True to her word, it did not take very long for Zi-Lor and the rest of the class to return. Though all were sound of body, less than half were sound of mind. It seemed that recruiting the weak and having them fight those capable of leveling mountains amounted to nothing more than sport for all involved; a letting off of steam and an opportunity to reveal and practice new techniques rather than any true fight. Andromedus vs Jeff and Henry vs Ni seemed to have been exceptions; the other fights were likely much closer to Tim and Laura.
That is to say a pile of shivering bodies fell out of a portal opened to the center of the room, though many others opened from the ceiling and deposited their students directly into empty and waiting chairs.
Zi-Lor spoke as if they weren’t there.
“Good job everyone. I expect you to develop new techniques based on the ones showcased today. Your grade will be determined based on the skill and power you build week after week, though we will be skipping next week to acquire and schedule matches in an arena more suited to your current power levels.”
“All of you but Henry are dismissed; Henry will stay here to receive his reward for highest placement,” she said, stepping out from behind the desk and pointing a heeled toe at the pile of living bodies,
“I think it’s obvious who performed worst.”
As the other students slowly made their way out of the classroom, Zi-Lor waved a hand and the rejects disappeared.
Henry asked the obvious question,
“...So why didn’t they just surrender?”
“It’s a duel to the death, that’s not allowed.”
“Then why was Ni allowed to surrender?”
“Because I couldn’t have brought him back.”
Henry knew exactly what she was implying, so it wasn’t necessary to clarify the matter any further. On the other hand,
“Ok, but why are they participating in the fights at all?”
Zi-Lor sounded uncharacteristically enthusiastic in her response,
“As live training dummies!”
She didn’t allow Henry to ask if they had the right to refuse.
“A good fighter needs to know how best to dispatch enemies of all strength levels. If you encounter a civilian on a battleground, chances are they aren’t one, so you can’t afford to hesitate.”
“But if they are?” Henry didn’t allow her to stop him from interrupting.
“Then they have bad luck.”
“Even if there was a 99% chance you killed a non-combatant, the 1% is worth taking a chance on.”
“What about the punishment?”
“Punishment for what? We don’t do that here and I’ve never heard of it anywhere else in the world either. Strength exists for the strong, and those that get in the way should have realized their place was far, far away from the battlefield.”
“When it comes time for combat there isn’t any reward for restraint. There is only victory and death. There is only the willingness to kill those in disguise, and those surprised and bested from behind. The moment one’s enemies hear whispers of your restraint, a knife will slip in from behind.”
“That’s just how combat works, and you have to accept it my dear pupil.”
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Henry let go of the topic.
“Will they be ok?”
“No, but it won’t affect you.”
“Oh…” Henry guessed she was right.
“So what’s my reward?”
“Me,” she tilted her head back and flipped her hair with a hand seductively.
Henry blinked.
“Of course not,” she said, returning to a normal pose.
“It’s an elixir.”
“What did you expect, a bag of gold and a bigger harem?”
“I mean kind of.”
“Well you get an elixir, isn’t it exciting!”
She pulled out a giant yellow bottle glistening with sparks and ringed in lightning from inside her chest.
Henry chugged it and the ambrosia ran down his chin.
“Delicious!” he said to distract himself from the fact it tasted like urine.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, but fair warning, the… unique taste never quite goes away.”
Clearly she’d had one before.
“But it’s worth the improvement to one’s cultivation.”
“But I don’t cultivate.”
“You can! Let me show you how.”
The air turned thick with red mist as Zi-Lor pressed her hands together and began reciting mantras,
“There are no civilians in war.”
“Corpses make excellent makeshift walls.”
“I enjoy strong elixirs~~~”
“Oh, did I say that out loud?” she pretended to blush, one pinkish-red nailed hand moving to cover her mouth.
“You don’t actually have to say anything to cultivate.”
…
Henry was unamused, “Of course not.”
“Enough teasing, to business then. The goal of all cultivation is to draw Yadabaoth’s essence from the air; what happens after that depends on what kind of cultivator you are.”
“I use it to strengthen both my connection to Yaldabaoth and to invigorate my blood, but you would be using it on your thin and strained connection to whatever it is feeding you power.”
Henry’s eyes darted left and then right, before finally making contact with hers.
“I don’t want to let it control me.”
“And it won’t. The connection I’m referring to is purely spiritual, purely connecting you to the power of your patron deity, you can’t be controlled through it.”
“Oh? Wouldn’t that be convenient.” Henry was fully aware that even if she was telling the truth, forging a stronger connection to something actively tearing the world apart meant only one thing: ripping a bigger hole in space. And even if it didn’t mean that, it would mean reliance on something who’s existence in this world was fundamentally incompatible with his own; it would mean reliance on the deity that would one day come to replace him if Henry allowed it. He would not.
“Fine then, use it on yourself, but you’d achieve a multiplicative effect if you used it to forge a stronger connection to powers outside this world.”
“Imagine a swirling tide.” Henry needed to pee.
“You are at the center of a storm. You are the rock which a ship-destroying vortex swirls around.”
His bladder was filling unusually fast. Was it always going to be like this? Was she doing this on purpose?
“There is rain and heavy waves, but they affect nothing. You are unbreakable. You are all-powerful.”
“ffs,” Henry thought.
“This storm would weather most, but not you. The rock and debris around your core is being whittled away by time and the unstoppable force of nature, but the essence of your being is merely being revealed.”
“All this time and force will strip away the things that hold you down and reveal what is hidden beneath the cast of rock laid at your birth.”
It had been less than five minutes, but Henry’s bladder was about to explode.
Zi-Lor made eye contact before continuing.
“The golden essence of your being will be revealed only when you allow Yaldabaoth’s power to flow vigorously through you and strip away your imperfections.”
It was stripping away the things that made him human.
“Now, release yourself.”
Henry relaxed. He supposed there was nothing to be done with the power already inside him.
“More,” she instructed.
He released every particle of tension.
“All the way.”
Henry was unwilling, “I’m going to release more than just myself if I relax any further.”
“So let it go.”
Henry shrugged and pissed himself, but his pants didn’t become wet.
Zi-Lor lofted the refilled jar back into her chest.
Henry gave her a horrified expression.
She shrugged, “The power trickles down.”
But that didn’t make it any better.