Chapter Fifteen

While keeping his back toward the tree line in case he needed to escape, Arden watched the swaying lily pads, muscles tense. Despite the situation, his heart pounded not from fear but from excitement.

That didn’t mean he lost himself in the rush. The moment it became too much to handle, he would make his escape, or at least try. Who knew what other tricks the creature had?

Another round of five lily pads darted toward him in almost the same pattern as the last round, causing him to frown.

Arden stabbed his spear forward, skewering three lily pads, then swung to the right, ripping the three lily pads off their stems.

Like the others, when he beheaded the stems, they withered and died within moments, leaving the last two of the round angling toward him from the sides. He stepped back, dodging the attempt, then cleaved downward, beheading the two as they met at his previous position.

As the last two withered, he stared at the remaining lily pads waving in the air above the pond, previous excitement gone. What was the point of sending ineffective lily pads at him? Once it lost the element of surprise, what else did it have?

Still, instead of rushing forward, he kept his distance just in case it was trying to lull him into underestimating it. It had to have more than waving lily pads around.

Unfortunately, it yet again sent the same five lily pad attacks at him, which he dealt with just as easily as the last. Odd how it didn’t try to overwhelm him. Now it was too late. Unless it could grow more lily pads, it only had five left. Was there some limit to its attacks? Some creatures with magic-based attacks had limits to exploit. Lily pad attacks definitely seem magical to him. Though they could be part of its body.

He needed to reach the pond, but was it worth it? He could leave if he wanted to. His eyes hardened. No, it attacked him first. It tried to take advantage of his weakness so he would do the same to it.

Spear raised, he took slow steps toward the pond, eyes locked onto the lily pads, which were waving almost erratically. When he reached within a meter of the pond, the lily pads struck. This time far faster.

Arden dove to the side, just barely dodging the lily pads. Before he could reset, they struck again just as fiercely. This time, all he could do was fall to his back and raise his spear.

Two of the lily pads wrapped around the spear, then with surprising strength ripped it from his grasp just as the other three crashed down on him.

He met them with his dagger, slicing through one just as it wrapped around his arm. His eyes widened as his spear hurtled toward him, tip first. Mana pumped through his body as he rolled. Yet again, the two remaining lily pads coiled around his feet and pulled him toward the lake directly in the path of his spear.

Panic filled him as grasped at any idea to stop the spear. In desperation, he activated his Wood Manipulation card and focused all his will on the spear, praying to Ortus it worked.

His mana sunk into the spear, establishing a connection just as it reached him. Instead of skewering him, the spear deformed as if it was spear-shaped putty.

The lily pads froze in confusion, but Arden didn’t. He sat up in a flash, knife in hand. With a swift swipe, he sliced through the lily pads wrapped around his feet. Now free, he did the same with the two holding the deformed spear still pointed where he laid a moment ago.

Not wasting the opportunity, he cleaved through the last two lily pads, then caught his spear. After a quick glance at it, he cut his connection, then tossed it aside to fix later.

Knife clutched in his right hand, he approached the now lily padless pond and peered down. The pond was only a meter deep with green tinted water, allowing him to see a bulb resting on the bottom at the deepest point.

Since he didn’t receive a reward, whatever the thing was must still be alive down there. Still, despite its apparent helplessness, he wouldn’t take any chances.

Instead of diving in to finish the job, he grabbed his mushroom tripped spear and activated wood manipulation. With his knife, he formed a crude tip, which, while sharp, was angled slightly and much less smooth than before. Still, it would have to do for now.

Next, he stretched the spear shaft to gain another half a meter at the cost of strength, then cut his connection.

With an awkward swing of the far too long spear, which flexed precariously on the verge of breaking, he lined up the tip with the bulb under water as he stood at the edge of the pond.

Just as the spear flexed on target, he thrusted it forward, skewing the bulb, then levered it upward. The spear groaned as it bent under the weight, splinters forming near the center foreshadowing a break, but the bulb broke the surface of the water.

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As if it was a snail thrown in a bucket of salt, the bulb shriveled, then disintegrated into motes of light green light. The motes split off, half entering his bracelets causing them to flash while the other half gathered on the surface of the water.

When the light cleared, it revealed a card floating on the surface with a light green border.

His heart jumped at the sight. Then he paused, confused. Was he in a dungeon all along? Only dungeons sent essence directly to Ortus bracelets.

That didn’t make sense though. He shouldn’t be able to enter a dungeon before reaching magehood at grade one. Did his parents figure out a way to sneak him in? If this place was a dungeon, it made more sense why the legacy quest remained unclaimed.

It also explained the extreme mana density. Extreme mana density to him was nothing compared to someone already grade 1 or above.

Since he couldn’t change the fact, he was in a dungeon. He put it out of mind as he focused back on the card floating in the middle of the pond.

He maneuvered the elongated spear toward the card to push it to shore. A snap tore his eyes from the floating card back to his spear, only to find a stump in his hand while the rest floated next to the card.

In anger, he tossed the stump at the card, hitting it dead on, sending it floating toward the opposite shore. Anger gone, he dashed around the pond and bent over to grab the card, only for its momentum to still just out of reach as if to taunt him.

Refusing to be beaten, he grabbed his knife, where he left it near shore, and reached for the card. The knife gave him just enough reach to touch it, but when he used the knife to move the card toward him, he overreached.

The next thing he knew, water rushed up his nose as he face planted into the pond. All previous attempts to avoid the pond wasted. He stood up to find the water reached his waist.

After wiping water out of his eyes, he grabbed the card, but as he peered down on it to inspect it, his body locked up, lava flooding through his every pore.

Terror filled his being as he realized what the pond really was. It wasn’t water. It was liquid mana. With the terror came a drive for survival. Even thinking about moving ratcheted up the pain, but he pushed and pushed.

First a toe twitch, then his legs tensed, sliding his right foot a few centimeters. It was like the pond was molasses. Just that effort earned a tearing sensation in his legs, but his muscles only twitched for a moment before returning to their previous state, rebuilt. He tried again, earning another tear, this time through both his legs, but by sheer will he kept himself upright as the muscles rebuilt.

The next attempt, however, was too much. Before he knew what happened, he was on his knees, nose barely above water. Now almost fully submerged, an unrelenting pressure joined the lava.

His parents pounding into his head never enter a pool of mana without preparation. The unprepared faced crippling or death.

Arden sucked in a breath before dunking all the way under to crawl on his hands knees. Every muscle tearing apart with each centimeter he crawled. Each time growing harder as the highly potent mana seeped deeper into his being.

Still, he didn’t give up. Giving up meant death. No one was waiting to save him. Even if his parents tried, they wouldn’t be able to enter as if the pond was solid, as their bodies would reject liquid mana of the wrong affinity. It was all up to him if he made it out.

Time passed in a haze as he willed his body forward mana, far too potent for his current cultivation seeping in. The mana did both good and bad. It forcefully purified his body, better attuning him to the nature affinity but at the same time it wreaked havoc on his mana system far too underdeveloped to handle the potency.

In fact, the previously mostly clear green tinted liquid turned murkier each time he pushed himself a little closer to the shore.

Like a stop motion video, he moved a little, then froze as his muscles rebuilt a little better, only to tear apart again as he pushed further.

After what felt like an eternity, the shore was within reach. However, another problem presented itself. Instead of a gradual decline from shore to the pond, it was a steep drop off.

On his hands and knees, his forehead barely reached the top of the ledge leading to shore and his salvation. That discovery brought a realization.

Why didn’t he need to breathe? The pond supported him just as much as it destroyed him.

The next few cycles brought him into a crouch. Then, with excruciating slowness, he pushed himself to a standing position.

With the last of his will, he let himself fall forward as he pulled his heels toward his butt. He pulled himself a little further, now much faster while out of the water. Then he let his legs drop, toes right at the edge of the pond.

Relief filled him as his vision dimmed, but he snapped back to attention. He couldn’t let himself fall asleep. Beyond exhausted, he remained prone, face down on the grassy shore as he delved inward.

As his parents taught him, he cycled the remnants of the liquid mana through his veins until none of it remained. This acted to finalize the changes the liquid mana brought. If he didn’t the volatile mana could cause damage, potentially unraveling any progress he made.

Of course, when his parents taught him, they expected him to drink a bottle of liquid mana as a cultivation boost. Not submerge himself in a pond filled with the stuff. Too bad he wasn’t grade one, where he could utilize the liquid mana to its fullest.

At the thought of grade one, his mind drifted deeper, then stalled as he stared with his mental eye at a now colorful vine woven with six shades of green.

At first, he thought he reached grade one already, but it wasn’t the case. He was still a half step away. The only step left was to complete the connection between his soul and his mana core. Of course, it was easier said than done.

The last step blocked many from reaching grade one. Anyone could absorb enough mana to form the connection, but only those with the will to push further could make the last push to full magehood.

Fortunately, his parents taught him well. He wouldn’t be someone who languished at the cusp. However, he was in no condition to make the final push.

First, he needed to let his body and mana system settle. One of the biggest mistakes many make was pushing for magehood before they were physically ready.

If someone attempted too early, they could set themselves back several steps or worse, damage the fragile connection to their soul, forcing them to start over from scratch. He would do neither. He couldn’t afford to.

In fact, it was far better for him to stay at the cusp of grade one until after he completed his quest in case he failed. If he failed, it would mean more than starting over. He would lose his chance to complete his legacy class card quest.

Though he had a feeling he would need the extra strength of grade one for the challenges ahead.