[STT] Chapter 81: Perception (Patreon)

Martin POV

"There were others in the trees, we never saw them. I swear. It can't be that kid." The blubbering idiot trembled in fear under Martin's gaze, making him wonder why he was so afraid. Martin wasn't going to eat him. He wasn't a monster.

"You're useless." 

"I'm sorry, sir!"

"I sent you three to teach that brat a lesson, and you come back saying you don't know what happened? You're peak Tier 1 ascenders! He's just a commoner Tier 1! There were three of you! How in the hells did you fail so miserably?"

So Theodore wasn't just teaching the brat. He'd given him bodyguards. Dogs, the lot of them, hiding in trees, eh?

Martin was sure of it.

The commoner wouldn't have been able to lay a hand on these three without help, and he couldn't let something like that go. Not after being disrespected like that.

He'd thought the boy would have some sense beaten into him, but he'd underestimated Theodore's protection.

Fine.

Dogs couldn't follow him into a duel, could they? If Martin challenged the boy to a duel, they wouldn't be able to interfere, and he could teach the boy himself.

Now, while he needed no reason to challenge to a duel, he would prefer there being one, so he had to come up with something.

"But—but sir—I just told you—there were others—"

"Don't give me that! No one was near Ben when it happened, was there? They hit you all from a distance. So how were you not able to hit Ben in the meantime even once?"

"We just—"

"Shut up. You're going to see someone to heal that nose. Don't embarrass yourself and my House by walking around with a bruised face. Now get out of my sight. I'll think about your punishment later."

"Healer?"

Martin scoffed. "Do I have to take you there myself?"

His lackey scrambled to his feet and ran out of the tent as fast as he could. Martin sighed and sat back in his chair, rubbing his forehead.

He had assumed his three thugs would be able to handle a single Tier 1, but apparently, they were only good for looking tough, not actually being tough.

He'd have to handle this himself. It wasn't ideal, but the kid needed to learn his place. Especially if he was going to continue being this defiant. Martin wouldn't be able to stand it if he kept running his mouth.

Maybe he'd just beat the kid until he apologized. Or he could just challenge him to a duel. That was a noble's right, after all.

There was no rule about challenging a Tier 1, it just wasn't done usually. But with this kid, Martin didn't care. He would take any opportunity to put him in his place.

He clenched his fists. A while later, the blubbering idiot returned without getting healed, with the other two behind him.

"Sir, I'm sorry but they... won't heal me."

Martin raised an eyebrow. "They refused you? Why?"

"The healer was busy healing—"

"Then you insist! What is going on with you? Since when did you turn so idiotic."

Furious, Martin grabbed the idiot and dragged him to the healer. Despite being peak Tier 1, he couldn't resist as his feet left the ground and he was dragged flailing. He stopped trying after a while. 

Inside the healer's tent, he made his presence known to the peak Tier 2 healer.

"I would like some healing for my friend here."

The healer frowned, giving him a once over, before he focused on the lackey. "I told your friend that I'm busy with this person here, and that his injuries are more severe." He gestured to a bed where an unconscious person was bleeding all over the place. "He needs my attention right now."

"I don't care about that. You can heal him later. He doesn't have a House name, while my friend does. Now, heal him." Martin couldn't recognize the man on the bed so it had to be some random lesser noble.

"I can't do that."

"Excuse me? What do you mean you can't?"

"This person needs my attention now. He's bleeding out. I'll heal your friend as soon as I can."

Martin smiled kindly and stepped closer, slinging his arms around the Tier 2. "Listen here, you stupid bastard," he whispered as he tightened his grip. "You will do as I say."

The healer struggled, finding his strength lacking, but still held firm. "I am a licensed healer, and I have my own code to follow. I will not leave someone on the brink of death to heal a bruised nose."

Martin's smile widened. "As you wish."

He let go of the healer, and the man stumbled, gasping for breath as he rubbed his neck, looking at Martin warily. He looked afraid, but had quite the backbone for a healer.

In a moment, an invisible force picked up the man on the bed and threw him away, and he rolled to a stop. As that happened, Martin's lackey sat on the bed, waiting for the healer to fix his nose.

"See? Now there's no one to heal."

He wasn't a monster, so he left the injured man untouched. The healer could see to him after.

The healer gritted his teeth, but there was nothing he could do. Martin smiled in victory as the healer began healing his lackey, a thought rising in his head.

I should've gone to Marcus.

But then again, Marcus wasn't someone he could push around so easily. Marcus's House held weight, while this healer was only a member of Martin's House.

It was interesting he refused to heal whoever Martin said he should, though. So he was going to have to look into this guy a bit.

Once his people were healed, they walked back to their tent, Martin's mind working. "I need you to find more about that healer." He said to one of his lackeys.

"Sir?"

"Just do it. If he wants to act high and mighty, I'll knock him down a few pegs."

"Of course, sir."

"And set something up with Ben. I want to challenge him to a duel. I'll teach him a lesson myself."

The lackeys nodded, and Martin felt satisfied. It shouldn't take much, all they had to do was get some girl cry harassment and he could challenge quite easily with the public on his side.

After all, no one cared if the accusation was true, perception was what mattered. And right now, Ben needed to be knocked down a peg. And Martin was the perfect person to do it.

###

Ben POV

With the nobles handled Ben had decided to hide for a bit in the forest [Lurking] around, then returned home to his tent with Marcus, where the older teen had explained some things to him about advancement he didn't think about.

Like how he had to take his time to acclimatize to his new strength, because if he didn't, he could hurt himself or someone else.

Or that the black gunk was actually all of the impurities in his body that were broken down and filtered out, so he would be a bit healthier now, and that he should expect to feel hungrier and to have a higher appetite.

"Higher appetite?"

"Yes, what, did you think the higher tier you are the less you have to eat?"

"...yes."

Marcus laughed. "Unfortunately no. Your body needs way more resources to maintain your strength. And the higher you go, the more resources it'll need."

Frowning at that logic, Ben shook his head. That didn't match his experience at all.

"That's completely backwards. When I hit Tier 1, my appetite died. I just assumed the mana acted as the sustenance, or maybe my body got ridiculously efficient. Even you don't eat if I'm not cooking. Come to think of it, I've never seen anyone in this camp actually sit down for a normal meal!"

Marcus just stared at him for a second.

"You were half right."

Ben listened intently.

"Tier 1 doesn't magically build you a brand-new body. It just fills up the original shell you were born with."

Gesturing to his own chest, Marcus continued.

"The essence goes into your core, the core links to the world tree, and then mana just flows through the exact same body. Nothing gets rebuilt."

Ben nodded in agreement.

No black gunk at Tier 1.

"So the mana just feeds you?"

"Exactly. A body running on magic costs less to keep alive than a mortal one. So a Tier 1 eats less than a Tier 0 since the body is kind of the same."

Marcus gave him a pointed look.

"And you've got way more mana in you than anyone your Tier should have. Of course you stopped getting hungry."

Blinking in realization, Ben absorbed that.

"But Tier 2 is the first time the body actually undergoes a rebirth. It breaks everything down and rebuilds it stronger."

Thinking back to the disgusting black gunk squeezing out of his pores, Ben grimaced.

"A stronger engine burns way more fuel. The mana is still helping feed you, but the shiny new body's physical upkeep completely outpaces what the magic can cover by itself."

Crossing his arms, Marcus drove the final point home.

"Tier 1 fills what you were born with. Tier 2 builds you a new one, and the new one is hungrier than the old one even with the mana. Every Tier after this rebuilds you again. It only gets worse from here."

Ben frowned.

"Then why does nobody eat lunch? You never eat lunch. If you're all starving, where are the food lines?"

Reaching into his spatial ring, Marcus held up a tiny, unassuming pill with a smile. "Nutrition pills. Everyone in the camp practically lives on them. Our bodies need massive amounts of food, but nobody has the hours required to sit at a cook's pot four times a day just to chew. You swallow a pill, your stomach stops screaming, and you go back to swinging a sword."

Flipping the pill back into his ring, the noble shook his head.

"You would never get anything done otherwise. I hadn't eaten a real, hot meal in months because of it."

Remembering how the noble had practically inhaled his stew a few days ago like a starving dog, Ben felt a sudden wave of understanding.

Ah.

That completely explained the ravenous table manners Marcus usually had.

"Where do you even get those?"

"The academy supplies its students. The Houses supply their people."

….Wait.

Staring at the spot where the little pill had just been, Ben quickly connected the dots. He didn't have an academy. And he definitely didn't have a House to bankroll his groceries.

So his shiny new Tier 2 body was about to start demanding a lot more meals a day, and he had absolutely no magical pills to cheat the system.

Depression ensued at the thought, so he moved away from Marcus and sat down to work on his constructs to gain that last level of [Mana Construct] so he could evolve it.

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