Surviving The Myriad Worlds (A Multiplanar LitRPG)

"Follow me."

With that, Moeris turned and marched towards a hallway with a parade-perfect stride. Dante hastened to follow, not wanting to sour the man's impression of him further. He hovered behind Moeris, not sure if he should stand beside or behind him. A perfunctory glance at the soldiers around him did not yield any answers.

I have no idea what is right. Pauwna only ever taught me the basics. Well, it's not like this guy can dislike me too much more.

Dante gazed through some of the open doors they passed by and through them, he could see training rooms similar to the one on the landship. As a rule, they were larger, less nice, and packed with soldiers. Dante jumped as there was a muffled thump followed by a wave of smoke billowing from one of the doors in front of them. As no one else reacted or even spared a glance, it seemed like such things were normal here. He glanced into the offending room and saw that a significant section was covered in scorch marks at the center of which was a disgruntled woman who was brushing ashes from her armor. Aside from the black residue, the room seemed undamaged.

Dante realized with a start that he was attracting looks from many soldiers they passed. A lot of angry ones. The rest seemed … unsure of him, which didn't surprise him. It must seem the height of unfairness to them, having a low-ranked foreigner who didn't even speak their language particularly well elevated to the side of their First Princess.

Dante decided to test the waters a little. "Attendant Moeris" He began, unsure of how to address the man. "I am surprised that one of your station has made time for me. I am aware of the demands on your time and will put my utmost into being a good student."

Silence.

Can't say I didn't see that coming, but I had to try. It seems like I am going to end up in Ahzi's orbit for a good long while, so I can't have her trusted right-hand man so mistrustful of me.

Taking the cold shoulder in stride, Dante walked in silence until they stopped in front of a door that was different from the others, being larger and the only one that possessed a lock. A key materialized in Morris's hands, which he inserted into the lock and opened the door.

I am not seeing things, right? He didn't just store it in his sleeve or something? Does this mean that pocket dimensions or inventory spaces exist in this world? If so, then I want one. It would make a lot of my plans more possible.

Moeris ushered him inside with a dismissive wave, then closed and locked the door behind him. The room beyond was large, nearly the size of a high school gymnasium, and far more sophisticated than the landship training room. Life-like puppets lined the walls, built into tracks on the floor. It looked like they could move and, considering the runes inscribed on it and the complexity of their joints, perhaps even attack. Racks of every weapon imaginable filled one corner of the room and another had what could only be described as multiple control consoles which was hooked up to the various magic circles scattered about. All in all, it was certainly a space suitable for hosting royalty.

"Sit," commanded Moeris.

Dante did so, feeling more than a little nervous, and Moeris followed suit. However, the man sat in a different style — with his feet tucked underneath his thighs. Seeing that, Dante belatedly copied him, not wanting to highlight his ignorance anymore. A choice he soon regretted as his legs soon began to burn.

"Apologies attendant Moeris, but have I done something to —"

"Silence."

With that pronouncement, pressure squeezed down on his aura, cutting off his words before he could register the command. It was like he had been shoved in an iron maiden. Moeris's aura was like the guard at the gates, but instead of rusted iron, this was steel. Meticulously polished and stained with blood.

Dante pushed back, but his efforts were swept aside like they were not even there. This was different from his previous experiences with Ahzi. This was hostile. Moeris's aura mercilessly crushed his at every opportunity and continued bearing down on him. His aura was compressed to the smallest it had ever been for months — a mere few inches from his skin. Dante had never been claustrophobic, but that sensation triggered a panic response in him. But he could not move. No matter how much he wished to.

"Let me be clear," Moeris said, each word striking like a hammer blow. "I do not want you here."

Even now, Moeris did not look at him. However, the disdain on his face was clear even for Dante to see.

"Despite my repeated objections, the First Princess has been clear in your admitting you to her personal circle. What she sees in you, I do not know. What is now certain is that you will take up one of our few slots on this diplomatic expedition. The First Princess's life and the future of the Empire rests, in part, on your shoulders. So, I now have to spend my incredibly valuable time on making you less of a burden. You cannot comprehend the level of resources that will be spent on you in the next few days. Do not disappoint me or else your time here will be a nightmare. Am I clear?"

Dante swallowed. "Yes, very clear."

"Good. With that understanding, let us proceed. We have very little time."

The pressure vanished and Dante fell onto his hands and knees. He took great heaving breaths and struggled to get his heartbeat under control. Despite the absence of that terrifying aura, the memory of it lingered every time he looked at Moeris. And yet he still maintained unbroken eye contact. Dante resigned himself to being permanently nervous around the man.

"We only have a week until the audience with the Empresses, may she live forever. By normal methods, this is not enough time to make any noticeable improvements". One by one, Moeris began conjuring small bottles from thin air and set them on the floor. There were many types, varying in color and consistency. Some even bubbled ominously and others sparkled or sparked.

Stolen story; please report.

"As such, we must turn to more … drastic methods. Drink this."

The vial that Moeris passed to Dante was so bright green that it almost seemed to glow. He took it delicately, looked at the uncompromising expression on Moeris's face, and cracked open the lid. A smell like spoiled milk mixed with garlic wafted from it and Dante fought the urge to gag. Every instinct he possessed told him not to drink it.

That is vile. Is Moeris trying to kill me? But he wouldn't need such a roundabout way to do that. Maybe it's so that he could claim it was an accident? Shit, there is no way I am going to get out of this, is there?

Resolving himself, Dante took a deep breath and drained the bottle. He almost spit it up. It was so bitter, like drinking the blackest coffee laced with expired lime juice. Fortunately, the vial was small and the experience was over quickly. Though the aftertaste certainly lingered

Moeris nodded, seeming faintly pleased. "Good, you didn't waste any. That vial alone is worth more than your yearly salary, soldier. And it's among the less valuable reagents you will be using. Thank your ancestors for your luck this day."

Still trying to get the taste of the substance out of his mouth, Dante gathered up his courage and asked: "What exactly is it?"

"Poison."

Dante stared blankly at Moeris.

That has to be a joke, right? … Who am I kidding, I don't think this man knows how to smile.

"And why did you have me drink poison?"

"Because you are weak. Your strength attribute is at the level of mortals, which simply will not do. I've read the reports from your time behind enemy lines. We cannot afford to assign someone to look after you every time you are incapacitated from your power. That poison is extracted from a specially curated species of spider. They will stalk their prey, delivering a quick bite and retreating. They will follow their victim at a distance, allowing the poison to do its work. It targets muscle, slowly turning it into a slurry. When the prey can no longer move, the spider will approach and feast. You might be able to feel its effects already."

Dante had turned pale by the end of the story. He concentrated and was chilled to learn that he did feel different. Heat suffused his limbs. Painful pinpricks ran up and down his muscles as if they had fallen asleep. Dante could even detect a small amount of damage accumulating within the buffer for [Mana Body Fortification]. Dante fought down a rising panic.

"Alone, this effect would not be noteworthy. Many poisons paralyze, kill, or torture more effectively. It is unremarkable, save for one thing. The poison happens to act exactly like how muscles are broken down during exercise. Combined with other magical reagents and a generous dose of healing magic, this effect can be amplified so that one can build years of muscle in days. Even with our time limitations, we should be able to build you up to your natural strength limit. In a way, it is fortunate that your strength is so poor."

Ok. Now that he's explained it, this doesn't sound so bad. Wish that he just did that from the start.

"Of course, this is best done in conjunction with actual exercise. Choose your weapon and prepare yourself for sparing," Moeris commanded and swept a hand towards the veritable arsenal of weapons in the corner of the room.

Man, if you want to beat me up just say so. Because it sounds like doing pushups or the like would work as well. Though, after second thought, I can't say I am opposed to it.

Recalling what Pauwna had told him, skills and abilities leveled faster when facing strong opponents. What better opponent could Dante possibly hope for than this? Someone who could stand against a Primordial Dragon? And he would fight them for a week?

Priceless.

It almost made Dante glad that he had been picked up by the Princess. Almost. The only question that remained was how he should fight Moeris?

Ah! I might as well try that.

Dante wandered over to the weapons, grimacing as his muscles cried out with pangs of pain. It really did feel like he had been working out, but without sweat — which was an odd sensation. He quickly spotted his desired weapons, fetching a quiver of heavy bolts and a buckler. Concentrating for a moment, he pushed the shield and one of the bolts into the air. Dante hovered the shield in front of him, between himself and Moeris, and the bolt above him. Then, he returned.

"You are not going to wield a weapon yourself?" Asked Moeris, raising an eyebrow.

"I possess a martial arts skill which forbades me from using other weapons."

Dante had no problem revealing this information. It would have come out anyway in the course of their training. Most of his fighting abilities would. He would just need to take care he didn't reveal some of his more sensitive abilities.

"Foolish. Flesh will always lose against an enchanted weapon."

"That is why I have the shield."

Moeris grunted, then waved Dante forward. "C'mon, Let me see your best shot."

Dante was certainly happy to give him that. Since Moeris seemed content to wait, Dante used [Aura Compression] to create an aura-rich, thin corridor that ran straight to Moeris's head. He soon encountered a problem, however. His aura failed to manifest anywhere within about twenty feet of the man and he soon stopped trying.

Here it goes.

Dante quickly overloaded [Chameleon], [Overloaded Senses], and [Temperal Reactions]. With each activation, his power grew, boosted by the passive effects of [Rising Tide] — which he had figured out increased all of his physical stats by five percent per activation. His muscles visibly swelled, his movements more sure, and his eyesight sharpened. Feeling confident, he finally activated [Force Paragon] and let go of the crossbow bolt.

With a whistling sound, the bolt shot forward at a speed he was confident was comparable to a low-caliber bullet. Even his currently enhanced senses could not keep track of it. Though he certainly saw where it landed.

Moeris twirled the bolt through his fingers, a thoughtful expression on his face. As clear as day, Dante had seen him snatch from the air as if it were an errant leaf. Which was very disheartening.

"Not bad," said Moeris, who threw the bolt back to him. "For your level at least. You chose your abilities with care. But, you are limited by your choice of weapons. That attack would struggle to injure someone at your same level."

Dante cleared his throat, embarrassed. "I intended to make up for it using enchanted weapons. Besides, defense is my specialty."

"Let's put that to the test, shall we? Prepare yourself, for it is my turn."