The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 115: Training

Chapter 115: Training

Fyren and I reached the predetermined rendezvous point several minutes early. He had chosen a remote grassy knoll, several miles removed from the bustling city and hidden from the view of any passersby on the roads or waterways. It was an ideal location, affording us the freedom to unleash nearly all of our abilities while concealing our true strength from prying eyes.

After a brief wait, Soltair and Trithe made their appearance, strolling hand in hand up the gentle slopes of the hills. Their contentment radiated, evident in their gentle smiles and the affectionate looks they gave each other. Trithe moved with a light and confident step, and the profound, intimate gazes she and Soltair shared could have made even the most seasoned romantic blush.

"Apologies for our tardiness," Soltair offered, giving Trithe’s hand a tender squeeze.

Fyren rolled his eyes, his sword resting on his shoulder, its blade bare. However, after admonishing them with a stern frown, he let go of his weapon and began a lecture. "The primary issue within our party is a deficiency in coordinated teamwork. True group combat necessitates an innate comprehension of each other’s fighting styles, a connection forged through countless hours of training and camaraderie. While diverting an adversary’s attention between the two of you can be a useful tactic, genuine mastery melds separate attacks into a single, devastating assault. A strike from Soltair should set the opponent up for Trithe’s blade, or a spell from Xiviyah should create an opening for a more potent counterattack."

Trithe nodded thoughtfully, her lips pursed in contemplation. "Much like how I wield my two swords. While they move independently, every motion contributes to a larger strategy, breaching defenses and maneuvering the opponent into a disadvantaged position."

"Somewhat, yes, but the advantages of teamwork far surpass those of a blade. Only by transforming our party into a unified fighting force can we effectively confront the demon lords we are destined to encounter."

"That sounds incredibly complicated," Soltair remarked, furrowing his brow. "I can’t be expected to memorize all of Xiviyah’s spells, right?"

"Why wouldn’t you? Each flash of light or glimmer of magic can provide cover for a feint or tactical maneuver," Fyren responded sternly. "However, to address your concern, not initially. Let’s concentrate on our movements first. What role does positioning play in battle?"

Trithe raised her hand. "It’s simple. Closing the gap with your opponent can force them on the defensive, while creating distance allows for more potent techniques. Long strides expose vulnerabilities, whereas utilizing cover can tip the scales in your favor."

Fyren nodded in approval. "Now envision our party as a single entity. When Soltair takes a step forward, the enemy is likely to retreat. A seasoned ally will recognize this and will act according to that prediction, catching their foe unprepared."

Soltair and Trithe exchanged glances, their faces alight with newfound insight. "I see," the Sun Hero mused, rubbing his chin. "So, how do you propose we practice this?"

"For now, let’s keep it straightforward. You two already work reasonably well together, so let’s focus on that. I’ll take on the role of the adversary, allowing you to engage as a team. However, restrict yourselves to spells and techniques no higher than the fourth level. The objective isn’t to overpower me but to grasp the fundamentals of group combat. Understand?"

They both nodded in agreement, and I raised a tentative hand. "And what about me?"

"I’d like you to observe, Xiviyah. Your combat sense is essentially nonexistent at this point, and trying to participate would only complicate matters. Additionally, given your physical limitations, you can’t handle the pace of high-level combat. On another note, could you cast your protective spells on us? Our training is bound to be intense, and I have no intention of halting to tend to injuries every time someone slips up."

"Oh. Of course," I sighed softly. Though his response was harsh, it was not unexpected. Such was the nature of my existence, and it wasn’t a personal affront. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but feel disheartened. Was I destined to lag behind as our battles escalated? The Curse Demon almost ripped our party apart because of my vulnerability, and it was only because of luck that we came out on top.

As the three of them assumed their positions, I cast a series of protective spells and took a step back. As they began to spar, it became evident that Fyren’s advice was on the mark. They held back, limiting themselves to spells and techniques no higher than the fourth level, yet the speed of their physical movements and skill left me feeling disoriented. Once I had internalized the basic tactics they employed, I turned my attention to my spellbooks.

My Regenerate spell had reached the point where further progress was impossible without actual patients. So, my tail shivering in anticipation, I opened the sixth-circle spellbook I had acquired. It was a miracle Viriden contained a Fate Spell of that power, much less one that I found incredibly useful. The spell bore the name "Nexus" and embodied the principles exhibited by Link Ability and Link Soul. Instead of connecting individuals, it linked entire groups of people, enabling them to share abilities and spell effects. Since it was a sixth-circle spell, there were limitations on the magnitude of effects that could be shared—nothing beyond the fifth circle could be accommodated, or the spell would collapse.

Sixth-circle spells stood as the threshold to true power, drawing a line that only the most accomplished mages or priests could cross. They often imposed a substantial burden on one’s soul, but my mana was more than sufficient for now. As I began to memorize the intricate runes and magic circles, I was struck by the profound complexity of the spell, far surpassing even the intricacies of Regenerate. Had it not been for my intimate familiarity with Fate magic, I would have found it impossible to decipher the multitude of runes without comprehensive reference materials, such as a rune dictionary. Before I even turned the first page, I finally understood why it took the average mage several months to master even the most basic sixth-circle spells.

But I was far from an average mage. By the time Fyren’s training session concluded, I had a reasonable degree of confidence in my ability to craft the first few magic circles. It bore similarities to Link Ability, a spell I had personally created from the ruined remnants of Link Soul, which provided me with a solid foundation. Coupled with my exceptional aptitude for Fate Magic, I progressed through the intricacies of the Nexus spell relatively smoothly.

I glanced up as Soltair and Trithe plopped onto the ground beside me. Despite their incomprehensible fortitude, they were sweaty and panting, their limbs shaking with exhaustion. Fyren stood over us, leaning on his sword yet appearing no worse for the wear. He absently stroked his chin for a moment before saying anything.

"You did well today. Another week of this, and I won’t wince every time you step onto the battlefield. Xiviyah, did you gain any insights?"

My cheeks reddened as I remembered I had been expected to watch. "Well, um, I couldn’t quite keep up. I did manage to memorize the tactics, but..."

He chuckled as I looked away in embarrassment, bending over to place a hand on my uninjured shoulder. "Don’t worry, I understand. But we’ll rely on you to coordinate our party. Leading in the heat of battle is challenging, which makes you an ideal candidate for the role."

"Leading? I’m not sure I can..."

"No, he’s right," Soltair interjected, finally catching his breath. "While party leadership belongs to me, it was your efforts that enabled our last victory. With your support spells, you can provide assistance where it’s needed and direct the flow of the battle. Against the more powerful demons, I can barely focus on my own combat, let alone ensure the safety of the rest of our party."

"Yeah, it’s probably for the best. No one else can predict their spells and abilities. Just promise not to get me killed," Trithe added, her tone somewhat sharp. Her eyes briefly flashed with jealousy, as though she wanted Soltair to rely solely on her, but her agreement bolstered my confidence.

Releasing a long sigh, I reluctantly accepted. "I don’t know anything about war, but I’m willing to learn. It’s not like I can refuse, anyway."

I placed a hand on my chest, sensing the warm pulsation of the slave crest. The movement made Soltair’s expression tense.

"You’re more prepared than you realize," Fyren commented suddenly. "Your instinctual understanding of the battlefield is among the best I’ve witnessed. Even in our last battle, you displayed remarkable composure under pressure and constantly worked to disrupt our opponents’ objectives. Given your limited experience, one would expect you to cower at the slightest opposition, yet you stood your ground against the most formidable demon to descend in over a century."

I pondered his words for a moment. As terrifying as the demons were, they paled in comparison to the horrors I had endured at the hands of men, both in this world and my previous one. The demons sought only to kill, not to torture, rape, or shatter my spirit. I had already experienced death once, so what was there left to fear?

"I’ll do my best."

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