - not too bulky, and just the right build for his height. His only flaw might be his deep black irises; so deep that they seemed to swallow up even light and the very soul of the beholder...
Just then, a shadow covered him. It covered not just him, but the area 20m in every direction around him.
He looked up and saw a creature that looked like it had been sewn together out of human skin - and only their faces. But every face was still move, babbling, screaming, talking. It had what looked to be arms and legs; but was otherwise like a ball of flesh - one that was rolling towards him; eager to assimilate him as one more person lost in the hell of faces.
He looked around; and realised something.
(I don't remember anything...)
He blocked the creatures charge with his refined and delicate hand - with not a single hair going astray from the impact. Then he released an explosive beam of raw mana and blew apart the 60m tall monster.
The boy then looked north - he instinctively felt he should go that direction...
He looked around; and realised something again.
He was naked.
Covering his groin; the boy looked around for clothes he could wear.
* * * * *
It was the hour before dawn.
Snowie lay half-asleep on the porch of Lucius' second hut, dozing lazily in front of the smouldering fireplace. With her half-open eyes, she watched the dazzling movements of Sam as she stretched her body, standing on one leg with her hands pressed together in front of her chest - internalising her experiences from the eventful past weeks.
Less than 2 months ago, she had still been a bullied child; unable to fight back; and not willing to hurt the other children. Then she had fought what she now realised was a life-and-death struggle with Mrs Horn, the Horned Rabbit - which had probably been around level 5. She had learned how to instinctively move, avoid, attack and close the distance from sparring with the 2m long rabbit.
Even tougher was the encounter that same night against Shanzi. She had truly treaded the knife's edge - literally - between the grave and life. She had been forced to learn and adapt on the spot; copying his movements and integrating them into her own style of combat. And at the brink of death - Sam had shattered a metaphorical wall; and discovered her own way of martial arts.
Fighting against Stefan... That couldn't be considered a fight. But she did learn how to bypass mana reinforcement and other forms of defences. Though even her vibrations could be dampened; it still proved highly effective.
After that, Lucius taught her the simple circle-steps of Baguazhang; which she initially had just used by itself; or reverted to her own bestial footwork.
Against Reeve - neither alone had been enough. It was only the eureka moment of combining both forms of footwork that had given her the edge to beat him without relying on her stronger physique. A smarter person might have had the idea from the start - Sam was just happy to have ever thought of it; regardless of how long it took.
Then finally, or 2nd last - fighting the nightmare stalker. Enhanced, faster, stronger and regenerating, it was probably past the limits of what could be considered level 8 and entering the realms of an early-level 9 monster. It had taken the culmination of instincts, strength, speed, technique, martial arts and skills to prevail... And even her discovered natural ability of compressing her muscles and bones to release explosive power many times greater than what her body could cope with.
Even then, it had nearly not been enough. Reeve - and herself - would have both perished were it not for the Baron's recovery treasures.
She knew - she needed greater power; greater strength.
Sam's eyes snapped open. First, she needed to understand her own strengths, and where that placed her.
She released a flurry of palm-strikes, knife hands, punches and kicks at 90% of her strength; the resultant wind force enough to cause the leaves on the trees around her to rustle and fall; even though they stood as distant as 3m away. She continued for a good 15 minutes at maximum speed, moving with elaborate footwork mixed with unpredictable animal-esque moves within a self-defined circle 5m in diameter. When she finally stopped, even the ground beneath her was worn away and lower than the ground outside the circle.
She stopped, panting. Sweat dripped down her whole body; but she was still full of stamina. At least she had that natural advantage... Her punches and kicks had been so fast that the surface of her skin felt hot from the air friction. It made sense - she had been releasing attacks at a rate of 6-8 hits a second. Not light blows or quick jabs - but full-power metal-crushing blows.
Sam sensed every inch of her body - inside and out. She was rippling with power; more than 50% stronger than before she was bedridden. And her growth spurt had already made her another 25-30% stronger before that.
But it wasn't enough.
Despite the power and strength she had, she realised how much she was lacking.
Attacking skills. Technique. Movements. Footwork. Spells. Runes. Equipment. Divine blessings. Secret Arts. Talents. Bloodline skills.
She lacked in every single one of these areas; and thus Principal Snow had given her this evaluation: "Stats at level 1 as high as a level 12. But with your low combat multiplier, you'll probably only be able to take on level 9 monsters; but fall to a truly skillful level 6 opponent; whether they be a warrior, mage, assassin, priest... Because you just don't have the skills to support your excellent physique."
He had closed off by saying, "...With your insanely high essence needed to level up... You'll be level 3 when others are already level 15-20... You can't rely on your stats alone; not when they too will be enhancing AND reinforcing their bodies with mana."
She knew what he had said was true. Which was why she had to go to school; to train and learn under a suitable master. She had wanted to train with the Principal - but he said his fighting style would not benefit her at all.
And so she had nothing when compared to a genius like Reeve - except her own unique two skills.
Her body began to emit strange, cracking sounds; as well as horrifying noises like countless metal blocks scraping against each other. She grew shorter, until she was back to her previous height of 150cm.
Sam closed her eyes. She felt... Powerful. Dangerously so.
If earlier she could leave palm-shaped indentations in a steel anvil; now she felt like she could chop the anvil in half - with ease.
The cost was the strain on her body.
She had already decided how to test out her capabilities. She kicked off the ground into a jump towards the mountains; leaving massive cracks on the stone ground, radiating out 5m from where her foot had impacted.
She was moving so fast that she might as well have been teleporting - she was moving too fast for a normal person to even see.
Within 15 seconds, she had reached the nearby rocky hills; crossing a distance of about 3km with a few leaps and bounds. She had released enormous strength - at an equally large strain to her body.
From the pain lancing through her bones and muscles; and a mind-crushing ache in her heart, she could probably maintain this state for about half a minute at most - shorter if she used her full explosive power.
Pressed for time, she launched her first test blow, using half her explosive strength to execute palm-strike to the 100m high rocky ridge in front of her. The moment her hand touched the rocky surface, she heard a deafening cracking sound as a storm of dust rose and obscured her vision.
Coughing and rubbing her tearing eyes, she quickly released her transformation and left the dust clouds.
When the obstruction cleared; she was left agape - the result was beyond her expectation, leaving her speechless.
The small hill was gone - crumbled to rubble and stones. Though this was a small hill; it extended for nearly 500m in length and connected to the larger mountain range on either side.
But now it was as if a localised avalanche had happened. The land had sunk down, creating a new valley of stones...
Shocked; she promised herself to be careful how she used her trump card. Unnerved by the results, she put aside any thoughts of testing Disruption out. She felt that if she were not careful, she might vaporise half the mountain range...
As she jogged back to her hut (picking up Snowie on the way back); she considered her strength.
She was about 10 times stronger when she transformed; and could probably move 3-4 times faster... But her precision, control and technique would suffer greatly. And even destroying a hill did not mean much - it was just stones and rocks, with numerous faults and cracks already formed over years of erosion.
It would be wholly different when compared to a battle-hardened warrior with a honed body - one that was reinforced to be multiple times stronger.
(My current transformed strength should be around... Level 15? Maybe I can take on a level 7 or 8 expert now?) She tried to remember what Principal Snow had shared about the levels, but in the end she was just randomly guessing since she had already forgotten most of it...
Once more, despite her good results; Sam could only think about how there was always a sky above a sky; and a mountain above a mountain. She truly had a long way to go.
She wiped herself off; packed up and took a last long look at her home of 5 years. In truth, she didn't even remember her life before coming to Pari; to her, this had been the only home she'd known.
Taking a deep breath, she bid the house goodbye; picked up Snowie to set her on her shoulder; and left. She did look back a few times though; as if though afraid the house would disappear the moment she took her eyes off it.
(I'll see you again, housey!)
* * * * *
"Huh? You aren't traveling?" Sam stood with her hide bag slung over her shoulder. She felt silly as Paulos told her that not a single caravan would be leaving until the situation at the tomb of the NDLDG was settled.
Dejected and left with no choice; she trudged back to her house; embarrassed and irritated.
(Hello again housey... That was quick... I guess it's good - I'd have missed you otherwise...)
As she set her bags down and unpacked her clothes and traveling utensils; laying them down according to colour, purpose and type; she had an idea.
(Why don't I go to the tomb and solve the problem myself...? Then Paulos can travel again!)
And so she started the 2,000km southwards journey, across land and sea to the Island of Manacor in the trail of Caitlyn, Principal Snow, Swordmaster Bannon and Father Tristan.
All to open up the caravan route to Lyon - 300km eastwards.