Triopals
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Chapter 3
🕑 Added 2024-10-14 16:35:00 +0000 UTCNathan had become irrelevant to everyone. Most had access to PsiLink and could easily look up information about him. A disciple who only reached Phase 2.5 by the end of his second year wasn't worth much attention. Even if he possessed some extraordinary skill, staying at Tier 1 rendered it useless.
He retreated to the back of the crowd, anxious about the rewards. Finding a rocky outcrop to sit on, he focused on the system interface.
Do you want to use your rolls now?
Y/N
Seeing no reason to hesitate, Nathan gave a mental 'yes'.
Starting Ultra Rare Skill Roll
Congratulations! You received an Ultra Rare Skill -- [Martial Art Mastery]
Rare and above skills give you one bonus roll
Starting normal rolls
You received [Self Emotional Support]
You received [Bad Mouth]
You received [Flowing Strikes]
If it were possible, onlookers would've seen three enormous question marks hovering above Nathan's head.
What kind of bizarre skills are these? he grumbled internally. And what’s with this scammy gacha system?
Pushing his questions aside, Nathan focused on his first ultra-rare skill.
[Martial Art Mastery]
Description: Gain deep knowledge in Martial Arts.
Hidden Effect: ???
As Nathan pondered how it worked, his brain felt like it was being squeezed and kneaded. He fell to his knees as an enormous influx of knowledge flooded his mind. He could see hazy figures moving their arms and legs in various rhythms - some with powerful attacks, others with gentle approaches, some focused on speed, and others on endurance. Every move in a fight was calculated for victory. He felt as if he were embodying different animals, mimicking their attack patterns. Striking with the force of a bear's paw, clawing like a tiger, running and leaping like a leopard, or roaring like a lion in the depths of a jungle. Despite the relentless headache, Nathan found himself mimicking these movements.
A deep, resonant roar erupted from him, startling everyone nearby. Their instincts kicked in, and those close to Nathan immediately assumed defensive stances. But when they turned and saw it was just the Phase 2.5 guy from earlier, they felt foolish. A few were about to approach Nathan to teach him a lesson when a proctor spoke up.
"No fighting. And Nathan, if you cause any more trouble, your results will be nullified!"
Nathan heard none of this. His mind was busy processing and absorbing everything. Now, he was analyzing what he'd learned. Force Fist, Palm, and Kick were truly weak techniques. Even the accompanying martial forms were riddled with flaws. The [Martial Art Mastery] skill relentlessly sought out errors and ways to correct them. His mind even flashed to Zahra Kinyara's attack. From just one strike, he could roughly analyze the attack pattern and how mana was manipulated to execute it. If not for the excruciating headache, he knew he could recreate it, if not perfectly, then at least close to it.
While Nathan groaned, tears streaming down his face, his test group was nearing its final participant.
The exam concluded swiftly, with most returning happily to their dormitories or other tasks. A few who failed could only accept their fate and meet with the external affairs manager to leave the sect, a fitting outcome for those who had been lazy or neglectful.
The proctor from the fourth group lingered, observing the disciple curled up on the distant rock. She couldn't understand what was happening to him, but she sensed that not only his mana but also his blood and organs were heating up as if undergoing refinement. With a mix of concern and duty, she approached him.
"Nathan!" she called.
But the disciple continued to tremble like he was having a seizure, oblivious to her presence.
Her brow furrowed, her gaze turning steely. A mere Tier 1, Phase 2.5 disciple daring to ignore a Tier 2, Phase 6 like herself?
"Nathan!" she called again, but this time her voice was concentrated, amplifying its intensity to pierce directly into his ears.
He jolted, his head snapping up, eyes wide open, emanating an aura of supreme skill - a deadly yet eerily calm gaze of a master. The proctor instinctively took a step back. She couldn't understand why she reacted this way. It was just a look, but it had triggered a part of her enhanced sixth sense, a benefit of reaching Tier 2.
After shaking his head, Nathan regained his senses. The headache gradually receded, and he felt like a new person. His gaze returned to that of a lost and timid individual.
"Nathan Reed!" the proctor called out once more, irritation now evident in her voice. "Elder Kyron of the Outer Sect has summoned you. You'd best not keep him waiting!"
He looked in the direction her finger was pointing. There, in the shadow of the cliff face, stood a figure.
Bowing his head and apologizing to the proctor, he quickly made his way to the man dressed in simple gray attire.
As he drew closer, Nathan saw that Kyron was a middle-aged man with a crew cut and a stern face. Scars above his chin stood out despite the shadows. He had a broad nose above wide lips. His build was stocky, almost chubby, but exuded an invisible pressure. Nathan guessed that beneath the seemingly patched-together clothing were well-defined muscles capable of sending him to the next world without even using mana.
"I apologize for keeping you waiting, Elder," Nathan began, knowing Kyron had seen everything. "And thank you for taking the time to see me."
Kyron waved dismissively, his eyes slowly opening to gaze languidly at Nathan. It was clear he was weary of dealing with this outer sect disciple's issues. But a task assigned must be completed according to one's duties.
"Nathan Reed," a lazy yet rumbling voice emerged, "you know you should have failed, right?"
Nathan stared at the elder, bewildered. Hadn't he scored enough points to pass?
"I personally instructed Vivian to give you that result. Do you know why?"
"Because it's the law of Verdant Spire Sect," Nathan stammered.
"Yes, yes, the sect's laws must be followed," Kyron smiled. "But not always."
Nathan remained silent.
"Giving disciples an extra year is to provide them with another chance. Even though the odds are low, the sect wants to recover its investment and interest. You're 24 now, much older than other disciples. Surely you understand better than anyone that nothing comes for free, right?"
Nathan nodded.
"But the premise is that we must base it on ability assessment," Kyron continued. "Besides other evaluations, there are some shared by proctors, outer sect elders, and inner sect elders. After calculations, Nathan Reed, do you know what your rating is for Verdant Spire Sect?"
"Zero points, Elder?" The life seemed to drain from Nathan with each word.
"Ah, if we're talking points, it would be negative," Kyron chuckled, the sound like pebbles grinding together. "You're ranked alongside sect traitors. A disciple with a 'detrimental' rating, bringing nothing but disadvantage to the sect. A disciple for whom the sect must accept as a complete loss of investment."
Nathan's posture slumped, staring blankly at the elder before him. Surely he hadn't done anything to harm the sect.
"Confusing, isn't it?" Kyron raised an eyebrow, regarding the outer sect disciple as if he were an amusing joke. "Tell me, Nathan, how many years do you estimate it will take you to reach Tier 2?"
"Elder, I..."
"Ten years," Kyron cut him off. "A whole decade. Do you know that in ten years, we could train five Tier 2 disciples? Even if the sect were to extend third-year benefits to you, what do you think you could accomplish?"
"I would try to participate in missions," Nathan leaned forward, answering quickly, as if grasping at a sliver of hope.
"How naive," Kyron began to laugh loudly, slapping his knee from his seated position on the ground. "How ridiculous! Should I call you a child in an adult's body? You? A Tier 1, Phase 2.5, taking on missions? Who would assign them to you? Who would approve? Who would trust you? Even for team missions, who would give you a spot, huh?"
Nathan felt bombarded by each question. He truly hadn't known that missions needed approval from someone else. He had naively thought it would be as simple as going to a notice board and grabbing one. But deep down, he knew things weren't that simple; he had just been trying to avoid giving up halfway.
"And that's not even considering your age. No young team would accept a useless old man into their group."
"Shit!" The word burst from Nathan's mouth before he could stop it.
Triggered [Bad Mouth]. One credit given.
Nathan didn’t need to read the skill description to know how troublesome this newly acquired skill was.
Kyron’s eyes twinkled with dark amusement. "Sect doesn’t need another janitor, Nathan. It needs useful people. From all the records we’ve gathered on you, we don’t care how you managed to scrape by this exam—whether it was luck, talent, or some freak ability. The sect isn’t interested. Do you know why?"
"Because the sect doesn't lack geniuses," Nathan replied bitterly.
"Correct! You understand that much. Even if you could reach Tier 1, Phase 9, even if the damage you could inflict might harm a Tier 2, it would be meaningless. Because no Tier 2 would stand still to let a Tier 1 hit them. Wouldn't it be faster to shoot a Mana Bullet from afar? What would you do in that situation? And ten years. Mother of all, ten years! It's truly laughable. Do you think people will wait for you? In ten years, they'll be Tier 3 already. You'd be nothing more than an ant at that point."
Nathan stood frozen, his hands lacking the strength even to clench into fists at these harsh words. Because they were the truth. And the truth often hurt.
"So," Kyron didn't stop, "back to the initial question I asked you, why did I let you pass? It's because our sect leader is a kind person, always reminding us to handle matters peacefully and thoroughly. This Nathan Reed here is a diligent disciple; we all know this through the monitoring system. So letting you pass is to offer you the choice of graduating from the outer sect."
"Graduate?" Nathan echoed.
"That's right. You can choose to continue to the third year, but all the privileges set by the sect will not be extended to you. As I said, the sect's laws are based on the probability of success. And for a detrimental case like you, don't even dream of it. Support costs like discounts, free training rooms, and accommodation will all be withdrawn. Or you can choose to graduate now, and the sect will compensate you. In short, the sect will waive your tuition debt since you did pass the exam. But if you want to stay for the third year, well, you can imagine how the costs will pile up on you."
This meant there was only one real choice. Having no points to pay was tantamount to being expelled.
"Is there no option for a supporting profession, Elder?"
Kyron’s eyes darkened, and a wave of pressure from the Tier 3 elder washed over Nathan, forcing him to his knees.
"Know your place, you useless wretch. We gave you the chance to choose a supporting profession, but you didn't take it. So don't dream about it now. The moment you stood on that platform today, this was the only possible outcome. Now, make your choice!"
"I..." Nathan tried to speak but immediately clamped his mouth shut.
His fear of Kyron paled in comparison to the fear of never seeing his mother again or being unable to help Jessica. Twenty-two years of his life had been unremarkable, yet life had allowed him to meet two such good people. His mother was a small, warm sun, never placing any burden on his shoulders, even though his father had left early, leaving behind unnamed responsibilities. She had never told him to become anyone specific and was always happy to see him as himself. A normal boy with a normal life. A normal smile that showed utmost happiness. That was enough.
His eyes welled up as he remembered when her illness first worsened.
"My sweet child," she had held his hand, her voice still full of faith in life, "when I forget you, it feels like being lost in darkness. But gradually, your storytelling has cracked that shield of night. Until light shines through, guiding me back. My grown-up son has become a little sun himself."
And here he was now, leaving his mother in perpetual darkness.
As for Jessica, that kind-hearted girl, the only one who jumped in when she saw him floundering in the lake during the team-building exercise. While trying to save him, she was sucked in by a whirlpool at the bottom of the lake, bringing both of them to this world. Though fruitless, he understood the debt he owed her. His motivation regarding her might not be as strong as for his mother, but it was still a debt he had to repay.
His fingers slid across the ground, curling into fists, teeth biting his lip, eyes squeezed shut in a burning struggle against the negative spiral tightening in his chest.
I cannot give up. I still can do it. I have the ability.
Triggered [Self Emotional Support]. One credit given.
Nathan didn't see the notification, nor did he have time to wonder why these words of self-encouragement suddenly popped into his mind. He clung to them, gripping them tightly, his mind spinning through possibilities. Suffering and anguish would bring nothing. He needed a plan.
He now had [Martial Art Mastery] to support him. He could even formulate viable strategies to face Zarah Kinyara despite the level gap. He realized he wouldn't be completely outmatched; at the very least, he'd be able to dodge attacks and counterattack a few times before admitting defeat.
The system. Yes, there was still the system. Two years of relentless waiting surely couldn't end so simply. The journey couldn't just stop here. If he were expelled from Verdant Spire Sect now, it would leave a black mark on his record. Other organizations wouldn't accept him. The benefits from his 'Above Average' evaluation were long gone. Through PsiLink, anyone could easily see the near-zero abilities he currently possessed. Regular jobs would ensure he'd never amount to anything in this life. Just by staying in Verdant Spire Sect, utilizing everything at his disposal, the system could help him. A new technique, a new life.
"The outer disciple tournament," Nathan burst out, his head still bowed.
The pressure intensified for a moment, forcing him flat against the ground, unable to breathe. A second later, it all dissipated, and he gasped for air.
Kyron laughed, pulling Nathan to his feet. "You really are crazy, aren’t you, boy?"
After catching his breath, Nathan replied.
"If I become an inner disciple, surely those limitations won't apply, right?"
The outer sect elder stroked his chin, tilting his head as he regarded the disciple before him. His stern expression gradually transformed into one of interest and anticipation.
"Everyone else said it wouldn't be a problem," Kyron said. "If you can surpass the others to become an inner disciple, it would prove they're more useless than the useless one, entering the inner sect only to take up space."
Nathan couldn't hide his excitement.
"But," Kyron held up a finger, "there's a catch. If you fail, the sect will still expel you without a graduation certificate. Of course, the tuition debt will have to be paid as usual."
Unsurprised, Nathan nodded.
"Thank you to the elders for giving me this opportunity."
"Don't know if it's an opportunity or a punishment," Kyron sneered. "But I'm truly looking forward to seeing what kind of spectacle you'll make, Nathan Reed."
Nathan bowed to Kyron. When he looked up, the man in the simple attire had vanished, leaving only a cool breeze in the fading daylight.
Zeryn found his friend lying dejectedly on the bed. Nathan's room remained unchanged, with belongings neither arranged nor packed.
"Holy crap," Zeryn shouted, "you actually passed!"
Nathan didn't bother turning, just waving his hand listlessly.
"Damn," Zeryn muttered, eyes wide with disappointment, "my bet money."
Hearing this, Nathan rolled over, glaring at his tactless friend.
"You little fu..." Nathan managed to cover his mouth before finishing the sentence.
Triggered [Bad Mouth]. One credit given.
This damn skill, he cursed internally.
Zeryn chuckled, his mood instantly shifting as he sauntered over to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Why so glum, chum?"
Nathan really wanted to punch his friend for that half-concerned, half-flippant expression.
"It's complicated. Telling you won't change anything anyway."
"Who knows? Come on, what's on your mind?"
"I'm going to participate in the outer sect tournament next month!"
As expected, Zeryn's jaw dropped so low you could fit an elbow in it. Nathan was about to do just that when Zeryn pushed him away.
"Damn," Zeryn smirked, his eyes full of admiration, "I thought I was the craziest one in this sect. Turns out there's someone even crazier today."
"Thanks for the compliment."
"Well, competing for the experience is fine, but try not to get yourself killed. Fatal injuries are expensive to treat."
Nathan didn't need such warnings; even with his limited information, he understood he was jumping into the fire.
"So why are you still lying here instead of partying?" Zeryn asked.
"Who'd invite me?" Nathan replied glumly, lying back down.
"Who needs an invitation? Just show up, it'll be fine."
Seeing his friend's optimism, Nathan could only shake his head. The incident at the training ground had surely been seen and spread across PsiLink chat groups by now. Parties were fun, but being the subject of mockery wasn't exactly conducive to a celebratory mood.
Zeryn waited for Nathan's response, then shifted, thoughtfully stroking his chin.
"If you won't join a party, let's throw our own," Zeryn suggested.
Nathan squinted, an uneasy feeling rising in his gut.
"Don't look at me like that," Zeryn said sternly. "I'm serious! Just the two of us hanging out. Nothing but chill vibes. OK?"
Touched by the effort, Nathan found himself nodding. He did need to let himself relax a bit; the past few days had been nothing but pressure.
Zeryn jumped up excitedly, spreading his arms wide with pride.
"Excellent, comrade Nathan. I shall introduce you to one of the finest spots in this sect."
Playing along with the dramatic gesture, Nathan feigned enthusiasm and asked, "Where might that be?"
"The open-air hot springs behind South Mountain."
Nathan shuddered, remembering it was one of the restricted areas.
Before he could speak, Zeryn cut him off.
"Shh, shh. I know what you're thinking, but remember, I'm an inner disciple. Outer disciple restrictions don't apply to me!"
Nathan nodded, seeing the logic in that.
"So, rest assured. Today, I promise to help you blow off some steam and have the best night ever!"
With that, Zeryn quickly grabbed Nathan's shoulder and pulled him along.
Outside, night had fallen, and lights throughout the Sect had been lit. Even after two years, Nathan still felt overwhelmed by the landscape the Sect had built around the mountains, sea, and rivers. Verdant Spire Sect was renowned not just as one of the powerful factions, but also for its architecture that adapted to the surrounding environment. Some residential areas were built in ancient trees, with wooden bridges connecting the houses, and below were devices like floating elevators operated by mana. Elsewhere, rooms were built into hillsides or mountain slopes overlooking the valley near the river below. Nathan's room was in one of the minimalist modern buildings by the riverside; if he wanted, he could go up to the roof to admire the picturesque scenery as moonlight reflected off the water, making the entire southern area shimmer.
Everyone was gathering in the common area to celebrate the day. A makeshift stage had even been set up for singing or playing games by the drinking tables. Nathan saw a young man kneeling to confess to a young woman, holding a freshly bloomed flower that emitted a soft blue glow.
As he was gawking, Zeryn pulled Nathan to the food table. Abundant skewers of grilled meat were laid out alongside fruits grown in the valley. Next to them were fruit wines left to ferment.
Handing Nathan a meat skewer, Zeryn began his operation. He flipped his hair, which flowed like waves, and smiled at the girl managing the food. He didn't say a word, and the girl became shy, lowering her head.
"Ahem," Zeryn started, to ease the awkwardness. "Do you know who I am?"
The girl with large, round eyes looked him up and down. Apart from finding him handsome, she knew nothing. Today, he was wearing casual clothes instead of inner disciple attire.
"I don't know," the girl replied.
Zeryn's movements froze at her response. This wasn't how things usually went. Normally, he'd be welcomed, with people cheering and asking for photos. The inner sect star suddenly felt quite devalued.
"You could check PsiLink for more information," he suggested.
"That's probably not necessary!" the girl refused immediately. "I need to keep an eye on everything around here."
He was about to say more when Nathan, unable to contain his laughter, pulled him away.
"No," Zeryn protested, struggling. "My honor can't be left like this."
His friend was just putting on a show to save face; a Tier 2 like him could easily overpower Nathan anytime if he wanted.
That girl was just a special case, because at every place the two passed, many eyes focused on Zeryn. So, in the end, he got what he wanted from another table: a whole barrel of fruit wine.
Once they were away from the crowd, Zeryn looked at Nathan.
"Ready for a ride?"
"Really?" Nathan asked, full of anticipation.
"I just learned how to do this!"
With that, Zeryn took out the sword he usually kept at his waist from his spatial ring. He twirled it dramatically, then threw it forward. It hovered in mid-air, then grew larger, its width just enough to sit on.
Zeryn gestured grandly towards Nathan.
"New passenger."
Nathan hesitated a bit but couldn't hide his excitement. He stepped forward and pressed his hand on the sword; it dipped slightly but became immovable when he applied more force. Then he sat on it, legs dangling on either side as if riding a horse.
"Well?" Zeryn asked, arms crossed proudly. "Feels good, right?"
Nathan gave a thumbs up, unable to wait any longer.
Zeryn didn't prolong the moment either. With a nimble movement, he jumped up to sit in front of Nathan, near the sword's tip. Then the sword began to move, lifting them into the air.
"Sword-riding technique is amazing!" Nathan marveled.
"Of course it is," Zeryn said, nose in the air.
When they reached the height of the building tops, the sword slowly moved forward. Nathan sat behind, letting the night breeze brush across his face, improving his mood considerably. Below, trees and outer sect disciples drifted by. Some pointed up with admiration. Above was the moon and a patch of clear, purple-tinged sky that looked utterly enchanting. He took a deep breath, inhaling the air of freedom.
Moving gradually southeast, they approached the peak of a mountain densely covered in trees and shrouded in unusually thick mist. Nathan guessed it was due to steam rising from the hot springs.
Zeryn leaned forward excitedly, guiding the sword to land just outside the misty area. Upon closer inspection, Nathan realized this location was quite strategic; the bathing area was enclosed by two mountain sides, like arms shielding it from the outside world.
Putting the sword back into his spatial bag, Zeryn signaled for Nathan to follow. Due to inertia, he found himself mimicking his friend's posture. Body bent low, knees flexed, always moving from behind one tree trunk to another, from one bush to the next. An alarm bell rang in Nathan's head.
"Zer, why are we sneaking around like thieves?"
Zeryn didn't turn back to answer, just gesturing behind him for Nathan to be quiet.
Filled with trepidation, Nathan continued to follow.
And then, from afar, Nathan heard sounds. The splash of objects hitting water, water splashing back and forth, and the sound of death at the threshold. The laughter of female disciples.
He was about to open his mouth to curse when Zeryn turned and covered it. Looking into his friend's panicked but no less crazed and excited eyes, Nathan just wanted to gouge them out and skewer them.
Unable to resist the strength of the beast before him, he was dragged along in futile resistance. The voices, the sound of flowing water, the pounding of his heart in his chest grew louder as they approached.
Suddenly, from the right, came a loud shout.
"WHO'S THERE?"
Nathan felt Zeryn's hand stiffen. But his wretched friend only turned to Nathan, saying with a mischievous grin:
"Run, Nate!"
Needing no further instruction, Nathan used all his strength to run after Zeryn. He vaguely saw a blurry dark shadow among the trees in the mist chasing after them. Not daring to look back, he focused on avoiding rocks and tree roots as thick as arms that covered the path. The laughter in the distance had stopped, replaced by the deathly silence of the night forest.
Zeryn, ahead, was even daring to laugh out loud. His speed was faster than Nathan's; in fact, he had to slow down to wait for his friend.
"Hurry up, Nate!" Zeryn taunted. "If you don't speed up, you're done for."
Zeryn only heard a muffled 'you' from behind as Nathan tripped over a tree root.
Triggered [Bad Mouth]. One credit given.
Nathan really wanted to curse, so he didn't understand how this skill's trigger conditions worked anymore. He should have known his friend would never do anything normal and would always choose the most idiotic method.
Party my ass!
The dark shadow clearly had a higher level than Nathan, as it was getting closer. Fortunately, they both reached the edge of the forest just in time, with open space to fly away.
Panting heavily, Nathan urged Zeryn, "Hurry up, you dog!"
Triggered [Bad Mouth]. One credit given.
"Did your mother ever tell you your mouth is full of shit?" Zeryn retorted.
"Hurry the fuck up, or this shit will be smeared all over your face!"
Triggered [Bad Mouth]. One credit given.
Zeryn giggled, no longer dawdling. The sword was thrown out, and both of them took to the air. The dark shadow had nearly reached the forest edge.
Nathan hadn't noticed before, but now he realized how slow the sword's speed was.
"Can't you go any faster?"
"I just learned this, so how can I control it well?" Zeryn defended.
"Fuck! Zer, I'm gonna kill you!"
Instead of cursing back at Nathan, Zeryn pulled out a mask and put it on.
As Nathan wondered what that action meant, the girl's scream from below rang out, filled with fury.
"STOP RIGHT THERE, YOU TWO PERVERTS!"
Nathan instinctively turned his head, a stupid action he realized in an instant. When he caught sight of the blonde hair and alluring figure wrapped in a towel, he immediately turned back, covering his face with both hands.
Keira Valaine? He thought desperately, just hoping she hadn't recognized him.
Zeryn flew further and further away amid Keira's shouts. A few female disciples also ran out, but when they saw the sword-riding technique, they all stopped. They could only report this incident. A disciple who could use sword-riding so freely must belong to the inner sect. Even the outer sect elders might not be able to do much.
As for Keira, she was still angry, vaguely remembering the image of the rude person sitting at the back. The face felt familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.
On the way back, Nathan lost count of how many times he triggered [Bad Mouth]. The skill seemed to provide a vocabulary extensive enough for him to curse Zeryn to death. His opponent was no slouch either, creating a symphony of profanities in the night sky above the outer sect. After that night, disciples discussed the two half-crazy lunatics for many days, with some even trying to learn curses from them.
After all the cursing, Nathan felt relieved, forgetting his troubles. Although very annoyed, he also felt grateful to Zeryn. Of course, he wouldn't say it out loud to give his unruly friend a chance to gloat.
Tonight was for him to enjoy a bit of joy in this world. To hell with the system and its assigned tasks.
You got a new quest: "Inner Disciple"
Objective: Become Inner Disciple by reaching top 36 of the tournament.
Rewards: A Very Rare Skill Roll, 500 credits.
Penalty when failed: None.
