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#ACTION
#ADVENTURE
#REINCARNATION
#R18
#MYSTERY
#DARK
#SUPERPOWERS
#CULTIVATION
#TRAGEDY
#HISTORICAL

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling

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#ACTION
#ADVENTURE
#REINCARNATION
#R18
#MYSTERY
#DARK
#SUPERPOWERS
#CULTIVATION
#TRAGEDY
#HISTORICAL

Fate

A month passed like this before I finally felt something foreign intrude on my mana sense.

I rescinded it immediately after verifying it was a wondering beast.

I stopped my experiments and tinkering with metals and retrieved my leather armor.

"Isla, the beast tide is here," I told her.

I didn't want to train since so many new beasts would be coming to the glades, and being in the best condition was imperative.

"Let's begin the hunt," I said to her.

I leave the horses and cart in the lake.

I had filled half of it with soil and a layer of grass, leaving fruit and raw meat for the skiles to graze.

I even turned on the generator so they would not be stuck in the dark, and I installed a heater for the frigid temperature.

As we head out, we check all the bunkers we made and the supplies we left.

I even activate mana vision; my paranoia is still ever present.

We hunt during the day and retreat to our hideout or temporary bunkers at night.

Isla would smoke the meat, and I would tinker with different metals, experimenting with how mana flows through them.

Isla never lagged in her physical training; I could tell by how confident her movements were.

She didn't expunge any impurities, but it seemed as if she was calmer than before.

Her fighting became more calculated, thinking two or three steps ahead of the beasts we were engaging.

We were fighting a sizeable scorpion-type monster, with the top of a humanoid and the bottom of a scorpion, a hideous human with four eyes, two layered on top of the other.

It screeched when it attacked and used mana tendrils to try and wrap around us.

Instead of finishing it off quickly, I let Isla take charge.

She parried each attack by the scorpion's tail with her blade and dodged when she could, the whole time throwing rocks at its face,

The beast kept smacking them away with its tail, not bothering to dodge.

Once Isla adapted to this rhythm, she flung her dagger behind the rock. When the beast swatted it aside and struck down its tail, it was confronted with a dagger to the face.

Howling in pain, it didn't notice Isla locking its tail down with mana and rushing it, decapitating it in one smooth motion.

At this time, I also switched weapons to a standard one-handed sword.

Due to the constant exposure to our energy, our weapons became rusted and worn; luckily, I took the opportunity to make some new ones with silver mixed into the iron.

I used this beast tide to familiarize myself with the weapon. Although there was a difference in range and weight, I could accommodate it smoothly after a few nights of combat.

I keep my mana sense up throughout the day and night, only leaving me that small window after hunting to get some sleep, but it is more than enough for me,

Four hours of sleep a day left me refreshed and ready.

During the second week of the beast tide, one corner of our living area was stacked with pelts needing tanning, while another corner was filled with high-quality leather, not just the usual kind.

Different Organs and bones were stored in stone jars, which I used for study material.

Time flows, and we get used to the busy schedule.

Isla and I were chatting on a tall hill about twenty miles west of our hide, waiting for another wave to come by.

"I still believe that toilet is amazing. Can you picture having one at the inn we're staying in?" She smiles at me, her big brown eyes sparkling with excitement.

Among all my inventions, she loved the toilet the most as it spared her the effort of flying nearly a mile to relieve herself, a task she still finds quite challenging.

I make her do it to get her used to mana control and flight.

I ask myself how many people on earth would trade a toilet for a chance to fly.

Laughing inwardly, I know I was not one of those people.

At that time, unless it involved a new strain of virus or vaccine, I barely looked up from my desk.

Suddenly, I felt a mana-armored figure rushing swiftly directly southwest of our location.

"We have trouble," I said, my face becoming stern.

However, almost six of these figures were moving soon, and I couldn't discern their shapes because the mana surrounding them made them appear as if they were encased in an eggshell.

I head directly west to cut them off and to see what we are dealing with.

I mask my mana to avoid detection before sprinting toward our designated collision point.

"Don't use mana," I warned her.

I was waiting behind a gnarled cliff that lay flat on the ground when a figure appeared in my view. Rather than running past me, it started approaching our position.

"Get ready for contact," I said calmly.

The figure sent its mana out, trying to surround and crush us.

I retreat, jumping as far back as possible, even using mana to create a stepping stone in the air, getting out of the entanglement.

Isla follows behind, but pressure presses us back to the ground.

I see the emerging figure of a Sylph wrapped in mana and a white robe.

This was male, and I could tell by his broad shoulders and ugly sneer across his pale face.

'No wonder they saw me.' Sylph augments their vision with mana and can see the mana fluctuations. Even if masked, it looks like shimmer to them.

He maintained his speed and rushed us because he couldn't isolate us while my energy dispersed and blended with his.

He wielded a grey bone-like spear coated with mana.

He aimed it at Isla; like any good hunter, he would kill the weak of the herd.

Pivoting my left leg, my arm swung forward, and my dagger was sent flying with me, following close behind.

I push the dagger with mana again, messing up his timing and forcing him to stop to deal with the immediate threat.

After he dodged, I was within melee range.

I was relieved to have transitioned to a regular sword since distance mattered greatly in combat against a spear wielder.

If I wielded a short sword, I wouldn't dare get close.

I could easily blow this man-fish to smithereens right now, but I shouldn't reveal my trump card until the group arrives to eliminate them all at once. If they scatter, I'm finished.

It didn't help that this man-fish was the fastest opponent I have ever faced.

He slashed and thrust faster than I, and his reach was twice as long; his spear striking my shoulder opened a wound down to my chest, my leather armor doing little to protect me.

Barely missing a thrust by a hairsbreadth, I attempted to backflip, but a second thrust made me duck and roll instead.

We disengage from each other's violent onslaught, neither of us panting very hard, but a few nicks are present near his vitals.

A streak of blood dripped down from my forehead to my nose, then to my chin, along with a wide diagonal slash across my chest.

Adding my shoulder wound, I was on the losing end of this little scrimmage.

Luckily it didn't impact my vision, he must have caught me when rolling back.

I felt it, and then all the figures surrounded us and closed in slowly.

I wait for them, brandishing my sword to get the blood off of it as I got him good across his thigh.

I start snapping my fingers, igniting balls of fire wrapped in oxygen. The man-fish appears startled and instinctively tries to back away, but I won't allow it.

Right before I send my balls to a fiery death, dropping on all the targets, I hear something that makes me stop.

"Runt," a melodic voice I recognized reached my ears.

Turning my head, I see Mislin wrapped in mana, looking at me with the same shimmering eyes and mischievous grin.

"It seems that we are fated, little one."

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