Amazon Apocalypse 2: Chapter 6 (Patreon)

Myrina got up from me in a hurry the moment her sister appeared. She wore a blush as red as her hair and kept her eyes on the ground. At her side, her hands balled into fists.

“Big sis! Uh... what are you doing here? Were you going to spar with someone? Carter and I were just leaving...” Myrina grabbed me by the shoulder, hauled me to my feet, and then put herself between me and her older sister.

Cyra placed her hands on her hips. “I came to see how things would work out between you. I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t ring the bell and invite others to witness your match. I figured this was an informal one, but someone should keep an eye on you both just in case. Safety and all.”

The way Cyra stared hard at her sister made me thing she had more than safety in mind.

Myrina nodded. “That’s right. This was just a friendly little bout between me and Carter. I just wanted to see where he was at, is all.”

Cyra nodded at her sister. “You’re wearing the pendant to reduce your level to his?”

Myrina grabbed the pendant from around her neck and tossed it aside. “Like I said, just a friendly sparring match. I’m doing his tutorial, after all. I need to know where he’s at to train him to survive an integration.”

“Right. The patronage thing you were asking about.” Cyra sighed, drumming her fingers against her thigh.

While Myrina and her sister talked, the medic watching the fight from her glass window came out. She looked roughly the same age as Myrina and me, though that meant little when dealing with other species and the System. She had black hair and slightly pointed ears. An elf like Lyra, perhaps?

I wasn’t sure if it would be rude to ask, so I kept it to myself. Besides, I was busy listening in on what Myrina and her sister were saying.

The elf waved her hand over my limbs, and golden light enveloped me. She peeled the armor off me and tucked her hands up under my shirt to make sure the light got everything, and pretty soon I was feeling as good as new.

"Thank you."

The healer threw me a tight-lipped smile in reply.

Myrina glanced back at the healer and pulled her shirt off right there, in the middle of the arena. She was wearing something akin to a sports bra beneath it, but it still surprised me. The elf had shown greater care for my sense of modesty than Myrina’s. But I suppose it shouldn’t have been. Different world, different norms.

When the healer was finished, she spoke.

“Lady Myrina. Your mother notified me a moment ago. She would like to see you.” The healer cast a glance back at me. “It’s about your guest.”

“What about him?” Myrina scowled.

“She didn’t look angry, fear not. I suspect she just wanted a few assurances from you,” the healer replied.

Myrina’s shoulders slumped. “Let me just drop Carter off in my room first...”

“No need for that.” Cyra waved Myrina off. “I promised you two I’d help go over the fight. That includes him. I’ll keep him company, don’t worry.”

“You’re not going to spar with him, are you?” Myrina eyed her sister.

“Sis, do you really think that little of me?” Cyra shook her head. “Nope. I’m going to do just what I said. I’ll help him shore up his weaknesses. Probably run him through some drills, too. You know how mom likes to lecture.”

Myrina sighed. “You alright with that, Carter?”

I nodded. “I’ve never had formal weapons training. I basically learned by doing. It might be useful to have an instructor.”

Myrina hugged me, promised she’d be back as soon as she could, then pointed to her own eyes and then to her sisters, as if to warn her she was watching.

Cyra and I watched her go. The healer retreated to her alcove a moment later, leaving just me and Cyra standing in the field.

“I hope Myrina hasn’t given you a poor impression of our clan,” Cyra said. “She’s young and spent a lot of time on an unintegrated world when she was little. She never quite re-learned what was proper and what was not.”

I chuckled. “Nothing of the sort. Myrina and I have been friends for a long time. I’m just happy I finally get to spend time with her again.”

Cyra’s eyes locked on me, and she seemed to put some puzzle pieces together. “Ah, that’s right. You must be her friend from that unintegrated world. She’s mentioned you before. I should have guessed as much when she was so adamant about ups providing patronage to someone despite no longer having the free assets for that kind of thing.”

I winced. “I heard from Myrina that your clan is at war. How bad is it?”

Cyra glanced around, checking to see if anyone was listening. She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Don’t repeat this anywhere else, but if Myrina trusts you with her secret legendary skill, I’ll trust you with this. The war isn’t going as well as we’d like, and odds are we're going to lose a lot of our vassal clans. Things aren't going to be pretty on the other side of this."

“Who’s the enemy?” I pictured women even more towering and monstrous than Cyra and whatever giant of a woman her and Myrina’s mother must be.

“A bunch of wimpy little summoners and crafters,” Cyra spat. “They were one of our oldest vassals. They made our weapons, and we protected them. It was a good deal, right up until they decided they wanted to be in charge instead. The difference in size between our clans is still pretty big, and anybody else at our level would have crushed them long ago. But they’re a terrible match-up for us. The Samhain’s are second to none against anything we can hit, but pretty much helpless against summoned specters. It's not your problem to worry about though.”

I shrugged. “It could be. I’ve dealt with my share of specters.”

Cyra shook her head. “Myrina’s barely qualified to guard our trade caravans. You? Well... don’t leave the castle unguarded. Myrina wasn’t as discreet as she should have been bringing you here, and I’d give even odds of our enemies kidnapping you to blackmail her for information. Nobody wants that.”

I winced. I’d worried I wouldn’t be powerful enough to impress Myrina’s family, but from the sound of things, I was not just a resource drain, but also another person they had to protect.

“Shit. If I’d known I’d be this much trouble, I wouldn’t have come.” I ran my hand through my hair.

Cyra gave me a pat on the head. “It isn’t your fault. You seem willing to learn, at least. Maybe in a couple of decades, you will be strong enough to help, and will all owe our profound apologies to Myrina for doubting her. Come on, I promised my little sister I’d teach you how to use a weapon, and I’m going to keep that promise. Pick up your sword. I want to see your grip.”

It turned out that despite my Sword proficiency, I didn’t know how to use a sword. Everything was wrong, from where I placed my fingers to where I placed my feet. Even my shoulders were moving wrong, according to Myrina.

“Damn. How the hell did you fight as well as you did?” Cyra chuckled. “I’m actually impressed. But let’s not get those bad habits ingrained any deeper in you than they already are. See my hands here? That’s how you hold a sword. Not too tight, not too loose. Good. Get the grip right, and Myrina won’t be able to disarm you with a swing of her spear like she did.”

“You saw that?” I winced.

Cyra nodded. “I saw it. Both times.”

I winced again.

“And when she tripped you with her spear. And when she clobbered you in the side of the head. And all the other many, many fuck ups.” Cyra shook her head, sighing.

I had a lot to learn. Fortunately, Cyra had a lot to teach. She wasn’t kidding when she said her mother liked to lecture, either. Myrina was gone for hours. It had been mid afternoon when I arrived, and when the sun set, Cyra was still drilling me in the practice arena.

I would have collapsed from exhaustion if I had still been an average human. Fortunately, all the enhancements to my body meant I was a little more durable than usual. Even so, I wouldn’t have managed so much training if not for Cyra calling out the healer every hour to cast a rejuvenation spell on my aching muscles.

But I didn’t quit, not for a single moment. Cyra was giving my training her all, and she carried the tone and disposition of someone who’d done this before. She must have trained as an instructor at some point. But more than that, I was already seeing incredible results.

Your Sword proficiency has increased by 8!

Your Dodge proficiency has increased by 7!

You have gained the Spear proficiency!

You have gained the Combat tactics proficiency!

You have gained the Shield proficiency!

“Well shit.” Cyra cracked her neck as she stretched. “You learn damn fast. And that’s not just the compliment sandwich thing they tell you to dish out when teaching. I’m being serious when I say you’re picking things up faster than anybody else I've ever taught. Do you have some sort of bonus to practicing combat skills?”

I shook my head. “Nothing for combat proficiency in particular. I had the Blessed of the System title that the System gives to all newly integrated worlds, but that’s already worn off. The only thing that could be helping me is my racial bonus.”

“Oh?” Cyra peered at me curiously. “Mind sharing? I might be able to help you better. Most racial bonuses aren’t secret since they’re so widespread, but I’d understand if you want to keep yours to yourself.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Especially if it’ll help you help me.”

I flipped through my System menus until I got to my racial description. It described the bonuses I’d picked for myself upon evolving to the D-Grade.

Homo Acceleratus (Rare):

Humans of the Homo Acceleratus classification learn, grow, and progress through jobs and proficiencies at an enhanced rate. Born with an innate knack for improving themselves, practice and experience yield greater results for them than for other species.

Individuals of this bloodline may not be blessed with longer life or innate power granted from birth, but they are gifted with enhanced future potential. If ignored, they may amount to nothing. But all those who find a passion to pursue can flourish to incredible heights.

This racial bonus is characterized by the following:

• Faster Job leveling.
• Faster Proficiency leveling.
• No cap on number of total number of Proficiencies.
• No skill decay regardless of time since last used.
• Abilities plateau at higher levels, allowing for a higher level of potential mastery than others can attain.
• Bypass restrictions on good, evil, lawful, neutral, or chaotic on unique abilities.

“Okay. Wow, whoever chose this one was ambitious. It’s rare for all of a racial bonus boons to scale. This one gives nothing at all passively but makes up for it with some very impressive bonuses if they’re put to proper use. I’ve seen some of these modifiers before, but never so much all at once. Most progenitors choose immediate power over greater future potential...” Cyra read through the list, letting out a low whistle. “Yep. That explains why you were picking things up so fast. Seems like you should work more practice into your daily routine. Your racial bonuses are geared toward making the most of your experiences.”

“You think I made the right choice?” I asked curiously.

Cyra’s eyebrows rose. “So it was you who picked it, huh? Interesting. Well, it’s too early to say for sure. Racial bonuses can be great, but only if you develop the techniques and training plans to make the most of them. The Amazonain racial bonus to condense additional mass was worthless until we had the infrastructure and training plans to eat a lot of food and turn it into muscle. If we were peasant dirt farmers it'd do more harm than good by making us eat ourselves into poverty. I’ll have to read about what an accelerata bonus is good for. Other races have picked it before, no doubt.”

“I wonder what my equivalent would be...” for a moment, I allowed myself to ponder the future.

Cyra shrugged. “Probably lots of schools. Classrooms, training halls, academies, apprentices, squireships, that sort of thing. I’m not too familiar with the process, but some of the factions in the Arcadia Multiverse shove their kids through ages upon ages of study before they’re so much as allowed to look at a monster. For many, that can mean thirty or forty years of training, assuming you’ve got a way to get them to D-Grade without fighting.”

“That sounds tedious. And expensive.”

“Many factions shove their kids into accelerated time pocket spaces.” Cyra shrugged. “It’s what we do as well. Not sure if you noticed during your brief jaunt around the city, but you probably didn’t see anyone below the age of eighteen. Well, there are kids. They’re just not here.”

“The System allows that?” I asked curiously.

Cyra shrugged. “Encourages it, even. I think it likes the fact that most regions of the world are adult-only spaces.”

Now that I thought about it, walking the city with Myrina hadn't revealed a single child. Nor had my tour of the castle.

After a brief break, Cyra took me through some more practice drills. Now that she knew about my bonuses, she seemed eager to drill even more into my head in her little time with me.

Your Taunt proficiency has improved by 3!

Your Regeneration proficiency has improved by 4!

Your Dual-Wielding proficiency has improved by 6!

Your Sword proficiency has improved by 6!

My abilities came a long way over just one day of practice. Cyra seemed excited to see me take her instructions to heart, and by the end of the sparring session, she looked like she had something of a smile on her face. It was a far cry from the dim scowl she’d worn when I’d first seen her.

But eventually, she held up a hand to stop. She cupped her hand around her ear and frowned.

“What is it?” I asked, hearing nothing.

“Mother finally stopped lecturing Myrina,” Cyra explained. “It took a few hours, but I think she’s good now. She’ll be coming down soon, which means my time with you is almost ending. At least for today. I’ll still be around if you want to train more. Teaching you the basics has actually been pretty good for me. I gained one teaching proficiency. Those don't come easy to me these days. Maybe with a little more teaching I can pick up a Sword proficiency point of my own.”

“Myrina’s been getting chewed out this whole time?” I felt a little nervous on Myrina’s behalf. Cyra and I had been practicing for hours. What exactly had Myrina just gone through?

I’d been feeling bad for putting Myrina and her family through so much trouble as it was. Now, I felt worse. Especially now that Cyra had helped me so much.

I already owed the Samhain Clan. Myrina seemed to think I could repay them in the future, but from what little I’d heard, it looked like they’d needed help now, not in the distant future.

The only problem was that I had little clue how I could help them. Myrina had made it perfectly clear that I was just one small man from a little world of no relevance here in the heart of the Arcadia Multiverse. And Cyra had made it clear that I couldn’t even leave the castle safely, let alone help her family repel their enemies. At my current level and with my current resources, I couldn’t see anything I could do to help them.

“It’s not your fault,” Cyra said when she saw the look on my face. “The blame lies on Myrina’s shoulders. She wouldn’t enjoy me saying this, but she had something of an unhealthy obsession with you, despite not having seen you for years. That obsession led her to giving you our Patronage token despite mother’s wishes. Any blame she receives is her own fault.”

“What can I do?” I locked eyes with Cyra. “I want to help, but I’m not sure how.”

Cyra met my gaze and sighed. She shoved her sword back on the training rack, then did the same for mine a moment later. “You can’t. Not now. And if you want my advice, just steer clear of mother’s line of sight. Or any of the elders. You’ll just make things worse for Myrina. But I do have one warning for you.”

Her expression turned grim. “Myrina doesn’t have the best judgment. She may try to make things... more official with you than is proper. The ways of the Amazonian Warriors are not your ways. I’m not sure how much you know of us--“

“Nothing,” I answered.

Cyra tapped her finger against her chin, puzzling through how best to explain things. “So... imagine a powerful wizard king who rules over an entire planet. Myrina and my father is such a man. If you have ambition, I’m sure you want the same for yourself. Someone in that position can afford to sire ten thousand children as his heirs and take whoever is the best. The mother doesn’t matter much to him, though he’ll still try for the best.

“But for us Amazonians, we pay an enormous price for every child we bear. The process is more taxing on us than it is for normal women. Our training is intense. Too intense to allow for a healthy pregnancy. This means an Amazonian seeking to have a child must step away from the training grounds for at least a year. Often several. It’s a major vulnerability for ourselves and our clans, so we seek to do it as infrequently as possible.”

“I think I get it. You want the best possible man as the father for any children you have.” I nodded in understanding. The Amazonians could rarely afford to step away from combat long enough to make a child, so they needed to make each one of them count.

Cyra gave me a sad smile. “Just so. That need is so ingrained in us and our culture that rituals have formed around it. Every Amazonian who wishes to be considered a proper member of Amazonian society can only ever choose a man who can at least match them in combat. Preferably, he should be able to best them. While some Amazonians break with tradition, our clan does not. Perhaps we could make an exception at another time, but right now we are at war. Already, our vassal clans are questioning our power, so we can’t afford to do anything that might make us look weak. I know that all too well."

Cyra averted her gaze, fighting to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. “If you lie with Myrina, you will be forced to prove you are worthy of her. That would mean a duel like the one you showed me today, only she would not be restricted in level.”

“Shit.” I’d had a hard enough time against Myrina restricted down to my level. If she was at full power, I would lose. Even if I will risk the attention of the Chaos Wolf, the fourth level of Mania probably still wouldn’t give me a win.

Cyra sighed, hiding a sniffle. “Myrina does not have the greatest impulse control, so you will have to be the responsible one. Ask for what happened to me and my former lover if you want proof.”

“You’re saying...” I trailed off.

“If you sleep with Myrina, you will die.”


<Note>

Dun dun dun!