PATRIARCH FOWL

Casual Heroing, Chapter 156

Added 2023-08-02 19:09:14 +0000 UTC

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Chapter 156 - People-person

“But at this current speed, I won’t be able to wield that sword in ten days.”

Magister Mulligan’s frown deepens.

“I ran the math as I was training,” I tell him. “At this rate, there’s no way I can lift a sword that heavy in any less than ten days. Which would leave me, what, three and a half days to train against the puppet? So, either I give up on the sword, or we find a better plan. I know the sword is enchanted and whatnot, but this is what reality looks like.”

“The Puppet is going to use a Vanedeni sword, young Luciani. If you don’t use the same weapon, you are guaranteed to lose,” Magister Mulligan says casually, but it sounds more like a life sentence verdict than an off-hand remark.

“You can’t stack more runes on top of each other, can you?” I ask the man without really hoping for a positive answer—he would have already done so if it was possible.

“Not without a class. Young Luciani, I feel the need to be more honest with you since you seem to believe that your current rate of progress will not be enough. It is likely that you will obtain a class with the ‘Runic’ prefix. [Runic Warrior], in your case, would be the easiest. A class with ‘Runic’ in it means the runes on your body will be more efficient. I can’t give you a number since I can’t predict which skills you’ll receive, but it is very likely that, in two days at best, you’ll be advancing between 20-35% faster than you currently are.”

“I already factored in something like that,” I frown. “And I thought that the bonuses would be better than that. Heh, whatever.”

Magister Mulligan stares at me with an eyebrow raised.

“What?” I ask. “I don’t want to die, dude. What the hell am I supposed to do? Just take it? I don’t want to train mindlessly if it’s not going to make me win. The rate of advancement of the puppet means that I need, at the very least, around fifteen levels in a good class, right? If the puppet is my potential as a level 20 [Champion], I would need at least a level 15 [Runic Champion], no? And why were you even withholding that from me?”

“Not knowing things, as we already demonstrated, can lead you down wondrous paths, young Luciani.”

“Yeah, it can also lead to my death. Anyway, I was thinking about a solution to, you know, avoid becoming a shish kebab on the last day here.”

“You don’t think that training, even with these weights of yours, will be enough? What else can you do, then?”

I look at my arms and the old man.

“If you mastered the Dreamscape technique, you could probably overcome your natural limits.”

“If… could… I don’t like those words when my life is at stake, you know? I’m pretty sure that there are better options than relying on some old technique that only psychopaths mastered, even among your people or whatever. Heh. No… I have the seed of something in my mind. But it feels like it’s still just a bit too far. I feel like a prisoner in jail with the keys to their cell just an inch from what the cell bars allow his hand to reach.”

“I am not aware of any other technique that might provide you with assistance, Joey Luciani.”

“Listen, about that,” I say, “that [Mindful Clarity] is still active?”

“It is.”

“Alright, can you make it stronger? Like, is there a superior version of it you can cast? I just need five minutes. I am seeing things in my head, thinking of people… putting the dots together. But I can’t work it out just yet. It feels like I’m in waist-high, solid mud.”

“[Mindful Clarity] is already a perfected spell that requires the finest control of magical theory and the most elegant handling of the spell matrixes that—“

“Is there a stronger version or not?” I ask.

“Yes,” Magister Mulligan sighs. “[Mindful Clarity] can be enhanced further into [Crystal Thoughts] and [Threading Mind]. There are drawbacks to using either of the two. The first is an enhanced version of [Mindful Clarity] and simply brings even more clarity to your thoughts, whereas the second brings your mind above its limits. I had it as a permanent skill. I could cast it on you, but it would last barely five minutes, and there’s a concrete risk that it could forever damage you if your mind is not strong enough.”

“Well, that won’t be a problem,” I say, blinking a few times, “this brain of mine was already good back on Earth. If it’s latent power that the skill goes against, I’m going to be fine. Otherwise, I’ll fry my brain instead of dying. A swifter death like this might be better; who knows.”

For the first time since we got into this dimension, Magister Mulligan seems hesitant.

“Young Luciani,” he speaks with a hint of doubt in his words, “I have faith in your talent, but intuition and raw processing power are two different things. A mind like mine could handle it because it was forged by the continuous usage of extremely complex magic. Yours… I don’t know if it will be able to withstand the pressure of the skill for even five minutes. You might actually die.”

“Aren’t I already risking death anyway? What’s one more gambit?”

“You weren’t this sure about yourself before,” the old man explains.

“I wasn’t,” I say, acknowledging the obvious, “but so what? You’ve got me to sign a magical contract after having me say, ‘I’m special.’ You put your faith in me by pitting me against a deathly puppet that, apparently, is one grade below being some nightmarish powerhouse that could level—Terminator, basically. I’m fighting the beta version of the Terminator, and I have accepted the duel from a racist piece of shit…”

I stumble on my words.

“Magister Mulligan,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’ve got a bunch of mess out there. Irene, the girl I kind of like, thinks that I kissed Flaminia. Flaminia, one of the most talented Bakers I’ve ever met, thinks she’s in love with me—which she’s not. The [Soldiers] and their superiors want to see me dead. My mother died three days before I came to this world. With all that’s happened to my family, my friends… I can’t really refuse my duties anymore. I need to believe…”

“And out of all trials I could have asked for… one that needs me to prove my brain functions better than I ever gave it credit for? Please, Magister Mulligan, trust me. It’s my duty to step the fuck up and show that I’ve got a solution.”

Magister Mulligan stops his hand in his beard mid-stroke and looks at me with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. I have no doubt he’s reading my mind or doing something to ascertain what I just told him—even just to make sure I believe my own words.

Which I do.

Never before have I believed in myself this much. Never.

The pain, the suffering… it unblocked something in my head. Looking at the power of the runes—thinking of the people I love and loved…

I know there’s something in the back of my mind that I needto reach. There’s something much bigger than all I’ve done so far. These runes… I’m feeling something. I’m onto something that could very well save my damn life. It’s so close, but so damn far. I wish I was the same child prodigy I had been back then so I could easily grasp this solution…

But as things stand, I need Magister Mulligan’s help to achieve it.