"So, turns out a warmaster who wasn't born in your clan can never master the art of stone manipulation? Just like the Sansas' control of poison or acid?" Stas asked the question that had been bothering him.
The earthling's imagination was short-circuiting as he envisioned himself casting fire from his hands or compelling the earth to transform at his will.
Stas suddenly imagined how insanely rich warmasters could become if they directed their talents toward peaceful endeavors. Excavating foundations in seconds, driving piles with a snap of a finger, mixing and instantly pouring concrete into forms they crafted in the blink of an eye.
Of course, there were still hundreds, if not thousands, of years of development ahead - both technological and cultural. One can't just hand over ready-made technologies to savages and expect anything good to come of it.
"Not exactly," the prince was clearly tired of talking, and it was evident that these were his final answers. "Some elements are much easier to learn, and a clanless can show acceptable results. This is the legendary circle of elements - water, fire, earth, and wind. Any person can master at least a bit of any of these. The only question is how much time they will spend on it. If a warmaster from the Sumada clan takes a couple of months to master the simplest earth technique, someone without such a strong affinity with earth might struggle for half a year."
"And what about the elements of acid or poison?" the earthling clarified.
"Well, here, it all depends directly on lineage. If, as I said earlier, a Sansa clan member can master something simple in a couple of months, an outsider might spend not half a year, as is the case with earth, but a year or even several years. Or they might not succeed at all. It's incredibly difficult to master any element that's not part of the legendary circle."
Stas pondered deeply, analyzing the information received. The prince's words revealed a vast chasm between the clans and the smaller families.
Not only did clan warmasters initially receive better education and training thanks to their clan's secrets, collected over generations, but they also had damn lineages that allowed young clan members to master elemental control ten times faster with almost no effort.
The only chance for clanless warmasters to break out of this closed loop was to be born with an inherently strong prana core. Through training, such an anomaly could defeat their opponents with sheer power alone.
And with time, if they survived, they could learn a sufficient number of elemental techniques.
"It's not all that bad," the prince's reassuring voice interrupted Stas's gloomy thoughts. The contrast was so striking that Ordyntsev looked at the youth with disbelief.
"What's with that look?" chuckled the prince, carefully scratching a healing scar on his arm. "No matter what they say about us, we, the Sumada, always pay our debts. I've noticed that you, Shiro, haven't mentioned this point once."
The youth laughed softly.
"We made a deal, but I'll help you not only because of that but also because you saved my life."
Stas remained silent, listening.
"I'm sure you know what people say about us. 'Warmasters have no honor,' 'they show no mercy or pity.' These words are partly true, but only partly. I know enough about medicine to understand that without your help, my recovery would have been difficult."
"Difficult?" Stas couldn't hold back. "You wouldn't have lasted another day. I'm surprised you managed to live that long."
"Credit my regeneration," the prince smirked. "It's pulled me out of trouble many times."
"By the way," Ordyntsev inquired with interest. "Do all warmasters have such regeneration?"
"Ha-ha-ha!" Jishin laughed loudly, clutching his operated stomach. "No, of course not. That's a lineage trait of the Sumada clan, or rather, just the main branch."
"The main branch?"
"The strongest members of the clan are brought into the main branch so that the blood in the next generations does not lose its properties. The rest remain in the side branches. And, as far as I know, a few other clans boast strong regeneration, but it's still a rare gift."
"I see," Stas said irritably.
"Already trying on these abilities for yourself?" Jishin nodded understandingly. "Don't worry, if we manage to get out of this, I'll do everything possible to ensure you can become a warmaster. Even if the weakest one," he added, prompting Stas to give him a look full of ominous promise, reigniting the desire to poke the prince's wounds once more with his fingers.
"So, you mentioned help," Stas steered the conversation back on track.
"Yes," the prince nodded. "You should know that every person has a different affinity with the legendary circle of elements. This means you could be utterly mediocre with water, fire, and air, but earth could come to you much faster and with less energy expenditure."
"So, like a weak lineage?" Ordyntsev found a fitting example.
"Yes. There are opinions that true lineages originated from something similar."
"I have a couple more questions," Stas decided to continue, but the prince shook his head.
"I'm too tired of these conversations. One more question, and that's it."
The earthling grimaced. Dozens of questions swarmed in his mind, and choosing the most important was almost torture.
"How do I start developing my prana core? What needs to be done?" Ordyntsev finally decided.
"You must feel this energy within yourself," Jishin replied immediately, as if repeating someone else's words. "Sense how it flows in every muscle and converges towards the heart. Feel its pulse along with the blood flow. And when you finally feel it and can summon this sensation as easily as you breathe now, then you'll be ready for your first training."
"Any tips?"
"Meditate," came the immediate indifferent response.
"And ho…"
"I don't care," the prince cut him off. "I've already answered more than I intended. Now leave me, I want to be alone."
"As you wish, prince," Stas replied calmly, though he was raging inside. Fortunately, no one forbade him from trying again later. They still had time.
Leaving the tent, Stas headed to the nearest river, where the servants usually fetched water.
Ordyntsev tried to choose a spot as secluded as possible so that he wouldn't be too distracted. He suspected that meditation wouldn't come easily to him.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Stas had always been skeptical of all these yogas, spiritual practices, and other charlatanry designed to milk people for guru visits and purchases of useless "magical" trinkets.
Meditation inevitably fell into the same category, leaving his knowledge in this area quite fragmented.
Ironically, he now had to take it seriously.
With him, Stas also brought Levi, allowing her to slither around. If he would have previously worried she might get lost, now he didn't. Leviathan demonstrated too intelligent behavior to get lost out of stupidity.
The spot for meditation Stas found was surprisingly beautiful. A young tree had grown right on the riverbank, where the stream had eroded the soil under the roots, creating a small slope.
This allowed Stas to lower his legs from this mini cliff while also leaning his back against the tree.
Below, water babbled quietly, and in the tree canopy, some small birds chirped merrily, either scolding in their language or rejoicing in life.
A small smile appeared on Stas's face, making his perpetually tense expression relax a bit, and the wrinkles between his brows smooth out slightly.
In fact, arriving in a new world only exacerbated his already somber mood.
Just a few months before all these events, Stas was abruptly dumped by his girlfriend.
The problem wasn't that he was, as they say, a deadbeat. Not at all. He had more than enough money in his bank account to make the first mortgage payment, and he was saving only to reduce the subsequent predatory interest rate.
In addition, his surgical skills were in high demand, and his work was going well.
The issue turned out to be that Stas spent too much time on his job. With the start of quarantine, he only came home to sleep. Needless to say, tired and overworked, he couldn't even spend an hour with his girlfriend.
As if that wasn't enough, his chosen one couldn't help but think that she was living with a man who was constantly in contact with infected people. You inevitably start thinking only about yourself when death toll lists from the epidemic start booming everywhere.
And one day, returning late to their rented apartment, Stas found that his ex's things were gone. Only a modest, carelessly torn page lay on the kitchen table with scrawled words that she could no longer go on like this.
Stas's calm nature took the blow well, but his colleagues couldn't help noticing his mood worsening and his sociability decreasing even further.
Maybe that's why Stas inadvertently grew so attached to his snake, since his ex couldn't stand her and constantly hinted that the animal should be given to some kind of snake-breeding facility.
The fact that such places only keep venomous snakes to collect their venom was something she absolutely did not want to hear.
Stas forced himself to toss the traitor out of his mind. In passing, he involuntarily thought that his "chosen one" was probably more of a snake than his Leviathan.
The babbling of the stream beneath his feet once again put him in a good mood.
Stas didn't try to fold his hands or cross his legs like a yogi, as these gestures might attract unwanted attention.
Instead, he simply relaxed, leaned back on the warm, rough trunk of the tree, and let his mind drift aimlessly in this warm bliss.
He tried to cast out all his worries and fears, problems and dangers. To leave only calmness and relaxation.
This wasn't as easy to do as it might seem. Ordyntsev was used to always thinking, and doing the exact opposite took him a long time.
The babbling stream, the rustle of the wind in the leaves, the sun's rays washing over his skin - all gradually surrounded his mind with a wall insurmountable to problems, uniting him with the world around him.
When he finally found this state, Stas decided to attempt to feel the prana itself.
But it was easier said than done.
Where should he start? How to feel something he had no idea about?
After a bit of thought, a solution was found. The prince said that prana gathered at the heart, confirmed by the dissection and the pale threads leading towards the sternum.
And if the core was located in the heart, then Stas was going to use that.
Unbuttoning his kimono, the man placed his right hand on his chest, feeling his own heartbeat.
Thump - one. Thump - two.
His heart beat steadily, pumping blood and saturating the body with oxygen. Somewhere there, prana flowed too.
Ordyntsev pushed away the thought that he might not have any. The monstrous pain after appearing in this world was impossible to forget. What was that, if not the growth of the prana channels throughout his body?
*****
Leviathan smoothly slid to the ground when her master decided to rest in the tree's shade. The snake, unlike him, was eager to bask in the sun.
Her changed eyes saw the world much more clearly, and the increased coherence of her thoughts pushed her to explore such a large and uncharted world.
Of course, instincts whispered their opinion on certain things. For example, they told Levi that the master, being a large biped, could be dangerous to her, so she shouldn't trust him.
But the snake knew that silly instincts understood nothing. How could the senior be dangerous if he was the senior?
Silly, silly instincts.
The fresh, ever-changing water flowing below awakened vague memories in Levi. It was as if her ancestors once lived in similar conditions. Or was it just her imagination?
In any case, the little reptile purposefully crawled toward the water.
And halfway there, she smelled it!
The scent of sweet, delicious mice intoxicated and exhilarated her. Of course, the senior had fed her recently, but her body, for some reason, demanded more.
Leviathan, following her instincts, pressed closer to the ground and then, quietly rustling her scales, followed the scent trail.
The grass softly enveloped her, hiding the curves of her white scales.
But just as the snake was about to pounce on such tempting prey, the grass suddenly exploded with streams of a black body!
Leviathan abruptly raised her head, assuming a defensive position.
Who dared to attack her?! What if he dared to attack her master while he was resting?!
The menacingly squinting snake scrutinized her opponent.
A glossy black viper, judging by its size, was almost three times larger than Levi.
Hissing threateningly, the black rings began to move towards the tense Leviathan.
"Sha-sha-shsh-sha!" which translated to "Back off, or you'll be eaten."
The viper, sensing its advantage, dared to threaten her!
"SHA-SH-SHA!" which roughly translated to "I'll eat you myself!" The enraged Leviathan furiously launched an attack on the stunned adversary.
Huge muscles jerked, trying to crush the white shadow, but only helplessly slid off the tip of her tail.
Levi herself deftly circled the viper's maw and, after wrapping the bottom of its head a couple of times, forcefully plunged her fangs straight into the viper's skull.
"SH-SH-SH-SH!!!" which translated to "Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah! Get off me!!!" The viper started banging its head against the ground, trying to throw off such a terrifying white snake.
But as it turned out, this was not easy. The blows to the ground were easily ignored by the white monster, only tightening her deadly grip even more.
There was a quiet crunch as Leviathan's fangs pierced the skull, hitting the brain and nerves of the prey.
And as if that wasn't enough, venom flowed from her fangs inside, causing the muscles of the killed snake to contract slower and slower with each second.
Curiously, Leviathan's species never had venomous fangs originally.
Levi disdainfully spat out her catch. It was too big for her, and besides, not tasty.
Her targets were the appetizing mice that were now quite close.
The hunt went well. The snake's belly was again pleasantly full, and at some point, she decided to return. The senior had been smelling of sadness lately, so Levi, as a good snake, decided to bring him one of the delicious mice.
To carry the prey in her mouth and not eat it was very difficult, but Leviathan held on. For her master, she would be strong and not swallow such a tasty and intoxicatingly smelling mouse...
After that, Levi spent a whole five minutes trying to regurgitate the instinctively swallowed "gift."
It was hard to push the mouse out the throat, but Levi tried. Unthinkable, she had eaten the catch intended for the master!
The little snake even feared to imagine the senior's anger when he would discover her mistake. Of course, he had never been angry at her, but this did not prevent Leviathan from reflecting on such a possibility.
Finally, the slimy, dirt- and saliva-covered mouse fell back onto the grass, and Leviathan grimly surveyed it with a disdainful gaze.
It was all her prey's fault! Why was it born so tasty?
Levi was afraid to take it back into her mouth, as the same thing could happen again.
She needed to find some other way.
Leviathan thoughtfully circled the mouse a couple of times.
How do you move it without taking it into the mouth? A very difficult task for someone with a brain smaller than a walnut.
Eureka!
The snake happily wrapped the tip of her tail around the mouse and then tried to crawl at least a meter as a test. And she succeeded!
Pleased with herself, Leviathan dragged her catch like on a string to the memorable tree.
The senior was found in the same place. This time, he smelled much better. Sadness and anger were almost gone, replaced by calmness and even a little joy.
Leviathan was determined to enhance these feelings. Crawling up close, she carefully began to clamber onto her rightful place on his knees, dragging the mouse corpse along with her.
Doing so was not easy, but she managed.
Leviathan proudly surveyed the slimy mouse, covered in dirt and small grass blades, which lay proudly on the grayish fabric of the kimono. Though, the fabric had been gray before, and now, soaked with dirt and snake stomach juice, it took on a slightly different color.
Leviathan puffed up proudly, seemingly becoming one and a half times larger. When the senior came to his senses, he would be very, very pleased with his diligent Leviathan.
And there would be lots of warm petting.
Levi was sure of this.