Steve was woken up by someone violently shaking him. It was like a bear was grabbing him by the shoulders.
“Hey, Steve. Wake up,” Keith hissed into Steve’s ear.
“Five more…” Steve mumbled lethargically, eyes still shut tight. It was still dark out, Steve could tell that much through his eyelids. Steve was a night owl and typically never rose before the sun. Keith had pulled Steve out of his deep slumber and given discomfort a chance to harass him. Steve slowly opened his eyes as Keith shook him, only to realize he was sleeping on the floor of the kitchen. Slowly, Steve peeled his drool-covered cheek off the hardwood floor.
“Fuckin’ headache,” Steve groaned. Who the hell got a hangover from root beer?
“It’s time to train,” Keith said with his Australian accent. Australian accent?
“You’re Australian?” Steve jerked up into a sitting position off the floor. His head and body ached, and he was awfully chilly.
“Yeah, mate. Sound American when I’m pissed though,” Keith said as he dragged Steve with one arm and forced him to stand. “Get ya swimmers on, we’re going for a dip,” Keith slapped Steve on the back, nearly knocking his wind out.
“What?” Without understanding the implications of Keith’s words, Steve left the kitchen and walked upstairs to get his swim shorts. The early morning sky was still a deep purple, thick with clouds. The phone he left on his nightstand the night before read 4:32 AM. Have I ever woken up this early in my life? This is usually my bedtime…
Steve stood shirtless, ankle-deep in seawater before he truly woke up. The water of the Pacific was brutally cold. The dark turquoise ocean stretched infinitely before the young man. The beach was deserted, with the gray fog clinging to Steve’s ankles.
“Wait a minute, fuck this—” Keith gave Steve a hearty shove between his shoulder blades, almost launching him off his feet and into the water.
“In ya go,” Keith said with too much enjoyment. Steve plunged face-first into a curling dark wave. Gasping uncontrollably, Steve clawed to stay above the surf as the water drained his body heat. He tried to control his breathing, but the impulse was too strong as his lungs bucked against him. Steve got a mouthful of briny water as another dark wave crashed into him. Keith waded through the waves ahead of Steve until he was up to his neck before diving. The salty water burned his wounds. While the lacerations and scratches were mostly healed, they still burned. What burned the most were his forearms. They had suffered the brunt of his uncontrolled mana injection. The mana burns caused were too severe for even first-rate regenerators to heal entirely. Steve shrugged off the pain.
The bear seemed unfazed by the icy touch of the Pacific. Fuuuuck. Steve was finally able to stop hyperventilating after a minute and decided to make the most of the situation. Invoking his inner nine-year-old self, Steve began to breaststroke to the dark blob far ahead of him that was Keith. It had been that long since he last swam. Each wave he hit filled his nose and ears with salt water. Steve eventually made it past the surf to Keith who was peacefully treading water in the calmer water.
“Way to go newbie,” Keith said approvingly. All Steve could do was cough up a mouthful of saltwater and groan. “Don’t worry, we have more on the menu. Randal told me to get you up to speed as fast as possible,” Keith informed. Steve’s heart sank. He’d never been athletic, or good at anything physical. Steve’s only talent was how easy school came for him. The two boys began their swim back to the shore once Keith noticed Steve gradually sinking. Keith could tread water indefinitely, but Steve could not.
“Let’s go get warm,” Keith said encouragingly. Steve perked up at the thought of taking a nice warm shower as a reward. Shivering uncontrollably, he began to walk back towards the team house across the road from the beach before Keith stopped him. “Ah ah ahh,” Keith said as he pointed back at the beach. Dread welled up within Steve. No… he couldn’t mean. Keith did.
“No…” Steve uttered the only words he could in his shivering state.
“Yes,” Keith replied with too much enthusiasm. “See that lighthouse over there?” Keith pointed to a point in the distance. Shrouded in the early morning fog was a lighthouse. It was so small in the distance it had to be several kilometers up the beach. “We’re going there,” Keith said decisively.
To say the run was pain was undervaluing Steve’s suffering. The sand was brutal to Steve’s calves, giving way under each step and making them burn more. Keith waited for Steve a hundred meters ahead without so much as breaking a sweat. The man had the strength of a bear, the speed of a bear, and the stamina of a bear if bears could run marathons. Steve’s lungs and throat burned intensely as if he had inhaled hot embers. To make matters worse, they weren’t even halfway to the lighthouse. Then they had to run back. Although Keith was right, Steve wasn’t shivering anymore. The top layer of his skin felt frozen, but underneath he was very warm. They ran for almost half an hour. Steve spent the bulk of the time catching up to Keith while he waited. Keith usually did clap push-ups in the sand while Steve caught back up. It was an ordeal, but they were making steady progress.
Steve stood panting heavily at the base of the cliff where the lighthouse stood. It was old and defunct, a relic of when the fur trade brought more ships to the area. The journey had been painful and difficult, but it was satisfying.
“See, you made it,” Keith gave Steve a high five.
“Barely,” Steve said between gasps for air. His knees shook uncontrollably, and he was pretty sure his calves had permanently seized up from overuse. The run back was still hard, but more tolerable now that Steve knew it was possible. The cramps in his calves were painful but he didn’t want to waste Keith’s time. The two returned to the house and tip-toed up the creaky deck. Keith told him to wash the sweat and seawater off, but only with cold water. Keith had more plans after that.
The cold shower was nothing in comparison to the frigid, uncaring Pacific Ocean. It was like comparing a candle to a 100,000-lumen LED flashlight. It felt like he had an outer layer of tough skin that resisted the water. Steve didn’t even hyperventilate. He reconvened with Keith in the kitchen below. Both men made sure to be quiet so as to not wake any of the other inhabitants. Steve checked his phone. It was 5:42.
“Where are we going exactly?” Steve asked in a hushed voice. Nothing could phase him after enduring freezing seawater, a grueling run on the beach, and then a cold shower. Keith was wearing a tank top that displayed his boulder shoulders and gargantuan arms. He looked like a Greek god who ate nothing but Creatine and steroids.
“The gym,” Keith replied as he locked the door behind them. Then they began to jog. The first signs of day began to appear as the dark sky grew lighter. The streets of Seabrook were completely deserted, and Steve couldn’t blame any of the inhabitants. It was damp and foggy while being barely 50 degrees out.
“Us paragons have much faster recovery compared to normal humans. Something about lactic acid and blah blah being much quicker. Just means we can train a shit ton and do it again the next day,” Keith chuckled effortlessly as he jogged alongside Steve.
“Are you on steroids?” Steve asked Keith. Keith’s large frame held an unnatural amount of muscle mass, even someone completely ignorant like Steve could tell.
“Nope, don’t need them,” Keith replied. “Another perk of the blessing is that we can put on way more muscle mass than normal. Absorbing mana fundamentally changes the structure of our tissue, changing what is humanly, or should I say, para-humanly possible.” Steve was intrigued. Becoming a paragon seemed to have countless benefits for physical fitness.
Luckily for Steve, the gym was only a few blocks away. It was a concrete warehouse unit with a rusty metal garage door. It had no signs or any indication of ownership, likely meaning it was privately owned by the team.
“Is this the team gym or something?” Steve asked curiously.
“Correct, Steve-O,” Keith responded as he struggled to unlock the door. The lock in the door looked to be rusty and sticky from all the salty air.
“That title is too much for me, but one day I will live up to it,” Steve bowed. Keith finally opened the door revealing a dark interior. With catlike precision, Keith walked through the dark and flicked the lights on. One by one the fluorescent tubes clicked on. The gym was small in comparison to a commercial gym, but it looked to be nearly 15 by 20 meters. The floor of the gym was a black rubber-like material. Equipment covered every open space of the gym. Some Steve was familiar with, and many were foreign to him. There were multiple makeshift apparatuses that looked to be cobbled out of scrap and garbage. The back wall had four squat racks spanning it from side to side. There was even a complete rack of dumbbells going up to 300 lbs. Steve did notice how all the larger dumbbells looked to be homemade. The gym was rough and practical. It had an intimidating aura, but Steve felt pumped.
“So what are we doing?” Steve asked. Truthfully, he had no experience with any kind of resistance training. One time he did a push up. Keith thought for a moment, towering over Steve.
“Hmmm. Will your forearms be alright?” Keith questioned. Steve looked down at his arms. He’d completely forgotten about them. Covering his forearms were black scabs, some almost forming a geometric pattern. There were red patches all over his arms like camouflage.
“They hurt a little in the water but they’re fine now,” Steve reassured. They still stung a little but he didn’t want to appear like a quitter.
“Alrighty, we’ll do a little bit of everything,” Keith clapped his hands together as he walked toward a bench press. The entire left wall of the gym was dedicated to bench presses. Next to each station was a chest-high stack of 95-pound plates, which was not a common weight.
“Aw, crikey. Need to find the smaller weights,” Keith grunted. Steve wholeheartedly agreed with Keith. There was no way he could bench those plates, especially with the abnormally thick reinforced-looking bar. Keith came back from the other side of the gym with a stack of smaller plates. The man’s herculean strength showed as he carried what had to be over 300 pounds of weight in his arms like nothing.
“The blessing increases your physical stats by around 50%, but it might’ve been less for you,” Keith said trying to be delicate.
“No… it probably did… It’s just that 1 times 1.5 is just 1.5,” Steve said self-deprecatingly.
“Let’s test your maxes first. See if you can do just the bar, it's 100 pounds. It’s an extra reinforced bar I had custom-made,” Keith instructed. Steve laid down on the bench and scooted under the bar.
“Now scoot back a little, you want you're about right below the bar,” Steve followed suit. “Right, now put your ring fingers on those loops. Just unrack it, bring tap it to your chest then push up,” Keith continued. Steve did as instructed. Much to his surprise the weight wasn’t too difficult and he completed three reps.
“Good, good. Let’s go up,” Keith said as he slid on a 25-pound plate on each side.
“Isn’t this a bit of a jump in weight? Steve asked. It was a 50% increase which made Steve question himself.
“Ah, don’t worry, I’m your spot,” Keith reassured. Steve unracked the bar and brought it to his chest. Unsurprisingly, pushing it back up was much harder. Steve struggled and writhed under its weight, his elbow stuck at 90 degrees for several seconds. In the end, he was able to complete the rep, but not without his face becoming red.
“Gosh, that was hard,” Steve panted. He felt childish after only pressing 150 pounds as an almost full-fledged adult. Especially after receiving potentially a 50% strength bonus.
“Nice one,” Keith gave Steve a mighty fist bump that left his knuckles throbbing. “Right, now we know your max let’s do some sets,” Keith said. Although barely, Steve was able to complete the next sets. Keith made sure to push him as far as he could, leaving Steve’s arms feeling like jelly.
“You’ll see your strength explode once you’re regular with your training. The blessing practically removes the limits of what you can achieve,” Keith nodded. Steve felt an excitement bubble within him. Maybe one day he could have Keith’s boulder shoulders and V taper. Now that he thought about it, Keith was a complete chad. He had a chin that looked chiseled out of a granite face and pearly white teeth. He looked like he could play a bully football player in a high school movie.
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“For reference, how much can you bench?” Steve asked Keith. The man bear Chad thought for a second.
“Without mana reinforcement, just completely raw about 1600? I don’t remember pounds that well,” Keith answered nonchalantly. Steve almost choked. He wasn’t a powerlifting expert, but he knew that destroyed any world records by a ridiculous margin.
“Wow.”
“I’ve never even tried with reinforcement. I think there wouldn’t be enough room on the bar for more weight,” Keith said as he looked at the thick black bar. Steve didn’t doubt him one bit. If there was
one man who could fight a grizzly bear, Keith was probably it. Mostly because Keith was one already.
“So does strength training increase your stats directly?” Steve asked.
“Oh, of course. Training directly affects them. Of course, you can allocate skillpoints, but it’s kinda lame. It raises the strength of every muscle in your body by a fixed percentage, so it turns out to be unnoticeable for a while.”
Steve continued the full-body workout from hell with Keith. Next was the dreaded squat. It took a while for him to get the form down, but he was able to squat 200 pounds. Keith reported that he could squat nearly ten times that. The sky was finally turning a light gray as the sun came around the horizon. The door to the gym opened with a clack as Rachel walked in. She was wearing sweatpants and a tracksuit jacket.
“Torturing Steve I see,” Rachel called out from across the facility. Keith lit up as he made eye contact with his girlfriend.
“No, he likes it! Mornin, Rach,” Keith waved back like an excited puppy. “How about you teach Steve over here how to deadlift while I watch?” He suggested as he pointed at Steve. Steve was having trouble putting Keith’s instructions into action. Although it sounded simple to just lean over and pick the bar off the ground, it was quite technical. There were all sorts of cues that Steve just didn’t understand, or wasn’t coordinated enough to pull off.
“Keith you perv, you want to stare at my ass,” Rachel blew him off, immediately seeing Keith’s ulterior motives. After several more tries, Steve was finally able to correctly lift the bar.
“Alright, Stevi-boy let's put on 250,” Keith proclaimed. Steve complied and he and Keith added another 80 pounds to the bar. He doubted whether his grip could even handle it. Ignoring those thoughts, Steve bent over and latched his hand around the bar.
“Keep your back straight and hold your breath,” Keith instructed from the side. Steve pulled with everything he had. Blood rushed to his head as he strained to lift the bar. To his surprise, the bar came off the ground and traveled with him until he was locked out.
“I thought she’s a mage, how is she so strong?” Steve asked Keith. Rachel had three 95-pound plates on either side of the bar and was cranking out perfect squats like a machine. It was uncanny seeing Rachel, a 5’6ish woman throw around almost 700 pounds like a warm-up. Steve was beginning to understand just how elite Randal and the Sea Men were. Each individual was a monster on their own, being strong enough to break world records in their respective weight classes.
“Same way as me. Training and the blessing,” Keith said proudly.
“How about you show me how much you can deadlift while we wait?” Steve suggested. The deadlift bar was another custom order and was significantly longer than any of the other bars in the gym. It looked like it was specifically designed to hold more weight.
“Not a bad idea, I haven’t checked in a while. Fighting monsters does make me tired enough most of the time,” Keith muttered. Steve helped Keith load the bar as best as he could, which wasn’t much help. He could barely carry one of the 95-pound plates on his own with its hard-to-grip surface. In the end, the bar had 9 plates on each side. Keith walked up to the bar, wrapping his fingers around it. For a moment his thighs bulged, and then he effortlessly ripped it off the ground. The extra thick bar sagged on either end under the immense weight it carried. It was at full capacity, but Keith didn’t even seem fazed by it. He just kept cranking out reps like a machine. With each movement, the plates clanked together with the small gaps between them. Keith moved so fast the bar wobbled precariously. Steve watched in awe. This feat of strength was so inhumane he doubted a machine could do what Keith was doing so quickly. Keith finished after about 20 reps. Only then did he look a little affected. One drop of sweat ran down his forehead, but he didn’t even pant. That bear man could probably throw Steve. Not like a sack of rice mind you, like a shot put. Steve shuddered at the idea of angering this man or giving any incentive to throw him.
“Remind me to not piss you off,” Steve joked casually.
“Ripped the last recruit's arms off,” Keith replied nonchalantly. His accent made the sentence almost believable. Keith’s phone buzzed in his pocket without warning. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket, his smile fading as he looked at the screen. The normal-sized phone looked like a child’s toy in his massive hands.
“Aw, shoot. Randal’s got some urgent business he needs my help with. Looks like we have to stop by the PIMP office too,” Keith said with disappointment evident on his face. It seemed he wanted to torment Steve further.
“Did something bad happen?” Steve asked.
“It’s a cleanup job. Rach, do you think you can train him for a while? Anyway, see you later,” Keith replied in a hurry as he gathered his belongings and ran out of the gym. The gym felt empty without Keith’s massive presence. Steve stood silently and stared at Rachel like a lost puppy. He had no idea what to do as a complete novice. Rachel finished her last set on the squat rack and spent the next couple of minutes returning all the weights on the bar. Finally, she turned to Steve.
“Let’s go to the field outside,” She said to Steve as she left the warehouse building. Steve followed awkwardly. The first rays of dawn were obscured by the thick cloud layer over the ocean. It was finally light outside. The field looked to be several empty lots with nothing dividing them. It was an overgrown field of yellow grass with several target dummies piled at one end.
“What’s your XP bar at right now?” Rachel asked Steve briskly. Steve was getting the hang of using GateOS and was finally able to open his status without any physical queues.
“Currently, 30 out of 51 XP,” Steve answered. He was curious why she was asking him.
“Hm. This is the only time you should do what I’m about to recommend you do,” Rachel began as she chewed on her thumbnail while thinking. “Accept the level up, then use the skillpoint you get to learn magic missile. Then we can begin some hands-on training,” She concluded. Steve wasn’t opposed to it. The amount of XP absorption he was missing out on was minimal and likely didn’t matter at all in the grand scheme of things. Steve clicked on [Level Up] and was immediately blasted with a waterfall of energy. He dropped to his knees, not expecting the fearsome wall of energy that was besieging him. The feeling was like nothing else he had experienced. It was like electricity was running through every cell of his body, tempering, mending, and changing it. Heat danced all over his skin, snaking around in strange patterns. He could feel the intricate tattoo on his back stinging with energy. The entire process lasted less than four seconds.
“That was intense,” Steve groaned. He wished someone had given him a warning.
“Yeah, the first four or so are like that,” Rachel nodded. Steve navigated his menu to the spell catalog. On the page were only six spells. Steve selected [Magic Missile].
Spell Name Circle Tier Skillpoints Magic Missile 1 1 Frost Bolt 1 2 Mage Hand 1 1 Minor Detonation 1 1 Create Water 1 1 Create Stone 1 1
[Magic Missile] Level 1. Circle 1 Launches a projectile of mana from the caster’s focal point.
Steve clicked on the [Buy] Button, then on [Yes]. He felt a jolt of electricity run through his brain as he immediately learned how to cast the spell. It was someone else’s raw barebones memories that were shoved into his brain. If he thought about it, he could see a blurry memory of the spell being cast, and how to cast it. It was a less intimate version of an old childhood memory.
You have learned Magic missile!
“This isn’t better than learning the spell on my own, right?” Steve refused to believe that using cheats was just as effective as spending one’s own blood, sweat, and tears instead of a skillpoint.
“You're not wrong. Buying spells with skillpoints, even some skills, is a waste. You should really only use them learn to extremely difficult spells or skills, and then you should still learn it the old fashioned way afterward. Teaching you will be way easier if you already know the feeling of casting the simplest offensive spell, though,” Rachel explained. It made sense. The first step was always the hardest, and it wasn’t a bad idea to let GateOS do it for him. “Let’s see you cast it,” Rachel pointed to the dummies across the field.
“I haven’t tried yet, but I think that’s too far for me,” Steve said hesitantly. The dummies lay in a heap 30 meters away from Steve. They were gray crash test dummies that had been through a lot. Most of them were charred and broken. Most of them were missing at least one limb.
“Just try,” Rachel instructed. Steve decided to shut his party pooper mouth before he even tried anything. Raising his right hand up he began to intuitively concentrate his mana into the correct patterns and shapes inside his mana circuits. He had an intuitive understanding that the structure he was weaving was something called the ‘Base’ or something equivalent. The definitions inside his head were more concepts than specific words. His casting wasn’t quite second nature, but it was close enough to get the job done. The base of the magic missile was rather simple and crude. He finished forming it in 20 seconds. The next stage of the spell was called something along the lines of ‘Driver’. This was the piece of the spell that moved and interacted with the outside world. A thin blue clump of raw mana began to form above his palm as the spell neared completion. The morning fog glowed blue around the fizzling ball of energy. Steve kept a close grip on the flow of energy he allowed to the clump of mana that floated about his hand. Too much and it could detonate above his hand and cause serious injury, not unlike when he used mana injection for the first time. He let the now oblong shape reach the length of a banana before he stopped supplying it with his mana. Energy crackled within the glowing wisp of mana above his hand. Finally, he let it loose. It shot forward like an arrow, leaving a blue trail behind it in the air. The projectile hit several meters in front of the dummies and exploded in a small burst of blue, throwing chunks of soil up in the air.
“Crap, I missed,” Steve mumbled. He felt a little embarrassed missing, but his heart of full of excitement for what the world of magic held.
“No, that was actually not bad. Your mana is very stable for a novice,” Rachel commented. Her eyes flashed green for a brief moment before a bolt of blue energy exploded into existence a meter in front of her chest. Rachel didn’t use a focal point. Before half a second could pass, the bolt whizzed away much faster than Steve’s. The projectile made a hissing noise as it cut through the air effortlessly. The blue bolt exploded dead center on a dummy’s chest with a crack after a blue flash. The shock wave traveled through the air and blew away the fog surrounding the pile of dummies. Steve watched in awe. It took her about half a second to cast the spell in completion. Rachel’s magic missile was much faster and more powerful than Steve’s. Her aim was perfect too.
“How did you do that so fast?” Steve asked. He was completely jealous of how effortless it was for Rachel. Plus it was extremely badass.
“There’s some technique involved, but it’s mostly practice,” Rachel chuckled at Steve’s wide eyes. It was the first time he’d seen actual magic so close up. Jun’s tanuki had done some crazy shit, but he was far enough away it didn’t have as much of a psychological impact on him. “Randal was right in recruiting you as soon as he could,” Rachel said as she undid her ponytail. “You’ll probably surpass me very quickly if you manage not to die.” There was quite a high probability of that happening. Steve wondered why he agreed to continue at all. What happened in the Yakima gate was intense, and more than a little traumatizing. Several people he knew died horrific deaths. He and Jun had been badly injured too. Yet he realized he found the entire ordeal exhilarating. It was different from his mundane life as a college dropout working at a record store.
“Let’s see,” Rachel thought for a moment. “We’ll try some magic missile variations, and then it’s time for breakfast,” She decided. Rachel wasn’t a bad teacher. She was patient with Steve who never understood anything on the first try. She had an aloof demeanor with a hint of existential fatigue behind her eyes. Every member of the Sea Men seemed to have extensive combat experience, which didn’t seem to be great for their mental health. Over the next hour, Rachel taught Steve several variations of magic missile. They weren’t new spells individually, instead, they were tweaked versions of the original. Just about any change in the structure of any part of the spell could drastically change the output. Steve was able to make the missile make large arcs and turn mid-air a couple of times. Rachel was able to effortlessly split one missile into three and control each one perfectly.
“I should’ve mentioned earlier, but what you’re learning is a system of magic called Standard Calyx,” Rachel explained. Steve had no idea what it meant, but it sounded badass and Steven Michael liked badass things. “It’s the primary base system used by almost all mages alive,” She continued.
“So are there other ones?” Steve asked without even understanding what a base system was.
“Forgive me if I’m wrong, it’s been a minute since I was at the academy. There are a few other systems out there, but they’re barely used at all,” Rachel scratched her brow. Steve almost felt her cringe as she uttered the word academy. “Aegor, then there are a handful of shamanic systems. Gosh… what’s the other one,” She paused as she wracked her brain for the answer for a few seconds. “Ah! Linear Blacktorch.”
“What are the differences?” Steve was intrigued by the name Linear Blacktorch. He knew nothing about magic but it sounded cool as hell.
“I’m a combat mage, so take this all with a grain of salt. I believe the main differences are in complexity and application. Aegor is dying out, and the only people who use it are artificers. Standard Calyx is the best all-rounder, hence its popularity,” She paused as she thought again. She did a lot of thinking with her little blonde head. Maybe she should become a professional thinker.
“What makes Linear Blacktorch different?” Steve pressed. It sounded too cool to be left out.
“Hmm. I know a few people who use it. But only to cast first-circle spells faster. The main thing is that it’s really complicated. A lot of Standard Calyx is simplified blacktorch rune shapes. And I think it’s hard to keep blacktorch spells stable for most people,” Rachel explained.
“Does it have any strengths over the other systems?”
“It can be really fast and efficient, I think,” Rachel replied. “I don’t know a whole lot about it, but I can lend you one of my old academy books on it if you’d like,” She offered. Steve was still intrigued by Linear Blacktorch. He liked the idea of learning a less used system so he could be a special snowflake and gloat.
“That would be great, thanks.”