Path of the Pioneers

2. Fight



The soldier at the front of the group glanced back at me, a little dumbfounded, and called back, “Step back in your home, miss! We’re apprehending a criminal!” The distraction was all it took for the crimson-haired warrior to pounce. She appeared before the soldier with truly shocking speed, twisting her whole body to swing her blade from her hip towards the man’s head. It met its mark with a heavy, metallic thud.

The man fell to the ground, groaning with what little faculties he had remaining. She had started her war path through the group.

'Criminal' could mean any number of things. If I were to guess, she just refused to be a loyal tool of the Crown. That's all that it took for an awakened to be hunted down like a dog. Stepping in wasn't exactly a noble act, there was clearly a reason that so many soldiers had been here. With so many of them defeated, it was only a matter of time before they stumbled upon me. I could only imagine the amount of them swarming in on this village if she did manage to slip away. That, and something about her didn't exactly ring out to me as 'criminal.'

I quickly looked all across the remaining six. This was going far too well. The soldiers of the Crown, especially the ones sent to hunt awakened, were often incredibly frightening and highly skilled. And without a doubt, there should have been at least a few in their number who were awakened as well…

Realization dawned on me as one young soldier swung his sword down at the woman. She clenched her teeth as it made another dent in her armor.

For her to have made it this far out, she must have already cut down dozens of men. The strongest of them had likely already been left far beyond. The ones pursuing her now were simply afraid of being punished for abandoning the chase.

A small plume of mist, like hot steam, rolled out of her mouth as she sharply exhaled into the cold air. Once more, she swung her sword, and once more another soldier was struck down.

But was the potential punishment worse than this? Certainly, her movements were slowing down, but I had no doubt that the soldiers would all be defeated well before she succumbed to her wounds.

Still, I wasn’t content with taking that risk. I took a deep breath, and extended my left palm out.

My master had taught me everything I knew about magic. Thus my class: Apprentice. She told me that all of the strongest mages perceived mana differently. Conceptualized it in different ways. Being able to have a fine control over mana was absolutely dependent on how well you could visualize it in your mind.

As for how I viewed mana?

I hadn’t found a way of my own, instead simply relying on my master’s instruction. She told me that the easiest way to perceive mana was as myriad threads. Threads that could be stitched together or pulled away, something that could be manipulated with the ease with which a seamstress patches up a blanket.

A dozen thin, wispy threads of mana flowed out from my fingertips. They were invisible to the naked eye, even my own. But I knew exactly where they were, like a sixth sense.

I clenched my fist, and the threads each tied themselves around small rocks scattered along the road. This was [Telekinesis], a basic application of the threads. I swung my fist out, splaying my fingers to open my hand up. The threads raised all at once, the rocks releasing from their grips to fly towards their targets.

Half of the soldiers were struck in the head by the rocks I had thrown, the rest of the projectiles had missed entirely. It had a definite impact, though. The men clutched their heads, pained, and began swaying on their feet like they were close to unconsciousness.

The bright text of my status window appeared with a small chime, and I waved it away, only making out [Congratulations! Skill "Telekinesis" has leveled up-] before it flickered away. It was good to know that knocking people across the head with rocks was a valid training strategy.

One soldier turned towards me, taking notice of how I pelted his comrades. He charged, swerving around his former quarry, just as she smashed the side of her sword into another one of their heads. He was likely the smartest of the bunch, seeing as he recognized and switched his priorities to the mage.

An awakened could lose to an unawakened. It’s a simple fact. Even some of the strongest awakened are prone to having their throats slit in the night, especially the ones lacking in perception skills. My master spent a great deal of time drilling the basics into me for that exact reason.

At the level I was at, I couldn’t afford the luxury of treating an unawakened as weak. Especially one that was specifically sent out to hunt down an awakened.

He was hunched over, sword pointed towards me and drawn back. A stab? Maybe. There was no way to tell if it was a feint or not, so the best move was to stop it altogether. I stuck my hand out once more, and the threads flew for their target with a new speed. “Just one rank did this?”

The man stopped in his tracks as the invisible threads coiled around his sword, trying to rip it out of his hands. “A little bit more, then..” 

I clenched my fist, sending more mana into the threads. They became thicker, more sturdy with their hold. I concentrated all my focus on disarming the man.

Suddenly, the sword flew through the air, freed from his hands. But it wasn’t my spell that had done it. Once more, he was sprinting towards me, now barehanded, having abandoned his sword. Regardless, a solid hit with his gauntlets would spend me sprawling across the ground.

There were a few moments left for me before certain doom at his hands. I stuck my hand out a final time, to cast a different spell. Countless threads emerged from my palm, coiled together tightly. They began moving around one another, grinding together all at once.

Friction generated heat. My master’s thought process was that through creating friction with mana itself, you could make vast amounts of heat, and even create flames from nothing.

“Tighter, more friction!” The threads began squeezing down more, becoming almost taut. The grinding slowed, becoming more rhythmic. I could feel the heat it was giving off. All it required now was a spark.

I pushed out my palm more, pointing it towards the soldier. All at once, the threads burst and snapped, and a great gout of fire sprayed out from my hand, blanketing the man’s upper torso and head. It felt like an eternity. The concentration required to keep the flames in check. It felt as if I had my hand in the fire, even though it was entirely unharmed.

Once I heard the thump of the man falling to the ground, I closed my hand into a fist, snuffing out the fire and ending the stream.

I heard the chime of my status window, pulling me back into reality. My vision had gone nearly all black. “Did it really use so much mana..? I’m gonna pass out..”

I put my hands on my knees, steadying myself as I blinked. My vision was slowly returning to me. [Telekinesis] is a parlor trick compared to other magic. Something like [Flame Generation] consumed a massive amount of mana. [Flame Control] would be even worse, but it was a skill I hadn’t ever managed to acquire.

My status window was still in front of me, becoming more legible as my vision came back to me.

[Congratulations! Skill "Flame Generation" has leveled up! Rank F -> E]

There before me, laying face-down near my feet, was the smoldering body of the soldier who targeted me. The source of the sudden skill level up. I looked back up and around.

The crimson-haired woman was still standing. I caught her within my sight just in time to witness her strike down the final soldier with an anticlimactic smack of her sword, sending him toppling over.

Only to collapse to the ground immediately after, flat on her back.


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