[1% LIFESTEAL] Chapter 18 - Above the Mortal Peak

It was the morning after. The two young men sat in Freddy’s kitchen with the doctor’s heart on the table between them, still beating. Mark looked forlorn and underslept, and Freddy looked worse than back when he barely survived the passage break.

Neither of the two had it easy explaining what had happened. Fear of the other’s reaction, the unwillingness to remember the events themselves, and the feeling of loss and despair hindered their communication.

It was already nearly noon, and finally, they were both finished saying what needed to be said.

The academy had retroactively rejected Mark’s sister’s scholarship, and his father had decided to pay for the tuition himself.

It seemed that the ‘journalist’s offer’ had been a threat as well, one that Mark hadn’t taken seriously. The thought never even crossed his mind, as he hadn’t believed that someone powerful enough to pull such strings would care about someone like Freddy.

Mark didn’t know how much money that was, mainly because his father refused to tell him. But it was enough to put their family in dire financial straits, as it couldn’t be covered without a large loan.

And for Freddy, it seemed the doctor had been after his life. The man that had contacted Mark was also likely going to ask more than just a ‘couple of questions.’ Madam learned of both these threats and decided to act before Freddy was harmed.

The still-living organ on the table between them was a brutal warning to Mark. The next time he received another offer, he had to make the same decision again, meaning that his family was now at constant risk of getting into trouble too great to recover from.

His father had made a stupid choice by paying for the tuition himself. But he didn’t have another option. What was he supposed to do, prioritize their finances? In his own words, all he had worked to get was for the sake of his children. If he chose to play it safe, he’d risk tearing a rift between the siblings.

Mark didn’t want to believe that his sister would hate or blame him for this outcome, but… he already hated himself, and he knew damn well none of this was his fault.

Ringing interrupted the silence, and Freddy hesitantly got up to open the door.

Matt, the assistant, greeted him and handed him a medium-sized box. Freddy’s heart nearly burst out of his chest as he opened it, fully expecting a severed head in there or something of the sort, but it was just a collection of pill boxes.

And some pills they were. The list of side effects attached to any of the drugs was so vast that Freddy wondered whether his talent could outpace them before he dropped dead.

Mark somewhat hesitantly pointed at the heart on the table. “While that thing is a threat to me, it's also probably meant as a gift for you.”

“How nice of her,” Freddy responded with a lethargic chuckle. “She must be in love with me.”

Mark scoffed a bit, unable to muster a laugh at the joke. “I am vaguely familiar with what that is, and while it is extremely gruesome… it will help you with your talent.”

The insinuation behind that would usually make Freddy want to vomit, but his emotions felt bleached and weak after all that had happened.

Mark instructed him, and Freddy stabbed a kitchen knife into the mass of flesh. He felt a rush of vitality unlike any he had experienced so far, and once he extracted the blade, the small gash healed almost instantly. As long as he supplied it with raw meat, the heart could recover from anything he did to it.

It was more or less a health battery.

“It isn’t going to last forever,” Mark said, “but it will stay alive for at least another three months.”

Freddy chuckled a bit at that. “Whose heart do you think she’ll give me next?”

Finally mustering a tired laugh, Mark retorted, “Hopefully not mine.”

***

Mark was contractually obligated to train Freddy every day, but he had full control over the schedule.

The gym's second floor was one they hadn’t yet visited as it didn’t have much use for them. Under the excuse that Mark had a few things to show Freddy, they got around to hitting things.

The thuds echoing from Mark’s punches made Freddy’s heart tense, and his small fist-shaped dent on the tree no longer looked like anything worth noting.

Mark took a stance and addressed Freddy, “If you’re basing your martial arts off the  Flowing Strike, then you’ll have to work on big, arching moves with a lot of weight behind them.” He pulled his fist back slightly over his head and readied a strike. The movement that carried most of his body weight ended with the punch landing on the target and sending a resounding thud through the ground, a sensation that got a few other men in the room to sheepishly distance themselves from the blonde man.

“Like this,” Mark said as he followed up with a kick, causing a similar thing to happen.

Although Mark smiled throughout the demonstration, the joy didn’t reach his eyes.

***

Freddy found himself in the forest, punching and kicking the tree full-force. Although it still hurt when he landed an awkward strike, severe injuries from something like this were becoming a thing of the past.

The structure of his hand had changed. His feet no longer looked the same either. And the rest of his body was slowly beginning to change.

Every time he took the time to eat, he ended up salting his meal with his tears. Although he wasn’t letting it hinder his training, he simply couldn’t stop himself from crying. Freddy wasn’t to blame for this. All he had done was what he considered the best choice for his situation.

So why? Why did he feel like what happened to Mark was entirely his fault?

He hadn’t done something stupid like apologize. And he hadn’t done something as naive as trying to offer help. But he had decided. If he ever got the opportunity to, he would find a way to repay Mark for his patience and kindness. All there was left to do now was train.

After getting the tears and aggression out of his system, he finally turned around and spoke, “I know you’re there,” he said to no one in particular. “Madam is clearly keeping an eye on me, so it’s only natural that someone would be watching me from the shadows. You must be incredibly bored, though.

“Why don’t you reveal yourself instead? I’m sure it isn’t all that fun just sitting behind a tree somewhere, fiddling your thumbs. Or maybe you’re dramatically peeling an apple. I don’t mind having an audience, but having someone to talk to while I train would be nice.”

Silence.

Well, it was only natural. Freddy was a hundred percent confident that someone was observing him, and while that didn’t make him feel comfortable, it did make him feel safe, at least.

For the entirety of that day, Freddy talked out loud, trying to bait his observer into the light. Whoever was watching him must be a good fighter, no? In that case, he could possibly extract some advice. And he wasn’t afraid to get annoying.

The politics he had gotten himself wrapped up in was like a chess game. And he was a pawn that had found itself in the right, or perhaps, the wrong spot. Still, he was valuable for one reason or another, and as long as that was the case, Madam would ensure he stayed on the board.

For the whole day, Freddy carried the one-sided conversation. The day after, he did the same thing. And the next day as well. But there was no reply. So, either nobody was observing him or the more likely scenario—they just had no reason to reveal themselves.

***

As the days marched onward, Freddy’s body changed drastically, visibly growing on a daily basis. It didn’t take long for Mark to change their schedule again; this time, he skipped to doing full body every day. It didn’t really matter how many muscle groups they did. Freddy could always perfectly recover by the time he returned the next day.

At first, he was hesitant to consume the drugs, but as he read more about supreme-quality healing, he realized something quite reassuring. Supreme-quality healing had something of a crucial flaw. It was too dilute. It was difficult to contain and focus it, meaning it always healed everything it could in a person’s body.

This was a flaw because an old scar on one’s leg was clearly less of a priority than a missing limb, but the energy would be split between them with little discrimination. Everyone’s body had damage scattered throughout it. This drastically diluted the effect of supreme-quality healing since it simply had too many things to do.

This was why Freddy felt his talent was too slow at the start. But now? He finally realized why Madam called him an immortal freak. Because he was immortal. He had been healed of practically everything that his healing could do. This included the type of micro-damage that was responsible for aging.

Putting the implications of possible eternal life aside, not only did this mean that he healed much faster now since there was less to heal from, but it also meant that there was practically no danger when he consumed steroids. None whatsoever. On top of having no hidden defects that could put him at risk of sudden death, the balance of hormones itself was effortless to re-establish. Perhaps to a fault even.

He gulped down a single pill from every drug he had the moment he returned from all the training since overnight, when he was sleeping, was the only time they could do their job. The instant he stabbed the health bank, his healing would eradicate their presence in his body instantly.

For a while, he chose to temporarily pause his martial arts training for an experiment. It took him roughly three hours to finish a full-body workout. With a half-hour jog to his apartment and back, where he stabbed the heart until he fully recovered and ate a large meal, he could be back and simply continue his training.

Granted, Mark was no longer there, but Freddy was already proficient enough at all the exercises that he at least wasn’t at risk of hurting himself when he was alone. And even if he did hurt himself, well… Who cared?

Freddy pushed himself to his absolute maximum for a while and did four daily workouts. Several people approached him to ask whether he had a talent that allowed him to do this or if he was just trying to kill himself, but he reassured them that it was fine.

Steve, the employee, was the most concerned, and he actually tried banning him from doing this, fearing for Freddy’s life. Given that he almost instantly retracted the ban and appeared vaguely anxious the day after, it was safe to presume that either Madam or one of her assistants gave him a talking-to.

It wasn’t long until Freddy dropped the experiment. The results were impressive, but they weren’t four times more impressive than just a single workout a day. There seemed to be a biological limitation to it that couldn’t be cheated through his talent, at least not any longer.

After around a month, his body weight reached 78kg, an increase of almost 20 from his previous 59. He wasn’t massive by any means, but he was lean, so most of that mass was in muscle.

He could bench 132.5kg, squat 156.5kg, and deadlift 202.5kg. At first, almost every time he exercised, he could increase the weight by several kilograms and still power through it, with the difference being particularly drastic after a night of rest. As time went on, the difference he could reasonably make kept shrinking further until all he could do was add two tiny 0.25kg plates.

It didn’t take him that long until he acquired elite mortal human strength and physique, but the growth had plateaued too hard. He wondered whether he had broken any records with how quickly he grew, but knowing how ridiculous some talents were, he wouldn’t bet on it.

Freddy stood before the mirror in the locker room, observing the changes to his body. It was ridiculously shredded, with body fat way below what should be possible by normal standards. It was to the point where he wondered if any less could actually count as damage and be healed by his talent.

He was extremely pleased with how he had grown, but now it was finally time. After around a month, he reached close enough to what could be called peak mortal human performance.

Now, it was finally time to transcend it.

***

Another week passed, and this time, Freddy was almost entirely focused on his martial arts.

Fueled by Flowing Strike, a wide swing landed on the tree, shaking it a bit and causing the slightest of cracks to appear. Then a kick, and finally a straight.

Nearly all the bark had been stripped off the lowest two meters of the tree Freddy chose as his victim, and it appeared visibly battered, with even some pieces breaking off. It wasn’t enough to make the plant fall over, at least not yet, but it was enough to show just how much work he’d put in.

Freddy wiped some sweat off his brow, then walked over to the biomass that had once resembled a heart. It had healed and grown so much that it no longer appeared like anything more than a freaky pile of flesh. It was no longer beating, either.

A couple of minutes of stabbing later, he was in more or less perfect physical condition.

Freddy walked over to the small pond in the woods, sat next to it, and rather than start meditating, he raised his hand over the water. Essence flowed invisibly from his hand, pouring into the water, and he flexed. The water raised just slightly before dropping, leaving a disturbed surface behind.

Several attempts later, Freddy finally extracted a tiny orb from the water. His excitement instantly collapsed the round structure, but that wasn’t enough to hinder his reaction.

“I did it!” He exclaimed, thrilled at his success.

While his talent was the perfect cheat for boosting his physical growth, he had no such advantage with his essence control. According to Mark, Freddy was somewhat talented for essence control but wasn’t a prodigy.

And now, for the first time, he managed to do something other than just disturbing the water.

He took a moment to enter his ethercosm and observe the result of his efforts.

Four distinct blue specks flickered around his star, which had grown considerably in the last month. The ether shell for Flowing Strike was by far the brightest. But there were several other, much fainter specks flickering in the darkness. He focused on one of them, and it appeared before him.

It looked like a small mass of morphing symbols. It was the absolute start of the formation of an ether shell. If Freddy supplied it with a few water wisps, it would crystallize, and he would acquire another spell.

It would only be capable of briefly materializing an unstable, floating drop of water. As his control grew finer and more stable, he could form the water more liberally, and every specific action he made would contribute to the formation of another ether shell.

So, there was only one thing left to do. He focused on the concept of water, an idea he had grown much more intimate with through all his meditation, and attracted water wisps into his soul. This time, instead of allowing them to enter his star, he moved them to the fledgling shell before him.

They seeped into it without any problem, and the ether shell formed with what looked like a miniature supernova of water drops. Three blue symbols that represented concepts related to water wrapped around an invisible ball, creating a cage of runes. It was far less complex than any of the other shells he had.

Once done, he left his ethercosm, lifted his hand, and materialized a tiny speck of water, which promptly fell to the ground and disappeared.

This was a fundamental spell for water archs. The only reason Freddy wasn’t given a scroll for it was that he absolutely had to make it himself.

It was the Create Water spell. It formed water out of essence without any fancy effects. Naturally, the fake water would disappear, but while there, it was the perfect target for working on one’s essence control and forming other ether shells.

He compared the effects of Create Water to Squirt, and the difference was readily apparent. Create Water was utterly without form, while Squirt directed the water in a thin stream.

But while Squirt was almost impossible to control, Create Water was entirely at Freddy’s mercy. Or, rather, his competence, but he didn’t have much of that.

To focus all his essence on achieving this, Freddy had postponed a critical shopping trip. Now that he was finally done, excitement flowed through his veins.

For a while already, his Water Body Tempering Technique had been utterly useless. Why? Because the water in his body was already in perfect balance. In fact, the tempering technique only ruined it now. It was more than safe to say that he wouldn’t need this ability in the future, so there was only one thing to do.

He got up, walked home, and got dressed in less filthy clothing. Then, he headed to the library.

“Hello, sir,” the clerk greeted him. “Do you require assistance?”

“Yeah,” Freddy confirmed. “I’d like your most dangerous water affinity tempering technique.”