[[Volume 1]]: Humble Beginnings

Chapter 4: Introductions

Tyrith left his dorm, and walked to the building where Verrick told him they would meet. The building was in the inner ring of the academy, close to the spire. Tyrith walked into the building, and as he opened the doors, he saw Verrick waiting for him, next to some unfamiliar equipment.

The floor in the building was made of gray tiled stone, and the interior walls were a plain eggshell white, with wooden beams. Verrick stroked his thin gray beard as he spoke.

["Greetings, Tyrith. We will begin your training by getting a more quantitative measure of your abilities. I want to measure how much damage you can output, how much mana your core can contain, and how well you can control 'Slice.' "]

Tyrith nodded along.

["Alright, what exactly do I need to do?"]

["First, we will start off with measuring how much damage your 'Slice' can do, which we can equate to a Standard Damage Unit. You'll need to tell me the percentage of mana this takes out of your core. From that, we can calculate how many Standard Mana Units your core can contain, and place you in a Tier. Generally, most Red cores will be in Tier 0, but some rare cases are in Tier 1 or even 2."]

["The way we can measure your damage is with this machine."]

Verrick patted the machine, which looked like a stone archery target, attached to a clockwork contraption.

["This is a Damage Dummy. It uses the intensity of damage applied to the stone to display how many SDU have been dealt to it, through the wonders of runes. Now, I'm going to set it up, and I want you to give it a full-powered 'Slice.' "]

Verrick took the machine to the center of the room, fiddled with some knobs on it, then injected some mana into it. The interface above the target lit up.

["Alright, go ahead."]

Tyrith took a breath, faced the target, condensed his mana to full power, and opened his hand to 'Slice.'

A small chip appeared on the target, and the number 13 popped up on the damage dummy's interface.

Verrick gave a whistle as he looked at the number.

["That's a solid amount of damage for a new Red core."]

Verrick plugged the damage dummy into another machine, this one more boxy and sleek on the outside, which lit up after he injected mana into it.

["Now how much mana did that take out of your core, as a percentage?"]

["Mm.. feels like about 10%"]

["Ok, and given your current talent in mana compression, which should be around 0...."]

Verrick flicked some levers on the side of the new machine, then pressed a button. The number 0.4 is displayed on the interface.

["So you're a little higher than average, that's good. Tier 0.4, so you should reach Tier 1 by the middle of the Red core. Converting that to Standard Mana Units, that would be around 50. Based on that, each full-powered 'Slice' currently takes around 5 mana."]

["Just for your reference, I'm a Blue core at the dim striped stage, and my mana reaches Tier 5, with a mana count of around a hundred thousand. Of course that isn't taking into account things like attributed mana, innate mana regeneration, things like that. The average mana count at the beginning of the Red core is 25."]

["Anyways, your innate spell is very clearly combat-oriented. Tell me more about what you can do with it."]

["My innate spell seems like it allows me to cut things, as if they have been sliced with a knife. So far I can turn up the power and turn down the power, and that's about it."]

["I see. But can't you also peel things with a knife? Have you tried constantly maintain whatever is doing this slicing, and wielding it?"]

Tyrith's brows raised in surprise.

["I didn't know you could do that. I thought it was just, bam, you have your Innate Spell, and that's it."]

Verrick rolled out his neck as he spoke.

["No, as long as you can get a little creative, you can force your innate spell to bend a little bit. Try it."]

Verrick took out an apple and held it in the palm of his hand.

["Try to peel this apple."]

["What if I accidentally cut you?"]

["Don't worry. You won't be able to, even at full power."]

Tyrith shrugged and put his hand out in front of him.

['Slice']

A cut appeared on the apple. Tyrith frowned, and tried again, this time trying hard to shape the slice into a sphere.

['Slice']

A dimple appeared in the face of the ample, spherical in shape.

<"Hmm... the spherical shape isn't going to work... Try wielding it continuously? ">

Tyrith put his hand out again and cast 'Slice,' this time, trying to hold the slice and move it around in space. This produced a small cut on the surface of the apple, and as he moved his hand around, it slowly peeled the apple, before accidentally slicing a bit of it off.

<"Doing it this way feels like trying to swim against a river. This could be quite useful though.">

["That's enough for now. I just wanted you to see that your Innate Spell is far more versatile than you thought. Practice using it every day.']

Tyrith nodded and thought that he would have to create a training plan.

["I need to know how fast your mana regenerates. Drain your main by 'Slicing' that target, then we'll continue. Once you've fully regenerated, interrupt me to tell me. Anyways..."]

Verrick walked over to the other side of the room, motioning for Tyrith to follow him. On that side of the room, there were stuffed dummies in the shape of humans, and a weapons rack. On the weapons rack sat five steel swords, all identical to each other.

["Your guide should have told you that at the Bladespire, we learn not just magic but martial arts. You'll be learning the way of the sword. We try to complement our students' weapons to their Innate Spells. Obviously, a sword is very much suited to 'Slice' "]

Verrick picked up one of the swords, and inspected it, before handing it to Tyrith, holding the blade.

["You will start with a one-handed sword."]

Tyrith took the sword and wrapped his hand around the wooden handle. It was smooth and slightly cold to the touch.

Verrick watched as Tyrith moved the sword around.

["Have you held a sword before?"]

["I have not. The only weapon I've used is a bow, as a child."]

["I can tell. Let me show you how to hold it."]

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Verrick corrected Tyrith's posture, moving his hand up the handle slightly.

["Make sure to never fully extend your arm unless you are committed to a strike, as it will greatly limit your flexibility."]

["The fundamental moves for swordplay are Slicing, Stabbing, and Parrying."]

["When you are slicing, you want to lop something off, accumulate damage, or irritate. To do so, think of your arm as being a whip, drawing a mark across your opponent."]

["When stabbing, your goal is to penetrate armor or get at internal organs. Use your arm like a spring."]

["When parrying your goal is to defend yourself, and ideally set yourself up for a counterattack. Protect your vitals, or anticipate your opponent's moves. The motions will be different depending on the weapon your opponent is using."]

["Practice stabbing and slicing on the combat dummy."]

Verrick stood and waited for Tyrith to begin. Tyrith took a step forward and faced the dummy. He sliced, moving towards the dummy, slashing open the chest. Then, he took a step back, before stabbing into the head of the dummy.

Verrick nodded as he watched.

["You're alright for a first-timer. Continue."]

Tyrith continued to slash and stab at the dummies, making sure to keep moving around it. The surface of the leathery dummy filled up with pockmarks and gashes. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his head as he exerted himself. This went on for almost 15 minutes until Verrick stepped in front of him and caught the blade in his hand. A chip of metal flew off from the blade as it made contact with his hand.

["That's enough for now. Now you will practice parrying a sword."]

Verrick picked up a sword from the rack and faced Tyrith.

["I'm going to slice, then stab. Try to deflect it, send me off balance, and attack me."]

Verrick slowly raised his sword, then brought it down, sweeping towards Tyrith. Tyrith brought his sword in front of him and angled it to block Verrick's blade. Verrick's sword bared down, and it made contact with Tyrith's sword, almost making his knees buckle from the force, however, he succeeded in deflecting it, making it slide off to the side. Tyrith tried to quickly stab at Verrick, but he had already recovered, deflecting Tyrith's sword with such force that it flew out of his hand.

["Pick it up, and try again."]

The process repeated, Tyrith barely able to deflect the first blow, and his attack was blocked by Verrick. He learned to deflect both stabs and slashes, and Verrick's blows grew heavier the longer they fought. Eventually, after the 5th exchange in one round, Tyrith managed to hold his sword steady and just barely get Verrick with the tip of his blade.

["Well done."]

["This is enough for today. I'm going to prescribe you a physical exercise regimen that you should do every day. Tomorrow, you'll meet your practice partner, and I'll teach you both a Sword Technique. Also, you're free to come to this building at any time to use the equipment. This building has been allocated to me by the Academy. Anyway, off you go."]

Verrick handed him a slip of paper, then made a shooing motion with his hands, and Tyrith took the hint and left, going to back to his dorm. He walked slowly through the streets as he pondered his first experience with the sword. It felt thrilling. The feeling was like nothing else, better even than when he used 'Slice.'

He sat down on his bed in his dorm, lit a lamp, and unfurled the paper slip he had been given. He began to read the physical training he had been assigned:

{Physical Training for Tyrith: Daily: 5km run, brisk pace. 100 pushups, 100 sit-ups, 100 pullups. Weekly: At least one 10km run. At least 2 sessions of bench and squat in the weight room. 20 hours of sword practice. Monthly: Win one spar with another student. End of year goal: Win one spar against Verrick, while he is blindfolded, ears plugged, using one leg and arm, having not slept for 4 days.}

Tyrith raised an eyebrow at the last sentence written on the paper.

<"The gulf between our physical prowess is vast, not to mention the magical gap. I don't know if I'll ever catch up to him. I only need to be a Yellow core to become a researcher.">

Tyrith thought for a while longer, before placing the slip of paper in a drawer in his desk. It was time to go to his first class, Political History and Magic.

The classroom for this class was located in one of the larger buildings, which was a couple rings out from the spire. In the building were many classrooms, but the classroom for PH&M was the largest, seating over 500 students. There were usually only 500 students admitted per year.

Tyrith walked into the classroom, and surveyed it. It was in an arc formation, with various levels going down, and sets of stairs. There were robust desks lining the levels. The walls transitioned from metal to stone as the classroom dove underground. Lighting was provided by sconces on the wall, and hanging chandeliers, both of which have been brightened and prolonged through magical means.

At the very bottom of the room, there were 5 large chalkboards, and a large desk for the instructor, as well as smaller desk for the teaching assistants. Standing behind the instructor's desk was a tall, regal man. He had long blonde hair, and piercing eyes. He was dressed in a black buttoned shirt and leather slacks. He watched as students filtered into the classroom.

Tyrith chose a desk near the middle of the room, and sat down in the surprisingly comfortable chair. On the desk sat a blank piece of paper, and 5 square patches of black nothingness inset into the desk. He brushed his hand over the black squares, and they felt cold and smooth.

After ten minutes, the instructor decided enough students had come in. He straightened his back, made a complex motion with his hand, and spoke.

["Greetings students. I am Lucien, the assistant head of research for the academy, and your professor for Political History and Magic. Some of you may be wondering why there is magic tacked onto the end. I can tell you, however, there will be a few caveats."]

Lucien snapped his fingers. On the blank sheet of paper on everyone's desks, words appeared.

["What I will teach you in this class is not suitable to be public knowledge. You will either sign these contracts, which will prevent you from speaking about the contents of these classes to anyone who has not received such a class, or get out now."]

Lucien waited a moment, looking around. No one left the classroom.

["Alright, get to signing. Every Upper Academy has a class like this, to inform budding young mages of their mission."]

Lucien waited for everyone to finish signing their contracts. Tyrith read his before signing it:

{By signing this contract, you agree to never reveal the contents of what you learn in this Political History and Magic class, through any means, to any member of the general public who has not already come into contact with these contents. If you violate this, in letter or in spirit, your mind will be obliterated by the will of the contract. Sign Here: }

Tyrith blinked at the obliteration part, then with a healthy mix of fear and curiosity, signed his name in the indicated space. It shone with a purple light, then the whole paper vanished into his desk.

After a few minutes, everyone had finished. Lucien performed some sort of spell on the papers that had appeared on his desk, then nodded satisfied.

["Now that everyone has signed these contracts, I'll begin. The weave that holds the space of our world together is inherently unstable. This spatial instability leads to... rifts opening in our world, letting space from other worlds intrude. These rifts have lots of names, Lairs, Dungeons, to generalize it we call them all Rifts. The contents of these rifts are not something you'd expect from a random selection from another world. The reason why and how Rifts appear is a highly active area of research. "]

As he spoke, Lucien cast spells, forming the illusion of a woven blanket. Initially, the weave of the blanket was tight, but holes were torn into it, filling with material of different color and texture.

["The contents of Rifts vary, but usually there will be runes which compose a spell, something magical in nature, and many, many Beasts. Beasts are similar to wild animals, but stronger, sometimes with innate magic, and filled with a vitriolic fury and a desire to destroy everything in sight. Rifts also contain valuable resources, mineras, vegetable, and as I've mentioned, magical. A lot of the most powerful spells in the Empire's repertoire have come from high-rank rifts."]

Lucien conjured the image of a 5 meter tall Beast, which looked like a cross between a gorilla and a bear, its eyes glowing with magic.

["We rank rifts based on the spatial disturbance they generate when they appear. Most rifts are low rank, few rifts are high rank. Generally, the ranks go from 1 at the lowest, to 15 at the highest. Rank 15 rifts are seen perhaps once every thousand years. The Beasts which spill forth from the Rift are of the same Rank as the Rift."]

["Getting to the political aspect of the class, we will talk about the exact political situation of the world, and have rifts and magic have affected the evolution of power. The appearance of Rifts has determined the rise and fall of nations. "]

["For example, the reason The Principality was destroyed was because a Rank 14 rift appeared in its center. Their Death-Magi were able to contain the Beasts, and successfully looted an artifact of immense power. However, the other nations learned of this, and were not happy that The Principality would rise in power. Our Empire, The Theocracy, The Kingdom of the Dragon Father, the Great Merchant Group, the Democratic States of Arcana, and The Ultimate Covenant got together and formed an alliance the likes of which had never been seen before. "]

Lucien raised his hand with an open palm, and projected blurry figures of light. A golden lion, a green dragon, a white sphere, a purple crystal, a silver coin, and a blue chain, surrounding a red throne. The figures surrounding the throne lunged toward it.

["Together, we assaulted the capital of The Principality, all vying for the artifact. In the end, the Arcana States managed to whisk it away to their capital with a Teleportation Mage. Overwhelmed at losing the artifact, the alliance quickly fell apart, and fighting ensued, further destroying the capital of the Principality. Suddenly, after a couple of days of fighting, an unfathomably powerful strike broke through the dimensional barrier from the Realm of the Lord, and killed everyone on the spot, corrupting the landscape for hundreds of kilometers around, forming what is now known as the Cursed Region. That was what destroyed The Principality, and also all the publicly known Violet cored mages of the world."]

The figures in his hand were obliterated by a white light, leaving a craggy landscape behind. Lucien closed his hand into a fist, banishing the light.

["After the Inheritance War, and the strike from the upper realm, the Lord fell silent. Communication has broken down with the upper realm. As well as this, The Ultimate Covenant retreated to the other continent, isolating themselves from the world. The Arcana States rose quickly in power, while the Empire, the Kingdom, and the Theocracy suffered."]

["That is the impact a Rank 14 Rift can have on the world. Now imagine what a Rank 15 could do. We can only theorize because we don't have any Rank 15s in our history book."]

["Your job as a mage of the Empire is to contain and digest these Rifts, protecting the Empire and adding to its power. If the call for aid sounds, we must answer, or we will all end up destroyed."]

["Did you get all that?"]

All the students stared at him in dumb shock from the information overload.

Lucien nodded, then clapped.

["Excellent!"]