CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  “Peter piper picked a peck of pickled peppers!” Richard grunted, sweat dripping from his brow.

  “She sells sea shells by the sea shore!” he groaned, limbs quivering, core burning, bare feet slapping against the rough terrain—the finish line just around the corner.

  “How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?” he gasped for breath, nearly stumbling as his foot caught on a loose pebble. “And if a woodchuck could chuck wood, then how much wood would a woodchuck chuck!”

  He let the lvl 1 boar’s corpse slip from his shoulders as soon as he crossed the invisible finish line. A pile of rocks, a patch of brambles, and a few fully spent mana crystals scattered about, marking the twenty fifth such lap around the glade in however many minutes.

  “Twenty nine minutes and thirty two seconds. A new record, sir! Well done!”

  Still huffing and puffing—like he were readying to blow some ill conceived houses down—Richard glared up at the immaculately attired butler, with his fancy posh accent and his pufferfish for a head. The fish, apparently, just as out of breath as he was—mouth gaping comically wide, body inflating, then deflating with each failed intake of oxygen.

  “Is that actually true, or are you just making things up?”

  “S-sir! I would never! To think that you’d have such a low opinion of me…! I’ll have you know that I am very meticulous when it comes to the keeping of time. I take great pride in it, in fact. Not once have I allowed for even a single minute to slip by unaccounted for! And as for my instrument of choice? Well, if you must know, sir, I take great offense on his behalf for your borderline incendiary remarks!”

  Richard flopped down onto his back, ignoring the way loose rocks and sticks dug into his spine, blinked, then shot back up to a sitting position.

  “Wait? On his behalf?”

  “Why yes of course. Lucky for you, George isn’t one to hold a grudge.”

  Richard shifted his eyes from the pufferfish man, to the bouncing personification of an antique wall clock he could’ve sworn hadn’t been there moments before—with its big cartoonish eyes, clock hands for a nose, and a wide, goofy smile so bright it hurt to look at.

  “Guh-hyuck!”

  Richard froze, blinked, then slowly lowered himself back down until all he could see was blue sky and puffy white clouds.

  “Honestly… why am I even surprised at this point…? I swear, in Opon’s name, I am this close to yanking that infernal cube out of my chest so I can be done with these idiotic hallucinations already!”

  There followed a moment of blessed silence.

  “I find that quite hurtful, sir.”

  “Yeah, well, I find you at odds with my rapidly deteriorating sanity! How bout that?!”

  “… guh-hyuck…”

  “Oh, now look what you’ve done! You’ve gone and made poor Jerald sad. Are you happy with yourself?!”

  “Jerald? I thought his name was George.”

  “Oh? You remembered! And here I’d thought we were merely figments of your deranged imagination.”

  Richard paused in what he was about to say. Pursed his lips—gray eyes, with their pitch black sclera, thinning in consternation.

  “Touché. I believe that’s a point to you?”

  “Thank you sir. I thought it a rather inspired riposte myself.”

  “… guh-hyuck?”

  “Yes George, you did very well. Good job, my old friend.”

  “Guh-hyuck!”

  Richard groaned. Massaged his temples. As if that would rid them of the near constant migraine pounding away there. His body ached. His mind was shot. His soul was quivering, as if it were on its last legs. He needed a change of pace. Of course that was when the sounds of playing children swam back into focus. He let his head flop to the side so that he could better survey his charge and her hangers on.

  Richard frowned.

  What on earth are they doing?

  On the other side of the glade, the children were huddled around another lvl 1 corpse, struggling to lift it onto the back of one of their fellows, as he excitedly egged them on.

  Richard rolled his eyes. Sighed. Then, with another groan, he rose unsteadily to his feet. He’d better snip this lunatic behavior in the bud before someone actually got hurt. He might not have liked kids, but that didn’t mean he actively wished them ill. Most of the time. But then it was behavior like this that really gave credence to his sour disposition.

  Really, what are they even hoping to accomplish with this?

  Richard stomped his way across the glen, snapping twigs beneath his bare soles and splashing carelessly through the shallow stream. It didn’t take long for the brats to notice his approach, but, instead of abandoning their shenanigans and looking suitably abashed as he’d expected, if anything, they only grew more animated in their attempts to finish whatever it was they’d set out to do. Flatten their companion like an unripe tomato, in so far as he could tell.

  Attempted murder in broad daylight? These kids sure have gotten bold in my absence. It’s almost admirable in a way. Almost.

  “Attention!” Richard barked with a drill sergeant’s authority, his tiny voice slicing through the air like the crack of thunder.

  The corner of Richard’s lip twitched as they actually leapt to obey, straightening their spines, and bumbling their way into some facsimile of an organized drill line. A few even holding their hands to their brow’s in a sloppy salute.

  Now, who on earth taught them that?

  “And what, might I ask, is going on here? Have you babies lost your gosh darn minds?”

  “N-no?” cried the largest of the toddlers, Donald he thought his name was.

  “That’s sir to you, recruit!”

  “N-no sir!” the boy pulled his spine so straight he was at risk of tipping over.

  “Then can you tell me who gave you permission to asphyxiate yourself inside my tutorial?!”

  “Asphix- afix- umm, huh, sir?”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “The body, recruit! That hunk’a boar meat you were thinkin’ of smotherin’ yourself with! What on earth even possessed you to try something so pig-ignorant?!”

  The kids shared a number of side long glances, before their chosen representative spoke up once more.

  “Uh! Umm! Well, we was just trying to get as strong as you are, sir!”

  The others bobbed their heads vigorously in agreement, though a few seemed more hesitant than eager.

  At least they’re not all complete morons…

  Richard sighed. He’d thought it might be something like this.

  “Recruit, have you ever heard the saying, do as I say, not as I do?”

  “No sir.”

  “Well then, let me give you a quick rundown on the basics. You saw me doing squats and running laps with that thing on my back, correct?”

  “Yes sir!” if it were even possible, the boys spine straightened even further, chest puffed out, it was as if stars were shining in those eyes.

  “Yeah don’t do that.”

  The boy deflated.

  “But-!”

  “Are you arguing with me recruit?!”

  “No sir…”

  “Good now-” he paused—then he sighed.

  Man he was doing a lot of that recently. Why did he get the feeling they wouldn’t listen to him without some form of incentive?

  “Alright, listen up you brats! Everyone, eyes on me, and don’t even think about blinking, cause I’m only going to show you this once!”

  The kids, who’d begun to look dejected, straightened up once more. The little troublemaker, Donald, holding his eyelids open with thumb and forefinger to make absolutely sure he didn’t miss whatever came next. Shaking his head, Richard adopted a basic stance. Slowly, as if moving through water, he performed a simple straight punch. Nothing fancy, but an informative brochure for a martial arts dojo in Phoenix, Arizona, made sure his form was as perfect as it could possibly be.

  Once he’d finished his little slow-mo demo, he straightened, and addressed the kiddies for what he hoped would be the last time that day.

  “There, now that’s an example worth emulating. You wanted to become as strong as I am? Ha! Tell me, how were you supposed to manage that when you don’t even have a basic grasp of the fundamentals? Come back to me in a thousand years and maybe, just maybe, I might consider letting you copy my advanced training regimen. But until that time, get lost! And don’t come back until you’ve practiced that punch I showed you a thousand- no, ten-thousand times!”

  “Yes sir!” they all chorused in unison, even those few that’d been hesitant before, now looked like they were burning up with passion.

  “Dismissed!”

  And so saying, the kids scattered, running to claim secluded little spots all throughout the glade, where they then began punching the air with obvious enthusiasm.

  There, that should keep them occupied for the next little while. And who knows, maybe something truly miraculous will happen. Although, on second thought, the odds of such a thing occurring seem dubious at best.

  “Do you think that was wise, sir?”

  “Eh. What could go wrong?”

  “I can think of a number of things.”

  “Which is probably why I never asked.”

  And, before the hallucination could respond, Richard reached into his chest, and plucked the green ability cube free. Man, getting the last word really was the best. Super under-appreciated as far as hobbies go.

  Immediately he felt a wave of relief, so strong, it bordered on euphoria. In an instant, his headache vanished, his clarity returned, his body felt a hundred pounds lighter, and his soul felt bruised, but undeniably whole. Not letting himself luxuriate in the sensation for more than… a couple dozen seconds, he snapped himself back to reality just in time to call out.

  “Hold on a moment! I’ve got a different lesson plan in mind for you.”

  Penelope, floating through the air as if on an invisible lazy river, clearly taking great pains to record every uncoordinated attack and poorly timed “KIAI!” eventually managed to tear her eyes from the apparent spectacle.

  The little empress turned on her cloud of ambient mana, observed him for a time, before she proceeded to meander closer with the unhurried pace of a centuries old tortoise. Taking her sweet time, she eventually came to hover right in front of him, amber eyes seeming to stare straight on through him, as if peering directly into his soul. He tried not to shudder. Turning to a conveniently placed log, Richard sat down and gestured for her to do the same. She decided to hover two inches off the ground in front of him.

  Good enough, I suppose. I couldn’t very well expect an empress to sit down on the bare ground, now could I?

  “Excellent. Now then, my talented pupil, how would you like to learn something new? Something, I’ll bet on my professional integrity, is bound to be interesting at the very least.”

  Her eyes lit up, just as he’d suspected they would. Fantastic. The fish had taken the bait. Now all he had to do was come up with an entire lesson plan right there on the spot.

  Easy peasy.

  Well, he had ideas, so it wasn’t going to be entirely off the cuff, and yet the fact remained that he’d never trained an Imperial before. He wasn’t sure anyone had, for that matter. Which meant that, no matter how much it rankled, there would be some amount of improvisation involved. He’d just have to take things as they came.

  Who knew what she did or didn’t already know, after all?

  “Alright. First things first, why don’t we start with the basics. Just so that I have a baseline understanding of your strengths and weaknesses. Please repeat after me.”

  And so saying, Richard pushed several strands of his mana out through his pours, and conjured three geometric shapes in the air. A cube, a sphere, and a pyramid respectively. As he did so, Richard watched his pupil. Observed the way her eyes bobbed up and down, following the movements of his mana.

  So it’s true then. Imperials can see mana. Immediately! With no prerequisites. Without even evolving once!

  Of course he wasn’t nearly so lucky. His mana was as invisible to him as all ambient mana was. Mana Sight was a skill that only became available to certain classes, and only after they’d reached B Grade. Back then, as now, he’d always felt like a feeble old man feeling his way around in the dark, wherever external mana control was concerned.

  It was easier inside the body, as there were pathways and life energy to orient one’s self by, but outside…? Thousands of hours had been spent trying, and failing, to make shapes and patterns, all without the capacity to check his work for either errors or improvements. It’d been incredibly frustrating in the very beginning, although now, even though he was still wandering around in the dark, it’d since become a familiar darkness.

  As if the familiar contours of a beloved home he’d spent nearly a decade organizing so that everything was in its proper place.

  Penelope took her time observing his mana constructs, even going so far as to make a circuit around his head to better see them from all angles. Then, retaking her seated position, she furrowed her brow. And, in the next moment, the ambient mana around them shuddered, and hundreds of geometric shapes were formed within the space of a heartbeat.

  Richard gulped, taking in the full scope of it with tentative prods of his mana threads.

  “T-that’s uhh, very good! Umm. Yes. Well done,” he paused. “You can put those away now.”

  And just like that, the mana constructs simply vanished. Penelope continued to peer into his soul, no expression on her face but naked curiosity. Richard forced a confident smile, while mentally he scrubbed away weeks worth of possible lesson plans.

  Okay… I think it’s safe to say we can skip lessons one through eight. If she can do that, I highly doubt changing its shape on the fly, or rotating several shapes around one another will pose much of a challenge for her. Which only leaves the Hail Mary’s. Oh joy. This can’t possibly go wrong.

  “Alright, why don’t we take a step back. I think it’s better if I know a few things about your core before we proceed. Stay right where you are. I’m just going to try something real quick and then we can continue.”

  And so saying, Richard got up, circled around the curious girl—her amber eyes tracking him all the while—before kneeling with a hand on her back.

  “I’m going to send a tendril of my mana into you now. Please try not to resist, it’ll only be temporary.”

  Wasting no time, he immediately made good on his promise. Drawing up a tendril of mana and directing it into her body, only to immediately be met with a brick wall. The ambient mana buzzed and spat around him, weirdly charged, as if he were at the epicenter of a lightning storm. Richard gulped, figuring he probably should’ve been more transparent with what he was doing. Speaking more to the ambient mana than he did the empress, he said in a clear high pitched voice.

  “I’m testing to see just how large her mana pool is. My reasoning being, the better I understand her current baseline, the more informed I can be with her lessons moving forward.”

  The ambient mana continued to spit and churn, and, for a moment he worried that he’d overstepped his bounds. That he’d be smote right there on the spot. To his infinite relief, however, the charged tension in the air eventually dissipated, and his mana thread was allowed access to her core. Of course he knew the second he stepped even a toe out of line, said hostility would be back in full force. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he resolved himself to be the perfect mentor from this point on.

  His life technically depended on it.

  It didn’t take him long to locate her core—a white, gelatinous mass like all low level mana cores at this stage. Carefully, he poked his hair-thin mana tendril through the soft membrane, immediately feeling out how much mana the fledgling empress had pooled in there.

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  So little!

  By his calculations, her mana capacity couldn’t have been any higher than five! Six at the most! Nothing to sneeze at for only being two days into the tutorial, but then she wasn’t just anyone. She was a twice blessed Imperial, for goodness sakes. He rocked back on his heels, stunned. Then, he grinned.

  Perhaps he did have something to teach her after all.