227
Chapter 227 : The Nature Of Strength
“First off, I want to start by saying that you’ve all done well to complete the basic survival training.”
“Basic training? We just memorized a bunch of stuff.” Shula muttered. She shrank back as Oliver leveled his gaze towards her momentarily before continuing his own speech.
“As some of you have no doubt realized, there is much more to adventuring than going out and slaying monsters -- regardless of what you may have been taught initially.”
This time he stared at Agni, causing her to avert her gaze. She couldn’t help but do so considering the wave of uncomfortable heat which caused her face to flush. She knew full well that Oliver was speaking on Bracha’s lax tutelage during her earlier days.
“With this in mind we will now move onto what I like to call ‘active training’.” Oliver stopped to face the group of adventurers before him. Many of them gave their full attention, and for that he was grateful. As he thought back to his most harrowing experience, Oliver Pagnal realized how blessed he was to be alive. A foe in the deep dark, shrouded in a veil of mist -- he recalled the events in his head many times over since then.
The most prevalent thought which occurred to the Archmage was this, “It is not enough.” His actions weren’t enough, the actions of his chapel mates -- none of it was sufficient. If not for a series of near miraculous events, everyone would have died horrible deaths. These thoughts which lingered on the fringes of his mind served to shape the ideals he sought to impart today. He carefully thought about what he wanted to convey before speaking once again.
“What is strength? What is power? Can anyone here tell me?” Oliver asked, it was a rare moment of audience involvement which, truthfully, caught everyone off guard.
“The ability to subjugate your foe, regardless of the situation.” This was the answer from an unexpected source, Kara, one of the newest additions to Mystic Tower chapel.
“That is a surprisingly good answer. Indeed, you are correct Kara. But, how can you make sure to subjugate your foe -- regardless of the situation?” Oliver next asked.
“Wouldn’t the easiest way be to make sure you’re more powerful than your opponent?” Next to answer was Suina.
“That’s one way. But, to be honest, such a thing as absolute strength does not exist.” Even as Oliver spoke he couldn’t help but think back to a certain moment in time. He recalled the time when Vivian Lex described the events that occurred shortly after they were saved from red shard. She told him how a single person easily ended the foe they had so much trouble with.
He had to admit, upon hearing of such a display of power, Oliver had not been happy. Since then Oliver’s original displeasure had died down, but in some ways his annoyances remained. After all, if there was one thing all adventurers had in common, it was a desire for power. He felt it was only natural to be envious of someone stronger -- and to desire possessing such power himself.
It was his nature and his way as an Archmage. The Archmage class was one that coveted the acquisition of techniques and spells. His entire build was predicated around this notion and in his youth, Oliver put his abilities to great use.
With a single glance he could acquire the abilities of others and use them at will. There were, of course, limits to his own capabilities but in theory -- as long as one used the correct spell at the correct time, they would be undefeated.
At least this was Oliver’s original, naive thinking. This thought alone carried him for the longest of times.
*No, if I’m honest with myself, it was just my ego talking.* He thought inwardly. These words were a silent admonishment, proof that he’d resolved to grow stronger than his past self.
“I’m willing to admit absolutes in life are...rare. But isn’t there a source of strength or power that surpasses all?” Once more it was Kara speaking. It seemed to Oliver that his counter question had somehow irked the young woman, but he ignored that entirely.
“Because, I’ve seen what could amount to the pinnacle of strength in this world. With my own eyes. The difference between myself and ‘that’ could be described as superstition. The phenomena in which humans label things they can’t conceive or simply do not understand as ‘impossible’ or ‘other-worldly’.” Oliver’s brow furrowed as a clear image of Zero’s “simple” parlor tricks replayed in his mind. He hadn’t even been present to see them, yet based on Vivian’s intel the man had performed feats far beyond most adventurers.
“So I will rephrase my question. What is true power?” Oliver asked once more. This time everyone was silent. He looked from face to face, noting the thoughtfulness in each. He didn’t expect an answer in truth. He’d just defied their very idea of what strength was. For quite a while Oliver was lost in thought himself about this very same topic. He spent days thinking of the best way to communicate the difference between himself and that man to others.. This was the message he settled upon.
After a few more moments of silence Oliver spoke again.
“True strength is when you become the monster. The whisper at the edge of your enemy’s lips. The force that others fear to oppose and love to revere. Until you can accomplish this, you are nothing more than average -- a pebble on the sands of an unknown beach.”
His words were meant to sting and make them feel small, after all this was a sobering truth that Oliver himself had been forced to accept. A bittering pill that wormed its way down his throat and lingered in his stomach. Something that was now burned into his soul in the face of overwhelming strength.
“If, in battle you give your all and your foe still remains -- what else do you have? Death? Do you just give up? Do you roll over and die?” Oliver asked next, unexpectedly for some.
For the folks present in the latest rescue mission, it struck a very personal chord. Even now Agni could feel the creeping crawl of black tendrils at the edge of her thoughts. She struggled with the feeling of being constricted by hundreds of tendrils. The thoughts even visited her as nightmares. Agni suspected that Shula may have picked up on these feelings through their bond inadvertently. Agni noticed there were times where Shula made an effort to be closer. She’d even taken to sleeping in Agni’s bed at night when the stray thoughts bubbled forth to the surface as night terrors.
“What else is there in the face of insurmountable force?” Kara asked. This time, rather than annoyance, Oliver observed a keen interest in her gaze.
“Since arriving in Adventia many of us have seen wondrous and terrible things. In a world filled with magic and monsters it’s easy to lose sight of one simple fact.” Oliver paused and folded his arms, he seemed to be reaffirming his own thoughts as he spoke.
“This world, this reality in which we exist -- there are rules that govern it regardless of our powers. When we are cut, we heal -- but we still bleed, do we not? The same is true for our foes, regardless of how powerful they may be. No matter how thick their skin, the carefully chosen blade will reach their heart.”
“So what exactly are you saying?” Kara seemed a bit impatient, this very thirst for knowledge of power caused Oliver to smile. It reminded him of himself in his younger days, voraciously acquiring techniques and abilities in search of a greater strength.
Looking back, Oliver realized the answer had always been in front of his face. He’d made a great effort to amass hundreds of abilities and spells. The reality was he rarely used more than a dozen of them. Sure, he had them at his disposal but they existed more as status to him. Something that he could brag about to gain notoriety or favor. The actual number of the skills he managed to make effective use of in any given situation -- if he was honest with himself the number was low.
The “truth” represented his current location, his position in this chapel. Mystic Tower wasn’t any much different than most other magic chapels for someone like Oliver Pagnal. After all, as long as he possessed a place to acquire new powers it didn’t truly matter where he laid his head. The difference lay elsewhere, namely the doyenne, Vivian Lex. From the beginning Oliver knew that challenging a third ranker would be difficult. But what intrigued him the most was the way the Kitsune managed to checkmate him with just one of her abilities, a single technique.
At first the very notion of being defeated by someone using a such a simple method as ‘extending a weapon’ was an affront to his sensibilities. That’s why he never thought twice about joining the same chapel as the person who allowed him to taste defeat.
It wasn’t a stretch to say that Oliver Pagnal only joined Mystic Tower in order to place himself next to his prey. To glean the secret of her strength and devise a plan to steal it for himself, defeat her or preferably both. He sought to unravel the secret behind Vivian Lex’s power, glean some larger benefit for himself and then acquire her powers by any means. This was normal and he’d done it dozens of times in the past before without care or a thought.
This was his own naivety at work. Not only did Vivian Lex conceal her true powers at all times, she rarely even showed a fraction of her true abilities. Despite this she doled out defeat after defeat to the Archmage. Mercilessly and without reservation.
Each defeat only served to deepen his resolve to get closer to her, so Oliver never thought twice about accepting more duties or responsibilities. It was necessary to observe his prey, after all.
And then, several years later, he found himself as her second in command. Somehow all of those ambitions faded and he found himself in a comfortable place. A place he had come to recognize as home. And while he didn’t necessarily lament this situation, he also realized that he lost something very important along the way. Something he wished to convey to the people gathered before him.
The nature of strength. A burning desire that would not be denied, until it was.
“I’m saying that there are many ways to acquire strength, to get closer to this ideal of absolute strength. To cross the bridge into a territory where your foes will either lament their decision to challenge you, or never live to tell of your fearsomeness.” Oliver Pagnal had made up his mind.
He tapped into a side of himself that belayed his original thirst for growth and power, reaffirming his own resolve (as much as teaching) while he spoke.
“Today, I will share with you the absolute fastest way I know of to double or even triple your strength. If you can take my words to heart and diligently practice these three ideals, you will find your options in battle greatly increase. And along with that your strength will as well.”
“Behold.” Oliver then said as he lifted his right hand. Almost immediately mana particles began to swirl and shape themselves into the shape of a sword. This sword was first bluish then transitioned into a color which closely resembled yellow lightning. The mana then shaped itself into a one handed sword which Oliver pointed towards a tree stump in the distance.
Next the “sword” began to rapidly extend, piercing the tree stump completely. Agni recognized this sort of attack well, she had the ability to do something similar as did Vivian Lex. This happened so quickly that unless one paid complete attention they would have missed it. Then, just as quickly, the blade of magic retracted, dissipaing as Oliver willed the weapon to disappear.
“What did you notice?” He then asked the group at large.
“You made a magical construct and pierced that tree stump.” Kara spoke aloud. She seemed less than impressed with Oliver’s demonstration.
“Correct. But you’re missing several important aspects of the demonstration.” Oliver replied.
“Like?” Kara asked, her eyebrow raising slightly. The woman’s eyes were sharp as she sought to appraise what she might have overlooked.
“Simplicity is the most powerful tool in your arsenal. I used a common spell from the Battle Mage class called ‘Conjure Dagger’. So…”
“So?” Kara asked. She seemed confused as to why Oliver paused, as if awaiting her to connect some unseen points.
“So why did my ‘dagger’ manifest as a sword? And.. why did the nature of the mana change, causing it to turn yellow in color? What intent or nature did I add to the magic? How did the dagger extend? The spell ‘Conjure Dagger’ simply creates a dagger without those capabilities. So, if I only used one spell..how did I do all of those things?”
Now that Oliver’s series of questions were out in the open, no one seemed to really have an answer.
After giving the group some time to think Oliver answered directly, something he usually didn’t do.
“This demonstration is at the heart of what I want to teach you. You have, all of you, unique skills that are unlocked on your path of growth. These skills and abilities define your class. While you can build your stats and invest in the skills or abilities you want, all of them are useful to your class. But, did you realize that you can use just about every skill you acquire in a way that is not consistent with its definition?”
Once more, Oliver’s question seemed to switch on a light bulb for everyone present. Rather than stop and allow them to work things out for themselves, Oliver continued.
“Fireballs can be enlarged or condensed. You can even use fireballs to engulf the attacks of your foes and deal lethal damage so long as you have the skill to do so. This idea applies to every skill or ability in existence. They can all be used in unforeseen methods.”
“I’ll say it plainly. The most effective way to acquire more power at any given point in your journeys is to master the abilities and skills you currently possess WHILE leveling up. Until you can use your skills at will, you are leaving wasted potential in your wake. Master your skills until they function like an extension of you and you’ve gained a massive advantage in combat.”
“Just learning the skill is not enough. Use it until you feel sick in your stomach and your legs grow weak. Use it until you detest it, until you can activate it in your sleep--and then use it even more -- until it becomes a true part of you. Something as natural as breathing, as natural as blinking.”
“And then you wield this power at those who dare challenge you until any and all adversaries bow to you. Your desire must be firm, it must be strong and it must be this intense.” Oliver’s voice deepened as his own personal lust for power began to leak out. His mana responded in kind to his intentions, causing a slightly oppressive force to seep outward towards those gathered. This too was intentional on his part, he wanted them to firmly grasp his next words -- to commit them to heart.
“Are you fighting a monster that regenerates from piercing blows? Then remove it’s limbs and ravage it. Is your foe too fast? Then cripple them and show no mercy. Sharpen your mind, surpass your self limitations and cleave anything asunder if it stands in your way.” Oliver accentuated his point by recreating his conjured dagger and lifting his right hand high above his head.
He then shaped the blade so that it was paper thin, extending it outward by a great distance. Once this was done his hand fell like the axe of an executioner. This time the tree stump was split cleanly in two, along with a two meter stretch of dirt near it.
“Even if the obstacle is yourself, cleave through. If your resolve is not at least this strong, some day what you hold dear -- the things you hope to protect will fall to the wayside. And you will be humbled by someone else because of your own lack of preparation.”
“This is a self fulfilling prophecy you write for yourself, unless you shatter the chains of your own thoughts.” For just a brief moment Oliver tapped into a deeper, more cold version of himself. One that he had long since lost to comfort and convenience. He did this purposely in a controlled manner, because his desire was not to intimidate, but to inspire. He felt this deeply more than anything,as a senior member of Mystic Tower.
*All of these faces. I want to see you here again, and teach you as many lessons as possible.* Even as this feeling swelled within Oliver’s chest he recalled Zero’s words in Vivian Lex’s office. At that time he struggled to give voice to his own misgivings, but after some thought Oliver realized the words he dared not ask.
*What do Gods fear?*
When Oliver next glanced at the faces of all those present he realized, based on their expressions, that his teachings were beginning to take root. With a smile he dissipated his magical construct and began to counsel them more on the nature of strength.