Book 2 Chapter 25: The Scholar, the Monk, and the Old Thief

Sam

June 1, 1787, Realm Time, the Outworlder Base

"C'mon, once more!" Caterina yelled.

Panting, sweat pouring down his temples, Sam fought his burning muscles as he lifted the weight. He knew instantly he wouldn't make it all the way up.

"Help!" he squeaked.

Tristan and Pops, each on one side of the bar, lifted it, letting it settle in the grooves and secure.

"T-thanks," Sam heaved.

"It's as I feared," Caterina said, lowering her eyeglasses to look Sam in the eyes. "You have a dad bod."

"I just bench pressed five hundred pounds," Sam tried to yell, albeit he managed only a faint squeal. "Ten reps."

"With a Strength of seventy, at tier three, you should approach a thousand."

"I can do biceps with five hundred, and I chose the magic spec," Tristan said, which didn't improve Sam's mood much; on the contrary.

"Conclusion: Stats gained through investing attribute points represent potential, rather than—"

"But I could feel the energy when I invested in Strength."

In Sam's opinion, the build he was aiming for, with a focus on Physical, was perfectly balanced.

"Absolutely," Caterina said condescendingly. "There is an increase, but not to the fullest. Stats are a whole; they stretch to accommodate the increase. But it's up to you to fully develop their potential. Look at the bright side. Training them takes three times less than if you were a normal person."

"There's no bright side. Only pain," Sam complained.

"No worries, I'll help you," Tristan said.

"Let's increase the tempo. A session of weightlifting a day, followed by martial training with Pops," Caterina decided. "Two hours each."

"But I'm busy—"

"Tsk!" she frowned at him, and Sam lowered his eyes. Since the woman had gotten a class, Scholar, she had become… different. Teacherly. He had trouble contradicting her.

"Time to check on the Juggernaut," Caterina said. "See you in a week. I count on you to be responsible," she frowned at Sam, making him feel like a first grader caught stealing a pencil.

Is that a skill? Whatever… I'll do an hour and say I did two. I'm a duke, for fucks sake.

"Can I watch while you test Jug?" Sam asked.

"We're taking him on Earth," Caterina said. "I'll make you a report, don't worry."

"You think his powers will stop working?"

"We're testing limits."

"She has a theory," Tristan said proudly. "Tell him, babe."

"Fine, but only because you ask," Caterina said. "A power offering infinite invulnerability doesn't make sense. My theory is that once in combat, his powers harmonize with external Mana, creating a sort of energy field. Extremely strong, and undetectable because it's part of the background. However, an attack that would overwhelm the local Mana field is theoretically possible."

"Like a nuke?"

"Indeed. However, testing that would be impractical and dangerous," Caterina said, with a certain regret in her voice. "We'll see if the protection field is as strong on Earth, and also try Mind magic."

"His Will is high; he's immune—"

"So what? My Int is as high as his will."

Power of scolding versus power of stubbornness… Go figure.

"Caterina started at eighty from the start," Tristan said.

"That's what starting at means." Teacher's pet!

"Come, my friend. Let's test our mettle," Pops said, patting Sam's shoulder.

Sam's dream of taking a shower evaporated. He couldn't see the point of sparring with the old Chinese. Every time, the results were the same. Sam won with swords, Pops with staffs. Hand-to-hand was mostly in Pops' favor, because he was faster and leaner. When powers were involved, the Chinese's wind attacks couldn't budge Sam due to his stability, and the old man was forced to take to the air to avoid a loss. Jumping back in time was a good counter to that, as was the rope.

When he shook his head, standing up from the bench, Pops was the only one left. Sam followed the Chinese in the base's sports field, just outside the base spa resort. There were bodyguards on watch, First and Second orders, keeping the public out.

"We start warming up," Pops said.

"What did I just do?" Sam complained because he had used every weight machine in the last half an hour.

"Warming up magic ally," Pops said, mistreating the words.

"What?"

"Meditating and cycling Mana."

Not again…

Cycling Mana was not something Earth's Shaolin monks really did. Pops had stolen the concept from cultivation novels. His idea of cycling was practicing skills and movements slowly, breathing in a regular pattern. For the old man, a wind mage, it worked very well; he had many types of air skills, and variants of the same. For Tristan, or Eliza, who had siphoning skills, it also made sense; there was a reverse flow. Sam, by contrast, had only a few abilities, and, given their characteristics, the point was moot. Time didn't feel like a flow at all, more like a succession of points in space he was moving through.

Nevertheless, he followed the old man's demand. Kenjutsu also had slow motion practices. The routine was annoying, and after a while, Sam's mind drifted away. Focusing on things he could do with his eyes closed was useless. For the last three weeks, at Caterina's suggestion, Sam had been doing three sparring bouts a week with Pops and as many weight-lifting sessions alone. He still had to see the benefits, except for a hundred-pound increase in bench pressing.

After the next week, I'm done taking orders from her.

He trusted the woman because her ideas had brought small improvements in so many matters he couldn't count, and that had added up. A small secondary sodium-ion battery, instead of the cumbersome salt globe, to make phone calls worldwide. Efficient and standardized logistics for the Protectorates. Cataloging. Items to import from Earth, for cheap, that could improve life on the Realm tremendously: socks and underwear. And each day, there was more. Everything useful, except the training ordeal she put them through: Sam, Tristan, and everybody in the Chaos Company.

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I guess nobody can be right all the time.

Sam stopped exercising to take a deep breath, feeling exhausted. For a good while, his body had moved by itself while his thoughts busied themselves with the Scholar.

"Good, good, clear your mind. Your movements are smoother," Pops' voice said.

"If letting my mind err helps, I'll start watching anime." Sam laughed.

"You moved veeeery slow," Pops said. "Like in the movies."

"What?"

Breakthrough. By letting your mind work by instinct, you have used Seconds Matter independently of Warp Dash or To be or not to be. Seconds Matter has evolved to Time is of the essence. From now on, you can use this ability whenever you wish, as long as you don't exhaust your Mana.

Time is of the essence slows or speeds up your own time by a factor of 12 and can be applied for up to 2.5 minutes (from your perspective). Current estimation: 4-5 uses per day, uses shared with To be or not to be and Time dilation. Increase your Arcane Intimidation and Time Insight to increase the number.

"Fuck!"

"Something wrong?" Pops asked.

"No, I just leveled up… I don't like that she was right."

"I was right!" Pops protested.

"Right, right, sorry. Thanks."

"You did good, Samuel."

I did well, but let's not argue about it.

"Yet, there is still progress to be made. The supreme achievement is when one can sleep while training," Pops continued.

"I'm clearly not there yet."

"It's enough for today," Pops declared. "Good training finishes when the student achieves something good. Remember this sensation. Cherish it. It will help your future development."

"Yes, Sensei," Sam bowed. "I mean shifu, whatever—"

Pops gave him a thumbs up and took flight. He passed through the energy dome protecting the base unimpeded because of the identifier charm he wore. Sam aimed toward the sports fields exit, nodding to the guards to let them know they could allow the public back in. A group of young people was waiting outside, holding volleyballs or basketballs.

"Sir, the old crazy guy is stealing from the garbage again," one guard whispered as Sam was leaving. "He scares the staff."

"I'll talk to him," Sam decided.

"Do you want us to come with you?" the man asked.

"I'm okay," Sam said. "Watch the residence." Other than keeping people away, he didn't need bodyguards on occasion. If trouble hit, he was apt enough to defend himself.

Taking a golf cart, Sam drove toward the farthest end of the valley. The hot spring was disappearing into the ground, to reappear on the other side of the mountain. Only two people were able to travel the cave from one part to another: Aldric and Koshchei. And the old crazy man the guard had mentioned was the latter.

Since the cart's speed was slow, he took the time to summon his Character Sheet and invested a point in Reputation and two in Time Insight.

Name: Samuel Klingner

Class: Time Samurai

Level: 70 (Third Tier)

Body

Strength: 70

Athletics: 50

Constitution: 50

Dexterity: 50

Endurance: 50

Speed: 50

Mind

Intelligence: 35

Wisdom: 100

Perception: 35

Knowledge: 50

Focus: 40

Willpower: 30

Bushido

*Arcane Intimidation: 30

Time Insight: 35

Mana Capacity: 30

Strike Power: 30

Soul Resonance: 30

Reputation: 61**

*A combination of Arcane Power and Intimidation, this stat grows your magical powers while intimidating your foes. An intimidated target is more vulnerable to your skills.

**This stat influences your social standing. Above 60, your class performs as a Shogun, granting a +10% damage and resistances to all your subjects.

Skills:

Passives:

System Interface / Universal Translator / Stability

Combat:

Warp Dash / Iaijutsu Strike / Prediction / Enhanced Speed /The Pretense / To be or not to be, Time Dilation, Time is of the essence.

I'm lagging behind, Sam realized. His total number of points was fifty to a hundred lower than the others'. His job as a Duke was taking up much of his time, and the rest was mostly spent with Penny, who had just entered her third pregnancy trimester.

Maybe Caterina has a point, after all.

Promising to follow her training regimen, Sam entered the scrapyard, situated a mile from the resort. It hosted what remained of many failed enchanting experiments, broken cars beyond repair, and all sorts of scrap metal. Koshchei, diminished to the size of a tool shack, was awkwardly searching through the piles of junk, using one of his chicken legs.

"I told you, this is off limits," Sam snapped, barely a second after he stopped the cart.

"Since you refused to give me the Interface, I need armor," the hut said, using a speaker it had self-installed on its wall.

"I didn’t refuse; I just said you have to prove yourself first. Look what happened with Janosh."

"That's the point. There are too many traitors around you. I don't want to get caught in the crossfire," Koshchei said, raising an inch-thick iron plate. After examining the engravings on it, the hut opened a side door and stored the item inside.

"Those enchantments don't work anyway," Sam said. "Just calm down, I'll build you an armor, using the CNC."

"They work fine if you know how to repair them," Koshchei said.

"And you know?"

"How old do you think I am?"

"Hundreds of years?"

"Fifteen centuries."

"Gosh…"

"You understand then that I know a thing or two."

"I'm amazed you still remember things." You old senile fart…

"I remember everything, even the taste of the borscht my wife made, before she ran off with the idiot prince charming, and spread all those bad rumors about me."

"So, you didn't kidnap princesses?"

"Eh… only a few. They ran off at the first occasion, or got their lovers to cut me into pieces. Very few could cook a decent meal. Becoming a hut was the best thing I did."

"But you still can be hurt, if you need… that!"

"Yes. Who used armor so thick?" Koshchei asked, finding another plate, a car hood that somehow looked like a chest armor. "You have giants?"

"It was for a reinforced vehicle we called a tank. We tried to make a lighter type using enchantments, but the fuel costs were still prohibitive."

"A tank must be a sight to behold," the hut nodded, storing the second plate as well before grabbing a handful of metal pipes.

"They're still vulnerable to explosives."

"Magic counters explosives."

"I know. I'm hoping not to be forced to build magical war machines, but one never knows."

"If we’re talking war… You know Isolde is set to take revenge on—"

"Jan?"

"Yes. Killing him will provoke the Swedes. They'll seek retribution. After what he did in Russia and restoring the Age of Liberty, the fake Gustav is loved like no other king before."

"Do you think therapy could help her calm down?"

"As much as throwing a glass of water over a forest fire. I have another suggestion."

"Like?"

"Stall her until you find a plan for Sweden."

"I'll ask a fr… an acquaintance, he's good with plans." The jerk! Sam couldn't refrain from cussing, remembering Napoleon. "How do you propose to stall her?"

"She cares for the children she saved, and more so about those changed into goblins. She couldn't reverse the changes with normal means, due to a lack of materials."

"Materials like what? Maybe we can provide them."

"Human children's parts to graft back instead of the monster ones."

"Yeah, maybe we can’t."

"Giving them the Interface could restore them to their original form. Do it slowly, one at a time. That will keep her occupied until you find a solution. And I pray thee, make so that solution does not mean betraying Isolde for the greater good. I will take offense."

Suddenly, Koshchei's shadow grew, turning into a humanoid form, with fangs and teeth.

"Duly noted," Sam said. "I'm not into betraying friends anyway."

"I hope so. What about my idea? Will you help the kids?"

"First, we'll have to do some tests. The interface was built for people over a certain age, with magical powers to start with. And even on those, it doesn't always work. But yes, if it's possible, I'll help. Maybe we can make a special batch of the shot." Only the cure, and not additional powers. The last thing we need is some snotty brats running around throwing fireballs.

"I'll let her know."

Turning toward the place where the spring entered the mountain, Koshchei's form stretched until it became two and a half feet wide, and wiggled itself into the tunnel.