"Push isn't a shield spell lad," Cici pointed out after Kopius had finished a summarized version of his adventure.

"What?" Kopius answered, a bit confused.

"It's a deflect spell," the big guy replied.

"That's what you took from all that? Mis-categorizing a spell?"

"Finer details make the man my friend," Cici recited, filling up Kopius with another steaming bowl of dinner. "Or a princess in your case."

***

By the time Kopius had climbed to the top of the cliff and navigated his way back to the Hall, night had fallen. The trek back had been without incident and given that he had just sprinted a few miles, he was thankful for the nature walk.

He had time to collect his nerves along the way, as well as dislodge the embedded stinger they had been chased away from the prior day. Though it didn't stack in his ring with the other one and his inventory was full; he ended up dragging it behind him most of the way.

The golem remained trapped at the bottom of the pit. It roared its displeasure, attacking every surface it could reach. Yet, given the vertical nature of the pit and the golems' form of mobility, it wasn't getting out. The best it could do is pummel the side of the pit and create small tremors for anyone above.

Kopius had peaked his head over the ledge before leaving, the redwhips stinger across his shoulder. He whistled at the monster to get its attention and then gave the golem a single middle finger. The thing tried to steamroll the side of the pit, managing only to vibrate the ground beneath Kopius's feet.

While heading back, he had opened his profile to read the notifications he had missed during his run and climb. A smile cracked the surface of his face when he saw some of the advancements he had made:

{NX: Haste LV2 something about distance traveled while sprinting and over uneven terrain +1 PHQ}

{NX: Stamina reinforce +1 DEX}

{Measure Once LV2}

{NX: Mind the Gap. Jumped a wide space, again. +.5 Agility}

{NX: Improvised Strike IV–It is not always how you draw it up. +XP}

{NX: Bumbly LV2 +XP}

It was an impressive list by his standards. Cory had always been a 'hit faster' rather than 'hit harder' type of person. It translated to his gaming persona as much as it did his real life personality. One of the few things he got right on Earth was the mindset to use what you have in front of you, complain about the rest later. Complain he did but–here and now–Kopius was quickly learning that Metem gave less fucks than Earth.

This point was emphasized when Kopius looked to retrieve the Stamina vials he had tossed along his runnings. The first one he came to had been crushed by the golem, evidenced by the tracks left behind. He hadn't thought much of it, simply chalking it up as a loss. It was when he came to the second crushed vial that Kopius shook his head in disbelief.

Where the tracks crushing the first vial had little deviation in the tire-like marks left behind, the golem had to take a purposeful detour to smash the second one. Kopius laughed at the pettiness; somewhat impressed. His laugh had transformed into a cough when he remembered who that pettiness was aimed towards.

***

"So what then, did you jump back across?" Cici asked, breaking the brief silence.

"The pit?" Kopius replied with a grunted laugh. "No way. I'm lucky I survived the first jump."

"Ah," Cici said, waving his spoon hand to shoo away Kopius's modesty. "You cleared that plenty."

"We had some motivation," Kopius answered, using his own spoon to point at the second stinger he had returned with.

Cici laughed.

"You know, I almost forgot." Kopius said, snapping his fingers. "That golem stopped… I thought—did you talk to it?"

"I suppose I did," Cici replied and then tipped his bowl back to finish it off. "In a way."

"In what way?"

"I don't speak Spirit, Kopius. What did it say to you with your, what is it– Speakeasy?"

"It just roared at me," Kopius said with a shrug. He thought back on the whole ordeal and gave his forehead a light slap when his memory kicked in. "Actually, it said: my pretty."

"You're pretty?" Cici responded with a pointed finger.

"Not me pretty," Kopius quickly corrected. "My pretty; he was talking about the head of that statue."

"Are you sure?" Cici teased.

"I'm positive," Kopius replied with a deadpan stare.

Cici shrugged and the two let the matter drop.

The standard after-a-meal clean up occurred with both men falling into their routine. The utensils were wiped with a rag, left to be properly rinsed once they exit Joatsu. The kitchen was broken down with most of it fitting in Cici's Infanity pack. They were left with a warm smoldering fire and a cup of something bitter that had been prepared like tea.

From his seated position on the ground, Kopius leaned back and closed his eyes. The weight of the day had caught up with him. His legs had that familiar tightness that he would get from running hill sprints during preseason baseball; those sucked. Every muscle from his pinky toe to his gluteus rejoiced, no longer bearing any weight.

He eventually pulled both legs up, individually, for some light stretching. When he leaned forward, it didn't take long for his hamstring to resist. He eased into the stretch nevertheless.

"That's smart lad. I like the initiative." Cici remarked from his own comfortable position on the other side of the fire.

Kopius cracked an eye open to regard the big man mid-stretch; Cici raised his mug with a smile. He continued to pull at his tight leg muscles with his eyes open. Bringing a knee to his chest, he was able to loosen some knots in his back as well. He really just needed to lay down.

"I'd probably head up back here," Cici said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder towards the open area to the side of the cave opening. "Ground is even back here. It's all slant over there," gesturing to the right of the cave's entrance.

Kopius gave the two-palms-up, what-are-you–talking-about gesture.

"Your thing, lad."

Same gesture; single palm, with a dash of head shaking.

"With your man, your guy–you know, the pucker pot?"

"Quinn?"

"Yes! There it is; Quinntrain some or the other!"

"Erostrata Di-jin… " Kopius trailed off as he thought it through.

"Fack!" Kopius exclaimed in a short, loud burst: his Drills were due.

"Dammit," was all Kopius could mutter as he counted back the days. There was no denying that this was the forth night since the weapons master had given him the Drills quest. Thankfully he had completed them all but he was getting an eerie feeling. One that he was going to have to perform them soon, in multitude as well as en masse.

He could perform the moves, that was no issue. If that is all Quinn wanted to see, Kopius could summon the strength needed to do it. Anything beyond that and his legs might rebel against him. It was hard to tell how long he could go. With only two Stamina vials remaining in his inventory, he didn't want to waste one on 'practice.'

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Alright," Kopius finally said as he begrudgingly stood up. "Where'd you say it's flat?"

***

Kopius prepared himself as the pugil staff's opening sequence came to an end. Instead of waiting like a tense ball of energy ready to explode, he stood with all the enthusiasm of a person who had spent a better part of the day running for their life. He barely budged when the green door attacked him for the third time, letting the translucent green portal hit him like a heavy mist. It passed through him and dispersed once it collided with the pugil staff's border.

Fumes engulfed the space and Kopius could taste alcohol as he breathed. The gut rot poured in through the doorway and it reminded him of entering any given dive bar at 1:44am. He waved at the space in front of him trying to make room for fresh air. By the time he resolved to cover his nose and mouth with his free hand, Quinn stumbled through the doorway.

Unlike the stoic, well-groomed, one-line-zinger entrances Quinn had introduced himself with in the past, he now seemed to be taking a drunken master approach. Where every step seemed to be the last, then just before tipping over, his feet would find purchase and the portly man moved forward. His collar had unbuckled half the way down, showing off a chest full of hair almost as curly as Savil's beard.

As he entered the space he looked around in a slow confusion. Though his hand was empty, one arm was cocked out as if he were holding a beverage. His other hand had the familiar configuration of someone smoking a cigarette. A look of surprise replaced the look of confusion when he tried to take a pull of the cig only to discover its absence.

His head physically shifted to look at his other hand, now missing whatever libation he had been sipping on. Quinn glanced between his two hands, flipping them both over and back to make sure he wasn't missing anything. The man's hair bun was unfurled with many of the long strands shielding Quinn's face; the confusion was still evident.

It took a few moments until the weapon experts head twisted in Kopius's direction and the two locked eyes. The man let out a longer than necessary sigh.

"Black so soon?" Quinn slurred as he brought himself upright. He lazily pulled at his wrinkled clothing in an attempt to straighten them but it made no difference; he looked like a man coming out the wrong side of a breakup.

"I can come back later," Kopius replied, his legs seeming to rejoice at the suggestion.

"Fail now," Quinn spat with his accent and a flair of the hand. "Fail later." The man swayed as he shrugged his indifference.

"'Meet your hero' my ass," Kopius mumbled to himself as he regarded the man.

A very large part of him wanted to call it a day, come back tomorrow rested… and others sober. How the pugil staff acted as a housing space/training area was a mystery in and of itself. Obviously there was magic involved but Kopius would have guessed, whatever entity occupied the staff, would have been dormant to a large degree. Possibly in some type of stasis, awaiting activation. Instead, it appeared Quinn had a fully stocked bar along with who-knew-what-else to keep himself entertained; or distracted.

"I'll fail later man, thanks," Kopius finally said aloud.

"Typical Slash," Quinn garbled, then burped. "Never the present."

"You're the one showing up drunk asshole," Kopius shot back.

"Asshole?" Quinn slurred with the utmost contempt.

"Pucker pot," Kopius clarified.

"Pucker pot me?"

"Pucker pot you," Kopius replied slowly.

A look of derision played out across the face of the weapon master. It had probably been quite some time since Quinn had been properly insulted. It wasn't rage or anger that criss-crossed the man's face; it was more of a calculated annoyance. Like someone–Kopius–had FA'd and Quinn was calibrating the FO part.

Kopius had no illusions about beating Quinn in a fight. A lot of his bravado stemmed from Oh-jin's comment about this whole thing being harmless; that only his words could hurt him. There was a lot riding on those words because in a straight-up fight Kopius would be nothing more than a pin cushion.

A staring contest ensued with each participant running a laundry list of indecent thoughts at each other. Mean looks were exchanged and different postures were peacocked. Eventually Quinn retrieved his own baton shaped item and sprouted a long blade outlined in green light like some dollar store knock-off-brand lightsabre. Kopius followed suit. The scene itself was worthy of a movie poster.

In a blink Quinn flashed across the open space bringing down his weapon in a wide and powerful arc. It was the same quickness that Kopius had witnessed in their first interaction; one moment Quinn was on the other side of the wide circle, next he was exchanging breaths with Kopius. The glaring difference here was Kopius was well off to the side to where Quinn had just attacked; like not even close. The weapons master's sword ended up thunking into the ground harmlessly.

Quinn looked over at Kopius and adjusted his stance. Another blurr happened and the drunk pretty much returned to the place he had started; striking at open air. He had to deactivate his sword in order to remove it from the furrow it created. When he stood upright, the man teetered but was able to keep his footing. Once stable, Quinn keeled over at the waist, braced his hands on his knees and puked.

Kopius watched the whole thing in a sense of apprehension and wonder. It wasn't a train wreck, more of a toddler crashing from a sugar high type scenario. Quinn continued to heave the contents onto the ground and the training area now had a pleasant mixture of stale alcohol and fresh vomit.

Once Quinn's stomach had stopped slandering the ground the man stood upright. He wiped his mouth of any remaining drivel, adjusted his shirt sleeve at the cuffs, and looked to take on a few deep breaths. More collected, he took on a different fighting stance, only swaying a little.

"Your Drills?" Quinn asked in drunken acceptance of his duties.

"I did them," Kopius replied, assuming his own stance.

"Show me," the instructor demanded.

Quinn readied his weapon and walked briskly at Kopius, the man's sword in a high guard. Kopius tried to steady the sudden onslaught of nervous energy, but managed to shake it off quickly and focus. He dropped to his fencing position and moved forward. As he went to stab the instructor, Quinn brought his sword down as if he were chopping Kopius in two.

The instructional blade struck the top of Kopius's head, the sensation of a mighty brain freeze engulfing his senses. The ethereal blade continued to pass his clavicle, through his gut, and out his pelvis; all the while making Kopius feel like he was being freeze-dried from the inside out. The weapon master finished his stroke by using his momentum–and shoulder–to strike Kopius in the chest and send him crashing to the ground.

Kopius hit the floor with a loud thud, managing to keep all the air in his lungs but hurting nonetheless. His chest felt like someone had struck him with a ball peen hammer but it only lasted a few short moments. Enough to prove a point while not leaving a scar, so to speak. Kopius grumbled some obscenities while he got to his feet; some aimed at Quinn and the rest at Oh-jin.

"Terrible," Quinn observed, staring down at Kopius. He stumbled back to his starting spot, not bothering to help Kopius up. "Again!"

Before Kopius could call a pause, Quinn came sprinting across the circle. His eyes were mere slits but bore down on Kopius with unseen weight. His sword was gripped in both hands which were loaded back like a tennis player ready to swing. The sword's tip seemed to glide just above the ground but never touched it.

Doing nothing more than standing his ground Kopius was about to reap the whirlwind. First, Quinn's sword came up in a sweeping motion that passed through Kopius's elbows with a stinging winter bite. Next, the weapons master did a pirouette of sorts, bringing his blade up over his head. He finished the move when he came back around and basically cut off Kopius's head.

Kopius felt the blade pass through his jugular and the icy pain that followed cut off his oxygen flow. He choked and grabbed at his throat, not able to take in or push out air. When it disappeared a moment later, he dropped to a knee and coughed away the phantom pain.

"What the fuck man?" Kopius managed to squeak out.

"Atrocious," Quinn belched. "I've seen better defense in a willow reed."

Kopius lunged from his kneeling position, instinctually using the Stab form from his Drills training. Quinn was able to dodge the attack but just barely; Kopius would have sworn he saw the man raise an eyebrow. Our air elemental followed this form and flowed right into the Slash technique he had sweated over the last few days. Again, Quinn sidestepped the form by a few inches and seemed to nod in approval.

He finished the upwards Slash form by bringing the blade out, around and back down to complete the three move Drill by executing Chop. It missed; Quinn moved that is. Before Kopius could stand upright his nose exploded in pain by a well placed knee from Quinn. Being flung up and back, Kopius caught a well placed foot kick to the chest and went flying. He crashed into the pugil staff's barrier and then sloughed to the ground.

Blood ran down his face and his nose felt broken. As the pain was about to jump several levels of intensity, it disappeared and all he was left with was a residual memory of the injury. The blood vanished, his nose returned to unbroken and the pain was gone; yet somehow it still hurt.

"At least your offensive form has a sense of dignity," Quinn threw in as an insult, but had hints of a compliment. "Though, I have defecated with more fluidity."

Not knowing how to respond to that, Kopius stood and dusted himself off.

"Your footwork is lazy," Quinn continued to rant, his accent always adding that extra bit of salt. "Your block is weak and your parry–it doesn't exist."

"Hold up," Kopius inserted loudly. "Block and parry? I didn't do any of that."

"You said the Drills had been completed!"

"They were! But not those!," Kopius yelled back. "You gave me some other shit–fuckin' Stab, Slay, Chop."

"Slash." Quinn corrected.

"Stab, Slash, Chop!" Kopius repeated loudly.

The two stared at each other for a few moments. Quinn seemed lost in thought, like a half sober person trying to figure out what had occurred the last few hours. Kopius kept triple checking his face, nose and neck while the weapons master tried to take a walk with his memories.

"Footwork? Block, Parry, Counter?" Quinn eventually listed it as a question. He moved his head back and forth as if to say 'no?'

Kopius shook his head in the negative.

Quinn nodded.

Kopius nodded.

"Well, I have seen enough," Quinn announced. He pulled a folded parchment from a pocket and handed it to Kopius. "Six days."

With that Quinn did a double clap–just like the commercial–and the world that was within the pugil staff blinked out of existence. Kopius was thrown back to a cooler setting of the night and welcomed the fresher air. He took in a few healthy breaths and was greeted by a sound he had come to yearn for.

{NX: Drills Certified}

Ding-dang

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.