B2 Chapter 196: Training, pt. 1

Kaius leapt to the side, feeling the tepid air of the training hall caress his skin as he desperately sped away from Porkchop’s claws.

It was their first day sparring, and Rieker had him strip down to his small clothes to fight his brother. No skills, no spells. Just raw ability as they tried to tear each other to shreds.

Neither of them were shy about it—Porkchop had immediately set upon him in a furious tumble of teeth and claws. With his left hand reduced to a slowly healing nubbin, Kaius felt himself at a distinct disadvantage. Even if he had the strength to use A Father’s Gift one-handed, it didn’t mean the sword was perfect for it.

Still, blood had soaked Porkchop’s fur in half a dozen places—evidence that he could still lay down the hurt even disarmed.

Not to say that he got away scott free. Facing down the mountain of meat that was his brother, Kaius finally got an inkling of the primal terror that their enemies must have felt in their final moments.

Even without armour, it was hard to hold your ground against an apex-predator more than thrice your size bearing down on you. It was enough to make a man break out into a cold sweat.

As he moved, half his mind reacted, while the other half analysed the approaching jade claws. They were going to hit him, no doubt about that. Even with the advanced warning and boosted speed from Uncanny Dodge, and his improved footwork from Tempered By Dissonance, Porkchop was like lightning given form.

Knowing escape was impossible, he warded off Porkchop’s follow through with a rapid jab of his blade—tilting his shoulder to keep the deadly weapons from his core.

Razor sharp jade punctured his flesh like it was butter, just barely glancing off the bones off his upper arm. Muscle flayed, flapping free in a bright spray of blood, dousing his body in what felt like its fifteenth coat of the visceral paint. As the slab of meat flopped open, Kaius caught the glinting white of his bone out of the corner of his eye.

It was cracked.

He grunted, shunting off the blinding white flare of agony as Rapid Adaptation pulsed, muting the pain.

Health went to work, flooding from the pool in his soul space to douse the site of the injury. Individual muscle fibres writhed like snakes, and his shoulder started to seal itself shut—thickened blood welling at the edges of the wound like water in an overfull cup.

Porkchop was already moving, lunging in with a bite. Kaius was ready for him.

They’d already choked off the bond from both ends, allowing nothing but vague emotional impressions through—neither of them were interested in cheating. Unfortunately for his brother, it wasn’t enough.

As soon as their spar had started, Kaius found the full extent of The Veteran’s Edge revealed to him. The secondary process in his mind had latched onto Porkchop like a bloodhound, analysing his every move to compare to his knowledge of his brother’s fighting style.

Within moments he could almost predict his brother’s every action—it wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.

Kaius leapt back and slashed, carving through Porkchop’s snout and peeling back a lip to reveal jagged teeth.

“Uh oh,” he thought to himself, staring at the wound. Neither of them were supposed to be going for the head, but in his focus he’d reacted instinctively.

His brother howled, genuine anger flooding their narrowed bond as Porkchop raced in with renewed vigour.

Blanching at the sudden—admittedly well deserved—aggression, Kaius reacted as best he could.

He caught the next swipe on his blade, opening Porkchop’s wrist. The third crushed his guard, carving through his thigh from hip to knee—opening it like a sliced bun.

Porkchop skidded to a halt as he fell to one knee with a gasp, deep red gushing from a severed artery to pool on the stone.

“That’s for going for the nose, dick.”

He simply groaned back, holding his leg together to make the job easier for Lesser Regeneration. A burst of healing hit them both a moment later. Ianmus, standing on the sidelines next to the guildmaster.

Rieker had tasked him with holding healing skills at the ready—it was good skill training for the mage, and let him and Porkchop keep gutting each other for far longer than they would otherwise.

After a minute of lying in his own blood, Kaius got back to his feet and dove back in. Both of them had already levelled their healing skills a couple of times, but there was still plenty of time for more.

…

Sitting cross legged on the floor of the hall, Kaius grumbled as the cold stone leeched the heat from his legs. He cradled a glass bottle, one of several that Rieker had procured for him to use over the coming week. From the looks that Ianmus had given them, he knew that most of them were rare.

He sighed, uncorking the bottle with his teeth. It opened with a squeak. While his hand had mostly finished healing, it wasn’t fully complete.

When Rieker had said it would be slow, he wasn’t lying. After five days of being torn to shreds by his brother, and tearing him up in turn, his palm had only just finished regenerating.

His fingers, on the other hand, were still little more than wiggling stumps.

Sighing at the noxious blue-white fluid inside the vial, Kaius analysed it with his True Sight for what felt like the fifth time.

Frozen Blood Oil:

Uncommon – Tier I

Affinity: Ice

Turns out having ice in your veins is rather deadly.

A long-acting oil that spreads freezing ice through wounds, hampering the flesh and bursting soft tissues

Depths-brewed Weapon Oil

Creeping Hoarfrost II

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Was he really going to do this? Injure himself purely to grow his skills?

Yes, yes he was.

Kaius drew his knife.

The thick oil oozed from the neck of the potion bottle, beading on the rim like molasses. Wafting notes of the cold night of winter, and the slow burning heat of hypothermic exposure wrinkled his nose as a slow stream of toxin slid free.

As soon as it touched his knife, the viscosity changed, seeping to cover the full extent of the blade. It was oddly adhering, holding tight to the surface of the metal in a thin film without dripping or running.

Finishing his pour, Kaius capped the bottle and set it to the side. A quick flip readjusted his grip. Now holding the knife downwards, he held it over his thigh—staring at his own pale flesh.