Charlemagne reappeared in the disheveled smithy.

  "Wherever did you go now?" Phatatin complained. "It seems that we cannot go half an hour without you suddenly disappearing. No reward is worth all this hassle. I should just give up and stay in the castle."

  "All Squires must attend their Knights at all times, including during all Events," Josephine stated flatly, as if she was quoting from a rulebook. "Failure to do so will result in not only disqualification of the Squire, but also confiscation of previously earned rewards and potential punishment, depending on the circumstances that led to noncompliance."

  "Bawk?" the rooster asked her.

  "Yes, as an Attendant I too am bound to accompany you, within limits, of course."

  "Well, if I am unable to remove myself from the situation, at the very least I should get the most out of the experience as I can. You might not be aware of this, but I do possess a life of my own. Were I not stuck here, I would either be out locating my next mate or resting up. I believe my labors have earned me a respite."

  "Wait, you wanna kick back and take things easy? That doesn't sound like appropriate Squire behavior. You should be working hard to advance your Knight's mission."

  "Bawk," the rooster added in support of that idea.

  The pangolin laughed derisively.

  "If 'Ser Charlemagne' ever develops a goal beyond 'kill everything, eat everything, and find as many hens as possible', I will be the first in line to support him. Until then, I'd like to continue my smithing lesson, which was unfortunately interrupted."

  "Bawk," Charlemagne noted.

  "What? The instructor will no longer work with us," Phatagin complained. "Then I demand a refund! Oh, hold please...well, I just received a refund. So if you are quite through destroying the smithy, we can complete the rest of the tour."

  "It sounds like you might be fatigued, Squire Phatagin," Josephine suggested. "Perhaps you would like to be shown to your chambers?"

  The pangolin sighed.

  "Well, I suppose you might be correct in this instance. It has been a rather trying day. It only feels like a few hours have passed since I was repeatedly dying in the Individual Battle Simulation in order to augment my Skills. And besides, I am a bit of a night owl still, despite all the genetic changes I've undergone. I'd much prefer to take a nap and start again fresh."

  "There are still about twelve hours until the next event starts. I recommend you spend most of them resting," the Attendant advised.

  "Bawk," Charlemagne agreed. Having thoroughly ruined his Squire's lesson, he was now bored with the tour and ready to start the Delve. He wasn't really interested in learning how to shape metal, since he already possessed a set of suitable items that he felt comfortable wearing, and he was certain that the Squiggles would give him more if he won the Elite Systemic Games. But gaining a new Skill was always nice, especially when they came with Achievements.

  The trio exited the smithy, and Josephine led them through another maze of winding staircases, corridors lit by everburning torches, and even between different towers within the sprawling edifice. Finally, she stopped in front of an ornate wooden door, which bore Charlemagne's coat of arms.

  "Here are your chambers. I will be retiring myself, but if you call my name I will appear at once," the Attendant explained.

  "Does this summoning ability only work for Charlemagne, or do I also possess the right to do so?" Phatagin inquired.

  "Either of you may summon me," she answered.

  "Bawk," Charlemagne demanded.

  "Well, Ser Charlemagne, it is highly inappropriate for me to enter your chambers. You should have everything that you require to prepare for your journey within, such as suitable nourishment and a place to rest."

  "Bawk?"

  "Well, it's because I'm a lady and you're...well because the rules say I'm not supposed to. Honestly, Ser Charlemagne, your behavior is simply uncouth and ill-mannered!"

  "I advise saving your rebukes. They fall upon deaf ears," Phatagin stated bluntly before sighing once again. "Ser Charlemagne, I will endeavor to meet all your needs while our Attendant is indisposed."

  The rooster motioned toward the door, which suddenly opened of its own volition. The pangolin entered the chambers beyond, followed by the rooster.

  "Oh my, what have I gotten myself into," Josephine complained to herself after the pair vanished. "I just cannot believe that I have to cater to that...that utter brute. Why, he, he..."

  Unable to think of anything that Charlemagne had actually done that seriously violated her own ethics or the rules of the Elite Systemic Games, Josephine lapsed into annoyed silence for a few moments before speaking out loud to herself again.

  "Whatever...I only have three thousand, six hundred, and nineteen years left on this stupid contract, and then I'm free! Unless I get penalized again...but that won't happen!"

  Then she disappeared into thin air.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  After getting Charlemagne settled in, the hours passed slowly for Phatagin, who found himself unable to sleep despite his fatigue. Eventually, the insomnia-stricken pangolin gave up on getting rest, made his way outside and summoned Josephine. Less than ten minutes later (and after paying another fee in Shop Points), he found himself staring at his abdomen, following the instructions of a sentient plant that looked like a sunflower.

  “Look deep inside yourself, young Squire. Feel for the spark of primal energy that inhabits you. Once you’ve done that, trace your way outward, noticing how your inner light is connected to the universe around us.”

  Phatagin tried his hardest to find the ambient mana that surely resided within him, but his Momentum Core’s energy signature was so strong that it almost entirely blocked him from sensing any other forms of energy residing inside him. His circulatory system was actually where he got the best read: the adrenalin flowing through his blood was enhanced by the System’s mana, and faint wisps of it occasionally leaked out.

  Still, however, the sensation was fleeting. As soon as he felt that he had a read on a particular portion of the mystical energy coursing through him, it was already gone. By way of contrast, his Momentum Core was always there, tempting his attention away from the weak traces of power that marked the passage of mana through his body.

  “You’re drifting away again on a cloud woven from your worries,” the instructor chided. “Recenter yourself and think about all the times that you’ve seen another being use mana. What did it feel like?”

  What did it feel like to see Charlemagne utilize his ultimate weapon, the pangolin wondered. Terrifying, for one thing. It also made him envious: the rooster’s powers were simply ridiculous. Flight, super speed, super strength, durability, fast healing, and an overpowered attack that could take out multiple foes at once. How on Earth was he supposed to catch up to that?

  Taking a deep breath, Phatagin pushed the defeatist thoughts away. He didn’t have to be better than the rooster. He just had to be better than the Phatagin of the past. He would get better, step by step, as long as laziness didn’t win out. The urge to give up and just return back to the chambers he shared with Charlemagne was strong, but he fought that down too. There was no way that he was returning until he achieved his goal, which was to obtain the Skill Mana Manipulation, or something similar to it.

  His time grinding in the Battle Simulations had shown him that, although his Momentum Core was strong by itself, it was ultimately too limiting when facing strong foes. His Core had strict limits on the amount of kinetic energy it could steal and contain. There were a few ways that he could address that limitation, according to the information that he had gathered before being stolen away to join the Systemic Games. The first way was just to keep leveling up his Core. It was currently at level 11, which he felt was quite respectable given how slowly Advanced Skills were said to level. The second was to evolve his Momentum Core into a stronger version of itself: such as a Kinetic Core or a Catalyst Core. Since he was already working on the first and had no idea how to achieve the second, Phatagin was working on option number three: obtain complementary Skills and use them to increase his limits.

  Unfortunately, the Skills he had found for sale that might have done just that were all out of his price range, especially now that he had spent even more Shop Points to get a private lesson on sensing and manipulating mana. But he was hoping that his gamble here would pay off. If not, at least it was a profitable way to pass the time. He idly wondered what Josephine did when neither he nor Charlemagne needed her around. A calm voice suddenly intruded, effectively derailing his train of thought.

  “Your mind is still so turbulent. It is the eve before the first Event, is it not? Have you truly come here to learn, or are you merely using this session as a way to occupy your time?”

  The pangolin did not know how to answer the question. An awkward silence settled in between the two creatures, but the instructor did not appear to be in a hurry to receive an answer. Phatagin spent a long time contemplating the question before responding.

  “I believe it might be both, as well as a third reason, for which I apologize. I am not exactly at my best at the moment.”

  “I see. And what might that third reason be, if you are open to sharing?” the instructor answered.

  The pangolin sighed.

  “The third reason is that I feel compelled to catch up to Charlemagne. That is, Ser Charlemagne, my Knight. He is unreasonably strong, and the gap between us grows by the day.”

  “Are you willing to do what it takes in order to obtain the Skill you are seeking? Even if it involves discomfort?” the instructor asked.

  “Yes, I would be remiss if I did not do everything in my power to improve myself. I owe it to my Patron, to myself, and…and even to Charlemagne. Do what you must.”

  “Very well,” the instructor responded as it pushed itself to its full height using a quartet of appendages that looked a lot like roots. As it loomed over Phatagin, a strange weight descended, leaving the pangolin straining to breathe normally.

  “GET UP!” the instructor yelled. Phatagin scrambled to obey, but the weight seemed to grow heavier every time he attempted to move his body. Something was fighting against him…something in the very air.

  “I SAID GET UP!” the plantlike being yelled, its yellow face quickly darkening into a rich orange color.

  “DODGE!” it demanded, lashing out at the pangolin with one of its root-like legs. Phatagin received a glancing blow and was sent sprawling against the far wall. He attempted to rise, but his body felt heavier than pure metal.

  “I’M COMING AGAIN!” the other creature warned. Phatagin tapped into his Momentum Core, pulling out just enough stored energy to allow him to curl into a ball and zip away from the next flailing attack. But the instructor wasn’t going to let him go that easily. It followed him, throwing out lash after lash at the rolled-up pangolin as Phatagin swerved and dodged, using more and more of the stored up energy as the losses from converting inertia to potential energy and back again began to mount.

  “NOT GOOD ENOUGH!” the instructor screamed after scoring a direct hit on Phatagin’s body. Although his scales were tough, the sheer force of the impact left mild bruising. In the grand scheme of things, it was a very minor wound. But minor wounds had a way of adding up. In under a minute, the pangolin had accumulated another ten of them. Worse, he was beginning to slow down. His Momentum Core, already taxed by the constant stopping and starting, was already under halfway full. Even siphoning off some of the force behind each strike wasn’t allowing him to replenish his Momentum Core’s reserves as quickly as they were being drained. He needed a new strategy. He needed a new energy source.

  He needed mana.

  Diverting as much of his attention away from the all too real game of cat and mouse, Phatagin looked not within him but all around him. Since the instructor wasn’t using a form of energy that he recognized to restrict his movements, it must be using mana in great quantities to accomplish that effect. If he could just harness that mana, he believed that he could use the mystical energy to refill his Momentum Core. But, despite feeling what must be mana in the air all around him, he still wasn’t able to do anything to it. He was just as stuck as he had been before agreeing to a bout of sadism masquerading as training.

  “DODGE!” the instructor cried again, blurring through the air faster than the pangolin could follow. Phatagin pushed his Core to the limit, drawing on the very last dregs. His sudden burst of speed carried him right into the wall before he could compensate, dazing him.

  “TOO SLOW!”

  Time seemed to slow down as a powerful appendage slashed out, backed with enough force to crush bone if it connected. But something unexpected occurred, saving the pangolin at the last moment.