A/N:
As you all have read, this book is written… now was written from a 3rd person point of view. Although I never mentioned it, this was subject to change, and now it will.
Such a change does not come from nowhere, there is a canonical explanation.
Throughout the time Alfred has been reincarnating, his soul, and by extension himself, has not accepted the fact that he was still alive. Even after surviving the four month period as the starving orphan child in that steampunk world, he still was in something similar to or adjacent to an "out of body experience," although he couldn't really tell.
Now, that changes.
For the foreseeable future, the story will be told from a 1st person point of view. Not just his, but others as well. That is to say, he has finally accepted his existence.
TLDR: The story is in 1st person POV… for now.
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These past five years have been, to put it lightly, difficult. Rewarding, but difficult.
Every day, without fail, I would refine, memorize, master techniques, and fight. My schedule has gotten so crowded with training that eating in the canteen has become a waste of time, so I have been taking my breakfast, second breakfast, lunch, second lunch, and dinner back with me to the enclosure.
Once the tournament ended and both Jürgen and Du Quigang left, I never spoke a word with a single other slave. Actually, those two never returned after the first tournament I saw them. In fact, very few familiar faces returned.
I knew neither of them had died, at least, that's what I came to believe. It seems that the both of them quickly either returned to their family to get more individual training, or were able to win their freedom back. I could have done so. On multiple occasions I felt I should, but Master stopped me from doing so.
His reasons were sound, I too had the same idea floating around in my head. As "property" of the Empress, I was granted certain… benefits. The main one being the fact that outside of the ring, killing me was akin to destroying property of the Empress, and one of many punishments for such a crime was death. Still, being someone's "property", as expected, was not a good feeling.
Over time, my martial prowess wasn't the only thing that grew. Other than my abilities with HSM, my… body grew as well.
I had to admit, have a nice face, as expected of a noble (well… former noble). It seems that äura has a beautifying effect, though. I haven't observed what many would consider "average" back on earth outside of a few weak slaves. Obviously, my body was nothing to scoff at, I assume it would have aligned with what my "tastes" were back on earth, although I can't really fall in love with myself. Thankfully, my tastes didn't include twin peaks, but instead subtle hills, not that I really cared much for my physical appearance so long as it didn't hinder my movements, which "they" didn't. The rest of my build was athletic, and I had quite the number of scars, but I'd say they added a charm, per-se.
Gah! Why am I thinking this! Ughh, despite the time I have spent in this body being considerable, I still feel uncomfortable looking at myself naked. I guess I am still a man at heart.
Today is a monumental day, not to mention this week. On Monday, I finally became an Advanced martial artist. This of course made me the youngest in history, although neither Master nor myself saw it prudent to tell a soul, since that would only bring trouble.
The second I did, I began learning the first 2nd Division technique I could. Sadly, this was a much taller task than I hoped it would be. Comprehending the first section of the movements has taken me the whole week despite putting no less than ten hours a day of consistent work towards it, and that's not including how I perceived that time.
This technique, "Disarm", while sounding simple, was anything but. Every individual muscle in my hand(s) (depending on the weapon I use) has to move exactly according to the situation, of which there are many, in order to forcibly disarm the opponent. According to both my master, and everyone who had taken notes in our Grimoire, this technique is both the bread and the butter of the 2nd Division while being the closest technique still defined as one to a 1st Division. In fact, the only reason it is not a 1st Division technique is the fact that I can learn it in the first place.
It is the single outlier out of all of the currently known 2nd Division techniques that, despite creating 1st Division-like results, is potentially learnable by Advanced martial artists.
Fascinating
"Öthe!" Cysandoth called out. "Are you done in there? I still need to braid your hair, so finish quickly."
"Coming!" I called back.
Ah, Cysandoth. Somehow, he's wiggled his way into the small list of people whom I trust with my life and limb, which previously included me, myself, and I. All extremely trustworthy… people… well, not really. I'm kind of a prick, and probably not a person anymore.
Finishing up, I adjusted my new sandals to my feet. On Monday, after I became an Advanced martial artist, I finally went and bought my freedom using the rest of the Boons I had earned over the years, most of which were previously spent on collecting techniques and gear repairs.
And now, I finally have new clothes, not that hodge podge of a tarp masquerading as clothes I used to wear.
I find it suspicious that master is this good at picking out women's clothing… Not only do these pants fit me well, they suit my body and allow perfect movement. Everything else from the tank top to the blouse, even the undergarments, are all great. Did he have a wife? No… no way.
I walked out with my long silver hair flowing down past my shoulder blades. Yep, definitely prefer the braid. It being all out gets in the way.
Cysandoth was standing with his hands resting on his hips and a smile on his face. He physically gave himself a pat on the back and beckoned me over to sit on the bench in front of him.
Ahh, shameless.
He tenderly separated my hair in thirds, and proceeded to perfectly braid my hair in a single, long braid down the center of my back, something he has done almost every week since I became his disciple. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the old woman who owned this clothes shop smiling warmly.
"There, done," Cysandoth said.
I stood up and shook my head a few times. Much better.
"Thanks…" I said quietly.
Cysandoth patted my back and walked up to the owner to pay for the clothes. I followed over since it felt awkward to just stand alone in the center of the store.
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"Mommy! Who's that pretty lady?" a young girl asked while pulling on the hem of her mothers dress.
"Sweetie, I don't know that~" she giggled. "Don't point at others, it's rude."
"Okay…"
I sighed. Would this… body… be like that had her family been better? Oh well. I have no way of knowing or doing anything about such thoughts.
"Master, shouldn't we be going?" I asked. "The caravan leaves at noon, and it's noon now."
He stroked his goatee a few times. "Ah~ you're right Öthe. I'm sorry, ma'am, but my disciple and I have to go."
The old woman smiled kindly. "I'm sorry for keeping you two. Thank you for your patronage~"
Cysandoth nodded and spun around. I did so as well and made towards the door with hasty steps. Hmm… we don't have much time. If the sun is there… then we were late a minute ago.
"Master, we should probably run."
"Agreed, try not to fall behind, Öthe."
!!! Without sound or warning, Master blasted off sprinting. I followed immediately with the full extent of my abilities.
The road is across a long stretch of residential areas, and the roads here aren't exactly optimal for high speed travel. The roofs are the best option.
I hopped up on the closest roof with ease. After I became an Advanced martial artist, feats like jumping up two or even three stories didn't even cross my mind. Now, each stride of my sprint covered dozens of meters at a time, making traversing over the barely slanted roofs of Dimitri a breeze.
From this angle, I saw a gray blur streaking through the streets below. Master really is fast, even when he is holding back. I have to pick up the pace.
Grasshopper!
My thighs and calves bulged with power, culminating in a huge burst of lateral speed. I leaned my torso nearly perpendicular with the ground below, changing the move from a leap to a dash. Different from many other movement techniques, Grasshopper is more efficient out of combat, specifically for long stretches of forest, or in this case, houses.
With incredible velocity, I launched 50 meters in an instant.
Without stopping, I chained a growing number of Grasshopper bursts to propel myself across the residential area without making any recognizable sound.
This isn't good enough! Master's presence can be completely and utterly erased when he moves. Not even the air he displaces makes a noise. In comparison, every inch I move feels like a firebomb just went off.
Ah~ there it is. With one final burst, I leapt over to the caravan without alerting the merchant standing at a makeshift table, who happened to be the one who hired us. The second I touched the ground, Master arrived next to me. Hah! I beat you this time.
"Take me more seriously next time, Master," I said quietly.
"Hah! Are you sure you'd like that?"
Our quick banter startled the merchant to death. He was a marginally chubby man with bushy eyebrows and a rough face, and despite the annoyance in his eyes when he faced us, I saw no fear in them. This is most definitely a product of his profession. I would've advised him of a different profession if he had a bad poker face.
"You two! You're late! Come along, we have to arrive at the port by Tuesday at the latest! We can't afford to lose so much as a minute of daylight!" the merchant shouted loud enough for the others surrounding the caravan to hear.
Four days… is that enough time? I scanned the roads we would be taking and the carriages we had to transport.
If they stay the same quality, it could be possible… and with those things pulling the carriage, maybe. It seems the wheels on it aren't too shabby either.
"Öthe, out of your thoughts," Cysandoth warned. "Let's hop on top of the middle one, It provides the best vantage point."
I nodded in agreement. The two of us silently moved on top of the cart at the center of the caravan. Its main construction was of a type of wood, so our weight didn't harm the cart in the slightest. For our travels to the port, we took a request to guard a caravan from the Colosseum's request board. This is my first request, so I must do well to complete it.
After finding a suitable place to sit, I got into the lotus position and began to refine. Now, my body can refine far more äura at a time without Master's assistance. While not as efficient, refining on my own didn't drain my, nor did it sap so much focus.
With my growth, I have been able to hold HSM up for a ludicrous amount of time, no doubt some of that success is due to Master's special version of äura training we used to accelerate my level to Advanced, time spent using it alone isn't the full extent. My fight all those years ago with Jürgen lasted no more than 10 minutes, and I passed out afterwards. A considerable amount of my fatigue was due to the overuse of HSM throughout the fight. Now, I can easily hold a higher level of HSM for 30 minutes without as much as a bead of sweat forming on my forehead… assuming I'm not engaged in some battle.
Äura mastery really was the missing piece in the puzzle, but I wonder if there is another piece? Will äura be able to keep up with HSM as I am able to use the 4th and even 5th levels? I have a sneaking suspicion that manifestos might play a part in this.
And manifestos, what are they? I have items that are "made" from them, like my Item Compressor or the Junanbi Grimoire, but they don't really tell me outright what these manifestos actually are. My best guess for the Item Compressor is some sort of spatial ability, or maybe some ability that controls the size of matter could work, but that doesn't explain how I can "feel" their presence. Hmm…
If only the Empress would've answered my questions about them, then I wouldn't have been left so far out into the dark. Oh well, c'est la vie.
"Öthe… Öthe!"
"Hmm?"
Master was looking into my eyes with a serious look. "Yes?"
"Now that we've left, it's time I told you about what we're going to do." He leaned in closer. "This is strictly between you, and me, understand? We cannot have outliers jeopardize our safety for no reason."
"Naturally," I said calmly.
"Mnn. Okay, first, I must tell you where I'm from. In the Wolf Continent, there are three factions that each control a major province, but is that all there is?"
"No," I responded, "there are a plethora of smaller provinces scattered about, some defectors of the big three, and some were never a part of them to begin with."
"Correct. In fact, I was born in one of the latter provinces. The Octade province was situated at the far west side of the continent in between the northwestern based Illianor and southwestern based Donnebay provinces, two of the three major ones on the Wolf Continent. Up until I was about seven years old, as far as I can remember, our little province had no issues with either side despite the ever present hostility between them. That was, until Illianor decided it would "integrate" us into its nation."
He said "integrate" with such vitriol that the slightest hint of bloodlust leaked out despite it not showing on his face.
"To put it lightly, we did not accept it at all. For us, a small border province, to be integrated into a massive province which was one misstep away from war would be disastrous. We would be the first to feel the effects despite having nothing to do with their constant quarrel. Instead, if we stayed neutral, our chances of avoiding conflict were considerably high. In fact, we may have even profited from it!
"Of course, they didn't take our non-compliance well, and immediately escalated to sending their armies and pillaging every city, town, or farm in order to take the land themselves. Not… not many survived."
He stopped and looked off in the distance, seemingly at nothing.
I see, so he lost his family then. Sad, but what does this have to do with our trip? Are we going to get revenge? But he could have done that a long time ago on his own. So, what are you playing at, Master?
"I was an orphan after that, and that was when I met my Master. She took me off the streets, fed me, trained me, and raised me. Now, I am doing the same for you, for that is the way of our discipline.
"Back on topic. Long story short, I trained under her until she went away to earn her manifesto. As I told you a while ago, you have to survive a truly life threatening scenario to earn one, but that isn't very specific. What is a "life threatening scenario"? Can I create one? Many questions have been asked about this very thing, but so far, the only concrete thing the public has come up with is that you must be a Master martial artist, and you must survive a life threatening scenario."
I know that much. But no matter how powerful you are, your life can be put in danger by almost any chump with a vile of poison!
"Still, after I became a Master martial artist, I've been in an immeasurable number of scenarios where I could have died. This is where our discipline comes in."
Cysandoth looked around, and then closed his eyes for a moment. After what I believe was him checking our surroundings, he nodded his head and continued. "Our discipline has, without fail, produced a manifesto wielder every time one of us becomes a Master martial artist (given time). Through this long lineage, we have compiled the few missing pieces of information that change everything."
!!!
"First, you must be in a legitimately unwinnable situation. Somehow, the äura can feel this situation, and the initial step will not begin if it is not legitimately unwinnable. Meaning, the situation cannot be fabricated."
"How is that possible?" I asked. "Does that mean that… that äura is sentient?"
Cysandoth shook his head. "I do not know that, Öthe. Maybe there is some god watching over us who determines it, maybe our thoughts can affect it. I honestly believe we will never know the answer to such a question.
"Still, there's more. During this unwinnable situation, the Master receiving the manifesto will gain a small chunk of its power, which is usually the absolute, entire, and complete bare minimum required to overcome the situation. This will not come the second the unwinnable situation reveals itself, no, it will come at the point where the Master martial artist… sees death."
"Wh- huh?"
How can one see death? I certainly haven't… seen death. I've experienced it. What does it look like? Maybe if he describes it, I'll know.
"Death, as it has been told to me, can only be seen by a Master martial artist, that much is certain. What death looks like, supposedly, varies from person to person. Maybe it's a light, or a terrifying darkness. Whatever it is, you'll know.
"And once you see it, you will know how to use your manifesto. Whether or not you keep it is another thing entirely. If you die, you die, no questions asked, and nobody will know better."
"Well… what was your Master's manifesto?" I inquired.
"She didn't have one. And that's why I believe she died. Do you remember all those years ago when I temporarily left the colosseum on an… errand? Well, that day, I felt my Master's death. That is when I knew she had failed in that crucial moment, and I just went to confirm my fears. Now, I… no we, are going to investigate why."