Kyrie, Son of Cordelia and Bill, was raised in the academic city of Parc. Citizens in Parc are born with nanomachines that lie mostly dormant until awakened. These nanomachines work to keep track of vitals on top of eliminating diseases and foreign viruses of a non-magical nature.
The children have their aptitudes tested at an early age before they take their base class. From there, they train in said class until they reach 10 and evolve their basic class into their primary class, normally done at around ten. Marking them as a fledgling in this city.
When their primary class is evolved into an advanced class, they became practitioners. When they reach the end of practitioner, they may undergo the trial known as integration. After that, the nanomachines in their body undergo an evolution that allows them to perform at a higher level giving them access to legendary class labeling the Experts.
Kyrie had been the youngest expert of his generation, mastering the Warrior class, before taking the Spell Meister class, a caster class focused on combining big spells with his strikes for maximum destructive potential. Later it evolved into the Living Arsenal legendary class. He was going to reach the realm of Myth one day. He was going to be the greatest warrior in the world.
At least, that was before that man claiming to be him sent him to some backwater world to kill and absorb his infant doppelganger. It was supposed to be an easy battle, but he proved ill-prepared.
Kyrie encountered a man who resembled his brother, and the two fought in a ritual circle that absorbed the mana of anyone using magic and empowered the caster. Magic like that was weak where he came from. It takes a long time to prepare and an absurd amount of knowledge to put to work. What happened there reeked of understanding of their arrival.
With a blade through his heart, his tale ended. A small book, the only thing remaining of him. His entire life’s story. It was pretty small but dense with adventure.
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Kyrion slammed the book closed as his brain absorbed the information and placed it to the side. He could feel a new soul in his core beginning the integration process. The one belonging to Kyrie, Kyrion, got the feeling that his head wouldn't get any quieter in the coming days.
"Hello there." Kyrion said to no one in particular.
"What the hell is going on?" A confused voice replied.
"Welcome to the insanity that is Kyrion's brain." Psycho stated.
"You. You're not an infant." Kyrie looked at the old hooded man that was known as Psycho.
"I am referred to as Psycho. However, I live here for now, and I suspect that something big is afoot."
"Why is that?"
"Because the two of you don't seem compatible." Kyrion said from a sitting position in his head.
"What are you saying?" Psycho asked Kyrion.
"My soul houses yours out of necessity but for some reason you're rejected like a disease and whenever you try to forcefully implant memories it leads to my brain getting damaged. Kyrie however did so without harming me whatsoever.."
"Yeah, I can feel a kindred spirit despite your slothful nature." Kyrie said.
"Slothful?" Kyrion looked at Psycho for reassurance.
"Yeah. If he spent more time learning how to fight properly instead of how to cheat his way to the top then he could be half decent." Psycho yawned.
"No, no, get this straight, a healer that fights fairly is a dead healer." Kyrion argued.
"He isn't wrong. What is fairness in a life and death battle? I died because I believed more in honor than pragmatism."
"Yeah… To be fair, I learned that from my grandfather. He was physically strong but one time during training he told me something. Winning with ideal's and honor will only get you so far. Those on the top will use every little thing at their disposal to destroy their enemy before they can reach their true strength. Give away nothing and end the battle without showing your true power. For those like you will search for a weakness. Let them believe your lies and know how to capitalize."
"What. Was your grandfather a thug?" Kyrie took a step back.
"Who really knows." Kyrion put his hands behind his back as he got to his feet.
"Where is your grandfather now?"
"Probably dead. He was like a bajillion years old." Kyrion moved his arms to shrug.
"You haven't said that out loud before. If you don't know your best then how will you fight when it matters." Psycho stated.
"My full manifestation is powerful, but no one here has the ability to push me into using it. Aside from the headmaster and some other teachers. We both know my level of power my best is. Not something I use on anyone I'm not prepared to kill."
"You're also limited to not going over practitioner rank in terms of output remember?"
"Right… Right. I really did step on my own toes there."
"Not really. It's to buy you some time." Psycho stated.
"It means I can't harm Gamodren. Not alone anyway." Kyrion scowled.
"You just need to last until the incursion begins. After that, hit the expert rank and you will have power beyond human comprehension."
"I see."
"So, he's weak. How can he be me if he's so weak?" Kyrie pointed at the meditating Kyrion.
"Each path to power is different. While your path is intended to be fast, it isn't flexible. Physically the Kyrion here is only slightly weaker physically. His next stage of practitioner will make him stronger physically. Quite strong for a human to be honest, but a necessity. Channeling high amounts of mana can be dangerous to a weakened vessel. His body will be perfect for large scale magic in the future despite his mental limitations."
"Very funny. I don't have to take this from you." Krion scowled
The voices in his head heard the proverbial door shut. As Kyrion let his concentration fade.
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Holding out his hand Kyrion willed the mana in his body to create a long staff-like weapon in his hand. Almost like a trident, only it had four stabbing bits. To the average observer, it looked like a pitchfork. To those with a keen eye, it looked like a high-quality pitchfork. And to a farmer, it was the pitchfork. A Paddington 200 is a pitchfork with outstanding durability. His father had always wanted one of these. Sadly it was only a replica.
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“A pitchfork… Red hair, horns, and a pitchfork. Wow. Just wow. Do you know what a devil is?” Karl asked in surprise.
“Not a pitchfork. The pitchfork. Get it right or get done.” Kyrion sighed.
“Sure. You get the ability to turn your mana into weapons and the first thing you make is a farming implement.”
“I don’t really need any more weapons, I have Antastesia, and my Chakram, plus I have quite a few different staves. Why would I need a new weapon?” Kyrion said aloud.
“Kyrion? Are you doing ok up there?” Ander asked as he was halfway hanging at a window.
“Yeah! Just talking to the voices in my head. They tell me that I should use a different weapon.” Kyrion rolled to the side of the roof and looked down at the green-haired boy.
“Ok. I heard the word….” Ander looked a bit green as he turned his head.
“I’ll be sure to get you something for your motion sickness before we leave.” Kyrion leaned back into his position.
“Max, can you slow down? We’re going too fast!” Minah was panicking quite a bit as she looked left and right.
“Minah, we’re only going 20 miles an hour. You run faster than this quite easily.” Max groaned.
“It’s kinda tight in here. Do I need to wear this seatbelt thing?” Brion said as he tried to loosen it.
Snickers the dog had his head out of another window.
The three surviving goblins were stuffed in the back row with Tiffany, Bastion, Hel, Mildrid, and the headmaster. The situation was quite awkward as The goblins had a bone to pick with Tiffany. Bastion, being a curious boy, asked Hel personal questions without a filter. While the headmaster seemed to be appeasing the confused guest.
Bella wore a set of fuzzy earmuffs to ignore the ruckus that was going on in the backseat.
Max quickly seemed to be losing his joy for driving and was quite tempted to ram them into a tree. Luckily his self-preservation kept him from doing that, and the group slowly made it to the academy.
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Holding out his hand Kyrion willed the mana in his body to create a long staff-like weapon in his hand. Almost like a trident, only it had four stabbing bits. To the average observer, it looked like a pitchfork. To those with a keen eye, it looked like a high-quality pitchfork. And to a farmer, it was the pitchfork. A Paddington 200 is a pitchfork with outstanding durability. His father had always wanted one of these. Sadly it was only a replica.
“A pitchfork… Red hair, horns, and a pitchfork. Wow. Just wow. Do you know what a devil is?” Karl asked in surprise.
“Not a pitchfork. The pitchfork. Get it right or get done.” Kyrion sighed.
“Sure. You get the ability to turn your mana into weapons and the first thing you make is a farming implement.”
“I don’t really need any more weapons, I have Antastesia, and my Chakram, plus I have quite a few different staves. Why would I need a new weapon?” Kyrion said aloud.
“Kyrion? Are you doing ok up there?” Ander asked as he was halfway hanging at a window.
“Yeah! Just talking to the voices in my head. They tell me that I should use a different weapon.” Kyrion rolled to the side of the roof and looked down at the green-haired boy.
“Ok. I heard the word….” Ander looked a bit green as he turned his head.
“I’ll be sure to get you something for your motion sickness before we leave.” Kyrion leaned back into his position.
“Max, can you slow down? We’re going too fast!” Minah was panicking quite a bit as she looked left and right.
“Minah, we’re only going 20 miles an hour. You run faster than this quite easily.” Max groaned.
“It’s kinda tight in here. Do I need to wear this seatbelt thing?” Brion said as he tried to loosen it.
Snickers the dog had his head out of another window.
The three surviving goblins were stuffed in the back row with Tiffany, Bastion, Hel, Mildrid, and the headmaster. The situation was awkward as The goblins had a bone to pick with Tiffany. Bastion, being a curious boy, asked Hel personal questions without a filter. While the headmaster seemed to be appeasing the confused guest.
Bella wore a set of fuzzy earmuffs to ignore the ruckus that was going on in the backseat.
Max quickly seemed to be losing his joy for driving and was quite tempted to ram them into a tree. Luckily his self-preservation kept him from doing that, and the group slowly made it to the academy.
Upon stopping, everyone inside the vehicle departed. Only one person was missing.
“Huh. Where did Kyrion run off to?” The headmaster asked, knowing the answer but checking the students’ awareness of the situation.
“What? When did he? Did he fall off?” Minah asked.
“Doubt he fell off.” Max replied.
“Blind faith?”
“No, we left going much faster while he stayed unbothered,” Ander said as he hugged the solid ground.
Bella scowled as her stomach growled. “That damned bastard.”
“What?”
“Where he is. I bet it had something to do with food.”
“Didn’t he just eat a giant sandwich before we left?” Hel brought up?
Bastion curiously turned around and began to wander off, the headmaster following behind him. Both weren’t seen leaving as the students were distracted.
Brion threw Ander over his shoulder. “I did hear a loud thump.
Tiffany pulled out the pendant and examined it, seeing a rare emotion. Distress. There was something he didn’t want to talk about. Which meant he had gone to his personal grove. “I bet he’s just tired. Probably jumped to his room when we were getting out.”
“Yeah. It’s been a long day. I’ll get Ander to the nurse’s office.” Finally, Brion seemed to catch on.
“Great. Well, it’s time for lunch. Anyone care to join me?” Bella hadn’t really asked as she grabbed Max and Minah and began to lead them off. Hel followed behind, not wanting to be the only one left behind.
Only Hel hadn’t been alone. Three goblins stood near the trunk unsupervised.
“They forgot about us.” The tuba-wearing goblin said, dumbstruck.
“Bah. Do you think they’ll care If I start blowing stuff up?”
“Of course. Since we’re out lets be responsible goblins and go find the person who created this thing.” The tinkerer led the goblins deeper into Cecil’s warehouse.
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Kyrion sat in a field of flowers, meditating his mana flowing outward into the air, plants, and water
as he cleared his mind.
“How are you holding up, Kyrion?” The headmaster asked. Both he and Bastion were standing outside the circle of mana Kyrion had begun manipulating.
“Physically I’m fine. Mentally? I think I’m losing myself. So many people expect much from me and honestly I hate it. Others want me dead, and I have to expose myself to them very soon. I can see why my dad had chosen to live as a farmer so long. It’s so much less stressful.” Kyrion held up a patch of red hair that had fully become silver.
“SIlver? You’re graying earlier than most.”
“Exactly.”
“What do you want? A vacation? Last time you went on one of those you were arrested.”
Kyrion squinted as a leaf slowly began to float down toward the headmaster.
The leaf transformed into a dagger as it fell, gaining speed before stopping an inch away from his head. The blade then turned into a teddy bear. Which was handed to Bastion.
The bear returned to its original leaf shape immediately.
“Aww.” Bastion looked at the leaf questioningly.
“My aren’t you aggressive today.”
“I’m surprised you noticed.” Kyrion lay on his back and looked up at the sky.
“Do you want to talk?”
“No. Just need some personal time to work things out. Preferably not on people who come interrupting my meditation.”
“Fine, fine I’ll just tell the others that our special training retreat will have to wait. We were going to take a cruise to an island nation to the west of our location. Exotic foods, relaxing hikes, hot springs of the highest quality. There are quite a few things to do there as well.”
Kyrion seemed to perk up when food was mentioned. His attention was now focused on his second chance at a vacation.
“Best part of all. The Beastblood empire can’t touch the place.”
“You had me at , food.”
“You’ll also need to find yourself a new teacher. One that can teach you how to better use your abilities. Gamodren taught you how to think and Exac taught you how to heal but you need something else now. You need to master that manifestation of yours. I can tell that you held back quite a bit.” Caeden said.
“You mean I’ll have to learn how to kill.” Kyrion didn’t flinch as he said that.
“Yes. You’ll need to learn how to deal with human threats that won’t back down. You have that killer instinct, and I can tell it’s like a caged beast whirling at its cages. You’re scared that once you start, you won’t be able to stop. Which tends to be one of those self-fulfilling prophecies.
“Huh? No. Killing is one of those things that’s a last resort. I have killed before. Sentient creatures even, that's what the whole gremlin dungeon was for. Gremlin’s are sentient like everyone else, they just aren’t normally free to choose.”
“You say that now. Monsters are one thing, humans are another. That’s why you’re training.”
“Shouldn’t you be training Minah. She needs it the most. I shouldn’t have been able to win the way I did. That environment, while helpful in most ways, was chosen so that I don’t go reckless and kill innocents.”
“I already did when you so kindly let me borrow your face. I’ve been telling her that using an ability like hers to fight people head on was an exercise in futility. It’s a flexible ability that has been poorly utilized. Especially given its defensive potential. That was why I took her as a student in the first place. But no, punching stuff and causing explosions is uber cool.” The headmaster quoted with his fingers.
“Maybe there is merit in teaching someone how to create before destroying.” Kyrion offered.
“Yeah. Bastion is getting the boring lessons first. Especially when you consider that he doesn’t have a natural offense as of yet.”
“There’s going to be lots of reading there isn’t it.” Bastion looked down.
“Not at all. You seem to have a form of dyslexia, and my handwriting is atrocious. You will need to learn how to read in a non-traditional way.” Caeden instructed
“Great.” Bastion didn’t seem to care.
“Huh. You didn’t tell me you were dyslexic.”
“I don’t even know what that word means.” Bastion said honestly.
“Fair enough.” Kyrion stood and sighed.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to go get my allowance and get ready to go. Is Cecil allowed to come along?”
“He should agree quite easily.”
“If you say so.” Kyrion didn’t argue. He stood up and left, headed towards the academy town to purchase a good amount of rations after selling off the materials he’s gathered to the blacksmith for a good amount of school credit.
His last trip for the day involved visiting his sister for some potions. This was probably the most challenging thing he’d have to do today. He wasn’t very attached, and with his mother hanging about nearby, it was highly likely they’d be together. If she wasn’t with Illanda.