“How is the training of your partners progressing?” Maltos asked. It was the usual question, presented at the end of every week. It was the third time he had asked it. “Mai tells me she has started training Reysha in Weapon Arts.”

“Yes,” was Apexus’ typically short answer. The slime’s mood was somewhat strained. It was well in the afternoon and he still hadn’t eaten today. The fasting hours grew longer with each day. Working on a diminishing nucleus early in the day got progressively easier. Yet, each new hour added was a new, harder test than the last.

“Keep speaking, Apexus,” the old Monk demanded, his tone friendly and firm. “Tell me how their training is progressing.” He turned back from his small kitchen and placed a pot in the middle of the kotatsu. The two of them were alone in Maltos’ small apartment.

“Reysha is making slow progress. She says she managed to fill up a Runeblade and is now working on replicating the Skill in her body. Although she can do that already, it takes her so long that it’s impractical for combat,” Apexus listed everything he recalled.

“And Aclysia?” Maltos asked and lifted the lid from the pot. A wave of delicious fragrance filled the air. As much as the slime preferred raw meat, the stew before him still made his membrane thin in anticipation of a meal. Maltos filled two bowls. The stew was thin, a few pieces of meat and vegetables swimming in the salty water. Both servings remained in front of the Monk.

“She’s still contemplating why Smiting is easiest from the sky,” Apexus responded. “Otherwise, she’s trying to get in the mindset for a Miracle.”

“I see,” Maltos nodded and pushed the bowl over to Apexus.

Little as there was to the soup, the slime was tempted to unhinge his jaw and pour the entirety of the content of the bowl down his throat. The food’s presence was not the same as a pass to eat it. Until it was cold, Apexus was not to touch it. Having a nose this sensitive was a terror in a situation like this.

Maltos witnessed his student’s plight and gave the same advice as always. “Find your centre.”

Closing his eyes, Apexus tried to do just that. It had been among the first things he had been taught. Meditation brought him to a state where the outside world was shut out and only the inner turmoil mattered. Identifying the source of his immediate worries, the slime took ownership of it and smoothed it over through will alone, like one would smoothen the surface of sand by sliding their palm over it.

The spirit came to a rest, no longer pulled into any random direction by unwanted thoughts. It was entirely on Apexus to take control of his mind and balance it between his urges. Monkhood wasn’t about undoing all urges altogether. Following that path to its end would lead to uncaring starvation. A true Monk knew and accepted their desires, but didn’t let them control their actions.

Apexus found his centre.

He reopened his eyes and looked at the bowl. It had cooled enough that there was no more steam rising from the still surface. With his sight, the other senses returned to the forefront. Immediately, the physical world compromised his balanced mental state. The urges of his instincts nudged him to action. They failed to take over.

Apexus remained closer to centered than he was before.

“Good,” Maltos said, nodding happily at his pupil’s success. “Do you know why I take an interest in the progress of your peers?”

“To have something to talk about?” Apexus responded, completely serious.

His teacher laughed regardless. “Ha! No, it is because I must consider carefully how to continue once your mental training is complete.” Maltos stirred his stew with a wooden spoon. “Usually it would be interspersed with the Martial Arts and Skills of the Monk Class. There is much to learn as well. Monks utilize all three major categories, joints, muscles and bones, in their Inner Body Skills. Our Martial Arts are more complicated than most. Too complicated for most of us to consider the Weapon Arts Reysha is currently training in. Usually, I would send you to Pronthin for some supplementary Priest teachings.”

“Is that necessary?” Apexus asked.

“The disciplined mindset we strive to have lends itself to worship of certain gods. Further, it fits our combat role as generalists well to have access to some magic,” Maltos slurped a little bit of the hot soup off the spoon. “But no, it is not necessary. A lot of Monks concentrate solely on Martial Arts.” The old Monk let out a tiny sigh. “I cannot teach you any of those either, for the time being.”

The reason for that was not any unwillingness on Maltos’ part. Apexus’ lack of magical cortex made it simply impossible to teach him. While it was the case that the humanoid slime could direct the magic within him even without the additional organ most sapient races of the Omniverse had, how that magic could be directed was not something the Monk could give any instructions in. A fish couldn’t teach a human how to swim. Their shapes were simply too different.

Even after the magical cortex was acquired, it remained to be seen if Apexus could be taught in the traditional ways. Joint and bone Inner Body Skills were not a worry, since the skeleton the slime had permanently Grown was that of a human. The semi-liquid muscles of a fellow slime monster, however, may prove to be a different story.

“One step after the other,” Maltos said, unworried about the developments. “For now, eat.”

Apexus strained to remain civilized at the sound of those words. With the spoon, he shovelled the bits of solid food in the stew into his mouth, retaining only a minimum of grace. The water followed in three large gulps. When he was done, Apexus looked at the empty bowl with a mixture of thankfulness and disdain.

“You won’t eat for the next three days,” Maltos announced, snapping Apexus out of his thoughts.

“What?!” the humanoid slime raised his eyes and voice. The entirety of his instincts revolted against the thought. After two seconds, he managed to wrestle control back. “I apologize,” he said and lowered his head.

“You took it relatively well,” Maltos gave a small compliment, while pouring himself a cup of tea. “The fasting will conclude after you have proven sovereignty over your hunger. All initiates come to the temple with something that controls them. It just so happens that the urge that controls you is incredibly pronounced. In some ways, this makes it easier, in others harder.”

Apexus looked down at his hands and considered the full impact of the time without nourishment. The last proper meal he had eaten, had been yesterday evening. Including today, he would have a full four days without proper food. Three days on the boat had him considering Reysha as his next meal.

“Find your centre.”

Eyes closed, the humanoid slime gave himself to the calm. The hands holding the edge of the table relaxed. The legs ready to jump up relaxed. The jaw grinding in search of food relaxed. The spirit yearning for taste relaxed. The mind was set into balance.

Eyes opened, the humanoid slime kept hold of the calm. “What do we do in the meantime?” he asked. It would have been atypical of Maltos to leave his pupil unoccupied, even while he was starving.

“After tomorrow, you stay in the temple, where I can have eyes on you,” Maltos revealed. “Until then, we handle something different. Tell me, what is a medium-sized problem you want to solve?”

In Maltos’ temple, everyone was taught to be as aware of their problems as possible. Not just aware in the ‘know that you are flawed’ sense, but distinctly and definitively aware of one’s problems. A vague sense of negativity wasn’t good enough. Everything had to be narrowed down to something clearly outlined. Only an issue that was named, so said Maltos, could be truly understood. Once a problem was understood, it could be solved.

This was a part of monkhood that Apexus naturally aligned with. It lay in his nature to think of the world as a set of problems and figure out many ways to solve them. Pairing this with his habit of keenly observing his surroundings and to consider options before taking a decision, he had essentially lived by the code before he had even heard it.

“We have a leaky roof,” the slime responded quickly.

“That does sound like a bothersome issue,” Maltos nodded and finished his tea. Immediately after, he rose to his feet. “Then let us fix that.”

As much as Monks contemplated their decisions, it was also key that they acted swiftly once they had arrived somewhere. This mixture of deliberate planning and rapid enactment, as well as emergency improvisation, also spoke to Apexus. After three weeks, there was no doubt to be had that the humanoid slime had a natural inclination for this path.

The two of them headed out, walking to the city on their bare feet. Following Maltos around was interesting. Wherever in the sprawled out city they went, people recognized him and offered him free food or other tokens of their appreciation. Everyone loved him or had heard of him. Maltos turned most of it down, only accepting a bag of a new variant of tea leaves, added to the one he was already buying.

From there, they headed to a local farmer. “You can just take it for free,” the farmer said, when asked whether he had any thatching material to offer. Piles of straw were lying around, scattered across the field.

“Are you certain?” Maltos asked, his bag of coins at the ready. “I’m not wanting for money.”

“Neither am I, you old worrywart,” the farmer laughed and waved off. Like most of the Teacher’s Isles’ permanent residents, he was a retired adventurer – a druid at that. “I grow all of my own food here, the only time I have to spend is when my children need new clothes.”

“If you’re truly certain…?” the old Monk weighed his purse in his hand visibly.

“I’d just mulch it if you didn’t come around.”

Maltos hummed and stroked his long white beard. The eyes in the wrinkly face of the old Monk scanned the surroundings. “Perhaps you could rent us that cart?” he suggested and pointed at a wooden cart next to the farm’s barn. It was visibly a hold-over, standing next to a newer, larger version of itself. Despite that it had been kept in good condition. “Along with some thatching equipment, if that is alright with you.”

The farmer sighed and let himself be paid. “I can’t give you anything to draw the cart though.”

“That will be alright,” Maltos waved off and turned to Apexus. “It is your roof after all.”

“Shouldn’t I pay, then?” the humanoid slime asked.

“Consider the money an apology for the coming days,” the old Monk reasoned.

The humanoid slime didn’t attempt to argue with his teacher. A gift was given and any attempt to dissuade Maltos would have Apexus begrudgingly accept, just like the farmer did. While the retired druid went inside, Apexus asked a different question, “Why did you insist on paying him?”

Maltos bound his purse to the belt of his simple robe. “A great many reasons,” he responded. “The most important one is that I have no reason to keep my wealth. I have no child to clothe…” The old man’s eyes turned distant, as he gazed towards the setting sun. “…anymore.”

They stood there and waited. Apexus wondered if he should ask what his teacher meant by that. It felt inappropriate to pry. Similarly, Maltos wondered how much he wanted to divulge. Before either of them could come to a conclusion, the druid came back out with a small box full of thatching tools. “Here you go. Just bring them back when you can,” he said, placing the tools in the cart. Crying from inside the house made the man hurry back inside. “Take as much straw as you need!”

With that guarantee, Apexus started piling straw into the cart. Maltos acted the old man and stood aside, keeping watch from his seat on a tree stump. Once they had as much as could reasonably be carried, they started moving. Although the cart was designed to be drawn by an ox or other bovine, putting a handlebar across the front allowed any humanoid to push the thing along. Thanks to Apexus’ height and power, he managed to get it moving relatively easily. The wheels dug into the fertile, damp soil. Teacher and straw sat at the back, the student worked.

Their way was far, over two hours. Maltos passed the time by retelling some stories of his career as an adventurer. “Do you know what happens when a Parasyte Infestation is left unchecked?” Maltos asked.

“It grows?” the humanoid slime took an educated guess.

“Correct, but a bit too simple,” the teacher responded patiently. “Try again.”

Apexus considered what he knew about Parasytes. The tiny, tic-like creatures existed all over the Omniverse’s Branches, on a tireless search for magic. They were drawn to any obvious source, hence why using magic outside of Leaves was an incredible danger. Any Parasyte in the vicinity would immediately be drawn to the source, like a school of piranhas to blood. What they truly sought was a crack in the Bark, however. Once they found it, Parasytes would congeal on the location, meld together, expand, deteriorate the surface, and grow even further.

“They will cover a branch?” Apexus suggested.

“No, although that would be a logical conclusion,” Maltos denied and then supplied the real answer. “The Infestation consolidates into a creature known as a Leaf-Eater. Parasytes cannot enter Leaves, but that monstrosity can hook its fangs into the Stem of a world. Once that has happened, it sucks the entire world clean of magic and lifeforce. The only escape route would be through the Parasyte’s mandibles. In other words, there is no escape.” The old Monk took a pause. “Combatting the Parasytes is the work of angels and the Church. I once saw the Progenitor’s Chosen cut down a Leaf-Eater. A spear of light incinerated the creature from the inside out. What followed was a tide of black. All the lesser Parasytes followed, attracted by the magic. Once an Infestation has manifested, that area of the Omniverse takes decades of deliberate care to recover.” Maltos shook his head. “It is a wonder the Church still functions in any capacity. The sprawling branches of the Omniverse are too numerous to be overseen by one organization, yet they must be, in order to be cared for properly by people that have the power to push back the nothingness.”

“The Omniverse is like us,” Apexus remarked.

“What do you mean by that?” Maltos asked, intrigued.

“There’s a great number of influences pulling at it at any given time. Some need to be exorcised, others acknowledged and kept in balance.” Apexus kept trotting along, finally asking a question that he had been unable to answer. “Teacher, when is it right to kill?”

“When there’s no chance at redemption,” Maltos responded immediately.

“But how would I know that there is no chance?”

“You will know.”

“But how?” Apexus repeated his question.

“You are training your own mind, Apexus, to recognize your faults,” Maltos explained slowly. “Through this training, your intuition will sharpen. Sometimes you may strike down those who threaten you out of necessity, even though they may be saved. This should be avoided where it can be and this doubt you feel, when it comes to them, you should keep it healthy. Like all urges, let it be a presence in your mind, let it advise you, and do not let it stay your hand when you make a decision. Other times, you will see people of such deep rot that you will know that they must die. You will know that their desires control them and drive them to atrocities without care.”

“So, it will sometimes be easy?”

“The decision will be easy, the act itself will weigh on your mind,” Maltos stated and the cart came to a sudden halt. “Is something the matter?”

Apexus hadn’t planned the stop. Mentally, he didn’t quite know what to make of that advice yet. Physically, the cart had simply gotten stuck in the mud. The slime gave it two heavy shoves. Both times, the cart made it a bit forward. The wheels dug deeper. “We are stuck,” he confessed.

Effortlessly, Maltos jumped off the cart and landed on the dirt road. His robe was stained with the splatter of mud. Making his way around to the back, the old monk inspected the wheels first, then grabbed the last plank of the wooden construct. Wet sounds could be heard, when the mud separated from the wheels. “Go on,” Maltos instructed, holding up the cart with one hand.

Apexus took several steps. Maltos walked over the puddle of wet earth, his bare feet staying on the surface. Once they made it across, he put the cart back down and jumped on the back. “You are impressive,” the humanoid slime said.

“I have seen and done a great many things,” Maltos responded simply.