Chapter 160 (2/2)

Heretic IX 0/???, Oathbreaker 0/25, Initiate of Ash I 0/75, Nexus Traveler Cohort 5 0/50, Path of Control 0/200, Grace I 0/75, Basic Mana Engraving 0/100, Weeping that Falls like Rain 0/200

The big change was that Heretic had shifted to Heretic IX. And sure enough, when he looked, Randidly found a notification among the sea of skill increases saying that he should turn back, take a class, or else he would face the consequences, etc. It just made him sigh. There was no way that he would at this point, or any way that he could.

But he would need to be more careful about not having notifications if it was possible for him to be attacked by a Judgement.

The new arrivals were the Mana Engraving and the Weeping Cloud Paths, and of the two, Randidly felt the draw from both. Especially the Weeping Cloud path. He relied on the Weeping Cloud heavily in order to recover from the mental strain of all of the training. In addition, it was his first path from an non-Common rarity skill. But after blowing 1000 PP for nothing… it was hard for Randidly to justify another huge expenditure.

Instead… Randidly checked how much PP was remaining. Seeing it was enough, he quickly chose and finished off Oathbreaker, which he had for quite a while. Every 5 PP earned him a point in Willpower, which was a nice state of affairs, after this most recent path debacle.

Congratulations! You have completed the Oathbreaker Path! You have broken your vows, and left your shackles lay fallow behind you. You feel no shame, but only a righteous anger. Your path is more important than any bond that they may force upon you. Forward you continue, because the path is long, and continues ever onward. Resist +10. You have gained the skill Rejection Lvl 1.

Rejection: May resist compulsions, geas, foreign influences, healing, status ailments, and other unnatural states. Likelihood of success depends on skill level.

Randidly smiled wryly. An old remnant of his time with the King Constance, huh…? Well, the Willpower and Resistance would help him, so he didn’t mind it. And although this current skill seemed unreliable, it did seem broadly applicable, which would probably help.

With his few extra PP, he put them into the Grace I Path. That would likely give him a positive return, based how he felt it improving every aspect of how he moved.

Once more, Randidly lost himself in the training. Time passed slowly as his body, his mind, and his spirit were brutalized day after day. Slowly but surely, Randidly felt himself growing less angry, more grounded. He almost seemed to enjoy the abuse, throwing himself into it with wild abandoned. Shal pressed him harder and harder, as they slowly made progress into the Northeast area, fighting constantly. Marco would destroy Randidly’s stance with easy, shattering his confidence.

Then he would read words, left by a spear user, sure, but two dozen or so years ago, and he would almost pass out every time he tried to read that first line on the fifth page. It was depressing.

But there was progress. He pressed and pressed, and he was able to gaze for longer and longer on the back of Death before it paused, as if it noticed him, and then slowly turned, forcing him out of his focus.

Knowing that Shal secretly observed the process, Randidly refused to give up. Shal’s relationship with his father was clearly complex, and Randidly understood that. He hated his own father. Hated him with every ounce of his being. But somehow, he knew that if his father had left him a job, he would have dutifully completed it. This was that same thing for Shal; he would look for an heir for his father’s legacy, even though Shal wanted no part of it.

But that didn’t mean Shal wanted it to die. And so Randidly continued to try, slowly moving forward, word by word.

The second anniversary of their arrival in the badlands came and went, and Randidly’s eyes were slightly glassy, worn to the edge of sanity. But still, he pushed. Everyday, and those days he found himself slightly improving, Randidly pushed harder, seeking not just improvement, but results..

And the amount of sentences he could read slowly grew, one word at a time. Soon, he could make it through half of the page without being forced away. Then 3/4s, then 4/5s, slowly approaching the complete picture for the move that Shal could not master.

The Phantom’s Embrace.

****

Shal looked at the fire, brooding. Marco Polo sat next to them, as his disciple once more tried to read the diary. There had been progress. Significant progress. But while a lot of it was in his disciple’s spear skill, the scariest part was the things that were hard to quantify.

Randidly’s recovery speed. His work ethic. The viciousness with which he wielded a spear. His spells, his tactics in a fight.

His stance, his Battle Intent.

His disciple’s personality too, was slowly changing, under the incredible pressure that he had handled for the past two years. Becoming more centered around gallows humor, more sardonic pessimistic. Randidly had always been reserved, and this Shal appreciated, but it was growing to an almost ridiculous degree. The boy barely spoke a word, if not directly asked a question. He would just wait for the order of the day, and then throw himself into it.

“This might be his limit.” Marco commented, looking carefully at Shal.

But Shal just nodded. This was true. His disciple was settling too much into life here, and gaining bad habits through repetitions. This was probably as close as they could come to getting him battle ready. More skill levels would be useful, but…

“But it will still take some time to leave….” Shal said aloud, gazing up at the mountain on which the prison sat. “The preparations...And… ideally we would want another powerful individual, one willing to offend and attack guards, in order to cause a distraction….”

“If you need a distraction like that, I have an idea.”

Both Shal and Marco turned, surprised. Randidly stood there, rubbing his chin, his voice raspy and his eyes somewhat gaunt.