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Chapter 72 - FRESH START

  Devastated, Fizgore sat up, holding his head in his hands. Ecstatic to be getting such excellent ammunition for later, Raine was quick to rub salt in his old friend’s emotional wounds, “Amazing how many guys fell for this trap. Didn’t you think this place was odd when you found it?”

  A full-body twitch was followed by Fizgore’s head slowly rotating to face him, “I… wasn’t alone? It can’t be true. S-she was selling tofu this whole time?! My chest, it aches. My pure dao heart is cracking. How could she do this to me?”

  Raine shook his head sadly, his voice dripping with sympathy, “That’s just how those creatures are. So long as you learned how to avoid their traps in the future, then the experience was worth the suffering.”

  Fizgore shuddered, then spat on the floor, “Indeed! This hardship will only create a superior me! I have been blind, and now I see. Apologies, amituofo. Thank you for saving me from her lies. I will seek the wisdom that lurks on this path to Diyu. However, my wits are not what they should be in this place. Would benefactor be willing to point me in the direction of the exit? I thirst for fresh air.”

  “Here, put these on first,” wearing an easy smile, Raine passed Fizgore a pair of level zero tunic and pants.

  Used to the flickering glow from the dimly burning incense, Fizgore deftly received the clothes. Holding them to his chest, he bowed low, “What an upright soul amituofo has. Courtesy demands reciprocity. Though I may be impoverished now, my fortunes will surely blossom thanks to your generosity.” Instead of equipping both items, Fizgore proved he was precisely the man Raine remembered by only wearing the pants, leaving his powerfully muscled torso on full display.

  Yup, same old Fizgore. Goofy bastard.

  Falling back on fond memories, Raine was quick to shoot back, “A fish needs two chances to flourish, while a man only needs one.”

  Fizgore laughed heartily, filling the den with honest joviality, “I didn’t know it was possible to butcher a proverb so horrifically and still relay the essence of its wisdom. You are a strange one, amituofo.”

  Raine waved him off, leading the way down the tunnel toward the ladder, “Enough with that. Call me brother. I’m no saint.”

  “Very well, brother. If you’re not here for kindness, what brought you to this lair of deception?”

  “I heard a rumor in Dry Canyon Town. I came to test myself against what this world considers demons. I also took the chance to level my companions along the way,” Raine’s enunciation was a warning that Fizgore didn’t miss.

  Following through with his imitation of a monk, Fizgore cupped his fists, “They must be important to you. I shall hold them in the same regard you’ve shown me.”

  Almost forgetting it was necessary to ask, Raine nodded to his old friend, “And what should I call you? Brother?”

  “This humble one should be referred to as Fizgore. Until my debt is repaid. Then, I will be worthy of being your brother.”

  “As you wish,” Raine acknowledged. They were bombarded by hysterical wailing from above just before reaching the ladder. Raine quickly reached the top and poked his head into the common room. The man he’d killed in the den was on his knees. He held one of the succubus bones to his forehead, snot leaking from his nose.

  [Traveler (Unclassed): Level 4 (HP 108/108)]

  Fizgore popped out behind him, beholding the naked, freshly resurrected man, “Does he think he can hear her voice through a bone?”

  Raine snorted, walking into the room, “No. Some people can't handle the mental strain and become hopelessly addicted.”

  The man ignored them as they walked by. Fizgore shook his head at the pitiful display, “Only the weak crumble at the loss of a warm bed. The waves crash upon the beach; the beach does not crash upon the waves!” Raine’s toes curled in an attempt to hold in his laughter.

  That’s a new one. He must have conveniently forgotten it after spending another couple weeks here in the past.

  Raine stepped outside, and Fizgore hesitated on the threshold. He blinked repeatedly, turning away from the blinding noon brightness to gaze at a silver and gold inlaid flower pot, “Brother, are you not going to claim any of the prizes in this place?”

  Unfortunately, the only decent loot escaped.

  “There’s no such thing. The entire building and everything in it are constructs created with Demonic Power. Look at the walls; they’re already starting to fade.”

  Leaning in for a closer look, Fizgore nodded with his brows raised. With a last glance inside, accompanied by a deep sigh, he followed Raine across the short clearing. The girls were much calmer than when he left them. Their fingers blazed as they shot messages back and forth.

  Reaching them, Raine spoke in his no-nonsense, drill sergeant tone, “Fizgore, Melbelle, Crimson Nebula. These two are hired mercenaries.” Neither girl missed the implication that they shouldn’t use their real names. With introductions out of the way, Raine snapped an order, “No more using your fingers for messages. Use the ocular inputs. Hands should never be far from your weapons when we're in the wilds. Besides, the speed your eyes move is still lacking.”

  “That’s all you have to say to us?” Celeste fumed. Raine stared her down, and she quickly broke, gaze falling to the canyon floor.

  Mel closed out of her interface. She bit her lip, eyeing Raine with a glimmer of her former worry etched across her features, “You’re back. Did anything happ-were you hurt?”

  “Since you have the time to worry about me, then you must be ready to train,” Raine ran at the canyon wall. He jumped, and his feet touched the rocks. After running horizontally for three steps, he performed a flawless round-off to land on the ground, “Two hundred times for each of you before we reach the exit trail or the next training is doubled.”

  Eyes widening at the deadly threat, Mel dashed at the wall and repeated his maneuver. Celeste’s jaw jutted forward, and she growled before joining her. As Celeste flipped off the wall, Raine dashed forward and kicked at her. Expecting it, she contorted mid-air, barely avoiding his boot and landing off-balance. As Mel ran to start her second attempt, Raine tried to shape his bloodlust and direct it only at her.

  Instead of the cone he intended to create, a hemisphere of crimson energy pulsed from his skin. Pain bloomed between his ears, and both girls were caught in the wave. Celeste turned in a blink, her weapons equipped and her fists up. Mel wasn’t so lucky. She stumbled a foot short of jumping and crashed face-first into the wall.

  Breathing heavily with dilated pupils, Celeste berated him, “I can’t believe you used that on us! I thought I was about to die!”

  Raine had used the mental ability around them several times, though never directing his killing intent toward either of them. Since they would need to get used to it before the raid, and he still needed the practice, there was no reason to hold back. “Good reaction, Crimson. Melbelle, are you going to lie down every time something comes along to kill you?”

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  Mel’s arms were shaking, the feeling of a thousand daggers pressed to her neck still bright in her memory. She shook her head fiercely, not yet trusting her voice as she climbed to her feet. Fizgore hadn’t been hit, but his eyes were narrowed in a thoughtful expression. When Raine briskly strode past the girls, they quickly resumed their wallhops.

  Fizgore had to jog to keep up. He appreciatively observed the girls’ vigorous training: "One is fierce like a bonfire, the other soft as a petal. Your tastes are sublime and varied, brother.”

  Raine nodded, crossing his arms with a scowl. He refused to allow his pleasure at their progress to reach his face, where it would undoubtedly spoil them both, negatively affecting their training.

  It’s easy to see their potential. Mel has no bad habits to unlearn like a classically trained martial. She soaks everything I throw at her like a sponge, and her progress in adapting to attributes is about the best I’ve ever seen. Celeste is no less remarkable. She’s rapidly restructuring what she’s been taught about combat to fit ZL, and that’s only the beginning. Once her attributes grow a little more, the terrifying truth of her talent will emerge.

  During his ruminations, the girls barely managed to focus on their training, hiding embarrassment behind strained expressions. Unaware of their thoughts and reactions, Fizgore continued in a chipper tone, “If you live near Callipburn City, I have a friend you would love to meet. She would make a fine addition.”

  Raine couldn’t let him off his debt so easily, “No thanks.”

  The large man acquiesced with a sigh, “Indeed, matters of the heart are better left to the heavens. This method of training is… unique. My family once made me backflip from a wall; would that not be more challenging?”

  Raine hid his grin, lest his old friend see the trap before falling deeper, “The point isn’t the difficulty of the maneuver. It’s maintaining momentum and responding to randomly timed threats. True combat can be thought of as motion, distilled by malleable purpose. A static exercise like repeated backflips only forms bad habits.”

  Fizgore’s brows drew down, and he spoke in a shocked whisper, "Motion distilled by malleable purpose?” Raine gave him the time he needed. After all, Fizgore was the one who taught Raine that very lesson after undergoing a revelation inside a difficult dungeon. In the past, there was never any doubt that Fizgore was the martial genius, and Raine was merely riding his coattails.

  “Would you mind if I joined them?” Fizgore’s Buddhist affectations were nowhere to be found, his voice and tone now completely serious. Raine nodded. He knew this would happen and that agreeing would only further endear the man once known as The Untouchable Wind.

  Standing straight as a board, Fizgore leaned forward until it appeared he would crash into the ground. At the last instant, he bent his knees and darted forward. He reached the wall at a full sprint and kicked off the ground. He made it five steps before preparing to jump into an aerial cartwheel.

  Raine blasted into the air, his attributes bringing him above Fizgore in a heartbeat. His leg lashed out at one-fifth power, catching the man right as his feet left the wall. Curling into a ball, Fizgore’s hands met Raine’s shin, and the force of the blow sent him hurtling down like a spinning cannonball. Having perfectly adjusted how much power he absorbed with his arms, Fizgore landed on his feet in a tight tuck.

  The girls gaped as he rose. Celeste, in particular, felt the sting of her cheek being slapped. [Raine’s been going so easy on us. This guy is level zero and recovered from such a fierce attack…]

  Fizgore wiped the dirt from his butt after the hard landing, “You held back.”

  Raine responded with a grunt, “So eager to die again?”

  “No. You’re right. I’m far too weak right now. I shouldn’t have let those filthy tofu marketers take all my levels,” Fizgore shrugged. His voice turned forlorn, drenched with meaning, “Though, there's a certain charm in a fresh start.”

  In both timelines, Fizgore left his grandfather’s prestigious dojo in search of his own martial path. With a knowing twinkle in his eyes, Raine rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Every day is a fresh start.”

  “Hah! Too true, brother. Too true.”

  Raine didn’t allow the trio to count failed attempts. Between his relentless physical assaults, bloodlust, and grueling pace, none of them managed to finish. Similarly, he was no closer to accurately narrowing down bloodlust’s AOE.

  In the past, it was well known that mastery over the size, angle, and strength of one’s mental ability was merely the first step toward becoming a true class five martial.

  Some never managed to materialize their killing intent into a mental ability, no matter how long they lived. Additionally, everyone was different, and there were many divergent paths along the martial trail. The development of individual mental abilities was merely another step. Their only constant was their development somewhere between class four and five. If you didn’t have one by then, you never would. Even a thousand years of rigorous training couldn't cross the divide between those with talent, and those without.

  This was precisely why class four was considered the end of the martial path for the average person. That wasn't to say those without a mental ability couldn't become powerhouses in ZionLine; only their prospects in reality would dry up. However, with ZionLine's ability to manifest mental abilities, those with them would always have a leg up on the competition.

  Since Raine failed to develop a mental ability in the past, the boon of materializing bloodlust was a godsend. That didn't mean his progress from here forward would be smooth. It was, in fact, the opposite. He had no idea how mental abilities tied into becoming a full-fledged master or grandmaster, only that it was an undeniable fact they were an integral part of the process. Additionally, his knowledge of methods to nurture his budding talent were basically nonexistent.

  What Raine knew for sure was that intentional practice was the sure and steady path to advancement in all things. It was too bad that repeated uses of bloodlust gave him a tremendous headache. He wasn’t about to throw in the towel so easily. By the time they reached the trail, his vision was swimming, and a stubborn trail of blood leaked from his nose no matter how many times he wiped it away.

  A blaring call from Raine’s HUD was answered before the first chime could finish eviscerating his skull. His voice reflected none of the pain he felt, only excitement, “You found him?”

  The young guild leader of Enders Fall nodded, his articulate words clanging through Raine’s skull, “Indeed. He was last observed near Shadow Springs Town. The local forces of Righteous had yet to subdue him as of two hours ago.” A file-sharing request came through, and Raine accepted it. He briefly glanced over the data, finding several reports that pertained to Rhino’s supposed activities.

  He’s still fighting Righteous. Since it’s now clear that Righteous and CronGate are one and the same, it's only a matter of time before Master Torune comes after me to settle our score. Here, and outside, I’ve put a target on my back that he can’t possibly ignore.

  Raine trembled at the thought. In the past, he was no match for the peak class five master. Even now, after taking ReGen and fixing the holes in his martial style, Raine knew he would die just as quickly. The threat and promise of a worthy challenge was precisely the pressure every cell of his body craved. The reckoning with his old master was coming, and Raine would rise to the challenge with every fiber of his being.

  Since we’re already going to be such good friends, I might as well give CronGate another fatty black eye.

  Raine didn’t try to keep the anticipation out of his voice, “Great. I’m sending you a datastream with the information you wanted. I suggest you send someone versed in finances to complete the quest.”

  “Most excellent. It has been a pleasure conducting business with you.”

  Raine ended the call, then closed one eye to stifle the throbbing in his head. He removed a tutorial shield and short mace from his inventory, tossing them to Fizgore, “Here.”

  The man caught both items, equipping them straight away. With an excited grin, he banged them together three times, filling the canyon with a cataclysmic racket, “The fates are truly kind! How did you guess my weapons of choice?”

  Raine’s jaw creaked with how hard he clenched his teeth, “The girls need a tank; I figured you could handle it with the way you move. I’m leaving for now. I’ve got to go pick someone up. I’ll call you three with a meeting spot when I’m done.”

  Fizgore looked back at the girls, then returned his surprised gaze to Raine, “You would entrust the protection of your women to a stranger?”

  Raine was well aware that Fizgore was the kind of man who repaid betrayal tenfold, while trust given was returned a hundredfold. “It’s the other way around. They’re going to keep you alive until you get a few levels back. But think whatever you want. Besides, I can tell you’re an honorable man.” Fizgore bowed in response, moisture building in his eyes, his chest too tight to speak.

  Mel was huffing, hands on her knees from the intense training, “Why can’t we… come with you?”

  “You’ll slow me down too much. If you want to stop being left out, get stronger. I expect you both to be level five when I’m done. Don’t pick a skill; we’ll cover your builds in detail later,” Raine handed each girl two new types of weapons in case they maxed out their attunements, then waved goodbye, “You three play nice, I’ll see you soon.”

  Before they could respond, he Leaped several meters straight up. A Lunge off thin air sent him soaring to a tiny ledge, where he paused long enough to charge another Leap. Within seconds, he was at the top of the canyon, where he vanished from sight.

  Fizgore’s neck was craned, jaw hanging open, “Did I see that right? Did he truly jump off the air?”

  Nestled in a motherly aura, Celeste clapped him on the shoulder, “You’ll get used to it, little brother.”

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