Loopbreaker

Francis had endured two days of ugly looks, snide remarks, and neglect. Classes were unremarkable, and Francis chose to remain quiet, simply listening to the lecturers discuss topics he had never encountered before.

His instructors seemed content that Francis had learned his place, and the books he was supposed to have read became new challenges at night.

Lunch and dinner were always the same. He sat alone.

Whatever had been said to everyone, they didn’t come to the table that was now known as Francis’. Derrek had stared him down once before turning away, his brother’s misshapen ear a sign to all that Francis had won that battle. Even when the place was packed, due to some special roasted meat and desserts, none of the students who couldn’t find an empty seat risked joining him.

That ended when Francis stood before Oidrun Flistrave and seven other people he didn’t recognize.

“Ahh, just on time! I have been waiting for this moment!” his instructor exclaimed.

Seeing the smile on the large man’s face, Francis felt a little awkward as the rest of his class wasn’t there.

“Did I miss a note that class was canceled?” Francis asked.

“Hah, if only! No, they are all off running. I had them informed that today would be the worst day of running they’ve had in a while. But don’t worry, Francis, I’ve got something special for you.”

The man turned and pointed at the group behind him.

A frown was on most of their faces but what stood out was the one man who wore mage robes.

“Before you stand, Claudius Farhnoum,” Oidrun said. “A gifted son of the Farhnoum family and versed in the ways of magic. The others are all healers, here to aid you in what is to come.”

“You realize I think this is foolish,” the dark-haired mage said. “What you promised me better come.”

“Oh, it will, just give me a moment,” Oidrun said as he grabbed Francis’s shoulder and led him a few yards away. “Now listen. How would you like to try and acquire a special skill?”

Francis nodded slowly. “Why do I feel like a wolf leading a lamb into the woods and saying everything will be okay?”

Laughing, his instructor banged that massive hand on Francis’s back. “Because it’s true! You see, Claudius is going to hurt you with magic and they are going to take turns healing you.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Francis coughed.

“He hurts you and they heal you. The goal is to see if we can’t get you magic resistance.”

“Wait… what?” Francis stuttered. “How… how did you decide this was something we should try?”

“Honestly, Mr. Lancaster, I didn’t until after your little altercation with those boys the other day. While some of the other instructors and I were discussing that and a few other things, someone mentioned how you’d be gone if a mage had decided to attack you. I might have laughed, and they glared at me but didn’t retaliate because they know I’m different.”

“Different how?” Francis asked.

The large man laughed and shrugged. “I’m crazy,” Oidrun said. “Pain is something I see as the gateway to growth. Very few are like you and I.”

Francis shook his head, certain he was dealing with a crazy man.

“So what now? Claudius will hurt me and I’ll get the skill? Like how quickly?”

“Oh, maybe four or five months if things go quickly,” his instructor replied. “These things take time.”

“Four or five months?” Francis gasped. “You’re going to have him do magical attacks on me for that long?”

“Oh no, I’ve got a few others who will help. Trust me, you’ll hate every moment of it until the day you acquire the skill.”

“And what makes you think I can?” Francis asked.

“Call it one crazy man to another,” Oidrun stated. “I see the way you move and how you act. The fact that you fought off eight, twenty, or the entire dorm from the rumors swirling around means you can endure the pain. Toss in how long you lasted on my little contraption and I think you’ll have the tolerance and mental fortitude needed for something like this.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You’ll get it soon enough,” Oidrun said. “Now, do you want to take a chance to try and acquire something that can save your life, or do you want to stick with the same routine all the others are doing? Do you want to stand out, or fade into the background?”

The decision was easy, even if the method seemed insane. Francis had come here to get stronger and acquire new skills. Even if the method seemed off, it made sense to try it, knowing that he could always repeat the process.

Sighing, Francis nodded. “Let’s get it started.”

“Excellent! Now, strip to just your underclothes and stand over there,” his instructor stated.

“I’m sorry, what?”

We don’t want to ruin your clothes, and I’m not going to waste armor on this.”

Without bothering to put up an argument, Francis started taking off his clothes, soon standing in just his underclothes at the spot marked with an X on the stone.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Good! Now turn around so Claudius doesn’t accidentally hit your face! If it’s too bad, just let me know and I’ll get a healer to help!”

Taking a deep breath, Francis turned and held up a thumb.

Before he could lower his hand, Francis’ back felt like the skin on it was being ripped off by hundreds of fingernails. Unable to hold back, he cried out in pain.

“Healers!” Oidrun shouted.

One of the summoned healers ran up, and Francis tried not to groan as the man sent a wave of cold through his body.

“You two are crazy,” the healer muttered. “Absolutely crazy.”

Catching his breath, Francis nodded. When he was alone on the spot again, he reflected on what was about to happen.

I need to get stronger. I need to be strong enough to save Michael. Save this stupid kingdom.

Holding his thumb up, Francis clenched his jaw and butt cheeks, knowing what was about to come again.

***

“No more!” Oidrun called out as the last healer gave out after taking care of the wounds he had suffered.

Francis glanced at the stone around him. Burnt flesh, frozen muscle, a slurry of blood and gore were everywhere around the space he stood.

Claudius was panting, sweat running down his face, and his black hair was matted to his head. “I… I gained a point. Impossible,” the mage said between breaths. “Do you know how long it’s been?”

“Yes, which is why I made that wager,” Oidrun replied with a grin. “I guess you’ll be content to come the next time I ask?”

“Yes, of course, “Claudius replied. He moved to where Francis was and bent down. “For what it’s worth, that was… incredible. Even with me taking it easy, you managed to withstand what most couldn’t.”

“I doubt that,” Francis replied.

Multiple times during the thirty or forty minutes of torture, people had come to see what was causing all the screaming. None stayed more than a minute before leaving.

“No, I’m serious,” the mage said. “We’re not often allowed to practice on others because of… how bad it hurts.”

“Which is why one has to have the skill he has,” Oidrun said. “Now then, if you will excuse us, I need to get Mr. Lancaster washed off and dressed. He’s got another class in an hour, and I still have some things I want to do with him.”

Francis shook his head, seeing an evil-looking grin on his physical instructor’s lips. “More?”

“Yes,” Oidrun replied. “Now get dressed. We need to talk while we walk. The water is over there. Just jump in a few times and use a rag to wipe off the blood. And don’t bother to dry off too much. You’re just going to get dirty soon enough.”

Nodding, Francis moved toward the giant container of water that constantly drained. Everyone came here to wipe down or wash off the sweat, blood, and dirt that had been acquired via the painful lessons. As instructed, Francis just climbed in, dunking himself a few times and rubbing his body as best as he could with his hands.

The cold water made his skin tingle, but it didn’t bother him after the training he had endured.

Four more points of pain resistance… And the next tier. It feels incredible. Deaths Dance also leveled up twice.

Toweling off quickly, Francis got dressed and jogged to where Oidrun was waiting.

“You reached a new rank, didn’t you?”

“Not going to buy me a drink first?” Francis asked.

“Sorry, it’s frowned upon for instructors to drink with students,” Oidrun stated. “Only for really special occasions, but we both know you hit a new tier as you stopped crying out as much. Claudius had to cast longer than I had anticipated before I made him stop multiple times.”

That’s because my Deaths Dance ability kept activating…

“Yeah, it ranked up,” Francis said. “What I want to know is why you have scars all over and I don’t?”

His trainer grunted, still walking toward a weird, grey wooden box in the corner of the courtyard near the walls.

“Because most of my suffering was done when a healer wasn’t nearby,” Oidrun said. “I know you and the rest think those lessons on battle first aid are worthless, expecting some healer to come and take care of you, but trust me, knowing how to keep a wound clean, cauterize someone, use maggots for an injury, or just learning to sew flesh together can save your life or someone else’s. Don’t ignore it. I’m living proof.”

Francis knew Oidrun was right. Michael had gotten hurt on one of their travels and Francis had found different plants that he knew would help keep an infection away. Traveling and working as they did meant they couldn’t afford a healer to tend any injury they acquired.

“Now then, let me show you the next little thing on my list,” Oidrun said as he tapped the four-foot-tall container on top. It was at least ten feet long and six feet wide, but tiny holes were drilled into different spots. A small opening with a metal plate and lock was on the side facing the courtyard.

“In here are a few… insects that are not ones most want to play with. Their bite can be… painful, but that isn’t the real problem.” Taking a key out of the pouch on his hip, Oidrun removed the lock and then grinned. “Watch.”

He opened the plate and a screech came from inside even before he stuck his hand in the opening. The scampering of multiple things moving along the wooden box sent chills up Francis’s spine, as he immediately knew what was inside the container. Oidrun gave a single grunt, and after a few seconds, he shook his arm multiple times before quickly pulling his hand out and sliding the plate back in place. Holes were on his fingers and hand, purple liquid mixed with the red blood dripping onto the stone tiles.

“Those are skarver spiders,” Francis muttered. “You… let yourself get bitten by them? Poison Resistance?”

“Smart boy,” Oidrun replied, leaning against the box and taking a few large breaths. “These are not as strong as some others as they are older and I have workers who feed and drain their poison at regular intervals. Still, it packs a punch and if I’m honest, it sucks. Just be glad these aren’t wild ones or a newly hatched pod. Those would inject so much poison into you that your heart would stop. Now then, do you want to give this a go?”

Francis found himself blinking at the oversized man. “You just… with no healer? How many students do you do this with?”

“Bah, it’s not that bad and I only let you keep your hand in there a few seconds. At worst, you’ll be down for the day. Just don’t let more than one or two bite you before pulling your hand out.”

Even though he wasn’t concerned about the poison having the same impact as he already had the skill, Francis couldn’t believe what Oidrun was casually trying to get him to do. “How high is your poison resistance?”

A chuckle and a smile appeared on his trainer's lips. “Why, Mr. Lancaster, aren’t you going to buy me a drink first?”

Laughing, Francis shrugged and moved to where the metal plate was.

“Now, don’t be a fool and make me yank you free,” Oidrun said. “If one of these escapes because I have to babysit you, we’ll have fewer of these moments, do you hear?”

Francis nodded and slipped the metal plate up, hearing the same shrill sound from before.

Plunging his hand in, fangs quickly bit down on Francis’ finger and the side of his hand. Another bite came and then another.

[ Poison resisted ]

[ Poison resisted ]

“Pull it out!” Oidrun shouted, reaching for him.

Not wanting to upset the man, Francis did as he was told, pulling his hand free and sliding the metal plate back into place.

Five sets of fang bites were scattered along his fingers and hand, and his trainer cursed, moving to the side of the crate and fumbling with a key and a lock.

[ Poison Resistance Increased - 13 ]

“Stupid fingers,” the man muttered, the poison obviously affecting his coordination.

“I’m fine,” Francis said, shaking his hand, which was covered in red and purple liquid. “Look.”

Francis started to dance and then jumped a few times, watching the older man’s eyes widen. Oidrun was kneeling next to the wooden crate, key stuck in a lock Francis could now see as he got closer to him.

“You… how…” Oidrun choked on his words and then jumped to his feet, almost falling over as his coordination seemed off. “You have it already!”

“Perhaps,” Francis said with a grin. “Though, to admit that would mean you’re probably going to find other ways to make me suffer.”

The loudest laughter the oversized trainer Francis had ever heard echoed off the stone walls near them. “Boy, I changed my mind! You and I are going to have a drink, and we’re going to test all the things I’ve wanted to if you’ll let me!”