He froze as he considered that question. She had a point. He was training as he was for those who were unable to save themselves. When he willingly took risks on the obstacle course, his thoughts weren’t about making amends – they were mainly about Emily and the others who were victims of this insane competition. Not just the people he knew, but the loved ones of those who had fought and had already made the ultimate sacrifice. Thor, Sven, and Michael, to name a few. He had to strive for those they loved as well. It was about more than him. It was about all that was good in the world.
“No; it changes nothing.” He admitted. “But, good lord, all that guilt, and ultimately there was nothing I could have done to change anything.”
“I feel for you.” April said her voice cracking slightly. “I do, and I’m glad this conversation can lift your undeserved guilt. I wish I had mentioned something earlier.” She sighed. “I didn’t realise how much the idea was eating at you. I’m sorry. I should have said something sooner. Please, forgive me.”
Tom shook his head. “No. There’s no need. I understand.” Then he glanced at his clipboard and back up at April. He didn’t want to think about what had just been revealed. A year of blaming himself had been proven in a moment to have been wasted effort. He waved the clipboard at her. “And is this version considered trash in comparison to other tier-one options?”
She snorted at his blatant attempt to change the subject. “No, it’s a good one. Not peak, but a normal level. You can’t see it in the description, but it’s not just magic shield-breaking that’s got a boost. It’s all round better than what you had last life through Spear mastery.”
“What would something like this need, to get it pushed to peak?”
“A physical boost as well.” She seemed uninterested in the conversation. “Don’t bother trying, though. I’m sure it’ll happen naturally. But, Tom, you can’t run from your feelings.”
“I’m not running. But they’re not relevant to right now, are they? It feels like a great weight has been lifted from me.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
She considered his reaction for a moment. “You’re impossible, you know that.” She waved her hand, and the text on the clipboard he still held rearranged itself to display the Instant Strike skill instead of his version of Power Strike. “Well, if you don’t want to talk, then there’s no time like the present to concentrate on advancing.”
He grimaced. “Great, so what does this skill training look like?”
“It’s not going to be any more pleasant than anything else you’ve done, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He frowned. “Let me guess. More randomly subjecting me to pain and claiming it’s the fastest way to teach me. Oh, my fluttering heart, be still.”
“Sarcasm duly noted. You do know you get mean when you’re emotionally upset, don’t you?”
“Fuck you, I don’t.”
She pretended to flinch backward, as though his outburst had scared her, and then cracked a smile. “Grumpy pants.”
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He couldn’t help it, and laughed along with her. It was hard to keep an even keel after that kind of a revelation.
“But no, this won’t be painful. However, it’s probably going to be the worse yet.”
He raised an eyebrow at that. The processes of gaining both his Living Wood and his Precognition skills had been horrible. “Worse than what I’ve already done?”
“Maybe. This training manual involves complete sensory deprivation and having you practise thousands of quick strikes.”
It sounded very similar to what he had been forced to do for Power Strike. “That can’t be that bad.”
“I’m talking about total sensory removal. Over time, I’ll be disabling the nerves that give feedback from your arms, legs, back muscles, and, toward the end, all of you. You’ll continue doing the strikes, but it’ll be maddening,” she bit her lower lip. “There are effective torture techniques that do less. Your only job will be to keep the strikes up. Just like with Power Strike, eventually you’ll switch to using the skill for every blow. That’s when the torture aspect gets reduced.”
He wrinkled his nose as he attempted to imagine what she was describing. “And that works?”
“Most people can’t learn this way, not even with the aid of a dedicated trial like this one. I’m gambling on your being a unique case. Fate, which is a ridiculous cheat, will help, but the main reason I’m willing to try this is you. The speed with which you’re acquiring skills…” she shook her head. “If that was indicative of your species, it would have been terrifying for the whole of Existentia. Luckily, you’re a special cookie with lots of asterixis against your name. The biggest of them is your precognition affinity. That’s… Let’s just say it’s great that you’ve got that.”
“And if everyone else is doomed to fail, what’re my chances?”
“I can’t estimate it. The rest of the orphanage population, I might give them a ten percent chance.”
“And the cost of the attempt isn’t refundable, is it?”
“No, it’s not. But for most, I push them toward things that can be trained with more certainty. As for you, I think it’s as high as seventy percent. If you haven’t got it within three months, we’ll call it a loss and move on.”
“I’m not investing three months then giving up. That’s stupid.”
April shook her head. “Yes, you will. Your objection is just a sunk cost fallacy talking. After a month of training, the chance of getting the skill at any specific moment is at its maximum. After that, the likelihood declines steadily, until at the three-month point you’ve got so little chance you might as well give up and focus your energy elsewhere. On this, you’ll have to trust me. I’m in charge of your training, and I’m right. We’re not debating this anymore.” She gave him a fake grin. “Now, remember to practice your spear thrusts.”
Suddenly, he found himself unable to see or hear. He could feel the spear in his hands and a firm floor under him, but that was all.
“Relax and practice spear attacks,” April said, sounding like she was well clear of him. “And don’t just do straight thrusts - you need to do different angles, including a downwards one. You won’t hit the floor by accident.”
He immediately tested that claim, and, sure enough, his spear cut through air below his feet. In the pure blackness, it gave him a moment of pure vertigo. He stumbled, didn’t fall, and stabilised. Breathing heavily, he tapped the ground with the butt of his spear, and it was all there, solid and continuous.
Tom swallowed and then did an experiment. He tapped a spot, then thrust the spear down into the hard ground. The weapon touched nothing, and, when he checked again; the floor was still there. He tested it again and confirmed that it was only when he made a thrust that the ground vanished. It was exactly like April had told him, but that didn’t make it any less disconcerting.
The effect was weird, but, confident of his safety, he got to work, doing exactly what April had told him to do. It was perturbing, not being able to see anything, but he stabbed the spear in multiple directions and angles. There were no sensory inputs - not even a light breeze on his skin when he moved, or the swish of the weapon through the air.
The training felt as though he was in a dream, but he trusted in April’s methods and continued striking out, despite the lack of tactile feedback. Between the thrusts, he used his magic to address the buildup of lactic acid.