Chapter 4

Arvis slept for fourteen hours.

He knew this because when he woke, the angle of light through the window had shifted from the golden haze of late afternoon. It had little to do with the comfort of his temporary residence, as the thin, minimalistic sleeping mat was even more uncomfortable than his lumpy military mattress.

Not that it mattered.

As he lay, he decided to activate the ticket he had received from making a deal with Sylvanas. Technically, it could reveal his hand, but he was in his room. If they were determined to watch him, he couldn’t hide it.

Theoretically risky, but since his whole presence was dependent on the goodwill of someone who was about to commit a politically risky move, he decided to take it.

He needed to understand what else Chaos Gacha could offer to plan properly.

[Select one!]

[Water Breathing]

{Rare Skill: Water Breathing is a specialized swordsmanship style and breathing technique that mimics water, specifically the flow, flexibility and adaptability of the liquid and replicates it with the user’s movements, techniques and abilities. Most, if not all, known techniques involve the user bending their body, arm and weapon in a fluid motion to match the movements of rushing or flowing water. With magical power, water can be manifested to further augment the power of the style.}

[Smoke Bomb]

{Uncommon Item: “Smoke Bomb!” a simple-looking smoke bomb. You can throw one of these at your feet and if you successfully manage to obscure yourself from everyone, you can teleport anywhere in a 25-meter range instantly that you would otherwise be able to get into. Restock Timer: 12 Hours}

He didn’t even need to think before selecting the first option. A new sword style focusing on mobility and flexibility was far more useful than a smoke bomb when he was destined to fight the undead one way or another.

Once he picked, information flooded his mind, as if he had spent months learning the technique from an expert. There were ten techniques, but he doubted he could pull more than two of them.

It would have been a huge problem, if it hadn’t been for the other part of the skill. Specific training techniques to improve his physical strength significantly, split into four categories.

Total concentration breathing, which was a special way to breathe that boosted strength and improved recovery.

Training gourd, which was designed to improve lung capacity.

Elemental mimicry, which was a way to better embody the element of the style and improve effectiveness.

Then, physical conditioning, a set of high-intensity training moves to increase lung capacity and cardiovascular strength.

Frankly, even without the offensive techniques, that would have been a treasure. The ride from Stratholme and the ghoul attacks had shown just how weak he was, and the casual displays of power from Sylvanas further confirmed it.

He didn’t start training immediately, no matter how tempting it was. Activating the ticket was a risk he needed to take, but he could probably delay training a bit. Maybe even search for a waterfall to hide the inevitable noise it would create.

Sylvanas had helped him far more than he expected, but she was not an ally he could trust openly. He wished he could, but if wishes worked, he would have been living a comfortable life in the capital enjoying his life, and not thinking how to survive in a world where the Alliance was about to shatter.

He sat up and looked around the room. Small, clean, built into the branch of one of the great trees near the edge of the small ranger settlement. He stood up and walked out. Luckily, someone had left a pitcher of water and a plate of thin, pale bread and dried meat at the entrance on a covered plate.

He ate it aggressively. It was surprisingly tasty despite its simplicity, with a faintly sweet aftertaste that he suspected was some kind of elven spice he had never encountered. More importantly, it quieted his stomach enough that he could think.

Arvis stepped outside into the afternoon air, breathing deeply, interested to note that he could breathe deeper than he could. Just a bit, but it was still a difference. The settlement was quiet at this hour, only a handful of rangers visible on the walkways above, moving with an interesting mixture of grace and hurry.

He didn’t try to interact with the rangers. Instead, he walked away from the settlement. Not too far until he could find a little spot that he could turn into an impromptu garden.

Perfect for testing Bloom.

He touched. The soil was dark, rich, practically humming with latent energy, far better than any farming land Lordaeron possessed. Not a surprise considering the untouched nature and the incredible mana density.

The difference was staggering. Not just the amount of mana available in the air, but also the ease he could interact with it. As if the mana outside the world was muddy water, here it was pure spring water, soft and palatable, but also chilled to perfection, with a tinge of mint flavor.

He sighed, wondering if childhood experience trying to be a mage would have been different. “Doesn’t matter,” he finally muttered. Wondering how much better a mage he would have been if he was able to get educated in Quel’Thalas was pointless, not when his family lacked the clout to send him to Dalaran.

He might as well imagine whether he would have made a better prince than Arthas.

“Focus,” he muttered as he touched the empty patch of soil. He reached for a patch of grass, intending to encourage growth. The blades stretched upward at the slightest touch, stretching upward.

He blinked. This time, he didn’t feel any pull on his limited mana reserves. He was tempted to try it immediately for something bigger, but he managed to control himself. Simple and steady was the way, and getting carried away could be risky.

Not directly, maybe, but indirectly.

He walked around for a few seconds before he found a small pear tree, its fruits tiny and unripe. He put his hand, and used Bloom. Not immediately as a tool like he had done during his escape, but slowly, carefully, examining every little detail.

It was an interesting experience. It was not a spell. “Or, if it is, it’s not like the cantrips my tutors tried to teach,” he added. A part of it was the control required. Being a mage was difficult, because casting required absolute focus while shaping the mana. Failing to do so came with consequences, ranging between an unpleasant headache and an explosive death.

A rather disheartening range.

Bloom’s automatic control wasn’t the only difference. Arcane spells required a mage to absorb environmental mana and control it internally before it could be used. Arvis remembered his tutors mentioning the ways to leverage environmental mana, such as runes, but there was nothing in his training about a spell that could casually alternate between environmental and personal mana.

However, the extraordinary nature of its workings didn’t mean it had no lessons when it came to his own casting.

He had failed how to be a mage, partially because of his low aptitude, but a big part of it was not understanding how to channel and control mana. His tutors tried to explain, but always felt like trying to learn about colors as a blind person.

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“No time like the present,” he said as he raised his finger, focusing for a moment to remember his lessons, and channeled his mana.

Arcane bolt. A simple, directed blast of mana.

It worked.

Well, somewhat, he thought. The resulting spell was nothing more than a purple flash of light, unraveling before it got farther than an arm’s length. Still, he was happy. He did something that had troubled him all his childhood.

Unfortunately, all he needed was to repeat it half a dozen times before exhaustion hit. He had a limited awareness of his reserves, as it was another thing that his training was supposed to cover, but the sense of exhaustion was clear.

It was interesting that a bunch of failed cantrips exhausted him more than Bloom, which was probably about its nature of using environmental mana. It was also possible that his arcane bolt was even more inefficient than he realized.

It didn’t matter much.

“Now, it’s time to meditate,” he muttered, aware that, even in such a dense location, it would take several minutes for him to get into the right mindset. Then, he paused, remembering his skill. He was afraid of using the skill fully where elves could see, but he decided the basic breathing that came with it was an acceptable one.

It shouldn’t look that different, and even if elves noticed something different, it was better to be caught in the open rather than trying to skulk in the shadows. The latter would look as if he were trying to hide something, while the former, he could pass it off as trying to experiment with a difficult family technique, one that only worked thanks to amazing elven land and its incredible benefits.