THEOS

Luke winced in pain as the wooden butt of Spiros’s spear dug itself into his abdomen. A few weeks ago, a hit that powerful would have knocked the breath straight out of his lungs, and driven him to his knees. Now? It just stung. A little.

Unfortunately for Luke though, whatever improvements he had made with his Constitution, didn’t help him surpass the difference in skill between them. Not when his opponent had been training with a weapon since he was old enough to hold one. Not even when he accounted for the fact that he had an actual Sword Technique to inform his movements.

Spiros grinned, and before Luke could react, he flicked the spear upward. Hitting Luke lightly on the soft flesh underneath his tongue and grazing his chin. Slowing his strike down just enough that it wouldn’t tear skin, but otherwise letting it hit. Causing Luke to stumble back, dazed from the hit.

If I had been any weaker, that would have knocked me out, and given me some brain damage. It still might have. Luke shook his head clear.

“What is that now? Eighty-five to three?” Spiros withdrew his spear, planting it on the ground and leaning on it. A smug pose if there ever was one.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up while you can. Just because you're better than me now, doesn’t mean that things will stay that way.” He grumbled, cupping his jaw with his hand, as he tried to massage the pain away.

“Mhm.” Spiros hummed. “If you say so. You’d have an easier time if you used a spear. Or a shield for that matter. Everyone knows that a sword loses to a spear. You have no reach.” He lunged forward, suddenly stabbing the air with his weapon to demonstrate his point.

“Then I wouldn’t improve with the Technique.” And I don’t get Stat Points when I kill stuff with a spear, so it doesn’t matter if the spear is objectively the better weapon in some cases, I need to get better and better with a sword.

“How is that going?”

Luke navigated to his status screen.

Status | Skills | Quests | Inventory

First Stance of the Sword

Tier: Mortal

Progress: 4.99%

“Not great. I haven’t improved at all in a week.” Luke said, walking to the end of the arena. Picking up a towel, he wiped the sweat from his face.

“What about the other two?”

Status | Skills | Quests | Inventory

First Stance of the Shield

Tier: Mortal

Progress: 4.99%

First Stance of the Spear

Tier: Mortal

Progress: 4.99%

There's something I’m still missing. He thought to himself, a hint of frustration making its way onto his face as he read the cards.

“Same.” He replied curtly. Having decided to pick up the skills in spite of his initial reservations. A decision that he was beginning to suspect, would come back and bite him in the ass, but at the same time, he felt that he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Not if he wanted to leave any time soon, and not when others had begun outpacing him.

“Well at least you can do them.” Spiros glanced meaningfully at the large assortment of people meditating at the foot of each podium. There had been a surge of people who managed to figure out the techniques in the first few days. Something that had trickled away since then. Roughly a third of the hundred people who had made this far into the tomb had picked up at least one of the Techniques, but after the end of the first week, no one else had managed.

Luke spotted Trixie, her hair was messy, and deep bags had formed under her eyes. Even with their best attempts at explaining the techniques, she hadn’t been able to learn them.

Seeing as they were going into their third week now, tempers were starting to flare with increasing frequency. Especially among the majority of the people who had made no progress, and were fast losing hope of ever making their way out of here.

A fear that was further exacerbated by the fact that nearly all of those who had learned one technique, had managed to make progress on the other two, and rather quickly at that. Further stroking their fear of being left behind.

“It’s not like we’re any better off. We’re all still stuck in here aren’t we?”

“Come on. It’s only a matter of time. And look,” he nodded to the far corner of the room where Arya was moving through the First Stance of the Sword with what could tentatively be described as a normal speed, “she looks like she almost has it. Barely any resistance. She’s just as good with the other two techniques as well.”

Luke looked over, and shook his head. She was progressing, and fast. Faster than anyone else trapped in the Tomb.

Clearly her being the first person to pick up a Technique wasn’t a fluke. I wonder what percent she’s at.

“Yeah, she is. Anyways, I was thinking about fighting a mid-stage monster later. Spot me?”

“Yeah. Are you sure though? After what happened to Len, I figured you’d want to wait a little longer.”

“He was an idiot. He fought a turtle, and he expected someone with a bow to be able to help him. A turtle! They have shells! I don’t know what either of them were thinking. Besides, I’ve gotten a lot stronger since I’ve been here. I think I can handle it, and if not, that’s what you're there for right?.” Luke grinned at him. “And I’ll make sure whatever monster I choose is soft enough for you to pepper it with arrows.”

“Pepper?” Spiros grinned “I like that one. I’m going to steal it.” He responded, used to the strange phrases that inadvertently made their way into Luke’s sentences. Something Luke had given up on hiding, and instead had taken to blaming any oddities in his speech on the Fisherman’s Wife. She was quickly becoming an urban legend in Spiros’s head. A master of idioms and strange expressions.

“If you say you can, I believe you. Have you seen Len by the way, he hasn’t come out of his room since he got bit. Think he died?”

“Maybe, can’t say for sure though. Not like any of us can check. Even if he’s alive, does it matter?” Luke lowered his voice. “He lost an arm, I doubt he’s going to be able to get out of here now.”

“Yeah… that’s unfortunate.” Spiros scratched his chin. “I really didn’t think a turtle would be that fast.”

“It wasn’t just a turtle was it? It was a midstage monster. He should have known better than to underestimate it.”

“I guess that’s true.” He stretched out his arms. “I’m going to eat and shower, I'll be back in an hourish.” He said walking away. “Pick a good monster, I don’t want to wait hours for you to make up your mind again.”

Watching him go, Luke found a quiet spot and drew his sword. Settling into the now familiar motions of the Sword Skill while he waited for Spiros to return. Moving slowly but gracefully from one stance to the next. Aware of every movement his body made.

Acutely feeling his mana expanding and contracting with each breath. Slowly draining and replenishing with every second that passed, in an endless cycle.

Where is it going though?

It was a question that he’d asked himself many times over the weeks, but one that he was no closer to finding an answer to.

It’s not going into my sword, and it's not escaping through my skin. It’s like it just vanishes. But where? Is it just the cost of the technique, but it’s not like there’s anything magical happening. Is there?

Completing the full range of motions he picked a wooden training spear from the rack, and went through the motions for it as well.

Initially, once he’d been able to move, advancing his progress in the techniques had been simple. All he had to do was imitate the movements, however slowly, and the progress bar would tick up. Something that all three Techniques had shared. As the percentage went up, the resistance had decreased, letting him go through the motions slightly faster each time.

It had been exciting, just watching the numbers on his status increase, and surprisingly motivating. Each fraction of a percent released a surge of dopamine in his brain. Awesome, until the progress he’d been making slowed, then eventually came to a halt as he approached the five percent mark. The numbers now haunted him.

Completing the Spear Stance he put it away and picked up a shield.

Still four-point-nine-nine. This is fucking bullshit.

He turned to Arya, and did his best to ignore the spike of jealousy that ran through him as she flowed from form to form, nearly three times as fast as he had.

She had figured something out, but hadn’t been able to articulate it well enough for Luke to progress his own understanding of the skills. Which was par for the course, Luke’s own ramblings had flown over her head too.

Whatever the Truth or Core of the skills was, it was clear to him that it was the same for everyone of them, and failing that, very similar. Enough that it translated equally well to the progress of all three Techniques.

Alright, basically we all understand different aspects of the same thing. And that thing is at the center of each technique. I just don’t know what that thing is. Not yet. So all I have to do is, figure out what that thing is, or just flesh my own understanding of that out better. Easier said than done, that’s for sure.

His eyes were drawn back to Arya. Whatever she’s understood, is just taking her further than what I did. That’s cool. I just have to keep at it. Unravel the mystery bit by bit. Easy.

Picking up his sword again, Luke once again began to go through the forms. Before he suddenly stopped himself, and picked up his shield.

If I have a sword, I’ll have a shield. If I’m holding both, then that means I should be able to use both the First Stance of the Sword and the First Stance of the Shield at the same time.

His eyes darted between the figures of the Hero, one wielding a sword and the other a shield. Analyzing each dance, trying to puzzle together how he could make them fit.

Awkwardly, he raised his shield, like he was blocking an attack, and immediately followed it with a swing of his sword.

There’s no resistance. What if I do this…

Just holding the shield at his side, for the moment not doing anything with it, he swung his sword down. Falling into a trance as he went through the motions of the Sword Stance. Ignoring the shield on his arm, he looped through the whole dance once, then again, and then again. Wholly immersing himself in the movements.

The fourth time, he just held his sword, and instead followed the movements of the Shield Stance. Seamlessly transitioning between them, without a pause.

He continued like that, alternating between Shield and Sword, for hours. Ignoring both thirst and hunger as he tried to understand the purpose of the movements.

Every swing of my sword is lethal, and every move I make with the shield blocks an attack and leaves the opponent open to a counter strike. Just as lethal as my sword, despite me hitting it with a shield instead of a blade. Death is inevitable after all.

Even though the motions are different, their purpose is the same.

The sword deflects like a shield, and the shield in the absence of a weapon is one. They kill indiscriminately.

Suddenly something clicked in Luke’s head. He swung his sword, ducked under an imaginary hit, and raised his shield to ward off the would-be attack. The constant resistance eased away to almost nothing, and he felt the percentages on his Status climb. Faster than they ever had before. His mana drained away, as if it was fueling his inspiration, and he stumbled onto his knees a moment later when it hit zero.

The world started to turn black and white and a buzzing sound echoed through his skull.

Fighting off the dizziness with his will alone, he called up his Status, and navigated to the Skill Tab. Grinning in excitement as he read the percentages.

Status | Skills | Quests | Inventory

First Stance of the Sword

Tier: Mortal

Progress: 49.99%

First Stance of the Shield

Tier: Mortal

Progress: 49.99%

Now that’s progress.