Chapter 184: The First Generation(4)
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"Well, how was it?" mockingly questioned Reve.
Dorian could not answer that question as he was too engrossed in dealing with the constant tremors in his body. That, in itself, was a form of an answer.
"The nature pillars were imbued with a special enchantment called the [Brand of Nemesis]. This enchantment allows the pillar to store the force of your attack and send it back to upon next contact," explained Reve.
He jumped down from the tree and moved closer to a nature pillar. There, he sent forth a simple punch.
*Thud!*
Of course, his "simple" punch was not so simple. For the first time, the gang of thieves saw the nature pillar tremble with such intensity. Even the ground shook a little bit.
However, that was not the point.
In less than a second, Reve punched again. This time, the aftereffects of his attacks were much more disastrous than the previous one. The natural pillar remained unbroken as it was protected by Reve's enchantment, but the ground slightly opened to form cracks.
Reve ignored that and gave a final punch, still within the one-second range. His punch widened the cracks on the earthen surface and some of the sensitive thieves could feel the weak vibrations in the ground.
Taking advantage of their silence, Reve divulged, "This will be your training. One of blood and sweat. One that would make you beg for death."
"The training is simple. Keep punching the nature pillars. Each successive punch has to carry a greater force than the previous punch. Each attack is an upgrade, a forceful upgrade as if you fail to surpass the previous punch, your bones would be injected with the force behind your punches. You would be basically punching yourself. Of course, this is too easy for you. So, upon failure, I made sure the force injected into your body would be amplified."
"In essence, your bones would quake and your skeletal frame might even receive permanent damage. There is no doubt that this training could lead to death."
Reve cooly said, "You said you are not scared of death. So, prove it to me now. Face death and come out anew. Your training begins now. You are officially the first generation of the Amethyst Style."
His words managed to raise the heartbeats of the thieves.
If they understood correctly, Kimon was offering them a chance at a glorious purpose.
He was offering them a position as the disciple of the style he uses victoriously against his foes.
All this while, their lives had been mundane. It was all theft for them. The joy of the younger days had left them as they realized they were forever trapped in this rogue lifestyle, but...…
Now, they could become something else....someone else. Kimon never promised this would be a magical process or an immediate evolution. It would surely take a long time to master a style. Yet, for once in their life, they put down their savagery and earnestly complied with Kimon's instructions.
Seeing the entire gang of thieves picking a nature pillar for themselves, Reve revealed a rare warm smile.
'Well, this was totally random. But I seem to have made an excellent decision. To think the first generation would start here...…'
Feeling invigorated, he quickly shook his head and went to advise those that failed the training on their second punch.
'Yeah, it would not be easy.'
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
—---------- The Forgotten Peaks —---------------
The Forgotten Peaks was one of the few mountainous regions in Starhold, situated near the vast land that protruded out of the city.
As for why it was named as such, it was because the mountains of this region frequently discharged a red breeze that was poisonous to any living being. With this type of harsh environment, there was no way that anyone in their right mind would think of staying here.
However, at this particular time, in a large building structure built on one of the mountains, a group of humans conversed.
"I am of the opinion that it is time to expand the varieties of my potion."
The voice belonged to a man covered in a black cloak and grey bandages wrapped around his head. The people he addressed were across the table where he was currently seated.
"Oh, Alchemist, should I assume that you have conquered most of the side-effects of your base potion?" asked one of the other men.
The other individuals seated at the table glanced at the person called Alchemist. What the Alchemist casually said was a matter of great importance.
The Alchemist responded with a croaked voice, "I have not made any progress. The issue of side effects cannot be tackled easily. I would need adequate time to translate words of an old journal to normal Arcadian. I plan on making do with what I have now."
Once again, the obese man on the other side opposed him, "If you have not dealt with the side-effects of your potions, I'm afraid there is little we can do–"
He was quickly interrupted by a brown-haired middle age man, "Now, Now, Toka. Our customers love his potions. They like feeling the closeness of death that it gives them. Cut Alchemist some slack, let him do what he wants to do. Anyway, he has our blessing."
"And that, there, is the problem. He shouldn't have free reins over what to do with our blessing. Who knows whether his next potions would be as successful as this one," mocked Toka.
Some other individuals on the table aligned with Toka's thoughts. While the minority held the same opinion as the brown-haired middle-aged man, Daniel.
Daniel's lips curled strangely to form a sneer, "You make no sense, Toka. The Black Market thrives because of the blessing we give to young upstarts. Alchemist has proven himself to be a cut above the rest. So, what is wrong with funding him? It seems like you have brought personal opinions into our field of business."
"Yo—You!" shouted Toka.
Yet, he could say nothing as he had not a single good point to counter that. What Daniel said was true, but he would die before admitting it.
Toka's face swiftly changed, and he hissed, "Where is the feast?"
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"Well, how was it?" mockingly questioned Reve.
Dorian could not answer that question as he was too engrossed in dealing with the constant tremors in his body. That, in itself, was a form of an answer.
"The nature pillars were imbued with a special enchantment called the [Brand of Nemesis]. This enchantment allows the pillar to store the force of your attack and send it back to upon next contact," explained Reve.
He jumped down from the tree and moved closer to a nature pillar. There, he sent forth a simple punch.
*Thud!*
Of course, his "simple" punch was not so simple. For the first time, the gang of thieves saw the nature pillar tremble with such intensity. Even the ground shook a little bit.
However, that was not the point.
In less than a second, Reve punched again. This time, the aftereffects of his attacks were much more disastrous than the previous one. The natural pillar remained unbroken as it was protected by Reve's enchantment, but the ground slightly opened to form cracks.
Reve ignored that and gave a final punch, still within the one-second range. His punch widened the cracks on the earthen surface and some of the sensitive thieves could feel the weak vibrations in the ground.
Taking advantage of their silence, Reve divulged, "This will be your training. One of blood and sweat. One that would make you beg for death."
"The training is simple. Keep punching the nature pillars. Each successive punch has to carry a greater force than the previous punch. Each attack is an upgrade, a forceful upgrade as if you fail to surpass the previous punch, your bones would be injected with the force behind your punches. You would be basically punching yourself. Of course, this is too easy for you. So, upon failure, I made sure the force injected into your body would be amplified."
"In essence, your bones would quake and your skeletal frame might even receive permanent damage. There is no doubt that this training could lead to death."
Reve cooly said, "You said you are not scared of death. So, prove it to me now. Face death and come out anew. Your training begins now. You are officially the first generation of the Amethyst Style."
His words managed to raise the heartbeats of the thieves.
If they understood correctly, Kimon was offering them a chance at a glorious purpose.
He was offering them a position as the disciple of the style he uses victoriously against his foes.
All this while, their lives had been mundane. It was all theft for them. The joy of the younger days had left them as they realized they were forever trapped in this rogue lifestyle, but...…
Now, they could become something else....someone else. Kimon never promised this would be a magical process or an immediate evolution. It would surely take a long time to master a style. Yet, for once in their life, they put down their savagery and earnestly complied with Kimon's instructions.
Seeing the entire gang of thieves picking a nature pillar for themselves, Reve revealed a rare warm smile.
'Well, this was totally random. But I seem to have made an excellent decision. To think the first generation would start here...…'
Feeling invigorated, he quickly shook his head and went to advise those that failed the training on their second punch.
'Yeah, it would not be easy.'
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
—---------- The Forgotten Peaks —---------------
The Forgotten Peaks was one of the few mountainous regions in Starhold, situated near the vast land that protruded out of the city.
As for why it was named as such, it was because the mountains of this region frequently discharged a red breeze that was poisonous to any living being. With this type of harsh environment, there was no way that anyone in their right mind would think of staying here.
However, at this particular time, in a large building structure built on one of the mountains, a group of humans conversed.
"I am of the opinion that it is time to expand the varieties of my potion."
The voice belonged to a man covered in a black cloak and grey bandages wrapped around his head. The people he addressed were across the table where he was currently seated.
"Oh, Alchemist, should I assume that you have conquered most of the side-effects of your base potion?" asked one of the other men.
The other individuals seated at the table glanced at the person called Alchemist. What the Alchemist casually said was a matter of great importance.
The Alchemist responded with a croaked voice, "I have not made any progress. The issue of side effects cannot be tackled easily. I would need adequate time to translate words of an old journal to normal Arcadian. I plan on making do with what I have now."
Once again, the obese man on the other side opposed him, "If you have not dealt with the side-effects of your potions, I'm afraid there is little we can do–"
He was quickly interrupted by a brown-haired middle age man, "Now, Now, Toka. Our customers love his potions. They like feeling the closeness of death that it gives them. Cut Alchemist some slack, let him do what he wants to do. Anyway, he has our blessing."
"And that, there, is the problem. He shouldn't have free reins over what to do with our blessing. Who knows whether his next potions would be as successful as this one," mocked Toka.
Some other individuals on the table aligned with Toka's thoughts. While the minority held the same opinion as the brown-haired middle-aged man, Daniel.
Daniel's lips curled strangely to form a sneer, "You make no sense, Toka. The Black Market thrives because of the blessing we give to young upstarts. Alchemist has proven himself to be a cut above the rest. So, what is wrong with funding him? It seems like you have brought personal opinions into our field of business."
"Yo—You!" shouted Toka.
Yet, he could say nothing as he had not a single good point to counter that. What Daniel said was true, but he would die before admitting it.
Toka's face swiftly changed, and he hissed, "Where is the feast?"
"Well, how was it?" mockingly questioned Reve. Dorian could not answer that question as he was too engrossed in dealing with the constant tremors in his body. That, in itself, was a form of an answer. "The nature pillars were imbued with a special enchantment called the Brand of Nemesis. This enchantment allows the pillar to store the force of your attack and send it back to upon next contact," explained Reve. He jumped down from the tree and moved closer to a nature pillar. There, he sent forth a simple punch.*Thud!*Of course, his "simple" punch was not so simple. For the first time, the gang of thieves saw the nature pillar tremble with such intensity. Even the ground shook a little bit. However, that was not the point.In less than a second, Reve punched again. This time, the aftereffects of his attacks were much more disastrous than the previous one. The natural pillar remained unbroken as it was protected by Reve's enchantment, but the ground slightly opened to form cracks. Reve ignored that and gave a final punch, still within the one-second range. His punch widened the cracks on the earthen surface and some of the sensitive thieves could feel the weak vibrations in the ground. Taking advantage of their silence, Reve divulged, "This will be your training. One of blood and sweat. One that would make you beg for death.""The training is simple. Keep punching the nature pillars. Each successive punch has to carry a greater force than the previous punch. Each attack is an upgrade, a forceful upgrade as if you fail to surpass the previous punch, your bones would be injected with the force behind your punches. You would be basically punching yourself. Of course, this is too easy for you. So, upon failure, I made sure the force injected into your body would be amplified.""In essence, your bones would quake and your skeletal frame might even receive permanent damage. There is no doubt that this training could lead to death."Reve cooly said, "You said you are not scared of death. So, prove it to me now. Face death and come out anew. Your training begins now. You are officially the first generation of the Amethyst Style."His words managed to raise the heartbeats of the thieves.If they understood correctly, Kimon was offering them a chance at a glorious purpose. He was offering them a position as the disciple of the style he uses victoriously against his foes.All this while, their lives had been mundane. It was all theft for them. The joy of the younger days had left them as they realized they were forever trapped in this rogue lifestyle, but...Now, they could become something else....someone else. Kimon never promised this would be a magical process or an immediate evolution. It would surely take a long time to master a style. Yet, for once in their life, they put down their savagery and earnestly complied with Kimon's instructions. Seeing the entire gang of thieves picking a nature pillar for themselves, Reve revealed a rare warm smile. 'Well, this was totally random. But I seem to have made an excellent decision. To think the first generation would start here...'Feeling invigorated, he quickly shook his head and went to advise those that failed the training on their second punch. 'Yeah, it would not be easy.'.........---------- The Forgotten Peaks ---------------The Forgotten Peaks was one of the few mountainous regions in Starhold, situated near the vast land that protruded out of the city. As for why it was named as such, it was because the mountains of this region frequently discharged a red breeze that was poisonous to any living being. With this type of harsh environment, there was no way that anyone in their right mind would think of staying here. However, at this particular time, in a large building structure built on one of the mountains, a group of humans conversed. "I am of the opinion that it is time to expand the varieties of my potion."The voice belonged to a man covered in a black cloak and grey bandages wrapped around his head. The people he addressed were across the table where he was currently seated. "Oh, Alchemist, should I assume that you have conquered most of the side-effects of your base potion?" asked one of the other men.The other individuals seated at the table glanced at the person called Alchemist. What the Alchemist casually said was a matter of great importance. The Alchemist responded with a croaked voice, "I have not made any progress. The issue of side effects cannot be tackled easily. I would need adequate time to translate words of an old journal to normal Arcadian. I plan on making do with what I have now."Once again, the obese man on the other side opposed him, "If you have not dealt with the side-effects of your potions, I'm afraid there is little we can do"He was quickly interrupted by a brown-haired middle age man, "Now, Now, Toka. Our customers love his potions. They like feeling the closeness of death that it gives them. Cut Alchemist some slack, let him do what he wants to do. Anyway, he has our blessing.""And that, there, is the problem. He shouldn't have free reins over what to do with our blessing. Who knows whether his next potions would be as successful as this one," mocked Toka. Some other individuals on the table aligned with Toka's thoughts. While the minority held the same opinion as the brown-haired middle-aged man, Daniel.Daniel's lips curled strangely to form a sneer, "You make no sense, Toka. The Black Market thrives because of the blessing we give to young upstarts. Alchemist has proven himself to be a cut above the rest. So, what is wrong with funding him? It seems like you have brought personal opinions into our field of business.""YoYou!" shouted Toka.Yet, he could say nothing as he had not a single good point to counter that. What Daniel said was true, but he would die before admitting it. Toka's face swiftly changed, and he hissed, "Where is the feast?"
