Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]

Hector stood before the sparking Trial Realm door in the cave. Lightning crackled as it slammed into the stone beneath it, further charring the blackened floor. Behind Hector, Lincoln, Marcus, Delworth, and the rest—aside from Emela and Nyx—all equally eyed the door.

Tension buzzed through the air, seeping into Hector's skin and pumping his veins full of adrenaline. His foot tapped against the floor, eyes squinting against the light. Anticipation raced through his heart, flooding every cell.

This was it. This was where he'd get answers. Well, at least some. Though he couldn't guarantee the old man wasn't lying.

Hector glanced over his shoulder, meeting Jodie's blue eyes. The ginger cracked a smile and nodded at him. He nodded back, his fist clenching. Lately, he'd been relying on her a lot more than anyone else—in some ways, a lot more than Lincoln.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Well, as ready as I'll ever be." She chuckled, combing back her hair with one hand and reaching up with the other. She grasped it in a fist and, using some sinew Mrs. Strongmail had processed, pulled it into a ponytail.

Hector's eyes shifted from Jodie to Mirae. His sister had her white hair combed out neatly and tied in a bun. She smiled at him as her hand fidgeted at her side, and she peeked around him to get a look at the door, a soft smile spreading across her lips.

We've got this, she mouthed, her focus shifting back to him. Hector gave her a tight smile, nodding and turning back to the door. To think that making it to Gravity Forging-One could give his sister such confidence. That or she had some ideas about how this might go. You never knew with her Talent.

Though if she'd seen something big in her vision, Mirae would have told him already. So it would most likely be the former. Coupled with the fact that he'd upgraded her [Moonlight Marionette] to [Lunar Sentinel]. A much more fluid version of her previous Talent, and the sentinels seemed to be slightly stronger than her. Strange, because it was only supposed to have sixty percent of her ability. Though the reason for that could lie in her soulscape.

Putting those thoughts behind him, Hector's eyes moved to the top of the door. The numbers above the energy-charged entryway slipped by, each second seeming to drag for longer than it should have, until finally they slammed into zero. When they did, the door shook; static charged through its surface, slammed into the floor, and pulsed out into the room.

It swept into the stone, slipping under their feet in a blue pulse and shaking out into the room. A loud hum followed moments later, as the walls and ceiling let out a low rumble, stone groaning.

And after a moment, the door, with a soft creak, opened.

At first, a light wind rustled out, combing through Hector's hair and ruffling his shorts. A sweet scent, rich with a soft tang, followed moments later—almost flower-like. Hector quirked a brow in confusion. There wasn't a stale old room behind the door.

He wet his lips, heels swivelling on the stone. As he gulped, Hector eyed each of his friends, taking a moment to assess if they were ready. Not one of them wanted to step back. Marcus's eyes shifted a little, concerned, but his clenched fist almost bristled with a will to see it through.

Hector nodded. "All right, guys. Emela and Nyx may not be here, but this will technically be the Clear Sky Mercenaries Group's first outing. This is a massive step for us, but also something I believe we more than have the ability to achieve. We are not like everyone else, after all."

They nodded. Lincoln even raised a fist and gave a cheer.

Pride, small but there, slipped through Hector's chest. He grabbed at his waist. The freshly carved wooden mask hung there, resting against his hip. They'd all be wearing one just like it in the Trial Realm, at least until they found a place where they could move without having their identities revealed.

He glanced up. Resting at Jodie's hip hung not only her mask but also the sword she'd brought along when she first moved into the hideout. According to her, it was time to use it. Apparently, almost having themselves killed by Earthen Moles wasn't a good time. But Hector didn't question her. She had her reasons, and he understood her need not to be reliant on things that weren't inherently within her.

"Are you going to be all right, Lincoln?" he asked, eyes moving to his brown-haired friend, who stood a little ways back, arms crossed, eyes focused on the door and an easy smile on his lips.

Lincoln nodded. "I just want to get on with it. See why it needed to make us wait a whole week for it to open."

"We can, but I want to say something first," Hector said. His eyes moved to the pile of capes folded neatly in a stack at his side, just a few inches away. Hector had specially commissioned them with the Hairless Rat hide processed by the Montegs. Not that they were anything impressive. But thankfully, because of the Earthen Moles and their parts—especially their beast cores—they had the funds to afford them.

His eyes scanned Mrs. Strongmail, Harry, Pippa, and the rest of the group, taking them all in. They had enough cloaks for everyone, and while they were plain brown things, no one else in the trial realm should have them.

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"We're going in for the strength and the power that lies beyond those doors behind me," Hector said. "Even though I want you all to do your best to grasp every opportunity that comes your way, I hope you can also focus on your safety. We don't know the horrors that lie beyond these doors or the challenges that await us. So don't be stupid."

"Oh, shut it, you big softie," Jodie said, a teasing smirk curling onto her lips.

Hector narrowed his eyes at the ginger-haired girl and raised a hand, dismissively waving away the comment. He reached down, plucking a cloak off the top of the pile and tossing it at her.

"You'll be thankful when my moving words motivate you unexpectedly," he muttered as she caught the cloak, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I think it's sweet," Mrs. Strongmail said. Her voice fell slightly, like she wasn't entirely sure if she believed what she was saying. "But I also want to thank you. I know without this—without you guys—my daughter and I would be on the streets, stuck in some back alley in the slums, suffering."

"And I know there might be danger behind that door, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. For this short while, our lives have been better here. Better than they've ever been before. We've had somewhere warm to sleep, food in our bellies, and people who actually care about us. I know that might sound silly… but I just want to say thank you."

"I think she gave a better speech than you," Jodie said teasingly, slipping the cloak over her shoulders. She adjusted her hair, making sure it fit nicely in the hood.

Off to the side, Lincoln stifled a laugh, probably not wanting to concede that Jodie had said something funny, and coughed into his fist. The sound echoed faintly in the stale damp of the cave's stillness, scented by the fragrance still coming from the door.

"Should we go, then?" he asked, gesturing toward the entryway to the Trial Realm with a subtle tilt of his head.

Hector nodded, reaching down and grabbing another cloak. He threw one to each of them. As they all put theirs on, he bent over and scooped up his own, throwing it over his shoulders. With excitement pumping through his veins, he undid the mask at his hip and slipped it on, tightening the straps at the back of his head, before pulling up the cloak's hood.

I've never felt so prepared, yet under-prepared at the same time. I hope I'm not being too hasty with this.

"All right, guys," he said, his voice muffled slightly by the mask. "Here we go."

He swivelled again on his heel and stepped forward. Behind him, the others moved to follow, their steps echoing off the stone. Hector felt a twinge of static, something he'd gotten used to now, play along his skin as he stepped through the door.

As he crossed the threshold, a thin film of power brushed over his skin—a slick, unnatural sensation, like a veil of oil being poured across his body.

The air beyond was thick and humming. With each step, a strange sense of nausea crept up from his gut—mild, fleeting, but very real. He wobbled slightly, almost losing his balance for a moment.

"That was strange," he muttered, his voice low as his sandals met polished stone. They clacked softly across the surface, each step echoing in the expansive quiet of the space.

His gaze moved to the ground. These tiles were not normal. Too neat. Too perfect. Rows—far more refined than anything he'd expected. It wasn't like anything in Middlec. Central Middlec didn't even have such neat floors.

This is unnatural. Beyond what even most mana-cultivators could do. Though most don't work with construction, if at all.

He turned. His friends were stepping through the doorway that had now become almost illusory, as if fading out of existence. But that didn't stop his friends from walking through it.

How in the…

His thoughts blurred, fogged with sudden confusion. Would they even be able to walk back through the door? He stepped by Marcus, who'd come out of it behind him, and stood next to the door as the last of the group stepped out.

"What's up?" Jodie asked as she walked out and stopped at his side, adjusting her mask. She turned her head and looked over the door before glancing back at him. "Do you think we can go back through it?"

Hector shrugged, his shoulders barely rising as he raised a finger towards the door's illusory surface. Poking at it, his finger slipped through it, its surface parting as if it were a cloud of smoke, and as he pulled his finger back, that cloud collapsed. The door dissipated as if a wind had blown it away.

"That can't be good," Jodie muttered. She pulled the cloak hood a little tighter and turned to survey the rest of the large space they found themselves in.

"Hector," Marcus called.

Hector turned toward his blazer-clad friend.

"What happened? Is it going to come back?" Marcus asked, eyes narrowed.

Hector looked past him. To the cluster of shapes in the centre of the room. More doors.

"How are we going to get back?" Marcus asked. He ran a hand along the side of his head, his eyes sweeping the grand space they'd found themselves in.

Walking forward, Pippa and Harry stepped to the side as Hector moved up to the front to get a better look. If there was a way into this place, there had to be a way out. A slight smile, one more born of relief, slipped onto his lips as he got a better view of the doors in the centre of the temple-like space.

At the centre of the massive chamber, a circular array of doors stood. Faint words hovered above them—too distant to make out the exact wording. But they held meaning.

He turned and gave a sharp nod to his sister. Her posture seemed a little slumped as her fist clenched at her side. She glanced at Pippa, then back to him, stepping in closer. Even though she'd reached Gravity Forging-One, she was still his little sister—still someone who would look to him when things grew uncertain.

Hector shifted his focus to Jodie.

"We'll head over there first and then decide. I mean, this is a Trial Realm. I don't exactly know what that means beyond the name. But if those doors are part of it, it might be better to be near them than not, right?"

Jodie nodded. She reached for her waist and rested her hand on the sword hilt that hung there. Jodie then stepped forward, stopping by Hector's side.

"All right, guys, let's get moving." Hector took the lead, striding toward the doors as the others followed.

With each step, the words above the doors came into clearer view. Some formed lists. Others offered phrases, fragments of information.

"Hector, wait," Jodie said, lifting a hand to halt the group. Her hand resting on the sword hilt tightened as she raised the other.

She pointed to the side. And there, beyond a row of towering pillars holding up the roof and surrounding the entire circular space, stretched a vast wall. Just above it, buzzing filled the air.

Something zipped by, slammed into the wall, then rebounded. Again. And again. Each impact sent a dull bang rippling across a barrier of light that shimmered in the air. A dome—transparent, but solid—seemed to wrap around the entire building, pulsing faintly with each strike.

The longer Hector watched, the more of the strange flying shapes appeared. Small bug-like creatures—dozens, maybe hundreds—gathered at the edge. Just beyond the walls and the dome.

"Hector, what are those things?" Mirae asked. She stepped forward a little, and Pippa reached out to stop her.