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World of Tamers: Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2024-11-29 19:49:30 +0000 UTCHi all,
Here’s another chapter of World of Tamers. I’m stuck on the Artisan’s Paths chapter so I thought I would post another chapter of this story while I continue to work on it. I guess it’s not a one-shot anymore.
There has been a change to one of the attributes:
Resonance - Determines a Tamer's compatibility with monster essences. Higher resonance increases the efficiency of core absorption, enhances the chance of gaining monster insights, and improves the likelihood of learning skills from consumed cores.
Chapter 2 - The Mayor of Barrier Village.
Myles and his companion swam out until they reached the barrier.
"Could you demonstrate your phasing ability again?" Myles asked.
Instead of simply swimming through the barrier, he performed an elaborate corkscrew, trailing sparks in his wake. He passed through the barrier seamlessly, then looped back with a flourish that sent droplets dancing through the air.
Myles fought back a smile. "Was that really necessary?"
Zael bobbed his head.
"How much magic does it cost to use?"
The phase serpent shrugged.
Myles sighed. They couldn't communicate properly yet—he likely needed to increase his Command first. He needed another approach. As he trod water, thinking, he realised the obvious solution.
"I'll ask you yes or no questions," Myles said. "Nod for yes, shake your head for no. Do you understand?"
The serpent nodded.
"Does it use half your magic to pass through once?"
A shake of the head.
"Less?"
A nod.
"A quarter?"
Another confirmation.
"Could you also take me through the barrier using your current magic?"
The serpent rolled his eyes.
Myles interpreted that as a no. The skill must require more magic to phase another being through the barrier. That made sense—the phase serpent had to work harder to achieve the same outcome.
"Does the magic required depend on the individual's mass?"
The serpent tilted his head, considering the question, before eventually nodding.
"So I won't be going through that barrier anytime soon," Myles said. “How long will it take you to level up?”
He used Omniscient Eyes to examine the phase serpent's status in more detail, but nothing appeared. Myles frowned. He assumed he needed to improve the skill before accessing more detailed information.
A fish darted past, and he turned his attention to it.
[Monster Name]: Silver Flounder
[Condition]: Healthy/Happy
[Monster Level]: 1
[Rank]: Common
[Specialty]: None
[Attribute]: Water
[Evolutions]: None
[Innate Skill]: Natural Bounty - The flesh is free of monster toxins and can be eaten raw or cooked without special preparation.
[Skills]: Danger Sense
Myles raised an eyebrow. The monster must be near the bottom of the food chain if its innate skill made it easier to eat.
As a common-rank monster, the Silver Flounder was two ranks below the elite phase serpent. He was fortunate the phase serpent had appeared—getting stuck with a Silver Flounder as his first monster would have been disappointing.
The phase serpent must have been higher than level one when they fought. Myles suspected it had allowed itself to be caught—the battle shouldn't have been that easy otherwise. While tamed monsters always reverted to level one regardless of their previous cultivation, they retained any evolutionary forms, rank advancements, and skills.
Level one for monsters equated to the first stage of the Initiate Realm. His level didn’t conform to the same convention. It was separate from his cultivation realm.
Both monsters and Tamers advanced by absorbing monster core essences or consuming alchemist-crafted elixirs. While elixirs offered faster progress for cultivators, they stripped away the additional benefits monster cores provided—the chance to learn new skills, gain magical insights, and understand the monster's nature.
The Silver Flounder's lack of monster cores meant he'd need to venture beyond the barrier to find stronger monsters—a considerably more dangerous prospect.
Myles continued training with his phase serpent, testing its abilities. Static Pulse yielded no response when he requested the serpent use it, suggesting it was a passive skill. Lightning Strike he'd witnessed firsthand, whilst Electric Shield generated a crackling barrier around the serpent's body.
To test his theory about the shield, he lured over a Silver Flounder. The fish convulsed when it touched the barrier, confirming his suspicions. Had the serpent used that during their fight, things would have ended quite differently.
After their practice, Myles floated on his back and stared at the sky, pondering what to call his new companion.
“Are you male?” Myles asked. His instincts told him this was the case.
The serpent nodded.
"Right then. I'll call you Zael."
The phase serpent tilted its head, eyes bright with curiosity.
"The name has a story behind it."
A memory arose of his seven-year-old self standing in the town square with his mother. He could still feel her hand on his shoulder as she pointed up at the weathered statue and shared Zael’s story with him.
Zael drifted closer to examine Myles's face, poking his arm gently with his tail as if to say 'go on.'
"Zael was among the first generation of villagers to be trapped when the barrier appeared. I learnt about him right there, beneath his statue."
Myles smiled at how his younger self worshipped Zael the hero.
"When everyone was losing hope, Zael kept them alive. Taught them how to hunt, cultivate the land, and survive. He even started the tradition of baptising babies in the Cave of Sanctity's pond—meant to boost their health and chances of becoming tamers."
"The current mayor—he's Zael's descendant. But instead of protecting people like his ancestor did..." He trailed off, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
Zael moved closer, its presence oddly comforting as Myles wrestled with his anger.
According to the accounts passed down from the first villagers, they'd angered a monster of terrifying power—the Leviathan. None of the written records described exactly how they'd provoked its wrath. What was certain was the punishment: this impenetrable barrier, standing for over a century.
But the Leviathan's vengeance went deeper than mere imprisonment. It cursed them, stripping away their ability to awaken as tamers. From what he understood, everyone could awaken as tamers. Only the degree of talent or luck distinguished tamers into different levels of importance.
Perhaps this was what his mother meant about the mayor seeking a miracle—not just escaping the barrier but restoring their ability to tame monsters.
If the villagers discovered Zael's ability to pass through the barrier, they would stop at nothing to use him to their advantage.
"I need to get back to my chores," Myles said. "Stay away from the shore—my mother mustn't see you."
Zael bobbed his head in agreement.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Myles lay on his bed, arms folded beneath his head. A drop of water hit his face, causing him to grimace. The roof needed fixing again. He grabbed a pot and placed it on the bed to catch the drip.
Rain battered the island, drumming against the roof. He'd positioned water traps outside earlier to collect the rainfall. Despite the leaky roof, he welcomed these downpours—they saved him the exhausting job of extracting fresh water from the sea.
He reflected on his progress over the past three days. The training resulted in approximately fifty experience points per day from interacting with Zael and using his Omniscient Eyes to examine monsters. His magic reserves only allowed him to use the skill five times before he started feeling weak.
At this rate, he'd level up within a week. But Zael's stagnant progress troubled him. How could his companion help them escape the barrier without sufficient magical capacity?
The wooden floorboards groaned. A shadow fell across his face. His mother loomed over him, her fingers clutching a leather-bound book.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" Nerissa asked.
His gaze darted to the book. "Notice what?"
"This disappeared from my shelf yesterday." She tapped the cover. "Any particular reason for your interest?"
"No reason."
"Show me your hands."
"I'm trying to sleep." He turned away, trying to ignore her.
She stood motionless, waiting. The silent battle of wills lasted several minutes before he groaned and turned back to face her.
He thrust his hands towards her with a scowl. Her eyes fixed on the mark, and a smile transformed her gaunt features. For a moment, she looked like the woman from his childhood memories.
"I knew you'd awakened."
"Brilliant deduction. Can I sleep now?"
Instead of answering, she crossed to her workbench. She retrieved a small green bottle from behind a cluster of drying winterbloom. "Drink this when the mayor arrives."
Myles eyed the bottle curiously. "What for?"
"It'll conceal your mark temporarily. The effects won't last long—take it right before he examines your hand. He'll most likely come tomorrow for your birthday. Do not go out tomorrow until he has left."
"I'll refuse to see him."
"The mayor gets what he wants or he will use force."
"What happened between you two? When will you stop hiding everything?"
She brushed his fringe back and looked into his eyes. "You'll know everything soon. Try not to hate me when you do."
Nerissa retreated to her bed, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Her lack of surprise coiled around his thoughts like a vice. She asked no questions about his abilities. There were no questions about the potential monsters he tamed. Instead, she'd produced a potion—a specific concoction for hiding a Tamer's Mark. His mother, isolated in this cove for a decade, had the know-how and the resources to create such a potion.
She waited for this moment. Planned for it. Whatever game his mother played, it had to predate their exile. Was it related to the incident that brought them to this cove?
His mother's words echoed in the darkness: Try not to hate me.
What did that mean?
Through the window, moonlight rippled across the water where Zael slept beneath the surface. He planned to keep his companion hidden until he could safely escape the barrier and find a place for them to live. Then he'd take his mother far from this prison of an island, to a place where they could both start fresh. As for the villagers, they could rot on this island.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"The mayor's here. Take your potion." Nerissa's voice cut through the silence.
Myles glanced up from his book. It was nearly noon, and he had spent the entire morning trapped inside, waiting. He snapped the book shut and grabbed the green bottle, giving it a cautious sniff. No odour. The liquid slid down his throat, surprisingly bland.
He raised his hand, watching the mark fade into nothing. Unbelievable.
Myles looked around to ensure that nothing was present that could reveal his secrets. His mother hid the small bookshelves of books in anticipation of the mayor's arrival. He had a feeling that she wasn’t supposed to have them.
A sharp knock echoed through the hut. Nerissa opened the door, and three men crowded into their small space.
The mayor stood at the front—a tall man with silver hair and hard eyes set in a face weathered by island winds. His cream jacket and pressed trousers marked him as someone who directed rather than laboured.
"You've carved out quite a little niche for yourself," the mayor said, scanning the room.
"Spare me the pleasantries,” Nerissa said. “Get it over with and get out."
"No way to treat old friends." He turned to Myles. "Did you know your father and I were close?"
Myles snorted. "Then he'd be disappointed in how you've treated his wife and son."
The mayor's laugh scraped against Myles's ears. "I'm Vincent Drake. Nice to meet you, son." He thrust out his hand.
When Myles didn't respond, Vincent seized his hands, twisting them roughly so he could examine them.
Vincent clicked his tongue and dropped Myles's hands. "As suspected. I can't help but feel disappointed. Following in your parents' footsteps, it seems."
"I wish the same could be said about you. Your ancestor must be spinning in his grave, seeing what a bastard you turned out to be."
"Sure about that?" Vincent's smile widened, showing teeth. "Don't trust stories, boy. History has so many versions, doesn't it, Nerissa?"
Nerissa remained silent.
"Your garden's thriving,” Vincent said. “The village is struggling with food production. As mayor, I'll be claiming most of those crops."
Myles stepped forward, muscles coiled.
Nerissa's hand shot up, stopping him. "Go ahead. We don't need all of it."
Disappointment flickered across Vincent's face. He nodded to his men, who headed for the back door. His gaze dragged over Nerissa's frame. "You're not looking well these days. You should take better care of yourself."
"I'm fine. I'll be better when you leave." She crossed her arms, shoulders stiff.
Vincent leaned close to her ear, whispering something that drained the colour from her face. She stepped back, bumping into her workbench. A bottle wobbled, and she steadied it without looking, her eyes fixed on some distant point.
He glanced back at Myles, triumph written across his features. "I could shatter your illusions about your mother, but watching her continue to suffer is far more entertaining. She hasn't told you what happened back then, has she? Always kept things close to her chest, our Nerissa. So many secrets. But secrets have a way of surfacing, don't they?"
Myles met his stare. "I don't care what you think. Now fuck off out of my sight."
“There’s no need to be rude. I will consider allowing you to rejoin the village after your mother passes away."
“That will never happen. It’s ten years too late.”
Vincent's smile never reached his eyes as he strolled out. Outside, his men's voices rose as they began stripping the garden.
"Why did you let them raid our garden?" Myles's hands curled into fists. "They'll keep coming back now."
"It is hardly a loss," Nerissa said, watching Vincent walk away. "I've hidden some away—enough to last us for a few days at least. And Vincent ignored my herbs. He wouldn't know what to do with them."
"How did you know to make that concealing potion?"
Nerissa spun round, pressing her finger to his lips. "Lower your voice. Do you want the whole island to know you're a tamer?"
Myles jerked back from her touch. "No more secrets. When will you tell me what's happening?"
"Soon." She dropped her hand. "You need to grow stronger first. Then I'll share everything."
"I'll find out on my own. Who knows how long you'll make me wait?"
Nerissa smiled. "It’s good to show some initiative. Investigate if you want. But be careful."
"I'll uncover all your secrets."
Her smile faded. "There's something you should see."
She crossed to her bed and knelt, prying up a floorboard. Her fingers disappeared into the gap, emerging with a leather-bound book.
"What's that?"
"A cultivation guide." She held it out. "For when you find monster cores. It could be dangerous if you don’t know what you are doing."
Myles turned the book over in his hands. "Got any more secret hiding spots I should know about?"
"Perhaps."
He shoved the book under his pillow. "I'll check it out later. I need to keep an eye on those men to make sure they don’t try anything.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Myles found Zael waiting in their usual spot. The serpent's scales bore fresh scratches, and a gash across his flank oozed clear fluid.
"What happened to you?"
Zael dove beneath the waves, returning with three small crystalline orbs clutched in his jaws. They had to be monster cores. He deposited them at Myles's feet.
Myles activated Omniscient Eyes, scanning his companion. His condition read as lightly injured. It didn’t look like it affected Zael too much but he would need to rest. More importantly, Zael was now at level two. He must have consumed some of the cores.
"You've been going beyond the barrier to fight monsters?" Myles crossed his arms. "Do you know how dangerous that is?"
Zael flicked his tail dismissively.
Myles sighed. "Right. You would know better than me.”
He studied the cores closely. Each blue orb was the size of his thumb, black lines threading through their structure. Low-quality cores from weak monsters—the impurities meant reduced essence yield. Not ideal, but he had to begin somewhere.
His current cultivation level restricted what cores he could safely handle anyway. Attempting to absorb essence from higher-level monsters could damage his pathways. Best case: internal injuries. Worst case: death.
These cores likely came from common-rank monsters, perhaps level three or below. Perfect for a beginner—if frustratingly weak.
“You lost your cultivation level but kept your rank and experience,” Myles said. "I won't stop you from venturing out. But be careful—I can't afford to lose you. And recover properly before your next trip."
Zael looked at him silently, as if waiting for something.
“Thanks for the cores," Myles added.
The serpent preened before diving into the water.
"Time to start cultivating."
He retrieved his mother's book and found a sheltered spot beneath a tree. The worn pages revealed the structure of the Initiate Realm—nine stages, each requiring the opening of specific mana pathways.
At the peak of the Initiate Realm, all seventy-two pathways would form an interconnected network, allowing magic to flow freely throughout the body. Each pathway required multiple cores to fully develop.
The second stage involved unlocking four mana pathways in his arms. One had already been unlocked in his right arm as a result of his awakening.
Myles selected a core and pressed it against his Tamer's Mark. He closed his eyes, concentrating on drawing out the essence. Energy flowed up his arm like cool water, smooth and unchallenged, until—
He hit a wall. The essence pooled at the blockage, unable to progress further. The book warned against forcing too much essence through undeveloped channels—cultivators who rushed their foundation often suffered pathway collapse, permanently damaging their cultivation potential. He needed to slowly chip away at the blockage.
Two hours later, the core dimmed in his hand, its essence depleted. One down, two to go. According to the text, each pathway required two to seven cores to unlock fully, depending on the core's quality. At this rate, he will need at least a hundred and forty-two cores to reach the next realm.
Myles depleted the remaining cores. The essence pressed against the blockage like water against a dam. He regulated his breathing, maintaining steady pressure. A crack formed in the barrier, then another. The essence surged forward, carving a new section of pathway.
Pain shot through his arm as the channel expanded. He gritted his teeth, controlling the flow until the pathway stabilised. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the effort.
Myles exhaled. “That was harder than I imagined.”
The new pathway should have completed his right arm's network, but the magic flow stopped at his elbow. Something wasn't right.
He snatched up the book, scanning the cultivation diagrams. Either the method was wrong, or his body required double the standard pathways. Based on his progress, he'd need two more channels just to complete his right arm.
He checked his status. New information had appeared as a result of his cultivation.
[Initiate Realm - First Stage]: 2/8 pathways unlocked
[Pathway Stability]: 87%
Eight pathways for the second stage instead of four. If this pattern held through each stage, he'd need one hundred and forty-four pathways to complete his foundation. The implications hit him like a wave—twice the work, twice the cores, twice the time.
He weighed the trade-off. More pathways meant more magical power and a stronger foundation, but his advancement would always lag behind his peers.
At least the cultivation session had yielded one hundred and fifty experience points. Essence extraction proved far more efficient for levelling than training alone.
There were no skills gained from the monster cores, which wasn’t surprising. His Resonance was too low. The attribute had to improve somehow—likely through advancing his cultivation.
“I need to rely on Zael to get some more monster cores,” Myles muttered.
There was still work to be done. The two opened pathways needed refinement before he tackled new ones. His current stability wasn’t perfect. A flawed foundation would cripple his advancement through every stage of cultivation.
Myles closed his eyes and circulated his magic through the channels. Like water wearing away stone, each pass smoothed the rough edges of his pathways.
He was quickly coming to realise that cultivation demanded patience. Fortunately, he had that in abundance.
So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Myles improves further and ventures outside the barrier for the first time.
Thanks for reading.
Comments
Carcar99 Hansen
Love it plz continyou
