Silverspear (Rise to Omniscience Book 6)

by Aaron Oster

  “You look like you’ve got it too easy,” Morgan said, putting a thoughtful expression on his face.

  Grace looked up at him with a mixture of horror and suppressed rage, but Morgan ignored it. Reaching down, he lifted a vest. It wasn’t very fashionable. In fact, it was downright ugly, containing multiple lumps of grayish-blue metal sewn on in odd places. However, it would serve its purpose.

  “Put this on,” Morgan said, holding the vest out to her.

  Grace reached out a hand, carefully taking the vest. It dropped to the ground with a loud clank as soon as he released it.

  “Holy shit! What the hell is this thing?”

  “That thing will make sure you’re really working for it,” Morgan answered, painting an evil smile onto his face.

  He was really getting into the whole sadistic teacher role. No wonder Gold taught this way!

  “Are you kidding? I can’t even pick it up!” Grace exclaimed, straining to lift the vest.

  “How rude of me,” Morgan said. “Allow me to help.”

  He proceeded to lift the vest and slide it over Grace’s slim shoulders. The girl’s knees buckled under the weight, and she nearly went to the ground.

  “Great,” Morgan said, affecting a cheery tone once again. “Now, run.”

  “I can’t…”

  “RUN!”

  Grace took off once again, this time a lot slower. As Morgan watched her stagger off, he wondered just how long she’d last. He had given her a pretty heavy vest, though it was still lighter than the chain Gold had originally saddled him with. He wondered if he might be a softer teacher than Gold for doing this but ultimately decided that Gold was just a regular asshole, while he was actually trying to teach.

  He was sure of one thing. By the end of the day, Grace would curse the decision she’d made, but it had to be done. This would not only test her physical endurance, but also what she could handle mentally. The life of a fighter was not an easy one, and the weak-minded never made it far. To be a warrior, one had to be stronger mentally than they were physically. He’d learned that lesson many times.

  As Grace came staggering back to him, sweat pouring off her brow, Morgan noticed that she was slowing down.

  “Did I tell you to stop?” he called to her. “Pick up the pace! If you don’t finish the next lap in under three minutes, you’ll be running the next with double the weight!”

  Grace gave him a look of the utmost loathing before doing as she’d been told and picking up the pace.

  14

  Grace felt as though she were about to pass out. The crushing weight of the vest made her every step the greatest agony, while her lungs burned in tandem with her every plodding step. She had no idea how long she’d been running for, but the pain was worse than anything she could have imagined.

  Worse still, she’d finished her last lap too slowly, but instead of piling on more weight, Morgan had simply pelted her with stones as she ran to speed her up. He was a master of torture, throwing the rocks just hard enough to be felt, but not so hard as to leave a bruise. He also had an impeccable aim, hitting her in the most painful areas on her torso, without hitting anything vital.

  Never in her life had she known her body could feel such pain. Not when she’d fought with the mean boys in her village, not when she’d fallen and scraped up her hands and knees. Not even when that beast had taken a bite out her leg before her father had driven it away. This was pure torture, and as she came around for what felt like the hundredth time, Morgan finally called a stop.

  “Drink slowly. I wouldn’t recommend sitting either,” he said, as he held out the canteen.

  Grace snatched at the metal container, ignoring her trainer’s warnings and plopping down, taking a huge swig from the canteen. She saw Morgan shaking his head out of the corner of her eye, but just mentally flipped him off. The asshole was paying her back for the way she’d acted yesterday, but that was fine. She’d endured worse, and at the end of the day, she’d still be standing. He couldn’t make her quit, couldn’t make her…

  Grace leaned to the side, choking on the water as a wave of nausea hit. The next moment, she was vomiting once again, the water she’d so greedily consumed coming up in a rush to splatter across the ground. She gasped, retching and heaving as nausea attacked her. However, instead of being sympathetic, Morgan just barked out another order.

  “On your feet! Start running!”

  Grace half-turned, staring at him through watery eyes and wondering if he was a demon in disguise. When she didn’t get up, small stones started rising all around her, and she took the hint. She turned back, trying to get her feet under her once more, but finding herself unable to stand up. She grunted as the first pebble struck, smacking painfully into her ribs, this time, definitely hard enough to bruise.

  “Ow! That hurt, you bastard!” she yelled, only to have another smack her in the fleshy part of her upper arm.

  “Ow!” she yelled again.

  When the third stone hit, she realized that the only way to escape the pain was to start running, but that was easier said than done. The vest she wore felt heavier than ever, and no matter how she strained, she couldn’t regain her footing. She now realized why Morgan had advised her against sitting, but as the rocks continued to pelt her, that was of little comfort.

  Finally, after a single mighty heave failed to get her to her feet, Grace had an idea. She simply used her Body Shift, doubling her density. This way, the stones wouldn’t hurt nearly as badly.

  “Ow!” she yelled as the next stone hit her with far greater force than the last.

  “That’s smart to try and use a skill, but you’d do well to remember that I can see whenever you do.”

  The stones came in faster now, pelting her two or three at a time. The bruises began to mount as Grace desperately tried to get to her feet. Nothing she did was working. No matter how hard she pushed, how much she struggled, she could not regain her footing.

  The vest is simply too heavy to…

  Grace’s thoughts came to a screaming halt. She desperately tore at the straps holding the vest in place. Shedding the troublesome weight, she was on her feet in a flash and running as fast as she could from the pelting stones. They stopped after a few more seconds, and Grace let out a sigh of relief.

  That was short-lived, as when she came back on the returning lap, she found Morgan holing the vest. There was a very noticeable change as well. Two more bars of metal sat strapped to each shoulder, and when Morgan slid it on once more, Grace very nearly fell to the ground.

  “Good thinking, getting out of the vest,” he said, patting her on the shoulder. “Maybe next time, you’ll heed my advice. Now, get moving!”

  Feeling sick, dehydrated, and in more pain than anyone had a right to be, Grace took off once again, inwardly cursing the smug man for all she was worth.

  “I think that’s enough running for the day. You can stop now.”

  It took Grace’s exhausted mind several seconds to process that information, and several more before her body got the message as well. She looked up to see Morgan standing before her with a wide grin. A moment later, relief swept through her as the crushing weight was lifted from her shoulders, leaving her feeling oddly light, yet still heavy.

  “We’re…done?” she asked, looking up at him through hazy vision.

  “For now. You’ve got an hour to wash up and eat. Then we’ll be off to train your mind.”

  The last thing Grace even wanted to think about right now was food, but the canteen Morgan held out to her was a welcome sight indeed. She snatched it eagerly, only just remembering to sip slowly, so as to avoid her previous experience.

  “There’s a river just behind that group of trees,” Morgan said as she slowly drank. “There, you’ll find a change of clothes, as well as some food. I’ll expect you to pack all of that tomorrow, but seeing as it’s your first day, I figured I’d take care of it. Well, see you in an hour then!”

  Grace was treated to one last evil grin
before Morgan vanished into thin air. Her legs buckled then, and she slumped to the ground, her head pounding and her vision swimming. Her body ached in every imaginable way, and the throbbing pain of her bruises, pulled muscles, and burning lungs competed with the tiny person attacking her brain with a sledgehammer.

  She wanted to simply lie there, but she knew that that would be a bad idea. Morgan had only given her an hour, and she was a sticky, sweaty mess. Her hair, voluminous and neatly curled this morning, now fell in sweaty strands around her face, clinging to the back of her neck and falling into her eyes.

  Her clothes were drenched, so wet that one might have thought she’d taken a plunge into a river. Grace hadn’t even known that a human body was capable of producing so much sweat, but here she was, without a dry spot on her. She staggered towards the copse of trees, not feeling even a little self-conscious as she began to strip out of her sweat-drenched clothes.

  The rushing stream looked so inviting, and even though she knew it was likely to be freezing, she just couldn’t bring herself to care. She did stop briefly, rifling through the small pack to retrieve the bar of soap and towel left for her. The steam was indeed freezing, but the cold was enough to shock her out of her stupor.

  She gasped, feeling goosebumps prickle up all over her skin, even as she groaned in pleasure. The cool water soothed her boiling body, numbing all the aches and pains and reinvigorating her. She stood there, crouched in the stream so that only her head was above the water, and enjoyed the feeling of the stream moving around her.

  Dipping her head back, she allowed her hair to stream out behind her and took a long, deep breath. Never before had she appreciated something so simple in her life. While running, her lungs could never seem to get enough air. Twice, she nearly passed out, only to have Morgan stop her. The breaks were only ever long enough for her to recover somewhat before she was forced to start running once again.

  “That bastard’s got some real nerve,” Grace muttered, remembering the sadistic way in which he’d tortured her.

  Making her wear a weighted vest, timing her laps, and throwing rocks at her?! What the hell kind of sadist did something like that? Did he get off on torturing little girls?

  Grace shook herself, taking another deep breath and reminding herself that she was no longer a little girl. She was fourteen and would be an adult in just a few more years. Sure, she was short for her age and a little behind the other girls in terms of development. This, in turn, did make her appear younger than she actually was, but that didn’t mean she was a little girl.

  She pulled her head from the water and reached for the soap then, knowing that she didn’t have all day to lounge about. She scrubbed herself vigorously, wincing whenever she passed over an area that was particularly tender. There was a clear mass of welts and red marks peppering her body from where all the stones had struck, but as she’d noted earlier, Morgan’s aim was impeccable.

  She’d been struck in the stomach, ribs, chest, and upper arms. All other areas were clear of even a single mark, which, when she thought about it, made a sick sort of sense. Hitting her legs would slow her down, and pelting her head, torso, or back would be dangerous. The lower arms were covered in less fat, and hands were full of small bones that could easily be broken.

  The fact that Morgan knew where to aim to inflict the most pain and the least amount of damage was oddly disturbing. It meant he had an intimate knowledge of the human body and how it worked, which made Grace wonder just how good he was at taking it apart. She’d heard stories, rumors, the whispers of palace servants about how powerful he was.

  She’d heard stories back home too, but as far removed as her family had been, she hadn’t really gotten a good sense of the man. She had no idea what his abilities were, though she now knew that he could use some form of teleportation, flight, and had control over the earth. Still, that didn’t tell her much, and she couldn’t really see any connection between the three.

  Grace finished scrubbing herself, making sure to get all the grime off before rinsing. Though she was loath to do so, she finally got out of the river, dripping wet and shivering. She immediately wrapped herself in the towel, rubbing at her hair and skin to warm herself up once again.

  Digging through the pack, she found an unfamiliar set of clothes, ones she’d never seen before. They were a blue and gray set of shirt and pants. There were several buckles and bulky patches that she couldn’t make sense of at first. However, after getting her underclothes on, she finally realized what they were — an armored uniform.

  Far from putting her at ease at figuring it out, the armor only made her more nervous. What sort of fresh hell would Morgan be imparting that he felt the need to outfit her in armor? Still, it was either wear the armor or put on the sweaty heap of clothes lying next to the river, and seeing as she’d just scrubbed herself clean, that was the last thing she wanted to do.

  The armor fit her extremely well, the pants fitting snugly around her thighs and opening to a bit of a flared cuff at the bottom. A series of straps ran up the side, allowing her to adjust just how tight she wanted them to be. Twin patches of leather covered the fronts of her thighs, and another covered her shins.

  The shirt was of a similar design, the material feeling light and breathable, but still durable enough to take a beating. It clung tightly, though the straps would allow her to adjust at will. It was an interesting design, and she noticed a pair of straps near the upper portions of the arms, allowing the sleeves to either be worn or detached.

  Grace briefly debated detaching them right now. She’d have killed to have less material clinging to her while running, but if she was going to have to fight, the extra protection would be welcome. She finally sat down after tucking the shirt into the pants, reaching for the pack once more, deciding that she really was feeling hungry after all.

  She was surprised when her eyes landed on something very unexpected but extremely welcome.

  “He can be surprisingly thoughtful, can’t he?”

  Grace whirled, eyes sweeping the surrounding forest for any signs of the mystery speaker. Her panicked searching slowed as Lumia drifted down to land beside her, giving her a toothy approximation of a grin.

  “Did you really have to sneak up on me like that?” Grace demanded. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you have two then,” the small lizard-creature replied.

  Grace let out an annoyed huff but tried not to allow Lumia’s intrusion to ruin her good mood. She did have to admit that the lizard was right. She hadn’t expected a man to have this kind of foresight. After all, they didn’t seem to place the same care into their hair as women did, so why would Morgan even consider packing something like a brush?

  Still, as she ran the brush through her hair, untangling all the knots and returning it to its earlier sheen, she couldn’t help remembering that it was his fault she was like this in the first place. She didn’t know why he’d worked her so hard, but seeing as his friend was here, it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

  “Why does he seem to take so much pleasure in torturing me?” she asked the small creature.

  “Morgan doesn’t derive pleasure from torturing others,” Lumia replied. “It was simple training.”

  “There was nothing simple about it!” Grace snapped, “He could have killed me!”

  “Oh, I’m sure he could have,” Lumia answered. “But he didn’t. Let me ask you this. Do you know what type of training he does?”

  Grace shrugged.

  “I don’t know. Mountain lifting?”

  “The exact same training that you just did,” Lumia said plainly.

  “Really?” Grace asked dubiously.

  She couldn’t believe that someone like Morgan could see any results from running until they puked.

  “Yes. Every morning, for two hours, he wears heavy chains and runs. When the exercise becomes too easy, he simply increases the weight and keeps going. The key to anything is consistency, so while th
is may seem like torture now, it is designed to help you grow stronger.”

  “All he’s done so far is bruise me up and make me vomit a couple of times,” Grace muttered.

  “Have a look at your status,” Lumia replied.

  Grace gave the creature an odd look. Why would she check her status? She hadn’t beaten any beasts or absorbed any energy. Still, she decided to humor the creature, if only to prove her wrong.

  Name: Grace

  Super: Rank - 3

  Energy to Next Rank - 41/700

  Mage: Rank - 0

  Energy to Next Rank - 0/100

  Super Ability - Self

  Mage Ability - Sound

  CP - 140/140 (Regen - 0.6 per second)

  MP - 140/140 (Regen - 0.6 per second)

  Strength - 16

  Agility - 8

  Constitution - 8

  Intelligence - 14

  Wisdom - 6

  Super Skills - Expand Blows, Body Shift

  Mage Skills - Air Siren, Echolocation

  Grace re-read the status several times just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

  “Both my Agility and Constitution have gone up by a point each,” she said, eyes wide. “How is that even possible?”

  “Training,” Lumia replied simply. “You may think of Morgan as no more than a handsome torturer, but believe me when I say that he has a lot to teach you.”

  “I didn’t say anything about him being handsome,” Grace muttered.

  “But you were thinking it,” Lumia shot back. “I can’t change your mind about him now, but given time, I’m sure you’ll come to understand him better.”

  “Why did you come here, anyway?” Grace shot back, quickly changing the subject.

  “Because I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to quit after the first day.”

  “I’m not,” Grace said flatly. “In fact, I’m going to make it through the whole week without complaining once!”

  “That’s quite the statement,” Lumia said, rising to her feet and spreading her wings. “That remains to be seen. As for now, I’d recommend eating up. Morgan will be back in fifteen minutes to resume your lessons, so you’d best get to it.”