10 Training and Magic
"Okay, let's start with a light warm up. Run 10 laps around the yard at a decent pace," Noir instructed.
The two, pent up with energy from doing nothing but talking the whole time, burst into a sprint and started to rush around the large grassy area at a frightening pace.
They were both pleasantly surprised at their own bodies and the boost they received from their Falna.
'I feel like I'm unleashing myself under the moon. I wonder how strong I would be if I beastified, now as a Level 1?'
"What the hell," Noir chuckled, watching the two small kids simulate a Formula 1 race. "They really are little monsters, aren't they? Even their basic abilities right after receiving Loki-sama's grace are insane."
"Mm," Riveria hummed in affirmation.
"They had a good foundation from the start which will treat them nicely. Even now as rookie Level 1s, they can probably match some veteran Level 1 in terms of pure stats."
Pant, pant
"Alright, what next?" Bete asked.
Ais finished a few seconds after him with a dissatisfied pout, her shorter legs proving to be a detriment in a race.
"Now that I've gotten a good look, I won't waste your time with exercises to improve your body at the point you two are at," Noir analyzed. "Instead, we'll focus more on technique and what to do in a dungeon."
"Oh yeah? How so?"
"Bete, I want you to do a 1 on 1 spar with Riveria-dono. Try your best to use your skills. The magic, you can hold off on until later," he instructed.
"Ah... about that, one of my skills only activates under specific conditions which I can't fulfill at the moment. And my other skill is kind of a passive effect that I always feel."
Noir blinked, then rubbed his chin for a little while.
"That's all right. Just try to improve your fighting and get used to your new power. If you can still manifest that passive skill of yours even further, it would be great. Meanwhile, Ais, you'll be with me."
The petite blonde nodded and ran towards the weapon rack to take another temporary sword.
"Oh that's right, we need to find you equipment! Why don't you two visit the Goibniu Familia tomorrow with Riveria-dono on your way to get registered?"
"Registered?" Bete repeated unfamiliarly.
"The Guild requires all new Adventurers to be registered. Don't worry, for you two, it'll just be your name, levels, and a picture."
"Hm. And this Goibniu Familia... are they any good?"
Noir chuckled loudly.
"Are they any good, you ask?! They may be a smaller, obscure Familia, but they match the top blacksmiths of the Hephaestus Familia in terms of quality. Rest assured, you won't be disappointed. We treat our rookies with more respect than that."
'That's good. Though I don't really use weapons, I can get some proper light armor or boots.'
"Anyways, lets get back to training! Off you go, Bete. Riveria-dono is waiting for you over there."
He pointed away in the distance where the green-haired Elf walked towards another section of the training grounds.
.
.
.
Bete walked behind Riveria some more until they found an empty clearing where the High Elf paused to study Bete's body.
"Do you mind telling me your skills? I don't mean to pry, but it would be helpful with the training."
"Nah, it doesn't really bother me," The Werewolf grunted. "I don't have much to hide anyways. I have two skills, one being an ability I already had that lets me strengthen under the moon, [Úlfheðinn], and-"
"Hold on," Riveria said, holding up a slender palm.
"Your skill isn't named [Beastification]?"
Bete blinked at the sudden question.
"No. Why?"
Riveria raised her thin, aristocratic brows with an interested expression.
"The name is truly different? I was under the impression that the Werewolf race all shared the same skill. At least, that's what a Werewolf acquaintance of mine who works at the Guild said."
"I'm not sure," Bete explained, scratching his head. "We didn't have Falna in our tribe so I wouldn't know. We just called it Beastification so it makes sense that it would be the name of the skill. I just don't know why mine is named weird."
"Hm... Fascinating," she noted.
"Well I suppose we'll find out in the future. Let's not worry about that for now. What's your other skill? This is the passive skill you were referring to?"
He nodded.
"It's called [Beastial Senses], and I'm assuming it enhances my senses based on its name."
He knew for sure what its effects were, but didn't want to reveal how he knew.
"Enhances how so?"
"Like I can smell things beyond what I should be able to smell. Like I could smell a Goddess on the streets, for instance."
Riveria gained a pensive look.
"Are you sure that's all? Usually, skills can have more than a few effects, especially with such a vague name. Senses can be applied to more than just smell. What about your tactile senses or ocular organs?"
"I-I don't know."
"Then let's find out."
The Elf took out her staff and swung it around in a rather aggressive way, finishing with the end pointed towards him.
"Come. Attack me."
"???"
'What? I know she's like a Level 5 and all that but...'
The corner of her beautiful lips twitched upwards.
"Oh? Are you perhaps underestimating me because I'm a frail, mage Elf?"
Bete flinched.
"Please. By all means, go ahead."
The Werewolf chewed his lips nervously.
"Alright... don't regret this!" he roared, charging with all of his speed towards the standing target.
To his shock, his accelerated fist only hit the metal of her staff, bouncing off painfully as Riveria nimbly twirled her staff and smacked the solid butt against Bete's exposed stomach.
"Kuukkk!"
The Werewolf shot back in a cloud of dust, tumbling cartoonishly along the way.
"What the fuck!" he managed to shout while finally stopping himself by slamming his boots into the ground, leaving a long trail of skid marks.
Riveria smirked at his disheveled look.
"The number one weakness of long-range magic users is close combat. A mage won't live long enough to become a High Class Adventurer if they can't solve that issue. I may look frail, but trust me, you won't be able to land even a single touch on me for a long, long time."
"Grr..."
Bete pushed on his knee and forced himself to stand up.
"Again!" he demanded.
"???"
The Elf seemed a tad confused by the Werewolf taking what should have been her line to say. Still, she managed a nod of approval.
"Haaah!"
Smack!
"Ow! Again!"
Crash!
"Shit! Again!"
Smash!
"Fuck! Again!"
The process painfully continued, Bete still not getting any closer to landing a blow with every try.
The training was effective, nonetheless. He could feel his approaches changing. His footwork was improving. His eyes were getting more used to her movements. His technique seemed more and more refined every time he rushed at her, even if it was only by a smidge. Was the growth just from getting acclimated to his new grace-given body? Whether it was because of that or another reason, Bete just wanted to reach this annoyingly agile woman who wielded a strength in her delicate body that simply seemed ridiculous.
'More... more... just a little more!'
Riveria, who noticed all of this, chose to remain quiet.
'At first, I was going to give him some advice, but it seems he won't need it. He's a rare talent. Someone who can grow from battles at a rapid pace while learning from his own mistakes without needing further advice. I'd only be hindering his growth by giving unneeded input.'
'Agghhh! Why is she so fast! I just... need... one!'
Then, Bete felt it. No, it was more like it was always there, but he could now sharply feel its change.
His amber eyes glowed harshly, concentrating with everything he had, all just to study Riveria's movements and watch the trajectory of the incoming swing of her staff that should have much too fast for a mere Level 1 to see.
Woosh!
And for the first time, Bete narrowly dodged the staff, instinctively bending backwards with his own expression filled with shock.
Caught off-guard by his purely impulsive movements, the Werewolf stumbled back, falling on his butt.
"W-what was that?" he quickly sat up to ask.
"Well," Riveria said, softly "It looks like we've answered our previous question. This skill of yours is much more useful than you initially assumed, even providing a boost to your combat senses. A sixth sense of sorts. And that, Bete, is why we start with this kind of training instead of immediately hopping into the dungeon."
'A sixth sense... Blackie, did you know about this when you were giving it to me?'
'Yeah... Sure, let's say I did.'
'. . . You had no idea what that skill was, did you?'
'Nope. Not a single damn clue. I just thought it sounded cool.'
'And what if it was some kind of weird passive skill that I could never get rid of?'
'...'
Sigh
'Whatever. At least you tried.'
Bete jumped up on his feet with a more excited look, turning towards the contemplating High Elf.
"Again!"
Keeping her approving thoughts in mind, Riveria unconsciously put some extra elbow grease into her next punishing staff smash.
Crack!
"..."
"Bete?"
.
.
.
After a few more rough smacking around, the duo decided to return to Noir and Ais. It was starting to get a little late, and sleep was also an important factor for their growing bodies.
"So..." Bete panted, sitting on the grassy lawn. His entire body that had been beaten full of bruises was now good as new, healed by one of Riveria's healing spells, [Fil Eldis]. Despite only being the weakest of her three healing magic, it erased Bete of any lasting injuries and wounds. "What about you? How did you join the Familia?"
He was asking the question towards the aged man in front of him who had trained Ais for the good majority of the day without too much trouble. Bete could tell he was an experienced veteran.
Noir shone a good-natured smile, sheathing his eastern blade. Ais stood off to the side, also beaten and battered like Bete.
"Stop squirming!" Riveria demanded, trying to get a good grasp on the blonde's thrashing wrist.
"I'm trying to heal you, not hurt you!"
The Werewolf and the swordsman amusedly watched the animated scene.
"The Loki Familia isn't my first Familia. In fact, many Adventurers switch or lose Familia throughout their career. As for myself, I traveled here from the Far East and joined a small Familia, The Boreas Familia. It never grew beyond 10 or so members, but we made a name for ourselves by working hard and sticking together. For a good few years, it was fun. I reached Level 3, a great achievement for a small Familia, and led my comrades with pride."
His nostalgic smile then turned rather gloomy.
"Then, things changed. Boreas-sama became more distant. Our members drifted off one by one and followed their own routes. Eventually... Boreas-sama left Orario leaving just me and a handful of others."
The experienced veteran laughed humorlessly.
"I guess I should be thankful that it wasn't too painful of a breakup. I've heard of many other Familias ending much more messily. Compared to them, ours was a clean cut."
Bete narrowed his fierce eyes.
"I think it's stupid to compare your pain to others. What, just because others feel more pain, you don't get to complain? Screw them, I want to complain as much as I want. I don't care if a tiny Familia in the corner of Orario is suffering, that doesn't mean I have to shut my mouth and bear with my own suffering!"
"That's..." Noir was at a sudden lack of words for the small Werewolf. "That's quite selfish of you, Bete."
Despite his harsh words, Noir wore a bizarre smile on his wrinkled face.
"Thank you."
'Is he senile? Why is he criticizing me then thanking me?'
"It's been years since then, but I met my good friends, Bara and Dain. We met by coincidence, but we were inseparable ever since. Then, about two decades ago, a ragtag group of Adventurers led by Finn-dono and Loki-sama arrived in Orario and asked us to join them. I saw much potential in them so I convinced the other two to join me as well. And that's pretty much the abridged version of how I joined the Loki Familia."
Bete leered at him with furrowed brows.
"Hmm... I think there's still some more interesting stuff there, old man. I'm gonna have to remind you to tell me more details later."
"Ha ha! It's been a while since someone asked me to tell my tale with such an interested gaze! Young blood is truly refreshing. Very well, when we find the time after you get settled with everything, I will tell you about my entire journey spanning decades."
"I'll make sure your senile brain doesn't forget it."
"You disrespectful punk," Noir teasingly scolded. "If intelligence was a basic ability, I would be leagues ahead of your prepubescent intellect!"
"Oh yeah? Try me!"
". . . Bwa! Ha ha ha ha! I haven't met someone so ballsy in some time! You're either going to grow up as the biggest loudmouth disappointment, or the best of the best."
"..."
The Werewolf mulled over Noir's words, wondering if they were true. But in the end, it didn't matter what other people predicted or assumed. He knew what he was going to do, and nothing would stop him.
"I won't stop until I reach the peak. That's a guarantee to you, the Familia, and myself," Bete vowed, punching the sky with a closed fist.
"Hmm..."
Noir stroked his gray beard
"You said you had a magic, correct?"
Bete nodded.
"Do you want to try it out?"
". . . Now? What about what you said about holding it off until later?"
The man spread his arms.
"Welcome to 'later.' Ready when you are."
'What are you waiting for kid? The sooner you get used to using your magic, the better. You wanted strength, now go take it!'
Complying, Bete stepped forward and took a deep breath.
From the sidelines, Riveria and a newly-healed Ais watched with interested looks.
"So, uh, how do I use magic? Do I just shout out the name?"
"Eh? Don't be foolish, Bete. Magic rarely has its own name as its active trigger. Instant no-chant magic like that is very rare. A Level 1 rookie shouldn't be able to use it, much less obtain it."
Small Cottage Far Away From Orario
"A-a-achoo!" a white-haired, 5 year old boy sneezed.
"Why did I sneeze? It's not even winter. I don't feel sick..."
"Wa ha ha! Someone must be talking about you behind your back!" a thunderously loud voice announced.
Training Grounds, Twilight Manor
"Anyhoo, Riveria-dono is more of an expert on the subject of magic than myself. I'm just here to make sure you don't kill youself or cause an Ignis Fatuus or a Mind Down."
"Igni-what? What are those things you just said?"
"Ignis Fatuus is an unintentional self-explosion caused by magic power going out of control. Mind Down is a condition where the user expends too much Mind and falls unconscious," Riveria succinctly explained. "Out of the two, I'd much prefer you to fall for the latter."
Bete shivered.
"And... you just want me to dive into this without any experience?"
Riveria and Noir bobbed their heads up and down as if it were obvious.
"Like I saw, experience is the best teacher."
"Noir-san is right. All the books and knowledge in the world can't give you the same experience that physically trying the action can."
"Okay, so if shouting the name isn't how I activate it, then how do I do it?"
The Elf stepped closer to Bete, not taking her eyes off his body.
"You're going to first start by imagining your magic. Whatever it takes to visualize, spark it into action. We can work on the rest afterwards."
"Just... imagine it?" he skeptically repeated.
"Imagination and creativity are important catalysts for magic. Half of the challenge of using magic is in your own head, I like to say."
"All right? I can give it a go."
Closing his eyes, Bete let his mind have free acess to his magic, [Hati].
'My Status said that it would enchant my body with fire. There was also something about raising its strength, but I don't have to worry about that now. Baby steps. Imagine the magic... imagine the mana flowing through your veins... fire... powerful fire that can destroy all defenses...'
Spark
Noir, Riveria, and Ais all watched with wide eyes.
'Unstoppable flames that I can wield and will... Yes... Come to me. Embrace my body!"
Flash!
"You're doing it, Bete!" Riveria called out. "Now just spew out whatever comes to mind, even if it makes no sense at the moment!"
He didn't even know what was happening at this point. It was like a ghost possessed his mouth and vocal cords. Words that both sounded like gibberish and Godly hymns emanated from his throat.
"{Fjötraður Fros. Fyrsta sárið, Gelgja. Annað sárið, Gjöll. Þriðja sárið, Þviti. Hrafnandi þrællinn þín eina von. Megi það mynda á, sem blandast í blóðrásina, til að skola burt tárin þín. Aldrei gleyma þessum óbætanlegu sárum. Þessi reiði og hatur, veikindi þín og glóandi. Fordæmdu heiminn, viðurkenndu örlögin og þerraðu tár þín..."
(Translation: Chained Fros. The first wound, Gelgja. The second wound, Gjöll. The third wound, Þviti. The ravenous slaver your only hope. May it form a river, mixing in the tide of blood, to wash away your tears. Never forget those irreparable wounds. This rage and hatred, thine infirmity and incandescence. Denounce the world, acknowledge fate, and dry thy tears...)
With each passing second of mindless chanting, Riveria and Noir's eyes widened.
It was common knowledge that the longer the chant, the more powerful the magic. Even by Riveria's standards and experience, this was already one of the longest chants she had heard, yet Bete wasn't even finished!
Meanwhile, on the gray-maned Werewolf's hazily conscious side, he felt something pricking at his soul. The barely coherent words he spewed seemed like a warning bells that were screaming at him to stop. But he couldn't stop now, after all this effort.
"... Megi sársaukinn verða vígtennur þínar, harmakvein þín öskur - og týndir félagar þínir styrkur þinn. Losaðu þig við fjötrana sem binda þig og losaðu brjálaða vælið þitt. Ó fjandskaparætt, biðjið, notaðu þetta ker og etið tunglið, drekktu ágirnilega úr yfirfullum bikar þess. Berðu vígtennur þínar — og etið allt!}"
(... May the pain become your fangs, the lament your roar—and your lost companions your strength. Free yourself of the chains that bind you, and release your mad howl. O lineage of enmity, pray use this vessel and devour the moon, drink greedily from its overflowing cup. Bare your fangs—and devour all!)
SHAAA!
Crimson flames burst from his body, particularly his hands and feet — perfect for his style of fighting. Each reddish-orange magical fire was hot, yet felt bearable against his skin. Mana coursed through his veins, pumping his magic with each passing second.
Bete grinned, baring his canines with pride. He was doing it! He was using magic! He was... He was-
Not even a few seconds passed after his success before he heard a soft, familiar voice echo in his head.
'Brother... Help me...'
The Werewolf's control instantly collapsed like a rickety, wooden wall against a steel battering ram. His pupils dilated and his wolfish face paled.
'Bete... don't run away from us...'
He fell on to his knees, the magical flames that had felt comfortable before now feeling much too hot. But the burning heat barely registered in his mind.
Riveria and Noir could tell something was greatly wrong at this point.
"Bete! What's going on?!"
"Bete?! Hey! Talk to us, kid!"
'What's going on?!'
Even Ais stood up, her golden eyes petrified.
"What... the fuck..." the boy managed to huff.
He was groaning painfully, trying his best to maintain his magic while shutting off his auditory senses. But the voices didn't fade.
'Bete... a strong leader never runs away, nor does he leave his tribe alone.'
'Bete, take care of your sister for me, okay?'
'Bete, let's go hunting!'
'Bete!'
'Bete.'
'Bete~'
'Bete?'
'BETE!'
"BETE!!!"
Finally, the clear, worried voice shocked him out of his panic.
When he weakly opened his eyes, Bete saw the faint white glow of Riveria's healing magic.
"What... happened?" he croaked.
"You tell us. It seemed to be going just fine, you were chanting like a veteran mage, and then you just suddenly keeled over and fainted. You look like you've been through hell, Bete. Are you okay?"
Noir's voice was filled with unease and concern, his dark brown eyes half covered by squinting eyebrows.
"I..." Bete gasped. "I'm not using that shit again. Ever."
They all looked at him anxiously, understandably having some things to say — perhaps an argument that he shouldn't quit so early, but they soon backed off.
"..."
Ais shyly walked up to him and handed him the smaller half of a Jagamarukun.
'This squirt... she can't even give me a full one?'
Still, he couldn't keep the joyous mirth from his thoughts. It was nice to see that the quiet girl cared about him enough that she would even part ways with some of her prized Jagamarukun.
"Very well," Riveria responded gently. "There are many Adventurers that make it far without using any magic. We won't force you to do anything you don't want to do, Bete. Take things at your own pace. For now, you and Ais should head back to your rooms. I trust you two can find you way back?"
He nodded, still a bit stiff from the horrendous incident.
"We can go back ourselves. You don't need to cover our asses to that extent."
Ais also softly pumped her fists in an 'I-can-do-it!' attitude.
The two rookies slowly trotted back inside Twilight Manor, one of them clearly still thinking hard about what just occurred.
"It's a shame," Noir clicked his teeth at the disappearing shadows of the young duo. "With his raw talent combined with his magic... he could have perhaps, no, he would have definitely exceeded Ottar. It would only have been a matter of time."
Riveria gracefully closed her eyes.
"While I do share your opinions, we would never force him to use magic that so obviously brings him such pain. We would be monsters to do so."
The weathered swordsman nodded.
"Let's keep this between you and me for now. Maybe Finn-dono and Loki-sama, but otherwise-"
"Yes, I agree. For Bete's protection."
"Mm."
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.
.
Top of Babel Tower
Sitting at the peak of Babel, far from anyone's sight, a Goddess beautiful enough to redefine the word, 'beauty,' watched the amusing scene with a faint smile.
"My dear little wolf, we'll be seeing each other more often. Although..." Freya's vibrant purple pupils dilated with a trace of annoyance. "To think you rejected my offer and went to join Loki. I won't let you off without a little punishment."
