For rapidly depleting your stamina, your vitality has increased.
VIT 15→16
For efficiently controlling your Od’s distribution, your dexterity has increased.
DEX 21→22
This... This made no sense at all. How could his ‘stats,’ his physical prowess, just increase through light training? He had barely exerted himself! He trained harder than this every day. If it were so easy to grow stronger, he should already be a superhuman, even without Pneuma!
Okay, he told himself, calm down. I do not feel any different; maybe these screens really are just illusions.
Quest Completed: Strength beyond Strength
Quest objectives:
* Spend 2 hours imparting a class on the workings of Pneuma.
Bonus objectives: Failed
* Have at least one student grasp the first stage of Pneuma (0/1)
You have leveled up *2* times. HP, SP, and STM restored to 100%!
LV: 1→3
All stats increased by *2* points.
STR: 15
VIT: 18
DEX: 24
MND: 19
SPT: 10
A flare of golden-white power enveloped his body, washing away what little soreness his training had given him. Stamina back to 100%. The feeling of rejuvenation was as real as it could be.
"Mr. Kurt?!" Marcus exclaimed. "Are you okay, sir? What was that?!" The whole class was looking at him now.
"Nothing! Just... some new flaring method I have been working on," he lied. "No need to worry. And furthermore, our time is up," he said, pointing at the now inert canister at the center of the group. "Great class, everyone! I know we did not get to the first stage, but do not fret, we will get you there... eventually. The next class will have to wait until Mr. Anderson is back, because that was the only canister he gave me."
The group groaned aloud.
"I know, I know. There is nothing I can do about it, though. In the meantime, just keep practicing your breath control. Meditate until you can feel your lungs taking in the air. We will have the next class as soon as possible."
The small crowd dispersed quickly into smaller groups, and Kurt was soon left alone with the one person who had stayed.
"That went smoother than I thought," she said, her tone cheery. "I was kind of worried you would clobber someone."
"Please," he answered,a warm smile taking over his face. "You trust me so little, Mila? And here I thought we were besties!"
He turned to look at her.
Bubbly Fae
Mila
LV:19
Standing about a head shorter than him, despite them both being the same age, Mila was nonetheless the bigger presence of the two, thanks to her seemingly unlimited capacity for chatter and her more unique appearance. A cute, thin, and pale girl – her most recognizable features were her hair, a shade of blond so light it looked white and styled in a pixie cut, and her eyes, which were the clearest shade of blue Kurt had ever seen, contrasting with his own dark amber ones.
"Of course we are, dummy!" she answered, undeterred. "That’s why I could not let you just beat someone up just because they bad-mouthed Pneuma or something. Glad to see it was not necessary."
"Well," Kurt said, "glad I did not disappoint."
They stood there for a moment in comfortable silence. Mila, of course, was the first to break it.
"Sooo... what was all that stuff in class?" she asked, curiosity and a slight worry in her tone. "You know, that golden flaring thing."
"Oh, that," he muttered. "Just a new type of Od cycling I have been working on..."
"Do not lie to me, please," she said, looking at him seriously. "If you do not know what it was, or do not want to tell me, that is okay, but do not lie to me, please."
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He stared at her for a brief moment, then looked away, sighing. "I do not know what that was. It caught me by surprise too. Weird stuff has been happening all around me since I woke up. I am still figuring it out, or trying to, anyway. The plan for now is to wait until Mr. Anderson comes back and see if he knows anything about it."
Mila remained silent for a brief moment, then spoke. "I see..." she said, slightly hesitant. "Well, if you need to talk with someone before that, I am right here!"
Kurt gave her a quick nod before answering. "Thanks. I will keep it in mind. Promise," he responded, smiling. She smiled gently back at him.
"And on a lighter note..." she said, her tone chipper once again. "Any plans for today? It is your birthday, after all."
"Oh, yeah. I guess it is," he said. "Nothing really, just do some training, maybe figure out what is happening to m – "
Mila walked up to him, her face just a couple of inches from his, a serious expression on her face. That she had to stand on her tiptoes to do so did little to diminish the effect.
"Nope!" she exclaimed.
"Nope?" Kurt repeated.
"As your best friend, I cannot let you spend your birthday on your own, doing the same old routine. I even did overtime in my crop-growing duties so we would have the entire day to ourselves!" she exclaimed, fist pressed against her chest, her face a (cute) mask of determination. "Hmm... oh, I know! Why don't we play video games in your room tonight, since Mr. Anderson is not here? We could play games all night and pig out on some candies I have been stocking. How does that sound?"
"I would love that," he responded.
"Cool!" she said, before glomping him. "It is a deal then!" She let go of him and stepped back. "So, what are you doing now?"
"Sword practice," he answered. "I was going to get some sword practice done. See if someone wants to spar with me, you know?"
"I do now!" she chirped. "Welp! Have fun! Bye!"
She darted away, and it was just then that Kurt exhaled.
God, this girl sure has energy in the mornings, he thought, smiling.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
While the training grounds were designated for everything from physical training to activities involving magic, weapon training was strictly confined to The Armory.
As its name implied, The Armory was the building dedicated to storing all swords, spears, armor, and similar equipment in the order's quarters. While any individual could claim a weapon or piece of armor, all items had to be stored in The Armory and could only be retrieved for supervised training, maintenance, or pre-approved quests. Given how little emphasis the order placed on violence of any kind, the building saw little use.
The Armory also served as a gym and sparring center for any kind of armed combat, mainly swordsmanship and spearmanship. It was in one of the larger open rooms of this building that Kurt found himself, wooden training sword – a bokken-like implement 3.5 feet in length – in hand. He would be training alone, as no one else currently in the building wanted to spar with him, as usual.
He actually appreciated this bit of routine, inconvenient as it was, amid the storm of enigmas this day had brought, particularly in the face of yet another new development. He looked down at the sword in his hand, and at the screen above it.
Training sword
Quality: Common
A plain and sturdy wooden implement. Though lacking magical properties or an edge, this weapon still carries all the weight and toughness of the solid oak from which it is made.
An appraisal screen had appeared when he took hold of the sword and examined it.
He decided to simply file this new information away until he could talk with Mr. Anderson and get some practice done.
He would have preferred having a partner for this, but there was no helping it. Of all the other members of the order, only one other used a sword at all, and Kurt was in no mood to deal with– "Hey," a voice called. Kurt turned his head toward it. "There you are, I have been looking for you."
Bearer of the Aura of Blue
Conrad Walker
LV: 35
Conrad Walker. At age 19 and over 6 feet tall, with tan skin that contrasted sharply with his blond hair and blue eyes, Conrad was the only other member of the order capable of challenging – and often beating – Kurt in a fight. This was one of the many reasons Kurt was not at all fond of him.
"What for?" answered Kurt. He noticed that Conrad was carrying a training sword of his own – a shorter, one-handed model more in line with his style.
"Heard from one of your – I guess I could say students – about some weird happenings with you during class. Something about you spacing out and practicing some ‘new way of Od flaring.’ Ring any bells?"
Kurt looked at him for a moment, expression hard. "Yes, it does. What about it?"
"Anything to report on that? Anything that could be serious or bring harm to the order?" asked Conrad, his face worryingly neutral.
They stared at each other for a moment. Kurt was the one to break the silence.
"Nothing immediate, no. Either way, I would prefer to discuss it with Mr. Anderson when he is back, since he is more likely to know how to handle it."
"Is that so?" he asked, eyes squinting in suspicion. He fixed his gaze on Kurt's sword. "Well, since we are both here, and you do not seem interested in a friendly talk, how about we have ourselves a friendly spar?"
Kurt glared at him scornfully, a look that Conrad matched. After a moment, Kurt smiled sharply and gestured at the room in an inviting manner, even as his grip on his sword tightened to the point of being slightly painful.
"Well," Kurt said, his eyes never leaving Conrad's, "so long as it is a friendly spar."
They stood ten feet apart, measuring each other's stances.
Kurt held his sword in both hands, feet planted firmly, while Conrad held his sword one-handed, in a more relaxed and flexible manner, agility his main focus.
They advanced slowly, measuredly. One mistake would end this match as quickly as if they had real swords, and they both knew it. Despite the age gap between the two, their heights were nearly the same, but Conrad's one-handed style gave him the advantage in reach, so it was in Kurt's best interest to close the distance as soon as possible and force a bind.
Conrad attacked first, aiming a slash at Kurt’s neck. The younger warrior ducked under the attack, pushing his opponent’s arm upward with his sword.
Conrad began retreating, trying to regain his reach advantage. Kurt followed, his firm strides matching the swifter ones through sheer momentum. The boy delivered a fast, heavy downward slash to the older swordsman’s chest. Conrad struck the side of Kurt's sword with his own, trying to make him miss and create a gap to put some distance between them.
His sword hit true, but the slash continued its course, the wooden blade moving slightly faster and stronger than Conrad had expected, throwing off his parry.
To Conrad’s credit, he reacted quickly, jumping back and away from his rival, sparing himself a bruised collarbone at the cost of his stance. He landed with a roll and propped himself into a crouch with his left knee and free hand. A thin friction mark decorated his shirt, extending across the chest where the sword had grazed him.
"You have gotten stronger," he said, lightly brushing two fingers across the mark. "Noticeably so."
He stood up, returning to a proper stance with practiced swiftness. "Very well. Why do we not see how much stronger you have become?" he said, as a deep blue, electric-looking aura enveloped his body.
"Fine by me," Kurt muttered, Od flares enveloping his body.
Then they charged, moving faster than humanly possible.
Kurt and Conrad did not fight each other often; their mutual distaste limited even this kind of interaction. But they had fought enough times for a certain etiquette to develop between them.
They were both to begin with, only their physical prowess and skill, using their superhuman abilities only after the first successful attack had been delivered. Now that this condition had been met, they held nothing back.
Conrad darted around Kurt, a blue blur moving with immense speed and precision, aiming at every opening in his opponent's guard. Unburdened even by his own momentum, the older warrior moved in ways that defied the laws of inertia.
The younger warrior, however, remained unassailable. Od cycling boosted his reflexes and senses, allowing him to track his foe’s every move, while Od flaring increased his speed and strength to match.
But this stalemate was bound to break.
Conrad lunged at his rival’s side. Kurt swung his sword in a wide arc at the speedster’s head. The older fighter pivoted around the slash, maintaining his lunge at the same speed, now aiming for Kurt’s sternum.
The boy weaved around the thrust, letting the attack that should have struck his chest pass beneath his left armpit, hitting nothing. In the same motion, the boy’s sword slashed at Conrad’s gut in an axe-like fashion, striking just below the ribcage at the diaphragm.
Conrad doubled over, gasping for air, his momentum lost. Without missing a beat, Kurt brought the pommel of his sword down toward the top of his rival’s head. It never connected. In an instant, Conrad’s aura intensified, blasting him backward faster than Kurt could react or even perceive.
"You…" Conrad uttered from across the room, gasping for air. "…definitely got stronger." He was shivering, his brow dry as bone, the sweat having evaporated from friction with the air. He had used speed beyond his limits, and he was paying the price. Yet his aura flared more violently than ever, sword pointed at his rival.
For a third time, they stood still, watching each other.
Kurt raised his sword. Conrad lowered his posture.
Conrad stepped forward, his leg groaning with effort. And then…
Conrad surged forward, faster than ever. A dark blue blur shot past Kurt’s side, and he felt something strike his chin. His brain rattled inside his skull, and then, everything went black.
