The unnatural dichotomy in the training realm Iona lived in lately never ceased to catch Luke off kilter. Like she increased the setting, the geysers, lava, lightning, and illusion beasts showered in increasing intensity on her side of the realm. The sky above was sundered with too many weather phenomena to reveal any celestial body. Roiling black clouds, smoke, and lava erupted from above and below. Timber roared, lightning dancing alongside his claws. The Storm Paw Bear charged in, bulldozing away multiple monsters smothering Iona.

Without Sooty under her wing, Lulu also trained with her Beastmaster. Her role more to support and control the flow of the fight, rather than display raw power like Iona or Timber often did. An owl eye symbol attached to Iona and Timber, buffing the two with different effects. When a greater magma giant burst onto the scene, she put the creature in a temporary illusion. Wood and plants held back the hellish lands, supporting Iona's shots.

The magma lord boss rose from the magma ocean deeper in Iona's side of the illusion portal realm. While the other side, separated by a peach colored thin barrier….

Just had slimes—Immortal Slimes, but still slimes—munching on grass. One even bumped into another, turning dizzy and flipping itself over. Idyllic sunlight and temperature warmed the rolling grasslands, accompanied by the gentle caress of an inviting breeze.

How disgusting. Target dummies shouldn't get to live in peace.

Moving his right shoulder, Sooty, perched there, knew what to do. She gleefully cawed and swooped down onto the peace-loving Immortal Slimes. With all righted in the world, the Reaver sat near a tree that grew near the portal that served as both entry and exit to the realm. Despite Sooty's best efforts, the slimes ignored any of the chaos. After her tier 2 upgrade, she tore into the Immortal Slimes easily. The regenerative buggers acted like undying cockroaches until Vorpal Touch overwhelmed their well-known defensive ability. Approving of the corvid's reign over the slimes, the Reaver pulled over the last Interface notices he put off—the important ones anyway. Primarily, the attribute theft, details on the Golden Stigmata, and any skill growth.

[You have broken all four attribute thresholds available to you. Your body aligns for combat]

[You have stolen 3413 Health, 212 Strength, 113 Agility, 215 Intellect]

The Reaver pinched himself for a second, out of disbelief. He briefly thought he should've drawn out that fight against the Four Betrayers to sponge more of their attributes. They obviously were the source of the attribute growth. Then again, there was no telling how things could've gone differently if he let up on them to farm.

Grinding had its place; that battle was not one of them. Calista lost a fight against him that absolutely should've been her win due to not going all out from the start. And now look, what was she? Effectively an unwilling Soul Bound servant. The Reaver accepted the error. No point in a life of regret, especially over nebulous, theoretical gains that never actually occurred.

[You have gained 3 Ether Affinity from Authoria's quest reward. You belong further in the world, stepping closer to becoming one of its blessed and gaining an Ether Soul]

Each time the Ether Affinity attribute increased, the Reaver sensed the chains of the world loosening, or perhaps their natural chill warmed. Things came more easily than before, albeit a minor but noticeable difference. He anticipated the day when the Ether Soul condensed. Originally, he believed developing an Ether Soul wasn't possible, and was plesantly proven wrong by the Interface for once.

[Through repeated repetition against higher leveled foes, Withering Echo has reached rank IV]

Anticipating the gain and the gap that would show up right after, this fell into Luke's calculated parameters. Skills seemed to have trouble reaching the next rank when it jumped tiers. Drawing from all his experiences and hints in Interface logs, he was certain they grew faster against anything of a superior level or tier to him. Skills probably advanced even against lower leveled enemies, just a fraction as fast. In the current situation, slow but safe methods were not an option.

As he thought, the Four Betrayers of Radiance didn't drop a single copper coin or item. Betrayers of loot, too, the dead bastards. Maybe he hurt their pride too much when he practically crushed them underfoot the entire fight? Things spelled trouble for his future if loot tables were affected that way. Luke hoped not. From another perspective, it could be that all the drops would be considered the quest rewards. Even the time before this, when he did Authoria's previous quest, the only drop was Nelth's spear and his blood orb—taken by the Spectral Heart—so it wasn't too out of line.

[Authoria's radiance transfers from her kiss to your neck. Using the energy source that fueled the Four Betrayers, Authoria's Mark upgrades to the Golden Stigmata. Tap for additional detail]

Doing so, an extended platinum gold bordered Interface screen overtook the Reaver's vision.

[Golden Stigmata: The highest body mark blessing one can achieve in the Edgelands. Multiple methods are available to achieve it, none of them easy. You underwent the Path of Radiance, slightly altering the Stigmata's usual effects.

The Stigmata adjusts to its bearer's needs. It responds to the Spectral Heart, influenced by it. Bolsters the Exalted Heart's property to block mental influence, horror, fear, interfere with divine power, or shatter illusions. Assists the host to resist similar effects even when beyond its ability to block outright.

Its radiance makes the sin aura deep within the host's abilities murky even to the eyes of the god creature's chosen. Your bloodline can better control itself at will, through using the Stigmata as a gate. Part of the potential in the depths of the human bloodline is wrenched out, subverting the blood seal planned after the Sinned Era. The Origin Path cracks open for you.

Blood potential unearthed, you receive 10 additional resilience points, able to further reduce damage of any source type. Tier suppression is less effective against you. The Divinity of others fails to instill negative ailments of any kind. Your blood, and thus, mind, is free from fear of those above you. Natural healing factor moderately increases, as does blood regeneration. Suppression through level alone no longer affects you in the slightest]

That reward killed off any negative feelings over the lack of item drops. Blinking three times rapidly, the Reaver tried to get in deeper touch with his body, to understand the changes the Golden Stigmata planted at a blood-deep level. That Interface explained well enough—outside of whatever the Origin Path was—already, he could tell the greed hid deeper in the depths. Level suppression rarely decided the outcome of any of the Reaver's recent battles, but the tier suppression proved a massive headache to deal with when against Calista or Nemenoth. Rereading, Luke furrowed his brows.

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What is the Origin Path?

No matter how much Luke used the living ice to examine every microscopic bit of his internals, any hint of it remained elusive. He connected the Golden Stigmata's latent radiance to his vessel, and for an ephemeral blip, the Reaver felt his body unbound. The world twisted differently. Transcendent gazes well above the twin moons roamed over every edge of the city, their attention focused on Musai or City Lord Cyrn. The air shifted, and the inescapable spectators abruptly ripped away from their object of evaluation and razored in on Luke. Survival instincts screaming, he cut off the connection.

Sweat streamed from Luke's temples, dropping down before freezing again in mid-air. He gasped for air from sheer overwhelm. What were those things? God creatures? Something else entirely? Most frighteningly, Luke connected to their emotions. All of them shared a simple emotion, bottomless boredom when looking at anyone in this city except for Musai or Ophelia Cyrn.

Like even tier 3s were beneath their notice.

Bringing up the Interface once more, the Reaver searched for answers on the Origin Path. At any prying, the Interface turned into static, shuttering itself. One too many attempts later, a different message appeared.

[You cannot be allowed access to unearned information, Luke Wallace]

Exhaling a drawn-out breath, thin frosted mists came from the Reaver's respiration, beginning to fill the nearby terrain. The tree he sat against froze over. "The Progenitor was right about you. A chain disguised as a guide."

Unsure of how to get around this issue, the elemental human recollected himself. The Interface acknowledged the Origin Path, yet refused to expound upon any of it, and those gazes? Not a peep. Unearned? He'd forced that state through the Golden Stigmata. He thought linking the spirit or vessel to the Stigmata activated it better, or brought it to the forefront. Since he lacked a detailed explanation, whatever this Origin Path was or those gazes, would have to go the way of techniques. Namely: figure it out yourself. Grooming through possible avenues, the Reaver came up with a different method.

Could there be someone else with a Golden Stigmata? It didn't seem so among anyone in Sylen, but Luke could be wrong about that. Would that stay the case for all of the Edgelands? Or outside the borders? Clearing his head over the unsettling gazes, the Reaver stood up. No matter the layers beyond the veil of reality, the Tide was real enough to him. So, he'd return to the goal of surviving, or better yet, thriving in it. Every step lately turned the waves of death coming into extra fuel on the path.

Wayfinder's voice tore from multiple directions, "We're all in the pond, lad. Question is, will you let yourself stay there?"

Luke stilled for a moment, eyes on the grassy horizons, where a cluster of slimes lazed about. He internally sighed. Wayfinder knows. At least fragments. Which master of his discovered things? Does he see things even I don't?

Xera, inexperienced relative to Wayfinder, was puzzled. She asked, "Pond? Compass, what are you talking about? We're in grasslands with slimes begging to be sliced up."

"Lass, bliss can be found in ignorance. Keep yourself that way. Centers this old soul that's seen too many directions. Stay the bubbly weapon."

"I'd do that anyway, without you asking, it's what I was made for. What else am I supposed to do?"

"Up to your tack, blasty blade."

Sooty swooped overhead, gliding over to another batch of slimes, hard at work trying to rank up her abilities. A pair of feet landed near Luke, crunching the green grass underneath. A comrade, the woman with the same life rating as himself. Runes slowly crept up the staff-spear she had in her grasp. Opposite to the black water he sometimes used, white water identical to the sort flowing through cliff rapids trailed over her. Annika's skin was slathered with the white rushing water. White sigils imprinted on larger continuous streams of the summoned elemental water.

Swirling runes danced around the Defier, effortlessly controlled by her. Cedric's elderly voice vibrated through the air from the spearhead, "Good day to you, sir Luke, miss Xera, and Wayfinder."

Clamming up with her crystal dimming, Xera asked, "Does this mean it's lecture time again?" Her voice dropped.

"Lectures are for learning, and what else can be more wonderful than that?" Annika covered up a faint excitement. "You'll like this lecture the most, Xera, your favorite kind, I swear it. Lukey might be in for a world of humbling again, though. All's fair in love, war, and research."

Raising an eyebrow, Luke said, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Gliding up, Annika pressed an index finger onto the Reaver's forehead, "It means, my rare oddity, that it's time we put away the textbook learning and do some hands-on experimentation."

She paced back. "Sooty can keep up with the training method conjured up by Iona. We both agree it's not quite as efficient for you." The imprint of an owl revealed itself over Iona's left cheek. The Runewarden stabbed the flat end of Cedric into the soft grassland soil.

"It's not? Won't I be able to upgrade some skill to tier 2 this way before the Tide? What else could be better with a day or so left anyway? Also, I've really got to visit the Miels, owe one of them a duel."

"Time spent with your irreplaceable and precious teacher is better. Aruna visited them in your stead, consider it your big sister covering for you." She smiled, then it stiffened. Using her other hand, she pointed to the grasslands behind the portal, the often-ignored portion of the realm. "I'll spare you the usual tests, Lukey, in the interest of time. Musai's too busy to teach you, so it falls to me." She put a hand over her generous chest and revealed a feral, hungry grin. "You've clawed your way up to be sturdy enough for the real training."

Tensing, Luke met Annika's gaze. He examined the depths. The way she's looking at me changed. From an interesting test subject to a…puzzle that changed too fast. Or, a person again?

Zipping up to Luke, Annika expanded her Domain while using her rushing waters underfoot. She tapped the Reaver on the cheek hurriedly. "All the apprentices get this privilege, the only difference is it's going to be me, and not old Musai doing it." She took back her hand, inspecting it. Luke's frost naturally tried to freeze over Annika's rushing waters. The owl imprint resonated. The Reaver witnessed this woman adapt her waters in real time against him.

Devoid of her usual banter, she said, "Unacceptable. You're going to be held to a different standard by me, even above the other Defiers." Annika spoke with a noticeable hint of disappointment.

Already anticipating the clash, Luke formed Xera into a wand. "How serious are we taking this?"

The Runewarden slashed Cedric downward, shattering ambient runes, but keeping the rushing white water. "Keep back your legacy, and any class ability you can cancel. This is to help hone your understanding of being an elemental human to the edge. Me using a Domain may seem unfair—because it is. The Envoys aren't above teaming up."

Infusion permanently stayed active on the Reaver, although he'd learned to control his class well enough to 'reject' taking attributes if he wanted. Stealing away from someone trying to teach and help him felt too underhanded to Luke's liking. The other abilities he could pause. He hit a hitch in Annika's demands.

"What about the passive abilities?"

Waving a hand, Annika said, "I know about the ability you bought at the auction house, it shouldn't be too much a bother to what I'm setting out to beat into your head. Is your other one going to defeat the purpose of the lesson?"

"It shouldn't, no."

A thin transparent sphere expanded out from Annika as the center, not quite as exaggerated as the City Lord's, but it made Calista's Domain appear adolescent. Rushing waters slicked the edges, and rain fell over the commanded space. It encompassed the tree Luke occupied himself near.

"Based on the records we have, you tend to use the wand form of Xera just for your spells or raw essence management. I'm close to that with Cedric's staff form. Being that we're here to bring your techniques out to the fullest, use the form you intend to engage in the most with Xera."

Peering down at Xera, Luke sent a silent apology she seemed to understand. She turned back into a sword.

"Aww, wand blasts have their place, don't they?"

Smirking, the Reaver said, "They do, your form switch speed is too slow to keep up when in the thick of things most times. So, sword it is, Xera."

The rains became like pillars of water, twisting together at times. Annika swirled around on one foot, setting Cedric over her right shoulder. Each step marked by a loud splash. She kept walking until a mile out.

Perturbed, Luke followed after her. Annika's Domain, enhanced by her Water Elementalization, became less a dominated space and more a torrential downpour.

Satisfied, Annika re-oriented herself to face Luke. "Before I beat the living ice out of you, let's give a primer through words first. Stay awhile, and listen."

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