Beyond The System
Chapter 184: Group Tactics

“Everyone died?” Thea asked, her voice tight with disbelief. “Even if you weren’t working together, dozens of people…”

Griffith gave a grave nod. “That’s why I want to move quickly. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I suspect that beast was cultivating too. During the battle, it must’ve breached some kind of barrier… and I’m worried the same thing might happen here.”

I leaned back on my hands, feeling the rough earth beneath me. “If it’s that aggressive, we can’t just ignore it. But—”

The thought had been circling in my head since the beach. Just because nothing had crawled out of the sea and onto the island—maybe thanks to the oppressive pressure or the snake’s presence, didn’t mean something wouldn’t push through now, hungry for a quick bite of me.

“I could try drawing it here,” I offered. “If the energy’s being drawn toward me, it won’t be able to cultivate unless it stays at the pillar. But I don’t know if I’m more enticing than the vein. That thing feels a lot stronger than the first one.”

Griffith stood, the main weight of his story now off his chest. “We should get to training. Our goal this time is coordination, learning how to work with each other properly.”

With a sharp clap of his hands, he summoned us to our feet.

“No need to burn through all our energy,” he continued. “Just use the basics. We all know each other’s techniques by now. As for the front runner…”

He trailed off, eyes scanning the group.

“I’ll be the target,” I volunteered before anyone else could speak. I wanted to hone my instincts, to reach the point where my body moved before thought. And I needed to watch them fight together, learn their rhythm so I wouldn't disrupt it when it mattered.

“Thea, you take point,” Elric said. “If you need to heal, rotate out and let Griffith cover. Then return to Peter. I’ll support with my weapon. Since we’re holding back a little, I won’t be blinding Peter. It’s too much of a mental drain anyway.”

Griffith puffed his chest slightly, surrounding himself with a thin shimmer of brown energy. “Naturally, I’m the tank and coordinator. I’ll step in when the formation needs it.”

Thea crossed her arms with a dry look. “Guess I don’t get a say, huh?” she mock-grumbled, but her eyes gleamed. She was happy, even if she didn’t admit it. Once a battle maniac, always a battle maniac.

Avoid that lightning, Luna murmured in my mind. That stuff stings my petals.

I chuckled. I’ll do what I can. How are things on your end?

Her form uncoiled gently across my arm, petals fanning out until they formed a thin, living layer over the wooden surface. There was a hum to her energy, a vibrating pulse beneath the bark. She felt… excited.

I’m finally sensing something. A barrier in my Spiritual Refinement.

The others began moving into position—Elric, Thea, and Griffith forming a triangle on one side of the crumbling housing ruins, and me alone on the opposite flank.

A barrier is a good thing? I asked, skeptical.

Wyrem’s voice chimed in for her, practically giddy. Of course! A barrier means progress. It’s the wall before the breakthrough. Just a little more pressure and something new will bloom!

...Yeah. That, Luna added, sheepishly. Feeling anything is better than the nothing I’ve had for—I don’t even know how long. Weeks? Months? Once I get through it, I can start strengthening the body again.

Before I could anchor myself fully into the upcoming session, Wyrem left me with one final, pressing thought.

Ask your companions if their Spiritual Sense has grown. We need to understand how the Inner Space is affecting all of you.

“You ready, Peter?” Griffith called, pulling me back to the present.

I rolled my neck with a crack and gave him a nod.

Thea summoned her spear, keeping her lightning in check to my relief, and I’m sure, Luna’s. Elric followed suit, blade floating, tension coiled. Griffith didn’t draw anything.

“Everyone,” he said, voice commanding but calm, “begin.”

Thea dashed forward just as I reached inward, testing the edges of my earlier theory about Spiritual Sense. Drawing it in was surprisingly easy, likely because the island’s spiritual pressure was already compressing it. Her spear came at me, quick and precise, like a serpent striking.

I twisted out of the way, my body flowing with practiced ease, but then something flickered at the edge of sensation. A subtle tingle in my right foot. Something felt off there, but I didn't have time to give it more thought. Thea surged forward, not from her own skill alone. The ground had shifted beneath her.

She grinned, about to capitalize on it, and then—

“AH!”

She pitched forward, momentum dragging her down as she skidded across the ground and landed right at my feet in a cloud of dust.

“Uh… you okay, Thea?”

“Mhm,” she muttered, still lying face-down.

I glanced toward Elric and caught him nonchalantly kicking at the dirt, his floating blade conspicuously absent. That was... unsettling. I hadn’t sensed anything moving toward me, and I trusted my perception. But rather than confront him, I reached down to help Thea. She was whispering under her breath, no language I recognized.

Then she whipped around and glared. “Sir! Next time, a warning would be appreciated!”

Griffith had one hand to his mouth, clearly trying not to laugh. “Sorry, little lady. That’s the point of the training. You’re on the front line, so you need to adapt.”

“Rrrn... Fine,” she growled, brushing herself off with as much pride as she could gather.

“Again!” Griffith shouted.

Thea trotted back to the team, shooting a look at Elric on her way. He was still playing it cool. That calculated nonchalance was starting to itch under my skin. It felt too intentional.

“Beg—”

The word never finished.

Instinct shouted before the command ever came. I leapt as a crack opened beneath me, small enough to pass as a natural split in the ground, but sharp and deliberate in its placement. From the darkness below, a glint of a shard of gold shot upward with terrifying precision.

Thea had moved. The blade skimmed past the hem of my pants, dangerously close to an area I very much intended to keep intact.

A spear followed, spinning end over end toward my chest, trailed by two quick flickers. My body responded before I could think, legs coiling and launching me into the air. It was the first time I truly felt the shift. If before with Elric was just a taste of it, the was the real thing. My instincts surging ahead of thought, driven by raw danger and the jolt of Griffith’s fake start.

Crackle.

Lightning?

Since when did Thea start throwing lightning?

Jumping was all well and good, until a streak of light was moving forward at a speed hardly traceable. My arms lifted above my head, energy moving through them, power coursing through the palm, moving in a controlled, systematic way.

Two arcs of silencing current tore through the air—“AHH!”

The scream tore from my lungs for two reasons. One: Thea’s bolt of lightning was hard to track, because it was in fact, very fast. Two: Just before the bolt struck me, I was pulled toward the ground as if gravity had doubled, allowing my face to bear the full brunt of the electrical blast.

Thanks for moving. I really don’t like lightning, Luna said, voice grateful through the bond.

“Ughhh...” I groaned, peeling myself out of the shallow crater I’d created. No problem. Glad I could help.

“Guess we’re tossing out ‘be quiet,’” Elric called.

Thea rushed over, concern fighting with a grin until she got a good look at me. She froze, shoulders beginning to tremble.

“I’m so, so sorry, are you—Pfft—” Her voice broke as she burst into a stifled laugh. “Your hair. It—it’s standing up... I’m so glad I haven’t cut it yet,” she choked out, shaking with silent chuckles.

I dusted myself off with exaggerated dignity and gave her a withering stare. “I’ve got a few follow-up questions we can deal with later, but first, how’s my face?”

That stopped her laughter cold. She gave me a strange, unreadable look.

And before I could press to hopefully receive a likely kind, maybe unconvinced answer, Elric jumped in, ever helpful.

“No uglier than usual, man! Don’t worry, even if you’re horribly disfigured, I’ll still follow you.”

Thea rolled her eyes, grinning as she tossed a comment over her shoulder, a callback to yesterday’s conversation. “The guy you're pining over's coming around. You should be happy.”

I gave her a tired smile as she turned and made her way back to her position.

“You did good, Peter,” Griffith said, nodding toward me with approval. “But don’t lean too far into instinct. It’s the same problem as before, just flipped around. You used to overthink everything. Now you’re not thinking at all. Neither extreme is going to keep you alive.”

I like this man, Wyrem said with a warm tone.

I exhaled, the sigh carrying a familiar weight. The burden of wisdom offered by two inhuman beings whose advice always seemed so easy to agree with… and so hard to apply.

We resumed the session without delay. Elric set up ambushes, his floating blades appearing from strange angles and impossible gaps. Thea adjusted to the new rhythm, learning how to move with those blades darting around her and the ground shifting beneath her feet. Griffith barked orders and corrections without missing a beat, switching fluidly between instruction and intervention.

Sometimes it was encouragement: “Don’t be afraid of Elric’s blades—he’ll adapt to your flow.”

Other times, it was sharp correction: “Elric, pay attention to your teammates. Putting pressure on Peter just to knock Thea out isn’t strategy, it’s sabotage.”

And of course, there was always something for me: “Stop fixating so much on the weapons. The daggers and the spear are deadly, yes, but if your footwork breaks under my pressure, you’re done. That’s where you die.”

Hours blurred together. Mistakes piled up, each one necessary. Under the pressure, even Thea and Elric started to sweat, panting as their movements slowed. Griffith and I more so. The ground bore our marks. Scorches, divots, and cracks scoured the area, but in the end, we found a rhythm.

They kept attacking with efficiency and unity, and I kept up. Every strike countered. Every movement refined. My energy flowed cleanly now with no wasted effort or failed responses.

“Alright,” Griffith said finally, raising both hands to call a halt. “Let’s rest. Gather whatever energy you can.”

His eyes lifted to the horizon. The sky had begun to darken, the light fading into a bruise-colored twilight.

“Tomorrow,” he said, voice solemn, “we attack.”

And with that, Wyrem spoke once more, his tone deeper, touched with grandeur and expectation.

Tomorrow, you capture my descendant.

Next chapter is the big fight!

If you’d like to support me on Patreon, it truly helps me keep this story going!