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The Ascendant [Reincarnation LitRPG]
8. Gateway to the Mystic Arts II

8. Gateway to the Mystic Arts II

Although the [Transliterating Glass] had broken, Sorrinn awoke in the far reaches of morning to return to his spot in the storeroom. He borrowed one of the lanterns in the hallway for lighting and was before the opened tome on his knees. Of the Creation spells in the book, there were four forms for each core element: fire, water, wind, and stone. He couldn’t get any sleep at all, thoughts too preoccupied pondering which of the four elements he’d dedicate himself to for likely the next few years of his life.

Fire was off the table since his house was mostly constructed of wood. His first feat of note in life wasn’t going to be burning his house down. Stone wasn’t to his tastes. Seemed… lacking to him—uninteresting, per se. Water was interesting and flexible. Nonetheless, his heart was set on wind for one reason and one reason alone: He hoped if he mastered the art enough, he would eventually be able to fly through wind magic.

Well, Creation was all about producing matter and energy from the collision of one’s mystic wealth and The Mystic Force. True controlled flight wasn’t in Creation’s deck of cards regardless of how much he mastered it—at least he thought. That was more in Alteration’s modus operandi, where he’d theoretically be able to transform the properties of the wind around him to support his weight and propel him in any direction. But, the author was adamant Creation and Alteration were mirrors of one another—one making from what wasn’t; the other making from what was. Some of his comprehension of wind creation magic would transfer to wind alteration magic, surely.

Sorrinn was getting ahead of himself; he wasn’t touching the spells yet. Forget directing the flow of his mystic wealth beyond himself; he’d yet to even rouse its embers to know where its home was.

It was less exciting, but he assumed a cross-legged, meditative stance before the book, cupping his hands in his lap, declining his chin, and closing his eyes. He breathed in a deep, full breath, held it in his lungs for ten seconds, exhaled slowly, steadily, and smoothly until his lungs were empty, then repeated the former in a loop. Each time he inhaled, he imagined the waves of his mystic wealth surging like breaths onto cinders. Every exhale, he envisioned the boundaries of his mystic wealth overflowing. And he remained subsumed in the focus of that loop for three hours straight—three hours which felt like a few minutes to him within his concentration.

His senses silenced as they funneled around a pinprick-sized hole at the center of his being. Soon, he found himself hovering above that boundless silver ocean within the void. His incorporeal reflection hosted an image of Sorrinn then. No dregs of Caleb remained entangled within his sense of self.

It was his first time seeing himself since he was reborn. He was as adorable as he hoped and believed, having Maeve and Orrillimmirr for parents and all. His hair, skin, and eyes were all so pale—almost deathly so. He looked like he suffered from albinism, but Orrillimmirr and Asammirr were the same, so he guessed it was a feature of his Asuuriian bloodline rather than something which he suffered from. Sorrinn hadn’t inherited Elven features as strongly as his brother had. His ears were a little long, albeit rounder than they were pointed. He was young, so his features were still squishy. Though it was evident he was a male unlike Asammirr.

When he thought about it, Orrillimmirr, while not the most masculine thing in existence, still looked predominantly male as well. Why was his brother different? Genetics were weird.

The next question which arose in his thoughts: Why was he back there in that colorless realm? His memories of it both weren’t the greatest but also the best. A lot had happened all at once. It was overwhelming to remember.

He received his answer when his reflection broke away from his motion, moving of its own accord, and smiled at him. It outstretched its hand, gesturing to him with its flourishing fingers to tag along.

So he reached and grabbed the reflection’s hand. Not a moment later, the reflection darted into the monochrome sea with him in tow. It had his hand and wasn’t letting go, so he was dragged along behind it in its speedy descent toward the refulgent mass of color gleaming at the bottom as it playfully spiraled like a dolphin riding an ocean current.

Soon, the stimulation came gushing in. His surroundings washed to white, countless streaks of color passing him by. Then the light settled, and his vision, albeit still fuzzy, focused enough for him to make out his surroundings. His eyes were open.

Sorrinn was back in that odd, blue-grassed meadow beneath the shifting abysmal-hued, stellar-jaded sky—The Place Within. It felt like it’d been a lifetime since he was there last. He’d almost forgotten how cute the woodland constellations roaming the meadow were and how peaceful the silence was. The sourceless chimes humming through the air were like a cool breeze on a summer’s day for his mind.

The key difference was that all of the many variations of Caleb were then occupying the expanse. The younger ones ran about through the grass and laughed with each other while the older ones simply wandered or found somewhere nice to sit and rest for a while beneath the enrapturing sky.

One of the younger ones ran up to him, pointing at the river of radiant, azure smoke meandering through the meadow. His little finger traced along the course which the river flowed. What was that stuff, anyway?

He took that as a sign to follow the river’s course, setting off to do just so.

Ambling along the riverbank, the river curved inward into the forest of ivory-barked, sapphire-leaved trees further ahead. He continued following it through the dense, faintly-luminescent foliage for what somehow simultaneously felt like seconds, minutes, hours, and days. As if time compressed into a single thread, becoming indecipherable. At the end of its length, he came upon the site of a basin in the middle of the forest—too vast to fathom crossing; too deep to imagine descending. Millions of glowing particles inhabited the air there, dancing like fireflies over the tall grass during a summer evening. A small, azure blue maelstrom of glowing smoke—the same smoke flowing through the river—swirled at the basin’s bottom. Currents of the smoke impossibly flowed up the walls of the crater, reaching in every which direction for the ten channels that infinitely diverged into branching tributaries the farther out they progressed. However, aside from the one river he followed to get there, the energy struggled to permeate the other nine channels.

His physical body’s inhales made the energy boil with excitement, while his exhales ever-so slightly proliferated the quantity of energy within the basin.

Witnessing the mechanism as a whole, it only dawned on him then: that was his mystic wealth. The smoke was the mystic energy innately dwelling in his body. He was glimpsing upon tangible expressions of the concepts mentioned in the book. The answer was given to him a long time ago and he overlooked it as insignificant. Perhaps nothing inside The Place Within could be described as trifling.

That meant the method—a method—of training Arcana was via direct stimulation of the mystic wealth through deep meditation. There were probably other methods he’d yet to discover.

The maelstrom’s flow grew tempestuous all of a sudden. Surges bubbled up, rushed, leapt, and crashed against the walls of the basin like tides slamming against the sides of cliffs. Every cycle of his breathing caused the wealth to surge in quantity all the more, deep, thooming pulses of power flashing through the azurean radiance below. Notification after notification cycled through his peripherals, as if his discovery of its location within himself and his discernation of the full picture were the bolt-cutters which had unfettered the chains of his growth.

*Bing* *BIng* *Bing* *Bing* *Bing* *Bing* *Bing* *Bing*

[+1! Arcana has increased to 27!]

[+1! Arcana has increased to 28!]

[+1! Arcana has increased to 29!]

[+1! Arcana has increased to 30!]

[+1! Arcana has increased to 31!]

[+1! Arcana has increased to 32!]

[Ascension Trial: Gain 5 cumulative points in any attribute has been completed!]

[Congratulations, Sorrinn Songscribe, you have reached Level 2! You have received the following as a reward: +3 Essence of Ascension, +5 Essence of Cultivation.]

The excitement soon calmed. The maelstrom, embiggened, quieted in its basin. A level-up too; that was exciting. He had some things to check out once he left.

That said, his breathing and envisioning of his wealth’s rousing had him on the right track. The energy of the maelstrom was doing its darndest to permeate the other channels but not quite getting there. He could tell immediately one of the major issues was how uncopious his mystic wealth was. It was stretching itself thin trying to suffuse itself through as many channels as possible, but simply couldn’t with his Arcana’s CV. Maybe diffusing energy into all of the channels wouldn’t ever be possible. Somehow, he needed to optimize the flow of the energy so, even with what scarce supply of mystic energy he possessed at present, he could still manage some minor spells.

Then it hit him like a bat to the back of an unsuspecting toddler’s head: That was precisely the effect the spell forms executed. Well, partially. He’d have to get his wealth flowing out through the old-fashioned method of training his mystic pathways first. He loved how everything was falling into place for his future success.

His eyes opened in the physical world, met by the daylight-illuminated storeroom’s image. The scent of grilling meat wafted thick in the air—breakfast time. It was best he went down before anyone came seeking him out. He hopped up and ran downstairs, jumping into his chair at the dining table, where his father and brother already were. He must’ve really been late to the party. He was always the first to arrive and Orrillimmirr was always too busy in his alchemy workshop to be anything but last. He was sure to flash his brightest smile and wave to everyone. “Hi, Mama. Hi, Paba. Hi, Sammi.”

“Asammirr,” his older brother corrected. He enunciated it out in pieces, chopping his hands across the table: “A-sam-mirr.”

“Sammi!” Sorrinn beamed, rambunctiously laughing.

Asammir wasn’t impressed, eyes narrowed into thin, incredulous lines.

Maeve made preparing a meal for four with that ancient setup look as effortless as ever. He had no clue how she managed to make such flavorful food with so many restrictions. With all of the modern amenities, he couldn’t make food half as good.

She glanced over her shoulder as she stirred whatever was in the pot. A smile, just for him. “Morning, lovely.”

“What happened today, Sorrinn?” his father asked, almost teasing of tone. “You’re always the first to the table in the morning, little one.”

Sorrinn’s eyes narrowed in obvious thought, irises veering sideways. “Uhmmm… I… was sleeping? In my bed?” He said that with a cute smile in hopes of distracting everyone from his abominable poker face. Sounded good to him. He bounced his head twice, assured.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“But I checked your room and you weren’t there,” Asammirr pointed out. Little snitch.

Someone thought just because they were older, they were hot stuff. Someone was due to learn they were mistaken. That wasn’t a game Asammirr was going to win. Sorrinn could snap a kitten’s neck right in front of his older brother’s face, then proceed to drop a squat and squeeze a wet turd on its corpse, and no one would ever believe him if he told. That was just the power balance between the younger and older sibling.

Sorrinn shrugged and shook his head, saying with ample yet masterfully subtle sass, “Blind? I dunno. Check harder next time.”

Orrillimmirr blurted out a sharp, repressed snort of amusement. His head dipped low as he quickly shielded his smile with a pair of rubbing fingers. He wasn’t anticipating that retort from Sorrinn at all. His undeveloped, childish way of enunciating only enhanced the humor.

Poor Asammirr was still too young to detect the nuance behind Sorrinn’s tone. He saw how their father reacted, pale eyes snapping onto Orrillimmirr when he snorted, but had no idea why. So he sat there fussily glowering at his little brother with crossed arms, boiling in his chagrin, piercing holes through him with his stare like he was going to do something. That was until Maeve escorted the tray holding everyone’s steaming bowls to the table. Once the food was there, bygones were bygones in a pen’s click. The two brothers were too busy inhaling everything in sight and relishing the flavor to remember any feuds. Their bowls were empty by the first minute, licked clean.

“Can I go outside, Mama?” Asammirr asked, brows arched.

“Of course. You know the rules: Don’t cause trouble. Don’t leave the village. Be home by—”

“—Dusk; I know.” He was dashing through the front door a second later.

Maeve wasn’t a pig like them, so she was taking her sweet time eating. And Orrillimmirr paced himself to keep her company.

Sorrinn was on his way back upstairs next, when his father said:

“I’m heading out to the rim of the Great Forest to harvest some fae-plants today if you want to accompany me, Sorrinn.”

Sorrinn paused, looking back like a deer in headlights. “Uhmmm…” A finger slipped up into his nose, rummaged around, then slipped out hosting the innocuity of a female mammal yowling out loud in heat. He shook his head. “No, I’ll stay here, Paba.”

Orrillimmirr frowned. “Why not? You love going into the village with your papa.” The disappointment was woven on his father’s face.

It was killing Sorrinn to say no. Orrillimmirr loved how curious he was about the world, and he adored how his father loved his unabating curiosity. The way his father’s expression lit up with joy every time he asked a question while he rode on his shoulders was what he always wanted to have with the one he called Dad. But, alas, the grind waited for no one. He had a level-up waiting for him and possibly a breakthrough in casting magic. He’d have an Elven lifetime to make countless memories alongside his father. Contrarily, his early years of life were the most critical for his Arcana and Intelligence progression. The choice was obvious.

His finger poking at his chin, all he could do was look around everywhere but his father’s eyes. “Uhmm… Playing… With my toys?” Sounded good to him.

“I see. I understand.” His father cast forth a good-spirited smile anyway, despite his heavy-heartedness from being rejected. “Well, don’t allow me to keep your toys waiting, my little one. I’ll be here for a while longer if you have a change of heart.”

Sorrinn frowned the moment his back turned. On the inside, he was perched over the floor on hands and knees, bashing his fist against the ground as he fought back rivers of tears. Somehow, someday, he would make it up to his dad—that, he swore. He scurried along upstairs, back to the storeroom.

Before he returned to his magic endeavors, he summoned his menu to see what the deal with leveling up was. First was to the Attributes tab. Everything about it was as should be, except for one thing:

[Available Essence of Ascension: 3]

There was also a plus mark next to the right side of each of his attributes’ potential values. A tap on the plus next to his Vitality and he understood what purpose Essence of Ascension served when his Vitality’s PV increased from seventy-five to seventy-six. It was that means of increasing his PVs he was wondering about—ascendance value. A lance of panic drove through his mind, believing he’d wasted a valuable point on Vitality. His life was already long beyond Human measure; it didn’t need to become longer. But, thankfully, The System foresaw his fumble. There was a convenient minus symbol on the PV’s left side to restore the allocated point. Nothing was final until he finalized it with the pressing of the [Confirm] button at the bottom.

Choices, choices, choices. Actually, no, not at all—he was a filthy liar. His mind was already made by the moment he realized what they were. All three points were allocated into Arcana.

Say he were to receive three points each time he leveled up. The first ten levels would perhaps be the quickest due to the simplicity of the trials. Ten levels was a total of thirty Essence of Ascension. That was a whole thirty additional PV into his attributes of choice. A sane, reasonable person would distribute it across a group of select attributes key to their intended progression paths. No, not him. He wasn’t sane nor reasonable—not a single sane bone. They didn’t call him Mad Bone Larry for nothing— Okay, no one called him that, but the point withstood. To him, that was thirty additional PV into his Arcana attribute to hoist the heights of his magic potential into the realm of legends, which would bring him to an oh-so divine PV total of one-hundred-thirteen. It was the perfect opportunity to see what happened when a PV overflowed, as well.

Once his Arcana PV surpassed one-hundred, he’d be more responsible and explorative with his points. Till then?

He didn’t ponder before pounding the [Confirm] button.

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[Available Essence of Ascension: 0]

(Force)

—Charisma: 51 / [51] / (0)

—Arcana: 32 / [86] / (3)

—Spirit: 41 / [77] / (0)

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So that was what the third value was for—a separate tally for the ascendance value. His PV had increased to eighty-six anyway, but that way, he would always know how much AV he’d invested into it.

Next was the Essence of Cultivation. To the Skills tab, he went.

He thought the currency would allow him to level up his skills, but no; skills couldn’t be leveled through that means, it seemed.

That was when he noticed an icon of a shop flashing in the top-right corner. He pushed it. It brought him to a new tab labeled as the Ascendance Shop—a place where it appeared he could exchange Essence of Cultivation for new skills.

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{The Ascendance Shop}

[Available Essence of Cultivation: 5]

(Agility Skills)

* (Cost: 2) [Walking Lvl 1] - (Agility) - (Passive): Your gait and walking posture is purged of its inefficiencies, allowing you to walk 15% faster. Agility experience from the task of walking is increased by 5% permanently.

(Perception Skills)

* (Cost: 5) [Vision Magnification Lvl 1] - (Perception) - (Active): Zoom your range of visual perception in up to 5x with no loss of acuity.

(Intelligence Skills)

* (Cost: 2) [Thought Processing Lvl 1] - (Intelligence) - (Passive): The structure of your thoughts is optimized for efficiency, allowing you to think clearer. Intelligence experience from the task of contemplating is increased by 5% permanently.

* (Cost: 5) [Hastened Assimilation Lvl 1] - (Intelligence) - (Passive): Become able to found stake in the foundations of new, unfamiliar intellectual concepts with relative ease. The rate at which you amass Intelligence experience is increased by 10% across all Intelligence-building activities.

* (Cost: 5) [Savant Physiology] - (Intelligence) - (Transformative): Restructure the physiology of your brain to excel at the super genius level in one specific area of cognition at the detriment of all others. This area is selected following purchase and cannot be overridden at a later date.

(Wisdom Skills)

* (Cost: 5) [Investigate Lvl 1] - (Wisdom) - (Active): Reveal information about a selected living being’s status/condition with a small chance to reveal details you are unaware of.

(Arcana Skills)

* (Cost: 2) [Enigmatic Resonation Lvl 1] - (Arcana) - (Passive): Your mystic wealth harmonizes with the mystic frequencies around you when it’s stimulated, drawing in ambient mystic energy to further supplement its growth. All Arcana experience gained through meditative stimulation is increased by 5% permanently.

* (Cost: 5) [Arcane Absorptive Lvl 1] - (Arcana) - (Passive): Passively draw a small amount of ambient mystic energy from the atmosphere and objects around you to assist with mystic wealth replenishment. Overflow will add to Arcana experience progress.

(Spirit Skills)

* (Cost: 5) [Focus Lvl 1] - (Spirit) - (Active): While performing any activity, enter a deeper state of focus which will increase the relevant attributes associated with the task being performed by 10% of themselves.

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He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he was mesmerized the deeper he explored. When The System said ascension, it meant ascension. He’d underestimated the extent of which it would permit him to modify his innate capabilities. Not only could he alter his potential, he could sharpen the talents he did possess through The System or even restructure his biology entirely. It was more than ascension; it was evolution; it was exhilarating. And those were only the beginning skills. He couldn’t wait until he gained access to more meat on the bone.

His initial instinct was to grab [Arcane Absorptive]. It was an Arcana skill and it sounded useful, plus it would feed into helping him amass Arcana. But, instead, he opted for [Enigmatic Resonation] and [Thought Processing]. He figured, since they were passive optimizers for his two primary attributes, he would purchase them early in his build. That way, not only would he benefit most from the early EXP boost, he could level them up sooner and increase the experience bonus he gained from both.

Everything in the shop was interesting. [Focus] was a steal. He could only imagine how godlike it’d become once leveled up. [Savant Physiology] was insane in both regards. Taking on a massive buff like that at the cost of other areas of Intelligence was risky, but could work if someone knew where they were headed down the ascension path. Gaining a perfect, infallible memory or a supercomputer’s level of processing speed by itself could be worth the downsides for some people, he imagined. Then there was the ugly duckling of the bunch: [Walking]. Because that was worth the two Essences of Cultivation, surely. The fool who bought that skill was playing the wrong game—unless they were going all-in on Agility the way he was Arcana.

He would return for [Arcane Absorptive], [Focus], and [Hastened Assimilation] once he had the funds.

He confirmed his acquisitions before dropping his menu. “Now let’s get to business.”

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A new trial has descended…

{Trials of the Ascendant}

[Ascension Task]: Meet the prerequisites to organically acquire any new skill. 0/1

[Completion Reward]: Level +1

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