Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]

The scent of rose and sandalwood flowed into Emela's nose as she and Nyx stepped through the clean wooden door of the dojo. Ahead of them was a large desk, with a young blonde-haired woman sitting behind it. The woman held a notepad as she muttered to herself while jotting something down.

Her eyes slipped off her work and onto Emela and Nyx. She placed the notepad down, and a smile curled onto her lips. Emela took that as a sign that they should approach. She glanced at Nyx, and the black-haired girl raised a brow.

A group of students walked by them, sparing them a glance before hustling off deeper into the dojo. The place was practically buzzing with activity. Even by the receptionist's desk, two—what seemed to be instructors—chatted, waving to students as they walked by.

It seems funding is not a problem for this place. I wonder if Hector's dojo is anything like this? Though I expect not. Otherwise, I doubt he could afford to attend. I should ask him about it when we next meet.

"How can I help you, young miss?" The receptionist asked as Emela came to a stop before the desk. The woman's hand pushed the notepad resting on the wooden surface to the side as she sat up a little straighter. Her eyes seemed to scan Emela. "Are you here to join up? I can assure you our prices are quite fair."

"No," Emela said to the woman. The two instructors at the side looked her over. One gave her a nod, while the other, a woman, smiled. The two seemed friendly enough. Emela turned back to the receptionist. "I visited the Phoenix Company HQ and was told I could find Acalla here."

The receptionist jerked at the mention of the HQ, and then her eyes widened at Acalla's name. That wasn't too surprising; many people didn't have the qualifications to go to the Phoenix Company HQ. They had only let her in because of her family; even then, it was only access to the reception area. As for Acalla, she was quite important—she was in the Core Formation after all—but her exact standing wasn't clear.

"I… uh…" the receptionist stammered, her eyes darting to the side, looking for help. One instructor, seeing her panic, spoke up.

"Who did you say you were with again, my lady?" The instructor asked, stepping around to the front of the desk. He was a black-haired man whose eyebrows were incredibly thick. His uniform, a standard red and black gi tied with a gold embroidered brown belt, shuffled slightly as he moved. With a soft tap of his sandals, he came to a stop in front of her. "Perhaps if I know who you are with, I can better assist you."

You mean, so you can place me with someone better suited to waste my time?

"That doesn't matter," Emela said, her gaze snapping back to the receptionist. "Is she here or not? I don't have all day to waste."

The receptionist's face whitened under Emela's stare. Her hands grabbed at the wood before her as she turned between the two instructors. Emela shook her head. How could she be this useless?

"Listen, young lady, this is the Feather Dojo," the man in front of her said. He raised his voice a little, his posture becoming that much more aggressive. Brash. A bit too reckless for someone who had some idea of her status.

Nyx stepped forward. The black-haired girl moved in front of Emela, her blue eyes narrowing at the instructor. The temperature seemed to drop a little. Hesitating, the instructor moved backwards, but then seemed to realise what had happened and stepped forward again.

"You—"

"Is everything alright?" a voice called from behind the man.

Emela turned her head, her eyes moving to the sound of the voice. The interruption couldn't have come at a better time. She hadn't come to make trouble, but these people seemed a bit too uncouth for her liking.

Standing by the door leading into a hallway that went into the dojo was a woman. Dressed in the usual robed attire of a Phoenix Company member, her brown hair fluttered slightly behind her as her dark brown eyes seemed to take Emela in.

Her lips held a frown of displeasure as she stepped forward. "What is with all the commotion?" she asked. Several students of the dojo who still loitered around looked over. Gossiping whispers passed between them as they gestured towards Emela.

Had she been made to look like the aggressor in this situation?

The instructor who had been harassing her spoke up. "Ah, Mistress Silkmon. This lady here claims to be looking for Mistress Acalla. I was just asking her who she was with to be seeking an audience with the Mistress." The other instructor, who still stood on the other side of the desk, nodded along.

"You wouldn't happen to be the Frostkeep girl?" Silkmon asked, her gaze running up and down Emela. Searching her.

Emela blinked. Her eyes shifted to Nyx before landing back on the woman. Had they been expecting her? But why? She had given no signals that she'd be joining the Glademoor woman.

"By your apparent stunned silence, I'll take that as a yes," Silkmon said. Her eyes then shifted to the instructor. "You may go back to the main hall. I believe your master is looking for you. You as well." She glanced at the female instructor.

Nodding, the two of them walked away. The male instructor hung his head in shame; whoever Silkmon was, she carried some weight in this place. Emela's gaze trailed the two instructors for a breath. Students still lingered around, but their chattering had fallen quiet.

"If you'll follow me. The High Captain has had quite a bit on her plate recently, but she should be pleased to see you."

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

—- —- —- —-

"Well, that's quite a problem," Acalla said, her green-tinted fingernails beating against the table. Each rhythmic tap was a soothing sound to Emela's ears. "I can't quite say my family had done anything like this. But then again, you are a Frostkeep."

The green-haired woman leant back in her chair. The wood squeaked, straining slightly against the woman. At her side, Silkmon stood, her hands held in front of her and her gaze resting thoughtfully on Emela.

"And you don't have any solutions?" Emela asked. She rested a hand on the wooden armrest of the chair on which she sat. A faint helplessness seeped its way through her veins. Was it pointless to come here?

Glancing to her side, Emela's eyes rested on Nyx's own. The black-haired girl, sitting on the chair next to her, held the same passive look on her face. Though beneath it, Emela could see some worry. At least she thought she could.

Leaning forward, Acalla rested her hands on her desk. "I didn't say that. All I meant was, for me anyway, it's quite the unusual situation. While the Glademoors can be quite calculating, there is a level of restraint that the house elders try to enforce."

"So, what do you suggest?"

"Well, the easiest thing for you would be to join the Phoenix Company. Even your family would be hesitant to involve itself in our affairs. You could also stay at the headquarters; with your strength, you'd be quite valued. Especially if we can find a solution to your mana conduction problem."

Emela sighed, then took a deep breath. The thick, sweet scent from the burning incense was slightly overwhelming her. That plan was out the window. She'd only be trading one pair of shackles for another.

Not to mention, she'd already agreed to join Hector—a far superior deal. No, she couldn't join the Phoenix Company. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Can't or won't?" Acalla asked. She glanced to the side as if in thought. A small chatter of passing students in the hallway outside flitted into the fallen silence. She turned back to Emela. "If it's your father you are worried about, I can assure you, someone of his calibre wouldn't sully his honour to attack someone like you."

Emela pursed her lips. The woman's words poked at her ego slightly. While her words weren't wrong, the woman was being a bit blunt. "I know. I just have my reasons, is all."

"Then your only other option would be to flee and go into hiding," Silkmon said. Everyone turned to her, and the woman continued. "It carries a lot more inherent risk, but from what I've observed of you so far, you strike me as someone who likes her independence. While hiding comes with a lot of restrictions, it offers a lot of freedom in other areas."

"They'd hunt her down, though, and a noble like her couldn't exactly go anywhere," Acalla said, combing back a strand of green hair. Her green eyes flickered over to Emela, running over her. "She's someone who's enjoyed luxury all her life, so the slums would be out. Even if she did, it wouldn't be safe."

"Perhaps Todawn then?" Silkmon suggested.

I know that city; it should be to the north of here. But the books in the library said it would take months to get there.

Acalla shook her head. "She's far too weak. No offence," she said, giving Emela an apologetic smile. "The mana beasts would kill her before she's even got past the forest. Never mind the fact that the Frostkeeps are the only way to get across the lake. How would she leave the city?"

"Have you left the city before?" Silkmon asked Emela.

For some reason, Emela found her cheeks burning. The way she asked that was as if it were some common thing anyone could do. She raised a hand and played with the ponytail that rested on her chest, her fingers picking through its ends. "No," she eventually muttered.

"And you see my point," Acalla said. "At the moment, it doesn't seem like she has many options. Unless she plans to go against her family somehow."

"So you can't help me?" Emela asked. The small hope she'd been holding in her heart petered out.

Silence settled into the room. Outside the window, birds chattered, and slum dwellers yelled and hawked, going about their day. What could she do now? Acalla could provide no help, and her family was trying to ruin her. The only people she could count on were her friends and Hector.

"Well, there is one more thing you could try," Acalla said, a half-joking look mingling in her eyes.

Emela perked up slightly, leaning forward. "What is it?"

"I heard a Flamelight girl had a slightly similar issue to you in the past. That being she didn't want to get married, and I'm sure you've heard of how headstrong the Flamelights can be."

Emela nodded.

"Well, have you considered just killing your fiancé?"

—- —- —- —-

Hector thrust forward with his purple knife, piercing the large hairless rat's skull. The thick-limbed creature dropped to the stone, its body twitching briefly. Hector had already moved to his next target. He stepped to the side of a swipe; the claws rushing by his chest, just narrowly avoiding his tunic.

A bubble of static rushed out from him, electricity spreading through the rat's body as it slammed back down onto the stone, its body spasming. Hector glanced to the side. There, Jodie weaved between two other rats, deflecting claw strikes and using her own claws to slice into their thick hide.

"Try not to damage the flesh too much," Hector yelled over to the ginger-haired girl, his foot driving into the side of the spasming rat. Something popped beneath the force, the rat letting out a painful, jittery squeal.

"I know, I know," Jodie called back, vaulting over one rat. She twisted as she moved over it, slamming her claws deep into its skull. The bone gave way with ease, and the rat flopped onto the ground with a thump.

Jodie dived to the side as the other rat scurried and clawed at her. Its squeals echoed around the tunnel. Was it calling for help, or was it grieving? Could it even do something like that?

Hector flicked his wrist forward; his knife, sunk into the skull of the rat, still spasming on the ground, a last gasp of air leaving its mouth as its chest fell. Four rats in total—once Jodie finished hers. That had to be enough for the tanner, right?

This has to be, what, ten to twenty feet of hide, at least. I can't imagine him needing more than that.

As Hector's gaze lingered on the rat in front of him, blood seeping from its head and pooling on the cracked stone beneath it, a figure just in the corner of his eye caught his attention. His head snapped to it, and there, just outside the area of light provided by the mana stone tied to his waist, steeped in shadow, was a spiked Earthen Mole.

Its rigid spine glowed softly in the darkness as its foot-long claws shone just as brightly. Surely the tanner would need something like that. Hector took a step forward, purple static crackling to life in his hand, taking the form of a knife.

He turned his head slightly, the scent of stale blood and rock filling his nose, but kept his eyes on the creature. "Jodie. Earthen Mole. I'm going after it; I'll be right back," he said before dashing forward.

The creature scampered back, and he gave chase. He considered activating [Volt Runner], but thought better of it—if he needed to escape, it would be a lifesaver. He followed the creature down the tunnel, taking a few bends, then, after a few minutes, it took a last turn into a cavern.

Following it in, his mana stone lit up the area. The creature was backing up slowly, its large front teeth clacking at him threateningly; around the cavern, some other moles stirred from their slumber, levelling sleepy eyes at him. The invader.

But the most eye-catching feature stood at the back of the cavern. He hadn't noticed the mana when he'd come in, but now that he was here, he could practically feel it. There, just behind the Earthen Mole, was a door thrumming with power.