My Best Friend is an Eldritch Horror - Chapter 43 (Patreon)

Damien’s legs had long since turned to jelly by the time Sylph arrived. His breath came out in ragged gasps and the back of his coat was soaked with sweat. He’d long since lost count of how many laps he’d run around the arena when he saw the girl step through the gate. Damien could have kissed her out of sheer joy.

He flopped against the wall with a groan as the world spun in front of him.

“Hello, Sylph,” Delph said.

“Hello professor,” Sylph replied, not even glancing down at Damien.

“I believe you owe me something,” Delph said, tapping his foot impatiently and holding a hand out.

“I don’t have any money,” Sylph replied. “I’ll pay you once I make some.”

“You made a bet without having the coin to back it up?” Delph asked, aghast. “You little brat.”

“A bet?” Damien asked between heavy breaths.

“Unfortunately. I should have known better,” Sylph said, sighing. “I thought it would be easy money. I didn’t think you’d actually show up two hours early.”

Damien’s eye twitched. “What?”

“Professor Delph made a bet with me before you noticed him in the alley yesterday,” Sylph said after the professor waved for her to speak. “He said that you would come to him and beg to get trained, but I thought you would have no interest in advanced combat. Hence, a bet.”

“I’m not sure if I should be offended that you bet against me or not,” Damien said, curling his nose in annoyance. Then he blinked. “Wait. You were already planning to teach me yesterday! Why did you make me go through all this?””

“It was funny,” Delph said, not even cracking a smile. “And I was curious. You’ll find that those things drive the majority of my decisions.”

“That’s not concerning,” Damien said, pushing himself back to his feet and wiping the sweat away from his eyes.

“Good,” Delph said. “Your weak muscles are completely worn out. Sit there while I work with Sylph, and we’ll come back to you afterwards.”

Damien just nodded, too tired to argue and grateful for the chance to rest. Henry scoffed at him.

“Now, what shall we start with?” Delph wondered aloud, tapping his chin. “Your physical abilities are far better than Damien’s. They’re actually quite impressive for a student. That could mean that you don’t need to run laps like this poor sod gasping for air, right?”

Delph jerked his chin in Damien’s direction. Sylph started to nod in agreement.

“Wrong!” Delph yelled, snapping his fingers and pointing at Sylph with the same hand. “There is always room for improvement. You are small. You have less muscle, so you must work harder to increase it. Now start running!”

Sylph burst into a sprint. Delph gave an approving nod and sat down beside Damien, who was still struggling to catch his breath.

“Serious question. What do you want to learn from me?” Delph asked. “You showed some degree of cleverness in our fight. You could make a decent assassin if you hone your thinking skills.”

“I think Sylph is more suited for that than I am,” Damien said, recalling her fight with the professor and how she’d faded in and out of the shadows.

“You’re absolutely correct,” Delph agreed. “And I suspect you have no desire to stay on the backlines and defend your allies with runes and enhancing magic.”

“I don’t think my companion would lend itself well to that,” Damien said, frowning.

“Damn right I wouldn’t,” Henry grumbled. Damien mentally shushed him.

“Then that leaves you with brute force,” Delph said. “You will rely on your magical power and energy to defeat your opponents through sheer destructive force.”

“That sounds fine to me,” Damien said, sitting up straighter as his lungs started to recover from the run. “Why do you say that as if it’s a bad thing?”

“Because you will be in a constant race. You will still need to think in order to not be a brainless fool, but your condition for winning a fight will simply be being stronger than your opponent. That is not an easy life to live.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Damien said. “I’ll do it.”

“Then I shall do my best to support you while hopefully instilling at least a few morsels of intelligence into your mind,” Delph said.

Sylph sped by them. Delph glanced at her before he shook his head and rose to his feet.

“The two of you couldn’t be more different and similar at the same time,” Delph said. “It’s amusing. Perhaps that’s part of the reason why I agreed to train you both.”

“What does that mean?” Damien asked, standing as well.

“If you want information, you’ll have to earn it,” Delph said, giving Damien a wry smile. “Now, I know I said that we would deal with Sylph first, but she’s got a good number of laps left before she starts feeling tired.”

Delph flicked Damien’s collar. “Draw upon your Ether and channel it into any part of your coat. It’s a disgrace to have mage armor but not use it.”

Damien still had several sparks of the glowing energy within him. He guided one of them out from within his chest and directed it to the front of his cloak. The cloth stiffened.

“Good. Mage armor is a very effective defensive tool, but it is not easy to use,” Delph lectured. “It can block both magical and physical attacks, but only when you are channeling energy into it. However, it becomes too stiff to move while it is activated.”

“So I have to harden the parts right before I get hit and then release them afterwards?” Damien guessed.

“Correct,” Delph said, a wide grin spreading across his weathered face. Sylph sped by them again. She still didn’t look like she was putting out much of a sweat. The professor knelt by the sand and pressed his hand into the ground.

A thin line of sand shimmered beneath his palm. It hardened into a stick about the length of the man’s forearm. He rose, tapping it against his palm experimentally, the wicked smile only growing wider as realization set in for Damien.

“Now, Can you guess how we’re going to train your reaction time?” Delph asked.

Damien gulped.