Under Jerry’s watchful eye, I once more summoned 4 corpse hunters, 3 skeleton archers, and 2 zombie scavengers. He passed me the morning report on minions. I grinned, pleased about the climbing numbers.

TurnipArcher of the Blood OwlLvl 15Yellow BonesAncient Skeleton DrudgeLvl 14Shroom BearerLvl 12Gerard KiefhartReanimated AntphoLvl 11Skeleton ArcherLvl 10Corpse HunterLvl 9*Corpse Hunter (x4)Lvl 8Skeleton Archer (x4)Lvl 8GhoulLvl 8*Skeleton Archer (x3)Lvl 6Sergeant TimSkeleton Drudge SergeantLvl 6*Zombie Scavenger (x2)Lvl 5Total Minions: 21

“...also.. Shroom bearer?”

Jerry nodded. “One of the corpse hunters has taken a liking to eating the shrooms. As a result, when I inspected it this morning with Absolute Identify, it turned out that it had evolved. Due to your susceptibility, for now it remains outside of the castle.”

Briefly, I scanned the list one more time. Oh? Another zombie scavenger evolved into a ghoul? That would be-

My face froze. “...Sergeant Tim…?”

“Ah yes. Although his level gains aren’t so impressive, he is honestly the most valuable undead we have, aside from Yellow Bones. His strategies are invaluable, and the reason so many more minions survived yesterday.”

-Come to think of it, did we see him at all yesterday?

-What the fuck is this skeleton drudge doing?!?!

“I’d very much like to talk… strategy with Corporal Tim.”

Jerry frowned at me. “Sergeant Tim. After another exemplary day of service, I promoted him again. And that shouldn’t be a problem. He is already out doing his daily patrols, but I’ll send him your way when he returns.”

-His daily patrols…?

-Didn’t we summon him on a whim two days ago? Surely, some intrepid challenger will appear to kill him today… He’s only lvl 6.

-I don’t support wishing death on our minions who shamble around in spite of death, but I too am disturbed by this “Tim”. Who is he? What is he doing? Why did a lvl 4 skeleton drudge get a name?

-And he’s making strategies now? We should-

“Uh, sir.” Jerry was giving me a strange look. “That woman from the tavern is here once more.”

-Shit.

I hurried outside, and to my surprise I found Whipman to talking to the lizard woman. As I approached, she cackled with glee, and then shook her head ruefully. Shrugging, Whipman stepped away.

“Today… 20 minutes late… adding 200 towers to the order.”

Sighing, I asked for various cosmetic upgrades to the castle, including a bed in my room, and working kitchen. Then I asked for towers at the corners, and stairs so skeleton archers could get up there. We haggled briefly, and settled on a price of 1050 towers, including the “upcharges”.

“Is that all?” The lizard woman ashed her pipe, seemingly disappointed.

Sighing, I finally asked. “I was also wondering if you could craft a specialty minion for me. I was thinking something more… camouflaged. The shrooms are perfect, just most of the challengers have realized that they aren’t a good thing, and can avoid them easily. If there was some hidden creature, waiting in the middle…”

The lizard woman took three long tokes. Then she said, her voice cracking. “These minions… would you want them to use p-p-poison?!?!”

Resigned, I nodded.

*****

“Mornings we will begin your specific training for Thunder Stance, Evenings will be more training to get the other cadences. I’ve created this sled for you. Instead of punching the pole, you will leap forward when I yell ‘Leap’. Simple, right?”

The “sled” was a piece of wood with two of the drums that Jen used to bring me lunch, filled with rocks and other debris. A rope around my waist and two around each arm completed the “harness”.

“Leap!”

I pressed forward, jerking the sled forward a little but not much. It was surprisingly heavy, and the angle I was dragging it at made it hard to leverage enough force to move it forward.

Whipman, of course, took my failure very personally. “Thunder SURGES! It changes from nothing to destruction in an instant! It does not tepidly jerk forward. Put some soul into it. Leap!”

So it continued.

*****

“Today, instead of breaks between sets, will will have a 5 minute spare. Kukuku… I hope you’ve prepared yourself."

*****

“Talentless pupil, let’s try something else. Let’s go through a couple of the basic forms of thunder stance. Copy my movements.”

*****

“Leap!”

-Every drop of sweat tempers you.

-Every second of struggle sculpts you.

-Every bit of pain forges you.

“Leap!”

-Every drop of sweat tempers you.

-Every second of struggle sculpts you.

-Every bit of pain forges you.

“Leap!”

-Every drop of sweat tempers you.

-Every second of struggle sculpts you.

-Every bit of pain forges you.

“Leap!”

I surged forward, and then paused to wipe the sweat from my brow. So it continued.

*****

“Remember, there are three planes. High, middle, and low. And when in thunder stance, a blow that changes plane changes all the way. A blow starting in low and heading upwards will end in High always. Thunder surges! Just like a blow starting in high will go all the way down to low. Thunder strikes! Practice with me!"

*****

“Leap!”

-Every drop of sweat tempers you.

-Every second of struggle sculpts you.

-Every bit of pain forges you.

“Leap!”

-Every drop of sweat tempers you.

-Every second of struggle sculpts you.

-Every bit of pain forges you.

“Leap!”

*****

When I heard the pop of Jenn appearing, I sighed with relief, but no sooner had she appeared then she blinked out of existence, leaving a huge amount of drums.

I ate quickly, incredibly hungry. Luckily since coming here these daily large meals had largely eradicated my rumbling stomach.

After I finished, Whipman brought me back to the pole and had me punish it with almost painful slowness, trying to find the cadence of earth.

“In my master’s words,” Without looking up at my progress, Whipman continued to read from the book he had brought down from his room. “Each of the 4 stances can be summed up in a single word. Thunder stance is “surge”. Earth stance is “foundation”. Air is “layers”. Water is “depth”. Now, the exact terms my vary upon the individual, but all who practice the Tellite arts must find their own single word core that their art stems from.”

As I continued to punch with exaggerated slowness, a notification popped up. I was excited, ready to quit this pointless exercise, but it wasn’t the cadence of earth.

Congratulations! Due to your actions, the skill has changed to “Physicality Lvl 3”: Extreme physical activity has become the norm. Small amounts of muscle mass gained. Your usage of your strength has become more efficient.

I breathed out a sigh, closing the notification with a thought. I must find my own core words, then perhaps…

I breathed in, my fist strike inching forward. Earth… earth is foundation, huh… Earth is solid. Earth is budding. Earth is… unexpected. Earth borrows power from you… From your opponents...

Shaking my head, I let my mind go blank. Almost without a thought, my thoughts turned to thunder stance. Whipman continued to lecture, walking back and forth, staring at the clouds. Thunder stance…

My body tightened, and my speed doubled, tripled, quintupled, my fist reached the post in a burst of strength that even surprised me. I stopped it at the last second from smashing into the pole, making a noise Whipman would notice, but only barely.

Thunder stance is…

‘Wrath.’ The impression within me, smaller and weaker now, whispered. I smiled.

It was true. That burst of power, that indomitable will that these training exercises drilled into me, that was wrath. Unquenchable, vicious, destructive wrath.

Earth was different. It grew slowly. It resisted the quick dispersal that could quell wrath. It lingered, and the times it did the most damage were when it crept up on you, unexpected but firm.

Earth stance is…

Resentment.

Congratulations! Due to your actions, you have learned the skill “Cadence of Earth”: You are firmly on the path to learning the profound martial arts of the Tellite people. Knowledge and experience are required for this skill to evolve further.

*****

After I learned the Earth cadence, Whipman instructed me to take two wooden shields and enter the water of the moat with them, rotating my arms in opposite directions, at equal speeds. It was extremely difficult. The water flowed around in strange currents, twisting my arms, the shields turning, seeking the path of least resistance.

Depth, I could understand why that was the core of the stance. But for whatever reason, that didn’t resonate with me as well.

Water stance was… connected and messy. When you touched water, it splashed. It resisted force, but it also made sure you ended up doused in the water too, even if you came with the best intentions. It seeped within cracks, trickling downwards.

Water can deflect easily. It can change forms swiftly, but often just as swiftly reverts back. It animates life, but also can be the most destructive force in the world.

Water stance is…

Hatred.

Congratulations! Due to your actions, you have learned the skill “Cadence of Water”: You are firmly on the path to learning the profound martial arts of the Tellite people. Knowledge and experience are required for this skill to evolve further.

My lips twisted into a smile.

*****

The final training, the one for the air stance, involved standing on several poles, leaping from one to another to dodge projectiles.

Turnip volunteered, altogether way too excited at the prospect of shooting arrows at me. To compensate for his vastly increased skill, he had to stay at his post over the gate.

Stepping lightly, I avoided another arrow. He knocked two more and fired both at once. But I just laughed, leaping away.

Layers I understood now too. There really was so much space in air. And power came not from control fistfuls of it like other me had been doing so far, but by gathering a thin cutting edge, driving through the mass of layers in the way.

Turnip hissed his annoyance, and drew again, using his rapid fire skill to fill the air with 7 arrows before I could blink. But I danced and twisted, dodging them all.

Air was light. It was everywhere. It crept into any space, no matter how small, no matter in what direction. When pressured, air becomes extremely dangerous. Air warns you of something passing you close by. Air can vibrate, carrying information your body understand instinctively.

Air stance is…

Fear.

Congratulations! Due to your actions, you have learned the skill “Cadence of Air”: You have finally gained a footing on all four of the profound martial arts of the Tellite people. Knowledge and experience are required for these skills to evolve further.

But it was accompanied by another notification, one that reminded me that my ultimate goal was survival, and the only way to survive here was to kill.

Congratulations! Due to your actions, you have earned the title “Singer of the Dark Cadences”. After being exposed to the profound martial arts of the Tellite people, you have intuitively understood the darkness inherent in all of the stances, and brought them to the surface. Any just and honorable individual who sees your version of the stances will feel fear in their heart. Damage while using one of the stances is increased by 15%.

I ordered Turnip to stop firing and told Whipman I was taking the rest of the day off from training. I walked out of the castle gates, cognizant of the locations of the shroom traps.

*****

***POV Change***

Emil quickly took notes on what Dom was saying. “So we know there are those poison areas, here, here, and here, but the path to the castle seems pretty clear and by tomorrow… Hey, what’s all that racket?”

Flinching, Emil shifted away from Dom, getting some distance. When he spoke with that tone… whoever caused it would pay. Dom was a large balding man with grey skin and two short tusks that appeared to have been sawed up. Based on what Emil knew from Dom’s race, it was a miracle he was still alive.

Emil had always suspected he survived on mean spirit and cruelty, anyways.

Someone screamed on the edge of the camp, and then abruptly stopped screaming. Silence fell over the group. Before that scream, Dom had Emil tally up 23 challengers staying here. Everyone kept their eyes on the treeline the scream came from.

A chill descended over the area. Emil suddenly felt afraid, more afraid then he had in his entire life. As if every breath gave up a little bit more of his life and will to this demanding cold. Like he should just lay down right now, and accept it…

“YOU CRAVEN ASS, SHOW YOURSELF!” Dom stood up and bellowed at the woods. They had encountered larger groups, some of which had challengers that claimed they had been here for four days, and that passing the path was impossible. They warned of ambushes from archers, skeletons, and zombie dogs. Worst of all they said, was the giant yellow skeleton who seemed invulnerable.

But they said that it wasn’t so bad, small groups didn’t attract its notice, and it could be heard coming from a ways off. Now, from the woods, there was only silence.

A man coughed. Dom glared at him.

A twig snapped as a figure walked out of the woods. It was a male with pale skin and long, dark hair that hung wild to his chin. His eyes flashed yellow, visible even from this distance. In one hand was a short sword, and in his other was a black cudgel. There was blood on the sword.

His body was lean and well muscled, and he was clothed in torn rags. But when Emil looked at him, Emil could only think one thing.

This creature is death.

“So you show yourself eh? You picked the wrong party to mess with, right boys? Let’s show-”

But death had already moved, surging forward, driving his sword through the closest man’s heart. By the time anyone had processed what had happened, he had moved onto the next person, cracking his skull open like an egg. Every movement was purposeful and powerful, killing another. With a roar, Dom and everyone else charged, incensed, perhaps not sensing what Emil did; that this man would end them all.

Death stopped abruptly, right in front of a man with a sword. The man was brandishing the sword wildly, desperate to stop his advance, but was taken aback by the sudden cessation of motion. “Ah-?”

But the second the man lowered his sword, death began surging again, slitting his throat. But by now he was surrounded on four sides. The first man approached, death turned away from him and punched forward with his left hand, his right elbow moving back, almost in slow motion. The elbow met the man who was trying to tackle death to the ground, and the man just grunted, thrown back 5 m by the force of the elbow.

Then death crouched into a squat, holstering his weapons, and pushed out to each side with his palms in the same motion he settled deeper into the squat, a wave of force pushing everyone nearby backwards.

Death’s movements changed again, his bare hands twisted and flowing, his claw like fingers ripping out throats and snapping necks.

Within 20 seconds, everyone surrounding him was slaughtered, leaving Dom panting and reeling backwards. Seeing his subordinates die so easily, Dom roared and stabbed forward with his spear, but death’s hands twisted and he practically slithered past the spear head and up the shaft, immediately getting hands on Dom’s spear arm.

One movement violently sprained Dom’s wrist, forcing him to drop the spear. The next was a twist and an irresistible palm strike to the elbow joint, shattering it and forcing it to bend in the wrong direction. Then Death’s hand’s were around Dom’s throat, and he twisted.

Crack.

Emil was shivering. He remembered his mom settling the cloak she knit for him around his shoulders, asking if he really had to go. Emil had been determined; without money, their farm would get taken, or his mother forced to marry, or even worse, Emil’s little siblings… Emil put on a brave smile and promised her it would be alright, he would be brave.

The clearing was bereft of living souls, aside from Emil and death. Death disappeared, and Emil blinked. But then a soft pat informed him that death had somehow teleported behind him. Emil couldn’t bear to turn, but death’s hand wound itself in his hair, forcing him to look back and meet death’s gaze.

His voice, although deep and cold, was surprisingly normal. “Do you fear me?”

:”Ah….” Emil couldn’t even answer. The edges of his vision were going dark at the edges. His mother… his siblings… maybe if he explained, death would have mercy.

Then something seemed to catch death’s gaze, and death grinned at the air, pleased. That smile erased all hope within Emil that there was mercy in death.

“I can see that you do. Goodnight, sweet prince~”

Death’s hand descended, and Emil’s head slid backwards, detached from his body.

***POV Change***

Congratulations! Due to your actions, your skill has improved to “Aura of the Predator Lvl 4”. Effectiveness of the aura is slightly improved. Prolonged exposure will cause weak willed individuals to become a mindless thrall in service of you.

I made a mental note to experiment with that by capturing a weak challenger while flicking my fingers, cleaning them of the worst of the blood. Then, noticing the high quality workmanship of the cloak the boy who leveled up my aura was wearing, I paused.

-Truly, this little bit of exercise was immensely satisfying.

-And we will look quite dashing in this black cloak.

I didn’t even need to unlatch it, just lifted it off the headless body.

-Well, some minor blood stains, but who can avoid those, these days?

Settling it around my neck, I noticed how warm it still was from the previous owner. I hummed a half remembered tune as I walked back to the castle, and then prepared for bed.

***POV Change***

“You know, me agreeing to meet a challenger at such an early juncture is extremely unusually.” Dekker smiled at the figure across from him. A child’s body, barely 1.5 m tall. Thin, bony limbs with porcelain skin. Pointy ears. But that same porcelain skin showed that within that body’s chest, something burned. A holder of true fire.

Possibly a reincarnated dragon. Dekker shivered at the thought.

But then Dekker tried not to frown as the boy put his feet up on Dekker’s table.

“Hmph, as if I could lose here. Tomorrow I am challenging… the layer of 4? And father informed me you had bet an exceeding amount on my success. I always give a little bit of face to those who recognize my greatness.”

‘And the effectiveness of your adoptive father’s wallet.’ Dekker remarked inwardly to himself.

The boy leaned forward, his childish face twisting into something dark. “After all, we are all united in one cause, correct? Making sure my name, Encelldross, will be carved into the very fiber of this foolish tower.”

'Melodramatic, but...' Dekker's eyes glittered as he nodded at the boy's words. 'I think my fortunes are changing.'

*****Author's Note*****

Ugh, why do I keep writing these long days! I planned on 18 and 19 being relatively short, but I got too excited with training nonsense~ Hopefully you enjoyed it.

Oh, and I'm curious. What have y'all thought about the reports on the minions at the beginning of the day? Thoughts, ideas, criticisms? If you are enough, let me know in the comments~

And thanks to everyone for reading! One of the threads is over 1000 views~ ...readership drops off sharply after that, but still xD. In thanks, I'll try and push through and finish this Floor 1 arc tomorrow, which should be 20, 21, and 22. But no promises~