B2 Chapter 231: Pursuit of Mastery

Standing in the underground training hall, Kaius looked over at the field of stone pillars that was arrayed before him.

Rieker had set them up for them—made of some sort of material that was resistant to resonance, and well grounded, they served as durable targets for him to practice influencing his spells with his Will.

The first week had been an exercise in frustration, especially since Ianmus had had a much easier time with using his own Will to influence his abilities. The mage’s gains had been meagre, but he’d seen something on the first day, and every day after that he’d managed just a hair of progress.

His glyph-binding, on the other hand, seemed uniquely ill suited to the process. His spells had a layer of detachment from him—supported by his glyph and directed collapse of unstable mana, they had none of the personal touch of weaving magic directly out of your mana channels.

Still, he’d managed it, even if the challenge had been hellish. Not much, but…something.

Every time he lashed one of the stone pillars, two additional arches would leap to a nearby neighbour. At first it had been utterly random, but now he had some measure of control.

A tiny, miserable, measure. Perhaps one in five tries, he’d get a single arc to connect where he wanted it to. It wasn’t even really control, more like rigging a dice roll so the odds were ever so slightly in his favour.

At least he was improving. Achingly slowly, but he was improving.

He shot a glance to his left, where Ianmus was deep in focus as he strained his mind to adjust the size of one of his light beams without using his manipulation skill. He scowled—the man was far too blasted talented at magic for his own good.

Shaking his head, Kaius turned his focus back on the pillars.

A fugue-like fuzz fell over the edges of his vision as he pulled his attention back from the world to focus on his spell, and his target.

Slowing down, his heart picked up the tempo of a measured march—endless and rhythmic.

Just his target, and the spell.

With the pillar filling his vision—a dark grey with flecks of reflective crystals—he flexed his will.

Lightning cracked, boiling in his hand with a fury that sharpened his senses. It roiled in his grip, fighting against him to rage and writhe in an effort to follow its design. A moment’s pause calmed the mind, and Kaius swung.

Not at his target—its neighbour.

Searing gold cut through the air, wrapping itself round the stone pillar—dumping hot plasma and arcane reverberation into the material as streamers of energy burst free.

One snapped to the right, the opposite direction of his target.

Then the other dominated his vision, filling the centre of his focus with screaming cracks of storm’s fury. The focus of his will, bound in a destructive web of his own making.

**Ding! Latent Glyph of Drakthar has reached level 60!**

Kaius grinned, satisfaction washing over him at his success.

He quashed it a moment later, resetting his stance as he worked on honing his focus once more. Until he was successful twice in a row, he wouldn’t be satisfied.

A significant ordeal, considering how draining each and every cast was—even after a bare five casts he could feel the burgeoning throb that was setting in behind his left eye, threatening to pop the orb free with every beat of his heart.

Shaking off the fatigue, Kaius refocused.

Another dozen or so attempts—then he could take a break to drink some poison and reinscribe.

….

The hammer hit him in the chest, shattering his breastplate like glass and cracking his sternum.

Good as his dampening under-armour was, the guildmaster hit like a hill giant.

Porkchop growled, snapping at Rieker in frustration when his hand got a little too close.

The guildmaster snatched his hand back, wagging a finger at his face.

“You’re going to have to be faster than that if you want a bite of me, meles.” he grinned.

Porkchop’s heart kicked in his chest as Rieker lunged forwards, warhammer swept up just slow enough that he could track it.

It was coming for his neck, he realised.

Shoving off the ground, Porkchop reared up, throwing his bulk into the guildmaster’s swing. He took the blow on his pauldron, robbing the attack of half of its wind up.

Throbbing agony rolled through him as his shoulder slipped in its socket, jade shards flying free as the hammer spalled enhanced crystal with ease.

Porkchop ignored the pain, letting it wash away in the growing heat of aggression. He dug his back claws in, using the traction to twist into a full bodied swipe—hoping to catch Rieker in his undefended and unarmoured stomach.

The guildmaster only smirked—spinning off his front foot to shatter yet another armour plate, this time one of long segments hanging off his mid back. A new addition once the skill had crossed level fifty.

“Come on, Porkchop! You’re better than this! Don’t just let me beat on you.”

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Rieker accompanied his words with a baleful blitz of smashing hammer swings that left his forearm, ribs, and shoulder blade splintered—shards of jade falling to the floor like rain.

Health roared like a pyre, stitching his bones whole in seconds.

Forcing mana into the construction of his skill, Porkchop felt the energy surge into his armour—fixing it to wholeness.

Rieker capitalised on the moment of distraction, swinging for his shoulder again.

Porkchop roared. He pulled his arm up, letting the guildmaster’s hammer hit him just below his armpit. The plates there were thin—just barely covered from the development of his armour skill at level fifty. Blood gushed as the thick slap of steel punched straight through, shredding muscle and caving in his upper ribs.

**Ding! Celadon Aegis has reached level 70!**

Snapping his arm down, Porkchop wedged the weapon into his side by the haft. Ignoring the burning ache, he kicked off with his jaw wide open—

—and sunk his teeth straight into Rieker’s shoulder.