Day 41, 10:30 AM

  “Are we far enough?” I ask, despite knowing the answer.

  Edna hesitates, then nods. “We are.”

  I don’t know why she didn’t want to hold lessons until we got closer to the corrupted lands than we were to Tallrock, but as an apprentice, I’m guessing it’s my job to obey my master, rather than doubt them.

  Lucy, Gila, and I kneel beside a thirst tree, enjoying the extra dry ground, and wait for Edna to begin her lecture. She stares solemnly at Gila.

  “I formally accept you, Gizella, as my apprentice.” Edna shifts her focus on Lucy. “I formally accept you, Lucella, as my apprentice.”

  The women nod, their expressions focused, probably trying to do what we discussed earlier, resolve themselves to abandon their previous classes and become Edna’s apprentices.

  “It worked!” Gila barely stops herself from clapping, and a moment later, Lucy joins in on the excitement.

  “Start of lesson.” Edna says. “Your task right now is to attend ten lessons without missing a single one. We are still trying to find which requirements need to be fulfilled for my speech or actions to be considered lessons…”

  Ten blocks of ten-minute lessons later, Gila and Lucy receive a level up notification. As agreed and explained during Edna’s ten lessons, the girls pick Initial Mana Sense, and we continue our journey.

  The jungle and the surrounding terrain have already become common to me. You know your life has taken a strange turn when salivating trees and vines oozing industrial grade acid become as common as apples and sparrows had been back on Earth.

  In the evening we make camp. Edna lines us up and holds a lesson on how to cook dinner. She goes into details, but uses simple language while she holds us hostage, kneeling and watching her prepare dinner.

  Lucy and Gila get a level out of it, and blood rushes through Edna’s cheeks. She’s furious that her months and years of painstaking, hard work can be replaced by two hours of cheating.

  Days pass, we travel through the corrupted lands, slaying our way through the minor abominations until Edna freezes.

  “Something with much more mana is ahead.” Her whisper is so quiet, I doubt the girls have heard her even though they are just a step behind me.

  Ever since we entered the corrupted lands, Edna has been our leader, using her much more developed mana sense to locate nodes of dense mana, which I then followed to eliminate the minor abominations. The fact this one spooked her speaks a ton.

  “Can I kill it?”

  “I think so. You handled minor abominations without problem. The issue is how much noise the abomination will make before you slay it.”

  “Is it worth the risk?” We lock gazes, and she says, “No.”

  “We’re turning left and heading back to the tamed lands.” The girls have already caught on to the fact that something dangerous is ahead. I needn’t rub it in their face that we’re turning back primarily because of their safety.

  “Edna, have you considered taking a combat class once you tap mage for all it’s worth? I could train you.”

  She glances at me over her shoulder. “I will remain a mage and strive to become an archmage. Why would I want to learn to fight with weapons?”

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  “Because inquisitors fear sticks more than spells.” Blunt says the words, but I don’t stop it. It’s right, and the words help me realize something.

  Inquisitors must have quite a few levels under their belts, and yet their combat ability doesn’t reflect it. They are probably too focused to seek and counter magic.

  Edna freezes again.

  “Go,” she hisses, her finger pointing in the direction of the abomination. “It sensed us, run.”

  In the space of a blink, I understand what she wants. I will intercept the monster, she will flee with the girls in the opposite direction. After I kill it, I will sprint after them, hopefully escaping any aftermath of the fight, should it turn too loud or too ruinous.

  I fly towards the monster, sprinting faster than a race car. Wind rustles in my ears like the last time I dove while riding a griffon. My enhanced eyesight, wisdom, and intellect process the surroundings without difficulty, and I hardly make any noise at all.

  The thrill couldn’t have lasted more than ten heartbeats, maybe fifteen, and suddenly I’m upon it.

  I have no idea what the thing was before the wormlords turned it into the hippo-sized amalgamation of spikes and blades. Beneath the forest of serrated limbs is a giant, misshapen maw flanked with six slim tentacles and dozens of feelers. The creature lacks eyes, but it keeps four feelers on the ground at all times as it rolls towards me without error, effortlessly bulldozing shrubs and saplings.

  I sweep Batsy II two-handed like a giant club and smash it into the monster’s body. My arms throb as if I’ve hit a plate of steel, and the staff recoils instead of sinking into the flesh and breaking the monster into pieces.

  My eyes bulge, and I realize I haven’t struck my target. A wall of three dozen blades blocked my blow. Then, another two dozen blades and spikes shoot towards me. I twist my body and Batsy moves in a whirl. Some chitinous weapons clang against her, while others fly past me, and I see each of them ends in sinew, connecting the weapon to the main body. They aren’t projectiles, but harpoons.

  As if to prove my point, the spears and blades snap back to the body as the sea urchin of doom retracts them.

  The action buys me half a second, and I strike with the staff again and again, but the damn thing blocks. Its reflexes and ridiculously powerful shell would’ve made me despair if not for one thing. The weapons which parry my strikes come out chipped and cracked, each time more so than the last. The damage is minute, something most would miss, but I see them as bright as day as I move to the side, maneuvering to keep myself between it and the tree I know from experience has a trunk tougher than bronze.

  The abominable urchin unleashes another volley. I dodge and parry, and five of its harpoons pierce the tree, showering me with shrapnel of tough bark.

  Instead of hitting the abomination, I draw my sword and slash at the tendons just as the monster retracts its weapons. The sinew is taut, and the blade backed with all my strength cleaves two of them in a single strike. The other three are still stuck, but instead of slashing them, I charge towards the urchin, aiming for the opening left by the missing harpoons.

  The abomination blocks my staff, but I invested less than a third of my strength into the blow. The true attack is the blade. I plunge my sword into the exposed flesh, and the giant urchin shudders. I release the blade, and strike with the staff again. It blocks, but this time three of the parrying blades shatter. I deliver a side kick, ramming the sword with my foot into the abomination’s flesh, all the way to the hilt.

  The horrific maw unleashes an ungodly screech, all the monster’s blades whirling into the air around it. They slash randomly, and I retreat before the nebula of blades and spears. In the chaos, the beast damages itself more than anything else, its erratic movement slashing at its own body and cleaving its flesh.

  Did I stab its brain? The random maelstrom certainly hints at some neural damage, otherwise, the creature should’ve stopped hitting itself. I decide it’s a good thing and observe, waiting for a chance.

  The blades retract, the monster grows still, and I smash Batsy at my sword’s hilt one more time. The creature’s flesh bursts. The piece with my sword in it sloshes to the ground with a meaty thump, while the other two, perfectly equal halves drape themselves in blades and spears and flee in two opposite directions, one left of me, the other to the right.

  What the hell?

  I watch in confusion for a split second before I realize what has happened. The thing just thought I was a cat and threw me its tail so it could flee. Obviously, the tactic was more refined, more advanced. It even severed itself into two fully functional halves and fled in two directions to ensure survival.

  I stand there another moment before confirming I have no intention of chasing the abominable urchin thirds. What they do in the wilds is their matter. I’m not here to exterminate abominations, not now anyway, and two of them prowling the area, or better yet merging at a later date to block the inquisitors is an excellent result in my book.

  Settled on a decision, I turn around and sprint towards Edna and the girls. It sounds preposterous, but traveling through the abomination’s domain is the safest route. We just need to ensure we turn back towards the relatively safer portion of the corrupted lands before we leave it.