The Sixth School

Author's note.

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All Characters in the story are 18 years of age and above...

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Chapter Seventy Three: A convergence III...

Greg had been a bit uneasy about the flying vessel. The last time he'd lost connection with the earth under him it had been so jarring that he'd been unable to focus on anything else despite being in a rather precarious situation. As it turns out, it was nowhere as bad as he'd been fearing it would be. Sure, not having his feet on the ground felt odd and a bit uncomfortable, but it was a lot like the feeling one got when on a plane. It was more of a mental awareness that he was separated from the ground rather than the visceral reaction he got when the earth-lock formation had been activated. Whatever the formation had done, it wasn't just simple separation like being lifted into the air. Even from the air, Greg got the feeling that if he grew strong enough, he could still connect to the ground below him. When the earth-lock formation had been activated, however, even while still standing on the ground, he was completely cut off from it. Unable to connect to the element in any meaningful way.

In a way, Greg found himself glad that he'd experienced the earth-lock formation. Having gotten that experience, getting on the flying vessel was a lot less jarring for him than it would have otherwise been. With something to compare it to, the slight discomfort he felt was a lot easier to bear than it would otherwise have been. Also, what little discomfort remained, Greg could easily distract himself from by turning his attention to the figure of an old Asian man with long, flowing, snow-white robes, standing stalwartly on a sword and flying alongside them.

As an avid reader of Eastern fantasy stories where martial masters could zoom around on flying swords, Greg immediately recognized the trope that the being was imitating. The figure's hair was completely grey, the front half of the hair on his head shaved clean while the back half was woven into a long braid as was common in Kung Fu movies. With inordinately long eyebrows and a flowing white beard that reached down to his navel. The image was clearly the stereotypical depiction of an old grandmaster and Greg had to suppress a snicker of amusement as he imagined the being suddenly saying, "Hmph, you're courting death!"

Gliding above the treeline and even above the town was exhilarating at first. But by the third hour standing in the same position, a lot of the novelty of the experience had faded. Instead, apart from the strain of being in one position with minimal movements, there was a growing feeling of boredom. Breathtaking as any vista might be, after the first hour of looking at it, your mind tends to begin to wander. As such, Greg couldn't help the slight delight he felt when they caught the first signs of the warping effect abyssal mana was having on the trees and animals of the forest. Taking it as a sign that they were getting closer to the convergence, he'd become more alert, readying himself for anything. He didn't succeed. Even if someone had described to him in detail what would happen next, Greg seriously doubted that it would have helped him prepare for what came next. The disturbing spectacle of the monkey's death was an image that would stick with him for quite some time.

Despite the slight discomfort of being in the air, the disturbing spectacle of a monkey being devoured by a tree, and all the twisted things they had seen along the way till they came to the zone where the abyssal mana was thickest, Greg still wasn't prepared for that first step off the flying vessel. Thus far, Greg had always thought of his earth connection as something interesting if not good. Strange as it was, it allowed him to perceive and understand things from the earth that he otherwise never would have. Sure, it had landed him in a bit of trouble with the obsidian earthmover, but by the same token, it was useful in its own way. It was like having a stream of information that he was uniquely privy to. It was with that first step off the flying vessel that he realized that the sense could be as much a bane as it was a boon.

The land wasn't screaming, it wasn't in pain... it was dead! And not dead in the sanitary way. The image that immediately came to mind for Greg was of a rotting corpse. Discolored, bloated, strange fluids leaking, nasty smell with maggots crawling in and out of it, The clear feeling of revulsion that overcame Greg at that moment was so strong that he was hunched over and puking his guts out before he even fully processed the feeling. This was even worse than the earth-lock formation had been. With the earth-lock formation, it had been like being deprived of a sweet scent that he'd grown used to. With this cursed land, however, rather than being deprived, the sweet smell had been replaced with a rotting corpse! Worse yet, unlike his nose which he could pinch to at least try and stave off any actual odors, there was no way of pinching his earth connection to limit what it was telling him, at least not any that he'd thus far discovered.

The abyssal mana wasn't just corrupting the land. It wasn't even just killing the land. It was taking what was left over after and defiling even that. In a way that Greg couldn't even put into words, the land was being turned into something that would spread even more of what killed it. Like gangrene, it wasn't enough for it to be just dead, it was being turned into something that would spread into healthy land, infect it, corrupt it, kill it, and then transform it into more of itself! With absolute certainty, Greg had in that first step realized that it wouldn't be enough to prevent the convergence from taking place. They'd have to somehow cleanse the mountain of the rot that was spreading through it, otherwise, within a year or two, nothing would be able to go on living on the mountain. Or, at least, nothing normal.

"Are you okay, master?" After some time, Olivia's voice finally managed to cut through the overwhelming nausea that Greg felt at that moment.

Gritting his teeth, Greg forced himself to ignore the feelings coming from his earth connection. It wasn't by any means easy, but Greg already had almost a full year of training by his familiar to withstand the extremes of any sensation. Except for the days he'd either been trying to assimilate a beast core and the month and a half that he'd been passed out after his ascension to the first tier, every other night had been spent in willpower training. The sensations from his earth connection had ambushed him, catching him unprepared, hence the puking. Clenching his hands into tight fists, however, Greg stood back and forced his expression into a neutral one. "The land under us is corrupted!" He stated by way of explanation. Greg went on to lay out all that he was feeling through his earth connection and his conclusion that they would have to cleanse the whole mountain lest it all become unlivable within a year or two.

"Can you manage?" The healer calmly questioned. His teacher's whole demeanor had changed. She wasn't exactly callous or uncaring. Instead, Greg was reminded of a movie in which he'd watched A general talk to one of their soldiers. They were now in hostile territory and she needed to know whether she could rely on him or not.

"It's hard, but I can," Greg replied with a nod, grim determination in his eyes.

"Good, because unless we first cut the inflow of abyssal mana at the source, we can forget about saving the mountain," She replied, turning to Olivia and holding out her hand for the snow-globe-like compass. "The first thing we need to determine is the area covered by the convergence before the real work begins," she stated.

"You know, I don't even know how it is we are planning to stop the convergence from taking place!" Greg couldn't help the bit of embarrassment he felt even as he admitted to his ignorance. He had been so caught up in the flow of things that at no point had it even occurred to him to stop and ask this most important question. It was, after all, the whole reason they were even up here, to begin with!

"Form..."

Whatever else his teacher was about to say, it was drowned out by the shrill cry of rage coming from a creature that looked a lot like a gorilla except that what looked like armadillo-like plates of armor covered most of its body except for its face, fists, and feet. The creature also had several tentacles emerging from its back and waving ominously in the air above it. Now, Greg couldn't by any means claim to be an expert on the creatures of this world and their morphology. Who knows, perhaps gorillas with armadillo plates for protection and tentacles coming out of their backs were normal creatures in this world. But after what he'd seen earlier today, he wasn't willing to take any chances. His reaction to the threat was immediate.

In barely a second, Greg had drawn a longsword from his storage ring, in the next, the sword had crossed half the distance between where they stood and the gorilla that was charging at them from between the trees. Before the beast could even register what was going on, not that it even had the faculties to do so in its present state, the tip of the sword disappeared into its mouth. The beast was flung several meters back, as a result of the force that the blade had carried.

"Excellent reaction time," His teacher said looking genuinely surprised at Greg's reaction speed. Olivia, on the other hand, wasn't as surprised as the healer. She had watched his development across several dungeon dives over the past year. Greg had already learned that the one who strikes first can gain a significant advantage if they are smart about where they hit. That lesson, however, had transitioned from a vague notion to an ironclad law ever since Greg discovered the fighting rings. These weren't lawful or sanctioned fights where there were rules about what you could do or not do. When you stepped into that ring, you either came out a victor or a corpse. Nonsense such as posturing, shit-talking, and any other extraneous actions were the sole reserve of those who were already strong. In any fight where you were at a disadvantage, you had to keep your eyes open for any and all opportunities to take your enemy down.

Producing pointless war cries just as you are about to attack as the gorilla had done, was the height of stupidity as far as Greg was concerned. If you were going to tell your enemy that you were about to attack, then you might as well go ahead and tell them the exact move you also intend to execute as well. Olivia had also talked to him about this several times. This was, after all, one of the aspects of her theory of combat. Reading all the ways your enemy's body was broadcasting their intentions and keeping your own body for doing the same. The moment Greg heard the shrill cry from the gorilla, his mind had immediately shifted into combat mode and all extraneous thoughts were expelled. Before the gorilla could even understand that it was about to die, the blade had already sunk to the hilt in the gorilla's mouth and come out the back at the base of its skull.

"Thanks," Greg answered his teacher's praise even as he held out a hand, summoning the sword back into his tight grip.

This was the strategy that they had come up with to ensure the best outcome in any fight they found themselves in. It had been a hard pill to swallow, but his teacher had been quite blunt in letting him know that there was no way he could hope to keep up with her in battle. There was no malice or intent to belittle Greg in her voice, demeanor, or words. It was simply a factual statement. There was just too big a gap in combat style, strategic thinking, and actual battle experience between the two of them. If they tried to coordinate with each other they'd just get in each other's way, or worse hurt each other in the process. As such, instead of trying to force them into a situation that would be disadvantageous to both of them, the resolution was simple, Greg could fight from a distance.

Apart from a few armors to keep him safe and a significant pile of potions to help with everything from healing to increasing his speed of movement and reflexes, all of Greg's preparations had been geared toward one who would be fighting from a distance. Flying knives, flying swords, bows, and a whole array of arrows with various effects, items like alchemical bombs that he could lob from a distance, and so on. Greg would help in staving off whatever trouble came their way by attacking from a distance. As soon as that failed and whatever they were fighting tried to get up close and personal, then he was to fall back and let the healer take over.

The reason Greg had gone for the sword and not a flying knife was because of a warning he'd gotten from both his teacher and Olivia. "Controlling flying weapons requires a lot of mental energy. Do it for a few minutes and you probably won't notice the difference. Do it for two hours straight, and you start to get a headache. Keep at it for five hours and that headache will transform into a migraine. Endure another two hours past that and you'll probably pass out!" This had been the healer's word of caution the greater the number of flying weapons Greg bought from the shop. They had no idea what amount of time they'd need to achieve their goal, so her advice to him had been that he should pace himself. The optimal time for those who weren't trained in using such weapons was a ratio of one to five. His teacher, however, had advised that whatever amount of time passed while he was using a mind-controlled floating armament, he should try to take at least twice as long to rest. That way, he wouldn't burn out too quickly!

This was why Greg had sought to kill in one move. If he could shrink down the amount of time he was using the armaments to as low as possible, then consequently, his recovery time would also shrink to a negligible amount. Just like now, sending the sword out and summoning it back had taken barely five seconds, in less than half a minute, he would have obtained full recovery as opposed to the one-to-two ratio he was to maintain when things got really bad. Turning back to his teacher, Greg prompted. "You were saying?"

"Formations," The healer immediately got back into the flow of things. "The thought of two worlds connecting may sound daunting, but in reality, it's a very delicate process. One that is surprisingly easy to disrupt even when it's in its last phases. A combination of about six to seven formations will have to be layered one on top of the other to this end. That may sound like a lot, but considering I know problems that require a hundred-plus formation layers to be resolved, seven is next to nothing," She laid out. "First, we'll need to set up a space isolation formation. Cutting off the small space in which the doorway is forming from the rest of the world tends to badly destabilize the connection between the two worlds. The second and third formations are the mana dispersal and mana ward formations. The first one disperses any mana in the isolated space while the second one prevents any mana from flowing back into that area, essentially creating a mana vacuum. Doing this will slow down the formation of the connection down to a crawl. A connection that would have formed in a cycle, will now take ten, and one that would have taken ten cycles will now take a hundred!"

"The fourth formation is the obscuration formation. This one is just in case there..."

"Uuh, guys," Olivia's voice interrupted the explanation causing the two of them to turn to her. The familiar, however, wasn't looking at them. Following her gaze, she was looking in the direction of the gorilla that Greg had just killed, or at least had tried to, given that the thing was slowly and jerkily picking itself up off the ground. Greg was certain that, at the angle that the flying longsword had come out the back of the gorilla's head, it must have cut the beast's brain stem in two. How then the thing was still alive, Greg didn't know! "I don't think the denizens of this twisted land are very happy with our presence here," She said, her gaze turning in another direction to reveal several beasts, all with warped features, slowly approaching them. Ever since they'd crossed into the lands infected with abyssal mana, they hadn't encountered any two animals working together, not even those that were usually social animals. That these beasts had chosen to set aside their hostilities to come after them, was indeed odd. "I think it'd be wise for us to postpone the explanations till after the situation is resolved, wouldn't you say?" She suggested even as two, double-edged, blood-red daggers that curved forward slightly, appeared in her hands!

Greg had been willing to arm Olivia just as much as his teacher and himself. Much to his surprise, however, she turned him down. Instead, she only asked for one thing, the dual dagger set that she was currently holding. Greg had tried to insist that she at least get some armor, or healing potions if she didn't want the former. His familiar, however, had just smiled and said that the blades would be all that she needed. Now admittedly, the pair of daggers had an inordinate number of enchantments, enough to be rated as a peak tier-two item. Boasting a nigh-unbreakable hardness, enhanced sharpness that didn't dull, and an enchantment that kept any fluids or debris from attaching to the blades, the daggers could afflict its victims enhanced pain, sleep, paralysis, or necrosis depending on which enchantment Olivia activated. Even the healer had seemed impressed with the pair of daggers when Olivia was done laying out all their perks and abilities. For an item in the lower tiers, it was a surprisingly versatile weapon.

A fact that was put on full display in the next second.

If not for the sudden displacement of air, and the flying debris in her wake, Greg would have believed that she teleported. One second, she was next to them, and in the next, she was standing behind the gorilla with its head rolling off its shoulders. The thing had been put down so fast that, forget Greg or his teacher, the creature itself was probably dead before it even knew what had happened. Abyssal corruption or not, the creature was unlikely to recover from a severed head. Whether it was because it had happened right in front of them, or some unknown facet of their abyssal mana corruption, Greg didn't know. But the eclectic group of monsters that had been slowly approaching them became even more rabid than they already were. Releasing a varied array of furious howls, roars, chitters, and screeches, the fast-growing mob of creatures started to charge toward Olivia. Gripped by sudden fear on behalf of his familiar, Greg took a step forward ready to call her back to his side. The words, however, died on his lips as Greg's perception of the familiar fundamentally changed. The always chipper familiar that rarely took anything too seriously, was a harbinger of death on the battlefield.

Rather than use her extreme speed to move back to where Greg and the healer stood, she ran straight at the incoming stampede. Greg would have expected Olivia to use her overwhelming speed advantage to maintain an advantage over the mindless beasts. But that wasn't what she did. A ghost. That's the only word that came to mind as Greg watched the chilling spectacle before him. For two months before he was indisposed as a result of his ascension, Greg had been learning about the theory of combat from his familiar. In-depth as Olivia had tried to make those lessons, however, none came close to watching her dismantle a whole group of monsters with the ease of one who was walking through their garden and pruning a few errant tree branches.