Shaman - Monkey Facing the Sacred World

What!

A shaman, a professional charlatan, is now talking about two-dimensional planes and three-dimensional space?

Where exactly have I been dumped? Is the Sorrow Mountains really populated by people who barely graduated from prenatal education?

Kas pondered for a long time, sensing that Baize's smile held a deeper meaning, but with only 5 points of intelligence, he seemed unable to deduce the truth.

Extremely hesitant and uncertain, he replied, "Planes and space?"

Baize suddenly slammed his hand onto the table, shattering a corner of the round table into sawdust with a loud bang, looking utterly shocked:

"You're a damn genius, Kas!"

The shaman coughed twice, reminding himself to stay calm.

In the Sorrow Mountains, where everyone barely graduated from prenatal education—and some even dropped out—being able to distinguish between a plane and space was truly moving.

He set down the paper and the cubic ore, then poured two glasses of malt ale with a sigh:

"It seems Shaman Hadi has an excellent apprentice."

What on earth is this about?

I know what 2D and 3D are, but what does that have to do with the Great Shaman? Besides, I'm not that old pervert's apprentice anyway.

Taking a sip of ale, Baize became more talkative, explaining the theory he had just mentioned in a remarkably clear tone:

"When apes descended from the trees, during the era of the Visma Empire, a brilliant wizard-scholar appeared among the Southerners. He creatively proposed a theory regarding human origins, suggesting that all humans evolved from apes."

Kas raised an eyebrow, feeling that something was wrong. Even a fool wouldn't say this in a world where gods and spirits manifest—

You and your Ancestor, and countless ancestors before him, are essentially monkeys.

This brother... is a bit extreme.

"Of course, he was executed by the priests of the Visma Empire, but the shaman ancestors of that time found the theory interesting. It seemed to explain how apprentices could learn to accept a world filled with spirits."

"Ignorant apes climbed among the treetops, their four hands moving nimbly through the branches, seeking food, pursuing mates, and raising offspring. Their eyes could only perceive forward and backward or up and down simultaneously, much like ants crawling on a tree trunk acting as a central axis. The ape was a plane attached to the movement of space; its nature prevented its perception from extending into a wider dimension."

"But when the apes left the treetops and straightened their spines, they suddenly discovered that their vision could extend upward, downward, to the left, and to the right. They were cast into an entirely unfamiliar world without warning, facing mountains, rivers, rocks, trees, stars, the sun, the moon, and the sky—all of which are the external manifestations of formless spirits."

"A shaman is like an ape falling from the treetops to the ground. The shackles that once constrained our vision disappear. We can perceive the sacred things hidden within the external manifestations of the earth, the spirits, and the sky, and pray for their manifestation in the mortal realm."

"You must learn to adapt to an entirely unfamiliar environment, listen to the ethereal echoes in your ears, find the spirits that resonate with you, and interpret their calls to guide your people forward."

Although the shaman spoke in a very mystical way, Kas found it even more confusing. He had always thought shamans were just tribal versions of necromancers and druids, but Baize kept drifting into what sounded like theology.

Can't you just write an Introduction to the Concept of Spirits? I just want to know what a "spirit" is, but you've said a whole lot of nothing.

Could it be that my intelligence really is only 5 points?

Kas stared blankly and stammered:

"Um, Shaman Baize, could you be a bit more... clear? Like the introductory courses for Southern wizards, where they mutter a few words and make a gesture to shoot a fireball?"

Compared to being a warrior, he still wanted to be a wizard, or even a warlock would suffice.

While fighting as a warrior was blood-pumping, it always involved rolling in the mud, and combined with his status as a barbarian, it just felt even more lowly.

"I understand your desire to use spirits to gain power, but every shaman's path is different. If you want to learn sorcery..." Baize shrugged under Kas's expectant gaze:

"According to the rules established among shamans, I cannot proactively teach another shaman's apprentice."

"I am not Shaman Hadi's apprentice, why can't you teach me?"

"You already are..." Baize still didn't finish his sentence. He picked up the cubic ore from the round table to personally demonstrate why this rule existed.

The shaman's thick palm held the ore, and a spiritual light suddenly ignited in his eyes. His lips moved slightly, as if he were communicating with the object in his hand.

The pitch-black iron ore turned crimson at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the intense heat made Kas's cheeks sting slightly.

The iron, molten like lava, deformed silently in Baize's hands, turning into a cone, then a brick, and finally into a smooth, round, crimson iron ball the size of an egg.

Baize reached out, letting Kas touch it himself.

He tentatively touched the iron ball that was distorting the air with its high temperature, only to find it ice-cold to the touch.

In disbelief, Kas gripped the iron ball and poured malt ale over its surface. The scorching heat caused the liquid to evaporate instantly, and a hissing sound erupted along with white smoke.

The scalding liquid sliding into his hand reminded him that this iron ball, which defied common sense, was no hallucination.

"This is not sorcery. I prayed to the spirit hidden within the ore, asking it to become a scorching iron ball that would not harm people."

"The path of the shaman is different. I do not know Elder Hadi's choice, but I doubt he would allow you to walk a path of communicating with rocks and metal."

"Isn't this still sorcery..." Kas was speechless. This was like some preserved meat sitting on a toilet, insisting he wasn't a god, yet acting even more bizarre than one.

His eyes rolled around. It was no exaggeration to say that Baize's technique of turning iron into spheres would be useful anywhere.

"Um, Shaman Baize, although I am Elder Hadi's apprentice, the rule says you cannot proactively teach, but I am the one actively requesting it from you. Could you teach me a thing or two?"

"No, I cannot anger the Great Shaman."

Although Baize closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, looking like he wouldn't be persuaded, Kas knew that for the shaman to say this much, he must have some thoughts about him.

At times like this, one must use a barbarian's method to solve the problem...

Kas stood up abruptly, pinning Baize's shoulder with a firm grip, his tone resolute and his expression fierce:

"No, you have to teach me, or I'll smash this room of yours to pieces!"

Baize's ears twitched, and a faint "hmph" escaped his throat.

A man should do what a man does! The things that need doing!

With his mind made up, Kas exerted force through his hands, legs, and waist.

One hand pressed down on the shaman's shoulder, while the other grabbed the chair, forcibly hoisting Baize up.

He lifted him high above his head and slammed him toward the precious instruments on the round table.

Baize smiled with satisfaction as the steel chair melted into a lump of soft sludge, one end anchored to the floor, dragging the flying shaman back to his original position.

He stood up from the sludge-like chair and spread his hands in resignation:

"Sigh, there's no helping it. Since you're the son of that guy Malik and I can't beat you, it seems I have no choice but to teach you something."

Baize flicked the chair aside, retrieved a mortar from the wooden table, and poured some iron ore granules into it:

"Very well, I shall now instruct you in the wisdom of the Black Ember Tribe's generations of shamans—the mysteries of metal and ore."

The hell... Kas wanted nothing more than to punch the shaman to death. I wanted to learn Great Fireball and Pyroblast, and after all this trouble, you're making me do blacksmithing?

Baize gave an awkward laugh, losing the mystical, rambling air typical of shamans and appearing much more straightforward:

"I know what you want to ask, about that werewolf and the matter of spirits, but I've only been a shaman for ten years, so I don't understand many things.

You should ask the Great Shaman about these profound questions after you return to Ferode Canyon. Just like the two-dimensional and three-dimensional concepts mentioned earlier, it took me a long time to barely grasp the difference, yet you understood it the moment you heard it.

You really are a genius, Kas."