Chapter 116: Survivor Chic

  Hot air whistled around Parth as he kept jumping at a steady pace. The thin rope of fire looped around him with each jump. Jump rope was one of his favorite cardio exercises. And as a boxer, it was his bread and butter.

  Fast-paced music blared over his earphones as he timed his jumps with the beats. A quick warm-up session like this before a big fight was essential. This was his happy spot, and the exercise activated not just his muscles and joints but also put him in the right headspace. It felt meditative. The pre-fight jitters were there as usual. But they didn’t affect him much this time. Instead, he felt a serene calm throughout his being. After being put through so much, it felt nice to go back to his roots.

  Every alternate jump, the fiery jump rope switched colors.

  One jump, it was the usual reddish-orange. The next jump was blue. It was a bit hard at the beginning, just like learning to do jump rope cardio and the various tricks involved. So he went back to basics: one jump and a pause. Then another jump while switching colors and another pause. He kept doing that until he got used to the rhythm, and then he began belting it out.

  He did a few criss-crosses, a few side-to-sides, stretches of jog steps, and boxer steps, the whole shebang.

  Ever since he woke up, his entire being felt different. Not just his body, not just his mind, but his everything. The connection that he had to his mana had deepened to an absurd level. Simply sending mana to his gauntlets generated his usual flames at a very high heat. He didn’t even have to think about temperature for that. But the moment he concentrated on the temperature and fine-tuned the intent and efficiency, it turned blue.

  And by god were the blue flames a game changer. The drake was no simple monster. It was touted to be stronger than lindwyrms of the same size. This one was a tad smaller than the lindwyrm Parth had faced back in the first trial. But it was just as dangerous, maybe even more so.

  Yet, he’d only needed three punches. That’s all it had taken. He had come a far way.

  Sometimes it didn’t seem like so because of the constant threat of so many monsters, so many enemies. Not to mention impossible freaks of nature like the kraken. But he had gotten stronger. And it was nice to get that kind of progress report directly as a result of what was supposed to be a tough fight.

  Finally, when his heart was satiated, he dispelled the rope of fire and stopped jumping. The floor around him was a mess. The town square was already in a pretty bad shape because of all the damage they had done to it. But Parth’s cardio session had just trashed it even further. He had tried his best not to melt the ground off, and he controlled the construct’s temperature adequately. But force was a thing, and constant application of such sheer force from such a potent object would melt stone, especially during the back-and-forth switches with the blue fire.

  He once again glanced at the blobs of lava, which were trying to reform into the golems at a rate worse than a snail’s pace. He could feel their heat signatures vividly in his heatmap. It made him wonder whether he could inject his flames into the lava and control it. There was a brief moment during his fight with the golems where there was essentially a tug of war, which Parth had given up on at that moment.

  But he wondered if he could do it. He should be able to. He remembered Sulien’s crystal. It was solidified mana, compared to lava. Parth was not at that level, but it felt like learning to manipulate something more solid than just flames would be a step in the right direction towards that goal.

  Because he needed to have a goal beyond just fighting and winning. He had realized that when he was meditating. Right now, he didn’t have anything concrete. Self-betterment was always on his plate. Like being able to use blue flames all the time without any extra concentration. Without any accumulating mental exhaustion.

  But progress without a direction didn’t appeal to him. He’d be improving on the other intricacies of his magic. But to what end, though?

  Fire destroyed. But it was also a symbol of rebirth. He needed to learn how to create, with his flames as well. Not just ephemeral constructs of flames. Instead, something concrete. Something that would last the test of time. That sounded like a good goal to work towards.

  Done with the warm-up and the subsequent introspection, he began walking back to the hut. It had been almost three hours since he had woken up. The trial would start in the next few minutes. Most probably, Kwame and Moira were still fussing over that pet project of hers and had lost track of time.

  Normally, he would say that it was not really necessary at this point. But he’d just gotten done thinking about goals and dreams. Maybe this pet project was what got him into that tangent in the first place.

  It was good that Kwame and Moira could enjoy the little bit of happiness that they could secure in any way. Especially if it is something childish. They’re already fighting for their lives; the distraction was a warm welcome.

  With how serious and mature they both acted, Parth sometimes tended to forget that they were still teenagers.

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  And honestly, the pet project was not really a waste of time. He needed something better to wear. Sure, supplies were coming, but his current garb could do with a lot of improvement. He was wearing the bottom of his tattered undersuit with half-shredded armor plates still hanging onto it. And on top of that shorn undersuit, he was wearing Kwame’s basketball shorts. At least the bottom half of his undersuit could be worn. The top was unsalvageable. It was barely hanging on by a thread, and that too had given up more than a week ago.

  Kwame’s shirts were too tight for him. So, right now, he was shirtless. But that would change soon.

  He dropped into the tunnel, and his thoughts were immediately proven right. A normal fireball was floating in the chamber, as he’d instructed it, providing ample light. Moira and Kwame were huddled in a corner, looking at Moira’s pet project. Good old teach Vyasadatta was hovering over them, looking at it curiously.

  “Trial’s about to start in a few minutes. I hope we’re done,” Parth said.

  “Yeah, I’ve added the finishing touches with what we have on hand. Once we go back to Tava, we’ll add the bells and whistles,” Moira said.

  “Would we even need it once we return? I mean, we’ll get new armor once we get back, right?” Parth asked.

  “It’s not just a matter of proper gear, Path. You need to understand the optics of it. We’ll be making a grand statement. Sure, it’s practical too. It provides some amount of protection, both physical and from environmental factors. But it’s the perception that matters. They tried to kill us. But they couldn’t do it. We were stronger than them. And not only that, we return as dragonslayers. Of course, you killed it. But if we both went all out, we could have done it too. Just not as effortlessly as you. And we wouldn’t have enough spare material for these trophies. So, we’ll all be reaping the rewards of a job well done.”

  “And it looks damn cool,” Kwame chirped.

  “It was not a dragon, it was a drake,” Parth corrected her for the umpteenth time. Not that she’d listen.

  “And you think that matters? How many voyages do you think could actually kill such a beast? Not many. Not after being stuck here for three weeks. By the time we come out, it’d be a month that we’d have spent continuously inside the dungeon. Come on, man. I thought you were a fellow sportsman. You should know how PR matters,” Moira said, animatedly. It was not often that she got this excited about something.

  “I don’t really care about all that. I care about winning. I don’t care about the other side of the business. But yes, someone has to. And it’s great that you’re thinking about all that. Also, I do agree with you. It looks amazing. Great job!”

  “You should. You really should care about the business as well. It was the first lesson that my coach taught me, actually. Instead of how to fly fast, he was teaching me how to present the illusion of flying fast.”

  “Oh well, I’m learning here, aren’t I? You’re teaching me. Anyway, which one’s mine?” Parth asked.

  Moira threw him the largest cloak. He effortlessly caught it and spread it out. Taking a proper look at it.

  A full-sized cloak made exclusively of dragon scales. At that point, he had to mentally correct himself. It was not a dragon. They really got to him over the past few hours, if he was also beginning to think of it as dragon scales.

  And honestly, it looked good. Even though it didn’t have many frills and decorations right now. It was a simple cloak of red drake scales. With the supplies on hand, Moira used some of their older bandages to create some makeshift clasps that held the cloak in place. These things were way sturdier than the bandages found on Earth. So, they’d hold for now. Apart from that, it was apparent that Moira and Kwame had spent most of the time cleaning and polishing the scales. Because when Path had handed it over, it didn’t look as shiny.

  Making the cloak itself wasn’t that difficult a process. The hardest task was stripping the scales from the Drake. Except for the head of the drake, the rest of it was completely intact. So they had to salvage all the usable scales from it. Moira used a spade card of hers, Kwame used the blades of his artifact, and Parth simply used his utility knife. Which proved to be a bad decision, as he no longer owned a utility knife.

  They stripped all the scales. Then Path was the one doing the heavy lifting. With fine control, he incinerated all the flesh off the scales without harming the scales themselves. Thankfully, the things were heat-resistant, and by now, he was adept at being able to choose what he wanted to burn and what he didn’t.

  And then finally, under Moira’s careful supervision and instruction, Parth had to heat the scales. Once sufficiently heated, he had to bring them together and apply pressure. He had to carefully fuse them without making it look ugly. Well, the first couple of scales didn’t survive it. But he got the hang of it soon, so there was minimal wastage. And here they were, with three freshly made cloaks.

  Parth draped his cloak over his shoulder and fastened the makeshift clasp. Moira and Kwame got up and did the same. He didn’t have a mirror to look at his reflection, so he just looked at his teammates to get an idea about how the cloaks fit. He could use the rings to capture photos and project them, but that felt like unnecessary effort.

  The cloaks looked heavy. But they draped over their shoulders perfectly. They stopped just above their knees, at the perfect height for each of them. The deep red scales shone and glimmered with each reflection of light. The bandage clasps did look a bit out of place. But Moira had plans for it, so he’d leave her to it.

  Moira was right about it, though. They would be making a statement. Well, those two would be. With the rugged, scratched, and damaged armor and the cloak on top of it. Those two looked actually pretty imposing.

  Parth wasn’t sure what kind of statement he was making because he looked like a vagabond. Even with the cool cloak on. His hair was longer than he was comfortable with. Not to mention the scruffy beard. He wouldn’t mind it if it were properly groomed. It wasn’t, and he looked unkempt.

  He didn’t want to cut and shave inside the dungeon. Those were relaxing activities. Not to be done in such a stressful environment. So, unkempt looks, no shirt, basketball shorts worn over a shredded undersuit, with bits and pieces of armor sticking to it.

  He looked like crap, but at least the cloak hid most of it. As long as he didn’t move too much. Which was a pipe dream inside the dungeon. For proper fights, he’d have to remove it, though. It was great for traveling. Very practical. But during close-quarters combat, it was better left behind.

  “Very nice indeed. The three of you look like proper warriors. Are you ready?” Vyasadatta asked.

  All three of them nodded in response. And wasn’t that the truth? Sure, Parth was a bit sluggish. He needed proper food and rest. But right now, he could continue on for a while. Not to mention his mana tank was back to somewhere close to ninety percent. His recovery rate had become insane. Unison of mind, body, and soul indeed. He was ready. They were all ready.