Unchosen Champion-Chapter 319: Unorthodox Cultivation

“Look! What’s that?” Lyriel grabbed Coop’s shoulder and pointed to the shallows they were leaving behind, eagerness communicated through both her voice and grip.

This was a query she had already repeated hundreds of times as they crossed the continent on a shared hike through the American South. She seemed intent on keeping it up, even as they sailed away from the mainland. Her fingers gently squeezed, as she silently insisted he answer.

Coop checked her latest find, taking a second to rub his eyes with his knuckles as she dragged her perfectly manicured finger across the water, tracking the creatures that she wanted him to see with her opposite hand. It took a moment before he recognized what they were looking at, but he squinted through his watery eyes to avoid missing them. It didn’t help that the water was deceptively turbulent, despite its glassy appearance at the surface, with underwater currents battling against inevitable tides and constant waves, all tinged with agitated mana.

At first, it looked like three polka dot kites with long tails drifting through the water, but Coop recognized the creatures soon enough to answer. “Three spotted eagle rays...” Coop finally responded, raising his eyebrows at the sight, but failing to match his usual genuine enthusiasm. The animals were swimming in formation, cruising along the sandy bottom, unbothered by the churn, leaving a trio of sediment trails across the seafloor before they were lost in the murk.

“And that? Over there?” Lyriel swept her pointed finger to a different spot, shifting her focus to a break in the water where a thousand tiny ripples danced together like pin drops on the smooth surface. It was almost as if an isolated sun shower specifically targeted a barrel-sized area with invisible droplets.

“Hmm.” Coop blinked, fighting with his double mana vision. “School of minnows.” He eventually concluded, recognizing the slight shimmer of tiny scales as they surged in unpredictable directions near the top of the water.

Though it had been nearly a week since he finished the fight with the Omega Construct Region Boss, his damaged vision lingered. He was slowly getting used to the sensations, though it was still frustrating, especially when his eyes involuntarily fought to focus, watering as they strained. It felt less like he was seeing double or that lines which should have been stationary were vibrating, and more like he had a bunch of extra floaters in his eyes that just happened to line up with the edges of solid objects. At least they lined up most of the time. They were something that his mind would eventually be able to sift through with enough practice, according to Lyriel.

He was thankful for that, because he had already had enough of feeling like he was on the verge of a headache, tripping over things he should have noticed, and missing the small details in his surroundings without applying Presence of Mind. At the same time, he was occasionally distracted by random flashes and random noise in the air, like he was spotting ghosts out of the corner of his eyes, causing him to flinch out of the way when nothing was really there other than tiny eddies of air turbulence. Overall it was an annoying, but relatively minor nuisance, like he needed a new prescription on a pair of scratched up glasses.

If he hadn’t been traveling with someone as powerful and protective as Lyriel, he probably would have struggled in at least a few more situations. Of course the benefits of having a goddess as a companion were at least partially offset by his inability to mistjump and cut the travel times way down. Being in unfamiliar territory while partially hindered made the issues that much more irritating. He would survive, but it only added to an underlying anxiety that was slowly building in his chest.

To him, it seemed pretty clear that this was not a new ability granted by the system, but rather something he had to develop independently, whether through brain damage or mana exposure. He had to give the system some credit, considering it was able to grant all sorts of other skills without the painful learning curve of channeling, manipulating, and adapting to the use of mana. For some reason, this mana sight was more of a cultivated talent, one that only came with a particular familiarity with specific affinities under precise circumstances. In his case, extended use of Vaporform to walk among the mists while exhausting his spectral mana on phantasms seemed to have been the trigger. He was mostly joking with himself about contributions of brain damage, but who really knew?

The whole situation had him reconsidering the explorations of mana that the Ghost Reef residents had been undertaking. With the knowledge that the Eradication Protocol would attempt to sever them from the system, more and more of his companions had been testing the limits of their skills, learning to draw on the pathways taught by the system without its guidance. Testing affinities and experimenting with internal and external mana concentrations were all a part of the process. Even Coop had previously come to the conclusion that the system was simply providing training wheels with its skills. He frequently applied what he considered to be muscle memory to access abilities without consciously activating them, essentially bypassing the system.

The whole experience with his eyes had him thinking about mana in general and made him increasingly curious about Lyriel’s relationship with mana in particular. She seemed devoted to the system, holding it up as the ultimate authority, but had been forced to survive completely outside of it. She heavily utilized mana while detesting its very existence, blaming it for excising her from the community and wiping out her species. At the same time, she described mana as an unthinking, emotionless force of nature. Coop knew better than to challenge such personal and tragic convictions, but it all seemed rather contradictory.

Coop looked at the apparent relationship between the system and mana and ended up with more questions than answers. The system guided those assimilated into the galactic community along its own traditional paths, subtly discouraging further experimentation beyond its conventional philosophies by providing a clearly delineated path of least resistance. That the most curious and innovative species were filtered out during the assimilation seemed rather convenient. But even when the limits were pushed, the system seemed able to fabricate paths on the fly, subtly maintaining its position as the arbiter of mana. At least, that’s how he understood what the Path of the Abyss had set upon him.

So, were the Exiles, like Lyriel, just unorthodox cultivators trying to find their way back into orthodoxy? They continued to wield mana without the system’s guidance or approval. Was the system representing merely one technique to utilize mana when there were surely countless others? Despite having the Avatar of the System around, Coop felt no closer to really understanding the relationships between the system, mana, and the lifeforms caught between.

Meanwhile, mana was a neutral element, seemingly accessible to anyone in several different ways. To blame it for the framework of the galaxy was kind of arbitrary. No one blamed the atom for the atomic bomb, or at least Coop didn’t think anyone did. He felt like the Icons of Mana and the armies they would bring were the appropriate recipient of his animosity, but mana itself was actually not that bad, though he would never admit such thoughts to Lyriel.

“What are those?” Lyriel continued with her game, aiming her delicate finger toward a familiar flock of noisy birds swooping behind the ship. She wouldn’t let her curiosity be outdone by Coop’s, easily recognizing when he was lost in his thoughts. He’d probably get wrinkles if he didn’t adopt more neutral expressions.

“More seagulls.” Coop played along with the Avatar. He was sure that she could recognize seagulls, but he understood that she was distracting his tumultuous mind while forcing him to grow familiar with the sensations of his particular form of spectral sight.

“Wondrous.” She concluded with a wistful tone, the genuineness making him wonder if she actually hadn’t been able to identify the flock of birds.

He watched her face closely, wondering exactly how much she really knew and how much was just guesswork. She detected his attention from behind her blindfold, and gave him a slight smile before she turned away, causing the tip of her pointed ear to bounce ever so slightly from where it poked through her loosely tied hair.

She was still scanning the horizon for anything else she could draw his attention to, unbothered by the uncomfortable humidity in the air. Her rather intense, domineering aura seemed to also act as a buffer, providing her with a pocket of controlled atmosphere that prevented her from being disheveled by wind or heat. The sun was already mercilessly reflecting off the water, promising that the day would be a hot one, making Coop a bit jealous of her unconscious energy. The breeze was weak, and the ship relied more on the flow of currents to propel itself away from the coast than its hanging sails. It felt like they were sailing through an oven, with heat rising all around them, and minimal airflow offering relief.

The water swirled with individual underwater rivulets that rushed into the gulf from the mainland. They carried inland sediments and made the water cloudy, subtly churning the surface as if there was a silent battle between the salt water waves and fresh water rivers, creating a brackish mix all along the southern shores. The clash almost brought his thoughts back to the conflicting ideas surrounding the system, but he had other more immediate concerns.

Normally, Coop would have enjoyed exploring the habitats within the Gulf deltas, seeing how the natural environment had replenished itself, and if the native animals were thriving or struggling, but at the moment he was mostly just eager to get home. If he was going to restart his leveling journey, he wanted to do it in a better way.

It had been another two and a half days with Lyriel and Palisteon as the trio hiked back toward the Gulf of Mexico, and Coop’s patience was wearing thin. It had nothing to do with the company, as the more he grew accustomed to Lyriel’s real personality the less disconnected and arrogant she seemed. It wasn’t because of his eyes either, as he could physically see the improvements as time went on. Obvious progress like that was an easy motivator to keep going.

Coop was really growing anxious about restarting his grind and the expectations he had created for himself. The thought caused him to quietly groan, rubbing his eyebrows with his hand as he tried to suppress the stress he had blatantly created for himself.

As he parted ways with those that had gathered at the Heartland Settlement, caught up in their gungho excitement to progress and claim their place in the vacuum he had created on the leaderboards, he left them with a promise.

“Bet I’ll do it again.” Coop remembered his exact words as he responded to Platinum boasting that she would take his spot, beating everyone else to level 500, after Safiri claimed Coop was done for, that he was old news, and it was time to retire for real. “I’ll hit 500 twice, before anyone else makes it once.” Coop had declared.

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“Agh. Why did I say that? I could have finally returned to a normal schedule.” He slid his hand down his face lamenting the loss of a perfect staycation in Ghost Reef.

Safiri, Platinum, Mateo, and several others had managed to find his real weakness. The competitiveness that was hidden deep beneath his casual nature. It was the other half to his simple desire for progression. For Coop, progression and competition were concomitants of internal motivation that fed upon each other. They were some of the underlying forces that had him constantly chasing experience. Seeing his name on the leaderboards was a simple source of undeniable satisfaction.

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Coop’s desires had been enough to manifest an entire evolution. The system, whatever it actually was, had decided that he was touching upon the undying hunger of the Deep Ones imagined by humanity. It seemed like it was fair to say that Coop had a bit of an appetite.

He saw that familiar hunger reflected in the eyes of those visiting the Heartland Settlement. From Sila Tupua to Layla Itunu, Bao Nguyen and ‘Super’ Supitaya, Alex Nova, Tzultacaj, Seki Kitawa, and all the rest; they all awakened the same powerful internal drive to not only survive, but thrive. None of them had made it this far into the assimilation without a spark that kept them motivated, but Coop’s level reset was the final impetus for them to really go for it and fuel that fire.

Looking at the other representatives of humanity made it obvious that Coop wasn’t special at all. Even his own companions from Ghost Reef stoked the same flame, or else it would have been impossible for them to maintain their statuses. He had put them on notice when he could have been like a shark in the depths, lurking until it was time to strike.

Coop let his head drop at the memories, remembering the slight smile Tzultacaj had given him, how Imara’s eyes bore into him, recognizing that he had poked the bear, so-to-speak.

“So many bears.” He muttered.

Instead of steadily progressing during his future days, eating regular meals, exploring the developments of his home, and sleeping in his own bed each night, he had made a bombastic claim that would actually require maximum effort. Before, he had been looking at the climb he needed to make as something he could do steadily, sneaking himself back into striking range while the rest of the world set their own pace. It would have taken an initial burst to rise back into the pack, but once he was close to maybe a hundred levels behind, he could have just cruised with two or three levels a day, just chasing down Slayer titles, to reclaim his position.

The only deadline he had to worry about was the Eradication Protocol, which Lyriel was keeping a blindfolded eye on, but because of his boastful promise, he would have to put the pedal to the metal. His competition had upwards of a 300 level advantage over him. He figured he had around three months if he wanted to prove to himself and to the others that he could actually reach level 500 before anyone else. He wouldn’t put it past Alex Nova or Tzultacaj to gain 200 levels in 90 days. They could probably even do it in less if the subjugation of the Fallen Zone remnants were rewarding enough.

He wasn’t completely without advantages and he was still confident in his build, but he had actually taken what could have been a relatively leisurely time between settlement events and turned it into another trial. He shook his head despondently, doing his best to convince himself that he was just trying another way to be motivational. It seemed like it would work, but it had put the onus of progress back onto him.

But he had a plan that could take advantage of his prior experience. If he just stuck to the plan, his words wouldn’t have been empty. He could definitely be far more efficient than he had been the first time around. All he needed to do was save new Slayer quest chains until he was brushing against the diminishing returns of regular experience from combat.

Once the more convenient grinds slowed down to the point that he was no longer gaining on his competition, he would start hunting down new variants for their Slayer quests. That way, he would bolster his progress, delaying the inevitable slow down in experience gains by supplementing his progress with the levels granted by quest completions. It was the easiest way to circumvent the largest hurdle in climbing the ranks at the top.

The first time around, he had needed the boost in stats granted by Slayer titles to turn his regular attacks into the equivalent of manaless skills right away. Stacking stats had been essential. Now, he already benefited from those investments and he could afford to be more prudent with his experience gains.

However, sticking to the plan was already driving him crazy. He had just been hiking across the country instead of gaining levels, essentially avoiding experience, while the others began their subjugation mission. He wanted to get started already!

Lyriel watched his internal struggle, obviously amused and enjoying his pangs of distress, before finally speaking up. “You have to get stronger anyway. The forces of mana won’t be so kind as to hold back on your behalf.”

“I know.” Coop sighed, calming down a bit under her withering attention. “But now I gotta get like 5 or 6 levels a day for several months to reach my own goals.”

Lyriel’s laugh was always pleasant, even when it was filled with mockery. “5 levels a day, consistently? Impossible. You have no chance. Give up now and focus on something more reasonable. It is not wise to have unreasonable goals. Trust me on that.”

Coop just frowned at her lack of sympathy. “It doesn’t help that I have to chaperone you across a thousand miles of wilderness. Couldn’t you have learned some better movement skills along the way? It’s not that hard, you know?”

“You… Oh! What’s that?” Lyriel was distracted by another unfamiliar animal that fluttered between them, her tone completely changing mid-sentence.

Coop watched its unpredictable path across the small ship for a moment, taking a calming breath before responding to her question. “That’s a monarch butterfly.”

“Ah! How lovely!” Lyriel expressed with child-like enthusiasm that seemed stolen from Coop’s usual attitude.

With the destruction of the Fallen Zone, wildlife that had been missing from the different regions sprouted up from hidden enclaves to the point that at first Lyriel was hesitant to continue their journey. There were too many threats to her level 0 Champion.

It took some convincing for Coop to prove that the animals weren’t necessarily members of hostile factions. In fact, most of them were as independent as he had been before founding the Lighthouse, and many were only hostile toward the Primal Constructs for invading their territory, indifferent to the temporary presence of travelers like them so long as they didn’t encroach on their space. He had to plow forward to prove his words, causing her to chase after him when he left the subjugation armies behind.

Lyriel eventually recognized the extreme biodiversity as a feature of Earth, proud of Malsteron’s correct readings on the planet. Having so many different creatures was an endless source of amusement and fascination to both herself and Palisteon, and Coop ended up spending the majority of his time identifying animals on their behalf.

Paying attention to the wildlife calmed him down while acting as practice for his eyes, so it wasn’t all bad. In fact, if he hadn’t started a competition with all the others, it would have been his ideal manner of travel. They were able to explore environments he hadn’t ever seen before, to which Lyriel relentlessly scolded him for being unfamiliar with parts of his own planet. Though he knew she was underestimating the variance across Earth, he took the criticism to heart, especially since it was coming from someone who was forced off her own planet, never to see it again.

Despite his frustrations, he soaked the scenes in as much as he could, keeping the idea that he might never have another chance to do so in the back of his mind. Once they passed through the steady plains of the Heartland, they made quick progress through Blackland Prairies that rolled into post oak savannas and the Piney Woods. He imagined all the people who had overlooked the uniqueness of their local environments, just passing through on highways, never really appreciating what they had in their backyard. It was a shame, but he still hoped he would be able to preserve it all for those who might survive.

Even though he confidently chose their direction and led Lyriel through the environments, he had no idea how they would actually find Admiral Kayla and her ships in order to catch a ride back to Ghost Reef. They didn’t exactly have a designated rendezvous point in the uncharted lands. When they reached the Gulf Coast, two days after leaving the armies behind, Coop had been surprised to find a boat waiting for them. He wasn’t even sure exactly where they were, somewhere near a completely flooded Houston, he guessed.

Kayla had somehow anticipated his location so perfectly, he thought he was hallucinating the ride for a moment. However, that wasn’t exactly the case. The Tempest Fleet had thousands of ships scattered across the coast, ready to shuttle people across the Gulf. This particular corvette was acting as a taxi that would take himself and Lyriel to board the Eye of the Storm.

Once they exchanged ships, transferring to Kayla’s vessel, Coop relayed a message from Marcus and Shane, requesting that she have her fleet prepare to ferry people across the Mississippi Sea in the coming weeks. Now that the domain had been destroyed, humanity intended to reclaim as much lost territory as possible, and the main geographic challenge would be overcome with Ghost Reef’s navy.

The South, west of the Mississippi, was currently full of millions of human hunters, seeking out the Primal Construct variants that might have hoped to redevelop the neglected area into their stronghold, much like Empress City’s earlier successful efforts through the Everglades of Florida. General McCallister had split the vast armies into smaller squads after Coop provided much needed reconnaissance on the previously hazard-filled alien domain.

Upon learning that the Elite Primal Insurgents, the passive damage effect of the domain, and the previously unknown core boss had all been removed from the equation, General McCallister and Champion Neon shifted their strategy to cover more ground. They recognized that the collection of strength in the Heartland was more than enough to conquer regular variants and come together when greater threats were discovered.

Instead of rolling together, driving toward the heart of the Fallen Zone as a singular force while securing their path back to the edge, they were casting a wide net that would allow them to simultaneously suppress the invaders on a grand scale, squeezing the remnants into a tighter and tighter territory. At the same time, the animals that were returning would be incidental allies, reclaiming their native territory from the aliens that had forced them into hiding in the first place. Still, they all anticipated a long campaign.

After the arrangements were made, Kayla had them plot a straight shot back to Ghost Reef. She didn’t even need to ask about Coop’s level. It seemed like anyone that knew Coop could take one look and recognize that he was in the mood to get grinding as soon as possible.

The familiar bells ringing across Ghost Reef’s harbor set Coop into motion while Lyriel found herself awestruck by the scenes as they approached the fort. The island had evolved, developing into a real fortified bastion compared to the last time she had witnessed it and she peppered Coop with questions regarding the choices that had been made.

When they reached the dock, Coop had Jones give Lyriel the tour, and sent a dozen wraiths off to start a series of quick meetings with various residents that would be able to help him maximize the efficiency of his upcoming grinds. He wanted to make sure things would move quickly once he got started.