Mayalyn’s Perspective Continued

The table Mayalyn and Niila sat at exploded as the older girl went right through the wood on her way to the man holding Miila by the neck. Mayalyn’s vision turned red and her peripheral vision shrank as the muscled man loomed ever closer.

She noticed the second man move when it was far too late to block his kick. The boot that landed in her chest smashed her back into the wall behind where she had started and then straight through it.

Splinters of wood and Niila’s screams filled the air as Mayalyn crashed into her own bedroom. The kick knocked all the air out of her lungs. Her vision swam, flickering between darkness and consciousness as her diaphragm refused to function.

Suddenly Niila’s screams were cut short and the voices of the two men conversing reached Mayalyn’s sensitive ears.

“What about the other one?”

“Leave her, these two should be enough. Carrying them all the way is going to be awkward enough as is.”

Mayalyn instinctively released her chakha. As the mana flowed through her veins to every corner of her body, her lungs and chest began to heal. The first lungful of air was as sweet as an ice cold dessert after a hot day at the forge.

Mayalyn moved her hands to lift the wooden planks off her body from the broken wall, then paused. Jiran’s voice echoed in her mind. His words rang like the village warning bell.

‘What could you have done better? You were in too big a hurry. I hope you don’t fight like that when I’m not around.’

Her mother’s voice filled her head immediately after Jirans faded.

‘I wish you would use that big head of yours, little Maymay. It’s not our job to fight, leave that to your uncle, it’s our job to support the tribe, it’s our job to think.’

Think Maymay! Use your head for once.

Jiran isn’t here to save me, nobody is here to save me. If I get up right now, they will kill me. How can I support anyone if I’m dead?

They are higher tier than me and that one moved like Jiran does when he uses that creepy mana thing. He hits as hard as big brother too.

Then what can I do? How do I help? What do they want?

It sounds like they want to take the girls somewhere. We won’t be able to find them if they get away. I can track them! Then I just need to lead Jiran to them.

He’s the blessed, it’s his job to kill the alphas, and it’s my job to show him where they are.

“What are you doing! Get away from my daughters, you bastards!” Mayalyn pinched her eyes closed to hold back her tears as she heard Dandy scream at the two men.

No Dandy, please don’t. They are too strong for us. Please be okay, please be okay.

Several wet thuds rang out in the air before silence returned. She barely held back her sobs while she listened to the sounds of rustling cloth and then a door opening and closing.

She waited for three breaths before pushing the wooden planks off herself and slowly standing.

After making sure the two men were out of sight, she snatched her gloves and tonfas from the top of the nearby dresser. Moving through the hole in the wall, she immediately found Dandy laying in a pool of blood.

She rushed to his side in a near-panic and relief flowed through her when she saw him still breathing. Leaning over his unconscious body, she briefly inspected his wounds. He had been stabbed multiple times, likely by the knife that was still buried in his shoulder.

The blade was stuck through the corner of an envelope with the letters she recognized as Jiran’s name on it.

Why would they write a message to Jiran? They didn’t write this here, there wasn’t time. They came with the letter. That means they came here for Jiran. These are Jiran’s enemies!

As the puzzle pieces slid into place, a feral growl escaped her bruised chest. Suddenly, the pain, fear, and panic from the situation vanished as a single emotion overrode her consciousness. Righteous anger coursed through her veins, leaving no room for doubt and hesitation.

With a snarl, she pulled the knife free from Dandy’s shoulder, her knuckles turned white as she grasped it with all her strength.

Mayalyn stole one last glance at Dandy’s shallow breaths before turning toward the door.

A trickle of mana was forced through her nose before she activated her scenting. She easily picked up traces of mineral oil from Miila’s hair.

With a single sharp motion, she stabbed the dagger into her own arm. Blood quickly traveled down her arm to drip upon the wooden flooring.

Grim determination suffused her every step as she stalked the bastards who had dared to ruin the small place of happiness she had found after being torn from her island.

A trail of blood leading out of the inn was the only sign of her passing.

Jiran’s Perspective

Not a single person finished the obstacle course. Jiran had come the closest by far, failing at the final jump.

In hindsight, I should have realized she wants to break their spirits so she can rebuild them stronger. Classic military indoctrination. Show them how weak they are, then give them the pathway to overcoming those weaknesses together.

“Move cadets! The next slacker to fall behind will find my boot so far up your ass you’ll be flossing your teeth with my laces.”

Jiran rolled his eyes at the cliche military theatrics. He noticed one of the boys in his group was starting to hobble, an injury to his knee not fully healed from the obstacle course slowing him down. He slowed his pace until the boy caught up.

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With a nod and his hand resting on his classmate's shoulder, Jiran sent a regenerative pulse through his body to help with the bad knee before he fell behind.

Their next destination was the rocky field with the storage full of shovels. The brutal pace set by the sergeants left most of the class heaving and panting by the time they arrived. Two even collapsed after puking out their lunches.

“On your feet! It’s time to dig. The graymin are coming and we need this trench dug yesterday!”

Jiran noticed a small army of apparitions approaching their position. They would likely arrive within an hour at their current shuffling pace. He knew from experience that a real army of graymin would have already spotted them and been barreling down on their position at breakneck speeds.

He took the lead, grabbing a shovel and putting it to dirt. Twelve clumps of rock and dirt flew into the air before the first one landed. As Jiran maintained his insane pace of digging, more and more of his fellow students joined him doing their best to keep up.

By the time the fifty graymin apparitions reached their trench, it was three meters deep and two wide with enough space to fit their group two times over.

The graymin came to the edge of their pit and looked down at them with sharp-toothed grins that stretched from ear to ear. Then they vanished as suddenly as they had appeared, leaving the class to collectively sigh in relief.

“You worms just proved you're not even fit to dig a damn hole! Fill this disgrace of a crack back in right now! Move, move, move.”

Jiran tried to keep the grin off his face, knowing his classmates would hate him for it.

I can’t help it if I’m enjoying myself. This is like taking a nice relaxing walk through a haunted house with your friends.

He ran his gaze over the other teenagers around him, noticing their ragged, dirty clothes and clumsy, shuffling feet.

Sorta.

With a shrug, he lightly hopped out of the trench and started filling it back in. His classmates groaned in agony at their break instantly cut short just as it had begun. By the time their work had been undone by their own hands, they were dead on their feet.

Another sprint to the next flag began in typical fashion, with overzealous sergeants screaming in their ears once more. They arrived at a flat field with several square patches of dirt. Most of the class collapsed in exhausted heaps the second they were allowed to stop.

Jiran stood tall, having barely broken a sweat. He made note of the two girls and one boy who were breathing hard but still on their feet.

Good to see there are a few who have taken their physique seriously before enrolling. Samris always wanted me to come here to find strong companions. It can’t hurt to remember these three and talk to them later.

Surprisingly, they were given fifteen minutes to rest before the still-prone teens were kicked to their feet by the barking men in uniform.

“Next is hand to hand combat training. Each cadet will pair off with a superior for… personal instruction.”

The evil grin worn by the man who had been screaming at them for the last two hours, completely failed to instill confidence in his words.

Jiran sensed the mana near him gather in the familiar pattern of a teleportation. Seeing the general shape of the mana, he realized Sophia was coming to give him more of her personal attention.

With a sigh of resignation at the beating he was about to receive, Jiran headed toward an empty square of dirt. When the diminutive woman arrived, she wasted no time following Jiran. Meanwhile, the five sergeants rounded up their first unlucky partners.

Jiran turned to face Sophia once he reached the far end of the square arena.

“Any rules? Or are you just going to pummel me until you’re satisfied?” Despite his bleak words, Jiran wore a wide grin of excitement.

“This is not the obstacle course. I do wish to accurately test your capabilities in hand to hand combat. If I find you acceptable I will allow you to participate in instructing your peers. Show me what you can do.”

Sophia stood relaxed with one hand behind her back. Her other hand rested in the air before her chest. She hardly appeared to be a threat with her short height and slender build. The child-like face that looked up at him held no emotion as she waited patiently for Jiran to attack.

Jiran was unable to restrain his bubbling excitement. It had been too long since he last challenged himself against a superior opponent. He had forgotten the feeling of standing before a mountain of power.

Jiran flung himself forward with his aura. His muscles were fully engaged and pushed well beyond their limits with mana forcing. He crossed the distance between them instantly. A sonic boom exploded from where he had been standing as he easily broke the sound barrier.

By the time the wave of force caught up to him, seven punches had been thrown, each also breaking the sound barrier. The numerous waves of breaking air intercepted each other in a melody of deafening destruction.

Jiran used layers of aura to rebound his arms and legs, shortening the time between each attack by reflecting his momentum. Sophia lazily batted aside his attacks with the single hand that rested in front of her small chest.

After his initial bombardment of blows, Sophia thickened the outer layers of her aura protecting the onlookers from the sonic booms and obscuring them from sight so as not to be a distraction.

The students were left gaping at the punches and kicks which flew faster than their eyes could follow. Meanwhile, the sergeants made mental notes not to antagonize the master class student who was displaying capabilities far beyond his supposed tier.

Jiran pushed his mana forcing to its limits, constantly destroying his own muscles as his body was pushed well beyond what it could safely handle. While one arm was healed, the other struck, while that second arm healed, he kicked. In circles, he danced around the short woman in a blur of self-destructive futility.

Jiran had never expected to actually land a hit. He was more than happy when she was occasionally forced to use the hand that largely rested behind her back. If she had been even one tier lower, he was confident she would have needed to occasionally dodge as well.

Her first attack did not come as a surprise. She slowed herself just enough that he was able to perceive her leg moving in a perfectly timed sweep of his lead leg. He had just placed most of his weight on it, which resulted in his center of balance being destroyed.

Jiran leaned into the fall and allowed his right hand to connect with the ground, becoming his new support. His left leg followed through with a kick to her shoulder which was unceremoniously batted away by her hand.

Jiran lost track of time as he attacked her thousands of times per minute. Her occasional attacks always pointed out weaknesses in his stance, balance, and technique. He took each lesson to heart, doing his best not to repeat the same mistake twice.

She finally called a halt to their spar by smacking him into the ground so hard he bounced out of the arena. Jiran lay on the ground nearby laughing with a huge smile on his face. His broken bones, bleeding skin, and drained aura did nothing to diminish his exhilaration.

What a monster, there’s no way she’s only Tier seven. Eight at least, maybe even nine. Way stronger than Samris for sure.

“Thank you, Professor Sophia. Samris never let me fight him all out like that,” His words came out between heaving breaths and dying laughter.

“Lack of a proper sparring partner would explain your sloppy technique. I commend your creative use of aura and forcing to take full advantage of your increased regeneration. However, you are not cleared to help instruct your peers until you clean up your weaknesses.

“I will set aside time to train with you in the mornings, if you help me with a few errands.”

“Absolutely. Whatever you need, Professor,” Jiran was happy to oblige for such top-tier instruction.

“Very well, I will have things prepared for you tomorrow. Meet me here before First Father. You are dismissed for today.

“One last thing, Jiran. Apply yourself properly during tomorrow afternoon's training, or I will personally ensure you are unable to walk back to your dorm,” With that threat hanging in the air, she vanished.

Yeah, I didn’t want to push myself until I learned what kind of training was in store for us. In hindsight, that was pretty cowardly. I’ll use forcing against my muscles tomorrow so I’m as wiped out as the rest of these poor bastards.

Deciding not to stick around just to watch his classmates get the daylights beat out of them, Jiran hopped up and headed toward the inn. Thoughts of a nice relaxing crafting session with Mayalyn brought a light smile to his lips.