The Sixth School Ch. 053

It was now a week from the day he had dinner at the Valla household. While they had gotten him to agree to go on this hunt, Greg hadn't exactly been looking forward to it. It wasn't like he was blind to what they were trying to do. To them, he was little more than a gambit they needed to secure in their bid for power. Once they had what they wanted, Greg highly doubted they would be as chummy as they were trying to pretend to be. Not to mention that, despite their best efforts to hide it, Greg could see the resentment that both Valla siblings held toward him. While their seniors saw him as a ticket to power, the two only saw him as an impediment to being with the one they wanted. All of this and Greg's disinterest in being involved in the town's politics was the reason that he'd been hoping that they'd forget the whole thing if he didn't show any interest.

Unfortunately for him, he found Niya waiting for him outside of the infirmary after his morning session with the healer. Greg was tempted to try and get out of the situation by making something up that he needed to do. He, however, had given the thought up with a sigh. If Niya was waiting for him outside the infirmary and not his home, then they'd probably been watching him and knew his schedule. Greg doubted that the concept of stalking was even a thing in this town. Not that accusing them of it would achieve anything. Each of the three families was probably doing it in some capacity along with the Town-head, there was no way he could get one of them to stop doing it and place themselves at a disadvantage. So he'd just gone along with it, heading back home in in a pretense of getting his hunting gear before they both walked out of town.

"So, what's your plan?" Greg finally broke the silence that had enveloped them since they left the town about half an hour ago. Niya wasn't that far apart from him, as such, Greg could still keep his voice low while still being heard.

Niya looked his way for a second before turning his gaze to scan the trees once more. "We each find a worthy target, kill it, and get back to town," He replied simply, in a carefully neutral tone of voice.

Greg couldn't help but smile at the unspoken challenge. In the town, what one considered to be a worthy target was a measure of the caliber of hunter that they were. By saying that they would each find a worthy target as opposed to hunting the same animal, he'd changed the nature of this outing from a joint hunt to an unspoken competition. And while he may have succeeded in keeping his voice neutral, Greg didn't miss the condescending look he sent at the longbow in his hands. The Valla scion clearly thought that he'd be able to hunt bigger game with the spear in his hands than Greg could with his longbow.

The bow in Greg's hands wasn't his soul bow. Instead, it was just a simple wooden longbow with a single enchantment that he'd bought from the Magic shop. While his soul bow was a lot more powerful than the one he was currently holding, it didn't take a lot of thinking to realize why it would be a bad idea to use that bow. To begin with, until the end of the rest period he'd been given by the healer, he was supposed to give his soul time to recuperate from three months of daily dungeon dives. Secondly, this wasn't the dungeon world, if he somehow made a serious blunder with the bow and managed to seriously harm his soul, he wouldn't wake up in his bed. The damage would be done and getting back from it would be next to, if not outright impossible. Finally, with the amount of bloodlust that the bow exuded whenever he pulled back the bowstring, it would more than likely just spook the beast he was after causing it to flee if not worse. After all, not all prey animals were docile. While most would flee from a perceived threat, some will charge down a threat when faced with one. Besides, the fact that he could summon a bow seemingly from nowhere was a hidden card that Greg didn't wish to reveal.

The enchantment on the bow was a simple aiming one. The enchantment was a lot like the one on the subtlety pants he'd bought from the Magic store when preparing to face his uncle. It didn't magically course-correct any arrow shot from it. Instead, it made Greg instinctively aware of all the things that could affect his aim and how to compensate for them. Distance, arrow drop based on the type of head it had, wind direction and speed, whether his target was moving or stationary, and so on. Any time he pulled back the bowstring of the bow, and channeled some of Olivia's mana into the bow, all this information was channeled into his mind and what to do about it. Greg was far enough along the development of his mana pathways that he could probably use his own mana for the process. Until they were fully formed, however, he was strictly forbidden by the healer from affecting the natural development process in any way through conscious channeling of his mana.

Greg had chosen this particular bow for two reasons, both of which involved shoring up his weaknesses. The first was an issue of training his body. The bow he had in hand was slightly harder to draw back than his soul bow usually was inside the dungeon. This was so he could train his arm and body the same way he'd done inside the dungeon. While he had done it enough times inside the dungeon that Greg could do the motions in his sleep, the muscle memory from his dungeon dives didn't actually transfer over to real life. The dungeons were like a virtual platform on which Greg could test and try out various strategies and fighting styles to see if they worked. Unlike having to mentally figure out a certain style in his mind, the dungeon actually gave him a body that he could use to fully feel out and explore any given style in a way that simple imagination wouldn't afford him. While the muscle memory wouldn't transfer over from the dungeon, Greg already had a pretty good idea and feel of how he should go about training to achieve what he already had inside the dungeon. The mistakes he should avoid, the tips and tricks he could employ to make shooting easier, and the optimal duration of each training session so that he didn't overtax his body. He already had this information down to a t, all that remained was to implement it and soon enough, he'd be able to shoot in real life the same way he could within the dungeons.

It had taken a few months, but eventually, it had clicked in Greg's mind that this was the true purpose of the dungeons. For the longest time, the dungeons had felt like a frivolous addition to the system that had nothing to do with the rest of the system or real life for that matter. The only exception, perhaps, is the rewards it offered. In reality, it offered him something that was just as, if not more important than the two shops. Inside the dungeon, Greg could engage in all kinds of training. Be it combat, strategic thinking, political intrigue, espionage, or even his spells once he was a mage, he could experiment with them all while inside the dungeon. Even better, it offered him real opponents that would hurt and kill him if the strategies he came up with were stupid or didn't meet the challenge they were meant for. It was a whetstone against which Greg could sharpen both his mind and fighting skill. Only once a certain strategy or fighting style was repeatedly tried and tested and found to be effective, would he then implement it in real life. Not only would this save Greg tons of time due to the dungeons' time dilation effect, but also, it would ensure that made a lot fewer mistakes in real life than he otherwise would have. Mistakes that would have otherwise cost him his life.

The other weakness that he was trying to rectify was his range. With his style of shooting, Greg could only be certain of shooting something that was within four meters of him. Outside of that range, and whether his arrow found its target or not was up in the air. With this bow, Greg hoped that he would be able to improve his aim. With a better aim, he'd be able to shoot targets much further out with greater frequency. And with this greater range, Greg would have a lot more options when taking on any kind of opponent as opposed to just getting up close and personal. Not to mention that the further out he was, the less likely the bloodthirsty aura of his soul bow would alert his target.

"I wasn't talking about the hunt," Greg clarified, drawing Niya's attention back to him. "I was talking about Bran," he added causing a brow to arch on Niya's face.

"Why would I be trying to beat Bran?" He asked guardedly.

"Well, you like Shalia don't you," Greg stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, consciously ignoring the way Niya's jaw clenched and his grip tightened around his spear. "Bran is your main competition as far as that is concerned. So, what's your plan?" he pressed.

From the look on his face, Greg could tell that Niya considered just ignoring him altogether. Still, he'd been ordered to try and get closer to him so he was compelled to reply. Prefaced by a snort, he spoke. "Beyond his muscles, I doubt Bran even remembers that the world exists," He said with clear contempt in his voice. "He's no competition to me," Niya declared haughtily. "What?" he asked in a displeased tone when he noticed the almost pitying look Greg was sending his way.

"Bran is your competition not because he likes Shalia but because Shalia likes him. Even I noticed it the day you all attended my father's send-off party," He said with a shrug. "If you don't know this, you will lose this competition without even knowing how it happened," He declared.

His words were met with silence. Greg could tell that Niya wanted to dismiss his words as nonsense. Given the fact that Shalia hadn't made any effort to hide her attraction to Bran, even he must have noticed it, making it impossible for him to deny it. "And what about you?" he asked. Unable to deny the first claim, his tone was far sharper than it previously was.

Acting like he hadn't noticed the change, Greg calmly replied. "What about me?"

"She's been seen repeatedly escorting you back and forth between your home and the infirmary. Isn't there something going on between the two of you?" He asked in a pointedly hostile tone of voice.

A laughter escaped Greg's lips as he reached up and briefly pulled off his mask to reveal his disfigured face. "Yes, my good looks and prestigious background made her swoon and forget all others to pursue me," He said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. Even Niya, who had unconsciously winced at the extent of damage to his face, had no reply to this. Pulling his mask back down, Greg continued. "Shalia has escorted me back and forth between my home and the infirmary only because, like you, she's been ordered by her parents to try and get close to me," he stated, his voice neither warm nor cold. Instead, it bore the neutrality of one who saw the reality of a situation but was just choosing to put up with it.

To his credit, there was some small measure of shame on Niya's face when Greg so directly called out what was going on. Turning his gaze away, there was a lot less venom in Niya's voice when he spoke. "You know," he more said than asked.

"Any prey animal that sees anything other than teeth when a predator smiles won't live that long," Greg calmly replied with a proverb from their town. "If you want my advice," Greg continued when Niya didn't immediately reply. "You and your sister need to work together. She likes Bran too, does she not?" he posed. Niya wordlessly nodded in affirmation. "Then you need to help her get with Bran. If he is taken, then getting Shalia to be with you should be all too easy," He laid out.

Despite his initial mistrust of Greg, Niya seemed to be considering his words, unable to find a flaw in them. A look of suspicion, however, still crossed his expression. "Why would you help me?" He asked.

"Steam escapes where it finds an opening," Greg replied cryptically. "I help you because I am not blind. I am not the one who ordered either you or your sister to try and get closer to me. If I had things my way, I wouldn't be here right now. But because neither you nor your sister has the power to defy the one who ordered you to do so, you turn that resentment toward the easier target, me," he stated. There was no accusation in his voice, instead, he spoke with the tone of one who was uttering simple facts. From the way his lips pressed together into a tight line, it was clear that Greg had hit the mark and Niya could offer no reply. "I say all that I have simply to communicate that while we may not be friends, I'm also not your enemy. If you..."

'STOP!'

Whatever else Greg was about to say, it was immediately lost when Olivia's warning resounded in his mind. The last time she had warned him with such urgency was when his cousin had come to summon him to meet his uncle. Given this, Greg had immediately complied without hesitation or delay. Unlike the first time he got this warning, however, this time Greg almost immediately saw what had caused the familiar to speak up. Niya had taken a few steps forward without him. When he noticed the sudden silence, he turned to find him frozen with a look of terror. Following his line of sight, he quickly found what Greg was looking at and like him, all the color quickly drained from Niya's face leaving him with an ashen parlor...

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