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3.42. The Cult

42. THE CULT

We have a wild night of celebrating Wolvsden and its people. When the party dies down, I return to cultivating. We have five days before Bones and I leave for the Greater Shadow Realm. By then, Wolvsden will be complete, and work on the Golden Coast and North Coast can begin in full.

At night, I am able to sink all of my attention into cultivating, with most of my focus on mind manipulation. Every night, whether I'm on the second floor of the training grounds or in the wilderness, I push my mental manipulations to the limit, creating new challenges as soon as I master the last challenge. I also try to improve my mental links and communication and feel comfortable extracting information without people being aware. Nette and Noth have taken time out of their classes to help.

The two mind mages have been busy of late. Noth has lit a fire in the heralds in Cru's spider legion, leading them to more devoted worship and convincing them to cultivate mind mana. Under Noth's direction, a temple is built in the living district for the Cult of Cru to practice and perfect the arts of the mind — all in the name of worship.

When Nette isn't researching, teaching, or tutoring with Glimmer, she's in the temple helping Noth train hundreds of spiders. The town has openly accepted Cru's zealots, even creating a giant statue of the goblin in his temple. Our mind zealots swear to only root out serious threats. The danger of having a hundred spiders manipulating our minds is not lost on any of us. Fortunately, Nette and Noth have provided mandatory training on how to protect our minds from mental attacks.

During the day, I take all the mind lessons I can and regularly attend training in the temple and on the second floor of the training grounds. Unlike the spiders, who seem to be natural mind readers, my talents plateau. My skill in mind is levitation, which continues to grow.

Like Gene's clone cultivating in my shadow, my secondary focus constantly lifts and suspends items in the air during the day. I can go an entire day holding loose pants up with my mind. Though it's a silly practice, its technique pushes me past barriers. On the third day of keeping my pants up, I can switch the task to my passive focus and use the secondary focus on harder tasks, like carrying mana infused balls.

Mornings are still devoted to physical training. Duals have gone beyond just Roxi and Fury. Now, half of the town arrives at the training grounds for morning fights. Gene wasn't lying when she said people were eager to fight me when I got back. In fact, every morning, I have a new challenge. Some fights, we go all out with mana, but most, we settle for mana restrictions and focus on our physical skills alone.

The later practice has become a bit of a town obsession. Spiders, veterans, youngsters, a few lycan teens, and others are fanatically interested in who wins which fight. Stats are collected. Rankings are established, and a new Cult of the Sword is growing. It's a silly practice, but it motivates most of the town to train, so I go along with it. Currently, I hold the number one rank. Sylva is number two, and Lana is right behind her. Gaining ground quickly is Colby. The king has been putting forth the effort to improve his brawler techniques, and I imagine he'll be in the top twenty before the end of the month. Cru has shocked many and landed at the eighteenth rank.

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It's pretty funny to see swords being laid at people's feet throughout the day and then to watch the accepted challenges occur the next morning. The town's talk is often about who's fighting who and the results of the last fight.

With the Cult of the Sword becoming so popular, my afternoons are now spent attempting to teach others my techniques. I'm a terrible teacher, but people are eager to learn and are patient throughout my instructions.

After teaching, I visit Gene's clone in my shadow, and we work through my spiritual cultivation using the mana-rich environment of the Training Grounds' third floor. The clone is every bit as knowledgeable as Gene and just as passionate about sharing her knowledge, which isn't surprising because Gene's clone is Gene.

When I get breaks during the day, I visit with as many townspeople as possible. I'm getting better at casual conversation, or at least not caring so much about my blunders. Most of the time, I find the conversations to be engaging. The trick is finding what people care about, learning why they care, and asking all the questions on that topic. It works wonders when I can direct the questions. My responses fall short when people try to turn the table and ask me questions. I tell myself I'm a work in progress and try not to dwell on my shortcomings.

Meal times run long, but I always find time in the day for a swim or two. Sometimes, I'm alone, and other times, I'm joined by others. Lana seems to enjoy swimming as much as I do, and I find myself interrupting her sessions. She never stops me from joining, which I gratefully accept.

Adventuring and exploring are at an all-time high, too. At least once a day, I join a party to explore the woods and mountains and eliminate threats like demons and spirit beasts. Occasionally, I take shifts on guard duty. However, that is more of an excuse to talk with Samuel and his friends, who practically live on the wall.

They are a lighthearted, loyal bunch that takes joy in the simplicity of their task. Their constant laughter makes me miss the friendships I might've had. At the same time, it makes me excited for the new friendships I'm building. Some critique Sam and his guards do more laughing than watching. The watchers simply remind everyone that there have been zero attacks since they have been on duty.

I fall into a comfortable routine, and five days fly by. Our builders are now looking at the market and housing coasts, and the den has less work on it every day. Tomorrow is the unveiling of our Guild Hall, and there will be a big celebration to follow. The day after, Bones and I leave for the shadow realm. With how much fun I've been having, I'm sad I'm about to leave town for who knows how long.