Triopals
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Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2024-10-14 16:32:33 +0000 UTCNathan had to admit it—he was incompetent. Well, at least in this world. Two years had passed, and he was still stuck at Tier 1, Phase 2.5. The final exam before expulsion was tomorrow, and it seemed like nothing could stop the inevitable—failure.
The average students in the same timeframe had achieved at least Tier 1, Phase 5, the minimum level to pass the exam. With entry-level filtering in place, Nathan was arguably the worst performer in his entire cohort.
Initially rated as "Above Medium Potential," he'd received considerable expectations and support. But gradually, his fatal weakness—poor absorption of the 'Initial Advancing Pill,' a drug specifically formulated for Tier 1 to absorb necessary energy and advance through Phases—became glaringly apparent. People began relegating him to the list of failures. None of the teachers he'd encountered had answers for his abysmal conversion rate. Higher-tiered individuals, like those at Tier 3 or Tier 4, didn’t even bother with a mere Outer Disciple like him.
In other aspects, his instructors praised him. His ability to learn and absorb theoretical lessons always ranked at the top of the class. Moreover, when practicing cultivation methods, combat, or skills, he performed exceptionally well. He trained like a madman, doubling his intensity to enhance muscle and flexibility. If comparisons were made, few could match his mastery of the Force Fist, Palm, and Kick skill trio. Yet the outlook remained bleak.
Each Tier required nine Phases to advance to the next, signifying an individual's increase in power. At Nathan’s current absorption rate, it would take him at least eight more years to qualify for Tier 2—a timeline no one would wait for or invest in.. That estimate was optimistic, given that later Phases would prove even more challenging to cultivate.
"Nathan!" the combat instructor called out.
Nathan startled from his meandering thoughts, rising from beneath the tree where he'd been resting. He approached Instructor Maxim.
"Spar with Frank," Maxim said, gesturing to a young lad of about sixteen. The boy's dark brown hair was disheveled from previous exercises.
Frank bowed respectfully to Nathan. “I look forward to your guidance, senior!”
Nathan returned the gesture. From his assessment, Frank had already reached Tier 1, Phase 3. Nathan remained confident he could face the boy, drawing on his year of experience as Maxim's Teaching Assistant.
Looking into his opponent's bright, lively eyes, Nathan couldn't help but feel how old and distant he was at twenty-four. When he'd arrived in this world, he'd already been a twenty-two-year-old university graduate. His existential crisis back on Earth did little to prepare him for this strange, unforgiving place.
Both took their stances, eyes locked on each other. Nathan deduced Frank would focus on palm techniques based on how he spread his fingers.
As predicted, Frank advanced with a Force Palm aimed at Nathan's chest. Nathan lightly jumped backward to avoid it, but not so far as to create too much distance. He used his left hand to deflect Frank's arm to the side, making it difficult for his opponent to strike with his right. For his part, Nathan launched a Force Fist towards Frank's shoulder. With a swift motion, Frank ducked, wrenching his hand free and unleashing both Force Palms at Nathan's flank.
As the blow neared, Nathan arched his body to barely evade, simultaneously sweeping his leg against the young boy's shins. Frank tumbled to the ground, his hair becoming even messier as dust billowed up from the earth.
Nathan stepped forward to help his inexperienced opponent to his feet. Frank accepted with a smile.
"Great fight!" Frank said.
"You almost hit me there right on the ribs," Nathan admitted.
Frank scratched his head, thinking it was mere encouragement. But it was Nathan's heartfelt truth. Though only half a Phase apart, the gap in reaction speed had been laid bare. If not for experience and anticipating the move before his opponent struck, Nathan would have lost. Normally, a two-year student at Verdant Spire Sect should have decisively defeated a six-month novice in the first exchange.
"Go rest, Frank," Maxim said.
Then the instructor turned to Nathan.
"Still haven't decided, kid?"
Nathan glanced at the muscular man with his crew cut and facial scars. One could remove them, but Maxim viewed them as badges of honor from his younger days.
"Not yet, sir," he replied.
"Tomorrow's the deadline. You won't get another chance, boy," Maxim shook his head, unsure what advice to give since he'd already said everything he could.
This was the very issue Nathan had been mulling over since morning. Verdant Spire Sect had two ways of dealing with incompetent outer disciples after the two-year program. One was to record their debt and expel those without potential outright. The other was still to record the debt but incorporate them into the sect's network for menial, everyday tasks for the sect or related organizations. Both cases required repayment of tuition fees, calculated in equivalent mana stones. It was like an installment plan. The second option was more relaxed, especially in not having to worry about income when everything was arranged by superiors. But this was also seen as the end of one's cultivation path, with no more time, energy, or resources to invest. Given the students' weakness and near-zero future possibility on the path to power, it wasn't a terrible choice. Jessica had accepted this direction when her potential was assessed as 'Below Average.' Eclipse Academy had secured her an internship at a nearby pharmaceutical company after her poor first-year test results.
For Nathan, both options were dreadful. Especially when he hoped to keep his promise to return to Earth with Jessica, who'd been brought to this world because of him. Moreover, he had a mother suffering from Familial Alzheimer's all alone. Every night, he prayed for her safety and that she'd wait for her only son's return. At least that she'd still remember him. The only way to accomplish that was to become stronger. From the information he'd gathered, high-tier individuals could sense space and influence it to connect regions and worlds. Thus, they could teleport through portals or construct interstellar transit stations.
Despite these concerns, Nathan wasn't immune to thoughts of accepting his fate, becoming an ordinary person in this world. Even if he miraculously passed the exam, the sect would only grant him one more year of benefits. After that, all expenses would be self-funded, with only library access and teacher instruction rights remaining. But given the calculated minimum of 8 years to reach Tier 2, one year was woefully insufficient.
What made him hesitate endlessly was the system given to him. This world had no shortage of 'travelers' from other realms. To address information discrepancies, the world's will had established system interfaces tailored to each individual's experience—be it a game interface, mobile app interface, or spreadsheet—to describe stats and guide them. Jessica had activated such a system without any hiccups. Only Nathan was peculiar. He'd received a mission.
Welcome you to the new world!
Your first mission: explore this world while the system initializes.
The notification had remained unchanged for two years. He didn't know the completion conditions or when the system would truly manifest. He could only hope that the abnormality of his situation would bring an unexpected opportunity—a glimmer of hope that might lead him toward the higher Tiers.
"Wanna spar, scrub?" a sneering voice interjected between Maxim and Nathan.
Nathan looked up to meet a pair of green eyes regarding him with disgust. The youth's hair was golden locks gleaming in the afternoon sun, his pale skin and pristine attire a stark contrast to Nathan's worn uniform. Behind him stood a small group of other outer disciples, most having enrolled later and younger than Nathan.
"Watch your mouth, Elen!" Maxim growled.
Elen raised his hands in mock submission, but anyone could see he wasn't sincere.
"I just thought someone should quickly check the restrooms. They're really stink right now. If someone finishes class early, the bathrooms get cleaned sooner. You benefit too, don't you?"
Maxim said nothing more, merely tilting his head towards Nathan, signaling it was his decision. He'd fulfilled his duty as a teacher. Disciples couldn't always rely on help.
This wasn't the first time Nathan had been insulted, but it might be the last. Tomorrow he'd be expelled, so being a little reckless today was permissible.
"Would you mind overseeing the match, Instructor Maxim?" he asked, guarding against Elen going too far.
Maxim was surprised, not expecting Nathan to be so bold today. Normally, the boy would politely decline and tactfully leave to do other sect chores. Thinking of tomorrow's fateful day, Maxim understood somewhat. Perhaps Nathan wanted to challenge himself one last time, or more likely, needed a final warning about the power gap to extinguish any lingering dreams. He felt the latter was what the poor boy truly aimed for.
Elen didn't bother with the customary greeting ritual on the training ground. Nathan still performed it fully. Contempt was for the strong; the weak must always be humble. His opponent had reached Phase 6. No one would criticize his behavior.
Nathan's mood was a jumble of frustration and disappointment as he took his stance before Elen. The boy, having just turned seventeen last month, possessed a bright future. On his first day, still naive, he'd befriended Nathan, seeing him as knowledgeable. They were inseparable for a month afterward, until Elen discovered his role model lugging water buckets and rags, diligently cleaning restrooms and break rooms for other disciples. From then on, Elen completely changed how he treated Nathan. To someone still considered a child, he only felt fortunate to distance himself from such a weakling early, before others lumped him in the same category and ostracized him. There were still occasional taunts and whispers, and he blamed all his misfortunes on Nathan.
"Hurry up!" Elen said lazily, waving a hand dismissively at his senior.
Nathan remained calm, slowly moving to his opponent's right side. He knew Elen's weakness from being left-handed after their training sessions. That data was over six months old, but it was still his safest bet.
With a motion lowering his body and channeling force into his legs, Nathan lunged forward, throwing a punch at Elen's flank. The young boy easily avoided it, letting the strike pass just 1cm from his clothes. Nathan switched to a palm strike, aiming for the back. Just as he thought he'd land the hit, at the last moment, Elen spun around, arms relaxed, lips slightly curled, exposing all vulnerabilities as if inviting any attack.
Nathan flinched at the motion, his legs instinctively propelling him backward.
"You always taught me to seize opportunities to attack an opponent's weaknesses," Elen said boredly, pointing to various body parts from stomach to chest to head. "You don't even have the courage to strike. How disappointing."
Nathan didn't respond. Because he knew who was truly more disappointed.
Changing his stance, he continued to advance.
Outside the ring, Elen's friends pointed and laughed at the cat-and-mouse game before them. Elen let Nathan hop around like a bug in a jar, fate decided but still struggling to resist.
When the spectacle grew tedious, someone spoke up.
"Finish it, Elen!"
Immediately after, Elen's aura changed. Nathan could feel the pressure bearing down on him. His punch had already launched and couldn't be retracted as Elen began to counterattack. A Phase 2.5 punch against a Phase 6 would yield results no different than an egg against a rock. Before he could fear the outcome of a shattered arm, the impact arrived.
He only felt the world turn upside down as his back slammed hard into the ground. Pain from his right arm shot straight to the top of his head, eliciting a groan. He bit his teeth to keep it from becoming a scream. Bones have been broken.
"Know your limit, Elen!" Maxim shouted.
"I just advanced," Elen replied jokingly, "my control technique isn't perfect yet. Please understand!"
"You and your friends are dismissed," Maxim said.
The group left, continuing to joke and praise each other.
The instructor helped Nathan up, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the deformed hand.
"Thank you, sir," Nathan whispered.
"I still intervened too late," Maxim shook his head.
"It's enough, sir!"
"Do you need me to call someone to help you to the infirmary?"
"I can go myself. It's not like it's the first time."
Maxim watched Nathan's dazed gait with a resigned shake of his head, lamenting how a promising student was limited by such an strange condition.
Nathan encountered Elder Orin dozing at the reception desk. His mood suddenly improved upon seeing the balding old man with snow-white hair and a forehead as smooth as a slide, wheezing heavy breaths.
He mischievously used his left hand to nudge the elder's supporting elbow, causing him to jerk awake, head wobbling.
" Damn it, who..." he glared with wrinkled eyes, hand raised to slap whoever dared disturb his important nap.
Upon seeing Nathan, he stopped mid-air, curling his fingers to lightly tap the outer disciple's head instead.
"You disrespectful brat," Orin rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.
"Where's Maine, old man?"
"The lass is inventorying the storehouse. You lot really have no sense of hierarchy, daring to ask an outer elder to mind the desk."
Despite his grumbling, Orin harbored no ill will. He just had to voice his position wasn't low, that's all.
"Then sell this kid a portion of 'Healing Powder,'" Nathan said with a grimace.
He didn't need to pretend anything before Orin, as the old man was more like a friendly neighborhood grandpa than an imposing elder.
“How many points do you have left, kid? Using them all on healing, huh?” Orin muttered, waving his hand to open a hidden compartment behind the wall, revealing a thousand neatly stacked boxes.
A blue teardrop-shaped glass vial flew towards the old man, landing neatly in his palm.
"Here, take it and apply it!"
"That's not right," Nathan's eyes widened, "You didn't divide it into just one portion?"
"Who'd know if you don't say anything!"
"You...!" Nathan fell silent at the elder's wink.
He also grinned sheepishly, turning his head to glance around once, then poured the powder onto his injured right palm and rubbed it over his broken arm. The powder on his skin began to glow green and slowly absorb into his flesh, muscles, and bones.
For a moment, he only felt his body become extremely tired, his mind foggy. The 'Healing Powder' merely accelerated the body's natural recovery and self-healing processes. Thus, the meager mana in his body was fully utilized where needed, along with other forms of energy and nutrients. Of course, better healing medicines existed, but he couldn't afford them.
The broken bone emitted a horrifying sound along with pain like needles stabbing into bone, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut and clench his teeth. A few seconds passed, and the sensation gradually became a dull ache and numbness.
"Apply another layer to be sure, kid!" Orin peered around before suggesting.
Nathan listened and complied, though the powder might not work immediately since he had no strength left. It would lie dormant and proceed to heal unclear injuries when he replenished his energy.
Once finished, Nathan left the vial on the desk, gesturing for Orin to put it away.
Both pretended nothing had happened after the medicine bottle was safely back in its compartment.
Just then, a voice like a golden oriole rang out.
"What were you two just doing? Don't think I didn't see!"
Before Nathan could turn to look at Maine, he heard a "Run!" and saw a blur rush past his eyes.
Blinking to regain his vision, he found himself in the courtyard behind Orin's rest area, standing under the canopy of a Bonsai tree taller than himself. Around him was meticulously tended lush green grass, with a small stream running beside a stone table and chairs. The air carried a clean, fresh scent with a tingling sensation of ambient mana on the skin.
Suppressing a wave of nausea rising from his stomach, he frowned and glanced at the elder.
"That's no different than admitting to theft!"
"Getting caught stealing and not getting caught are two entirely different matters," Orin equivocated.
Nathan didn't bother arguing further; after all, the elder had already helped him save some money. He went to sit on the stone chair, eyes pensively fixed on the bonsai leaves.
He'd only accumulated 253 Sect Points. If he'd used them earlier to buy healing powder, it would have cost 50 points and widened the gap with the 300-point 'Initial Advancing Pill' even further. He knew one pill wouldn't change anything; even ten might not be enough to reach Phase 5. But what if. Just what if. What if that opportunity came, he wouldn't hesitate to seize it.
This was a world controlled by beings who could wave their hand and obliterate entire mountains. He hoped a wave of his own hand might one day open a spatial rift to return to Earth.
With that thought, he stood up.
"Sit down, kid. What can you do with that arm?" Orin asked indifferently. "If you don't go, the Quartermaster will send someone else to scrub those toilets. Can you work fast enough to meet the quota? Enduring pain just to exchange for a point or two?"
Nathan hesitated. Despair was engulfing his spirit. The fight in the training yard hadn't just broken his arm; it had shattered a bit of the fragile mental dam he was desperately clinging to.
Sighing deeply, Nathan slumped back down, tilting his head back in exasperation.
"Wait a bit," Orin said. "Young Zeryn will be here soon. Tonight, I'm treating you boys to the fullest."
With that, the elder waved a finger. From his spatial ring poured out wine bottles, food, snacks, cakes, and sweets.
"Your last day, no one leaves sober."
Nathan didn't know whether to smile at Orin's generosity or feel sad that the old man was so certain about tomorrow's outcome. Either way, he felt warmth in his heart that the two had prepared a farewell party. According to plan, Zeryn would come to fetch him after completing his inner disciple exercises. Nathan had arrived early due to his broken arm.
The rising star of the inner disciples, Zeryn Valtaris, arrived in the small courtyard as the twilight painted everything in a poetic orange hue. He flashed a radiant smile, his shoulder-length wavy brown hair and bright blue eyes exuding warmth towards the two seated at the table. It was no exaggeration when disciples called Zeryn the most dashing young man in Verdant Spire Sect. His slim yet toned figure and the sword sheath at his hip only enhanced his allure, like a knight of the Empire.
Nathan stood up, shaking hands in the Earth style he'd taught Zeryn two years ago. A handclasp, a pull, shoulders bumping.
"Zer, you're so slow!"
"Isn't it because I had to look for you?" Zeryn grumbled. "The first thing you should get after leaving here is a PsiLink, you know?"
"It's not cheap, Zer," Nathan's face fell.
"I'll gift you one," his friend cheerfully offered.
"Really?"
"Really!" Zeryn thumped his chest. "Have you ever seen the great Zeryn lie to anyone?"
Nathan's eye twitched. When they first enrolled, it was Zeryn who had tricked him about the schedule to go fishing. Still unfamiliar with everything and lacking a PsiLink—a neural chip like a transparent sticker attached to the temple for use as a computer with various support features, automatically recording necessary information—he had naively believed his friend. As a result, before he could do anything, he'd already been deducted negative sect points. Add to that the fact that the fish they caught were a elder's ornamental fish, so both were punished with cleaning all the ponds from the outer to inner sect grounds.
Seeing Nathan look at him with disdain, Zeryn quickly added, "After I achieve a ranking in the inner sect, I'll buy it for you, don't worry."
Hearing Zeryn's confident statement, Nathan forced a smile and nodded. He was truly happy for his friend but couldn't suppress a twinge of envy creeping into his heart.
Everyone knew how sought after Zeryn, the sword prodigy of Verdant Spire Sect, was. Inner sect elders were practically fighting tooth and nail to accept him as a disciple. But for some reason, he still hadn't become anyone's Direct disciple. No one gave him any trouble about it. After all, he was currently the only disciple who could cultivate Sword Intent. Yet Zeryn never treated Nathan poorly despite his lack of talent.
Thinking of this, Nathan cast aside all negative feelings towards his friend. Raising the already-poured wine cup, he said, "Cheers for Zeryn and his inner ranking."
"Cheers for Nathan and his new life," Zeryn responded.
"Cheers for booze," Orin rasped.
The three drained their cups and began the evening feast.
It wasn't until late at night that the elder and two disciples finished. Orin, drunk, stood up and walked past Nathan slumped on the table. He paused to ruffle the boy's hair before finding a secluded spot behind the bonsai to continue drinking.
Nathan, not yet asleep, squinted at his thin frame illuminated by moonlight above. He remembered first meeting Orin because he lacked a PsiLink to receive information, so he didn't know this old man was an elder. He had simply asked for wine when the pressures of life overwhelmed him to tears. Since then, whenever the opportunity arose, Orin would secretly take him drinking, recounting tales of the past and stories from outside Verdant Spire Sect. It was thanks to the elder that Nathan learned more about this world and understood how powerful the high Tiers truly were. Once, he asked about Orin's Tier and Phase, but the old man just waved it off, only saying that in his prime, a mere handshake would have been enough to turn Nathan to dust.
He shifted to look at Zeryn, sleeping like the dead, drool forming a long trail on the table, mumbling lewd words. If only he could capture this moment, he could blackmail his show-off friend. Who would believe that the elegant Zeryn was like this?
Nathan chuckled to himself, his mind still lucid though slightly hazy. The past two years hadn't been too bad with these two friends. Though he knew Orin was an elder, it was precisely because he didn't treat him as a superior that he'd maintained this relationship.
"Thank you," Nathan whispered, his eyes closing as he drifted off.
Under the bonsai tree, Orin's ears twitched, clearly hearing every word from the outer disciple.
"Perhaps this is for the best. The cultivation world is a cruel place."
With that, he raised the wine bottle in his hand, drinking it like water.
The next morning, Nathan awoke with blurry eyes, his head pounding and ears ringing like someone banging pots and pans. Zeryn, with his higher cultivation level, had easily recovered and left. Orin was probably lounging lazily in his room. A cold wind blew past, making Nathan shiver, helping him regain some clarity.
In that moment of lucidity, his heart seemed to stop, excitement rising despite the throbbing pain in his temples. His chest felt like it might burst.
His hope had arrived.
System Activation Complete.
Now Determining Your Path.
A wheel replaced the notification before his eyes. It looked like a wheel of fortune with an arrow at the top, pointing down at the choices below. He squinted to read.
Forbidden Spells System.
Mind System.
Soul System.
Summoner System.
Luck System.
Illusion System.
Mutation System.
Technology System.
Shadow System.
Parasite System.
Beast System.
Absorption System.
...
Before he could finish reading, the wheel began to spin. In his ears, he heard the familiar clicking sound of the pointer hitting each section, along with the familiar sound effect.
When the wheel stopped, his fortune was chosen.
