Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]

"I don't know. In the books I've read, scholars like Frundale speak about the realm above Mana Ignition with some scepticism—more lies than truths, too much conflicting information. And the realms after that are just theorised. If I had to guess, the people who wrote those books had never seen such power themselves. I doubt they even thought that a person could create something like this."

"Well, they'd probably lose their marbles if they knew someone created an entire sub-realm." The Frostkeep, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword, said. His blue and white robes fluttered in the wind as he wandered forward. "Only nature should be able to create sub-realms."

Emela turned. A three-story building not far away glistened in the sun, its rounded top tipped with a spike of gold, making it slightly different from the others. Flakes of snow started falling, obscuring the top of the building a little. Emela blinked away several flakes from her eyes.

"This is strange. It's so ancient, though. It doesn't feel ancient, does it?" She turned to Nyx, her brow raised in question.

The black-haired girl nodded. Holding her hands out in front of her, Nyx bowed her head. "It does indeed feel incredibly ancient, Mistress."

"Well, never mind that," Brom said, waving a hand in the air with disinterest. His sleeve-covered hand pointed to one of the Frostkeeps.

This one, a girl with blondish hair, perked up. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Any news about the moose tracks?" he asked.

The girl looked around timidly. Her green eyes moved to a Frostkeep branch family member who stood next to her. The man shook his head with slight panic before moving away from her.

"Well?" Brom asked.

"I'll go have a look," she stammered, stepping away and beginning to search the area.

"Ugh, I swear these side-branch families are so useless," Brom said, dragging a sleeved hand across his face. "Never mind."

"Why are we out here anyway, Brom?" Emela asked. Her eyes lingered on the blonde-haired girl, who now scrutinised every footprint in the snow as if each held gold. "Surely we could have taken a more direct route to the moose, or we could have waited for the others to finish and then moved as a larger group."

Emela's eyes drifted to the sparse collection of the Frostkeep family around them. There were at most six to seven Frostkeeps, plus her, Nyx, and Brom—nine to ten people in total. The bulk of the Frostkeeps were still at Drion's side, along with Noelle, though their older sister Lianna had taken a contingent of Frostkeeps to do her own quests.

Brom shrugged. "I have a quest to complete, and doing Drion's dirty work isn't always as good as it seems. Besides, this brief detour is nice. We can assume that certain people won't try to ruin things." He levelled a gaze at Emela and raised an eyebrow at her.

He was talking about Noelle. The girl would take any opportunity to destroy Emela's future in any way she could. Emela's engagement to Ulrich Muddust was but a small celebration for her. So if Noelle could continue doing what she loved, she would certainly make sure she did.

Emela's shoulders sagged as she shook her head. "Then I have to thank you, brother."

"Think not of it," he said, waving his sleeved hand. He then paced forward, his gaze scanning the area. "Where has that girl gone?" he said, looking around for the blond girl. But he wouldn't find her; she'd disappeared behind a building that looked like a shop a moment ago.

"Sir, reporting!" A Frostkeep member ran over. He gave Brom a deep bow and then straightened up.

"Well?" Brom asked.

"We've found the tracks of the moose that we're hunting."

"Have you?" Brom's lips pulled into a smile. As a breeze blew through his hair, he looked past the man as if trying to spot the prints. "Then where are they?"

"Um," the man stammered, before turning in the snow. "This way, sir."

"Oh. Then Emela," Brom said, turning to her and holding out a hand and gesturing towards the Frostkeep member who was leading the way. "Shall we?"

Emela nodded, signalling for Nyx to follow, and the three of them walked behind the leading Frostkeep man. The rest of the Frostkeeps fell in behind them, and as a group, they left the freshly abandoned town.

The tracks they followed led them some distance from the town, bringing them to a large frozen lake. They stopped a little way up a nearby hill overlooking the lake several feet below. On it were several herds of moose, with large antlers glistening a deep blue, with thick white coats covering most of their bodies. Their black heads were the only exposed skin.

"That's them, sir." Raising a hand and shuffling forward in the snow, the Frostkeep man who led them here pointed to the herd below.

Brom nodded. "I can see that, thank you." He turned, his gaze scanning over the small crowd of Frostkeeps that had gathered behind him. "Well then, what's the plan here?"

Silence spread through the area. The wind was the only thing that made a sound, flapping their robes and blowing through their hair. Brom narrowed his eyes and raised a sleeved hand. He pointed to the shaky, blonde-haired girl from earlier.

"You there."

The girl's eyes shifted from side to side, and she pointed at herself. "Me, sir?"

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"Yes, you," Brom said. "Go over there and distract the moose. The rest of us will move in from the side and catch any stragglers."

"Distract them, sir? How?"

Brom looked from the girl to the man next to her, as if to ask how she was so dull. "How else would you distract a moose?" He shrugged. "I don't know—throw some stones at it, shout, do anything, just get them distracted."

The girl's lips thinned, and she lowered her head. Her hand gripped the sword hilt hanging at her waist, and a steely determination filled her eyes. "All right, sir," she said, stepping forward.

She then moved past the Frostkeeps that had been standing in front of her and shakily trudged down the hill, sliding on the snow at times as she lost her footing. Eventually, she made it to the bottom of the hill and stepped onto the lake ice.

Emela watched her with mild interest. What would she do exactly?

I can't imagine she'd throw a snowball at them. The snow isn't right. It would fall apart before it even reached them.

"Nyx, what would you do if you were in her position?" Turning to her maid, Emela raised a brow.

"I'm not entirely sure, mistress," Nyx replied, shaking her head. "But I definitely wouldn't do what she's doing now."

Wind whipped at Emela's fingers as she turned her gaze back to the lake below. The blond-haired girl moved towards the moose with small, tepid steps. She glanced over her shoulder, looking back up at them, only to find Brom waving her forward.

"Are you sure you aren't being too harsh on the girl?" Emela asked her older half-brother.

Brom let out a slight chuckle and shook his head. "Harsh? The girl should thank me. She's about to earn considerable merit for herself. If she does well enough, perhaps I will reward her."

Emela fell silent. That was a twisted way of looking at it. For all they knew, the moose would react violently to anything she did. Then they'd have the body of a branch family member just sitting there bleeding out on the ice.

Emela sighed. Thankfully, no one had died yet, not from the Frostkeeps anyway, though that may very well change. After all, this was only the first day. But Drion's order for everyone to purchase basic swords with their ten points probably contributed to their survival so far. A rare good idea from the so-called prodigy.

Her eyes moved to the sky. The sun had completed most of its journey and started dipping. It would be nighttime in a few hours. By then, hopefully, they'd be back at the Sanctuary.

Below, the girl raised her hands high above her head and began shouting and screaming. The herd of moose, with little interest, simply looked over to her before lowering their heads back down and continuing to sniff the ice.

Well, that's just embarrassing. Poor girl.

Emela turned to Brom. "I don't think it's going to work out."

"No, it's not," Brom replied. "You'd think she'd go over and at least try to stab one of them. It's not like they're moving."

"She'd die. Those beasts are at least twice her size," Emela said. "They'd skewer her, then stomp her to death."

"Perhaps," Brom said. He glanced over his shoulder at the crowd of Frostkeeps behind him. "Anyone else want to go join her? Help her out a bit?"

Emela shook her head, letting out a breath that formed light mist in front of her.

"I'll go," Emela said, her eyes following a shorter moose that had drifted a few feet from the herd. Dried mud matted its fur, and it limped slightly as it moved across the ice.

"Mistress?" Nyx said, turning to her.

"You will?" Brom questioned.

"Don't worry. I have a way to get them moving."

"You do?" Brom turned to her, raising a brow.

"Yeah, I think so." Emela smiled at Brom and gripped the sword hilt at her waist. "It'll either work, or I'll be leading a horde of those things up this hill."

His hanging sleeves flapped in the wind as Brom nodded. "Well, regardless, I don't think they're expert climbers," he said. "But have at it. Emela, I must say, if this works out, you are proving to be quite the lucky charm so far."

"I am?"

Brom simply smiled. "Go on, sister."

—- —- —- —-

Slowly, Hector crouched low. Shadows cast by the leaves in the canopy above played around him. It wasn't yet dark enough to blind him to his surroundings, but it was slightly difficult to see. Lowering two fingers to the dirt, he swiped at a patch of blood. He rubbed it between his fingers; the blood smeared across his thumb and forefinger.

The Shadow Wyrm had gone this way.

With a sigh, he got to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he observed his surroundings. Deeper into the forest, the shadows grew thicker. He could make out shapes, jumping from tree to tree while others slithered down. There were more than just the shadow lizards and the Shadow Wyrms in this forest. The place was practically alive with creatures.

Hector stepped forward, following the blood tracks, his hand dropping to his side.

It's funny. If only I'd kept that scent Talent, this would have been so much easier. Instead, I'm tracking a beast through blood and claw marks.

On a tree a short distance away from him, he noticed another deep groove. A wound made by the claws of a large beast. Whatever it was, it hadn't smashed through the tree like the Shadow Wyrm had when it was attacking Hector, but this was a good indicator that a similar creature had passed this way.

Though there could be more than one Shadow Wyrm. I should be careful.

After a few moments, as the shadows grew thicker around him, Hector stopped. He dropped into a bush and shuffled forward slightly.

Ahead, by a particularly large tree, the Shadow Wyrm stood, its bulging front forearms planted deep in the dirt as it craned its neck towards the sky, its head thrown back as it let out deep hisses. A crowd of shadow lizards surrounded it, chittering and cawing up at it. With each hiss from the Wyrm, they reacted—some shuffled off, coming back moments later with what looked to be berries or other fruits, while others lined up and began doing what seemed to be a dance.

Is that thing commanding them? This is strange. How intelligent are these guys? I dare say they'd probably form a society at some point.

Hector shuffled closer. Whether the shadow lizards and the Shadow Wyrm could form a society or not was not a priority right now. Instead, he needed that beast to chase him. He needed it angry.

His eyes scanned his surroundings. Near him were a few stones, their grey surfaces damp with water droplets condensed from the mist. He could use them, though there was no guarantee it'd even notice if he threw a stone at it.

If he were going to, he had to hit it somewhere sensitive. Somewhere that would cause it to feel a sharp amount of pain, but not enough to cause it fear.

"I guess I'm going for the eye," Hector muttered.

The Shadow Wyrm continued to let out hiss after hiss, the shadow lizards below it slinking off and coming back before doing their dances.

You know what, let's not use a stone. I've learned a new technique. Better to get some practice in early than struggle with it later, when it's all I have.

The technique boiled through his mind, and he willed the teachings he'd received from the tree forward. Mana began bubbling at his shoulders, purple balls welling up and popping to form a mantle of leaves.

"Here goes nothing," he said, raising a hand and aiming it as best he could at the Shadow Wyrm.