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37.5% mediators story / Chapter 6: Chapter 6: survival of the sentimental

Chương 6: Chapter 6: survival of the sentimental

"You're not doing nearly enough to defend yourself. You still haven't grasped the concept of Ki, and your foot placement is so bad it's making me question your life choices." Lucien lamented, watching Valeri crash into yet another tree. For a moment, he wondered if the trees had formed a union against his apprentice. Valeri groaned, struggling to untangle himself from the branches. "But my movements are getting faster! I almost dodged that first attack!" he argued, brushing off twigs with all the dignity of a man who had just kissed bark.

Two weeks into training with Luca, and Valeri's days of passing out mid-fight were over. Now, he could at least stay conscious long enough to hear the insults. Luca, however, was relentless. Earlier that week, he'd dropped the ultimate pep talk: "You're too weak. Or in essence, you haven't got the talent to back up your tenacity. You're like a mule trying to learn ballet—awkward, painful, and slightly endearing. But mostly painful. Honestly, it's a miracle you're still alive."

Valeri had taken the criticism in stride, though it stung worse than the tree bark currently lodged in his hair. He knew he wasn't talented, and his battle strategy up to this point was just throwing everything at his enemy and hoping something stuck. Spoiler: it usually didn't.

Luca, for his part, had decided on a new method: beat the skills into Valeri. Literally. "Since your brain refuses to comprehend fighting, I'll teach your body instead. And lucky for you, I have an ability that stops time in a one-mile radius. We'll train until your body reacts instinctively. Or until you finally collapse into the dirt for good, whichever comes first."

"He can pause time." That was the only part Valeri heard. For a brief moment, he wondered about the possibilities: stopping time to dodge attacks, steal snacks, or finally get the last word in an argument. But those dreams shattered when training began.

The world dimmed as Luca activated his ability. Colors faded into grayscale, the air grew heavy, and Valeri's misery became the only vibrant thing in the void. It was like living in an old black-and-white movie, except with more bruises and significantly less popcorn.

Every day was a lesson in pain. Luca's strikes were relentless, and Valeri's only real skill was his newfound ability to not die. That, as it turned out, was thanks to his personal attribute—a defense mechanism that kicked in whenever death was imminent. It was less of a superpower and more like his body screaming, "NOPE, NOT TODAY!"

Luca, however, found this fascinating. His initial goal of training Valeri turned into a borderline obsession. "Why won't you just die?!" he muttered one day after yet another of his lethal strikes was perfectly countered. He started inventing new ways to push Valeri's limits, all while growing more frustrated at the walking paradox he called a student.

Valeri, for his part, had no idea what was going on. One minute he was dodging (badly), the next he was waking up in the dirt with Luca glaring at him like an angry drill sergeant who had just realized his recruit couldn't tell left from right.

By the second month, Valeri's progress was undeniable. He could now stand up as fast as he was knocked down, and his swings no longer looked like he was swatting invisible flies. Luca, though, was unimpressed. "Congratulations, you've graduated from 'useless' to 'mildly less useless.' Don't celebrate too hard."

One evening, Luca sat him down by the fire. "Do you know how long we've been here?" he asked. Valeri blinked. "Uh, like... a couple of weeks?"

Luca sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Time moves slower here, genius. In our world, it's been over a year. And if we don't leave this forest soon, you'll start forgetting what a calendar is. We're heading to a nearby town tomorrow."

Valeri nearly choked on his water. "A town? Wait, why? Are you abandoning me?!" he spluttered.

Luca rolled his eyes. "No, you melodramatic child. We need identities. And also, I need to buy some new socks. Yours smell like despair."

The next morning, they made their way to the town of Forboðna, also known as the Nachtwart hins Forboðna, the town under the nights watch, or as Valeri liked to call it, "the place with the really long name I can't pronounce."

Standing before the gates, Luca casually dropped another bombshell: "We're here for the Vanguard Exams."

Valeri froze. "Exams?! You never said anything about exams! I didn't study! I don't even know my element yet!"

Luca sighed. "It's not a written test, idiot. They're testing stamina, combat skills, and resource management. The basics. Just don't trip over your own feet, and we might survive the first round."

As they entered the bustling town, Valeri couldn't help but feel a mix of anxiety and determination. Sure, he still sucked at fighting, and Luca's faith in him was about as sturdy as wet paper, but at least he wasn't alone.

For now, that was enough.

But Luca didn't tell Valeri everything, his initial plan was to find the man responsible for the towns notorious image, he knew if he wanted to get caught up with the world's information, he would need the man who knew it all, and if this world really was a carbon copy of the game then who else could he trust to blurt out even the littlest details if not 'him', The night watcher—Ezekiel Locke.


Chương 7: Chapter 7: repetitive burdens

Lucien wandered aimlessly, his mind a storm of questions and confusion. One moment, he was in the heat of orchestrating plans, and the next, he found himself in an unfamiliar street, his carefully mapped-out route from the town hall to the guild completely forgotten.

"How did I even get here?" he muttered to himself, glancing around. The streets buzzed with life—vendors shouting, children laughing, and the occasional scuffle of hurried footsteps. It wasn't exactly a maze, but in his distracted state, it might as well have been. "This can't be part of the plan... right?"

As Lucien tried to regain his bearings, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Whipping around, he was greeted by a wide-eyed street vendor holding out a map.

"You look lost, my friend," the vendor said with a grin that was a little too eager. "Only five silver pieces! A map to guide your weary soul!"

Lucien narrowed his eyes, suspicion coloring his expression. "I don't need a—"

"Ah, but this isn't just any map," the vendor interrupted, winking conspiratorially. "It's enchanted! Guaranteed to—"

Lucien turned and walked away mid-sentence, leaving the vendor stammering behind him. He would figure it out. Somehow.

---

Eventually, Lucien stumbled upon the towering silhouette of the guild hall. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived. A commotion at the steps drew his attention. There, amidst the bustle of adventurers and townsfolk, stood none other than Ezekiel Locke—or rather, Eskil Lyge, as he was known in this world.

Ezekiel, a man of great renown and even greater eccentricity, was crouched low, his face inches from a potted plant near the guild's entrance. He appeared to be having a spirited conversation with the foliage.

"Ah, but you see," Ezekiel said to the plant, gesturing animatedly, "it's not about the sunlight alone. It's the angle! The angle, dear friend, that determines your photosynthetic efficiency!"

Lucien stopped in his tracks, torn between disbelief and secondhand embarrassment. A few adventurers walked by, carefully avoiding eye contact with the man. One whispered to another, "He's at it again. Just... let him be."

Before Lucien could decide whether to approach or flee, Ezekiel's head snapped up, his piercing gaze locking onto Lucien as if he had sensed his presence all along.

"Lucien!" Ezekiel exclaimed, straightening up with an almost theatrical flair. "You've arrived! Marvelous timing, truly. You must come inside at once."

Lucien blinked. "I was... lost."

"Weren't we all, at some point?" Ezekiel replied cryptically, brushing past Lucien and gesturing for him to follow.

---

The interior of the town manor was no less peculiar than its resident. Lucien was led through winding hallways, each adorned with mismatched decorations: one wall was covered in maps and celestial diagrams, while another showcased a bizarre collection of spoons. At one point, they passed a room filled entirely with bird cages, though none of them contained actual birds.

Lucien's guide, Farke, was as stern and intimidating as Ezekiel was odd. The scarred man said little, his one good eye fixed ahead as they traversed the labyrinthine manor.

Finally, they arrived at a plain wooden door. As Farke opened it, Lucien hesitated. The hallway behind him seemed to dissolve into an endless void, leaving only the door and the room beyond it. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.

---

Ezekiel's office was as chaotic as Lucien had anticipated. Papers were strewn across every surface, jars of strange substances lined the shelves, and a large chalkboard bore an equation so complex it hurt to look at.

Ezekiel himself was perched atop his desk, balancing a glass of what appeared to be ale on his head. "Ah, Lucien, come in, come in! Sit, sit!" He gestured wildly to a chair that was already occupied by a stack of books.

Lucien cleared the books to the floor with a single motion and sat down, his expression carefully neutral. Ezekiel, meanwhile, poured two glasses of ale, offering one to Lucien with a flourish.

"I prepared a gift for you and your little vanguard, but alas, you're a rather tumultuous couple."

Lucien blinked. "We're not—"

"Not important!" Ezekiel interrupted, setting his glass down. "Tell me, Lucien, what do you think of responsibilities?"

Lucien's brow furrowed. "Responsibilities are—"

"Wrong!" Ezekiel declared before Lucien could finish. "They are a construct! A societal expectation thrust upon us by the weak-minded masses!" He paused dramatically, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Lucien sighed. "Ezekiel, why am I here?"

Ezekiel straightened, a glimmer of seriousness breaking through his eccentric demeanor. "Because, dear Lucien, you intrigue me. Your existence, your power, your connection to that anomaly of a student… it's all so wonderfully fascinating."

Lucien's eyes narrowed. "Valeri?"

"Precisely!" Ezekiel exclaimed, clapping his hands. "He is unlike the others. He lacks what you and the others possess, yet he exists ahead of them. A paradox, a riddle wrapped in flesh. And you…" He grinned, his gaze sharp as a blade. "You are the key to understanding it all."

Lucien stared at him, his patience wearing thin. "And what do you plan to do with that understanding?"

Ezekiel's grin widened. "Why, study it, of course! Observe it, dissect it—not literally, mind you, unless necessary. The possibilities are endless!"

Lucien leaned back, his expression cold. "You're insane."

"Oh, absolutely," Ezekiel agreed cheerfully. "But aren't all the best minds?"

Lucien's head throbbed, and for the first time, he regretted ever trying to seek Ezekiel out. "This was a mistake," he muttered.

"Nonsense!" Ezekiel said, raising his glass in a toast. "This is only the beginning!"

Ezekiel's tone suddenly shifted, growing serious as he fixed his gaze on Lucien. His voice, once filled with enigmatic calm, now carried the weight of someone who had seen the world's true nature.

"You think you understand power, don't you?" Ezekiel began, his voice calm, yet laced with a quiet intensity. "But power, Lucien, is an illusion—especially in this world. Just as you are bound by the limits of your mind, power here isn't just about crushing your enemies. It's about knowledge. Understanding the framework beneath the surface. Your kind will struggle with that."But you must understand something about power in this world, Lucien." His voice grew sharper, more severe. "Your people begin as Low Humans here. Lowly, insignificant. You must claw your way up to even reach the status of High Human, and even that is the peak of human limitation. High Humans meet expectations—nothing more. They are still confined to what their mortal bodies can do."

Lucien's gaze was fixed, now filled with a mix of intrigue and defiance. "What's beyond that? You speak as if High Humans are nothing."

"They are nothing," Ezekiel replied coldly. "Above them is the Supreme Realm. This is where the limits of humanity are pushed. Where you begin to step beyond mortal constraints. You start to shed your weaknesses, to become more than flesh."

"More than human…" Lucien muttered, the words tasting strange in his mouth.

"And beyond that," Ezekiel continued, his voice taking a heave, "is the Demi-God Realm. Here, you attain near-perfection in your humanity. Your power begins to feel divine, and yet you are still human in essence."

Lucien's eyes sharpened. "And after that?"

"The god Realm," Ezekiel said, his voice reverberating with gravity. "Perfection of humanity. You become the epitome of what it means to be human, but no longer bound by the limitations of mortal life. Your will begins to shape the world around you."

Lucien's breath caught, his eyes fixated, but Ezekiel did not relent. "Then comes the Celestial Realm. Here, you become a being of boundless potential. Your speed, strength, and power are unmatched. You are bountiful in every way, a force that moves beyond what any human could imagine."

"And finally, the Deity Realm," Ezekiel said, his voice dropping to a chilling calm. "At this stage, your power is no longer just yours. It becomes the very law of the world. You can shape reality itself. People in the Deity Realm are so powerful that they cannot meddle in the affairs of those beneath them, lest they shatter the balance of existence. Their mere presence commands the fabric of reality."

Lucien swallowed hard, but his voice still carried its sharp edge. "And the one who made my world? What realm does he belong to?"

Ezekiel's eyes gleamed. "The one who created that false realm is only a Celestial. Though the strongest Celestial and ruler of their realm, He is not at the true peak."

Lucien's fists clenched as he processed everything. "So… what's your point, Ezekiel? That we'll never reach those heights?"

Ezekiel smiled faintly. "My point, Lucien, is that your people's downfall is their ambition, their greed. They will chase after power without understanding its consequences. They think they can conquer this world like they did in their dreams, but they are already doomed to repeat their mistakes. They are not prepared for the reality of this world."

Lucien's gaze was cold, but there was a flicker of realization in his eyes. "And you think you've transcended all of that?"

Ezekiel turned his gaze back toward the horizon, his voice carrying the weight of a man who had seen the truth and was no longer bound by it. "I have seen the limitations of power. I do not chase it."

Your people have been here for a month. A single month, and already they carve factions, build power structures, sow chaos. My power alone has prevented the deaths of thousands—innocents who would have fallen prey to the ambitions of your kind. And that's merely in this village." He paused, watching Lucien's face. "They think they know this world because they lived in a dream. A false dream with no consequences. But here, there is no reset button. No second chance. Here, death is final. Their power is but a drop in the ocean of what truly exists in this world."

Lucien's jaw tightened, but there was an undeniable flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "And you know this… how?"

Ezekiel smiled, a dark, knowing smile. "I have walked in your world, Lucien. Briefly, yes, but I've seen the differences. The breach between our realities gave me the means to transcend. I have lived in the world you thought was your own. And I've seen the fragility of it. I know more than you could imagine."

Lucien's gaze hardened. "So what now? You come here to lecture me on my own world's inferiority? Or is there something more you plan to teach?"

Ezekiel's gaze shifted, and he began to speak again, his tone shifting into something more instructive. "There are factions rising already. Guilds, as they're being called, are beginning to take shape.

Lucien's brow furrowed as Ezekiel continued, speaking with a certainty that resonated deeply. "This land you walk on isn't just some arena for you to play conqueror. It's alive, Lucien. It grows as you grow, learns as you learn. The more powerful you become, the more the world pushes back, adapts. You think you can bend it to your will, but it bends with you—never breaking."

Lucien's hand clenched into a fist, yet he remained silent, his mind working through the implications of Ezekiel's words.

"You're thinking like a soldier. This isn't a battlefield. It's a chessboard, and you're only just starting to learn the rules. Those who seek alliances, who understand the politics of this world, will thrive. The rest... will fall. Those who don't understand how this world truly works will be left behind. And nobody wishes to be left behind."

Ezekiel paused, the weight of his words sinking in before he leaned in slightly, his eyes locking onto Lucien's with an intensity that could burn through steel.

"Do you understand why you are here, Lucien?" he asked, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Why I stand before you, explaining this. It is because of the nature of your existence."

Lucien's breath caught slightly, but Ezekiel didn't wait for a response. His eyes hardened, and he took a step forward.

"On the day you arrived, you arrived alongside eight other people. The nine of you could be said to be the pinnacle of your race in this world. However, an anomaly occurred a week later. He arrived. Your student. He came as you all did, but he does not possess what you all possess. His existence is ahead, unlike the rest of your world that arrived a month after you. This means he is destined to play a role in the purpose you hold."

Ezekiel's words began to cut through Lucien's defiance, leaving him momentarily still.

"Unless you have a way to take hold of his responsibilities alongside yours, putting him at risk here is not wise. For a man like him, who holds enough power to destroy space itself, he is not fit for battle. Not as he is." Ezekiel paused, watching Lucien closely, his eyes unwavering. "He has made no contact with any of the other eight, and even then, would they wish to be responsible for a life like his?"

Ezekiel's gaze shifted, his mind clearly elsewhere for a moment as he considered the best course of action. "In all his thoughts, he went to the only man fit to train him. Issa."

The name hung in the air, leaving an ominous silence between them. Ezekiel's words, however, were more than a simple warning—they were a revelation. The weight of the responsibility that Lucien and his companions now carried had shifted.

After another hour of conversation,Ezekiel led Luca into the guild hall, speaking as they walked through the quiet corridors. "Most of the adventurers stationed here have been pulled to larger towns. What you see now is the skeleton crew, barely enough to handle the basics. The ranking system is simple: E to S, with S reserved for legends and E for beginners. Everyone starts at the bottom. Advancement is earned through blood and sweat."

Luca nodded, taking in the information. When they reached the front desk, Ezekiel gestured toward the receptionist and stepped aside, his presence more commanding than comforting. Luca handled the registration, his calm demeanor masking the weight of the task.

Valeri distracted himself with a pamphlet about medicinal herbs and first-aid tips for the field. He skimmed the pages, his fingers trembling as anxiety clawed at him.

When Luca returned, his tone was calm and reassuring. "Good news. The manager agreed to waive your written exams. I'll handle the resource management test and take responsibility for you. All you need to do is pass the physical exam."

Valeri's ears barely registered the rest. His mind clung to one word: physicals. His heart pounded with a mix of terror and exhilaration as he sprinted to the desk to finalize his registration.

---

The physical examination room was unlike anything Valeri had imagined. As the receptionist opened the door, the world shifted. The walls dissolved into nothingness, and Valeri found himself standing at the foot of an impossibly tall mountain. The rocky terrain stretched endlessly, a harsh wind biting at his skin.

Before him stood Aleixi—a hulking figure wielding an axe that seemed too heavy for even a giant. His appearance was as imposing as the mountain itself, his presence unsettling. His rough features twisted into a strange grin, and when he spoke, his thick accent made his words nearly unintelligible.

"Ztart. You. Die now?"

Valeri blinked, confused by the odd rhythm of Aleixi's words. Was that a question? A threat? It almost made him laugh, but the eerie undertone of the man's voice sent chills down his spine.

Three. Two. One. Begin.

The ground beneath them shook as Aleixi lunged forward, his axe sweeping through the air with deadly precision. Valeri barely dodged, his feet slipping on the uneven ground. His heart raced as he countered with a clumsy jab, which Aleixi easily parried, twisting his body with effortless grace.

Aleixi's movements were unlike anything Valeri had seen. His stance was fluid, calculated, every step a part of a larger strategy. Valeri, in contrast, stumbled into his wobbly Aikido-like movements, his inexperience glaringly obvious.

The axe came down again, grazing Valeri's side and sending him tumbling across the rocky ground. He gasped, the pain sharp and immediate, but forced himself back up.

Aleixi tilted his head, his expression unreadable. He muttered something in his thick accent, but Valeri couldn't understand a word.

"Yeah, well, screw you too," Valeri muttered under his breath, his voice shaking as he pushed forward.

This time, he aimed low, trying to unbalance Aleixi, but the man sidestepped with ease, delivering a sharp elbow to Valeri's ribs. The impact was brutal, and Valeri stumbled back, coughing.

The fight escalated. Aleixi's Systema style was merciless, blending brutal strikes with precise counters. Valeri's punches and kicks felt sluggish in comparison, his form barely holding together. Aleixi's axe wasn't just a weapon—it was an extension of his body, and every swing came closer to ending Valeri's life.

Valeri's mind screamed at him to retreat, but something in him refused. His body moved on instinct, weaving between attacks, narrowly avoiding the blade. His breathing was ragged, his muscles burning, but his focus sharpened with every near-death moment.

Aleixi's strikes grew more aggressive, and the mountain seemed to echo the clash of their fight. The ground splintered under the force of each attack, dust and debris swirling around them.

A particularly vicious swing from Aleixi's axe sent Valeri skidding backward, blood dripping from a fresh gash on his arm. His vision blurred, but he forced himself to stay upright.

Aleixi stepped forward, his stance loose but menacing. He muttered something again, his accent making the words incomprehensible, but his tone was mocking.

"Okay, creepy mountain man, I'm done playing," Valeri growled, more to himself than anyone else.

With a burst of adrenaline, he charged forward, dodging the glowing arc of the axe. He twisted mid-step, using the momentum to deliver a spinning kick aimed at Aleixi's ribs. For a brief second, he thought he had him, but Aleixi caught the kick with one hand, slamming Valeri into the ground with a sickening thud.

The world spun as Valeri hit the ground. He could feel the sharp edges of rocks digging into his back. His body screamed for him to stop, but he ignored it, forcing himself back onto shaky legs.

Aleixi's axe glowed brighter, his movements faster. He charged, the air around him humming with deadly intent.

Valeri ducked under the first swing, barely avoiding decapitation. His fists clenched as he lunged forward, aiming for Aleixi's chest. But instead of hitting flesh, his punch collided with something else entirely.

The air rippled, distorting like a shattered mirror. A deafening crack split the mountain, and the world itself seemed to fracture.

Aleixi stumbled back, his expression finally showing a hint of surprise. The space around them dissolved into chaos, fragments of the dimension falling away like shards of glass.

Valeri collapsed to his knees, his vision fading. His body was broken, his mind struggling to comprehend what had just happened.

Aleixi lowered his axe, his eerie grin returning. "Hah. You... strong. Funny boy."

Valeri's consciousness slipped away, his last thought a mixture of fear, shock, and exhilaration. Whatever had just happened, he had survived—and that was enough for now.


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