From Moving Crates to Killing Gods-Chapter 66: Zen Allaran

After pushing my body to its limit with one hundred and twenty laps, I found myself drawn back to the library the next morning.

I was seeking the next challenge to conquer. The satisfaction of mastering Quickstep was great, but time wasn’t on my side. Eight months remained until the next group of orphans faced exile, eight months to become strong enough. The pages fell open to the next two spells, and I read the intricate patterns that awaited me.

Two options presented themselves. Mend and Sense. I studied the descriptions carefully, my eyes taking in every detail as if the words themselves might vanish if I blinked for too long.

Mend seemed to be a restorative spell that enhances natural recovery processes. It accelerates healing of minor wounds, reduces muscle fatigue, and restores stamina. But it won’t create flesh out of nowhere if I lose an arm or something similar.

Sense was a detection spell that extends awareness beyond sight. It reveals presences within a limited radius, with intensity varying based on proximity and intent. It would be effective for detecting threats beyond the barrier.

Both had their merits. Sense would be invaluable in the wasteland, giving me advanced warning of approaching Corruptors. I could imagine using it to hunt them, to turn the tables on creatures that had preyed on us for generations. The thought had a certain vengeful appeal, they would need to start hiding from me.

But Mend... Mend would transform my training. Recovery time was my greatest limitation now. Each session left me drained, requiring hours or sometimes days before I could push myself to the same intensity again. If I could accelerate that recovery, I would be able to train harder, more frequently. And progress faster.

I closed my eyes, picturing the days left before the exile happened. Eight months. Less than a year to prepare for the moment when another batch of people would be thrown to the wasteland to try their luck and new abilities against the Corruptors.

"Sense would be a really useful tool." I murmured to the empty library. "But Mend will allow me to get stronger."

The decision crystallized. I would learn Mend first. Practical, focused on maximizing my development in the limited time I had. Just like every choice I’d made since returning from exile.

I turned to the detailed visualization of scrabbles and lines for Mend and felt my confidence falter. The pattern was unlike anything I’d seen before. Where Pulse had been a single sphere with relatively simple internal structures, and Quickstep had been three spheres in complex harmony, Mend was... different. A single sphere like Pulse, but filled with extraordinarily intricate details, hundreds of lines, rotating figures, and flowing currents that seemed to shift even as I stared at them on the static page.

"What the hell?" I whispered, leaning so close my nose nearly touched the paper. The diagram’s complexity was daunting. Even with Intelligence at level 10, I could barely track all the components simultaneously.

I decided to try something new and started copying the basic structure into a notebook, trying to break down the pattern into manageable sections. Two hours later, I’d filled three pages with detailed sketches and I still felt like I’d understood barely a fraction of what I needed to understand.

This wasn’t going to be like Quickstep. That spell had been difficult, yes, but its complexity came from the interaction of three distinct components. Mend’s difficulty lay in its sheer density, a single overwhelming structure that required perfect visualization down to the smallest element.

I closed the notebook and headed back to my quarters. I needed a plan, a more methodical approach. If I tried learning this pattern the same way I’d approached Quickstep, trying to grasp everything at once, I’d drive myself insane.

Over the next week, I established a new routine. I’d wake before dawn, spend two hours attempting to visualize larger sections of the Mend pattern, then hit the training room when mental fatigue set in. Physical exertion became a relief from the mental strain of spell visualization, letting my mind rest while my body worked.

After physical training, I’d return to my quarters, eat until my stomach felt ready to burst, then I would take a hot shower to remove the rancid smell of my sweat from my skin, and then proceed to throw myself into the bed and forget the fact that I existed.

Phinyx noticed the change in my approach during our running sessions.

"Your vibe changes constantly man." he remarked one day after I’d completed my sixtieth lap. "More... methodical. Less crazy than before."

"Learning from past mistakes." I replied, wiping sweat from my brow. "Slow and steady progress beats rapid burnout..."

"Very zen of you." He grinned. "Maybe you should try meditation too."

I chuckled. "Don’t get excited. I’m still aiming for a new record today."

"And there’s the Allaran I know." His hands made that familiar pushing motion. "Endurance vibe, second wind vibe."

The months blurred together as I settled into this punishing but rewarding routine. Visualization. Training. Eating. More visualization. More training. Sleep. Repeat. Some days I felt like I was making progress with the Mend pattern, other days I wanted to throw the book across the room in frustration.

Three months in, something changed. I was sitting cross legged on my bed, eyes closed, attempting for the thousandth time to hold the complete pattern in my mind. As usual, I started with the core structure, then began adding layers of detail outward, like building a puzzle from the center. The mental construct faltered, sections started fading as I tried to maintain others, the typical failure pattern I’d grown accustomed to.

But this time, just as I felt the visualization slipping away, something clicked. A hidden rhythm revealed itself, the pattern wasn’t static but pulsing with subtle beats, the sections not separate but flowing into one another like currents in a stream. The revelation was so sudden, so complete, that I gasped aloud.

Somehow now I knew how to get it done.