CHAPTER 8: DEMONIC BLADE (1/2)

Waking up in the darkness, I lay still with my eyes closed for a while. But realizing I didn't want to go back to sleep, I leisurely changed from my pajamas into my uniform, groomed myself, fastened my scabbard to my belt, and tossed my toiletries into my shoulder bag before heading outside.

"It's all good," I said quietly, stumbling upon Natal's half-opened eye. "I'm going to wash up."

The blonde guy silently closed his eyes and promptly fell back asleep.

I hardly encountered any people, except for the drowsy sentries. It was too early for the hustle and bustle around the sinks and toilets. Convenient.

After finishing my morning routines, I stepped away from the camp, deciding to spend some of my free time doing exercises. But first, I had to deal with something else. Retrieving a hidden tablet of stimulant narcotic from one of my concealed pockets, I broke off slightly more than a third of it. I put the smaller piece back and swallowed the larger one, washing it down with water from my canteen. Since I had the opportunity, it was worth investigating how this poison affected spiritual and life force. Tossing my bag on the ground and sitting on top of it, I delved into meditation.

Focusing my attention, I "saw" how my body, seemingly pushed from the outside (although why seemingly?), began to produce more prana and accelerate its flow. I understood from the influx of knowledge/images that this was happening unevenly, inefficiently, and with a bunch of side effects. The skill of extrasensory perception was far from simple and allowed not only "seeing" but also to some extent, understanding. However, as I suspected, the power of insight had the most severe side effects. Careless use of it could very well kill me.

Life force felt rather vague, but it was sufficient for my current needs. The more I observed the stimulant's effects, the less I liked it. Even without the "inner eye's" guidance, it was easy to deduce that an accelerated life force production would deplete it more quickly!

"Use our drugs, and you'll look like a hundred! Not reaching even twenty."

It was also not hard to understand that once accustomed to doping, my body would refuse to function properly without it. The human body could be quite a lazy bastard. Without drugs, I could weaken even more than I feared. I just had to hope that during our voyage, I would somewhat recover, and our reconnaissance wouldn't fail, and the execution of the mission wouldn't encounter significant surprises. But vague doubts tormented me, suggesting that the assassination of the governor, the head of the regional garrison, and the eradication of the southern clan of assassins, who had settled nearby, wouldn't go as smoothly as one might hope.

And why would that be?

"Nice," I said irritably, twitching my cheek, waiting for the peak of unpleasant sensations to pass.

After resting, I started my light warm-up and training routine. Simultaneously, I tried to focus on the current energy flow within my body. Since I had become quite a decent sensor, I needed to fully utilize this capability. I was curious if I could achieve better efficiency in acceleration, strengthening, and enhancement with the same or fewer energy expenditures. It wasn't going very well, but I could indeed feel some roughness in the energy flows. These were the ones I was trying to rectify.

The training turned out to be not only beneficial but also enjoyable. Having the memory of a person who had ended his life as a half-dead wreck, feeling the current strength coursing through my veins was fantastically pleasant. Despite the side effects, the "spiritual eye" was working very intriguingly, allowing me to feel like a true mage-explorer—not less than the ancient alchemists.

Having completed my training, I headed back to the camp.

It was time for tea. And, of course, cookies!

"Hello, folks!" I addressed two mercenaries sitting by the simmering cauldron over the fire. "Mind sharing some boiling water?"

"When it starts boiling, we'll pour some," one of them replied with a drowsy and melancholic tone, not even bothering to turn around. The other one, it seemed, didn't hear me and continued to stare at the water, which had just begun to bubble.

After pouring myself some boiling water and as a token of gratitude, dishing out some good tea from my supplies for the sentries, I stepped away from the drowsy watchmen. Sitting on a log next to the long-extinguished campfire, I watched the bustling activity unfold while munching on delicious snacks. In the east, a faint light was just beginning to appear, and the camp was already coming to life. Yawning people were leaving their sleeping spots, determinedly going about their business. Here and there, muffled curses from the cooks, the clatter of cauldrons, and the neighing of horses from the pen could be heard. As expected, the excitement surrounding my "heroism" quickly faded, and if anyone did glance my way, it was just a passing glance.

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Returning to our carriage, I didn't enter the "realm of slumber" and instead opted to hop on the roof. Up there, I laid on my back, using my bag as a pillow, and intended to continue exploring myself, the teigu, and the surroundings with my newfound ability.

"As the wise Jedi used to say, 'If you don't know what to do, meditate,'" I thought ironically. "It's useful for us, Dark Side adepts, as well."

Glancing at my sleeping comrades with my "third eye," I noted that the spiritual energy flowed slightly differently in their sleep. It was a pity that I could only see life energy within myself; it would be interesting to see how it fared with others. Another intriguing question was whether I could learn to "vampire" prana without a special teigu. Such a skill would be extremely useful in my circumstances, but how to approach it remained unclear.

Deciding to focus on something more comprehensible, I shifted my attention to Yatsufusa, or rather, our connection.

Yesterday, I had noticed that even when the sword was nearby or hanging from my belt, there was still an exchange of energy between us, albeit weak. Nothing surprising about that. If an artifact had a connection with puppets, why not have a similar connection with its owner? Carefully, trying not to exert myself more than necessary, I concentrated on this connection and attempted to expand the channel of exchange. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I finally managed to find the right state and increase the flow of spiritual particles. Once I took the right first step, the teigu responded to the owner's desire. The connection was filled with energy and became brighter.

"Fascinating," I thought, studying what it represented. It felt like a piece of the teigu's essence had been attached to my spiritual shell, roughly corresponding to the center of my chest, and vice versa; an energy exchange was occurring between these particles. "I'll need to experiment with this later, but for now, it's time to exit meditation and check how I'm feeling. It seems I got carried away again."

The material world predictably greeted me with a headache and disorientation. Fortunately, they weren't as severe, and mostly faded after I rested for a bit with my eyes closed.

Could it be that my body was starting to get used to it? That would be nice. However, it seemed like I would have to put meditation on hold for now. Yesterday had shown that fatigue from my exercises accumulated, and a short half-hour rest didn't help me recover. I needed at least a couple of hours of rest.

Akira's voice, who had sent the poor guys outside so they wouldn't peek at the shy girl, signaled breakfast and put an end to my contemplations.

After the meal, having obtained one of Kei Lee's favorite manga volumes, I settled by the window and began delving into the adventures of the fictional characters. Since I couldn't occupy myself with anything useful, why not familiarize myself with the imperial variation of "adult pictures"? It was curious to see how they differed from Earth's.

I must say, the guy was very surprised by my request to select something with a plot from his collection. However, he quickly regained his composure and, chuckling, handed me a thick softcover book with a green-haired guy wielding a spear on the cover. He was surrounded by scantily clad beauties of all kinds.

"The Tale of the Spear Hero," I read on the cover.

The story unexpectedly drew me in. A scion of an ancient but impoverished clan, using his spear and "spear," defeated enemies and built a harem of warriors to contest the throne of his kingdom. The manga actually had artistic value beyond the detailed, lovingly drawn intimate scenes. The erotic elements, aside from mild interest and aesthetic pleasure from gazing at beautiful women, didn't evoke any special emotions in me. Apparently, I was asexual enough not to get aroused by pictures. In any case, I enjoyed immersing myself in the world created by an unknown author, ignoring Kei's sarcastic remarks, which clearly expected a different reaction to the literature he had provided.

Soon, the caravan began moving again, and our joker and primary source of noise went on patrol. The cabin fell silent. Akiro was flipping through some women's magazine, Natal, after yesterday's conversation, was sitting quietly and thoughtfully, and Babe was always a man of few words.

After several hours, I set the manga aside. My body had recovered, which meant I could resume my meditations.

"Heh, now the phrase 'taste my spear' will never be the same," I chuckled and looked around. Natal was on patrol, Kei Lee and Akiro, as usual, were arguing about something, and Babe, with a look of dissatisfaction on his face, was focused on carefully carving out the figure of another dragon.

It seemed that this lord of the skies would also be transformed into wood shavings.

"Ugh, Kurome, how can you read this garbage?" Akiro expressed her "eww," breaking away from Kei Lee.

"Why do you call it garbage? It's quite an intriguing thing, although it could have had less pornography," I admitted. Toward the end, the excess of intimate scenes started to irritate me, and I skipped through them.

"Ha! You see, Spark, even other girls read erotic manga and don't scream that it's garbage and perversion," the joker said joyfully. "Welcome to the club of high literature enthusiasts, Kurome-chi," he winked. "You can call me 'senpai.'"

"I'd rather you trained with the same enthusiasm. Senpai."

"I am, by the way, the third-ranked on the List," the brunette said, raising his index finger to the ceiling in a didactic tone. "And I diligently train at the Base. Training on the road is inconvenient and ineffective," Kei said, stroking an imaginary beard in a sage-like manner.

"Maybe you're right," I shrugged, "but sometimes even a thousandth of a second can separate life from death. Besides, we won't have anything to do in the evening. Why not spend the free time on self-improvement?"

"You're speaking just like Master John," Kei grinned. "All that's left is to dye your hair red, grow one and a half times taller and three times wider. Then you can replace the new head instructor and take his place," the guy smirked. "We'll call you Kurome-sensei!"

"It's high time to get rid of that so-called 'head instructor' and his gang," I grumbled darkly. What could lazy weaklings who were afraid of us themselves teach us? I could easily cut this bunch of nobodies without my marionettes and stimulants!

Fortunately, the team from the previous instructor had given the guys a good foundation for independent development, and those who wanted could train on their own. It wasn't as effective as being supervised by competent mentors like my disliked Gozuki, but the leadership didn't care. It was much easier to accuse subordinates of weakness compared to the Seven than to hire a competent Battle Master and his team for a small (awful lot) amount of money.

Sitting closer to the wall, I prepared for a new series of meditations and asked not to distract me from trying to figure out the teigu.

"Don't you already know how to use it?" Akiro asked, surprised.

"If a peasant takes a sword in his hands and manages to swing it, does that mean he's become a skilled warrior?" I tilted my head, looking at the redhead with irony.

"Hehe, you're right. Didn't think of that," Akiro awkwardly scratched her nose. "Then I won't bother you."