The Sixth School Ch. 045

Author's note.

1). Feedback from my readers is my fuel to keep writing. If you enjoy my work, please take the time to let me know in the comments. It does wonders for my motivation to write. Without it, my pacing usually suffers a lot.

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All Characters in the story are 18 years of age and above...

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Chapter Forty Five: Table With No Guile...

"Fuck!" Greg couldn't help but mutter even as he rose from his bed. A night of sleep had done nothing to assuage his annoyance at the merchant for becoming his undoing. Just because he'd gotten a supposed mage as his bodyguard, the man had gotten it in his head that he could strong-arm the head of a criminal gang into doing his bidding. The Spider queen hid her features behind a black veil and loose robes whose long sleeves hid even her hands. From her ramrod-straight posture and steely tone of voice, however, Greg could tell that she was a woman who wasn't easily bent to the whims of others.

The meeting went about as expected. Everyone ended up dead!

Greg managed to kill the woman and the six members of the spider gang that stood guard over her. By the time the last man fell, however, Greg had sustained fatal injuries. Apart from profusely bleeding from a few nasty wounds, Greg also had one of their kukri-like blades sticking out of his gut. Greg would have killed the merchant himself if he wasn't lying in a puddle of his own blood. When shit had gone down, Greg had prioritized saving his own life and left the man to bear the consequences of the shit he'd stirred. His guts were spilled on the floor as a result of being stabbed several times.

Spitting on the dead merchant's face, Greg resolved to kill the man immediately on his next dungeon dive. Knowing that there was no way he'd come out of the spider gang den alive, Greg had spent the last moment staggering over to where the spider queen was seated. The woman was still seated upright in her seat. An arrow had sunk between her eyes and come out the back of her skull and into the chair. It was this arrow that kept her dead body from slumping forward. Gritting his teeth, Greg had pulled the blade from his gut. Greg would have been able to simply pull off the veil if not for the arrow that pinned it to her face. Hissing with pain, Greg had forced himself to remain focused even as he reached up and cut away the veil from her face.

Bright blood-red hair, aquamarine blue eyes, a small button nose, and luscious pink lips that seemed to be permanently set in a scowl. Greg was surprised at just how young the woman appeared to be. He had expected to find someone in their late thirties if not early forties at the head of such a gang. The woman, however, seemed to be in her mid-twenties from what Greg could tell. Greg didn't know what to make of this new bit of info. Whether it would come in handy in the future or not was unknown. He, however, didn't have long to think about it as he soon thereafter fell over and passed out from blood loss.

Ten minutes after waking up, Greg stepped out of his house. One of the perks of having a magical familiar was that bodily grooming could be done in a little under five minutes. And even that was only because they were going at a sedate pace. If Olivia wanted to, she could have him go through the whole process in under a minute. Standing just outside his house just as she had been for two months was Shalia. Whatever else one could say about the girl, no one could say that the girl wasn't diligent once given a task.

"Good Morning Roka," Shalia greeted him with a smile. Over time, the smile on the girl's face had gone from completely fake to one that was supposed to be but wasn't. Greg could see in her eyes that the girl was conflicted as to how she should feel about him. On the one hand, she wanted to dislike him. On the other, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And Greg knew why. Even without opening his system, Greg knew that the INTERMEDIATE mission of turning the girl on was already marked as complete. Three weeks. That's how long it had taken for the AROUSING title to grind down her resistance to nothing. Every time they met from that point onwards, the mission requiring him to turn her on would be marked as complete within the first minute of their meeting.

Greg, however, had to admit that he'd been a bit too simplistic in his expectations of what would happen once one was in the thrall of his title. Greg had expected that once the title had taken effect, the girl would throw herself at him. Now, a month later, if not for the fact that the system alerted him the moment she was turned on, Greg would have thought that the title didn't work on her. She had done an admirable job of hiding what was going on with her behind a stoic mask of indifference.

"Good morning, Shalia," Greg greeted with a warm smile, his steps never pausing as he started towards the infirmary. This time, it was Greg who spoke up first as he asked. "When can I expect your mother?" he asked.

"After we return from the infirmary, I will go inform her that she can visit," Shalia replied calmly. Greg nodded in acknowledgment before going silent and focusing on the path ahead. This would have been the end of their conversation if Shalia hadn't followed up with a question of her own. "So, what's your plan?" She asked.

Greg turned to her, his eyes communicating his incomprehension. "Why would I need one?" He asked.

"Because my mother tells my father everything!" The girl replied, a note of exasperation in her voice. Greg would have admonished her for it but he could tell that it was more directed at her mother and not Greg so he let it slide. "If she finds that you haven't been giving me any work to do, she'll tell my father and when he finds out he'll either find something else to punish me with or extend my punishment!" She said.

"Oh, is that all?" Greg asked in a calm tone.

"What do you mean is that all!?" Shalia shot back. "I'm not looking to be punished any further than I already have!"

"Well, the solution is simple, is it not? For this one day, at least while your mother is around, you shall be my servant," Greg proposed without missing a beat.

Greg had expected any number of reactions from the girl, ranging from simple protestations to actual rage at the idea. What he hadn't expected was for a blush to spread over her features turning her red as a rose. There was a long silence in which she seemed to be struggling with herself. "O... okay. I'll... I'll serve you... but just this once!" The girl stammered and stumbled over her words as she finally came to a decision. There was a weak attempt at the end to act like she was still in control, but Greg could see right through it. Who'd have thought that the stuck-up Shalia had a submissive streak to her? Depending on how he played his cards, the mother and daughter might just end up caught in his web.

They were silent for the rest of the trip to the infirmary. Greg left Shalia waiting at the entrance to the infirmary as he walked inside. Before long, Greg had teleported over to the healer's secret abode. Unsurprisingly, he found the healer standing behind one of her workstations studying a network of glowing blue lines inside a glass orb. A black quill was floating on its own over a piece of parchment, gliding along as it took down the words that she muttered to herself. Greg was quiet as he watched her work.

Greg didn't greet the healer out loud, he had already made that mistake once before. The Quill she was using is a tier one item that can't distinguish which voices to record and which to ignore. If Greg greeted his teacher, his greeting would be recorded among her notes. Not the end of the world, but an annoying inconvenience. There are low-grade tier-two versions of the quill that can distinguish between voices and only respond to one particular voice. There are even tier-three versions that respond to and can write at the speed of thought. Greg had been tempted to get one of these for her, but in the end, hadn't. The healer wasn't foolish. Repeatedly saying that 'my familiar gave it to me', wouldn't fly with her. It was better to play it safe rather than to unintentionally expose his system.

Luckily for him, the healer didn't keep him waiting for long. After another minute of taking down notes, She stepped away from the workstation, allowing the quill to sink back into its inkpot. "Good morning Roka," Came the warm Greeting from her.

Returning her smile, Greg answered "Good morning teacher. Anything interesting in the orb?" he asked glancing at the clear glass orb that now lay inert on the workstation the healer had just stepped away from. Greg had been put through the wringer while learning under the healer. The amount of information he should imbibe and remember, the level of meticulousness expected of him, the amount of both inductive and deductive reasoning he was expected to employ, and above all the exactitude in all his work that he was expected to display in all that he did. It was enough so that someone might be tempted to think that the healer was being overly hard on him. Greg, however, had gotten the chance to watch the healer work. The fact that the woman demanded even more of herself in all these areas made it impossible for him to claim that she was being too hard or expecting too much of him.

The glass orb was part of the meticulousness of the healer's study. At the end of every day, Greg would be asked to hold it for a minute. A warm feeling would flow from the orb and course through his whole body in three-second pulses. In the first month of doing this, Greg hadn't been able to tell what it was doing. It was only when his mana pathways slowly began taking shape that he understood what it was for. The healer had not only been monitoring the changes in his body every day, she had been meticulously noting every detail that she could. Every little change that happened was not only recorded but analyzed to a degree that even Greg would never have thought possible. The woman was exacting in her work to an almost OCD level.

"Not much to report really. If we stay the course, you should be the equivalent of a tier one mage in another three to four months," She replied.

There was a slight pause from the healer and Greg could tell that there was something else that she was debating whether to reveal or not. "What is it?" Greg asked.

"An issue that I did not foresee and I'm unsure how to resolve," She replied with a glance at the inert glass orb.

"What is it?" Greg repeated his question.

"While your mana pathways are coming along extraordinarily well, I can't see any signs of a mana core forming within you," She stated, the fact that she was stumped clear to be seen on her face. "It's such an obvious issue that I can't understand how I missed it. Of course, channeling mana through you would cause mana pathways to form as the mana finds the easiest pattern it can follow through your body. How did I miss the fact that it wouldn't clump up in one place and form a core on its own," The healer thought out loud, sounding a bit distressed at what she considered to be a serious flaw.

"It's easy to miss what is at the foot of the mountain when focusing on the peak. Perhaps it's precisely because it seems so obvious that you failed to notice it. You were so caught up in figuring out all the complicated ways that things could go wrong that you missed a simple one," He offered, his mind going back to all the flaws that she had noticed in her theory. Over the months of working with the healer, Greg had come to learn that she preferred a straight-up critic over flattery where one was deserved. "However, I don't necessarily think that this is a flaw," He went on to add drawing the healer's curious gaze. "You are not trying to recreate the closed loop mana core and pathways system. This is a new system of magic you've created teacher. It's to be expected that there will be drastic differences between this new system and the old one. For now, let's just watch how things develop," He reassured.

The reason Greg wasn't as bothered by this new development as the healer seemed to be was twofold. The first was the dungeons. One of the rules of the dungeon was that Greg could only carry over innate abilities. For the past one and a half months, after his mana pathways started to take shape, Greg had been able to perform the most rudimentary of magic. That is to say, whatever this new system of magic was, the dungeon seemed to recognize it as a legitimate one capable of both storing and manipulating mana. The other reason was the fact that it was Olivia's original that had worked on and refined the healer's idea. Olivia may claim that she doesn't know much about cores and mana pathways since she's always been above the nine tiers. Greg, however, didn't for one-second think that the same was true of her original. Even if she never had one herself, there was no doubt in Greg's mind that the primordial knew a lot about cores and mana pathways. Chances that she would make the same mistake that the healer did were abysmally low. If she didn't point out any issues with this approach it's because she too saw it as a working system even with the absence of a mana core.

The healer's lips pressed together into a thin line as she considered his words. "Perhaps you are right. Let's at least wait until you are the equivalent of a first-tier mage before we draw any conclusions," She offered with a sigh before turning in the direction of the sigil. "Let's begin," She instructed, already in motion. Both of them moved with purpose, the process already having become routine for them. So much so that before either one of them knew it, Greg was already sitting in the middle of the sigil calmly, his body overflowing with mana that the healer had channeled into it. This time, there were no screams of pain from Greg. He had gone through the process so many times that he'd grown inured to the pain. All in all, the process took about twenty minutes. Five for the talk before they began. Ten for the mana infusion, and five for Greg to allow the initial pain of being pumped full of mana to abate.

Greg opened his eyes to find a stern expression on the healer's face as she regarded him. "I gave you the coming days off as a means to relax and rejuvenate yourself. Whatever it is you do nightly that leaves you looking so drained, I expect it to stop for the period you have off. Otherwise, there is little point to the break," She admonished.

Greg had gotten so used and grown numb to the drain the dungeon took on him that he hadn't even noticed the fatigue he felt from the previous night's foray into the dungeon. For a second, Greg was tempted to just lie and say he wouldn't. After so many failures and a month and a half of training, he had finally gotten a strategy that he was almost certain would work. Not to mention his desire to enact some sort of punishment on Sir Joram for fucking up his previous run. To be asked to press pause right as he was on the cusp of victory was frustrating. Olivia, however, reinforced the healer's point by reminding him.

'The dungeons aren't going anywhere, master. And even if you managed to beat it tonight, it's not like you'd have exhausted everything within the dungeon, you'd just be back at it again tomorrow,' she pointed out. 'Besides, I think it's time you gave your soul a break and allow it to digest the gains it's made in this period,' She advised.

'What gains?" Greg asked, his confusion evident in his mental voice.

'Think of it in the same way you'd think of a physical exercise routine. You've been pushing your soul beyond its limits for the past three months straight without any breaks. While the soul is a lot harder to train than the physical body, it too needs a break every now and then for it to recuperate and digest the gains it's made in that period. A few day's break will do you a lot of good," She relayed.

Greg couldn't help his elation at the unexpected boon. He had been diving into the dungeon daily. Not just because of the small boons he got with each poor performance or the fact that it gave him an extra fifteen or so hours every day, but also because Greg genuinely enjoyed the challenge. Not to mention that the dungeons allowed Greg to make and learn from mistakes that would have otherwise been fatal in the real world. It hadn't occurred to Greg that by repeatedly straining his soul with the dives, he was in a sense training it. How much would three months of training grant him? Greg didn't know but it would be a boon all the same. With a sigh, Greg nodded both to the healer and in acquiescence to the familiar's advice. "Okay, I'll take a break," He agreed.

A smile crossed the healer's face as she rose to her feet once more. "Good, I'll see you at midday," She stated as she moved back towards her workstation...

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Greg was back inside his room. With a devious smile playing on his lips, he was pulling on the SEXUAL INTENT pants. Arrayed on the bed before him, were all the title items he had. The mask, the pendant, the two bangles, and the three rings. Shalia had gone to inform her mother that she was free to visit now. Greg wasn't in a hurry. He expected them to take an hour or so. Even in this world without makeup and complicated clothing, women still found a way to take forever to get ready. Greg had also informed his mother and sister of the expected guests. The two were now busy trying to prepare for the guests. His mother was in the kitchen trying to prepare something for the guests meanwhile Tayani, was preparing the room where they'd receive the guests.

'Any purchases that you think might make this day even more interesting?' Greg mentally asked Olivia.

'Plenty,' came the reply. 'But for today, just this one item and some advice will suffice," She stated.

Greg looked at the prompt that appeared before him and couldn't help but smile devilishly. 'Subtle yet deadly," Greg couldn't help but mentally say.

"Indeed," The familiar replied. "The advice is concerning the DISCERNING ring. You have been using it only to sense whether someone is turned on or not when it can do so much more...

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Shalia did her best to sit calmly inside the carriage as it moved towards that damnable boy's house. It was the height of irony, arriving at his house in such luxury just to be his servant! Shalia couldn't help but glance down at the beautiful dress that her mother had practically forced her to put on. She never left the house looking bad, but this... this was a step too far! To be dressed like a princess only to go serve a commoner! And yet, Shalia had to press her legs together, afraid that her arousal would cause a large wet spot to form on the back of the dress she had on. For the life of her, Shalia couldn't explain how it was the boy got his hooks so deep in her.

Looking over to her side, Shalia couldn't help the slight exasperation she felt with her mother. Shalia knew that it wasn't her fault, her father wouldn't let his wife walk and had insisted on having her ferried over in the carriage. All the same, however, the carriage would call attention to the two of them from more people than if they had walked over. Her mother, however, didn't seem at all bothered. If anything, there was a small smile playing on her lips, her hand idly rubbing circles on her belly as she looked out through the carriage window. Shalia couldn't shake the feeling that her mother was looking forward to this meeting even more than she was.

Luckily for Shalia, the distance from her home to Roka's wasn't that long, and the carriage made it even shorter. The carriage driver, one of her father's servants, jumped down from the driver's seat and quickly moved over to her mother's side of the carriage before pulling the door open for her. After her mother had both feet down on the ground, the man came around to her side and did the same. His father had tried to get them to also have a guard along to ensure their safety. Her mother, however, had rightly pointed out that he was being ridiculous and wouldn't hear anything of it.