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Reborn to Devour: A Demonic LitRPG
Chapter 101: Violent Inner Peace

Chapter 101: Violent Inner Peace

I left Grendel’s meditation room without the troll speaking another word to me. He was stunned into a silent stupor. The concept of another except for Senior Brother possessing the ability to commune with the Grand Master directly and offering a quest was too much for him to process. Centuries of stagnation create more violent ripples.

One wave from a student sweeping the footpaths was all I received upon my departure from the school’s gate. I am sure that Senior Brother knew I departed, but I was certain that he did not particularly care as long as I was away from him.

Without wasting time, I spread my wings and took to the skies. I soared far above the peak and looked down at the landscape below. I slowly circled around the mountain in wide loops to better understand the topography of the mountain.

A few ordinary monsters attempted to test my strength, allowing me a small appetizer before I continued onwards.

But, by the time that I rounded the base of the mountain, I saw no signs of a lake. No sign of any body of water larger than a stream.

I flew up, maintaining a slow upward trajectory to see if I had missed something crucial. But, my eyes spotted nothing out of the ordinary. Only a cloud that was slowly passing around the side of the mountain. The patch of land that was previously covered when I flew over the first time revealed nothing new.

I landed atop one of the streams that rolled down the sides of the mountain. I followed it upstream to, hopefully, find the source, only for it to suddenly disappear beneath my feet. I dug in the ground to only find dry dirt.

“Bullshit,” I muttered to myself.

I took the skies again to try to find any other signs, but there was nothing that even resembled a lake. I tried to find a pattern in the mountain that appeared to be a dry lakebed without success. I tried the neighboring mountains and found nothing but hostile little beasts to take my frustration out on.

Annoyed and having wasted several hours, I flew back to the original mountain to reevaluate.

I found a boulder to sit on and ponder the quest provided to me. It wasn’t going to be an easy task, I was not so presumptive as to believe that a quest from the Grand Master wasn't going to be difficult, but I did expect at least some sort of clue to identify.

That was the problem with those that sit in orange robes and preach of enlightenment, I supposed. If it wasn’t hidden under layers of riddles, then people would quickly discover how thin their words actually were. Live well, treat others with respect, don’t feel jealousy towards what others have, find fulfillment in yourself, and all the other phrases that media and gurus like to employ to appear wise through references and multi-syllable words.

But, it was undeniable that the Grand Master was strong. I couldn’t just throw these vague words aside as the same sort of pig spit that used to get spewed by crystal-ball wielding quacks that would show up on daytime television to help middle aged women reunite with their dead relatives. He could punch a mountain to pieces with mana.

Then, what was this lake that he spoke of? It existed somewhere on this mountainside, that much I was certain.

But could I be?

‘Mountainside’ is such a non-committal word now that I had given it more thought. Was it this mountain, a specific different mountain, or any mountain? It could be a lake depicted within something else. Senior Brother possessed unique artwork. Did any of those paintings or statues or porcelain teacups possess a lake on it?

It could be something intangible, some sort of connection to a spiritual lake. A lake of light or clouds or sound.

I sighed without a great epiphany and the rush of endorphins that often accompanies it. There was still the manner of finding without seeking. I had been beginning to assume that meant I had to find a lake without looking for a lake specifically. But, what if the act of looking for any lake at all was the crux of my problem?

But, if the act of looking for it took it further away from me, what was I meant to do?

I drummed my claws on the scaled ridge of my forehead and thought vigorously at my problem from every angle available. But, everything I thought of contained a component of active thought; some required interaction that would inevitably lead my mind back to thinking about the lake. It was like being told not to think of a chicken; of course you were going to think about the fucking chicken. There was no way around that mandatory reaction from the brain.

Though, if that meant that though was the roadblock, I would have to eliminate thought.

“Isn’t that what those fucks say about meditation?” I questioned all living beings around me.

No response.

Once, at the prison, there was a seminar on meditation as a way to manage anger. Most were volunteers but I was there under mandate after another fight ended violently.

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A pencil-armed man wearing a floral shirt and loose sweatpants sat in an uncomfortable cross-legged position in the yard on the other side of a metal fence. We were made to sit on mats set out in a semi-circle so he could see all of his.

I remembered what he said clearly.

“I’m sure you all find it funny that I am teaching the path of spiritual freedom to you who have their flesh imprisoned,” he said to a mixture of chuckles and scowls.

But, opening with a joke was enough to get most to start paying attention. For the rest, it was the way that he spoke as if there were no bars there. It felt almost as if he were trapped there with us.

I focused on the memory, skipping through his sad attempt to describe meditation as self-prayer to sway over his deeply southern audience. Pray to yourself to control your emotions. Pray to yourself to unlock the calm within you and to materialize the inner world that creates that calm. Jungles, mountains, beaches, a couch with friends; anything that evoked feelings that overrode thoughts of violence with nice thoughts.

My brow furrowed as I tried to remember the exchange I was looking for.

“Meditation isn’t mindlessness,” he eventually explained of his craft. “Even the greatest ascetics of our lifetimes have stray thoughts that ruin their path towards true enlightenment. You are allowed to have thoughts, even negative ones, but you must treat them as strangers. Greet your thoughts, allow them to move through your mind, and let them go.”

What a crock of shit. Telling a bunch of violent inmates that they are allowed to loosen the grip that they have on their minds. Only one of us actually bothered to take any of what he had said to heart. If anything, he grew more violent towards anyone that interfered with his “inner peace.”

But, at this point, I had no choice but to entertain the lesson. It wouldn’t lead me towards anything spiritually gratified, but it might cease the noise in my head long enough for an epiphany to crash into my skull.

As a show of my earnestness, I even twisted my legs into a pretzel to mimic the teacher. I interlocked my fingers and placed them on my lap. My eyes closed and I tried to make my mind a fortress from all thinking.

But, frustratingly, that required thought.

The sensation of the breeze blowing over the mountainside and rocks poking my ass made me think about those things. I could imagine somewhere better, more pleasant. Like a hammock or a bar. But, that didn’t really make my head feel empty and the thought of the lake tauntingly rose to the forefront.

It was an ugly centerpiece on the dining room table or inviting a homeless shelter to Thanksgiving. It demanded my attention. A skeptical part of my brain told me that I was wasting my time when I could be using logic to untangle this knot.

I welcomed this proposed stranger and invited them to pass through my home to the door in the back. The thought wandered in, tracking its muddy boots all over my nice fucking carpet before waiting at the door to be acknowledged.

“Leave!” I ordered.

But, providing attention to the thought, even negatively, only caused it to grow further. It became bigger and uglier. Pissing on my walls and wearing my Zen-like patience thin.

My eyes opened to a great deal of the same thing surrounding me. No lake, no nothing.

“Is it thoughtlessness you want?” I demanded the sky.

Predictably, as it often is with things like this, there was no response when you actually wanted it. My enlightenment was up to my own discretion. Grand Master would not hand it over to me, not even give me a hint to my proximity to the truth.

What the fuck was I doing?

If it was all up to me to find that enlightenment in my own way; walk my own path. Then I had to truly do it in my own way. Since when did I ever meditate to achieve something? If I couldn’t outsmart it, then I simply had to brute force my way through the problem.

I stuck out my thumb and flashed the broken fragment of my claw. There was little idea that it would work to bring me to the lake. But, it would definitely make the thinking stop.

“Let’s hope some opportunist doesn’t find me,” I joked.

I opened my [Hoard] and purged all my XP allotments that gave me health and armor and magic and put it all into Strength. It needed to do it in one blow and trigger [Too Angry to Die].

Two quick breaths cycled through my lungs to give me all the preparation that I needed. With all my force, I flung my thumb backwards into my own forehead. It pierced my weakened scales and pierced my brain.

It was like a light turned off. Time had passed in the darkness as my body repaired itself. I knew it. But, it felt more like I had teleported.

I regained consciousness as soon as I had lost it. The entire world was gray. Fog that toured around the side of the mountain for the entirety of the day had finally settled over me. The surroundings were buried behind the thick fog bank and my temperature lowered from the frigid moisture it carried inside it.

I moved my body to feel water cascade off my body. Quickly, I hopped to my feet. My shins were submerged in liquid that drained back into the ground.

The fog faded away to reveal a cave. Glowing quartz protruded out of the ceiling and wall to illuminate the insides. It was a perfect dome of stone that had no visible entrance to explain how I had reached this place.

I took a step towards the middle of the dome. My foot caused ripples to form on the floor of the cave even though I no longer felt the water.

image [https://i.imgur.com/Xl6KNrw.jpeg]

Quest

Untrodden Footsteps II

Through your own unique means, you managed to locate the lake that was identified for you. Now, you will face the strongest opponent that you are capable of facing. Develop a way to defeat them flawlessly. You will remain here until you do.

Reward: Nothing, for enlightenment cannot be promised. Only offered.

A great smile crossed my face. Now the Grand Master was using the appropriate words.

The pool bubbled beneath me as the strongest opponent I was able to face rose to the surface. I wondered who it was. Senior Brother? Charles? Maybe Vendetta? It could even be someone that I didn’t know.

A black figure floated up from the bottom of the pool. Slowly, their shape became clearer until they rested just beneath the surface.

I began to laugh in joy. Of course. There would be no more beautiful opponent than the one that the pool gave me. There was no one that knew me more intimately, no one that wished to test themselves against me, no one that wanted to kill me more than them.

Red eyes opened to try to inflict fear in my heart. A scaled fist broke through the surface with an explosion of water and climbed from the depths to face me.

“Hello, me.”