Rise CHAPTER 12 - The First Foe (Patreon)

A week flew by as Jiran immersed himself in training, learning, and work. He was currently running headlong down the main street of Feylon.

I feel so good today! Other than being so sore.

Jiran closed his eyes briefly after arriving at the seamstress’s shop, the letter from Samris grasped firmly in hand.

NAME                        Jiran of Feylon

RACE                          Human

AGE                            7

WEIGHT                     27.37 kg > 33.59 kg

STATUS                      Mild brain damage

TIER                           1

GROWTH                  6.0% > 45.0%

MANA                       0.00

CONCENTRATION    1

STRENGTH                10.2 > 12.6

AGILITY                     10.3 > 12.7

ENDURANCE             10.4 > 12.3

DURABILITY              10.3 > 11.1

WISDOM                   10.4 > 14.9

INTELLIGENCE           10.2 > 14.7

SKILLS                        Molding lvl 44

TECHNIQUES             N/A

OTHER                       UNIQUE - Fo$%si%^(

My brain damage is almost healed! I can’t wait to have access to my mana so I can experiment more with Molding.

I honestly can’t believe how fast I’m progressing. Samris’s training is the real deal.

It took me an entire Madra year, seven whole seasons, to cap out my stats and now I’m thirty percent of the way to the next tier after a week!

“Jiran, what are you doing standing out here staring at your stats? Get in here and hand me that letter.”

The grandmotherly woman yelling at him wore a finely embroidered shawl over a well-used dress. Her garments had thick patches of material with needles sticking out of them, completing her image of a hard-working woman.

“Yes Ma’am,” Jiran replied while hustling inside after her gray bobbing hair.

“I’m happy to see you gave up that ridiculous cloak and hood. You looked like a common cutpurse skulking around in that getup.

“Certainly, your scars will bother a few ornery youngsters but you shouldn't let them get to you. Nobody would dare harm you while under Lord Feylon’s protection.”

Jiran nodded politely to her words before responding.

“Yeah, who would have thought wearing a hood was actually an invitation for everyone to put their face in it and look around to see what I was hiding. Now they try their best to ignore me, which is what I was going for all along.”

“Well, listen to the cheek on you. Best not let any of the young ladies hear your black tongue or finding a wife will be the least of your worries.

“Did you hear about Miytoe and Dolna? They announced their pregnancy last night. That's the thirtieth announcement this week! Apparently, Lord Feylon’s protection is emboldening our little town to grow like never before.

“A good thing too. Densoon season is nearly upon us, if ever there was a time for a whole litter of new babies, it’s now.”

You really want to talk to me about how many babies are lost during the densoons? The kid with scars that look exactly like those babies after they fail to adapt?! What is it with old age that throws propriety out the window like filthy bathwater?

I’ve got much better things to do than stand around gossiping about pregnancies and babies.

“It was good to see you Ma’am, here is the letter from Lord Feylon. Have a wonderful day,” Jiran practically threw the letter at her before dashing out of the door and back up the street toward the manor.

Back in the library, Jiran pulled out the notebook he had been rapidly filling up over the last week. He double-checked his most recent entries to confirm he had not made any mistakes.

Hopefully, the combination of Katakana, Hiragana, and Spanish will be impossible for anyone to crack. These scientific concepts from Brandon’s memories are way more advanced than anything I’ve been able to find in Samris’s books.

With my brain damage almost gone, these memories are flooding in way faster than I can write. I have to get as many of them written down in case I forget or miss something.

Jiran worked late into the night, forgetting to eat dinner in his haste to commit as many of the fleeting memories to paper as quickly as possible. After the third time falling asleep in his chair, he wearily dragged his body to bed. He took a quick peek at his attribute gains from the evening, before passing out.

Durability + .1

Wisdom + .6

Intelligence + .5

The next morning, one of the maids woke him and directed him to the study where Samris was waiting for him.

“Today, we will be advancing your training,” Samris’s echoing whisper pierced his entire being, rapidly waking him from his groggy state.

“Yes, Lord Samris,” Jiran nervously replied into the bloated silence that filled the room after Samris’s eerie whisper faded.

“It would appear your late-night scribbling session has clouded your mind,” Jiran felt his cheeks heating in embarrassment that his activities had been so easily discovered.

“All I mean to imply is that you are healed, Jiran.”

His eyes opened wide in surprise before he slammed them shut to check if Samris’s words were true. Sure enough, the brain damage debuff was gone. Jiran’s spirits soared at the amazing news before he realized what Samris had been alluding to.

Oh crap, all the insane training we’ve been doing was just a warm-up, wasn't it?

“Thank you, Lord Samris. I will do my best with whatever training you wish of me.”

“Excellent, you will need that determination to survive in the future. Madra is not a kind world, especially to those of us who are Unique. Has your ability become legible? Can you access its description?”

Jiran shook his head no, as it still showed the same message that first appeared after his tiering.

UNIQUE - Fo$%si%^(

“That is perfectly normal. My own Uniqueness did not become clear until my thirteenth season. When the day comes that your status becomes clear, I will reveal more of the nature of our curse.”

Curse? It's not a good thing? Is this why he never talks in front of other people? Because they go all mindless like Niya did. I suppose that would feel like a curse. I hope whatever mine is doesn’t turn me into a recluse as well.

I suppose that explains why he’s out here in the far reaches of the empire instead of somewhere more important.

“Come, let us be about it.”

Jiran followed Samris into the backyard, a light sheen of nervous sweat already coated his back.

When Samris began moving through the now normal stretches, Jiran found himself relaxing into the challenging movements.

Maybe he meant something else would change? Like my library time? So far this is just more of the same.

After the calisthenics that only an Olympic athlete would consider a warmup, they sat down to eat a light breakfast. First Father had yet to crest the low wall around the manor. Dark shades of red light snaked across the clear skies as Jiran took a deep breath of clear air mixed with the delicious aromas of Sharaal’s cooking.

Jiran took his first tentative bite of the soft breakfast pudding on his plate. He held his breath, waiting for the familiar feeling of density being robbed to trickle through his awareness. A single tear slid down his cheek as the feeling never came. Instead, he was overwhelmed by thankfulness at how much Samris had helped him.

Jiran bowed from his seat toward Samris, barely managing to hold in the tears that continued welling up in his eyes.

“Thank you,” Was all he managed to say, knowing that if he spoke more, he would surely be unable to restrain his rapidly escalating emotions.

Instead, he focused those same emotions into a bridge of chemicals that closed the gap between thought and density. Instantly he claimed the energy that rapidly dispersed inside his stomach. Within only two bites, he felt a fullness inside his chest that he had never experienced before.

Closing his eyes, he saw the 1 next to his mana that signified the true beginning of his new life.

This is it. I’ve got a million memories to sort through, a thousand tests to try with Molding, and a lifetime of growth ahead of me. The only question that matters is, where do I start?

Before he could plan further, Samris stood from the table and motioned Jiran to follow. He set an impossible pace away from the manor toward the nearby woods.

Jiran watched Samris’s back as the man vanished into the thick trees, long before he arrived at the edge of the woods.

The trail Samris had taken was cloaked in deep shadows. The early dawn light did almost nothing to unveil the twisting path that snaked ever deeper into the silent woods. Jiran’s pace slowed to a crawl as he felt the threat of nature close in all around him.

I’ve never actually been in the woods alone, especially not in the dark. This is creepy as fuck! Where did Samris go?

Jiran strained his ears, hoping to catch a hint of his whereabouts. The silence around him was absolute. Without any clues other than the dark path before him, Jiran pressed on.

He soon came to an empty glade. The once green and vibrant grass of the clearing looked like it had been packed flat by a steamroller. A few feet from where he exited the dense foliage, a short spear was stuck into the ground.

Jiran gulped as a terrible premonition of danger grabbed his spine in a vice-like grip.

This feels exactly like how I felt before my tiering. Something terrible is about to happen.

With wide eyes, he frantically searched around himself as he quickly approached the spear and pulled it from the ground.

“Good,” He heard Samris whisper from somewhere to his right.

Spinning rapidly in the direction of the sound, Jiran finally saw him standing on the branch of a tree. He was perfectly balanced without touching the trunk, despite the bright red crab the size of Jiran held at arm's length before him. He tossed the beast to the ground before lightly hopping off the tree.

The creaking protest of the thick branch was accompanied by Samris sailing through the air until he landed next to Jiran.

“A test of courage, will, and determination.

“You show courage by entering the woods you know to be full of deadly beasts.

“You demonstrate willpower when pressing forward into the unknown, in your quest for growth.

“You have shown determination by picking up the spear, a representation of your willingness to fight.

“Your final test this day is before you. Show me your bravery, Jiran. That is a tier two beast from the shallows near the pier. The hunters clear dozens of them out of the warehouse and processing plant each morning before work can begin.

“You cannot win this fight. That creature outstrips you in every way. You will be injured if you choose to face it. I will save you before you die, let that be your only assurance. What will you do when faced with impossible odds, Jiran?”

Well, crap on a stick. Or should it be crab on a stick?

The beast's large pincer gave it a reach nearly as long as his own, even with the addition of the spear grasped in his sweating hands. The hard exoskeleton that covered every centimeter of its body looked far too thick for him to penetrate.

The large claw clacked menacingly as the beast moved side to side, drawing slowly closer to Jiran’s position.

https://imgur.com/ngoEDR5 

It doesn't seem to be able to move forward quickly, but side to side, it’s far faster than I am at a full sprint. Just how high is that thing's agility?

If I let that claw get a hold of me, it will probably cut off whatever it grabs. Samris might not let me die, but do I really want to lose an arm or leg to learn whatever insane lesson he’s trying to teach me?

Maybe the lesson is not to fight higher tier beasts. Does he want me to quit, to give up, to walk away from this impossible fight? That would definitely be the smart thing to do. Even if there was a child standing behind a person, running is exactly what you’re supposed to do in this situation.

Is that really what I want? What if it was Niya behind me?

The thought of his cousin lying hurt behind him caused a spark to light in his belly. His grip tightened on the spear in his hand, the only defense between the beast and her. Jiran’s resolve firmed into a desperate wall of steel.

Before he could change his mind, he charged. A shrill scream of terror and frustration escaped his lips as his feet brought him toward his foe.

https://imgur.com/SjwsXkj

The beast responded by turning its body sideways to face ninety degrees away from Jiran. Its huge claw was now pointed away from him, ready to swing in a deadly arc through the air, building momentum before destroying his tiny body.

Uncaring of the sure pain to come, Jiran launched himself forward, spear tip leading the way. Predictably, the weapon’s point skittered harmlessly off the beast's shell. A sudden premonition of death and destruction rang through his body like he was a church bell being struck by a hundred hammers at once.

Jiran tried to dodge but he felt his body moving in slow motion. Now that the massive claw was closer, he could see that it was larger than his entire body. It traveled through the air in a graceful arc, inching closer like a reaper's scythe.

All thoughts of Samris’s promise of safety fled before the surety of death.

I’m not fast enough, it's going to hit!

Desperation exploded inside him when the realization of his situation became all too real. At that moment, balancing precariously between life and death, Jiran felt his mana singing to him.

It begged to be released.

If I’m not fast enough, maybe my mana is.

Jiran formed the image he wanted in his mind and released it through the emotions flooding his body. Before he could even process what was happening, his body impacted the hard-packed dirt of the glade and the giant claw sailed harmlessly above his head.

He felt the wind of its passing rustle his sweat-matted dark hair. The claw slammed loudly into the ground beside him. It sent clods of dirt flying in every direction as a hole the size of Jiran’s chest was formed from the impressive impact.

Something grabbed Jiran by the back of his neck and jerked him backward through the air. He landed pitifully in a heap beside Samris who hissed like a snake at the rapidly approaching beast.

“Back!” Jiran was shocked when the creature calmed and skittered backward several steps. It stopped and swayed slightly on its eight legs.

Jiran slowly stood, bracing himself with the spear lodged firmly in the dirt beside him.

“An impressive dodge, Jiran. The first time my father threw me before a higher tier beast, I failed to move in time and was injured for several days. I must say, I am jealous of your success when I think back to my own failures.

“It would appear we have found an excellent training partner for you. Again!”

To Jiran, Samris’s pointing finger appeared as nothing more than the skeletal index of the devil as it motioned toward the beast who happily clacked its massive claw in his direction.