The Fourth Founder-An Age of Adepts SI

The next day, afternoon…

Greem had to admit… the method, and by extension, the essence, was insanely awesome.

He'd trained with it only two times (yesterday and this morning), yet the benefits he'd obtained were mind boggling.

Seated on his bed in a meditative position, he kept his eyes shut and enjoyed the improved sense of health, power, and control.

Upon waking today, he felt refreshed. Better than he'd ever felt in his two lives. His body was lighter and his mind serene.

His thoughts were so unbelievably clear he could single out each errant one. The expected aches and pains, borne from engaging in intense exercise after a long period of inactivity and sleeping on a thin, low-quality mattress were also non-existent.

It was as though he'd taken a powerful brain booster and slept on the most comfortable bed ever made.

But this wasn't truly the case.

Yesterday's session seemed to have unlocked more than one thing within him. Not only did he wake up on clouds, he woke up feeling starved, his stomach practically crying and begging for food.

Luckily, he'd heeded the essence's instructions and made arrangements for this.

When he wolfed down the massive, magically preserved, leftovers from his trip to the canteen yesterday, he took the chance to indulge in the second largest and most important difference he could detect; his awareness.

In the same manner described by the essence, he'd obtained a passive form of the "inner world sense." It had been with him since he awoke, making him privy to the multitude of processes and changes taking place in his body.

Saying there were a lot of them would be an understatement. His tiny mind should've been crumbled from such massive input.

The reality however was the opposite. His mind hadn't ever felt this sharp and free. He didn't even know it was possible for it to be this way.

Same thing went for his body. It felt like a puppet he could commandeer to execute whatever he imagined at any time. To him, his whole body felt like his dominant hand, only, the sense of dexterity and control was multiplied by a hundred.

And there wasn't any "getting used to" with any of these changes, powers or whatever you wanna call them. They felt natural, as though they'd been a part of him forever.

That's why unlike yesterday, he felt none of the mild disquiet he experienced when he observed his fleshy and squishy insides.

As a matter of fact, he enjoyed watching it now.

There was just something about how hard his own body worked to strengthen and keep him alive. It eased his trepidation and reassured him of his future.

It told him that no matter what happened, he would be alright.

 ☀☀☀

​

Up on his feet and his hair slightly wet, Greem threw on a clean shirt and grabbed one of the cloaks hanging on the rack near his bed.

As an Apprentice adept, his role in this tower was to complete tasks assigned by the great adept and use the rewards to further his own studies in magic, increase his strength, or do whatever he wanted with them.

Again, as a lowly apprentice, a Beginner one to be precise, he couldn't apply for any of the easier jobs such as a Librarian or Probationary Apprentice teacher. These easy jobs with no risk whatsoever had been monopolized by the stronger and higher ranked apprentices.

This left the dangerous and life threatening tasks open for any Beginner or Intermediate apprentice desperate enough like him to complete them.

One of such tasks needed to be done every week or once every two weeks depending on the preference of the apprentice taking up the job.

Greem had signed up for it and it was almost time. In fact, his partner should be the one stomping towards his room right now based on the heavy footfalls making a beeline for his door.

Making sure the black cloak covered him well and would not impede his movement, Greem patted himself and smoothed his clothes down before crouching near his door.

He focused on a section of the floorboards not far away from it and extended his Spirit there, drawing in the ambient fire elementium.

He gathered and arranged them on the spot in a specific pattern, creating a makeshift alert system that would notify him should anyone break into his room while he was out.

Even though they were just teenagers, he could never let down his guard around his fellow apprentices.

In this place, if someone stood to gain some sort of benefit from taking advantage of you, they would do so without hesitation.

Standing up straight, he stifled a smile and put on a calm, impassive expression as the footsteps he'd been tracking came to a stop.

He opened the door and caught his partner with his mouth open, his shout caught in his throat.

True to his serious nature, Tony simply shut his mouth and nodded at Greem, his expression stony as ever.

Greem returned the nod and exited his room, locking it and joining his partner as they made their way down the dark and silent hallway.

They kept silent throughout the journey, with Greem flicking Tony the occasional side glance, a sense of wonder hidden within his eyes.

Tony was 15, just like he was. Yet the former towered over him, his broad shoulders and well-muscled arms highlighted by his tight cloak.

It was common knowledge that Tony was from the Grimm Highlands and as a result possessed some barbarian ancestry. His strapping physique and wild black mane all but confirmed it.

However this isn't what kept dragging Greem's eyes over to him.

It was [Meat Vision.] One of the abilities afforded by the method. When he first opened the door and interrupted Tony, this morbid sense activated and gave him a front row seat to the former's fleshy insides.

Perhaps, because he'd come to appreciate his own, setting eyes on another's red, delicate and squirming insides didn't unsettle him as much as he thought it would.

'We are all just walking sacks of flesh…' Greem thought contemplatively as he observed the plethora of muscle contractions occurring all over Tony's body.

Another ability afforded by the method was a sort of precognition. In the comics it was a blue shadow that highlighted the possible actions a person could take.

The essence explained that it was a combination of body language reading and quick reaction times, not actual future sight. It would however, still manifest as blue shadows.

As someone who'd sworn off the spellcasting path for the body and close combat path, Greem knew how invaluable such an ability could be.

If the amount of media he consumed about characters with combat precognition were accurate, people with such powers were a bitch and a half to fight.

That's why he was trying his damndest to see if he could trigger any blue shadows and predict Tony's movements.

Nothing happened.

It was just climbing down stairs after all. Greem surmised that perhaps it was because there wasn't any danger to him at the moment.

Well, that would soon change.

After climbing down the winding staircase, the duo emerged in the main of the tower's first floor.

There was a group of children here, gathered and seated in front of a teacher. These were the Probationary Apprentices, base humans just starting to learn magic.

As normal humans just starting to learn about the arcane, their living quarters were located on this floor, the lowest one.

They numbered about 20, their ages ranging from 8 to 14. Each of them came from far and wide with dreams of becoming adepts, fatally ignorant of what that actually entailed.

'Poor kids…' Greem thought as he picked up their noisy and excited chatter while passing by.

Sensing the numerous burning gazes boring into his back, he held back the urge to shake his head. He saw their teacher, Wallace, turn to look at him and remembered that he was on good terms with the man.

Not stopping his movements, he threw a quick nod and hello, cutting through the hall with Tony.

They soon arrived at a stone door that'd been sealed shut.

Having done this many times before, Tony placed his palm on the smooth surface and uttered a familiar incantation. "Curium Ada."

Triggered, the stone door split in half, the separated parts sliding in opposite directions with heavy dragging sounds to reveal a desolate and gloomy swamp.

Despite the sun being high up in the sky, Greem failed to see nor detect any hint of its golden radiance as he stepped outside the tower.

Instead, what greeted him was a bleak and intimidating landscape that pressed upon one's very soul.

Anyone unfortunate enough to live in such an environment for an extended period would most likely end up a worse and/or twisted version of themselves.

Right after they stepped out, the stone gates behind Greem and Tony dragged along the ground and shut with a bang. Taking that as his cue, the six foot tall teenager pulled his hood up and said, "I'm going that way."

He didn't wait for Greem's response and took off towards the left, moving to a narrow and winding trail lined with tiny white stones. When his large frame stepped on it and disappeared into the fog, that's when Greem also moved.

Pulling up his own hood, he went in the opposite direction and found a similar trail.

Calling upon the experiences and abilities instilled by the method and essence, he pushed his physical senses to their utmost and breathed out a light mist, adjusting to the heightened input in mere moments.

His emotions and focus soon fell under the same banner, the former growing muted and the later sharpening to a metaphorical razor edge.

Greem had never felt more aware and in control of himself. He felt… free. Confident. No matter the horrors that awaited, he would return in one piece.

Taking a few seconds to prime his body and (unconsciously) increase his neuromuscular efficiency to the absolute maximum, he took one big step and disappeared into the fog's embrace.

He took his time on the serpentine trail, putting eyes to the many strange plants and demonic creatures that used to exist only in memory.

Among them were short and thick cone-small leafy plants that curled upwards in spirals, green rattan vines that brushed against the top of his head when he walked under them, and mystical flowers sporting brightly colored petals the size of skateboards.

Despite their unnatural shapes and sizes, these plants actually exuded a harmless and even inviting air. It made it seem as though the swamp had no magical or dangerous elements to it.

That couldn't be further from the truth.

No mundane plant or animal could thrive in this hostile environment. Given the chance or opportunity, everything here would try to kill or maim him just for a tiny drop of his blood or a small piece of his flesh.

The swamp was a deathtrap.