The Stubborn Skill-Grinder In A Time Loop - Chapter 9 - Harsh But Effective Training
“Interesting, and so I actually told you my name and unfurled my weapon?”
“Yes! As unbelievable as it must sound, that’s exactly what happened!” Orodan exclaimed.
“Well, that sounds like an utter bunch of hogwash… a sapling like you making me unfurl my weapon to deal with an attack of yours? A time loop? What nonsensical fiction comes from the minds of the youth nowadays… tsk, tsk…”
A vein on Orodan’s head became prominent in anger as his face reddened.
“Old man! You were quite willing to talk to me last time! What games are you playing now?!”
“Such a loud and rude tone to take with your elders… for a man caught in a time loop shouldn’t you have better manners?” Adeltaj Simarji asked in that infuriatingly mocking tone of his.
“Considering you gave me a thrashing last time, who’s the one with poor manners?!”
“I don’t recall doing that, but it must have been a beating you undoubtedly asked for,” Adeltaj quipped back.
That was the last straw, and Orodan decided to draw his weapons and activate all his skills.
And in response Adeltaj Simarji simply brought his right hand wielding his cloth-covered weapon behind his back, refusing to use it, and his left came out in front of him as though inviting Orodan to come at him.
The old man had a smirk on his face.
And so, it began.
Even with the full power of Death Rage, Weapon Aura and whatever else he could scrounge up, Orodan felt as though he was fighting a trained warrior, and he was but an infant. Even the Action Increase, when used consecutively to make it as though there was two of Orodan and doubled his battle power, failed to make a difference.
“I’ve seen a friend of mine use that trick before. But, multiplying zero by two is still zero you know?”
“Damn you, old man!”
“Rude… my turn. Allow me to give you the beating your parents never did,” Adeltaj said, as he began casually slapping Orodan about, sending him flying through numerous trees.
Orodan would have liked to be enraged at the comment about his parents, but the power of this old man was simply too overwhelming. Although, his Action Increase did allow him to resist the beating better than he did the last time.
Finally, he had enough and decided he would throw all his chips into one basket.
The reserves held within Mana Black Hole weren’t anything compared to what he originally held from draining the orb, but it was still all he drained from a Master-level mage, and so it would have to suffice.
Action Increase allowed him to use it twice in the same instant while only costing the energy of one.
But it was still an incredibly draining skill which took his vitality, physical stamina, mana and whatever strange energy came from his soul… and poured it all into a titanic attack.
And as all of Orodan Wainwright coalesced into his sword’s edge and the weapon tore through space towards Adeltaj Simarji, Orodan roared.
“I grew up an orphan!”
Count Rohanus Simarji, who was watching from the sidelines with an awed expression on his face, leapt away further to create more distance.
It wasn’t on the magnitude of the last time he had used it. But as he launched it now, he realized that his skill level wasn’t high enough and his body wasn’t strong enough to channel all of the energy he tried pouring into All-Strike the last time.
Most of it had been wasted before.
The attack was still at least a quarter as powerful, and this was the safe level at which he could launch it without having his body obliterated.
The surrounding mile was turned to rubble, and much vegetation of the Aenechean Forest they had wisely decided to venture deep into… was flattened.
It wasn’t the kind of city-destroying attack he launched last time, but it also didn’t obliterate his own body.
And before him, Adeltaj Simarji unfurled his weapon, although he was holding it lazily with one hand.
“Hmm… well I suppose this does, if barely, meet the qualifications for an attack that could make me unfurl my weapon. But only because I don’t want to dirty my hand stopping it.”
“Do you believe me now?” Orodan asked, a challenging tone in his voice that implied he was ready to fight further to prove his point even if his body was utterly drained of all stamina and energy.
“Oh, that? I knew you were telling the truth right from the start, I have a skill that allows me to tell if the speaker believes what they’re saying.”
“What?! Then all of this…?!” Orodan angrily exclaimed as he did a double-take.
“How else am I supposed to ascertain your current level of power if you want me to teach you?” the old man asked. “The youth these days… such a coddled education you receive in the academies that the thought of a master evaluating a potential student’s worth is something outrageous.”
“I never went to an academy… I’m self-taught,” Orodan said in response.
“Well, that explains why your work ethic is decent at least, the spoiled children in these fancy schools are handed everything on a silver platter,” Adeltaj lectured. “But… as spoiled as they are, it’s still a formal higher-level education.”
“I know my education is lacking, and likely has quite some gaps. Everything I’ve learned has been through word of mouth, experience, and discovering it myself aside from the year of training the county militia put me through,” Orodan began. “But… I’m confident I can bridge the gap and still prove myself a worthy student.”
“Boy… you at least know how to read and write?” the old man asked, and Orodan was almost offended in response.
“Of course! The matrons at the orphanage taught me that much, although nothing too complicated…”
“Hmm… well you’ll learn eventually, after all, you’re a mighty time looper aren’t you?” Adeltaj mockingly asked and Orodan bit down his indignation and didn’t rise to the bait for once.
“Does that mean you’ll teach me? That I’m your student?” Orodan asked, hope in his voice.
“Before I make a decision on that, here’s an Observer orb, put your hand on it. I need to know what I’m working with in concrete numbers,” Adeltaj demanded, and Orodan was hesitant to comply until the next words followed. “You’re hesitant? Worry not, this one doesn’t transmit anything anywhere.”
“My Status and skill levels are… something that have drawn undue attention in the past, from even Gods. Is this truly necessary?” Orodan still asked, almost cautioning the old man.
“Young man… I assure you, whatever incredible Status you think you have, I’ve likely seen better. I’m almost eight-hundred years old,” Adeltaj spoke. “The fact that you can fight Masters at your age and level, while incredible in the context of the current day and local political powers… isn’t world-shattering when evaluated across time and the world itself.”
“Suit yourself,” Orodan replied, and then placed his hand on the orb. He also switched his titles and allowed whatever came his way to transpire. Malzim had given him a safe way out of true trouble if it came to it.
Orodan called up his own Status as well as he willed the orb to display it.
[Name: Orodan Wainwright
Age: 17
Title 1: Master Slayer
Title 2: One Who Has Experienced Death
Available Titles:
One Who Has Experienced Death
Master Slayer
Sword Adept
Shield Adept
Physical Adept
Unarmed Combat Adept
Wrestling Apprentice
Cleaning Apprentice
Woodworking Apprentice
Rewards: Permanent +1 Action Increase
Skills:
Mana Resistance 39 (Apprentice – Legendary)
Wood Communion 31 (Apprentice – Legendary)
Mana Black Hole 8 (Initiate – Legendary)
All-Strike 2 (Initiate – Legendary)
Death Rage 53 (Adept – Exquisite)
Iron Body 41 (Apprentice – Exquisite)
Impregnable Bladewall 36 (Apprentice – Exquisite)
Lightning Resistance 14 (Initiate – Exquisite)
Unyielding Vitality 60 (Adept – Rare)
Weapon Aura 35 (Initiate – Rare)
Slashing Resistance 16 (Initiate – Rare)
Piercing Resistance 14 (Initiate – Rare)
War Cry 3 (Initiate – Rare)
Soul Manipulation 1 (Initiate – Rare)
Dying Struggle 59 (Adept – Uncommon)
Dying Struggle 56 (Adept – Uncommon)
Power Strike 44 (Apprentice – Uncommon)
Perfect Parry 42 (Apprentice – Uncommon)
Evasiveness 34 (Apprentice – Uncommon)
Shield Throw 12 (Initiate – Uncommon)
Sword Mastery 62 (Adept)
Pain Resistance 59 (Adept)
Shield Mastery 58 (Adept)
Combat Mastery 57 (Adept)
Bleeding Control 56 (Adept)
Physical Fitness 55 (Adept)
Damage Mitigation 54 (Adept)
Unarmed Combat Mastery 51 (Adept)
Wrestling 42 (Apprentice)
Tool Mastery 39 (Apprentice)
Woodworking 37 (Apprentice)
Cleaning 34 (Apprentice)
Surprise Attack 32 (Apprentice)
Sprinting 30 (Apprentice)
Laboring 27 (Initiate)
Construction 21 (Initiate)
Impact Resistance 21 (Initiate)
Club Mastery 15 (Initiate)
Lumberjacking 11 (Initiate)
Parkour 11 (Initiate)
Maintenance 8 (Initiate)
Intimidation 7 (Initiate)
Repair 7 (Initiate)
Thievery 6 (Initiate)
Deception 4 (Initiate)
Blessings:
Warrior’s Heart – Increased talent and learning rate for all warrior related skills as determined by Agathor
Warrior’s Quarry – Once you see your target they cannot flee. Your attacks will land on fleeing or evading foes and destiny will bend to ensure you find your mark
Death’s Call – Whenever you will it, Death takes you]
The display began displaying… and kept displaying. It was far longer than the average Status display.
And Adeltaj Simarji suddenly grew quiet.
He looked, and he looked. And he occasionally briefly gazed at Orodan, as though inspecting something, and then looked back to the display again.
Finally, he spoke.
“How many loops have you been through by now? A rough estimate?” the old man asked.
“Well… at least ten-thousand I think? I’m not too sure on the exact count, but at least that many.”
“And each loop, it lasts the whole day?”
“No. I choose to end the loops roughly nine hours after waking up, when the ancient war machine awakes and devastates the entire county,” Orodan explained, but then added. “But even that’s a recent thing for the last few hundred or so loops. Prior to that each loop lasted less than an hour on average as I immediately ran headfirst into my death till I succeeded in whatever I was attempting.”
“Ten-thousand… even if this was ten-thousand full days, your chronological age would now be in your forties. And given how quickly the loops end each time… not even thirty years of age yet…” Adeltaj muttered to himself, as his eyes took on a strange look.
Count Rohanus Simarji stood at the edge of the cratered dead zone from Orodan’s All-Strike. He dared not approach the meeting between his revered ancestor and this monstrous existence. Almost two whole minutes passed in utter silence after that as Adeltaj simply kept looking at the display and occasionally back at Orodan.
“I too have a Legendary skill, but Mana Resistance, this Legendary skill of yours… how did you acquire it?” the old man asked.
“I kept being burnt to ash by an Elite-pyromancer. My deaths were so instantaneous that I barely had time to focus on developing a skill to resist fire, so instead after dying hundreds of times I started to delve into what composed a magical attack itself and tried to actively develop a way of resisting it with nothing but my own body.”
“Incredible… and Iron Body, how did you acquire that?” Adeltaj inquired.
“I died thousands of times trying to fight a Master-level necromancer’s undead Demonic Berserker toe to toe, blow for blow,” Orodan spoke, and the old man looked as impressed by that as he was last time given the near imperceptible widening of his eyes.
“Even I would not have risked such an impossible feat at your age… Demonic Berserkers are ferocious forces of wicked nature, and even if they’re weakened when reanimated as undead… being empowered by a Master-level necromancer, there should have been no way for one of your strength to kill it, let alone doing it while trading blows.”
“It was a particularly brutal set of loops… but an integral crucible which forged me anew and helped take me from struggling against Elites to being able to fight Masters,” Orodan added.
“Hmm… not bad. Now tell me about…”
And so, on the discussion went.
The venerable Adeltaj Simarji continued to question his skills, what they did, how he acquired them, his Blessings, and so forth. They discussed the time loop, and the political machinations and the game being played with the awakening of the ancient machine.
Turns out the machine was in fact a key capable of sundering the boundary between dimensions. The awakening of the machine was just the first part. The plan was for whichever faction that controlled it to use the machine to shatter the dimensional boundary at a safe location and create a permanent passage to the hells.
It would sound nefarious to anyone, and to Orodan’s uneducated upbringing it definitely did. But Adeltaj explained that the last great invasion of hell was over five-thousand years ago, and the Arch-devils had been slain and the hells had been utterly weakened since.
Furthermore, since that time the Cathedral and the priesthood engaged in the practice of regular demon summoning with the purpose of calling and permanently slaying demons. Of course, the demons caught on and stopped allowing themselves to be summoned to the world after a while, but this severely hampered their ability to gain power.
Additionally, the Cathedral would once every few years organize a crusade where a temporary breach in the dimensional barrier would be opened, and adventurers, powerful experts and members of the priesthood seeking battle experience would essentially launch a raid into the hells.
That the hells were filled with various treasures that could not be found anywhere else, was also a prime reason for the ‘crusades’, and likely a strong reason for wanting to open a permanent dimensional passage to them. Whichever nation had access to such a permanent passage… would undoubtedly gain great wealth and power. It was essentially the promise of being able to colonize the hells.
After at least half an hour of talking the old monster finally stopped.
“I do not know who has put you in this time loop that seemingly defies even the Gods themselves… but they have chosen well in the stone-headed and stubborn mule that is you,” Adeltaj remarked, and Orodan decided to take that as a compliment this time.
“So then… does that mean you’re willing to teach me?”
“Yes… I haven’t had a student in nearly five-hundred years, but I suppose for someone whose talent exceeds even the most monstrous Chosen One I’ve heard of… I would be remiss to pass up on this opportunity,” the elderly man replied. “But… from talking to you, it seems you have some serious gaps in your education. Much as I detest them, an academy, even a crafting one, might do you some good down the line in a later loop just so you can broaden your horizons and pretend to be civilized.”
Orodan found himself agreeing. Adeltaj spoke of many things regarding politics, kingdoms and skills that Orodan didn’t really know about. Such things were undoubtedly taught in theory classes in an academy or imparted onto the children of wealthier families by their parents. In contrast, Orodan was but a brutish bumpkin with no proper education.
Stolen story; please report.
“That being said, we will start your training now,” Adeltaj remarked, and Orodan got a bad feeling in his gut. “I never quite liked the academy way of coddling youths in a classroom and a controlled environment. Given how you’ve told me you acquired your high rarity skills, it only makes sense to push you this way.”
Adeltaj Simarji’s hand came up, and he took a stance. And Orodan knew he was in for a world of pain.
***
The wisdom and knowledge of seven-hundred years of life must have amounted to something, for Adeltaj Simarji was a better teacher than his militia trainers by a mile.
Orodan received severe beatings in which he was pressed in each and every combat skill he had to the utmost limit of their levels, but he never went to a level Orodan could not reach yet. And he constantly pressured Orodan into adapting, experimenting and improving his skill levels every time he used them.
And once Orodan was utterly bloodied and his body devastated, Adeltaj would force him to hone his crafting skills while near the brink of death. He would also impose additional ‘training challenges’ such as stomping on Orodan’s hands and turning them to a mangled mess, thereby forcing him to craft with his feet. Or he would punch Orodan’s eyes and cause them to swell, thereby making him craft while blind.
It was utterly horrendous, but it was good training.
So, the day went. Thirty minutes spent taking a beating which put him near death, with two hours spent resting and crafting as his Unyielding Vitality allowed him to now heal and recover over that time.
Adeltaj was a very demanding teacher, but he never once left Orodan without explanations at critical junctions. He would only not fully explain something if he thought Orodan would be better served intuitively understanding it himself, and in those cases he would explicitly say so. Such as when Orodan wondered how to improve Unyielding Vitality further, and Adeltaj simply hinted that he was wasting time setting his own bones in place manually.
And incredulously, his skill levels showed growth; all in a single loop which he had only spent six hours in!
“Truly, you are a glutton for punishment. I had a hunch that this sort of training might be most effective for you,” the old man snarkily remarked. “But compared to being torn apart by a reanimated undead, is this not easier?”
In a sense it was, but it also wasn’t. Orodan received a break every time he died at the hands of the undead Demonic Berserker where he woke up in his bed again.
The constant hours long torture he was facing now however, was genuinely exhausting. But it was rewarding.
“I suppose it is…” Orodan remarked. Which was apparently the wrong thing to say as Adeltaj felt that the intensity of the training could now be increased.
The recovery times were now halved, and Orodan was essentially forced to mentally pressure his body to regenerate mid-beating if he wanted to keep up.
The third cycle of this yielded a beautiful result.
[New Skill (Exquisite) → Regeneration 1]
And his wounds began to visibly heal at a far faster pace than simply Unyielding Vitality would allow. And the old man smiled eerily.
“There we are. Was that Regeneration? The accounts of how one would go about acquiring that skill always were spotty, but it’s good to know the old and reliable method of guided torture turned out to be true,” Adeltaj spoke, and Orodan nodded. “Now then, we can shorten the rest times even further.”
And even more beatings came his way.
Eventually however, the announcement played and Orodan’s eyes widened.
“Old man! The ancient machine is about to awaken!”
“Yes? And? Does that mean your training is to stop? And here I thought you were the diligent sort… tsk, tsk.”
“But… it’ll destroy the entire county and your whole house!” Orodan tried protesting, but all he received in response was a beating.
And then in the distance as he was thrashed, he saw the ancient metallic beast awaken, and the jewel on its forehead glow red, and even Adeltaj Simarji stopped the beating he was delivering for a moment to simply unfurl his weapon.
The tidal wave of destructive red mana crossed the distance, and the old man simply spun.
It was impossible to keep track of how fast the man was spinning, but the very air around him, in the surrounding miles, began to spin with him.
And in the aftermath, the destructive wave of red mana that annihilated the rest of whatever it touched, seemed to avoid the town of Velestok and the surrounding miles altogether.
The old man was the eye of a storm, everything else outside of the range of the winds from his skill was utterly devastated by the red mana.
[Quest Failed → Battle of Ogdenborough – Ogdenborough has been completely destroyed]
Orodan didn’t have the time to care about such a Quest message right now.
“Haven’t used that one in a while… good to see it still works as intended.”
What even was this monstrous old man? Was this his teacher?
And it clicked in Orodan’s mind that he obviously couldn’t see the entirety of the county from wherever he was at the time of the destruction. And that certain places undoubtedly had their own preparations and countermeasures due to knowing about the awakening of the ancient machine ahead of time.
“If you’re this strong why don’t you just destroy that machine?” Orodan incredulously asked.
“While I could trash that rusty old thing… it would upset the pampered children who want to use it to open a passage to the hells. And then they’d go crying to their ancestors, and I’d face an awkward meeting about why I violated the Grandmaster non-interference pact.”
Grandmaster.
Orodan didn’t think it was a real level one could reach.
Of course, stories and legends spoke about them. But in the fictional and metaphorical sense, as an ideal to aspire to. In practice, the average person could go their entire life not seeing even an Elite. To the common masses, Adepts were the most they would see, and even then, from a distance most of the time.
The Republic’s official education system never confirmed the existence of even Masters.
So, for the existence of Grandmasters, the mythical status attained at level 100 of a skill?
Unfathomable.
“Grandmasters… are real?”
“I know your education was lacking in your formative years, but surely you can count past the number ninety?”
He could of course count past ninety, but Orodan couldn’t even muster the indignation at the insult. The revelation that Grandmasters were real and that his teacher was one who could also defend a wide area the size of an entire town against the county destroying attack of an ancient war machine, was quite shocking.
“I know that skill levels beyond ninety exist, but that’s still just the realm of Masters… but 100? Such a thing’s possible?” Orodan asked.
“Of course it’s possible, and not just in one skill. As aged and talented as I am, I’m merely a Grandmaster halberdier,” Adeltaj remarked, and Orodan would take issue with calling oneself ‘merely’ a Grandmaster at anything. “And that’s almost all Grandmasters out there. But there are dual-Grandmasters and beyond out there… I’d advise caution for when your loops bring you into combat against them.”
“Incredible… I feel like a frog at the bottom of a well, thinking the sky I saw till now was the world…” Orodan muttered.
“But that’s enough of that. It’s time to resume your training, you’ve been slacking a bit much… how the work ethic of the youth has fallen… tsk, tsk.”
And so Orodan’s battering resumed.
***
It was an interesting experience, to see how the Republic reacted to what was essentially an entire county being destroyed. And in some ways the reaction was in line with what he expected. Silver-feathered griffin riders furiously fluttered about in the horizon, likely heading to and from towns that had managed to defend themselves via whatever countermeasures they had.
But what was surprising was the pair of actual dragon-riders that began doing flyovers throughout the area, maintaining a distance from the metallic war machine, but never turning away from it.
He’d often heard stories about the fabled dragon flight which made their home upon the Altazhar mountain range and how they were allied with the Republic of Aden. But to see actual dragon riders was another thing altogether.
After another hour, the machine began to move, Mount Castarian was destroyed as it fully moved out of its resting grounds, and it began moving towards the Novarrian side of the mountain.
“You worry overly much my stubborn student,” Adeltaj Simarji spoke. “The Republic isn’t as unprepared for that machine as you think.”
“But… even if those dragon-riders were on standby in case it decided to try again… just how much of the county was destroyed? How many towns survived?”
“Perhaps a handful of important population centers were protected and everywhere else with important assets was evacuated to these places,” the old man spoke. “I reckon Trumbetton is fine for example.”
“But what about the common folk in the rest of the towns?” Orodan asked, a bitter feeling in his gut.
“What about them? Given your upbringing you should know how the world is boy, the strong are valued and the weak are expendable,” the old Simarji said, a forlorn and bitter tone in his voice.
“But… there were thousands upon thousands of people in the smaller towns. Maybe more than a million if put together… how can the Republic just allow the mass butchery of its citizens?” Orodan asked with heat in his voice.
“Well, they didn’t exactly allow it now did they? As you saw in your first life, an attempt to storm Mount Castarian was made. The attempt failed,” the old man answered bluntly.
In response, Orodan could say nothing. Technically, the Republic did send a response to Eversong Plaza, but they hadn’t succeeded. Whether due to being short on time or the forces of Novarria being too strong, he didn’t know. And as a result, he estimated over a million people had died.
That the majority of Volarbury County’s population had been devastated… was tragic, but nothing out of the ordinary in their world. The Adepts and above had been protected, as were critical population centers, and the pair of dragon-riders on standby were the insurance policy in case the machine piloted by the Novarrians tried pressing the matter.
The Republic had vied for control of the machine and had lost. If they’d won, Adeltaj had said they’d have done the same to the towns on the Novarrian side.
In time, the county’s population would recover, aided by magic and the assistance of the Cathedral of the Prime Five and its priesthood and resources. In the grand scheme of things, to Masters and above, the devastation of an entire county really was but a blip in the hundreds of years that their lives could carry on for.
It wasn’t even a particularly bad tragedy.
He was no bleeding heart. Growing up, as a starving street rat he had killed someone else over a piece of stale jerky. He was a warrior who had killed and been killed throughout the time loops.
But Orodan still felt the embers of dissatisfaction at the outcome burn in his heart.
He resolved that he would one day start trashing that stupid machine in every single loop.
He owed Old Man Hannegan and that raggedy looking architect in Ogdenborough that much at least.
***
It was an absolutely surreal experience to have the day pass and not be awoken by the harpies flying over Ogdenborough. But Orodan had, for the first time, survived the day.
His high skill levels meant he didn’t need to sleep any more, but seeing the moon rise and the sun come up again even as he kept receiving beatings signified a first for him.
Adeltaj kept pushing him, claiming that at his level he didn’t need to rest like an untrained commoner thanks to his Physical Fitness and vitality skills. His skill levels were steadily rising throughout the course of the days of continuous, uninterrupted training.
After three days of continuous fighting at full power, Orodan began to feel exhausted.
On the fourth day of continuous battle, he was at the complete bottom of all of his energy reserves. His soul was strained providing whatever fuel it could to his constant All-Strikes, his Mana Black Hole reserves were completely dry, and the stamina of his physical body was utterly spent as well.
He had always died before reaching such a point in the past loops. But this time he survived the day, and the ensuing four days of continuous combat without any rest whatsoever, had finally allowed him to experience what actual exhaustion felt like. Something he’d almost forgotten about.
The ‘crafting’ breaks stopped once he acquired his Regeneration skill, and although it was capable of healing him scarily fast at its current level of 13, it was incredibly taxing on his stamina reserves. Healing a grievous wound via Regeneration was equivalent to the fatigue of launching an All-Strike at times.
As this went on Orodan genuinely felt as though he would black out from exertion.
The power his soul could provide was running on fumes, his mana was nil, and his stamina was spent. Every single shred of energy was nearly gone. Even his vitality was now dangerously low thanks to the constant beating, and he didn’t have enough stamina in his body to recover his life force via Regeneration and Unyielding Vitality any longer.
“Feel like taking a break? I fear I might’ve pushed you too hard there,” Adeltaj said in a most infuriatingly smug tone. “Come, let’s get to crafting, the progress is good enough for this session.”
But Orodan refused to stop.
So what if all of his energy reserves were running dangerously low? He could legitimately kill himself with overexertion at this point.
But since when did Orodan Wainwright fear death?
He responded to the old man by launching another All-Strike, one that he squeezed a desperate amount of energy out of his soul for.
He was so close to understanding something.
From all this fighting he came to understand that the soul was the basis of all energy production. It produced both its own unique source of power, he called this soul energy, and it could also produce a faint amount of mana, undoubtedly where mages got their mana pools from.
The soul also produced a certain amount of vitality naturally, but it was an incredibly small amount, likely meant to help children grow. His Regeneration ad Unyielding Vitality produced large amounts of vitality whenever he used them, but they drained high amounts of his stamina and left him fatigued.
And finally, Orodan felt that as his reserves of everything were completely empty, he realized the very beginning of it all was his soul. Soul energy was naturally converted to mana.
He felt that if he went down this path, he could obtain a skill which allowed him to recover stamina… but merely this wasn’t what he wanted! He knew there was something more grand tying it all together.
And so, he strained, and he struggled, and as his vision nearly blacked out even Adeltaj looked concerned. The old man was about to order him to stop when he finally understood it.
The soul produced soul energy. This soul energy was naturally converted to mana, the mana could be converted to vitality, and the vitality could be converted to stamina. The soul energy then was the original energy that was converted to and fuelled all of his energy sources.
So, what he really needed was soul energy.
And the driving force of his soul, of the production rate of the soul energy itself… was his own willpower and concentration. He had Soul Manipulation, and vaguely he could sense his soul and the ability to push it even harder than it naturally ran. And if he willed it, it could produce even more soul energy, but at the cost of making his soul feel as though it was exploding.
But who was he? Orodan had the sort of willpower that would make him stand tall in the face of thousands of deaths and eternal torture. Pushing his soul harder than safe wasn’t something he feared.
So, he finally brought it all together…
…and ignited his soul.
The pain was horrific. Yet he persisted.
Forcing it to burn faster and faster, even as the very bounds of his soul strained and wanted to falter.
He felt his soul tremble dangerously and the all-consuming pain nearly overwhelmed him, but he clamped his endless willpower down on it and forced it to endure. Another part of his concentration drove the rest of his willpower to churn and spin his soul faster and faster, to produce more and more power at an increasing rate.
Anybody else would have been driven insane and would have lost their personality as their soul went out of control, exploded, and caused their body to explode in a deluge of energy.
But Orodan was not anyone else.
His willpower was infinite. He would demand his soul withstand the pressure it was under, while also pumping the soul energy production of it to unprecedented levels.
And this increased soul energy came like an eternal reactor, and it fuelled all of his other energy pools.
Eternal. He would never cease.
A reactor which produced power…
…an Eternal Soul Reactor.
[New Skill (Mythical) → Eternal Soul Reactor 1]
[Title Gained → Wielder Of A Mythical Skill]
Everything seemed far brighter, but in reality Orodan’s eyes were glowing white, and soul energy leaked out of his pores.
“Wait… stop! You’ll cause serious damage to your soul even if you wake up back in time!” Adeltaj exclaimed, in a rare show of utter seriousness for once.
His militia training had warned of soul mages and their potential to use suicidal last-ditch attacks which involved igniting the soul to cause a terrifying explosion. What he was doing was the equivalent of someone setting their soul aflame to kill themselves, but Orodan’s incredible willpower clamped down on the boundaries of his soul and prevented it from exploding.
Like an explosive about to go off.
His soul was akin to a boiling pot of sealed water, and as the water boiled hotter and hotter the walls of the pot couldn’t take it anymore. Except Orodan was using his own titanic willpower to continuously strengthen the container that was his soul as the process escalated.
And the next All-Strike that Orodan launched, carried the fuel of almost a tenth of a full Mana Black Hole empowered strike. A dramatic step up in power output from the pitiful All-Strike he launched before.
His wounds began healing as Regeneration was empowered by his new inexplicable well of energy.
Suddenly, he was smashed into the ground by an incredibly strong blow, far stronger than he’d ever received before from the old man.
Yet Orodan still got up.
“Sorry about this boy… but if you really are in a time loop, then I do this for your own good…” Adeltaj Simarji remarked, as his halberd unfurled.
And soon, a second strike blasted Orodan straight into the ground and he lost all sense in his body. His organs, limbs, head, all utterly obliterated.
Calling him a glowing white pile of flesh on the ground wouldn’t be inaccurate.
But…
…he still kept Regenerating.
The energy kept flooding in from his soul, fuelling his skills. His soul felt as though it would utterly explode if he let his concentration slip even the slightest bit. If his utter focus flagged even a bit, he would die and cause horrendous lasting damage to his own soul.
But his bottomless willpower did not allow it.
And as multiple seconds passed, even Adeltaj Simarji stopped his motions for a second attack which would have turned the pile of meat that was Orodan into complete ash and base particles.
“How… is your soul not exploded yet?” the old man asked incredulously as Orodan slowly reformed before his eyes. His Regeneration and Unyielding Vitality skills weren’t normally anywhere near this strong, but when powered by an inexplicably bottomless source of energy… even low-level skills could become frightening. “…you set your soul alight, didn’t you?”
Orodan finally reformed enough to reply. His body was in ruins, and whatever he was Regenerating was actively being broken down by the sheer amount of soul energy coursing through him, but he spoke.
“No old man… this… is a new skill,” he spoke even as the white light of his soul spilled forth from every opening he had and caused damage on his body that was furiously healed by Regeneration and yet re-damaged again.
“Well put a stop to it this instant or I’ll be forced to actually kill you! I can sense the rate of soul energy generation from you is increasing by the second… if you don’t stop, you’ll kill yourself. Your body isn’t strong enough to house so much energy at your level,” the old Grandmaster spoke furiously. He almost seemed concerned.
Orodan felt as though the momentum was too high currently, he really was going to have a hard time stopping this new skill of his.
So, he began converting the soul energy to something that he could house safely within himself.
He began converting the soul energy into mana.
The process was slower than he would like, but even the slow conversion of this much soul energy into mana, dramatically eased the pressure on his body. He began siphoning the mana into his Mana Black Hole skill, and it hungrily began absorbing it.
And it devoured and devoured, till Mana Black Hole was filled thirty percent of the way to full and the skill even gained a level. Finally, the rampant soul energy running through him subsided.
And Orodan’s new Mythical skill began winding down as the lack of escalating damage to his own body allowed him to focus on dialling back the insanely increased soul power generation of his soul.
As his new skill simmered down, Orodan reflected on the fact that a single use of it was enough to fill Mana Black Hole to thirty percent of its prior reserves. And thirty percent of that previous amount meant that he had generated mana comparable to a third of what the ancient war machine released.
That was… inconceivable.
“Kid!” the halberd wielding sage exclaimed. “What the hell was that? What rarity is that skill?”
Orodan himself hesitated for a moment as the unknown rarity was one he’d never heard of before.
“I don’t know, it says Mythical.”
The clearing went silent after that.
Adeltaj Simarji’s face… it became unusually stoic.
“You… you should probably call upon the Blessing Malzim gave you… if you really are in a time loop, this is your only way out now,” the old man solemnly said.
Orodan came to learn why, a few seconds after.
The sky began blazing gold, and in the sky a comet appeared to be streaking… right towards them.
Before a second passed, it reached their position, like a mighty bolt of celestial light.
And upon the dust and light clearing, Orodan’s blood ran cold at the sight of Lady Lakshiya, her eyes burning gold, her skin cracked and her body far more damaged than it was last time. This was a host that wasn’t expected to survive becoming an Avatar.
But it wasn’t her anymore. It was an Avatar of Ilyatana.
“I sensed the threads of fate rippling all over the world… and they originate from here. How fortunate that a Favored of mine was so close… tell me, who here acquired a Mythical skill?”
“Whatever way out you have… use it now boy… even Grandmasters are swatted away like pests before the might of an Avatar, especially one whose host isn’t going to be living.”
Given his last experience with this dangerous and manipulative Goddess, Orodan wisely heeded the advice and called upon the Blessing of Malzim.
***
A keening wail ringing in the night sky awoke him, and Orodan immediately got to his feet.
Mythical.
What even was this rarity that caused the Avatar of a Goddess to descend upon him? The stronger he got… the more problems and complications that came with it. Frankly, he wouldn’t be surprised if at some point his very awakening at the start of a loop began to trigger alarms or cause certain parties to seek him out.
That being said, it wasn’t a bad result at all.
For as much as the training with Adeltaj Simarji had been harsh, it had also been effective.
And he was eager to repeat the tutelage and see just how much of his potential he could unveil by repeatedly grinding out some training with the man.
He still had more to learn, and a new Mythical skill to wield in battle.
