Because of all the planning, I decided to slip off on my own to relax and assimilate some stats. I’d been suppressing some incoming stat gains for a while, and now that I had some down time I was more than happy to let them roll.

That was one amazing thing about having a stronger soul. The control I had over how and when I received my stats. I’d known of course, that E-rankers especially were capable of this, because I’d seen it first hand. Back on Callus, I’d seen the E-rankers in charge delay stat gains until after the scavenger hunt, same thing with the Moonsong Glade.

I’d known it was soul related, but I hadn’t really equated it with my own growing ability to restrain myself stat wise, even though the connection should have been obvious.

Now that I thought about it though I could see small facets of that ability, and the limitations of it. I knew for instance, that it was impossible to use your soul to prevent someone else from gaining stats. I also knew the power of contracts. We’d all agreed to be in that scavenger hunt, and as such, had given permission for the Academy to fuck with stat allocation to maximize gains.

I wondered if I was capable of holding back stat gains for hundreds if not thousands of G-rankers…and then I realized that yeah, I probably was.

G-rankers got a few points here and there, but nothing like the hundreds or thousands I got when a huge windfall landed on my head. Not to mention the massive Impact disparity might lessen the strain on my soul, I wasn’t sure about that though.

But it was clear that getting random point bumps mid battle or when you were busy was a liability, and the higher you got up the ladder the more necessary that kind of control was. Smiling and exhaling slowly, I relaxed a clenched part of my soul I had barely even realized I was holding, and I felt the last few weeks of renown hit me all at once.

With my increased familiarity with stats and Skills, I was able to almost feel the secondary effects, like the muscles getting stronger, as the points infused my body, I blinked at the extreme amount of points compared to my usual.

Some of them I got. Creation for example had gotten a full thousand points. That was odd given the limitations of the local landscape where Empire citizens wouldn’t generate too much, but I supposed plenty of people might be watching what I was doing after my previous escapades. It was possible some of them had been spreading information about my new construction hobby. That or the construction of the giant stone golem battlesuit during my fight with Weston.

Three hundred Might made sense, since I HAD helped kill a D-ranker, even if indirectly. Nothing like I’d have gotten if I’d offed him personally like Callen, but it was a solid bump, and the five hundred Fantasy probably had something to do with those crazy ass chains I’d used to help bind the bastard.

The two hundred forty Vitality was most likely for surviving the fight, even suppressed. A hit from him should have straight up snuffed me out like a candle.

Finishing up, I looked over my stats, a grand total of fourteen thousand eight hundred points. Even a month ago this would have been an unimaginable windfall, but it was clear that after hitting E-rank, the real grind began. I had a LOT of points to gain before I was ready to become a Master.

“There you are.” Said a voice, jerking me out of my reverie. I looked up to see Abel standing over me, looking as relaxed as ever. “Saw you slip off and figured you might be getting some training done. Or you were just getting bored of the building talk.”

I laughed ruefully, plopping down next to a fruit tree. Abel sat beside me and, without looking up, smacked an elbow into the trunk, catching an apple as it fell from the branches without even looking.

“You realize we can throw small buildings right?” I asked in amusement. “That’s not really an impressive trick. Why bother with the showmanship?”

“You’re talking about it, aren’t ya?” I blinked, having no real response to that. “Mostly I was here to check on you. After that big mess with the invasion, I know it’s probably tempting to bury yourself in pre matrimonial bliss, but distracting yourself from that shit only works for so long. Not to bring down the mood, but if you need to talk, I’m happy to listen without you killing the buzz for everyone else.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

That wasn’t what I expected at all. “I’m…kind of shocked, honestly. I expected you to be all like ‘suck it up, people die, go punch something until you feel better’.” I put on a semi-manic tone, imitating my mentor, and he snorted at the attempt.

“I don’t sound like that.” He said with a laugh. “But in any case, that’s shitty advice. Losing people sucks, I’ve been there. It hurts no matter how much it happens. That’s why I don’t bother caring about more than a few relatively hard to kill people.”

I stared at him. “You’re saying…it grinds you down? Even you? I thought all this combat shit was your life?”

“Oh it is.” He agreed. “Loss sucks for everyone, but I’m…I’m built different. I don’t say that as a flex, or as some kind of brag, it’s just true. Do you know why I’m as strong as I am?”

Laughing, I rolled my eyes. “You gave me this speech, it’s because you don’t care what anyone thinks.” My mentor’s rant was still firmly fixed in my mind even after months. I knew his reasoning, and as much as I didn’t agree exactly, it worked for him.

“False.” He rebutted. “I told you HOW I got strong, I didn’t tell you why. Do you know why?”

“Because you’re a punch happy lunatic?” I said, half jokingly.

He snorted. “You bet your ass that’s why.” He said bluntly. “I’m like this because I LOVE fighting. I love combat, I love hardship, I even love pain. Hurting makes me feel alive, it lets me know that I’m getting stronger. Every ache, every twinge, its all part of a beautiful song my body sings, a beautiful symphony of creation and destruction where every note works to make me more than I currently am.”

“Damn.” I said in shock. “That’s almost poetic. But I’m sure there are other people who love to train, why aren’t they as strong as you.”

He shrugged. “Some of them are. But it’s not as common as you think. My point isn’t that being like that makes me awesome though, even if I think it does. It’s a matter of mindset. You like fighting don’t you? Like to feel your blood pumping as you crush your enemies?”

“Sure.” I said uncertainly. “It’s something I enjoy doing once in a while. I’m not going to make it my life, I need time to decompress sometimes.”

Pointing at me, he snapped his fingers. “There.” He said with a nod. “That’s the difference. You like to fight, it’s fun for you, but it’s exhausting. Mentally, emotionally, you need time to recover, time to build back up. Your body can handle a ton more than you put it through, but your mind isn’t ready for non stop grinding.”

“And yours is?” I said, half disbelievingly. “You’re just some kind of machine that never needs to recover and has no mental strain?” It would have sounded ridiculous from anyone else, but if anyone could make that claim it would be Abel.

To my surprise, he shook his head. “Of course not. People like that don’t exist. Everyone gets run down, everyone has problems at some point. Everyone feels pain and fear and exhaustion, even me. I’m not some ultimate warrior that can’t be defeated and needs no rest. I like to relax as much as the next guy.”

“So what the hell are you talking about?” I asked in irritation. “You said that’s the difference between us.”

Laughing, he just shook his head. “Because it IS the difference. The difference isn’t that I don’t feel strain though, it’s what I consider relaxing in the first place. Fighting isn’t strain, it doesn’t push me or wear me out. Fighting is what I live, it’s what I breathe. Fights are what I DO to decompress. Training is how I vacation. I LIVE for this shit.”

“How is that any different?” I said owlishly. “You just…don’t get worn down because you like it?”

He nodded, pleased. “Exactly. People need downtime. Mental health is a real thing, and no one is an island. All that cliche bullshit. But that only applies when you get worn down to begin with. It’s like pain. Getting your nose broken sucks, unless you’re a masochist, and then maybe it’s a good time. It’s a matter of perspective. Like I said, I’m just built different. My point wasn’t a speech about how great I am though, it’s that I KNOW I’m built different and I adjust my expectations accordingly.”

“So you think I need to let off some steam about all the death and destruction instead of burying it in good news?” I said quietly.

Another shrug. “Maybe, or maybe you need something good to focus on. That’s not my call, kid. I’m just saying I realize talking about this would be a buzzkill on your happy day, and that might stop you from being willing to bring it up. I’m here to listen if you need to vent but don’t want to bring the others down.”

“Callie-” I started, but he cut me off immediately.

“Callie has her own shit to deal with, and don’t forget I have a bond just like yours.” He said bluntly. “I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t want to bring her down after cheering her up, and I know the bond well enough to know you can avoid it.”

I deflated a bit. He was right. I’d been avoiding thinking about all the losses specifically to prevent my bad mood from infecting my fiancee. She was already reeling from Perit’s death, even after all this time, I didn’t want her dwelling on who had been killed in this mess. We hadn’t lost any of our group members, thankfully, but it was still hard to think about.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a dick?” I asked flatly as I made a mental effort to block off the bond so Callie didn’t get a heaping helping of guilt and self recrimination.

Abel just burst out laughing. “No.” He said sarcastically. “You’re the first person to ever say that to me. I’m shocked I tell you, shocked.” I glared at him, and despite my mask covering my whole face, he seemed to get how I felt. He grinned at me. “You’re thinking about dropping me in one of those dust pits right now huh?”

I clicked my tongue. “Yeah, but you’re too close. You’de probably either avoid it or drag me in.” I scowled. “You sat right next to me for that exact reason didn’t you? So I wouldn’t drop you in a hole?”

“Maybe.” He said, shrugging expansively. “Who knows. Regardless, I’m just sitting here, minding my own business. I figure you have another hour or two before they finish planning everything out and the missus comes looking for you. Personally I think I’ll just sit here eating my apple, but if someone started talking I couldn’t exactly tune them out.”

Sighing, I shook my head. “You know, you are simultaneously the best and worst teacher I’ve ever had.”

He nodded seriously. “Disappointingly impressive.” He said humbly. “It’s my sweet spot. Now stop asking me questions and let me eat this apple. Your turn to talk.” He took another loud bite, averting his eyes and I smiled. It was nice to know I could vent to somebody. So I did. By the time Callie came looking for me I was feeling a lot better. For someone who didn’t care about people Abel was kind of a people person. Who knew?