Transcendence, page 42
part #6 of The Beginning After The End Series
“Are you up for a little stretch with this old elf?” Camus suddenly asked, turning to me. “I want to show you something.”
My mana pool was almost completely depleted and my limbs ached, but the elder had piqued my interest. “Sure. Only if Hester doesn’t mind.”
“Don’t mind me,” Kathyln’s guardian said dismissively. “I’ll stay here and judge you both from afar.”
The two of us passed Buhnd and Kathyln on our way to the other end of the training room. I stuck my hand out to the princess, expecting a high-five. Instead, all I got was a confused gaze before she shyly clasped my hand between her hands.
I suppressed a laugh, scolding myself for expecting a princess to know such a casual greeting.
“Are you two done?” Camus asked, eyeing me curiously.
Kathyln, who I now realized was still holding onto my hand, quickly let go and scurried off.
Camus and I positioned ourselves a few feet apart. I tightened the bands around my limbs and readied myself to begin.
Camus lowered his stance, holding an open palm out toward me. “Before we start, I want you to throw a punch at me, right here.”
“What?”
“A punch, right here in this palm that I have so helpfully held out.”
“Just a punch?” I asked, confused.
“An augmented punch, one that you would throw at your enemies.” He spread his legs a bit wider. “Come on, I’m ready.”
“Okay.” I shrugged, then covered the few feet of ground between us. Planting my foot just below his extended arm, I turned my hips, waist, shoulder and arm in one fluid motion. Mana coursed up, flowing in conjunction with the punch to produce a concise, explosive effect without wasting a drop of mana.
Just before my fist hit Camus’s palm, however, it suddenly felt like I was trying to force my fist through a thick layer of tar. I could see my own fist slowing until it fell gently into Camus’s open hand, barely making a noise.
The old elf grabbed my fist and bobbed it as if we were shaking hands. “Hello.”
I snatched my hand out of his grasp. “What the hell was that?”
“You’re a smart lad; figure it out,” the elder answered.
Gazing down at my unharmed fist, I went through what had just happened. After my initial surprise died down, it was fairly easy to deduce that he had somehow used wind to cushion my punch—but I had barely felt any mana fluctuations surrounding his hand.
“Figured it out yet?” Camus asked.
My brows furrowed in thought. “You somehow you used wind to slow my punch.”
“A tad broad for an answer, don’t you think?” The elder said, clearly enjoying my confusion. “I had an inkling during these past few days but your duel with General Varay was what made me sure.”
“Can we try that again?” I asked, taking a step back.
He held up his palm again. “Sure.”
I punched him again, with the same effect. I punched him once more, not able to grasp exactly how he was using wind to achieve this effect.
“One more time,” I said, frustration seeping into my voice.
Basic mana theory stated that when like elements collided, they weakened each other or canceled each other completely based on mana output. Utilizing the theory that I had learned from one of the many books I had read as a child, I augmented my fist with wind attribute mana.
I restrained my mana output since dispersing Camus’s technique wasn’t my goal. As I punched again, this time I felt it. The air pressure.
My fist struck firmly, sounding a solid smack that made the elf take a step back.
He rubbed his injured hand. “You caught on quick.”
“You used air pressure!” I beamed excitedly. “You created a vacuum around me and raised the air pressure in your palm to slow down my fist.”
The elder tilted his head. “You use strange terms, but it sounds like you got the gist of it.”
“That’s brilliant! How did you think of doing that?” I asked, unable to contain my excitement.
The scientific progress in this world was miles behind where I had come from. However, Camus had figured out how to utilize an advanced principle of air pressure—not just on himself, but on his opponent as well—to create a powerful effect.
Why didn’t I think of that? I asked myself. I had the knowledge within me, yet I had failed to apply it to such an important aspect of this world.
Camus’s voice snapped me back to reality. “You’re probably wondering ‘Why didn’t I think of that,’ right?”
I looked up. “Yes, in fact.”
“It’s what I suspected early on,” Camus answered. “Hester, Buhnd, the princess, and I are all here because you wished to immerse yourself in all elements in hopes of picking up little bits of how we utilize our magic so you can incorporate it into your own style, right?”
“Basically,” I agreed.
The elder’s voice grew sharp. “Well, the problem lies in the fact that your ‘style’ is so skewed toward offense, you never even think to use the myriad of elements that you have at your disposal in defensive measures, aside from the blatantly obvious way of raising a wall.
“You’ve only thought of wind in the form of either a blade or a tornado. You think of earth as a spike or a wall, yet truly mastering these elemental affinities means knowing the subtleties of their nature, which might not always be visible or geared toward killing your enemy,” Camus chided me, his usual sardonic demeanor gone. “I saw you studying those marks on the ground during Buhnd’s duel with the princess. Do you know what they’re from?”
The obvious answer would’ve been craters from an attack, but I knew that wasn’t it so I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”
“Masters in earth magic can redirect the force of an opponent’s attack into the ground below them. Doing so accurately can negate nearly all of an attacker’s physical assault.”
I stood there, unable to form a response.
Camus patted me on the shoulder.“You’re technically in a higher position than me so I suppose it’s rude for me to lecture, but let me just say this. Your utilization of the elements is good—great, in fact. However, you constantly choose to shape your spells and attacks around either hurting your opponent or enhancing yourself to dodge your opponent, and while that may be good for one-on-one duels, the battles you’ll face won’t always be like that. The time you have here is short, so let’s make it count.”
I realized it had been a while since I had been lectured like that. It left a sour taste in my mouth and it was humbling, but I knew he was right.
Camus held out a hand and smiled.
“You’re right. Thank you, Camus.” I returned the gesture, clasping his hand.
Chapter 50
Dragon Steps
“You gotta do better than that, young general,” Buhnd grinned, wagging his finger.
Infusing fire into the mini gales of wind in my palms, I prepared to try and hit the dwarven elder once more. Then a barrage of wind orbs hailed down from above.
With a click of my tongue, I ignored Buhnd’s provocation and focused my attention on Camus’s assault. I easily dodged the orbs of wind—until the ground beneath my feet rose and stiffened around my leg, immobilizing me.
One of the wind orbs nicked me in the shoulder, but it felt like I had been hit by a cannonball.
I fought the need to curse and just gritted my teeth against the pain.
That’s how you want to play?
My initial reaction was to raise up a wall of earth or ice in hopes of blocking Camus’s barrage, but over the past few days, I’d been constantly trying to come up with better ways to handle certain situations.
This often meant running through various scenarios and trying to think of multiple ways around them, taking into account the cost of mana and my physical stamina.
The orbs of wind felt almost solid, but they were actually whirlwinds packed into a sphere. I abandoned my usual response—erecting a solid wall in hopes of deterring the wind spell—instead enveloping my arms in condensed gales of wind.
Rather than trying to block the attack, I used my wind gauntlets to redirect the orbs. As I expected, the clash of winds propelled Camus’s spheres in different directions.
“You both are going to have to do better than that,” I taunted. Then, with another thought, I aimed the gauntlets down at the stone cast trapping my legs to the ground.
“Interesting concept,” Camus said approvingly from where he floated above me in a swirl of wind.
“That cockiness will be the death of you,” Buhnd added with an eager smile.
The old dwarf began running toward me. Chunks of earth began congregating around him, forming an armor of stone mid-charge. Meanwhile, Camus kept his distance, preparing another spell.
I expected another barrage of wind from the elf, but instead a gale formed right behind the dwarf, abruptly accelerating his charge so that his stone fist was in range before I could blink.
Buhnd was fast, but I still had time to react—or so I thought.
When I raised my arm to block his augmented fist, I was met with resistance. The familiar sensation of my body being submerged in a viscous liquid washed over me once more.
While accelerating Buhnd’s movement, Camus was also increasing the air pressure around me to slow me down.
Before I could break free of his spell, my face was met with the loving touch of Buhnd’s giant stone fist.
My vision flashed black for a split second and I found myself on the ground, Buhnd’s stone-clad form just a few feet away.
Ignoring the high-pitched ringing in my ear, I forced myself to focus. The gears in my mind whirred into overdrive and I found myself thinking about the crevices that formed in the ground whenever Buhnd sparred. Every time he was met with a physical attack, a crater formed beneath his feet as if a meteor had struck the earth.
At first, I thought it was the force of the spells that caused the ground to cave below Buhnd, but now I knew it wasn’t as simple as that.
“Try to block this!” Buhnd exclaimed, raising a rock arm in the air. The stone that made up the thick armored fist shifted and convulsed as if coming to life. Buhnd’s stone-clad arm changed shape as I watched, forming a giant hammer twice his size.
A rush of wind coated the hammer as it was about to drive down into me.
If that hits me, I’m done for sure.
The memories of the craters Buhnd had formed continued to flash in my mind—then suddenly it clicked.
Still lying on the ground, I raised a hand directly in the path of the giant hammer. I augmented my body but not in the protective way I normally did. Instead, I envisioned a tunnel-like path of earthen mana both inside and outside of my body.
I spotted a trace of hesitation on Buhnd’s face, but there was no way for him to stop his attack now that it was just inches away from me.
If this doesn’t work, I’m going to be in a lot of pain, I thought.
The hammer struck my palm and I could feel my whole body protest. Normally, if I attempted to block an attack that strong with just a hand, my arm would’ve shattered, but instead, the ground below me took the force.
I found myself in the epicenter of a crater the size of my room with my hand still stretched out. My arm, shoulder, ribs, and back felt sore, but I had succeeded.
Still wearing his armor of stone, Buhnd looked down at me in disbelief—then a smile crept across his bearded face. “You’re a bit scary, General.”
I stifled a laugh and attempted to get up. A surge of pain rushed through me.
I lied. It wasn’t just a few parts of me that felt sore—it was every fiber of my body.
“Oww,” I croaked, finally succeeding in sitting up.
Buhnd dispersed his earthen armor and stuck out a burly hand. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Very much,” I admitted. “You made it look like nothing.”
“Well, I have better control over that technique than you do, and I wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and divert the force of an attack that strong in the first place,” the dwarf replied. He tried to drape my arm over his shoulder, but my legs dragged awkwardly on the ground due to our difference in height.
“Here, let me help,” Camus said as he floated down to the ground. An updraft lifted me to my feet as Camus dipped his head below my other arm.
“I was going to carry the boy like the princess he is.” Buhnd gave me a wink.
Rolling my eyes, I leaned on Camus. “Leave me with some dignity.”
“You took a risk, but I’m guessing it was worth it?” Camus scoffed, his eyes still hidden behind his bangs.
“For now, yes—but we’ll see how I feel about it tomorrow morning,” I groaned, limping alongside the elf.
My sister came running up to me, her gaze laced with concern. “Are you okay? I mean, I know you’re strong and all but that was a big crater you just made.”
Close behind my sister, Emily adjusted her glasses as she peered out at the sparring zone. “Luckily the crater didn’t reach the disks underground.”
“Thanks for your concern, Ellie.” I smiled wearily before turning my gaze to my assistant close behind her. “I should be fine… right, Alanis?”
Her eyes shifted into their multicolored hue for a second, then back to their original colors. “The shock disrupted your mana flow, which is the cause of your internal pains. I suggest you get some rest, General Arthur.”
“Good idea,” Buhnd agreed. “I remember my first attempts at trying the force diversion spell. You’re lucky to have gotten away with just some soreness.”
“Lucky or skilled,” my sister pointed out smugly.
Buhnd laughed. “Yes. Or skilled.”
“Hester and Princess Kathyln are away visiting Prince Curtis at Lanceler Academy anyway, so no harm in cutting practice short today,” Camus mentioned, carefully setting me down.
“Ooh, I can just imagine all those would-be knights, glistening with sweat, eyes trailing our princess wherever she goes…” Emily trailed off. “I should’ve gone with her.”
My sister nodded wistfully. “Me too. My friend says the guys there are good looking… and toned.”
“Eleanor! You’re only twelve!” I sputtered.
“Don’t ‘Eleanor’ me! I’m a curious lady isolated from the world because of my distinguished upbringing resulting from being the cherished sister of this continent’s youngest Lance!” she said, wiping away a nonexistent tear.
Emily fell into a fit of laughter, and even Alanis looked amused as I stared at my sister.
“Don’t be so overprotective of her. I had my first wife when I was your sister’s age,” Buhnd said with a snort.
“Well, humans and dwarves have different societal standards for these kinds of things,” I protested.
“Ooh, you’re being racist, Brother.” My sister shook her head disapprovingly and Buhnd clutched at his heart in mock despair. Meanwhile, Camus and Alanis looked amused, but neither seemed to have any intention of backing me up.
I clicked my tongue. “Well, Lady Eleanor, I’m sure the boys will be flocking to you knowing that your brother can wipe them off the face of the continent with a flick of his finger if he chooses.”
Ellie’s face paled as she gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
Satisfied with her reaction, I simply shrugged, letting her imagination take over. Then I made my way to the edge of the training room.
I took a seat against the cold wall, watching Emily and my sister pack some of the training equipment while Buhnd talked to Alanis.
Camus sat beside me. “Your sister is quite the character.”
“Yeah,” I chuckled. “She’s always had a strong personality.”
“You must be worried about her with the war going on.”
“She and my parents are a big part of why I’m a part of this war,” I answered, watching my sister and Emily laughing as they talked.
“Understandable,” Camus said. “Protecting your loved ones is the biggest motivator for soldiers out in battle, but it’s also the loss of the ones you want to protect that often causes soldiers to lose sight of their cause.”
“It sounds like you speak from experience,” I said seriously, turning my gaze to him.
“An old story for another time, but yes. It’s the reason I remained in seclusion for so long.”
I blinked. “But Virion mentioned you’re the head of a unit now.”
“An empty title. After I lost my wife and my vision during the last war, I had no intention of ever fighting again,” he muttered. “Before this, I just gave my input to the acting head.”
“Wait. Your vision?” I asked, my brows furrowed in confusion.
Camus lifted his silver-blond bangs to reveal two closed eyes, a jagged scar running through both lids.
“Hold on. You’re telling me you haven’t been able to see this entire time?” I blurted, unable to take my gaze off of him.
“Surprised?” the elf smirked, letting his bangs fall back over his face.
“Of course I’m surprised. We’ve been training together for weeks and not once did I suspect anything. I mean, even aside from your combat prowess, none of your mannerisms ever gave away the fact that you can’t see.”
“I can still see,” he corrected. “Seeing with your eyes is such a plebian practice when your control over wind allows you to sense even the smallest change around you.”
I stared in amazement, entirely taken aback. After a moment of silence, I asked, “Is that what you’ve been working on since retiring?”
“It definitely took a large part of my time,” he said.
“I bet.” I nodded, then wondered if he could tell what I was doing.
“At my level, sensing the movement of the air from your nodding is easy,” he said, as if reading my mind. “But I can’t see the details of facial expressions, which is probably why I can come off as rude or crass—or so I’ve been told.”
