I let out a tired sigh, leaning backward in my chair as I closed a small book's cover. I rubbed my left hand out of habit, used to feeling cramps after hours of constant writing even though my strengthened body was no longer so feeble. It was strange how patterns might remain even if what caused them had disappeared.
The title stared back at me, written in my small, neat handwriting. "Ruined Body Cultivation Method." Although I was not one for a dramatic flair, preferring simple to understand names and terms, I could not resist in this case. After all, it represented months of dedicated studies and experimentation, which called for a celebration. Ideally, I would not need to keep any notes or writings, but my memory was not perfect, and it was preferable to refer to past experiments.
Over the past three months, I spent several hundred hours combing over muscle, bone, and blood samples, carefully examining every inch to find out how mana bound to it. I had purchased from a dozen different species in differing stages of growth, all to understand. Although I had theorized about the changes before, the truth was that I needed extensive examinations to draw any sort of conclusions.
Thankfully, through my studies, I had begun to understand the process better than ever before.
When I was flooded with mana through Cortos' array, my body was being quite literally broken down and rebuilt using power from the ley line below. Typically, the energy would simply speed and strengthen the natural healing process, simulating training. However, the method I discovered saturated my body with so much mana that it replaced more natural elements in the process. The closest analog I could find was how steel was created by merging iron with charcoal, producing a more robust end material.
In magic beasts, their different biologies allowed them to passively experience these improvements. I knew from my studies that they lacked mana cores, containing mana inside their flesh and blood instead. Due to this, as they grew, and their bodies naturally wore under daily stresses, this mana was absorbed to empower their forms.
Because I possessed a core, I needed to find ways to continually flood my body with a high enough concentration of mana to accomplish the same thing. Assuming, of course, that my experiment today verified my hypothesis.
Grabbing my knife, I paused for a moment before I cut my right hand deeply, watching as blood welled up from the slice, forming a pool in my palm. I winced for an instant, before pulling on my mana and forcing it down my arm, centered around the cut. Placing the knife on a side table, I grabbed a weak healing potion and drank it in one mouthful, feeling a familiar itching in my hand after a moment.
While I watched, the skin knitted together after a few seconds, forming unbroken flesh. Picking back up my knife, I repeated the process again, observing my skin bleed and heal in quick succession. Again and again, I repeated, counting ten, then twenty and then thirty times, watching blood dripping from my cupped palm and onto the stone floor. All the while, I scanned my body with my mana senses, carefully watching for any changes.
On the forty-second cut, I finally found the first noticeable change to my hand. It was impossible to say how much mana had been absorbed, but the volume was definitely lower than I recalled. And a closer examination revealed that my skin had begun secreting the same black fluid I usually saw after using Cortos' array. It was only the tiniest flecks of impurities, but it was enough to verify my ideas.
I felt a massive smile come across my face, and I had to resist the urge to shout in triumph.
Now that I had confirmed that I could refine my body through a cycle of damage and repair, I could continue to develop my technique. Unfortunately, Aether mana was poorly suited for healing magic, and even Cortos' array was only able to accomplish the effect due to its sophisticated nature and near-limitless power supply. Without external healing, my method would be limited to my natural healing speed.
Still, I placed my hand on the cover with a satisfied grin on my face. It was slow, inefficient, flawed, and filled with likely misunderstandings of the process, but it represented what I felt was a significant step in my journey as a mage. It was my technique, not stolen from another mage, inherited from parents, or learned from a master, but built through my own understanding of magic.
I had an idea of modifications to Iron Forging that should let me flood my form with enough mana that natural healing could slowly refine my body, even as I go about my daily life. Although it would be a fraction of the speed as using potions and the array, it would be free and yield results over time. And nothing was stopping me from using both methods in combination, though that did bring up an intriguing point.
Right now, the technique would only let me force out the useless or weak parts of my form, essentially just making me better, but over time, it would slowly transform my body into something else entirely. Briefly, I had wondered if the process would make me into someone unrecognizable and if I would remain human. After all, if my body was rebuilt entirely using mana, what kept me human in the end?
The notion was entertaining to consider from a clinical perspective, but I discarded it as useless at this point. That was still years away, and it did not matter much either way. I needed power, and this was the most direct path to gain it. If that meant potentially sacrificing my humanity, it was worth it.
Fortuna's mental touch drew me from my musings, and I glanced over to see the black cat standing a few steps away.
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Why are you bothering to help those others win this silly tournament? You and I both know you should not waste your time assisting others in growing as mages. A real Archon concerns himself only with his own might and leaves others to their fate.
"They are my friends. Should I not help them?" I asked, feeling a stab of defensive anger at his words.
No. Your friends must strive to improve their lives and succeed or fail without your help. If you solve their struggles for them, you only weaken them in the long run. And you put yourself in danger in the process. I chose you because I felt you had the potential to rise above your station, and now you threaten to let yourself be dragged back down to mediocrity.
Fortuna had occasionally shown flashes of a cold, detached personality, and I had to remind myself again that he was not a human, though he might act like one at times. He was a beast, used to the uncaring, life or death society of the wilds, and in his world, compassion would lead to your death.
"If it will set your mind at ease, I have my own selfish reasons as well. Every member of a winning team earns a reward, and I could leverage my assistance to keep some sort of reward for myself. And besides, studying other mages up close will let me develop my own spells. I suspect Cortos would agree that learning from other mages helps your own skills grow sharper." I retorted, not bothering to listen to his reply. I had things to finish, and listening to Fortuna's accusations was a waste of time.
I made my way to Leon's room, which served as a private meeting space for our team. We had made it a habit of meeting every few days to review training exercises and preparations.
"Vayne, why don't you start us off?" Leon said, waving a hand at me.
I nodded, standing and opening my packet of papers to the first page.
"Traditionally, there are at least three challenges, though they have had as many as six in past years. At least one is always a combat challenge, which is easy enough to prepare for, relative to the rest. In fourteen of the last twenty years, there has also been a survival test of some kind, where teams need to survive extended periods without being severely injured, or accomplish some sort of task."
Leon coughed quietly, asking, "It says here they use a pocket dimension for those challenges. What do you mean?"
"Much like the Academy uses spatial distortion magic to drastically increase its classroom, hall, and dormitory sizes. Several masters prepare a similar space so that apprentices can have sufficient space to fight without damaging Volaris, all within a controlled environment."
Simon nodded earnestly, saying, "It's an incredible piece of magic. They link the effect to the ley lines running under Volaris and use it to sustain the spell. I would love to look at the diagram and figure out how they can adequately direct all of that raw power without damaging it. I bet they use a volumetrically limited array with an auxiliary overflow pool and-"
He seemed to notice the stares from the rest of us, and Simon trailed off, blushing brightly and muttering an apology. Leon and Amelia both chuckled, and I thought I might have even caught the faintest grin from Sophia.
"As I was saying, these spaces are often specially prepared with constructs patterned on real magic beasts, bizarre weather, and strange day and night cycles. In one tournament eight years ago, it was modified to have days that lasted forty hours while nights only spanned around five. We will need to prepare several spells to provide us with shelter, purified water, food, and an ability to scout and map surroundings." I continued, looking around the room.
Leon stepped forward, saying, "So, do we have any volunteers for these spells?"
I spoke up, replying, "Actually sir, I think I should take care of most of the utility spells."
When Leon raised an eyebrow at me, I continued, "You four will be responsible for combat magic, and I think you should reserve as much mana as possible for that. The water spells Simon will need to perform, and there are a few other elemental spells outside of my expertise. Besides those, the scouting spells and defensive magic should be my responsibility. At least this way, my mana can serve a purpose instead of sitting inside my core useless."
Leon looked around the group, saying, "Any objections? Alright, excellent. Next up, general preparations for challenges. Vayne, I'll give you the floor again."
"Although our combat skills are improving, there are some challenges we much more difficult to prepare for. If you flip to the next page, we can look at subjects to study, in case of more academic challenges."
The rest of our meeting passed without incident, and after we left, I returned to my bedroom. Preparations were all well and good, but there was no chance I was the first to think of that tactic. In fact, I was sure that other teams were already as well prepared as us, maybe more. We needed to leverage every advantage possible, and that led me to the sort of tactic that most nobles would despise.
Misinformation.
It went against nearly every tiresome notion of honor and fair play many nobles followed. The small class sizes for Espionage were testament to how few truly appreciated the sly cunning that won the day. However, I was not one for such concepts, and I knew better than most how dangerous they could prove.
Since the start of the semester, I had begun to socialize with other students outside of class. Leon had invited Simon and me along with him the first time, and I had jumped at the occasion. My polite, unassuming demeanor left most nobles unlikely to suspect me, and I made sure to purchase plenty of drinks for the other apprentices, taking advantage of their love of gossip.
Every conversation, I tried to sow rumors and information about my team into our talks. I made sure to limit it to what appeared as minor slip-ups. Comments about spells, or weapon choice, accidentally mentioned in conversations.
More importantly, I tried to interact with separate groups and provide each with different pieces of information. Nobles loved to gossip, and hopefully, the conflicting rumors would sow confusion among our rivals and leave our true abilities relatively unknown.
And of course, I also kept an ear out, listening for every bit of information possible. There was a chance that another team was employing the same tactic as me, but I somewhat doubted it. Many nobles, such as Leon, had an antiquated sense of morals and chivalry that left those sorts of tactics unthinkable. Even Girem often voiced disdain, believing that trickery was useful only for criminals and men's lowest.
I personally felt those sorts of ideas were useless and idiotic, to put it lightly. Winning was not done fairly, but through cunning and the fortitude to do what was needed. Glory was the prize for fools, of no use in the real world.
Stretching my back, I grabbed my sword-staff from the nearby desk and glanced at the window in my room, noting that there were several hours in the day still. There were around two months until the tournament began, and I had no intention of being left behind.