Chương 55: Braxan Trouble (2)

"I forgot to ask for a bed," I mutter to myself. I plop down on the stuffed cloth next to the open chest. There were many open chests earlier in this strange place. It makes me wonder what Kevin got from all of them. I don't see him carrying around tens of trinkets. A few micro-cycles pass as I try to make sense of it, but it doesn't take long before I give up. Nothing about that man makes sense.

At first, I thought he was some kind of covert cleric variant, which would explain the healing and the identify scrambling. But then he shows strength befitting the berserker class, and somehow obtained a space skill. It's gotta be some screwed-up variant of the survivor class. It has to be. Nothing else would make sense. And the way his status dynamically changes every time he leaves and returns… That's a lot of effort to fool one person.

Maybe he's a high-tier mimic who's bored with killing and is trying to make friends? I sigh and lean back against the wall. Nothing makes sense. Reaching over, I grab the staff and start channelling mana through it again. Comparing my own work to something made by the system is depressing. At the same time, it's inspiring. Even engravers who are many times better than I am study system runes religiously. The proof lies within the staff I'm holding. The formation inside is simple. Very simple.

In fact, if I were to show this formation to Straff, he would… My thinking grinds to a halt, eyes unfocusing. He would… My head hangs. A deep pit opens in my stomach, with memories pulling themselves to the surface. I shake my head vigorously left and right. Can't let the past distract me. Refocusing, I send my mana through the staff once again. With careful movements, I stop my mana right before it activates any effects. It's easy from practice, but the next part is harder.

There's always one thing you learn before anything else as a mage, engraver, or any other type of mana-manipulating class. Never let mana stagnate. You can pull, stretch, compress, and shift it. But you can never keep it still. Therefore, I have to circulate the mana backwards through the formation, then loop it back on itself. It was more difficult than anything else when I first started engraving, but countless cycles have been spent practicing this exact process.

Once it starts to cycle mostly by itself, it's time to move on to the next step. Mana slowly drifts from my skin, imparted by my will to take shape. Forming pipes and bends, the mana builds itself into a replica of the enchantment on the staff. Some parts of the formation are easy to spot, such as the mechanism to release the fireball and the general shapes for fire mana. Being a system enchantment, that's where the easy parts end.

A professional engraver would have designated fragments for each aspect of a spell's cohesiveness. Years of experience would allow them to connect all of them into a seamless effect. The system doesn't have such meaningless obstacles. Formations made by the system feed into themselves. Fragments bleed into each other so deeply and intricately that it's hard to tell where one ends and the next starts. The efficiency is unparalleled. My mana flowing through the staff proves every word.

Finally, the formation created by my mana floats in the air. More mana flows through the channels, showing faults in my work, which I quickly correct. When the entire formation is saturated, a small flame appears at the output. Its shape and the way it forms tells me all I need to know, and I cut the formation apart. Having performed this procedure tens of thousands of times, I collect the mana from the formation into my body. Without waiting, I force it back out and begin crafting the fireball spell once again.

This is the most important technique that Master Straff taught me.

"Practice makes perfect," he always said. Sadness tries to creep in, but I push it away. I construct the formation, power it, and examine the results. Flame outputs a bit too slowly. I tear it down, build it up, and power it. Good. Tear, build, power. Good. Again. Unstable containment. Again. Good. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. I repeat the process ten, twenty, thirty times.

Thanks to my practiced control, only a minimal amount of mana is lost with every attempt, allowing me to continue without breaks. Sometimes, it feels like I'm getting worse, but it's all a part of the technique. On the thirty-eighth attempt, a small ball of fire doesn't grow. A jet of flames chaotically spews napalm against the chest next to my bed. My heart lurches in my chest as I hop to my feet and back away. The flames, full of intent, burn for several micro-cycles before fading.

Blackened spots on the wood of the chest accompany the smell of a campfire, which quickly fills the room. And that's why you don't create an unfamiliar formation inside your body. One little mistake, and boom. Half of your chest is gone. With a sigh, I walk over and collapse back down onto the makeshift bed. The feeling in my stomach won't fade. Even from across the room, Straff would contain my mistakes, spotting my error and voicing it before anything even went wrong.

He was about to let me start practicing alone, too. My head hangs as my finger traces along the grain in the wood.

"I'm not quite as proficient as you thought, master." Digging into the staff, my fingernail picks a tiny splinter free. I take a deep breath and hold the staff in a better position. Eyelids close, immersing me in the flow of mana once again. The mana cycling inside the staff still functions, not breaking even during my lapse of focus. Did I unconsciously keep it moving? A smile creeps onto my face. Chime Without hesitation, I ask the system to show me. [Quick Formation Comprehension(lv. 4) > (lv. 5)] The message wipes away much of my mood. Inspiration rises in its place. I get back into position and concentrate once more. Forty. Fifty. Sixty. I repeat the technique over and over. Once I get past a hundred, I stop counting. As time goes on, I check the staff's formation less, the pattern burning itself into my mind. Pauses come less often as I lose focus on everything except the mana that floats in the air. Another thing that comes less often is mistakes. Again, again, and again.

Eventually, my focus starts to falter, with dizziness creeping in. That's my sign to stop. Remembering the warnings from Straff, I abandoned the current attempt. Mana in the air disperses as if begging to do so. I retract the mana from the staff back into my body. I let out a contented sigh and collapse against the wall. Phew, that was a good session. With a smile and wobbly legs, I make my way to the fountain. I dip my mouth to drink, but a memory of Kevin flashes by.

Collapsing onto my back, I lie with my head under the fountain, a constant stream of water pouring over my face. Ahhh, this is nice. After a bit, I sit up and grab a stick of meat, drying my hair with the edge of Straff- I mean… my coat. My head shakes, refusing to let the mood take hold. After sitting back on my bed, I start tearing into the stick of meat. Indrill? No, maybe Redguard? Not sure what type, but this is definitely some type of fowl. Perhaps a generic flapper? No, those don't get nearly big enough.

It's cold, but it's still far better than those blasted jerky strips. A shudder travels down my spine. Those things were horrid. After a few more bites, I pull my status to review. [Status] [Name: Braxan Trouble] [Class: Diverse Engraver lv. 27] [Titles:] [Health: 160] [Mana: 780(525)] [Stamina: 305(279)] [Vitality: 11] [Strength: 8] [Agility: 15] [Endurance: 22] [Fortitude: 10] [Intelligence: 66] [Wisdom: 45] [Perception: 59] [Unassigned: 0] [Class skills: Engrave(lv. 31), Efficient Focused Mind(lv. 17), Runic Identify Object(lv. 19), Diverse Workmanship(lv. 9), Quick Formation Comprehension(lv. 5)] Looks good. For my next level-up, I think I'll put a bit more into endurance. The dizziness and headaches still come a bit too soon. Straff said that I shouldn't practice all the time, but just like mana, stagnation feels wrong. My engraving proficiency will one day meet the requirements for capital teleportation array projects. Money will flow like water, and I'll get a nice big house.

I smile as I chew, imagining all the different places I could live. My mood wavers. Or I would, if I weren't in a newly integrated galaxy's tutorial. But I can't complain too much. After all, I'm the one who put myself in this situation, using the teleporter that was connected to a specific person. Where the heck is that person, anyway!? Master Straff said he had a relationship with them, so it can't be Kevin. … Or could it? The thought sits on the front of my mind. No. I shake my head.

I have no clue what a tutorial would look like, but the area I walked through when I first got here seems exactly like something that the system would create. Being halfway through the stick of meat and my stomach filled, I place the rest back in the pouch it came in. Plus, nothing in here rots. The array needed for something like that would be incredible. I don't think anyone in the entire nation would be capable of designing even a hundredth of that. Slowly, I set down the pouch next to my bed for later.

Forget being the person Straff was looking for, I don't know if Kevin's even human. What did he eat, like four of these drumsticks, before leaving today? Even through healing hunger, that's a massive amount of food. A non-human amount of food. But if he isn't a human, how did he get into a tutorial? As far as I'm aware, only intelligent, classed beings are sent here. And judging from the dead orcs and goblins, I don't think a mimic would appear in a tutorial like this.

"Gah! Nothing makes sense!" I say to the air. I shift and lie down. There's only one answer that makes everything connect. Kevin actually IS a tamed being, and his tamer is somewhere else in the tutorial. Why they're sending their tame to check on me so often, I have no idea. Even then, Straff's identify-blocking rune activated when I first met him, which means he has identify. Why would a tame evolve to have a skill like that in an environment like this? Moreso, why is his behavior so human-like?

I reach up and rub my eyes until spirals appear. Gosh, it feels like I've been kidnapped by some high tier person who's bored and wants to mess with me for fun. A groan escapes my mouth. Regardless, there's nothing I can do. So I'll sit here and practice. In a few cycles, I'll either join Kevin in the next area of the tutorial, be stuck here for the rest of eternity, or be obliterated from existence when the tutorial does whatever it does when he's gone.

Funny enough, it's the second scenario that scares me the most. A few moments pass as I stare at the ceiling. I wish I had grabbed some books before I teleported across the universe. Kevin said he didn't know any spells. But channelling mana through the twelve formations in the affinity tester can only be done with a mind-based skill or absurd stats. If he really is level twenty-five as he said, It would have to be a really powerful skill. I wonder how fast he'll be able to learn Stone Pillar?