January 19th, 2022
***
It was chilly as they stepped outside — below freezing or close to it. Carson II was cold all year round due to its distance from their star. At least Richter had the clothes for the weather: a puffy blue jacket over a black long-sleeve shirt and some jeans. The outfit had the same symbol from earlier embroidered on each piece.
Clare took him back to the underground facility. She didn't ask what they talked about; maybe she already knew.
"Others may come here to train, just keep to yourself. There's plenty of equipment to go around. They won't mess with you if you have those clothes on."
She led him down the staircase to the back wall where training prisms lined a shelf. Richter had to keep himself from laughing — Clare could barely reach them.
"So, I guess I just duel you?"
"No you idiot, I don't have time for that. You'll be using the practice function."
She retrieved a weathered prism with eroded corners and scratch marks on the metal. Unlike the others, it was missing the triple 's' symbol, replaced with a silhouette of a man.
"Training prisms record the data of all who use them. This one contains the data of Vincent Stadz, albeit a bit outdated. Drek stole it a few years back; no idea how he managed that.
The prism lit up, projecting a net around them as she infused mana into it.
"Just infuse mana and say that you want to practice. It'll pull up a list of registered users. The three options are 'max', 'equalize', and 'swap'. 'Max' allows the data to use their peak recorded attributes. 'Equalize' equalizes your attributes so you fight on an even playing field. 'Swap' swaps your attributes with the data."
"Am I still expected to lose? All three settings?"
Clare snorted, "Of course, Though I'll be monitoring your progress. The prism can control attributes, but that's it. Even if you swap, he'll still have access to everything else. You'll understand soon.
Seems simple enough. So Richter bent down to pick it up, ready to begin. But she snatched it back.
"Not so fast."
"What is it now?" he sighed.
"I need to know your limit. I was supposed to get it last time."
He gave her a blank stare. A limit? Does she enjoy spouting shit he doesn't know? He must have let his irritation slip, causing her right arm to wind up.
"You...Forget it. Allocate your attribute points so we can test."
"How did you—"
"Hurry up!"
She slugged his right shoulder, dislocating it.
'Calm down...deep breaths...' He talked himself down from picking a fight he'd regret.
Richter wrenched his shoulder blade back into place, hissing from the pain. It would take too long to recover naturally. That's another Healing Potion down the drain.
'Status'
He bought three potions: two mana and one healing, then allocated his points. If he'd have to deal with Clare for a while, then Constitution was a must.
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[Name: Richter Maier || Mana: 0%/100% || Level 25: 0% XP || Unused Attribute Points: 0 (-6)]
[Class: Swordsman (intrinsic)]
[Subclass: Dueler]
[Attributes: Strength: 25 || Agility: 28 || Constitution: 21 (+3) || Magic: 50 (+3) || Intelligence 14]
[Abilities: Transcendent Bloodlust (innate), Transcendent Sense (innate), Swordsman's Tenacity (passive), Swordsman's Agility (passive) || Skills: Sunder, Harden]
[49 (-30) Copper || 1 (+1) Healing Potions || 2 (+2) Mana Potions]
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[Congratulations on reaching level 25. Your third Class Ability has been unlocked. Please select a Skill]
[Summoning Type: Utility - Bound Sword || Ice Type: Offense - Howl || Light Type: Utility - Lightspeed]
'Damn...' Richter would be lying if he said Lightspeed didn't pique his interest. But Bound Sword was the first Skill he'd come across that related to swords.
Clare saw his eyebrows furrow and cleared her throat.
"What are you thinking so hard about?"
"Lightspeed," he murmured.
She cocked her head to the side in surprise.
"Lightspeed sets the caster's mass to zero and boosts speed proportional to mana used. The drawback is that having no mass means no force. So physical attacks are useless. It's hard to control, but very useful for running away."
A light bulb went off in his head.
"Can I combo it with Skills that add mass?"
Clare looked a little pleased, almost like a mother watching their son take his first steps.
"Absolutely. There are a dozen or so Skills that add mass - each with their drawbacks. Synergies like that are vital for growing stronger. Keep using your head and there may be hope for you."
Richter was convinced. As much as it hurt, he tapped 'Lightspeed', adding it to his roster. The new Class Ability popped up after.
[Swordsman's Deflection - Consumes stamina to add a small magnetization effect to your blade, making it easier to intercept attacks. Each attack deflected consumes stamina. Stages of stamina consumption include body aches, trembling, sweating, and blacking out.]
Richter was really disappointed when he saw this. And his optimism for swordsmanship on a broader scale soured.
No discipline. No correction.
His attention was pulled away as an invisible force lifted from his body. It was hard to put his finger on, but he felt...free.
[Congratulations on becoming a Beginner. Restrictions have been lifted.]
"Woah, this feels awesome."
"I know. Now take these, it's time to test." She handed him two Mana Potions, an action that earned a quizzical look.
"With restrictions lifted, you can now hold more mana than the natural limit of one hundred percent. The amount depends on the species and individual talent. An average human achieves between one-hundred ten to one-hundred thirty percent at first. I'm hoping you'll be around one-sixty. Fortunately, this is something you can train to improve. And I don't think you need to be told how advantageous it is to have more mana at your disposal."
He chugged the first potion, restoring himself to one hundred percent, then brought the second to his lips. Only now did he realize how empty he felt. Richter had been out of mana since yesterday.
"What's stopping someone from consuming more? What if they wanted three hundred or even four hundred percent?"
"Death. The more mana you try to contain in your vessel, the harder it becomes to control. If it gets too much...you'll explode. Best case: it'll leak out of your body to a controllable level. By then you've wasted resources."
Ahh. That's a pretty good disincentive. Clare warned him to go slow, so he did. The blue liquid disappeared, dissolving in his body and adding to the circuit in his veins.
Ten...twenty...thirty...
He surpassed one-hundred-fifty percent.
Sixty...seventy...eighty...
"You idiot! Don't be so reckless!"
The empty vial shattered on the floor.
Something was wrong. Veins bulged on his forehead. He doubled over, clutching his heart as he coughed up blood. His breathing was erratic and his eyes were rolling back. She leapt over with a potion in hand.
"Stay focused. Control it."
The world slowed as he met her gaze - unfocused and foggy. His eyes weren't just tinted with mana, they were saturated.
Clare breathed a sigh of relief once he stabilized.
"Are you trying to kill yourself? That was moronic. You can't cripple yourself at the start of a fight. Stick to one-hundred seventy percent. You can work up to two hundred.
She wiped the sweat from her brow and walked to the staircase.
"The test is done, I'm out. Don't make me hire a babysitter."
Her footsteps stomped off above ground, strangely angry. He waited an extra minute before getting up.
It was all an act. One he'd never attempt in front of Silas, but Clare was different. She viewed him as a foolish and uneducated thorn in her side — So he performed to reinforce that belief. The blood came from biting his tongue, and the rest was years of anger management dealing with teenagers.
In reality, the hunger hadn't ceased. The surplus of mana made a difference - a minor strain - but he wasn't satisfied. Richter would test his limits eventually. For now, the prism called his name.
He strolled over and sent a wisp of mana inside.
"I want to practice."
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[Choose an opponent and difficulty from the list.]
Registered User(s):
[Vincent Stadz] - || Max || Equalize || Swap
________________________________________________________________
'Just him?' he wondered.
Clare said it'd been a few years. So in all that time, nobody challenged Vincent's data? That didn't sit right. Maybe there was a way to erase or transfer data; but that wouldn't help him right now. He had to train.
It was time to experience the power of Carson II's strongest Guardian.
Richter couldn't die from the prism, or else Jack would have suffered a lobotomy in their duel. So with no risk...Why not?
He clicked 'Max' and let the prism work its magic. A slightly smaller version of Vincent appeared opposite him. Just a few inches, but it didn't change the certain death and choking atmosphere. Richter wasn't faking this time — he was about to pass out.
[Start!]
[Lethal damage sustained. Practice has concluded. Result: Loss]
'Oh...' He blinked, and it was over. The selection screen floated in front of him.
Richter took a second to reflect. The man wasn't fast. But the rock he threw? Different story. Vincent pulled one out in advance from his dimensional space and chucked it like a baseball. The stone reached him at Mach 2, eviscerating his body. It was an embarrassing way to die; he thought the data was taunting him. Subsequent attempts proved otherwise.
Vincent was hellbent on turning him to paste with minerals. Dodging the rock led to a barrage of pebbles. He'd crush them in his fist, then sling them to cover a wide area, each packing enough power to tear holes in his body like bullets. The small, empty dome meant he had nothing to hide behind or run to.
Another attempt. It was time to try something new.
[Start!]
[Lightspeed - 20%]
His body lurched forward akin to a teleport. He reached Vincent, rock in hand, arm wound tight to pitch.
Then he passed Vincent. Acceleration carried Richter into the barrier behind Vincent's back, causing a concussion. The rock found its mark right after.
'Clare wasn't kidding about that speed boost.' he grunted.
Richter was half right. The effect wasn't this exaggerated for the average caster. But with his mana's density and purity...It mattered.
He gave 'Max' a few more attempts to mess around, but he never made it past the rocks. He didn't get to see a Skill or Ability, let alone mana.
It was time for 'swap'.
[Start!]
Richter grew a foot and a half. He felt awkward, bulky, and unbelievably durable. Vincent's data had a glum look; it didn't like its attributes. He brandished a dagger at Richter with decent prowess — quick jabs and slashes at his tendons and vitals.
When raw stats weren't enough, Vincent used mana. The hum of energy suffused his body. His strikes were sharper. Faster. Richter tested his durability to learn more about the man. He tanked every hit. A handful drew blood, but none more than a papercut.
That was, until more mana poured out. A different type - a different color. The human blue muddied with a mesmerizing gold. When that wasn't enough, Vincent added a third. Then a fourth. In total, he fused five together, growing stronger and faster each time. Vincent went pale from exertion but nothing could take away how terrifying he looked.
His ears had elongated, turning pointy. Red scales covered the left half of his face; the right was more of an orange liquid fire. His left eye golden, right eye dilated till the black pupil encompassed the iris.
The dagger cut deep now, inflicting significant wounds. There were even afterimages of his attacks, not that they mattered against Richter. But he had an idea.
[Sunder - 20%]
Only feasible in the confines of training, he summoned a point-blank orb then burst it to look like a suicidal attack.
Vincent was too close. His eyes widened as the bomb exploded on the ground between them. Richter didn't flinch, but Vincent was flung back a dozen yards - badly injured. His organs were shutting down with both legs twisted at awkward angles.
He died moments later.
[Opponent sustained lethal damage. Practice has concluded. Result: Win]
Richter knew how bad it sucked to be fragile. It was his own weakness he took advantage of.
Regardless, he was far from done. A single win was insufficient and the night was young. The prompt asked again for a selection.
[Start!]
He'd quickly come to realize that that victory was a fluke, because Vincent's data learned. And now he kept his distance to avoid a repeat performance. But if Vincent learned, then so would he.
Richter didn't mind the grind. Training used to be the most fun thing he'd do — it was all he had. That old satisfying feeling was coming back. This wouldn't be his only win against Vincent's data; he'd make sure of that.
***