The void barely dulled the twang of Nadia’s bow, as she released the first arrow. It soared through the air at speeds beyond the grasp of even Xerion’s [Penetrating Gaze of the Sorrowful] enhanced vision.

When its metal tip bored into the head of a Darkfiend Wolf Alpha leading its pack, the monster continued to run for a few more seconds before realizing death had already claimed it.

“Around fifty targets in total. Low essence usage; we don’t want to bring unwanted attention to ourselves, no? And let some of them pass for my mentee to deal with.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, Duene. Now please stop whining and go do your thing.”

And that she did, the diminutive woman shooting forward like a comet streaking through the sky, sprinting straight for the middle of the pack. The tar-like ground so prevalent in the lands ruled by the dark didn’t slow her at all, her feet merely grazing its surface yet gaining more and more momentum.

Vaikus’ enormous shield slammed into the earth, and Xerion watched as the giant leaned on it, using the magical tool only as support for his substantial mass. Both of the man’s arms landed on top of it, then his head lowered, which allowed him to assume the perfect viewing position. The ever-present calm didn’t leave his eyes for even an instant.

The young Practitioner looked around, seeing another member of Team Hylkiö standing in place and playing with his watery tentacle. The blue-clad lad used it to tickle himself, then laughed as if the liquid just pulled an unexpected prank on him.

“Uh, is this fine?” the boy asked his teacher, gesturing at everyone’s behavior. His companion, a regal-in-appearance Spirit, seemed to be equally baffled by the strange turn of events.

“Of course,” Nadia answered. “My dearest is a person of many talents, but none comes to her quite as easily as the slaughter of weaklings.”

“Well, that’s just lovely, ain’t it?

“Indeed.”

Duene’s sword barely gained the typical golden glow associated with Positive Emotional Essence usage before heads started raining left and right. Flowing, ink-like flesh struck the ground, seamlessly blending in with it due to its corrupted nature. Blood filled with rot and other filth of mystical origins flew far, bits of it crossing such a distance as to reach the mentor-mentee duo.

The pack of monsters was quick to realize a true hunter entered their midst, yet their attempts to escape proved ineffective. The blade in the woman’s palm was a formidable and ruthless weapon, but not nearly as much as she herself.

“I don’t think she’s gonna let me deal with any, teach.”

“Indeed.”

To the utter surprise of everyone present, Duene did make sure to send a couple of Fiends down Xerion’s way. The boy ensured this opportunity to release some tension wasn’t wasted.

Slow, deep breaths gave way to quicker ones as he charged, a saber in hand. Ether ran alongside, eager to claim a pound of flesh for itself. The Spirit hound seemed particularly wrathful at the sight of its lesser brethren, as if their mere existence was an affront to all it held dear.

When the first monster arrived, the duo dealt with it in an incredible display of coordination. The white wolf jumped, its legs bending for extra power, then shrunk itself mid-flight. Now the size of a pup, it used its ethereal claws to rip open the Fiend’s stomach, gutting the beast alive. The young Practitioner finished it with an even slash across its neck.

The pair stopped and looked at each other, in disbelief at how easy that was. Yes, this was merely a Juvenile they disposed of, but the feeling of winning in such a smooth manner filled their chests with pride.

Before they got a chance to properly enjoy their victory, their second opponent came. It lasted no longer than the initial one, its death supplied in an identical way. The third learned from the mistakes of its siblings, watching them with wariness clear in its gaze. It approached all the same; a poor decision.

Ether became a streaking cloud as it speeded along the ground, moving between the darkness-inclined wolf’s limbs and nipping at them while releasing joyful yips. The boy allowed it to have this one, the canine’s end coming in the form of a ripped throat.

The final beast – for Duene couldn’t let them take too much of her fun – tested its fate against Xerion’s, in a duel of sorts.

The Heart Practitioner put an arm behind his back, the other holding onto his saber. He stared the monster down, and just as it was about to pounce on him, he employed [Conceptual Manipulation].

Courage in its purest form slammed into the Heartspace of the nigh-mindless minion of the dark, instantly overcoming its defenses. The boy’s Attributes grew considerably in the last two weeks, and that trotting pile of void dung held no chance when faced with his conceptual onslaught.

He located the fire responsible for this hound’s bravery and suppressed it as much as he was able. By the time he was done, the Fiend didn’t even protest when he walked over to it and calmly cut off its head in a single, wide swing.

“Nicely done, I’d say,” Nadia praised. “Feeling better now?”

“A bit, but this place still sucks.”

“That it does, that it does.”

----------------------------------------

Xerion found himself stuffing four pelts into his spatially-expanded backpack, after receiving an impromptu lesson on the processing of hunted prey from Duene. The diminutive woman proved to be quite the patient teacher when it came to matters she deemed worthy of her attention, and this certainly belonged to that category.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

She explained to him, with deliberate slowness and care, the intricacies of removing a beast’s fur and cleaning it afterward. The precision and placement of cuts were of paramount importance in this undertaking, the swordfighter teaching him the methodology she employed to avoid damaging the materials.

Despite the randomness of the knowledge he gained today, the young Practitioner’s heart swelled with gratitude and warmth. He thought of Duene as his oldest friend, yet it was hard to keep a normal relationship with her, given her many, many quirks. To see her take an active interest in his life and education was an unexpected joy.

He did, of course, first ask Nadia whether they had the time for all that, but his mentor acted uncharacteristically reticent following the battle’s end. She kept checking something and mumbling “too close” under her nose, but when he tried to inquire what that meant, he was met with only the word “later” and a dismissive wave of her palm.

After securing their spoils of war, the team resumed their journey, though not for long. Another two hours of pushing through the landscape designed to turn people insane sapped their energy – mostly his – and so, a decision was reached to set up camp. They’d wake up early tomorrow and continue then.

Xerion jumped at the opportunity to take an additional, longer break and to be useful. His hand disappeared into the confines of his pouch, to appear in the next instant with a bundle of wooden, sigiled stakes held within it.

At first, he took a slow approach to setting up this Ritual, but things had to be expedited after he noticed the void eating away at his equipment.

He stood in front of the finished circle barely a minute later, his back straight, one of his arms raised at a forty-five-degree angle and bent at the elbow, with fingers splayed wide open. And then he pushed at the air, reciting:

“I seek but a Reprieve, a safe spot for a while. Grant me that wish, send down your weave, and protect from the Vile.”

That enormous, scarred hand of golden power descended, seemingly from the heavens themselves. Its eight four-jointed digits acted as pillars, each ending in a nail of supreme ethereal sharpness, the palm playing the role of an overhead dome. Overall, it created something akin to a gazebo, allowing the team to see in all directions and providing them with complete protection, thanks to the deployment of the essence construct’s barriers.

With the summoning done, the members entered the area of influence of his ability. Everyone reacted in the same manner, as if a great pressure that weighed on them previously got magicked away, letting them breathe in full for the first time since they departed from the city of Virsha.

Every Practitioner held powers granting them personalized defense against the darkness, like his [Sentinel’s Embrace], for to not have such means equaled death in those eldritch lands of their birth. Nevertheless, there was something special about having a roof over one’s head, a feeling of safety unmatched by any other.

Xerion suspected it to stem from the existence of the golden domes, the very thing that kept them safe through the earliest years of their lives. He had not a clue as to how to prove or disprove his conjecture, but the hypothesis seemed solid.

A couple of hours passed as the team set up its temporary accommodations. Few brought out entire tents – Nadia was always prepared – while some, like Philip, had nothing.

The boy was content with his tiny bedroll. That, plus he knew of a pile of fluff ready and hoping to be hugged all throughout the night.

Preparations for sleep completed, everyone sat next to each other and started talking. They began by discussing their day, how the journey went and what should they have done differently during the encounter with the canine Fiend pack. Then their conversations drifted, five mouths speaking at once and creating a mess, but one filled with friendly banter.

At some point, Xerion asked for advice on what to do with those humongous amounts of essence he generated and continued to generate during his stay in the Void Lands.

Nadia blushed at the question, and the young Practitioner remembered this moment very clearly as since then, Duene began to look at her paramour with a positively predatory glint in her eyes.

After witnessing that curious exchange, his mentor explained to him a simple essence exercise, one which led to him acquiring a new ability. As he read its title, he understood the reason for his teacher’s embarrassment – she definitely should’ve taught this to him earlier.

[Conceptual Essence Coinage] (Novice) (Rank 1)

An innate essence ability, available to those who cultivate concept-based methods.

Conceptual Essence Coinage allows a Practitioner to summon and form essence into a stable form, regardless of their Rank. Those constructs can then be carried with the Practitioner to be: reabsorbed at a later date, used as an energy source, or utilized in a number of other similar ways.

The density of the created constructs, the quantity possible to be produced at once, and the speed of their creation are all largely dependent on the ability’s grade and the user’s power.

It was fascinating, and so he tried it out instantly. His hands rose, their movements controlled by the technique itself. His palms touched and formed a shape akin to that of a chalice. Then his heart thumped, a large stream of energy flowing from it and up his arms.

His fingers started to tingle as thin lines of gold emerged from each of their tips. They crisscrossed in the center, entwining together, and ever so slowly formed a thing greater than the sum of its parts.

It took about ten minutes for the construct to stabilize, and once it did, the boy was left with a quarter-of-a-thumb thick coin. Two separate vertical dashes were carved upon its surface, with the number “1” right below them.

Neat.

Curious and wanting to try out a few more ideas, he intended to dive back into experimentation, but a new arrival made him leave that for later.

Vaikus plopped down next to him, the ground faintly trembling after the meeting between his bum and the earth. The man still wore that full plate armor, and the young Practitioner was beginning to wonder whether he’d ever have an opportunity to see the giant in casual clothing.

Hmmm. Would he even want to, though? That majestic beard required its bearer to always don equipment of the shiniest sort, no other way around that.

His team member tilted his head by a fraction, asking for his attention. Xerion gave it gladly.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Vaikus’ eyes indicated the entire [Reprieve from the Vile] space, stopping at Nadia’s and Duene’s accommodations. The boy followed that gaze, noticing in the process that the two women were nowhere to be seen, yet the still-moving tent flap spoke volumes of where they’d gone.

“I don’t get it,” he told the giant.

The man raised three armored fingers in response, then rubbed them together, producing soft clinking sounds. His face held a quality Xerion saw only once, in the not-too-distant past – after climbing back to the top of the wall, when this grandfatherly figure was collecting pouches filled with coin.

“You want to make a bet with me? Seriously?” he said in a deadpan tone.

Vaikus nodded. He pointed at the tent of Xerion’s teacher, then rolled his eyes in a way that a very peculiar image immediately sprung to the boy’s mind.

“What?! No! I’m not betting with you on that!”

The giant tilted his head.

“I said no! Neither today nor in the future! Go away.”

The breathing mountain clad in plate stood up and did so, leaving Xerion bombarded by thoughts he’d rather exorcise out of his brain. Preferably even burn them out of his memories.

Another voice reached his ears. “He asked you to gamble with him, right?”

“…Yup.”

“Yeah, he’s got a bit of a problem with that,” Philip said, then fell silent for over a minute before speaking again. “What did he want to gamble on?”

The boy pondered whether to share what Vaikus proposed, aware that keeping his mouth shut might’ve been the smart option, yet the man’s gesture painted such an indecent picture, he couldn’t help but blurt it out.

“He wanted to bet that—” he said and stopped, continuing in a hushed whisper. “He wanted to bet that the two of them are going to have sex tonight.”

“Oh,” Philip replied, then snorted with laughter. “He almost got you there. Good thing you didn’t go for it. That pair is always shagging.”

Oh, for the love of the Empyrean, why wouldn’t this day just end already?!