“Do you remember the question you answered when you first came here?” Maltos asked, him and Apexus sitting across each other in the teacher’s tiny, barren room. It was the eighth day of training and followed a night Apexus had spent at home. As far as they had agreed to push him, Maltos still saw it necessary for the humanoid chimera to rest. If not for his own sake, then because Aclysia and Korith would have trouble concentrating when he was away for too long. Reysha was the one of the three who could live with some prolonged separation – although her physical needs were a different matter.

In summary, it was just better to give the quartet some time off every now and again. The teachers acknowledged that, even the harshest ones.

“The question… what is the Class closest to a Monk? – the Berserker,” Apexus responded after searching his memory for a few moments. His recollections were usually quite reliable, but that particular one had been minorly buried by the panic attack that had come right after it. “The Monk is all about control of motion and emotion. The Berserker lets them take full control. Although one shackles and the other lets run wild, both use their mental state to achieve superhuman feats.”

“Correct,” Maltos nodded, “and never forget that Berserkers, too, use their mental state. Many Monks find our uncontrolled peers to be dishonourable, but you should respect them. It is not easy to let one’s rage be in such total control. They hone their minds, in their own reckless ways.” Maltos sipped from his tea, a slow, deliberate motion. Everything the old monk did was measured in some way.

Apexus wanted to emulate that. Most of what he did was deliberate, but he was still a creature of many instincts. There was nothing the slime wanted to be outside of his control. Patiently, he sat there, while Maltos sorted his thoughts on how to continue. The teacher was considering and the student knew better than to push unnecessarily, and so there was silence. Only the chirping of the birds in the forest outside provided an ambience.

“I said this before, but it warrants repeating: you have talent to be a Monk. I judge that this is because, by instinct alone, you would have made a splendid Berserker. You chose peace over violence many times and that is how you ended up here,” Maltos turned the cup in his hand. “You took a week to activate your magic circuits… that was faster than I would have feared and slower than I had hoped. Which means, so far, we are right on track. The next part, I expect to go rapidly.”

Apexus tilted his head when he heard the bothered tone in which his teacher said that. “Is there an issue with me advancing quickly?”

“There might be. Many students grow frustrated when they have an easy time initially and then hit the wall. I do not expect that to be a problem with you. I am simply at a loss as to what to teach you first.” After emptying his cup, Maltos stood up. “When one is at a loss about what to start with, one should just start. Come with me.”

The two of them left the chamber and stepped into the courtyard, where the other Monks in training were going through their every day morning poses. None of them turned their heads towards the owner of the temple and his personal pupil. There was interest in why Apexus had been given so much special attention, some of the pupils less qualified for monkhood even felt jealousy. Those that knew Apexus also knew that the special attention was warranted. Teachers and students alike knew he was, as Maltos observed, exceptionally apt at this craft.

In a different life, at a different time, he would have received less intense special attention for his talent alone.

Maltos directed Apexus to an open space of the large, naked plaza that made up the vast majority of the temple grounds. “Reveal your chest,” the old monk directed and was immediately obliged. Apexus slipped out of the top of his robe as easily as ever. It was designed to be swiftly discarded, after all. “A Monk’s Martial Arts are among the most effective there are, because of how diverse they are,” Maltos explained. “Assume form three of the mantis stance.”

Wordlessly, Apexus obeyed. Like most stances, it began at the correct positioning of the feet. One forward, the other decently far behind, the legs bent halfway to a squat. The mark of all forms of the mantis stance was that both fists were raised towards the opponent. For this particular form, the fist on the same side of the forward leg was deliberately further out. The intent was to draw back from an attacking opponent and then retaliate immediately, with a downward strike with the other arm.

Of course, the intent of any good stance was just the primary way to punish inexperienced opponents. No useful martial art locked someone in a single course of action.

“Your stance is flawless,” Maltos commented on what he already knew. The thought Apexus had needed to put into forming his body translated into a deep understanding of how each muscle was supposed to move. Because the techniques of this school of Monk training were practical over aesthetic, he had acquired them swiftly. “Martial Arts are defined by being Skills that require at least two of the ways to shape ki, that is mana inside the body, and the use of focus points. They often blur the line between Skills and Spells, by having effects outside the body, although their range is in most cases much smaller than their mage counterparts.”

Apexus nodded once at the end. He knew all of this already but listened to the explanation anyway.

“Martial Arts of Monks use all the three major Inside Body channels: Joints, Bones, and Muscles. This is what makes them the most difficult, the most taxing, and the most versatile. Our Martial Arts are among the most effective, but we must choose wisely what we utilize. We carry an empty fist, so we may wield what we need the most in any situation.”

“Yes, teacher,” Apexus answered, enthusiasm reverberating in his voice.

“You will first be taught three Skills. Three basic Skills, which I expect all Monks to learn. You will learn the basic Skill of Rogues, to dislocate and relocate your joints through magic. You will learn the basic Skill of Warriors, to reinforce your bones. Finally, you will learn the basic skill of Fighters, to boost the strength of your muscles. We will begin in that order. First the joints.” Maltos lowered his voice. “I understand that this will be a useless Skill for you, but you need to know how to do it. Focus your mana inside your shoulder and release it in a burst. To slot it back in, concentrate it in the same way and then attempt to create a vacuum. Imagine caving your cheeks in.”

Apexus did as he asked. He did not close his eyes, having heard what Reysha went through whenever she tried to concentrate only on her inside. Although Maltos was not that sort of merciless teacher, he still approved of the slime keeping his guard up while attempting his task.

After a week of forcefully training his mana circuits, channelling his ki down one of the many paths inside him was almost too simple. It was like walking down a road, after spending months levelling and paving the ground and creating it in the first place.

The mana flowed out of the circuits and into the joint itself. It wasn’t a place for it to dwell and Apexus felt both his mind and his body strain from the effort of keeping it there. It was like he was clenching a fist in his shoulder, a highly unusual sensation, but not as unusual for a creature that had assumed many forms before and would assume more in the future. What aversion regular adventurers felt when first learning Skills, the slime did not have. What discipline they lacked, he possessed. What experience they had yet to gain, the humanoid slime had gone through tenfold.

With a sudden ‘POP’ Apexus’ left shoulder jumped out of its socket. There was some pain, the excess mana released hurting the surrounding muscle.

Maltos nodded approvingly, but kept his comment until the shoulder cracked back into place. Apexus kept his stance and his expression straight the entire time. A normal person’s arm would have dangled uselessly for the seconds between the slotting in and out, but no one apart from the teacher had observed that fact. “That usually takes people around two weeks to learn,” the teacher commented. “However, you are much ahead of novices. Let’s continue. Focus mana in your right forearm. Once you are ready, I will strike at it. If you have done it correctly, you will feel no pain from the impact.”

“I understand,” Apexus stated and turned his attention inwards again. Finding the path was easy, once again. The hard work of manually creating every path, the mind-breaking labour, it certainly paid off. Few people, especially at his level, could boast such intimate knowledge of their mana circuits. Only to make the mana seep into the bones was new, but it was also much easier. The circuits naturally weaved through the bones, travelled through the marrow and over the surface, and for the hardening nothing needed to be done besides pushing it in there and then letting it reinforce the natural structures. “I am ready.”

Maltos struck immediately. He was fast, much faster than a man his age and stature should have been, yet not as fast as Apexus knew he could be. The fist slammed against Apexus’ defensively raised arm and came to a stop. “Very good,” the teacher stated. “Then, for the last – strike at me whenever you have reinforced your muscles.”

Nodding, Apexus watched his teacher assume a simple defensive stance, with one palm raised and the other waiting. No instructions were needed. The area of the body was different, but the technique behind it was the same. Ki was pushed from the magic circuit in his hips all the way to his right upper arm. The magic seeped out from his bone into the muscles. Instinct would have guided an inexperienced fighter to just pump it all into the major muscle of the area – the bicep – but Apexus knew what muscles in the area went into a punch. From his back to his pecks, he reinforced all that had any supporting role in the motion of drawing his arm back and then bringing it down on the smaller man.

Apexus meant to deliver the strongest he could give and he exceeded it. He could feel the effect of the magic and felt exhilarated by it. He was faster, stronger, and harder. Yet even with all of that additional power, when his fist touched Maltos’ palm, he redirected the attack with pure physical technique. No magic was involved, turning it off to the side. “What are you thinking about right now?” the old monk asked, while Apexus pulled back his fist.

The humanoid chimera did not answer immediately. He spread his wings, filled the muscles within with power, and beat them once. Without any sprint or move of his legs, he lifted half a metre off the ground. He fell, landed on his feet, then slammed an empowered fist into his reinforced palm. Under the skin, the liquid parts between his Growths rippled invisibly.

“Magic is terrifying,” Apexus responded finally.

Maltos nodded, knowing what his pupil meant. Wanting an elaboration, mostly so Apexus could sort his thoughts, he asked, “Can you elaborate?”

“I have strong hands. I can shatter trees with my knuckles. Now I could smash rock and not even break anything,” he turned his hand and looked at it from several angles, “this is deadlier than any iron sword with just the basics. All a man built in a year – I could crush it in a minute. I will only grow stronger from here. More destructive. I could kill regular people in one swipe. It wouldn’t be difficult. That is terrifying.”

“Remember that,” Maltos advised. “It is easy to be seduced by power. Remember what magic can do if you wield it without purpose. Now, you managed to learn those three swiftly and mastery of them is not required for this next step. Stand at ease.” Apexus did as demanded and got into a relaxed stance, his arms dangling at his sides. “The most interesting part about your newest growth is simultaneously the most expected.”

Before Maltos elaborated further, he jabbed at a point left of the dip between Apexus’ chest and his shoulder. Suddenly, that entire area relaxed intensely, a sensation that rapidly spread down his entire arm. It was like all energy had been sapped from it in an instant. Apexus tried to move it. Barely, he managed to twitch with his fingers. After two seconds, that changed to him being able to make a fist. Sensation and control normalized, while his teacher talked.

“You have the same pressure points as all other humanoids, even though your magical cortex is in a different position and of a different nature,” Maltos observed. “This teaches me something, that they are not there by a divine design, but by natural shape in a humanoid body. I thank you for teaching me this, Apexus.” His teacher bowed.

“I thank you for having shared this revelation with me,” the humanoid slime responded, bowing in turn. The two straightened back up in unison and continued the lecture as if nothing had happened. For the most part, as far as the two of them were concerned, nothing really had happened. Respect between the two of them was clear. Apexus had a teacher before him and a good man who harboured no dark secrets like Gizmo had. Maltos saw a pupil who entrusted him with his life and he would do his all to make sure it remained where it was supposed to.

“What I just pressured is one of the physical focus points,” Maltos explained. “I will refer to them as focus or pressure points. The difference in those terms is purely in whether you attempt to strengthen your own or weaken the enemy’s, in position and purpose they remain mostly the same. There are three general types of points: physical, magical, and sensation. They are separated then into major, medium, and minor points. You have felt these points forming, you said?”

“Yes,” Apexus responded.

“Show me where you think they are,” Maltos requested and followed as Apexus touched about a dozen points all over his body. Some were symmetrical, others were mirrored in odd ways, others did not have a counterpart at all. When he was done, the old monk hummed. “You have pointed at the minor points in the torso, but nothing else. This next part will be unpleasant, prepare yourself.”

“Yes,” Apexus stated and took a deep breath for comfort alone. He nodded. Painlessly, the index finger of Maltos jabbed at a point north-east of the slime’s decoratively placed navel.

Apexus collapsed instantly. All of the strength was gone from his muscles. Just before he hit the floor, it all returned and he caught himself. “That was a physical major point,” Maltos stated. “It may be somewhat confusing, but major does not describe size but instead importance. The most important pressure points are all smaller than the tip of a needle. Pressing them in combat usually takes an immobilized opponent, so few Monks specialize in attacking them aggressively.”

“I see,” Apexus vocalized that he was listening.

“You will learn them all and how to press them. First, however, you will need to exploit them on your own body. It is by drawing our ki through specific routes, that the Martial Arts of Monks achieve their specific, often highly specialized effects. Where other Classes’ Martial Arts are usually focused around the timing and intensity of the release, ours are about the correct path. Remember this.”

“The result of an action is all about the journey taken to achieve it,” Apexus summarized it as a mantra.

Maltos showed a broad smile, “Precisely, my pupil. Now, follow me. The next part will be study.”

Although he suppressed it, Apexus felt like groaning.