Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]

Crossing his arms, Hector let out a sigh. These trials were draining him a little. Though he'd only done two more rooms so far, both had involved fighting some strange form of creature. The first, a wolf with far too many limbs to actually be called one. What kind of beast walked around with six limbs? That wasn't normal. And then there was this most recent room.

Hector's gaze shifted to the swamp-like area, with small mushroom top-like islands popping up out of thick, murky water. It had been a pain sloshing to each one, and he'd even lost a sandal at one point.

Sighing, his gaze moved to Marcus, who currently knelt on the ground, picking through a bunch of herbs he'd laid out. According to him, at least, he didn't have enough space to pack all of this, complaining that they should have brought some extra bags just for situations like this one.

Hector had rolled his eyes at the boy's complaints, but he kind of agreed with him. Most of the potions Marcus had made so far—three total—were actually useful. The poison nullification was good, the speed one provided a not-so-significant boost, and the last one, the Duckworth potion—an odd name if Hector had ever heard one—gave a significant boost to strength.

"Are you done?" Lincoln chided as he lazed on the ground and dusted off his pants leg. He then rolled onto his back and leapt to his feet, his spear firmly in his grip. "I kind of want to make it back to the Sanctuary and have something to eat before I grow old, you know, Marcus?"

"Oh, shut up," Jodie said, scooping up some sand and flinging it towards the boy.

Lincoln shielded his eyes, backing away rather pathetically.

Hector shook his head. "Calm down, you two. Marcus, how's it going?"

Marcus looked up, combing a strand of brown hair behind his ear and letting out a sigh as he adjusted his mask.

"It's alright," he said, turning back to his flowers and poking at them. "You see this one here?" He pointed at a rather thick plant with tight red petals wound into a ball. "This is a Crackleroot. I kind of need it for two of the potions, and it's actually the most abundant. I even think I've seen something like it at the edge of the Shade Forest."

"Oh, really?" Hector said, trying to remember the plant. This was good. Marcus didn't have to continue stuffing his bag with plants if they could find some of them in the trial realm itself. Hector would have to make a note to get extra backpacks in the future and collect some. These potions would be good to bring back to Middlec, let alone the other plants Marcus would need when he got his inheritance. "So, does this mean you're going to be finished soon?"

"Soon," Marcus said, nodding.

With that, Hector turned, making his way over to a tree and resting his back against it. There was nothing to do now but wait for his friend to finish.

Just under an hour later, Marcus yawned, stretching and slipping the bag onto his back as he got to his feet.

"All done," he said, patting down his knees and turning towards the large wooden door that sealed this room. "Should we get out of here then?" he said, his voice oddly cheerful. Though how could he not be? He was practically digging through piles and piles of resources, finding things that worked and tinkering. If Hector didn't know any better, he'd suspect the boy already had a product list of all the potions he'd sell in the future.

"Ready," Hector said, pushing off the tree. His gaze drifted towards the ceiling, which had now taken on a much darker shade. Then he raised a curious eyebrow. Not only was there weather in this room, but a day and night cycle too. Did this reflect the outside world? If so, it was getting late.

How was Mirae doing out there? The creatures, while not much different at nighttime, were definitely a lot more territorial. It wouldn't do too well if she woke up any odd bear that was within the Gravity Forging Realm. "I hope you're all right, Mirae," he muttered before a hand gripped his shoulder.

He turned, nodding at Jodie.

"You alright?" she asked.

"More than perfect," he said, stepping past her and moving towards the door. "Let's get out of here."

With that, he pulled on the door, and it popped open by itself with heavy groans as it scraped across the dirt. But he found an unexpected sight on the other side.

Screams and cries of pain as the clashing of metal rang in his ear. A person flew across his vision, landed hard and tumbled to a stop, blood dripping from a wound at their side. The person reached for it, groaning. Hadn't that man been with Eileen earlier?

Hector stepped farther out of the room, with the rest of his group behind him, and frowned at the sight. In the hallway, a battle was underway. Mercenaries fighting mercenaries, Aline at the front, sword clashing with a girl that Hector was fairly certain was on her team, but a few hours before. What was going on here?

The only thing that cleared this mess up was the fact that the mercenaries Eileen's team were fighting clearly belonged to another group. Hector didn't recognise them. Their uniforms were a mismatch of leather and simple cloth. They had obviously not spent much time in the Trial Realm buying equipment. If he had to guess, they'd invested most of it in their gear.

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A heavy thump sounded to Hector's side, and he turned as a man slumped from the wall and dropped to his knees before falling flat on his face. Another of Eileen's people. This wasn't going well for them. The enemy was pushing them down the hallway with apparent ease.

Should he get involved? Should he risk his friends? Part of him wanted to, but there was no benefit in helping a group simply because you met them first. Hector's gaze moved further down the hall, past the fighting group and to the back lines where a man dressed in rather fine battle robes stood smiling.

He gripped a bottle of red liquid in his hands as his gaze shifted between the injured fighters. A cruel fascination was taking over his features. He was enjoying this, but not in a way that someone would enjoy seeing a tournament or watching gladiators. He was enjoying this from a more perverse perspective, as if waiting for the right moment to do something.

Hector's gaze moved back to Eileen as she kicked back the girl she was fighting and then staggered away.

"How could you?" she spat, raising a sword and jabbing it towards the girl she just sent backwards.

"How could I?" The girl smiled, flicking her hair away from her eye. "The question should be, how could I not? Oh, great team leader, you were so focused on your revenge that you failed to see anything wrong with your actions. You risked all of us for your own so-called justice. But I saw a better way, a way that would benefit me. So when a deal was on the table, of course, I jumped at it."

She laughed, flicking her sword to the side, blood splattering onto the white tile, and then she levelled it at Eileen. "I kill you, I'm rewarded with a not-so-small title and a piece of land to my name. What more could a girl ask for?"

The girl then lunged forward, raising her sword and slashing at Eileen. Eileen blocked, ducked, and then kicked out again. But the other girl brushed it to the side before delivering a vicious strike of her own. The two engaged in a furious skirmish, swords clashing, sparks flying.

"Hector, we have to do something," Jodie said from behind.

He turned, glancing from her to the fight. "Do what? We haven't got a reason to help either side, have we?" Even as the words left his lips, there was no confidence in them. Nobles were cruel and untrustworthy. But unlike them, Eileen had seemed kind enough.

Jodie shook her head. "But they're losing."

"But what does that have to do with us?" Lincoln said in response. "I mean, sure, they may lose to these nobles, but there's no guarantee the nobles will come after us next."

"What do you mean they won't come after us next?" Jodie said. "You don't know that for sure. For all we know, they may finish them and come for us. Do you think a noble like that is going to be kind enough to just let us go when he potentially sees us as a threat?"

"And why would he see us as a threat?"

Jodie gestured to Marcus. "That guy clearly has a potion in his hand, and I'd guess he is also going for the alchemy inheritance, you dimwit. Nobles are cruel, calculating, and, frankly, the most selfish people on this planet. So if I were them, I think I would go after Marcus too."

"Guys," Hector said. But before he could get out what he was about to say, a shout interrupted him.

"You there!"

Hector's head snapped toward the voice. A boy, probably a few years younger than Hector, and one he'd seen standing next to Eileen earlier, moved towards him. The boy ducked, dodging the blade of a would-be adversary, and then jerked up, slamming his shoulder hard into the woman's chest.

She stumbled back, and then the boy raised his foot and kicked her hard in the stomach, sending her stumbling to the floor.

He was on her a moment later, raising his sword high and then slashing it down, the blade passing clean through his adversary's throat. A river of blood spilt free a moment later, and the boy staggered away.

"Please, I have a request." His hand slipped into his side pocket, and he pulled out a wooden box. Decorated with ornate filigree, probably a bit too fancy for someone who'd just murdered an individual in such a cruel manner, the box sat in his shaking palm. "Take it, please," he said, tossing it.

It arced through the air, and Hector reached out a hand, snatching it. The cool wood brushed over his fingers, and he rubbed his thumb against the metal. His gaze shifted back to the boy, and as if sensing Hector's question, he nodded.

"I need you to bring the box to a friend of ours. He'll know what to do. His name is Nathan—"

Before he could finish, a sword arced towards him. He raised his own blade to meet it in a clash of steel and staggered back. A foot slammed into his side from the individual who'd just attacked him, and the two then engaged in a furious battle. The individual pushed him further back. The conversation was now lost.

"Hector," Jodie said, her tone practically asking if he was just going to stand there, whether he would abandon someone who needed help.

"What am I supposed to do? He asked us to deliver a message. Shouldn't we at least honour that request? Honour that wish?" Hector demanded. Didn't she see the risk they'd be taking? Even if they won, that would be another noble family on their backs.

"We should help them," she replied, as if it were all so simple. All so easy. "We can do way more than any of those guys. They're what, Gravity Forging Three? Gravity Forging Four maximum? We can handle that."

Hector bit his lip, his gaze moving back to the chaos. Bodies littered the floor. Men chasing down other men and spearing them in the back. Other fighters dragged their foes by the hair and pulled them to the ground before sinking swords into their chests. Eileen had what, maybe four able-bodied individuals left? That wouldn't last long.

"Ah, by the Great Lake," Hector said. His gaze snapped to Lincoln. "Keep Marcus safe. Jodie, you're with me."

He slipped the box into his pocket, and then he pulled on his Talents, letting the static churn through his body, zapping to his fingertips and crackling to life as two purple blades. The field of electricity then bubbled to life around him. Sparing his friends from its effects, he stepped away, turned, and then bolted off.

—- —- —- —-

Jodie would never say she loved to seek justice for others, but it annoyed her when those who had more used that power to bully those who had less. It was almost a pet peeve of hers.

And in this case, the noble of the so-called Zulan family was doing just that. With his mercenaries, he was wiping out a small team, killing them in cold blood. He could have perhaps defeated them with brute force, put them down, injured them, but killing? How was that necessary? How was that even tolerable?

She slipped to the side as a man slashed a sword down towards her. The metal bit into the red carpet, and her fists shot up, slamming into his chin and taking him off his feet. She was gone before he landed, chasing after her questionable leader.

Hector had a strange mind sometimes, with an even stranger ability, though perhaps those two went hand in hand. But there was one thing she was sure of: he had a good heart, better than Lincoln's anyway.