Grand Saint Alloy

Tristan dreamed about being a mighty warrior standing on a castle of iron that cast its shadow over the whole world. In this dream the castle was flying because he was powerful enough to levitate the whole structure. It was a pleasant dream, one where he was free, it also came to a cataclysmic end. Tristan spluttered awake as something very cold and wet was dumped on his face.

“Wakey, Wakey, don’t be lazy,” A familiar voice said.

“I’m awake,” Tristan was definitely awake, no way could he sleep through that.

Luke was standing over Tristan with a disappointed expression. Beside him was an empty bucket and one full of water, while in his hands he held a second one ready. Tristan was glad he woke up with the first one. Luke shrugged and before Tristan could ask why, his frenemy dumped the other bucket on him.

“What was that for!” Tristan yelled.

“So this is my first time waking someone up, so I brought an extra bucket just in case. Would have been a waste not to use it,” Luke said. Then he dumped the final bucket on Tristan.

“Stop it, I said I’m awake!” Tristan was not a morning person. He woke up slowly, but he was definitely awake now, “How long did we sleep?”

He rolled out of his soaked bed and could see sunlight through the doorway, but that only told him that the sun was up. During the summer, a combination of the caldera’s elevation and longer days meant the sun could rise as early as four thirty in the morning. During those times of the year it would shine directly into the bunkhouse.

“You slept for about two hours, I needed to wake you up so I got a little less than that,” Luke said, “You should be grateful for my self sacrifice.”

Tristan swore at Luke in his head. They had gone to sleep at around two in the morning which meant it was about four thirty then. Many of the miners would already be at work. Start early finish early was the mantra of the base camps occupants. Those coming from elsewhere would generally arrive at around six.

“Why did you want to get up so early?” Tristan asked.

Luke frowned, “You said you wanted to fight like me, if so, then your almost ten years late.”

Tristan nodded, “I do, you said I won’t have the option to quit.”

He knew that it was a decision made out of emotions, but it was a decision that he needed to make. That was why Tristan was glad that this did not rely on only his own dedication. He had not done anything particularly grueling or difficult in his life. If it was up to him, he was not sure he would be able to finish, Tristan would use the almighty power of peer pressure to get results.

Luke led Tristan out of the bunk house and out of the base camp. It was still twilight out here, the sun only a sliver on the horizon. Fortunately they were standing on the road, so at least there was nothing to trip on.

“Are we just going to skip breakfast?” Tristan asked, looking back at where the breakfast table was set up.

“No, breakfast is from five to seven, unless it takes you more than two hours to finish you’ll get your food,” Luke said.

He was stretching out his muscles, Tristan tried copying him, but was barely able to touch his toes, “what will we be doing?”

Luke rotated his upper torso around to stretch his back, “I will run with you towards the Forest Caldera, when I feel we have gone far enough, we’ll come back for breakfast.”

Tristan could only stare at Luke wondering if he had somehow forgotten about the fact that half of his left lung was made of scar tissue. How was he supposed to accomplish long distance running. He would be coughing up blood within the first mile.

Luke smirked at him, “what, you wanted this to be easy. Nothing worth anything is easy.”

With that he turned and started jogging away. Tristan quickly found out that Luke’s jogging was his running. The older boy was a head taller and leagues ahead in terms of physical fitness. However, all Tristan could do was grit his teeth and run after Luke. He did not slow down for any reason. The worst part was that Luke was not being pushed at all, which meant that he could go all day.

What followed was one of the most miserable experiences of Tristan’s life. Getting stabbed was probably the worst, but it still felt like someone was shoving a needle into his side. When he mentioned it to Luke, hoping for sympathy, all he said was that it was weakness leaving the body. Tristan was not sure about the medical validity of that sentiment, but he lacked the breath to argue the point.

Tristan quickly lost track of time and minutes felt like hours, however the sun had just cracked the horizon. He had to stop to catch his breath frequently, but every time he did Luke urged him on as if breathing were a crime. At one point Luke even ran backwards urging him on, he made it look so easy. Tristan assumed that he was trying to encourage him, but it felt more like an insult.

After some indeterminate period of time, Luke stopped and removed a small knife from his belt. Tristan was still catching up when he stabbed his knife into a rock. He almost tripped from the shock, no way a low tier kern would let you casually shank a rock. Essence would naturally empower the body, it was why no one ever heard of a person with a tier zero kern cutting down a tier two or three kern, the physical gap was simply to great.

Luke removed the knife and inserted a wooden spoon, before crossing his arms and waiting for Tristan. When Tristan approached Luke yelled, “So, we have gotten half way done, breakfast is a chunky soup, bring that spoon back it you want it.”

With that Luke sprinted back, presumably to get himself breakfast. Tristan cursed him in his heart, because he lacked the breath to do it out loud. When he reached the spoon, he found a rough ‘T’ had been carved in the handle. Tristan realized that if he returned without it Grace would most likely refuse to give him food. He glared over his shoulder as Luke departed. His sprint was extremely fast, the entire run that took Tristan half an hour would probably only take a handful of minutes.

Tristan sighed and pulled the spoon out and started the run back. It was more of a jog and full of coughing fits, but there was no way he was going to miss breakfast. Tristan focused on his feet and started counting steps, it did not work as a way to speed him up, but it helped him zone out. Obstructions were harder to see, but the less he paid attention, the less the sharp pain in his side hurt.

Eventually the base camp came into view, and he saw most of the men seated around the table had already left to start their work day. However the ones who were left grinned as he approached, Tristan felt like it was condescending after what he had been through. In reality it was just the simple happiness one feels when seeing someone try and succeed.

Luke however, did not even look up from his food. He already knew that Tristan could and would make it back, after all he had set the halfway point to make it hard, not impossible. There was another bowl beside him and another ‘T’ was carved into the wood, so the spoon and bowl were a set.

Tristan flopped down next to Luke and started inhaling his food, “I am glad that’s over.”

Luke started laughing, “So, you thought that was hard. Guess what, we’re doing it every morning.”

Tristan’s horrified expression only made him laugh harder. Every day, Tristan could barely imagine doing that again once. Unfortunately for Tristan, Luke was not done speaking.

“Also that was just a warm up, we have to work out every muscle, and also teach you how to defend yourself,” Luke grinned evilly ass he said this.

“I assume this is also every day?”

Luke nodded, “If you want to stand at the top, you need to be willing to give everything you have and a little bit more to stand there.”

Tristan snorted, there was no way he could ever stand at the top. At least not in the Caldera, there were no artifacts for him to assimilate, so there was no way for him to progress. A tier zero, especially a metal kern zero, would never be permitted to grow in tiers. Tristan had to chosen his natural physique to be what he improved. The most physically fit tier zero would match an average tier one.

Tristan nodded, the picture of Shadow Fist kicking him, the Golden Heart kid kicking him, the Grand Elder Sai trying to kill him. He needed to be prepared for people like them.

“Alright, then everything I have and a little more sounds good,” Tristan said.