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Morgan Mackenzie was running again. This, in itself, was not a new occurrence. In fact, she had spent most of her waking hours since arriving on Anfealt running; she was either running towards something she wanted to eat, or away from something that wanted to eat her. She had spent her share of time walking, but rare had been the day she had not, at some point, needed to run for one reason or another.
Today was a day where the [Skyclad Sorceress] had something to run to. Or, perhaps, to run for. The thoughts and emotions swirling around her mind yielded to no words she had to describe it. The confused mass of footfalls that she had sensed from her spire may not have been panicked at all, but the rythmic thumping that had seemed so much like machine-gun fire meant they were certainly fighting with something. What that something was could not have been the massive presence she felt approaching, as it was still days away by her best estimation. The cacophony of sensations, vibrations, and echoes she had felt were difficult to decipher.
Morgan did know one thing for certain, though: there were people. There were lots of people, using what could only be modern Earth weapons. She realized she could technically be wrong about that, as she had no idea what sort of civilizations lived beyond the mountains -- but her gut feelings pointed towards someone else from Earth, and that thought spurred her feet to move faster. The massive presence moving along the ley lines was travelling slowly but steadily, and she knew it would take her at least two days in order to reach where she had sensed the people. While her instincts did not warn her of any direct danger associated with whatever it was, she knew an avalanche or a rock slide didn’t have to intend to hurt you in order to be dangerous. So, Morgan had packed as much food as she could carry in her [Runic Belt] along with several crystals, and Lulu had latched onto her shoulder, refusing to be left behind when something had its mistress so excited.
And then she ran to meet new people.
==========================================
Terisa Aras picked her way across the lowlands outside the walls of Castra Pristis. The smell of slaughter and death hung, miasma-like, in the early morning light, and the croaks and caws of oversized carrion birds reminded her of battlefields from her past. Normally, the Expedition sent out hunting parties from the fort to gather resources such as furs and horns, and other valuable parts of the various denizens of the wilds, but a migration year presented new challenges -- as well as new opportunities. Creatures tended to swarm up to the walls as they passed, meaning hunting parties didn’t have to travel nearly as far.
I suppose this year’s take will be heavy on furs and crystals...but lacking in witchwood and herbs, she thought to herself. It was too much of a risk to send out gathering parties with so many beasts on the move; there was no telling which areas were even relatively safe this season. The [Dozer Moles] had been only the beginning, and Dana’s rapid-firing gun emplacements had more than proven their worth next to experienced Dwarven Cannoneers. Thankfully, the mana-based weaponry didn’t damage the hides anywhere near as much as her crawler’s guns would have, and there were now racks of hundreds of mole-skins stretched out and drying within the walls of the fort. It had taken two full days to salvage that many before the rest simply spoiled, leaving the clearing south of Castra Pristis an abattoir which the huntress now carefully traversed.
Giant moles weren’t the only corpses rotting in the field. The first day’s dead had drawn scavengers, and those had to be dealt with as well; they made no distinction between the corpses of the fallen moles and the adventurers seeking to strip them. Many of the creatures of the wilds had trade value in various magical and mundane markets, but not all of them, and Terisa detested the wasteful slaughter as much as she recognized its necessity. If the fort were to be overrun, the entire Expedition could be a wash for the year, notwithstanding the potential loss of life if some of the less stable things stored in the wagons were to be trampled.
One benefit to a migration year was that certain other ventures didn’t have to travel as far into the wilds to accomplish their goals. It was one of these groups that Terisa was now heading towards, having seen her husband approaching through the trees with a small group of younger beastkin tribesmen. She could see much further than the part-beast man, but his sense of smell had no equal, and the huntress saw him grinning in the distance when the wind shifted, bringing him her scent and alerting him to her approach. One of Dana’s flying drones zipped by, low over the treetops and heading for the fort. Terisa was used to their passing by now, and simply ignored it.
More of the poofy creatures that Dana had called scrubbies had appeared the morning after the slaughter of the [Dozer Moles], and they seemed to be driven to clean up the mess. Terisa stepped carefully around several wurbling puffballs that were gathered around a shiny, gleaming skeleton, and approached the weary group of beastmen.
“Good hunt,” grumbled Foz amicably. “Ka’Na Oko will be well pleased, the younglings fought a mighty Na’Kohe.”
Several Lupara wolfmen panted happily, exhausted from the run, and a lumbering Ursara full-blood bearkin brought up the rear. One of the wolves spoke up then, unable to contain his excitement. “Graz gained a berserking skill during the fight, Lady Huntress! Foz had to wrestle him down so he wouldn’t kill the bear!”
Graz, the younger Ursaran of the group, grinned sheepishly but made no response. Foz chuckled. “Good skill. Be strong, when he learns to control it!”
“Honor to the Children of Ka’Na Oko,” Terisa complimented the youth with a nod. The young Ursara was obviously wounded, deeply enough that he would bear scars, but the Huntress knew better than to belittle his accomplishments by suggesting he accept healing after what was, essentially, his tribe’s test of manhood. All of the Children of the First Beast were prickly about honor, and the Ursara more than the rest. She ignored his wounds, and the others responded with nods and flicks of ears acknowledging the respect given.
The group resumed its trek back towards the fort, and Terisa joined them, falling into step alongside her husband. “Did you find any of the plants Biggles wanted?” she asked.
“Lots of witchwood,” he agreed with a low rumble. “Off to the south. Not far; might be worth the trip. Nothing else.
“I’m sure we can manage it,” she replied, nodding. “You didn’t find any whisperveil mushrooms, though? Shame; Biggles could have made an anti-magic compound for my arrows,” she continued, running a finger along her bow.
“Didn’t see any,” Foz confirmed. “Found bindleberries, though.”
Her expression lit up with avarice, and she leaned in. “Oh? You did, did you? Where are they?”
“Already ate ‘em,” came the stoic response. “They were very-uph!”
Terisa had only held herself back a little bit as she drove her fist into her husband’s solar plexus with a cry; Ursara were tougher than most, even for a high-leveled classer like Terisa. “Plague take you, Foz, you know those are my favorite!”
“Mine, too,” Foz replied, grinning and rubbing his chest. “Saved you some, though.” His hand dropped to the enchanted belt pouches he wore, and emerged with a cluster of perfectly ripened berries, which Terisa took almost as soon as they were proffered.
“Should have led with that, then,” she complained, the playful acidity in her reply cut with her obvious delight as she popped the berries into her mouth.
As they continued across the field, the little puffballs could be seen and heard all around them, wurbling contentedly as they continued their macabre work. Some of them had latched onto various Expedition members and let themselves be carried this way and that; this had caused some consternation before it was discovered that they made for interesting and affectionate pets.
Skirting a [Dozer Mole] corpse being attended to by several of the creatures, Terisa mused, “I think these things are going to enjoy a lot of popularity when we return to the lowlands.”
“Cute. Useful,” her husband replied.
At that point, their leisurely stroll back towards the walls was interrupted -- first by the sound of horns, and then a moment later by a resonating whump as a bright flare shot into the sky from within the fort’s walls.
Terisa broke into a jog, with Foz and the others falling in behind her. “That’s our recall sign,” she called. “Dana or the scouts must have found something.” Nessara and Kojeg met them at the fort’s gate, and once inside, Foz led the young beastkin down a side avenue back to their area. The mage and dwarf accompanied Terisa to the central field and pavilion.
“We need to make for the wall,” huffed Nessara. “Dana will join us soon.”
“Skitterlings,” Kojeg rumbled. “The lass’s latest drone brought back images of a full colony on the march, less than an hour to the south.”
“Then why are we bothering with the walls?” asked the huntress. “At least with her drones we have warning; we should be heading for the bridge.”
“T’would mean leaving everything we’ve gathered, and the Worldwalker’s workshop. The lass refused when we suggested it.”
“More than refused,” grumped Nessara. “Either the translation spell the sages at Thun’Kadrass gave her is malfunctioning, or her world is stranger than we ever thought. I’m not sure the things she told me to do with my various body parts and a goat are even possible. It would at least require serious healing after the attempt.”
“You can’t stop a skitterling swarm,” Terisa objected. “They’re mindless bugs except for the queens; you have to wipe them out or run. And I don’t think we have enough here to do that, even with Dana’s help.”
“I cannae say that, Teri,” countered Kojeg. “I’ve seen some of the things she’s built. And she tore off into her workshop yelling about something called ‘counter-zerg protocols.’” The dwarf seemed rattled and unsure despite his casual words, nervously flexing his hand on the haft of his hammer. “I have faith we can hold the walls for a time, but t’would be best to be crossing the bridge sooner than later.”
The dwarven Cannoneers had never left their posts on the walls, and were now being joined by the other adventurers of the Expedition. Terisa recognized one slender, brown-robed figure in particular, and made her way along the wall to the necromancer’s side. The man had a pale green puffball stuck to his shoulder, and seemed infatuated by his new pet despite the news of the approaching danger.
“I know you prefer healing, Biggles,” Terisa began, “but can you do anything with all the dead moles out there to help with the defenses?”
Biggles rubbed his cheek, considering Terisa’s question. “Normally I wouldn’t have the time to prepare them, but Wuffle’s kindred seemed to have been extremely effective at cleaning the flesh from the bones. I can sense hundreds of constructs’ worth of skeletons out there, although I’ll need two or three large mana crystals in order to make anything useful of them.”
Terisa blinked. “Wuffle?”
“Oh, yes! We seem to have bonded quite handily.” Biggles reached up to his shoulder and gently patted the puffball. “Wuffle cleans the bones and my sample jars better than anything I’ve got on my table.”
Terisa turned back to Nessara. “Can you and your fellow mages assist him?”
The other woman leaned on her staff, deep in thought for several heartbeats. “We don’t touch necromancy,” she said slowly. “The Magisterium doesn’t truck with anything that even smells like soul magics.”
Biggles made a placating gesture as he broke back into the conversation. “No, no soul magic. Even if I wanted to, there's too much death energy; it'd take days to sanctify the grounds to the point where things won't get corrupted on their way across the veil. Second, I've never tried necromancy in the Wildlands; I don't know how the mana will react. Even after all that, we'd need to strike a bargain with whatever we found. I refuse to simply bind a soul; I don't need the [Oracle]'s eye on me." He shakes his head. "No, this would just be a simple reanimation; all I'd need is raw power."
“That, we can help with,” Nessara replied, relieved. “As can the Swift Waters enchanters, if their representative is agreeable?” she continued with a nod as the guild representative joined them on the wall. “Mister Chadwick, Swift Waters claimed the largest of the intact rockmaw crystals. May we use a few of them for a linked circle?”
The man’s robes were an almost offensive shade of blue, with ostentatious gold embroidery filigreed across his shoulders and down his sleeves. The rings and bracelets he wore on his hands were as pompous and gaudy as they were useful, and the expensive enchantments layered into the adornments leaked enough magical energy to set Terisa’s nose to itching. He wasn’t the usual Swift Waters delegate Terisa was used to dealing with, and she wouldn’t have even entertained the notion of bringing him but for the fact that the guild funded a significant portion of the expedition’s expenses every year. She could tolerate snobbishness and foppery for the right price, and it helped that Chadwick seemed capable, even if supremely annoying.
“If it means keeping the rest of the crystals safe, by all means,” he agreed, spreading his arms. “We’ve sunk entire fortunes into this year’s venture, and it would be a shame to have to return empty handed.”
Nessara stepped closer to confer with the necromancer. “Which form of circle are you more familiar with?”
“Three groups of three magi with a crystal for each group should be enough. I’d like seven groups, if I thought we could spare the mages.” Biggles patted Wuffle gently while he considered. “I suppose three of three would be best, though, so the others can link up for barriers.”
Terisa turned away from the mage and the necromancer, her attention drawn by the sound of a young Luparan running towards their section of the wall. In her impatience, she simply leapt off the wall rather than take the stairs, landing on the cobblestone path below with a grunt of exertion and a sudden ache in her knees. I’ll regret that later, she mused. I’m not exactly young anymore. Her thoughts were tinged with a rueful melancholy; for all that she’d accomplished, she hadn’t taken a level in two years, and her natural regeneration was leaving her more and more. I should probably just retire and let someone else take over the Expedition.
The wolfling slowed as she approached, clearly excited or agitated by something. “I think the worldwalker is in trouble, Lady Huntress. She tore apart the back of her giant carriage, and keeps shouting horrible things at it.” His ear flicked, directing his attention behind him for a moment as he cocked his head curiously. “Is her world full of people who mate with their mothers?”
“I don’t believe so, but it’s certainly full of strange people and things.” Workers in the livery of the Swift Waters Guild went jogging by as the huntress and the wolfkin made their way to the center of the fort’s grounds. Nessara and Biggles had the initial defenses well in hand, it seemed, and Terisa stepped to one side of the path to let a pair of porters pass carrying a crated mana crystal. As they approached the central clearing, clangs, shouts of helpers, and one swearing worldwalker could be heard.
Dana’s “mobile workshop,” as she called it, normally travelled as three massive metal sections connected by an assortment of hinges, hoses, and cables that allowed it to wind its way along the roads on its massive spoked wheels. The three oversized carriages that made up the travelling behemoth were now disconnected from each other, and Foz was helping several other Ursara push the middle section to another recently cleared area of the fort’s central courtyard. The front section was opened wide, racks of strange tools and coiled loops of cables scattered about in Dana’s rush to do her work. The rear section that the otherworlder had referred to as a crawler was now partially dismantled, exposing an inner construct that Terisa barely recognized as a golem core. She had seen many sorts of golems, and up until now, they had all been powered and controlled by a single mana crystal encased in an enchanted frame.
The crawler’s heart, however, was a contraption of interlocking ring gears around a central grooved spindle, each groove holding a single sliver of crystal thinner than one of the arrows the huntress fired from her bow and almost as long. The otherworld engineer was just finishing seating the last of the new crystal spines into one of the grooves, seven discarded crystals of lower quality dropped haphazardly on the ground. As the huntress drew closer, Dana scuttled around to the other side of the crawler. Several clanking thunks and declarations about the contraption being derived from incestuous heritage later, the assembly of rings rotated around the center and with a thrum of power they shrank down to fit neatly around the slowly spinning core.
“I’ve never seen a golem core like that in all my years,” exclaimed Terisa as a steel housing engraved with control runes slid smoothly into place around the mechanical wonder.
“That’s because it’s technically not a golem core,” mumbled Dana past some sort of flanged tool she held in her teeth, both hands and all but two of her mechanical limbs making adjustments on the underside of the contraption. “It’s a- Hold on.”
The woman’s helmet snapped back into place after she spat out the metal tool, a dark visor covering her eyes as one of her metal appendages flipped its end around with a whirring flash. Bright sparks followed as the Worldwalker fused a steel support strut into place on the underside of the machine before skittering her way back out from beneath it.
“Standard golem cores have plenty of power packed into one big crystal, but they’re slow to transfer the energy out of the core to the rest of the golem. Unexpected power demands can destabilize the core, usually catastrophically, so golem frames keep it nice and slow.” Dana’s voice was tinny at first until her helmet retracted once again. As she spoke, she manipulated several levers and knobs on the side of the crawler and then backed away. The machine’s core slid back into the housing of the metal beast, the deep rumble of gears and other strange devices heralding the metallic clunking as the outer armor plates closed back up and the legs began to unfold from the sides.
“The crawler has different power needs, though, and by design, she needs to draw power a lot more quickly than the standard architecture allows. Her reactor core is seven crystal shards in a stabilizing matrix to buffer the power transference under loads a normal golem simply wouldn’t be able to handle. Smaller crystals, but more total power, and more efficiency overall. She’s actually able to recharge in a third of the time a single bigger crystal would take!”
“I’m no golemist, but that sounds very impressive,” acknowledged Terisa. “But I thought you were limited on ammunition?”
“On physical rounds for the crawler, yes,” replied the Worldwalker as she dashed around picking up tools and parts. The inferior mana crystals went into a crate packed with straw which was soon tucked into the shelving on the still-opened front section of the workshop. “But I’m not using the crawler’s guns for this; Foz and the others are pushing the big gun into place right now.”
“The ‘big gun?’ I shudder to think what you used on the rockmaw stampede wasn’t a ‘big gun,’” said the Huntress, unable to repress an involuntary shiver. Horns sounded from the walls as they spoke, and Terisa glanced back to see flares of light and lightning springing up around the fort. “They’ve sighted the skitterlings,” she said tensely. “Biggles is animating skeletons from the [Dozer Moles] to buy us time, and then it’s gonna be dirty. What are you contributing?”
“Well,” said Dana as several sections of her suit reconfigured, then dropped away, leaving the otherworlder sitting in a nearly immodest state in a stripped down chair-type configuration. A flattened oblong metal crate next to her suddenly split along previously invisible seams, runes glowing and shifting as a new armored shell seemed to assemble itself around her. Where the previous suit had seemed functional and utilitarian, this one was obviously heavier and more heavily armed, shrouding the worldwalker in a far more sinister form.
“There was a weapons program on my world; one of many, of course. It doesn’t matter what it was called, and the name wouldn’t mean anything to you anyway, but the tests were abandoned because the soldiers that would have used the weapon could never have escaped its area of effect.”
Terisa appeared unimpressed. “That does not fill me with confidence. Give me a reason to not declare this expedition over and get everyone across the bridge right now.”
“Kojeg tells me you can kill the queens, if we can crack their armor.”
“I can,” Terisa confirmed as she hefted her bow. “Or rather, we can, my sister and I. But first we have to deal with the worker and soldier forms in the swarm, and it can take hours of battle and dozens of mages to break their defenses down. And if there’s more than one queen…”
The crawler had continued its reconfiguration, clanking and thumping emanating from its internal systems as it lumbered to a standing position on its six metal legs. Dana’s armored glove retracted partially, leaving her fingers and palm bare as she reached up to touch it.
She furrowed her brow, speaking in a short, clipped tone. “Engage Autonomous Mode, Defender protocol.”
Terisa opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, a harsh mechanical voice rose from around her.
“Autonomous Mode confirmed. Initializing Defender protocol.”
Terisa actually jumped back in surprise as the crawler spoke in response. “I thought you said it couldn’t function as a normal golem on its own!”
“It can’t,” she admitted, “but it can follow limited preset directives.”
The massive metal beast shook the ground as it moved its legs to turn in place. One by one each leg raised itself off the ground and slammed downwards, each foot springing open as three spikes lanced into the cobbles of the ancient courtyard. The legs folded in, lowering the front of the crawler’s body. The rearmost section rotated to point upwards, and the outer ringed sections of its shell began to rotate and pulse with a gentle blue light from the runes inscribed on the metal.
“Defender mode will give us an extra shield,” said Dana as she finished packing up the workshop section of the first metal carriage. The shop then closed up, leaving just the hatch-like portal on the side, which the Worldwalker closed behind herself as she stepped out and headed towards the middle section. Foz and the other Ursara had finally managed to push the oversized wagon into place, where Dana had somehow cut markings into the ground to indicate where she needed it to go. She continued speaking as they neared the contraption.
“Between the walls, the shield, and any barriers the mages can give us, I’m confident Castra Pristis can take it. It may get uncomfortably hot, but it will be brief. Or should be; I couldn’t test these rounds at Thun’Kadrass. Shouldn’t you already be at the walls?”
“My own wide-area attacks wouldn’t put a dent in the workers and soldiers of the skitterling swarm,” replied the Huntress as the cannons began to fire, accompanied by the stuttering cacophony of Dana’s mana-bolt machine-guns. “But if you can crack the queen’s armor, Althenea can take out the lot of them with one shot. I just can’t use that skill twice in a row, it will take me days to recover. So it has to count.”
“Oh, it will,” said Dana with a sinister grin. The central section of her workshop reacted as she laid her bared palm against the side, the six wheels churning up stone and dirt as they twisted and the axles bent to lay the rims flat on the earth. The top and sides of the carriage split with a hum and folded outwards as both women stepped back, and what was obviously a cannon of some sort was revealed.
But what a cannon, thought Terisa. Instead of a fat elongated bell shape akin to the dwarven cannons she was already familiar with, this weapon revealed an elegance the huntress could not put words to. The central barrel was narrower than those others, its bore barely larger than her arm. Flattened rectangular ports on the end flared backwards, bracketing the muzzle of the gun, and a pair of massive springs on each side held it in place on a sliding rail. Twice as long as she was tall, the gun slowly elevated with a gentle mechanical whirr that ill fit its deadly purpose. A double row of shells sat nested into a sliding rack on one side, and as Terisa watched, mechanical components took one of the conical shells and fed it into the cannon’s breech.
“First round is a standard charge, to confirm range and accuracy.” Dana held out a strange flattened device inset with impossibly tiny runes, and as it began to glow a small-scale image of the fort and the surrounding area was projected into the air in front of the two women. “I’ve had the drones mapping out the area. If I can build a radio, or find a magical equivalent, I can do targeting in real-time, but for now we’ll have to settle for a little delay.”
Dana thumped a metal barrel on the side of the cannon, and a small golem suddenly sprang to action. Legs sprouted from the barrel, and it hopped off the side of the machine trailing a thin cable that spooled out from within itself. The other end of the cord disappeared behind one of the panels of the gun’s carriage. It followed Dana as she headed for the wall, Terisa in tow.
“That’s a lot of bugs,” said the Worldwalker as they reached the parapet. Nessara and Biggles stood in a circle with the guild representative, a man-sized crystal shard floating between them. Three more mages stood in a circle over a dozen paces to their left, and another three to their right, both with crystals of their own. Eerie drafts of lucent green drifted between the crystals and the mages, flowing around the necromancer as he directed a skeletal army; one which was in very real danger of being overrun simply by the sheer numbers of the enemy. Other mages held position at the ready near each of the dwarven cannon emplacements, and Foz and the beastkin stood on the southern wall, ready for their own grim work when the time came.
Biggles himself stood motionless, knuckles white as he gripped the stone to hold himself up. Sweat ran down his brow with the effort, but his skill at his craft was evident in the growing berm of insectile forms building up over a thousand paces south of the walls. “The skitterlings aren’t going around,” he declared through clenched teeth. “When the queen appears, she’ll be bringing soldiers with her. The constructs won’t hold after that.”
“This is gonna be loud,” declared Dana, pulling a cord from their golem escort and plugging it into a slot on the back of her armored arm. She held out the flattened device once again, inspecting the map and tapping at the runes. “Adjusting angle. Biggles, if this takes out some of your constructs, I’m sorry.”
“A few is no issue, but if I lose too many they’ll hit the walls,” he grunted.
“Fire in the hole!” shouted the Worldwalker, her voice pitched differently than Terisa had ever heard. It carried across the fort, leaving a sudden questioning silence for a single brief moment.
The impact of the cannon firing was a thing felt more than heard, the thump of the ground against her feet almost enough to set the huntress to dancing to keep her balance just a split second before the sound itself reached her ears. Many times louder than any of the dwarven guns, the noise reached her ears with a ringing impact. The world shook, and chunks of dirt and stone flew back from the engineer’s cannon. Foz and the other beastkin crouched instinctively, many wincing and holding their ears.
“Three…” said Dana. “Two. One.”
Several dozen skitterlings, resembling nothing so much as common ants writ large, suddenly vanished in a shower of dirt and stone. The low rumble that reached their ears on the walls was much deeper and less jarring than the initial firing, but no less terrifying for its lack of volume. Two of the skeletal constructs nearest the blast simply collapsed, the animating magic no longer able to hold them together. Biggles breathed more heavily, straining to hold the rest.
The explosion and loss gave the swarm no pause, and Terisa readied her bow as dozens of even larger soldiers made their way out of the trees behind the frenzied horde. “How is that supposed to break the queen’s armor?” the huntress demanded. “She’ll be here soon, following behind the soldiers.”
“That isn’t supposed to do anything to the queen’s armor.” Dana checked her map again, switching her gaze between it and the treeline. “Biggles, the next time I fire, you might consider dropping all the constructs and throwing up a shield.”
“What kind of shield?!” he grunted exasperatedly “You realize the headaches this is going to cause all of us if I simply sever the links to the constructs?”
“What do you mean what kind of shield?” Dana asked. “And I think I see the queen!”
The magical strain made Biggles’ words sound forced as he snapped, “Flame shield? Wind barrier? Sonic attenuation? Any of a dozen and a half other shield types?”
“Queen, treeline, two hundred paces west of the southern trail!” called Terisa, drawing Althenea and nocking one of her most expensive arrows. The destructive enchantment inscribed onto the adamantine broadhead would have cost a years’ pay to most working classers without the Huntress’ unique connections and wealth. “If you can crack her armor, I can kill her.”
“How do you expect to punch through with just one shot?” asked Nessara. Magic swirled around the woman as she added her own strength to Biggles’s channeling.
“I don’t intend to just break the queen’s armor,” Dana replied, shaking her head. ”I’m taking out most of that swarm too.” The queen lumbered out of the forest then, several times larger than even Dana’s crawler. It was escorted by soldiers even larger than the last group, whose gargantuan mandibles chewed through everything in their queen’s path: rocks, trees, and even the odd unfortunate worker skitterling who failed to clear the path in time.
“How on earth are you going to do that?!” came the frustrated and strained question from Nessara.
Dana grinned. “Remember what I said about pulling energy out of a mana crystal too fast? I engineered a round to do that deliberately, to a shard about the size of my fingernail. Then, I packed it into a compression chamber. When the shell hits, it destabilizes the crystal, then annihilates it all at once! Simple, right? Fire in the hole!”
The cannon thumped once more, as if in agreement, but the assembled group could hardly hear it over their own sudden horror. The blood drained from Nessara’s cheeks, her ashen expression one Terisa would not soon forget. Chadwick lost his bladder, the front of his gaudy blue robes turning a dark color. Biggles and the other mages dropped their necromantic spells, the constructs slumping to the earth. The mana around the crystals changed from green to bluish-white as the mages began casting a shield around them. From the southern wall, Foz heard Dana’s proclamation as well, and his hasty commands had the beastkin and dwarves diving as one, covering their heads in sheer panic.
Dana simply stood in place, her armor suddenly glowing with sigils that projected several layers of shielding around the top of the gate tower. “Why’s everybody being all dramatic? It’s seriously a tiny shard. And the math checked out!”
And then the shell slammed into the ground a few paces away from the queen, who stopped at the sudden geyser of dirt. For a half of a heartbeat, Terisa was sure something had gone wrong.
Then the shell exploded, and the entire world disappeared into a sea of white.
========================================
Morgan had stopped running to eat, her third such break of the day. Bursts of [Acceleration] let her cover ground at an amazing pace, but the calorie cost to sustain such motion wasn’t something she could keep up for very long. So, she had brought several dozen leaf-wrapped parcels of meat, and in the two days since heading for the people she had sensed she had consumed almost all of them.
“I have to be getting close, Lulu,” she said after finishing her meal, while the scrubby cleaned the grease off her hands. “I know I’m going the right direction, but I could be miles to one side or the other by the time I get there.”
She rose from her seat. A fallen log with moss growing over it had made for a comfortable place of respite while she had a brief rest and a snack. Without wasting any more time, she continued on her way, heading roughly south by southwest -- at least, by her best reckoning. Don’t really have a way to make a compass, not that I know of, she thought to herself as she jogged along. Her meal would take an hour or so to fully replenish her reserves, and she wanted to pace herself before returning to her skills.
It was well past noon before she got close enough that her [Spell Resonance] let her sense the faintest echoes of activity in the distance. She surmised she might make it by nightfall at her current pace even if she didn’t use [Acceleration]. The impressions she sensed at such a distance were vague, and while she was sure some of it was gun or cannon fire, she couldn’t be sure who or what was fighting. Too many feet hitting too much ground over too much of an area; only the rapid thumps of weapons were sharp enough to stand out.
So she restrained herself, resisting the urge to make a mad dash and use up her reserves. She was down to three meals in her storage, and had no clue if the people at the far end would even be friendly. The thought that they may have ill intentions had crossed her mind more than once while she ran, but she was willing to chance it in case they were nice. If they weren’t she’d have to run, and she didn’t want to be stuck without food in such circumstances.
Suddenly, there came a far sharper, far louder impact. Her senses were instantly on edge as she skidded to a stop, pausing to feel for more tremors. Some sort of booming concussion had cut through the low rumbling of everything else, nearly stinging her feet as [Spell Resonance] transferred the sensation. All the other vibrations through the ground seemed to fall away for a moment before resuming again, and Morgan stood still for several heartbeats. She had barely taken another step before her senses were overloaded.
She sensed a flash of heat, a rumble of earth, and it took her nearly a full minute to realize she was actually physically hearing the sound with her own ears and not just through her [Spell Resonance]. Thunder rolled in a continuous rumble throughout the valley, and the sky to the southeast was visibly brighter in the early afternoon. The sorceress stumbled, catching herself just before falling as Lulu wurbled with surprised concern from her shoulder.
“Oh god…”
She continued more slowly, picking her way up the mountainside to the next ridge. Dread filled her at the thought of what she suspected she would see, and was made manifest when she crested the rocky ledge at the very top.
“Someone built a nuke in this world?” she wondered in a small voice.
An ominously glowing cloud was forming in the distance, the emblematic shape of destruction writ large and terrible, simultaneously idolized and feared in the fictional works of her own world. It wasn’t as big as she had been afraid of, but it cast dead shadows across the low mountains to the south. Violent lightnings danced around the edges of the darkness, and she could feel her skin prickle with tingling and burning sensations that healed as fast as they appeared.
“Radiation, has to be. It’s like a really itchy sunburn.” She patted the loofah on her shoulder, but Lulu seemed even less bothered by it than Morgan. “If it gets worse, you may have to hide in one of my runes, girl. I have to check for survivors.”
So Morgan ran once more, discarding caution and using [Acceleration] as much as she dared. She hoped there were still people left when she arrived.
===========================================
Terisa staggered to her feet, leaning heavily against the stone parapet as she fumbled at her belt. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and twin spears of agony lanced into her brain; she knew in that instant that she’d been blinded, and that if she didn’t move quickly, it might well be a permanent affliction. Her right hand gripped Althanea tightly, who pulsed with barely-contained panic, while her left rummaged through the pouches sewn into her wyvern-hide breeches. She calmed her breathing as her fingers finally closed around a familiarly-shaped bottle, drawing it forth and tearing the stopper out with her teeth. She drank the bitter potion in a single motion as she began to feel again. Her exposed arms, legs, face, what little cleavage her tunic exposed -- all of it stung from the flash of hellish heat that had burned out her eyes.
A standard healing potion would have only stopped the damage and scarred it over -- but Terisa was no standard adventurer, and this was no standard potion. The elixir (which she had saved for emergencies not exactly like this one) tasted vile, but it worked, and Terisa felt her natural regeneration amplify a hundredfold under its effects. Her eyes itched maddeningly as they grew back, repairing the damage and eventually restoring functional, albeit blurry, sight. Such potions fetched a king’s ransom, but when you needed them most, nothing else could compare.
As her vision cleared, the huntress lowered her bow and pushed herself off the parapet to survey the destruction the engineer had wrought. The forest had been blown down like matchsticks in a circle stretching for miles away from the fort, and charred, smoking corpses lay strewn amongst the fallen trees like so many lumps of coal. To Dana’s credit, the crawler’s shield had done its job; though the shield itself was barely visible to the naked eye, its effect was visible as a curved line several dozen paces out from the fort’s walls, against which a wave of debris had piled up to form a noticeable berm.
It had not, however, stopped all of the tremendous heat from the blast, and the battlements of Castra Pristis bore the scars: they had been scorched by the heat, with strangely-formed shadows seemingly etched into the surfaces that had faced the blast. They looked much like the skitterlings, but cast in silhouette against the stones, as if thrown there by an evening sun. The towering cloud above rumbled ominously, eerie lightning flashing in its depths.
Dana herself stood rigid and motionless atop the tower, as if her armor had locked her in place. Terisa thought to herself that that must have been what happened. The suit creaked, smoke drifting in thin, curling tendrils away from the joints and seams. She managed to turn her head fractionally to either side, and that effort seemed to push the suit out of whatever lockdown mode it had been pressed into. With a hiss, the faceplate bulged forward, then slid up over the woman’s head, stunned disbelief writ across her features.
“I-I think…” she croaked.
“I think you made a miscalculation,” Terisa said frostily, not taking her eyes off the field. Biggles and his mages, and Foz and his beastmen and dwarves, were just starting to regain their footing. Singed one and all, but their concerned shouts didn’t have the overtones of panic that might indicate severe injury; nobody else had stared directly into the blast as she had. Terisa scanned the battlefield once more, desperately searching for any sign of the skitterling queen.
Dana’s suit creaked again as she flexed her limbs, runes flickering across its exterior as it worked to repair the damage she had incurred. “Just, ah, a rough estimate,” she replied with a nervous laugh, putting her suit through a brief self-test. “I, ah, don’t have proper equipment to get a real measurement, but I was expecting maybe point three kay-tee? But that was more like...had to be at least a kiloton just to look at the mushroom cloud! I don’t understand, the math checked out, it shouldn’t have--”
The engineer’s babbling was cut short by a low, persistent beeping and strident flashing from a raised section of her armored left arm. Startled, she slid a panel back and peered at something, swearing vehemently. “Ah, shit, I’m getting readings on my dosimeter. It’s not terribly high, but it’s concerning enough as it is--”
Terisa cut her off with a sharp gesture. “Explain later. The queen’s not here, but there are still plenty of soldiers and workers, and they’re still coming.”
The smoking earth around the crater where the weapon went off still glowed with heat, and the skitterlings surrounding it seemed unwilling to cross. Suddenly, Terisa glanced skyward, bade by her instincts, or possibly the rising cry from the people within the fort. As she looked up, a shape fell from the sky, still glowing and trailing smoke. The remains of the skitterling queen, merely a chunk of her armored carapace, slammed back to earth, sending a tremor through the ground as it bounced once, then came to rest.
“Miss Dana,” Terisa began, her eyes on the treeline. Her sharp-eyed gaze saw more chitinous soldiers boiling forth from the treeline, ahead of a second lumbering shape whose presence poured icy dread into the huntress’ heart. “While I’m thankful that I didn’t end up wasting my ultimate skill, please tell me you have a less destructive way to crack a queen’s shell?”
Dana’s gaze snapped to Terisa, then out to the treeline. “I...I don’t even have another annihilator,” she said softly. “I-It was a prototype. I don’t know if standard rounds will do the job.”
The second queen broke through the treeline, and the milling workers and soldiers let out hissing, insectile screams as they were driven forth by the new queen’s orders. They surged forth across the cracked, seared ground, the lead ants bursting into flames, falling, and being trampled by those behind them. Foz’s bellowing roar rose from within the fort, followed by howls and barked commands and acknowledgments as the beastmen and dwarves made ready to hold the walls in a desperate stand.
“This won’t be fun, Worldwalker,” the [Wild-Heart Huntress] warned. “Hit the queen with everything you have. If you can weaken the armor, I’ll take the shot.”
Dana responded with a quiet nod, her helmet slipping back into place. Nessara, Biggles, and the mages had finally reset themselves, and barriers once more sprang into existence as they returned to their work. Cheers resounded as the guns resumed their monotonous thumping, flinging death out over the walls into the onrushing horde.
The first shot landed short of the queen, but the second, third, and then several more thudded into its armored carapace. The swarm did not falter, more of the bugs flooding out of the trees, pushing their brethren up against the walls, and then simply up the walls. Terisa kept her arrow nocked, watching the queen and trusting Kojeg and the mages to keep the gate-tower clear. Biggles and Nessara were wreathed in eerie light, each supporting one side of a low translucent dome, and the dwarf laid about with his hammer to crush intruders that pushed under the edge of the shield.
“Twelve more rounds,” shouted the Worldwalker. “I don’t think they’re having any effect!” Each impact drove the queen into a low crouch, but the monstrous creature simply shrugged its cottage-sized bulk and crept forward under the deluge. And then the gun went silent. “That’s all I have,” said Dana, yanking out the cord through which she had controlled the massive gun. “I’ll have to get close and see if I can cut through with my fusion blades.”
As she spoke the last, her suit went from two legs back to four, then six, then eight. Four appendages held her off the ground, and the other four sprouted glowing knives of hard-edged light. Another giant ant had forced its way under the edge of the dome held up by the mages, opposite the side Kojeg defended. Dana’s blades snicked out too fast even for Terisa to see clearly, and the bug fell, hewn into two pieces that dripped smoking ichor.
“Something’s coming!” shouted Biggles suddenly, turning to face the mountainside to the northwest of the fort.
Nessara turned to look as well. “Earth Mana, and Fire! It’s the same as the day of the rockmaw stampede!” she shouted.
Terisa felt it as well, suddenly. A shiver beneath her feet, a low rumble. The skitterling queen stumbled in its tracks, and she finally took her eyes off the bugs to see what the mages had turned to look at.
One of the mountaintops off to the west of the fort lit up with flashes of brilliant purple incandescence. As it continued, even the huntress was struck with the sensation of power.
And the mountain shrugged. The top rose up as if buoyed by that terrible light, and then dropped. And kept dropping. The lower slope facing the swarm bulged out and then, as if a dam had burst, flowed forth like a wave of water poured across a table. Within the churning earth was snapping, crackling, burning purple lightning. The leading edge of the rolling dirt and stone threw up a bow wave of more stone, trees, and then giant ants as it swept across the valley in the span of less than a dozen heartbeats.
The others could not see as clearly as Terisa could, when the lightning and stone reached the queen and crushed it under tons of rock and earth as easily as she might crush a normal-sized insect underfoot. They saw the effect, but not the source. But her [Eagle Eye] skill showed her, in perfect clarity, a woman covered in glowing lines of power from head to toe, leaping from one floating disk of stone to another, several paces above the churning mass of burning earth. Seven flawless mana crystals floated in a circle that slowly rotated around the woman, and a poofy puffball twice the size of Biggles’ own Wuffle perched upon her shoulder.
The necromancer’s jaw hung open, as did those of Nessara and the other mages, as he tracked her across the sky. “One person,” he said weakly. “One person, linked to seven mana crystals? That...shouldn’t be possible! The flux alone should…!”
“Nobody told them that,” retorted Nessara.
“Her,” said Kojeg absently, peering through his spyglass. “Terisa, is it just me eyes, or be that lass as naked as the day she were born?”
“It’s not your eyes, Koj,” Terisa replied in wonder.
“Well,” supplied Dana as the glowing figure approached the fort, resting her hands on her hips. “This should be interesting!”
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 31″ A Slight Miscalculation",
"author": "a_man_in_black",
"chapters": 51,
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"rating_ct": 120,
"genre": [
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|
Lord-Commander Terrick stood on the uppermost balcony of Wardenholt, the Warden’s traditional headquarters, looking down over the city of Stormbreak. A nervous pall lay over the entire city, an aura of uncertain dread over what was to come. From his vantage point he could see where several rows of tenements had recently been demolished and the rubble cleared away to expose the lines of an ancient section of the Stormbreak Array. Over the course of the two centuries since the last time the entire array had been needed, the citizens had forgotten it, and construction had spread atop its expanse. Now that the time had come again, all of it had to be cleared away. Notwithstanding the fact that charging the array might destroy the buildings anyway, it had to be inspected before the mages of the Hold could risk reactivating it. The lower offices of the Wardens had been awash with complaints for weeks, and Terrick had been prepared to issue standing orders to arrest the more angry ringleaders. Such threats proved unnecessary once the Storm Breakers completed their assessment and began linking the array together.
Outrage gave way to awestruck fear as swirls of lightning began to coalesce above the nodes, and the tenuously-leashed display took the will out of the protesters. Even those shopkeepers who hadn’t been involved with the protests edged their wares away from the roiling vortices. Now that the array was gathering energy, Terrick could begin to make out the pattern of the enchantment laying beneath the stones. Though not a mage himself, his class dealt with mana enough that he had some limited grasp, and even to his half-opened senses, the air seemed to hum with ancient energy -- and he knew it was far worse for the actual spellcasters.
As awe-inspiring as the work the Storm Breakers were doing was, no less so was what they hoped to counter by their efforts. The western sky was filled with grim, black clouds, lit from within by dread power in a riot of every imaginable color. It was rare for a storm to be more than a dot on the horizon, a far-off challenge to the Storm Breakers’ power. Lesser firings of the array were usually sufficient to shatter the cloud formations into smaller, far less dangerous squalls that dissipated long before they threatened even the least-equipped merchant convoy or fisherman fleet.
History attested to more threatening storms, of course; though the city’s archives were spotty and incomplete, with only scattered clues as to the storm systems’ origin, it was obvious to anyone caring to look that they were by no means natural. Appearing every year from beyond the western horizon, they waxed and waned with the seasons, growing most powerful in the summer and fading into nothingness with winter’s chill. Something drove them out of the west, far beyond the sight of even the most daring scouts. Rumor and superstition offered a thousand tales to explain them, but such speculation was a luxury the Breakers could ill afford, especially now.
Terrick looked down, not at the city below, but at a silver disk in his palm. Slightly larger across than the gold coins that mediated trade in the merchants’ sector below, it was inset with a wickedly-gleaming red gem that lent the whole an uncomfortable warmth. It represented a contingency, one which he hoped would never be needed in his life. But what we want to be and what comes to pass are ever at odds. He closed his fingers around the disk, the thought like bitter poison in his mind as he tucked it into a pouch on his belt.
“Sir!”
The shout and sound of footsteps broke him from his reverie, and he turned to see his secretary approach, clutching a notebook under one arm. “Latest reports are in by way of the old semaphore towers, sir!”
“Thank you, Megyn,” Terrick responded. “The array is simply drawing too much magic around the island to get a scry through. How bad is it?”
His assistant wore a confused expression and didn’t respond immediately, a sign the news was different than she or he had been expecting. It had been several weeks since the Constable had vanished in a welter of fire and mayhem, and Terrick had been silently dreading reports of slaughter and bloodshed at the hands of another monster alongside The Defiler. Sightings had been sporadic and impossible to confirm, villages all over the interior of the island sending messages telling of bursts of flame in the night and screams in the wilderness. An unbound demon had the potential to be only marginally better than the Defiler, and many had been Terrick’s nightmares where he ended up having to put Zizzy down.
“There’ve been no murders even remotely resembling The Defiler’s work since she fought him at Ridgewater. There was a copycat near the Pine Lodge crossroads, but the Lieutenant stationed at the village has experience with tracking magics and sniffed out the bastard. He’s on his way to the Pillar after confessing.”
Terrick only just managed to stop himself from sagging in relief. “So she’s keeping him away from more victims, instead of rampaging on her own.”
“That’s the good news, sir.” Megyn seemed reluctant to continue. The girl was newly classed and not yet accustomed to working as his [Secretary], but Terrick knew one could not level easily without actually doing the things aligned with that person’s class archetype, so he softened his tone to put her at ease.
“I’m not one to kill the messenger, Megyn. Just breathe and finish your report.”
The young woman closed her eyes and took a breath, then glanced down at the notebook she held.
“Reports from Highfort Ruins confirm its destruction. Mages sent to investigate reported substantial traces of hellfire burned into the stone. The bridge over Thunderfall Gap will need repairs as well.” She glanced up at Terrick, then back down to her report. “Commander Danram was close enough to three of the sightings to give us more; he sends word from the Pillar that he believes she’s wearing him down. But, sir...he also thinks he’s heading for the Isle.” She fidgeted in place, looking up.
Terrick nodded his agreement with the analysis. “Even the non-mages and classless can feel the array for hundreds of miles. He has to be hungry for magic, and the central array must be like a second sun to his senses.”
“I thought the array drew on the ley lines beneath the island, sir…”
“It does,” Terrick acknowledged, “but it can’t use that magic while it’s down there. The nodes of the array act like a siphon, bringing it up and concentrating it into something the Breakers can actually use. A [Mage-Eater] couldn’t touch a ley line, but once the magic is on the surface they could feed on it unimpeded.”
The storm-shadowed skies flashed a brilliant gold several times in rapid succession, and even the dampening enchantments around Stormbreak Hold were insufficient to completely muffle the sound. Low rumbles shook the air, felt in the chest more than heard by the ears. The array was approaching full charge, and the Breakers had to keep the swirling energies balanced while the power gathered. At least, that’s what Terrick assumed. His own knowledge of actual magecraft was largely academic outside of the enchantments his class used, as he had no use for outwardly-directed spells.
“The last sighting was at Thunderfall near the bridge,” Megyn continued after a moment. “It’s only three days by cart, so he could be in the city already!”
Terrick rubbed his chin, thoughtful for several long moments. “I don’t think they’ve reached the city yet,” he disagreed. “Both the [Mage-Eater] and the Constable would gain strength from the magic being drawn into the city, and noticeably so. I doubt they’ll be able to hide when they arrive, either one of them.” They fell silent, looking out over the city.
The evening sun backlit the dark clouds to the west, an approaching wall that the city had been dreading for months. The sky over the city itself was clear, but high winds drove waves across the harbor and whipped between the buildings and down the streets. The island’s fishing fleets and merchant vessels had been pulled into drydocks where space was available and the captains had coin to pay, but many were stuck in the harbor. Only the truly insane would risk a run to the mainland with such a storm bearing down. Many ships had been put to anchor in the bay, sails stripped and sometimes even the masts taken down. The Breakers had held the storms at bay for over a millennium, but the fear was palpable despite their track record for reliability.
Megyn began to fidget, waiting for him to continue or dismiss her as he stared out over the city. He turned, gesturing for her to follow him into the Warden’s offices. “Looks to be a long night. Time to brief the night shift before they relieve the current guards.”
“All of our mages are helping the Breakers,” his secretary said. “We’ve deputized just about everyone in good standing with the courts who has melee skills and experience to guard the nodes while the Breakers charge the array.”
Terrick strode into the central hall of the warden’s office, keeping his face calm as officers and deputies of Stormbreak’s different districts turned to face the Lord-Commander. “I’ll keep it short,” he said simply, not needing to raise his voice. “We expect the Defiler at any moment. There’s no way to predict where he may show up in the city, but it’s almost certain the Constable will be right on his heels if the reports from the rest of the island are anything to go by.”
He looked at the assembled officers and deputies, veterans and rookies both. “Do not, under any circumstance, try to cast a spell at the [Mage-Eater]. Enhancements and self-augmentation should be safer, but rely on physical skills and abilities as much as you can.”
One of the older sergeants spoke up, asking the question those younger and less experienced Wardens were afraid to voice. “Rules of engagement, sir?”
His response was swift and certain. “Kill on sight. Do not try to detain. We’re to put him down if possible, and keep him away from civilians to the best of our abilities.”
“And the Constable? Rumor has it she’s broken her bindings.”
“Let me deal with Constable Zizzy. If she’s capable of being reasonable, there shouldn’t be any issue. If she’s truly gone berserk…then there’s not much we can do but be as quick and merciful as possible. She deserves that much for her service.”
More than a few of the assembled expressed relief at the last statement. Many were those who joined the Wardens after Zizzy had saved them from some disaster or another, Terrick included. The possibility of having to fight someone who had been a fixture of so many lives was not something the Wardens could countenance lightly. After dismissing them to their duties the Lord-Commander headed for his own office.
A young boy waited by the door to his chambers; a messenger, judging by his well-worn boots and letter-pouch on his belt. He seemed extremely anxious, but too fearful of the Wardens to interrupt. Terrick stopped before the door and smiled kindly at the boy.
“You have a message, son? We don’t bite without cause.”
“Not scared of Wardens, sir; the Temple sent me. It’s Father Janim, the Diviner. They say he’s trying to do an Augury, but he’s too old!”
Terrick’s heart skipped a beat at the boy’s proclamation. “Go,” he said crisply. “I’ll be right there.” The boy took off running for the main doors, and the Lord-Commander continued towards his office. Shoving the door open, he threw on his coat and adjusted his sword belt. No carts or horses traversed the high streets of the upper district; the flask he snatched up from his desk contained a restorative brew to help him with the sprint he would need to make. Megyn raised a hand to ask him something on his way back out, but sat back and remained quiet when she saw his face as he passed the reception area.
He kept himself calm all the way down the upper street terrace far above the city below. A mana-lift transfer station allowed passage between the Warden’s cliffside tower and the upper district, and what seemed like an eternity passed entirely too slowly while he waited for the platform to cross the gap. Janim! What are you thinking? You old fool!
His thoughts were bitter. Terrick and Janim had been like brothers once, pulled out of a burning warehouse by a certain constable…one hereditarily immune to fire. She had shielded over a dozen children to bring them out of their own personal hell, one of her earlier accomplishments after the council finally agreed to allow her to serve the city in exchange for feeding her; a bargain Terrick had felt Zizzy had repaid the city for thousands of times over.
He put his thoughts aside as the platform slid to a standstill with a quiet whisper, locking in place on the city side of the gap in the cliffs. He started with a light jog to loosen up old muscles that, he had to admit, didn’t get as much exercise as they needed at his age, then relaxed into a steady run. The streets were deserted, a combination of the nervous anticipation that had infected the city and the late hour. The glowing runic nodes every few blocks cast an eerie golden light and threw sections of the street into deep shadow. He crossed a footbridge that led to a fork: the right-hand road hugged the cliffside and led into the lowest residential section of the Upper District, where Zizzy kept house; the left cut through a gap in the cliff, the forked tines of Stormbreak Hold visible on the other side, arcs of golden lightning rippling up their length.
Turning into the gap, Terrick finally used a Skill. [Phase Dash] cost him a healthy amount of Stamina, but closed merchant stalls and shuttered houses passed in a blur and a rush of wind. The sound barely registered in his ears, the familiar effect of his skill shielding him from being buffeted by the air as it was shunted aside to allow him passage. Trained mages could formulate spells with similar effects, but the inherent skill was a rare one that he had learned while working as a delivery boy in his own youth before gaining his Class. Continued use of [Phase Dash] brought him closer and closer to his destination.
The temple itself was layered with protective wards and had its own guards; the two at the door drew their blades halfway from their sheaths as Terrick appeared out of thin air. People milled about just inside the gates, as did several more of the temple guards. They weren’t career soldiers, merely older retired classers who took an easy posting for quiet work and the meager stipend; they didn’t seem to know what to do about a crisis that wasn’t an actual attack. An older priestess sat on the steps, her saddened expression telling Terrick all he didn’t want to know.
“He’s asking for you,” she said quietly.
“I’m too late to stop it?”
“He waited until the atrium was empty after evening bell for supper. Blocked the doors with one of the pews; nobody expected him to skip a meal. He claimed he had to, but…his heart couldn’t take it. The healers say his regen is simply not enough to sustain him.”
“Blocked the door with one of the pews?” Terrick asked disbelievingly. “Those heavy iron-oak bastards?”
“It was always easy to forget how strong he was in his prime, you know.” The priestess chuckled grimly. “Go on, he’s waiting for you, and the elixir will wear off soon. I don’t need divination to know what will happen then.”
He strode past the priestess, up the steps and through the main doors. Supplicants and temple staff alike packed the hall, the doors to the temple atrium standing half-ajar with a broken pew leaning to one side. He could hear his old friend fussing before he closed half the distance.
“Move aside, you slack-jawed goblinspawn! Terrick’s here! And I need to tell him!”
“He’s almost here and you know it, now lay back so you don’t burn through the elixir any faster than you have to,” responded a quietly commanding voice.
“I’ve known the moment of my death for days, you old hag! Terrick!” The portly priest was shouting by the time he called Terrick’s name. The sad truth of recovery elixirs was that even if they weren’t enough to restore a patient to health, they still made a person feel restored. Until, that is, they wore off. Many had been the adventurer who, under the false aegis of a healing potion, had refused treatment only to die of what proved to be mortal wounds after the tonics wore off.
“Calm down, old man, I’m here.” Terrick spoke with a joviality he did not truly feel, but his friend deserved more than his anger in his last moments. “Was this truly the only way?”
“Bah,” retorted the dying priest. “I’ve been dreaming my death for weeks; knew today was the day for a while now. And there’s things you need to know. I wasn’t going to survive to see tomorrow’s dawn regardless.”
“You’d say that either way, old friend.”
“Regardless, you need to know.” Janim pushed a fussing temple acolyte away after repeating himself, and struggled upright, using the altar for support and pushing his scrying orb and incense chalice out of the way. Ritualized divination was a Stamina- and Mana-intensive ordeal, and the circle drawn in chalk on the floor still glowed with traces of the old diviner’s magic. “The Defiler.”
Terrick crouched down next to his friend, concern and grief sequestered in the name of duty. “Go on.”
“He’s not coming for the city, Terrick. The array has been pulling in Mana from the ley lines under the island, and he’s following one while getting stronger. It’s how he’s gotten ahead of the Constable.”
“Is she not drawing from the ambient magic as well?”
“She is, yes, but not as quickly. And your Warden’s contingency is useless. The [Oracle] herself sundered the chains of the Geas, both the summoner’s bindings and the Bloodbind Gem the council demanded when they let her join the Wardens.”
Janim coughed suddenly, the intensity fading from his voice as he slumped against the altar. “I guess the potion is wearing off. You have to hold him off until the Constable arrives.”
“Where? You said he’s following--”
“The ley lines!” Janim responded, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. “They all run to--” The priest wheezed, rapidly growing too tired to continue.
A dull horror worked its way into Terrick’s voice. “Stormbreak Hold. The circle under the spires.”
“You don’t have to worry about the Constable, Terrick,” Janim said quietly, mortality robbing his voice of power. “Succubi all want to be mothers, and their damnation…is that they can never bear children. Zizzy sees us, all of us she saved, as her children. She won’t…can’t harm us.”
“And The Defiler…” Terrick’s sadness broke through in his words.
“He killed children, Terrick,” gasped the priest. Even on the verge of death the old man managed a vicious grin. “Just hold him off until she catches up.” He coughed, breath starting to come more rapidly. “I’m glad I get to go first...to show her the way…” His grin gave way to a beatific smile as he turned his eyes to the ceiling.
And then, the light faded from his eyes and Janim slouched, his head drooping as his last breath rattled out of his lungs. The healer who had been trying to ease the priest’s last moments stood in shock. “The--” He choked on the words.
“Yes, The Defiler. He warned me in time,” replied Terrick, pulling the bottle from his belt and taking several long draws of the bitter solution. Standard practice among apothecary and alchemist classes was to make such brews taste strongly medicinal to keep people from abusing them without need, but need was what he had today. “Send runners,” he instructed. “All you have here, to all the nodes. All available men are to make for the Hold immediately.”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at the motionless healer, the bitter tincture harshing his words even above his intent. “Don’t gape at me like a fish, man! Send word, the Wardens! To Stormbreak Hold!”
The healer recoiled as if slapped, backing away before shouting for messengers. Terrick knelt down and closed Janim’s eyes. “You told me in time, old friend. Sleep easy.” He didn’t wait any longer, activating [Phase Dash] while still within the temple. It had been years since he’d had reason to use it twice in one day, and months since he’d used it at all. He ignored the aches in his legs, refusing to admit he was even older than Janim. He cleared the front steps of the temple on his way out the door, a muted thunderclap following in his wake as his heels slammed into the flagstones to launch himself down the approach. From the Temple to the main boulevard of the Upper District took him less than a handful of heartbeats, and his momentum carried him into the side of a shuttered brick storefront as he made the turn at speed. His boots left cracked imprints in the stone wall as he kicked off to sprint towards Stormbreak Hold.
I’m sure I just woke somebody up in there, he thought with a twinge of amusement. He had no time to stop and express his apologies, however. He raced onwards, up the low hill upon which sat Stormbreak Hold itself. Magic pulsed in the air and in the ground, and even his mastered [Phase Dash] skill was beginning to have trouble pushing the mana aside. Three swirling bands of energy flowed in twisting ribbons from larger nodes in the lower parts of the city, spiraling through the air to connect to the front of the building. They crackled and spat like lightning, but the flow of mana pulled the sparks back into line before they could drop to the ground. As he approached the Hold, nothing appeared amiss, so Terrick ran to the left, circling the structure. Arcs of mana flowed into the building from all sides, and as he rounded the corner to the south face, he noticed that one such arc was weaker than its mates, flickering worryingly.
He slowed to a stop, seeing nothing wrong with the building itself. [Phase Dash] fading left him feeling slightly drained, and he took another swig from the bottle on his hip. He could hear alarm bells in the distance, and stopped himself just short of following the flickering mana-stream into the boulder-strewn hills and ravines that lead south into the interior of the island. Above the hold itself, a vortex had formed between the three forked spires, and the Mana began to flow faster, crawling up the building to feed it. Two figures in the signature grey-and-green warden uniforms came dashing out of a side entrance, baring steel before recognizing their commander.
“He’s coming,” said Terrick. “No spells. Be ready.”
Both Wardens saluted before falling into step to his left. The sky to the south was lit in eerie red hues, as though a fire raged just beyond the horizon. “Sir! I thought he didn’t have magic of his own!”
“He doesn’t,” replied Terrick with a smile. Hellfire had a familiar tint that was unmistakable to any who had ever witnessed it. “We just have to hold him for the Constable. She grows stronger as well.”
“Are you sure she can take him?” the third warden asked. Terrick answered with his blade and another Skill, [Quickstep], turning on his heel and stepping a pace to the side. His dueling blade parted the air with a snapping whistle as it crossed where the Defiler’s neck had been a fraction of a moment before. The [Mage-Eater] dropped its glamour as it realized Terrick had seen through it. “More observant than the others,” it growled at him. The form was hunched with elongated arms, seeming to blend into shadows while fighting the light that tried to illuminate its body. “Even that hellfire bitch couldn’t spot me that fast.”
The Lord-Commander was too slow to stop The Defiler as the beast -- having long ago left behind the trappings of humanity for whatever abominable class he had unlocked -- leapt back, and the two younger Wardens dropped to the ground. The twin thumps of their bodies were followed by the twin thumps of their severed heads, eyes widened in their final shock. Terrick raised his sword, relaxing into a practiced stance.
“Whatcha gonna do with that pig-sticker?” the Defiler taunted.
Terrick, Lord-Commander of the Stormbreak Wardens, did not grace the beast before him with a reply. The [Spellsabre Duelist] had no need for words at the precipice of battle. He invoked his class abilities, feeling them start to pulse through his body in sync with the beat of his heart. He enjoyed a significant advantage here, against a [Mage-Eater] -- he was no mage. His mana stayed within him, not heeding the Defiler’s ravenous hunger.
Bestial eyes gleamed as the monster took a deep breath. The pull intensified, and the flickering mana stream above it bent, dipping to within a few feet. Sparks flew off and were drawn into that shadowy maw, the beast inhaling the magic; the shadows wreathing its form grew even darker as it set its stance.
“All that time I wasted on children and boring old women. There’s so much fun to have here in this world, and no one to stop me.”
The voice rumbled low and gravelly, barely understandable with the physical changes to the vocal cords. Terrick still did not respond, stepping sideways to keep himself between the monster and the building. He could feel the array gaining power, and knew he had to keep his foe away from the vortex. The Defiler paced side to side like a prowling cat, and Terrick met every exploratory lunge with the tip of his blade.
Without warning, the beast charged him, low to the ground and on all fours. Even with [Haste] aiding Terrick’s movements, he barely managed to step aside. His sword flickered out in a riposte, a rapid flurry of strikes as he danced out of reach and left the monster hamstrung and bleeding, the thick black ichor sizzling and smoking as it hit the air. He almost got me there, Terrick thought grimly. Can’t let him close; I’m in better shape than Janim, but my own regen isn’t as good as it used to be…
And so, Terrick danced. A few years younger, a little bit faster, and he may have been able to end it right then and there. But the Lord-Commander’s beard had been grey for years, with aches and pains in his joints having long become an everyday ordeal instead of the occasional annoyance. It was only decades of experience, and no small bit of luck, that kept him from losing his head when his boot slipped on a bloody patch of stone. He tucked himself into the fall, a clawed hand passing close enough to his head that the wind of its passage tugged at his hair. He rolled back, using [Quickstep] to recover his footing and face The Defiler once again.
“You don’t scare like the others. Finally. Someone worth the trouble, even if you ain’t pretty like the young ones.” Its growling voice seemed somehow respectful.
“A man I considered my brother died a few minutes ago. Compared to that? You’re merely a distraction, a loose end that needs tying off before I move on to actual important things today.” Terrick’s tone was flat and empty, devoid of emotion and his words slow and measured. It mocked the defiler in its matter-of-fact delivery, the Warden refusing to take the bait. The Defiler abandoned conversation with a blindingly fast leap forwards.
But the Lord-Commander’s words had been slow and measured because, to his own perception, he was already moving extremely fast. The [Spellsabre Duelist] didn’t engage in flashy spellwork like a [Mage]; his magic was focused inwards, and he had activated another skill the moment the beast had been revealed. Terrick saw the monster approach in slow motion from the effects of his own internal [Haste] skill. The skill was much more Mana-intensive than [Phase Dash], and it was something he had to use sparingly at his age with his reduced regeneration. But its usefulness was undeniable; it permitted him to take measured steps sideways and back while ducking under the onrushing arm, talons seeking his heart. His sword came up, flicked down, then came up again. The arcing magic overhead flashed. The blade swept sideways, then back and down again.
He let [Haste] fade away, panting to catch his breath. The Defiler had managed to avoid being decapitated, but four distinct pieces of one arm and a gnarled and disfigured foot lay on the ground. The beast itself thrashed in mixed fury and agony, its gurgling snarls painting the stones with sprays of ichor. It rolled away from the Warden, rage boosting its speed. Its severed limbs were already growing back as it lurched upright. The shadows around it deepened as it inhaled again, and the band of glowing magic above them snapped.
The Defiler gulped down the raw mana, growing larger and more hideous. When the ribbon of light connected to the building snapped back into place, the stone erupted. Terrick could hear screams from inside the breached wall and the vortex above began to wobble dangerously. Thunderous cracks and explosive shards of magic flew off in all directions as it bounced between the tines.
The monster heaved on all fours, gasping gravelling breaths. “I don’t know why you people would build such a thing, and I don’t care. I think I’m gonna stay here after I kill you all, and just keep eating the magic. Do you think there’s enough to make me a god? I might leave then, go back to my old world to have some fun.”
Terrick kept his eyes on the beast as the golden light began to shift into a deeper red that cast a vivid sunset hue on the courtyard. He flourished his blade, letting his Magic flow into the steel. The Defiler watched the blade with wary eyes, already cut more than once. “You don’t throw your magic,” it observed carefully. “You hold it. But that won’t save you, it just means I have to get closer.”
“Try me, beast.” Terrick gave a flourish, letting his sword go from fiery red to icy blue. The roaring cyclone of power above the magical fortress drowned out the approaching wingbeats, and he grinned with savage triumph. Just as the creature was readying itself to leap again, an enraged and empowered Constable Zizzy slammed into the middle of its back with both feet. Most of her uniform had been burned away, but her boots had been made of sturdier material than the rest of her attire. The unbound demon descended upon the Defiler with enough force to shatter the pavement and drop it two feet below the roadbed.
Terrick stumbled back, fearing she had destabilized the array even further. Several [Mages] had already reinforced the broken wall, shoving the rubble away and shoring up the damaged section on either side. It left the interior of Stormbreak Hold open to view, where over a dozen robed figures stood around a massive table displaying a map of the island and its surroundings, above which floated a series of concentric bronze rings. .
The Constable screamed, primal fury given a terrible voice. She, too, had been drawing on the gathered magic to grow stronger -- and it showed. Every beat of her wings shed sparks of hellfire that lingered on the stones and burned tracers into Terrick’s vision. She was a living inferno, an ember hellstorm writ in crimson flames, and the Defiler screamed in return as those flames burned into its back.
The beast inhaled, and instead of the arcing Mana of the array it was Zizzy’s hellfire that flowed into its maw. It screamed again as the fires began to burn it from the inside, and the laugh that came from the succubus chilled Terrick’s spine despite the growing heat. Her laughter was short-lived, however, as the flames glowing within the monster’s chest began to darken and dim. The fire went from crimson to black, shadows growing as the Defiler gave a grim chuckle. A shadow-wreathed hand snapped up and latched around the succubus’s neck, and then slammed her into the ground once, twice, a third and fourth time before the monster stood up.
“I ripped one of your wings off already,” it growled. “If I take both, will they stay gone this time?”
Zizzy tried to roll away, her crushed face already beginning to heal, the broken nose and flattened mouth crunching as bones shifted into place and regrew. The Defiler reached down and picked her up by one ankle to stop her escape, swinging her up and overhead to slam her back down into the ground. This time, the heavy wooden door that had once adorned the wall of the Hold broke her fall. It splintered but did not break, and the beast pushed her face-first into it as it straddled her shattered form. Terrick felt hope begin to die as it wrapped one arm around Zizzy’s neck, pulling her head back. A beheading was a sure-fire way to banish a demon.
Zizzy’s eyes met his, and she smiled -- and laughed. Her skin blurred, and her broken legs suddenly snapped backwards around the monster’s waist, locking together by her ankles. Her arms likewise encircled the grotesque form as her face melted away to reappear nose-to-nose with the Defiler. “Mine now,” she breathed at him, voice husky with a desire that knocked Terrick back from almost twenty paces away.
And then the Constable Kissed the Defiler.
Intimacy and lethality had never been so closely intertwined as in the case of a Succubus and her Kiss; it attracted and repelled at the same time, a sensuously deadly display that weakened the knees and averted the gaze. Terrick’s cheeks burned hot to behold it as Zizzy devoured the beast from the inside, setting aflame what she did not consume. The Defiler tried to pull his face away from hers, but to no avail. The monster seemed to shrivel as the demon fed. A thread of burning black energies trailed out of its mouth as the Constable inhaled, her expression languid and almost sleepy, her own fires brightening to a vivid crimson as the shadowed flames of her prey dimmed and faded. With one final exhausted gasp, the last of its life vanished into her mouth. Terrick found himself unable to stand, shaken by the sight. He had never before witnessed the Constable in the act of feeding.
She sat there, then, cradling the dried-out husk of what had been the Defiler, seeming to luxuriate in the afterglow of her effort. She sprawled on the ruined wooden door like a courtesan on her bed, oblivious to the splintered edges gouging her skin. The remnants of her uniform were merely singed tatters that did nothing to preserve her modesty, but he could see that the badge remained affixed to the last remnants of her tunic. Neither the Demon nor the Lord-Commander had any words for the moment, one threat ended -- but the future left uncertain. The destabilized vortex of energies swirled with magical violence above, and the tines of the three forked spires groaned audibly while lightning flashed overhead. Zizzy shoved the dessicated corpse to the side, flowing up to her feet with a graceful flick of her wings. Decency was restored as her demonic glamour regrew the image of her uniform around her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said to Terrick. “I’m still me, even unbound.”
He grinned back at her, lurching himself to his feet and dusting himself off. “You never can tell. You’re a Warden yourself; you know what I’m thinking.”
Before she could respond, a pair of robed figures came rushing out of Stormbreak Hold, stepping across the rubble to approach Terrick and the Constable. Mana crystals floated around the Storm Breakers inside the building, and coruscating ribbons of power circled the team controlling the Array.
“The array is destabilizing, Lord-Commander! We don’t have enough power to keep it under control!” said one of the wizards, the golden brooch with the broken storm emblem gleaming on her collar. “The Arch-Master and the rest of us will hold it as long as we can, but you need to evacuate the island. The city, at the very least; when we lose the array, it’ll take the whole mountaintop with it!”
“Someone needs to send word to the mainland, if anyone survives,” continued her male counterpart, his face ashen with fear. “He must have damaged one of the southern nodes, and the backlash from blowing the wall didn’t help either. But we don’t have enough power to be sure -- when it blows it’s just as likely to make the storm worse as it is to split it up.”
Zizzy had simply stood there, staring up at the vortex while the mages gave their report to Terrick. She seemed unfazed by the dread news, while his heart twinged in fear for the people of the island. And the mainland too; the Mana-Storm was worse than any in living memory, rivalled only by dim legend. The only reason he had not already taken off running was that there simply was no time. Not for an evacuation, even if the Breakers could hold the Array for an entire day. If there were a Wavecutter from the Swiftwater Guild at the docks, he could possibly at least get a message out. But one ship could never take enough people to make a difference in the coming destruction. Terrick opened his mouth, not entirely sure what his next orders -- his last orders -- would be.
He was saved, however, by a sensuous voice. “If you had more power, would it work?”
Terrick and both mages turned to look at Zizzy as she spoke. She never looked away from the vortex, her wings rustling gently while her tail flicked back and forth, much like a cat’s.
“You said you don’t have enough power to fire it. It’s destabilized, and gonna blow the island, right? So…if you had enough power, everything would be alright?”
“Uh…Yes, that’s technically true,” said the woman. “But there aren’t enough Mana Potions or crystal wells and other artifacts on the entire Island to make a difference.”
The constable shook her wings and stretched languorously before turning to face Terrick. “It’s just a matter of time before the council has me banished, you know. They won’t risk an Unbound, and I won’t fight them.”
“What do you mean? You’ve earned your place here! Saved so many!” The words scraped their way out of his throat, and he had crossed half the distance before she rose into the air and out of his reach.
“I did save a lot. My kind have no children, Terrick...but I have hundreds.” Her face looked serene, voice calm and relaxed as she spoke. “I hope all of you remember me. Demons don’t get Stories. And no one would remember me if all of you die.”
Before he could say another word, Zizzy shot upwards, great beats of her fiery wings bearing her skyward, level with the tips of the spires and then higher still. She hung there a moment, with Stormbreak Isle spread below her.
Then, she heeled over and dove between the spires, a red aura wrapping around her and granting her a comet-like tail as she plunged into the vortex’s heart. The golden bands writhed and changed color to a deep red, before brightening to a hellish crimson.
Terrick could only watch, mouth agape, as the vortex howled like the demon who had just fed it, bolts of crimson lashing between all three forks. It stopped wobbling, holding steady and pulsing like a great and terrible heart. Its spin stabilized, growing faster with each passing moment.
The Storm Breakers around the table stood straighter, galvanized by the sudden infusion. “It’s working!” one of them called from her position. Terrick could barely hear her, but evidence of her words was abundant as traces of sulphurous light crawled up the tines, the underlying array saturated with hellfire.
As the vortex shrunk, the mages raised their arms in unison, the Arch-Master’s cowl falling back to reveal a shock of yellow-grey hair atop intensely focused eyes. A silver sphere grew into existence between his hands, covered in thousands of tiny runes which glowed to match the fires of the Constable’s sacrifice. He floated it over the table, positioning it above one particular section of the grey, stormy mass.
“Targeting is set!” he called, voice partially muffled by the wind. “Make ready to fire the Array!” Power thrummed beneath the mages, and before Terrick had a chance to shield his eyes, night turned to day.
The vortex squeezed tighter still, then shot away like a great lance, shattering the acoustic enchantments and setting the entire island to shuddering. A solid red-gold blade of light sliced its way through the air, rocketing towards the west to banish the darkness.
The sound of the Array’s firing had been as a physical blow, and it had flattened the Lord-Commander and the two mages unfortunate enough to be outside the hold. Terrick clambered back to his feet, ears ringing. The spires above Stormbreak Hold had already begun to fade into dormancy, the magic returning to the subterranean leylines now that its purpose had been fulfilled. Inside the hall, the Arch-Master leaned against the table, the other mages variously sitting or laying on the ground and trying to catch their breath. The man seemed older than Terrick had ever seen him, the effort wizening him. His hearing had recovered just enough to make out the man’s words as he spoke, surveying the table:
“It is done,” he said in wonder. “We’re not out of the woods…but the Worldstorm has been broken.”
As if that had been what he was waiting for, the Arch-Master collapsed to the ground.
Terrick, Lord-Commander of the Stormbreak Wardens, grieved in silence.
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 28: Crimson Ruin",
"author": "a_man_in_black",
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"genre": [
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|
Morgan Mackenzie found herself in a dream. She knew it was a dream. She stood at the entrance to Dina’s Diner, the same tiny shop where her parents had taken her to lunch every Sunday through her entire childhood, the same place where her father had continued to take her to lunch every week after her mother finally succumbed to the ravages of a cancer the doctors couldn’t save her from.
The creaky sign hanging below the awning, swaying in a late-morning breeze; the faded paint and antique windows which characterized the building’s facade; the familiar smells of carefully-prepared food -- they all soothed her, and she knew they couldn’t exist on Anfealt, but they were not what told her she was dreaming.
She knew it had to be a dream because she was wearing clothes, and her tattoos no longer stood out on what skin was still exposed. Her reflection in the diner’s glass door was missing the enchantment across her eyes, and her hands and arms, as she reached towards the door, were once more bare and pale. After so many months au naturel, the experience was jarring, every bit of fabric against her skin an uncomfortable irritant she could not ignore. From the socks squeezing her feet to the pants and the blouse settled on her like a pall, the clothes made for a numbing barrier between her skin and the sky. It was like suddenly being in a cage, and the underwear was the worst -- not that the sensation was unbearable, she simply could not help but be aware of it.
She hastily peeled the blouse over her head and let it drop to the ground, then stood there in shock as it vanished from the space between her hand and the steps in front of the diner, only to instantly reappear on her body. She spent nearly a full minute futilely struggling to remove the offending garments. No sooner did a shoe or blouse or bra leave her hands than it flickered back to its original place. Finally, lightly panting with exertion, she resigned herself to her discomfort, stepping forward and crossing the diner’s threshold.
The familiar jingle of the bell was as soothing as the scents coming from the open kitchen, where a quite sturdily built, motherly woman with an apron stood before a griddle, while deftly using the tools of her trade to flip pancakes and tend to skillets sizzling with sausages and eggs. Morgan turned to the far corner of the diner, starting to approach the figure she had somehow known would be there.
She felt small again, and safe, gazing across the restaurant at the man sitting in the back corner booth. There was more grey at his temples than she was used to, but otherwise this could have come from any scene in her memory: he sat, as always, with his back to the corner, affording him clear sight to every exit and window. He was dressed in the same work boots, jeans, and flannel shirt she always remembered, and the set of his body was identical: ramrod-straight, shoulders back, the gun just barely peeking out of the old leather jacket keeping him just off the back cushion. The weapon had been in his family for two generations before him, and she’d never seen him without it.
As Morgan approached, Max turned his attention to the familiar spread of food, setting down his coffee. As it had always been, it consisted of bacon, eggs, biscuits and gravy, with a side of hominy grits. A waitress dressed in a nondescript uniform with features Morgan somehow couldn’t focus on slipped around her and approached the table, the dream seeming to snap into greater focus as she set down her burden across from the man: one egg, sunny side up on its own platter, next to a plate with a single biscuit, opened in halves and slathered in country gravy. Three pieces of crispy bacon and one piece of wheat toast finished the ensemble, together with a small glass of orange juice: the same meal she had eaten every Sunday, ever since she had grown enough to place her own order.
She sat, suddenly nervous. A dozen questions tried to make their way out of her mouth but her father simply pointed at her food.
“Eat first. Then talk. We don’t have long, but it should be enough.”
Morgan didn’t argue the point. The food smelled delicious, like memories of a happier, safer time in her life and the comforts of bygone days. The fork and knife didn’t fall from her fingers, and the glass of juice was perfectly cold in her hand. She wasted no time, enjoying the luxury of actually eating and drinking like a normal person for the first time since she fell through the portal.
It had always been this way, as far back as she could remember. Every Sunday, the family would go to the diner for a family meal, followed by a trip into the city to do the weekly shopping and other errands before piling back into the old, but well-maintained pickup truck to return along the winding roads to the Mackenzie homestead. The ride had grown crowded as her older brothers had grown, then was very suddenly not crowded enough following her mother’s death. The void left by her passing had left the cab of the truck empty, and had very nearly put an end to the tradition.
Max Mackenzie had insisted the tradition continue, however, and stood fast, an immovable foundation, through the grief as his children had grown. Morgan’s brothers had graduated from school and enlisted, but she had continued meeting her father every single Sunday, even after she had moved into the city and started classes at the university. They had never missed a single week, until she had found herself in another world. As always, the Mackenzie patriarch allowed no conversation until the meal was properly done. He tucked into his own food as she devoured hers, flagging down the waitress for a refill of his coffee to wash it down. They ate in silence, focused on the meal before them. It wasn’t until the plates were stacked at the end of the table for the waitress to reclaim when she brought them another refill that Max finally spoke.
“You first,” he said warmly. “I’ll tell you my side after.”
“I--” she stammered. “I’m not sure where to even begin…”
“Start from the beginning, of course. I knew something was wrong when you didn’t show up on Sunday.”
She took a deep breath to steady her whirling thoughts. “Well, I had a horrible day at work. Stuck with a double shift, then caught my boyfriend cheating on me--” She paused as his expression went momentarily blank, then flickered with amusement, before returning to his normal attentive gaze. “I’d decided to go out and have some fun to get over it all, went to take a bath, and then the bathtub fell through a hole in the world.”
As if finally saying it opened a floodgate, she told him everything. How she had landed in the tree, how she had made mistakes with her first few levels and nearly starved to death in a matter of minutes. She spoke of how she had eaten the fruit and how delicious it had been. He nodded at that, and then slid more napkins across the table to her as she recounted burning alive. She hadn’t even realized the tears were running down her face. He waited for her to compose herself before prodding her to continue the tale.
He smiled along with her when she recounted her triumphs and achievements, both against monsters and when she had learned magic. He waited patiently as she struggled to recount her mistakes and heartaches. As she told her Story, the sleeves of her blouse began to fray and disappear, heralding the slow return of the tattoos along her hands and arms. The runic patterns slowly etched themselves back onto her skin, the dream-place giving way to the reality of how she now perceived herself. By the time she had finished, she was bare once more. Thankfully, the dream did allow her to drink from her glass with her own hands, a much-needed point of comfort as she told her tale.
“And then that asshole put that thing around my neck,” she seethed, her expression twisting angrily. “I’m gonna finish killing him when I wake up, for that and for that nice mage, too.”
Max smiled, a feral grin that showed no disapproval for his daughter’s newfound tendencies toward violence. “Your puffball friends already saw to that. The little necromancer lost his lunch, but I thought it was one of the more entertaining things I’ve seen in my life.”
“Pffff--!” She almost managed to keep from snorting orange juice across the table. “Exfoliation? Lulu’s vicious when she needs to be!” she exclaimed with a grin.
“Not your Lulu, the little necro’s green one. Wuffle, I think he called it.”
“It must be a species trait,” she said, still grinning. “I feel so much better. But now you. How? You know what I mean...” She trailed off, making a waving gesture with her hand at the dreamworld diner.
“Well, when you didn’t show up that Sunday, I was concerned.”
“Hah! Typical ‘Gunny Mack’ understatement. You don’t have to say it nice for my sake, Dad.”
“Wasn’t going to,” he nodded as he continued. “I checked your apartment first, then went asking around. I started with your boss, then I worked over your boyfriend real good. What clued me in that something wasn’t normal was the tub.”
“The giant clawfoot? It was the entire reason I rented that apartment,” she replied, sipping her juice.
He nodded. “I remember. The landlord had remodeled the apartment and the antique tub was too big to take out through the door after that. But it was gone. So I went back to the apartment. I was a mite bit upset by then, and apparently that was enough for the Le Fay blood to do what it does.”
“Doesn’t explain how you’ve been here for fifteen hundred years!”
“It explains everything.”
She just looked at him, the same smugness she used to find so irritating now a happy thing for her to see. “Please elaborate.”
“It had been nearly a week since you vanished. Whatever planetary or solar or galactic alignment allowed the portals to form, things weren’t lining up right any more. But I saw you land in the tree, and I jumped. The portal couldn’t send me to the same place at the same time, but it sent me to the same place in a different time.” He paused to take another drink of his coffee. “I landed a few years after Arthur died, and the Kingdoms of New Breton had fallen to civil war looking for the Sword so someone could claim his crown.”
“Wow.” She could only stare while that information sank in. “So...Moghren really is the one from the legends?”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “And our distant ancestor. Be careful around the old witch. She isn’t evil, but her motivations aren’t always necessarily good either. She made bargains, the same as we did. She’s the one who planted the tree, as well.”
“I don’t remember making any deals…”
“You traded your modesty for power. I’m guessing there’s a catch, too.”
“What? You mean the stuff the other version of me talked about when I got my class?” Morgan’s thoughts spun as she tried to remember. She had not seen it as a bargain at the time, but it certainly was one now that she actually considered it. “The catch is that I can’t ignore ‘soul crime’, and I think I’m starting to figure out what that means…”
“Yes,” grinned Max. “As much as I hate to see you roped into it, at least that’s a worthy cause to be bound to. Just be very careful about any such agreements you might make in the future.”
“The woman with the bow, Terisa. I could feel the gem shatter, and hear the soul inside screaming. I have to find a way to help!” Morgan’s runes flared on her skin, the magic responding to her emotions even in the dream.
“Calm down,” said her father. “I’ve been stuck here for…” He sat back, concentration lining his forehead. “I’m actually not sure. As the Titan I wander, clearing disturbances from the Ley Lines in service to the Tree. I sleep for decades or more until something comes up; that was part of my bargain so I could stick around long enough to be sure I’d be here when you arrived.”
“It would have to be at least fifteen hundred years, if Moghren told the truth about when the ‘Titan’ arrived. I’m pissed she didn’t tell me about you, though, if she apparently knows you.”
“She never lies, but she doesn’t always tell the whole truth, and you should never trust her. But my point is I’ve lived long enough to see and learn many things, and there are options available to help the soul trapped in the gem.”
“So what are we waiting for?” It was as if knowing there were ways to help triggered some instinct in her own soul, the urge to help a victim of something that the System itself considered the only sin.
“I said wait,” her father almost snapped, the stern warning in his voice an all-too familiar signal that he had important things to say. “You aren’t the only one who made bargains, and if you want to make sure I don’t eat your newfound friends, you need to listen before we rejoin the waking world. Communication is difficult for me out there.”
“Oh.” Properly chagrined, she waited for him to continue.
“The gem is shattered, and as we speak the Huntress is trying to bully the necromancer into binding her sister’s soul. She has the best intentions, but if he does that, more than just the spirit in the gem will be passing through the veil. If the Titan rages, you and I will be the only survivors.” He delivered the statement as a matter of fact, voice flat and without inflection. “The Titan exists as a corrective contingency. If lines are crossed, and I can sense it, then I restore the natural order in the most old-fashioned way.”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “Eep! You mean-”
“I kill and eat everything that offends the balance. Not always in that order.”
“Oh,” she said again, quiet for a moment. “So the story Terisa told, when those kids said you ‘ate the bad men’…”
“Truth.”
She could feel her food trying to come back up when he made the admission with no hesitation, but regained her composure after drinking from her glass.
“So how do we help the poor soul in the gem?”
Max paused once again, waiting politely as the waitress refilled his coffee and Morgan’s juice. Only after another few sips did he continue. “First, you’ll have to get Terisa to calm down. If it weren’t for the love of her sister that she’s trying to make the necromancer do this, I’d have already eaten her. You might have to kick her ass real good, beat some sense into her.”
“After that?”
“Then, we need the necromancer to do what his kind are supposed to do. Prepare a path for the soul to pass on peacefully. Not all Soul Magic is bad, far from it. You can’t beat a good necromancer when it comes to settling spirits and wraiths. It’s only the bad ones that are a problem.”
“Is passing on the only way we can help Terisa’s sister?”
Max shook his head, holding up a finger in admonishment. “No, but the option must be presented. We can offer her a choice. But only the Soul itself can make that choice. If she chooses to pass into the after, that choice will be respected!” His fist slammed into the table with the last words, a sharp thudding impact adding power to the declaration.
Morgan nodded in understanding. “I can get behind that. So what’s the other option we offer?”
“Well, that huntress keeps cradling the pieces of a bow along with the bag holding the shards of the gem. Her sister must have somehow been trapped in the Soul Gem, and at some point that was used as the core of a weapon.”
“I think I can see how that would work,” Morgan agreed. I’m not very familiar with Soul Magic, but I do know some of my Skills like [Mana Link] use it, and some of my runes.”
He nodded, finishing off his coffee. “Well, seems to me, if the soul in the gem was the core of a weapon before…” He reached into his jacket, drawing his sidearm and setting it on the table, fingers trailing over its frame. “This was my father’s before me, and his father’s before him. I can’t use it out there, and neither can you. But with that necromancer’s help...and your talent with crystal…” He looked up from the gun, meeting his daughter’s eyes.
“I think I see where you’re going with this,” replied Morgan with a sudden grin.
“Then it’s about time to wake up, I think, before that woman manages to twist that poor fella’s arm until he does something truly stupid.”
She smiled. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“I’m glad we got to visit,” he said, suddenly somber once more. “We won’t be able to do this again, unless you intend to make a habit of exhausting yourself and nearly dying.” He stood, flipping a few bills onto the table to pay for the meal.
“I sorta got the feeling that it was gonna be like that,” she replied, standing up and turning towards the door. “I’m more surprised you haven’t yelled at me for being naked.”
He stopped, halfway to the door, and glanced over his shoulder. “You were born that way.” He shrugged. “You seem more than capable of slapping down anyone stupid enough to get handsy, so that’s your business. For now, though, we’re out of time.”
He strode through the door and vanished, with Morgan following close behind.
==========================================
Morgan Mackenzie woke up feeling more refreshed and rested than she ever had since arriving in the Wildlands. The benefits of talking to someone and just letting it all out were not to be understated, even in a dream. She wasn’t given much time to savor the feeling, as tense, angry shouting soon intruded on her thoughts. She sat up and looked around, pushing herself up from a bed of vines and moss. Lulu hopped up her arm to resume her rightful place on Morgan’s shoulder with a contented purble. The Titan rose to his feet behind her with a low rumble, and she grinned up at her father before hopping down to the ground and approaching the rather distraught Terisa. The huntress was struggling, restrained by the half-Ursaran, Foz. Her husband, if I remember right, thought Morgan as she approached.
“I know it is forbidden!” the woman yelled at a rather uncomfortable looking Biggles, straining against Foz’s iron grip. The Necromancer had backed away from Terisa, who seemed on the edge of violence as she continued. “I said I would pay the price!”
“It doesn’t work that way!” responded Biggles, a disturbed Wuffle on his shoulder. The pale green scrubby didn’t seem to know why its friend was upset, but it could tell something had the Necromancer agitated. It noisily puffled its disapproval from its perch. “It would still be my magic, and I would suffer the consequences too. I do not bind souls!”
Terisa seemed to sag in Foz’s arms. “Then--” she choked out, clutching the leather bag with the shards, where Morgan could still sense a soul in the throes of agony. “Then let me take her place, like she took mine…”
Biggles shook his head, a pained expression on his face. “All that would accomplish would be your death. She’d wear your body like a cheap suit, and she would still be suffering.”
Morgan cleared her throat loudly, stepping between the two and interrupting their disagreement. “My dad has a solution, I think.”
“No. Binding,” the Titan said in his low bass, staring down at the squabbling pair.
“Yeah, we get that,” replied Morgan to the giant, waving her hand up at him before turning back to Terisa. “So, like he said, no binding or everyone dies. And the odds are pretty even as to whether he ate you or I burned you first. That’s not negotiable.”
“That’s also not a solution!” snapped Terisa.
“It’s not just a question of if it should be done,” said Biggles. “Even if I were willing, we’re not in my workshop; I don’t have what I’d need. That’s a problem for more reasons than you realize! If we don’t cleanse the spirits of the fallen, we’ll have wraiths or geists within three days from the Shackled who died.”
“What?” asked Morgan, her instincts flaring with the new revelation.
The Necromancer slowly waved his hand towards the bodies stacked against one wall of the fort, something the survivors must have done while Morgan was out. “The scrubbies and your um, father, devoured most of them,” he said. His face paled and he shuddered at the memory. “But they seemed drawn to the ones who were already corrupt in spirit. Nessara and these others were merely victims, Nessara especially. Damaged souls have trouble crossing the veil.”
The Titan rumbled his displeasure, but confirmed Biggles’ statements.
“Sad thing. Hurt souls. Suffer.”
“Exactly. I need to prepare a cleansing circle,” said the man, looking up at the Titan. “But when I send the others to the after, Althenea will be drawn with them without an anchor. I don’t have the tools to make one.”
“Hence my father’s offer,” said Morgan as the giant raised one oversized hand to his side. “I can help with the magic, and he’s got an anchor I think might be suitable. We need you to give her soul a choice, though.”
Terisa had finally calmed down, and stepped away from Foz, who had warily released her. “What do you mean about a choice?”
“She has to be free to pass on or stay,” answered the [Skyclad Sorceress]. “That part isn’t negotiable. No binding.”
The huntress seemed on the verge of protest, but Dana, who had been standing nearby, pulled her aside with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “A choice is better than most get,” said the armored engineer, voice soft with compassion. “She’s suffering; all of us can feel it, not just the mages.”
“I remember you.” The Titan had turned to observe Terisa, lowering his bulk to speak more directly to her. “Badger’s pupil.”
“Yes,” replied the woman. “Kamaga tried to stop the others from attacking you my first trip out here.”
“They chose. Their fate.” Even through his inhuman tone, the lack of remorse was clear.
“Yes they did. Thank you for not chasing the rest of us down.”
His hand pushed into his side, crystals crunching along with bark and bone. It pulled away holding a chunk of obsidian larger than Morgan’s head.
“A gift. For Huntress. And Sister.”
Morgan felt her father work magic, then, familiar in tone to her own, but not as volatile as her Fire or as wild as her Earth. It was merely an expression of the Titan’s will, overlaid on reality. The black and grey crystals that made up his armor reshaped themselves, separating and flowing back into his hand as easily as water. As the last shards retracted, and he pulled his hand away, Morgan saw the familiar shape of his Colt pistol reveal itself. As it left the range of the Titan’s own aura, Biggles staggered back, as did everyone else save for herself and Terisa. The weapon pulsed with a threatening aura and a naked lethality, declaring its killing intent to all and sundry. Dana and Kojeg were the first to recover, both struck dumb at the sight.
“Death,” croaked Biggles, nearly cowering before it. “H-How many lives has that weapon taken?” His voice quivered in awe and barely-restrained fear.
“It was his grandfather’s service weapon, and then his father’s, and then his,” said Morgan. “It would have gone to one of my brothers, if he hadn’t come to Anfealt.”
“I don’t understand how this helps,” muttered Terisa with a dejected expression. “I don’t even know what that is; all my Skills revolve around my bow.”
“Then learn more,” replied Dana easily. “I can teach you the basics, and you’d be surprised how quick you pick it up. If not, you can still carry her with you and use another bow.”
“If. Soul. Chooses.”
“Don’t forget that part,” continued Morgan. “Althenea has to choose for herself.”
Terisa reached out, taking the pistol in both hands then bowing to the Titan. “I accept. If Biggles can manage it, I will abide by Althenea’s choice.”
“Morgan. Can help.”
“Yep!” Morgan put her hands on her hips, grinning at Biggles. “What do you need to make this happen, Mister Necromancer?”
Biggles seemed much more relaxed now that the prospect of bindings had been removed from the discussion. “For something like this, we’ll need at least two seven-pointed circles. I’d prefer three, but we don’t have--”
He stopped mid-sentence as Morgan’s magic flared, and with an almost casual expression of magic, a circle of dirt and stone nearly thirty paces across flattened itself in an instant. Purple flames licked along her arms, heating the surface as she compressed the material as densely as she could without [Spell Surge].
“So, three circles?” Indigo sparks leapt from her hands, jumping to the flattened earth that was now as smooth as glass. She waited, looking to the Necromancer for direction.
He shook his head wonderingly, clearing the shock from his mind. “Most would need hours of meditation to inscribe a single circle, and special tools to prepare the ground. It’s been a long time since I worked with a Sorcerer of any sort.”
She grinned back at him. “It has its advantages. So, three equal circles? You need ‘em powered off ambient mana, or a permanent investiture that fades, or what?”
“Not equal size. One large circle,” he said, pointing to the middle of the flattened area. “Seven points for anchoring the array, and since we aren’t binding anything, it just needs to hold magic and not direct it.”
“So the big one is for the shards and the soul?”
“Yes,” nodded the Necromancer. “Then one smaller circle, but no anchoring links. I’ll inscribe the three runes that will allow her to pass through the veil if she chooses that path.”
Terisa waited, almost reverently, as Morgan and Biggles went about their work. The sorceress noticed the other Worldwalker, Dana, watching as well. The helmet of her suit had reconfigured into a thin visor, and the woman seemed to be trying to understand and quantify what was happening. Morgan didn’t mind, simply happy to be putting her magic to use for something she hoped would be actually helpful to someone, and not just destruction. It was even more satisfying to her than building her stone house campsites, although she would probably never give up that particular hobby.
As she worked, she watched the Necromancer fish a pouch out of his robes. He poured a strange grey powder into his hand, and chanted in a language Morgan couldn’t understand, the words somehow blurring together into a continuous stream as he worked a strange magic. Sidling over to him, she inscribed a smaller circle near to where he stood, barely touching the central one. He shook the powder out of his hand, which drifted down to cling, as if magnetized, to the lines she had inscribed.
This must be Death Magic, she realized. It felt similar to Life Magic, but even though it didn’t assail her senses like the collars’ binding magics, it was by no means a comfortable sensation: it felt like a denial, a negation. Maybe it’s not evil, but it’ll never be my thing, she mused.
Biggles finished his spell while she watched, his Necromantic skills empowering the smaller circle. Above the enchantment, a roughly spherical area of space seemed to darken and thin, gently rippling in the air. Even with her [Mana Sight], her eyes wanted to slide away from it.
“The veil is softened here. If she chooses, the soul can pass into the after without pain or regret,” said Biggles. His tone was quiet, almost reverent, as if to speak loudly would disrespect the event. He turned to Terisa, eyes soft. “There is no binding here,” he continued. “I’ve merely opened the door. It’s her choice whether to step through.”
Morgan had finished anchoring the seven equidistant stabilizing runes around the larger circle. The enchantment was already holding ambient magic, and a faint glow of soft pink light seemed to fill the space above. “What do we need for the other circle?”
Biggles walked around the perimeter of the large circle until he stood across from the -- Doorway, I think is the only word for it -- through the veil. “Here, we need a one-way barrier, to hold something in. Not a binding, but a temporary containment, long enough for the larger anchoring circle to take effect.”
Morgan nodded slowly. “I think I can do that...but not with a seven-point circle.” She frowned, glancing down at the stone. “Three-pointed triangle?”
“Just so,” Biggles responded, “but do not link them yourself. That would seal the circle. What we need is, think of--”
“A magical panic room!” Morgan exclaimed, clapping her hands. “So she can link them, if she wants to!”
The necromancer appeared impressed. “Exactly! Where did you get your sorcery training?”
“Oh, nowhere,” she replied. “I’m just winging it.” She grimaced, rolling her shoulder. “Least I haven’t blown my arm off yet…”
The Necromancer gave her a questioning look, and Dana giggled knowingly from outside the flattened area of dirt. Morgan gathered more magic, drawing a circle with three equidistant runes on its edges. Biggles walked up to Terisa, holding out his hands.
“Now we need the shards, and the weapon,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. She handed the Colt to the Necromancer without resistance, but clutched the small leather bag, reluctant to part with it. Biggles led her forward instead of trying to take it from her, the pair of them stopping just outside the larger circle. He held the pistol out over the ‘panic room,’ and Morgan felt his magic rise as he activated the runes. The gun floated gently in the air, held in place by the magic when he retracted his hand.
“As soon as you’re ready, put the pieces of her gem in the circle,” he told Terisa gently. “Her own animus will activate the magic, and she’ll be able to choose.”
The Titan shuffled forward almost gingerly, leaning down and sniffing at the magical array as Terisa stood in silence.
“No bindings. Good magic.”
The hulking form backed away from the group, nodding down at Biggles and baring oversized crystal tusks at Morgan in a proud smile. The huntress stepped up to the central circle. Gently, she opened the leather pouch and poured the shards into her hand. The original gem had shattered into dozens of tiny pieces, but she was only able to recover several large fragments. Almost reverently, Terisa pushed the shards into the circle. They floated above her hand for a few moments, then began to drift towards the center as the seven runes began to glow.
What happened next, Morgan would remember for as long as she lived. The gem fragments flared with a bright, opalescent light, hues of color she’d never seen before flickering deep in their depths. When they glowed bright enough to rival the sun, they suddenly crumbled into tiny, scintillating motes. Terisa sobbed into her hands as the motes spun, swirling in complicated patterns Morgan could never hope to describe, before pulling into the center of the circle. A pulse of magic rippled outward, a sensation that Morgan had only ever felt from her own [Soul Anchor].
Suddenly, in the space of a heartbeat, the figure of a woman appeared where the motes had been. She almost seemed as a statue, one made of colored glass, chipped in places and shot through with cracks. Everyone stood silent -- even Terisa -- and held their breath.
The figure inside the circle was silent, too, but not for lack of trying -- the barrier within which she stood blocked what were clearly desperate, agonized screams, the woman arching her back and clutching her head as the cracks across her body raced along her form, spiderwebbing into tiny fissures.
“What’s wrong?!” Terisa demanded, rounding on the necromancer, eyes rimmed with red.
“The shard was broken, and so was her soul,” he replied gently. “But, look, she’s healing,” he continued, taking her arm and turning her back to the center.
Indeed, the damage to the figure suddenly began to smooth over and disappear, working backwards from the finest fissures to the largest chips. Terisa let out her breath in a great sigh, as her sister finally appeared to relax. Her hands fell away from her head, and she looked up.
Althenea had been beautiful in life, Morgan realized. Standing slightly taller than her sister, with wavy brown hair that she permitted to fall, unbound, to her waist, rather than wearing it bound in a braid. She must have been in there for decades, she realized. She had been told the day before that Terisa was the younger sister, but persisting in the soul gem had spared Althenea the ravages of time, and Terisa no longer bore her sister’s youthful features. I think, though, they must have been twins. Something in the eyes, and the set of their features…
Althenea had moved to stand opposite her sister; Morgan took the opportunity to further compare them. She had reformed wearing what she must have worn when she died; where Terisa wore simple hide and linen in sylvan notes of brown and green, Althenea stood in exquisitely-worked, well-fitted leather. The thicker parts of the armor, over her chest and shoulders were embroidered in green and gold, shot through with the memory of protective magic that Morgan would have dearly loved to study, had she the time. Ghostly daggers were strapped to the woman’s thighs, and hints of metal peeked out from under the edges of her bracers.
Terisa reached out, fingers and hand flattening against the barrier that separated the living and the dead. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I stopped paying attention, I turned my back for just a moment.”
Biggles withdrew, allowing the Huntress and her sister this moment together. He turned to Morgan and murmured, “Give her a moment, then link the three circles together. That’ll let her make the choice.”
Morgan nodded, then stepped back as well. For the first time since arising, she glanced at the rest of the Expedition’s survivors aimlessly milling about the wagons. Most of them seemed too overcome by a combination of fear and awe to approach, averting their gaze whenever she looked their way. Only the beastkin seemed unaffected.
Her father had lumbered back to the wall of the fort, leaning against the stone and picking his teeth with a broken tree limb almost as big as a wagon axle. A piece of something she was certain was the leg bone of some unfortunate human came loose, only to be popped back into his mouth a moment later.
“Eww,” she said, looking up at the hulking form. “Remember your manners, Old Man!”
He simply made a noise she thought was a burp and continued chewing. She could faintly hear Terisa talking to Althenea, although the barrier let no sound return from the spirit.
“The choice is yours. Just like the first time when the Oracle helped us, you can go, or you can stay.”
Althenea seemed to have already made up her mind, though, pressing her hand against the barrier and smiling at her sister. Then, she turned towards the circle that held the Colt, approaching it warily. The appearance of the item seemed to confuse her at first, and she paused halfway across the circle, but the unmistakable aura of death surrounding it clearly identified its purpose: it couldn’t be anything but a weapon, and the spirit, recognizing that, confidently stepped forward.
“Oh,” said Morgan, hurrying to link the circles together. The spirit shivered as the aura of death intensified, only sparing a dismissive gesture towards the portal as she drew closer.
“Choice made. Fighter spirit!”
“Yes,” said Terisa with a faint smile. “She was always fierce. Is fierce.”
Whatever Morgan thought she expected, she didn’t expect Althenea to dissolve into mist and flow towards the Colt. She certainly didn’t expect the Colt to reject her, the woman’s spirit falling to the ground in the middle of the circle and looking mightily confused. Biggles, Terisa, and Dana all spoke up at once.
“What?” “Wha--” “How odd.”
Althenea just looked confused, dispersing into mist once again and making another attempt. This time, the weapon glowed a deep, angry red, cracks spreading along the surface before the spirit was once again returned to the central circle. Confusion gave way to irritation, and she cast a look at those assembled.
“Biggles, what’s happening here?” Morgan asked.
“I’m…actually not sure,” he replied with a note of curiosity, stepping forward to inspect the Colt. “The weapon is steeped in so much death, so much history and killing intent. There’s not enough there, I think, to contain all of that as well as her soul.”
“Well, how do we fix that?” Terisa asked, frowning. Althenea tried again to enter the Colt, and was again rejected. As she was returned to the center of the circle, part of her mist floated away, towards the opposite side -- where the Veil sat, maw open, ready to devour her. The spirit struggled, and eventually reformed, her expression panic-stricken. “How do we fix that quickly?!” she amended.
“By adding more mass to the array!” he replied, fumbling in his pockets. “A-A wand, a sword, something!” In the circle, Althenea had turned to face the Veil and was pressing herself against the barrier, staring with naked fear.
“Anything?” Dana interjected, staring intently at Biggles. Morgan turned to face her.
He turned to look at the engineer. “I mean, a bow or crossbow would be ideal, but, yes, any sort of weapon will do, if Morgan can help put it across the barrier.”
Dana immediately turned and started away from the circle. “Kojeg!” she shouted, quickly abandoning bipedal locomotion in favor of a two-wheeled approach. Terisa shouted something from behind, something incomprehensible. “We need to amend my agreement with the Thuns!” She raced up to her workshop, which obligingly opened at her approach.
“Oh, I dinnae like the sound of that,” the dwarf grumbled. “Old Kadrass will flay me alive as quick as he will you, lass!”
Something inside the workshop thumped and clanged, as if Dana were throwing things around. She backed out the door, grunting and heaving what looked like a suitcase, if a suitcase were the length of a man.
“Ye knew the bargain,” he admonished. “Unless ye give the Thanes summat of value, ye can no give weapons to anyone! Weren’t nae exception for--”
Dana heaved, hauling the case upright and leaning it against her shoulder. “Oh, stuff your exceptions!” she yelled back. “I’ll build the dwarves a goddamn flying ship!” She started walking the case back towards the circle.
“You what?!” Morgan demanded. “I just chewed you out over a nuke!”
Kojeg simply stared, unable to respond, as the Titan laughed.
“Good. Trade. Soldier.”
“Glad you approve, Devil Dog, but we need to hurry,” Dana replied. Terisa shouted again; looking back, Morgan saw Althenea begin to lose ground, struggling to push herself away from the Veil, which seemed to have grown darker and hungrier. Dana dragged the box back to where the pistol hung, then let it thump to the earth. She knelt down, popping several clasps down the length of the case, then stood and flung the lid back.
Morgan whistled. “Is that a--”
“Based it off the Barrett M95, yeah,” Dana replied. “Details later; can you help me get this in the circle?”
“...” Morgan stood dumbfounded for a moment. Seeing her father’s Colt had been enough of a culture shock; seeing this even more modern weapon was something else entirely. “Uh, yeah, just, uh...Huh. Yeah, I can open the circle and hold it together, but...there may be complications if she’s stuck between the weapons.”
“If she still chooses it, we can fix it once she’s safe, can’t we?” asked Terisa.
“Should be able to,” replied Morgan; Biggles nodded in agreement. She reached out to the circle with her magic once again, and this time she could feel the pull from the circle connected to the veil. She could only barely feel it herself, but its effect was clearly more intensely felt by the soul within. “Okay,” she told Dana. “Put it in the circle, while I keep the barrier from breaking apart.”
The engineer lifted the rifle out of the case, then turned and carried it towards the circle. As Dana pushed the weapon through the barrier, her hands were briefly wreathed in the sorceress’ glowing purple energy. “That stings,” she complained, shaking her hands. “Like my hands were asleep.”
“Sorry about that. Almost everything I do gets a touch of lightning with the Mana.” Morgan restored the seal holding the circle, and everyone stepped back.
This time when the spirit crossed into the circle with the weapons, nothing went wrong. I think it’s working, at least, thought Morgan. Althenea, once again in her mist form, seemed to sink into the metal of both weapons. She could feel the woman’s soul, and the magic it contained, inscribing tiny runes across the grips and the barrels of both guns. The process happened so rapidly that even with [Mana Sight], Morgan could barely tell anything more than that the spirit seemed to be doing something to the weapons, but what that something was lay beyond her understanding.
Almost as quickly as it began, it was done. Once the mist-form of Althenea had disappeared entirely into the metal, both the Colt and the Barrett glowed briefly, lit from within by a silvery light. Then, between one heartbeat and the next, all three circles winked out, and both weapons fell to the ground.
“So…” Dana’s voice trailed off as everyone stood staring. “Did it work?”
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 37: Reunions",
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|
Lulu the valiant scrubby shuffled back and forth, doing its best to ignore the things nearby that seemed to call out to be cleaned. Cleaning was admittedly one of the greater parts of Lulu’s existence, and was something of a joy to accomplish, but right now even the act of cleaning was downranked to secondary importance, if not something even lower.
As a slime variant, Lulu had no eyes, but somehow it was still able to perceive the world around it. A clever observer might even be able to tell by its shifting, boneless posture the direction that held Lulu’s current item of interest. Right now, Morgan’s little friend was shifting about at a rapid rate, attention darting this way and that in search of dangers.
Morgan herself was present, in a way. The flickering purple arcs of Mana dancing across its Mistress’s naked body were a strange indication of life, but one that was stronger than the faint but just detectable heartbeat. Lulu gurgled as noisily as it dared, puffling up against a bare ankle, and upon receiving no response yet again the cleansing scrubby seemed to deflate slightly in sadness.
Something scuttled in the depths of nearby plants, and the purple scrubby gave a tiny nervous purble. It had never before had to act on its own. True, it had recently made the valiant leap into the gaping maw of the [Wildlands Shadowlynx], but Morgan had been there to help extricate the scrubby in the confusing aftermath. On the whole, that had been a less than pleasant experience. Stomach acid was frightfully harsh on poor Lulu, and it had mentally filed the whole ordeal away somewhere under the region of learning first hand what it was like to be angrily scrubbed.
Morgan was here, but not here. Lulu was here, in the fullest of senses, and would defend its larger friend to the best of the young scrubby’s capabilities.
From behind Lulu’s current sphere of attention, something else came dashing across the terrain. Something not too large, but moving at frantic speeds. Lulu made an odd movement, less whirling around in alarm as it was a shifting of the body posture, and came face to face with a [Chittering Murdersquirrel].
It would have been waist high to its standing Mistress, and though it was smaller than Morgan, it was decidedly larger than poor little Lulu. Its poofled brown and grey striped tail was as large as the rest of its body, and whipped back and forth in rapid curls of anticipation. If slimes, and their variants, had teeth? Lulu’s would be gritting. If they had shoulders, its would be set back in order to present a stronger posture. If they had legs, Lulu would be poised at the ready, able to dart in any direction that proved necessary.
The little purple puffball had none of these things. It merely watched, and waited, and tried to set aside its fears.
The [Chittering Murdersquirrel] continued to close in with sure and steady steps, and seemed likely to be undeterred by anything. With a quick glance to Morgan to confirm that it was do or die time, Lulu gave a ululating warble and launched itself off from the ground in the strongest, fastest leap it could muster.
Instinctively, it had aimed for the shoulder. Morgan’s shoulder was a warm place, and a comfortable seat during travel at regular speeds. It was also a relatively flat surface to land upon on any given creature that happened to have limbs. Unfortunately, Lulu had not accounted for shoulder spikes hidden in what seemed to be deceptively soft fur.
TORN LACE! PAIN! BAD! The scrubby loofah squirmed slightly in discomfort as it sensed its green good feeling essence - Lulu had no better thoughts to describe it - diminish slightly.
A paw suddenly swept towards the scrubby, ripping the lacy body off of its own fuzzy shoulder. Without so much as a backward glance, the [Chittering Murdersquirrel] flicked its nails and tossed Lulu violently onto the ground, where it landed with a painful splat.
Pulling itself back into its usual round, fluffy stance, and thinking back on the events that had just transpired, an idea sprang to mind. Dashing as fast as it could, Lulu slipped back into the space between [Chittering Murdersquirrel] and Morgan. Then, taking careful aim, the valiant scrubby took another swift leap.
Now, Lulu had no eyes of its own, but through observation of the world it had come across the concept of eyeballs, and more importantly, the importance of said eyeballs. Mentally shifting from exuding its movement-assisting moisturizers to producing the sticky coating for its lace that it used to hold onto Morgan in her more speedy moments, the puffball landed with a resounding thwack onto the [Chittering Murdersquirrel]’s left eye..
With this first step accomplished, Lulu set to work, flattening itself down, around, and into the ocular cavity as much as possible in order to evade another angry swipe from swift, clawed paws. Its strongest skill, by far, was [Exfoliate], and though the scrubby was not in the least expecting the relative fragility of an eye it was delighted to discover that the combination of this skill and this target allowed for swift penetration into the head cavity.
The [Chittering Murdersquirrel] roared in agony and flailed at its own head, but Lulu paid it little mind. There was a certain reluctance for a being to reach inside of its own skull, and the lacey puffball instinctively knew this. The situation was, perhaps, a little unpleasant, but the scrubby had found a way in to potential victory, and for the sake of Morgan’s continued safety it was going to use it.
As a slime variant, Lulu was practically made to be flexible, and as only the core bead in the center of its body was solid and unshiftable it was this core alone that needed to pass through a potential opening. The rest of the scrubby’s body could fold and squish and slide through the space as easily as liquid through a straw. It was a surprisingly simple matter to [Exfoliate] the small gap in the skull through which the ocular nerve passed, enlarging it to allow most of Lulu passage inside the head. The passage inwards was not quite large enough yet to let its solid core through, but the scrubby gave a soft triumphant warble in knowing that it was more than deep enough within.
Eyes were important parts of the body, but brains - the squishy unseen masses that usually lurked within the head - were even more important. Lulu squirmed and writhed and [Exfoliated] everything within reach, eventually managing to slip all the way inside the [Chittering Murdersquirrel]’s skull. There, it spun and jumped and wreaked exfoliating havoc until it felt the world shake with a THUMP. The little scrubby paused for a moment, but when nothing further seemed to be happening it peered out from the empty eye socket.
As Lulu cautiously emerged, observing the world from a position decidedly lower to the ground than before entering the eye, messages it could not read and would not have cared about if it could flashed before its tiny consciousness before fading away. What it did care about was the surge of Mana in its center and the increased size it gained after a short pulse of glowing golden light. It couldn’t help but give a purbling trill of triumph at the simple feeling of becoming more.
With a happy wriggle, the lacy puffball skittered over to Morgan. Lulu’s frills danced in the sunlight as it tried to show off the new, upgraded self. The wriggle turned quickly to sagging as the human had still not budged an inch. The sagging itself shifted to a quiver of fear as Lulu spotted more things, larger still than the [Chittering Murdersquirrel], skulking around nearby.
Lulu pressed itself against Morgan’s ankle again, releasing a quick burst of soothing fragrant suds. Never you fear, Morgan, it seemed to be saying. Lulu is on patrol.
Then, the churple-stained scrubby leaped once more into battle with a purbling warcry.
|
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|
Constable Zizzy stood before yet another crime scene, yet another display of pointless brutality serving no purpose higher than pain and suffering. Echoes of the raw agony suffered here dragged across her nerves like nails across a chalkboard. She found herself constantly surprised by this feeling; ordinarily, the pain and suffering of mankind failed to move her. After all, the Hells she was summoned from -- and by extension, she herself -- existed for the sole purpose of cleansing the sins of the damned by returning to them all the suffering they’d inflicted during their lives.
This scene, though, like all the others, was different; this was no ordinary predator inflicting ordinary suffering on an ordinary victim. Like others of her kind, Zizzy was able to sense the good and evil inherent in the souls of Man, and even through the remnants imprinted on the crime scene, two things stood out to her: the Defiler was evil, and his victims were innocent.
Despite her agitation, Zizzy kept her wings furled and her tail tucked around her waist; she was the picture of calmness as she took in the sight before her. The scene had already been documented, of course; the local township -- called Hat for some reason not even the residents could remember -- had a handful of retired, yet still competent, Wardens who took every pain to record the scene. But Zizzy wasn’t here to observe those details; if she were, she could have reviewed their meticulous report.
The details she sought weren’t sounds, or smells, or sights, and her attempts to explain them to her mortal peers, even those among the Wardens, had all fallen short. It was more like the heat from a fire that warmed the skin, but it came with flavors, and she could feel it through clothing. All living things emanated such energies to varying intensities, and every person’s trace was different. On top of every person’s unique signature came impressions of a person’s emotions and feelings to which her heritage sensitized her. People were constantly giving off these signals, and if they were particularly intense, objects and places around them could echo the signals for some time.
What she could sense did not tell the entire tale by itself, but it added vital context to what she already knew from the Wardens’ report. The crushed chair and the broken table reeked of outrage and surprise, most likely that of the victim, whose body was still cooling in the evening air. The slashed tunic he wore gave off desperation; so too did the shattered plank of wood, one half of which was still in the decedent’s grip. His body, riddled with shattered fragments of his own bone, stank of suffering and malice alike, a pall that hung like a miasma through the entire room.
Again, the Defiler lived up to his title. Nothing in this room was spared the marks of the Defiler’s passing; though Zizzy was used to seeing this level of brutality in connection with ritual sacrifice and the like, there was no evidence of such acts here. There were no ritual circles with lingering traces of Mana, no blood sigils and no patterns denoting any sort of language. At least no language known to Man or Demonkind. She could not completely rule out the possibility of The Defiler using some sort of ritual runes from his own world in the smattering of bloody mess spread amongst the random sprays, but she did not think that was the case. She sensed no Faith or Mana based magics from the scrawling lines.
She knelt down by the man’s body, sniffing the air. The blood, like the corpse, was still warm; she was closing in, gradually whittling away the Defiler’s lead as he killed night after night. A silver pin covered in blood lay on the floor next to the body, marking the young man as an Adept in the Storm Breakers. The outline of the broken stormcloud was just visible under the blood. The young mage had not had it long enough for his feeling of pride and accomplishment to wear off, and his emotive essence made the symbol stand out, shiny and gold to Zizzy’s senses even through the coating of blood.
She heard footsteps approaching the door to the room and stood, turning to greet the other Warden.
“Every head in the village is accounted for, Constable.” The man looked tired even beyond his middling years, certainly never expecting such tragedy to interrupt his comfortable posting. He shook his head with weary sadness. “Tarma hadn’t been stationed at the local array very long; less than a year. But we all liked him. The village midwife, Miss Landi Pael, is the only one not here. She’s up the valley at Middle Gates deliverin’, but I’ve questioned everyone else.”
“And not a soul saw or heard anything in the early morning, just like the others,” Zizzy replied.
“Not a thing.” The man sighed in resignation. “I never thought I’d have to send a letter like this back to the mainland. I think his family is in Meadowspire, but the Breakers will know for sure.”
“The failure is mine, Senior Warden. Have his personal effects delivered to my office at Stormbreak and I’ll see to notifying the family.” She stepped out of the room, letting her wings finally spread out and relax while her tail whipped in nervous agitation. “I have to get ahead of him, Warden. The road splits just north of Hat; where do the forks lead?”
“Well, the coastal road keeps on following the shoreline for sixty or so miles to Twelve Oaks and their array. It’s bigger than the standard ones, and the next upstream link for our lesser array here at Hat.”
“And the eastern fork?”
“That cuts over Bald Rock Road, through a bunch of gullies and switchback canyons heading to the interior of the island. Can’t take a cart over it but it can get you to Ridgewater in a day’s travel on foot.”
Zizzy stood still for a moment, deep in thought. “Ridgewater doesn’t have an array...but it sits on the road to Southpeak. They’ve drafted older students through the old treaties so they can fire the entire array, and they’ll be travelling under guard.”
“Twelve Oaks has a chapter-house retreat for [Paladins] on pilgrimage to get their Blessing from Asima, Constable,” the Warden informed her. His expression gained a rather grim and eager light. “If he heads there, his story will end.”
“We can hope,” she muttered. After a moment’s thought, she nodded. “I’m going to Ridgewater to try to get ahead of him,” she said with a stretch of her wings. “If he goes to Twelve Oaks I'd just get in the way. And if I catch the wrong end of a thrown Holy Judgement, well…” She shuddered at the thought of being anywhere near a Holy Warrior throwing down Divine enhanced abilities. “He doesn’t leave traces when he travels, so tracking him directly is right out. But a bunch of students fresh from the academy, travelling scared? That’s a tempting target.”
“How do you know he won’t simply go around, Constable?”
“I don’t. But he’s taken over thirty victims so far since Purple Night. He has to be close to a Class Specialization into something even nastier, if not already past one. I have to get to him before he gets too strong for me to take him.”
She snapped her wings and leapt into the sky, barely hearing the man calling out to wish her good luck and good hunting. Winds from the approaching storm buffeted the succubus as she climbed over the township, but her magical nature permitted her to cut through them with ease. By the time she reached a thousand feet over the village, she could see past the ridgeline to the western sea. Though the worldstorm was still hundreds of leagues away, she found herself staggered by its size and ferocity. The wall of inky clouds whipped the ocean into a roiling froth, and smaller storms spun off to wreak their own devastation. Flashes of wild Mana arced through the steely thunderheads, illuminating the distant darkness with impressions of eldritch shadows moving within the storm. It was a stark reminder of what was at stake: by threatening the Storm Breakers, the Defiler threatened the entire continent.
As she winged her way north and west to head inland, Zizzy activated one of the enchantments she had had placed on her uniform. She felt the magic settle against her body, and knew she had just become transparent; nearly invisible to mundane sight. A static light-bending camouflage enchantment was simple enough for even student [Mages] to make; however, hers was of a caliber that allowed her to move while maintaining the effect. Gliding in near-silence, she rode the winds from the approaching storm, climbing above the rocky craigs after less than an hour of travel.
As she crested the ridge, she could make out a town to the northeast, sprawling at the intersection of one broad roadway paved with time-worn stone cobbles that bisected a sprawling community of thatched-roof buildings. The avenue ended in a wide circular lot with smaller roads heading southwards in half a dozen directions. Several stone bridges crossed the rushing water below the ridge that gave the town its name, and to the north she could see a large caravan slowly making its way towards the town. Evening approached, and the lengthening shadows lent the entire scene an eerie ambiance from her lofty vantage point.
For a few minutes, as she flew, Zizzy contemplated informing the Wardens guarding the convoy of her plan. But every person that knows could betray my plan, and I have no idea what this monster looks like, who he could be…
No, she decided as she settled onto a rooftop next to the north gates of the city, still shrouded in the effects of the magical cloaking enchantment. Better to surprise everyone, and not just him.
With inhuman patience, she waited until the convoy of guarded wagons passed through the stone entrance. Tired young men and women in various colors of robes denoting their academic affiliations sat in the open wagons or took turns walking beside them. Dipping further into her demonic abilities, it was a trivial thing to slip into the group. A quick drop to an alley before they passed, a quiet furling of her wings back inside her tunic. Her golden braids darkened to a milk-chocolate brown then flowed down into tousled locks, and her skin likewise went from pale cream to an islander’s tan. As if sculpting herself, the succubus ran her hands down her bust to enlarge her chest while a wriggle of her hips rounded out her posterior, her tail vanishing through through the slot in her trousers. The enchanted attire proved its worth, responding to her intent while her badge and signature hat slipped into an enchanted storage pouch on her belt. The colors of her uniform faded from a formal grey to a more well-worn brown befitting a dusty and road-weary student of magic, pants tightening around her curves while the buttons of her tunic strained at holding her bosom, seemingly ready to fail at any moment. A cloak from her utility pouch completed the disguise as she shed inches from her height.
A short and mousey brunette with wide, innocent eyes and a figure that would cause any mother to hide her sons casually flounced out of the alleyway to join the passing pack of students. A wizened but burly Master with a golden emblem of a broken storm clasping his cloak at one shoulder looked across his group of charges. His gaze lingered a moment on Zizzy, and he reached for one of the many flasks on his belt before recognition dawned on his face. He remained silent, and she nodded respectfully. One did not reach the rank of Master in the Breakers without a hefty amount of Intellect.
“Groups of three at a minimum,” he growled as the students began to disperse towards the inn, its windows casting a warm and inviting light into the chill evening air. “Don’t wander off, not even to use the facilities, just like last night.”
Zizzy paid no attention to the murmuring gossip and whispers of the students, but she did listen to the general tone. Older students feigned bravery and boldness, as much to impress the younger as to mask their own feelings of fear and nervousness. A less experienced succubus -- a less experienced demon -- would have found the aura given off by the anxious younglings to be a nectar too sweet to resist, and she was counting on the Defiler feeling the same way. She slipped into a chair next to two timid girls, quietly pretending to eat from the tray of meats and cheese offered to the mages. They offered no conversation, and Zizzy was silently grateful that she wouldn’t have to play a role. While playing to the fantasies of others was instinctual to any succubus, she had spent decades growing into her own maturity of personality. Even without the geas from her unknown master, she would have preferred older, more deserving prey.
The meal passed without consequence, quiet and hushed conversations carrying on between different groups of students. Armored and well-armed [Fighter]- and [Brawler]-type guards surrounded the building, with experienced [Scout] and [Ranger] lookouts watching the perimeter. All should have been well. But Zizzy’s instincts -- naturally honed far past any mortal ability, and further refined by decades of experience tracking nefarious criminals through myriad situations -- were screaming inside her head.
As the Master instructed, the students traveled in threes when they had to go anywhere -- including the facilities. The girls she had attached themselves to, after doing the same, slowly made their way back to the room selected for them. The need for security drew out the process of getting the students settled in, and it was well past midnight before her pair settled on their shared bunk, tossing and turning as sleep slowly took them.
Sisters, I’m sure, she thought to herself. And far too young for this.
Hours passed in what was, for Zizzy, a mixture of nervous waiting and the calm anticipation of the predator waiting for its prey. Her keen senses brought to her the snoring and other nocturnal sounds typical of a large group of travellers, especially the romantic couples that normally would have definitely piqued her unique interests. The building grew even more quiet as the hours drew on; as the eastern horizon slowly began to brighten, she could hear the kitchen staff rummaging through cupboards and beginning preparations for the morning meal. Her innocent charges had finally succumbed to sleep, entwined on their bed and exhausted from the pallor of fear that had likely followed the group all the way from Stormbreak.
While her demonic nature let her go longer than most without certain physical requirements, she still had to tend to the needs of her own body eventually. Silently, she made her way out of the room to the facilities at the end of the hall, partly in hopes that a solitary student would appear more inviting to The Defiler. Nothing projected an air of vulnerability better than actual vulnerability, so her trip to tend to her needs was not faked. She lingered in the washroom for a few extra heartbeats, but nothing changed in the building to her senses.
She exited the restroom and spied the Master, who stood watching the hallway. As she passed, he placed his hand on her shoulder to stop her.
“Nearly didn’t recognize you, Constable,” he rumbled, taking pains to keep his voice low so as not to prematurely wake his charges. “Makes me more comfortable knowing you’re here. And your partner, too; suppose Stormbreak saw the risk and sent you with backup.”
Zizzy shook her head in automatic negation. “I work alone. None are my equal.” A moment passed before horror slowly stole over her expression.
The Master, seeing her paling face, grew tense. “There were two extra students when we passed into Ridgewater. If the other wasn’t your partner, then--”As Zizzy’s eyes widened, twin bolts of agony and suffering broke over her senses, sending her staggering into the wall. “M-Master Breaker--!”
The Breaker reacted, drawing a clear crystal the size of his thumb from a pocket in his cloak, hurling it to the ground. As it broke, a sound like a massive gong echoed throughout the building and beyond, shouts and cries going up immediately afterward.
The succubus let her disguise fade, body flowing smoothly back into its natural shape as she pelted towards the source of the feelings – the room she had just left.
I can’t sense him! she realized, a flash of insight dashing her like a cold bucket of water. And he can’t sense me! We are both hunters, drawn to our prey and not each other! What she could sense in horrifyingly exquisite detail, however, was the reverberating waves of horror, pain, trauma, and weak outrage emanating ahead.
Drawing on the power afforded her by the hellfire coursing through her veins, she smashed through the wall into the room beyond, wood crumbling into splinters before her implacable might. The sound was somehow muted, even standing as she was in its midst. He has a muffling Skill! That’s why--
She took in the scene without slowing down as she burst into the room. Before her stood a tableau so wretched it might have been born from a nightmare, from the hell that gave birth to Zizzy herself: one girl lay curled on her side, clutching at her throat while blood-tinged froth bubbled at her lips and painted a crimson hook on the floor ahead of her. She hacked and coughed, trying to draw breath through her own viscera while she looked helplessly at her sister.
The other screamed, raw and animalistic even in the soundless space, at a writhing, shadowy form that sat both atop her and in the air above her. It resolved into the twisted form of what had once been a man, but was no longer, feral and lengthened in a wholly unnatural way.
Zizzy leapt forward, raising her hands, the air ahead of them wavering before her heated aura. The Defiler’s free hand rose as well, catching the onrushing succubus by the face, ignoring both her snarls and the way she wrenched at his forearm.
As he resolved further, his other arm tensed and jerked back, parting the girl’s belly with a sick, wet sound and splitting her from sternum to crotch, a fresh wave of agony rolling out from the girl as she screamed anew, audible now as he laid aside whatever Skill he had been using.
His bloody arm reached under the ragged garment he still wore, crushing something over the girl’s horrific wound as Zizzy drew her legs up to kick him in the side, tearing herself from his grip. Whatever he crushed over the girl had immediate and terrifying effect, forcing the misaligned, tattered flesh and bone to heal in place, further intensifying the girl’s agony. The sheer power of the pain nearly broke Zizzy’s composure as she was exposed to its full extent.
“I chose them because you did,” the beast who was once a man growled, his voice guttural and sharp. He disappeared into the room’s shadow only to emerge to her left, this time assuming the guise of a male student she had sat beside mere hours before. “You smell...different,” he continued, voice now cooler and smooth, almost curious. “Not afraid. Your magic, too. It hisses and burns.”
He’s managed a Class Evolution or gained a shifting skill already! The thought trickled through her being like ice water down her back. To face a [Mage-Eater] was dangerous in its own right, but ultimately simple enough once you mitigated their ability. This particular [Mage-Eater], however, had obviously unlocked a more sinister specialization for whatever his particular Class was, amplifying him into an even more formidable opponent. Dread filled the Constable, but she could not back down.
“I’ve got more for you,” she replied, voice low and dangerous. Her tail flickered out, looping around his ankle. Her hands grew longer, palms and fingers elongating as her nails slid into claws, burning with a sulfurous light that was mirrored in her wings. She leapt forward as her tail yanked the man’s leg out from under him, raising her claws to strike.
He fell and rolled with inhuman agility, dropping his glamour once again to rise as the feral beast, wreathed in shadow. So fast! she thought in shock. He’s even faster than me! As he rose, he yanked on her tail, spinning her around and drawing a bark of pain from her throat to add to the distressed wailing of the crippled girls.
He got both hands on her tail, strengthening his grip, and Zizzy barely had time to realize what he was doing before he tore at her spine, flooding her with agony as she collapsed against the wall. Stronger than I thought, she whimpered to herself as all feeling abandoned her legs, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down.
She felt the man shift as one booted foot planted itself firmly between her shoulder blades, aborting her attempt to push herself away. He leaned in and took hold of her wing, and a long tearing sound and fresh waves of pain preceded one burning wing settling to the ground. Never before had she had to square off against someone with such physical strength, always relying on speed or surprise or emotional manipulation to level the playing field. Panic began to rise like bile in her throat as the weight of her mistake crashed down around her.
As a demon, death didn’t mean the same thing for her as it did for mortals; instead of cessation, she would ‘merely’ face banishment to the Hells for a time, a fate which she had hitherto avoided for a half-century. She was saved from that ordeal – as a succubus, she knew there were fates worse than death (a notion the two girls on the floor might object to, if they could) – by a sudden ring of steel and throaty shouts as someone else burst into the room, drawing the Defiler’s attention.
Thankful for the brief reprieve, Zizzy slid down the wall and rolled towards the center of the room, her healing abilities already working to repair her spine and patch over the stump of her wing, a process which sent bolts of lightning up her spine from her hips to her back. The severed wing had disappeared into motes of hellfire, already fading, and Zizzy knew it would be days before she could take wing again.
She saw the Master standing beside someone she didn’t recognize, facing down the Defiler. The newcomer brandished a mace, bringing it down it in a savage arc and activating a Skill which made it glow briefly with an inner light. The Defiler brought his arm up to block the strike, but his limb crumpled before the heavy blow with a sickening crunch. He snarled, turning to merge with the shadows, but the Master whipped a vial from his cloak. It broke against his body before he could disappear, evoking a sizzling sound as his shadow-wreathed flesh began to melt. He howled, a savage, bestial sound as he turned and burst through the window and out into the pre-dawn twilight.
Nobody bothered giving chase; the moment he left, he was gone, the trail cold before it began. Her failure burned in her mind, almost as hot as her own wounds and the slowly-fading – too slowly – agony of the girls before her.
The girl who could still move did so, weakly coughing as she dragged a cloak over her sister’s ruined form, attempting to give her some measure of dignity in their remaining moments.
Though Zizzy wasn’t a mage herself, she could feel the ragged edges of their magical essences as they shriveled and faded away. It was a sad truth that the life-force of those who use magic – anyone alive – was inextricably linked to that core. To remove it is to promise death, with the cold inexorability of the tides. She could feel the girls’ life slowly fade, bleeding drop by drop, into that abyss.
She dragged herself with agonizing slowness towards the girls, gathering them in her arms, whispering meaningless platitudes, promises she couldn’t fulfill. Her skills, though geared towards the taking of life, did permit some flow in the other direction. She husbanded her stamina and poured it into the girls, and she could feel their weak gratitude, even though her efforts delayed the inevitable by only a few, fleeting moments. Bereft of the ability to hold mana, her gift trickled through the cracks, fading into the nothingness that reached out. The girls’ desperate stares burned into Zizzy’s face with a hopeless intensity, their pleading expressions nearly breaking her heart as oblivion smoothed them, stealing the breath from their lungs, the light from their eyes, and finally, the last, lingering spark of their lives. So clutching was oblivion’s grasp that, before it retreated, it nearly took Zizzy as well.
She sat there, breath frozen in her chest as she looked down at the two slowly-cooling bodies – silent rebukes, silent testaments to her failure – and wept like a broken-hearted child.
A world away, a dungeon burned.
A world away, a titan woke.
And in the here and now, on the back of a Constable’s hand, a [Seal of the Oracle] flared into brilliant light.
|
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Terisa Aras stood on the observation deck of the northeast tower of Fort Expedition, sipping a steaming cup of kaffen and ignoring the murmurs of the small gathering behind her. Calling it a fort was truly an exercise in masterful understatement. It was either an epic wonder of fortified construction, or a mad engineer’s worst nightmare, depending on who you asked. Stone walls over a hundred feet tall formed a curved barricade stretching almost eight leagues to seal off the foothills of Expedition Pass, atop which stood hulking machines and works of arcana spread evenly along its length. Massive ballistae, their limbs relaxed, stood beside trebuchets and catapults. Dwarven cannons and dizzying spell arrays lined the wall’s outer surface. Those who would be manning them milled to and fro, throwing dice and playing cards amongst their fellows, casting the occasional wary eye out over the lowlands or up towards the tower.
Far below, within the walls, the sounds of construction and the shouts of foremen and workers alike drifted up to her. Expedition was always in flux, and it seemed one couldn’t take five steps without tripping over some form of work being done. There was no central authority directing the projects, and nothing keeping them from dragging on and on; those who were here were united only by virtue of their purpose: safeguarding Expedition Pass against the fell creatures of the Wildlands.
The tower upon which she stood was the tallest, and dozens more spread out to either side into the distance. She ignored the chill wind that blew down from the sloped valley above, letting the hot kaffen warm her while it cleared the morning’s cobwebs from her mind. What she did not ignore was the young Worldwalker approaching her.
“Impressive defenses, even by the standards of most nations back home,” said The Broken as she stepped up to the stone battlement.
The gentle whirring of the armor that allowed her to walk was the only sound that gave away the mechanical nature of its workings. Though she would never admit it, Terisa was quite impressed with the woman’s workmanship and skill. The suit was entirely unlike the heavy and over-engineered practicality of most things of Dwarven make, and without all the useless frills and gizmos a Gnomish designer would have included. Instead, everything fit together to give the Worldwalker a rather striking feminine figure, the armor plates shifting with an organic smoothness.. The armor encased the woman up past her chest and over her shoulders, leaving her arms and head bare. Having seen a demonstration when they first met only days prior, Terisa knew it would reconfigure to cover its passenger completely in less than an instant if necessary.
“They aren’t needed as often as they once were,” she told the inquisitive Worldwalker, “but long ago, these walls were all that stood against rampaging beasts coming down the pass.”
Terisa sipped her warm drink and kept her eyes on the slowly brightening sky above the distant peaks. “Tell me,” she began, “How did you convince the dwarves of Thun’Kadrass to take you along on this year’s expedition into the wildlands?”
The golemist arched a single eyebrow before responding. “Can’t talk about it. Terms of the contract we worked out. You’ll have to ask them.”
Terisa chuckled. “So it’s to do with their cannon, then.”
“I really, really can’t say; I’m sorry,” she replied apologetically.
“That wasn’t a question, girl. The Thuns don’t agree on much except keeping their explosive powder a secret, and it’s the only thing they’d have bound you to be silent on.”
The otherworlder looked quite uncomfortable for several moments, shifting and grinding noises coming from her armor as it cycled through several internal configurations before returning to its dormant state. “If you know that much, you know the penalties for breaking their contracts, lady. We ain’t talkin’ fines here.”
“Relax,” Terisa said soothingly. “I’ve had enough dealings with them to have learned more than a few things. They know I keep my mouth shut. I just need to know how well you can fend for yourself on the other side of the pass.”
Dana rolled her eyes, huffing. “Is that why a dozen idiots have challenged me in the past three days?”
“Only a dozen?” laughed Terisa. “This is Expedition, hon. Everyone challenges everyone here; it’s sorta what they do in between trips to the Wildlands. If you’d whip a few instead of turning them all down, they’d leave you alone… except for the occasional idiot looking to test themselves,” she amended.
“I didn’t exactly build non-lethal weapons into my gear,” Dana replied peevishly, putting her fists on her hips. “Everyone I talked to claims these Wildlands are super dangerous. I can’t fist-fight worth a damn and I’m not getting my golems thrashed over and over again; repairs are expensive.”
“Then, why are you here?”
“To get the higher-tier mana crystals. They’re too expensive for me to just buy them by the crate-load, and I need more than a few.”
This time Terisa was the one to raise an eyebrow. “Most Wildlands crystals get auctioned off to the various guilds or bartered to the Kingdoms for royal favors, if Stormbreak doesn’t buy them outright in order to power their array. The only golems I know that require those kinds of crystals are the Obsidian Guard at Stormbreak Prison. Are you saying you can build golems even the Wardens can’t reproduce? ”
“Not my golems,” Dana replied, shaking her head. “It’s not so much the power as it is structural stability under load and lowering the resonance coefficient within the crystal, so I can squeeze more power out of a given size.” She shrugged. “Golems, I can use just about any crystal for.” Dana tapped at her armored hip, where a recessed panel slid back to reveal three flawless crystals the size of Terisa’s thumbnail. “Crystals with higher resonance coefficients tend to fall out of sync with each other if you start demanding more energy. Bad enough using just one, but multiple?” She shakes her head. “They start interfering with each other, and you get oscillations in the output, and then you start having real problems.” The panel slid back into place. “These three cost me a small fortune. If I can get higher-quality ones from the Wildlands, I can boost my suit’s efficiency by at least three times. If I can get some for my golems, too, so much the better.”
Terisa’s expression became thoughtful for several long moments before she replied. “That all sounds well and good, but nothing about it tells me you can hold your own out there. The Wildlands is most definitely not Thun’Kadrass, or any other place on Anfealt.”
“Ye should listen to her, lassie,” said a barrel-chested Dwarf who had approached from the growing crowd on the tower’s rooftop. He turned from the Worldwalker to give a respectful nod. “Lady Terisa. Been a year or three since my last trip, but ye don’ look a day older!”
“Kojeg!” she exclaimed with sudden delight. She set her cup on the stone battlement and stepped forward, drawing the old Dwarf into a familiar embrace. “And it’s been closer to ten years,” she added critically.
“It has?” He grunted. “Harder to tell from within the Thun. How be that grumpy husband o’ yours? Althenea still hate him?” He stepped back to regard Dana once more. “Terisa leads the Expedition. Nary a soul knows the Wildlands like the [Wild-Heart Huntress], and once we’re over the pass, her word be as law.”
“Foz isn’t grumpy, he’s just misunderstood! And my sister sees everyone and everything as targets to hit, you know that. Now, I expect this year to be worse than usual, given the Purple Night and, just three months past, the Burning Noon. Convince me this young woman can take care of herself in the Wildlands.” Terisa shook her head vehemently. “You know we lose one or two in ten every year. I’ll not have ‘Got a Worldwalker Killed’ added as a line in my story, Koj. I have enough mistakes in it already.”
“I figured ye’d take some convincin’,” said Kojeg, stroking his beard braids with a smug expression on his face. “Pick a target, let the lass change yer mind her own self!”
An older woman in simple grey and blue robes chose that moment to make her appearance, shuffling her way up the stone steps to join the murmuring throng. She leaned on a staff gleaming with dark varnish and with faint runes carved along its length. “I thought I heard a familiar voice up here! What dragged you out of retirement, Kojeg? And what in the [Oracle]’s name is that thing your brethren brought with you through the Sunless Road? It’s the largest carriage contraption I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been to Sprocket!”
“Nessara, ye old witch! I thought ye retired to Stormbreak and whelped a pack of runts!” bellowed the Dwarf.
“That was almost twenty years ago, and my oldest just joined the Wardens, to judge from the last message she sent. I’m here because I got bored, and the Academy wanted someone to look for signs of the Burning Woman on this trip. All the ‘Walkers are accounted for except for her and The Dreamer.” She gave a polite nod to Dana. “No disrespect intended, girl, but when people from other worlds drop in, only idiots wouldn’t want to track them down to get a feel for their intentions.”
“None taken,” replied Dana. “Something like this happening on my own world would have been--” She shivered. “Well, depending on where they ended up, it could be just a little bit bad, or a whole lot of really really bad.”
“There are no hints in the legends of any Worldwalker ever going back to wherever they came from,” said Terisa with a bit of sympathy. “So whatever effect brings them here must be a one-way trip. Then again, you don’t seem too keen on trying to go home from what I can tell. Now, about that demonstration…”
“I don’t have my full loadout right now; I left most of my gear in the mobile workshop, what Miss Nessara here called a thing a minute ago. I only have a few secondary weapons with my armor in stand-by mode like this.” The Worldwalker seemed to shrug slightly as plates shifted and split, rearranging themselves to cover her arms all the way down to her fingertips. “I can reconfigure for a couple of long range shots, but aren’t we waiting for dawn so you can survey the pass anyway?”
“We have another few minutes,” said the huntress. “I’d like to at least get a feel for your baseline ability, and my word will calm the other delegations joining us for this trip. The beastkin tribal groups won’t respect power they don’t witness first hand; same for the groups from human nations. The Dwarves seem impressed enough by you already, but the Gnomes will ignore you until things start exploding. And don’t look so smug, Kojeg, seeing is believing and I don’t put stock in rumors.”
“Aye, seeing is believing, and what I’ve seen the lassie build would make ye grow a beard, and then curl it, too.” He turned towards Dana with a grin. “Show her.”
Dana blushed slightly, and turned back to Terisa. “Okay, but it’s not really up to par with what I originally designed. I haven’t quite figured out how this world’s magical effects interact with baseline physics and ballistics. What do you want me to hit?”
The huntress turned to look over the lowlands, before pointing off in the distance. “Do you see the massive skeleton sticking out of the earth on the northern slope of the pass to the left of the road? About half a league up from the gates below us.”
Dana leaned forward, planting her hands on the parapet. “The thing that looks like a cross between a stegosaur and a shark or fish? With three eye sockets in the skull?”
“I don’t know what a stegosaur is, but yes, the rockmaw skeleton. They have three eyes, grow bigger than a house.”
“Yeah, I see it. Are you sure you want me to shoot it?” she asked dubiously. “It’s barely a klick out from here.”
“The bones of a rockmaw are tougher than steel and resistant to magic. If you can hit it, I won’t complain about taking you into the Wildlands. If you can shatter it, I might even be impressed.” The gaze she levelled at the Worldwalker was flat and expressionless. “Might.”
“Heh,” grunted Kojeg, before leaning towards Dana and whispering something just faintly enough that Terisa couldn’t make out the words.
Grinning, the Dwarf stepped back as Dana’s armor split down both legs, segments shifting as her height dropped and the armor thickened around her torso. A helmet seemed to snap into place with several muted clicks. Her voice sounded from within the helmet, the tones tinny and metallic from whatever mechanism allowed her to talk through the suit.
“Stabilizers engaging, crawler mode activated. Anchoring emplacement.”
The legs, now almost a foot shorter, shifted once more. Each leg split into three individual segments. Two legs jammed into the masonry behind the armored form hard enough to drive their points into the stone. Two more legs similarly shot to her sides, and the remaining two arched up to anchor themselves over the outer lip of the stone barrier that bracketed the platform. The watching crowd fell completely silent, eager to witness an unexpected demonstration from the Worldwalker.
“Configuring kinetic driver.”
The woman reached out with her right hand towards the distant skull, and a straight section of metal nearly two feet long hissed its way upwards out of the thicker section of armor on her back. It pivoted down and snapped into place along the upper side of the outstretched arm, more brackets and pieces Terisa could not quite understand sliding into place and closing around it to secure its alignment. Kojeg stepped back, covering his ears and a manic grin never leaving his face.
“Mana Field Propulsors charged. SLAM round armed. Firing.”
The heavy thump broke the night with a thunderous roar and flash of light as the armored figure was pushed back and down from the recoil. The six legs did their job, though, and she was back in firing position less than a heartbeat later. Terisa shook her head to clear the ringing from her ears just in time to hear the tell-tale crackle-crunch of shattering bone fragments, reaching back to the tower just as the echoes of the shot began to fade. The next sound was the whirring rumble of Dana’s armor returning her to a standing and upright state, followed by the helmet receding and the girl speaking up.
“That’s not really a challenging range, though. I’m sighted in with this thing out to three thousand meters, and I think I can double that with better materials, or if I can get the enchantments right to keep the round from disintegrating from atmospheric friction.”
Terisa was speechless, as was the rest of the crowd, save for one laughing, boisterous Dwarf. Then chuckles and grumbles as coin changed hands from various wagers placed over the woman’s performance.
“I can’t say I’ve never seen that kind of destruction at range, Miss Dana,” said the huntress. “But you’re only, what? Level thirteen? Fourteen at most?”
She nodded back at Terisa. “Fourteen, yes. But I spent my entire adult life on Earth on active duty in my home nation’s military until I lost my legs in combat. Destruction I can do. Destruction I can definitely do.”
“It certainly seems to be the case,” she told the Worldwalker as the rising sun began to illuminate the still-settling rubble around the crater where the monster’s skull once rested. “That would have been a lethal hit on a live Rockmaw, so you’ll hear no more complaints from me.”
Terisa turned her gaze to the far heights of the pass as the rising sun illuminated the ancient roadway, cut through a gap in the snowy peaks by some civilization long forgotten to any but the [Oracle]. “It’s time,” she said, as the sunlight glinted off the polished stone arches in the distance. The late-spring warmth had finally caused the snows to recede from the passageway, and with her improved [Eagle Eye] skill she could see the road laid bare. “Give me some room, people.”
“Back up, lass,” said Kojeg, taking Dana by the arm. “If the pass is clear, she’ll signal the city, and we’ll be in the Wildlands before nightfall. This is what everyone’s been waiting for.”
The Worldwalker stepped back, an inquisitive look on her face. “How’s she going to signal the city? Does she have some sort of skill for an area-wide announcement?”
Nessara guffawed and leaned on her staff, an amused smirk playing across her face. “HAH! Something like that! You haven’t ever seen someone of a truly high level at work, have you?”
“Just Kojeg and the other smiths at the Great Forge in the Thun.”
“I’m only level fifty-two. There hasn’t been a smith over sixty working the Great Forge in a human lifetime at least, lass,” Kojeg said wistfully, with a mournful shake of his head.
“The thing is, otherworlder,” started Nessara with a lecturing tone as Terisa unslung her bow, “most people slow down and almost stop levelling in the mid to late thirties. Settle down, have kids, raise a family.”
Terisa ran her hands up and down the main body of the bow with a gentle reverence, barely hearing as the mage educated the youngling. It’s time, she thought at the enchanted weapon. The bow pulsed in her hands, suddenly radiating an eagerness that hadn’t been present before. It was as if it had been sleeping, waiting, and was now awake. The thicker section just above the grip was an intricate cage woven of silvery wood that held within its embrace a smooth pearlescent gem glowing softly in the morning light. The bowstring was only faintly visible, seeming to be barely there, the gossamer strand only occasionally catching the light.
“A dozen or so people out of a hundred will reach their fiftieth level before old age cuts their regen back ‘til they finally succumb to sickness, or just get tired and die,” continued Nessara in the background. “Out of those, another dozen out of a hundred will find some reason to push on. War, adventure, stubborn determination… whatever their reason, they’ll get into their sixties. Lot of them come here; once you’re that high, you’ll likely only gain levels out there, in the Wildlands. There are more level fifty-plus classers in this city than in entire nations. Not even Stormbreak Isle comes close.”
“And Terisa is in charge of them all?” asked the Worldwalker.
“Heh,” grunted Kojeg as the huntress knocked an arrow against the ghostly string and let herself relax. “No one is ‘in charge of’ this city, lass, but if there’s a top dog sitting on this gathering of mutts, they walk small when she goes a-hunting.”
“Every now and then,” said the mage, “once or twice, maybe, in ten thousand or more people, someone has the fire. Something driving them to keep pushing, whether it’s ambition or pride or greed… something simply makes them relentless. Terisa has fought more than one war, and went adventuring with Kojeg and I for over twenty years in between them. Her story is hers alone to tell, but…”
The mage trailed off and the dwarf continued. “Lassie, ye’ve seen the Great Forge, and ye build mighty works. But now ye stand before true power, earned the hard way. The [Wild-Heart Huntress] be level seventy and four, and not a score others in Anfealt are alive at this moment with higher levels.”
Terisa finally tuned them out completely, her will combining with that of the Living Weapon in her hands. The arrow was simple and mundane, albeit of exemplary quality, enabling it to withstand the terrible pressure applied by the magic coursing through the bow. Focusing her mind, she settled into an almost trance-like state as she felt her own Mana and Stamina drawn in to merge with the will of the weapon itself.
Now!
The thought came unbidden from her mind, echoed by a gentle wave of power that emanated from the bow. She took a deep breath as the bow came up, and up, until the tip of the arrow was nearly vertical. The muscles of her arms stood out like coiled steel springs and cables under tanned-parchment skin as she drew the string back as far as it would go. The energy from her Mana and Stamina roared through her veins, and though she felt calm, the light bent around her as the magic drew in to squeeze down to a point just ahead of the bow’s glowing gem. As the stones around her began to vibrate with power, she Spoke.
“Now, Althenea! Pierce the heavens!”
Her fingers released the bowstring. The concussive force from the string returning to its neutral position drove the crowd -- Dana included, despite her armor's best attempts to keep her upright -- to their knees. Kojeg and Nessara alone remained standing, a testament to their own strength and power.
Slung upward as though born aloft by a rocket, the arrow flew skyward with such force that it split the air apart, ionizing it into an incandescent column; a lighting bolt cast back to the clouds, leaving a jagged afterimage in its wake.
A mile and more into the air, the mana wreathing the arrow detonated into a brilliant flare, so bright that the rising sun itself hid its face.
Terisa, lowering her arms, blinked the remnants of her signal out of her eyes. As the city began to reverberate to the beat of unseen drums, and a clamor rose up from the ranks assembled atop the barricade, she gently ran her fingers over the bow.
Softly, so softly that only those closest to her might hear, she whispered, "I declare this year's expedition underway."
Dana had regained her footing by now, expression still shell-shocked for a moment more. Approaching the huntress, she said, "You called your bow 'Althenea.' Isn't that your sister's name?"
Terisa turned her head, expression unreadable, but with just a hint of longing. "Yes," she replied, sighing. "And I'll tell you the story behind that...if you'll answer me one question."
Dana brimmed with excitement. "I can't say no to that! I'll answer whatever question you have! ...As long as it doesn't violate my oaths," she amended quickly.
Terisa cracked the ghost of a grin. "Perfect. Now… tell me... How do you relieve yourself in that suit of yours? You haven't taken it off in the three days you've been in the city, and you haven't visited the latrines even once. And I don't see anybody else asking."
The Worldwalker opened her mouth, shut it, and blushed furiously as the crowd burst into raucous laughter.
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 23: Expedition",
"author": "a_man_in_black",
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|
Morgan Mackenzie was very angry. And frustrated. And fatigued, to the point of exhaustion. Her [Flame Affinity] and [Heat Affinity] were getting a serious workout -- which was good -- but the effort of continuously flash-frying the sinister pollen out of the air was a pain in her bare backside. It used up her Mana when she knew she was heading for a fight against a foe of unknown power, which was bad. Keeping the flames going wasn’t that intensive on its own, but her initial outburst of fire had definitely gotten the dungeon’s attention.
The dungeon itself had given up on trying to wrap her up in simple vines and roots. Three times had the tendrils of thorny green shot out from the walls and floor to wrap around her limbs and torso. The first time it happened, Morgan was about to panic before her auto-rejection kicked in. It seemed that if she wasn’t the one trying to put something on her body, the reaction affected the offending thing and not her body. The third time, the vines stayed on her body barely long enough for her to start to laugh before an incandescent flash hurled them away.
Then the monsters came. Crawling [Barbed Creepers] met a fiery end. A [Verdant Slime] proved resistant to her Frost spells, and Morgan had been terrified for her friend for a moment when Lulu had charged the blorping blob. The effectiveness of the loofah’s exfoliation abilities proved more than a match, however, as the puffball scrubbed its way into the slime and caused it to explode in a disgusting flood of bubbles and green goop.
“Good scrubby…” she murmured as the loofah returned to her shoulder. She didn’t even spare a thought for the pool of nasty ick that the scrubby had just been exposed to.
The living walls of the dungeon randomly sprouted various buds, and while most released pollen or dripped acid, some of them spat bolts of greenish-black magic at her. The first one had struck her arm and left it paralyzed for over an hour while the smell of rot and decay hung in the air after the hit. Lulu’s cleansing abilities had no effect on the magical contamination, but Morgan’s inherent healing had let her power through until the effect wore off.
[Spell Parry] was useless against the worst of the attacks she had been forced to deal with, however. She had come across massive rooted balls of vines and greenery that shot thorn-like projectiles at her as fast as arrows. These new foes appeared less often than the others, which was for the better -- they were at once dense enough to survive her flame, and devoid of magic to the point where [Spell Parry] couldn’t deflect them. After a half-dozen thorns pierced her left side and thigh while jumping back from the initial volley, she quickly learned to reflexively use [Wind Barrier] as a counter and eventually managed to gain [Air Affinity] from it. The plants that shot them burned easily enough, but the spikes were a constant annoyance until the vine-creatures actually died.
She is distracted. We come closer to waking from the dreams. The messages from the creepy psychic not-spider still felt alien and uncomfortable in Morgan’s mind.
You and your children? she responded. Or you and all the other critters this Solana has trapped?
Yes.
The not-spider was only adding to Morgan’s frustration by this point, and her irritation was beginning to affect her magic. Not in a bad way, though; not exactly. Her Fire was becoming more volatile, quicker to ignite -- snappier, if she had to put a single word to it. She didn’t bother trying to control it past a vague direction, simply throwing destruction at this or that thing with indiscriminate fury. Her [Hailstones] were no longer smooth spheres of unblemished ice. Rather, they were rough, jagged chunks in glaciated shades of blue and green, sharp-edged and hungry as she launched them at anything that moved. [Frost Bolt] was likewise wild and uncontrolled, as was her [Lightning Bolt], each crackling and snapping with use.
So it’s both… thought Morgan to herself as she blasted a horrid creature that looked like brambled vines had attached to the limbs of a small deer to manipulate it like a puppet. She was angry at being attacked, and she was even angrier at the horror of the mere existence of such a macabre plant puppeteer. She found herself only slightly mollified to learn that her latest kill had granted her another level.
You have reached Level 12! Health and Status partially restored!
Rewarded points doubled by Class Traits! 10 distributable Stat points awarded.Class Template: [Skyclad Sorceress] auto-assigns 3 points(+1 VIT, +2 INT), Distributable points reduced to 7.10 Skill points awarded.
You grow stronger through battle! the not-spider spoke into her mind. Solana fears the flames, but my children perish as well.
Morgan chose not to respond, humming to herself as she flash-burned the pollen out of the air once again. It took only a few moments for her to put all her new stat points towards Intellect. A quick glance at the Skills menu showed nothing new or interesting so she decided to save the skill points. The increase to her Mana reserves was extremely welcome, and she spent some of it to raise two walls of icy spears to block off a space in the corridor to allow her to take a short break.
Temporarily protected by the walls of ice, and giggling about gaining the skill [Frost Wall], Morgan took a few minutes to eat another leaf-wrapped package of broiled shellipede and let her Stamina and Mana recover naturally. Using her skills to get Mana back was definitely useful, but far less efficient than the slower regeneration. She was getting much better at judging how much she could push herself at burning calories, but she much preferred having food on hand to recover.
“Three meals left, Lulu,” she told the scrubby after finishing her lunch. She gave the loofah an affectionate pat, her mood now much improved after eating. “I need to finish this up before I run out of food.”
So, she thought at the not-spider. The dungeon keeps shifting, keeping me away from the center.
I grow stronger as well, replied the inhuman being. There are others in reach whom I devour for strength. By the time you reach Solana, we may wrest the Eye from her grasp if we cooperate.
What exactly is this Eye?
Fragment. Shard. Sliver. Essence of something greater, something old. The one of might and crystal devoured an enemy and scattered the remains. Images accompanied the words, vague impressions of a massive beast the size of a dump truck locked in battle with an abomination of twisted limbs and shelled carapace, even larger than the titan. Some fragments retained the power.
So how does Solana use the Eye?
Many creatures who sense the power are tempted. I was no exception. Solana weaves the traps and walls, tainting the air with dust that brings the dream. More images and emotions followed, the thrill of the hunt, the desire to get stronger, seeking the scent of power and the smug satisfaction followed by the despair of being trapped. The Eye feeds on the sleepers, and Solana feeds on the Eye.
Morgan had not stood idle while she conversed mentally with the psychic being. She had shattered her own ice walls and continued through the dungeon halls. The increase in her magical efficacy from the extra Intellect attribute may have been slight, but it compounded over time. She was also very much ready to no longer be in the dungeon.
So we just need to separate her from the thing itself? I hope you aren’t talking about a literal eyeball here…
That which it once was, it is no longer. A jewel too large to carry, it rests below Solana’s waters.
Morgan held her thoughts close at the last bit of information. If the object powering the dungeon was a crystal gem, then that opened up definite possibilities for her since she could manipulate or control its structure with [Crystalkinesis]. Or, at least, she presumed she could, were she close enough to the thing. She had no intentions whatsoever to attempt to keep or use the Eye for herself; things like that ended badly in every movie she had ever watched and every story she’d ever read. Breaking things, however, was always much easier than making or using a given thing.
The way the dungeon keeps changing to keep me from the center is getting tedious. I need a more direct route, she thought at the not-spider. How many walls between where I am now and Solana?
An image came in response instead of words, and feelings of hunger laced with anticipation. She was actually no more than fifty paces from the center, although the current path through the maze led through twists and turns for at least a quarter-mile. Only six walls stood between Morgan and her foe, the innermost section being easily twice as thick as the rest.
“I think I can deal with this,” she said both out loud and to the not-spider in her mind.
She had kept up leaving a trail of breadcrumbs via inscribed runes as she wandered the dungeon, and the practice had paid dividends by increasing her understanding of structured Mana. While she could only scrape the surface of the ground to a depth of about a half an inch with [Terrakinesis], it was still enough for her to work with. She gathered six clumps of earth about the size of her fist, and flattened them down into smooth disks. A bit of heat and fire softened them, allowing her to compress the density even further and improve the strength.
What are you doing?
“Making a new enchantment rune,” murmured Morgan absentmindedly as she held one of the disks between her hands, leaving the other five floating lazily above her head. Lulu amused herself by hopping from one floating disk to the other with happy purbles while the scrubby’s mistress worked on the last.
Creating her first [Candleflame Rune] had been as simple as forming the structure of the spell with barely a wisp of Mana, not giving it enough power to actually activate the spell. Her skills had vastly improved since that day in the forest, especially since learning her enchantments for spatial storage. Her increased Intellect helped her hold far more detail in her mind as well, and she set about inscribing a new rune into the disk. Going as much on instinct as she was planning ahead, she laid the underlying pattern of her [Plasma Glaive] spell into the disk. The thin bands of Fire Mana did not want to form at first, but then she separated the stone itself into twin interlocking spirals: fire flowed one way, Lightning the other.
Powering the rune herself was not something she could sustain in any useful capacity, but she didn’t need to. A simple tracing of her fingers across her left hip-bone, and the shard of crystal from the dead shellipede sprang into existence to float a few inches away from her hand.
Shock and surprise came from the not-spider. You bring a reservoir of power! And it is attuned to you through victorious combat!
“Not too sure what that means, but I could probably guess,” she replied, using a surge of willpower and relying on her [Crystal Affinity] to separate a finger-width section of the shard. “And yeah, it’s full of my own Mana, if that’s what you mean by attuned.” Another gesture had the larger crystal disappearing back into her storage rune, leaving her with a needle of Mana-charged crystal as long as her forearm.
As simple as thinking it and a gentle flick with her [Terrakinesis], the prototype rune she had formed snapped from a nearly flat disk into a wide cone of interlocking spirals. Splitting the sliver of Mana Crystal into six fragments took much more effort, but was still well within her capacity. Carefully, she levitated one of the crystal pieces into the center of the rune, activating [Mana Link] to magically connect the two pieces even as she pulled with her Earth magic and tightened the spirals together to physically lock them around the shard.
You have learned the enchantment [Plasma Lance Rune]! Imbue your [Plasma Glaive] spell into a rune for use at a time and place of your choosing!
“Gotcha!” exclaimed Morgan as she gave a quick fist pump, startling the loofah perched on her shoulder. The notification was followed by another, even more welcome burst of information:
You have increased your understanding of [Runic Enchantment]! Your [Soul Anchor] has gained a level! Living Runes that have been linked to the [Soul Anchor] may now grow to a maximum level of three! You may now link a total of three Living Runes to the [Soul Anchor]!
“Nice!” she said, checking to see if any new runes had appeared in her menu; unfortunately, there were none. Given her current situation, Morgan was unwilling to stop and try to devise another new rune on her own; not with danger potentially lurking around every corner. She decided to worry about those things later, and quickly copied the new enchantment onto the remaining disks while using the pieces of Mana Crystal as a socketed power source.
Placing one of the enchanted disks was simple enough. She merely pulled barbed hooks out from the sides of each disk with [Terrakinesis] and drove them into the wall. Stepping back, she reached out with [Mana Link] and activated the rune, both [Spell Parry] and [Wind Barrier] at the ready.
With a thunderous flaming roar, a round section of the wall flared with a purple light and simply ceased to be. Past the falling rain of cinders, the corridor beyond could now be seen through an opening that was over five feet wide. Where it had once crouched, hidden and waiting, the barely-recognizable remains of one of the thorn-throwing shrubs twitched, smoldering. The loofah gave an almost impressed sounding wurble from its perch on her shoulder as she stepped through to place the next rune.
That was certainly effective…
The not-spider’s tone had definitely changed to something much more wary and nervous. It didn’t sound afraid, but it definitely respected her more. Morgan also thought she could detect a bit of eagerness to the flavor of the thing’s thoughts, although she could already tell that psychic magics would never be one of her specializations, so she could not be entirely sure about that last bit.
“Daddy always said, nothing solves a problem like fire. If fire doesn’t fix it, use more fire.”
My kind do not use fire, but the logic fits for a certain subset of problem types.
The next wall had no enemies on the other side, but the enraged screams emanating from the very leaves and plants on the walls and the canopied ceiling gave proof that Solana was definitely not pleased with her current activities. She could also hear a lot more movement in the distance, and feel rumblings in the ground beneath her feet. Slicing through the cacophony came another sound, then, deep as the ocean and terrible in its leonine fury: the roar of a great cat, like the ripping yowl of a housecat, but with the bass turned up to an organ-rattling thrum.
“Sounds like I’m not the only one tired of being in this dungeon,” she said to Lulu as she placed the next [Plasma Lance Rune] on the wall ahead. This time the breach was filled almost instantly with creatures, but instead of attacking her they all seemed more concerned with getting out than with trying to make a meal of her.
She weakens! We awaken! the voice exulted. The [Nightstride Panther] holds her at bay while the others flee! Hurry!
Two of the remaining three walls were demolished in rapid succession, and the sounds of terrible battle grew louder. The last wall was thicker than the others, and the blast merely burned a crater over a meter deep into the vine-woven structure. Morgan simply raised one hand and fired a brief burst with [Plasma Glaive], and she was through. The room beyond was the size of an auditorium, although the ceiling wasn’t very high. Several of the actual passageways in and out of the center area were open, natural arches of woven branches, plants and stone and earth melded together. Through these doorways fled a plethora of creatures: Tyrannorabbits, Murdersquirrels, many different kinds of deer or elk for which she had no name. Weakened as they were, their only options were to escape or die trying. Three creatures, however, showed no signs of fleeing: one, the enormous panther-like being she had seen before, and another, looking like nothing so much as a cross between a carpenter spider and a scorpion the size of a Saint Bernard.
So that’s the not-spider, thought Morgan to herself as she entered the room.
Definitely not a spider! came the frantic response, as it gave a hiss almost too high-pitched to hear while dodging a flailing clump of vines and stone that slammed into the ground where it had previously been- scuttling? She tried to keep the thought to herself, but failed and was rewarded with consternation and thoughts of reproach from the creature.
Use your fire! But remember: the panther and I are not immune to it!
The third and final creature, Solana herself, was over eight feet tall; a massively overdone caricature of a woman in the likeness of the old tribal fertility goddess figurines Morgan had read about and seen pictures of in a few different classes in school. Dirt and roots formed slender legs that widened into ridiculously exaggerated hips and a tiny waist that spread back out to an enormous bosom. A comparatively tiny head formed of ivy leaves with a thorny mouth and no eyes that Morgan could see continuously screamed like the sound of a windstorm over dead leaves magnified to thunderous volume.
Even emaciated and starved half to death, the panther emanated a savage power as it faced Solana from the side opposite the not-spider. Everywhere the root-woman struck, the panther suddenly was not. It seemed to phase into shadow and resolidify a pace to the left, or to the right, its roars and snarls fading in those transitory moments as if the massive cat was suddenly much farther away and then came rushing back. Shredded branches littered the room, evidence of the work of its claws and teeth.
Where Solana attacked the not-spider, it was a different sort of battle. The psychic creature seemed to step around the being’s attacks like it could tell where the strikes would hit, and each time it left more sticky web and sizzling acidic venom on that appendage. It took the woman-shaped body of vines and leaves longer and longer each time to withdraw whatever tendrils she used, the masses of webbing holding her limbs to the floor or wall for just an extra second or so each time while the greyish-black venom hissed and spat, burning away layers of plant matter.
As Morgan drew nearer, so far ignored by the root-woman, she could see that the woman-shaped monster was held over a pool of water that glowed with a green light emanating from the depths, and instead of using fire and risking hurting the panther or the not-spider, Morgan froze the pool.
The waters solidified with a snap right as Solana lunged for the panther, and her momentum caused the roots connecting her lower legs with the pool to simply break loose.
The monster’s screams turned harsher then, an echoing assault of sound and fury even as she began to visibly wither. No longer bound to one spot, it rushed at Morgan. Thorny spikes sprouted in one last desperate effort that caused the leafy mane draped down its shoulders to shrivel and dry up, but it proved to be in vain. Morgan simply let the creature close with her, and then once again burst into violet, super-heated flames. Dried out from its own efforts, the room was suddenly silent save for the softly burning corpse that had once ruled over a dungeon, and Morgan gained another level. She had also gained mastery of [Heat Affinity] when she pulled the heat out of the water to freeze it, and having mastered [Fire Affinity] earlier in the dungeon, another notification heralded her acquisition of [Pyrokinesis]. Two affinities seemed to be required for that one, but it was a welcome addition to her abilities with manipulating Earth.
“Well that was easier than I expected,” said Morgan.
The panther yowled, fleeing through the nearest opening, but the not-spider remained near the edge of the icy pool.
Once separated from the waters and the Eye, her power was greatly diminished. Now I shall claim the Eye.
“Yeah, I thought you might want to do that once Solana was gone. Thing is, I can feel how bad that thing is from here. I’m going to destroy it.”
No. The mental word was accompanied by a massive push into her mind that drove Morgan to her knees. Shaking with terror, she grabbed Lulu and hid the loofah in her storage rune out of fear for its life. For but a moment, as the fell creature's power was brought to bear, its mind reaching out to choke out her own in a black, abyssal embrace, Morgan knew abject fear. The moment passed, and then Morgan knew nothing at all. Then, as though from the depths of her soul -- a keening cry, a wordless rejection. Two points of glimmering violet blazed, and something old beyond measure and filled with awful power rose to fill the gap: another Morgan, a not-Morgan, her most primal self who had no understanding of words and no need to speak them, for the oldest things needed no words to express.
That wordless rage burst from her lips, drowning out the spider-creature's enraged shrieks at its lost opportunity. Her arm raised itself up level with the beast, jagged lightning skittering towards her palm, throwing her face into sharp relief and highlighting the primal savagery etched into her expression. Gone was the human; here now was survival incarnate, writ large and terrible. A shaft of pure actinide destruction lanced forth from its outthrust palm, swiftly growing and spreading to encompass the floor before her, the creature ahead, and the wall beyond, the very air screaming as it found itself riven apart by forces older than knowing. The arm lowered. The figure turned, lacking even the capacity for grim satisfaction at the carnage it wrought. It beheld the Eye, and saw that it was bad. It considered, as much as it could, and arrived at the only course of action it could countenance: destruction, raw and untamed. It raised its arms, fire sweeping along its body as it began its work. A grasping pulse of raw magical power spread outwards from the figure, rolling through the dungeon like a great wave. As it went, it touched the little castoff pieces of earth and stone that Morgan had littered behind her to mark her way, sitting amongst themselves throughout the dungeon as dry, scant reminders of the path an adventurer once took. But that was not all they were. Engraved upon each was two small runes: one, to link themselves back to her, and the newly-upgraded [Pyreflame Rune]. Several thousand of these small objects sat, waiting with the patience of stone. As one, the runic symbols on the rocks began to glow in sympathy with the will of their creator. As one, they heated. And as one, they burst into a column of fire, adding themselves to the inferno being crafted in the dungeon's heart.
Thousands of leagues away, a newly-minted Oracle staggered and slumped against a fence in a small town, looking upon the towering monument to destruction being wrought.
Much closer, merely hundreds of miles distant, there stood a Tree.
And deep beneath that Tree, miles down, at the very bottom of the roots, something moved.
|
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Morgan Mackenzie was having a very bad day. By the end of her waitressing shift, her relief had yet to show up. None of the other waitresses had been willing to answer their phones, so Morgan was stuck picking up a double shift. As nice as it was collecting tips on a Friday night, she had already had plans, which she had had to cancel.
As if they don’t do this shit on purpose every week, she thought to herself with a bitter smile as she closed out her register and turned it in, collecting her tips before she headed out the door. It was the third week in a row she had been forced to cancel her own plans, and it was the same waitresses who didn’t show up as it had been both times before. I think I’m beginning to see a pattern here, was her next sarcastic thought. Already in a sour mood, she fumbled her keys twice before managing to unlock the driver’s side door to her car. Once she got the seat belt buckled, she just lay her forehead on the steering wheel, sitting and stewing in her own cynical misery. Her phone buzzed in her purse, heralding what she was certain were angry messages from her on-again off-again sometimes-boyfriend, angry at taking second place to her job.
"Them’s the breaks, buddy; you don’t pay my rent," she muttered to herself as she cranked the engine and pulled into the late night traffic to head home. It’s not like we’ve ever been any more serious than a few drinks here or a wild night or two every other weekend, she mused silently to herself. She just wanted to get home. Her feet hurt, her back hurt, and she was extremely eager for a long bath and a comfy bed. The drive home passed in the forgettable blur experienced by anyone familiar with a routine commute to and from work.
She belatedly trudged her way from the parking lot up two flights of stairs to the door of her small studio apartment. Kicking the door shut, she stepped around her couch to the unofficial bedroom side of the single room dwelling and flopped down on the unmade bed. With a sigh she finally rolled over to retrieve her incessantly buzzing phone from her purse. Instead of angry messages from her boyfriend, it was a message from her best friend Michelle, with a picture attached.
>hey isn’t this your boyfriend Dylan?
The picture showed what was certainly a block party or back room of some club somewhere, with her so-called boyfriend sitting with a grinning blonde in his lap. Even with the other woman’s top pushed down to her waist, Morgan had no trouble recognizing Sara, the waitress who had not bothered showing up and stuck her with a double shift. For a few moments, Morgan just stared at the image, not quite able to process it. She found herself equal parts angry and apathetic. On the one hand, things had not exactly been stellar between her and Dylan in the first place. On the other hand, she had been sleeping with him on a near regular basis for nearly the past year. Territorial instincts warred with her natural tendency to just not care.
It’s not like we did all that much other than fuck, she thought. Dylan was always the extroverted socialite, always doing something, always the people person. Morgan was a working college student, and preferred staying in on the nights she had free. I should have expected this sooner, if I’m completely honest with myself, she told herself. Her emotions flickered back and forth between feeling used, and feeling like she deserved it for not being willing to indulge his plans more often than she had been. But the longer she looked at that picture, the more she felt the balance begin to tip. Not only had the other woman poached Morgan’s man from her, she had foisted off her shifts at work onto Morgan in order to do so. As she stared at the other woman’s happy smile and generous bosom, anger began to beat back her apathy and self-loathing. And then anger won out, and her phone hit the far wall hard enough to shatter the screen and break something important inside it, turning the screen black forevermore.
Peeling off her work uniform, Morgan gazed at herself in the mirror, and soon felt the anger burning out, leaving apathy behind. With an expression like she’d just bitten into an unripe lime, she tossed her bra aside and slipped out of her panties. The woman staring back at her in the mirror wasn’t ugly by any means, but Morgan had always been quietly envious of her more curvy and well-endowed peers. With her hands on her hips, she arched her back and puffed out her chest...then released her posture again with a sigh. At five feet and four inches tall, with ghostly pale skin and her hip bones and the outline of her ribs just barely noticeable, she was just a little too slender to be called curvy and a little too tall to consider herself petite.
“Not even B cups. I’ll never compete with that!” she snarled in the direction of her broken phone. Stalking back and forth in front of the mirror, she tugged her hair tie loose and let her raven-black locks free with a shake of her head. “What I need,” she declared as she ran her fingers through her waist-length hair, “is a rebound. A one night stand to get over this shit. I deserve to get slutty every once in a while!”
Turning her back on the mirror she began to hum to herself as she dug through her closet. Not this. Or this. Or that, she thought to herself. Finally finding what she was looking for, she removed a sheer black dress with tiny string-like straps from her closet and draped it lovingly across her bed. Simple and perfect. “Let’s see here. Just the dress, the heels, and my ID for the booze,” she giggled at herself, amused by her own sudden boldness. Then her hand trailed over her thigh, and the prickliness of her body hair caught her attention. "But first, a bath," she declared to the empty apartment.
Deciding not to waste time, as much in a hurry to get out the door before the local bars closed as she was to get going before she could talk herself out of it, Morgan quickly ran a bath and took care of her grooming as the tub filled up. Dunking herself to wet her hair, she lathered her mane vigorously with shampoo. It was right as she was working some moisturizer into a froth in her poofy loofah ball that the lights went out in her apartment.
“An outage!? NOW!?” she raged at the total darkness. “FUCK! I can’t see shit… How can this day get ANY FUCKING WORSE?”
And then the bathtub fell through the floor, and Morgan had just enough time to look up and see two moons wreathed in a few wispy clouds before she was falling.
And, of course, screaming.
|
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Millie Thatcher sat on the back of a wagon, happily eating her breakfast of a thick slice of fried bacon and a biscuit. She washed them down with water from a skin before replacing the stopper with a twist of her hand and fingers that was now only slightly awkward instead of truly difficult. The signs of the Deskren encampment could be seen to the southwest, and the caravan buzzed with nervous whispers from the more doubtful civilians. She no longer counted herself among them, and her faith in whatever plan The General had to deal with the enemy was enough to banish her own fears. What that plan might have been, the Battle-Bard had no idea; she merely held to the certainty that he did, in fact, have a plan.
The caravan had been obliged to slow down after descending into a shallow valley. The ground had been littered with smooth stones, from tiny pebbles up to wagon-sized boulders that had to be navigated around. Short trees and stunted shrub growth grew in sparse patches, scattered across the cracked clay that had dried in the summer sun. The mounts of the Lancers had fared much better than most of the wagons, but Hett’s mules merely seemed insulted by the inconvenience. More than a few members of the refugee column had been forced to dodge fist-sized chunks of stone when the hot-tempered equines kicked the obstacles out of their way. At least the terrain was slowing the Deskren as well; a small boon, for the reports brought back by the scouts were a thing the Battlemaster had not tried to keep secret.
Gendarmes. The word had spread through the refugees like wildfire, sowing panic in their wake. No mere Hoplites, the elite infantry of the Empire had finally been turned loose on their trail. Millie could see why Jacob had not bothered to keep the rumors quiet: the fear had the refugees packing up in the mornings without complaint, and marching all day without pestering the Soldiers for rest, so they had made good time in the three days they’d been in the shallow valley. To the northwest the taller trees and hills rose above the flats; she knew they’d reach higher ground and smoother terrain by mid-day.
Jacob approached from the direction of the blacksmith’s wagon, carrying a bundle, and the reason for Millie’s happy excitement, draped over his arm. There had been no armor sized for one as small as her, and the sight of the fitted chainmail had the girl grinning despite her intent to maintain orderly composure. Soldier or not, and despite growing up fast, she couldn’t help some childish displays.
“You’ll have to head over to Erin’s tent so she and Jenna can help you get kitted out,” said the Battlemaster, as Millie jumped to her feet to stand at attention. “There’s just no way to fasten the gauntlet and plate for the arm with only one hand.”
Hett spat a plug of tobacco off the side of the wagon, and leaned into the conversation. “Iffen we reach a city, ye can place an order for an arm for the girl.”
Jacob looked at the old man with incredulity. “I thought that would have to wait until she was grown?”
“Nay, there’s a [Lifesteel Architect] in Sprocket, the Gnome capital. He takes special jobs like hers, so I hear.”
“And the price?” Jacob asked warily.
“Jes’ a small thing,” Hett replied, shaking his head. “With a company of Soldiers, honest gold won’t be hard to come by. ‘Specially once the new Oracle whips the nobility inta shape at the Gathering of Kings.”
Jacob turned to look across the encampment, where tents were being packed up and wagons made ready for the march. “We have to get the Deskren off our backs first.”
Millie listened to the two men as she inspected her new gear. The pants and tunic and boots, she already wore; Miss Erin had made sure to get them properly hemmed up and fitted the day she woke up with her class. Her armored vambrace clasped her arm and connected to a shoulder pauldron, and the outer surface bore a lacquered steel plate, matching the rank patch on her tunic.
“Aye,” said the Battlemaster after watching her stare for a moment. “Back home it would be gold instead of red, but it seemed more fitting.” His expression turned pensive, and he glanced away.“Back home you’d be in school, teasing boys instead of marching in a war, too.”
He seemed sad, wracked by a deep-seated grief she couldn’t understand. Millie knew she was not unique, and that many families had been torn apart or worse by the Deskren. She felt lucky to have a chance to fight back and actually be effective.
“They tell me I can’t revoke the Title without damaging your Class and, by extension, your Soul. If you’re stuck being a Soldier because of me, by God you’ll be the best one I can make you. Report to Erin to get that armor on. You’ll be on the wagon today, where all the troops can see and hear. I want you to drum us up a storm.”
Millie saluted, then tucked her new gear under her arm and turned away, as her commander turned back to Hett to discuss his plans with the old veteran.
========================================
Commander Calvin Descroix gazed down at a map pinned to a folding camp table inside the Gendarmes’ command tent. The Battlemaster leading the refugees had become a thorn in his side, slaughtering Hoplite units wholesale and hitting every supply train that his scouts could find. Left to his own devices, the commander would simply have withdrawn and let the refugees escape, but the Imperial Seal on his orders brooked no disobedience, especially when it came to Worldwalkers, which were to be captured at all costs. Even his own life was expendable, should it come to that. His status as the fourth son of the Emperor would not protect him from the old man’s wrath, especially considering his lifelong refusal to marry and produce heirs. The emperor had little patience for anything he saw as useless; Calvin’s only option to remain useful required victories on the field.
“I hope we bring this chase to a close soon, Commander,” spoke the man on the other side of the tent. Cruel eyes and a hooked nose perched over the thin mouth that gave rise to that oily voice.
Excruciator Selunj of the Imperial Overseers outranked Calvin by a technicality, and, in his own way, had become as much of an annoyance as the enemy Battlemaster. Following the subjugation of South Hollows, the Deskren army had exhausted its supply of Golden Collars, and the plentiful Black Collars worked most effectively on the young. It was by the Emperor’s wisdom, then, that a full battalion of Overseers accompanied the campaign, to manage the use of the Black Collars in breaking in the higher-leveled slaves they had captured. Selunj existed outside Calvin’s command, reporting directly to the Imperial Throne, and his insistence on earlier attempts to seize the caravan and the pair of Worldwalkers leading it had led to disastrous failures, the blame for which passed easily to Calvin.
He considered his words carefully before answering. Everything he said, he knew, would eventually reach the Emperor’s ears. “If everything goes to plan, we will have them no less than a bell past noon. Southbridge and Ferrytown are ours, and his scouts know it. So he’s turned north.”
“What is he trying to do?” asked Selunj. The man stared at the map as if it were a beast ready to bite. The overseers were best left to their grim work and not sent on campaign, as far as Calvin was concerned. Preferably out of range of my own hearing, thought the Imperial Prince.
“The only thing he can do,” answered the Commander. “He has to have maps, probably better ones than we do. The next nearest crossing of the River Weldt is a fjord nine days to the north. There’s a bridge at the border between Weldtir and Forvale, but that’s another week’s march away. He’s out of time now that we’ve brought the Gendarmes to bear. We’ll carve his caravan to pieces if he tries for either.”
Calvin looked down at the map once more. Something had been tickling the back of his mind for several days, a nervousness he could not shake. The otherworlder leading the refugees had made few mistakes over the summer, avoiding larger forces and ruthlessly crushing weaker groups too slow to evade his Lancers. “I don’t understand,” he said after a few moments, running a hand over his shaven head. “The man is obviously a military veteran from his own world. His best option would have been to make for one of the bridges, but it’s too late for that now that we’re this close on his tail.”
“Explain,” said the Excruciator.
“We don’t have cavalry. The empire has always relied on the beast-born as our heavy troops. They’re extremely effective in the jungles and forests of the homeland, but for holding a position they are found lacking, except for Ursaran or Ma’akan. My father sent no bears or badgers to build or dig, and the wolfmen we do have are not suited to either.”
He tapped a finger over the illustrated bridge where a tiny Imperial flag had been pinned. “We hold Southbridge, but it has no walls. He could break our lines there, even if it would cost him half his horse or more. Once the wagons crossed the bridge, we’d be right back to chasing him. Why did he turn north? There has to be another reason beyond the fact that it’s his least bad option.” The map held no answers for Calvin, and the silence between himself and the Excruciator grew thick and uncomfortable until a scout was ushered into the tent.
The scout knelt before Calvin, then stood with a nod to the Excruciator. “Sir! They’ve stopped at the top of a slope and seem to be digging fortifications.”
Excruciator Selunj gave a crooked smile. “So he’s realized there is no escape?”
“Possibly, sirs. A smaller group of riders led by one who appears similar to descriptions of The General’s wife split off from the main force to continue north.”
Calvin looked once more at the map. “All of my instincts say it must be a trap, but…”
“The opportunity must not be ignored,” finished the Excruciator in his stead. “I shall ride with a small detachment of Gendarmes to see to the woman personally. The Emperor would have both our heads if we simply let a Worldwalker ride away.”
The Commander did his best to ignore the visceral glee that dripped from the other man’s voice as he turned to issue orders to his aide. “The Gendarmes are to advance. Hoplites to the flanks, but they are to hold back until their line is broken.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance out of the clear sky as they exited the command tent. Calvin looked up, but saw no clouds. “Strange weather,” he said with apprehension. “But we do what we must. You have your orders.”
===========================================
Millie Thatcher stood on the back of Hett’s wagon, playing a steady beat on her drum. The caravan had reached high ground shortly before noon, and the Battlemaster had circled the wagons together before setting the Soldiers to digging fortifications. Some of the troops seemed almost embarrassed when Hett joined the effort to clear the high ground of trees, a single swing of his axe felling full-grown timbers with an ease that almost seemed contemptuous.
The refugees were close to panic. Never before had the General actually stopped the wagons for a fight, preferring to keep them moving. Compounding their nervousness was the fact that Jacob had sent his wife Erin away, riding north with most of the mages and plenty of horse. A minor lordling who had lost his lands to the Deskren -- Millie didn’t know his name, nor did she care -- had had the gall to challenge the General, publicly questioning why the caravan’s most powerful mage and healer had been sent to safety, while they prepared to fight and die.
Jacob’s casual backhand had silenced not only his complaint, but any other, his armored gauntlet crushing the man’s jaw and sending him tumbling into a wagon with enough force to splinter the side panels. A shake of his head had halted the pair of healers rushing to help the man.
“We’ll have wounded soldiers to tend to soon enough,” said the Battlemaster, his voice rough and cold. “Save your Mana for those that are about to die for you.” Without another word, he turned and walked away.
Millie didn’t have words for the feeling that was building around the encampment. Those not wounded or young had been set to work in some way: digging, lashing saplings together to set spikes in the ground facing out from the wagons, and last-minute repairs to armor. Everyone worked, and it seemed that the steady beat of her drum lent a form of order to chaos to keep the worst of the panic at bay. So she kept a steady hand, keeping an eye on the Deskren forces downslope of them.
She also couldn’t help glancing at the sky every few minutes. The morning had been clear, the day promising sun and heat just like the past few days of late summer weather. But the wind had picked up soon after the caravan stopped, and now low clouds scudded by, almost touching the treetops. Drum us up a storm, the Battlemaster had said. Millie would have been overjoyed to do so had she known how, but despite how natural her class felt, she was still new to it.
Her mother could have sung thunderheads into existence, were she still alive. The [Whisperwind Songstress] had called rains for the family farm more than once during drought, giving them a much-needed lifeline. She had sang about, and to, different gods and spirits as much as she sang to and for any audience. More names than Millie could remember; to her mother, the important thing had been the songs and the singing more than any capricious deity. Their family had not been anything close to what one could call devout, nor did they worship in service to anyone.
She knew of Paladins and Priests, of course. But their power came from oaths they made and service they offered. Millie served now, too, and while she didn’t fully understand what it was she served, she did feel that she couldn’t swear to anything else. She hadn’t sworn herself verbally to the Battlemaster -- fear had stayed her tongue, and by the time she had conquered it, she had no more words -- but accepting his title and choosing her class had had the same effect. Most of the gods her mother had spoken of would have demanded a similar exchange of vows; those paths now stood barred to her.
But not everything she had sung to her about struck such bargains; thus, the manner in which the songstress called rain and storm. Storms don’t make bargains, Amelia, she had told her one day. We give gifts of song, and if they approve, they answer.
These were the hue of Millie’s thoughts as she counted three heartbeats to a strike on her drum. She had no words to sing. Her loyalty to the Battlemaster and his banner could not be swayed, no bargains could be made. I already gave my words away, she thought as she looked to the sky. I can’t sing you pretty songs. All I have is my drum. Is it enough?
The clouds had darkened the day to shadow just as the Deskren formation marched out of the lower treeline, dread Gendarmes in the lead. Standing on the wagon, Millie saw them before anyone save the Battlemaster himself, sitting tall on his charger. She raised her hand to the sky and waited, watching for the hand signal she knew was coming. Jacob Ward met her eyes, and raised his hand to match hers as the winds died. The rumbles of thunder ceased, ushering in a moment of perfect silence. But the answering voice, the whisper that sounded in her mind and caused her eyes to widen in shock was decidedly not from the Worldwalker.
Your drum has pleased Quinus, Harbinger of the Storm! The Harbinger arrives in the silence between the flash of lightning and the crash of thunder!
You have earned the Aspect of the Harbinger! May the Storm answer thy call!
The Battlemaster’s hand dropped with a sharp chopping motion, and Millie felt a tingling in her upraised hand. Sparks buzzed around the metal tip of her baton, arcing down to her gauntlet to dance along the outside of her chainmail, jumping from there to the iron bolts and metal bands on the wagon. Hett’s axe seemed to thrum as the old man broke into laughter.
“Soldiers,” said the Battlemaster in a tone that was almost jovial, now that the wait was over. “We hold this line.” His voice carried across the rise without the man needing to raise his voice. “It’s time to stack bodies.”
Millie’s hand dropped as he nodded to her with the last words.
And thunder came with it.
|
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|
Morgan Mackenzie was having a fairly pleasant day, all things considered. She was still stuck in some magical world that was very not-Earth, and she was still naked. But, she had learned magic, her bath loofah had come alive and was her friend-pet, and nothing had tried to eat her yet on this second day of her new life. She had left the giant tree and headed east towards a body of water that was proving now to be much farther away than she had originally thought. Even that wasn’t too much of a problem as she had crossed several small streams while she wandered east, generally keeping the sun to her back as best she could orient herself in this shadowed forest land. She kept going in the direction the streams had been flowing, hoping they would lead her to a larger body of water and hopefully a settlement or people of some sort. It had been about mid-day when she left the tree, and as the heat of the day began to wane the shadows deepened and the forest gained a more eerie vibe.
Morgan was not looking forward to sleeping in the middle of the forest for another night, not with all the various sounds and animal cries she could occasionally hear in the the distance in all directions. She had been thinking ahead though, and had been trying various ways of using magic as she walked. Using [Lightning Bolt] with [Spell Channeling] had drained her mana almost completely in a mere handful of seconds, but the result had been a rapid stream of smaller but impressive purple bolts that reminded her of a gatling gun. That particular effort had ended with her screaming again, as she ran from a falling tree that she cut off at the base. Her screaming had been punctuated by Lulu’s warbling sounds of approval at the destruction. It had also given her second degree burns on her hand that had taken almost half an hour of constantly channeling [Naked Recovery] to heal. “I really need to learn how to do that without hurting myself,” she told the little scrubby. “My first spell didn’t hurt me at all, so it must mean the heat of the bolts is something I have to figure out.” The pain had only been bearable thanks to [Pain Resistance], and a newly gained [Lightning Resistance] skill had likely kept her from losing the hand entirely.
She had also tried with some success to sort out other elements within the magic. Her attempts to pull just the fire element out had led to her learning the [Flame Bolt] spell. Along with scorching her hand and giving another level to [Heat Resistance], that one had briefly splattered flames into the brush, and she’d had a moment of panic before they sputtered out. Thankfully it seemed it had rained while she had slept, and the forest was too damp and humid for her to accidentally cause an ecological disaster. She thought. She wasn’t too sure she couldn’t cause something like that if she wasn’t careful, but learning more magic was simply too tempting to not do.
The air element had been frustrating. She could sort of make the air around her hand swirl or form an almost solid ball in her hand, but she couldn’t actually do anything with it yet. Trying to push it like [Mana Pulse] or her bolt spells simply made it heavy and hard to move her hand through it. She did not understand the air itself like she did the meaning of fire and lightning. Those were energy, and she could picture how they worked and acted. To move air around required adding energy to it or taking it away, and she didn’t yet have her head around that concept. Water had been only slightly easier, when she stopped near a stream. Morgan had managed to draw a tendril of water up from the creek that was about as wide as her wrist. It had flowed upwards towards her outstretched palm, but holding it in place took momentous effort that drained her mana and caused her to break out in sweat from the strain. None of her efforts with water or air had yet yielded a newly learned skill or any form of magical understanding.
The most rewarding attempt of all had been earth magic. Simply shoving the element out in front of her like with [Mana Pulse] had caused a rippling wave of dirt and rocks to shoot forward out of the ground ahead of her. It barely travelled ten feet in front of her, but the shallow cone of destruction and rubble spread out from a narrow point just inches in front of her toes to wider than she was tall at its farthest away. Morgan thought it certainly looked impressive, and so did Lulu if the puffball’s drawn out warble was anything to go by. The ensuing [Earth Wave] spell adding itself to her repertoire was equally welcome. But the awesomeness of those things interested her far less than what she had learned from using [Spell Channeling] and a more gentle approach.
A little practice as she walked had earned Morgan the spell [Earth Sculpt], and she had gained [Earth Affinity] while absentmindedly molding a ball of mana-infused stone into different shapes over the course of an hour or so. She could manage it without actually touching the stone, but the magic seemed to flow much more easily to her will if she used her hands. The stone was soft like putty as long as she kept a trickle of her mana flowing into it.
She was keeping an eye out for a suitable place to bunker down for the night, planning to use earth magic to burrow in and reinforce a suitable campsite. Morgan had found she could dig in two different ways. She could move the dirt and rocks out and push them around, or with a higher expenditure of mana she could compress them into a stronger form. The earth got harder to work with the more dense and compact it was, but she could overcome that with more mana and a bit of effort.
A promising spot presented itself just before the dusk fell to night. A large tree had fallen over, and its clump of roots had pulled a massive plug of dirt out of a gentle slope. This tree had been dead for some time, and the trunk was mostly rotted away and covered in a thick blanket of moss. The excavated opening faced down the slope towards a small open meadow nestled in the forest. The gap opened by the treefall had allowed the smaller plants and grasses to rush in to take advantage. “OH! BERRIES!” exclaimed Morgan with sudden excitement. With [Naked Instinct] the berries stood out like bright clumps to her eyes. The skill had been giving her lots of extra information the entire day as she walked. It did not display detailed information right onto her eyeballs, it was more like things she looked at had a taste to her vision. Lots of vines and other plants had felt sort of itchy to look at. A clump of mushrooms on the side of a tree had almost made her gag to look at them. Some of the trees had borne what looked like large pecans the size of her fist on them, but while she got the impression that they were edible, she had not been hungry enough to spare the effort of trying to knock some of them down. The berries looked like clusters of blackberries writ extra-large, and the only feeling she got from looking at them was tasty and delicious. Resolved not to rush into another churple type mistake, she left the berries alone for the moment and turned to try to excavate herself a campsite.
“Okay Lulu, this is probably gonna take a few minutes,” she said as she plucked the loofah off her shoulder and set it on the fallen tree. The scrubby set off to explore the immediate area while Morgan turned towards the partially excavated hole. She dug in by compacting the earth outwards to leave an opening roughly as tall as herself and around half as wide. The path inwards she flattened out, and the ceiling she condensed even further for extra strength. She worked her way in at a slight upwards angle for almost a dozen feet, hoping the sloped floor would keep water draining away. The strain had given her two more levels in [Earth Sculpt] and another in [Spell Channeling]. She stopped to rest a moment, leaning up against the newly formed cave wall. “It definitely looks like the harder something is the faster you level the skill,” she said to Lulu as the scrubby made its way over to investigate her progress.
While her mana recovered, Morgan decided to use the last of the day’s light to gather some of the berries in the meadow. She heard thunder rumble in the distance, and decided to wait until morning to make a trip back to the last creek she had passed. With a quick push of mana she pulled a sort of bowl-shaped shelf out of the wall of her cave and set her double handful of berries in it, and then resumed her excavations. She decided on a simple single-room dome, and she had to stop twice to let her mana restore itself. She partook of a tiny bite of the berries both times, simply to make sure they would not cause her to be violently ill or worse. Morgan had no intention exposing herself to something like the churples ever again.
The clouds of the impending storm soon stole the last of the evening light, bringing her efforts to a temporary halt. She stood there in thought for a few minutes before an idea came to mind. With as gentle an effort as she could manage, she pushed a trickle of elemental fire mana into the palm of her hand. The small flame sputtered, and it took effort to not let it expand into a conflagration. As with everything else, her magic felt almost eager to be let loose. While that was great for shooting lightning bolts and throwing fire or moving earth, it made small things tricky. “So with just a little fire mana I can make a light,” she said to Lulu. “OH SHIT!”
Trying to talk had diverted her attention and the candle-sized flame had engulfed her hand until she shook it out. A brief moment of healing fixed the blistering skin, and she tried again. This time she focused on holding the flame farther away from her hands. It drained at her mana nearly twice as fast to control the fire barely a foot away from her upturned palm, but that was preferable to burning herself. The hard part was that the flame just didn’t want to be still. If she let it, the fire simply roiled in a sphere that spat jets of flame several inches in every direction.
With her mana almost halfway depleted and with her frustration building, Morgan gave up on holding the fire still. Moving her hand back and forth, the fire followed, and the drain on her mana actually lessened. “Huh.” she said, this time managing to keep the fire under control while she talked. “If it likes to move, then i’ll just try to let it move!” She let the flame move around her hand, keeping it from getting too close to her skin. And then she held it up in both hands and simply let it twist in place. It settled into a rotation that just felt right. And then she received a notification.
You have gained the skill [Fire Affinity]! Fire gives life, and burns it away! Your ability to sense the forces and flows of Fire have increased, improving the effectiveness and efficiency of all Fire spells!
You have learned the Spell [Candleflame]! Weave Fire into a persistent orb of magic to produce light and warmth! Practice and experience will help you focus and control the flame for increased power and efficiency!
The Affinity did not make the flame easier to control, at least not directly. Rather, it let Morgan sense more detail about the flame itself as the mana was converted into fire. That, on the other hand, gave her a better feel for how the fire wanted to move, which did make it easier to nudge into a shape she wanted. Guiding the flame instead of forcing it into a specific shape was far more efficient, and the drain on her mana dropped low enough that it was recovering faster than it was being spent to maintain the orb of flame.
WIth the flame hovering over one hand, Morgan tried to resume her digging. Tried being the operative word as using two spells at once proved more than she could currently manage. Moving hundreds of pounds of dirt at once required a lot more concentration than the little flame did, and focusing on the Earth magic caused the Fire spell to sputter and flare in intensity.
“Well this isn’t going to work, Lulu.” The scrubby gave no response, it seemed preoccupied with scrubbing its way back and forth across the ceiling, leaving polished stone gleaming in its wake. Morgan stood there for a few minutes in thought, completely at a loss and letting the flame slowly rotate in place. Then she tried looping the flow of mana guiding the fire back on itself into a circle.
A very singed and wheezing Morgan struggled to get back to her feet near the entrance to the tunnel a few minutes later. A very angrily warbling Lulu made its way back into the cave, smoke still steaming off the scrubby’s lacey fronds. “Okay,” she gasped as [Naked Recovery] healed the last of the blisters that had been burned across her arms and chest. The loofah’s angry tone shifted to one of concern as it hopped up Morgan’s arm and began gently scrubbing the soot and singed skin away. She gave it a grateful pat and sat there waiting for her Stamina to recover. “That did not go as planned. As soon as the circle closed it just glomped up mana and burned it up all at once…”
The healing had left her exhausted, so she sat and thought while she ate a supper of berries. “I think closing the circle just let it squeeze the mana too hard,” she said, holding up another [Candleflame] orb. Lulu had finished with administering her impromptu pseudo-bath and edged away from Morgan and the glowing ball of fire with a nervous sounding trill. As she formed another circle with the mana, she left several gaps in it. It took more of her mana to keep the fire rotating this way, as if the gaps were like resistors in a circuit. Almost as if the magic had a will of its own, the segments of the circle bent between her hands, forming a slight spiral instead of a circle, followed by a very surprising notification.
You have gained the skill [Runic Enchantment]! Magic follows patterns woven of will and imagination! Inscribe runes with magic to store or empower permanent spells! Practice and experience will allow you to create more detailed runes and inscriptions for more advanced and unique enchantments!
You have learned the Spell [Candleflame Rune]! Anchor your [Candleflame] to any non-living material able to withstand the flame!
Morgan’s dancing and whooping in celebration cut short as she realized the message gave no indication of exactly how to anchor runes. Sticking the orb to the stone wall didn’t do anything at all when she tried it a few times. Pushing the Fire mana into the stone proved more effective, although the stone began to rapidly heat up under her hand. Then she tried pulling the Earth Element mana away from where the rune would fit, almost like a socket. It was like writing or drawing with a pencil thinner than a hair. The Fire mana snapped into place in the minute gaps with an inaudible pop that Morgan felt in her mind, the lines of the rune lighting up like glowing red embers.
“BINGO! Hahaha!”
Morgan now had a fist-sized orb of flame mounted directly on the stone wall of her cave, and it took no concentration at all to keep it burning. She could feel a tiny pull on her mana, but it was less than what her regen provided. She placed a second light on the opposite wall, and the drain felt just about equal to her natural mana recovery rate. “Now I can see what I’m doing!” she said to Lulu as the scrubby purbled in agreement and made its way back to her shoulder.
With the light now taken care of, she returned to excavating a decent room to spend the night in. She had no plans to settle in one place for too long since she hoped to find people, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use her magic to make up for some of the comforts she lacked. She settled on a simple single room dome, pushing the walls out til she had it about six of her paces across. Her efforts were rewarded with another level in [Earth Sculpt] and in [Earth Affinity] as well. Each level in [Earth Sculpt] allowed her to move more earth for a given expenditure of mana, and each level in [Earth Affinity] allowed her to push more of her mana into the earth with greater ease and control. Within an hour she was finished with the main dome, and pulling a raised section out of the wall for a couch type bed took only a negligible effort. She placed another [Candleflame Rune] on the interior wall and then sat down on the stone bed.
The stone was cold and uncomfortable on her bare bottom, but a sudden insight had Morgan sprinting back outside with a protesting Lulu tumbling off her shoulder. Thunder rumbled over head but the rains had yet to arrive. She jogged over to the fallen tree and inspected the fluffy verdant moss that coated the nearly school bus sized trunk. She anchored another light to a column of earth she pulled up from the ground so that she could use both hands, and began to pry a section of the moss away from the log. The thunder grew closer as she worked to dig herself a rough rectangle of the moss away from the log intact. The bark had crumbled underneath, so the hardest part was simply tearing through the interwoven fibers of the moss itself.
Rain began to patter down in fat and heavy drops as Morgan carried her improvised mossy bedroll into the cave. The blanket of moss was slightly larger than her stone couch, but pulling out more stone to match it was mostly trivial. She went back outside long enough to blast apart another part of the tree with a bolt of lightning, and gathered an armful of firewood from the debris. After one last trip outside for another double handful of berries, she withdrew to the shelter of the cave as the storm overhead finally broke loose with a downpour of heavy rain. She cut off the rune she had placed outside for light, and sat back down on the now moss-covered bed. She pulled another bowl-shaped wedge of stone out of the wall for the berries, and sat for a moment in contemplation.
Lulu was vigorously scrubbling its way all over the mossy mat, consuming the gritty debris and dirt from the moss and leaving it with a soft and silky green shine. Morgan gave it several pats in adoration and approval and got up to leave the loofah to it, walking to the other side of the room to work on a fireplace. It had not yet been cold in this new world, but the rain and the night were definitely getting cooler. She definitely intended to make or find some sort of clothing or equipment soon so she could test out the limits of her Naked aspect and skills, and the restrictions the system messages warned her about. Being stuck naked all the time around people, or worse, in the middle of an eventual winter, were not very high on her list of desires. Given her experience so far, she fully expected to gain a cold or frost related resistance eventually, but if they worked anything like [Heat Resistance] and [Pain Resistance], it would merely make things bearable, not pleasant.
She started on her fireplace by pulling a broad shallow bowl out from the wall across from her bed, about halfway as high as her knees. Above that she extended a dozen finger-wide rods of stone to form a sort of simple fire grate. She inscribed a [Candleflame Rune] in the middle of the bowl below the grate, but left it inactive for the moment instead of channeling mana through it to power the flame. After stacking several chunks of her firewood on the grate, she activated the rune with a slight touch of mana. The fire licked up between the gaps in the grate and less than a minute later Morgan had a rather cozy fire going. Cutting off the enchanted rune, she realized she had not accounted for the smoke. Another minute later she realized she had forgotten the rain as well, when the chimney she had hurried to open through the earth above let in a torrent of water that promptly put her fire out. Quickly she extended a cap over the chimney’s top, the effort of working mana that far from her body through that much earth nearly draining her entire mana pool. Taking Lulu’s warble as snickering laughter, she reactivated the rune and sat back to let the magic flame dry and reignite her cozy campfire. Feeling rather proud of herself, she made herself comfortable on the moss mattress. As the wood dried and the fire began burning once again, she cut off all of the rune flames. As she sat there watching the wood burn, she finally pulled up her status menu once again.
Status Information for: Morgan Mackenzie
Level - 8
Primary Class: [Locked]
Secondary Class: [Locked]
Health - 210/210
Stamina - 224/224
Mana - 152/152
STR - 16
AGI - 16
CON - 20
VIT - 28
INT - 19
Stat points available to distribute: 0
Current Skills:
[Naked Instinct]
[Naked Recovery(Lvl 7)]
[Naked Camouflage]
[Naked Resilience]
-[Pain Resistance(Lvl 9)]
-[Heat Resistance(Lvl 8)]
-[Lightning Resistance]
-[Mana Resistance(Lvl 10/Mastered)]
[Naked Magic]
-[Mana Pulse(Lvl 10/Mastered)]
-[Spell Channeling(Lvl 5)]
-[Mana Affinity(Lvl 6)]
[Naked Elementalism]
-[Fire Affinity]
-[Earth Affinity(Lvl 2)]
-[Lightning Bolt]
-[Flame Bolt]
-[Candleflame]
-[Earth Sculpt(Lvl 4)]
-[Earth Wave]
[Runic Enchantment]
-[Candleflame Rune]
Skill Points available: 5
Titles, Mantles, and Aspects
[Worldwalker(Title)] - You have travelled through the void between the many worlds! Every world is different, each with its own gifts and dangers. To help you survive strange new places you gain a slight boost to health and an increased ability to learn new things! (+50 to Health, +50% increased gains to Skill Experience)
[Blessed of the Guardian Tree(Title)] - Through an offering of the blood of your enemies you have reawakened the ancient tree! You need never fear its hungry roots! Future offerings or actions that benefit the tree may enhance this Title!
[Naked Affinity(Aspect)] - Experience gained and points rewarded are doubled while you are [Naked] and [Unequipped]. Base recovery rate of all resource pools are increased. [Naked] variants of skills and abilities enhanced. Rate of skill and ability improvement greatly enhanced. While items or clothing are equipped, this Aspect’s effects are disabled and [Naked] skills and abilities are locked.
The skill list was definitely growing, and Morgan absolutely loved being able to do magic in this world. But the [Naked Affinity] aspect was beginning to concern her. All of her magic so far seemed to stem from Naked aspected skills. While she had never been a prude, she was most certainly not an exhibitionist either. She also had no idea what this world’s system counted as clothing and equipment, and as of yet she had no way to test anything out. Resolving to figure those things out as soon as a safe opportunity presented itself, Morgan fell asleep watching her improvised campfire.
|
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Calvin Descroix looked through a spyglass at the refugee encampment. Practically a fort already, he thought, despite less than a quarter of a day to dig in. Angled trenches marred the direct upslope approach, the only one workable for his forces. Splitting to either side of the fortifications would expose them to withering fire from the Battlemaster’s mages and archers. Worse, the clearer terrain and broad, comparatively shallow slope would make an excellent killing field for his corps of Lancers.
Even from this distance, the steady pounding of drums drifted from the center of the compound, their source a small, childlike figure standing on the largest wagon. As far away as Calvin was, he couldn’t make out more than outlines, but the outline beating its drum was too small to be one of the soldiers. Several days ago, the fleeing refugees had suddenly began marching much faster, and with the bard in sight, the reason was clear. She’s so young, he thought, closing his eyes against the sudden twinge in his chest. But, I can’t change the Empire, and she’ll be collared with the rest of the survivors.... A heartbeat later, he opened his eyes again. That is, if she survives. Mercy was not a virtue often afforded to the Empire’s commanders, but in the chaos of a pitched battle, perhaps an “accident” could be arranged to spare the child a much grimmer fate in the breeding pens of Nouveau Deskra. Bards were rare enough as it was; one with added military skills would be put to use in attempts to create more.
Moreover, this bard appeared to have skills beyond even the military; with every beat of her drum, the clouds overhead darkened. The air began to cool, and shadows deepened all along the rise where the refugees had dug their defenses.
He shook himself out of his thoughts, watching in silence as nearly two thousand Luparan Gendarmes entered formation at the bottom of the distant slope. He turned to the hulking Panthren awaiting orders next to him, the massive leonine form of the Shackled beast-man standing almost as tall as Calvin’s horse. “I don’t see another way around it, Commandant Golthen. We need your battalion to break their lines before we can commit the Hoplites.”
The beast-man rolled his shoulders, the golden glint around his neck just peeking out when the curls of his light brown mane shifted. “It’s why we were sent.” The words were almost a snarl, bitten off around oversized canines, with only half-human lips to refine the shape of the sound
“The one on the wagon seems to be calling up this storm,” he said as thunder rumbled ominously above. “Some form of bard or mage. Take them out and it should be a demoralizing blow, Commandant. As soon as your Gendarmes clear a path, the Hoplites will follow. You know better than I just how bloody this will be…”
“By the Emperor’s command,” replied the half-lion with a savage grin, seemingly eager for the bloodshed. Golthen loped forward to join his soldiers, tightening his heavy clawed gauntlets before securing his helm. As if by unspoken agreement, the rains began just as the Gendarmes began their charge.
=========================================
Millie Thatcher struck her drum, and the blast of thunder stilled the wind and caused every soldier and civilian on the rise to freeze for one single moment. The growing storm above had cast dark shadows across their position, but as the lightning flared, stark white light momentarily drove them back. The lightning dimmed, but stayed, dancing around her chainmail and gauntlet in jagged blue-white arcs, and buzzing around the metal pieces of the wagon and the gleaming head of Hett’s axe. Her baton beat a stuttering tremolo against the stretched hide of the drum, a rapid flickering drumroll before she slid the metal baton along the iron rim. The sparks stretched out between the baton and the edge of the instrument when her hand withdrew, and similar tracings of energy began to arc along the armor and weapons of every Soldier under the Battlemaster’s banner.
The Deskren Gendarmes, uncowed by the dramatic display, rolled up the slope, the wolfmen surging forward in an unstoppable tide of tooth and claw. Rains lashed against the encampment as the storm broke free, but the defenders were unmoved. The soldiers set down their tools and took up their weapons, waiting for orders. Millie kept her drumbeats light and steady, though her cadence had quickened: still three heartbeats to a strike, but that heartbeat had started to race.
When less than a third of the distance between the attackers and the first row of spiked trees remained, the Battlemaster spoke, and at his word, Millie struck the drum once more, then held the baton against the head, arm quivering.
“Now.”
Over a hundred Deskren crossbows let go with one collective snap, and the front line of Gendarmes crumpled just a hundred paces shy of the defenses. Taken when the Lancers had surprised an enemy supply convoy, the General had insisted all of the Soldiers practice with the weapons regardless of class or existing skills. Now that insistence paid off; very few of the projectiles missed. As the bolts struck the wolfmen, they exploded in lightning and thudding rumbles of thunder borrowed from Millie’s drum. The first line of Gendarmes fell and died, and those behind howled in a fury that drove back the rain. Then they reached the makeshift barricades and trenches, and the battle devolved to a grand melee of shield, and spear and axe and sword.
========================================
Jenna Tillersen stood up and wiped the sweat from her brow, back aching from stooping down at her age. As a [Water Witch] she had never gone adventuring, spending her years helping the villages in the southern region of Weldtir. Between finding water, drawing it up, and a spat of healing skills, she always had worthwhile work to do. She even helped with delivering babies from time to time. All those things, together with the fact that she never really felt the urge to fight, had yielded a life filled mostly with peace and comfort until the Deskren came. She’d certainly never thought she’d be running from a war, let alone actually fighting in one. Yet here she was, another page turned in her Story as she did her part in the preparations for unleashing destruction on a scale that turned her stomach.
“That’s the last section, Miss Erin,” she said, turning to glance at the Worldwalker. “Davin and the others have set the Earthbreaker Runes, and when they go off, my magic will freeze the water that seeps in.”
The General’s Wife looked out over the levee that held back the River Weldt, a weary expression on her face. Jenna and every other able body with a speck of magical talent that could be spared had been sent, and even then the [Hand of Solace] had been obliged to refresh their magical reserves in order to engrave so many hundreds of runes across the base of the levee. She led them back to high ground, then turned to face them.
“Now we wait for the signal.”
“It won’t matter,” said a smooth and shadowy voice. A man on horseback melted out of the treeline, flanked by dozens of Luparan Gendarmes. From the distant encampment, thunder rolled across the shallow valley, where storm clouds had darkened a section of the horizon to near pitch blackness. The man spoke again as lightning flashed from within. “Whatever his game was, it ends here.”
“You’re free to think that,” said the Worldwalker, raising her hand to stop Jenna and the other mages from readying their magic. She could feel Erin’s mana rise to the surface, but only in a small current, too weak for her to discern her intent, beyond that it was Life magic.
“I’m Excruciator Selunj,” rasped the thin man with the harsh face. “I’m going to break you personally, then share you with my Gendarmes. Once you have learned true obedience, I’ll send you after your own husband. If he survives the battle.” He laughed, a dark, cruel sound.
Erin’s face didn’t even flicker at the man’s pronouncement, even delivered as it was with all the certainty of the headsman’s ax. “Hm. It’s lucky for you then, that I am far more merciful than he.”
Suddenly, Selunj made a choking noise. Jenna gasped as the [Hand of Solace]’s magic flared and she ripped the life out of almost a hundred foes at once without changing expression. Blood poured from the Gendarmes’ snouts, and as one, they collapsed, weapons thumping to the dirt after falling from nerveless hands. There, on the ground, the bodies looked almost pristine and untouched, save for the reddened ground beneath them.
“Wha-” gasped the Deskren overseer, before sliding off his horse with blood pouring from his nose and down his face.
“The human body -- any living body, really -- is an amazing thing,” said Erin Ward, lowering her hand as the Excruciator gasped his last breath. “We can survive terrible trauma, lose an entire limb and recover, or we can die from something as simple as a nosebleed, if it’s bad enough.”
“You call that merciful?” asked Jenna, as a bright light rose over the distant trees, a flare to illuminate the countryside for miles.
“Indeed it was merciful. Had Jacob heard what he said, the man would have been days in the dying. Ask my husband about Vlad Tepes sometime when he isn’t busy.” The Worldwalker looked up at the signal flare with a smile, then turned and, with a pulse of power, activated the runes on the levee.
“Vlad Tepes? Is that a place? Or a name?” the [Water Witch] responded as magic surged and the bottom of the levee began to crack apart, flash-frozen water ruthlessly widening the gaps opened by the earth magic.
A new thunder rose. The ground beneath their feet began to tremble, with larger chunks of stone tumbling down, pushed out from the wall by the incomprehensible pressures locked behind them. The runes did their work, and as the entire structure gave way to unleash a wall of water over ten feet high and almost a mile wide, the Worldwalker smiled.
“He was a man. A much kinder one than Jacob, should he ever find reason to be truly angry.”
========================================
Millie Thatcher beat her drum with all her might, heart pounding with fear-tinged exhilaration. This was a new kind of fear, however: before, she would have huddled in the wagons and only fought when bandits tried to climb inside. Now this fear galvanized her, steadying her mind and arm as she called down thunderbolts with every strike.
The first line of sharpened pikes in the ground had merely slowed the Gendarmes, and they had learned quickly that it was the girl on the wagon calling down the lightning instead of mages in the back lines. The Battlemaster had swung around with a dozen Lancers and trampled one group of wolf-men who had broken through and charged her position. The reprieve was brief, for a massive Panthren Lion had taken a small number of beastkin lucky enough to survive the initial assault right through their lines. The lion-man roared, pushing her storm back long enough for the wolves to close.
Their advance met its end at the head of old man Hett’s axe, the man cackling with sadistic glee as the broad, cruelly sharp blade flashed down, splitting one wolf from helm to groin. The mules, eager to prove themselves, pulled their weight, bucking the Gendarmes away. With an equine scream of rage, one even took hold of an unfortunate Gendarme by the shoulder, shaking it like a bulldog would a rabbit, its strained howls tapering off to squeals and barely-audible whimpers as it died.
One Gendarme rose over the side of the wagon, finding his feet before advancing on her, a triumphant gleam in his eye as he raised his weapon. Without thinking or even missing a beat, Millie struck her drum and, on the backstroke, lashed out to strike the oncoming foe’s chestplate. At the moment of contact, Millie felt her Mana reserves drain precipitously, but she certainly couldn’t argue with the effect: immediately, the wolfman seemed to liquefy, blowing out the gaps in his chestplate. A pair of armored legs toppled away from the wagon, joined by his very messy upper half.
She actually did miss a beat after that, unprepared for the awe-inspiring nature of her attack and its disgusting results. After the wolf’s remains fell to the ground, she felt something new:
You have gained the Skill [Battle Beats]! Shock and awe, and force unrelenting! Devastate your enemies with solid waves of sound itself!
Still somewhat shaken, she glanced down at Hett, still laughing as he corralled his mules. Smiling, the [Battle-Bard] started playing again as the brassy note of Deskren war horns sounded the charge of the Hoplite reserves. The captain of the Gendarmes, seeing his troops fail, roared once more and charged the wagon.
His charge met its end at the tip of the Battlemaster’s lance. After his earlier sally, he had picked up a lance from somewhere and circled back on the wagon, the blackened, blunted end making devastating contact with the panthren’s chestplate. The lance shattered under the force, and both the captain and Battlemaster fell away. Suddenly absent its rider, his charger committed itself to the fray as Jacob rose to his feet. Millie redoubled her efforts, fighting down a sudden wave of panic: his sword was still attached to his saddle, now a world away.
The lion-man stalked forward. One armored foot lashed out, and Millie’s heart stopped as abruptly as that foot did: Jacob’s steel-clad hand had clamped itself around the warrior’s shin, crushing the armor into his leg with a sickening crunch.
There the Battlemaster stood, steady as a mountain in the face of the enemy. “Mister Hett!” he called. “They’ve committed their reserves; the signal, if you would!”
As Hett reached into his coat to withdraw a small rune-covered rod, the Deskren captain roared again, this time in surprise and panic as the Battlemaster heaved, his face twisting as the captain rose into the air, then smashed back to the ground, crushing a Luparan soldier under his weight. Hett pointed the rod to the sky, and with a pulse of magic, a ball of light shot upward, through and past the storm clouds to detonate in a brilliant false dawn, chasing away the shadows and casting the Battlemaster in terrible relief.
He strode for the front lines, where the fighting was the thickest, dragging his impromptu hammer behind him, still protesting his treatment. “Soldiers!” he roared, and now he did sound angry. Watching from the comparative safety of the wagon, Millie thought it was an even more terrifying prospect than the entire battle up to this point had been.
“I said!” He swung the lion again, in a vicious horizontal arc, sending three Gendarmes tumbling away.
“We hold!” Raising his foe to the sky, the Battlemaster broke the captain's shoulder against another knot of Deskren.
“This line!”
Thus did the Battlemaster stand among his troops, beating the enemy to death with their own commander.
===================================
Calvin watched through his spyglass, disbelief playing across his face. Captain Golthen had almost closed with the bard on the wagon, only for his entire elite unit save himself to be wiped out -- the last falling to the one-armed bard. The thought was barely credible -- but not, he forced himself to admit, outside the realm of possibility. His forces had been chasing and harrying the refugee caravan for months, and just as his own army gained levels and experience, it was inevitable that survivors among the enemy would grow stronger as well.
It would not be enough, though. Even with the drummer calling thunderbolts from the sky, numbers would drag them down in the end. It would be a costlier battle than even his most pessimistic estimates, but even with his losses, the Gendarmes still outnumbered the defenders over three to one. He nodded to a messenger, and the signal went up to commit the Hoplites, shifting those numbers even more in his favor. He raised the spyglass once again as a bright flare of light lit the battlefield.
The Hoplite reserves charged into the fray. The Gendarmes had pushed up the slope and broken through the defenders’ ranks, and there were now gaps in the enemy lines. Their grim banner still stood, looming ominously over the one-armed form playing the drum from the back of the wagon. Golthen, standing alone after the old man and his mules savaged his force, rushed the wagon, his furious roar carrying above the din of battle. Calvin swung his spyglass down to observe the Hoplites’ advance before returning his focus to Golthen and the bard.
Where he had felt disbelief before, now abject shock held him frozen. The enemy commander was no longer on horseback. Instead the man, clad in mismatched heavy armor, stood shrouded in power as he swung Golthen like a sack of potatoes. Holding onto the Captain’s leg, the Battlemaster lay about with enraged abandon. Where he struck with his makeshift weapon, Gendarmes were broken and smashed, and his Soldiers fought with similar fervor, spurred by their leader’s example.
The thunder seemed to intensify, the bard on the wagon wreathed in more and more dread lightning gifted from the sky itself. Bolts of it began to rain down among his soldiers, and even the iron resolve of the enslaved-from-birth Gendarmes began to waver. It took Calvin several heartbeats to realize not all the thunder came from the storm. His horse stumbled as the ground began to shake.
Earthquake? No, a storm-bard doesn’t have that power…
Then the thunder rose to a roaring crescendo, a continuous rushing sound, and Calvin realized it wasn’t coming from the sky or the ground, but rather from the trees to the north. The bard-summoned storm above made it hard to see, but the flashes of lightning illuminated the swaying of the taller trees just before many of them began to fall.
Calvin Descroix had just enough time to activate his enchanted shield pendant before the wall of water arrived, tumbling boulders and trees and mud ahead of itself.
=========================================
Millie Thatcher leaned against the side-boards of Hett’s wagon, too exhausted to even turn and unstrap her drum to find a place to sit. She looked out over what remained of the battlefield, nose numbed to the stink. Instead of a broad flattened valley, all she could see below the sloping rise was a frothing muddy lake. Over ten thousand Deskren had been washed away in one fell swoop, and her faith that the Battlemaster had a plan was vindicated though she had no words to give voice to that satisfaction. Hett had actually fallen asleep on the front bench of his own wagon after the battle finally ended. A rooster stood beside him, obviously having gotten loose during the battle. It clucked its annoyance at the noise Hett made, and was pecking him to no avail. Millie giggled at the display, the most sound she was capable of making.
The Battlemaster had allowed the Soldiers no rest after the battle ended. The Luparan Gendarmes had stopped fighting once their masters were gone, and simply knelt on the field to await their fate. She found the sight disturbing at first, as troops still caught in the battle fury had kept killing their now-defenseless foes until the General had ordered them to desist. Instead, the surviving Deskren -- a few hundred Hoplites and nearly a thousand wolf-men -- had been corralled in ranks on the rise some distance apart from the refugee wagons. Disarmed and docile, they awaited the Worldwalker’s judgement.
“Who speaks for you?” he asked from the back of his horse.
Hett sat up, suddenly awake, and answered. “Iffen the overseers were washed away, none do. They’ll sit like that til they die iffen ye don’t feed ‘em.”
“Overseers?” asked Jacob.
“Holds the leashes. They use the kill command when they’ve lost. Seems they must all be gone now, or these’uns’d all be dead already.” The old man’s drawling accent was difficult for Millie to grasp sometimes, but she understood the gist of it. Without their masters the Deskren slaves had no idea what to do.
The Battlemaster paced his horse along the line of kneeling Deskren, his face grim and thoughtful. He ordered soldiers through the lines with tools, cutting the black collars from around the prisoners’ necks. Finally, one of the older Luparan mustered enough courage to speak, after the collar fell away.
“There is nothing for us now. The Empire holds our kin,” he growled. “And our northern brethren would never take us in. We have never known the ways of the Tribes.”
"I cannot promise to free your kin," he began, as his gaze settled on the self-appointed spokesman. "But if it's in my power, I will make it happen."
“All we know is battle,” said another wolfkin, this one with a softer voice. Millie was sure it was a woman even though her form was every bit as large and muscled as the others. “Kill us or command us, we are as the dead either way.” The voice was bitter and mournful. “Our children are already the same as dead, left in the Empire’s lands.”
“You would serve, even alongside those who were just killing you?” The Battlemaster’s tone held no judgment, only curiosity.
“In peacetime, the Emperor pits us against each other in battles to the death as spectacle, even against our own families and children. How would fighting alongside these soldiers be worse?” growled the male again.
Jacob nodded at that remark. “I see. The Empire keeps weighing down the scales of judgment with every fact I learn about them.” His horse pranced in place with a snort. “I’ll force no-one to swear to the banner. I’m marching these civilian refugees to Possibility to take shelter in the City of Prophets. Then I intend to destroy your old empire. If you march with me you may die.” He let his mount pace slowly in front of the line of kneeling soldiers.
“All I can promise is that, if you die under my banner, it will be to accomplish the mission, and not on the whims of some worthless crown.” He stopped to let his gaze pass across the entire line. “Those who don’t swear to the banner? I won’t kill you, but you’ll be left here without weapons, and we’re taking the food. The choice is yours.”
There was no hesitation, merely the span of a single heartbeat for the wolfmen to understand what the Worldwalker offered. One howl ripped forth from nearly a thousand throats, and in it, Millie heard the death of an Empire.
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 36: Thunder and Mud",
"author": "a_man_in_black",
"chapters": 51,
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"genre": [
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"tags": [
"Accelerated Growth",
"Adventurers",
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"Beautiful Female Lead",
"Blacksmith",
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|
Morgan Mackenzie sat upon a magically raised earthen seat, happily chewing perfectly parboiled [Shardback Shellipede] and wishing she had some cocktail sauce from Earth.
“This tastes better than lobster, Lulu,” she said as she licked her fingers. “If I had hot butter we’d really be on a roll. Oh! Dinner rolls… Really miss those now.”
The previous evening’s rains had continued into night, and after cooking her assailant in a giant makeshift crab pot she had simply built a new and bigger stone house to camp in. [Terrakinesis] made moving the dirt itself almost trivial. The biggest difficulty now was in holding the shape of what she wanted in her head long enough for the Earth Mana to guide the material into place.
Within her range -- easily over a hundred feet by her rough estimation -- the effort of moving the dirt itself was almost negligible below a certain critical mass. Beyond that range things became much more difficult, the difference between lifting a weight close to her body or with her arm extended.
She could not rip up literal tons of earth and rocks and throw them about, but it came close. Morgan felt pretty confident that, if she were willing to risk another bout of debilitating illness, she could burn her Mana all at once with [Spell Surge] and cause a localized earthquake.
“Not that I want to shake the earth right now, but it’s cool that I can,” she mused out loud.
After finishing off several small strips of lobster-like flesh, she turned back to the corpse of the giant shellipede. One thing she definitely wanted to study were the Mana Crystals growing along the edges of its shell segments, its mandibles and the tips of its many legs. To her [Mana Sight] the night before, it definitely seemed as if the shield the monster had projected came from the crystals that grew out of it.
“Even if I can’t figure out that kind of shield right now, maybe I can activate it…”
It turned out her instincts were correct in this instance. Upon closer inspection, her enhanced vision revealed a pattern of odd swirls, repeating themselves throughout the edges of the crystals. The pattern was denser and finer along the ridges that circled the creature’s broad and armored head. It seemed to continue down along the edges of those fearsome mandibles as well.
After tracing the swirls with both finger and mind, Morgan let out a low, impressed whistle. “This thing looks like it was born to counter magical attacks, Lulu.”
The scrubby puffball was busy wurbling its way along the inside of one of the shellipede’s segmented armor sections. Its ministrations let the chitin’s natural iridescence shine through where the viscera had been obscuring it. Lulu purbled briefly in protest as its mistress pulled it away from its current task, but happily continued cleaning once she placed it on another segment.
Taking the shell in her hands, she inspected it more closely, now that the last traces of meat and greasy tissue had been exfoliated from its curved inner side. She could feel the faint lingering traces of the creature’s Mana within the crystalline structure, interwoven through the organic chitinous material. The magically reflective properties of the enchantment seemed to be projected outwards by the denser layers of crystal on the edges of the shell.
Carefully, and with an extremely light touch of Mana so as to not trigger some drastic or destructive effect, Morgan supplied a bit of magic to the runic patterns of the shell. The result was a brief manifestation of the same rippling shield just an inch or so offset from the surface of the shell section.
It was not one single piece either. Her own Mana was powering the portion of the shield closest to where her fingertips made contact with the curved shell,, and the barrier was reflected on the other side in overlapping parts like a snake’s scales.
“Ah,” she exhaled. “So it’s not one contiguous shield enchantment. It’s actually interlocking segments of armor like its shell, but for magic instead of normal attacks.”
Morgan raised the segment of shell ahead of her as she spoke, holding it in both hands. Her grip spasmed then, weakening, shell slipping from suddenly-nerveless fingers. “Damn,” she cursed. “What hap--”
Realization struck like a bolt of lightning -- she had run afoul of her [Skyclad] nature! “Figures,” she muttered. It seemed inspecting the shell section was one thing, but trying to use it was another entirely. Turning back to the uneaten head of the beast, she looked down at the almost-solid crystal mandibles.
“There’s gotta be a way I can power this up without holding it.”
Dropping the segment of shell, she pulled the head upwards from the carcass by one hardened jaw-crystal. Its appearance lent itself most readily to the pincers of some large beetle; despite her misgivings, her [Primal Instinct] lay quiet.
The crystal was not as dense as the ones she had encountered before climbing the cliffs and encountering Moghren. It also did not pull at her Mana so hungrily. Instead, it hummed with anticipation, as if it were waiting for...something. This feeling was confirmed as she tried to push some of her own magic into the crystal. The other crystals had drained her Mana on their own, while the lighter-hued mandible simply allowed her to pour it into the glassy structure at her own pace.
As her magic filled the crystal, the mandible began to glow with a familiar violet light. That’s my color of fire, she thought, then continued out loud. “I wonder if other people have different colors to their magic. Moghren gave off shadows, my fire is purple…”
Her [Crystal Affinity] did not give her the ability to shape the structure like her Earth skills did with dirt and stone, but she could sense the grain of the mineral formation, and the area under the greatest strain. Bracing one foot on the outside of the mandible, she pushed more of her Mana into the microscopic cracks at the base of the shard and pulled up while twisting it in her hands.
A glassy creaking followed by a sharp crackling sound heralded the crystal jawbone coming free and sent Morgan stumbling backwards, out of her new shelter. She stumbled a few steps before catching her balance, and gazed down at her prize.
Jagged teeth of pale pink and milky white crystal glimmered in the morning sun, the mandible easily two feet long and as wide as Morgan’s hand. The outer side of the curving piece was formed of smooth facets with irregular outlines, curving around to narrow into a serrated inner edge and a wickedly sharp tip.
She turned it from side to side in the light, looking closely at the cracks that had spread from the broken base up into the rest of the piece of crystal. Her [Crystal Affinity] allowed her to sense how the flaws had propagated through the mineral structure with a detail and certainty that would make any geologist or gemcutter jealous.
“I didn’t have [Earth Sculpt] the first time I molded dirt with magic either.”
Concentrating on the cracks running through the mandible, Morgan slowly poured her Mana into the crystal. “Still too fast,” she murmured to herself as a tinkling sound emanated from the glassy chunk when the flaws began to expand. Slowing down the flow of magic to the barest trickle she could control, she could feel the substance begin to warm up and shift in her hands. It vibrated with an uncomfortable buzzing, as if it were about to fly apart; a thrumming she could feel in her hands that increased whenever the magic flowed too fast or too slow.
With strange stuttering crackles, the flaws in the crystal began to mend. She could feel the stresses fading away in the undamaged parts of the jaw as the fractures closed back up along the grain of the material. And as the last of the shattered lines melded back together, she gained another skill.
You have learned the spell [Gem Sculpt]! Understanding the mineral structure of crystals has allowed you to guide their formation and alteration!
Morgan felt a sense of smug satisfaction when she read that notice; soon afterward, she felt the strain of manipulating the crystal ease somewhat. Now she could levitate it above her hands, although any distance over a few inches became increasingly more difficult. As with Earth magics, all that remained was practice and time to level the skill and the related affinity.
Turning back to the dropped shell segment, Morgan crouched and stabbed the mandible into the ground using her magic. Molding the soil around it to secure it in place was a casual afterthought with [Terrakinesis].
She spent almost a third of her Mana, pouring it into the crystal until it glowed with a bright pink light that cast glimmering shapes onto the ground and surrounding trees around her. Then she lay the shell segment against the upright mandible and stepped back in expectation.
Nothing happened.
“Well that was disappointing, Lulu,” she said to the puffball as it wurbled its way over to investigate the latest activities of its mistress. “But I shouldn’t be surprised it’s not that simple…”
The crystal held plenty of Mana to power the shell’s enchantment, it simply needed something more than proximity or touch to activate it. Reaching out with just her raw Mana to both items at the same time merely gave her a headache that left her sitting inside with her head between her knees for at least an hour while she recovered.
Getting back to her feet, she reached out to the Mana she had stored within the crystal. Her own supply had long since recovered, but the magical energy within the mandible still resonated with familiarity. It had not changed in any way. She could add more to it, and then pull it back to smoothly replenish what she was lacking. It was while she was playing with this new information that she realized that, as the crystal contained Mana that matched her own, it was possible to feel and manipulate it as though it were a sort of extension to her magical body..
With a new idea to test out, Morgan reached out to the shell segment with Mana. Not the Mana within her own body, however. She reached through the mandible, using the magical energy stored within it to activate the shield enchantment.
You have learned the Spell [Mana Link]! Link multiple enchantments or sources of Mana together, allowing for magic to flow between them!
“Booya!” exclaimed Morgan. “Now if I can test the shield, I can learn to copy it!”
The faint ripples of the shield hovered a few inches above the surface of the shell's ridges, its power linked to the crystal battery. The concentric patterns grown into the edges of the armored material pulsed gently, the overlapping hexagons just barely visible as disturbances in the air
Grinning, Morgan took two steps back and cast the weakest [Lightning Bolt] she could manage at the shield, staring intently with [Mana Sight]. The crackling bolt zipped out from her finger to hit the shield, causing it to flare up in corsuscating ripples as her spell was reflected back at a close angle. The returning pellet of lightning left the scent of ozone lingering in the air as it streaked past, scant feet from her head, eliciting a startled oath from the young sorceress.
The manifestation of the magic was only visible at full power for the briefest of moments at impact, and she spent over a dozen casts and a break to refill the mandible-turned-mana-battery before she felt she had learned enough to figure out how the shield worked.
After refilling the crystal once again, she took a few more steps back, and moved a pace to her left. This time the bolt came straight back at her, and even with the new knowledge she did not manage to get the shield formed in time to block. Her own [Lightning Bolt] struck her right in the mid-riff, doubling her over and blistering the skin just above her navel.
After taking a moment to heal, she tried again. This time she held the makeshift shield spell ready around her left hand as she cast the bolt with her right. She took several more jolts from her own reflected spells before she managed to nail down the timing, but her perseverance was rewarded on the eighth attempt.
You have learned the spell [Spell Parry]! Deflect or redirect incoming magical effects!
“Yes!” Morgan twirled in place and pumped her fist in the air as Lulu wurbled in frustration, trying to clean the soot and burned skin left over from its mistress’ repeated healing after each bolt. “Now I have somethin’ to work with!”
Without an anchoring substance to form a defensive enchantment, her own manifestation of the spell was only as coherent as her focus. A central hexagon of Mana, Lightning, Fire, and Air Elements mixed together, formed the center of the shield, and more hexagons spiraled out from the center in slightly overlapping layers. Each layer required more of her Mana and mental effort to maintain, and as the strain on her mind increased the edges of the polygonal shapes began to ripple and deteriorate.
One single hexagonal shield section seemed extremely strong, but only covered an area about the size of her palm. “So if I add more plate sections around it, the shield gets bigger, but weaker…”
She added one ring of shields around the center. Then a second, and then a third; she kept adding layers until the shield threatened to collapse under its own weight.
“Seven seems to be my sweet spot…”
She walked back over to the boiled remains of the shellipede and broke for lunch, practicing with [Spell Parry]. The shield was definitely not something she could use for constant heavy blocking, and the name was appropriate. It formed most solidly right in the first moments of its creation, and every second it existed drained more and more of her Mana.
“So, I can parry spell attacks now, Lulu.” she told her ruffled companion. “But I also wanna figure out a permanent defensive enchantment I can set up, like that thing’s shield.” She tore a handful of meat off the shellipede corpse after reheating it with a touch of fire magic.
“That can wait til tonight though; we need to get moving,” she said around mouthfuls as she chewed vigorously, eager to pad her calories in case of emergencies.
Remembering something she had seen during her class selection dream, Morgan plucked several large leaves from a low-hanging branch. They were broad and reminiscent of oak leaves, and she was careful to merely hold them as she was wary of triggering her equipment rejection.
Placing the leaves on the ground, she tore several smaller chunks of the meat from the monster, and placed them on the leaves. She had no string, but wrapping millimeter-thin threads of earth around the leaves to hold her food was a simple matter with [Terrakinesis]. Picking up the three parcels, she placed them in her spatial storage rune. She wrapped up three more, and only two would fit for a total of five.
Thinking she could rearrange them and possibly fit the last one, Morgan emptied the spatial pocket. When the last leaf-wrapped chunk of meat reappeared, [Runic Belt] gained a level and she was hit with the corresponding notification. On the front of her left hip she felt a warm tingle as a new storage rune appeared opposite the first.
“Well that’s handy,” she said while rearranging her leaf-wrapped pack lunches. She returned to the crystalline mandible she had been using as a mana-battery. While she had a feeling it would not fit into her storage as it was now shaped, that didn’t mean it had to stay in its current form.
Pulling the faceted jawbone up from the ground, she used [Gem Sculpt] to slowly condense its form. That kind of practice did not even slow her down as she resumed her westward trek just as the sun peaked overhead through the forest canopy. With Lulu purbling happily on her shoulder once again, she set her pace with an easy loping jog while keeping the shifting lump of crystal hovering above one hand or the other as she traveled.
Morgan was learning the forest now, more out of sheer necessity than by any genuine desire. It was no longer the terrifyingly impossible visage of doom she had once seen it as, but that certainly did not mean it was safe. She relied heavily on her [Primal Instinct] to guide her feet around areas that felt more dangerous than others: shadows that darkened the ground more noticeably than others, depressions in the mossy floor that carried the impression of hungry mouths, and formations of stones or upraised hillocks that seemed eager to pull her down. With the aid of her instincts, she avoided these pitfalls with an almost prescient ease, padding through the forest in near silence. Occasionally, she would [Fade Presence] in response to a silent warning, slinking around more organic threats that might otherwise seek to end her.
Threats were not the only things that stood out, though. She could hear various animal calls in the distance; the coos of some large type of bird conveying thoughts of supper, and the odd clump of brush or thicker section of boughs in the canopy seemed like good nesting places for wild critters should she need to flush something out. Small bushes or green plants stood out with faint outlines that seemed to indicate they’d be at least somewhat edible, even if she didn’t think they would be particularly tasty. She even snagged a few of the familiar berries as she went past, a welcome treat of sweetness to contrast the greasy-rich calorie lump that was her usual fare from consuming defeated foes.
So it was that, as Morgan travelled, she kept her eyes and ears open for danger and for useful or tasty things. All the while, she absentmindedly worked the crystal mandible from the shellipede. First she smoothed back the serrated inner edge, pulling the ridged sawtooth formations back into the main jawbone trunk while straightening the overall shape.
Crystal did not flow as fast as Earth did by any measure, but she felt like it almost wanted to be a straighter, purer and simpler crystalline pattern. With each repaired imperfection, as the crystal returned to its natural form, the amount of Mana the crystal could hold increased.
Her footsteps devoured miles and hours, and by the time the sun had slunk down towards the distant horizon, she had worked what had once been a mandible down into a rough crystal spar. It was now a six-sided column, or roughly so, with rougher ends and formations of smaller crystals at the base and the former claw-like tip. Now less than two feet long, it was as wide as her calf muscle. It held nearly twice as much Mana as when she started, the uniform interior allowing for a much greater density as she packed her magical energy into it. The day’s efforts had yielded two more levels for [Gem Sculpt] and even one for [Crystal Affinity].
Feeling proud of herself, she placed the crystal into her second storage rune and felt her connection to the Mana within it simply vanish. “Looks like I can’t use it as an internal Mana Battery, Lulu,” she said as she petted her poofy friend. The scrubby gave a sleepy wurble, seemingly lulled to sleep by Morgan’s rhythmic jogging through the late evening.
She had no need to slow her pace yet -- [Mana Sight] helped to compensate for the fading light and lengthening shadow -- but there was no need to risk night predators, either. So she reduced her speed to a brisk walk, keeping her eye out for water and a good place to build another stone-house campsite.
Within another mile, and just after dusk had given way to actual night with the twin moons rising in the distant east, she had found a small stream and a nearby copse of smaller trees. After a drink, she set about finding a good place to fortify for the night.
The stream cut its way through several hills and trees, and she followed it to a small gap between two raised sections of earth. A natural deadfall of tumbled rocks made an uneven path alongside the water, leading into a small gully that opened up into a larger depression.
As Morgan hopped down from the last flattened section of rock, she realized her mistake. [Primal Instinct] screamed in her mind, panic building to a fever pitch -- but it pointed at no specific danger, no incoming threat to run away from. The shadowy depression had seemed like a good place to build herself a shelter, and now she knew it was anything but.
The small ravine only looked small from the outside. Now that she was within its walls she could clearly see that it was far larger. Trees had become twisted, looming overhead, vines and leaves forming natural walls lending to a maze-like pattern. Not exactly eager to deal with the danger as her senses continued to impress the feeling of menace upon her -- that of this entire ravine seeking her life -- she turned to exit this place via the same rock-fall.
And it was gone, all that remained was a tumbled section of boulders and loose scree that did not look as if she or anything else could have traversed its treacherous terrain. Panic rose yet higher, but she stood her ground, drawing on her [Terrakinesis] and trying to shift the stone to secure a safe path to climb out.
“Shit.”
The earth around her refused her Mana. As she tried to push it into and underneath the stone and rubble, tried to lift and move it, something pushed back, as if another will had infused the area with its own Mana that kept hers out. All she could manage was to shift a few pebbles and levitate a few handfuls of loose dirt.
Her instincts finally pointing to something behind her, Morgan turned around, primed to unleash flame and lightning and ice. The trees muffled the rustling sound at first, and then suddenly an oversized deer-like creature burst through one of the vine-laced walls just inside the maze, eyes rolling in sheer terror. It looked around wildly before trying to stumble away. But instead of forward, its trembling legs carried it sideways while it wheezed and snorted in confusion. As it fetched up against a short tree with large blooms on low-hanging branches, one of the flowers suddenly snapped down and closed around the top half of the deer.
The flower heaved back, a sickeningly wet crunch accompanying a violent shudder, the deer's exposed legs seeming to leap up for the briefest of moments before going still. The bloom pulled away from the once-living creature, leaving the legs standing in place, surrounded by a pile of viscera and bloodied, tattered fur. The scent of the animal's blood and organs permeated the air, and it was all Morgan could do to not lose what she had eaten as her instincts redoubled their harpy-like shrieking.
The various calls, the rustling of the underbrush, and the pulse of life from the very forest itself spread around her, circling her, promising her end.
“Shit,” she gasped again, wide eyes turning to her puffy companion, who was now wide awake. “I think we’re in a dungeon.”
|
{
"subset": "scribblehub",
"lang": "en",
"series": "8898",
"id": "8928",
"q": 0.9454545454545454,
"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 19: Experimentation",
"author": "a_man_in_black",
"chapters": 51,
"rating": 4.7,
"rating_ct": 120,
"genre": [
"Action",
"Adventure",
"Drama",
"Fantasy",
"LitRPG",
"Mature",
"Mecha",
"Sci-fi"
],
"tags": [
"Accelerated Growth",
"Adventurers",
"Alternate World",
"Beautiful Female Lead",
"Blacksmith",
"Character Growth",
"Divination",
"Dungeons",
"Game Elements"
]
}
|
Morgan Mackenzie crouched atop the corpse of a [Rockmaw], carefully applying touches of superheated flame with her fingertips. The last tendrils of flesh and gristle had finally been seared away, allowing her to pry up the large chunk of Mana Crystal that had once protected the neck and upper back of the beast. With its connection to the remnants of the dead beast’s Mana removed, her own Mana was able to take over the massive glass-like plate. Standing back up, she levitated her prize up and away from the defeated [Rockmaw]. Surveying her path downward, she leapt from its back to a part of its hindquarters that wasn’t overly viscera-slickened, then down to the snow-covered ground. She turned and looked back over her erstwhile foe.
Jaws wide enough she could step through their death-gaped arch. A burned and blistered tongue, studded with stones and slick with blood muddied by charred ashes, protruded from the mouth, larger than one of her legs and several times as long. She shuddered; the [Rockmaw] had managed to snare her leg with that long, slimy tongue, and thought it had earned itself a meal before Morgan’s [Runic Chain]-enhanced [Plasma Glaive] sent its own tongue of destruction down its gullet. Superheated tissue and fluids left in its wake had overpressurized the creature, causing its flesh to rupture in a fairly impressive display of red steam and broiled meat, a good portion of which found its exit back through the thing’s mouth. Morgan had once again found herself covered in ick, a distressingly frequent happening that, even now, she hated every bit as much as the first time.
Morgan let the fire within her come to the surface for a few moments, the blood and gore blackening to flakes of ash that blew away in the glacial mountain winds that constantly scoured the landscape. During her early travels in the Wildlands, she had kept to the lower valleys and forested lowlands. The constant sweltering heat of high summer had finally driven her to higher elevations; not because of the temperature, but rather because Wildlands summers were punishingly humid. I like a sauna as much as the next girl, she thought. But not enough to live in one all the time.
So, Morgan had headed west for higher ground. The mountains had proven to be further away than she originally estimated, but she persevered. And what she had found once she climbed and climbed to crest the first mountain ridge after finally reaching it was…
More mountains.
The creatures had grown progressively stronger and more powerful the deeper she travelled into the highlands. Rams that reminded her of bighorn sheep, but the size of a small car, with plated skulls and two pairs of vicious, twisted horns. Enormous bears with ridged skulls and shovel-like claws. Her sole fight so far with one of the latter had ended in a stalemate: the beast dug its way away from her flames, while she hopped off to regenerate an impromptu below-the-knee amputation. She had also crossed the territories of two more packs of [Direwolves], but without a guardian like the Packmother, she had simply whittled them down through attrition until they left her alone.
Her [Frost Resistance] had built up quickly, the nights at higher elevation dipping close to freezing long before she actually came near the snow line. She still enjoyed a hot bath with her loofah companion every handful of days, taking the opportunity to build campsites that were more lavish than her usual accommodations. Such breaks inevitably ended in battle more and more often as she gained levels, though. Her working theory was that as she grew in power, she became more attractive in some way to the various denizens of the primordial landscape. She had gained a level every third or fourth day, it seemed, although after she had reached level thirty it had begun to slow down.
Every level brought more stats, more Intellect, more skills. The key to improving her [Soul Anchor] had turned out to be improving skills with enchantments. She layered more and more wards and defenses around her campsites every night, and practiced new ones whenever she rested. [Runic Core] joined the other markings burned into her skin, interlocking chevrons and triangles bracketing her navel and forming a diamond pattern out of what looked like Celtic knots but with sharp angles instead of rounded braids. The rune stretched from her sternum down to between her legs, and that particular experience had left her whimpering for several hours after it etched itself onto her body. It stored Mana and Stamina, similar to the Mana Well rings Moghren had shown her months before. With the rune currently at its fifth level, it effectively tripled her staying power in combat in all but the most extreme cases.
[Runic Reinforcement] had come next, and despite its invasiveness, had been significantly less painful. It made her flesh and bones stronger, enhancing her ability to take hits. The incoming attacks that made it past her [Spell Parry] and [Runic Armor] did far less damage to her body, and combined with her [Athleticism] she could sprint for hours without worry of the accompanying soreness. The tattoo that had come with the rune ran from the base of her tailbone where it joined with her [Runic Belt], all the way up her spine to blend with the scaled armor etched over her shoulders.
[Spell Resonance] was her latest Living Rune, and it gave her an extra sense for the magics around her. The tattoo presented itself as a gossamer-thin tracing of tiny swirls, only visible when the light reflected as she moved. On the palms of her hands and soles of her feet, it traced the patterns of her fingertips and toes like shiny henna art, and the practical effect was that she could feel magic at greater range and sensitivity: through the air, in water when she swam, and through the earth beneath her feet. If her Intellect had not been expanded many times over since her arrival at the Tree, it would have overwhelmed her mind.
It was thanks to this that Morgan wasn’t caught entirely flat-footed when her next battle found her. A gargantuan creature looking like nothing so much as an armored earthworm -- fittingly, a [Burrowspine Earthwyrm] -- erupted from the ground in a geyser of gravel and dirt where she had been standing scant moments before. She had sensed the Earth magic it used to travel beneath the ground, and tapped her [Acceleration] to clear the area just before a maw full of teeth and spines snapped shut around where she had been.
She turned and loosed a [Plasma Glaive] at it, the superheated mana splashing off of its chitinous armor and causing the air above to waver from its intensity. [Spell Resonance] further allowed her to feel the mana layered throughout its plating, providing more defense than she could quickly burn through.
Lulu, for her part, was undeterred; its boldness and bravery had only grown as it levelled alongside its mistress. Now a respectable level thirty-seven on its own, it had grown to the size of a volleyball, and its abilities had only grown more fearsome to match. No natural armor Morgan had yet faced could stand up to its [Exfoliate] skill, and Lulu seemed eager to show off again.
The scrubby launched itself at the new attacker, and Morgan kept the wyrm’s attention on her with showy blasts from her [Plasma Glaive]. Lulu quickly found -- or made -- a gap in its armor, and the monster went from lunging at the sorceress to contorting and snapping at itself in the span of a moment.
Earth and stone heaved, rising up like a living thing as the beast thrashed, and Morgan was obliged to tap her own [Terrakinesis] to counteract it. A few moments later, Lulu obviously hit something vital -- the worm heaved itself almost entirely out of its burrow in a single spasmodic movement, then shuddered, vomiting an unidentifiable rush of green and brown fluid, narrowly missing Morgan as she scrambled to safety. Already been covered in ick once today! Not again!
Lulu has spawned a brood!
“Hah! That’ll show it!” exclaimed the sorceress as her latest enemy coiled and shook in agonizing death throes. A rather proud Lulu burst back out from between two of the armored plates several paces closer to the head of the beast than the spot it had burrowed in. As the wyrm finally trembled one last time and lay still, the loofah seemed to preen a moment before hopping its way back to Morgan. “I guess your brood has plenty of food right here,” she told the scrubby, giving it an affectionate pat as it made its way back to her shoulder.
The [Rockmaw] and the wyrm had been the most recent of a menagerie of creatures that had objected to Morgan taking over the shallow valley, one which she now gazed down upon with no small bit of satisfaction. It was just about as ideal for making a permanent home as she could have imagined. High enough in elevation that the worst of the summer heat and humidity were lessened, but not so close to the great frozen peaks that she would have to worry. Her [Primal Instinct] made her very wary when she turned her gaze to the snow-capped mountaintops in the distance.
Snow flurries still dusted the valley, blowing down from the higher passes, and a lake fed by glacial streams shone in the midday glare of the sun overhead. That there were only a handful of gaps in the surrounding mountainsides meant she could more easily defend her nascent domain, and work towards a much needed place of safety and refuge to call her own. The passes also provided easy ways for her to descend to the lowlands to hunt and forage, although she planned to try her hand at cultivating some of the tastier kinds of plants she had found in her wanderings. Her Earth magic senses, amplified with [Spell Resonance], informed her that the ground was solid for miles in every direction, meaning she had no restriction on where she could build. The only exceptions were a handful of comparatively small tunnels, akin to the one the wyrm had dug, but Morgan could fill those if they became a problem.
With a happily wurbling loofah on her shoulder, Morgan began to make her way around the outer edges of the valley. The crystal piece she had taken from the [Rockmaw] floated along next to her, and she worked it with her [Gem Sculpt] as she went, flattening it down and repairing the cracks and battle damage before separating it out into fist-sized gemstones. Every thirty or forty paces she flattened a circular patch of dirt with [Terrakinesis], inscribing an enhanced [Mana Link] enchantment and one for [Spatial Reinforcement]. She seated one gemstone in the center of each patch, a brief pulse of purple light glowing for a moment to indicate the activation of the enchantments. A third of the way around the valley she ran out of crystals from the armor piece, and began to pull more of them out of her [Runic Belt] storage spaces.
Lesser creatures like [Murdersquirrels] and the like had not bothered her for weeks, and she grinned with wry satisfaction as she sensed those sorts of residents of the valley avoiding her presence. Just as her growing power attracted stronger foes, weaker creatures fearfully scurried away from her path. The [Nightstride Panther] continued to evade her senses despite her gains in levels and abilities. She had seen it from time to time, claiming the parts of her hunts she didn’t eat herself. The gigantic feline had not seemed fond of the cooler climate as she went further up the mountains, however. Morgan had last seen the cat heading north towards a lower region several days earlier, but was sure she would see it again when she left the high valley to look for food.
It took her the entire day to circle the valley, even when taking advantage of her [Acceleration] skills to shorten the trip. Over a hundred linked enchantment nodes stood out in her mind, expanding the reach of her [Terrakinesis] to a range she had never before attempted. It was very close to her limits for using multiple enchantments at once, and only possible thanks to her vastly improved Intellect.
“I have to set the foundation before I can really make anything worthwhile,” she said out loud to Lulu as she placed the purbling loofah on a nearby boulder. Slowly, she pushed her mana out through the linked crystals and their stabilized emplacements. At the same time she reached below her feet, letting the Mana creep out to gently take control of the stone and dirt. [Spell Resonance] fed her a constant stream of information. There were thick, ropey veins of quartz threaded throughout, with tiny seeds of mana crystals waiting to be grown; slabs of heavy granite that acted as mana sinks, unworkable until they had absorbed a certain amount of mana; and various layers of different rocks, clay, shale, and sand, all of which Morgan could sense in exacting detail.
Taking a few deep breaths to center herself, she withdrew the last Mana Crystals from within her spatial storage runes. An even dozen rods of perfectly formed violet crystal floated around her, each a spike three feet in length and barely wider than her wrist. The hexagonal spars tapered to needle-thin tips, and were the purest and densest forms of crystal she had yet created. Their perfectly flawless nature enhanced their ability to store mana, each one able to store easily triple the amount she could hold. They floated around her in a circle, and she could feel the gentle warmth they radiated even with her eyes closed against the brightness the energy within them gave off.
The first skill that Morgan had spent an Enhancement point on, before any others, had been [Spell Surge]. Others had come later, but that one had been the skill she chose to wait until mastery and test out. Her investment had paid significant dividends; the mastered skill had just about doubled the effective power she could wield. She had no way to make exact measurements, not for such things as how much fire she could make or how much earth she could move. The enhanced amplification of the skill turned her flames from a candle to a raging bonfire.
What it did to her [Terrakinesis], Morgan did not yet have words for.
Drawing on the stored Mana from all twelve floating crystals, and from her reserves in her [Runic Core], Morgan reached out through the many enchantment nodes she had ringed the valley with.
Then, she activated [Spell Surge].
With a rush of power that spread throughout the valley, washing over everyone and everything within its expanse and for leagues beyond, Morgan set about her work.
_______________________________________________
For the third morning in a row, Terisa Aras finished her patrol around the Expedition camps. For the third morning in a row, there was nothing to report. Harrying a dozen different disparate groups from a dozen different nations or tribal groups into one cohesive formation was never an easy task, not any year since she had begun leading the yearly trip into the wilds. Unlike previous years, this expedition had not been attacked on the first day; at least, not by anything strong enough to give trouble to the several hundred members of the group, each above level fifty. The lack of attention from the denizens of the region disturbed her for more reasons than one.
The current expedition had not yet been tested. Every year, new aspirants joined the expedition, and every year they failed to heed the warnings given by those more experienced with the wilds. Adventurers all, some even veterans of war; they joined the expedition when the pass cleared, and returned, humbled, with the first winter snows chasing their heels back over the pass. At least, if they survived. The Wildlands showed no mercy for those who engaged in hubris. Terisa did not worry overmuch about the veterans; they were survivors one and all. Rather, her concern lay with the relatively low-levelled Worldwalker. One person lacking experience and levels would have been bad enough, but the woman’s presence had attracted a bevy of attention from different sources both good and bad.
Several different nations and more than one guild consortium had sent envoys trying to coax Dana away from the dwarves of Thun’Kadrass. Their impressions must have been that she could be bought or otherwise bribed into selling otherworlder knowledge, the various polities acting as if she worked for the Thun out of some sense of obligation or debt. Terisa knew it to be far from the truth, having spent time around the Worldwalker. It was obvious to the huntress that Dana worked for Dana and nobody else, her bargains with the Thane of Thun’Kadrass notwithstanding. But the envoys could not be convinced, and tagged along with the expedition as it made its way into the wilds.
Normally -- if any expedition could be considered normal -- the presence of so many high-levelled classers and their accompanying gear and supplies, both magical and mundane, would have attracted several extremely powerful and high-levelled beasts by the first or second day. That, or a horde of smaller monsters stampeding to get out of the way of something larger. So far they had barely encountered enough monsters to feed themselves, something which was generally not a problem on the first day of any given year’s expedition.
Terisa made her way between two fortified encampments, following her nose towards her own tent next to the Worldwalker’s “mobile workshop,” as the otherworlder called the massive triple-carriage monstrosity on wheels that moved itself without a beast of burden to pull it. The huntress had seen wheeled golems before, but nothing on a scale approaching that of what the strange engineer had built.
The engineer -- if that was truly what Dana was; she hadn’t said, and Terisa was too polite to ask -- was only just rolling out of the hatch on the side of the rear-most section of her workshop, appearing to sit in a wheelchair. As the woman rolled towards the steps down from the elevated vehicle, the wheels smoothly changed shape, reconfiguring themselves into a set of legs in a display so smooth that Dana hardly missed a step.
“What is that totally awesome smell?!” asked the Worldwalker as she approached the same cookfire that Terisa had just stepped up to.
“Rockmaw strips and razorquail eggs,” replied the burly mass of hair and muscle standing over the fire. The voice was gravelly and rough, and the huge cook did not elaborate further. The words were practically growled, escaping from behind upper and lower canines, so long they barely avoided being called tusks, that protruded from his jaws -- evidence of his part-beastkin heritage. Several strips of meat and a half dozen eggs sizzled happily in a cast iron pan over five feet across, laid over a bed of coals. Dana backed up a half-step at the man’s grumpy tone, and looked as if she were about to say something confrontational herself.
“Don’t mind him, he’s always like this,” Terisa told the Worldwalker. “Foz doesn’t talk much, he just likes to cook. There’s kaffen too.” The huntress followed word with action, hooking a mug off the side of a pack sitting close to the fire and filling it from the kettle hanging over one side of the coals.
The Worldwalker copied the huntress, procuring a cup of her own from a compartment on her suit. Her suit shifted from two legs to four and the woman’s height dropped by over a foot as she leaned back as if sitting in a comfortable chair. “That’s even better than coffee from my world,” said Dana after taking a sip. “More kick, but it does remind me of the bitter brews we lived off of on deployment.”
Scouting type classers made their way between the campsites, some heading out for their watch while others returned. Terisa sipped her kaffen and enjoyed the quiet of the early morning for several minutes, until Foz began flipping meat onto a platter.
“Food,” grunted the giant of a man, setting the platter on top of a section of a log cut to usable height for a table. “Eat.” He glanced off towards the east, sniffing the air. “Fight today, probably.”
“I get that feeling, too,” agreed the huntress. “Only made it two days without a fight one time before, over ten years ago. Never seen an expedition make it three without being challenged by something big.”
“The rockmaw didn’t count?” blurted Dana. “I gained two levels from killing that thing, and Kojeg had already hacked one of its legs off!”
Terisa ignored the woman in favor of devouring several strips of seared meat from said [Rockmaw], daintily using her fingertips to avoid getting the juices on her enchanted tunic.
“Little rockmaw,” growled Foz in response. “Baby, almost. Good meat though.” He followed up his brief statement by devouring several strips of the meat in one bite, then grabbing another.
“We’ll get you some tyrannorabbits when we reach the lower plains, Foz.” The huntress turned to Dana. “He makes excellent rabbit stew.”
“You say ‘tyrannorabbits’ like I’m supposed to know what that is,” Dana complained. “You have no idea what kind of imagery that name brings me.”
“I’m sure you’ll still be surprised. And I hope you’re ready for a fight. I haven’t seen any signs of anything big yet, but I’ve learned to trust my instincts out here.”
“Always ready,” rumbled the oversized breakfast cook, sharpening a massive cleaver with a smooth stone while the two women ate in relative silence.
“So how does a cook end up with the expedition group?” asked Dana.
Terisa’s gaze snapped to the engineer, her jaw dropping open as she laughed. “Foz ain’t a cook! He’s a [Bloodaxe Berserker]!”
“Just like to cook!” the man rumbled with a grin. “Nobody told me no. Wife likes it too!”
“Yup,” continued Terisa. “He couldn’t cook a thing when I married him, but people aren’t stuck with just their class skills. Some take longer to learn, but nobody tells a level sixty berserker they can’t when the man tries his hand at it.”
Dana looked back and forth between Terisa and Foz, her expression cycling between shock, awe, and utter disbelief. “You,” she gaped like a fish out of water. “Him! He’s like eight feet tall! You’re barely past five foot! He--he’s five times your size!”
“I like big strong men, what can I say?”
The Worldwalker shook her head, chiding herself. “I didn’t realize, heh.”
Foz raised his head suddenly, sniffing at the air. Even with her higher levels, Terisa’s senses did not compare to those with beast heritage in their blood. The alarm was raised through the camp, the sounds of shouting breaking through the early morning, and the huntress knew that the Wildlands had finally decided to test the expedition’s mettle.
“Can you smell them?” she asked her husband, voice low and urgent.
“Many. Different. Rockmaw, Stonebear, Gamgarra.” His growled responses came as low rumbles, the berserker shrugging himself to his feet and shaking out his arms. “...They’re afraid,” he noted.
“What’s a Gamgarra?” asked Dana.
“It’s what the tribes call an elder wyvern,” said Terisa. “Like a drake, but without wings and even bigger. And something has this one afraid.”
“Not one,” growled Foz as the ground began to shake. “Many.”
Terisa was already pulling pouches out of her pack and clipping them to her gear, adding several enchanted quivers with storage enhancements to her not-insignificant arsenal. Althenea thrummed at her back, sensing the excitement and danger approaching.
“Do you need me to sound an alarm?” The Worldwalker’s suit had went back to its bipedal mode, but gems glowed at the woman’s hips and in the middle of the armor plated chest.
“Everyone knows already,” replied the huntress as spells began to explode to the east and south of the campsites. “If they’re spread out we can take them, probably.” The unmistakable thunder of dwarven cannon joined the cacophony of artillery spells.
Her Berserker husband interrupted with a resounding “No. Stampede.” He bent down to the wagon he shared with her, and stood back up holding two axes, the broad crescent blades almost as tall as Terisa herself. He held them as if they were cleavers in his ursine hands, and threw his head back and roared.
Anyone who had somehow managed to sleep through the shouts, spells, and cannonfire in the vicinity was rudely awakened by the resonating echoes of the sound. Foz’s roar carried a weight that was physical, dampening fires and shaking wagons and people both.
“Stay alive!” she ordered, watching the woman’s chair reconfigure again as she hurriedly wheeled herself back into her workshop and sealed the hatch behind her. Even if she wanted to, Terisa couldn’t watch out for one person in the face of the stampede. With no hope of killing all of the oncoming monsters, the expedition’s survival hinged on convincing it to change direction. She had hoped for a couple of single monsters, a few easy kills to forge their will; as it stood, the entire caravan would face mortal danger in this crucible.
She followed her husband, Foz, who used his nose as much as his ears and eyes to make his way past the dwarven encampment and the beastkin campsite to where an emplacement of cannon had been set as a perimeter defense. Several dead rockmaw littered the meadow before them, and the trees in the distance shook as more approached. Nessara stood in a glowing circle with three other mages, each with their staff raised to the sky for a group casting.
“Scouts came back just ahead of the rockmaw,” Kojeg informed Terisa. “They’re running this way, and some stonebear, chased by some elder wyverns.”
“Not chased,” snarled Foz. “Gamgarra are terrified, don’t know why. Something bigger is out there.”
“I don’t know what would scare an entire family of ‘em,” replied the dwarf while his brethren reloaded the cannons. “But we need to turn the charge before they come up this side of the valley pass. It’s a whole herd of rockmaw, and dozens of stonebear. I know it be matin’ season, but I never seen a group this big before.”
“I haven’t either,” replied Terisa as the cannons barked in unison, the acrid scent of the alchemical powder stinging her nose. “But old Mageema, that half-wolf shamaness who led the expedition before me, she told me some things. This could be a migration year. But it’s too early in the season!”
“Dunno what that is,” Foz growled, spinning his axes. The berserker had to wind himself up to take full advantage of his class, and would not truly come into his own until blood flew.
Nessara and her companion mages finished their working of Mana, and a massive sphere of light and flame arced up over the meadow just as several dozen more rockmaw burst through the trees. The fireball was over ten paces wide, and it impacted over thirty paces from the leading monster almost half a mile away. Despite the distance, and despite their innate magical resistances, the front rank of charging beasts were incinerated, and the ones behind them ran around the smoking ruin left by the spell. The mages wasted no time, immediately resuming their spellcraft after downing mana potions. The glowing circles around them began to pulse once again as they gathered power.
More adventurers were joining the line now, and a pair of feline beastkin scouts came darting out of the trees a hundred paces to the right of the crater. Terisa wasn’t sure what tribe they were from, not that it mattered to her; but some tribes didn’t get along at all. They crossed the meadow with bestial swiftness, stopping near Foz to salute the larger man. “We diverted two of the stonebears, but there’s at least another two hundred rockmaw coming up the valley,” one said while the other recovered from the sprint. At least these two don’t dislike the Ursara, she thought to herself.
“Where’s Dana?!” shouted Kojeg as the cannon roared again. “The lass built summat be perfect for a situation like this.”
“What could she build that can turn a stampede?!” retorted the huntress as she raised her bow, sending several arrows into another small pack of rockmaw that stumbled through the trees. Each arrow struck a monster in the head as if a giant hammer had crushed their skulls, dropping a half a dozen beasts in a heartbeat. “Once they knock enough of those trees down to get a good run, they’ll all be coming this way!”
“She don’t think like we do!” responded the dwarf. “That woman has the most terrifying mind I’ve ever witnessed! If you ever saw her workshop--”
Terisa didn’t have time to respond before a new, completely foreign sound swelled into being, swallowing the rumbling of the oncoming horde. It was a long, mournful wail, a howling siren that grew to such a peak that Terisa had to clap her hands to her ears. She may have screamed; she couldn’t hear herself. It seemed to come from the direction of the rest of the camp, but it was so unimaginably loud that it was hard to tell. It died away, but as Terisa cautiously lowered her hands, it rose once again. Once more it fell and rose, only to finally die away into silence. Stunned, Terisa gawked at Kojeg.
“That be her,” said Kojeg flatly, twisting his fingers in his ears. “I suggest everyone without the urge to be turned ta’ paste just step back a wee bit.”
New earthshaking rumbles joined what she could feel from the approaching horde of monsters. The impact of metal on metal reverberated throughout the camp, drowning out the monsters’ cries. The sound began to remind her of gnomish metalwork, but writ several times louder.
“The way she builds golems! She doesn’t see ‘em as separate things! Modular, she calls it,” yelled the dwarf over the noise as he led her and Foz back from the line of cannon that faced the forest’s edge. “Never seen the like,” he continued as they ran. His explanation was cut short as the ground heaved from a massive impact, nearly throwing Terisa to the ground. Then another. And another.
Six jointed insectoid legs bore Dana’s workshop, or what used to be her workshop, into the clearing. Each impact shook the ground as though a giant were treading the earth. Terisa could recognize parts of the rear sections of the workshop in the legs, as well as the bristling weaponry of foreign design that studded the foremost section.
Plates shifted and gears turned with an almost organic smoothness. A leg tore itself free from the ground, earth falling away as it rose, then slammed down again. On the front of the machine, two plates slid aside, making room for twin cylinders to protrude. It reminded Terisa somewhat of a spider’s jaw. That is, until they began to spin – slowly at first, growing faster and faster until they were screaming.
The first of the main herd of rockmaws broke through the treeline on the opposite end of the meadow.
And then, the Worldwalker’s creation spat death and devastation at a rate that boggled the mind. Her class skills and enhancements allowed her to see that the cylinders – which were themselves made of smaller cylinders – were spewing bits of metal so fast that she could barely distinguish one from the next. Pieces of what she was sure was brass rained down in a continuous stream from somewhere on the machine’s belly, pattering off the rock and earth. One bounced over to her, and she reached down to examine it. At its base, it was nearly as thick as her wrist, but tapered to a smaller opening at the far end.
The cannons and their effluence cut down trees, rockmaws, and stonebears alike with an ease that seemed almost casual. Though no single strike would have felled one of the monsters – in fact, most of the expedition could have survived a few hits unless they were well-placed – the strikes did not come singly, but in a continuous hailstorm, littering the ground with blood, flesh, and corpses, chewed to pieces as the awesome machine swept its beam of death from one side of the killing field to the other.
But still, the Worldwalker was not done. For nearly sixty seconds, her machine spat its death across the field, and only then did it slow, the red-hot barrels steaming as the rain of brass came to an end.
The field lay barren, and far quieter than it had been mere minutes before. But then, the trees exploded, giving birth to a pair of Gamgarra, the elder wyverns. They had been at the rear of the stampede, and now their path was laid clear.
Terisa raised her bow, mana swirling along her arms as she prepared another [Celestial Shot], another heavensplitter – but Dana was quicker on the draw. Two of the machine’s great legs split apart, panels opening to reveal pulsating Mana Crystals, already beginning to pull Mana from the air around them in a current Terisa could easily feel.
Another cylinder thrust forward from the innards of the machine, between the still-cooling cannons. This cylinder was a single piece, and covered in concentric circles of runes. These began to contra-rotate, faster and faster until they blurred into solid bands.
Then, a hum that was so loud it couldn’t be called a hum, a crack of thunder, and a solid beam of cerulean light leapt from the barrel to the lead wyvern – and emerged from the other side of its head. It flashed again, and its mate fell as well.
The field went silent as the grave. Nobody spoke; nobody could speak. Everyone stood slackjawed, struck dumb by the devastation a single woman had wrought.
Over a hundred monsters, in moments! the huntress thought. And no common monsters, either, these are all-- Horror overtook her, and she turned, but too late.
The massive walker lurched to the side as a flash of golden light shone forth from inside; Dana had gained a level. More flashes signalled more levels, and the walker staggered as if under some unimaginable onslaught before pitching to the ground, its legs collapsing as golden flashes continued to rise.
“Kojeg!” Terisa shouted as she bounded towards the machine. “What’re her autos?”
“Dunno!” the dwarf shouted back. “Never asked, but she gets stronger every time, so at least one to strength!”
“Dammit,” she cursed, leaping onto the machine’s head. “She’s hyperleveling! We have to get her out or she’ll starve to death before waking up!”
She tugged, then heaved at the armor, to no avail. The Worldwalker had clearly built her machine to be a tank, but it would also become her grave if she Terisa couldn’t get it open. Kojeg swung his hammer with a mighty shout, trying to open a hole, but it was Foz who ultimately brought the solution.
Or, rather, was the solution. The excitement and the sight of blood had given him the opportunity to finally tap into his berserker’s rage, and he exercised it against the side of the machine, his great axes shearing away at its structure with each strike. It wasn’t long before he had opened a big enough path for Terisa to reach the fallen engineer.
“Food, Foz! Go get more, meat and drink!” Before her eyes, she could see Dana’s body wasting away, growing more gaunt as she expended caloric reserves she did not have. Terisa didn’t understand the mechanisms holding Dana into her seat, but she didn't need to understand in order to destroy. She tore cables, bent back metal braces, and ripped away woven straps in order to pull the unconscious Worldwalker out of the cupped seat from which she had controlled the machine.
The woman’s spinal graft had released the linking tendrils when the woman fell unconscious, and she knew she’d owe Dana an apology after cutting free the plumbing connectors that the woman had so shyly explained after their first meeting’s awkward questions. She didn’t know how many times the girl had just levelled, but as she watched, the girl’s skin pulled tight against her bones. Gently pulling her from the seat once all the various connectors and strange metal workings were out of the way, she wrapped the girl in her cloak and gingerly carried her back out of the machine to set her on the ground. She’s light, Terisa thought worriedly, far too light.
“Here’s some stamina potions,” offered Nessara as she approached with the other mages. “That’ll stave off the worst of it. She had to have gained at least a dozen levels, probably more.”
Kojeg and Foz were already returning, the dwarf with a small cask on one shoulder and her husband with an armload of still-bloody steaks. Terisa managed to get one of the stamina potions down Dana’s throat, but the Worldwalker wasn’t out of danger by any measure. The woman sputtered, waking up to clutch at the bottle and drain the rest of the potion. Terisa handed her another as Nessara used fire magic to sear small bite-sized chunks of meat before handing them to the girl. Quality was less of a concern than just getting it cooked enough that the woman wouldn’t throw it back up.
After finally recovering enough strength to feed herself, Dana broke down in tears, curling up in Terisa’s robe. “I had no idea,” she groaned. “Levelling never hurt before!”
“Too much of anything hurts, lass,” Kojeg replied softly.
After wolfing down several more fist-sized chunks of meat, she managed to ask, "Did I stop the stampede?"
“Aye, ye did that and more,” replied the dwarf.
“I broke it,” growled Foz, pointing at the mobile walker with one axe. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” replied the Worldwalker. Her expression went from pained to sudden mirth. “Is he always like that?” she asked Terisa, unable to stop herself from laughing. The huntress, relieved that she didn’t have a dead Worldwalker on her hands, joined in her laughter. Soon everyone present was stifling chuckles except for Foz. He simply grunted and ate another piece of meat.
They sat around her, watchful of the wildlands, and she continued to eat and recover. Their revelry was interrupted once more, however, by the mage Nessara crying out, clutching her head and falling to her knees.
The other mages still standing by the ritual circle had likewise collapsed, and Terisa stared in utter confusion.
“Nothing in the Wildlands can do this!” one moaned.
“It’s not the Wildlands,” Nessara groaned through clenched teeth. “Someone is working a ritual, or a Greater Spellworking.”
Terisa felt it then as well, a low pulsing in the earth beneath them. Nessara and the other mages were beginning to recover, but still seemed on the verge of collapse at any moment. “What is it? I can sense Earth magic…”
“Yes, it’s Earth, alright,” Nessara responded shakily. “And some Fire, and Lightning too. Every mage in the expedition felt that, and I bet the shamans at Thun’Kadrass are shitting gold bricks right now.”
“I don’t understand,” Terisa said, shaking her head.
“I’ve visited the Great Forge myself, you know, over ten years ago. Whoever is doing whatever they’re doing is channeling more Earth Mana than the Great Forge. It’s quite literally enough to move a mountain.”
They stood and Dana sat, looking out to the east, wondering who could manage such a feat in a place where there were supposedly no people at all.
And the magic kept pulsing until long after nightfall.
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 26: Territorial Disputes",
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Jacob Ward sat his horse with greater ease than he would have ever thought possible in his previous life. [Horsemanship] was one of his passive skills, and allowed him much increased ability to understand his mount. He now handled the creature with smooth assurance.
One of the local youths who had not yet unlocked a class came riding towards Jacob’s position. The boy had already had some basic riding skills, and had volunteered to ride with the scouts patrolling ahead of the wagon train.
“Report, boy. Are the farms in the next valley going to evacuate?”
The younger man turned his horse to fall in next to Jacob with a deft gesture of the reins. “Yes sir, or at least most of them. A few holdouts ran us off, but they were all white-haired ancient classers.”
“Why is that so important?”
The youth gave him a strange look before clearing his throat and continuing. “I forget Worldwalkers don’t know everything, sir. For classers that old, they may not have the endurance or regen of the rest of us, but the raw power never goes away.” He grinned savagely. “They may only be able to do it once or twice before the effort kills them, but they can still crack the earth or break the sky.”
“So the Deskren will have a sorry time of it, to try to rout them…”
“They’ll fight like cornered badgers,” the youth agreed, “and if they take enough out at once to gain a level, they could hold this valley for days.”
“Good,” said Jacob, noting with a smile the slight confusion on the lad’s face. “I can’t put off Class Selection much longer, and the caravan can’t afford to have me down for two or three days to get over it.”
“So the rumors are true, sir?” His face shone with a new eagerness. “We can hold for a few days; the training has already let most of us learn new combat skills, even some of the older classers. Or you could lay in one of the wagons for Selection, and we can just avoid stopping at all…”
“That’s an option I’ll talk over with Erin and the others. Now, you go see my wife for some food and then get rested for your next patrol. Mishel’s husband Parnus slaughtered one of the hogs this morning, so there’s bacon.”
The youth gave an earnest, if imperfect, salute and turned his horse to head back towards the rear of the caravan, where Jacob’s wife rode with the family that had first took them in when they arrived on Anfealt. A [Farmer] and a [Midwife], who had graciously allowed the newlywed pair of Worldwalkers to stay in their barn in exchange for help with the fields. It had not lasted, however, as the Deskren incursions began less than a month after the Purple Night.
The city of South Hollows had fallen, and it had not gone gentle into that good night. Knowing the alternative was slavery, the entire city had taken up arms to clear a path for the young and those unable to fight. Those unable or unwilling to flee had made suicidal last stands street by street, to buy time. The evacuees had scattered into the surrounding hills, and different groups banded together for protection from banditry and from the slaver teams who filtered into the wilderness, picking off stragglers.
A few haggard groups passing through the farmstead prompted the farmer and his family to evacuate as well, smoke from the neighboring lands a grim notice of the consequences of staying alone. One family and a pair of Worldwalkers on the road became two families, then three, then five as more joined them. Jacob’s background in military command lent itself almost immediately to Skills regarding organization and the logistics of managing a caravan on the march. Most of the common citizenry of Anfealt stood in awe of Worldwalkers, and that gave an even sharper edge to his natural abilities to command.
He was not sure exactly when it happened, but he had become the unofficial leader of an entire column of refugees. He did, however, know why: his natural aptitude for any number of survival-oriented tasks -- organizing wagon trains, managing the flow of bodies without any getting in another's way, and maintaining effective patrol coverage, to name but three -- led the refugees to defer to him almost without conscious thought.
When the first bandit raid came in the middle of the night, they lost three wagons and the lives of a dozen refugees. The caravan's food stores had been raided, and several women had also been dragged off into the night. Though he had assumed everything would fall apart after that, the thirty riders he led out to rescue the women had not turned against him.Indeed, while his wife helped heal the traumatized girls with her own class skills, those who had been in the rescue party had dispersed among the wagons, spreading tales of his passive command skill, [Momentum]. Any mounted unit he led travelled with greater... inertia, was the only way he could describe it even to himself.
When they had charged into the ragtag camp of bandits, their horses’ hooves struck the ground with thunderous impact, and they hit the brigands with such force that the enemy had been nearly obliterated. Bodies, tents, armor, even the other group’s own mounts had been sent flying as if struck by a plow, not mere horseflesh. Those not sent flying were trampled and broken without mercy, and the sight of the battered women next to their wagon rid them of any notion of taking prisoners. Jacob had put the surviving bandits to the sword personally, while his makeshift militia watched with flat eyes.
There had been no more losses to banditry since that night. Jacob had drafted the best riders from among the refugees and organized training schedules for scouting and formation drills. Everyone with fighting experience had been drawn up to practice in groups for at least two hours every evening, when the caravan halted for the night. The wagons were now circled together whenever they made camp. Anyone who could swing a pick or shovel quickly learned how to dig shallow trenches for defense, and everyone with archery skills kept eyes on the surrounding hills and forest glades at all times. People with woodscraft or hunting skills or classes were recruited to stealthily keep watch on the surrounding area, ready to sound a signal with flashy spells or by simply blowing horns if they lacked magic.
What Jacob had was an army assembling itself as it went, protecting the children and livestock in the middle of a barricade of healthy and strong bodies. Several bandit groups since the first had mistaken the caravan for easy pickings, and had paid the price for their hubris. He had gained the title [The Implacable] when he executed the rapists in that first battle, providing a significant boost to his already-formidable abilities. His original thirty riders were quickly growing into a solid cavalry unit under his lead, his Skills allowing for rapid maneuver and almost-instinctive unit awareness. Thanks to watchful scouts, several groups of unsuspecting brigands had met their end facing a heavy charge. What amounted to a proto-hivemind among the riders under his command permitted a remarkable fluidity, the men able to be everywhere among the wagons until they all needed to be somewhere to repel a threat.
Shaking himself out of his reverie, he sat upright in the saddle and watched the refugee train pass by into the clearing where initial fortifications for camp were already being dug, that could be added to later. Trenches were being carved out and berms of dirt piled up to give archers cover, to break up enemy charges, and to protect against magical attacks. The few people they had picked up with magical classes moved in a group, laying out protective wards and linking them in a circle around the grounds. They had no offensive caster classes so far, but several classless teens showed minor talent with basic attack spells and seemed eager to train towards combat-related magecraft. Jacob looked over the forming camp and was once again struck by the sense of a military compound, at once filled with both pride at the ability of those under him and remorse at its necessity.
As the main body of the column moved into the fortified area, Jacob saw his wife, Erin, climb down from one of the two large conestoga wagons that had been converted to mobile field hospitals. Her med school training on Earth had led to her gaining skills in diagnosis and healing magics and surgery on a level that the people they met so far had found miraculous. Even though they had successfully fought off every raid from both regular bandits and Deskren slavers, they still ended up with wounded to care for. She had gained a class within the first week of the march from such extensive use of her abilities, and the [Hand of Solace] had organized every warm body with any healing talent at all into the kind of trauma response unit that would make any metropolitan hospital jealous.
He spurred his horse to an easy trot and made his way down into the camp. His wife, having just finished dumping out a basin of bloody water into one of the latrines, approached him. “Everyone made it today, Jake,” she called as he dismounted and handed the reins to one of the tenders that helped manage the caravan’s mounts and livestock. “I couldn’t save Millie’s arm; the arrow was poisoned, but at least now she won’t have to worry about infection. The rest will be up and walking in a day or two at the most.”
He didn’t respond, simply walking up and lifting her off her feet in a hug that highlighted the difference in their respective heights, with her shoes nearly a foot off the ground.
“You have to choose, don’t you?” she said after silently enjoying the attention for several moments.
“I can’t put it off any longer. But I hate leaving you helpless while I’m under.”
She straightened her blouse and apron as he set her back on her feet, shooing away his concerns with a wave of her hand. “It will only be two days, three at the most. We can hold off the raiders, should they come. You’ve trained your men well; trust in them. I’m more worried about what class you plan to choose.”
They walked between the rows of wagons, stopping at a nondescript cart pulled by a single horse. “I’m not worried about little raids, Erin. If the Deskren are mounting a full invasion, then there are entire armies on the move. And my options so far…”
“No half measures,” she said sternly. “You do what makes the most sense for the mission, you’ve never been a glory hound.” Her face twisted with disgusted outrage. “They enslave children,” she snarled before calming herself and continuing. “The man I married stood against such evils back on our old world. He wouldn’t be the same man if he didn’t here as well.”
“I’m not going to disparage myself, woman,” he said with a feral grin and pulled her into another embrace. “If I commit to this, I absolutely can break the Deskren. All that will take is time.” His savage grin faded, replaced with an uneasy expression. “But it could be decades of war, hon. What about after?”
“How can there be an ‘after,’ if they aren’t beaten? I won’t wear a collar like a dog, or bring children into any world ruled by the likes of them.”
His slumped a little as he held his better half, a more resigned and somber mood now floating between the two. “You know me better than these people, know what it will mean if I do this. I explained my options to you when I checked them last.”
“Every day we wait they take more innocent people, Jacob. As long as you don’t come back from this as some silly dancing dandy, you know I’ll stand with you no matter what it takes to finish them.” She pulled back, fixing Jacob with an intense gaze. “I married a good man, not a nice one.”
He threw back the flap on the end of the wagon, revealing a bed of folded blankets just wide enough for a person to lay comfortably within. “All of the extra defenses have been prepared, and they all know what to do to keep reinforcing them,” he said as he stepped onto the running board at the back of the cart. “You’re in charge until I get back.”
“If you aren’t awake by the third day, we’ll move the convoy. I know we can’t stay in one place any longer than that.”
Never one to drag out any form of goodbye, Jacob leaned down and kissed his wife, then turned and crawled into the wagon to lay down. A brief mental command to pull up his status menu and he was once again in another place, oblivious to the surrounding world.
His wife had recounted her Class Selection to him, with her other self being a nurse dressed in hospital scrubs in a hospital waiting room. Her presentation of the Class Avatars had been a gigantic sprawling facility with different types of specialized doctors and healer classes, with a few Life- and Death-aspected mage classes scattered here and there.
Jacob’s own was very different. Instead of a waiting room, he found himself in an Army recruiter’s office, but with a younger copy of himself sitting behind the desk. So similar to the same room he had walked into all those years ago, before his first enlistment and service, and later his trip through West Point.
His other self did not even get up from the desk as he had the previous visits when Jacob had came here to review his choices. He simply nodded, and sipped from his mug of coffee before speaking.
“So this is it, then.”
“There’s a lot that needs doing, and I don’t see anybody else doing it,” Jacob replied with a shrug.
“That’s how it goes. We swore the Oaths when we signed up, and the spirit still pulls, even if we’re far away from where we swore. Some things are simply intolerable, and require that hard men do hard things.”
“Then let it be done.”
Recruiter-Jacob nodded and waved towards the door. “You don’t need me out there; we both know what you’ve chosen.”
Jacob gave a somber nod, then turned and opened the door. He stepped out, not into an arena, or a hospital, or a ballroom, or any of the other manifestations that had been described to him. No…
Jacob Ward’s Class Selection landscape was a battlefield. Or The Battlefield, thought Jacob grimly.
It stretched from horizon to horizon, running into the distance both ahead and behind. Near the limits of his sight, explosions flashed and thunder tore the sky as dirt and rubble and bodies were churned up by the chaos of the conflict. Clouds the color of gunmetal hung low and ominous, and the scent of burned things both organic and synthetic permeated the air.
He walked along trenches and behind barricades, threading his way between artillery emplacements and the wreckage of tanks and vehicles from every era of war. Different versions of himself operated various pieces of equipment or stood next to them in uniform, all greyed out and faded, despite the perfect detail. He had made his choice before entering this place, so they did not call out to him. They merely discharged their roles in silence as jets thundered above and the ground shook from rolling tracks and marching boots and bombs falling from the sky.
The war-torn landscape was endless, but it did seem to have themed regions where one age of warfare was more pronounced than others. He had been here several times before, and knew roughly where his destination was. As he walked, the trenches and barbed wire gave way to more shallow ditches and walls of pikes, with infantry marching in lock-step to advance towards the field of death and destruction. Tanks and vehicles gave way to horses and wagons, but the eyes of all his copies remained the same -- iron determination and a relentless dedication to getting the job done. The eyes of the Soldier.
Here, the avatars were beginning to show up in full color -- options that were closer to or more compatible with what he had finally decided to choose. Men in crisply-pressed dress uniforms stood between men in gleaming medieval full plate to their left, and men in modern sets of body armor to their right. Though these, too, stood as possible directions for his Soul (as he had been informed after his first abortive Selection), they, like those before, stood silent. No Class like [Dawnbreak Commander] or [Ivory Gauntlet] for Jacob, no -- those classes leaned as much towards the glory itself as they did accomplishing the mission. Capable as they were, he harbored no desire for such gaudy frivolous things as medals and recognition.
For what seemed like half a day or more, Jacob’s feet carried him past interminable battlefields, endless tableaus, silent commemorations of death, destruction, and war. Finally, Jacob’s journey drew to its end. The clouds seemed to press further in as the machines of war faded behind him, the scream of warfare fading to the throaty rumble of distant ordnance, heavy with expectation. Before him stood a formation of at least fifty armed and armored riders, lances rising above them like jagged teeth, raking the sky. Blood, black and steaming in the wintry air, dripped down their shafts. Their armor was not polished, nor was it even uniform between each rider and horse, but all of it was functional and the care spent on maintaining that function was obvious.
One rider sat ahead of the formation. Like his brothers, he and his mount faced the battlefield; however, as Jacob drew closer, their heads turned to meet him. His armor, too, set him apart from his fellows -- it seemed to darken at the edges, leaking shadow into the air, leeching the light from the space around him. His mount, a massive Percheron, exhibited the same effect. His expression was cold and calm, his motions economy itself.
Jacob approached the imposing figure, neither saying a word until he approached to within a few paces, causing the massive warhorse to snort and stamp its hoof hard enough to throw up mud and dirt. Silence quickly returned, and Jacob and the rider watched each other for several long moments.
“It’s time,” he said to his reflection.
“Indeed.” The reply was given in a matter-of-fact tone, cold and deep, and in that moment, with that word, the muted thunder and roar of distant battle faded away.
“I intend to crush the Deskren. And any who enslave others. This world does not know war, not truly.”
“They will,” rumbled the reply.
“I will bow to no Kings or Kingdoms,” said Jacob. “I swore my oaths to one nation, and they still hold. Those who follow me will hold to them as well.”
“Then seek the [Oracle] in due time. She may fashion a treaty to set you apart from the Bargain of Kings. More than this I cannot say,” spoke the horseman.
“Then there is nothing more to discuss.”
The man made no reply, merely tucking his lance back against his shoulder and leaning towards Jacob slightly to extend a hand. He reached out and shook that bloodied, mailed gauntlet. In the next moment, the eternal battlefield vanished.
The [Blacklance Battlemaster] opened his eyes, gritting his teeth as the changes to be wrought upon his soul began to ravage his being.
|
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Morgan Mackenzie was in a very sorry state. She was flat on her back in a crater the size of a small house. A crater that had in fact been her house, even if only for a single night. Cold rain fell in slow lazy plops that hissed and sizzled into steam once they came into contact with the glowing remnants of molten stone and earth around her. The messages notifying her that [Heat Resistance] had reached mastery level were rather anticlimactic and redundant as well, seeing as the melted rock had pooled around her yet only felt uncomfortably warm against her body. Not to mention the the fact that the fire and heat that caused such melting had come from within her own body. She was still alive partially thanks to [Naked Recovery] and [Heat Resistance], and had also gained [Heat Affinity]. The bit of healing and restoration she’d received upon levelling up from defeating what the notification had called a [Wildlands Shadowlynx] had also helped.
Alive did not necessarily mean in good health, however. Her health pool was stable although low at only around a quarter of her total, which Morgan thought was amazing in its own right as her body was not exactly in pristine condition anymore. The flames had spread out from her bones, burning her flesh on their way out, and her skin was a spider web of singed and bloody cracks. For what seemed an eternity, she waited for her Stamina to recover a few dozen points before spending it on another wave of [Naked Recovery]. She was no longer able to ignore what the skill had been trying to show her ever since she had left the Tree. The damage to her skin extended deep into her muscles and other tissue, and to heal it she had to look at it with the senses provided by the Skill.
Her bones had been changed in the aftermath of eating the fruit from the tree, and the changes were disturbing to Morgan on several different levels.What she understood as bones and the stuff that made them up were still there, after a fashion, but they were now interwoven with something else. It was like the solid form of her bone-material was being fused with a riot of various colors of crystals growing out from her very marrow. And she could actually see them, thanks to the stub of fractured bone sticking out from where her left arm ended just before the wrist. Every time her Stamina recovered a few dozen points, she spent it furiously on [Naked Recovery] to bring her health back up and repair the damage. Every wave of healing she could watch another fraction of an inch of her arm regrow, slivers of crystals like a lattice of needles in twisting kaleidoscopic patterns rebuilding the bone. It would be beautiful if she weren’t so creeped out by it. And it wasn’t just where the new bone was growing. Her healing skill showed her in full detail how every bit of damage to her skeletal structure, every tiny crack and microfracture was healing with the same crystalline replacement.
On top of all that she had lost her only friend in this new and violent magical world. Even now anger warred with despair over remembering the jaws closing around Lulu along with her hand, and when she strayed too far into rage her mana would go wild with jolts of power that caused bright and painful arcs of lightning to flash inside and around her body. That was another skill she had gained from the most recent crisis, and she read through the notification one final time before dismissing it with a thought:
You have gained the skill [Spell Surge]! Magic is writ into your very bones, and responds to your will and emotions! Ignite the mana within your body to greatly empower your spells for a short time in exchange for increased mana cost! Beware: Passion without control can be as deadly to the caster as to her enemies!
The skill was poor recompense for losing her little friend. The drizzling cold rain fit Morgan’s mental state perfectly at the moment. The lacey puffball had been a perfect crutch to prop up her sanity, and while ridiculously cute and adorable, it made a huge difference having something to talk to. Even if it could only make warbling sounds in reply.
A few times spending her stamina on [Naked Recovery] had pushed it to level eight. That made it a little bit easier to work the healing, but with each round of healing the skill also used up her body’s fat reserves a little bit. Not by much, as the skill seemed very efficient with the exchange, but enough for her to definitely notice and feel a growing hunger. She was nowhere near to starving just yet, but there was a lot of damage in her body and she had no intention of reliving the experience of the [Starvation] affliction.
Without Lulu to talk to she felt the gravity of her situation quickly turning into a forlorn sort of apathy and depression. She had just about given in to despair, laying back on the cooling stone while raindrops fizzled into steam around her. Her deep introspective melancholy was suddenly interrupted by the most welcome notification Morgan had yet received:
Lulu’s [Exfoliate] skill has reached level 2!
Morgan scrambled to her feet, falling over when she forgot her missing hand and drove the exposed bones into the ground. Even with her high level [Pain Resistance] skill, she could not help crying out with harsh yelps from the spikes of agony. Her feet were still tender and cracked from the burns, and she stumbled her way over to the charred remains of the [Wildlands Shadowlynx]. It had been thrown nearly two dozen paces away, although the muddy rubble and tumbled earth and stone scattered about spread several times farther. She paid the destruction she had caused no heed, however, as she hurried over to the corpse.
The big cat’s paws and tail and tufted ears were simply gone, burned away by the intense flames that Morgan had called forth. The rest of it was a blackened mass of seared fur and hide, its massive head frozen in a rictus snarl of outrage. With its fur and skin burned away its toothy maw formed a cage and she could just make out the charred remains of her hand still in its mouth. The sight of that made her pause with a shudder, but she had more pressing concerns.
“LULU!!!” she yelled, ignoring the sooty crumbles of skin and meat that came off on her good hand as she pushed at the cat’s body to roll it over. Part of its rib cage gave way with her shove, the crispy burnt layers crumbling away to the merely browned and bloody meat underneath.
She could feel more than hear Lulu’s pulsing scrubbing at the inside of the cat, and tried to claw at the meat with her hand but could find no purchase. Looking at the jagged crystal edge of bone protruding from the stump of her left arm, she took a deep breath to steel herself for the inevitable pain and pressed the edge of the bone shard against the cat’s chest. Bracing the corpse with her good hand she leaned into it, and the pain was less extreme than she had been expecting. The edge of bone parted the cooked cat like a steak knife through a medium rare porterhouse steak. She was dimly aware of her hunger and the drool-inducing aroma of roasted meat but such thoughts took second place to concern for her best and only friend in the world.
Lulu’s [Exfoliate] skill has reached level 3!
The pulsing whoosh-whoosh sort of vibrations from the loofah’s normal scrubbing deepened even further, like feeling the vibrations of a washing machine cycle from another room in a house. Finally she managed to tear open the carcass enough to free the brave little scrubby, and it immediately hopped up Morgan’s arm to her shoulder, giving her a purring snuggle that did wonders for making the girl feel better about her situation.
She simply sat there in relief for a few minutes, letting the rain and the scrubby take care of the soot and mud splattered all over her. The time spent freeing her pet had let her Stamina recover almost completely, and her Mana was full as well. She spent her mana raising a curved wall of stone out of the ground with [Earth Sculpt] and bent it overhead to block the worst of the rain, and then turned her attention back to trying to heal her missing hand. By the time her two arm bones had regrown to the base of her wrist joint, [Naked Recovery] had gained another level, and Morgan was once again looking and feeling as gaunt as a bulimic underwear model.
“I guess regrowing a hand burns up a lot of calories with the healing skill, Lulu…”
The scrubby had given her its trademark full body sponge bath and then had hopped up to the stump of her hand to [Exfoliate] away the dried blood and cracked scabs of skin that were growing there as the flesh kept mending itself around the new bone growth. Lulu did not seem concerned at all about the changes in her bones when Morgan rambled absentmindedly about it to the little puffball, merely giving what looked like a loofah equivalent of a shrug as it inched its way along her arm.
With her reserves of body-fat effectively gone, she was now facing a dilemma. With hunger already beginning to gnaw at her belly, the healing was getting harder and starting to draw on her muscle tissue. She wasn’t thirsty thanks to a quick sculpting of a bowl and some caught rainwater, but she needed to eat. Her [Spell Surge] empowered blast had excavated half the hillside and the molten stone and burning rubble had devastated the berry patch and most of the open meadow. The only food source she had at hand happened to be one very well done [Wildlands Shadowlynx], and while the thought of eating any type of cat seemed just wrong to her native Spokane city girl sensibilities, it smelled really good under all the char and burnt bits. And [Naked Instinct] was most certainly agreeing, giving her impressions of “tasty,” “edible,” and “no danger” every time she glanced at it.
With Morgan’s ribs becoming even more pronounced, Lulu gave a concerned trill and hopped over to the dead creature, bobbing up and down in silent expectation and admonishment. “I know, I know,” said Morgan, “I need to eat. But its a cat…” Her stomach chose that moment to announce its agreement with the scrubby with a growling burble of its own.
“Well,” she said as she crammed her reservations into a little box and pushed them aside, “the bastard did try to eat us!” As she pulled off a chunk of still-steaming meat and held it up, the loofah warbled in approval and began scrubbily consuming the outer charred and sooty burnt bits of the cat, leaving juicy cooked portions exposed. Between the scent of the meat and her rising hunger the last of her hesitation fell away and she took a bite. It was stringy, gamey, greasy, and a bit on the rare side, but it was exactly what her body needed.
“It certainly doesn’t taste like chicken,” she professed to the scrubby in between tearing more grisled bites off the chunk of meat in her hand. “But I’ve had worse…”
Her body was already beginning to fill back out and she had only been eating for a few minutes. Only, she thought. Morgan had spent the last ten minutes eating more meat in one sitting than she normally ate in a week or longer back on earth. Her body’s magic seemed to speed up the process of digestion and she could not catch up with her hunger. “I think the magic really affects metabolism, if that wasn’t obvious already,” she said. But it had benefits, as her fat reserves were already replenishing. “I don’t think I’ll have to worry much about getting fat in this world, Lulu, especially if healing always burns up so many calories.”
She held up her stump and looked at it with a sense of morbid fascination. The partially regrown thumb tingled when she wiggled it, and the new muscles felt stiff and sluggish. With the meat from the cat providing such ready replenishment of calories, she felt a lot better about pushing [Naked Recovery] to its limit to hurry the healing. By the time the rest of her palm and the first nubs of fingers had regrown, she had consumed several more pounds worth of meat from the cat. Her push with the healing led to another notification:
You have mastered the skill [Naked Recovery]!
With the skill mastered, it was only a short time and another couple of fist-sized chunks of roasted meat before she had a fully regrown hand. The skin was sensitive and slightly pink, and her nails were still soft. It was extremely odd to hold it up next to her uninjured hand and compare both. It was even more odd and sickening to see her previously bitten off hand and its burned flesh and bone laying in the dead cat’s mouth. As was the stone band that had caused her so much trouble in the first place. She glared at it with a shudder and sighed.
“That was horrible Lulu. I’ll just stay naked before I go through something like that again, and I don’t mean just the cat and the burning,” she rambled out loud to the rather gluttonous scrubby as it continued to feast on burnt kitty. “When I put the bracelet on and lost my magic it felt like being torn in two, with me on one side and my soul on the other. I don’t know if i can do that again, even if it means gettin’ stuck with no clothes.”
Lulu finally seemed through with its meal and shuffled back over to her and hopped onto her regrown hand to inspect it with comforting purbles of approval. Finding nothing amiss about the new appendage, the scrubby sluggishly worked its way back up her arm to rest in the crook of her neck and shoulder. It definitely seemed well fed, judging by its slow and ponderous movements. Morgan had no idea how the loofah stuck to things, as it did not feel sticky or anything remotely unpleasant like that. It simply stuck where it wanted to, whether that was on her or on the ground or on the trees or whatever else it decided to climb on. From its hushed burbles she had the impression that the adorably poofy thing was sleeping, or whatever equivalent a scrubby would experience.
While she had been eating and healing herself, the rains had tapered off to a drizzle and finally nothing as the clouds broke. Soft sunlight cast long evening shadows and she realized just how long her day had been. She had made a lot of progress practicing with magic before her equipment mishap locked her Aspect that morning, and then she had been attacked a few hours into trying and failing to remove the bracelet.
The demise of the shadowlynx had pushed her to level nine, but more pressing concerns than the rewarded points had occupied her attention. She took a wary glance around, checking for more surprise dangers like the shadowlynx before she pulled up her status menu once again. She spent her stat points first to boost her other attributes closer to the much higher Vitality one. Though she proceeded slowly, the memory of the backlash of bodily changes she had gone through yesterday - was it only yesterday? Or the night before that, rather - slid unpleasantly through her brain. It prompted her to cast an eye on the remainder of the charred cat and contemplate if there was anything left on the corpse that was worthy of salvaging.
Status Information for: Morgan Mackenzie
Level - 9
Primary Class: [Locked]
Secondary Class: [Locked]
Health - 230/230
Stamina - 252/252
Mana - 289/289
STR - 20
AGI - 20
CON - 20
VIT - 28
INT - 21
Stat points available to distribute: 0
Current Skills:
[Naked Instinct]
[Naked Athleticism]
[Naked Recovery(Lvl 10/Mastered)]
[Naked Camouflage]
[Naked Resilience]
-[Pain Resistance(Lvl 9)]
-[Heat Resistance(Lvl 10/Mastered)]
-[Lightning Resistance]
-[Mana Resistance(Lvl 10/Mastered)]
[Naked Magic]
-[Mana Pulse(Lvl 10/Mastered)]
-[Spell Channeling(Lvl 5)]
-[Spell Surge]
-[Mana Affinity(Lvl 6)]
[Naked Elementalism]
-[Fire Affinity]
-[Heat Affinity]
-[Water Affinity]
-[Lightning Affinity]
-[Earth Affinity(Lvl 2)]
-[Lightning Bolt]
-[Water Bolt]
-[Flame Bolt]
-[Candleflame]
-[Earth Sculpt(Lvl 4)]
-[Earth Wave]
[Runic Enchantment]
-[Candleflame Rune]
Skill Points available: 15
Titles, Mantles, and Aspects
[Worldwalker(Title)]
[Blessed of the Guardian Tree(Title)]
[Naked Affinity(Aspect)]
The list of skills was getting longer, and Morgan was glad it was starting to hide information she was already intimately familiar with, like the true ramifications of [Naked Affinity]. She quickly opened the list of available skills to see what, if any, new options presented themselves. She was immediately interested in the skill [The Naked Eye] that she had passed over previously.
Skill Acquisition Menu:
[The Naked Eye(Channeled)] - [10 Skill Points] Due to earning the Aspect [Naked Affinity], the skill [Eagle Eye] has been modified and purchase cost reduced by 50%. You can’t hit what you can’t see! While active, this skill enhances your visual acuity, allowing you to see with much greater clarity things both far away and very close. The [Naked] version of this skill shares synergy with the skill [Naked Instinct], passively improving your ability to see in all conditions except total darkness at all times. Also shares synergy with [Naked Elementalism], allowing you to see the ambient flows of mana in the world around you.
[Naked Might(Channeled)] - [10 Skill Points] Due to earning the Aspect [Naked Affinity], the skill [Enhanced Might] has been modified and purchase cost reduced by 50%. Sometimes a little extra elbow grease is all you need! While active this skill increases the overall physical capabilities of your body, enhancing strength and speed and toughness by reinforcing your bones and muscles with Mana. The [Naked] version of this skill shares synergy with [Naked Resilience], passively increasing the effectiveness of all resistances at all times, reducing damage taken from most types of sources.
[Elemental Fury(Channeled)] - [20 Skill Points] Sometimes unbridled rage is the only answer! When activated, this skill amplifies within your body any Element you have gained an Affinity for, allowing you to temporarily become the living embodiment of the Element you choose, at the cost of mana. Requires at least one Elemental Affinity to have been learned, and not all Elements are compatible with Fury.
[Natural Traps(Passive)] - [15 Skill Points] Sometimes the environment can be altered to do the work for you! This skill provides increased dexterity and enhances your ability to assemble basic types of traps such as deadfalls, pits, and snares.
[Natural Traps] was still there, and remained of no interest to Morgan. With her Earth magic skills, things like pits and deadfalls would be no problem. [Naked Might] was extremely tempting, and [Elemental Fury] was interesting, to say the least. But both of them either had downsides or only seemed useful in desperate situations. It had been a struggle to pass up [The Naked Eye] before, and now that it also synergized with her Elementalism skills Morgan’s mind was made up. She could already sense her own mana with her body and that which she moved around, and the chance to see the magic everywhere else was too good to pass up. Without hesitation she chose [The Naked Eye], and immediately went blind.
Through the use of her healing skill she was able to make some small amount of sense as to what was happening. It was as though something had reached out and switched off her connection to her vision, but the senses from [Naked Recovery] allowed her to feel the concentrated and extremely tiny threads of Mana that were weaving themselves into her eyeballs. The magic was moving much too quickly for Morgan to be able to make any sort of detailed sense of how and what it was doing, exactly. Disconcertingly, it also felt rather itchy.
Within a few dozen heartbeats it was over, and her vision slowly went from black to grey and then colors faded back in. She blinked a few times. “Well, that was a lot less unpleasant than I was expecting, all things considered…”
She looked around, and it definitely seemed that the shadows cast by the forest canopy did not hinder her sight or ability to see details, or at least she could see into the depths of the forest with greater clarity than before the skill. With the merest touch of mana and the simple intent to look, the skill activated and she felt her vision shift. The nearest tree, a distance of at least a football field away, was revealed in crystal clarity as if she were examining a super high definition photo on a computer with a very large and fancy screen.
It was disorienting to try to shift her gaze while the skill was active. It definitely seemed to work better when she chose a target point in the distance and looked. What Morgan found much more fascinating were the subtle flows of mana she could now see around almost everything. The earth was like a low thrumming sea, calm on the surface with the magic and material she was already used to working with thanks to her [Earth Affinity] and [Earth Sculpt] skill. But she could sense deeper currents of mana far below. Much farther down than she knew she could ever reach. The trees pulled Earth and Life mana up from the soil. It was less of a seeing and more of a knowing, as it did not hinder her normal vision in the slightest.
A childlike grin of wonder on her face, Morgan looked around at her world with new eyes, literally. She thought she finally understood why she had been having so much difficulty with Elemental Air. Looking up at the sky she realized that the air did not hold mana like stone, or combust it into energy like fire, or flow with mana like water.
No, the Elemental Air mana danced. While the wind was invisible, she could feel the breeze on her skin and see the Air Mana swirl around everything the wind encountered, dancing with the leaves as they shook on the trees, and waving back and forth with the shifting grasses of the meadow. She had no time take advantage of her new understanding of the Element, however, as [Naked Instinct] began prickling at the back of her mind.
Morgan suddenly knew she was being watched.
|
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Morgan Mackenzie was suddenly back in her own physical body, and thoughts of wings and tattoos were whisked away by this new state of affairs. She found herself unable to move, and she quickly realized that the class selection experience was only the beginning of her newest ordeal. In the span of two heartbeats, the notifications began as she lay helpless on the sand.
Self-Unity achieved. Class compatibility approaching 100%. Class selection confirmed. Consent acknowledged: Initializing Soul Modification.
That seems ominous, she thought. I hope this isn’t going to hurt. Or take very long. And it’s going to change my Soul? I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this...
Her worries were indeed well-founded, as what came next hurt a great deal more than she was prepared to endure. Morgan screamed internally as she felt a merciless pull on what she now knew to be her Soul.
Skill List analyzed. Aspected Skills incompatible with class selection. Generating compatible Skill List…
Compatible Skill List generated.
Revoking Aspect: [Naked Affinity].
Morgan felt her sanity begin to fray as what she could only have described as a spiritual cheese-grater flayed her skills away from her. Each vanishing ability left an agonizing void in her Soul, and her mental anguish intensified to a fever pitch. Her mind felt stretched out, like a rubber band about to snap, but before it could, she felt a familiar otherness envelop her psyche like the most comforting blanket she could have imagined.
And then she was pulled down. Down, away from the pain of the changes being wrought on her Soul. Down, into the blessed blackness. The storm raged above as her Soul was stretched, and cut, and re-woven into something stronger -- but she was held within her own mind, away from the brunt of the experience. Her inner self had no words to offer, she knew, but words were not needed in this place, as they drifted below the waves of sensation. She had chosen this, and would endure.
Lulu’s [Exfoliate] skill has reached level 4!
What?
Lulu’s [Exfoliate] skill has reached level 5!
LULU!
Gripped by sudden panic she fought to reach Lulu, angling towards the tempest of pain above before her other self redoubled its grip, pulling her down once more. This new dream place seemed to rock placidly, back and forth, and she heard a low rhythmic humming surround her, comforting her in this time of crisis. The next notifications allayed her concern, and she felt a small swell of pride.
Lulu has defeated a [Chittering Murdersquirrel(Lvl - 12)]!
Congratulations! Lulu has reached Level 4!
Congratulations! Lulu has reached Level 5!
Hah! Go Lulu!
The scrubby would have to fend for itself for a while, at least until Morgan’s changes were finished. Her concern for her poofy little friend was offset by the fact that the scrubby seemed perfectly capable of handling things for the moment. The notifications seemed to indicate that such was the case, anyway.
Lulu’s [Exfoliate] skill has reached level 6!
Lulu’s [Exfoliate] skill has reached level 7!
Lulu’s [Exfoliate] skill has reached level 8!
Lulu has defeated a [Slap-Tongue Toad(Lvl - 15)]!
Congratulations! Lulu has reached Level 6!
Morgan chuckled internally as Lulu’s notifications appeared. Apparently she’s more dangerous than she looks!
She felt a shift in the mindscape as the storm seemed to calm, and the cold sensations of her skills being ripped away one by one finally came to an end. Her own notifications resumed immediately after the surface of her Soul grew quiet, far above her.
Aspect revocation complete. Incompatible Skillset removed.
Applying Unique Class Framework: [Skyclad Sorceress].
Piercing golden light danced across the surface of the dream-sea far above her, etching a pattern that started as a simple circle centered directly over where she floated. As soon as the circle was completed, the light split and raced outwards in too many directions for her mind’s eye to follow. Concentric loops, geometric patterns and runic designs spread out further and further as the points of light continued to propagate, its lace-like complexity quickly defying her ability to understand.
The changes written into place by the golden light were neither pleasant, nor painful like the removal of her Aspect had been. The light writing changes onto her Soul now felt like a symphony of music that resonated her very being. The glow caused dancing curtains of dappled luminescence to shine down into the dream-sea, and Morgan felt herself lulled deeper into the soothing presence humming tunelessly around her mind. She let herself drift, and time lost all meaning as the messages marking her transformation continued.
Applying Class traits and conditions…
Equipment Auto-Rejection: Enabled.
Auto-Rejection response set to Extreme.
Skyclad status: Absolute, Irrevocable.
Morgan felt only a twinge of regret over the choice she had made. Bye-bye pretty dresses, she mused, the thought meandering to the forefront of her mind. Good lord, am I going to miss my spiffy boots…
Lulu’s [Exfoliate] skill has reached level 9!
Lulu’s [Exfoliate] skill has reached level 10!
Lulu has mastered the skill [Exfoliate]!
Lulu has defeated a [Razortail Crawdad(Lvl - 13)]!
Congratulations! Lulu has reached Level 7!
She was suddenly struck by the absurd mental image of the plucky loofah murdering critters while she lay immobile in the dirt. She’s like a frilly Dalek! You exfoliate all those little bastards, Lulu! A soundless laugh escaped her as she found herself more amused than she was disturbed by the scrubby’s new lethality.
Applying Class Bonuses…
Oh, thought Morgan as the lattice mosaic of light above her flashed brightly for a moment and the complex shapes began to shift and turn. Is this the good part?
Experience Gains Bonus: 100 Percent.
Distributable Status Points Gains Bonus: 100 Percent.
Skill Points Gains Bonus: 100 Percent.
Enhancement Points Gains Bonus: 100 Percent.
Resistance and Affinities Acquisition Difficulty: -50 Percent.
Uh… Yeah, that’s definitely a good part. Wait! The last gains bonus was something she had not seen before. What are Enhancement Points? Is this a class thing again? Oh, she thought sadly. I can’t ask anyone for details anymore, not unless I can find people...
Lulu has defeated a [Carrion-Crawler Centipede(Lvl - 13)]!
Lulu has defeated a [Carrion-Crawler Centipede(Lvl - 13)]!
Congratulations! Lulu has reached Level 8!
Lulu has defeated a [Carrion-Crawler Centipede(Lvl - 15)]!
Congratulations! Lulu has reached Level 9!
What in the world is going on up there? Morgan was struck once again by deep concern for her poofy little companion. She had no sense of time in this place, but it certainly seemed like there were many more threats to deal with than just the few she had encountered herself.
Activating Unique Class Signature Skill: [Living Runic Enchantment]
Enabling Primary Rune Anchor...
All thoughts of Lulu were driven away as a pillar of golden light burst downwards into the dream-sea from the center of the primary circle, pinning Morgan in place. It caused no pain, but instead an all-enveloping tingle like she was floating in a fizzy drink. An eternal moment later, a needle-thin beam of purple light connected the center of her chest to the center of the golden circle above.
Inscribing Rune: [Soul Anchor]...
You have gained the Living Rune: [Soul Anchor]! Living Runes are Enchantments that will grow in power as you do. This Rune allows you to inscribe one Living Rune per level of [Soul Anchor] onto your body. Maximum level of Living Runes is equal to the level of [Soul Anchor]. Removing an existing Rune to inscribe another results in loss of the previous Rune’s level. [Soul Anchor] may not be removed.
The Rune felt cold on her chest after the thinner beam vanished, but she could not see what it was. More notifications came almost immediately as the purple beam returned to strike her directly in the eyes, blinding her with brilliant indigo incandescence.
Inscribing initial Rune: [Mana Vision]...
You have gained the Living Rune [Mana Vision]! This rune has replaced your previous Aspected Skill [The Naked Eye], allowing you to perceive the flows of magic as well as improving vision in all light conditions. Higher levels will allow you to pierce through deceptive enchantments such as veils and glamour.
She could feel a similar cold sting on her face as the glare faded, stretching across her eyes in a band connecting her temples. She didn’t even have time to wonder what the runic tattoo might look like before Lulu’s messages intruded upon her attention.
Lulu has defeated a [Shock-Maw Eel(Lvl - 16)]!
Lulu has defeated a [Shock-Maw Eel(Lvl - 15)]!
Congratulations! Lulu has reached Level 10!
Lulu has spawned a Brood!
WHAT!?
In that moment, Morgan wanted nothing more than to wake back up to see just exactly what was going on in the physical world, but the golden light held her pinned in the dreamscape. Her own state of affairs changed almost immediately as well, with the sudden acceleration of the shifting geometric and arcane patterns far above.
Reapplying Modified Skillset…
[Naked Instinct] changed to [Primal Instinct].
[Naked Acceleration] changed to [Acceleration].
[Naked Athleticism] changed to [Athleticism].
[The Naked Eye] removed, replaced by Living Rune: [Mana Sight].
[Naked Recovery] has evolved to [Regeneration].
[Naked Camouflage] removed, replaced with [Fade Presence].
[Naked Resilience] removed; skill effect intrinsic to Class.
[Naked Magic] removed; skill effect intrinsic to Class.
[Naked Elementalism] removed; skill effect intrinsic to Class.
[Runic Enchantment] modified to include [Living Runes].
[Spell Surge] unchanged, compatible with Class.
[Resistances] Skill Group created; see status menu.
[Affinities] Skill Group created; see status menu.
[Spell List] compiled; see status menu.
WIth every notification that appeared, sections of the light-woven lattice above her shifted. They turned, folded into each other, and slid in dizzying patterns as the entire mosaic seemed to be condensing into the greater circle directly over her floating mind-self.
Lulu has spawned a Brood!
The absurdity of the notifications continuing during Morgan’s transformation gave a humorous tint to the seriousness of the changes happening to her Soul and body. She knew that time felt different in this place, and was now even more eager to return to the waking world to help her loyal companion. Her excitement over the Class notifications and changes had been building ever since the pain had stopped, adding to her impatience.
Formatting Class Status Menu… Complete.
Status Information for: Morgan MackenzieLevel - 10Primary Class: [Skyclad Sorceress]Secondary Class: [Locked]Health - 250/250Stamina - 280/280Mana - 210/210STR - 20AGI - 20CON - 20VIT - 28INT - 21Stat points available to distribute: 10Current Skills:[Primal Instinct][Acceleration][Athleticism][Regeneration][Fade Presence]
[Spell Surge][Resistances]-[Pain Resistance(Lvl 9)]-[Heat Resistance(Mastered)]-[Lightning Resistance]-[Mana Resistance(Mastered)][Affinities]-[Mana Affinity(Lvl 6)]-[Fire Affinity]-[Heat Affinity]-[Water Affinity]-[Lightning Affinity]-[Earth Affinity(Lvl 2)][Spell List]-[Mana Pulse(Mastered)]-[Spell Channeling(Lvl 5)]-[Lightning Bolt]-[Flame Bolt]-[Water Bolt]-[Wind Barrier]-[Candleflame]-[Earth Sculpt(Lvl 4)]-[Earth Wave][Runic Enchantment]-[Candleflame Rune][Living Runes]-[Soul Anchor]-[Mana Sight]Skill Points available: 10Titles, Mantles, and Aspects[Worldwalker(Title)] - You have travelled through the void between the many worlds! Every world is different, each with its own gifts and dangers. To help you survive strange new places you gain a slight boost to health and an increased ability to learn new things! (+50 to Health, +50% increased gains to Skill Experience)[Blessed of the Guardian Tree(Title)] - Through an offering of the blood of your enemies you have reawakened the ancient tree! You need never fear its hungry roots! Future offerings or actions that benefit the tree may enhance this Title!Class Traits[Skyclad] You are clad in the sky itself, forfeiting items, clothing, and equipment in exchange for the unrivaled power of purest Sorcery. There are no barriers between you and the magics of the world. Items will no longer equip; in exchange, intangible gains are substantially increased.[Sorceress] Your pathway to magic and power is Sorcery itself. Needing neither incantations nor blood nor prayer, you wield the flows of Mana directly by your own will.
Morgan took in the new status information as her floating dream island began to rise towards the bright circle. Something about it simply felt right, even though it was only now sinking in that included in the deal was nudity. Lifelong nudity, firm and inescapable fact. For some reason she was not quite as bothered by her nakedness as she may have once felt. She had come to an agreement with her innermost primal self, after all.
Well, she thought, it doesn’t matter out here in the Wildlands, and if I finally meet people they’ll just have to get over it!
Lulu has spawned a Brood!
She had no response for yet another brood spawning message other than to just chuckle, which seemed to be echoed by her other-self as the dream refuge rose to the surface. As she approached the glowing circle, Morgan felt that other presence squeeze her mind tightly with a burst of emotions that she could not help but mirror. Satisfaction, anticipation, affection, protectiveness and eager hope, all rolled into one brief mental hug that needed no words to be understood.
Class Framework finalized. Soul Modification Complete.
Activating Selected Class: [Skyclad Sorceress]!
May your Story be Remembered!
Morgan jolted awake on the sun-baked sands where she had fallen. The river was still a few dozen paces away, and the grassy brushline was still at her back, in the shadow of the trees on her side of the water. But as she sat up, her eyes fell upon a loofah armageddon, and shrill purbling war cries matched bestial screams in her ears.
“LULU!” she called, stiffly jerking herself up to her feet. Her body felt like she’d been immobile for days, and she had to pee with a near painful urgency. [Regeneration] seemed to work like an even more enhanced version of [Naked Recovery], and she could tell her body’s fat reserves were slightly diminished, although not to a troubling degree. What was troubling, however, was the death and destruction Morgan could see all around her.
The broad sandy bank of the river resembled nothing so much as a war zone, akin to the beaches of Normandy she had seen in high school history class documentaries. There were craters blown into the sands, bloody bones scattered everywhere, and several different kinds of strange and frightening beasts laying dead and exfoliated all around her for hundreds of paces up and down the riverbank. Like a victorious army, loofahs of every color of the rainbow puffled all over the place, demonstrating magics similar to their hue.
She could do nothing but stare for several moments, mesmerized by the ebb and flow of the oddly colourful and purbling combat. Despite her confusion, she had already pieced together much of what had happened. I’ve been out longer than I thought. It must have been three or four days, at least…
The skeletons of the Lesser Alpha and the Eel-Hydra were gleaming and polished, and a legion of tiny, coin-sized scrubbies scooted its way between other skeletons on the sandy shore. More scrubbies fought several creatures that looked like bigger versions of typical river and forest dwelling creatures.
Morgan tried to take a step towards the swarming frilly madness, wanting to help out, but she found her path blocked by several skeletons. One was a rodent that must have at one time been the [Chittering Murdersquirrel] that had been the first of Lulu’s victims. A vaguely frog-like skeleton and several long bone formations that must have at one point been eels also sprawled around her.
The blood and viscera soaked into the sands seemed to have seeped down to the water, drawing more and more creatures eager to feed. Lulu, in turn, had fed well. The plucky scrubby matriarch was now perched on top of what looked like a lobster or crawdad the size of a Volkswagen, with gleaming swords of chitin for the ends of its many legs and fanning out from its tail.
There were more eels trying to slither up the sands towards the feast of corpses, but the scrubby legion reacted as one organism. Poofy loofahs swarmed any threat as soon as it emerged from the water. Red puffballs glowed with intense heat. Yellow ones crackled with arcs of electricity. Green ones left trails of hissing, caustic cleaning fluids. The scents of ozone and lye soap and charcoal warred with the pungent aromas of days-old corpses the scrubbies had not yet had time to consume.
As one giant eel fell to the sand, still wriggling weakly and not quite dead, the larger loofahs made way to allow the smaller ones to swarm in for the kill. The last thrash of the sparking jaws led to dozens of rippling golden pulses as the smaller loofahs became not quite so small from subduing their foe and leveling up.
Farther down the bank from Morgan, several scrubbies as big as Lulu were furiously consuming the corpse of another eel, and one by one they all swelled up into massive lacey puffballs. With an almost cartoonish sounding fwoomp the first scrubby exploded like a piece of popcorn, sending tiny prismatic puffs outwards as it lost its extra mass and returned to normal. The newly poofed brood of scrubbies immediately began to feed on the dead bodies scattered across the sands. They were soon followed by more fwoomps, and more scrubby cousins.
The river itself was awash with foamy blood and goopy viscera and variously tinted patches of soapy bubbles, and this seemed to be what fueled the constant onslaught of the riverbank invasion.
For spawning ten thousand descendants, Lulu has gained the Title [Loofah Prime: The Scrubby Matriarch]!
A silvery halo briefly appeared over the precocious puffball as Lulu hopped off her dead crustacean perch and began working her way back in Morgan’s direction. Morgan herself had been picking her way towards Lulu, around and over and sometimes through the gleaming, off-white skeletons. The combat all across the riverside sandbar seemed to lull for a moment as she scooped up her murderously adorable friend for a hug. The lavender scented puffball frantically checked to be sure that all of Morgan was still there, zipping across arms to hands and hopping down to check toes and feet before making its way back up to perch on her shoulder, purbling in relief.
As she walked towards the water’s edge, Morgan felt for her magic, and found it eagerly responsive. With a touch of willpower and Mana, she pulled a globe of water up from the river. The greater ease with which the magic flowed in and around her was simply astounding. She could feel the impurities in the water as well, and expelled the blood and filth from her globular acquisition before sipping from the floating sphere.
“This is amazing, Lulu!” she exclaimed to the scrubby that was, once again, happily perched on her shoulder. Letting go of the ball of water with a splash, she held up her hands and pulled Lightning Mana out of the air around her. She let it dance around and between her fingers like a crackling purple game of cat’s cradle. “My magic doesn’t hurt me anymore, Lulu! It’s like it’s all natural now!”
She paused for a few seconds before chuckling and shaking her head. “Heh, all natural, au naturale, I guess it comes with the territory now.”
The attacking creatures seemed to have vanished for some reason Morgan could not detect, but with her newly attuned instincts giving faint tingly warnings she headed away from the water. She turned to the most recently deceased eel and, when her instinct skill reassured her it was indeed edible, tore a large chunk of the fishy white flesh away with her bare hands. She was not starving, but she was quite hungry.
With an improvised usage of her [Wind Barrier] spell, she held the roughly torn eel filet suspended in mid-air and cooked it with a careful application of [Candleflame] while she sat on the lobster-like carapace that had previously been Lulu’s matriarchal throne. The sound of purbles and warbles and trilling purrs surrounded her, and she simply stared at Lulu’s progeny with incredulity as she ate.
“I wasn’t ready to be a grandma, girl.”
Lulu’s only response was a haughty puffling shake before going back to working through Morgan’s hair, which had become encrusted with sand and grit while she lay still for several days. She finished off her roasted eel and suddenly remembered her tattoos.
Jumping up and nearly dislodging a protesting loofah, Morgan drew another ball of pure water from the river. With a brief struggle of will that was more about visualizing exactly what she wanted and less about the power required to do it, the sphere of liquid flattened out into a spinning shimmering disk.
Her reflection in the improvised mirror was utterly striking. She stood naked on the sand, with a proud, confident stance she had not even realized she had grown into. The diminutive, withdrawn posture of the waitress she used to be was gone. The image she now saw was a strong, fit example of unapologetic femininity and strength. Shoulders back, hair wild, and standing tall on bare feet. “Totally not giving any fucks, Lulu,” she said. “Hah! I couldn’t equip a fuck to give it!”
With a wry chuckle, she pulled the mirror closer to inspect her enchanted tattoos. In the center of her chest just below where her collarbones came close together was a simple divided circle tattoo. The two halves of the shiny indigo disk had a thin gap of separation between them, but at the center of the circle they seemed to twist together like a lock.
Two hair-thin lines of deep purple inked their way upwards, one from each side of the circle. They pulled close together to trace their way through the narrow indentation between her collarbones, then turned outwards to curl up the sides of her neck and behind her ears. The lines re-emerged from her hair on either side to connect the [Soul Anchor] to the [Mana Sight] Living Rune.
The tattoo for [Mana Sight] struck Morgan as hauntingly beautiful, and reminded her of Celtic woad designs and other tribal imagery. The thin connecting lines split at her temples and wove an intricate, narrow belt across her eyes in a matte indigo color. The tattooing even covered her eyelids, and she made awkward faces at herself by closing one eye and trying to inspect its lid with the other eyeball.
Her moment of self-reflection and study was brought to a halt sooner than she would have liked. Thunder rumbled ominously to the south, despite the bright sunny day. She had been wondering what could have scared off the local critters that had been fighting over the buffet of dead creatures all around, and now it made its appearance.
The legions of loofah scrubbies began purbling with nervousness and making their way back into the brush and trees away from the water, but Morgan stood her ground. Her instincts were less fearful and more watchful, as the marshy stretch of the river in the southern distance was covered in low thunderclouds centered over a single large shadow. As the localized storm front crept up the river towards their location, Morgan activated her [Mana Sight] tattoo and, with her vision now piercing the clouds to see the currents of Mana within, the source was revealed in all its fearsome magical detail.
The center of the small storm was almost directly above a most distinctive creature that Morgan had no trouble at all naming. “Good Lord, Lulu! It’s an ACTUAL hydra! Seven heads and all!”
The loofah simply puffled with a complete lack of being impressed by that statement, which Morgan could actually understand given the loofah’s recent record-setting bout of reproduction. The hydra appeared to be quite a bit smaller than the electric eel-hydra had been, but it more than made up for that with powerful front limbs that pulled it through the marshy waters and mud of the lower section of the river.
In addition to sheer strength, the magic was obvious. Morgan could make out giant eddies of Water, Air, and Lightning Mana swirling in the clouds above the approaching monster. And another type of Mana was visible to her rune-enhanced vision, a type she had not yet experimented with herself. This new Mana seemed to form concentrated knots in the upper layers of the storm and then zip downwards, propelled by the winds and the Air and Water Mana to incredible speeds to then hit the mud with thumping, wet sounds of impact.
Holding up her hand, Morgan copied the knot of strange new Mana she could see in the hydra’s hovering storm clouds. Within moments, a sphere of ice drew in all the moisture around her hand as it swelled into existence. It froze to her hand, but that proved a benefit as the entire process rewarded her with a spell, a resistance, and an affinity within a handful of heartbeats.
You have learned the spell [Hailstone]! One or two may not do much, but a storm of hundreds can be deadly! Form a ball of ice with Frost Mana. Multiple [Hail Stone] spells may be cast simultaneously, at a proportional cost.
You have gained the skill [Frost Resistance]!
You have gained the skill [Frost Affinity]!
Morgan cackled suddenly, but did not flee the approaching beast. “Lulu…” she said between gasps of laughter. “It’s a Hail-Hydra…”
She laughed so hard it hurt, and still she did not flee. The scrubby on her shoulder seemed perfectly calm, and instead of fear, her instincts were telling her that the hydra would be quite tasty indeed. The urge to test out her new class limits and this newly responsive and intuitive use of magic was overwhelming; and, she admitted to herself, both me and my inner me have some issues that would be good to get worked out.
Her caloric reserves were almost fully replenished by the magically broiled eel she had consumed. Her Health and resource pools were all full, and she felt physically better, more alive, than she had ever since appearing in this world.
Morgan stretched her arms above her head and twisted from side to side as if she were merely preparing for an exercise session, then cracked her neck and then her knuckles. The [Skyclad Sorceress] wanted to play, and one unfortunately tasty-looking Hydra had picked the wrong time to appear.
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 12: [Skyclad Sorceress]",
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Rella, former orphaned streetrat, later temple-girl and currently the [Oracle], huddled under the blankets in a farmer's cart as it wound its way through the hills approaching the small town of Brackholt. She had carefully avoided any temples or larger settlements as she travelled. Some stops in small villages to send messages had been necessary, but for the most powerful precognitive on the continent, it was a trivial matter to avoid Deskren patrols and slip in and out of such places. She had sent several parcels to various destinations; leaving instructions and personal foretelling advice for those willing to help the new [Oracle] as payment for sending her missives.
Her new Class -- both Mantle and a Title as one, and singularly unique in all the world -- had not been kind to her since the Purple Night. It was only under the aegis of her predecessors, souls contained within the Mantle of Prophecy, that she was still sane at all. Least of her concerns was that she could no longer sleep; the shared consciousness of the previous [Oracles] bore the burden for a few hours each night to allow her some semblance of rest, but their ability to do so was fading faster than Rella was learning to control the visions that constantly bombarded her mind.
We may have to attempt more dangerous methods of training, girl, said a familiar and comforting voice in her mind. The previous [Oracle] still retained the strongest form of personality of all the others. The further back in time a given [Oracle] had lived, the fainter their individual presence, and the more they faded into the gestalt. The more ancient ones were beyond the ability to speak, merely sending images or memories of emotions. They stayed in a dreamlike state, the worlds they had lived and died in so lost to time that little could stir them to break their own slumber.
Images cascaded through her thoughts in a never-ending stream, and she still could not manage to partition them away from her conscious mind. Glimpses of the Wildwall -- the mountains that separated the Western Nations from the Wildlands -- overlapped with scenes from the western shore of the continent. Situations occurring up in the frozen north vied with the growing number of disturbances in the Southern Elemental Desert -- the sandy barrier separating the Kingdoms from the Deskren Empire. She was a prisoner of her own visions, seeing almost everything and able to see nothing. With a bit of conscious effort, she could follow one chain of action and choice or another into the past. The future remained a blur, however.
The gestalt of the thousands of women held within the mantle was the only thing buffering her mind against the full impact of trying to funnel so much information through one person. I’m not learning fast enough, Rella told the others inside the mindscape.
The world can’t afford an insane [Oracle] right now, replied one of the women.
You must appoint a Champion, a protector to stand guard over your body while we take you deeper into the mindscape, said another woman, her form seeming more childlike. That one must have acquired the mantle extremely young and died young as well, Rella realized with a bit of sadness.
Don’t cry for me, kid, said the girl. It’s not like it’s lonely or boring here; if I’m not upset about it, you have no right to be either.
And older woman stepped forward from the quiet crowd of souls. Once you have your protector, we can take you back to the Elders. Time flows differently for them that sleep so deep within the Mantle, and you must secure protection for your body while you are under.
And not for just a few hours or days, either, said the girl-child. You could be under for more than a week. Much longer than Class Selection.
The Mantle has passed between women without a Class, and women of so many different Classes over the ages, the older one told Rella. You must learn to hold back the sight to protect yourself, before you can partake of our other gifts.
One of the older [Oracles] spoke up then: Eventually, you'll be able to use any Skill any of us ever learned, but only one at a time.
Well, that would be handy to have known a bit earlier, thought Rella at the other women.
The girl gave her the thought equivalent of a mocking snort. You can't even control the Sight yet, don't get ahead of yourself.
I should be arriving in Brackholt in- Rella withdrew from the mind-space and allowed her senses to be swamped with all the local possibilities and current circumstances happening for several miles around her; nauseating confusion nearly overwhelmed her for a moment before she regained her bearings and returned to the half-dream- about two hours.
You’ll have to endure the chaos until then if you want us rested enough to act as a buffer while you are in the town, explained her predecessor.
I do, replied Rella. I could probably get my Champion to agree out of pity if I collapse in front of him, but everything I’ve seen says that is a bad idea for the long run. I want his respect, not his sympathy.
Don’t be silly here, said the child-[Oracle]. We dream your dreams too. You’re hoping he’ll be your lover one day, and if he pities you that will never happen, and we all know it.
As Rella blushed and cringed inwardly, the previous [Oracle] scolded the younger girl with the mental image of twisting her ear. That was unkind. All of us suffer enough during our tenure. Leave her some chance at whimsy and romance without teasing!
It’s okay, the current [Oracle] sent back at the others. All of you, rest, please. I can deal with a headache for a couple of hours so you can help me again when I reach Brackholt.
The girl radiated feelings of chagrin and apology as Rella left the mindscape and brought herself back to the waking world. The wagon trundled along pulled by the farmer’s mule, and her abilities gave her the distinct pleasure of experiencing every bump and jostling impact a few seconds early, before feeling them again in real-time.
Rella sat up, digging some jerky and a waterskin out of her pack. By the time she had resettled herself in the back of the cart, the protective mental shield provided by the past [Oracles] had faded from her mind.
The farmer noticed her movements, and called back to her. “Just a few more miles, Miss. You just rest up and we be there by noon.”
“Thank you,” she replied around a mouthful of too-spicy jerky before washing it down with a few gulps of water.
“No thanks needed. The [Oracle]’s word on what to plant on what day for a bumper crop come harvest is worth more than a trip to Brackholt. You just sit comfy, an’ ol’ Hett’ll gitchee there.”
Grateful for the farmer’s help, Rella settled back into the wagon to make herself as comfortable as she could manage with the impending headache already worming its way between her eyes. As she lay her head back on her pack and secured a strip of cloth over her eyes to block out the daylight, the [Oracle] began to See. Slowly, at first, and then with increasing speed her awareness spread. Starting within the few hundred yards around the wagon, her perception expanded as the power of the previous mantle-bearers faded away.
At first, things were bearable. What triggered the gifts of the Mantle were choices and actions, and the greater the effect of the choice the more sharply her attention was pulled towards the possible outcomes. The region through which she traveled was thankfully less densely-populated than most, which meant she had less information flooding into her mind at first. But even then, it was not exactly pleasant. The primary function of an [Oracle] was to bear witness, and thus she witnessed.
She saw people going about their lives, making choices both mundane and of great import. She saw good works and evil ones. She saw a man shove a child out of the way of a startled horse, a bitter wife drop poison into her husband’s food, and a pair of builders decide to lay the foundation for a new mill on a different plot of land than they had originally planned. The new location was a mistake; within four months of the building's completion the nearby bank would erode into the river and topple the structure as its foundation washed away.
Rella was also not spared the sheer, disgusting obscenity of everything unmentionable. As the area she could See spread further, she witnessed murders, rapes, depravities and deaths. To all of the horrors that people inflicted upon themselves and each other, the [Oracle] bore witness. Her heart broke with every anguished sob.
But it also soared, for not all was horrible and dark. A maiden wrapped her legs around her lover and gave in to passion’s first kiss. A man and wife held their newborn child and wept for joy. A woodcarver finished the last touches on a masterpiece and stood back to admire it. A group of adventurers defeated their first higher-leveled monster, wounded but victorious and proud. Fortunes were made, fates were sealed; people tasted the sweetness of victories both great and small, and the bitter flavors of defeat in all its forms.
Most things she saw, Rella knew she would never be able to allow the knowledge to pass her lips, nor write it down, or share it in any fashion. The [Oracle] stood as Witness to the world, not as its judge or jury. The Sight began to blur as her range surpassed a thousand leagues, every action and choice spiralling out with possible futures and outcomes that shifted in time with the different choices people made.
Some places were beyond even her ability to see; the Elemental Desert and the bulk of the Deskren Empire were shrouded in phantasmal, turbulent mists. Unfortunately, she could clearly see their legions marching north, out of the sandy dunes, and had borne mute witness to the fall of South Hollows and the subjugation of hundreds of surrounding farms and smaller settlements.
The Deskren were still hundreds of miles south of Brackholt, although the northern cities were already arming themselves for full-scale war. Rella’s current destination sat halfway between Meadowspire and West Harbor, in the southern hills of the Golden Meadows. Thinking about the place shifted her Sight, revealing a busy little town with hastily-erected palisades and rough stone fortifications, mortar not yet dry. To one side of the town, an older and more properly-built stone structure with a watchtower and barracks sat bracketing a training yard. Rella could see the focus of her current plans training in heavy armor with a large shield and a mace. His face was obscured, but she had observed him often during the weeks since she took up the Mantle of Prophecy. He faced off against four opponents and, despite being outnumbered, acquitted himself well. Two girls with identical faces and matching pale golden hair sat on the fence around the training yard, watching their brother and tossing colored balls of light back and forth as if playing a game.
A breaking wave in the sea of probabilities pulled her vision far to the west, past the coastline and to Stormbreak Isle. There, she watched Constable Zizzy as she stalked between two villages trying to catch her quarry before he claimed a new victim. Rella knew she would fail to catch him today, and that the experience would change the succubus forever. The [Oracle] hoped the succubus would not give up, however. She had lent the demon Constable all the help she could for now, though she desperately wished she could do more.
Crafting the Seal had left her hand paralyzed for days and her very Soul raw and ravaged for even longer before it healed. The price of changing fate was a heavy one indeed. Doing so had cost her predecessor her physical sight for longer and longer periods of time with each Seal she created, until one day, she saw no more. It seemed that Rella’s price would be paralysis, and she was not looking forward to having to make such a sacrifice. But the inevitability of needing to use her powers made her current quest for a Champion all the more important. Using her primary skills as the [Oracle] would leave her helpless for longer and longer periods of time; having a stalwart defender to guard her during those times would be critical. Not all [Oracles] appointed a Champion, but the ones that did had tended to live longer and accomplish more.
Pulled by forces she could not yet comprehend, Rella’s Sight swung to the far northern reaches, where another Worldwalker ran fleet-footed across the tundra, side-by-side with several Wolven Beastmen. She recognized the sigils of his escorts; they belonged to a particularly insular clan of Beastmen, not known for charity or compassion. Clearly, the Hammer had had a rough start, but just as clearly had thrived.
Vainly she sought the Dreamer next; unfortunately, he was lost to her Sight. What little was revealed to her on the Purple Night suggested he had arrived in Deskren-controlled territory, and their rapid mobilization north of the Elemental Desert admitted to the possibility that he had been collared; the Deskren would not be so rash without a perceived advantage. Partly, this was due to the logistical effort involved; more importantly, the greater the threat the Deskren posed, the more directly an [Oracle] would be permitted to move against them.
The Shadow currently prowled the rooftops and shadowed streets of Meadowspire, and while Rella saw seeds of greatness in her future, they were just that at the moment: seeds, waiting to germinate. Similar to the Shadow was The Preacher, tending to wounded and helping feed children in the wake of the Deskren raid on possibility. The Christian faith was not foreign to the collective memory of the [Oracle]; previous Worldwalkers had been adherents, but the religion had never found a firm foothold. In the Preacher, though, Rella could sense the possibility of change.
This stood in stark contrast to the works of the Harlot, which -- even through the lens of Prophecy -- left Rella breathless. The otherworldly prostitute had hit the less reputable underbelly of the city with the grace of a charging bull while spending most of her time flat on her back or twisted like a pretzel, ruthlessly trading her body and skills with pleasure to gain allies and coin, which she used to further her own ends. Less than a fortnight after arriving on Anfealt, the woman had taken over three entire pleasure guilds, toppled a smuggling and extortion organization, and preemptively secured the services of every assassin and hired killer in the city to quietly silence the rest of her competition. With most of the city guard getting free or reduced cost services from The Harlot’s employed girls, anyone who harmed a pleasure worker in East Harbor quickly found themselves in said harbor.
The Broken continued to astound Rella at every turn, both with her current activities and her possible futures. She could see myriad designs pouring out from the woman’s workshop in the future, and the [Oracle] knew that once she achieved mastery of her Class, she would revolutionize the fields of Golemancy and Engineering. Despite Rella’s only budding gifts, she foresaw one certainty as though it were etched in stone: barring those timelines where she met an untimely end, the Broken would bring flying ships to Anfealt. Beyond that titanic event, possibilities branched and re-branched, bringing events both terrible and wonderful.
The closer to the Wildlands she tried to see, the more painful and difficult it was to discern things with her Sight. While the Elemental Desert simply seemed empty, gazing into the Wildlands was like looking into a boiling storm of mists and flame. The background intensity of everything that lived in that massive region simply drowned out any chance of making out detail, but she still could discern flashes here and there. Moments where one color or flavor of Soul or Mana energy flared strong enough to drown out the rest of the sea of chaos. And more and more, those flashes were a bright and violent purple. Thus, she knew the Burning Woman was still alive, and moving through the Wildlands, even if she had received no prophetic revelations or another True Vision since that fateful night.
The wagon rolled along, gently rocking back and forth in the rolling ruts of the old road. Rella soon found her Sight pulled, as though a magnet were drawing her, to a familiar convoy of wagons and horses and travellers on foot. She had seen the convoy several times, each instance noting how much the caravan had grown over the course of a few short weeks. The convoy had circled up and dug in, the extent of their fortifications indicating they had remained in place for some time.
At first, it seemed that the roving band of refugees had finally run out of luck; a large group of Deskren slave-soldiers had caught up with them, and battle had been joined. No ragtag mob, the slaves fought as a coordinated entity, higher-ranked slaves providing tactical direction to their underlings. Unlike the the control collars that Rella had seen on the Purple Night, these were the more common conditioning collars used by the Deskren on their born slaves. Instead of the sickeningly yellow greasy aura of the control collars, these collars were much simpler, relying on sensory stimulus, reward and punishment to control their wearers. But, when you raised a person from birth with such a device around their necks, the results were as certain as they were with the more rare Soul Collars. Such distinctions mattered little to the victims under attack, and if Rella had not borne the gifts of her Mantle she would have written the caravan off as lost without a second thought. As it was, however, she Watched and waited.
WIth her Sight, she saw the refugees slaughtering the attacking force. The General was not on the field of battle, but she watched his wife, the [Hand of Solace], walk with purpose behind the lines. In her wake, wounds healed; broken bones reset themselves; exhausted fighters regained stamina, and drained mages recovered their Mana so rapidly it was visible to the naked eye as sparks and glowing auras.
While they fought, Rella watched and waited as mystical energies, invisible to all but a select few, swirled and eddied over one particular wagon, then lanced downward to disappear beneath its roof.
So, he’s finally Chosen, she thought.
The aura of the wagon changed. Gone were the energies of the System, replaced now with shadow and dread, a near-tangible presence that caused refugee and slave-soldier alike to shy away. Nearby, a horse screamed, breaking free of its tether and charging towards the wagon. Eyes wild and mouth frothing, it raced for its master, heedless of those throwing themselves out of its path.
The man himself emerged from the wagon, barking orders to those around him as his mount drew to his side, seeming to swell in all dimensions until it seemed a fitting companion for what the man had become.
When he swung himself into his saddle Rella felt the world relax, as though something terribly wrong had, at long last, been set right.
Man and mount turned then, and without prompting, streaked away. He reached out and snagged a lance from a weapons rack as he passed, the haft darkening at his touch. Blackness like liquid shadow spread to either end, and it seemed to grow longer and deadlier of its own accord. He had not donned his armor before mounting his steed, and yet the shadows wrapped around his and his horse’s bodies, solidifying into a dark projection that was just as solid as actual steel.
Behind him, as if drawn by naught but his will, riders fell in beside him. In the span of mere moments, the disparate individuals transformed into a single entity, a combined charge roaring with a single voice.
And when the mounted charge barreled into the Deskren offensive, led by the dread man, wielding his dread lance, Rella knew the battle was done, her vision pulling itself at last from the field of battle as the cart jerked to a rough stop. She had been under for several hours while the farmer made his way to the city, although it seemed like only a moment and like an eternity at the same time.
“We’s almost to the city, lass,” said Hett. “They be searchin’ every wagon goes into the city on ‘count of the Deskren and bandits, so this’ll be as far as I can take ya. Any further, we may’s well just ‘nounce you all ‘fficial-like.”
We are here, as well, came the thought from the [Oracles] past, as the pressure of the Sight faded from her mind. Rella sat with her head in her hands in the back of the wagon for several moments, waiting for the pain to fade away as well. We can give you a few hours unburdened, but remember the costs.
“Thank you, mister Hett. Be sure to take the eastern fork of the old road on your way back; the shorter path to the south has some brigands camping near it.”
The old farmer thanked her for the warning and maneuvered his wagon around, heading back the way he had brought her. She knew he would not heed her advice this time, and that there would be one less group of thieves wandering the hills come the next day. Many a band of ruffians met their ends at the hands of old and grumpy Classers, and Rella had definitely noticed the well-oiled and meticulously sharpened axe under Hett’s wagon seat. Skills to cleave a stump in twain to clear a farmer’s field also worked impressively well on people, after all.
Shouldering her small travel pack and hooking her waterskin to her belt, Rella made her way through the low scrub near the city’s edge, her precognitive abilities helping her to make better time. When you could know for a fact that nobody was looking at a given spot, you could stroll right through a guarded perimeter. The patrols she had to dodge in order to get into the town itself were only a little bit trickier than the earlier approach.
Meaty impacts, the rattle of steel against steel, and cries of exertion led her as surely as her Sight did as she approached the training barracks and its fenced-in arena. Her potential future Champion was done with his own round of mock combat and stood by a water trough. His shield was propped up against a fence post and two younger men were helping him out of his armor. The young man’s sisters, The Twins, sat by, tossing orbs of light between themselves while surreptitiously eyeing the various shirtless boys and men beating each other with dulled training weapons in the corral. Rella kept to the shadows under the roof that covered the area encircling the training grounds, listening and watching while she waited for the right time to introduce herself.
“I’m telling you, Jargo: the boy will break, Worldwalker or not,” said a dark-haired man in dirty leathers to a shorter man with distinguished grey in his beard. “He refuses to commit himself; all he does is defend.”
“Defend is all he has to do, really. Once the boy plants his feet, that shield is like a stone wall.” The shorter man was rubbing one hand with the other, and stopped to shake his arm to work the circulation back into it. “I know that personally, Bill. I beat that boy’s shield for over an hour til my arm gave out, and he wasn’t even tired. He won’t break when he stands in a shieldwall.”
“I’m sayin’ if he won’t hit back he’s a coward, and cowards break and run.”
An elder man with wispy grey hair had been listening to their banter in silence. This new observer watched as the subject of their conversation had stripped the last of his armor off, as well as his shirt, to wash himself in the water trough. Scars criss-crossed the young man’s chest and arms. His face was the charming kind of ugly granted by a nose broken more than once and a crooked brow that left one eye in a half-squint. Every time his gaze passed over the place where his sisters sat perched on the fence his expression of intense focus softened to a tender protectiveness.
He knows what it means to get hit, and get hurt, thought Rella to herself, and then a girlish flutter flipped her belly upside-down. But there is still kindness in him too…
The first two men, Jargo and Bill, continued to banter and grumble at each other with good-natured rivalry. “I’m tellin’ you, Jargo, I’ll put a month’s wages down that he breaks on the first charge when he’s in the line.”
“Two months’ says he holds, old coot,” replied the shorter man, placing a gold coin on the fencepost between them.
The much taller and much older veteran broke in at that moment, his quiet raspy voice cutting through the noises on the training ground. “The boy won’t break, ever,” said the ancient Classer before spitting a wad of tobacco on the ground.
“What makes you say that, Cid?” asked Bill, still not convinced the boy was not a coward at heart.
“I don’t see no scars on his back. The boy ain’t never run, an’ he never will.”
Rella could not help but giggle, catching the attention of the three men. She stepped forward, letting her hood fall back to reveal the silvery glowing eyes of the [Oracle]. “Cid is right,” she spoke quietly to the three men. “The [Anvil-Heart Guardian] does not run, nor does he know how to yield.”
Recognition of who and what she was struck all three men like a bolt of lightning. Jargo and Bill stood up straight and placed a hand over their hearts before giving a quick and respectful bow. The older Cid took a half-step back to cover the previously-spat tobacco with his foot, giving a reverent nod of his head. The Twins game of juggled lights came to a halt as they turned to look at Rella as one, the half-dozen colored balls of energy fizzing out as they hit the ground. Their brother, The Fortress as he had been named by the previous [Oracle], followed their gaze and Rella felt her heart skip a beat when he finally noticed her.
She stepped forward and rested one hand on the fence, about to speak to introduce herself, when she felt a pull far to the east, ripping her attention away from her current location despite the efforts of the past [Oracles]’s gestalt to keep her buffered from such visions. A True Vision could not be prevented. Rella’s mind was pulled away, and she Saw.
She saw the burning woman again, standing in the center of an inferno of lightning and molten stone. Beasts of all kinds fled the storm, but few escaped. The woman raised her arms, magma flowing up around her in a maelstrom over a thousand feet tall before Rella’s vision was kicked back, away from the storm. At the same time that she saw, the [Oracle] also spoke.
“She burns! Sparks in the marrow to ignite the Burning Light! Her Life is the Fire and Fire is her Life! She burns!”
And then the vision ended, the [Oracle]’s words trailing into a heavy silence. Rella felt the presence of the dead [Oracles] fade away within the Mantle, even more exhausted than she herself was. She collapsed against the fence, barely able to hold herself up. Dizziness spun her vision in circles for a moment and just before her knees gave way completely, she looked the Fortress in the eyes.
“Hi. I’m Rella.”
And then she fell unconscious, the blackness rising up to greet her mind with welcoming arms.
|
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|
Morgan Mackenzie savored the sensation of the valley winds against her skin. The trip back to her valley had taken almost two weeks, and would have taken much longer without the Titan to help clear the path for the wagons and Dana’s mobile workshop. One disadvantage to her father’s current form, she now understood to be similar to her own reliance on food: he had to eat a lot, and frequently. Fortunately, Maxwell Mackenzie had been an extreme example of pragmatism even on Earth, and he was not picky about the origin of his nutrition.
The Titan’s eating habits had been disturbing, at first, for the travellers with the Expedition to see. The vines that trailed down his back writhed and roiled as he lumbered along. Trunks that he uprooted and cast aside to clear the path caused hordes of smaller wildlife to flee, and his vines danced a remorseless rhythm. They speared outwards as if they had minds of their own, lancing into [Tyrannorabbits], [Murdersquirrels], and dozens of other species Morgan hadn’t yet learned the name for.
The Titan had fed as he walked, Morgan riding on one shoulder. She’d stood tall, balancing herself against a massive spike of crystal, reminding her of the times she’d perched on her father as a child, laughing gaily. Time had changed them both -- him more than her -- so the nostalgia was short-lived, but welcome. Their trek had not gone uncontested, either. Even with the massive form of the Titan leading the way, smaller creatures fled and larger creatures were drawn to his hulking form.
Such larger creatures had suffered the same fate as their smaller brethren, finding their way into that impossible ogrish maw with the same ease with which he consumed everything else. Morgan now understood all too well why so many hordes of beasts fled from his wake to cause what the others had told her was known as a “migration year.”
Letting the Expedition into her valley had been a bit of an ordeal: the Titan’s prodigious caloric needs had faded upon crossing the threshold of her magical barriers, once she had convinced him not to just walk through and wreck her enchantments. It seemed he simply needed energy, and the prodigious concentrations of Mana in her valley worked just as well as meat to sustain him. He had stood near the shore of the small lake, looking at her spire for what seemed like hours, vines and roots working their way into the earth. She watched with no small degree of nervousness; if her workings reached down too close to the ley lines, she knew he would tear it down. So it was to her relief that, with a bassy rumble, he had finally declared it good before lumbering down the shore to wallow in the mud.
“Is he using a tree for a back-scratcher?” Dana had asked as she approached, still looking green around the gills from the excess mana in the atmosphere of Morgan’s valley. It had been almost a full day, and most of the Expedition still had not acclimated. Biggles had informed her that it would likely pass in a few more days’ time, especially as the work began on the airship.
“Yeah, he is…” Morgan responded. “Are you sure you want to do this? Build them a flying ship, I mean…”
The metal-clad woman looked back down the valley, where several Dwarves were overseeing the construction of scaffolding from fresh-hewn timber. “I’ve been thinking about it,” she said, unphased by the more serious turn of the conversation. “It changes a lot of things, but I realize now that it was inevitable. There are more Worldwalkers than just you and me, and it was only a matter of time before we started to really shake things up.”
“Why does that make you so sad?”
“It means I can’t go back to Thun’Kadrass,” she explained. “You’re good with magic, and the one they call The General is some kind of military officer, I’m sure of it. There’s no telling what the Twins or the Hammer or The Shadow can do, but sure as shit you can bet the Dreamer is gonna give stuff to the Deskren.”
Morgan thought in silence for several moments. “But you build things, weapons, and now a flying ship. Everyone will want you.” Another thought came unbidden. “And me, too.”
“They’ll want to control us, and if they can’t do that…” Dana frowned. “...They’ll want to kill us. The ship is merely the beginning of an arms race. Magic and science, together? There’ll be no way to just skate by once things get rolling, Morgan.”
“Can you do it? Can you stay ahead of this arms race?”
Dana shook her head. “It’s not about staying ahead. That’s only possible in the short term. Once we fly across the mountains, it’s game on. A few years, maybe a decade. Two decades would be some really long odds.”
“Not following you here,” said Morgan, shaking her hair back to make room for a wurbling Lulu who had just hopped back to her shoulder.
“We don’t have to stay ahead forever. After things trickle out, and the other nations get a hold of it, they’ll start iterating on my work, and it becomes quantity over quality.” The engineer spoke absentmindedly, sketching on a clipboard while she rambled. “The real trick is to stay alive and free until we’re less valuable to the different nations, and that’s gonna be hard until that iteration starts happening. It means becoming powerful enough that nobody can challenge us head on, and doing that fast.”
“And the airship is the first step?” Morgan asked.
Dana raised a finger. “Ships, plural. I’ve done some research, and you would think a magical world would have this kinda thing already.” Dana drew more lines on her parchment with broad swift strokes, filling out a design Morgan couldn’t quite make out. “This is just the first one, a working prototype -- big and ugly and slow, but I can get us off the ground. You can make Witchwood really strong with simple enchantments, and I think we can even use the leaves to weave the gas bags.” She paused in her efforts, glancing up at Morgan. “Flight is one of those things, y’know? It’s like the wheel, or electricity; it’s one of the big game changers, when you can point to the timeline of history after the fact and see huge jumps in civilization and progress.”
“And war, too.”
Sighing, Dana went back to her clipboard. “Yep, and war. Sad thing is, war and conflict drives the most progress, and the nations are going to war whether we help out or not. It’s not just the tech we give away that’s going to change things, either. Just by seeing a flying ship, others will work to copy it and learn how to do it. Same with anything. If not the Dwarves or the northern countries, the Deskren will for sure. We have to deal with them, even if it means arming everyone else.”
Morgan shuddered her agreement. “Those collars are sick. Disgusting!”
“So yeah,” Dana said, flipping her clipboard and parchment around. On it was a rough sketch of an ugly, boxy-looking barge of a ship with several globes that resembled hot air balloons nestled in a row down the center like peas in a pod. “It’s big, nearly six hundred feet long to get all of us on board with the necessary supplies and food. It’ll be slow unless we catch a good tailwind, but I can get us out of the Wildlands, and then we need to find a way to not be stuck working in a shop for some king or queen while I work on better designs.”
“I can help you work out the enchantments, and my dad can drag as many trees as you need up here. But I think I’ll be leaving in a week or two, especially after this little chat…”
Dana’s mouth dropped open, and she tapped her clipboard with her pen. “What!? We just got here, and it’ll take a month just to lay the keel and frame out the structure! We need you!”
“Once the magic is worked out, you actually won’t need me, and there’s something I need to do,” answered the Sorceress, her words punctuated by the chill northern winds.
Dana simply stared, at a loss for words, before Morgan continued.
“It’s time for me to get some wings of my own.”
====================================================
Over a thousand miles away from one very naked sorceress and her newfound friends, a massive, inky-black shape descended from the evening sky. A giant raven, talons outstretched, flapped its wings with lazy nonchalance as it dropped the last few feet to the flagstones of an ancient courtyard before the feathered shape dwindled, resolving into the form of an old woman leaning on a gnarled wooden cane. Smaller feathered forms flapped and screeched, fighting for space to perch upon the surrounding stone rooftops and the few sparse trees populating the bits of bare earthen gaps in the paving stones. Moghren chuckled, pacing forward with her stick for balance as she approached a stone table nearly thirty feet across.
Shadowy forms darted back and forth above the courtyard, filling the air with their mournful cries. Shards of midnight drifted down like dark snow in their wake to land on the table. “Yes, little ones,” the old crone said, “we know she’s coming back.”
Upon the table lay a framework wrought in sinew and bone, to which Moghren added a small piece pulled from a satchel at her waist. It had been an engaging task, consuming the bulk of her attention over the past summer. The fruits of her efforts lay before her, and she paced a circle around the table, observing it.
“Learn and grow, we told her,” she said to her companions.
From around her, the ravens cawed, and eerie echoes of her words were cast back at her from the shadows. Far from being unsettled, the woman seemed to draw comfort from the sound. From another pouch she produced a tiny bone needle, wickedly sharp, and threaded it with a strand of inky-black hair from her own head. She worked through the last light of the day, and well into the night as the two moons rose in the east casting dappled shadows across the table. One by one, more feathers joined those already stitched to the framework, slowly revealing itself to be a pair of great wings. She stepped back some hours later, looking at the nearly finished appendages.
“It still needs...something more, I think.”
With a blur and a wave of power, a giant raven stood where the woman had been. A few moments of cold regard through inhuman eyes, looking down at the construct of bone and feathers, and the oversized corvid shook its head before burying its beak in its feathers. A few jerks of its head and a mighty disgruntled caw later, several feathers fell, many times larger than those gifted by its smaller relatives. Another shiver of power rolled through the courtyard, and Moghren once again stood in the same place, stooping down to reverently retrieve the feathers from the ground.
“A gift, a price, and a bargain. Which do you think she shall choose?” she wondered, returning her attention to the wings.
The croaking and caws of the ravens were her only answer, but Moghren thought that was well enough.
===============================================
Belka Torm cast an apprehensive eye towards the clouds far to the northwest, weighing his options as his hired hands readied the wagons and prepared to break camp after another night on the road. They had left Fort Expedition in haste when word of the approaching Deskren had reached the city. They had been on the road for just over two weeks with no sign of Deskren forces, but still, he slept with one eye open. He likely wouldn’t rest well until they crossed the border into Forvale and pulled his wagons in behind solid stone walls, but even that was doubtful.
The storm worried him. The cool winds of autumn were no trouble, but the approaching winter meant that pleasant breeze could turn bitingly cold at the drop of a hat with no warning. If it weren’t for the invading slavers, he would have turned his wagons off the road to wait out the storm. As it was, fear drove him to continue another few days at least, hoping to reach a settlement in the eastern reaches of Forvale where he could hunker down and wait.
Sudden shouting from the covered wagon where his wife still slept drew his attention. The morning was early yet, and it would have been another hour before they were ready to actually move. He had let her sleep, as dreams of ill omen had been troubling his spouse since before they left Fort Expedition. It was there, in the dream, that her nascent talent at divination manifested best, which had been what spurred him to abandon his profit and flee the city.
“Get everyone off the road!” Laren Torm was panicked, suddenly screaming at everyone. “Belka! Get the wagons off the road! We have to get out of the way!”
“We’re just about ready to get moving, what are you on about now!?”
“Get. Off. The. Road!” she screamed in his face. “They won’t stop for us! We’ll all be trampled!”
Belka Torm was many things, but a fool was, he hoped, not one of them. His wife’s dreams had led him to many a profitable venture, but more often had helped him dodge disasters. He wasted no more time, joining his workers in leading horses and their wagons off the road into the grassy fields to one side. They had barely cleared the road when the winds picked up, stormclouds suddenly darkening the skies. Thunder rumbled in the distance, strongly enough he could feel it through the soles of his boots more than he could hear it in the air.
“That’s not thunder,” said Laren, standing nervously beside him. “Or at least, it’s not just thunder. They’re coming.”
“Who?”
Laren shook her head helplessly. “Red eyes and one arm, thunder under the banner; the dream wasn’t any more clear than that, except that we’d have been crushed if we stayed on the road.”
Belka didn’t argue with her. His wife didn’t have true dreams often, but when she did, he knew better than to invite tragedy by protesting. They didn’t have to wait long; the low scudding clouds drew closer, shadows deepening in the hills to the northwest as the thunder he could feel under his feet finally grew loud enough for him to hear.
“It’s not thunder. Drumbeats. And hooves.” The clouds above flashed, lit from within by grim lightning, and the shadows on the road gave way to reveal a banner in the distance. Underneath it, he could just make out the shape of a wagon. As it bore down, he saw the face of a grizzled, bearded old man at the reins of a pair of mules. The grass in the fields swayed and bent before the frenzied wind, and the sound of thunder and drumbeat grew louder. The darkness deepened almost to midnight, the morning sun hiding its face from that awesome banner, and the soldiers who marched under it.
As above, so below; the lightning dancing through the clouds was mirrored by sparks of electricity leaping from the hoofstrike of every horse in the caravan, as wagons continued to melt out of the darkness. Soldiers marched alongside and among the wagons, their hobnail boots hitting the ground in near unison. Their gaze was fixed straight ahead, and their pace never faltered, as if by their stride they demanded the earth itself surrender to their will. They marched, the wind howled, but their banner remained immobile. A rough black stripe split the fabric in half, and collars dangled beneath it, tassels weighing it down.
Lightning finally did crash then, a burst of light that drove the shadows back to reveal a towering armored form on an even larger horse, his lance couched and held upright. He came to the side of the road as the caravan continued rolling past, and his stallion stamped and pawed the ground as if eager to return to its head. Two hulking wolf-men, small next to the horse, slunk out of the shadows to flank him.
“What do you carry?” rasped a voice as dry and cold as the autumn winds that had preceded him.
Belka stood there a moment, finding his voice. “Stamina potions, healing tonics, and a wagonload of Mana crystals bound for Forvale from Fort Expedition. We got out ahead of the siege, and…” Belka’s voice trailed off as the apparition tugged a pouch from his belt, tossing it at his feet. The renowned symbol of the City of Prophets, an eye in a white circle, decorated the bag in embossed stitching. Belka retrieved it, and his hands shook as he tipped several rectangular chits of silvery metal into his palm.. “This...is this mithril?”
“We’re buying your wagons.”
“But this is too much--” Belka protested, before Laren dug her elbow into his ribs. “Wait, what do you mean the wagons?”
“Your goods, your wagons, your men...all of it.”
“But we just left Fort Expedition barely two weeks ago!”
“Yes, and? Now you’re going back.” Thunder crashed again as the man spoke, the last soldiers in the column marching past. “Fall in, and keep up.”
===================================================
Everything was red. Red light -- red like heat, red like fire -- burned through her being. Even the scent in her nostrils felt red. She was inundated by the light, subsumed by it. Eventually, she became the light, the all-consuming hue defining her existence, until it slowly faded into blessed darkness.
She woke with a gasp, jerking upright from the cold stone upon which she lay. She rose to her feet, and looked at the space she was in. Tall gothic arches surrounded an atrium, and in the center was what looked like…
“Is this an altar? Or a crypt?”
“Six of one, half a dozen of the other,” came a voice to her left. She spun to look, but limbs rendered unfamiliar by the redness betrayed her, and she fell back to the floor.
“Now, now, no need to panic,” said a second voice, and the woman pushed herself up from the floor with weary arms that only reluctantly obeyed. Her eyes met three pairs of feet, one in armored boots, one with comfortable looking sandals, and another pair bare on the floor. Three women stood before her, looking down on her, on hands and knees, clothed in a plain white shift.
“Where are--? What--?”
Her eyes traced up the women in front of her. The one on her left was dressed in scuffed, battleworn armor. She looked to the side, towards the other two, and clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “She’s forgotten so much, Ruga. Are you sure we should be bothering with this instead of letting her pass back into the cycle?”
“Hush, Koma. You know she’s earned the chance to make this Choice,” said the center woman, her figure and bearing much softer and more open than the harsh, closed-off Koma, with her hard eyes. She had been afraid of the armored Koma instantly, but this Ruga was a kinder presence. The third had yet to speak, but even in her silence she was confusing, her clothes flickering from one outfit to another every few heartbeats.
“What choice do you mean?” she choked out. Her lungs ached, as if breathing were a burden, and she found she couldn’t remember her name, or how she got here. That made not knowing what was happening even worse.
“So sad,” said the third woman with the shifting clothes, with a sad shake of her head. “She always wanted to enter the Temple, and now that she’s finally here? She doesn’t even remember.”
Temple? The thought was familiar, and mournful.
“Don’t taunt her, Ingra,” admonished the middle woman before turning back to kneel before her. A small basin of water and a washcloth appeared in Ruga’s hands, the latter of which she offered with a comforting smile. “She’s sacrificed enough.”
“Sacrifice? What did I do? Who am--? Who are--??” she sputtered uselessly, confusion rising once again.
“Shhhh,” said Ruga, helping her wash her face. "Yours was a long and twisting story, and there will be time enough to help you remember."
Koma snorted with amusement. “I’ll say, you don’t see one such as her sacrifice themselves. Ever.”
“So that brings us to here. You did an impossible thing,” said Ruga gently. “And the reward for a job well done has ever been more work to do.”
“If you’ll take the job,” said the last woman, her clothes shifting from blouse and breeches to a scandalously sheer silk gown that covered little and hid less. “You’ve earned the Choice, to pass on and forget and start again.”
“Or you can stick around, with a new job, maybe help some more people,” said the woman in armor.
“Maybe help lots of people,” said Ruga, helping her to her feet.
“How can I help people? I don’t know who I am!” she complained, finally finding her feet.
“You’ll get those memories back if you choose to take the job. You won’t need them if you choose to pass on,” replied Ruga.
“That’s not--”
“Fair?” Ruga supplied. “You’re right, it’s not. Nothing in life, or in death, ever is. But the Choice is before you: you can choose to keep doing good, or you can choose to pass on. None will fault you, whichever you choose. You’ve already died, girl.” Ruga pulled her close suddenly, a gentle hug that soothed her mind, small comforts against the confusion. “Most only do it once, but you’ve managed to go and do it twice.” Ruga stepped back, holding her at arm’s length while looking in her eyes. “If you could remember, it would sway your choice. That’s why you’re held apart from your memories. You have to decide from down here in the dream, the person you are, not the person you were.”
“Everything was red…” the woman said softly.
“We can’t tell you any more than we have,” said Koma gently. “But if you choose to stay, I promise you, it will be worth it, if you want to help people. Not easy, but worthy.”
“You’ll have to travel a long way, from this island temple all the way to the middle of the mainland.” Ingra’s clothes still shifted, now luxurious robes of purple with oversized golden loops hanging from her ears.
“...How will I get there?” she asked, looking from one woman to the next.
Koma suddenly smiled. “I think she’s choosing to stay, if she’s worried about that,” she laughed.
“I’ll tell you, if that’s your choice,” Ruga replied with a smile.
“I think I’d like to help people, if I can.” She nodded at the women, strength slowly returning to her limbs.
“In that case, you’ll get to the mainland with these,” whispered Ruga, this time stepping close and reaching behind her. She could feel a strange sensation in her back as the other woman’s arm pulled something out to the side, holding a wing draped in feathers of brilliant white. Its mate twitched behind her.
“Regain your strength and recover your memories...Zizael, Herald of Redemption.” Zizael gasped and shuddered, strength suddenly flooding her body as her memory began to trickle back to her.
“You’ve got a job to do, and people to save.”
|
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}
|
“That’s awesome!” Morgan clapped her hands with satisfaction, dancing in place after seeing Althenea switch between her forms several times. The discordance and sense of confusion no longer radiated from the bound soul, and Morgan relished in the lack of sensation. It had been an unscratchable itch from the time she had first attached her to the weapons, constantly echoing across the [Spell Resonance] link; the annoyance alone would have driven her to help, even if it weren’t for her own compassion and her desire to do something ‘cool.’
Dropping a mountain on the swarming things her friends had called ‘skitterlings’ had been impressive enough to see, certainly, but from a magical standpoint, it hadn’t been especially challenging -- or even all that fun. Once the deeper layers of earth and stone had been lifted up, all she had had to do was stand back and let gravity and inertia take their courses. It had required her to use most of her magical reserves, but it had been a matter of brute force rather than skill. Helping Althenea, however, had been satisfying in a deeply visceral way, and posed a fantastic test of her skill with enchantments.
The woman with the amazing suit of armor, Dana, was grinning as well. Morgan was extremely interested in the enchanted -- ‘circuitry’ is the only word I can think of -- that threaded from hundreds of points along her spine into the metal she wore. There were layers to the spellwork she didn’t think Dana was even aware of; based on their conversations, she felt certain her [Mana Sight] provided far more insight into the magic driving the engineer’s prosthetics than the sensors the engineer had.
She sensed heavy footfalls behind her, and turned to see the massive half-Ursaran, Foz, looming close. “Gratitude,” he said in a deep, bassy rumble. “A favor is owed, when you call.”
Almost out of reflex, she gave a slight bow. “It really wasn’t a big deal, but I won’t argue,” she said. The bear-like man radiated a sort of solidity and strength to her senses, and he had prepared excellent food. Good manners don’t cost me anything, she thought to herself as Terisa’s husband lumbered back towards the other beastkin youths.
Noting a distinct absence on her shoulder, she looked around for Lulu. The fort and its temporary denizens seemed to have attracted hordes of the scrubby’s brood and descendants, although none were as large and poofy as their matriarch and progenitor. Faint wurbling tones permeated the background noise of the fort, and she could see loofahs scrubbling their way around on almost every surface in sight. More seemed to arrive with each passing hour, drawn by the massive expenditures of magic and the scent of blood in the air around Castra Pristis.
She found Lulu next to Wuffle, the necromancer’s pet. The necromancer himself was solemnly pacing circles around the funeral biers, and Morgan’s mood was dampened by the reminder. It had been in self-defense, but her fires, once turned loose, made no distinction between friend and foe. One shrouded figure lay on a slightly taller bier of stacked wood than the others. She had hoped to have been able to speak with Nessara about magic, and possibly learn new skills or spells. Learning that the woman could not have been saved once she had been taken hadn’t assuaged her guilt very much, and the memory of the mage thanking her as she died twisted the knife even deeper.
“She was a good woman, and a good friend,” said Terisa, stepping closer to Morgan. The inquisitive audience to Althenea’s transformation had dispersed as the evening’s darkening skies heralded the approaching time of the funeral. “We were once a merry band of naive ambition, her and Kojeg and I, following in my sister’s footsteps looking for adventure.” The huntress rested one hand on the Colt’s holster, seeming almost apprehensive.
“How did she--? Your sister, I mean.” Morgan didn’t quite know how to phrase the question, but the other woman understood.
“She left home and earned a name for herself while I was still a child, and I sought the same fame and glory.” Terisa spoke softly, watching as Biggles continued to thread his way in circles around the shrouded bodies. The magic of spirits and the cycle of life and death felt different to Morgan than her own elemental affinities, but still equally potent. “It was just Nessara and myself at first, and we met Kojeg soon after heading out on our own. We worked as guards for merchant caravans, chased down bounties, or took on other contracts. But we never could seem to reach the same heights Althenea had, so I always pushed us to take harder jobs.”
“My brothers compete with each other like that, always trying to outdo each other,” replied Morgan.
“Foz had joined us by then, although we hadn’t married yet. The four of us took a contract to look into some disappearances in the southern forests of Weldtir. We thought it might have been slavers or just regular banditry, so we didn’t wait, and went in by ourselves.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow at the huntress. “Not either, I assume?”
Terisa’s grim smile was all the answer she needed. “Warlock. Not a dabbler getting their toes wet either. A full-fledged demon-binding warlock, and a [Soul Mage], or some variant. The [Oracle] had already informed the Rangers of Forvale, but Althenea didn’t arrive in time to stop us. She got there just in time to kill him before he could kill me, but he was crafty and had a spell on a dead man’s trigger, set to go off when he died. It destroyed her body and trapped her in the gem. She took my place. And now you have saved her.”
“It was the least I could--”
“No.” Terisa’s voice, hard-edged, cut Morgan off, her flat gaze boring into the other woman’s. “I owe you a debt.”
“I don’t know what to ask in repayment,” Morgan exclaimed, exasperated. Lulu had returned while they were speaking, and hopped back up to Morgan’s shoulder, sensing her distress.
“Then think on it,” the huntress replied. “Dana tells me you cannot repair the bridge, so Foz and I, at least, will travel with you until we get out of Wildlands -- however that may happen. There is time.”
Morgan shook her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s not that I can’t fix the bridge; I just can’t do it before winter. There’s a ley line running along the bottom of the gorge, which means we’d have to work slow and careful. It’s not like a nexus or a node where two or more lines meet, there’s no extra mana being given off.” Morgan shrugged in resignation. “If it was a nexus like at my valley, I could use the excess magic and get us across in just a few days. But if I tried that here, the flow of magic would pull mine in instead of giving me a boost, so I can’t tap into it. My dad could, or at least I think he could. But he protects the lines, he doesn’t mess with them.”
The necromancer, having finished his ritual, quietly approached as the two women talked. “It is done,” he said, weariness tinting his voice. “Give everyone some time to make their peace with lost friends, before lighting the fires.”
“Was that soul magic?” asked Morgan. “I could feel something, but it wasn’t like any of my own magic.”
Biggles looked almost offended at the comparison. “It is not magic. Not in the way of mages or sorcerers. Not quite prayer either.” He leaned on his staff, catching his breath. “Necromancers, we talk directly to the spirits, although talk is really too strong of a word. Some can impart enough mana to them to allow for manifesting words, but in my case it’s a matter of images and feelings.”
“I don’t know how much Dana has told you about our world,” said Morgan, “but necromancy doesn’t exactly have a nice reputation in our stories. At all.”
Terisa chuckled. “The stigma is one they all face. Biggles here is one of the better ones.”
“Much is misunderstood about my craft, it’s true,” he agreed. “A few bad seeds ruin it for all of us. Using necromancy to bind souls to empower the caster or their constructs or raise corpses is a shortcut to power for the greedy and stupid. I find it much more effective to bargain on equal terms.” He shook his head vigorously. “The other methods come with a whole host of problems, not least of which would be the [Oracle]’s attention.”
“Oracles have their own reputation in Earth’s mythology; most of them are insane,” replied Morgan. “I think I follow what you mean about necromancy though. Probably not the kind of magic I’ll ever be into.”
“An [Oracle] most certainly can go insane; it has happened before,” added Terisa. “But they usually have other problems. Going blind is common, or being driven to suicide by their visions. It was the [Oracle] who helped Althenea the first time, offering to send her to the other side or let her stay with me.”
“Sounds powerful,” said the sorceress.
Biggles shook his head again. “They can be, but they’re an extreme example of powers and prices. Where the [Oracle] has authority depends on a lot of things that only the [Oracle] herself knows. Where she has authority, it is absolute; where she does not, she is powerless.”
“The [Oracle] saw you, when you arrived,” Terisa continued. “She saw all of the Worldwalkers. Her vision was announced at every temple and chapel, from Stormbreak all the way to Eastharbor. They call Dana ‘The Broken,’ and you’re ‘The Burning Woman.’” Terisa sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Nessara was supposedly sent by the Magisterium to look for sign of you...that may even be true, depending on when she was taken.”
Morgan grimaced and shuddered. “I really don’t like that I killed innocent victims. The Deskren have a lot to answer for.”
“If you intend to go against the Empire, you’ll need help, and I’ll get to pay off that debt all the sooner,” said the Huntress. “I owe a debt to them as well, and I intend to pay it. I bounced Nessara’s children on my knee, and I do not look forward to my next visit to Stormbreak to tell Kanessa what happened.”
Dana had lagged behind the others, growing more agitated as they talked. Morgan turned as the other woman’s suit buzzed and whirred through several different configurations before returning to a normal-seeming armored form.
“It’s all bullshit!” The engineer seemed on the verge of screaming. “Four hundred years and nobody’s done anything about them?” The outburst was as much a demand as a question.
“We’ve fought several wars with them,” retorted the Huntress. “I was in the last one myself.”
“That’s bullshit, too,” Dana shot back. “None of you have been to war. You’ve just fought them off when they go on raiding campaigns to take more slaves.”
“Uh oh…” murmured Morgan, backing away from the other two women as tempers flared.
“Careful, lass.” Kojeg tried to step between Dana and the Huntress, but the engineer rounded on him next, a tempest in her gaze. He continued in a softer tone. “The Empire are no’ the only ones we’ve fought against. An’ you just gave Terisa a weapon of war of your own world.”
“I’ve skimmed enough of your books to get an idea,” spat Dana. “You march twenty thousand onto a field and think it’s a mighty host. A hundred thousand in one army? I can count the number of times that’s happened in Anfealt’s history without needing the toes I don’t have!”
“Your world may have better technologies than ours, but we are no strangers to destruction, Dana,” said Terisa calmly, refusing to rise to meet Dana’s anger. “It isn’t as simple as marching to the Empire. Nothing can cross the Elemental Desert, not since the battle at Oasa that ended the First Deskren War. Dead sands stretching farther than any two of the northern nations added together, and it was a jungle forest before the war.”
“Half a million people died in that campaign, most of them on that very day or the weeks that followed,” added Biggles almost meekly.
“That may be true, but it isn’t an excuse for that!” she said, pointing at Nessara’s bundled form on the funeral bier. “Four hundred years, and that still happens?”
“What would ye have us do?” asked Kojeg. “Kings and Queens and Thanes and High Councils, all need see to their own people and borders before all else.”
“I’m gonna build us an airship to get us out of the Wildlands, and your Thanes are going to owe me for that. What is built once can be copied.”
“For summat such as that, by my beard ye can name price to the Thuns and they shall pay it.”
Dana crossed her arms and stared at Kojeg. “My price is that you stop hiding in your tunnels and actually fight, like the other nations are gathering at Possibility to do.”
“The Stoneborn have no part in the Bargain of Kings,” he replied, shaking his head.
“That’s an excuse for cowards!” she exploded. “If no one else was fighting them then you should have been leading the way!”
Kojeg froze, muscles tensing, expression turning frosty. “Lass,” he said slowly, “be very careful of your next words.”
Dana stalked from side to side, shaking her head. Her suit went from two legs to four to six, spider-like motions taking over her gait. “You want to know how we make war, Kojeg? My people? What’s different about it, and what it means?”
“If it helps ye calm down? By all means, educate me.”
She turned and lunged, planting one hand in the middle of Kojeg’s broad chest and shoving him back a step. The front legs of her suit shot out and slammed into the earth, holding her fast. “We take your dirt. You were standing here--” she pointed down, to where her legs were anchored-- “and now this dirt is mine.” Kojeg glanced from the ground to Dana, confused. She raised her legs from the ground and stepped forward again, pushing Kojeg back another step. He moved back, a frown flickering across his features. “Now this dirt is mine, too. It is no longer yours.”
Kojeg opened his mouth to make some protest; Dana shoved him back, driving her legs into the ground again and scarring the earth anew. “Again.” Once more, Kojeg’s protest was interrupted. “And again. It’s not about killing; that’s just a side effect.” Anger burned in Dana’s expression, and her suit creaked as she advanced. Another push, and Kojeg had been crowded back almost to where Morgan stood with Biggles.
“It’s your dirt we’re after. We take it, and it becomes ours. And we do not stop.” She shoved again, grunting with exertion. Kojeg took another step back. “Not until you are broken. Beaten. Exhausted! Until you have no more dirt. No place to retreat. No shelter. No rest.” Each sentence was punctuated with another shove, another step, and another pair of holes in her wake. She crossed her arms, seemingly done making that point. “You think half a million dead is war?” she asked, scoffing. “You don’t know the meaning of the word. We’ve lost that many in single battles that lasted weeks, months! A hundred times that many in a single war spanning years! A hundred thousand dead with a single bomb! And we dropped two!”
Kojeg seemed lost for words; Terisa fared no better. Both looked rattled and confused. Dana still looked angry, but it had cooled. Morgan spoke up, then, to fill the sudden silence.
“She’s not wrong. It really was that bad, maybe worse. And she’s telling the truth about the way the Army approaches warfare, at least the way my dad tells it.”
“What do you mean?” asked Terisa.
“The Marines kick in the door. The Navy rules the seas. The Air Force commands the sky. And--”
“--the Army takes your dirt,” finished Dana. “I’m sorry, Kojeg,” she said, letting out a heavy breath. “I shouldn’t take it out on you -- but Nessara was a friend, and I don’t have many of those!”
“If ye wish to join the fight against the Deskren with the surface nations, I’ll be right there with ye, lass. But to ask the Thuns to march?” Kojeg stroked his beard, considering. “It may be a flying ship t’would spur the Thanes. I cannae say.”
“It just doesn’t make sense. A dozen nations and kingdoms, the Beast Tribes, the Gnomes, and the Dwarves, and nobody has put an end to this empire.”
“The southern continent is larger than the north, and more populous. It’s a bigger task than you think, when the desert is in the way and any invasion would be by sea,” offered Terisa gently.
“Airships will make that excuse worthless,” said the engineer.
“Tis a hard thing to believe, a flying ship,” said Kojeg.
Dana looked to Morgan. “If her valley is a safe place to stay for a couple of months, I can do it. Maybe...four months, depending on materials, if everyone pitches in for labor. I’ll need lots of witchwood, the taller the trees the better.”
“Nowhere is truly safe in the Wildlands, but my place is safer than most,” answered the sorceress. “And I’d love to see a flying ship,” she said with a grin.
The last rays of the evening sun faded from beyond the walls of the fort, torches and campfires painting ominous dancing shadows upon the tents and low stone buildings. As the day gave way to night, the necromancer spoke up with a voice that seemed to have grown in power as the light faded away.
“It is time, Miss Morgan. You offered a gift of fire to cleanse this place of death, and the spirits have crossed with the dusk.”
She nodded, suddenly solemn once again, before turning to the stacked pallets of wood and their grim decorations. Lulu wurbled softly from her shoulder as she gathered her magic. A funeral pyre? she thought to herself. I’ll give them one to remember!
With a thought and a negligent gesture, seven mana crystals appeared from her storage runes, floating around her. Drawing deeply on her mana reserves, they flared into brilliantly-incandescent purple light, driving back the shadows and bathing the area in their glow. Terisa and Kojeg stepped back, covering their eyes, as Dana’s helmet visor took on a dark tint. For a moment, Morgan could hear murmuring from the gathering crowd, before the rising hum of her magic filled her ears.
She sent threads of fire snaking through the piles of stacked wood, throwing embers skyward as she took hold of them. As she leaned into the task, faint shimmers appeared in the space around the pyres as the air heated.
Then, she activated [Spell Surge], raising her arms skyward as pillars of flame rose up to engulf the fallen. A dozen spears of indigo and violet shot into the night sky, reaching nearly a hundred paces high. Waves of heat rolled out from the courtyard, breaking over those assembled. After a moment, she lowered her arms, releasing the magic. The spears faded, followed by the violet incandescence as the crystals returned to her storage belt, leaving the crackling flames to provide light. She stood quietly for several minutes, unsure of what she was expected to do next.
“Thank you,” Terisa spoke from her elbow. Morgan had not heard the huntress approach.
“It was the least I could do. I wish there’d been a better way.”
“You didn’t put the collar around her neck, but you freed her from it before she died. Few of those so enslaved ever get to say the same.”
“Hopefully more will by the time we’re done,” said Dana from her other side, now composed and calm once again. With her helmet fully retracted, the engineer stood next to Morgan and Terisa.
Updrafts from the flames stirred the winds, whipping dust into the air on currents the sorceress could feel tugging at her mane of hair. Lulu wurbled and hopped up and down on her shoulder, earning an affectionate pat. “I’m looking forward to seeing exactly how you plan to build a ship that can fly,” she said to the other Worldwalker.
“There’s a couple different options,” came the response, but she was interrupted as Lulu bounced insistently up and down once again.
The scrubby seemed to be trying to jump higher, wurbling and warbling, and Biggles’s own Wuffle followed suit. Then the rest of the loofahs around the wagons and tents joined in as the winds quickened. Suddenly, Lulu sprang upwards into the wind with a mighty hop, leaving a trail of foamy soap bubbles in her wake before one big bubble formed around the precocious puffball. The scrubby wurbled frantically in panicked surprise as the winds drew it upwards, before the bubble gave way with a pop to return a frantic Lulu to her mistress’s arms.
“Actually, that’s the method I was leaning towards, simple air bags and displacement for lift…” Dana trailed off as hundreds of scrubbies were suddenly airborne, riding the wind currents into the sky.
“Lulu!” exclaimed Morgan. “What did you do!?”
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 39: Dirt",
"author": "a_man_in_black",
"chapters": 51,
"rating": 4.7,
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"genre": [
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Morgan Mackenzie was falling through the sky in an old fashioned metal bathtub, wearing nothing but soapy bathwater and an expression of total shock and panic. The fact that she was screaming in a state of pure and abject terror should come as no surprise to anyone who might have been present to witness her sudden appearance in mid-air in a strange and alien world. As a matter of fact, her arrival was indeed noticed by several local denizens of her new environs. The first creatures to be alerted to her presence were three [Giant Eagle Hatchlings] who were quite startled when over three hundred pounds of iron bathtub, filled with over a hundred gallons of soapy water and just over a hundred pounds of screeching, naked human appeared less than ten feet above their nest. Gravity immediately remembered its job, and the newborn eagle hatchlings promptly lost any chance of ever becoming proud and mighty [Giant Eagles] like they probably hoped. The unlucky hatchlings did not even have time to squawk a hopeless protest about their unhappy fate as the tub landed on them with a crunch that Morgan did not even notice. The sudden stop of the bathtub and her follow-up splashy impact cut her screams short as she landed not in the center of the tub, but against the side. Only random luck and slippery soap suds saved her from a concussion or worse as she slid down the side, then the bottom of the tub and she was sloshed, bathwater and all, into the nest on top of scattered pieces of egg shells and scraps of rotting carrion.
Morgan pushed herself up to her knees as the sudden shock wore off in the stillness of the moment. Finally able to draw a breath, ribs aching from the impact, she immediately gagged. Her sudden coughing earned her further protests from her already bruised and tender ribs. “What the fuck!” she exclaimed as the scents of rotting meat in various stages of decay assaulted her senses, lightly seasoned with bird droppings as well as fresh blood and feather-coated viscera. She still held her loofah scrubby in one hand, and raised it to her face in a partially successful attempt to mask the stench of the nest with the familiar smells of her favorite body wash products. She looked around in confusion, battling through the sheer shock and surprise of her situation to try to make some sort of sense about where she was. Her confusion was promptly renewed though, as within moments of her landing she felt rather than heard a chiming DING! inside her head, followed immediately by two more sensations, exactly the same as the first. Just as she opened her mouth to blindly repeat her utterance, her attention was stolen by ethereal silvery text spilling itself across the center of her sight.
You have defeated [Giant Eagle Hatchling(Lvl - 1)]
For earning your victory while [Naked] and [Unequipped], experience gain doubled.
+40 experience gained.
You have defeated [Giant Eagle Hatchling(Lvl - 1)]
For earning your victory while [Naked] and [Unequipped], experience gain doubled.
+40 experience gained.
You have defeated [Giant Eagle Hatchling(Lvl - 2)]
For earning your victory while [Naked] and [Unequipped], experience gain doubled.
+70 experience gained.
As an increasingly confused Morgan gazed slack-jawed at the words superimposed over her vision, they quickly began to fade. As several extremely un-ladylike expletives exploded into the silent trees, an even more intense DING! slammed into her mind like a gold and silver starburst.
You have reached Level 2! Health and Status partially restored!
For reaching this milestone while [Naked] and [Unequipped], rewarded points doubled.
10 distributable Stat Points awarded.
10 Skill Points awarded.
Skill purchases unlocked!(Check available skills through your Status Menu)
As interesting as she found these new messages, Morgan did not have time to properly consider this information. As the last glowing message faded from her vision, the nest she had fallen into swayed sideways with a vicious lurch, spilling her once more into the detritus. Suddenly unbalanced, broken egg shells and jagged branches tore into her hands and knees as she struggled to keep from falling face first onto the muck-covered floor of the nest. A piercing screech rekindled her shortly forgotten terror. The nest shuddered once more with the sound of cracking tree branches. Morgan scrambled backwards towards the trunk of tree that held the nest in it’s branches, not even noticing the new scratches and smattering of rotten meat and filth she was crawling through in her panic. Only two important details occupied her attention at that moment. The first, and actually less frightening thing she had on her mind was that the nest was tilting further and further down away from the tree as the branches cracked and shook. The second and, to Morgan’s frantic mind, more immediately important detail was the rather gigantic eagle shoving her bathtub off of its rather ruined wing. The colossal bird of prey was easily twice the size of an SUV, and it jerked its head to turn a baleful eye in the direction of the one who had slain its young and so grievously wounded it. The angry bird then drew in a massive breath and gave vent to its rage with a screech far louder than Morgan was capable of comprehending. The sound hit her like a solid wave of force, for indeed that was the effect of the oversized avian’s skill, [Thunderous Screech]. Not that Morgan was in any state to realize any of this, or care even if she did have the information. The pressure of the cry slammed her out of the nest and into the trunk of the tree, shattering her eardrums. The bathtub came to rest almost on top of her previous position against the wall of the nest itself. Stunned, deafened, and feeling sharp jagged lances of pain through her whole body, she fell forward onto the tree branch and almost didn’t manage to latch onto it in time.
Her vision blurry and ears hearing nothing but a painful silent ringing, Morgan held onto the branch of the tree with the last vestiges of effort left in her broken and exhausted body. A different kind of message pulsed in her awareness with a dull throbbing cadence.
You have taken critical damage!
Status afflicted: [Deafened]! Your eardrums have ruptured!
Status afflicted: [Internal Bleeding]! You are bleeding internally!
She felt her precarious perch shift and crack more than she heard it, and looked on with a sudden blank detachment as the bird that had just killed her flapped its remaining wing and flopped itself right over the side of its own nest and fell out of her sight. The big eagle’s last lurching movement was the final bit of stress the tortured branch could handle, and less than a foot from Morgan’s face the groaning limb finally gave out. Looking down, she saw the eagle hit the ground in a puff of oversized feathers like the world’s largest pillow exploded, followed by the nest and forked tree branch. As the broken bird tried to fight its way free from the debris, Morgan’s big metal bathtub landed right on its head with a crunchy GONG! that Morgan might have found rather humorous in better circumstances. And if her eardrums weren’t ruptured rendering her deaf. Eardrums or not, she most certainly did hear two back to back notices as more blocks of text appeared in her vision one after the other, and she suddenly felt much better. She felt better than she would have thought someone in her situation should be feeling.
DING! rolled through her mind with a bright silver flair.
You have defeated [Giant Wildlands Eagle(Lvl - 9)]
For earning your victory while [Naked] and [Unequipped], experience gain doubled.
+1800 experience gained.
Which was immediately followed with the golden DING!
You have reached Level 3! Health and Status partially restored!
For reaching this milestone while [Naked] and [Unequipped], rewarded points doubled.
10 distributable Stat Points awarded.
10 Skill Points awarded.
Skill purchases unlocked!(Check available skills through your Status Menu)
DING!
You have reached Level 4! Health and Status partially restored!
For reaching this milestone while [Naked] and [Unequipped], rewarded points doubled.
10 distributable Stat Points awarded.
10 Skill Points awarded.
Skill purchases unlocked!(Check available skills through your Status Menu)
DING!
You have reached Level 5! Health and Status partially restored!
For reaching this milestone while [Naked] and [Unequipped], rewarded points doubled.
10 distributable Stat Points awarded.
10 Skill Points awarded.
Skill purchases unlocked!(Check available skills through your Status Menu)
DING!
You have reached Level 6! Health and Status partially restored!
For reaching this milestone while [Naked] and [Unequipped], rewarded points doubled.
10 distributable Stat Points awarded.
10 Skill Points awarded.
Skill purchases unlocked!(Check available skills through your Status Menu)
“What. The. FUCK!?” Morgan gasped. While the actual time that had passed between her being in her apartment taking a bath and her current situation of being well over a hundred feet up in the top of a tree could be counted in seconds without needing three digits, the sheer amount of new information and experience of the events had left her with such a horrendous case of mental whiplash that all she could do was just hold onto her newfound friend the tree branch and try to process it all.
“That… that happened… Did it? Or not?” she said to nobody in particular as she pushed herself up to a sitting position, straddling the waist-thick stub of tree she currently occupied. Her wounds may have been miraculously healed by the mysterious “levels” she had reached, but she was still covered in a rather disgusting blend of soap, blood, feathers, and bird droppings. And she was most definitely naked. She was acutely aware of that fact with the rough bark of the tree scraping her tender thighs and bottom. Her skin was beginning to itch all over from the nasty mess. She had for all intents and purposes been rolled in it like a piece of meat being coated in a most fell sort of breading. The other thing she was unable to ignore was the terrible smell.
Realizing she still clutched her scrubby loofah in one hand, she picked out the larger pieces of sticks and feathers out of it and once again held it up to her face to try to smell something nicer than bird droppings and the iron-tangy scent of blood. Carefully, she wiped the worst of the muck off her face and took a slow look around to try to figure out exactly where she was. It only took her a few heartbeats to realize that where? was a question that would have no easy answer.
The first thing she noticed was a confirmation of her first stunned look at her new world. Two moons chased each other across the sky, the larger leading the smaller by a thumbnail wide gap from her point of reference. The next thing she noticed was trees. Lots and lots and lots of trees. Very similar looking trees to the familiar pines, cedars, and juniper trees she had grown up seeing all around her home in Eastern Washington; the difference was one of scale. She could tell she was well over a hundred feet off the ground, and she was in a much smaller tree than the giant timber she could see all around her. The tree she currently occupied was in fact dead, with none of the verdant green needles, leaves, or anything else gracing its gnarled, stunted (compared to the other trees) form. She was still above the actual forest canopy though, thanks to her temporary seat growing out of a rather pronounced hill of raised earth. The sibling moons cast a brighter lunar glow than any full moon she’d ever experienced on earth, and in any other circumstances her view most certainly would have been utterly breathtaking. Even with her sudden and frightening situation she couldn't help but to let out an exclamatory “Whoa…”
The forest stretched for as far as she could see even in the abnormally bright moonlight, at least in every direction she could see considering she was far too frightened at the moment to try to climb around the main trunk of her new treetop home. In the distance to her left she could see a glimmer through a dip in the landscape that she thought might be a river of some sort, but she had no real way to gauge any semblance of accurate distance just by looking. Off to her right if she turned her head far enough she could just see the edge of the forest in the distance rise in elevation and give way to a stark and jagged mountain range. But the most amazing thing about the forest was, far and away, the trees.
The trees in this forest made the giant redwoods and sequoias she had seen in the american northwest look like quaint little christmas trees. The hilltop that “her” tree grew out of formed a clearing almost a quarter of a mile across by her best estimate. It was at the very least a hundred and twenty feet or so from where she sat to the gnarled roots that had caught the giant eagle before her bathtub ended its final moments of outrage. The slope then steeply dropped off for several hundred feet further before giving way to smaller trees at the edge of the forest, trees that only grew in size and majesty the farther away from the root-covered knoll upon which she was sitting.
“There must be something different about either this tree or this hill, or both…” she spoke out loud. While her “level ups” had restored her health and healed her ruptured eardrums and internal injuries, her voice still sounded muffled and far away due to the congealed blood that had built up before her miraculous recovery. After a partially successful attempt to clean her ears out with the careful application of her fingernails, Morgan simply sat for a few minutes to organize her thoughts.
Morgan Mackenzie was not stupid. Far from it in fact. She was a below average college student who only took light class loads because she worked a full time job. Her average to bordering on poor grades through high school and into college were a result of her apathy and lack of motivation, and not from a lack of intelligence or capability. She simply wasn’t interested in more than just getting by, as long as getting by was reasonably achievable and left her plenty of free time for things she actually enjoyed. Like the company of a select few friends, her books, and looking at cute things on the internet, with the occasional interlude for sexy times with her now ex-boyfriend. That particular train of thought brought her bad mood crashing back with a vengeance, pulling her out of her reverie so that she noticed the rough bark she was clinging to. Not to mention the increasingly itchy coating of icky she was currently wearing. Carefully, she adjusted herself to hold her more sensitive bits away from the scratchy bark she was clinging to like human shrink-wrap. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she refocused on the messages that had appeared in her vision. As soon as her attention came back to them, the last golden “level up” message returned to a startlingly vivid clarity. “What is ‘status menu’? She said to herself, jumping slightly as a silvery list of text and numbers replaced the previous level up message.
Status Information for: Morgan Mackenzie
Level - 6
Primary Class: [Locked]
Secondary Class: [Locked]
Health - 74/74
Stamina - 24/24
Mana - 36/36
STR - 3
AGI - 5
CON - 4
VIT - 4
INT - 6
Stat points available to distribute: 50
Current Skills: None
Basic Skills now available for purchase!
Skill Points available: 50
Titles, Mantles, and Aspects
[Worldwalker(Title)] - You have travelled through the void between the many worlds! Every world is different, each with its own gifts and dangers. To help you survive strange new places you gain a slight boost to health and an increased ability to learn new things! (+50 to Health, +50% increased gains to Skill Experience)
[Naked Survivor(Aspect)] - You have defeated foes and increased your own power while [Naked] and [Unequipped]! For gaining five or more levels in this manner without the benefits of a [Class] you have gained this Aspect. Experience gained and points rewarded are doubled while you are [Naked] and [Unequipped]. This Aspect will modify some learned or available skills with appropriate bonuses to offset your incompatibility with equipped items. Equipping clothing or items of any type will disable this Aspect, rendering modified skills and benefits unavailable. Facing further challenges and reaching new milestones of personal growth while [Naked] and [Unequipped] will enhance this Aspect for even greater benefit.
“Huh…” huffed Morgan as she took in the sudden influx of information, this time actually paying attention to the words somehow being projected into her eyes. Even though she had played games like Stardew Valley, Factorio, and Starbound more than anything else, the similarities to MMOs and RPGs was not lost on her. As she focused on her dismally low stats she received not another notification but a vague sense of how they worked. Understanding how her stats worked did not intrinsically lend itself to helping her figure out how to get from her chilly treetop location and to somewhere warmer and safer. Preferably a location with another bath and a change of clothes. A brisk, bone-chilling wind rustled her elevated perch and reminded her just how naked she was.
“F-F-F-FUCK,” she stuttered. The muck she was splattered with was making the cool wind feel even colder, and the cold gave the rough bark she was pressed against an even more savage intensity. With her newly restored health from the leveling up, it did not hurt exactly, but it was just about as far from comfortable as she could get without actual pain. Her hair was matted with shampoo and baby bird guts and beginning to dry, and the rest of her body had begun to itch like mad.
“So… either I’m dead and this is hell, I’m dreaming, or according to this ‘Worldwalker’ title I’m in another world. This shit sucks too much to be a dream. Dropped in bird shit is definitely a kind of hell, but giant trees and a creepy forest are definitely pointing towards another world. I hope. Or think. I might just be going insane…”
A small part of Morgan’s mind realized her words were too quick and her breathing far too rapid, and she struggled within her own mind to hold the oncoming panic attack at bay. Taking a deep breath, and with no other ideas for what else to do, she looked back at her stats once again. With her conscious attention on just her stats, the image zoomed in on that section and the rest fell out of her vision. Focusing her attention on her available stat points, without understanding how she knew she could do so, she willed a single point into her strength stat. She felt more than saw her STR increase from three to four, followed by a quick but noticeable twitching of her entire body. She repeated that several more times in a row, and as her STR hit eleven her entire body cramped so intensely that she nearly passed out. She had hugged her tree limb so hard that she had driven the rough edges of the bark into her skin all along the insides of her legs, arms, and her bare breasts, while her hands had clenched so tightly her fingers were pressed completely through the bark and into the outer wood of the tree.
“OW! OW! OW! SHIT! FUCK!” she panted in a strained cadence as she forced her hands to let go and with extreme care readjusted her grip. She tenderly eased herself back up to lean against the trunk of the tree, wincing as the bark pulled loose from her skin. As fresh blood welled up from dozens of tiny cuts and tears, a new message appeared in darker silver text in front of her displayed stats.
Status Afflicted: [Minor Bleeding]!
Feeling insulted by the rather obvious message, she couldn’t help but to blurt out “I know I’m fucking bleeding here god-dam-” Her jaw snapped shut in surprise as she saw her health tick down by three points. What silenced her wasn’t seeing the numbers, but the feeling that passed through her mind and body as it happened. It was an unpleasant mixture of a moment of faint weakness flavored with hints of nervous fear. As she focused her attention more closely on her health numbers she was overcome with a sense of ominous dread. The silvery text gave her no answers, but she suddenly knew with every fiber of her being that allowing her health to drop to zero was a very bad thing. She was suddenly afraid, more than she had been when she was falling, even more afraid than when the eagle had screamed and hurt her so badly. Because now she knew without knowing how that zero health points was THE END. As this realization struck her, Morgan felt another pulse of weakness and saw her health drop three more points. She felt it, without being able to explain it even to herself. Her instincts told her that the stat labeled “CON”, her constitution, affected her health, so she quickly dumped five of her remaining forty-three points into it.
Increasing her CON did indeed increase her health pool, but to her horror and dismay it increased the maximum while doing nothing for her steadily dropping current health. Her maximum health grew by thirty points to a total of a hundred and four, and the increase was followed not by muscle cramps as she had experienced when she increased her strength, but instead a wave of nausea and lightheadedness. Another pulse marked another three health points lost, dropping her to sixty-five. The pulses seemed to hit every tenth or so heartbeat, and Morgan knew she would not have very long, a minute at most, if the bleeding did not stop soon.
“Lets try vitality instead,” she hoarsely groaned, still dizzy and nauseated by the fact that her health was almost halfway gone. Before she could lose another chunk of health she looked at her stats. With an all or nothing thought she added ten points to her VIT stat, leaving her with only thirty-three points. Not that Morgan had time to consider points of any sort as she felt her heart stop. And then she felt a THUMP! in her chest that radiated outwards like an electrical jolt. Barely managing to keep her balance in the tree she saw her stamina had jumped to eighty-four, but more importantly the next dreaded pulse from the bleeding only cost her two points of health. She held her breath for a few heartbeats but the next pulse didn’t arrive. And then her health ticked back up a single point, and she released the air she’d held in her lungs, gasping for more and nearly hyperventilating in relief. She had been given no message, but somehow she simply knew she was no longer afflicted with the bleeding status. Her maximum stamina had increased, and now her current stamina had begun to regenerate, slightly faster than her health.
“Oh thank God!” she sobbed. Morgan’s entire evening had been a frantic rollercoaster ride of emotional ups and downs and even some side to sides and stops and starts, and she didn’t even understand herself how she was managing to hold it together as well as she was. After nearly a full minute of simply leaning against the tree trunk, she realized that the bark of the tree wasn’t digging into her skin as painfully as before. Consciously thinking about it brought the knowledge into her mind; her CON stat affected not only her total health but her general toughness and resilience as well. She saw her current health march up another tick. It wasn’t coming back very fast, but it was coming back. Slow was better than nothing, after all. With new determination, she once again looked at the stats section of her status screen:
Status Information for: Morgan Mackenzie
Level - 6
Primary Class: [Locked]
Secondary Class: [Locked]
Health - 67/104
Stamina - 28/84
Mana - 36/36
STR - 11
AGI - 5
CON - 9
VIT - 14
INT - 6
Stat points available to distribute: 33
Current Skills: None
Basic Skills now available for purchase!
Skill Points available: 50
Note to self: DO NOT dump points into stats all at once! Morgan mentally scolded herself with a weary sigh. She realized the obvious correlation between her sudden seizure and spending stat points to more than double her strength. The sudden shock and energy from vitality made a sort of sense, but she had no idea why constitution made her feel sick by increasing her health pool. Such considerations had soon dropped from her immediate priority list as yet another sensation quite rudely intruded upon her already quite miserable state of existence.
Hunger. Morgan felt a growing hollowness in her belly, reminiscent of visits to doctor clinics for tests where she had not been allowed to eat the day before. Not quite to the point of pain, but with a low growl her empty stomach announced that it intended to not be ignored for much longer. Realizing she would not be allowed to stay in her tree for much longer, she went back to her stats with the intent of figuring if any of them might somehow provide a way for her to safely make the perilous descent.
Tentatively she put a point into AGI and waited. With only a slight shiver affecting her body it was hardly an effort to keep her balance in the tree this time. She repeated this process every thirty or so heartbeats until her agility stat was equal to her strength. As she had increased the attribute much more slowly this time, she almost did not notice the effect. It took her several moments of introspection to realize she no longer felt dizzy when she glanced towards the ground, and balancing herself on her craggy perch was much easier to do. Morgan’s body simply knew how to stay centered on the branch without her conscious mind having to concentrate on it, and keeping her tender parts away from the sharper outcroppings of the rough bark was so easy it was barely an afterthought. “Oh now THAT is a definite improvement!” she quipped out loud. With her mood slightly improved, albeit with her hunger even more noticeable, she moved on to the last of her attributes.
Morgan’s intuition correctly pointed towards the INT statistic being related to the mind as the others had the body. Thusly forewarned by previous experience, she braced herself for a headache or worse as she added a point to the intellect attribute. There was no headache, but she did feel her mind become a little less muddled. Another two points and she felt somewhat lightheaded, but it quickly passed after a few deep breaths. With her mind becoming sharper each step of the way, she gradually increased her INT to match her VIT, leaving her with twenty points left. While more than doubling her initial intellect as a stat brought no epiphany or revelation, she did find herself getting more solid impressions of what her different stats did whenever she focused on that part of the translucent text floating in front of her eyes. She also found that it did not so much impede her vision as she simply saw both the floating words and the forest vista before her at the same time. With that particular paradox threatening to give her a headache, she switched to putting points into her constitution. More health can’t ever be a bad thing, she thought to herself as she remembered how close she’d come to dying several times merely in the first five minutes of appearing in this strange and frightening world.
Each increase to her CON was followed by another mild but noticeable wave of what she could only describe as a full body nausea that did not play nice with her growing hunger. It finally dawned on Morgan that her body was literally changing itself with every point she spent increasing her attributes. She found that fact less disturbing than the realization that she didn’t find it disturbing. With her total health now increased, and not all that keen on experiencing any more unpleasant waves of sickness, she incrementally spent the rest of her points on her VIT.
While she was happy to see her total maximum health increase, she realized it was truly only as useful to her as much as she had the ability to recover it. Each point she spent on VIT was accompanied by a corresponding rush and feeling of energy, and her maximum stamina grew accordingly. She felt more than saw her current health, stamina, and mana pools begin to tick upwards much faster. As her remaining distributable stat points dropped to zero, she checked her main status once again as hunger gnawed sharply in her gut.
Status Information for: Morgan Mackenzie
Level - 6
Primary Class: [Locked]
Secondary Class: [Locked]
Health - 73/140
Stamina - 41/168
Mana - 41/84
STR - 11
AGI - 11
CON - 15
VIT - 28
INT - 14
Stat points available to distribute: 0
Current Skills: None
Basic Skills now available for purchase!
Skill Points available: 50
With her increased vitality bringing a noticeable increase to her regen, Morgan focused her attention on her available skill points in the hope that something there might possibly lead to her finding her way down from the tree and towards something safer. Hopefully with food, her increasingly insistent innards reminded her with another gurgling growl. “Skills!” she said out loud, and as expected another menu overlay appeared.
Skill Acquisition Menu
Skill points may be spent to gain new techniques and traits to enhance your capabilities! Skills that are available for purchase will vary depending on your level and your previous accomplishments! Due to your previous methods and circumstances for reaching your levels and milestones, several Basic skills have been modified and are now available! Choose carefully, as some skills are incompatible with each other or certain classes and may lead to future restrictions on available skill and class selection. Other skills may provide bonuses in tandem or even unlock new and unique skills and classes in the future!
Available Skills:
[Naked Instinct(Passive)] - [5 Skill Points] Due to earning the Aspect [Naked Survival], the skill [Survival Instincts] has been modified and purchase cost reduced by 50%. While naked you are bare before the dangers of the world and need every edge you can get to help you survive! This skill improves all of your senses in order to help you detect impending danger. The [Naked] version of this skill will also help you detect possible beneficial situations! May receive bonus improvements from other [Naked] skills.
[Naked Resilience(Passive)] - [5 Skill Points] Due to earning the Aspect [Naked Survival], the skill [Natural Resilience] has been modified and purchase cost reduced by 50%. That which does not kill you makes you stronger! This skill improves your chances of gaining resistances to any negative status effect or damage type you are exposed to. Repeated or continuous exposure increases resistances over time. The [Naked] version of this skill improves your chances of gaining new resistances and improves the rate at which learned resistances increase! May receive bonuses from other [Naked] skills.
[Naked Recovery(Channeled)] - [10 Skill Points] Due to earning the Aspect [Naked Survival], the skill [Recovery] has been modified and purchase cost reduced by 50%. Eventually everyone falls, but sometimes they get back up again! This skill allows you to recover health at an increased rate while channeled, at the expense of Stamina. Health recovery rate and Stamina cost per second dependent on skill level and possible bonuses and/or negative status effects. The [Naked] version of this skill also recovers Mana in addition to health, and instantly recovers a small portion of both Health and Mana upon activation! May receive bonuses from other [Naked] skills.
[Naked Camouflage(Channeled)] - [10 Skill Points] Due to earning the Aspect [Naked Survival], the skill [Camouflage] has been modified and purchase cost reduced by 50%. Mighty enemies or juicy prey, sometimes it’s better not to be seen in the first place! This skill allows you to blend in with your surroundings while channeled, reducing the chances you will be noticed at the expense of Stamina. Effectiveness depends on skill level and the skills and abilities of the ones you are hiding from, in addition to possible bonuses and/or negative status effects. The [Naked] version of this skill also expends Mana in order to suppress your natural life energy, further decreasing your chances of being detected! May receive bonuses from other [Naked] skills.
[Naked Weapons(Activated)] - [20 Skill Points] Due to earning the Aspect [Naked Survival], the skill [Natural Weapons] has been modified and purchase cost reduced by 50%. Sometimes what you were born with is all you have to rely on! This skill hardens your body when you strike or are struck by enemies, allowing you to deliver devastating impacts with your own body, or reducing damage you take by a significant amount at the cost of Stamina. Effectiveness depends on skill level and stats, in addition to possible bonuses and/or negative status effects. The [Naked] version of this skill enhances this effect at the added cost of Mana, thickening your skin into a tough layer similar to tree bark, stone, or even metals at higher levels! May receive bonuses from other [Naked] skills.
[Naked Magic(Activated)] - [20 Skill Points] Due to earning the Aspect [Naked Survival], the skill [Basic Magic] has been modified and its purchase cost reduced by 50%. Some people throw their fists, but some throw fire and lightning! This skill provides the basic ability to manipulate the elements of Mana that flow in and around you, at the cost of Mana. Continuous training and experience will lead to finer control and senses of individual elements of magic. True dedication may lead to enhanced affinity for specific elements or types of magic. The [Naked] version of this skill further enhances your ability to control the primal forces, increasing the rate at which you develop affinities and future magical skills. May receive bonuses from other [Naked] skills.
Morgan took a few minutes to read the descriptions of the skills presented to her. The list itself was quite long, but many options were dim to her eyes with a [Conditions not met.] in place of a skill description. From what names she could see, most of those seemed to be related to weapons or armor, and she had neither of such things available anyway. None of the skills shown in her list cost more than her fifty available points to spend, so Morgan assumed it only showed her skills she could actually afford to get.
The first four skills Morgan considered absolutely necessary. A way to avoid danger was so appealing as to cause her to salivate, although that may have also been because of her extreme levels of hunger. This made [Naked Instinct] and [Naked Camouflage] the first things she spent her skill points on. She hesitated for a moment because of the [Naked] part, but it was a very short moment. Morgan saw no equivalent skills providing similar options without the “Naked” part tacked onto it in her list of available options, and she was already naked. It’s not like I can get any more naked than I already am, she thought to herself as she mentally okayed the brief “Are you sure?” confirmation messages. In the space of time between one heartbeat and the next, Morgan felt her entire existence shift.
After a brief flash of disorientation that was over faster than it was possible for her to measure, Morgan’s entire body froze into perfect stillness and her eyes snapped their focus to a patch of movement in the distant treetop canopy. The wind had been rustling the leaves and branches of the forest all around her as long as she had been sitting in the tree, but she could tell that this particular spot of movement was not the wind. After a few moments she relaxed again, once her senses confirmed it was moving away from her location and not towards her, thus most likely not a threat at that moment in time. She could see other things in the forest as well, not clearly, but vague impressions as her gaze roamed back and forth across the verdant landscape. A particularly shadowy area seemed to radiate danger, while another gave her a simple blank feeling, and yet another area with a twinkling glimmer between the trees assured her that water could be found in that direction. The urge to head in that direction was suddenly quite strong, and Morgan then realized she was as thirsty as she was hungry. The impulse was so intense that before she realized it Morgan had shifted her hands and feet on her branch and started looking for a way down. That is, until she looked down towards the roots spread all over the hill her tree was growing out of, and the sudden sense of danger caused her to instinctively flatten herself onto the limb once more. She felt the sudden drop in her stamina and another pull on her mind that had to be mana as [Naked Camouflage] activated in response to what she saw below her.
The ground around the tree was moving. Before acquiring the skill such movements had been imperceptible to Morgan’s senses, but under the effects of [Naked Instinct] it stood out so severely that she was hard pressed to imagine how she could have missed it before. As she watched from above, the rippling shadows resolved themselves into roots. They writhed and slowly crept their way towards the fallen nest and the crushed and mangled bodies of the eagle family that had so precipitously gifted Morgan with the experience points and levels to acquire her newly improved stats and skills. As she shifted her gaze to the very tree she was clinging to, however, her newly improved instinct was giving her the opposite impression. One of safety that told her on some level to simply wait, and be still. Not one to argue with such a powerful instinct in light of her short but intense time in this new world, Morgan did just that as she relaxed and let go of [Naked Camouflage].
Morgan was acutely aware of just how vulnerable and basically helpless she was in her current situation. The flashy messages and menus displayed in her vision may have given her a few answers and definitely saved her life with the regeneration provided by her newly boosted Vitality, but the simple fact that it was happening at all spawned more questions in her mind than she could list if she had days to sit and contemplate. She was absolutely certain about a few things, however. Apparently I’m not dead, but in another world, she told herself. And it works differently from Earth, that’s for sure. And I’m stuck in a giant fucking tree. Naked. And cold. And hungry. And if a giant SOMETHING doesn’t eat me, a goddamn tree has me stuck here while its creepy fucking roots do god knows what…
Morgan inwardly turned back to her skills menu and read through the descriptions again. [Naked Resilience] did not seem to provide any immediate benefit, but she was pretty sure that resistances to harmful things would be vital to her survival. After all, from what she had seen so far, every single thing that existed in this world intended her harm. First the birds, and now even the tree in which she was tentatively taking shelter seemed to be of nefarious intent. She spent the ten skill points to acquire the skill and waited for the inevitable feelings of drastic changes in her body, but a single heartbeat turned into ten turned into a full minute, and she felt no different. Relieved, she continued her perusal.
The skill [Naked Recovery] was also pretty much a no-brainer from what she could tell. She had no gear, no medical supplies, and while Morgan was no stranger to the outdoors, she had no guarantees she would ever find such things in this strange new world. Reassured by the lack of side effects from purchasing the previous skill, she spent the required points for [Naked Recovery] and immediately understood that this time something was very different. Morgan’s heart jackhammered a staccato beat as it tried to pound her rib cage open from the inside. She had been crouching on all fours on the tree limb and the only thing that saved her from falling off was the fact that her muscles once again seized up. Her fingers buried themselves into the tree. Her recently increased Constitution kept the bones in her hands from breaking and the skin from tearing, but only just. Not that she could appreciate such merciful coincidence.
Morgan Mackenzie was burning. Nothing in the context of her entire twenty two years of experience living her life could have prepared her to anticipate what was set in motion within her body once she acquired the skill [Naked Recovery], and she had not been graced by fate in order to have met someone who could have explained it to her. Self-healing [Recovery] type skills in her new world were not even all that powerful, not in the greater schema of the universe. Nor were they typically uncommon, although Morgan was decidedly unique in unlocking a [Naked] twist on the usual iteration of it. Unfortunately for her, all abilities that allowed for a person to consciously heal their own injuries and wounds did have one thing in common: in order to consciously and directly heal the body, the brain must be able to sense the body. While that may eventually one day seem to be a simple concept to Morgan, any possible chance of her pondering the matter right then were effectively zero. For the simple fact of the matter was, the body and its system of nerves were not made to convey that much information about that many things, nor the brain naturally able to deliver such information directly to the conscious mind. Thusly, they both had be forcibly adapted to the [Skill].
Raw, primal mana pulsed through every fiber of Morgan’s body. Her face and jaw clenched in a grim rictus as every slam of her heartbeat drove the agony to greater heights. She could feel her nerves being torn apart and rewoven, every moment more and more information and sensations pushed into her mind, a mind that was woefully inadequate for the task of interpreting such a flood of knowledge. She could feel her sanity begin to fray as the pain stretched out the moment like a rubber band just before the snap. And then as suddenly as it started the pain and pressure vanished, leaving Morgan panting to catch her breath. Before she could even begin to re-assess her body’s condition, notifications intruded once more upon her attention.
You have gained the Skill [Pain Resistance]!
[Pain Resistance] has reached Level 2!
[Pain Resistance] has reached Level 3!
Status afflicted: [Starvation] You are starving! All regen disabled!
Status afflicted: [Weakness]! All stats reduced!
That last one is kinda obvious, she thought to herself. The first knowledge her new skill was providing her with was that such fundamental changes to her body had required fuel, and it had used her body’s reserves for that purpose. She had not lost any health from the transformation, and as it had been steadily ticking upwards before this point she now had over two-thirds of her total. But the last of her body’s nutrient reserves had been used up completely, and once those ran out the magic had begun to devour her other tissues. Looking down at herself only confirmed what the extra senses were already telling her. Her body was now gaunt and hideously skinny. Her ribcage was grotesquely pronounced, as were her hips and her arms and legs with knobby knees and gangly elbows. Her breasts had gone from the smaller side of average down to almost totally non-existent.
Carefully she pried her hands out of the crushed tree bark. She almost laughed out loud upon noticing that her loofah scrubby was still with her, although now rather filthy and smushed into the bark of the tree when she had latched on. Morgan held onto it as if it were her last lifeline connecting her back to her familiar apartment. The spark of humor and remembrance only lasted an instant, however, because her hunger was no longer something that could be ignored. She felt increasingly lethargic and noticeably weaker, although not as weak as before she had increased her strength. At least not quite. With her increasingly desperate hunger she pried up a small piece of the bark from the tree, as that was the only thing in her reach she might possibly have a chance at chewing. It tasted like cardboard and dirt, and expanded her mind’s definition of the word “dry”, but she was able to just barely work up enough saliva to manage to swallow the scratchy lump. She was about to take a second bite but was interrupted by a sudden spike in her [Naked Instinct]. It wasn’t the same feeling as the crawly fear the roots had spurred within her. It wasn’t even fear, exactly, but it was extremely powerful and intense, and she was paralyzed in the face of it. And then the tree began to shake, causing her to cling tight once again, as another notification popped into her head.
By offering your defeated foes to feed its roots, you have reawakened a:
[Tree of Mana(Legendary Tree, Guardian of the Forest, Father of Faeries)]!
The Tree has granted you it’s favor!
You have gained the Title: [Blessed of the Guardian Tree]! You need never fear its hungry roots! Future offerings or actions that benefit the tree may enhance this TItle!
She did not notice this new influx of information, as the struggle to not fall out of the tree required all of her attention and effort in her weakened state. She did however notice that not only was the tree shaking, it was glowing. A pale warm light, low in intensity but definitely there, began emanating from the roots on the ground. Flashes of green and gold pulsed along the ever-brightening roots. The shaking became more intense the brighter the light became, threatening to dislodge Morgan from its branches. The massive clearing occupied by the tree was illuminated in stark relief as light poured out from between cracks and fissures in the bark. The tree stopped shaking suddenly as the light faded to almost nothing. Silence thundered through the forest as if a great pressure held everything still for a single moment, pregnant with expectation. Morgan could not have made a sound or drawn a breath no matter how hard she might try.
And then with a GROAN that was felt more than heard, the tree was growing, and Morgan found herself pressed into her tree limb as she was pushed farther towards the sky. The strobing light could be felt in the air, a pulsing power that throbbed in her bones. A dozen feet, two dozen, then more. The broken ends of the forked branch that she occupied suddenly cracked and split as new green shoots exploded forth. The main trunk of the tree widened with rippling cracks and crunching noises and old, withered bark was pushed away to fall to the ground by a fresh and vibrant grey-brown mottled covering. More branches sprouted both above and below Morgan, with shoots and leaves forming a massive sheltering canopy. The shed bark began to crumble underneath her hands and feet so she scrambled backwards to brace herself against the trunk. To her bewilderment the tree trunk was no longer behind her and she tumbled backwards in fright, certain she was falling to her death. But she simply fell flat on her back into the newly formed hollow just below the canopy. The tree had split into several branching trunks that kept growing up and splitting off more of themselves, leaving a small almost flat space only a few paces across in the center. Morgan scrambled right to the middle of it, clutching her loofah to her chest protectively. Exhausted, starving, terrified, lonely, and of course still naked, she did the only thing she had the strength to accomplish with her entire world shaking around her. Morgan Mackenzie simply sat down and waited.
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 2: Survival, with a side of screaming.",
"author": "a_man_in_black",
"chapters": 51,
"rating": 4.7,
"rating_ct": 120,
"genre": [
"Action",
"Adventure",
"Drama",
"Fantasy",
"LitRPG",
"Mature",
"Mecha",
"Sci-fi"
],
"tags": [
"Accelerated Growth",
"Adventurers",
"Alternate World",
"Beautiful Female Lead",
"Blacksmith",
"Character Growth",
"Divination",
"Dungeons",
"Game Elements"
]
}
|
Morgan Mackenzie was starving to death. Merely an hour earlier she had been safe and sound in her apartment taking a bath. At the moment she found herself on an alien world, apparently one with magic based on a fantasy game. She had fallen through some kind of hole in reality, bathtub and all. Landing on a nest of some sort of terrifyingly huge giant birds had both granted her some levels, points, and titles while at the same time nearly killing her before she had any chance to get her bearings. The nest and the family of birds had fallen to the ground to be eaten by the roots of the tree, while Morgan learned some rather important lessons about spending too many points and forcing sudden drastic changes on her body. The shaking of the tree had settled down compared to its original burst of rampant growth, and the accompanying light show had travelled up the trunk and into the massive crown of branches that had suddenly grown out from its heart. The light made the night as bright as day, albeit a rather green hued one. Morgan Mackenzie clutched her only possession from Earth to her chest like the scrubby loofah was the last tenuous link holding her sanity together. It was all simply too much for the young woman to process.
Magic. A magic world. Several near death experiences, existential terror, floating messages she could interact with, and points and skills and other things that looked like a game but were most certainly far more deadly and serious. A veritable roller coaster of changes to her body resulting in her currently emaciated frame. And to top it all off she was naked as well. She blinked tears from her eyes and glumly considered her glowing silvery status screen:
Status Information for: Morgan Mackenzie
Level - 6
Primary Class: [Locked]
Secondary Class: [Locked]
Health - 73/140
Stamina - 41/168
Mana - 41/84
STR - 11
AGI - 11
CON - 15
VIT - 28
INT - 14
Stat points available to distribute: 0
Current Skills:
[Naked Instinct]
[Naked Resilience]
[Naked Recovery]
[Naked Camouflage]
[Pain Resistance(Lvl 3)]
Skill Points available: 20
Titles, Mantles, and Aspects
[Worldwalker(Title)] - You have travelled through the void between the many worlds! Every world is different, each with its own gifts and dangers. To help you survive strange new places you gain a slight boost to health and an increased ability to learn new things! (+50 to Health, +50% increased gains to Skill Experience)
[Blessed of the Guardian Tree(Title)] - Through an offering of the blood of your enemies you have reawakened the ancient tree! You need never fear its hungry roots! Future offerings or actions that benefit the tree may enhance this TItle!
[Naked Survivor(Aspect)] - You have defeated foes and increased your own power while [Naked] and [Unequipped]! For gaining five or more levels in this manner without the benefits of any [Class] you have gained this Aspect. Experience gained and points rewarded are doubled while you are [Naked] and [Unequipped]. Equipping clothing or items of any type will disable this Aspect. Facing further challenges and reaching new milestones of personal growth while [Naked] and [Unequipped] will enhance this Aspect for even greater benefit.
Afflictions and effects:
[Starvation] - All regen effects disabled!
Morgan was resolved not to repeat the same mistake of spending points without at least a little bit of thought and consideration. Acquiring [Naked Recovery] had changed her, and used her body’s last reserves to do it. Her health and stamina and mana were not actively draining away, but they were no longer recovering either. The changes brought on by learning the skill were providing her with a wealth of information in the back of her mind. Just by thinking about it, she could tell exactly how bad her [Starvation] status was. She could feel the state of her very bones, and everything outward. Not just her lack of any remaining body fat reserves but the strain on her organs to simply keep going. She could also feel older injuries, the hardened places where she had fractured bones growing up, the scar tissue around wounds long forgotten. She could even feel her own reproductive organs and knew exactly where she was in her ovulation cycle. It would have been a case of too much information for Morgan, but apparently the changes wrought by the skill allowed her to keep it all walled off in her mind unless she actively looked, even though it was quite disturbing at first.
Her internal musings were interrupted by the tree once again. The shaking had stopped completely, but the light grew brighter and brighter. Morgan was briefly afraid she’d end up blinded as she could see the bright pulses even though her closed eyelids. With a sudden gigantic FWOOMP the light vanished, and Morgan gazed upwards in stunned wonder. The withered tree she had landed in was no more. In its place was a gigantic sprawling canopy of vibrant green. While the verdant layers of giant oak-like leaves blocked the light of the two moons, the undersides of the leaves pulsed gently with a soft green glow. The effect gave the pale radiance a shimmering effect on everything it shone down upon, like the gentle ripples across nearly still water. The effect was stunningly beautiful, surely something no mortal eyes had witnessed in millenia, if not longer. And Morgan didn’t notice any of it, nor would she have paid it any bit of attention in the slightest if she had. In her starving condition, every single fiber of her being was focused on one single thing: the tree had grown fruit.
The tree had grown a lot of fruit. Hundreds upon hundreds of radiant reddish-golden fruits. Morgan scrambled to her feet, even the scrubby loofah forgotten as her senses from [Naked Instinct] informed her that these fruits were indeed edible. There was a tinge of danger about them, but she was not able to pay that any attention in the face of her hunger. The closest fruit to her current position was in a cluster of three that were hanging in a clump almost right above her, but at least ten feet higher than she could reach with her feeble jumping. [Starvation] and her emaciated muscles simply left her too weak to manage any effective way to get to them. There were no branches in reach she could have used to climb, and the rejuvenated bark of the tree was smooth and offered no purchase for her weakened grip. They looked somewhat like cherries, or apples, but enlarged to almost half the size of basketballs. The very sight of them made Morgan’s mind scream thoughts like tasty and juicy and yes please!!!
With a whimper she brought up her status menu once more. She had twenty points left to spend on skills, and hoped against hope that something there would provide an option for her to reach this suddenly appearing food. Preferably before any changes that her body was forced to experience rendered her dead after all. She was almost certain that picking [Naked Weapons] would force even harsher changes on her body, and she hadn’t been all that enamoured by the thought of turning her skin to bark or stone in the first place, even before her starved condition came about. That left [Naked Magic]. There may have been other skills farther down the list, but she was in no state to waste time considering. Holding her breath and hoping she would gain some way to knock down some of the fruit, she spent her last twenty skill points and promptly passed out.
She woke up in the middle of her ensuing collapse, not enough time having passed for her to even fall completely to the floor of the hollowed out center of the tree. She felt like she was falling, but the moment stretched out in slow motion. She could feel yet another new sensation in her body now, that thankfully was not converting the last of her muscle tissues in order to change her body. It was a buzzing kind of tingling that she could feel from her head down to her toes. It pulsed along with her bloodstream, and felt the most intense in her head and around her heart. Morgan barely had time to assimilate this new feeling before time caught up with her and she fell flat on her back, the air driven from her lungs with a “WHUFF!”
The expulsion of breath and the impact was followed by a simultaneous drop of her health by a few points, but also of her mana. The part that left Morgan equally shocked and hopeful was the audible pulse of force that emanated from her body, causing the tree to shudder and the fruits to shake slightly. The silvery message now floating in her eyes was one that left her almost giddy.
You have learned the Spell [Mana Pulse]! Project a wave of raw magic away from your body at the cost of Mana! Practice and experience will help you control the released energy and increase its efficiency!
For a few moments Morgan forgot even her starvation, overcome by sudden excitement. With wide eyes she held the scrubby loofah up before her face and babbled “Oh my god did you see I just did MAGIC!”
She got back to her feet, shaking with excitement and anticipation, and eagerly pointed at the fruits right above her head and shouted “MANA PULSE!” at the top of her lungs. And nothing happened, much to her consternation and no small bit of embarrassment.
Okay, she thought with a feeling of chagrin and self-reproach. Slow down and figure this out. Everything about the announcements and messages and the status menu had worked on thought and willpower so far. So i shouldn’t assume spells and skills are any different at all, she told herself. A quick check told her that she had thirty five mana remaining, so it had cost her six points for a relatively small and weak wave of force. If it cost her six every time, then she only had five more tries to knock some fruit down where she could get it.
She looked up at the fruit once more, raising a hand towards it. With a deep breath she concentrated on how much she wanted the fruit. She needed that fruit. She let the part of her brain that could feel the buzzing energy gather up a bit of it, and imagined it simply pushing towards her desperately needed meal. A tingly feeling like her whole arm had been asleep built up, but she willed it towards the palm of her hand and to her surprise it actually began to obey. Her hand began to tremble and felt as if too much blood was being squeezed into it and suddenly the magic broke free from her hand with a “WHUMP” while half of her remaining mana vanished in an instant.
An elongated -the only word Morgan could think of to describe it was lump- of distorted purple and blue energy shot upwards. The lump of compressed mana slammed into the lowest hanging fruit and then the second, splattering both into a juicy spray of pulp that coated the hollow of the tree and a suddenly very dizzy girl in a generous layer of sticky purple jelly. The sudden drop in her mana had left Morgan extremely light-headed and dazed. She slowly scrubbed at her face with the loofah, but some of the jelly made it into her mouth and all other thoughts were driven from her brain. To say it tasted merely good was to blaspheme against the very concept of food.
Just the tiny bit that had passed her lips into her mouth sent a riot of sensation through her body. She could feel her internal reserves being restored just a tiny bit, and a tingling rush hit her brain like a locomotive. The initial rush left her weak in the knees in a manner she most certainly did not expect in her current situation. With a gasping moan she melted down into the hollow of the tree, and was about to start licking the pulpy mess off of her hands by sheer reflex when a light “thump” heralded the third fruit falling in front of her. The sticky mass of jelly in her hair and on her body instantly forgotten, she dropped the now fruity loofah in order to seize the giant red fruit in trembling hands. If merely a taste had done that, then how much better would an actual bite be? A whole fruit? Without any further hesitation, she sank her teeth into it. The closest she could come to describing it would be the soft meat of a cherry with the crisp flavor of a juicy apple, but so much more intense. Every bite she took sent climactic waves of satisfaction through her entire body that were almost enough to break through her extreme hunger. By the third bite she felt the [Starvation] affliction drop back down to [Hunger]. Three more bites and that was gone as well, and she felt her resource pools tick back up slightly. Mana increased by the most, but she could feel health and stamina returning as well.
With her extreme hunger no longer forcing itself on her attention, she was able to slow down a tiny bit. Not much, considering how delectably orgasmic the fruit was for her to consume, but enough for her to regain a little bit of influence over her thoughts and mind. To her senses enhanced by [Naked Recovery] the delicious meal was like glowing bits of radiant contentment that settled in her belly; a more satisfying afterglow than any sex she had ever experienced. She could feel more than see the flecks of glowing energy dispersing into her blood, and everywhere they went her body was restored bit by bit. It was a slow process, but she could sense her body beginning to fill back out. Her ribs were no longer so pronounced and her bottom didn’t feel so bony as she sat on the smooth bark of her treetop alcove. The sensual pleasure crashing through her body with every mouthful only seemed to grow in intensity, but at the same time she found herself more able to endure it, writhing and whimpering as she continued to eat.
All too soon the fruit was entirely consumed, and Morgan only stopped licking the sticky remains off her hands and arms when she got a mouthful of nasty tasting bird splatter that still covered half her body. She gagged and spluttered as she spit that back out with a grimace, but the experience was enough to shock her back to some semblance of self control. There was absolutely zero chance of her managing to stand back up, not with such sensations shuddering through her body every other minute or so. Despite that, she vastly preferred this situation over the extreme pain and discomfort she’d experienced every other time something happened to her in this new world. The sum of her experiences since arriving in this strange new place had been one terrifying crisis after another, and while suddenly unexpected waves of euphoria were something she had never asked for, Morgan decided they were a much better situation than being eaten. With her resource pools slowly but steadily on their way back to safe levels, and nothing trying to kill her right at this moment, she picked up her scrubby loofah and hugged it once again before seeing to the worst of the sticky mess all over her body. There was a limit to how well she could clean up without a source of water though, and soon the lacy puff of loofah was saturated with sticky fruit juice and pulp and a good bit of grime and bird mess.
“All covered in… fruity stuff..” Morgan said to the loofah in her hands. “I’ll just call them churples, because they look like cherries and taste like apples and giant-” She paused with a gasp as another wave of pleasure interrupted her train of thought. “Uh… and calling them giant fruit isn’t really a name…”
She felt extremely sleepy. The sheer insanity of her situation, the constant near death experiences had all took their toll, and while her body was healing because of the fruit she was simply exhausted down to her soul. When the next wave of sensation crashed through her she rode it on down and simply lay on her side, gently setting the fruit-saturated loofah on the floor as she fell into a still twitching sleep.
Morgan slept. Her meal of so recently named “churple” fruit kept working during her slumber, slowly restoring her pools of health and mana and stamina all the way to full. Her pleasant nap only lasted a scant few handfuls of minutes, however. Her eyes snapped open as [Naked Instinct] screamed in her mind with a sense of impending calamity. Her Recovery senses allowed her to see in frightening detail just how bad it was. The restorative energies from the fruit she’d so blithely named a “churple” had continued to flow into her body, pushing her health and stamina pools well past double the maximum provided by her current stats. Even more terrifying was that she could see the glowing essence of the fruit within her continuing to disperse into her blood and the rest of her tissues, and her mana pool was increasing far faster than stamina or health. Already she felt hot and fevered, and as her mana reached triple her normal maximum a new status message appeared:
Status Afflicted: [Mana Burn]! You have absorbed more Mana than your body can contain! This effect may stack for increased damage!
With the new status affliction Morgan could feel her fevered body heat up even further, and her steadily rising health points ceased ticking upwards. The increased heat seemed to cause the glow from the fruit inside her to intensify even more, dumping yet more of the extremely concentrated mana into her system. Staring up at the canopy she frantically repeated the same process that had originally splattered churple jelly everywhere. The first [Mana Pulse] didn’t even cause a noticeable change, as she felt her mana continue to skyrocket to four times her natural total. A notification she felt more than saw heralded another affliction of mana burn on top of the original, and Morgan felt her blood ignite. She had continued with more mana pulses, and feeling herself burning from the inside out she screamed and pushed with all her will in desperation. Her world was purple flame. Without realizing it she had managed to channel mana pulse into a continuous wave straight up and away from her body. Notifications went unheeded in her agony, but she could feel her health being burned away faster than the fruit essence restored it. She knew she had to recover her health, and the only way to do that was by dropping her efforts with mana pulse and switching to the healing skill. She was somehow managing to hold her mana stable with two stacks of mana burn, but her instincts warned her that another might be impossible to manage. As her health dropped down into the single digits, she went for it, grasping at her only chance.
The only thing that saved her was the initial restoration of health that came from activating [Naked Recovery], but it was a double edged gift. The skill also increased mana in its upgraded [Naked] form, and two stacks of mana burn became three. Her blood burned with even greater heat, and only another skill increase in [Pain Resistance] kept her conscious. Before her body was completely incinerated by rampant mana burn, salvation appeared before her eyes in the form of the most welcome notifications she had yet seen:
You have gained the Skill [Mana Resistance]!
You have gained the Skill [Mana Affinity]! Mana flows through your veins, and is bent to your will with ever increasing ease, increasing the effectiveness of your magic!
You have gained the Skill [Heat Resistance]!
You have learned the Skill [Spell Channelling]! Through experimentation and experience you have learned how to continuously channel spells at increased mana cost! Effectiveness and efficiency will improve through use!
Between the resistance skills and the newly acquired affinity, Morgan managed to bring her health back into the triple digits by an extremely slim margin. Another stack of mana burn forced her back to channeling [Mana Pulse] with all her might. The magic exploded upwards from her body like a raging purple torch that waxxed brighter in rhythm with her pounding heart. Her skin had begun to blister and crack, glowing blood seeping from the thin fissures and flashing to wispy vapor as soon as it left her body. When her health once again began to approach such critical levels as before, she swapped back to channeling her recovery ability. Each shift would herald another stack of [Mana Burn], followed by more resistance increases, more pain. Two more levels in [Mana Affinity] had enabled Morgan to force truly obscene amounts of power into the spell. Her vision had already failed her, the incandescence of her blood continuously burning away at her eyes from the inside. She found she needed no eyes to receive the notification messages. They appeared one after the other, an eternity of burning in between each silvery message of hope for her fraying sanity. Every level in resistances meant she lost less ground as she healed herself with [Naked Recovery], and she gained several levels in that skill as well.
Every stack added to [Mana Burn] made the heat even more intense. [Pain Resistance] gained levels rapidly as well, but it was barely enough to hold her mind in one piece. As Morgan let go of [Mana Pulse] to once again heal herself, [Mana Burn] reached the tenth stack.
[Mana Burn] has reached its maximum limit and triggered a [Mana Cascade]!
Morgan’s body thrashed as her [Pain Resistance] skill levels were rendered irrelevant before the onslaught. She no longer had to channel her pulse spell to expel the rampaging torrent of mana from her body, as it exploded forth in an incandescent wave that shook the ancient tree all the way to its roots. And then it was over. Her health was in the single digits, but she was alive somehow. Her body was ravaged from her bones all the way out to her blistered and cracked skin. She rolled over with a hacking cough, spitting up gritty ashen residue where her lungs had continuously smoldered while being healed. With an effort of will that she didn’t realize she possessed, she activated her recovery skill for just the time it took to heal her eyes enough to see. Her beloved loofah was amazingly still in the tree with her, albeit slightly singed and stained the color churple. As she clutched it to herself once again, one last notification made its presence known to her just as she lost consciousness.
You have survived a [Mana Cascade]! For achieving this feat under the Aspect [Naked Survival], the Aspect has increased in rank to become [Naked Affinity]!
This time Morgan slept until dawn.
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 3: Fruits of Thy Labors",
"author": "a_man_in_black",
"chapters": 51,
"rating": 4.7,
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|
Rella silently padded onto the balcony with the [Oracle]’s dessert on a plain wooden tray. She placed the fresh pastries on a low table next to the older woman’s partially eaten supper, then stood quietly to the side of the wicker chair in which her mistress rested. There had once been a time when Rella would have wondered why a blind woman liked to spend her evenings on a balcony overlooking the inland sea, but nowadays she took it in stride. The [Oracle] had other ways of seeing than her eyes, after all. Keeping alert for any requests from the priestess, she let her gaze wander over the moonlit waters. The Sea of Possibility, it was called, and the City of Possibility as well. Both were so named after the Temple of Possibility.
Life was never easy for a child alone in any city, and for girls it was even worse, but she was silently grateful to have lived in Possibility instead of anywhere else fate might have put her. At least here there are so many people with divine-touched classes that they keep most of the worst kinds of people away, she thought to herself. After all, people were rarely willing to give in to their debased nature when there was always a [Clairvoyant] or a [Truthspeaker] around. They and other similar classes could simply see through the walls or compell confessions, so such people of disturbing vices limited themselves to the licensed brothels or simply stayed away from the city.
Rella’s early childhood had been begging for scraps or stealing food on rare occasions, and showing up at the temple for the daily bread handouts. As she grew older and prettier, avoiding unwanted attention became even more difficult, even in a city such as Possibility. She had no inclination to join one of the brothels or take her chances on her own without some sort of patron, so when a scribe at the temple offered her a place as an attendant she had jumped at the opportunity for free meals and a safe place to sleep. She had thought that her next few years would have been scrubbing floors and emptying chamber pots, but to her quite happy surprise she had been tasked with attending the [Oracle] herself. Gifts as powerful as those granted to the [Oracle] came at a heavy price, and the woman had finally lost her physical sight as those gifts simply showed her too many things for a mortal mind to process.
She had no [Class] as of yet, even at fifteen winters of age. Rella had reached level ten, but the skills she had developed while living on the street had led to her only being given unpleasant options, such as thief, or swindler, or things even less savory. She had hoped working in the temple would provide her with more options so she had refused to choose right away. Surprisingly, the [Oracle] had insisted she attend classes with the other students and acolytes of the temple, so Rella had learned to read and write. After two years of spending time writing out letters dictated by her mistress and running them all over the temple grounds or into the city, the [Messenger] class had finally presented itself. Still she refused to commit to it. She had hoped to unlock even better options by studying various schools of divination offered by the temple, but had not yet had any luck. Predicting the future through ritual and rite was something only a few could learn, and truly prophetic gifts were handed out by the various deities, and that extremely sparingly. Rella’s internal musings were soon interrupted by the woman sitting next to her.
“Go ahead and finish off those pastries, girl. I always request extra just so I can share with you, but you always wait until you take the leftovers back to the kitchens to indulge yourself,” the woman grumbled at Rella.The girl did not take offense at her tone; they had fallen into a very comfortable kind of companionship over the previous three years. At least in private, anyway. After all, it was pointless to stay formal at all times around the person who helped you bathe and dress, and the [Oracle] was not one to bother with such wasteful awkwardness.
The older woman seemed to give a contented sigh as Rella devoured the remaining desserts, but the girl knew her mistress and her moods better than anyone else. She could tell the old woman was anxious about something, but she knew the [Oracle] would either tell her or not, and did not try to pry. It seemed her mistress was in a talkative mood this night, as she continued once Rella had washed the last of the pastries down with a glass of tea.
“Do you know why the priestesses and their ilk fawn so hideously for my favor, Rella?” the [Oracle] asked her, then continued as though she had already heard Rella’s reply. “I am old, and they each wish for me to name them as my successor.”
"They don't see the price you pay, mistress," Rella responded, unable to keep her disdain for the temple sycophants out of her voice. To the nightmares and visions that plagued the [Oracle] more nights than not, Rella was the woman's only witness and confidant. "They don't know what terrible things you dream, or how you weep from them." The blind woman turned her head in the girl’s direction, as if able to see right through the silk band that covered her eyes. For all she knew, the woman actually could see her. “They sense something coming, and fear because I keep silent. Every talent and god-touched from Eastharbor all the way north to Arctern has probably felt it. The possible futures are too chaotic to interpret, and this terrifies them.”
“I don’t understand, mistress,” Rella replied in confusion. “Why are they so afraid of vague premonitions and confusing visions? Aren’t they used to that?”
The [Oracle] replied with nothing more than a cryptic smile, which only heightened Rella’s confusion. “It is good that you ate something while you had the chance, girl. I wasn’t certain you would. You won’t have much of an appetite after, and it will help you recover your strength.”
“You’ve never spoken a word about my future since you took me in. Why now?” Rella asked with growing concern.
“Because the city is under attack while all foresight is disrupted, and the temple will be next,” The [Oracle] replied flatly.
Rella barely managed to contain her shock. “Who would dare? The City of Prophets stays neutral, and the Bargain of Kings means-”
“Absolutely nothing to the slavers from Deskren. They rarely get the chance to capture anyone with divination talents, and everyone’s been blinded for weeks. It presents an opportunity they’ll not be willing to miss.”
Rising panic threatened to choke Rella. The [Oracle] had spoken without a hint of fear, but with a touch of sadness. “Can we do anything at all?” the girl asked, as the older woman stood up from her chair and stepped forward to the balcony as if she could see it perfectly.
“We can do nothing,” said the [Oracle], “but you have a choice to make, and then you must flee, no matter which you decide. A True Vision comes, and it will be my last. I am simply too old to run.”
Rella had no words with which to respond. An [Oracle]’s True Visions were powerful, uncontrollable, and undeniable messages. They were sendings directly from the Goddess of Prophecy, and could herald anything from the fall of kingdoms to the birth of Heroes or the beginnings and endings of an Age. The woman standing before her had not spoken a True Vision in Rella’s entire lifetime. Rella stood with mouth agape, frozen in a sort of panic but unsure of what to do.
“Close your mouth before you catch flies girl,” the [Oracle] snapped at Rella. “We have some time yet. Not much, but enough for you to decide.”
“Decide what? Which way to run? If Deskren is attacking, you are the target they want most. As interesting as what I’ve read about True Visions is, I’m more interested in not wearing a slave collar.”
“To decide if you will accept the [Mantle of Prophecy] and become the next [Oracle], of course.”
Rella’s legs promptly gave out and she fell right on her rump on the stone balcony while the old woman cackled and bent over while clutching her sides. The sudden bruising on her backside did not even register as her face twitched back and forth between shock and surprise before sudden horror dawned as Rella realized the woman was utterly serious. “I don’t see what’s funny about it, mistress. The mantle is only passed on when an [Oracle] dies.”
“That definitely was funny, even knowing that you had a better than even chance of doing it! Better to laugh before one’s end than cry about it.” The [Oracle] straightened herself up and spoke again with a more serious tone. “Besides, it’s not all bad. My Sight gets clearer as the moment approaches. Deskren’s little raid won’t be as successful as they hoped. Tragic, yes, but no Age ends without bloodshed. But I am too old to run with you, and too recognizable. I will not survive the night no matter your choice, but I hope you will take the Mantle and flee. What was it you always said about growing up with the other children in the city? Survive now, cry later.”
“Yes,” Rella said in a half-whisper, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her temple attendant uniform. “But it’s been a long time since I actually had any practice at it.” Her stomach was turning flips under her heart, but she managed to keep from tossing up the recently-eaten pastries, if only just barely. “How will I run away in any case? Won’t I be blind to anything up close?”
“I can’t tell you everything, but I can say that you won’t lose your worldly sight for years, if at all. The Mantle itself will show you more, but it binds me from granting too much knowledge, as it will you. It affects every [Oracle] in different ways.”
Rella slowly got her feet under herself and stood back up, stepping to the balustrade next to her friend. “And if I refuse the Mantle?” she asked with a hesitant waver in her voice.
“Then you still flee, and I jump from this balcony before they can put one of their abominable collars round my neck, and the Mantle passes by the will of the Goddess alone. There’s still a chance it would fall on you in that case, anyway. A small one, but a chance nonetheless.”
“And if I accept? Will I be on the run forever, or bound to some ruler, collared in debt if not fact?”
The old woman snorted with derision “No [Oracle] has ever been so bound, unless they chose it to bring about a better possible future they saw. It takes a God’s intervention to blind the stronger seers, and more than Gods to blind the Mantle’s gifts. What’s coming isn’t their doing, or I would have already Seen.”
“I thought you were unable to talk to me about these things…” Rella’s mind was reeling at these new revelations. The [Oracle] never spoke about how the Mantle worked. “And how can anything do what the Gods cannot?”
“Some things simply cannot be foreseen. Elder Dragons are beyond any Sight or prediction. As are certain places like the Wildlands. Another thing none of us can predict are travellers arriving from other worlds. Worldwalkers simply cause so much change they leave the fates unstable when they step through to Anfealt. The [Oracle] announces these strangers only when they arrive. We are blind to them until they actually set foot here. And there are also exceptions from time to time, things Seen that we normally cannot, and things we simply do not See”
“If you can tell me all this, then that means at least part of me has decided.” Rella stated. “How will I know where to go or what to do?”
“The Mantle does not control the [Oracle], Rella. It simply gives knowledge. What you do with it is up to you.” The woman turned back to face out from the balcony, as if looking at the mountains across the inland sea. “There are gaps in the stone you can use to climb down from here. It was how I often got away from the temple without being seen when I was closer to your age. The city will not fall, not completely. You will at least be able to escape for now. Whether or not you return to the gibbering sycophants and their games will be up to you. Not every [Oracle] stays in the temple.”
Rella was about to respond, but as she opened her mouth to speak words fled. The mountains across the sea suddenly stood out in stark relief outlined in the night by flickering purple lights. The air around where she and the [Oracle] stood seemed to thicken, and Rella could no longer move, or even draw breath. The older woman’s hand snapped out and latched onto Rella’s wrist with more strength than she had ever shown in the years she had been the [Oracle]’s attendant. The moment the woman’s hand closed around her wrist, Rella received a notification.
The [Oracle] has invoked the RIght of Succession and offers you the
[Mantle of Prophecy]!
Will you accept this Gift and the Burdens it entails?
The air around Rella seemed to hold her in place as it waited, and the light over the mountains winked out, only to come back a heartbeat later with even more intensity. She could barely hear the older woman rasp “Choose, child, we are out of time!” And as the ominous purple lights flashed beyond the mountains once again, Rella made her Choice.
For a brief moment Rella’s mind shattered into a kaleidoscopic whirlwind of images, and then she felt a presence pushing the storm of confusion back. It is much easier this way, she heard the older woman’s voice in her mind. The burden of the transition is shared when the Mantle is passed in this manner. Those who aren’t so lucky often go insane if the others aren’t able to get through to them in time.
Rella’s awareness had expanded. She could sense the temple grounds behind them and the city below. What she had just been told finally pierced her moment of wonder, however. What do you mean the others? She thought.
The Mantle carries our predecessors, of course. It is one of the secrets we are incapable of speaking. There will be only me for now, but in time you will learn to call upon the others who once carried the Mantle. Rella could feel the humorous tones in the other woman’s mental voice. Her presence had a definite calming effect on the girl, otherwise Rella would have been swept away by the sheer amount of information she was taking in.
She could see the city with an odd, flickering detail. The outlines of people stood out as they moved around, seeming to dart in three or four directions at the same time before settling on a single direction. She could also see fighting, and the captured. The collars stood out to her vision like sickly glowing greasy ropes around necks, and gave her a feeling of utter revulsion. Deskren compulsion collars were illegal in every nation north of the Elemental Desert for a reason, and Rella could see that reason displayed in how the captives complacently marched themselves towards the docks and into the waiting ships. The sickened feeling in her belly reached new heights as she realized the smaller shapes had to be children. There has to be a way to save them, mistress! Rella thought at the other woman.
Not without letting them capture the [Oracle], and that would end with half the continent in chains. Did you think I did not try? That is the heaviest burden of the Mantle, to witness evil and do nothing, in order to avert even greater evil.
Rella could see violence playing out on the lower floors of the temple below them, but few of the guards had fallen. Close range precognitive abilities seemed to be affected by the disruption to a far lesser degree than divination had been, and nearly everyone employed by the temple had such skills in at least some measure. Her observations were brushed aside however, as the pressure around her and the [Oracle] increased. The whirlwind of visions swirling around them seemed to condense, like shattered glass reforming itself into tiny windows with spiderwebbed cracks. The jagged windows drew more of the smaller pieces into their edges, and clumped together to form larger and yet larger panes that gave glimpses of scenes that Rella’s mind simply could not place into context.
In one window she saw a giant cylinder painted white and blue, flying across the sky on wings that did not move. In another hundreds of structures rose from the ground, taller than anything she thought could be built, covered in glass and flashing lights and moving images of people in strange clothing. Metal and glass boxes moved more swiftly than any horse along grey paths with yellow lines, travelling past each other at terrifying speeds yet never touching. In other windows men and women in strange cloth-covered armor pointed even stranger weapons at each other that spat death, while behind them smaller flying things flew past so quickly the air itself was shattered in their wake, followed by stone and steel buildings simply vanishing in incomprehensible bursts of destruction.
The windows slowed as they clumped together into even larger panels; like crystals shattering in reverse, Rella could see the cracks melt and fade. Millions became thousands became hundreds became tens and then there were thirteen flickering doorways encircling the pair of women. Each door a window shifting between different visions with flashes of pale melting blurs. Rella found she could not turn her head or shift her attention away, and as one window slid out of her line of sight, the next came into view. The blurring shifts on its surface slowed, and then solidified in perfect clarity. Violet and silver lightning flashed stark shadows off the snow capped mountains onto the besieged city below. Standing hand in hand with Rella, the [Oracle] began to Speak.
“The Windows of Fate open yet again, Strangers tread these lands.” The [Oracle] did not raise her voice, yet the air carried her words. Rella could sense the entire city falling still, bound at attention by the power of a True Vision that compelled them to stop and hear the words.
“The Harlot tames the vicious night, strike her daughters at your peril!” and the scene in the window in front of Rella shifted to show a young woman in a flimsy dress running barefoot, chased by three rough looking men who were laughing. Her swollen eye and bruised neck told a story that needed no divination to guess. As one of the men closed on the girl and took a drunken swing, she hit back with a rock she had picked up. The man pushed her away with a snarl and the girl fell through a hole in the ground and appeared in another city. The gate disappeared, and the vision shifted from the confused men to the even more confused woman before the window slid away from view and another approached.
“The Hammer wields a widow’s grief, the prideful learn to kneel!” A man in a large building filled with shelves lined with boxes checks a slip of paper in his hand, then steps on a stool to reach one of them. With both his hands full he steps back down and falls, the floor no longer there behind him. Man and box both tumble into the snowy drifts several hundred paces away from the stone walls of a northern city, and the man stares in confusion and wonder.
“The General marches into blood and death, His Wife follows with healing hands!” In a crowded house full of partially-dressed people drinking from red cups and moving to music Rella could not hear, a man and a woman stumble drunkenly through a door into an empty room. The collapse onto a bed, only to land in the middle of a farmer’s field, asleep in drunken stupor.
“The Shadow grasps at every purse, yet she keeps nothing she takes!” A slim feminine figure with a hood drops a fat envelope made of finer parchment than Rella had ever seen into a blue box outside of a small brown building with signs printed in some unknown language. The woman walks across the street to where several of the strange wheeled contraptions were sitting, and as she passes between two of them the person vanished. They appeared on top of a building in a sprawling city surrounded by rolling fields, with a massive stone spire standing hundreds of feet tall in the background.
“The Dreamer sees what others miss, his mind a vault of knowledge!” A man scribbling strange symbols with chalk on a green panel turns around to tap small knobs on a little box with a glowing glass panel, then turns back to his scribbling. Between one step and the next he falls through the floor, landing in the middle of a busy street paved with smooth stones and lit by bright lanterns. The man and the surrounding people seem equally surprised.
“The Preacher finds his faith rekindled in a land where his God has no voice!” A man with close cropped grey hair and several days worth of stubble on his cheeks holds a clear bottle to his lips as he stands before four freshly filled graves. The two in the middle are significantly smaller in proportion to the outer burial patches. He sways side to side as he stumbles down the path away from the graves, and trips over his own feet. He lands on a hill overlooking a large body of water, and in the distance Rella can see the very city that has been her home.
“The Broken builds with steel and magic, to replace what could not be mended!” A woman seated in a strange chair with two large wheels and two small ones pulls herself up by a metal rod suspended above her head. Her confident expression gives no hint that she even acknowledges that her legs end well above the knees. After touching her chin to the bar over a dozen times, she drops herself back into a chair that is no longer there, and lands flat on her back next to the tumbled chair on the side of a sloping stone path. The stunned woman is quickly surrounded by very surprised dwarves not used to sudden visitors in their city within the mountain.
“The Fool faces but a single fate, an example to all who tarry!” A man holds a cup of some sort of beverage in his hands while he talks down to other people sitting in cube shaped partitions before him. With his seeming minions snickering behind his back, he smugly walks to another room and closes the door behind him. He strides to the desk and sits in the chair, only to land chair and all in the middle of a street bracketed by tall narrow buildings with brass coils and rods suspending arcing cables above. As he turns and sees a massive machine of some sort crawling towards him on the street he freezes in place. A gnome with glinting goggles frantically waves and screams at the man, but he simply sits there as the massive contraption keeps rolling forward slower than a child could walk. He is still sitting there in shock when the massive metal wheel crushes him into the cobblestone street.
“The Fortress stands to defend the forgotten and the lost. Unyielding! Even before the Gods!” A young man stands against an older one who strikes blow after blow upon him in wordless fury. He stumbles back only a step, keeping his arms up and staying in place between the older man and two smaller children. The children talk frantically into a flattened silvery box in their hands, crouched over a woman with golden hair and blank eyes above a crushed nose and jaw. Red and blue lights flash in the windows and men in uniforms burst through the door to tackle the older man. A woman with a kind face wraps the younger children in blankets and leads them and their older brother outside. As the man is dragged outside with his hands fastened behind his back with slim metal shackles, he starts kicking and screaming and is thrown to the ground once again. While everyone’s attention is on him, the young man and his siblings vanish.
“The Twins’ anguished gaze pierces the hearts of men, no malice may hide from their sight!” The young man steps away from the two as he looks upon their new surroundings. The pair drop their blankets back revealing teary eyes and golden hair to match their late mother. The girls cling to their older brother as the three of them stare at the small village just in view through the sparse wooded grove where they stand.
“The Defiler’s works make demons weep, atrocity without measure!” A crowd of weeping people sit in a small room looking through a pane of glass at a strange table with straps and cords and hoses. In a hallway connected to the room with the table, two men carrying what are obviously weapons of some sort follow slightly behind another man holding a set of shackles. They approach a heavily reinforced metal door, and the man carrying the shackles slides open a narrow panel with one hand in order to peer inside. He barks a command to the plain-looking occupant of the cell, who stands there in a bright orange garment. The man turns around, and the guard shuts the small panel and pulls a large and heavy key off his belt. As he turns the lock and pulls the door open to an empty cell, all that can be heard is laughter.
With the last window now past, all of them slipped back into each other like puddles of liquid merging together until only one single pane remained. All that Rella could see were brief flashes of violet and indigo illuminating the outline of a giant tree wreathed in massive purple and white flames. At the center of the inferno a young woman burned, incandescent fire pouring out of her eyes and mouth and from cracks in her skin. Waves of agony and ecstasy in equal measures radiated from the woman along with the intense heat, enough to batter Rella’s own sanity. The [Oracle] continued to speak, but now Rella felt her own body Speak along with her.
“Clad in Storm and Fire unrelenting, the Ancient Tree is awakened! She walks the Wildlands to learn to fly, in her footsteps thunder and ruin! Severed chains and shattered shackles, so this Age is Ended!
Between one word and the next the older woman let go of the younger woman’s hand and collapsed onto the balcony, withering into a lifeless husk. Now alone in body but not in mind, the [Oracle] Spoke one last time.
“At her fury let the wicked tremble!”
With that the vision finally ended, and the pressure left the air around the temple and the city. The incandescent storm continued to rage over some distant place far past the mountains across the sea. The new [Oracle] wasted no time as she swung over the balcony and lowered herself one handhold after another to a ledge several paces below. She shimmied along the narrow path skirting the cliff until she reached another section with well-worn handholds in the stone, and climbed back up to the bluffs overlooking the temple. Part of her felt a moment of sorrow for leaving the other woman behind, until said woman gave her a mental version of a thump across her nose in admonishment.
Evading the raiding slavers and their hired mercenaries was trivial to the [Oracle], especially with the chaotic disruption to divination now fading. She had no detailed picture of the possible futures yet, but the broad strokes were slowly sifting through the chaotic sea of possibilities unfolding in her mind. Already she knew one important task she wanted to accomplish. She had to find the young man that her vision had named The Fortress. He was important, as were his sisters, even if she could not see any details about why. Of more immediate importance was a safe and warm place to spend the night, as she knew there would be torrential rains within a handful of hours. Whatever had happened in the Wildlands so far to the east had spread a simply enormous amount of heat and magical energy into the sky, and colossal storms were already forming. The young [Oracle] was extremely glad for her newly gained precognitive skills, as she adjusted her course for an abandoned hunting shelter that she could reach just ahead of the rains.
And then you can teach me, she thought at the other woman in her head.
The response was akin to a satisfied chuckle, but multiplied with various different tones and voices in her mind. Indeed we can, child. Indeed we can.
|
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Morgan Mackenzie was having a very frustrating morning. Nearly an entire week had passed since parting ways with her distant ancestor, and every day had managed to be more irritating than the last. The [Skyclad Sorceress] currently sat upon a low stone stool raised from the earth with her magic, bent forward in a grouchy slouch with her elbows on her knees while she looked upon yet another failed enchantment attempt.
The object of her frustrations floated between her hands; several fragments of stone that had once fit together in the shape of a shallow cup. She had finally learned the [Spatial Expansion Rune] enchantment after dozens of failures at emulating how the needle and thread of Moghren’s spellwork pulled the Mana fabric together. However, her inability to utilize such tools meant she had been forced to hold the threads of Mana in the woven pattern in her mind, and it was headache inducing to a surprising degree.
She could apply the enchantment to the inside of a bowl or cup made with [Earth Sculpt], but her best efforts had yielded nothing more than a slight bending of the space inside. Every attempt she had made to further twist the volume of the storage area led to the enchantment destabilizing. The space would snap back to normal size, shattering the stone no matter how much she strengthened it. With a slight push of mana and a defeated sigh, Morgan tossed the broken shards to the side where they joined the remains of previous attempts.
“At least my campsites are improving, Lulu,” she groaned, rubbing her face.
The puffy lace scrubby merely purbled in response and continued scrubbling around the flat stone ring that Morgan had sculpted around the fire pit. The fire, having been allowed to burn low, now featured a stone spit upon which rested a well-cooked murdersquirrel. It had made the fatal mistake of being too oblivious of its surroundings while Morgan was practicing her [Fade Presence] skill, and had paid the price for its inattention. The cooking process had resulted in spatters of grease and fat around the fire, which Lulu had happily set about cleaning up.
The campsite itself was a fully-enclosed dome with a small opening in the middle of the ceiling for the smoke, and a mat of forest moss lay on a low stone bed to one side. Compared to Morgan’s first attempt at a temporary abode, it was a significant improvement. The walls were smoother and much more uniform, the stone much stronger.
And there’s a door, she thought to herself with a grim reminder of her one-time loss and subsequent regrowth of her arm. Won’t be making that particular mistake again!
“I just don’t get it, Lulu,” she said as got up to tear another chunk of meat off the roasted squirrel. “I learned the basic enchantment, but it keeps collapsing -- like a house without load-bearing walls.”
Morgan sat back down and continued her breakfast, carefully tearing bite-sized pieces off of the roasted squirrel. She took her time, looking at the stone walls she had pulled up from the earth the night before. Her skills had improved with her evening construction projects, and a trail of increasingly bigger and better stone hutches marked her travels since leaving First Raven’s Roost. Her current abode was over twice the size of the previous, as the rains that started the day before had forced her to make camp several hours earlier than usual. The respite from the tough slog through the mud was sorely needed, but it sorely lacked for entertainment; more out of boredom than necessity, she had spent more time expanding the structure before falling asleep.
The rains were still falling outside, a constant whispering in the forest she could hear through the hand-sized windows spaced randomly around the little house. The roof was large and dense enough that the falling droplets did not make audible noise from the inside. Large enough, in fact, that she had added vertical support ribs of stone every few feet to support the weight. It was while she looked at these irregular protrusions standing out from the walls, and the now-meatless rib of mudersquirrel in her hands, that realization struck.
“I’ve been looking at it all wrong, Lulu!” she exclaimed, tossing the rib section back into the coals as she stood back up with excitement. The puffball wurbled in admonishment as the bone hitting the ashes kicked up another mess, but happily set about cleaning it up as its nature dictated it must. “It’s like Engineering class for my Architecture Major at school back on Earth! I can’t make a big room without supporting the structure itself!”
With renewed enthusiasm, Morgan pulled up another fist-sized ball of Earth from the ground below, returning to her seat and focusing all of her attention on her new project. A surge of will and Earth Mana had the raw dirt compressed into a dense, magically-infused putty that she warped like taffy into the rough shape of a round jar. Spinning it on three different axes simultaneously allowed her to make the jar almost perfectly spherical, and earned her a bonus in the form of another level in [Earth Sculpt], leaving the skill mastered at last.
Spatial Magic did not seem to have any distinct elemental flavor to the Mana, at least not to Morgan’s Rune-enhanced sight and other senses. It seemed to work with just raw Mana, as best she could tell with her current abilities. She looked inside the jar, instinctively brightening the flame runes inscribed in a ring around the inside of the stone hut in order to better see.
Drawing the thread-thin traces into the stone with her Earth Mana let her anchor the space-manipulating weaves into the hardened jar, similar to her [Candleflame Rune] enchantments. A single rune for the spatial magic had thus far proven to be too unstable in practice, however. So instead of one single spherical rune, she inscribed seven matching pairs of them on the inside of the jar. “Eight feels like too many,” she mumbled to herself as sweat beaded across her brow. “Six isn’t enough, it doesn’t balance right…”
Seven tiny circles lined up in a ring along the inner opening of the jar, each with a matching opposite seated in a ring closer to the bottom of the jar and a spidery thread linking each one to its mate. Holding so much detail fixed in her mind took extreme concentration, and spikes of pain began to develop behind her eyes as she held the traced designs in her thoughts, waiting for the Mana to slowly coalesce into the forms.
Just before the pain became an agony strong enough to break her concentration, her efforts were rewarded.
You have learned the enchantment [Spatial Reinforcement Rune]! Reinforce the underlying structure of a localized spatial zone! Practice and experience with different applications will improve this enchantment!
Between the sudden relief of the disappearing headache and the shock of the notification, Morgan very nearly dropped the floating jar in surprise; she recovered in time to catch it with a light touch of Mana. She levitated it above one hand while cupping her chin with the other, suddenly thoughtful as she inspected her work.
“The reinforcement should definitely help,” she mused out loud to Lulu. The scrubby was now inspecting the reject pile, glomming one fragment after another and tossing them away with strange puffling motions of its fronds after cleaning them to a shiny gleam.
After another few bites of squirrel and a brief rest, Morgan set about working the actual spatial enchantment into the jar. Once again she went with a doubled pattern of seven smaller enchantments, staggered between the reinforcement runes. With multiple anchoring points, the overall effect was extremely stable, and the effort led to her gaining [Spatial Affinity]. Pulling the space inside the jar still felt wrong, but as the affinity skill settled into her mind it became clearer just exactly how the lattice of hair-thin threads of Mana was actually affecting the space.
“Ha!” she exclaimed as she inverted the tiny rune circles to reverse the effect. “I was trying to make the space inside bigger, when I should have been trying to put more space...into the, uh...space?” she finished, a puzzled expression crossing her features.
The inverted spatial runes finally did the trick, and the enchantment snapped into place with another notification.
You have learned the enchantment [Spatial Compression Rune]! Compress a larger volume of space into a smaller area! Practice and experience with different applications will improve this enchantment!
The feeling of accomplishment was immensely satisfying; a smug gratification that Morgan felt on a visceral level, radiating out from her chest as she grinned with an exuberance similar to when she received the keys to her first car as a teenager. Wait, she thought, it’s coming from the [Soul Anchor]...
You have increased your understanding of [Runic Enchantment]! Your [Soul Anchor] has gained a level due to your learning new Runes! Living Runes that have been linked to the [Soul Anchor] may now grow to a maximum level of two! You may now link a total of two Living Runes to the [Soul Anchor]!
DING!
You have reached Level 11! Health and Status partially restored!
Remember, combat is not the only path to advancement. Performing tasks and training skills aligned with your class will often yield surprising benefits.
Rewarded points doubled by Class Traits!
10 distributable Stat points awarded.
Class Template: [Skyclad Sorceress] auto-assigns 3 points(+1 CON, +2 INT), Distributable points reduced to 7.
10 Skill points awarded. New Skills available for purchase due to meeting prerequisite conditions!
Morgan had not fought anything tougher than a few murdersquirrels since her near-disastrous encounter with the hydra and subsequent faux battle upon meeting Moghren. Her thoughts had not been focused on leveling at all, so the sudden notification without a preceding experience gains message had her tumbling backwards off the stool, the hardened clay pot bouncing along the floor beside her.
“Well,” said the [Skyclad Sorceress] as she picked herself up and brushed the dirt off her bottom and back as well as she could. “Moghren did say levelling happened from doing class related things…”
Lulu had been startled as well by her sudden fall, and had immediately made its way over to assist in restoring its mistress’ skin to immaculate condition. With the purbling minion contentedly going about its task, Morgan returned her attention to the skill menu she had been ignoring for the past week. No new options had been available since her class selection, so she had not bothered after an initial check upon gaining the class.
“I guess if I don’t have enough points, it won’t display things I can’t afford to get…”
After spending her remaining stat points on INT, Morgan mentally pulled up the skills menu.
Skill Acquisition Menu
Leveling Class Abilities may provide unique skills for purchase when conditions are met!
One unique Class Skill is now available for purchase due to learning the required skills!
Experimentation and learning more skills will grant access to more skills for acquisition!
[Runic Belt(Living Rune)] - [20 Skill Points] This Living Rune links to your [Soul Anchor] rune. One spatial storage enchantment may be added to [Runic Belt] per level of the Living Rune. Living Rune level is capped at the current level of [Soul Anchor]. Improving your abilities with spatial magics will increase the level of [Runic Belt].
Morgan danced happily in place, hugging a protesting Lulu in her excitement. “Ha, ha-ha!” she half-giggled, half-sang with satisfaction, placing the scrubby back on the bed to allow it to resume its wandering scrubbly travels. “So experimenting pays off!”
There were no other options available at present, other than greyed out skills that were useless to her. Many applied to tools, weapons, or items that she would never be able to equip, and others she simply had no interest in whatsoever. She ignored the other skills and hastily spent the points to acquire the [Runic Belt] enchantment.
“Huh..”
She felt the skill settle with a strange pulsing sensation from her [Soul Anchor], but no new tattoo appeared.
“Okay... “
Slightly confused, she brought up her skill list with a thought. Focusing on the living runes listed at the end, she finally realized the problem.
“Oh,” she said with sudden understanding. “[Mana Vision] is listed as an active rune, and [Runic Belt] isn’t…”
Selecting the skill with her mind and activating it was simple enough, yet still nothing happened at first. Morgan frowned, her confusion growing every second.
And then she was yelping in pain while jumping up and down and slapping at her belly just above her most sensitive bits.
“Fuck! Oh shit oh shit oh shit!”
In the crook of her hips, on either side of what was formerly her bikini line (when she had still been able to wear such things), bright blue arcs of Mana began tracing an ultra-fine filigree pattern into her skin. The burning ignored her [Pain Resistance] entirely, and she dropped to the ground once again. Her heels drummed a staccato pattern on the dirt floor and her back arched while she sobbed through clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut.
The tracings began at two points slightly above and to either side of her crotch, and as they spread up her abdomen from there, the runes grew outward to either side and arched over and around her hips. The entire process took only minutes, yet felt to her like hours. Morgan wailed until the two ends of the tattoo met at the base of her spine, just above the tailbone. The last few inches of the inscribing process hurt more than all that came before, and she flopped and screamed helplessly until, after what felt like an eternity, it was done.
Morgan simply lay there in a limp heap, whimpering and exhausted and panting to catch her breath. Lulu, the loyal scrubby, rushed over to its fallen mistress with frightened wurbles while it began inspecting her for damage. The scrubby's panic at its mistress' distress took a while to fade as it continued to search for whatever unseen foe had caused such violence. Once her poofy companion had finally determined there were no immediate threats, the loofah set about checking Morgan over in its typical hopping fashion.
In this instance, however, that inspection was cut short as Lulu hopped from Morgan’s arm onto the outside of her hip -- and suddenly vanished, with an alarmed, trilling warble that was cut horrifyingly short. The naked girl felt panic begin to claw at her mind once again, scrambling to her feet with a cry.
“Lulu! Shit, no!”
The tattoo that now circled her hips sat like an unbuckled belt, not quite meeting in the middle of her pelvis. Five empty circles were traced along evenly spaced sections on each side; the forward-most circle on her right hip, however, was filled with a complex triple-spiral pattern that was now pulsing faintly with a gentle blue light.
Placing her hand over the glowing part of the tattoo she could feel it pulse with her heartbeat, and with a hurried thought she pushed extra mana into her hand, and from her hand into the rune.
A very upset loofah suddenly popped into existence with a faint rush of air and immediately resumed its outraged warbling, until Morgan gathered Lulu up in both hands to administer soothing pats while hugging it close.
“Sorry ‘bout that, Lulu!” she cooed, sitting down on the moss-covered bed that occupied one side of the hut. “I wasn’t expecting the tattoo part to hurt at all. The first one didn’t.” She gently petted the loofah as she lay down on the bed, and the soothing rhythmic motion seemed to unlock something in her mind. Emotional walls she did not realize she had put into place finally began to fall apart.
“Why does almost everything cool in this world hurt so much?” she whimpered. Then, she felt a burst of anger. “Everything! If it’s not something trying to fucking eat me, I end up burning alive, or-”
The anger was as short-lived as it was intense, her own words bringing back memories of her first night in the Tree. She had walled the entire experience off inside her mind as an instinctive self-defense, leaving her more able to deal with the chaos and threats that came her way. But since leaving Moghren’s home and the ancient ruins of the city, her experiences had been much slower paced and far less dangerous. Traumas such as her burning on that first fateful night could never be truly forgotten, however, and after a few calmer days -- and now, her relative safety in her reinforced stone hut -- the shock of the tattoos and the familiar burning sensation brought all that pain back in exquisite detail.
WIth the memory came the emotions long denied. And, as the rains played a dreary susurrating tune outside the windows, Morgan finally cried.
|
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Terisa Aras sat on a stool a short distance away from the firepit where her husband was cooking supper. This wouldn’t ordinarily be remarkable, but he was cooking supper for the third time in one evening. A few hours ago, Dana and Morgan had disappeared into the former’s workshop to discuss matters amongst themselves. Dana had appeared quiet and withdrawn, a stark contrast to her earlier eagerness upon meeting the other Worldwalker. When they had emerged, the newcomer had sat down and begged food and drink, and began to eat.
And eat.
And eat some more.
Dana, meanwhile, had gone back into her shop to analyze her suit’s data to see if she could figure out what had gone wrong with her munition. Nessara sat to Terisa’s left, still speechless at the display of wanton gluttony they were currently bearing witness to. Kojeg and Graz, the Ursaran youth, had seen the woman’s efforts as a challenge to meet, and had attempted to keep up with the Worldwalker as she devoured plate after plate of grilled meats and spiced vegetables as fast as Foz could serve them. Their efforts had been truly herculean, worthy of any competitive eater, and yet they had been forced to concede. Kojeg lay back against a log in slumber, and Graz had long since wandered off in a sleepy daze. She still showed no signs of slowing down, and Terisa couldn’t do anything but stare as Foz laid another rack of elk ribs on the stone grating, sprinkling it with salt and other spices.
The newcomer’s attire -- or, more properly, lack thereof -- was certainly striking, especially with her vivid purple tattoos. That was not what had Terisa staring. The huntress had seen many things in her years, had lived a Story of fame and earned uncountable fortunes through her adventures, and had taken sides in more than one war. Her own abilities barely touched on magics beyond skills with her bow and enhanced senses and physicality, but she had seen more spellwork in her life than most. Even the greater working that had sent the burning landslide rushing over the skitterlings didn’t merit much attention, beyond the sheer spectacle and her relief at such an opportune intervention.
She had never before, however, seen any spellcaster of any class variant rip stones up from the ground, mold them into forks and knives and plates, and then sit on a chair that seemed to grow up from the ground to catch the person as they sat down while eating with said utensils -- all without touching them by hand. Levitation was not something she had much familiarity with, but one thing Terisa did know was that it wasn’t just the total mass that made it difficult. Every separate item so controlled took more effort than the last, so the mages she had known had either used static enchantments to hold the items aloft, or only lifted two or three objects at most.
“How much mana is she using?” asked the huntress in an awestruck whisper, leaning towards Nessara.
“It’s not how much she’s using, I can’t even get a read on that. It has to be a skill!” hissed the mage.
“Oh, speak plain, mighty wizard! I can see she has to be using several skills!”
“She’s generating mana at a prodigious rate, and the more she eats the more she gains! But I can’t tell where it’s coming from or going. Her tattoos are enchantments that shouldn’t be possible, and I think some of them are storing it...”
The mage had stopped bothering to whisper, the newcomer seemingly oblivious to the conversation as she devoured more and more food. The woman’s stomach was visibly larger, yet that was fading as her body adapted. She had seemed thin and gangly upon her arrival at the wall after her staggering display of power, and now the food was replenishing her figure fast enough to be visible to the naked eye. Biggles was preparing a fourth kettle of kaffen on the grate over the coals, and the tattooed spellcaster levitated a large goblet in the necromancer’s direction when she noticed, a goblet formed of solid mana crystal, as clear as glass and free of imperfections: yet another feat that drew stares and strange looks from both Nessara and Chadwick.
“Mmfh,” sputtered the woman, licking grease off her fingers. “You have no idea how long it’s been since I had salt, and seasoning on food!” The loofah on her shoulder, twice as large as the necromancer’s own Wuffle, made its way down her arm to finish off the last traces on her hands as the crystal goblet floated up for her to take a drink. “And I don’t know what this stuff is, but all I’ve had was water and a bad tea I made once from some flowers I found. It tastes like all that’s good about coffee and hot chocolate!”
The floating plates and forks suddenly converged, the puffball hopping from the woman’s shoulder to clean the last of the mess before the stone crumbled, returning to the earth from which it had been formed. Another shocking display followed, as she seemed to let herself fall backwards over her chair, throwing her limbs out. Terisa noticed Chadwick leering at the woman’s naked form, but that wasn’t what had Terisa staring -- nor was it the fact that her tattoos were glowing contentedly. Instead of falling to the ground in a heap, the ground itself flowed upwards to catch her, as though it were her lover.
“Oh, man,” purred the glowing woman. She patted her rune-covered abdomen, the slight bulge from gorging on so much food already fading and her magical presence growing even more intense. After a languorous stretch that had more than just the Swift Waters Guild representative drooling to witness, Morgan sat back up. More accurately, the stone beneath her shifted to lift her up to a sitting position, arms sculpting themselves from the ground as the newly formed chair adapted to the contours of her body with perfect precision. Several men, and a handful of women, stared from other cookfires scattered about the clearing at the center of Castra Pristis. Foz and the other beastkin were unphased, unlike their human counterparts.
The Tribes have no taboos about anything as silly as nudity, recalled Terisa, eyes lingering on Foz for half a heartbeat.
“She’s not actively trying to show off,” muttered Nessara to her left. “I think she genuinely just doesn’t care she’s naked.”
Chadwick broke in at that moment, grinning like a schoolboy and unable to contain himself any longer. “I can see her-”
A leathery rasp and a flicker of movement from across the campfire presaged the arrival of a gleaming dagger, stuck in the ground and quivering a hair’s width from the man’s toes. “You can see her what?” Foz rumbled, staring at the man as Terisa stifled a laugh.
The man shuffled his boot away from the knife, gulping as the blood drained from his face. “Uh! I can see her loofah!”
“Oh! You mean Lulu?” the [Skyclad Sorceress] replied brightly, grinning at Chadwick.
“Not as oblivious as I thought,” mumbled a grinning Nessara.
The woman made no effort to cover herself or even shift to sit in a manner more befitting a lady, merely held out the puffball and continued. “Don’t you like my Lulu?” she said, staring at Chadwick. The scrubby seemed to puff up from the attention. “She’s so soft, and pink, and likes to be stroked, just like this!”
The loofah seemed to preen, wurbling with contentment and, unlike its mistress, totally oblivious to the wordplay as the woman petted the puffball with a gentle circular motion. Terisa lost her composure and burst into raucous laughter, nearly falling off her own stool as the guild representative turned several different shades of red. Anger fought for a place next to embarrassment on the man’s face and he eventually rose to his feet, stalking away towards his own wagon.
“Finally,” said Morgan, suddenly more serious. “I know I’m naked, and I don’t really mind people looking,” she said as she patted herself between her legs to make the point, “but there’s no excuse for rudeness, and he’s been creeping me out since I got here. I thought I was going to have to set him on fire to make him leave.”
“Can drag him back here if you still want to do that,” rumbled Foz with a conspiratory grin.
“He’s rude and crass and immature,” admitted Terisa after regaining her composure, “and I would have barred him from the trip, but the Swift Waters Guild provides the lion’s share of funding for the Expedition every year. Supplies aren’t cheap, especially the quality and quantity of healing and mana potions we require.”
“Meh,” said the sorceress with a dismissive wave of her hand. “If he wants to perv on me from a distance, let him. At least Biggles here doesn’t have his eyes falling out of his head.”
“As a healer, I’m more familiar with the uglier side of bodies, particularly the insides. And as a necromancer, of course,” he mused, pouring another round of kaffen for everyone around the fire. “Working with both the dead and the living lends itself to a certain immunity to being distracted by bodies themselves. I prefer my plants and garden at home.”
“Speaking of healing…” Terisa left the question hanging in the air unfinished.
“The unstable magics will fade over the next few days,” replied the necromancer. “Miss Dana was appropriately chagrined over what she called radiation, but that has already been absorbed by the ambient mana in the atmosphere. I hope she doesn’t sulk overmuch, but one really shouldn’t make a habit of detonating mana crystals. Miss Morgan here,” he nodded at the sorceress, “already took care of the corruption at the blast site when she covered it with burning earth.”
“It makes sense there’d would be gaps in what people thought to inform her about,” said Nessara as she sipped her own mug. “It’s not like there’s a guidebook for Worldwalkers.”
“Hah!” exclaimed Morgan. “That would have helped more than you know! I might not have ended up naked if I had found something like that. Instead, all I got was eagle poop when I landed.”
The sorceress turned wistful for a few moments after that, emotions flickering across her face too quickly for Terisa to track. “Yet, you survived the wilds alone. Not many can say that, even those of us with levels and experience the first time we come here.”
“Yeah. And it’s not like I didn’t have help. Lulu can take care of herself better than you would think,” she said, giving her poofy passenger a pat. “And I did meet one other person, a witch who turned into a raven.”
Foz sat straighter then, keen interest shining in his eyes as he spoke up. “You met the First Raven? The secrets of full shifting have been lost to the Children since the time of Ka’Na Oko. Long have we yearned for the old knowledge.”
Morgan shuddered at the memory. “Yeah, that’s her. Apparently my distant ancestor too, and not a nice lady. Not mean, exactly, but I guess you’d say very old-fashioned. You guys might get along better with her than I did.”
Clanks and mechanical rumblings heralded Dana’s return as she exited the side door of her workshop, the triple-carriage now reassembled into its original form. The engineer no longer looked as dejected as she had after getting lectured by Nessara and a Morgan who had been literally on fire at the time.
“Okay,” said Dana as her suit shifted from two legs into a configuration that left her sitting level with everyone else. “I see where my math went wrong. I had no idea that converting mana crystals to energy would be different than regular matter, and that there would be an amplification effect that nearly tripled the yield.”
Foz served her up a plate with an amicable grunt of approval. “Long as you know to be more careful from now on. Everybody survived, this time.”
“You get the energy from the matter, and the residual energy of the mana stored in the crystals, and the effect is more than the flat sum of both,” said Nessara in a more kindly tone. “Normally you just detonate the crystal and shatter it to pieces, but your containment field held the energy in one place and forced it to annihilate itself.”
“It’s all good, though,” Morgan added before sipping more steaming kaffen from her crystal goblet. “It won’t matter in a few days anyway.” Points of faint purple light flickered along the lines of her tattoos, tracing outwards from the sigil on her chest as if the magic pulsed with her heartbeats.
For all Terisa could sense, that was exactly what was happening. The woman’s eyes, clearly naturally brown, were shot through with flecks and streaks of bright violet and deep indigo, and even her fingers and toes were tipped with glimmering crystal in place of keratin. Striking doesn’t even begin to describe this creature, thought the huntress. I’m not even sure she still counts as human... “What do you mean it won’t matter in a few days?”
The sorceress looked at Terisa, resting her chin on her hands with her elbows on her knees. “Because there’s something big coming up the ley line that passes near the fort, and it will churn up the magic around here anyway.”
“Could that be the wanderer you and Kojeg talk about, Terisa?” Dana had eaten with haste, washing down her food with a mug of kaffen.
“Possibly. Probably,” the huntress amended. “It’s definitely a migration year, and if he’s heading this way it would explain the stampedes and the different creatures on the move outside of their normal territories.”
“Moghren did tell me the Titan wanders,” Morgan mused. “Have you ever seen him?”
Terisa nodded slowly, deep in thought. Foz spoke up on her behalf when she seemed reluctant to speak.
“Long time ago. Her first trip out here, back when the old badger Kamaga led the Expedition.”
“Half of us didn’t come back from that trip,” the huntress whispered. “He didn’t seek us out, but some hot-headed fools thought to reap a bounty in crystal from his hide. Kamaga got the younglings out.” Terisa shuddered at the memory. “He wasn’t picking a fight then, and I doubt he is now, but if the Wanderer is coming this way, this year’s Expedition is done. We head back tomorrow.”
“Chadwick will be incensed,” chuckled Nessara. “All those resources waiting out there? Swift Waters does pay a fortune for crystals for their Wavecutters, though, so he’ll still make a profit, considering how Dana ended the stampede.” The mage stood to go spread the word, knowing it was pointless to argue with the huntress.
“I want to know more about the Wanderer,” said Morgan as the mage walked away.
“Why? He is ancient, powerful beyond belief, and has only left the Wildlands once in all of living memory to my knowledge.” Terisa slid from her stool to a crouch, drawing a stick from the fire to scratch the charcoal tip against the stone. “He’s bigger than a troll, but smaller than a hill giant, and more dangerous than either one.”
Morgan shook her head. “Are you sure? I don’t feel danger. My instincts would tell me… No, he feels familiar, his magic similar to my own. When did he leave the Wildlands?”
“That was before my time, but I have Kamaga’s journals back home at Expedition. He just walked down from the pass one day, with several children on his shoulders.”
The huntress continued to draw on the ground with the burnt stick, the others around the fire falling silent in the fading light of the dusk. Kojeg had sat up to listen, nursing a mug of Biggles’ specialty kaffen. Dana sat quietly next to the naked Worldwalker, and Chadwick returned with Nessara, but remained respectfully subdued.
“According to Kagama, a pack of local thieves and bandits had gone from robbery to...darker things. They killed a dozen or more people in the mountainside territories outside of any nation’s borders, and took captives.”
She kept drawing, deep in memory of old tales. “Apparently they thought they could hide in the Wildlands, and have fun with the women. The kids, they were going to sell to smugglers bound for Deskren lands; they pay gold for young classless. But the Wanderer wandered, and found them. Apparently he has a soft spot for children. They told old Kamaga he ‘ate the bad men,’ and carried them out of the wilds.”
“That sounds almost noble,” said Dana.
“It may be,” said Terisa, adding more lines to her drawing, focused on the memories. She had read the journals only after her own experience seeing the massive creature from a distance herself, and what she was drawing had been burned into her mind. “But he shakes the earth when he walks, disrupts magic of any kind. He is heavier than he looks, and sheds crystals with every movement as his armored form bends and cracks with every step.”
Morgan looked up at that last detail. “I’ve found these-” she seemed to struggle for the words, the loofah wurbling gently on her shoulder. “I call them graveyards, massive skeletons in the middle of shattered earth and stone, with crystals scattered everywhere. Lots of them all over the wildlands from what I can tell.”
“They look chewed on, don’t they?” the huntress asked, still distracted by her improvised artwork. A circle, unfamiliar runes inside it. Above the circle, three lines forming an unfinished triangle somehow reminiscent of a bird’s wings, with a fourth line connecting it to the circle. To one side, a curved, double-headed arrow, opposite a bar and circle.The details of the design were lost to her memory, but the outline was sharp.
“Yeah, chewed and crushed,” Morgan agreed.
“According to old Kamaga, he guards these lands, but why and against what, not even the [Oracle] will admit to knowing, if she does know.”
Dana had been watching Terisa etch shapes onto the ground, and suddenly her interest sharpened to an almost frightening intensity, her body growing tense. “What are you drawing?” she asked slowly.
“When the Wanderer brought the children to the city, he didn’t talk. But everyone saw him, and several people drew sketches. He looks as a man does, vaguely, but bestial and twisted. Bark and vines seem to grow from his muscles, and crystal armors his hands and back and legs and head.”
Terisa added a few more lines to her drawing and sat back, as Morgan stood and stepped around the fire to join Dana. Both simply stared at what she had inscribed in the dirt.
“That is the sigil burned into his chest,” Terisa finished, “like armor over his heart.”
“No,” muttered Dana, “that can’t be. It doesn’t make sense.” She glanced up at Terisa, intensity burning in her eyes. “Those artists -- that can’t be right.”
Likewise, Morgan was affected by this foreign drawing. “There’s no way--”
“I know that symbol,” Dana declared. “That’s the Eagle, Globe and Anchor. The official emblem of the Marines.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Are you trying to tell me a devil dog is a Worldwalker? And has been here thousands of years?”
Morgan stood there beside Dana, regarding the symbol and its runic inscription. She gestured, and the stone on which the symbol lay pulled itself up, the design gleaming in the firelight. “...Is it possible?” she asked, her voice a whisper. She looked at Terisa, and where Dana’s expression held intensity, Morgan’s held longing. “Can...do Worldwalkers always stay...in their own times?”
“Guild records go back over a thousand years,” Chadwick volunteered, slight confusion in his voice. “Some Worldwalkers have claimed to arrive from different times, and from different worlds. Some aren’t even human.”
“Using magic to adjust time is...difficult,” Nessara supplied. “Speeding up or slowing down an area, or even a single person, requires rare skills and lots of mana. But...travel between worlds, how and why Worldwalkers get here...I can’t tell you. Nobody knows, not even the [Oracle].
“I do,” Morgan replied firmly. “They don’t always stay in their own time. This proves it,” she insisted, pointing at the symbol.
“How can you say that?” scoffed Dana. “I could be wrong, it could be just a coincidence! Time buggery means paradoxes!”
“Not if it’s a one way trip,” said Nessara, leaning wearily on her staff.
“Yes,” said Chadwick, rubbing his chin. “If you accept that you can never return, then the past becomes your new now, and paradox is avoided. Only the system itself could ever muster the energy for it, though.”
“Say what you like,” Morgan said, her shoulders hunched. “I have all the proof I need. Believe me or not, I don’t care.” Morgan’s finger took fire, and she reached towards the image.
“You aren’t making any sense!” exclaimed Dana, as the sorceress began to draw with her finger on the strange runes in the circle in the image.
Morgan spoke, cutting Dana off. “Marianne.” She moved her finger clockwise to the next series. “Michael.” Her finger moved. “Mitchell.” Her finger moved once more, hovering over the fourth and final inscription before letting her finger fall against it. “And...Morgan,” she finished with a sigh.
“I’m Morgan Mackenzie, of Clan Mackenzie. If this is in fact inscribed on his chest, then the Wanderer is...has to be...my dad.” She shook her head. “He put our names inside the ‘globe’ of his eagle, globe, and anchor after mom died. Michael and Mitchell are my older brothers.”
“So you’re staying to meet the Wanderer instead of coming back to the lowlands with us?” Nessara’s gaze burned with an intense curiosity, and her posture suddenly became unfittingly nervous.
“And I’m staying, too,” Dana interjected “If he’s a Marine, I can talk to him. Even if he can’t talk.” Dana’s suit reconfigured once again as she spoke, returning her to standing on two legs.
“You don’t have to--” Morgan got out, before the engineer cut her off.
“No,” said Dana. “If he’s really been here for hundreds of years--”
“Thousands,” interjected the sorceress.
“Thousands of years, then. If he’s been here that long, you’ll need help, or at least just someone else around to talk to and help out. I screwed up with the almost-nuke, but I can do this.” She thumped her metal leg. “I have experience with PTSD.”
“I won’t mind the help,” Morgan agreed, “and I have a safe place near here. Well, it took me two days to get here from there. Nothing can challenge me in my valley; I claimed it the hard way. I think that’s where he’s headed anyway, if he follows the ley lines.”
“If the lass goes with ye, I’ll be comin ‘long too,” said Kojeg. “I’d still be hammerin’ blades at the Great Forge and hating every minute were it not for the girl.”
“If Kojeg and Dana are staying with you, the rest of the expedition can make it back through the pass without me.” Terisa nodded at her husband and the necromancer. “Foz and Biggles can handle it, along with Nessara.”
“How unfortunate,” Chadwick said. He stepped closer to the fire, and something in his manner and posture screamed at Terisa, though she couldn’t put a name to it. With her instinct to warn her, she reached back to draw her bow, but was stopped when Nessara touched her arm, paralyzing her body and holding her fast. She couldn’t even move her eyes, but could see the mage’s blank, empty expression as she regarded Chadwick. At the same time, a pulse of energy rippled out from his body and the others around the campfire dropped as if knocked unconscious.
Kojeg slumped back against his log. Foz fell back onto the ground, and Biggles crumpled, spilling his pot of kaffen. Dana’s suit kept her upright, but her head drooped, mouth slack. Only the [Skyclad Sorceress] remained standing, although she swayed on her feet. Terisa’s innate resistances and much higher level had protected her from the effect, the slight wave of dizziness barely noticeable compared to her cramping muscles.
“It would have been so much easier on the way back, all of us together,” Chadwick continued, shaking his head. “A little something in the evening kaffen, a nice long nap, and you wake up in Nouveau Deskra.” The man’s tone was no longer pompous and self-important, and Terisa found herself immediately wishing for the annoying pervert instead of the new, colder Chadwick. Her heart froze as she saw his hand recede from his belt, a flash of gold resolving into a solid band.
“Nessara, you can’t keep her still forever. Break her bow, if you please, and don’t lose the pieces; there’s still a bounty on it in the Empire.”
Terisa couldn’t even voice a scream as Nessara immediately reached behind the huntress with her free hand. She felt a surge of mana, and heard a crackle of power and a series of popping snaps, followed by several soft thumps as her sister’s Soul Gem shattered, falling to the ground amidst splinters of witchwood.
“A pity they only gave me the one collar,” Chadwick sighed. “It was meant for the one known as the Broken--” he nodded towards Dana-- “but I suppose the sorceress is a better choice anyway. She can tame the rest of you once she’s nice and obedient.”
The puffball on Morgan’s shoulder protested with sleepy wurbles as the guild representative batted it off its mistress’ shoulder with a negligent swat of his hand before looping the collar around the woman’s neck with a twist. Terisa barely noticed the Worldwalker jerk upright as it clicked, so lost was the huntress in her own grief and her vision blurry with tears. It had to be tears blurring her vision, because she thought she saw the woman begin to glow. Golden Collars lock down skills, I’m imagining things! Althenea! Gods, this can’t be real! Your Story wasn’t supposed to end this way! Terisa dropped to her knees, sobbing, as Nessara’s paralysis spell began to fade.
Chadwick leered at Morgan. “Now, sorceress, kill the others, but leave Dana alive!”
Morgan made no move. She simply stood there, staring through the Swift Waters representative. The tattoos covering her body flared into brightness, and Terisa could feel the mana gathering around them even though she was not a mage herself.
“Filth.” It was barely a word, spat from between clenched teeth. The rune at the center of her chest, just below and between her collarbones began pulsing, slowly at first, but then with feverish intensity. Chadwick’s expression began to falter.
“You dare touch me,” she hissed, reaching up to grip the golden band with a hand wreathed in purple fire, “with filth!”
The metal, quickly heating up, began to soften and run like wax before stretching away from the woman’s neck. Her expression, as she looked down at the melting artifact clenched in her hand, was one of the purest disgust, and hatred, and outrage.
This is impossible, Terisa thought to herself, staring at the spectacle before her. The Collars are absolute!
The heat around the woman began to melt the stone under her feet, and the others around the cookfire began to scramble away. Foz, recovering faster than the humans or the dwarf, dragged Biggles with him as he rolled away from the heat. Dana’s suit shifted automatically into defense mode, shields springing up as she stumbled back on six legs once more. Terisa had much higher resistances than anyone else in the Expedition. More experience, more travels. She had lived a long Story, filled with adventures and wonders as much as with conflict and strife.
Her resistances started failing her, as her skin began to blister and her wyvern-hide leathers and armor began to smoke and char. Terisa had fought in wars against mages and against golems. She had seen terrible things, and seen people die in horrible ways. She had thought she understood fire. She was wrong.
Morgan stood there, chest heaving and body tense, with hatred etched into every line on her face. Her body was hardly visible through the violet inferno she was cloaked in, and she stared daggers at Chadwick as he stumbled backwards. The man activated the defensive enchantments woven into his rings and bracelets as he turned to run. Mana surged like a tidal wave, and Terisa could dimly hear the other people in the camp begin to scream as she dropped to the ground, covering the remains of her sister’s gem with her own body.
She saw the sorceress raise her head to the sky, violet flames shooting up around her as she gave one simple command.
“Burn.”
And the sky obeyed.
|
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It's been a long while, but this is big enough I figured an extra chapter for the notifications is worth it to close out book one!
Skybound continues the saga, of course, but the long awaited day has arrived!
Skyclad is available in print and in ebook on amazon!
I promised my readers when i first started posting on royal road and her on scribble hub that i would never take skyclad down as part of some contract with publishing, and i have kept that promise. Skyclad stays up for free, but if you would like to support it, the options are here now! there ARE a few changes in the published version, as i paid for professional editing and had to get some formatting help and all that, but the story remains the same.
I just want to thank everyone for stickin with me this far:)
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Morgan was having a rather dreary day, all things considered. She had indulged in a much-needed breakdown and a good cry as she finally processed everything that had occurred to her since arriving in this new world, culminating in the rainfall carrying her to sleep in an unplanned nap. She felt much better upon waking, but the rains had not abated by the time she awoke.
“Looks like two nights in the same spot this time, Lulu,” she said as the ever-curious scrubby wurbled its way across her hip, to once again disappear into the newly-enchanted storage rune.
“Oh, come out of there!”
The scrubby had spent the minutes since Morgan woke up inspecting this new change to its mistress, its reaction having changed from shock to a childish wonder. She picked up the purbling loofah after letting it back out of the spatial pocket and placed it back on her shoulder. The loofah’s curiosity was infectious though, and she decided to experiment with the new rune on her own.
“So how much do you think I can carry in there, Lulu?”
A brief test with the discarded pottery shards soon demonstrated the capacity of her new spatial pocket. After a few dozen finger-width pieces vanished into the warped space, the enchantment remained dim when she brought the next one close.
“So, a couple of pounds of stuff, maybe? But is it mass, or volume...?”
She carefully removed the shards from within the rune, floating them up between her hands. They seemed to sort of slip into existence as they left the Living Enchantment with only a gentle feeling of Mana pulsing through the tattooed design. She poured her Mana into the stone, squeezing them down into one lumpy mass with [Earth Sculpt]. With the same amount of matter now occupying a smaller volume, she put the clump of earth back into storage and was able to add a few more pieces of the broken jars.
Morgan frowned, tapping the rune. “Hrm. Seems to be a little of Column A, little of Column B…”
Another attempt, this time spinning the lumpy stone into a larger but hollow shape proved to also reject any effort to make it vanish into the magical space.
She nodded to herself. “Volume’s going to be the more limiting factor, looks like..”
Incrementally shrinking the sphere and redistributing its weight, it was finally small enough to vanish into the rune. The spatial warping that allowed things to disappear into and return from the storage rune seemed to have a size limit roughly that of a volleyball -- at least as far as she could tell without any way to take precise measurements.
Her next experiment was to see just how much mass she could carry outside the storage rune. Levitating more than twenty or so separate pieces of earthen shards seemed to be her upper limit, a limit which surprised Morgan as she scooped up a cluster of them with a surge of Mana and mental effort.
Compared to her other spells and skills, the one she had the most actual practice with was [Earth Sculpt]. Since leaving First Raven’s Roost, the string of campsites and stone hutches she had abandoned in her wake had finally allowed her to master the ability, not to mention her habit of using it to stave off boredom by playing with stone like it was silly putty.
There had always been a maximum limit to how densely she could compress the stone, a plateau past which pouring more Mana and effort into it simply yielded no greater result. But, partly due to her modern education on Earth and her experience learning about various types of stone for usage in architecture, Morgan knew she had not come close to producing a material nearly as strong as marbled granite or quartz.
“I think the problem with the stone is that just regular dirt isn’t all one thing,” she mused out loud. “There’s all kinds of things mixed into most dirt and rocks. Silicates, clay, minerals and organics. I should have paid more attention in Geology class, dammit!” she exclaimed as she let the clump of squeezed dirt fall to the floor.
The rains pattering on the roof were showing no signs at all of letting up any time soon, so Morgan settled in for an evening of experimentation. Alleviating her boredom by simply playing with her magics killed two birds with one stone.
Or several birds with one stone, she realized with a thought. Why only practice one type?
Within an hour she was already making progress. A sphere of purple flame hovered a few feet away to her left, and a globe of water to her right. Balancing two opposing types of Mana while holding them steady was difficult at first, and would definitely have been beyond her abilities before acquiring her Class. The extra levels in their respective affinities alleviated the strain once the notifications popped into her head, however, and prompted Morgan to really push herself.
The flame sputtered and dimmed, and the water rippled, threatening to lose cohesion. Slowly, ever so slowly, the lump of earth she had fused together from the discarded shards began to rise directly in front of her. She could feel the strain on her Mana, even though Earth was her strongest Affinity. The addition of a third manipulation began to strain her; she would normally use gestures of hand or arm to help direct the flow of mana, and both hands were currently otherwise occupied.
A bead of sweat fell victim to gravity, travelling down her forehead and into her eye. Her concentration disrupted, the flame died and the water splashed to the ground, followed quickly by the misshapen stone. Panting to recover from the effort, she stood stooped over with her hands on her knees while Lulu set about inspecting this new mess in its domain of cleanliness.
Deciding a break was in order, she tore another chunk of squirrel off the spit and returned to the mossy bed, drawing her feet up to sit cross-legged while she recovered. “I’m glad you seem to be entertained,” she remarked wryly, as the diminutive little puffball wurbled its way around cleaning up the splashed water and mud.
“I didn’t realize just how much I was giving up along with the clothes, Lulu,” she mumbled around a particularly chewy piece of gristle. “I made the choice -- and I can’t really complain, magic is badass! ...Even when it hurts like hell.”
Hunger sated and Mana restored by the short break, Morgan settled herself into a more serious meditative pose and resumed her experimenting. She caught another fist-sized globe of water from the falling rain, pulling it in through the window and stabilizing it above her right hand. Another push with her will and an orb of flame appeared over her left, a flickering [Candleflame] that she pushed more Mana into until it was a roiling violet sphere the same size as the ball of water.
Once again the lump of molded stone began to rise, shaking at first as her Mana seemed to slip around it without gaining purchase. Then an inch became two, then four, and soon the distorted rock was over a foot above the ground. Morgan felt her Mana draining, sweat dripping off her face to track uncomfortably ticklish rivulets between her breasts and down her belly. Holding two Elements stable while trying to manipulate a third was not simply difficult; it was like trying to lift an impossible weight with the barest tips of her fingers, extended awkwardly while she had no leverage.
The draw on her Mana made her feel hot and flushed, uncomfortable despite her [Heat Affinity]. She still refused to give up, mentally leaning into the effort, a spike of pain driving itself between her eyes. Two feet off the ground. Then three.
And then, the lump of stone shot straight upwards with such force that it buried itself into the ceiling of the campsite hutch, as Morgan felt her Mana surge on its own. A wave of force rippled out from her body, bending the ambient light with a faint pulse before it slammed into the floor and the walls and the stone bed upon which she sat. The orb of flame and globe of water dispersed into sparks and spray as she lost control of her Mana entirely.
You have mastered the skill [Earth Affinity]!
By mastering this affinity, you have gained the bonus skill [Terrakinesis]! With this, your command over the Earth itself will grow, permitting extraordinary feats of spellwork. Continue experimenting with Affinities to unlock additional kinesis abilities.
Morgan flopped onto her back in a most unladylike manner, caught in a sudden bout of extreme dizziness from the instantaneous drain of her entire Mana pool. She jerked about like a puppet with tangled strings as the spinning sensation in her head turned to nausea and her recently consumed haunch of murdersquirrel chose that moment to make its reappearance into the outside world.
She just barely managed to roll herself off the bed in time to catch herself on all fours as she violently retched up the contents of her stomach. Her wobbly arms betrayed her then, and she failed miserably at avoiding the spreading pile of acrid bile and chunks as she collapsed from sudden vertigo.
Even Lulu was offended by the mess, hopping back from its mistress while making worried wurbling trills. She finally managed to bring her trembling limbs under at least partial control, leveraging herself back up to her knees with one arm over the stone stool that had been her seat earlier in the day.
“Graa- urgh!” she choked out like a drunk on a three-day bender, still swaying side to side even with her knees on the ground. Her [Regeneration] skill kicked in once her head began to clear, restoring her Mana at the expense of precious calories. The improved form of the old [Naked Recovery] skill was much more efficient, however, and within a handful of minutes she was back to nearly a third of her total magical reserves without yet suffering any more debilitating strain on her fat reserves.
As her Mana returned, so did her cognitive abilities, and the acrid smell of puke and bile stung her sinuses as she heaved to catch her breath while wiping snot and vomit off her face. She staggered to her feet and turned to her makeshift door, determined to at least rinse off in the rain before dealing with the pile of nasty that was now smeared across the floor.
The door she had fashioned was a makeshift affair without hinges, merely a slab of stone set in the opening to the campsite hutch. It had another stone bar set across it with notches on either side, preventing anything from just pushing it open. Reaching out with her Mana, she expected the stone bar to feel as heavy as every other time she had levitated it out of the way.
Instead the bar, the door, and several inches of the surrounding masonry cleanly came away from the wall, the edges separating as smooth as liquid glass. She could feel the weight and the mass, but it was no longer a grunt-inducing effort of will to keep it floating.
“Whoa,” she choked in surprise. “Must be [Terrakinesis]...”
Talking through the horrible taste was an ordeal, and she made her way outside into the rain on swaying legs to lean against the outside of the hut. With the dizzy feeling subsiding and her mana returning, she let go of [Regeneration] and simply stood there letting the downpour wash away the ick.
After a few minutes, time which Morgan spent rinsing out her mouth with rainwater, Morgan felt much better;l good enough to deal with the mess, at least. She promptly did so, directing a blob of rippling water into the hut and using it to draw up the worst of her refunded lunch. With a surge of Frost Mana she solidified the water around the floating wad of nastiness and heaved it away from her campsite as hard as she could with her magic.
With most of the splatter now rinsed away, Lulu resumed her normal routine of wurbling around to tidy things up. Morgan simply stood with her hands on her hips for a long moment, watching and thinking.
“I haven’t been that sick since my high-school graduation,” she grumbled to herself from the doorway while she inspected the damage to her humble abode.
The floor, the walls, the ceiling ceiling -- every surface in the hut was spiderwebbed with cracks. But they were not jagged and sharp like she would have expected. Instead, the fractures had the appearance of softened and extruded candle wax. The wall by the bed where she had been sitting was now bulged outwards like a blister, and the stool a few feet from the bed was bent in the opposite direction like a sad mushroom cap. The squirrel that had been waiting over the coals now lay in the coals, its stone skewer now bent and twisted. As if I could eat any more of that after tasting it on the way back up.
“Well, [Terrakinesis] really did a number on this shit, Lulu.” she said flatly, taking in the damage.
She had no intention of risking the building collapsing on her during the night, and drops of water were leaking through imperfections now lacing through the structure. Curiosity about the new skill also had a part to play along with the safety concerns as she reached out with her Mana and her senses.
The stone and earth now felt far more real to her senses; she could tell that difference right away. Her effective range was increased, and as her magic permeated the stone and ground below, there was a sense of a more detailed perception. At first, [Mana Sight] did not show her anything she had not already seen, but her expanded senses allowed her to interpret far more information about the Mana flowing through the stone in swirls and eddies.
The notification for her vision-enhancing rune gaining a level went almost unnoticed before this new information. It made sense to her; after all, she had been relying on it constantly since her Class Selection and acquiring the first [Living Rune], so it was bound to level up sooner or later.
What was revealed to her enhanced senses now came in much finer detail. She could pick out the various things that actually made up the stone. Parts that she were almost certain were clay were interspersed with what tasted to her senses like the scent of rust. I’m pretty sure that’s iron oxide in the strata, she thought with no small amount of wonder.
Other things ran through the stone as well. Grains of metals had varying flavors ranging from dull to a fizzy buzzing taste like licking a nine volt battery. The sharp tang of different crystalline structures stood out in some parts of the stone as well. And with her newly acquired [Terrakinesis], all of these things could be moved.
“I see now why I couldn’t make the stone any stronger! It’s all smushed together with no underlying crystalline structure!”
The drain on her Mana for manipulating a given amount of earth and stone felt noticeably lighter. Pushing her magic outwards into the stone was not quite as easy as breathing, but it came fairly close to it. Another firm shove with her willpower and roughly a fifth of her Mana later, the stone walls, roof, and floor were just about as packed with magic as she figured she could get them, far more than she had ever been able to before.
With that much of her Mana flowing through it, the stone flowed as well. Like a warm syrup, the various underlying structures within the mass began to rearrange. Morgan did not try to think of every single cubic millimeter of the substance, she merely let it flow into as strong of an interlocking pattern as she could get by feel. Clay and silicates shifted around iron and other hair-thin traces of metals, and collapsed in around the quartzy buzzing crystal structures.
The almost-liquid stone also flowed around another contaminant that had earlier helped prevent her from condensing the material. Tiny air pockets smaller than pinheads drifted to the surface of the stone, and she could feel it getting denser and stronger as the gaps that she had never realized existed were now filled in on an astonishingly tiny scale.
So entranced was Morgan by this new expanded ability that she almost did not react in time to the tingling sensation on the back of her neck, but [Primal Instinct] had leveled as well in the days since leaving Moghren’s home. Lulu’s senses also proved to be just as effective as her own, and the scrubby gave its signature wurbling warcry as the [Skyclad Sorceress] dove sideways out of the doorway into a tucked roll.
As she rolled back onto her side, facing the doorway, she let loose a short burst of [Lightning Bolt] combined with [Spell Channeling] for a crackling stream of pellet sized destruction. The brilliant incandescence exploded against something that rippled in the rain and had far too many legs for Morgan’s comfort. The tiny bolts of lightning, normally able to drill straight through the enormous trees of the forest with far less mana than she was using, skipped off some manner of shield.
She had to use [Acceleration] in order to dodge her own spell fragments as some of them bounced straight back at her. As the thing, whatever it was, barreled through the open doorway, an enraged loofah came zooming out of the stone hut in full-blown exfoliate attack mode. Rainwater and silty mud were sent flying in a miniature bow wave as the spinning ball of lethal lace raced immediately to Morgan’s side to take up a guard position.
Turning back to face into the building, she finally saw her assailant.Now occupying Morgan’s former temporary home was a hard-shelled creature over ten feet long, with hundreds of legs and vicious mandibles at the end that held the glittering eyes.
As if that weren’t enough by itself, its armored segments of shell seemed to have ridges of crystal along the edges where they overlapped. These ridges, the tips of all of its legs, and especially the mandibles were lit up like the Vegas strip to her [Mana Sight]; angry colors that clearly indicated its immense threat.
“Holy fuck that’s a lotta nope!” she exclaimed.
Direct spell attacks having proven ineffective once, she was in no hurry to try blasting it with something more powerful and risking the blowback from its shield. It seemed more intent on claiming the dry space as territory rather than coming back out into the rain, so Morgan simply reached out with her new skill and quickly jerked the door section back into place, sealing it with a burst of magic.
“Well shit,” she said after her heartbeat slowed slightly and she finally caught her breath. Almost as an afterthought, she ripped up a basketball-sized chunk of dirt and squeezed it down into a broad flattened dome which she levitated above herself and the still-trilling loofah.
“Eagles, wolves, lynxes, tyrannorabbits, murdersquirrels, even my own ancestor wants to eat me in this fucked up world!” she shouted in frustration. “And now some fucking doom-noodle wants to run me out of my own house!?” The loofah wurbled angrily in agreement. Although its understanding of her actual words was up for debate, its loyalty was most certainly not.
Fed up, angry, and definitely not willing to slog however many miles it took through the rain to find another good spot to camp, Morgan decided that enough was simply enough.
With a bit more force than she intended, she pushed the domed roof of the hut downwards and flattened it out. The whooshing of air out of the chimney-vent and the small windows was immediately followed by a flurry of angry hissing and scuttling noises. Mandible tips periodically poked out of the hand-sized openings, but the creature was simply too large to get out that way; the reinforced stone was now too strong for it to break even with those frightening vice-like jaws.
The hissing was followed by thumps and thuds as it charged wall after wall, but Morgan’s construction held true. After flattening the roof, she opened up even more tiny vents, strengthening the remaining stone as she squeezed it into a rough form resembling a net. No space wider than her hand, and no span of stone any smaller than that either. Another wave of Mana and a little more effort smoothed out the windows to seal the walls, leaving only the openings in the now-flattened top of the structure.
Steam from the coals of her once-campfire trickled up for a moment or two before the rains quenched the last of the smoldering fire pit. Coldly, methodically, Morgan pulled water up from around her and lobbed it into the hut-turned-pool. The rains were heavy, providing plenty of water for her to work with. Within minutes, the hut was overflowing.
The creature thrashed at the top of the makeshift cage, its reflective magical shield unable to affect the mundane water it found itself trapped in. Morgan simply waited for her mana to recover while considering how to best bring about a swift end to the creature. She was also quite aware of just how tasty [Primal Instinct] was telling her this new invader happened to be.
With that in mind, and very much not interested in eating another murdersquirrel, Morgan reached through the stone with her mana to feel the even dozen [Candleflame Rune] enchantments inscribed around the inside of the stone hut.
At first the runes seemed to have no effect. The water simply had too much mass to quickly heat up, at least not quickly. The draw on her Mana was still fairly light with such simple runes, so Morgan paced around the structure placing more runes every couple of steps. These ones she inscribed down lower, and with more sources of heat pushing energy into the water the effect finally became noticeable.
The stone was warmer to the touch already, low mist beginning to steam where the rains dripped down the outsides of the hut. The creature thrashed harder, actually managing to cause the walls to shiver and kick a spray of droplets away from the sides of the building.
Morgan pushed even more of her magic into the [Candleflame Runes], prompting another bout of frantic attacks against the walls and top of the hut.
And then she activated [Spell Surge], and shoved so much Mana through the runes that the stone began to glow.
The creature screamed in pain and agony as it began to boil alive.
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 18: Terrakinesis",
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Skyclad, Book One of Fate's Anvil, has concluded. The second book, Skybound, has officially begun. Skyclad will be published in print and ebook formats as soon as i can manage it:)
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"title": "Skyclad - Book Two",
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Morgan Mackenzie was running for her life, with a warbling scrubby giving panic-filled trills while desperately hanging on to her shoulder with whatever loofah magic that Lulu used. When the first giant wolf had appeared at the far edge of the meadow, she had felt confident in her abilities to defend herself with her magic. But [Naked Instinct] had simply kept ratcheting up in its intensity, and when [The Naked Eye] had revealed at least a dozen more wolves closing in through the trees her confidence had drained away like the last swirling dregs of dishwater flowing down the sink. Nervousness became naked fear as a dozen became two dozen became three.
Thankfully [Naked Instinct] was more useful than a simple feeling as she had found herself rolling to the side without thinking, just as Lulu had given a warbling warning right in her ear. The wolf that had managed to sneak up behind her had missed its lunging attack, but its near-silent passing over her was equally disturbing. As Morgan rolled back to her feet she had tossed a sizzling bolt of lightning at the creature, but it had simply twisted in mid-air with a snarl, avoiding the charged projectile without so much as singeing its fur as it landed with a roll through the dirt.
The girl had immediately turned to run, only to find the entire meadow surrounded. The lone attacking wolf was merely the vanguard before the rest of the pack closed in. [Spell Surge], followed by her tossing several [Flame Bolt] spells, resulted in new craters and one side of the encirclement scattering. Morgan had wasted no time sprinting for the opening, and that was how she found herself dashing madly through the forest with howling death nipping at her heels.
The damaging backlash she had suffered from using [Spell Surge] with the fire magic had left her hands once again blistered and cracked. She did not even consider slowing down, however. The pain was tolerable thanks to her [Pain Resistance] and the damage was fairly superficial thanks to her affinities for Heat and Fire and the associated resistances.
Her boosted physical capability both from her spent stat points and the skill [Naked Athleticism] were paying dividends with interest now. Similar to when she had climbed down from the giant tree, the skill helped her instinctively make the most efficient movements as she ran, and her increased strength meant her strides practically launched her with each step, while her agility helped her keep her balance with the impact of every footfall. Morgan had never imagined being able to run like this, and would have been amazed at her speed if not for the sheer terror driving her heart to pound like a jackhammer.
Any possible thoughts of slowing down were immediately curtailed by the moonlit shapes keeping pace with her through the woods in the distance to either side. As fast as she had been running, the wolves were easily keeping pace, almost as if they were toying with her. They had closed in a few times, and she had responded with bursts of lightning and flame and terrible accuracy since she could not spare the attention to aim. The oversized canines simply melted back into the trees unscathed, howls mocking her every effort at retaliation.
Morgan ran for hours. She had no idea how many miles she had covered. Probably somewhere between a whole bunch of miles and a heck of a lot, she thought to herself, having no breath to spare to speak out loud. As night had fallen sometime around the beginning of her running, the moons had soon risen somewhere to her right. With no frame of reference for the greater surrounding region as a whole, she figured north was as good a direction as any. Between the moonlight and [The Naked Eye] she could see better in the pale night than she had been able to during the day before she gained the skill.
Back on Earth a run like this would have killed me all by itself, she thought with mixed emotions. It was almost surreal that she could even think in a situation like this, but her options were simple and required little thought to process. Either run, fight, or die. Twice she had tried to slow down to make a stand with her back to a large tree or earth abutment, and twice the wolves simply melted away from the reach of her spells, panting like laughter as if she were merely a game to them. With fighting proven useless, her choices were reduced to running or death.
Morgan had found she could spend Stamina like extra effort in short bursts. She had leapt over fallen trees and jumped over a small stream with the enhanced exertion, resulting in feats that would make olympic medalists on Earth feel inadequate. Her stamina could not recover under the strain of her fear-driven flight, however. When she let herself slow enough that it began to restore itself, there was always a wolf or two right on her heels, nipping at her backside as Lulu’s warning warbles rose to a piercing pitch.
This is an endurance race, she realized with sudden dawning clarity. Every big jump or dash brings my Stamina lower, she thought, and they won’t let me slow down enough to get it back.
That realization almost brought her to the brink of despair. With their numbers and the ease with which they kept pace with her it was only a matter of time until her stamina was low enough that her body would begin to devour itself to keep her going. Simply running, even at her impressive pace, was no terrible burden on her reserves thanks to her improved stat attributes. She could tell through her healing skill’s senses that Stamina aside, she would run into sleep deprivation problems before her caloric reserves became an issue, going by how efficiently her body seemed to presently be operating.
Stamina was simply her ultimate problem. Every bite at her flanks and bare bottom, when the wolves rushed her or she slowed her pace, required healing at least enough to stop the bleeding. Vaulting streams or other obstacles and the healings each cost her a small portion of stamina, and running at her current pace took enough of it to keep her from regenerating it, even with her high Vitality stat.
Mana, on the other hand, she had plenty of. There has to be a way to use Mana instead of Stamina to go faster! Her thoughts were frantic; she could not exactly stop to experiment or look for a solution. But I have to try something now while I have the Stamina to recover if it doesn’t work, she scolded herself.
After running so long, she was getting familiar with how her body used up Stamina when she burned it to speed up or jump higher or dodge the snarling fangs. If I can just use Mana instead of Stamina, but I have no idea which Element…
At Lulu’s sudden trill of warning that her pursuers were once again closing in, Morgan seized her Mana without attempting to filter out the Elements she had already become familiar with. I’ll just have to throw it all in and hope something sticks, she thought. She pushed off with her legs in the same way she had used Stamina to jump before, hoping to at least lunge ahead of snapping jaws, but willed her Mana into the jump instead.
She had hoped to gain a few dozen paces in a burst of speed. The result she actually got was a burst of Mana running wild as the ground underneath her exploded under the pressure of her foot’s impact. Startled yelps and snarls she barely noticed behind her, as she was launched several dozen Morgan-lengths ahead at a truly frightening speed. She would have considered it a resounding success except for the fact that her left knee had shattered under the shock, and she was not only flying through the air but also tumbling while a terrified Lulu emitted purbling whimpers right in her ear.
Morgan hit the ground in a flopping roll, only her [Pain Resistance] skill keeping her conscious. She could see with her recovery skill that the bones in her knee joint had compressed together with such force that the crystalline marrow core had fractured, then splintered against each other and practically exploded inside her knee. The marrow-crystals burned with mana and were quickly dissolving back into her blood as [Naked Recovery] regrew then re-aligned the joint almost before she hit the ground, but even with her resistance the pain was enough to have her screaming. She was worried she might have spent too much Stamina to heal it so quickly, but it was necessary if she were to remain able to run.
She scrambled to her feet, still limping but quickly recovering. Lulu had come loose from her shoulder when she landed and she dashed franticly over to the scrubby and picked it up, sticking the loofah back on her shoulder as she looked around for the wolves. She could see many in the distance running between the trees, and the two who had harried her were both over a hundred yards away, shaking the mud and dirt off their tawny brown fur. They were standing in the middle of a splattered sprawl of earth and brushy detritus that had been kicked up by Morgan’s sudden launch, and it was only the sudden shock of it that had bought the girl a moment’s respite.
She had rolled partway up a low rounded hillside, and she put her back to the mounded earth as the pair of wolves closed in. Every moment not running was a few more points of Stamina regenerated, but that wasn’t the only reason she stopped. The rest of the pack had been left farther behind the two vanguards, and Morgan was not about to miss a chance at some payback. Especially not when her Mana was literally brimming over, the channeled recovery skill having topped her off. As the wolves spread apart to attack her from both sides, she planted her feet and timed their simultaneous lunge as much by instinct as by sight.
[Spell Surge] caused violet arcs of wild power to snap at the air around her as she pulled on every bit of Earth Mana she could muster and shoved outwards with both hands. No amount of twisting could save either wolf as the ground around Morgan exploded towards them in a massive [Earth Wave]. Hundreds of finger-width spines of jagged stone, accompanied by tons of smaller rocks and a cascading wall of mud, blasted outwards from where she stood. The raised wave of muddy dirt fell away but Morgan was already certain of her victory because of notifications, even before she could see the pincushioned canines suspended in the air mid-charge.
You have defeated [Wildlands Direwolf Scout(Lvl - 6)]
For earning your victory while [Naked] and [Unequipped], experience gain doubled.
+300 experience gained.
You have defeated [Wildlands Direwolf Scout(Lvl - 6)]
For earning your victory while [Naked] and [Unequipped], experience gain doubled.
+300 experience gained.
A minor victory, but she felt a surge of exultation anyway. The sudden and massive expenditure of power had drained her mana by almost two thirds, but it was quickly coming back as she activated [Naked Recovery] to finish healing her shattered knee. The rest of the pack seemed almost stunned by her sudden violent retaliation, slowing their approach through the trees and slowing to a creeping stalk as they paced through the trees around her. The deaths of two of their packmates did not go without consequence, however, as a new howl Morgan had not yet heard shattered the hushed whispering quiet of the night.
The howl wasn’t just louder than the previous ones that had so terrified Morgan during her frantic flight from the pack. It was deeper, and it vibrated her bones with mournful notes that spoke to her soul of ancient rage and forlorn despair and wild expectation all at once. The night itself stilled as the sorrowed sound laid like a blanket across the world. With this new eerie howl turning her fear to stark terror she actually wet herself. As one, every wolf in sight sank to their bellies, even the ones closest to her. Those four had stopped just shy of her range, and they now lay trembling before the moonlit grief of that primordial howl. The shaking woman grit her teeth and fought to keep from kneeling as two more howls, just as powerful though shorter and not quite as deeply pitched, answered the first.
Farther behind the crouching wolves, the dappled moonlight seemed to bow away from three massive shadows that even [The Naked Eye] could not pierce. All of the pack were huge, as tall as Morgan even crouched as low as they were, with massive triangular heads that turned in deference before their betters. The three shadows stepped into the bright moonlit night from under the forest canopy, and Morgan understood why the pack had knelt, as the same urge to kneel almost overcame her senses.
This was submission, for the Alphas of the Pack had arrived. On her shoulder, Lulu’s whimpering purble trailed away to a quivering vibration that Morgan could feel as the scrubby tried to shrink itself and hide in her hair. The Alphas were true giants, and she could have easily walked underneath any of them without her head so much as disturbing their chest fur. Two of them were golden shades of dappled brown fading to darker reddish hues along their ears and paws and tails, and they spread out to the sides with silent steps to bracket her position. The third was slightly larger than the first two, and dark grey, with black ears and muzzle instead of brown. Undeniably the dominant male leader of all the others, he stepped forward to where her earthen spikes had skewered the two lesser wolves.
With a chuffing rumble and growl that gave off power she could feel from over thirty yards away, the spikes holding up the two wolves crumbled to dust and the corpses fell to the ground. Morgan backed up slowly, trying to angle her path to bring the hillside between her and the wolves. Her plan was to put some distance between her and these mighty beasts, even if she had to burn half her Stamina and Mana at the same time to do it. She was in a place somewhere beyond fear and dread, and it was empty and calm and clear as the still surface of a cold winter pond. She knew, beyond all certainty, that she would either live or die, and all she could do was all she could do. She had no hope of outrunning these three, not even with enhanced abilities nor with any magic she could imagine, but she had somehow decided that she would not just lay down and accept it.
The massive Alpha male silently gazed down at her as the two females stepped forward, each gently lifting the smaller dead wolves by the blood-matted napes of their necks like cubs. The Alpha turned his head to watch as they somberly strode away to Morgan’s left, while she backed away to the side of the hill readying her will for a last-ditch effort to sprint away to the right. She called forth her Mana in full with [Spell Surge], the Alpha snapped its muzzle back in her direction with a snarl, and then the hill to Morgan’s left side stood up, and all hell broke loose.
Morgan fell to the ground, staring at the terrain to her left that kept on rising despite its appearance of being a mere hill that had no business having any methods of locomotion whatsoever. The Alpha, too, fell flat on its ass, and Morgan took a grain of comfort in that she wasn't the only one who had been surprised by whatever this new catastrophe happened to be.
Her eardrums were simply blown out by an impossibly loud hooting roar, somewhere between a steam whistle and a jetliner on take-off. Dirt and rocks and even small trees tumbled all round, and her ears -now ringing as she healed herself- revealed shocked yips and snarls as the sudden mountain turned. A mighty chelonian foot the size of a steam-shovel bucket descended next to her, sending her tumbling to the ground once again. As the rubble continued to fall away it revealed a broad domed shell that had been the hilltop only moments before, and as it finished turning the mighty beaked head struck.
In the span of a heartbeat one of the female alphas was completely devoured in a single echoing snap of that horrible maw. The wolf’s front half, including the cub it had been carrying, were simply gone, leaving shortened hindquarters that took a ludicrously stretched out moment to fall over. The Pack scattered, and the Alpha’s howl of rage shook even the moonlight itself.
Morgan did not stick around to watch the imminent battle. She still held her Mana, and now she tried again to boost her speed, this time using her Stamina at the same time as a sort of guide. She headed north once again, fueled by terror and adrenaline and urged on by Lulu’s whimpering purbles. With her Stamina and Mana together, she was finally rewarded with a most exceptionally useful skill:
You have learned the skill [Naked Acceleration]! All too often, sheer speed is the key to survival! Expend mana to accelerate your body with a temporal dilation effect, but beware! Inertia is not cancelled out by this skill! This skill shares synergy with [Naked Instinct], allowing you to more easily compensate for high impact movements while the skill is active.
The experience was surreal, especially given her situation. Morgan wasn’t moving faster so much as the rest of the world was barely moving at all, at least to her senses. As she curved her path around what she had already mentally named the Doomturtle, the rocks and trees still tumbling down moved in slow motion. Sound was felt more than heard, a full body buzzing like low pitched static while swimming underwater. As she leaned into turns to dodge nearly still rocks slowly descending towards the ground, her bare feet punched divots of dirt into the air every time she kicked off to change direction.
She now understood what the skill description meant by inertia and high impact movements. She could feel her knees and ankles developing microfractures she constantly had to heal with her stamina as she burned mana to keep her speed up. But while she felt as if she was running normally, albeit at a full sprint, she knew the reality was that, well…
This is fucking FAST! Morgan thought to herself. A glance back had revealed that the wolves had barely begun to react, and the Doomturtle’s movements were nearly imperceptible. She turned her attention back to putting as much distance between her and the danger as she possibly could before her Mana got too low. Every step she pushed off with launched her forward in bounds that covered over twenty yards per footfall. She felt she could go even faster, but that would cost too much Stamina due to the constant healing. She paced herself in order to allow her Stamina to recover. By the time her Mana had dropped below half she had put several miles between herself and the pack, and she let go of the newly acquired skill.
Panting, she slowed to a stop, shaking from the adrenaline and remnants of fear. Lulu was quite upset as well, manic purbles and warbles a riot of vocalization from the little scrubby. Its own concern and panic were quite obvious as the poor thing seemed to not know what to do, hopping all over Morgan as if checking to make sure her everything was okay. “Oh shit, I’m sorry Lulu,” Morgan said, pulling the scrubby in for a comforting hug. “That had to be terrifying if the haste effect didn’t cover you as well.” The loofah took several long moments to finally calm down, followed by stern wurbling as she scolded her mistress for such a distressing experience. Morgan knew they could not tarry for long, as the howls in the distance were already closing in.
She no longer felt totally hopeless though, and took a brief time to let her mind settle and try to think of a plan. She thought very seriously about using [Earth Sculpt] to burrow down as deeply as she could, but that plan was tossed out as she realized the wolves could dig, or might have other abilities she hadn’t seen. At the very least they could simply camp out in the area and ambush her wherever she popped up for air or food.
Morgan knew she just had to keep running until she found a place the wolves simply had no possible way to follow. With the howls getting closer once again, she started doing exactly that. Heading north again if only for lack of a better idea, she once again used the acceleration skill. This time she warned Lulu first, however, and the scrubby responded by burrowing up into her mane of hair, anchoring itself solidly before giving a purble to announce its readiness for the impending burst of speed.
This time Morgan was starting with both her Stamina and Mana almost full, so she didn’t hold back. She took off at a full sprint and kept it up. It quickly became apparent just how hard she could push off against the ground before damaging herself, and she soon settled into a loping pace that she could maintain for hours. And she did just that. Navigating the forest by moonlight was almost trivial under the light of the twin moons, especially with [The Naked Eye]. The greatest difficulty she had came from slowing down and releasing her haste skill so she could jump over fallen trees and the like. Her singular attempt at jumping over a stump while under the effects of [Naked Acceleration] had launched her through the next tree in the way.
Broken bones and warbling protests had punctuated another break from running while she healed herself again amidst the shattered ruins of the tree that had stopped her. As her flesh knit itself back together and her bones realigned, she staggered to her feet. She could hear no howls, but [Naked Instinct] still screamed danger to her senses. The frequent healing was also beginning to take its toll on her body’s reserves that she had gained from eating most of a giant crispy cat, even with the extreme metabolic efficiency of [Naked Recovery]. She was nowhere near starving yet, but as things were currently going she would need some form of food within a day or she would burn through her body’s reserves. That time would be greatly reduced if she had to recover from more extreme injuries.
The forest seemed truly endless to Morgan as she continued to run, and everything sort of fell into a pattern of sameness. She would cancel [Naked Acceleration] and slow to an easy lope for a time to let her Mana recover while she healed the accrued damage that built up from pushing her body so hard. So far her bursts of speed had kept her far enough ahead of the pack that they were no longer chewing on her backside as she ran, but Morgan knew that this was their game.
Run the prey to exhaustion, she thought, recalling every wolf documentary she now wished she had actually paid attention to. Dad always loved his animal shows; he’d know exactly what to do. The repetitive cycle of accelerated sprinting and slower loping really did leave her mind almost too free to wander. Aside from the occasional creek or boulder or fallen tree, she only really had to think about navigating the sparse brush that grew under the gaps in the forest canopy. That all changed when the forest gave way abruptly, the rolling hills of the woods dropping off to a vast grassy field that stretched for miles in either direction. And from her higher vantage point at the forest edge where she had slowed to a stop, she could see just a mile or so in the distance a river winding through the plain.
This was no small stream, she realized as the fading light of the moons gave way to the first glimmers of dawn that sent rippling reflections twinkling across the water. She had been running all night, and she felt the first spark of hope in all that time flare up while she gazed at the other side. In the distance past the far riverbank, a sheer cliff rose up from the low hills. The vertical stone walls stretched skyward for thousands of feet, the tops of the cliffs shrouded in mists not yet burned away by the day’s rising sun. She could see with [The Naked Eye] various cracks and formations in the winding ribbon-like walls of rock. Trees and brush and lush verdant ivy painted intense green contrast to the nearly black mountainside where ledges and outcroppings allowed plants to find purchase.
“AHA!” she shouted in exaltation as she jumped up and down clutching the scrubby in her hands despite its surprised purbling protests. “Lets see those fuckers climb that shit, Lulu! And I can make my own handholds!”
Her sudden outburst had startled more than the scrubby, however, as Morgan’s [Naked Instinct] reared its insistent head once again. Two utterly massive oversized ears suddenly appeared above the shoulder-height grasses less than a dozen yards from the surprised woman, the tips of the ears almost comically flopped forward and tufted in white. She would have thought they were cute, if the Morgan-length ears had not kept rising, followed by a very not-cute and honestly quite frightening caricature of a rabbit’s head. The eyes were solid red and, instead of the typical rodent incisors she would have expected even a giant sort of rabbit to have, its mouth opened wide to reveal double rows of wickedly sharp fangs. As it rose up on its haunches, the horse-sized creature let loose a scream that gave Morgan a notification and left her body frozen perfectly still and helpless.
Status afflicted: [Paralysis]! You have been frozen in place by [Tyrannorabbit]’s [Scream]!
Morgan’s mind was nearly as frozen in shock as her body was. Her magic was dropping away as if there were a layer of static interference between her and her Mana. The whole absurdity of her situation only fueled her outrage, and she furiously willed herself to move as the new threat hopped towards her with a ridiculous wobbling gait. She had just managed to get her fingers and toes to move as it pushed its way out of the grass and came into full view, but her magic was still not responding. The creature looked almost cartoonishly mutated, its front limbs smaller and held in close to its chest while its hind legs and feet were oversized in the extreme. The juxtaposition of its name and its mutated form were not lost on Morgan, and she would have laughed were it not for the danger. It lacked the balancing tail that made its namesake dinosaur beneficiary so mobile, and that gave it a waddling gait that belied the obvious lethality of that ever-widening maw of teeth.
She managed to stumble back a half-step, as the [Tyrannorabbit] duck-walked closer, and saw several more pairs of ears pop up in the grass beyond. But these were not facing her direction. A sudden basso snarl revealed exactly what they were listening to as the familiar canine form of a wolf slammed into the [Tyrannorabbit] with enough force that she felt the thump of it in her chest from the impact. With her legs working slightly better she tried another step, and fell backwards away from the brawl.
The fall was enough to clear the paralysis and her magic once again felt under her control. As she rolled to her feet Morgan saw wolves pouring out of the forest, and what had before been a beautiful dawnlit landscape devolved to snarls and howls and rabbit-esque screams that cut short in sprays of blood and flying fur.
She wasted no time making her break for the river. The tall grass was much harder to run through than the mossy dirt and leaves she had grown used to padding across with her bare feet in the forest. A full sprint was practically impossible, stubs of grass and roots tearing her feet to a degree that would have been crippling without her [Pain Resistance] and [Naked Recovery].
A wrenching, rage-filled howl that bent the grasses down in rippling waves as far as the eye could see had Morgan instantly re-thinking that full sprint. She ignored the pain from her feet and leaned into a pulse of [Naked Acceleration] as the giant Alpha from before made its appearance. [Naked Instinct] spiked again as the bigger wolf ignored the other prey and homed in on her, almost keeping up with her accelerated rush. As Morgan broke free of the grassland onto the sandy bank of the river, her feet kicked up a rooster tail of sandy dirt sprays behind her. Approaching the water at a pace faster than most highway speed limits, she called upon [Spell Surge] to boost her acceleration skill even farther, and burned almost half of her total Stamina at the same time to temporarily empower her body.
Less than a step before the water’s edge, Morgan planted her feet at the lowest point in her stride and pulled Lulu from her shoulder to the middle of her chest, and with both her Mana and her Stamina aiding her efforts, she jumped.
Between the force against the ground and her feet and legs, Morgan managed to launch herself up and across the river at a speed that was truly frightening, even as her mind was buffered by [Naked Acceleration]. The kick-off had crushed her ankles and knees and even fractured her hips and pelvis, and the same force against the ground had excavated several tons of silty sand and mud. As she tumbled through the air she watched the Alpha charge right through the spray wreathed in enough of his own ambient power to repel the wave of dirt, and also the water of the river as he continued the pursuit.
At the apex of her flight trajectory, just as she levelled off and began to descend, Morgan released [Naked Acceleration] but not [Spell Surge], as she used the only form of manipulating the Air Element that she had so far managed. Already using her Stamina furiously to heal the damage from her jump, she curled herself into a ball and cradled a very loudly warbling and panicked Lulu. Empowered by [Spell Surge], she hardened the Air around them into a round ball.
She did not quite make the distance, hitting the water almost thirty feet shy of the far bank, but her improvised sphere of Air Mana worked. She bounced once off the water, skipping like a stone to plow into soft sand and leaving a shallow furrow excavated out of the earth. She also gained her very first Air spell:
You have gained the spell [Wind Barrier]! What cannot hit you cannot hurt you! Increase the density of the air around you and shape a barrier as you desire! Expending more Mana increases the strength of your Barrier!
Morgan dismissed the notification almost without a thought. She had no time to stop and play with the new spell, not with less than a quarter of her Mana left and her Stamina reduced to a similar amount. She sacrificed even more Stamina as she scrambled to her feet, preparing to resume her sprint for the cliffs. Expecting to face the pursuing Alpha, she turned and could only stare in shock.
The rest of the pack, including the remaining Alpha Female, had all stopped well short of the water. From the edge of the grassland they stood witness to the same sight that now held Morgan transfixed. The giant alpha male that had been chasing her had made it across the water right behind her, but was now in a fight for its life. Thing was the only word she could think of to describe the new monster now embattled with her pursuer barely a few dozen paces away from where she had landed.
The rest of the pack refused to come any closer to the water, and Morgan well understood why, if the monster she was now seeing had any relatives lurking below. She had thought it was tentacles at first, but as she watched the battle play out she realized it was more like a cluster of eels growing out where a larger eel would have had a head. The wolf and the thing thrashed in the shallows, deep rumbling snarls and slimy sounding hisses roiling against Morgan’s eardrums. The great wolf’s flanks were shredded and bleeding, and it was now missing an eye, but it was giving even better than it had got.
She stood there watching almost in a trance, letting [Naked Recovery] heal her fractured bones and restore her much depleted Mana. She could feel Mana being used in the fight as well as see the effects. The eel-hydra seemed to be made from electric eels, as several of its heads latched onto the wolf’s forelegs and sides and green lightning arced around them. It was only temporarily effective though, as the mighty wolf had managed to sink his jaws into the clump where all the necks grew out from the main body. With an almost contemptuous snarling the wolf dug in with its hindquarters and viciously jerked its head from side to side as it worked the massive eel monster farther out of the water.
With its biggest advantage negated the thing tried to escape, thrashing in the mud in an attempt to retreat to the safety of the water, but the enraged Alpha was having none of that. With all four feet on solid ground it danced around the weakening strikes, tearing at one neck after the other. When the last of its heads finally came free, the main body thrashed a few more times before going still. The giant wolf, wheezing and exhausted, gave it one final vicious shake with its jaws before dropping it. The victor stood with his front paws on his defeated foe and gave one last victorious howl to the sky.
Just in time for Morgan’s [Spell Surge] amplified [Flame Bolt] to blast its head from its shoulders in a singularly impressive display of burning brains and bones and teeth. And then several surprising things happened almost all at once.
You have defeated [Lesser Direwolf Alpha(Lvl - 14)]
For earning your victory while [Naked] and [Unequipped], experience gain doubled.
+5300 experience gained.
Morgan stared in shock at the notification. “Lesser!?”
Lulu made strange purbling noises from her shoulder and suddenly began glowing, startling Morgan back to attention as another notification popped up.
Congratulations! Lulu has reached Level 2!
Followed by another:
Congratulations! Lulu has reached Level 3!
And then another:
DING!
You have reached Level 10! Health and Status partially restored!
For reaching this milestone while [Naked] and [Unequipped], rewarded points doubled.
10 distributable Stat Points awarded.
10 Skill Points awarded.
Class Selection Unlocked!
Initialize Class Selection for one-time review before choosing. After reviewing available classes, you may choose your class or choose to Delay Class Selection to allow new possible class options later. WARNING! Levelling capped at Level 10 until a Class has been Chosen!
Initialize Class Selection now? [Yes/No]
Morgan had but a moment to parse this new influx of data, however. WIth the death of the [Lesser Direwolf Alpha], the howling and yipping rest of the pack had fallen silent on the other side of the river. Every previous feeling of fear and panic spurred on by her [Naked Instinct] suddenly faded to a pale memory as without even thinking she instinctively crouched low in the sand clutching Lulu, and activated [Naked Camouflage]. She had almost forgotten she even had the skill, and it was no comfort before this dread pressure now squeezing the very light out of the day.
A low roiling mist had began to slowly creep out of the trees, and it flowed across the ground and the rest of the wolfpack. The mist curled almost lovingly around the pack members before thickening and rising higher. It came to the very edge of the now calmed waters and stopped there, as the morning sunlight seemed to fade back to the dim pre-dawn night. The mists gently roiled higher until they obscured the trees of the distant forest edge, and then receded like a slow sigh finally released.
The pack of wolves was now simply gone. In their place, on the other side of the river and looking directly at Morgan was an utterly massive wolf, easily twice the size of the [Lesser Direwolf Alpha]. It made no sound and did not blink, and though its fur rippled as if there were a breeze, there was no wind. She stared back at it, entranced by the glow of its ancient amber eyes. And she had no doubts, this wolf was old. Its fur was a yellowed gray with white on its muzzle and ears. She could suddenly hear its slow growling breath even from hundreds of yards away, and as it kept its eyes locked on hers yet another notification slammed into her mind:
The Ancient Direwolf Packmother has Marked you as Enemy of The Pack! Cross their territory at your peril! The Moonlit Hunt is Unending!
She could feel something hit her along with the notification, something that rattled her entire body and knocked her out of [Naked Camouflage]. A whisper of Mana of a type she could not touch brushed across her bones, leaving traces that faded a heartbeat later. Any delusions of being hidden fled her mind, and Morgan stood up with resignation. If this wolf wanted to cross the river, it would, and Morgan knew she could not outrun this one. Her only salvation was the fact that she seemed to have made it outside the territory of the pack. This ancient being not only respected the oldest rules, for all Morgan knew the thing had written them.
The Packmother raised her head to the sky, and what came forth could not simply be called a howl. It was grief made manifest, a resonating sorrow that caused the land and waters to vibrate kicking up dirt and river spray. It was a memory of a time older than ancient, when mankind feared the dark and worshiped the life-giving fire, and the only safety to be found in the world was within the light of those embers. It made Morgan want to rip her own heart out of her chest in mourning, and at the same time she wanted to dance for triumph and sheer joy of survival.
The piercing cry carried on and on and brought tears to her eyes as it faded. She felt like she had lost something important as the sound faded away, but gained a new understanding as well. As she blinked the tears away the daylight returned between one moment and the next, and the Packmother was gone.
Sobbing for multiple reasons, Morgan fell to her knees as [Naked Instinct] finally faded and the adrenaline shock hit her. Relief at no longer being hunted warred with a guilt she did not understand feeling over killing the Lesser Alpha. She knew it would have killed her, but that did not make her proud of it. It only meant she was the one that survived. And so she sat and cried while Lulu made comforting purrs.
It was a much needed release, and after a few minutes Morgan felt much better, and well recovered in Mana and Stamina. Her body’s reserves were low, but there were literal tons of fresh meat less than a dozen yards away, so with food and safety at least minimally assured, she returned her attention to the previous notification.
Initialize Class Selection now? [Yes/No]
“I don’t know what’s going to happen, Lulu.” she said. The little scrubby responded with a puffling gesture very evocative of a shrug, and hopped off her shoulder with a warble. The precocious loofah seemed completely over the train wreck that had been their entire night, and seemed to have decided to stand guard while Morgan did whatever it was she was about to do.
Without any further words, she responded to the notification with a mental yes.
Class Selection Initializing. Preparing Temporal Suspension Instance.
And then the world vanished around her.
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 9: Run, Fight, or Die",
"author": "a_man_in_black",
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Morgan Mackenzie was startled awake by the intrusion of more insistent DING! notifications slamming into her head. She was alive, although she was not quite sure how. Her everything hurt, but in a distant and numbed manner. It was as if she were sitting in the back seat of her own mind. Sensations filtered through as if she were experiencing them second-hand, like it was all happening to some other Morgan. This Morgan knew she was in a state of shock, but it was the only way for her to even function at the moment. She knew this feeling of detachment could not last, so she pulled herself together and directed her attention at the insistent messages intruding upon her mind.
You have survived a [Mana Cascade]! For achieving this feat under the Aspect [Naked Survival], the Aspect has increased in rank to become [Naked Affinity]!
She dimly remembered seeing that particular message right before she passed out, but dwelling on it caused her mind to instantly recoil from the memory. The next notifications were far more welcome, if still a mildly disturbing reminder of her continued lack of clothing.
You have stayed an entire night alone in the Wildlands and have lived to see the dawn! For accomplishing this feat under the Aspect [Naked Affinity], the experience awarded for this achievement has been doubled!
+1000 Experience gained.
You have reached Level 7! Health and Status partially restored!
For reaching this milestone while [Naked] and [Unequipped], rewarded points doubled.
10 distributable Stat Points awarded.
10 Skill Points awarded.
You have reached Level 8! Health and Status partially restored!
For reaching this milestone while [Naked] and [Unequipped], rewarded points doubled.
10 distributable Stat Points awarded.
10 Skill Points awarded.
Due to extremely high levels of ambient Mana combined with other local conditions, a [Cleansing Scrubby] has gained sentience and Awakened as a new species! As the previous owner, <unnamed> [Cleansing Scrubby(Slime Species Variant, Originator)] has imprinted itself upon you. Would you like to claim it as your pet and give it a name?
Reading the last message was enough to startle Morgan right out of her dazed frame of mind. Sputtering, she jumped to her feet while she twisted around looking for the scrubby loofah she had totally forgotten about when she woke up. Said scrubby was currently several feet above the level of her head, somehow clinging to the side of one of the vertical branches that led up into the tree’s canopy. And it was moving.
“What in the hell?” Morgan blurted. The pale purple lace puffball was slowly churning itself back and forth as it crept along the tree trunk eating into the soot and seared churple jelly splattered all over the place. The path left behind by the scrubby was perfectly clean tree bark. As it twisted itself back and forth like a washing machine cycle, it seemed to exude a soap-like foam and draw it back in as it got dirty with soot and churple juice. Seeing the clean path it left in its wake, Morgan looked down at herself and realized how clean she was. It cleaned me in my sleep!? Even her hair was clean and shiny, with a healthy silken sheen. Looking back up at the loofah, she thought I don’t know if I should be happy about that or totally disturbed…
As if it could sense her attention, the scrubby suddenly dropped itself down from the tree-trunk and slowly rolled over to rest just in front of her feet. She started backwards a half-step and then made up her mind. “Screw it,” she said as she picked up the plucky little creature. “I shall call you Lulu the Loofah!” As if naming the thing out loud was some sort of signal or trigger, another notification popped into Morgan’s mind, along with Lulu’s own status information.
You have claimed Lulu the [Cleansing Scrubby] as your bonded pet! The pet bond allows you to view the status information of any of your pets. Bonded pets will always find their way back to you if separated!
Pets level up on their own over time, in addition to gaining a percentage of experience you earn on your adventures together!
Status Information for: Lulu
Species: Cleansing Scrubby. Distantly related to Slimes and Oozes. Originator of its species.
Level: 1
Stat Details not viewable except by owners specialized in Pet based or Tamer type Classes
Skills
[Cleansing Scrub]
[Foaming Wash]
[Absorb Grime]
[Exfoliate]
[Moisturize]
[Rejuvenating Rinse]
“Originator, huh? So you’re the first of your kind?” Morgan said to the little scrubby. It gave no indication that it understood what she said. The laceball simply sat contentedly in her hands. Before its vivification, the scrubby had simply been a balled up wad of puffy synthetic lace with a string knotted around its center. It wriggled in protest in her hands as she squished it in different directions. The once ivory-colored lace fronds were still pale on the outside, but deepened to a violet that was closer to the color given off by Morgan’s [Mana Pulse] spell the previous night. Where the center knot of string used to be was now a spherical crystal structure vaguely resembling a sieve, with the fibers of the lace weaving in and out of the openings. The core glittered in dim shades of purple. Lulu the Loofah suddenly had enough of being handled so roughly, and with a grace Morgan was not expecting it hopped out of her hands up to her shoulder and sat there. She gave it a pat and it responded with a faint burbling purr.
“Absolutely lethal levels of cute!” She giggled at her new sidekick. It felt good for her to have something she could still laugh about in her present circumstances. As Morgan’s thoughts returned to the present, she sighed and mentally pulled up her own status information. There was a lot that she had not been able to spare any attention to while she was simply trying to survive the previous night.
Status Information for: Morgan Mackenzie
Level - 8
Primary Class: [Locked]
Secondary Class: [Locked]
Health - 153/170
Stamina - 202/224
Mana - 112/112
STR - 11
AGI - 11
CON - 15
VIT - 28
INT - 14
Stat points available to distribute: 20
Current Skills:
[Naked Instinct]
[Naked Recovery(Lvl 7)]
[Naked Camouflage]
[Naked Resilience]
-[Pain Resistance(Lvl 9)]
-[Heat Resistance(Lvl 7)]
-[Mana Resistance(Lvl 10/Mastered)]
[Naked Magic]
-[Mana Pulse(Lvl 10/Mastered)]
-[Spell Channeling(Lvl 4)]
-[Mana Affinity(Lvl 6)]
Skill Points available: 20
Titles, Mantles, and Aspects
[Worldwalker(Title)] - You have travelled through the void between the many worlds! Every world is different, each with its own gifts and dangers. To help you survive strange new places you gain a slight boost to health and an increased ability to learn new things! (+50 to Health, +50% increased gains to Skill Experience)
[Blessed of the Guardian Tree(Title)] - Through an offering of the blood of your enemies you have reawakened the ancient tree! You need never fear its hungry roots! Future offerings or actions that benefit the tree may enhance this Title!
[Naked Affinity(Aspect)] - Experience gained and points rewarded are doubled while you are [Naked] and [Unequipped]. Base recovery rate of all resource pools are increased. [Naked] variants of skills and abilities enhanced. Rate of skill and ability improvement greatly enhanced. While items or clothing are equipped, this Aspect’s effects are disabled and [Naked] skills and abilities are locked.
“So…” Morgan read through the new information two more times to make sure she understood what it meant. “I don’t know how much better these naked skills are compared to other ones.”
She stood there a moment to consider the new information. She simply had not been able to take the time to think about it during the gauntlet that was the previous night. “So, I’ve got some magic, but only so long as I don’t have clothes on.” she quipped to her purring shoulder passenger. “At least I think. I don’t have anything like clothes for me to even try to test it with right now. At least this place is warm...”
Morgan knew that she was focusing on everything she could to delay the inevitable. She knew something was wrong with her body, but she was afraid to look with the [Naked Recovery] skill. The memory of burning was simply too vivid. She could tell without delving too deeply that she was in no immediate danger from it, but trying to look closer sent her mind reeling back into the flames. Her health and stamina had ticked back up to full just in the time since she’d been awake. Her mana had already been full when she awoke. Understandable, as far as Morgan could understand anything about this world. She had not been able to sense her mana for very long before she ate the fruit, but to her mind the magic felt different than it did before. More volatile, as if it were already straining to be used, or released.
“Well,” she said to the scrubby on her shoulder. “Naked or not, I need to get out of this tree and find water.”
Morgan took a few minutes to very carefully spend her latest points on her stats. She had no intention of repeating the rollercoaster of sudden changes to her body from the previous day.
Ignoring vitality as it was the highest attribute by far, she split the twenty points evenly between the other stats. In between each spent point, she took the time to look at available skills in the hopes that something would be useful for getting safely down to the ground.
Skill Acquisition Menu:
[Naked Athleticism(Passive)] - [5 Skill Points] Due to earning the Aspect [Naked Affinity], the skill [Athleticism] has been modified and purchase cost reduced by 50%. Movement is often the key to survival! This skill improves your basic ability to do physical things, decreasing the Stamina cost of physical skills. The [Naked] version of this skill shares synergy with [Naked Resilience], further increasing your endurance performing physical tasks and improving your body’s efficiency at storing and using its internal reserves.
[The Naked Eye(Channeled)] - [10 Skill Points] Due to earning the Aspect [Naked Affinity], the skill [Eagle Eye] has been modified and purchase cost reduced by 50%. You can’t hit what you can’t see! While active, this skill enhances your visual acuity, allowing you to see with much greater clarity things both far away and very close. The [Naked] version of this skill shares synergy with the skill [Naked Instinct], passively improving your ability to see in all conditions except total darkness at all times.
[Naked Elementalism(Passive)] - [10 Skill Points] Due to earning the Aspect [Naked Affinity], the skill [Basic Elementalism] has been modified and purchase cost reduced by 50%. Magic is more than simple primal force! This skill allows you to sense and manipulate magic at a deeper level, separating mana into its fundamental elements and gaining affinities for different magics over time. The [Naked] version of this skill allows you to draw out the elements without the need for assistance from [Items] or [Equipment] to focus your will. Shares synergy with [Naked Magic] to enhance your ability to develop affinities with individual elements.
[Natural Traps(Passive)] - [15 Skill Points] Sometimes the environment can be altered to do the work for you! This skill provides increased dexterity and enhances your ability to assemble basic types of traps such as deadfalls, pits, and snares.
Morgan read through several of the skills at the top of the list. Further down skills were greyed out with [Locked - Conditions not met.] in place of a description. None that she could see seemed to have anything to do with climbing. She had even held a faint hope for something that could help her fly, and was a bit disappointed. The skill that seemed most likely to help with her climbing down from the tree was [Naked Athleticism]. The last one made her snort. “I don’t need a skill to build a deadfall or dig a hole, what a waste!” Lulu the Loofah trilled a burbling response from her shoulder that Morgan chose to take as agreement. “But [Naked Athleticism] looks useful for climbing out of this tree.”
Stepping back to the middle of the treetop hollow, Morgan braced herself for any unpleasant side effects and spent the five points on the [Naked Athleticism]. She’d been prepared for horrible pain or a full body seizure, but all that happened was a short spasm of shivering that was over almost as quickly as it began. The changes were barely noticeable. Her muscles were slightly more toned, if anything. She had felt more noticeable changes when she had spent points on her Agility, and that had been the least intrusive of her changes so far.
“Well that was anticlimactic...” she mused out loud, “but I’m not complaining.” Morgan hopped up and down a few times, provoking disgruntled burbling from Lulu sitting on her shoulder. “I don’t feel any different. It probably affects endurance and other shit like that, and my only stamina based ability is the healing one…”
Having the little scrubby to talk to was definitely working as a coping mechanism. Being so vulnerable and alone in this new place, and naked on top of that, would definitely have made short work of her sanity. Of course I could be hallucinating all of this. Might have hit my head on the tub and this is some sort of coma dream, she thought to herself. But if magic is real here, it can’t be all bad.
“Well that one wasn’t so horrible.” she said as she plucked Lulu off her shoulder and held it up in front of her face. “My other two choices are a skill for magic and a skill for eyesight, Lulu. I’ve never needed glasses or contacts, and it seems this world has magic. I want it. So magic it is.” She stuck the scrubby against one of the tree branches and it clung to it like a sticky magnet on a fridge door. The continuous burbling purr emanating from the thing wasn’t even interrupted by the action. “I don’t know what will happen, so just wait there little buddy.”
Stepping back to the center of the tree-top hollow, she spent the points to acquire [Naked Elementalism]. She had been mentally preparing herself for some sort of agony, but it was more like a mental click. She didn’t feel any different at all. “It must be something that I’ll figure out as I cast more spells then,” Morgan said out loud. “I’m just happy not to be seizing up again, or worse.” She shuddered involuntarily as memories of burning from the inside threatened to smash their way out of the little mental box she had been keeping them in. She knew she would have to deal with it sooner or later, but for now her focus was on getting out of the tree and finding water.
Morgan took a few minutes to look out from her rather high vantage point. The foliage of the canopy had been burned away directly above her, but already new shoots and leaves were beginning to fill in the gap. The early morning sun provided a view that was breathtaking even with her somewhat dire situation. In the far distance to the east she could just barely make out a gap in the trees that shimmered in the glaring sunlight. Hoping that would be water, she picked that direction.
"Now just to get myself out of this tree." A trilling protest emanated from Lulu, and Morgan held out her hand to let the scrubby make its way back to her shoulder. "Don't you purble at me! That means you too!" Instead of puffling its way up her arm like she expected, it let go of the tree limb and tumbled down past her feet, then slowly started working its way down the outside of the main trunk. Morgan simply stared as it made its way down towards the ground, leaving a trail of clean and moisturized tree bark in its wake.
“You cheeky little puffball!” she shouted after it. The scrubby was faster than she thought it would be just going by how it looked. Morgan stared down the trunk of the tree as the scrubby repeatedly dropped several feet at a time before catching itself. She intended a much slower and more careful descent. The tree trunk was far too large for her to try to hug it with her arms. The main trunk seemed to be as big around as a small house near its base. The outer bark had plenty of cracks and craggy formations that looked like they’d provide hand and foot-holds for grip, but she knew it would not be pleasant without gloves or shoes. On the other hand, she had absolutely no intention of waiting around til thirst drove her to try to eat another churple. “Once in a lifetime was enough…” she muttered.
Turning around, she tentatively began lowering herself one hand-hold at a time, much more slowly than the precocious Lulu had traversed the distance. The going was much easier than she expected, and the benefits of her increased Agility and Strength attributes were readily apparent. The annoying part of it was how the bark dug into her hands and feet, and that was more bearable than the scraping against her breasts and belly and thighs as she hugged herself close to the trunk. Her idea of exercise had always been yoga or pilates in comfy sweats and a top, not running around the woods naked like some sort of heathen. “At least it’s not cold here,” she stated as the morning sun warmed her legs and backside. I’m so glad I never had too much trouble with heights, she thought to herself. Without proper tools she could only guess, but she figured it was at least four hundred feet from where she had spent the night and the ground below. The outer bark she was climbing down felt strong and had a rubbery kind of give to it. While the surface was dry and rough, less than an inch would crumble away under her fingers and toes before she found solid purchase.
As Morgan neared the halfway point the climb became quite a bit easier. The gaps in the bark became larger, and the twists in the tree’s growth provided large bulges and outcroppings she could stand on without having her feet assaulted by pokey twigs and broken pieces of wood. She already had dozens of splinters she was going to have to dig out somehow. Her hair was almost a lost cause, as it had draped across or been pulled through what Morgan thought had to be every single patch of sap or crumbling bark shards she had passed near.
Less than a hundred feet from the ground she stopped on a bulging outcropping that was large enough she could have laid down on it. She felt slightly tired from the exertion, but when she looked back up towards the canopy she realized just how far she had made it. “I guess naked athleticism and spending points on stats is already paying off.” she mused. Morgan was not even winded at this point. “But I need to find water, and then I need a bath. Speaking of baths…”
Looking around for her pet scrubby, she spotted Lulu and jumped back up in alarm. The puffball was making its way back up one of the larger roots, seemingly creeping for its life as it fled from wiggling root tendrils that were inching their way along after it. Without thinking Morgan held out her hand and sent a [Mana Pulse] at the roots chasing her only friend. Or tried to, at least. The actual result was a baseball sized sphere of purple lightning that shot from her hand with a sizzling sound and impacted a dozen feet behind the scrubby an instant later with a WHUMP as nearly a third of her mana left her in an instant.
Dirt, splintered shards of wooden root, singed leaves and one rather angrily trilling scrubby didn’t quite make it as high as Morgan’s current perch. Lulu hit the side of the tree less than a dozen yards below her, and began working her way back towards Morgan with bubbly sounds that certainly sounded like they had taken a scolding tone. As the scrubby made its way up her leg and back to her shoulder with a whuffing burble, Morgan gave it an apologetic pat and dismissed the silver message that had popped up:
You have learned the Spell [Lightning Bolt]! Condense mana energy into a charged plasma and fire it at your enemies! Practice and experience will help you focus and control the bolt for increased power and efficiency!
Morgan stood there for a few moments trying to remember exactly how she had formed the new spell. She had acted on instinct, and the magic had simply worked. Her arm still tingled and her fingertips were numb, although that was slowly fading. Her mana was replenishing at what seemed to be several points per minute. She had no idea if that was normal, but she got the impression that it was not and that her aspected skills and bonuses had a lot to do with it. “I’m sorry I almost hit you Lulu, but you gotta admit, that was cool wasn’t it?” Morgan was petting the very irritated loofah and pointing at the crater with her other hand. “I have a spell that hits like a truck!” she giggled. As her mana inched closer to full, she held her hand up and sent two more bolts out into the air. Shunting that much mana through her hand that quickly left her feeling like she’d been sitting on it for hours, and she shook her arm about as the pins and needles feeling almost approached pain. The bolts of purple lightning had zipped out without arching back towards the ground, and fizzled out just over a hundred yards away. “So gravity doesn’t affect it, but I’m no long range sniper-girl.” she said, petting Lulu again. “Now lets see if the tree’s blessing really does keep those roots away from me.”
With her lacey friend securely perched on her shoulder, Morgan resumed her descent. She covered the remaining distance to the ground well before the sun reached its noonday zenith. At the bottom, she stood on one of the larger main roots before slowly stepping down to the loamy dirt. “No creepy root tentacles after me, that’s good.” Off to her right she saw her bathtub sitting upon a pile of white bones. The roots had completely cleaned the giant birds of all their flesh, leaving gleaming pale white skeletons partially crushed under the old clawfoot tub. As Morgan padded her way carefully over, the roots withdrew ahead of her. “We can’t exactly carry it with us, I guess,” she said to Lulu. “But I hate just leaving it here. The porcelain finish isn’t even cracked!” Stepping around a gleaming wing-bone she reached out and gave the tub a push. She had barely been able to nudge the thing when it was still in her apartment. Her increased STR attribute proved its effectiveness as she was now able to move it, if only just barely. With some very unlady-like grunts and a lot of effort, she managed to lift the end of the tub closest to her and sort of crab walk it backwards away from the bones. She walked it back up towards the trunk of the tree and then switched ends to push it to a vertical position and lean it back into a crook in one of the big roots. As it thudded over she fell back. That actually made me tired, she thought as she panted for breath. It had consumed some of her Stamina as well. Barely a tenth, but she still felt it.
Lulu had moved from her shoulder to the top of her head as she worked, and while Morgan sat on the larger of the exposed roots for a short break the scrubby began happily making purbling sounds while it worked its way through her hair. It only took a few minutes and all the debris and sticky sap was consumed, leaving her hair shiny and lustrous. The purr like vibrations across her scalp hadn’t felt bad either. After the scrubby worked its way down her arm to her hand it somehow scrubbed the splinters out of her palm.
“Oh you are just NIFTY!!!” she exclaimed excitedly. She propped one foot on her knee and waggled her toes as she held the scrubby to it. Lulu happily glomped onto her foot for a few minutes and took care of the ones stuck in the creases between her toes. “It’s like having a bath and a nurse all in one poofy ball of cute!” Morgan said as she gave the loofah a quick hug before plopping it back onto her shoulder. The trilling burble it gave off seemed to express its willingness to be her lacey bath ball. “One day we’ll come back for this tub. It was the whole reason I kept that apartment instead of finding one closer to school.” she told the scrubby. “But first we need to figure this place out, and get stronger. Maybe I’ll figure out a way to fly with magic someday!”
With her mood vastly improved now that she was on the ground, Morgan set out towards the east. She made her way into the Wildlands with a spring in her step and a friend on her shoulder, and stubbornly refused to look at what her [Naked Recovery] skill kept trying to show her about the churple-flavored mana that had been crystallized inside her bones.
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 5: Climb Down",
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Morgan Mackenzie was fighting for her life, and enjoying every glorious moment of it. The magic she wielded was vibrant in a way she didn't - or couldn't - notice before. In her blood, in her bones and in her mind, it hummed. It was utterly intoxicating, a feeling of near invincibility. Her magic seemed to plead to be used, the Mana that sang in her blood responding to her will like a custom-built sports car designed for her and her alone.
Now that the hydra was closer, she could tell that it was not, in fact, tasty at all. The vast majority of its body gave off a sort of ick-flavored feeling under her gaze, like smelling sewage with her eyes. It was covered in slimy iridescent scales of an utterly disgusting shade of green. Protrusions of thick, bony shell guarded the spot where the scaly necks sprouted like a clump of twisted roots.
The heads looked like an abominable cross between a snapping turtle and a crocodile: narrow, ridged beaks filled with vicious, uneven, ugly teeth that gnashed together as the heads hissed and spat in response to her repeated casts of [Lightning Bolt]. The only part of the creature that did, in fact, seem tasty were a small pocket of bluish glowing tendrils that wriggled about under the gill-like flaps behind the jaws of each head, and that was only because Morgan's [Primal Instinct] told her they were. Morgan herself had no interest in eating anything even remotely resembling tentacles. Not unless I’m starving, at least…
All of her magic and skills felt smoother and more cooperative with her will, no longer jittery and difficult to grasp. Before her Class Selection, the spells had been almost wild, with Fire or Lightning literally burning their way out of her flesh when she released them. Now, the Mana seemed to flow nearly unhindered, harmlessly leaving her body with merely the thought to direct it
Lulu remained glommed tightly onto her shoulder as Morgan activated [Acceleration] and darted between two striking heads to fire a [Spell Surge]-empowered [Lightning Bolt] into the creature’s chest. The magical beast’s raw power with Water made her Fire spells sputteringly ineffective under the localized storm, but she could still temporarily stun it with a good shock of lightning.
The serpentine necks twitched and jerked as Morgan danced back out of range, hopping around and over the exfoliated skeletons scattered across the sands with a grace aided by her [Primal Instinct] and [Athleticism]. Her basic spells had done no lasting damage at all as far as the young sorceress could discern. Even intoxicated by the buzzing power thrumming in her Soul, she could understand that she would not be able to keep this pace indefinitely.
I need something more, she thought as she formed a [Wind Barrier] out of the Air above her to deflect an incoming wave of jagged hail and lightning. The frozen chunks of water bounced off the shield, but the impact of the hydra’s lightning spell sent her sprawling with her skin tingling from the static.
She sprang to her feet with a burst of [Acceleration] and kept it up long enough to put some distance between her and her foe, burning Stamina with [Regeneration] to recoup the spent Mana. Turning just outside the edge of the magical storm’s range, Morgan drew up Fire and Lightning Mana simultaneously.
It was similar to how she had twisted the Fire Mana before losing control of it back in her temporary Earth shelter, but this time she blended two Elements together for the spell. It took effort, but thanks to her new Class and the improved abilities to manipulate the Mana, she managed to keep it from exploding in her face. Vivid purple flames swirled between her hands, crackling furiously with the charged Lightning Mana inside the spinning Fire.
The more Fire and Lightning she squeezed into the spinning ball, the more of her Mana it cost to keep it contained. The two elements did not seem to like being forced together so roughly, but Morgan did not have time to experiment slowly. As the hydra closed once again to within thirty paces, she activated [Spell Surge] and thrust her hands out towards the monster while she shoved the roiling mass forward with her mind.
You have learned the spell [Plasma Glaive]! Annihilate your enemies with a burning spear of Lightning and Flame!
The notification was all she could see for several moments, as the spell had been so bright that it blinded her temporarily. The young sorceress was also convinced she was deafened as well, until she realized she was no longer hearing the hydra’s thunderstorm only because it was no longer there. Neither were, she noticed after blinking her vision back, two of the monster’s heads.
The beast itself stood frozen, understandably even more shocked at this turn of events than Morgan herself was. The two rightmost heads ended in charred stumps, and seared bone and hide rippled back along the massive emerald shoulder. Pieces of green meat and glimmering shards of scales were still falling to the ground with wet thumps and splattering sounds as she and the hydra both stood stunned.
“Whoa,” she blurted out as Lulu gave appreciative wurbles from her shoulder. The new spell had been far more impressively destructive than she could have hoped for, and losing two heads had definitely hurt the hydra. It heaved its grotesquely muscled body up as high as its stumpy, thick-set front legs could lift it, while its remaining heads writhed and hissed and shuddered about like angry snakes.
Morgan stared for several heartbeats, the expenditure of almost half of her Mana at once leaving her light-headed and swaying on her feet. So disorienting was the effect that even with [Primal Instinct] screaming at her, she did not manage to move in time to evade the hydra’s response.
With a disgustingly wet herk that was almost enough on its own to make Morgan retch in sympathy, all five of the remaining heads shuddered in unison, the massive body heaving. The naked sorceress and the immediate surrounding area for a dozen yards in every direction promptly received a prodigious coating of caustic reptilian vomit and partially-digested flesh and bones.
Morgan did not even have time to verbalize her own horrified disgust before her body’s reflexes expurgated her recently-consumed roasted eel and river-water, adding a much smaller, but still disgustingly aromatic contribution to the mess. It was only after she staggered upright once again that she realized how badly the hydra’s vomit was stinging her skin. Lulu quickly cleaned off her face but it covered everything else. The next thing she noticed was the fact that within all that stinking, slimy, sticky mess -- things were moving.
“Nope, nope, nope!” screamed Morgan as she turned and ran, setting herself on fire to cleanse the filth from her skin as fast as possible. The heady, buzzing high she had been experiencing as she had reveled in the ease and power of her new Class and its magics was now completely gone. In its place was shaky whispers of fear and self-recrimination.
On she ran towards the looming cliffs to the north, not slowing until she could no longer hear the rumbling storm that had re-appeared above the hydra. Letting the purifying flames fade away, she slowed to a walk as she brushed the soot and ash from herself as well as she could. Lulu, thankfully immune to her fire, proceeded to deal with the rest in her singularly scrubby fashion.
“I don’t pick fights, Lulu! What the hell was wrong with me?”
The diminutive puffball gave no answer save its constant purble of contentment as it dealt with all things icky on its mistress’ body. “It was like the magic was making me high or something. I was definitely power trippin’ on the class thing!”
Morgan’s heart was still pounding, but the buzzing hum of her magic had been dampened by the shock of the vomit and her panicked flight. “Stupid! So freakin’ stupid!” She stomped her foot in frustration but the effect was nowhere near satisfying with her bare sole on the soft dirt.
“God, I miss boots already!” she complained, punctuating her declaration with an annoyed growl.
She gave Lulu several gentle pats in appreciation after the loofah finished its ministrations and returned to her shoulder. Getting covered in vomit had not been part of her plans for the day. Or any day, for that matter. But it had come with the benefit of two new skills; [Corrosion Resistance] and [Toxin Resistance]. “Still, not how I would have planned to get those skills. Yuck!”
Muttering to herself, Morgan continued along towards the distant, looming cliffs. She still wanted to find a high place so she could get a better reading on the local area, hoping to spot signs of civilization or people. Another small stream presented the opportunity to rinse the taste of her own vomit out of her mouth, and after a quick double-check of her surroundings she sat on a soft mossy patch next to the creek to think.
Several sips and spits from a globule of floating water later, she felt much better. Her eyes drifted up to the high clifftops, where the day’s sunlight was finally burning most of the obscuring mists away. “I’m not sure how far away those cliffs really are, Lulu, but that looks like it has to be almost a mile from bottom to top, if not more…”
The scrubby’s only response was a snoozy and low purble as it drooped on her shoulder. “Poor lil’ thing,” she said as she gave it another gentle pat. “Must be exhausted from defending me and spawning all those terrifyingly cute hordes of babies.”
With her mind now much calmer and her body at least somewhat rested, Morgan carefully got to her feet while making sure not to jostle her sleepy loofah passenger. The [Primal Instinct] skill was not warning her of danger, nor urging her towards or away from anything else that she could tell. But there was something different about this section of the forest.
It took her several long moments of staring before it finally fell into place. The small stream she had sat next to ran in an almost perfectly straight line along a section of furrowed earth that looked like it was chopped out by a massive blade. “Nature doesn’t usually work with straight lines,” she murmured to herself quietly. One bank of the stream was raised higher than the other, a clear delineation aside from some crumbled sections and places where tree roots had pushed out the bank. The unnatural formation was obvious, now that she knew to look.
The raised ground stood merely a half a pace higher than her side of the stream, and she cleared the distance to the other side with a nimble hop as she continued carefully through the forest. Now that she knew to look, other things stood out as she meandered through the trees. Toppled boles marked gaps in the canopy above, smaller trees fighting for dominance in the places where the sunlight shone through in full.
There were sections of rippled earth formations, as if a giant had shaken a rug and let it fall in a folded messy clump, sometimes with trees growing sideways out of the leaning dirt before bending back towards the sky. As she continued on her path, scattered boulders began to appear. It seemed as if a titanic battle had been fought, and she were walking through the battlefield decades later The area felt as somber and quiet as the grave, the sounds of wildlife dying away the further she advanced.
Half a hundred paces further in, as the signs of old destruction and mayhem became far more pronounced, she stumbled. Vibrant moss and lichen covered the ground, so she had no visual clues to warn her. As she took another step she felt her Mana snap with a jolt, down her leg and into something under the layer of moss.
“Fuck!” she screamed, as she fell over with her leg numb and half of her Mana instantly gone. The tumble dislodged a protesting scrubby as she landed unceremoniously on the ground in confusion. “What the hell was that?!”
She sat there for over a minute, flexing her leg and rubbing her foot, trying to get the feeling back. Sitting up, she noticed that the mossy patch she had stepped on was now glowing with a soft pale light from underneath. With a lot of frustration and a good measure of anger, she wrenched at the dirt underneath the moss with her Earth Mana.
What sprang up from the dirt was equal parts beautiful and astonishing; a lumpy crystal the size of her fist, glowing with Mana. Her Mana, to be specific. She could feel it floating there less than two feet away, and almost without thought she reached out with her will to pull on the Mana within the crystal. It flowed back into her as easily and smoothly as breathing, all but for a trace that remained inside, keeping the object afloat.
“Whoa… It’s a literal Mana Crystal, Lulu!”
The scrubby ceased its wurbling protests at being so rudely awoken in the fall, and hopped up to land on the floating crystal chunk while emanating curious purring tones. The puffball’s adhesive abilities never ceased to amaze Morgan as Lulu treated the sides and bottom of the crystal just like the top, sticking to it without fail as the scrubby cleaned and polished this new shiny thing that its mistress had found.
It was not the only one in the area, either: with her Mana in the crystal, she could feel soft pulses, like sonar pings, scattered through the thinning forest ahead. Like a thousand heartbeats, they sat with a low hum in her perception through the crystal suspended before her. And like an echo, her own bones and blood pulsed a syncopated counter in time with the beats.
With a wave of power from [Spell Surge] and unable to help gesturing along with the thought, Morgan heaved with her magic as she got her arms under an invisible load and raised up. For hundreds of yards ahead of her and to either side, scattered throughout the silent battleground, thousands of brightly glowing crystals burst forth from under the dirt and moss and leaves.
The effort drained her Mana rapidly; the crystals each pulled in an individual trickle as they floated and flashed in multi-colored strobes of stark light that overpowered the daytime sun. An unexpected reward followed the effort, however, as a notification appeared just before her Mana drained completely.
You have gained the skill [Crystal Affinity]!
She dropped back to the ground with an exhausted thwump, her breathing labored as though she’d just finished a sprint. The shards of crystal fell immediately after, a soft pattering rain of thumping and tumbling pieces that took a few moments to settle into stillness. The only sound for several minutes was Morgan’s own panting breaths as she recovered from the total drain of her magic.
“Holy shit…”
Using the closest tree, she levered herself back to her feet after the worst of the woozy feeling had passed. From what little she could infer with the limited sense she had felt from the crystals through her mana, their positions radiated from a central point. She headed in that direction, carefully picking her way through and around the glowing stones without touching any of them. The iridescent glow shone upwards to paint the underside of the canopy in rippling rainbows of living light, which she couldn’t help but admire.
“You couldn’t pay to see something like this on Earth, Lulu,” she said in a hushed whisper. The closer she got to the center, the more pronounced the evidence of old destruction became. The tree cover was thinner and younger the farther in she went, the forest not yet having reclaimed this battlefield as its own.
Boulders, and pieces of rock that must have at one time been boulders before being shattered by massive impacts, lay tumbled about amongst mossy humps that must have at one time been trees, knocked over and long since rotted away
“It wasn’t a meteor strike,” she whispered to herself. “That would have blown trees out in the same direction, unless I’m remembering physics wrong.” The rocky formations had grown larger as she walked, and as she stepped around a titanic stone slab jutting upwards from the dirt, she saw what could only be massive claw marks gouged into the granite itself. Nope, not a meteor, she thought.
Her instincts submitted to the tranquil atmosphere, and talking out loud seemed almost wrong somehow. Whatever had happened in this place seemed to demand a reverence and respect like the quiet blanket of stilled air that reminded her of approaching a monument.
Or a grave…
As Morgan approached the center, the crystals grew steadily larger and more uniform in shape. Massive glass-like blades and needle-thin spikes longer than her arms lay chipped and broken, sometimes half-buried in the larger rocks. Finally, after picking her way through one last extremely dense section of tumbled stone and crystal, she reached the center.
Piled in a mound over twice as tall as the young sorceress were the bones of a massive creature, with the skull topping the pile like some sort of totem or warning. It was difficult to make out the original shape of the skull due to the obvious damage, but enough was left that Morgan could make out the general shape of what once must have been a terrifying creature.
The skull itself was taller than her, with a single front-facing opening that must have once housed an eye the size of a large beach ball. Above the empty socket, two stubby protrusions that looked like they had once been the base for a pair of horns sat broken off, the bone jagged with fractures and cracks that spread out across the rest of the skull. An intact third horn extended from the elongated snout halfway between the ocular cavity and the mostly destroyed sinus opening. The two upper horns lay at the foot of the pile as if dropped and forgotten.
The rest of the bones were piled under the skull, oversized scapulae like broad-bladed shovels atop tumbled vertebrae and sharply-edged sections of snapped ribs. A huge femur, easily as long as Morgan was tall, leaned against the pile, studded with fragments of broken mana crystals as if something made of the magic mineral had chewed on the bone.
“Lulu,” she whispered in quiet awe, “If things like this and whatever killed it live in this world, I really can’t pick fights like I did with the hydra…”
The scrubby gave no response, huddling quietly in the crook of her shoulder and neck. The afternoon sun finally passed over the edge of the looming cliffs to sink the creature’s resting place in gloomy shadow, dimly lit by the rainbow glow of thousands of crystals. Now reminded of her destination, Morgan quickly but quietly made her way past the bones. The entire empty battlefield was a place she was now eager to put behind her, driven forth by the fear inspired by the quiet grave.
Morgan resumed her trek for the cliffs in somber silence. She was finally coming to terms with the fact that, despite the game-like characteristics of this new and magical world, she was not safe -- and this was most definitely not a game.
|
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|
Lulu knew that something was terribly wrong.
Someone had stepped forwards from the friendly gathering around the mealtime campfire, and sent out a pulse that had pushed all but the strongest into unconsciousness.
The scrubby had only had the barest forewarning, and the man’s magic had a strange tang that she couldn’t identify -- oily, greasy, forceful, wrong -- and couldn’t counter. Lulu struggled to retain her consciousness.
She hung onto Morgan’s shoulder by instinct, her mind screaming Danger! andFight it! even as her body slipped closer and closer to sleep. Beneath her, she could feel her mistress swaying on her feet, and the situation suddenly seemed even more grim. Desperately, the scrubby tried to do something, anything, but could only muster a weak and sleepy purble.
Even her mind seemed to slow down, sinking towards sleep. The slick-feeling coils of magic grew more intense as the dangerous man stepped closer, and though Lulu itched to try cleaning him, she still found herself unable to do anything but watch. Chadwick batted her off her mistress’ shoulder with a casual flick of a hand. The scrubby flared with indignation at being treated so casually, but still couldn’t manage more than a quiet wurble in retaliation.
Things were going horribly, terribly, unequivocally wrong.
With neither skill nor natural grace to aid her, Lulu fell to the ground and rolled briefly before coming to a stop. As though from a great distance, she watched as the man who wielded oily magic reached up and placed something golden around Morgan’s neck. The feeling of forceful greasiness in the air multiplied a hundredfold as something went to work at her mistress, and for a moment, Lulu thought all hope was lost.
Then, Morgan’s purple skin markings flared with their usual glow, and hope returned. With it came a single word from her mistress’ lips.
Filth.
Lulu had lived alongside Morgan for many months now, and had experienced many messes. From icky and gross to disgusting and sticky and yuck and through to foul and slimy and even contaminated, the loyal scrubby had battled them all. Or at least, she thought she had.
Never before had an expression of dirtiness erupted from Morgan’s lips like a vulgar oath.
Never before had a mess caused such levels of disgusted outrage.
Never before had her mistress seemed so very, very angry.
The new monosyllabic term raced around Lulu’s mind, allowing her to fight off the impending urge to sleep just a little bit longer.
Filth.
Filth was clearly bad. Filth deserved to be destroyed. Filth needed to be cleaned.
Lulu struggled with her entire self. She tried to wriggle, to lather up, to do anything other than lie there and watch, but the man’s magic still held her fast. She could not act, and yet she had to.
As if born through her need, something appeared within the depths of the scrubby’s being. Something that felt like it could be an answer. Giving up on the efforts of attempting to move, as well as letting go of the desire to stay awake, Lulu’s mind sank like a rock, to the most primal part of herself, to latch on to the [Matriarch’s Decree].
Here, deep within her subconscious, the mother of all loofahs found the energy to act.
The powerful oily feeling in the air. The shine of the necklace. The helplessness of the ones who wore it. Mistress’ anger. The spoken word of filth. She compressed it all into a packet of memory and sensation and sent it through a tiny glimmering doorway she found behind her new skill. All would know of this new kind of mess, this new dirt.
Lulu still couldn’t move, but through that doorway, she was able to observe the effect of her action, as every scrubby in the Wildlands -- all her children, no matter how far removed from her -- heeded their matriarch. She felt an unfortunate few, those embroiled in battle, wiped out as their attention turned to her. The rest responded with affirmation, understanding her decree.
The scrubby matriarch was currently unable to do anything, but not all of her children were so affected. They could act.
There was filth in the world, and one way or another, it would be cleansed. For such an insult upon their existence, a scrubby could have only one answer: filth must be exfoliated.
Satisfied that her decree had been heard, Lulu finally succumbed to sleep, lulled by the sound of crackling flames.
|
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Morgan Mackenzie was having a very dreary day. By all that she could tell, it was only going to get worse. She had been startled awake not by notifications in her mind, but by ground-shaking thunderclaps and flashes of old-fashioned lightning from outside her magically excavated burrow. Her fire had gone out, and she had braved a very quick jaunt outside to handle a brief bathroom situation and gather some more firewood. She was currently sitting on her makeshift stone bed wringing her hair out while she poured mana into her fireplace [Candleflame Rune]. The closest wood had been the dead tree, and it was quite soggy from a night of heavy rains.
She was glad to have gone outside when she did. Before her firewood even began to dry the storm outside picked up again. The howling winds tore at the tops of the giant trees and swirled sprays of raindrops well into the sloped entrance to her cave. A mere handful of minutes outside had left her hair a matted mess, and Lulu was currently on top of her head working some sort of scrubby magic. Somehow the puffball was able to draw her hair up, untangle it, and leave it clean and silky, and Morgan was not complaining. “Lulu, we could be millionaires in a month by opening up a salon back home…”
Calling the rain a downpour was an extreme understatement. She was certainly glad for the decision to slope the cave entrance down and away, or she would have already been flooded out. With the weather curtailing any chance of exploring for the time being, Morgan set herself to practicing magic again.
Taking lessons she’d picked up from her delving into the Fire element, she drew up the water that had pooled up on the floor after wringing out her hair. Water was not as nebulous as Fire but not as firm as Earth. It took more effort to get it to change direction, but it happily kept moving once she got it going in a circle, and a few minutes of making it dance in different sized spirals and loops rewarded her with [Water Affinity].
Several dozen tries later, she succeeded in sending a compressed globule of teardrop-shaped water zipping across her tiny abode. It hit the far wall with enough force to turn the water to a misty spray, and the notification for the [Water Bolt] spell was enough to ratchet up her smug levels immensely.
Over an hour later her smugness was taking a beating as she still failed to make any progress with the Air Element. Forming a hardened or thicker layer of air was just about all she could manage, and while she thought there was potential for things like barriers or shields with that, no epiphanies or sudden spell rewards presented themselves. She gave up on it for the moment and went back to Lightning. She had acted on instinct the first time she used it, and gained the [Lightning Bolt] spell before any kind of affinity or experimentation with it.
Not wanting to risk hurting herself with an explosion in a confined space again, she settled for sending smaller bolts zipping out of the entrance to her cave. She always got burned by the lightning when it formed within the flesh of her hand, so she tried with mixed success to keep that from happening. With just the tiniest trickle of mana it was possible to form a spark just a hair’s breadth away from the tip of her finger.
“It just doesn’t want to stay in one place, Lulu!” she harrumphed in frustration. The scrubby had backed away to the far side of the burrow once she had started playing with Lightning again. It gave a rather bored warble in response and resumed scrubbling across the far wall. She returned to playing with the element, letting it arc back and forth between her hands. Finally, by keeping a swirl of Elemental Lightning flowing between her palms, she was able to hold a steady spark of violet incandescence without burning herself. The notification for [Lightning Affinity] was quick to follow, making it easier for her to sense exactly how the charge was flowing.
She bounced in excitement on her mossy bed, letting out a laugh of triumph as lightning arced between her hands. “Affinities make this so much easier!” The lapse in attention left her with singed and tingling hands, but that did not dampen her mood in the slightest. She was beginning to think this world may not be so bad after all, if she could just figure out the clothing issue and her Aspect. Satisfied with her newly learned Affinities, she set herself to actually testing out the [Naked Affinity] Aspect.
“How can I test my Aspect, Lulu?” she asked. The scrubby simply warbled at her softly and continued scrubbling its way across the wall. “I suppose I can make a piece of armor or jewelry with Earth magic. Does jewelry count against nakedness? Is it just clothes, or anything I try to wear?” She was rambling nervously because of the details of the enhanced Aspect, and so she shook her head and decided to get on with it.
“No time like the present, I guess!” she chirped at Lulu with more enthusiasm than she felt at the idea. “At least nothing’s trying to eat us, so better to get it over with now before that changes…”
Steeling her anxious nerves, Morgan drew up a small handful of stone with [Earth Sculpt] and shaped it into a simple hoop. It spun slowly in place, floating between her hands. She sat and simply looked at it with trepidation for several long moments. “How bad can it be, right Lulu?”
Before she could change her mind, she slipped her left hand through the loop of mana-softened stone and let it settle around her wrist. As she let the mana go it faded out of the stone, leaving it as hard and solid as natural rock. Almost instantly she felt a full body chill as if she had been dunked head-first into freezing water, followed by a complete panic as her stats and resource pools were cut nearly in half as fast as a guillotine dropping through her soul. It was worse than any nausea or sensation of dizzy sickness she had ever felt, and it left her weak and trembling as the notification slammed into her mind, followed by her altered status menu.
You have equipped a [Simple Stone Wristband]! One of your Aspects is incompatible with equipping items, and has been locked until a state of compatibility is restored!
Status Information for: Morgan Mackenzie
Level - 8
Primary Class: [Locked]
Secondary Class: [Locked]
Health - 130/130
Stamina - 144/144
Mana - 112/112
STR - 11
AGI - 11
CON - 10
VIT - 18
INT - 14
Stat points available to distribute: 0
Current Skills:
[Naked Instinct] - [Locked]
[Naked Recovery(Lvl 7)] - [Locked]
[Naked Camouflage] - [Locked]
[Naked Resilience] - [Locked]
-[Pain Resistance(Lvl 9)] - [Locked]
-[Heat Resistance(Lvl 8)] - [Locked]
-[Lightning Resistance] - [Locked]
-[Mana Resistance(Lvl 10/Mastered)] - [Locked]
[Naked Magic] - [Locked]
-[Mana Pulse(Lvl 10/Mastered)] - [Locked]
-[Spell Channeling(Lvl 5)] - [Locked]
-[Mana Affinity(Lvl 6)] - [Locked]
[Naked Elementalism] - [Locked]
-[Fire Affinity] - [Locked]
-[Water Affinity] - [Locked]
-[Lightning Affinity] - [Locked]
-[Earth Affinity(Lvl 2)] - [Locked]
-[Lightning Bolt] - [Locked]
-[Water Bolt] - [Locked]
-[Flame Bolt] - [Locked]
-[Candleflame] - [Locked]
-[Earth Sculpt(Lvl 4)] - [Locked]
-[Earth Wave] - [Locked]
[Runic Enchantment]
-[Candleflame Rune]
Skill Points available: 5
Titles, Mantles, and Aspects
[Worldwalker(Title)] - You have travelled through the void between the many worlds! Every world is different, each with its own gifts and dangers. To help you survive strange new places you gain a slight boost to health and an increased ability to learn new things! (+50 to Health, +50% increased gains to Skill Experience)
[Blessed of the Guardian Tree(Title)] - Through an offering of the blood of your enemies you have reawakened the ancient tree! You need never fear its hungry roots! Future offerings or actions that benefit the tree may enhance this Title!
[Naked Affinity(Aspect)] - Aspect Locked while items are equipped!
Morgan could barely move, flopping over onto the mossy mattress. Her pain resistance and [Naked Resilience] had been dulling the various discomforts and sensations of being naked in the wilderness, among other effects from her skills and magics. With her skills locked out, she was no longer subconsciously keeping everything her body was trying to tell her neatly partitioned away in an abstract form. Everything slamming back to the forefront of her mind left her reeling from the worst hangover she had ever experienced.
In less than two days Morgan had become rather well-adjusted to her newfound strength and agility and mental sharpness, all boosted by this strange world’s system of stats and skills. Having most of that ripped away, including the magic she had so eagerly embraced, left her feeling truly naked and vulnerable, and made even worse because she had finally felt like she was taking back some semblance of control over her life.
With a herculean effort of will she pushed herself back up to a sitting position. Her mind felt stuffed full of cotton. She could still feel her mana, but not in any sort of detail. She tried to push her mana back into the stone band but to no avail. It seemed like it wanted to obey her will, but the effort drained her mana as quickly as trying to catch water with her bare hands. Her skills and abilities were not gone, not exactly, but it was like sensing everything through a misty shower curtain that muffled sound and touch as well as sight. [Naked Recovery] and [Naked Camouflage] simply refused to activate when she concentrated. They were there, and they were still hers. She simply could not reach them in any effective way.
She pushed at the stone band on her wrist, trying to get it off, but she had made a terrible mistake. Letting the stone close so perfectly into a shape contoured to her arm had happened without her even thinking about it beforehand, it had simply felt natural as the magic had worked towards her basic intent to make a simple bracelet. It wasn’t exactly tight, but it also had no extra room or gap to slide back and forth. There was no hope of squeezing her hand back out of it, not with her thumb and most of her hand bones in the way. A worry formed in the back of her mind that she may just have to find a way to break or crush her own hand to get the damned thing off, which was an extremely scary prospect without her pain resistances. Knowing she could heal the damage later when she got her skills back was no comfort at all in the face of such prospective hurts, so she filed that idea away as a possible last resort.
“Lulu! HELP!”
Looking around in a panic, she finally spotted the scrubby headed back towards her from its previous location on the far wall. The puffball had wandered back over to investigate her distress. “Oh thank goodness…” Morgan had seen how the scrubby somehow ate or consumed the grit and grime whenever it cleaned things, and it had dissolved the splinters of bark and wood stuck in her hands and feet from climbing down the Tree the day before. “Can you dissolve the rock, Lulu?” she asked as she held the offending stone band out towards the loofah.
The scrubby glommed onto her outstretched hand with a plopping smack sound that would have been adorable in any other circumstance. She felt a tingle everywhere her skin was in contact with the loofah as its purring deepened to a pulsing rumble that was felt more than heard. “You know,” she said as she gave Lulu an encouraging pat with her free hand, “you’d be quite the scary little thing if you weren’t so damned cute…”
After several minutes the tingling sensation on her skin had developed into a stinging pain and a reddened welt as her scrubby pet tried to exfoliate the stone away. The loofah had wrapped completely around her wrist to encompass the stone band, but it could not get at the stone without also scrubbing away a portion of her skin as well. It was a sensation like fine grit sandpaper slowly but constantly rubbing away at her flesh, and she ground her teeth together with a grimace as she endured it.
When the skin around the stone band went from reddened to actual bleeding, Lulu hopped onto Morgan’s shoulder with an apologetic wurble. The blood made the bracelet a lot easier to slide across her skin, and she hissed as she tried to contort her hand enough to force it off, to no avail. Beating it against the edge of her stone couch resulted in nothing more than extremely painful bruising; the stone didn’t chip at all.
Morgan was growing more frantic by the minute. Her sudden changes in circumstances upon finding herself in a new world had been traumatic by any measure of the word, and she had latched onto the magics as much out of a desire to reassert control as she had for the coolness factor of it. After going through her many trials, losing her hard-earned gains, and so abruptly, was not pleasant at all. “Gotta get it off!” she huffed in frustration while she beat the bracelet against the stone. She had worked herself into such a frenzy that she had actually managed to chip the edge of her bed with the bracelet, and was pretty sure she was close to breaking bones in her hand.
Such was her mental state that she did not notice Lulu’s trilling warbles of alarm right in her ear until the dimly lit cave was plunged into deeper darkness around her. She turned, realizing they were no longer alone. Morgan had time to make out a massive shadowy form with frightening golden eyes before it was upon her, and then all she knew was teeth and snarling panic.
The close confines of the cave were what saved her. The massive thing simply did not have room to maneuver, and as it lunged forward Morgan dove headfirst off the bed, narrowly avoiding the teeth but failing to completely evade the claws. Ribbons of fiery pain tore down her left side and buttock as she rolled away, and the rusty tang of blood joined the stench of the beasts breath as it turned to follow. A ripping feline snarl like a wet chainsaw almost deafened Morgan as she pushed herself up with one hand on the sculpted stone fireplace. The fire had died away but she felt embers burning her hand as she swung the largest piece into her attacker’s face.
The dried deadwood burst apart on impact with its head, the sudden glare from the shower of sparks illuminating the form of a very large cat with exaggeratedly large tufted ears and a widened jaw profile. Another ripsaw snarl shook the tiny cave as those jaws opened unbelievably wide and the cat darted forward yet again. Morgan held up her arm and squeezed her eyes shut just as she saw Lulu hop straight into its mouth with a purbling war-cry, and the teeth slammed shut over both the brave little scrubby and Morgan’s bracelet bound arm, crushing the bones halfway between wrist and elbow.
Her arm was not severed. Morgan was not that lucky, and she was dragged along as the oversized cat thrashed back and forth, swinging her into the cave walls with thumps punctuated by her agonized screams. She was dizzy and close to fainting from blood loss, and only barely managing a few feeble kicks against the creature’s chest and body while she pummeled its nose with her other hand.
The cat finally managed to pin her down with one massive paw across her torso, extended claws raking her breasts and rib cage as it pushed her down and pulled up with its jaws. She felt a sickening tearing sensation and a pop as her shoulder dislocated and then one final gut-wrenching rip as her left arm gave way a few inches above the wrist.
And then her magic was back.
Naked condition restored! Aspect and associated skills no longer locked!
In an instant, [Naked Recovery] stemmed her bleeding wounds and began to scab over her foreshortened arm. With all her remaining mana and every ounce of willpower and rage she could muster, Morgan held her good hand towards her attacker and screamed “BURN!”
And the world around her obeyed.
|
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For once, Millie Thatcher rode on horseback, instead of on the back of Hett’s wagon. It had been nearly a month since the battle the soldiers had come to refer to as the Day of Thunder and Mud, and they were finally approaching the City of Prophets. There had been no more encounters since the day the Battlemaster moved a river to defeat the Deskren, but The General had not allowed the convoy to slow their pace. Millie, once stuck at her tenth level for weeks, had more than made up for lost time under the training and discipline Jacob Ward demanded. Her skills had improved as well, and she had gained several new cadences -- which the Worldwalker had immediately put to use.
[Double Time] was the standing order each morning after the breakfast meal when the column first started moving, with Millie tapping the beats and relentlessly driving everyone onwards. At first she could only sustain the skill for a half a bell, but within a fortnight, her stamina had vastly improved. Now, she kept the fast march going almost until noon before exhaustion and strain laid her low in Hett’s wagon. After the noontime meal and water, though, the Battlemaster had her march on the ground without her drum to build her own strength. It was good training, she had to admit; with only one arm, she couldn’t perform the same drills and exercises as the other soldiers, but Jacob refused to let her fall behind.
The civilians complained about the pace, of course. It had only taken a handful of days without pursuit before they began voicing their displeasure, but the Battlemaster and his troops had simply continued to march. The stragglers always caught up by dusk, fearful of being left behind. They had lagged behind the banners for the first half of every day, until finally they reached a massive bridge spanning a glimmering river. Hett had told her it was the famed River Swift, and that there was a Guild that used magically powered ships to travel between the Sea of Possibility and the Western Sea. That was what gave High Bridge its name: its bed and arches were set high on ornate stone columns to give ships plenty of room to pass underneath. Once the gleaming white stone of the top of the structure began to peek visibly above the horizon, the refugees had needed far less prodding to keep up with the march: knowing they were close to their destination had renewed their vigor.
The surviving former Gendarmes, while they had had no such trouble keeping the Battlemaster’s pace, suffered their own challenges: tensions between them and some of the convoy had been high enough that they were almost palpable. The nobles and more fearful refugees had been understandably shy about travelling with the very same terrifying enemy that had once hunted them so relentlessly. That fear had been eased somewhat when Jacob had divided the Luparan beastkin into smaller pack units to augment his own scouts. Most of them now ran as advance pickets alongside their lighter horse, and having less of them loping alongside the column made the rest of the caravan much less nervous.
The Beastfolk themselves had only a few discipline issues, falling into snarling fights for dominance within the first few days of being free from the collars. Millie had been afraid some of them would kill each other, but Hett and Jacob both reassured her that they were simply a different kind of people, and had to sort out things in a different kind of way. The Battlemaster let them sort out their own ranks, as long as they followed his orders. And follow they did, although several that Hett had called ‘alphas’ within her hearing did seem more aggressive than the others, especially towards their new human leader. Millie dreaded the eventual confrontation from that. She had seen Jacob Ward angry only the one time, and was not looking forward to seeing it again.
Normally, Millie rode on Hett’s wagon when she was not marching on foot. Now that they were approaching the city, however, Jacob had requested she ride in the lead wagon, along with himself, Miss Erin, and several others. Hett had protested leaving his wagon to the terrified teamster who had to dodge his mules to take the seat on the wagon to drive. The man grumbled quite loudly, but a stern glance had quieted the man to infrequent mumblings about saddles and jewels. What saddles had to do with jewels, or why he would be angry about that, she did not know -- and as she had no voice to ask Miss Erin or Lady Jenna to explain, she resolved to write it down the next time the two women were overseeing her handwriting practice. She had been born left-handed, and learning to write with her remaining hand was as frustrating as the fact that The General insisted she do it in the first place. I’m a Soldier, not a scribe, she had protested. But, Soldiers followed orders, and the order had been given. So it was that she swallowed her indignation and obediently copied her letters after every evening meal, while Lady Jenna or Miss Erin oversaw one of the camp children in cleaning her gauntlet and chain mail. That particular task had simply proven impossible with one arm, although the [Hand of Solace] assured her that the General would see to getting her a new one at the first opportunity. She longed for that day, albeit less for the prospects of cleaning armor and more for keeping up with her fellow Soldiers without feeling more like a mascot than a military professional.
Her musings were brought to a halt as they crested the highest point of the bridge, bringing the City of Prophets into view. Once, a fair while ago, she had travelled with her father and brothers to the city of South Hollows to sell grain and potatoes; she remembered thinking at the time that it was a large and wonderful city. When she looked at the vista before her, she realized how naive she had been; set against the brightly-decorated buildings stretching from the glimmering sea to the east and wrapping around gently sloping hills to the west, South Hollows may as well have been a dirt hovel. To the north, above the city, the Temple stood on the bluffs, overlooking both the waters and the section of the city with the largest buildings and paved streets. Millie focused on the far end of the bridge, where a man sat on horseback between the two far bridgetowers. He was waving a white cloth; clearly, the man they were to meet. Jacob raised his fist to call a halt over a dozen strides away from where the man sat, his own charger clopping forward a few more steps.
“Well met, Battlemaster,” he called, loud enough for all to hear, but not quite a shout. “I am Jargo, and the [Oracle] has witnessed your journey. She bids you welcome, and asks that you join her at the Gathering of Kings.”
“It would have been nice of her to send reinforcements while we were running,” Jacob Ward remarked neutrally.
Jargo shook his head. “She has no reinforcements to send; she does not rule, nor does she command. Her burden is to stand witness, save for the circumstances outlined in the Bargain of Kings. The price of knowledge is to be powerless to use it.”
The General sat silently on his horse for a long moment. “I have Soldiers sworn to my command. Will they be welcomed as well?”
Hett answered before Jargo could speak up, spitting off to the side of his own horse. “The Gathering of Kings is peacebound. No one will attack unprovoked, lest the [Oracle] yank the crowns from their heads and give their lands to their enemies.”
Millie could almost hear Jacob’s eyebrow raise. “So, not entirely powerless, is she?” he said.
“Not when people break the rules,” replied the grey-bearded old warrior. “Long as everyone plays nice, she can’t do a thing. We just have to make sure we all play nice.”
“I make no promises,” said Jacob, flicking the reins of his horse. “Lead on, Mister Jargo. The [Oracle] awaits.”
“As you desire, Battlemaster,” replied Jargo, turning his horse.
Thus did the Banner of the Black Lance march into the City of Prophets.
================================================
Rella stood next to Wyatt Reinholt, the Worldwalker who was not yet her Champion. It was not a thing she could demand, even if he were ready to be asked. Such a role could not be forced upon someone, and she would never have tolerated an unwilling protector in any case. Every future she had seen where she tried to impose the duty upon him had been disastrous, turning him against her personally, and by extension causing the Twins to dislike her severely. The possibilities as they stood seemed evenly split between him either becoming her Champion and not, and for the moment, she needed to be content with those odds.
What drove him was the desire to protect the Twins -- his sisters, Sophie and Sonya -- and he had followed when they joined the [Oracle] to receive training in their own divination talents. While younger even than Rella, they were perceptive and wise beyond their years, and had seen right through the fact that she barely knew any more than they did. In truth all three young women were learning more together than by her teaching the other two.
Today, however, was not a day for teaching. Rella, the Twins, and their ever-watchful protector stood on the dais in the center of the grand plaza outside the Temple of Remembrance. They were surrounded by more pageantry and pompous frivolity than had graced the City of Prophets in Rella’s entire lifetime, and it nearly made her sick. As perceptive as ever, Sonya spoke up when Rella’s own composure slipped.
“A sour stomach?” the girl asked. “This looks like one of those renaissance faires our mom liked to go to.”
“Yeah,” her sister interjected, wrinkling her nose, “but those didn’t smell like so much horse poop, and people actually took showers. This place smells like portapotties.” Sophie had proven of sharper tongue than her twin, although both could be acerbic to an alarming degree. “I get why rich people use so much incense in this world, now.”
“I would have thought you’d be used to it by now,” said Rella, grateful for the distraction so that she could turn away from the assembled nobility milling in the courtyard in order to rub at her right eye. She still wasn’t used to the itchy covering, but the eye she had gained in the dreamworld was very unsettling to look at, in addition to being hypersensitive to light. “And I take a bath at least twice a week!”
“It’s nearly noon,” said Sophie. “And it’s getting hotter. What is everyone waiting for?”
“Don’t you remember all the stuff from the faires?” Sonya answered the question with a question. “There’s all sorts of tradition and etiquette to any meeting of nobility.”
“She’s right,” said Rella. “The last Gathering happened over fifty years ago, and they’ll use this as an opportunity for the crowns to meet under enforced peace. War or not, while they are here, Kings and Queens can talk without the worry of messengers or anyone else getting in the way and causing problems. Most of them have never met their fellows.”
“One of them keeps looking at us,” Sophie said. “The woman with the shiny armor that matches her crown.” She stared back, with the defiance only a teenager could muster.
“That would be Mette Weldt, the Warrior Queen of Weldtir,” Rella answered. “She’s angry, and has every right to be. The southern half of her home has been overrun and now parts of it flooded, and she resents the obligation of the Gathering. Her duty demanded she come here instead of defending her own lands.”
“I thought The General was coming here. Are they going to fight since he broke the levee you told us about?” Sonya’s eyes shone, and she seemed almost eager to see confrontation.
“They might,” shrugged Rella. “But I don’t think either of them want to, and it did break the Deskren incursion into the south. She understands pragmatism, even if she doesn’t like it. A bigger problem is King Aomhar Valence of Forvale. He’s upset The General crossed his border with what amounts to his own private army.”
“And he couldn’t do anything about it because he had to come here?” Sophie was as curious about the politics as her sister was enamored of fighting.
Rella shook her head. “None of them could. The Bargain of Kings means they all had to come here, by today, or I would be freed from neutrality. None of them want me telling the future to the others.” She gave a wan smile. “No ruler misses a Gathering and keeps their crown for very long.”
As if the thought of The General pulled on her mind, she could suddenly sense the people approaching the city. Jargo was now escorting the General and a small group through the city, down the main avenue. The bulk of the troops following the banner had halted neatly outside the city, and she had already dispatched requests for aid and supplies to be provided to the weary refugees. While the futures of those accompanying him were relatively simple to predict -- at least in a broad sense -- thanks to her eye, that of the man himself remained infuriatingly difficult.
It wasn’t that Jacob was indecisive or confused in his thoughts, as she might find with the insane, or those plagued with self-doubt. He simply held so many possibilities in his mind at once that only the vaguest outcomes, the broadest strokes, were visible to her Sight no matter how she focused. When the Battlemaster gave an order or committed to a plan, the futures quickly solidified, but until then, he remained opaque -- most of the time.
In this moment he stood out to her mind’s eye, a nexus of grim potential. He had paused on the main boulevard, near the center of the city. Rella felt the futures shift as the man dismounted, halting the entire procession of horses in the middle of the street to approach a figure in a black coat with a white collar. The man -- the worldwalker known as The Preacher -- had spent most of his time on Anfealt tending to the poorer neighborhoods and helping to feed the impoverished. The entire docks district had been put to flame by the Deskren on Purple Night, so there had been no shortage of homeless and hungry and children to feed.
The odds of two Worldwalkers that did not arrive together actually knowing each other previously were infinitesimally small, but Rella couldn’t think of any other reason for the shock of recognition that had crossed Jacob Ward’s face. Father Albert, as Albert Magnus had insisted she call him upon their one meeting, was an unassuming and kindly man who had been more interested in helping the needy than most people she had ever turned her Sight upon. Even in her deepest meditations, no dire fates or crises had appeared that involved the man, so she had left him to his own devices out of respect for his age and the shock he had endured upon finding himself in a world other than his own.
Something started to hum in the back of her mind, millions of possibilities rushing past her, glittering flashes of possibility washing her vision away as the Sight took over. Yet, The General stood in perfect clarity, even as everyone else save The Preacher faded to grey and were lost to her. As the two nexuses of potential drew together, their words came at once blurred and crystal-clear, shouted through rushing water and right next to her ears.
“Last thing I thought I’d see here, Father, is that collar.” She could hear the smile on his face, even though she couldn’t see it.
The Preacher blinked, straightening. “You are one of the flock, then? From Earth?” His voice swelled with growing excitement.
“Yes, Father,” the General replied. “I grew up in the Church...but this is a long way from St. Peter’s in Nebraska.”
The words made no sense. She didn’t know what a St. Peter’s was, nor a Nebraska, and she couldn’t spare a single thought about their meaning as the rush of possibilities grew more tumultuous until, suddenly, they stopped short as if scythed off with an abruptness that clutched at her heart and quickened her breath as the Preacher spoke.
“Have you come to spread the Word, my son?” A dreadful spark burned to life behind The Preacher’s eyes, and in that moment, Rella’s world fell away.
A rush of blood washed over the future, over all of the futures around her. First, the Deskren, and then the rest of the nations of Anfealt, vanished in a crimson tide so thick she could taste it – and then, faintly, she realized she had bitten through her tongue. She choked on not only her own blood, but the blood of the future as she saw The General raise a new banner, a terrible banner, his lance motif crossed with a spar of brilliant vermilion.
One by one, the futures around her vanished, burned away from Fate’s tapestry. Lives ended in numbers beyond counting, their phantom screams echoing back across space and time. She saw massive ships raised, setting sail under that new banner for lands unseen, beyond even her Sight. She saw temples razed, gods torn from slumber and put to the sword, and new churches raised in their place, all to a single deity. Her Sight twisted, and she saw the world fall into centuries of chaos under a new, terrible lash.
The pressure of Fate’s warping closed in on her mind, and she could feel the [Oracles] within the mantle weeping in abject horror as the weight of this new, terrible future bore down on them all. As if from miles away, she dimly recognized that even those others in the plaza around her could feel it. The Twins moaned as one, clutching their heads, and The Fortress moved to stand before them, raising his shield against an unseen, unseeable foe. Servants collapsed to the stonework, and even Kings and Queens found themselves submitting.
Rella felt a True Vision rising, as fearsome and implacable as the fate she foresaw. Unbidden, her body drew breath to Speak--
“No.”
Suddenly, with that single word, Rella could breathe again. He carried on his conversation with the Preacher, ignorant of the horrible fate that that single syllable had spared the entire world. Their words faded into incomprehensibility as her attention returned to her body.
No, Rella thought with sudden realization. Jacob Ward knew better than anyone just what sort of weight sat behind such a question. He had shouldered its full weight in the span of a heartbeat -- and shrugged it away. That any man could so casually consider and then utterly dismiss such terrible glory without even reacting left her utterly stunned.
“My Lady,” spoke a rough but feminine voice. Mette, the warrior queen, had crossed the plaza while Rella was indisposed. “I can’t help but feel something dire just almost happened -- oh, and you are bleeding.”
Rella dismissed Mette with an annoyed wave of her hand, letting her mind go back to Jacob after wiping the blood from her mouth with a cloth one of the Twins offered her. Something had most definitely almost happened, and she would have to make up for her rudeness later -- but she had to return to the two Worldwalkers.
“Perhaps that is best,” the priest was saying with a gentle smile. “There’s been enough blood shed back home over such things to sate a hundred worlds.”
“Truer words,” replied Jacob, closing his hand around the other man’s upper arm. “I do have one thing I hope to discuss with you, though.”
“Really?” the Preacher asked, cocking his head. “I thought the [Oracle] would be waiting for you with all the other pompous fools calling themselves noble.”
“Aye, the [Oracle] can wait. I’d like to take confession, if you have a moment.” Jacob’s expression grew serious serious, and the Preacher nodded as he stepped away from the children to whom he had been handing out bread. He passed the basket to an older street urchin before turning and gesturing for Jacob to continue. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been…” Jacob trailed off, confusion writing itself across his face.
The priest chuckled. “We’ve been here in this world for nearly ten months by my best reckoning,” he said softly.
“It has been some time before that since I last…”
Their words faded as the priest made the same gesture Rella had seen him perform quite often, touching his forehead, then his chest, then each shoulder. She pushed harder with her Sight, feeling whatever was being spoken was of great import, and then--
The Preacher halted, his shoulders stiffening up as if he knew he were being observed. He seemed to step out of himself, and turned towards Rella, his imperious gaze freezing her in place. The rest of the world, too, seemed to still, leaving The Preacher and Rella alone.
Through her Sight, he looked her directly in the eye, golden flames dancing behind his irises as he Spoke:
“The sanctity of the Confession is absolute.”
Despite the distance between them, those Words came as clearly as if they’d been spoken directly into Rella’s ears, for her and her alone. As The Preacher returned to The General, Rella felt her Sight turned aside with a feeling of near contempt. She gasped, thrown back into her own body, and her shock rippled through the souls residing in the mantle. Places like the Wildlands or the Elemental Desert could obscure or confuse her Sight, but never before had anything simply denied the gaze of the [Oracle].
The sound of boots on stone brought her back to her senses, The Fortress having stepped around her to raise his shield against Queen Mette’s closer approach. The queen raised a placating hand before saying, “Peace, protector; I mean your Lady no harm. Is everything alright?”
“I...don’t know…” Rella’s voice trailed off as she considered the consequences of what had just happened, although she smiled with the realization that the Queen’s word had struck a chord in the mind of Wyatt Reinholt. The possible futures where he didn’t become her champion had just dwindled to a narrow few when she called him her protector. It was a balm to soothe the nervousness she felt at someone being able to so completely block her Sight.
==================================================
Millie didn’t understand what was so important about the strange man in the black coat with his white collar. Taller than Miss Erin, and thin, but with a kind face, he had been handing out food to children even younger than herself. Millie certainly approved of anyone who fed hungry brats; after all, she had been able to count herself among their number until she became a Soldier. He was not as tall as the Battlemaster, barely coming up to the commander’s armored shoulder plates, yet Jacob held obvious respect for the stranger. He had removed his helmet and greeted the man like a friend, and Miss Erin had even bowed slightly! The General’s Wife didn’t even bow for Lord Davin from South Hollows, the highest-ranked noble in the caravan.
She didn’t need to understand whatever had just happened. Both Jacob and Erin Ward had spoken quietly with the funny looking priest, and both Worldwalkers seemed much calmer and more relaxed the rest of the trip to the large pavilion where the [Oracle] waited with the Kings and Queens of Anfealt. Much of the weariness and exhaustion seemed to have been lifted from their shoulders, and they both smiled more. At least, they did until they passed a large field where many fancily-dressed people were drinking and shouting and playing games. Jacob’s smile melted back to the familiar scowl that usually meant people were about to die. Millie hoped not; she didn’t like not having her drum when fighting happened.
The man leading them -- Jargo, she remembered -- led them the rest of the way through the sprawling city. There were many piles of rubble and burned-out buildings, though those blocks were outnumbered by the new construction. The City of Prophets had not sat idle since the Deskren attack, and Millie was reminded that more than just the caravan had suffered. Her belly growled at the scent of sweet breads and pastries. Over their long march, the food stores they started out with had dwindled to austere rations of plain dried meat and biscuits, washed down with water, and the pleasant aromas from the city proved very distracting.
They halted before a series of broad stone steps that led up the bluffs overlooking the city. She could see flags at the top, most of them bright and colorful. None were as grim as the Black Lance, the flag carried by Mister Davin, Miss Jenna’s husband. Jacob sat still as everyone else dismounted, looking up at the flamboyant display. A cool breeze from the sea made the flags and banners dance, but the Battlemaster’s banner hung unmoving, weighed down by the black collars sewn into the bottom like so many tassels. Hett sighed loudly with relief at being back on the ground, shrugging his shoulders to settle the axe on his back.
“A lot of pompous jack-assery up there, for a bunch of kingdoms facing invasion,” said Jacob, before finally dismounting from his massive charger. The horse stamped one foot and simply looked at the stable-boy who tried to take the reins “He won’t move until I tell him,” said the General to the boy. “Leave him be, I doubt we’ll be here long. At least, not if I have any say.”
“Easy, lad,” Jargo told the boy, flipping him a copper coin. “The lady up top told me this would probably happen, just have some water and feed brought up here for the horses.”
Erin helped Millie dismount, the horse being slightly too tall for the girl to easily manage on her own with one arm. Hett and Davin likewise helped the last of their party to the ground. Calvin Descroix had been pulled from the mud, caught in the top of a tree by the floodwaters before his shield had collapsed. Bound, but not mistreated, Jacob had ordered the prisoner brought along. He kept his head up, however, captured but not cowed or cowardly, and Millie could respect that even though she didn’t really like him. Jacob pulled a small brown satchel out of a saddlebag, tucking it into his sword belt, and with that they began to ascend the steps without fanfare or announcement.
===============================================
Mette Weldt, Queen of Weldtir, eyed her royal counterparts warily as the sun neared its zenith, all of them waiting for the [Oracle] to officially convene the Gathering. She had little respect for most of them, and Aomhar of Forvale least of all. Tensions had been growing between their nations ever since the odious man had claimed his father’s throne, two centuries of peaceful trade and history cast aside when the new king repeatedly raised transport fees at several river crossings. Her spies could never prove it, but a drastic increase in river piracy and banditry had the scent of privateering.
As angry as she was at this Worldwalker General for destroying the northernmost levee and flooding several towns and a vast tract of farmland, she had to admit that the new position of the river would, in time, be a boon to Weldtir and her family’s ancient holdings -- as soon as the floodwaters receded, and the river became passable once more. As much as she hated being obliged to ride north while the southern half of her homeland was under attack, the Gathering had not been entirely useless: she had in her belt pouch a sealed agreement from King Lamon Dale of Meadowspire. Grain from the Golden Meadows meant her people would not starve before the land recovered, and with the river now bordered on both sides by Weldt lands, she could repay the debt far more quickly than before. Aomhar was incensed at the loss of crossing tariffs and shipping fees, and that loss was Weldtir’s gain.
Nine small shaded pavilions encircled the ancient courtyard: one for each Crown, and one, in the middle, for the Oracle. The courtyard itself was vast enough that one could have raised a small village within its expanse, if one would have dared entertain the thought. Not all of the pavilions were occupied; these were set more for tradition’s sake than anything else. Arctern, the northernmost kingdom, had had no ruler for centuries, and Glenhollow, the southernmost, had collapsed into a squabbling, infighting mass of lordlings and aspirants following the first Deskren War. It had never recovered, or remained conquered for long enough for one dynasty to cement its rule, which Mette found profoundly sad. The forests and hills of the Glens had once provided rich and profitable trade, but South Hollows had been its last true city. There wouldn’t be much left once the Empire was driven out.
Desena Kos, the queen of the far eastern monarchy of Kosala, was an enigma. Extremely reclusive, the Kosalans traded mostly with the Dwarves of Thun’Kadrass: dwarven cannon and military support in exchange for the bounty of the eastern seas brought in by Eastharbor’s massive fishing fleets and mercantile reach. They had barely a token ground force of their own beyond the various city guards, but they rarely suffered Deskren raids simply by dint of geography and the Empire’s utter lack of any real naval presence. The Gathering was probably the first time the diminutive and quiet Queen had ever left her own capital, and would probably be the only time she did so.
One ruler she did respect nodded back at her from across the pavilion when his eyes met hers. Hanz Geremas of Drakenth was by far the oldest and most grizzled of the assembled monarchs. The Drakengard Sky-Knights had once been known across the breadth of Anfealt before the bulk of their order had been wiped out in the disaster that had been the Battle of Oasa. It had taken three centuries for their numbers to recover after losing so many breeding pairs of Drakes, only to be brought to the brink of extinction once again during the Steel Crusade. What few they had left now never left the high reaches of Drakenth’s mountain ranges, save for risky patrols a few times a year across the Wildwall, to make observations near the Silent City. This was more to discourage would-be adventurers than anything else; the golems of the Ruined Kingdom stayed in their city unless disturbed, and no one sane would risk provoking them ever again.
The queen turned her attention to the central pavilion and its four occupants. She thought the new [Oracle] showed signs of promise, and resolved to watch her closely. Close-shorn tawny hair and an eyepatch contributed to her mystique; while Mette was curious about its necessity, to pry would have been unseemly. She certainly didn’t lack for the requisite boldness, having claimed a Worldwalker as bodyguard, and two more as personal attendants. Or, perhaps, as apprentices; Mette’s own eyes and ears had found precious little information in that regard. As always, the [Oracle] was impossible to track when she chose to be, and this Rella with no family name had vanished from the temple during the Purple Night only to reappear in Brackholt over a month later. She had promptly snatched up the Fortress and the Twins and vanished with several more of the town’s guardsmen, and no one knew for sure where they had travelled before showing back up at the Temple of Possibility just in time for the Gathering of Kings.
The Fortress and his sisters were a bit easier to understand in some ways, Worldwalkers or not. Teenage girls were teenage girls regardless of origin, and they seemed to be making the best of being in a new world. It was just as well, Mette considered, that the [Oracle] had found them first. Much could be gleaned of new magics and technologies just from what such people knew of their homelands, and not all peoples of Anfealt would have been kind in the asking.
The boy was certainly impressive, though. Tall and not done growing, he stood in his armor as if he had been born wearing it. A crooked nose and scarred face sat below eyes that never stopped moving; he’d never be pretty, but he had his charm, and the queen had noticed the way Rella glanced at him when she thought no one was paying attention. The girl would have been hard-pressed to find a more suitable protector, abilities with the Sight notwithstanding.
Her thoughts had been confirmed when the [Oracle] had suddenly gasped and rose up on the balls of her feet as if entranced. The young man had stepped between Rella and the crowd to interpose his shield between them, and the movement had been as natural and fluid as it had been preternaturally quick. He had the makings of a born defender the likes of which Mette had rarely seen, and, though young, he already had a solidity of presence to rival veterans of a shield wall. You’ll need that strength, she thought, especially with another Deskren War on the horizon.
A clamor by the steps leading down to the city distracted her, Aomhar and his guards protesting as one of the [Oracle]’s guardsmen led a group of newcomers onto the pavillion. Mette feared the whisper of steel being drawn, as a man in black armor nearly as tall as an Ursaran strode between the columns at the entrance despite the protests of the Forvalen King. He was followed by a brown-haired woman, much shorter of stature, and a grizzled old man with an axe strapped to his back. The figure tugged at her memory, but Mette had no time to linger on the thought. On the warrior’s other side walked a girl with one arm, little more than a child. She had black hair cut almost as short as a boy’s, and her single arm was encased in a gauntlet of exquisite workmanship matching the chain mail over her plain brown breeches and polished boots. A red chevron decorated the shoulder plate where her gauntlet was secured to the rings of the mail. As disturbing as the tall warrior, the girl’s red eyes bespoke a terrible capacity for violence, chained by absolute discipline. I know a Soldier when I see one.
Behind the man whom she realized -- with a flicker of impotent rage at the destruction he caused -- could be none other than The General walked another couple. Of middle age they seemed, both weary from the road and wary of their surroundings. They seemed especially wary of the man they led between them, hands bound in front with rope. This man she knew very well, at least by description, and Mette’s hand drifted towards the blade at her side. Calvin Descroix, under close guard or not, was hardly a welcome guest at the Gathering. Is The General insane?! she raged internally. Bringing one of the heirs to the enemy throne was almost certain to end in bloodied steel, Gathering or not.
Before the grumblings could turn into something more physical, the sun reached its highest point overhead to cast perfectly-aligned shadows from the pillars around the circle. Then, the [Oracle] Spoke.
“By the ancient Bargain of Kings, this Gathering is convened.”
|
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|
On any other day, in any other circumstance, Zizzy would have been overjoyed to be flying across the entirety of Stormbreak Isle. Chances for her to stretch her wings were few and far between, usually limited to training exercises with other teams of Wardens and her coveted free days that were, by the terms of the accord she struck with the city, afforded to her merely twice a year.
This was not one of those enjoyable days. Training exercises were varied in their purpose, but always satisfying and goal-oriented. Her free days were less structured, but still restricted in where she was allowed to fly. But today she had a mission. A mission sanctioned by the [Oracle] herself; this fact, hanging over her, made Zizzy as nervous as she was excited.
The [Oracle] rarely intervened in worldly affairs on her own initiative; usually, petitions on behalf of or bargains between nations were required to drag her into things. The fact that she had sent a missive in just such a way was a grim reminder of the potential disaster looming over the island. With such implications weighing on her like a funeral pall, and with explicit permission to top up her own reserves of power, Zizzy flitted southwards along the eastern coast of the island. She had an important stop to make before she could even attempt the two-day flight to Southpeak Village.
Roughly an hour by flight south of Stormbreak City, a massive block of grey and black stone jutted out of the sea just off the coast. Officially known as Stormbreak Prison, it was known to the locals by a name as mysterious as it was fitting: the Pillar. No bridge connected the facility to the rest of the island; instead, a broad platform butted up against the cliff facing the isolated tower of stone. The platform was ringed halfway around with one half of a levitation array, and its mate was inscribed on a balcony jutting from the side of the prison.
Zizzy swooped down towards the platform on the edge of the island cliffs, wary of the Pillar’s enchanted defenses. The passive wards made flight impossible, turning the ocean winds into vicious downdrafts that would smash any potentially flight-capable escapees straight down onto the jagged rocks that encircled the prison just above the water-line. What prevented escape also prevented entrance, and the only way in or out of the imposing structure was the floating platform.
With no small measure of satisfaction she banked sharply into a quick turn to halt her forward flight, a double beat of her wings in quick succession kicking up swirls of dust in front of the guard station next to the ferry platform. Not even the urgency of her mission could totally dampen her pleasure at being given a reason to fly. Her boots touched the ground with a soft crunch of gravel, and she took a moment to straighten her uniform while she waited for the dust to settle.
Even this far out, and isolated from the rumor mills present in more central cities, news of the [Mage-Eater] had managed to travel. A very tiny settlement had grown around the small clump of guard buildings and barracks. Normally it was lively, but today it lacked the normal hustle and bustle of the families brought in by Wardens serving their year long posting for guard duty. Zizzy’s demonic nature was completely unshackled after her exertion from the flight, and she could taste the nervous fear and wariness in the air all around her.
The ambient fear was not enough to abate her own arousal and hunger, however. A succubus had to feed to survive, and her feedings were always fatal to the unfortunate ones who became her meals. Word of her impending arrival, and the purpose thereof, must have been sent ahead by the Lord-Commander via expensive communication spells, because most of the men had cleared the area around the local Warden Captain’s office, save those who had enough mental resistances to endure the full expression of her own sensual aura.
“So it’s true then, Constable?” asked the young guardswoman standing outside the Captain’s door after a nervous salute, the slight quaver in her arm replicated in her voice. “We’ve heard all the rumors, but if they’re sending you here, then he must be as dangerous as the last supply caravan people were claiming…”
Even with wings I can’t outrun rumor! The thought was grim in the back of Zizzy’s mind. The ferry platform operators were charging up the the crystals to prepare for the unscheduled crossing, so she couldn’t avoid the necessity of speaking to the young woman.
“He is dangerous, of course. But we know how to deal with people of his class,” Zizzy replied soothingly. “Stay paired up with fighters or brawlers, don’t leave our mages alone for any reason whatsoever, and swap out your gear for stuns and riot suppression instead of mana-based focus items.”
“But why riot gear? Isn’t that for huge crowds?” asked the other woman as the door to the office opened to reveal the grizzled Captain.
The Captain’s voice broke in suddenly. “Because riot gear is loud, and guaranteed to get everyone’s attention. The Constable has the right of it,” His voice was gruff, and somewhat strained from the proximity of Zizzy’s aura, but he spoke with the calm experience of a life-long professional about his trade. With a very rare specialization in physical combat, the [Steel-Whip Sentinel] was one of the few class types who had little to fear from an anti-mage. “Classes like the [Mage-Eater] can’t tank a straight fight, Lieutenant, not unless they live long enough to reach higher levels and more powerful specializations. Which is why he needs to be stopped now, before his Worldwalker traits let him out-pace us.”
Zizzy nodded at the young woman as the trio walked down the cobbled street to the ferry platform. “On the off chance that you do encounter him, get loud, get flashy, get as much attention as you can and try to get away from him.” She regarded the junior guardswoman soberly. “Flash grenades, bright-sticks, sticky-balls, shock-nets. Don’t hold back, but keep your magic skills on lockdown. Attack with a single spell of your own, and he’ll turn it right back at you, but even stronger.”
“Aye,” continued the Captain as they waited for the crystals to charge the platform enchantment. “We haven’t had to deal with one in...what...thirty years or so, Constable?”
“Twenty-nine years and some months, Captain, but there were three of them,” Zizzy replied meticulously. “Mercenary spies, though; not true anti-magic classes, merely trained in similar skills. They all three managed to suicide before I could take them. Likely a Deskren geas --” the succubus almost spat the phrase -- “although we couldn’t prove it at the time.”
The younger Guard tentatively made to back away as the low hum of the charging platform reached a steady keen, but the Captain stopped her with a gesture. “I know it’s your first posting here at the Pillar, Lieutenant, but you were going to have to make this trip soon anyway. You’ll be rotating weekly between the shore and the prison for your entire tour of duty here, and now is as good a time as any to give you the tour of your new part-time home. I’ll see to that while the Constable attends to her...business.”
Zizzy’s aura pulsed with an intensity that beggared even the veteran Captain’s composure, and the Lieutenant struggled and failed to keep a blush from coloring her cheeks before the succubus wrangled her inner self back under control. “You are new, Lieutenant. You’ll be seeing me every month when things are running normally. Though, usually I come here with the regular supply run, so my aura is not this pronounced. Today is by no means regular.”
“Lieutenant Kanessa here is a [Dreamsinger],” the Captain spoke up, saving the young woman from what would have been a stuttering attempt to respond. “Bardic types tend to be more sensitive than most to empathic auras like yours, and being around you is good training for what she needs to look out for to protect her mind on duty. Sometimes our tenants can get rowdy, so a strong bard or singer for calming a mob or riot comes in handy.”
The trio stepped onto the platform once the sigils lit up to indicate the levitation array was ready. As they came within range of a small, glowing crest set into a simple pedestal in the center of the ferry, the captain’s badge began to glow in concert. As the safety rail closed around the edges, Zizzy cleared her throat and spoke up once again to get the awkward part of the conversation over with.
“Any volunteers from the condemned to go early, Captain?”
Lieutenant Kanessa made a choking sound, the blood draining from her face.
“As a matter of fact, yes. A new arrival since your last visit has requested the Kiss of Mercy,” replied the older man with a solemn tone. He continued speaking, giving Kanessa a moment to compose herself while Zizzy’s attention was on the Captain. “The young woman who burned down her husband’s shop when she caught him cheating. Girl admitted to it after she found out the collapsing wall killed a child. She’s tried to hang herself twice already.”
Zizzy winced at the news. “The truly penitent ones are always the hardest, sir, even though they don’t try to fight it.”
The captain’s gaze slid to the side. “The other two we have on the list might be more to your liking, then; a thief who turned to cutting throats instead of just purses, and a verified pirate who had the misfortune of being recognized by some local tavern patrons who saw his wanted poster. He’s regretting his choice of drinking establishments now.”
“Southpeak is two days away by wing, and more killings will happen before I can get there,” the succubus stated flatly. “Were these any other circumstances, I would give the woman a few months to reconsider, but I’ll need all three if I’m to fly through the night without stopping to rest.”
The Lieutenant finally worked up the nerve to speak, blurting out a question that had been on her mind since the Constable arrived. “How will you fight the [Mage-Eater], Constable Zizzy? Can’t he turn your magics against you too?”
Zizzy’s response was a throaty chuckle, laced with such lethal promise that the junior officer unconsciously retreated a pace. “I hope he does, Lieutenant. Truly. All of my succubus magics are fueled by lust and demonic hunger.” The Constable shivered for a moment, struggling with her predatory nature. “He may be able to match me in direct combat; there’s no way to know unless someone manages to live to tell about it. But all he will accomplish if he throws my magics back is to make me even stronger, and his own hungers will feed mine as well.”
The Lieutenant stared at the succubus for a long moment, deep in thought. “Everyone knows about the Good Succubus of Stormbreak, Ma’am. You’re very... “ The woman struggled to find words. “Different than I thought you would be. Nicer in some ways than I thought...not as nice in others.”
“Good is not always nice,” said the Captain with a gravelly chuckle. “Zizzy has done good work for decades, but she needs to eat just like the rest of us. She’s not once fed upon the innocent since she arrived in Stormbreak, so allowing her to act as executioner solves two problems at the same time. She gets to feed, and nobody else has to burden their conscience.”
As the platform passed the halfway point between the Island and the Pillar, it carried its passengers into the aegis of the Pillar’s protective wards. The security enchantments began audibly humming, filling the space with sound. The captain’s badge and the pedestal glowed brighter still; then, both glow and noise died as the wards accepted the arrivals. Once they were through, the air was calm enough to resume their previous discussion.
“So it’s true then, the stories about how you were summoned?”
The Captain and the Constable chuckled, sharing a glance before Zizzy responded. “Absolutely true, though incomplete. I was summoned by an unusually young student at the old Stormbreak Academy, but instead of taking me to bed or selling me amongst his friends, he merely asked me hundreds of questions about demonium runes. The boy never even looked at me, naked and kneeling in his room. I never even got his name before he cast me out with orders to stay out of his sight.”
“Might as well tell her the rest of it, Constable,” gruffed the Captain as he turned to look at Kanessa. “Her other orders were simple and had no loopholes for a young demoness to exploit. Merely to never feed on the innocent, and to be useful to the city.”
The succubus nodded as the Captain spoke, then continued herself. “I nearly starved the first few years. I didn’t know what to do. A summoned familiar literally cannot disobey their summoner. I didn't even have enough leeway to go back and beg for an explanation. They caught me after I had chased down a murderer I witnessed committing his crime.”
“The reports from the Wardens of the time were quite detailed,” said the Captain. “They’d been tracking him for weeks, but he was always two steps ahead and could hide his mana traces. Zizzy, however,” he said with a nod at the Constable, “did not know how to do that back then. So they followed her demonic energy trail from the last victim, and found her in the middle of feeding.”
The younger guardswoman goggled at the story, more detailed than the publicly known tales and rumors, albeit less fanciful. “And you never found out who summoned you? Even after more than eighty years?”
“No clues whatsoever,” admitted Zizzy. “And the Wardens tried. By the time they caught me there was no trace of anyone matching his description at any of the magic academies, and no-one has come forward to admit performing a restricted ritual in the middle of the city. I know he’s still alive through the link we share, but that’s all I know.”
“You know the rest,” said the grizzled [Sentinel]. “The city petitioned the [Oracle] to find out who the summoner was, but the request was denied and a suggestion sent back to the Wardens that they might benefit from recruiting someone like Zizzy.” The emphasis he placed on the word implied it was more than mere advice. “And now she’s the longest serving Warden in the history of Stormbreak.”
By the time the Captain finished speaking, the floating platform had crossed the distance to the Pillar. It came to a stop with a smooth whisper as it slid into its berth on the stone ledge that led into the side of the imposing prison structure. They did not immediately step off the platform, however, as the entrance was guarded by three massive [Obsidian Gatekeeper] golems.
All three golems had turned to face the platform as it approached, and the Captain and Constable Zizzy approached the central golem, badges held ahead of them. Like its brothers, it stood nearly two meters tall, imposing and blocky, rough-hewn from the same rock from which it took its class name. Its head was a smooth plate, vaguely reminiscent of a person’s, and its entire surface was occupied by a smooth crystal oculus. Zizzy stepped down first, holding her badge out as she waited a few heartbeats for the red stone eye of the golems to shift to blue.
“Right, Lieutenant, we can get this out of the way as well,” said the Captain as he presented his own badge, gesturing for the now very nervous guardswoman to approach. Turning back to the golem, his tone became terse and clipped.
“Command authorization: Danram Krev, Captain. Register new Warden identification.”
The central golem’s blue eye flickered, and a moment of silence hung in the air as it processed its new command.
“Command authorization confirmed. Ready to register new Stormbreak Prison warden. Present badge and state name and rank.” Its voice held a distinctly mechanical edge, and was as slow and ponderous as its owner.
The rookie Warden help up her badge, emulating the Constable and the Captain carefully.
“Kanessa Merron, Lieutenant.” she stated clearly and with a touch of pride.
“Identification registered. Life essence and Mana Signature recorded. You are now known to Stormbreak Prison, Lieutenant. Do not lose your identification. Loss of identification will result in detention until a superior arrives.”
With all the visitors now accounted for and identified, the golems retreated to the wall farthest away from the ferry platform and backed into their carved nooks in the stone to clear the way. The Captain assumed a kindly teacher-like tone as he continued explaining things to the Lieutenant.
“Postings here at the Pillar are for one year, Lieutenant Kanessa, as you already know. We have three shifts that rotate in and out of the prison itself, staggered so a third of the guards swap out every week. The ferry platform is only active one day a week barring situations like today when the Lord-Commander overrides protocol for emergencies.”
The younger woman listened raptly while the trio walked. “Will I be allowed to sing without causing trouble, sir?” she asked cautiously. “I’ve levelled some from combat training, but my Songs give me the most benefit to levels.”
“It’s encouraged, actually,” Zizzy broke in. “There’s very little entertainment here, for guards and inmates alike. Don’t think you have to wait for a riot to break out to sing calming songs.”
Danram gestured to Zizzy, nodding. “As long as you don’t have other duties, there are several places along the Walk where you can sing. The Walk circles above the central yard that’s hollowed out a few floors deep in the top of the facility. Don’t be surprised if the inmates sing along with you sometimes.”
As they made their way deeper into the prison, more people began to appear, the captain explaining the meaning of their differently-colored uniforms as they passed. A pair of scribes stepped to the side of the passageway after recognizing the Captain and the Constable, nodding respectfully as the three Wardens passed by.
“There’s a hospital wing, and a chapel for any staff that are so inclined. You’ll get your own room here, and the kitchens serve three times a day. You won’t be in the same room every rotation, though, so don’t get attached,” the man said with a knowing grin. “Once the storm season passes there’ll be a lot more pirates working the local island waters, and a lot more bounties getting claimed because of that. If the Pillar receives more guests, we post more guards.”
“That makes sense,” Kanessa replied. “What about you, Constable? How does it normally- um, work for you here when things go according to schedule?”
“Once a month feeding visits,” Zizzy replied with clinical detachment. “That keeps me strong enough to perform my duties. The condemned inmates usually make peace with it all before I even meet them. My Kiss is preferable to the noose, by far.” The succubus’s expression turned thoughtful before she resumed speaking. “I am not cruel, Lieutenant. My demonic nature requires me to feed to survive, and the pleasure and satisfaction is undeniable, but I show them all due respect for the Ending of their Stories.”
“And the woman the Captain mentioned?”
Zizzy’s expression became contemplative, chin dipping, as the detachment bled away from her voice. “Cases like her are...rare, and more difficult for me. The feeding itself is reflexive, but I...feel their emotions in the act.” The succubus’ tail twitched behind her. “Her request alone is a sign she is truly repentant, as if the priests could not determine that with their divinations and spiritual delving.” She shook her head sadly, then continued. “I wish we had more time to try to talk her out of her decision, but the Defiler may be working his horrors upon another victim as we speak here. I need all the power I can get to be sure I’m able to take him down.”
The three of them approached a T-junction in the corridor. The hallway to the left was the same as the one from which they’d come; to the right, it terminated abruptly in a heavy stone door, sealing runes arrayed across its surface. Zizzy fished her badge from her pocket and tapped it to the center of the array.
Kanessa made to follow, but the Captain placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her short. “Not that way, Lieutenant. We’ll speak to the woman and...get her ready. Constable, will you not take care of her first?”
Zizzy shook her head, wings rustling gently behind her. “No,” she said as her eyes began to pulse with a reddish light in time with her inhumanly powerful heartbeat. She continued with a husky rasp to her voice. “I’ll be more in control after these first two, so I can be gentle with her. Let her know her life won’t be spent in vain, despite her accidental crime.” As the seals on the stone door faded and unlocked, the door grated open, sounding like nothing so much as the door to a great tomb.
The grizzled old Captain nodded somberly, and with a gentle touch to the Lieutenant’s elbow, turned to the other doorway. Neither of Zizzy’s companions saw her expression finally give way to unbridled lust as she strode through the black stone entrance, and she was silently grateful for that.
For it was time for Zizzy to feed.
|
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|
Morgan Mackenzie was burning. So too was everything around her. Faintly, as though from a distance, she could hear pained screams and high-pitched whimpers that barely cut through the roaring wind and flame that swirled around her and inside her. She had always been afraid of her fire, in a small way. For the first few weeks after she landed in the Tree, her magic had burned its way out of her body every time she worked any spellcraft that used fire or lightning. Those memories had never truly faded, but the biggest reason, the one she always tried to ignore despite the tickling sense of warning from her instincts, was because of her very first night on Anfealt. Now, however, she was too angry to be afraid.
The sickening magic thing the strange rude man in the blue robes had tried to put around her neck felt wrong on a fundamental level. Morgan did not know how she had not sensed it before, but in the face of the fire such questions could wait. The touch of the metal against her skin, the man’s pompous attitude, the cavalier way he had ordered the other woman to destroy the bow -- all of it was an assault of wrongness against everything she believed was good in the world.
This was to say nothing of the soul housed in the bow’s gem. She felt that break before she realized what it was, and her realization only added to the fury. The woman raised her staff, stepping between the sorceress and her enemy. Morgan’s fire raged through the staff, battering away the defensive enchantments layered into the other mage’s robes. When the illusion snapped, the golden collar became visible: a sharp new target, standing out raw and repulsive to her sight.
Nessara fell to her knees when the collar melted under Morgan’s power and its own magical hold broke. The relief on her face and the tears that boiled away were almost enough to halt Morgan’s fire, the heat retreating for a moment as the woman whimpered a choking ‘Thank you.’ And then the light left her eyes as she crumpled, and the sorceress felt her rage reignite.
The target of her ire sent bolts of water and ice at her as he backed away. His own defensive magics were much more powerful than what Nessara had mustered, several rings and dozens of bracelets augmenting the passive protections woven into his robes. Morgan launched bolt after bolt of lightning his way as the sky burned above. She saw Dana scuttle under the flames, low to the ground, to shield a weeping Terisa as the Huntress frantically gathered what fragments of the shattered gem she could find into a bag. A distant part of her mind regretted the damage her fire had caused the woman, but making up for it would have to wait for another time. Chadwick had produced a small black rod gilded in silver, and the shadowy bolt of darkness was enough to leave her fingers tingling and numb after blocking it with [Spell Parry].
“Take her down!” screamed the man, his cowardice plain on his face. The other members of the expedition had turned on each other in a grand melee, and now the instigators of the chaos left the fight to aid their master. A woman with a crossbow fell, one of many cleaved in two as Morgan’s [Plasma Glaive] scythed through the charging group. The others dove to the ground, seeking to evade their fate. The [Skyclad Sorceress] allowed them no succor, however, and the earth churned and heaved like a living thing. Only bones and grisly viscera remained as evidence of their fate.
“I thought I understood what it meant,” she said as she stalked towards the panicking guild representative. Her voice wasn’t loud, yet it sliced through the roaring fire like a knife. “When the other me explained what the deal was. To not do nothing.”
Morgan’s voice rasped through the flames, resonating with the magic that coursed through her blood and the fire she breathed in and out of her lungs. Her resistances and affinities had kept the sensations of heat to a distant thing, something she was aware of but nothing that made her uncomfortable. Now she felt it running deep in her bones. White-hot and indiscriminate, her inner flame raged as brightly as it had that fateful night she ate the Fruit of the Tree. She poured it out towards her enemy, and one of his bracelets shattered into fragments. Another layer of his shields went with it. Her [Mana Sight] revealed dozens more, magic inscribed on items around his arms, pinpoints of magic at his belt, and the delicate filigree of enchantment in his clothing. Temporary obstacles, she thought in that small part of her mind that was still calm.
“I made a lot of mistakes when I got here. So many mistakes. But the worst was the fruit.”
Foz’s roar broke through the gloom, the booming sound competing even with the rumble of burning thunderheads forming overhead as the enraged cook charged forward, with only his massive clawed hands for weapons. Morgan shot a [Mana Pulse] to intercept the first shadowy bolt the slaver sent towards the half-Ursaran, but missed the second. Tendrils of darkness entangled the berserker, but the barbs were unable to penetrate his thick hide and so Morgan ignored him to turn back to her quarry.
“I burned that first night.” Morgan’s fire -- not her magic, but the terrible, primal force that had burned within her bones ever since that moment -- raged in her and through her as she continued her approach. “I think...it broke me; the fruit healing me as I burned, over and over and over again.” For so long, she had tried to keep her fire contained; now, she finally gave it free rein to burn. And burn it did. She knew she had lost control, but she no longer cared. She had done so only twice before; first when the [Shadowlynx] had bitten off her arm, and once again after defeating Solana at the Eye of Madness. This time was different than the others. This time, she did not black out. This time, she stayed fully aware of herself and her surroundings. Before, her fire had dominated her;. now, the [Skyclad Sorceress] embraced it.
Thunderous explosions of fire and lightning burst from her hands, and one after another, more of Chadwick’s shield charms and defensive enchantments failed as he staggered backwards under the ruinous assault. Several small seashells inset with intricate runes woven into his robes began to glow a brilliant blue. “Waters deep, heed my call!” he cried, and suddenly a torrent of foaming green sea water poured out of the enchanted stones. The streams of water gathered themselves in a vortex, sheathing the representative in a wall of liquid and distorting his leering features. Morgan’s fire hammered into the flowing water, giving off great hissing clouds of steam, but it held fast.
Morgan took a step. “And that fire?” she hissed, violet lightning flashing and thunder rumbling overhead. Jagged teeth of ice came into existence around her, and shot forward into the watery shield.
“It never went out.”
The [Skyclad Sorceress] vented her towering fury in a single, piercing shriek, leaned into her fire, and gave it free rein.
===========================================
Terisa Aras curled up around the leather bag containing the fragments of Althenea’s Soul Gem. Dana’s shields flickered and the engineer shuddered under the forces brought to bear against it, but the barrier around the women held. Distantly, she heard Foz roar. The familiar sound buoyed her spirit, for she knew the longer he fought, the stronger he would become. Few things could compete with an enraged Berserker, and his Ursaran blood only made his rage all the more potent. Biggles skirted around the burning woman’s flames, joining the huntress and the engineer and adding his own layer of magic to the shields projected by the suit.
“Something else is coming!” shouted the necromancer, his voice almost drowned out by the twisting inferno and the rushing winds that sprang up to feed it. “Pure Life magic, and Earth! I can feel it even through her Fire!”
Terisa could hear the Burning Woman speaking, but couldn’t make out the words at first. She dug into one of her remaining pockets to fish out another healing potion. Not as powerful -- or as expensive -- as the one she had used to repair her eyes, but still of exemplary quality that proved its worth as her burns began to heal. While lacking the immediate intensity of Dana’s Annihilator warhead, Morgan’s fire more than made up for it with its persistence: it was like unto a living thing that swirled around the woman and filled the space around her.
“The Wanderer?” asked Dana, her voice tinny and distorted through the faceplate of her suit. “I thought he was at least a couple days away!”
Terisa clutched the bag of shards as she responded. “He can move more quickly than you would think, even with his size!”
“-never went out.”
The words came just as the rushing winds stilled for a moment, and lightning ripped through the sky above the flames. The sorceress glowed even more brightly, her burning bones visible through the laced patterns of runes etched into her skin. The winds returned, whipping her hair into a wildly twisting mass of purple and black. And then the heat intensified once again.
“She’s lost control of her mana!” shouted Biggles as he backpedaled, trying to pull Terisa and Dana back with him. “And I can’t find Wuffle anywhere!”
Spheres of solid purple lightning formed around the sorceress, dripping liquid light that seared the eyes before the dozens of balls of energy rocketed away from their mistress to slam into the guild representative’s shields. His layered barriers flared and the watery wall he had summoned flashed into steam. The woman screamed incoherently, pouring more and more power into her effort. Chadwick’s enchanted bracelets and charms blackened one by one, shattering and falling away as Morgan brought her towering will to bear against them. As the last of the steam from his waters faded, he reached into his robes and produced one final artifact.
Icy fingers of dread wormed their way through Terisa’s gut as Guild Representative Chadwick used an item almost as infamous as the Golden Collars, more evidence of how deeply the man belonged to the Deskren Empire: after all, the Emperor did not hand out such artifacts lightly. With a twisting motion, a dark, gilded cage sprang into existence around the man with a pulse of shadowy power. The huntress flinched, as did Dana and Biggles; the magic felt wrong, and sent a twist through their guts. Mere possession of a Soul Shield, recharged as it was through terrible human sacrifice, was grounds for summary execution in every nation north of the Elemental Desert.
The man turned grey, his outline growing hazy as if seen through a wave of heat as his physical being was partly shifted elsewhere, rendering him immune to Morgan’s magic as it slammed into a spherical lattice of dark energy. “Your fire will burn out long before the Soul Shield fades,” he remarked grimly. “I probably still won’t escape. But…” A grin flickered onto his face. “The rest of you will be trapped here, in the Wilds, while Expedition burns. The siege should be well underway by now.”
A distant rumble of thunder caught Chadwick’s attention, and he glanced off towards the west. “That’s Pontem Praetor. You’ll never cross the gorge in time now.”
“No--!” blurted the Huntress as Morgan screamed again, mindlessly flinging magic at the man. The effort was futile, the flames and lightning seeming to fizzle out within an arm’s length of the greyed-out figure. Earth mana, having actual mass behind it, was slightly more effective, the gout of stone and dirt from underneath flinging the man back into the enchanted stone wall of Castra Pristis. Frustrated once more, the sorceress screamed again.
As if in answer, a deafening roar issued from beyond the fort’s walls, the sound almost a physical thing. Mana hung thick and heavy in the air, dense enough that Terisa could feel it; Biggles turned a peculiar shade of green as his more receptive senses were nearly overloaded. Dark green tendrils sprouted from between the cracks in the stone walls, and harsh grating sounds rippled through the air. A cool wind blew through the flames as a thirty-pace section of wall fell outward, ripped free by the colossal form of what might once have been called a man.
Crystal gauntlets wrapped in vines protected his hands and arms, glittering spikes protruding from shoulder and elbow. His brow was crowned in uneven nubs of the same greyish quartz, set above a face Terisa could never have forgotten, burned indelibly into her memory.
Misshapen and twisted, covered in crystal, he approached. Even hunched over as he was, and using his fists to walk, he stood over ten paces tall. The massive, ogre-like form opened his maw to reveal jagged crystal tusks and inhaled. The magic hanging heavy over the field evaporated, drawn into that inexorable sucking well of walking power that was the Crystal Titan.
The sorceress, her flames banked and only faintly flickering, turned her glowing form to face the beast.
“ Oh Daddy…?” she asked, her suddenly child-like voice clearly audible in the deafening silence. “I...I think I killed people…”
As if that effort drained the rest of her energy, she fell forward, the brilliant light of her runes fading into quiescence. Vines erupted from the ground, gently catching her unconscious form as the Titan lumbered forward through the gap in the wall.
It approached Chadwick on feet and fists, planting itself in the ground and staring at the man, his ancient eyes full of primal hatred.
“You...die.”
The words shook out of the air, not from the creature’s maw, but from the humming crystals protruding from its head. They came slowly, as if the very act of speech had to be dredged up from somewhere nearly forgotten. The sound resonated through the air and the earth and the stone, simultaneously a screech and a rumbling bass, and for a moment, Terisa thought her eardrums had ruptured. Chadwick watched nervously as a massive crystal fist rose into the air, and unconsciously raised his arm in a gesture of warding as it descended with meteoric force. A sphere of space around the representative was smashed into the cobblestone pavement, but the shield held around the terrified, trembling mage.
“Wait!” screamed Terisa, stumbling back to her feet. “We need him alive! We don’t know who else is working with him!”
“Where’s Wuffle?” Biggles was looking around in near panic, searching for any sign of his friend.
“He dies.”
“He definitely does, after he tells us what we need to know!” shouted Terisa at the gigantic man-like beast. Dimly, in the back of her mind, she registered surprise that the Wanderer was talking -- none of the Expedition’s records ever mentioned it. The knowledge was welcome, however, for if the Titan could speak, then it could understand and, just possibly, be reasoned with. “There could be a hundred or more traitors in the expedition!”
“Dies. All. Die.”
The vines had carried Morgan’s unconscious form closer to the Wanderer, and a massive hand scooped the woman up with a gentleness at odds with his terrifying presence.
“Hurt Morgan. Dies.”
“I think we’re in total agreement there, big guy,” said Dana. Her helmet had retracted after the flames died down, and her suit had returned to bipedal form. She brought her hand to her brow in a gesture Terisa was sure was a salute, though not one she was familiar with. “Thanks for the save, Devil Dog. I know she didn’t mean to, but the girl almost killed us too.”
“Long time." The yellowed eyes of the creature flicked over Dana's form. His grotesque head bobbed slightly in recognition. "Soldier.”
The Titan swung its attention back to the frightened representative. It grinned, showing a terrifying array of jagged teeth, bone, and razor-edged mana crystals.
"Tick. Tock."
It waited. It watched as Chadwick’s shield began to flicker, but it was not idle. As Terisa watched in wonder, vines snaked across the ground with a rapidity bordering on the surreal. The creeping vegetation spread faster than any plant, visibly working its way throughout the fort. Screams and cursing rose up from all around as people were forcibly dragged from wagons and tents, far more than the huntress would have anticipated. Fully a third of the Expedition’s manpower was compromised by the Deskren -- if the Wanderer’s senses could be relied on.
Not that I could stop him even if he’s wrong about any of them… she thought grimly.
“How do you know these ones are the bad guys?” Dana inquired of the giant.
“Bad magics. Same as other one. And hungry.”
“The magic is hungry, or you are hungry?” the Worldwalker replied.
“Yes.”
The guild representative kept trying to scramble out of the hole in the ground where his shield had formed an indentation, but each time he reached the edge, a length of vine would casually slam into the barrier to send him tumbling back down. The Titan seemed to find this amusing, a deep rumble emanating from within his chest as he sat cross-legged, waiting for the man’s defenses to expire. Biggles continued to frantically search the grounds for his scrubby assistant, and Lulu had hopped onto its mistress’ chest with a concerned wurble.
“I don’t see Wuffle! He’s not in my wagon!” he exclaimed, reappearing from within the structure.
“That’s the green one, innit?” asked a soot-encrusted dwarf while brushing himself off. Kojeg had rolled away from the flames, but seemed to have traversed the ashes of the cookfire on his flight away from the heat. He grinned, barely able to contain some sudden mirth.
“Yes, he’s pale green.”
“Methinks he’s about to have a word with the Guild Representative,” said the dwarf, leveling his hammer at the man.
Chadwick had finally noticed the lacy puffball stuck fast to his shoulder. He slapped at the scrubby, twisting around in a mad attempt to dislodge it. It remained doggedly attached, however; the Soul Shield’s effect apparently extended to the scrubby as well.
“What is--!” the man exclaimed, trying to pry Wuffle away from his robes. The scrubby had a surprisingly tight hold, however, and all he managed to do was transfer the puffball from his shoulder to his bare hand.
“Wuffle! What are you doing?” the necromancer demanded.
The only reply Biggles received was angry wurbling.
Suddenly, the man’s shield finally flickered and died.
Chadwick began to scream.
The Titan began to laugh.
And as Wuffle set about his duty, the Swiftwaters Guild representative learned the horrible truth about exfoliation.
|
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|
Terisa Aras stood atop the western gate of an ancient stone fort, watching the last few wagons of the Expedition’s caravan finish their journey across an equally-ancient bridge. The fort was named Castra Pristis, and the bridge spanning the three-mile long gorge was known as Pontem Praetor. Nobody could remember where those names came from; not even Terisa’s mentor. The old Ma’akan Badger had known many legends, but she had told Terisa more stories about the beast tribes than she had about the Wildlands. The [Oracle] could probably tell her, Terisa knew, but she would never consider asking for an audience for a matter of personal curiosity. The Worldwalker, Dana Pierce, however, did seem to be at least passingly familiar, though; she had been inordinately interested in the Old Road they had followed from the pass into the wilds, and the sight of the bridge itself had sent her into a frenzy, crawling all over the columns and arches holding the structure in place.
The engineer had spent hours inspecting various points along the bridge’s span, closely examining the hand-hewn stones and ancient mortar. Ominous mists obscured the rushing waters and jagged rocks almost a mile below, yet Dana was heedless of the danger, confidently working her way across the undersides of the arches and up and down the support columns. The Worldwalker had long since repaired her suit from the punishment it underwent, and went about on six or eight legs as often as two. Her aptitude for means of locomotion other than the bipedal was something many in her group found unsettling.
‘Repaired’ was, perhaps, a too-modest description; it might be more accurate to say that the woman had ‘remade’ her suit. Most of the materials remained the same; just as increased levels had altered and hardened Dana’s muscles and body, however, so too had her new skills honed her capabilities. Terisa understood her new friend still had a lot to learn, but the sheer speed at which the otherworlder did so was a frightening thing to behold. Not simply her skills and the leveling system, either; Dana brought her scientific mind to bear on everything Anfealt had to teach her, based on her remembered knowledge from her homeworld.
“What a hell her world must be,” she mused, “to have learned such things with no magecraft in her lands.”
“Scary, innit?” a man’s voice responded. Turning her head, Terisa saw Kojeg, who had joined her on the tower’s roof. His warhammer was resting head-down on the masonry, and he leaned against it with casual ease. “The things the lass builds in her workshop, only to destroy them afore anyone else can see…” He shook his head. “Almost enough to curl me beard.”
“Is it true she threatened the Thane of Thun’Kadrass at his own table?” she asked, intrigued.
“T’wasn’t a threat, Teri,” the man denied. “She simply told old Kadra that she was nae gonna give any of the Thuns her service or knowledge. Claimed it may end us as a people, to make war in the ways of her home. He called his Earthspeaker and Stonecallers, but they agreed she wasn’t lying. What they saw in her spirit shook them badly.”
Terisa leaned against the parapet, running one hand along the grip of her bow in a seemingly unconscious gesture. “Yet, she gave you better powders for your cannon…”
“Aye, that she did,” he agreed, stroking his beard. “But that was summat we already had, an’ she just made it better. Too, ‘twas nary a thing a mage cannae do on their own; I be no alchemer, but I was told there was much tugging of beards when she spoke to the Cannonry mages.”
The huntress turned back to the parapet, letting her eyes drift away from the ancient bridge to the fort behind them. The ancient, moldering bones of a city long abandoned could be seen peeking through the abundant greenery slowly reclaiming the land. The walls of the fort, however, had been built of sterner stuff, withstanding the ravages of uncountable centuries much better than what it protected. Far below, the subject of their conversation had begun directing the placement of her mobile workshop, laying aside her sketching paper. The odd shapes and lines of the rearmost section of her carriage now made sense to Terisa, after witnessing it in action. The legs of the massive walker were folded up against the body like a set of great ribs, and the terrifying cannons had retracted almost completely, leaving the barest suggestion of their shape to evoke memories of the carnage.
She glanced back at Kojeg, her expression worried. “You should have talked her out of coming, Kojeg. I have…concerns, about the wild magic here. For all that it does to us...she’s a Worldwalker. She’ll adapt to it, instead of resisting.”
The old dwarf shook his head, expression grim. “Might ‘ave worked were she stuck in her chair, but not for long, not even then.” He nods towards a point on the horizon. “Her workshop opens to the north face of the Kadral Valley. If you had forbidden her again, she would have come on her own.”
Terisa scoffed, shaking her head. “Drakengard would never have let her through, Worldwalker or not. Especially not a golemist Worldwalker. They still remember the Steel Crusade and none too fondly.”
“They don’t leave the peaks very often,” Kojeg pointed out, “except to scout their old lands. The Silent City has lived up to its name for almost half a century.”
Terisa’s fingers caressed the glowing jewel set above her bow’s grip, soothing the agitated emotions she felt from within. “Tch,” she scoffed again. “Even Althanea disagrees with you. You know the metalmen will come again, someday. All we can do is pray it’s not in our lifetimes.”
Kojeg laughed grimly. “And when they do, the Thuns stand ready. We remember, as the Drakengard do. Those lessons were hard-learned indeed.”
“Hard lessons,” she echoes, sighing. “I’m also worried about the migrating beasts...if the Wanderer’s come too early, or too far--”
“Nae,” the dwarf said, shaking his head. “The Thun’s Lorekeepers say he follows the ley lines. So long as we don’t disturb those, we just have to stay out of his way.”
“Still,” Terisa insisted, “something feels different.” She looked back over the bridge, leaning over the parapet. “I don’t know what or why, Kojeg. It’s...more than just Dana. Althanea is unusually agitated.” She shakes her head. “The Purple Night, the Worldwalkers, the worldstorm...all has me on edge, Kojeg. And you know my instincts are good.”
Kojeg lifted his warhammer, hefting it across his broad shoulders as he stepped beside Terisa. “Well, the lass will certainly be a boon to Castra Pristis’ defenses this year, at any rate.” He nodded to the other towers dotting the wall, where dwarven crews were winching their cannons to set up the stronghold’s defenses. The cannons themselves were fantastically heavy, but the dwarves managed the blocks and tackles with practiced efficiency.
“That’s another thing,” she mused. “We’ve never managed to gather so much crystal this early before. All of it in one place, unprocessed, is going to draw more beasts than we’ve ever seen. We should have had a lot of it processed and put away, but Dana damaged so much of it that even I can feel the mana leaking out.”
“Don’t worry so much,” came a worn-out voice from behind the pair. Turning, Terisa saw the mage, Nessara, stopping to catch her breath after climbing the tower. “I’m working on it, same as the Guild mages from Swift Waters’ delegation. We have the Expedition’s take stabilized for the most part, sealed up in storage.”
Terisa raised an eyebrow. “And Dana’s half?”
Nessara shrugged. “She claimed mostly the broken pieces, and only a handful of intact crystals. Nobody knows why; the broken bits are only good for alchemy if you can liquefy them, but we don’t have the right equipment. I don’t think she knows what she’s doing.”
Kojeg chuckled with wry amusement. “Never make the mistake of underestimating that woman. May it be she cannae liquefy them, but I don’t doubt she can use them as they are.”
As if summoned by her mention in conversation, an insectile leg hooked itself over the parapet, quickly followed by one of its mates and then the rest of them. Dana’s suit reconfigured itself back to normal-seeming legs, helmet already retracted. While the three on the roof tried to recover their composure, Dana vibrated in place before exploding into a proclamation.
“This is a Roman fort!” she exclaimed, an eager grin dominating her face. “The Lost Legion from my world must have ended up here!” She forced herself to pause and take half a breath, hopping on her feet. “The road? Down there? Definitely an imperial highway. The bridge, too! I wasn’t sure at first, but when we got here, the fort is laid out exactly like the ones the legions used to build back on Earth! The barracks, storage, armory...even the walls! Sure, there’s magic laced through every brick and joint, but...the design is there if you know where to look!”
The three adventurers simply stared at her, at a loss for words. The silence hung in the air, but just before Dana could become embarrassed by her own enthusiasm, Terisa spoke. “There are many historians who would give their entire fortunes to know that. I admit, I’m curious myself, but I’m more interested in what lives on this side of the canyon come nightfall.”
“I know!” Dana replied, still excited. “The larger monsters can’t cross the gorge, and now we’re in their territory. Don’t worry, though; my crawler ain’t the only toy I brought.”
Nessara failed to stifle a laugh. “‘Toy,’ she says. ‘Toy,’ says the woman who singlehandedly met the Expedition’s entire quota for mana crystals in the span of an hour.”
The otherworlder’s expression faded into stony silence, and she locked eyes with Nessara. “Yes,” she says firmly. “Toys. Playthings. Tactically questionable -- at best -- and far more flashy than effective. The fact that they seem so terrible to you…” Dana shook her head. “Some doors are better left closed, and you’d better pray the rest of my world doesn’t come here and throw ‘em open. I brought these toys, and they’ll be enough.” The woman spoke with a quiet confidence that shook Terisa. “Be thankful I choose not to build real weapons of war.”
Nessara remained quiet for a long moment. “I...find your tales hard to believe, girl. Yet I cannot gainsay them. I meant no offense,” she replied, nodding respectfully. “In numbers, your crawler would be terrifying.”
“Maybe,” Dana agreed, “but it’s slow and heavy. And it requires a [Neural Link] to control it. A normal golem core wouldn’t have the information bandwidth to make it do more than walk in one direction. For...certain definitions of walk...”
Terisa spoke up over Kojeg’s sudden laughter. “You seem fully recovered,” she noted, “from your hyperleveling. I know Biggles -- he wouldn’t turn you loose if your health were still in danger. Unless,” she amended after a moment’s thought, “he found something new to study. He may technically be a necromancer, but he takes his healing seriously.”
Dana grinned. “Both, actually! He seemed pretty sure I’m fine, except for the ambient mana making me light-headed every now and then. And then he found some new slime critter crawling among his sample jars. Looks like a bath scrubby from home, but he called it a new species and hasn’t left his wagon since.”
“Something strange like that could be evidence of the Burning Woman,” Nessara noted. “I don’t intend to hare off on my own to search her out, but the Magisterium did send me along to keep an eye--”
Suddenly, shouts went up from outside the walls, sharp-eyed scouts vigilant for incoming threats. As they died away, a low, buzzing thrum could be heard, rising and dropping in pitch. It grew suddenly louder as a metallic thing came zipping towards the fortress, barely above the treetops. In an instant, Terisa had nocked and drawn an arrow, Althenea charging the air around her with mana. She was suddenly thrown to the side as Dana hurled herself at the huntress.
“Stop!” she yelped. “Don’t shoot my drone!”
“What?” Terisa asked, looking extremely nonplussed at the engineer who had nearly thrown her to the masonry. She lowered her bow, but kept it drawn as the small metal thing circled the tower before perching on Dana’s shoulder. Soft clicking sounds heralded the drone extending spindly metal legs to lock itself into her armor. Once it stopped moving, four slender splinters of mana crystal could be seen. They were held in place by delicate copper settings bracketing a body no larger than its mistress’ forearm, vaguely reminiscent of a wingless dragonfly.
“I sent them out this morning to do aerial reconnaissance and map the Wildlands.” An aperture opened on what could have been its head, and it offered up a finger-sized piece of metal which Dana reached back to take. “After I leveled, I was able to upgrade them a lot.”
She held up the small metal rod for her companions to see. “They can take pictures -- ah, they record what they see, and store it on these little chips. I should be able to put together a detailed map of the area by...sometime this evening, at least a few dozen miles around us.”
“Them?” asked Terisa, finally relaxing the bowstring. “How many of ‘them’ are there? And do try to warn us before you turn any more of your ‘toys’ loose, if you could.” She shook her head, letting her shoulders unknot. “We’ll be here at least another two months before we have to head back before the first snows, and I’d rather not have to intercede if someone breaks one of your toys thinking it’s an attack.”
Dana looked appropriately chagrined, rubbing the back of her head. “S-Sorry. I get excited, sometimes, when I build something new.” Her expression morphed into intense curiosity. “Are you so sure we’ll be attacked? It’s all been quiet since the stampede.”
“We’re always attacked at the fort,” Terisa responded. “More often, towards the end of the Expedition, when we have wagons full of material. But...don’t let your guard down. You’ve brought in more than normal, and if this is a migration year, all sorts of monsters will be moving out of the Wanderer’s path.” Terisa slung her bow, turning back to look over the fort. “I take it these are more of your ‘toys,’ that Kojeg’s countrymen are setting up along the walls?”
The dwarves, having finished setting up their cannons, were now unpacking crates and setting up tripod-mounted weapons atop the parapets. They looked a bit like smaller versions of the larger cannons, an elongated box with a long, comparatively thin barrel jutting out above the wall.
Dana shook her head. “Those aren’t toys. You asked me what the Thanes requested in exchange for their sponsorship? They wanted my help improving the defenses here. Nothing they wouldn’t have worked out on their own in a couple more decades, anyway.”
“Aye,” rumbled Kojeg, masking a grin. “Weapons that throw bolts of mana from crystals are common enough, but--”
“--the challenge is recharging the crystals fast enough to be useful,” Terisa finished, nodding. “I know. I take it you think you’ve fixed that?”
Dana nodded. “It’s why I wanted most of the tiny pieces. The big ones, sure, they power my suit and mecha, but for these, I needed a smaller size; I’d have had to break them down if I didn’t have ‘em. I actually will when I get home, if I can work out how to cast them into a substrate.”
The worldwalker turned to Nessara with a questioning expression, and the mage considered. “Should be simple to liquefy the crystals, but once you destroy them like that, they won’t hold much of a charge, even if you resolidify them.” She leaned on her staff, frowning. “If...you don’t need much of a charge, and you just need something quick, it ought to work. It’d be weak, though. Any spell you cast won’t pack much punch, though I suppose if you had enough…” Nessara trailed off, watching as the dwarves attached flattened metal cylinders to the backs of each weapon.
Dana picked up the explanation. “I don’t have the means to make more ammo for my crawler, and I burned most of it against the stampede. These, though, are just a standard manabolt enchantment with a rotor to connect multiple chambers to a flow of power in sequence. The crystals get fed into the rotor, cycle through the chamber, the powering crystal discharges the mana in the chamber, then they get dumped into a hopper on the other side.” She grinned.
“So that’s why you wanted the pulverized crystals,” Nessara breathed, understanding dawning on the mage’s face. “You’ve got...what, several hundred thousand shots?”
“Just under two million,” Dana replies proudly. “But I don’t have nearly that much ready to go in drums. I’ve got two of my worker golems playing collier, so the rest of the shards should be ready within a week unless I have to use them before they’re ready.”
As if cued, impact tremors began to resonate through the earth. Another shout went up from the scouts, and the four atop the wall watched as trees began to shake off to the south, limbs swaying and timber cracking as if under a heavy gale, though the skies remained calm.
“I think you’ll get to put ‘em to use earlier than you thought, Worldwalker,” Terisa said, drawing her bow once again. Her [Eagle Eye] skill allowed her to confirm what she already suspected: “[Dozer Moles],” she called. “They won’t be able to go under the walls, but they’ll sure be able to go through ‘em. Looks like they’re running from something.”
Kojeg raised a brass spyglass, peering to the south alongside Terisa. “I think ye be on ta summat about it being a migration year. I’ve never seen one, but we all know the stories.”
“I’ve seen one,” Terisa replied grimly. “The first Expedition I joined, cutting my teeth on the wilds after the Third Deskren War. The Wanderer isn’t usually the problem; it’s everything running to get out of his way.”
“What’s a migration year?” Dana asked. “I never read anything about it!”
Birds and other flying creatures rose in droves from the distant trees, and the ground rumbled again. This time loose stones and gravel bounced and the adventurers on the tower struggled to keep their feet.
“Get yer guns ready, lassie,” Kojeg warned, flexing his hand on his warhammer. “It seems ye be about to find out.”
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 30: Entrenchment",
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Dana Pierce dropped the overheated welding rod with a hiss and shook her singed fingers. She had developed many resistances along with other useful skills since her arrival in the Dwarven city of Thun’Kadrass, but pain was still a thing she avoided, and without a high [Pain Resistance] burns still hurt. With a frustrated grunt, she backed her chair away from the worktable and wheeled her way through her workshop to make her way to her rather small but comfortable living quarters, not too dissimilar from her old barracks.
After getting over her initial shock from her situation, she had struggled to find a way to support herself while remaining independent. The dwarves had been tripping over each other trying to offer her patronage and support in exchange for exclusive access to pick her brain about Earth technologies and industry. All their offers came with strings attached and required oaths of loyalty she was not prepared to give, however, so she had finally haggled her way into a direct exchange of information for gold.
Her background in engineering and well-rounded modern education had provided her with many intangible things to leverage with the dwarves of Clan Kadrass, and she had traded on her knowledge with the sort of cold calculation only a trained Sapper and veteran Combat Engineer could manage.
The Dwarves had learned of basic black powder from another worldwalker centuries before. While they jealously guarded the secret against the other races of Anfealt, her impression was that they were not a culture prone to rapid advancement. They were long-lived and practical on the whole, and that led to a much slower and more plodding approach to experimentation. However, that did not prevent them from aggressively pursuing advancement opportunities when one literally fell into their figurative lap.
While she was no chemist, she had still managed to trade them a simplified version of smokeless powder for their cannons and smaller arms in exchange for a comfortably tidy sum of coin. She had used that gold to buy her current workshop and home, nestled into the outer side of the mountain that contained the greater part of the city of Thun’Kadrass. All in all, I think I got the best deal possible, she thought to herself.
Dwarven society seemed to put more value on properties built closer to the center of the mountain, far away from daylight. Her shop, larger than any aircraft hangar that could be found on Earth, opened up to the outside of the mountain. Only the poorest of Dwarves lived close to the surface at all if they could help it, and almost none actually sought such a thing willingly. The property merchant group she had bought her new home from had been utterly thrilled to get such an undesirable piece of real estate off their books.
“Kojeg!” she shouted, bringing herself to a stop nearby a low table that held an assortment of items, among them a clay jug filled with water. “I need more fusion tips for the welding rod!” She quickly doffed her protective welding apron and tinted crystal visor, placing them on the table and wiping her brow before claiming the clay water-jug. Despite the magic of this new world, metal-work was still a hot and sweaty profession.
“Kojeg!” she shouted again after quenching her thirst. She left the jug on the table and headed back through the scattered junkyard maze that was her demesne, searching for her friend and business partner. The [Steelgrip Artificer] had been one of the relatively rare dwarves who had spent most of their lives adventuring in the human lands before retiring, and unlike most of dwarvenkind, he had no issues at all living and working so close to the surface.
Her shouts could barely be heard over the banging and clanking in another part of her mountainside garage. Pieces of equipment and gear she used to think were strangely designed sat scattered about the vast open space, like a huge junkyard of detritus that seemed to have been cast aside by an army of insane heavy-equipment mechanics.
My shop is a steampunk fan’s wet dream, she thought to herself while navigating the piles of parts and ramshackle shelves that sprawled chaotically throughout the expanse of the shop. I really need to work on an inventory system.
Her search for her busy workshop assistant was cut short as Kojeg’s daughter, Andeira, came rushing out of the office storefront that faced into the mountain towards the upper levels of the city. “I have them, Dana!” the stocky woman called out as she approached, carrying a small wooden box. “I know the shop isn’t in a bind for coin right now, but ordering them all the way from Sprocket is going to start hurting soon. We’ve bought up every single one available in the Thun, and the Gnomes have started charging more thanks to the demand.”
“I know, I know,” replied Dana. “But the ones made here can’t do the detail work I need them for.” She took the box and placed it in her lap to free up her hands to maneuver her chair. “It’s getting easier, though; every time I level a fabrication or assembly skill, I get better at controlling the Mana output through the lenses.”
“Your Worldwalker traits are just unfair,” grumbled the young dwarven woman. “We already level slower because we live longer than humans, so when you add in your skills bonus, not even our Earth and Metal Affinities can keep up with you!”
“Ha!” she barked. “I’m still stuck in a chair though, don’t feel bad. And I’ll never be able to shape the metal like your pa.” She wheeled around and headed to return to the worktables, Andeira following to continue their conversation.
“I can’t thank you enough for hiring him on.” The younger Dwarf smiled as she walked beside Dana. “After his adventurin’ days he’s just not suited to the repetitive factory work at the Great Forges of the Thun.”
“How could I not? I practically landed on his head, after all! I thought for sure he was gonna kill me, ‘til he realized I was legless and wasn’t trying to attack him!” Dana chuckled as she placed the box of parts on the table. “And then he helped me out, let me stay at your place while every guild in the city was champing at the bit to sponsor a pet Worldwalker and be the only ones using my knowledge.”
“Still, a shop like this was always his dream after he retired. The forges were crushing his spirit.” The dwarven woman smiled as a particularly loud banging noise and some colorful cursing echoed through the cavern. “He likes being able to work on his own projects and do different things every day instead of just hundreds of the same parts with every order.”
“Well,” said Dana after finishing off the water jug from the table. “He taught me about golems. Magic versions of the robotics I was going to school for after I left the military.”
Andeira had always been interested in anything to do with Earth and its technology, and was quite happy for an opportunity to ask about details. “It’s amazing to me that your people were able to build golems and set their instructions without an enchanted matrix and mana-crystal cores.”
“You’ll be able to do things like that here, too, one day.” replied the chair-bound woman. “This world simply had no need to advance that field of study, not with magic and the levelling and skills system.”
She opened the box of parts and removed one of the new fusion tips. Three conductive metal prongs held a needle-thin sliver of extremely delicate crystal, the entire piece slotting into the end of an enchanted rod similar to a screwdriver handle. A larger crystal was nestled into the back end of the rod’s insulated grip to provide the power for the device.
“I’m actually working on a hybrid mana-turbine for power generation for our next coin infusion,” she continued. “Your dad has said for months he wishes we had an actual smelter and a proper forge here, and we definitely have room. I also want to be able to melt down some of this scrap so I can start making my own custom alloys.”
“More strange metals? I thought the clan’s Great Forge could produce anything you needed.”
Dana looked at her with a thoughtful expression before answering. “It definitely can, for a given custom item. Your Kadrass smiths produce some of the finest work I’ve ever seen, so don’t take it as an insult. But each thing they make is slightly different, with variations in machining tolerances.”
“I’m not insulted, I just don’t understand why that’s important.” Andeira shrugged. "I'm only a shopkeeper; the forge never interested me as much as haggling over prices did.”
“It’s not all that big of a deal with things like swords and armor, as long as they meet minimum spec,” replied Dana. “But a lot of my designs are modular or require interchangeable parts with exact specifications. If something’s even a tenth of an inch too large or too small, it won’t work. Some of the things I want to make require building the tools to build the tools to even get started.”
“I’m sure the guilds will be eager as ever to-”
Their conversation was interrupted as the double-doors to the shop’s supply entrance were suddenly pushed open. A pair of dwarven porters shuffled through the doors, carefully bearing a rounded cylindrical chest between them. The chest itself positively reeked of protective enchantments; even the most novice of caster classes would be able to sense them.
But it was the pair following the delivery that had Dana’s jaw dropping to her chest. A gnome, barely three and a half feet tall, followed the dwarves. The various tools affixed to his belt and the goggles on his head with selectable lenses made his specialization in some form of artisan or tinkering profession rather obvious.
His tunic was the most offensively bright shade of yellow Dana had ever seen in her life, as ridiculously gaudy as the most heinous Hawaiian shirt imaginable. Said insult to fashion was driven even further into depravity by the horrifically reflective blue breeches, lending an overall effect that resulted in her eyes each trying to focus on one or the other and settling on neither, leaving her almost cross-eyed.
“It doesn’t get any easier to see with time, either,” said the gnome's companion. Not having seen another human since her arrival on Anfealt, he was also a shock for Dana's eyes -- even before she noticed the man's rather glaring oddities.
“Petram Bracklethwait, the [Lifesteel Architect],” said the human as he held out his hand to shake hers, and Dana saw that his entire arm was made of interlocking sections of metal that flexed as smoothly as flesh. “My insultingly garish friend here is Jemeris, a [Brightspark Engineer]. Your order was so unusually fascinating we decided to deliver it in person so we could be available if you need any adjustments done.”
“Ha! Don’t let him fool you,” the so-named Jemeris interjected. “We wanted to meet a Worldwalker, and pick your brains about how you came up with the ideas for these design modifications on the standard prosthetic grafting interface.”
Dana practically vibrated in her chair once she realized who these new guests actually were. “Andi!” she exclaimed.”Tell your Pa to mind the shop, I’ll need your help with this!”
As the dwarven woman hurried to deliver the message to her father, Dana turned back to the newcomers with a grin. “Dana Pierce. Man, it’s good to see a human! No offense, Mister Jemeris, sorry! And I wasn’t expecting it to be done for at least another month, let alone delivered all the way from Sprocket!”
“Well, normally our prosthetics do not require a personal visit,” said Petram. “The peculiarities of our Lifesteel Alloy and the form of enchantments used to graft them are intentionally designed so that almost any skilled healer can activate and adjust them.”
Petram’s gnomish business partner seemed to be nearly vibrating with excitement. “But the design specifications you sent, they are not for a prosthetic, are they?”
“You have a skill to let you directly interface with golem-cores, don’t you?” blurted the metal-armed man, unable to contain his own eagerness any longer. “I’m betting you contracted us because you needed a better way to link with them than just touch or a standard mithril graft!”
Dana was suddenly wary, leaning back in her chair to eye the newcomers with a cautious look. “If this is a push for you to get me to work for you or sign any contracts, you made the trip for nothin’.” She shook her head viciously. “I had to deal with enough of that with the dwarven guilds and the cartels when I first got here.”
“Nothing of the sort, Miss Pierce,” said Petram with a conciliatory tone, raising his arms placatingly. “While we’d love to strike some sort of arrangement of that sort, your stance on such things is quite well established among the guilds. We knew that before setting out on this trip.”
“Besides,” cut in Jemeris with a wave of his hand, “he really outdid himself this time. It’s a masterpiece! And we weren’t about to just ship it with a standard caravan.” The gnome patted the enchanted chest affectionately before continuing. “Very delicate work, we both earned a class level working on this project!”
“All we ask is that we be allowed to see our work in action before we leave,” said the taller man. “And any information you may volunteer about how and why you made such a request. We can see now why you didn’t request prosthetic legs,” he said with a nod towards her obvious lack of appendages. “At a glance I’m guessing there wasn’t enough left of your bone mass? I had to have my entire shoulder structure replaced to anchor my arm, and legs are trickier, sadly.”
“That was a disappointment, finding that out after seeing people with magically animated metal limbs after I got here,” she sighed, as she scooted her chair up to inspect the enchanted box. “Really got my hopes up, I have to admit.” She looked down at the container with a grin, barely able to contain her anticipation. “Come on, bring it into the clean room. Everything should make sense once you see what it’s for.”
Without waiting for acknowledgement, she made her way back across the shop as a huffing Andeira returned from her errand to fall in beside her. Petram and Jemeris trailed after, directing the porters to bring the chest. The chair-bound Worldwalker led them past her living quarters, stopping only long enough to place the almost-forgotten box of welder parts on the table.
Nestled into one corner of the cavernous junkyard was a steel structure easily as big as a two-car garage on Earth. Enchantments traced onto the walls pulsed gently with Fire, Earth, and Air magic, keeping the building and the surrounding area perfectly sterile and clean.
The door to the partition opened to reveal a sectioned-off antechamber with a low table running along one side, and doors opening up to the rest of the interior. After the porters placed the chest upon the table, Dana shooed everyone except Andeira out of the building. “This shouldn’t take long, gentlemen, but I’m not about to give everyone a show while Andi helps me get changed. Just be patient, please,” she said as she shut the door in their faces and slid a locking bar into place.
Her excitement was infectious, and Andeira was grinning as Dana turned the catches to unlock the chest. The lid smoothly slid open to reveal what looked like a metal centipede from a low-budget Hollywood rejected horror film, but to Dana, it rivaled the Sistine Chapel ceiling. It’s just like I designed it, she thought with wonder.
The Lifesteel Alloy gleamed in the light of the mana crystal bulbs embedded in the ceiling. The implant was constructed of thirty-three articulated segments that could move organically, the enchanted metal allowing for a perfect melding with flesh and bone. Each segment sported a pair of needle-thin prongs, so delicate they could make a razor’s edge jealous of their sharpness.
Andeira grimaced at the sight of it, inhaling sharply with a hiss. “Are you sure it’s going to work the way you designed it? Once Lifesteel is bonded with the body you can’t remove it without going deeper than the melding, and this is going to graft right onto your spine!”
“I’m sure,” replied Dana as she double- and triple-checked the spinal graft with several different magical analysis tools. “All of the connecting linkage enchantments are spot-on with my design specifications. It’s exactly the same principles as any normal prosthetic that uses Life Mana to force new nerve tissue connections to mesh with the Lifesteel, only I’m not connecting to the nerves of severed limbs. I’m making entirely new ones.”
She did not give her dwarven friend any more time to protest, pulling herself out of her wheelchair and up onto the table with a smooth burst of effort. Dana had worked very hard to maintain her upper body strength after losing her legs, and the addition of stats and levels in the new world had led to an even more pronounced physique.
“I have no idea how you came up with these ideas, Dana,” said Andeira as she helped the human remove her clothing.
Dana awkwardly wriggled what remained of her lower extremities to discard her shorts before laying forward across the padded support fastened to one end of the table. “Heh,” she chuckled. “I got this particular idea from the one of the villains in a popular illustrated fiction series, only he was made up. This is really happening.”
The dwarf didn’t reply this time, as she used her teeth to pull the stopper from a crystal bottle before pouring the liquid over a cloth. Dana pull her hair up out of the way as her friend swabbed up and down her back with the specialized cocktail of healing potion, antiseptic, and magical numbing agents.
Finishing her ministrations, she replaced the stopper and put the bottle back on a shelf. “Now you know this is still gonna hurt like nothing you’ve ever experienced, right?”
Dana nodded the affirmative. “Do it before I change my mind,” she grimaced, straightening her neck to face forward and biting down on a piece of folded leather. The other woman moved around outside of her vision, and in a mere handful of heartbeats she felt the prickle of the living metal tines prodding the partially numb skin of her back.
Andeira pulled a small crystal rod down from a shelf and then paused for a single breath. “Activating the grafting enchantment now,” she said.
And then Dana passed out from waves of pain orders of magnitude worse than the incident that first maimed her body.
Watery eyes and lights too bright welcomed her back to the waking world, and a biting, burning pain that danced through her entire being. But the pain was fading with every labored breath in Dana’s lungs, as the nerves and bones of her spinal column meshed with the enchanted Lifesteel Alloy more completely with every heartbeat.
“Pffftaaah!” she exclaimed when she finally had recovered enough to spit out the leather she had bitten into. ”Jesus Christ on a burnt cheese cracker! Fuck!” she gasped. “I’m so fucking glad I only have to do that once!”
Moving carefully, Dana felt around her lower back and tailbone where she could reach without the flexing causing too much pain. All along her spine, the living metal was fused with her flesh. She could feel smooth ridges with staggered notches etched into the material like strange connecting ports. She could feel it with her fingers, and she could feel that touch of her fingers through the metal as if it were flesh.
“God, that is so weird,” she said. “I can feel through the metal.”
“Aye, that’s why P&J’s prosthetics are the most sought after and most expensive in all of Anfealt, when people can’t get to a healer in time to replace the actual limb. Nobody else knows the secret to enchanting the alloy, though I doubt Mister Petram ever thought anyone would request something like this.”
“I’ll have to come up with some outfits that leave my entire spine clear, Andi, but for today I’ll have to settle for just the harness. It covers everything anyway, and I can’t not try this out right now.”
Now recovered enough to move almost normally, Dana pushed herself up and flexed from side to side to relax her pain-cramped muscles. She lowered herself into her chair and then wheeled through the door into the main space of the building where a half-dozen bays were occupied with what looked like different designs for archaic steampunk armor.
Rolling over to the second bay, Dana pulled down herself up out of her chair by means of two curved bars on either side of the opening. With a well-practiced swing she turned herself around and gently lowered herself into the customized, cupped seat of the magitech walker standing ready in the alcove.
Andeira helped her secure herself into the seat with the various buckles and straps, and tightened the padded chest harness in place with a deft manipulation of the fasteners on either side under Dana’s arms. “So this is supposed to get rid of the delay between movements when you use your skill?” the dwarf asked as she double-checked that her employer was firmly secure.
“That’s the idea. With touch alone, it’s like jerking along; I can move it but there’s so much lag.”
With that, Dana relaxed back into the contraption and closed her eyes to focus. She had spent months trying to figure out the best way to use the signature skill of her class, and the day had finally arrived. With a thought, she activated the [Neural Link].
As her skill went into effect, the golem frame shivered as the core activated with a low hum of mana. Tendrils of woven copper, gold, and mithril protruded from the seat to socket gently into Dana’s new spinal graft, allowing her to sense the entire mechanical body as if it were her own.
The experience was disorienting at first. Moving the walker’s arm happened by instinct when she moved her own flesh and blood arm, and she would have fallen over in the bay when she tried to take a step. “Okay,” she laughed with a heady feeling of intoxication over the improvement. “There’s no lag at all, but this is gonna take an adjustment period.”
A few clanks and experimental attempts, and Dana was able to make the walker march in place, very slowly and carefully. “The arms I’ll have to practice with later,” she said with satisfaction. “Alright, Andi, open the main bay door.”
Her assistant complied, pulling a lever on the wall that caused the chain and pulley to slowly raise the front wall section.
With a smugness that could not be expressed in any languages on Earth or Anfealt, and to the utter surprise and wonder of a gnome, a human, and two dwarven laborers, the [Golem-Forge Mechaneer] stepped into view.
|
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Morgan Mackenzie was climbing a sheer rock wall, and having a far easier time of it than any self-proclaimed mountaineer or free-hand rock climber had ever been able to boast. Her magic made it as simple as climbing a ladder, and it was only getting easier the farther she ascended. Magic helped form the perfect hand and foot-holds sculpted directly into the rock as she went. Barely a third of the way up the cliffside, and notifications for levels in [Earth Sculpt] and [Earth Affinity] had popped up several times in the few short hours since she began.
The sun had begun to set, and the glow of the twin moons had begun to brighten the eastern sky with their pale, silvery luminescence. The fading light was no barrier to her eyes, not with her [Mana Sight] tattoo enchantment. The enhanced vision allowed her to angle her path away from larger cracks and crumbled sections of the cliffs. She could fuse them into safe, solid handholds, but it expended more Mana than she would like. She only had so much, and there was no way to replenish herself on the way upwards.
Morgan had debated internally about staying the night in the lowlands, but her experiences so far with the local fauna spurred her to push for higher ground immediately instead of waiting. The remains of what she was so far calling the Cycloceratops had been a grim reminder of the extreme dangers of this new land. As if the Shadowlynx, the Pack, the Tyrannorabbits, the Doomturtle and Hail-Hydra weren’t enough of a clue, she thought.
And so Morgan was climbing. Lulu had seemed to have had enough of getting jostled on her shoulder as she reached for one handhold after the next, and the scrubby had kept pace next to her as they ascended. The poofball’s attempts at napping had been constantly interrupted as Morgan reached upwards repeatedly, and it had finally given up with a huffy wurble.
She could have dug out a cave or ledge to rest, but decided against it. Her Stamina and body fat reserves were holding up for now, but excavating enough stone to yield a safe cave might possibly compromise her ability to finish the climb. Her [Athleticism] skill had gotten an impressive workout due to her efforts, gaining two levels in the long night hours it took her to close in on the summit.
Reach. Exhale. Mana flowing into her hand, out through her fingers. Mold the stone under her fingers. Pull while pushing up with feet, same smooth feeling of the Mana where her feet dug into the rocks. Inhale. Repeat. Less than a hundred yards to the top, and Morgan was in a determined trance. The light of the two moons as they slipped just past high midnight cast her shadow in stark relief on the stone.
Then, sudden darkness, instincts screaming in time with Lulu’s panicked warbling as the scrubby leapt frantically back onto Morgan. A thundering wind and a concussive impact that nearly dislodged her from the rocks, as massive talons slammed into the cliff-face around her before closing. The tips of the solidified knives of darkness left gouges in the stone and gave off sparks as she was gripped inhumanly tightly and yanked away from the wall.
She couldn’t breathe, so tightly did the thing squeeze her. The sharp ridges of the talons cut into her thighs and back and chest, grating through bleeding flesh to scrape against her crystalline bones. Each beat of the massive wings hammered the air with grim intensity as she felt herself lifted up at a ridiculous speed. She reached for her Mana in desperation, but could do nothing with it. Some sort of pressure kept it contained within those nightmare claws, the will of another imposed over her own magic.
Panicked struggling and half-choked screams led to [Spell Surge] and outrage together fueling a momentous effort that helped Morgan bring her own flames sputtering into existence. Fire laced with Lightning snapped outwards to illuminate a huge bird-like form, crafted of feathers and fear. The burst of magic bought her enough space for a mere handful of rapid gasps, pulling welcome oxygen into her lungs before the claws tightened even further. The tightened grip came with another wave of that other will, smothering her own power once again.
Lulu, however, had abilities that were most certainly not constrained by the bird’s magical presence. With a wurbling trill that was half panic and half rage, the loofah launched itself into the feathers on the oversized avian’s underside and began to exfoliate with all its scrubby might. Inky black plumage fluttered down as Morgan’s pet went about its macabre work with vehement enthusiasm. Her captor squawked like a truck-sized chicken on steroids as it suddenly tumbled down towards the craggy brush and trees that carpeted the top of the cliffs.
The loofah’s exfoliating abilities were second to none, and soon blood dripped down with the falling feathers as the disgruntled caws turned to agonized screeches from the tumbling giant corvid. To Morgan’s rune-enhanced sight, the blood hummed with sharp, potent Mana, and time seemed to slow as the glowing liquid flowed down towards her. And when the blood ran down to meet Morgan’s where it coated the talons that had so offensively ripped into her flesh, the two mixed with a crackling glittery glow.
And then it exploded.
Burning blood, feathers, a giant screeching bird, a warbling loofah and one screaming, bloodied sorceress were sent hurtling in different directions trailing smoke and indignation. Morgan’s [Regeneration] ability kicked in the moment she was clear of the dread crow’s overpowering magical aura, and a hastily formed [Wind Barrier] formed a sphere that let her roll across the ground without taking further damage.
The newly evolved [Regeneration] seemed even more efficient at the starting skill level than [Naked Recovery] had been once mastered, and while Morgan could tell she had dipped into her limited fat reserves to knit the wounds and replace her lost blood, it was nowhere near as bad as it could have been. As soon as she could stand, the young sorceress was back on her feet yelling for her pet puffball.
“Lulu!” She could hear excited wurbling making its way towards her through the brush.
Her scrubby hero had not travelled far, and had wasted no time at all before heading for its mistress. Loofah and sorceress were reunited a few moments later, the diminutive puffball once again checking Morgan from head to toe to remove all the blood, charred feathers, and dirt from her naked frame. The puffball returned to her shoulder after reassuring itself that she was all in one piece. The squawking caws turned to coughing in the distance, and then something else reached her ears…
“Is that… Is that words, Lulu?” Both sorceress and scrubby went silent, listening intently. “I think the bird is talking!”
Muffled words in a language that felt familiar, but just escaped Morgan’s understanding, drifted back through the trees, from the direction where singed feathers still fluttered. Most of them surely outraged swearing, if the tone was anything to go by.
“Cad é in ainm dia is an rud sin?!” shouted the now mostly human and definitely feminine sounding voice. And it was getting closer. “Bah! Ní féidir leat mo chuid focal a thuiscint, tá litriú agam!”
“I don’t understand a word you’re sayin’, lady! Why’d you attack me!?” shouted Morgan as she stalked angrily towards the other woman’s voice, a voice soon given form as an elderly woman draped in a cloak of black feathers picked her way through the trees toward the sorceress, aided by a gnarled root walking stick. “Do you speak English? Can you even understand me?” snarled Morgan, still wound up with adrenaline and outrage.
“Amhasóg!” the woman shouted, tossing a small stone at Morgan with a strength and speed that belied her apparent age. Less than a foot from her face the stone burst apart, the ensuing flash briefly lighting up the outline of a complex formation of runes spinning around her head. Before Morgan could even begin to process this, the runes snapped out of existence with a pop. She reeled at the sudden and intense headache that split her skull, but it was gone almost as fast as it had started.
“Of course I understand you, foolish child! If you had not fought, we’d be at my home sharing a meal and a lot of questions right now.” The woman angrily pointed her cane at the loofah perched on Morgan’s shoulder. “And what in the seven hells is that thing!?”
No way, thought Morgan. She’s a witch! And a bitch too, but definitely a witch or sorceress or some shit like that!
“Coulda handled that better yourself, I was only a little ways from the top and you could have waited! Or even thrown a rope or something! And this is Lulu, my loofah scrubby. Show a little respect!” Morgan had given herself over to her vehemence by the end of her tirade, aggressively stepping towards the older woman with more than a little anger and her Mana zapping across her fingertips in a sinister dance.
The old woman raised her cane a few inches off the ground, and then with both hands slammed the tip into the dirt. Morgan felt the ground ripple under her feet and then her Mana simply drained away almost completely, and her sudden anger with it.
“Good,” the witch stated with a humorless grin. “It’s nice to know the blood hasn’t cooled since I left the old lands. Tell me, little Worldwalker, how faires the Eire and old Britannia after all these centuries?”
Morgan was stunned speechless for several heartbeats before suddenly bubbling over with excitement. “Wait what!? A-Are you from Earth, then? Is there a way back? I don’t know what the eye-er or whatever you called it is, but Great Britain is doing just fine as far as I knew before I got here. At least I don’t think they were having anything more than the usual arguments in government that any other country does.” The bare-skinned woman seemed unable to make up her mind between freezing in shock and shaking with excitement, as her brain tried to shift into three different gears at the same time. “Wait! You said centuries!?”
“Slow down, girl. The Eire is just across the water from Britannia. When I came here, the High King had expelled Rome from the kingdoms a mere decade past. But enough!”
The woman turned and pointed through the trees with her cane. “My home is that way, and you should reach it by sunrise if you don’t dawdle. I’d carry you, but your Lulu-” she spat the name as though it were a foul oath ”-already made its stance more than clear on that particular mode of travel.” The old woman shook her greyish-white mane of hair as she shuddered at the memory. “Did the blood not burn true, I would have already eaten ye for that alone, but I suppose I can spare a meal for one of my descendants.”
With that, the woman turned and began to walk away, leaving a naked sorceress sputtering in confusion.
“What do you mean, ‘descendant!?’” Morgan called, staring at the woman’s retreating back like a deer caught in headlights.
“Just what I said, little naked one,” the older woman called back at her. “I left a whole pack of whelps in the old world, and your blood reacted with mine own. It pleases me that our line has not yet faded.”
WIth that the older woman proved finished speaking, as blackness rippled out from her night-feathered cloak to wreath her in shadows that twisted and spun as they expanded into the form of the massive raven. Wings of darkness stretched up before snapping down in a gust of thunder and bent trees as the great bird leapt into the sky.
“She seems like a total bitch, Lulu,” said Morgan, picking her way through the brush and shrubbery in the same direction the raven had flown. The scrubby seemed to mirror the opinion of its mistress, puffing up with a wurble as if it were turning up a non-existent nose in the general direction of the retreating avian.
Even with the moons beginning to set, her rune tattoo allowed her to see the raven descend in the distance. She set off towards it at a light jog, Lulu happily purbling on her shoulder once again now that the immediate danger had passed. It was well past midnight, and the higher elevation and its accompanying chill had begun to give rise to a low mist.
Within the hour the mists had thickened enough to blur the trees even to her magically-assisted eyes, so Morgan did not notice the signs of civilization until her bare feet slapped down onto the smooth paving stones of an ancient roadway. Trees and other flora had intruded upon the worked stone blocks, pushing them up and apart with their slow, inevitable expansions of roots. As she walked along the uneven path, faintly glowing runes and patterns became visible where two or more blocks still touched.
“I guess the enchantments helped the stones resist the trees, but not even magic lasts forever, Lulu…”
Close to a mile along the ruined road, the trees thinned out even more to give way to crumbling walls of actual buildings. The predawn light lent the mists an eerie beauty and a soft glow that played contrast to the looming shadows as Morgan padded deeper into the city. The residual power in the runes etched into the stonework grew stronger the further in she travelled, the workings showing more and more resistance to nature’s eternal assault.
“Whoa,” said the [Skyclad Sorceress], as the sun broke over the mountains and brightened the mists even further. Above the mists that still clung to the lower ruins, a city within the city rose out of the wispy cover. She could see a thin trail of smoke rising from behind the gleaming white structures that made up the ringed division between the two parts of the ruins. “That must be where the raven lady lives…”
The only trees this far into the empty stone settlement grew up from obviously intentional placements, ringed by low stone benches where the soil had been left unpaved to allow them to grow. Ivy and moss and other hard-scrabble plants had managed to find a foothold here, and even thrive in some places, but the interlocking enchantments of the stone construction still held fast this far inward.
The paving stones of the streets had so far been a dull grey, worked smooth but not exceptionally fancy. That changed as she passed under a massive gated archway into the inner district. The streets were alabaster white, comprised of hexagonal marble tiles joined so perfectly Morgan could not feel the gaps even with her bare feet. Most of the buildings here still had an intact roof, with stone shingles in muted tones of matte grey or light brown. She could feel the enchantments layered deep into every stone in the construction all around her. Rusted metal plates, hanging loops of chain, strips of tarnished metal trim -- all told tales of the empty doors and windows and other accoutrements of civilization, long since worn away by the ravages of time.
Heading for the rising wisp of smoke, she eventually came upon a small park -- or was it a monument? -- in the middle of a sort of roundabout that was encircled by a loop of the main avenue. Creeping vines and scattered patches of moss only partially obscured a central fountain, in the middle of which stood two life-sized statues of white stone that still gleamed with protective magics. A man and a woman, standing proudly side by side. The man bore a sword on his hip, with one hand resting on its pommel. The woman beside him looked into the distance, the staff held in her grip capped with a smooth orb, clasped by three metal claws.
Morgan stood before the statues, regarding the man and woman in silence for over a minute, before her contemplation was broken by an impatient tap-tap-tap of wood on stone.
“You’re late! Even without flight I would have beaten ye here, girl.” The old witch turned with a gesture, indicating for Morgan to follow while she continued her grumbling. “I thought I said ‘don’t dawdle!’”
“Well no, you said ‘if’ I didn’t ‘dawdle’ back there,” replied Morgan as she followed the woman into a simple but clean and orderly building that still had an actual wooden door.
“Lies! And slander too!” barked the cloaked magic user, obviously laughing behind the snarky demeanor. “It’s been centuries last I had an ear to complain at, don’t spoil my day with such accusations whilst I’m trying to enjoy the favored pastime of the elderly.”
“Centuries? How does that work? Will I live longer because of magic?” Morgan had so many questions she almost couldn’t decide which to ask.
The woman did not answer right away, instead filling two clay cups with water pulled up from a large cistern in the corner of the simple room. The table she set them upon was a simple but sturdy affair carved of a dark-grained wood. It was well-worn and had a feeling of age and antiquity about it, in similar fashion to everything else in the empty city, but it was clean and serviceable, as were the chairs and the bed. The mattress seemed to be simple animal furs laid over some sort of grasses.
The woman in the raven-feather cloak interrupted Morgan’s stares with a chuckle as she clucked her tongue and spoke. “You tarry when you should not, then rush right to rude questions when hospitality has been offered. Are the old ways truly lost in Breton?”
Suitably chastised, Morgan took a seat once the woman nodded and gestured at a chair. “I’m sorry, but who--” The rest of her sentence died as the woman held up a single bony finger with an irritated look. A magic far too complex for the younger woman’s understanding simply halted the words in her mouth.
“Names have power,” she said, her quiet voice filling the sudden silence. “Do not give yours away so freely. It be certainly rude to ask of mine, before even common courtesy be met.”
A hand passed over both cups left the water steaming hot, then the woman opened a small wooden box and dropped a pinch of what looked like crushed herbs into the liquid. “This is my home,” she said, “and even if the old ways are forgotten in your world, they will be respected in this place as long as I yet live.”
The enigmatic hostess turned away from Morgan to open a standing cupboard in one corner of the room. The inner sides of its compartment glowed with runes holding both Frost Mana and another type that Morgan could not identify, but whose purpose was soon revealed as the woman removed a cloth covered basket and placed it on the table. Another wave of the woman’s hand and delicious scented steam rose from the cloth. The witch pulled back the cloth cover to reveal golden-brown baked rolls of some sort.
The woman sat across from Morgan before continuing. “Eat, drink, and be safe at my hearth, girl. But mind your manners, or be tossed outside where we can resume our first conversation.”
The naked woman found herself once again able to speak, and she eyed the delicious looking bread with eager eyes as the other woman nodded and nibbled on one herself.
“I- uh, thank you…”
“One can learn, it seems. This is most pleasing.”
The warm drink gave off a minty scent and had a similar flavor as Morgan sipped the brew and chewed on a piece of bread. The bread itself was soft and fluffy and the tastiest thing she had experienced since arriving in this world. She ate three more of the delicious rolls; her hostess, two, both chewing with alacrity as if eager to be on the other side of the food. She turned down a fifth treat with a shake of her head and a murmured “Thank you.”
As the woman put the basket back in the cold-enchanted cabinet, Morgan had begun to let Lulu clean the sweet and sticky residue off her fingers. The witch gazed at the pair with curiosity as she sat back down across the table from the young sorceress and her pet.
“So that puffball has uses other than defending you in battle, I see.”
“Oh yes,” replied Morgan. “She cleans anything that’s dirty, whether that’s me or things around me. It seems to be her favorite thing to do, even.”
“Hah, what I wouldn’t give for one of my own then. Are there any more?”
“Well, she was the only one at first, she came alive the night I landed in the tree-”
The woman interrupted her then. “I saw the purple fire light the sky all the way from here. I knew I smelled the fruit of the Tree of Life and Magic in your blood. Amazing that you survived. Or maybe not so amazing...one other ate of the fruit and lived, long ago.”
“You mean the churples?” The confused expression on her conversational partner's face prompted Morgan to elaborate. "I didn't know what to call them, but they looked like something part cherry, and part apple, but purple like a grape. So I called it a churple!”
Her hostess scoffed at that. “Ignorance spawning humor? You certainly are an entertaining one! How many bites did you get down your gullet before the life-fire took you? Kings have been ransomed for a mere drop of the juice…”
Morgan blushed with sudden embarrassment. “Uh, um. I had just taken a skill that burned up all my body’s reserves, and I was starving. I ate the whole thing as fast as I could... and passed out.”
The woman’s face went entirely blank for several long moments save for a single twitching eyebrow. “Were I not able to tell a lie by the hearing of it, I wouldst kill ye for telling one. But you could not have known what you were so gluttonously feasting upon, and I think ye too stupid to make up such a telling.”
“I’ve done a lot of stupid since I got here. I don’t know anything! I’m just trying to stay alive and learn magic so I can find a way home!”
For the very first time, the woman’s face looked shocked. “What do ye mean learn magic? Did the blood not light the way long before ye came to be here in The Wildlands? You be of my line after all; the blood cannot lie. Ye should have been learning the Old Magics before ye first bled to become a woman!”
“What!? Old Magics!? Earth has no magic, it's just old fairy tales and-”
Her exclamation was cut off as the other woman jerked back to her feet with a snarling hiss and seethed, “What do you mean no magic!?!? There was always magic! Ye think I gained my power here?”
“There’s no magic I know of on Earth!” Morgan blurted out, leaning away from the other woman as her [Primal Instinct] slammed the sense of sudden danger into her mind with such power she barely kept herself from curling into a ball and weeping.
“Did the Romans slay our gods, then!?” The rage and grief and shock radiating from the witch was palpable. “We fought them off, were pushing them out of the old lands, until Gywin Hywar showed his traitorous nature at Camlann and we had to flee. The fool, always wanted the Sword. But the Knights…”
“I don’t know much history that far back. I’m not even from England, or Britannia or whatever you called it.” Morgan managed to sit back up as the witch made a clear effort to calm herself. “I’m from a place called America, across the ocean from there, practically on the other side of the world. My parents always said we were pagans or something like that, but we never worshiped any actual gods or anything.”
“So who is King in your lands, then? Does no one remember Pendragon, the High King and his Lady Guinevere?”
Morgan’s jaw dropped in shock. “No. Fucking. Way. King Arthur!? That High King? Excalibur, the Sword in the Stone and all those myths? I’m not sure- no, I know I must be dreaming now. I’m stuck asleep or some shit like that.”
The old witch burst out laughing. “Deny or not, the blood marks ye true. Three bastard whelps I left, with three different childless wives. T’was long before we came here, my King and I, and his Lady. My blood in thine own veins, lit aflame by the Life-Fire of the Fruit of the Tree. Believe as ye will, but ye stand near the heart of High Avalon, granddaughter mine.”
Power rippled out from the witch as she spoke, an assertion upon reality by an ancient will that gelled the air and silenced echoes as she spoke again, transfixing Morgan with a burning gaze:
“I am Moghren, of Clan Le Fay, daughter of Myrrdin himself. The power of my blood burns in thy veins, and it will not be denied.”
|
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|
Terisa Aras lay prone on the top of the western corner tower above the walls of Castra Pristis, propped up somewhat comfortably on the bed of a wagon that had been temporarily commandeered for Dana’s current endeavor. The Worldwalker was attempting to teach Terisa how to use something she had called a rifle, and Althenea’s new form was proving less than easy to adjust to for both parties involved. Her sister’s soul was no longer emanating agonizing pain and suffering, but confusion and indecision had taken their place.
She quieted her mind, trying to slip into her usual focus while looking through the device Dana had called a scope. Unlike the far-sight spyglasses Terisa was familiar with, this one had no magical qualities of its own: instead, it seemed Althenea provided them. This lack of control was beginning to play merry hell with her own class- and skill-related vision enhancements, which she had come to rely on by instinct over the course of decades. Adding to the problems, Althenea’s soul seemed unable to maintain its presence in the rifle, only able to animate it for up to minutes at a time before it flowed back to the other weapon, as water flows downhill.
The Colt, by contrast, was much easier for Terisa to manage. She had long been familiar with various crossbows in use by the different peoples of Anfealt, and while there were differences in the function, the basics of aiming and pulling a trigger were the same. The problem facing them was that Althenea appeared unable to occupy both weapons at the same time. Whichever of the two her sister resided in glowed visibly, strange lines and runes which both Dana and Morgan had claimed resembled what they called “circuitry,” and which both women declared to be cool. Her sister seemed determined to remain in the rifle as long as she was able, only returning to the Colt when forced to do so. But, with a little patience, when the huntress waited for just the right moment, the Barrett was simply amazing. The runes along the stock and barrel glowed, and, more by instinct than thought, she exhaled just as Dana had instructed and squeezed the trigger.
The kick against her shoulder had been enough to stun even Terisa the first time she fired one of Dana’s projectiles. This second time, she was better prepared, and she felt a visceral satisfaction in the weapon’s response similar to her first attempts at learning to fire her bow. The entire weapon seemed to push itself back against her, and the supersonic crack set her ears to ringing. The far side of the gorge, she knew, was just about three miles distant; as she watched through the scope, she counted to just over fifteen before she saw the small plume of dirt and dust marking the impact. As she lay there, the echoing thunder of the shot rolled back over her.
She slid the bolt up and back, ejecting the spent shell from the chamber. The acrid smoky scent of the weapon’s discharge stung her nose, but not in an entirely unpleasant manner. “It smells different from dwarven cannon smoke,” she observed. “Sharper, almost tangy.”
“Yep.” Dana crouched next to her on the top of the tower, spider-like, with her suit’s limbs arcing out from her back and planting themselves in the stonework. The Worldwalker had declared herself Terisa’s “spotter” for the interim while the Huntress familiarized herself with Althenea’s new form. “It’s a different formula than what the dwarves use. Has to be; this application needs different properties. So, what do you think?”
Terisa began easing the bolt forward to load another round, but as she was doing so, the glowing runes along the rifle’s frame faded, and she felt her sister’s presence flow back to the Colt, riding in its holster at her hip. She frowned, pushing herself back from the weapon. “I like it, in theory, but Althenea is having trouble, and I don’t like that.”
Dana retracted the strange single-eye spyglass that was built into her suit’s helmet, turning her head to look back over the main courtyard of the fort below. “I’ve been thinking about that. Morgan uses some kind of spatial magic, I know she does. She has to be keeping those crystals and who knows what else in some kind of pocket space like the bags of holding you guys use.”
“There may be some workable solution in that kind of magic,” the huntress allowed, “but Biggles is a Necromancer, not a mage.” Terisa pushed herself back up to her heels, folding the rifle’s bipod back up against the barrel and returning it to its case. She looked out from the walls, towards the forest to the south. The Titan had been kind enough to move to the treeline, before his uncontrollable drain on magic became a problem to the Expedition. Or, more importantly, before it became a problem for his magically supercharged daughter, she thought. “As for Morgan…” She narrowed her eyes in thought. “She’s already helped me enormously, and now I have to worry about the price for that before I ask for more help with this.”
“I don’t think she thinks that way,” replied Dana. “She’s more wild than she realizes, and I think she just genuinely wanted to help -- as much for her own entertainment as anything else. There’s no harm in asking if she knows of something useful for your sister’s current troubles.”
The rather naked subject of their discussion was currently down in the courtyard, once again speaking with Biggles. Terisa could not make out the words without using her skills, and did not feel the desire to pry. The work of the day was obvious, in any case: the bodies of those killed by Deskren infiltrators had been wrapped in what little cloth the Expedition could spare and then placed on small biers of wood. Terisa and Kojeg had prepared Nessara’s remains together, one of the last comforts they could extend to her. Chadwick’s belongings had revealed no clues as to when the mage had been taken, much to the dismay of the survivors.
As the person in charge of the Expedition and responsible for its well-being, Terisa felt the sting of failure more sharply than anyone else. Despite the grief shared by all, she had more pressing concerns than a funeral pyre. She looked across the rows of tents and wagons, considering their options once more.
“We can’t rebuild the bridge before winter, and there’s no other way to cross the gorge.”
“What’s the shortest way around it?” asked Dana.
“There isn’t one,” Terisa reluctantly admitted. “It’s only mapped out for a few hundred miles to the southeast. To the north, it continues all the way to the ice fields, easily two thousand from here.” She sighed in resignation. “There’s no crossing that would get us back to the pass before the snows.”
“So we’re stuck here? Without any way to help the city? Or even find out if he was lying just to needle us?”
“If we can’t get out of the Wildlands before winter, we’re dead. The sorceress and her father might survive, but they can’t protect or feed this many people.”
Terisa rose to her feet, hefting the case containing Althenea’s rifle form, still surprised but not encumbered by the weight. At least high levels are good for something, she thought to herself. Out loud, she continued talking to Dana as they traversed the top of the wall. “Have you given much thought to how you’re going to deliver on your promise to the dwarves?”
“Not as such,” she admitted. “I’m working on a solution for Althenea’s little split personality problem right now,” replied the Worldwalker, tapping on the metal armor of her left arm with her right hand. An image of both the Barrett and the Colt were suddenly projected within a hovering sphere in front of the two women as they walked. “I think I have an idea that will appease them and get us out of the Wildlands at the same time, but we really need you at full effectiveness as fast as possible.”
“I fail to see how you can help my sister, but I’m willing to try almost anything at this point.”
“That’s where our new friend comes into it,” replied Dana as they descended the steps towards the courtyard. “Have you seen how things vanish and reappear in her hands? She’s got spatial enchantment runes on her uh, belt tattoo. But my sensors can’t get a read on anything more than that because she’s so freaking fast with magic!”
“So you want to do what exactly? Some sort of spatial storage like a bag of holding?”
“Exactly that, yes.” The Worldwalker made a pinching gesture at the image of the two guns, and they merged together briefly before the rifle shrank down and disappeared into the form of the Colt. “If Althenea can’t be in two places at once, then maybe she can just be one weapon at a time, and switch back and forth.” The image of the pistol blurred as she finished speaking, melting outwards to flow back into the form of the rifle.
“I think we can do that!” agreed Morgan, suddenly appearing from nowhere right beside Dana, staring at the image.
To her credit, Dana almost managed to not jump three feet in the air. She turned to face Morgan, and suddenly the air around her glowed, four electric-blue arcs of hard light held in her extra limbs. Terisa had sensed the sorceress’ disappearance from the courtyard, and her high-level tracking skills allowed her to sense her approach. Dana, however, had no such ability, and had been oblivious to her approach.
Morgan thrust her arms out ahead of her in a warding gesture, laughing. “Ha! O-Okay, don’t stab me, please.” Dana withdrew her blades, stowing them back in her limbs. “Man, I was actually hoping you had something like that. Now all we need is for you to call me General Mackenzie.”
The engineer recovered from being startled with admirable speed, suddenly adopting an entirely different stance and brandishing all four of her blades in a far showier display. Terisa glanced from one giggling woman to the other, entirely nonplussed.. “Is this some form of greeting on your world?”
Dana took a moment to catch her breath, putting her limbs away as the sorceress answered with a laugh. “No, just a pop culture reference. Her fusion blades look a lot like the swords from one of our most popular fictions.”
“Different sound effects, though,” remarked the engineer. “I never did figure out how to replicate that sound.”
“So, how can I help you and Althenea?” asked Morgan, returning to more serious matters. “Biggles is getting ready to put the spirits to rest; I think he said he wants to do it at dusk, something about the symbolism being important. But it might be a quick fix; if we get started now we should have time before I have to help him out.”
Dana nodded, fixing Morgan with a gaze. “I know you have spatial magic runes. I want to build a spatial displacement framework into both of Althenea’s forms so she can swap between them without having to bounce back and forth like she does now.” Dana led the other two women towards her workshop as she talked, the hatch before them opening up as she approached. “I don’t have any skills with spatial magic, but I can etch the runes into the metals if you can help with the actual spellwork.”
The mobile workshop continued to shift, plates retracting as the side opened up. A worktable seemed to extrude itself from the wall as segments reconfigured, and Dana’s armored limbs divided again into her more spider-like form. With her hands, she pulled several rectangular objects out of slots along the open wall of the shop. The ends of the metal limbs detached with smooth clicking sounds and the rectangles folded themselves into different tools which soon graced the ends of the shiny appendages.
At Dana’s prompting, Terisa drew the Colt and placed it carefully on the table before turning to open the case of the Barrett once more. “It would be much easier to just have to carry one. The rifle is unwieldy for close combat, and I can’t use both at once.”
“I can’t change the total mass,” said Morgan. “But the weight…”
“The only bag of holding I saw at Thun’Kadrass made things lighter, but if you swung it you could still feel how heavy things were. It was weird,” said Dana as the sorceress trailed off.
“Yep. My own storage runes offset a lot of that in some way, but they don’t ever move.” Morgan turned to present one perfectly shaped hip and thigh, tracing with her finger one of the circular runes that stood out against the tattooed belt arching over her hip-bone. “I’m not sure how the magic handles the inertia, but I can carry several times my own weight between all of the runes. I think that’s a skill effect, and I’m almost certain I can’t reproduce it.”
“I can handle the weight.” Terisa put action to words, hefting the Barrett with one hand before placing it on the table as well. “It’s simply not suited for quickness like the Colt.”
Morgan stared down at both weapons, idly gnawing on one sparkling crystalline fingernail. After a few moments, she said slowly, “What we can do...and the only way I think I can get it to work…” She frowned. “What we need to do is construct a storage lattice around both guns separately, and then link them -- when one is active, the other isn't.”
“Bags of holding don’t take any mana to work, but they’re simply there. Passive. How do you activate a storage enchantment?” asked Dana.
“I’ve seen it done,” answered Terisa. “Quite often. What you saw of Expedition’s fortifications was limited; there’s been no need to bring everything up in several years. Many of the towers along its walls contain much more than what is normally seen from the outside.”
Dana look almost hurt, frowning. “I’ve been trying to get someone to teach me spatial magics since I got here! The dwarves won’t, and you just tell me this now!?”
“The dwarves don’t do much with spatial magic,” Terisa replied. “They’re more about reinforcing stone and metals. Stormbreak Academy or the Magisterium could teach you, but if you don’t have the talent for actual spellcasting, it’s nearly impossible to get into either. Everyone else keeps their secrets close.” Terisa eyed the metal-suited Worldwalker. “You know this better than anyone else here.”
“I know, I know,” she sighed. “It’s just frustrating!”
“I don’t know if I’m the best choice for a teacher,” Morgan admitted, while tracing several runes onto the metal table with one lightning-tipped finger. “I’ve had to figure things out as I go along. I can’t push my magic into the guns; that might hurt Althenea. But this is the most stable spatial enchantment I’ve been able to work out.” She tapped the runeshapes she had inscribed.
“I can etch them into the metal easily enough where there isn’t crystal already inlaid,” replied Dana, looking down at the patterned circles. “Did it hurt her when you worked on your bow before?” she continued, glancing up at the huntress.
Terisa shook her head. “Before, she was simply inside the gem, not part of the bow. That was actually the third bow I had made since her soul was trapped. Now, though...it’s different, and I don’t think she can be taken apart like that without killing her.”
“That may be true for the Colt, it’s got the Titan’s crystal threaded through everything on a molecular level.” Dana held out an instrument of lenses, holding it over the metal slide of the pistol’s action. Terisa could see the pearlescent glow, pulsing like hair-thin wires through the metal, evidence of her sister’s presence. “But the Barrett is only that dense with runic patterns through the upper receiver and barrel. You can still at least partially take that one apart -- and you’ll need to learn how to, anyway, to clean and maintain it. Trust me, Althenea will appreciate it. The bolt and chamber can get gunked up in a bad way if you don’t.”
“Mm.” Terisa nodded. “...Another thing. The Colt doesn’t need…’ammunition,’ did you call it? but the Barrett does. Do you have more?”
“Don’t worry about ammo for the Barrett,” Dana replied, waving her hand dismissively. “I have plenty of standard rounds in the workshop, and we can work out enhanced ammo later on. Kojeg and his brothers may be upset, but I’ll deal with them. If I’m building flying ships for them, ‘they owe me’ doesn’t even begin to characterize our little agreement.”
Terisa nodded, watching as the sorceress traced more runes onto the table. “I’ll speak on your behalf before the Thanes if you need,” she reassured the engineer. “I am indebted to you both for this. Speaking of, Sorceress… Terisa turned to Morgan, shifting her weight. "You have not named a price…”
The woman seemed baffled for a moment. “I, uh… never thought about it?” she offered. “I wanted to meet people, and find civilization. But I had no clue as to how far I’d have to go, so I figured it might be next year before I made it far enough west. I guess, if you want to repay me, you can just help me get out of the Wildlands, and maybe help if I have to fight these guys with the collars.”
“It wouldn’t have taken you a year if you had found the bridge before winter, but it was the only crossing I know of. Dana seems confident she can build a flying ship, though.”
“That’s not confidence, it’s a certainty,” said the engineer. “The only question is the timeframe. We’ll need a safe place to bunker down for a few months, and you’ve told me not even Castra Pristis is safe in the winter.”
“Nothing is safe in the winter,” Terisa replied, “but we can talk about that later. Althenea is getting agitated again, I can feel it.”
Her words were proven as the runes on the Colt flashed and faded, glowing once more along the surface of the Barrett. They pulsed, then flickered back to the pistol before flowing back and forth in rapid succession.
“Okay,” said Morgan, drawing one final circle around both weapons. “If you can copy these runes onto the Colt, I can work on the Barrett. The pistol’s patterns are too small and fine for me to risk it without messing with Althenea.”
“So, these are spatial stabilization runes?” asked the engineer.
“Yes. I broke a lot of clay pots before I figured out you even needed them, but it’s really just like building houses, like my dad taught me. The stronger the foundation, the stronger the house. And if you think about it, this is actually Althenea’s house we’re building.”
Dana leaned in to inspect the runes more closely. “These look more like...circles of several runes?”
“They are!” Morgan confirmed. “Seven spatial anchors in a circle, with the spatial folding points in between. What we’re making is basically two spatial storage enchantments that can invert themselves, I guess you’d say, then we link them. When one is out here, the other will be inside its own pocket space.”
“That is…” Terisa blinked, leaning in to study the runes as well. “I don’t think any mage I’ve ever heard of has even thought of such an arrangement...but I’m no expert,” she hedged. She fell silent, watching as Morgan reached out to touch the barrel of the rifle. Gossamer threads of purple light glowed in faint patterns along the woman’s hand, then flowed down across the metal. The purple stayed between the lines of silvery light that marked Althenea’s presence, carefully tracing their way along the metal to form circular etchings where her sister’s own runes left space on the surface.
Dana was likewise occupied. Two of her metal limbs had folded out into a delicate frame holding up the Colt, and the engineer was biting her own tongue in concentration while tiny needle-like tips raced in sharp, precise motions to inscribe the even smaller workings on the handgun. Althenea seemed even more agitated at first, as evidenced by the frantic flashing and pulsing of her silvery glow. But as the enchantments began to sink into the metal of both weapons, light began to bend around them both like heat ripples on a hot day. Almost as if she could sense the two womens’ intentions, Terisa could feel her sister calm down. Indeed, Althenea appeared to radiate curiosity, eager to see what the result of this new work would be.
The sorceress and the engineer worked in silence as the sun crept closer to the horizon. Less than an hour remained until sunset, and they had gained an audience. Biggles and the beastkin younglings had finished the preparations for the evening’s cleansing ritual and had gathered, as well as Kojeg and Foz. Morgan’s tattoos were eye-catching, glowing in pulsing patterns like fluttering heartbeats painted in flashes of light. Her brow wrinkled in concentration as she neared the end of the spell working, her rune tracings requiring finer detail and smaller circles around the stock and grip of the Barret where Althenea’s runes were more dense.
Dana grunted, risking a brief glance at Morgan. “The spatial runes here -- they’re trying to pull inward, I think,” she said through gritted teeth, sweat beading on her forehead. “We need to link them before they shatter!”
A brief flash of worry caused Terisa’s heart to skip a beat, but the sorceress grinned as magic pulsed palpably in the air around them.
“That’s supposed to happen,” said Morgan with supreme confidence as the last of the runes on the rifle came together in one contiguous pattern. “Leave the linking to me.”
As Dana inscribed the final portion of the runeshape into the Colt’s frame, a writhing contortion of space twisted around both weapons, and she barely snatched her hands and tools back in time before threads of violet and indigo connected Althenea’s two halves. The [Skyclad Sorceress] extended one hand towards each half, her eyes blazing with intensity as the weight of magic before her became a nearly physical thing. “Just…like…” she breathed, as the Colt and Barrett floated into the air, suspended by twisted space and violet magic. With a whump of displaced air and a brilliant flash, both weapons disappeared in the space between two heartbeats.
“--that!” she finished triumphantly, the pistol suddenly reappearing atop the table, as if it had never left. The rifle was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly, the pistol’s runes flared, purple and silver in concert. Another flare of light, and suddenly the Colt was gone, replaced by the Barrett. Once more, and the pistol returned. The runes’ glow pulsed twice, and Terisa felt an almost overwhelming sensation of correctness radiating out from the small gun.
To her credit, Terisa’s hands barely shook at all as she took up the Colt, that sense of rightness saturating her entire being through the contact. At her request, she suddenly found her hand wrapped around the grip of the rifle. Once more, and she once again held the pistol. Rightness gave way to joy, nearly intense enough to drive the seasoned huntress to tears.
She slowly returned the Colt -- her sister -- to her holster, patting it lovingly while giving the two Worldwalkers a broad grin. “This...I cannot thank you enough. This changes everything.”
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 38: Impact Duality",
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Noah Rowland sat in a laboratory, making minute adjustments to a piece of equipment that, to him, bore striking resemblance to an advanced medical scanning machine from Earth. One had to, he supposed, make allowances for the difference in available material; in place of computer chips and circuit boards, glowing runes controlled it. Instead of surgical steel, crystal styluses allowed for manipulation. Rather than plastic, bronze and silver crafted its outer shell. It was beautiful, he thought, shot through with copper conduits to conduct the sensitive magical energies that powered it.
Such thoughts were only natural; he had built it. It had been a laborious process, requiring him to build new tools and learn an entirely new field: magic! Puzzles had long fascinated him, and magic was a puzzle like no other. Except maybe people, he thought to himself with a tinge of amusement. His fellow man remained a mystery that defied all attempts to unravel, here just as before.
It was a pity, then, that the beauty inherent in the construction of the machine was lost on the person strapped to it; Noah’s latest subject, a young man of scarcely twenty winters, held fast by magically-reinforced leather straps. He was whimpering; of that Noah was certain. They always whimpered, and it quickly got to the point where he installed sound-dampening enchantments in the latest iteration of his machine. All in all, an improvement, even if it cost me a week or two. The noisome screams and begging were nothing but distractions -- ones that Noah could ill afford when there was data to analyze.
“So,” came a refined male voice from behind him, “this device will show you more about how the collars work?”
Another distraction; this one less unwelcome, given its identity. Kavnerrin Descroix, grandson of Emperor Descroix, seventy-third in the line of succession, and Noah’s patron and benefactor. Noah turned to face him; so engrossed was he in recording the observations from the magically-projected display that he hadn’t heard his approach.
Unlike most of the Descroix line, Kavnerrin eschewed the gaudy ostentations of rank, opting instead to wear plain grey robes. He also eschewed most jewelry, save for the imperial signet ring on his left hand. This lack of display extended to his overall appearance; while most of the imperial family would adorn themselves lushly, Kavnerrin preferred to go without. He was some form of [Necromancer], Noah was fairly sure, having read through most of the workshop’s library. More precisely, he couldn’t say, but the man had displayed uncanny aptitude with spirit magic.
“Maybe,” Noah hedged. “So far, results have not matched up with the descriptions in your older journals,” he continued, setting aside his irritation at the distraction. “My working hypothesis is that when the original Emperor died at the battle of Oasa, the system itself adjusted its parameters to disallow the creation of any more soul shackles.”
Kavnerrin nodded slowly. “Yes, that was the assumption of our scholars then and now. No one has managed to recreate the originals. Conditioning collars are nothing but an imitation, using pain and pleasure stimulus.” Kavnerrin stood quietly for almost a full minute, rubbing his chin with one hand. “Raising stock from birth with those collars ends with similar results, but the skills and abilities they can learn on their own are vastly curtailed as a result. Soul Shackles let us take new classers of any level, and spread their skills through the Empire.”
Noah nodded; this was nothing he hadn’t heard many times before since arriving on Anfealt. Mostly in passing, of course; his arrival had sparked a quiet war, ever since Kavnerrin heard from the few seers and clairvoyants the Empire had control over that a Worldwalker was due to arrive within the Empire’s territory. He had acted swiftly and brutally, and Noah had found himself captured within minutes of arriving. Two assassinations, two public auctions, four (temporarily successful) escape attempts, and one agonizingly slow river voyage had brought him at last to the docks of Nouveau Deskra, and Kavnerrin’s workshop.
Not to say that Noah was unhappy with his current situation; far from it, in fact. Whatever luxuries he required, Kavnerrin provided; moreover, he was free to work on whatever magical puzzles struck his fancy. He was also freed from any ethical constraints regarding his work; on Earth, the minutiae of law and social mores kept him as shackled as any Deskren slave. It was refreshing, he thought, to finally be able to study anything he found interesting, unconcerned with such trivialities.
He glanced at the display for a moment, to give him time to arrange his thoughts before returning to his patron. “The Soul Shackles, these golden collars...they simply work in ways the system itself prevents anyone from replicating. I can’t directly edit a soul, and I think it’s because the system is stopping me.” Noah made several adjustments to the ring hovering above his current subject, ignoring the blood dripping down where the man had scraped the skin of his wrists and ankles raw trying to pull his hands and feet out of the bindings. He circled the table, tapping his chin and musing, “If we can get someone of a higher level, or with a more unique class and skillset, it should be possible to acquire more data. The precise nature of how the soul interacts with a person’s magic to enable skills and levelling isn’t written down in any of the books you have here.”
After checking the restraints one final time, Noah stepped around the table and held his hand over a burnished silver sphere held within a setting of three silver clasps, like an inverted eagle’s talons. A brief pulse of light shone under his palm, and the table holding the young man pivoted upright as the ring shifted to encircle the trapped form. Kavnerrin watched with intent interest.
“So, if you cannot alter the soul or bind it, what is the purpose of this machine?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “You are not proof from being collared, Worldwalker, and your materials are not without expense even to me. I expect results.”
Noah did not respond, instead simply turning the sphere slightly, adjusting the aperture of the ring around the floating man. It started turning more rapidly as it passed up and down the man’s body, sending sheets of pale, ghostly luminescence through his frame. Soon, his tissues began to glow with a golden light, as if something had been brought to the surface.
“If the soul is the problem, isn’t it more effective to simply disconnect it?” asked Noah.
Kavnerrin frowned, considering the implication. “Without the soul there would be no--”
“No Soul Crime, yes?” Noah suggested.
The light suffusing the man’s body intensified, and he seemed to subtly vibrate as the glowing afterimage almost bent towards the ring. It slid down to his feet and began spinning faster still, emitting a high-pitched, whining hum that made Noah’s ears ache before it quickly faded too high to be heard. Suddenly, the ring rose around the man’s body -- and the golden image came with it, all the way to his head and then beyond. The ring lifted clear from the man’s body, and the golden light condensed into a small orb, suspended in midair. It flickered once, then twice -- then winked out of existence. The man’s struggles ceased, his breathing slowing down to a measured pace.
“I’m not entirely sure where the soul goes afterward, but disconnecting it from the subject’s body gives me a lot more flexibility,” Noah explained. “The soul itself also gives me a wealth of information. Now that I can replicate it in the lab, retrofitting the spell matrix to function alongside your conditioning collars is just math. Someone of higher level might be able to resist, but...given time, the Golden Collars shouldn’t be necessary.”
“Alongside?” Kavnerrin’s expression quickly flickered between horror, disgust, and greed, before settling on elation.
“It should be possible to apply the severing enchantment matrix to existing conditioning collars that are already in use,” Noah confirmed. “I’ll need a few higher levelled test subjects to refine the matrix. I suspect the more powerful the subject, the greater the energy released upon severing the soul from the shell.”
At his command, the table returned to the horizontal. Noah released the shackles from the young man’s form as the rings returned to a resting position at the head of the table. With a disinterested expression, the man sat up under his direction, then smoothly stood and walked to the other end of the room where the Worldwalker pointed. Several other young men and women stood there, faces blank as they waited for orders.
“Apply it to existing collars?” Kavnerrin could barely keep the avarice out of his tone. “Without physically replacing them?”
“Exactly that, yes. The conditioning collars are linked to the control rings -- what you call the ‘leashes.’ The leashes I’ve seen all link to higher-ranked rings held by your peers in the nobility.” Noah made several more notes on a sheet of parchment, not needing to return to his machine’s display to recall the readings it gave while removing the man’s soul. “I presume there is a master leash, of some form or another, yes? One that controls all the collars? With that, I could apply the severing spell to every collar in the Empire at once!.”
Kavnerrin shakes his head in wonder. “It’s not always rings. But the master leash you speak of is the Imperial Scepter, symbol of my grandfather’s authority. It’s a failsafe, so no one of lesser blood may turn their slave stock against the imperial family.”
The prince’s eyes drooped for a moment and he scratched his chin, deep in thought. “To lay hands on the scepter would be...unthinkable, a short trip to a golden collar for myself and my conspirators. Now, if a dozen or so heirs disappear or suffer accidents that may change, but...for now, I’m too far down the list of succession to even consider a bid for the scepter.”
Noah kept working as the man talked, unconcerned with the schemings of royalty. The data he had been gathering on how souls interacted with bodies and the skills of a person had been utterly fascinating, and he motioned for the next subject, eager for more. Two hulking wolfmen stood before a group of chained slaves, golden bands glimmering around their necks. With a low growl of submissive obedience, one of them reached down and picked up a shaking woman by the throat. Her whimpers turned to choked sobs in the beast-man’s grip as his counterpart undid the chains around her wrists and ankles before the two beastkin guards forced her to the table and strapped her down. She began screaming, but the enchantments rendered her silent as she feebly struggled against the straps.
“What benefit would higher-levelled classers bring to your studies, Worldwalker?”
At this Noah brightened, eager to acquire better test material. “Oh, a lot. I’m already learning how skills interact with souls, and more data on different class types would be wonderful. A greater variety of skills, classes...every person seems to be different, although life-long conditioned slaves are limited in their skills.”
The Worldwalker pulled his spectacles off and rubbed them clean with his shirt, raking the fingers of his other hand through unkempt hair. “Some-higher levelled classers would provide wonderful data on how rare and powerful skills interact with souls. If I can get enough data, I should be able to work out how to modify skills without needing to level -- or even make entirely new skills!” Noah could scarce contain his excitement, grinning like a schoolboy.
At that, Kavnerrin couldn’t help but grin himself. “You may be in luck, then. The empire has worked for years to infiltrate the WIldlands expedition, and this year, we’ve finally succeeded. Away from support and help, and unable to send messages back to the city, it may very well be that I can acquire some very unique high-levelled classers for your studies.” Kavnerrin rubbed his hands together, a habit Noah had noticed on the day they had met. “My uncle’s campaign in the northlands has not been as successful as he had hoped...this General character has been gathering the locals to him and leading them back and forth across the Golden Meadows, keeping his men at bay.” He snorted in disgust. “What few classers he has managed to get will be going straight to the imperial stables to breed new lines. The rest are children and the classless.” He shook his head. “But, if my efforts with the Expedition bear fruit...there are many unique classers travelling with that group. I’ve tasked them with capturing that Worldwalker who’s friends with the dwarves, but...they’re instructed to use their own initiative, too.”
“I will continue to collect data as well as I can in the meanwhile,” replied Noah.
“Is my little brother planning sedition or a coup?” The new voice chimed in from the entrance to the laboratory, as its bearer, a woman, strode through the doors. She was preceded by a pair of wolven soldiers, each bearing a drawn sword. Her golden hair fell in thin braids, twisted in a loops and held by a thin net adorned with tiny gemstones woven into the fabric. A hawkish nose and sharp eyes shone with a vicious cunning above a thin figure clad in green tunic and trousers over boots of soft green leather.
“You managed to squeeze some spies into the Expedition and didn’t tell Father?” Her eyes glittered with avarice. “Or, more importantly, Grandfather? I thought you had no ambition, Kavni. And what is this fascinating contraption our friend the Worldwalker has built?”
Noah froze, unable to adjust to rapidly changing environments as quickly as his patron Kavnerrin. The Imperial Prince simply sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“You shouldn’t have come here, dearest Louisa,” he said delicately.
“Oh, come now, Kavni; you don’t think I’ll be telling father on you, do you? I hate him as much as you. It took me an entire decade, and three children, before I managed to poison that geezer he sold me off to.” She shuddered in revulsion. “I had my own dreams other than an arranged marriage, you know.”
Kavnerrin simply stood, rubbing his chin with his other hand on his elbow. “That tells me nothing of why, or even how you are here, where you should not be. You never miss one of the Imperial galas, or an opportunity to show off your daughters before the fawning nobility. Father’s schemes aside, it didn’t stop you from planning the same sort of fates for your own children.”
Louisa twirled, circling the table and its bound occupant and eyeing the kneeling slaves awaiting their turn as experiments. She wandered over to the corner, to inspect the ones standing without restraints.
“Amazing,” she breathed. “They stand like the shackled, but they don’t wear a collar.” She spun to face Noah. “What have you accomplished here?”
Noah opened his mouth, always eager to explain the intricacies of his work to an interested audience. However, Kavnerrin silenced him with a quick gesture, dipping his hand into his coat. He stepped back just as the prince whipped a glass vial to the ground near his sister and her guards. Kavnerrin held up his hand and twisted one of the rings thereon, and a vivid green barrier shimmered into existence around them. From the vial, choking black smoke issued forth, filling the laboratory and clinging to the writhing forms outside their barrier. Where the smoke touched it, it fizzed and spat sparks, the sound putting Noah in mind of breakfast cereal from Earth.
“My own alchemical cocktail,” the princeling explained to Noah, “to neutralize threats. The red mold and parafelis extract cost me a fortune, and a grain of negatite cost three times the rest together, but it’s worth every copper.”
The woman’s guards had dropped to the ground instantly, along with the guards Kavnerrin had stationed in the laboratory himself, and the slaves, and the soul-less husks. The only ones left standing after a few heartbeats were Noah and the two Imperials, and soon only the one Imperial; Lousia’s panicked expression intensified as her own shield collapsed. The black smoke rushed in and Louisa fell to her knees, partially overcome. Even without her shield, she could at least somewhat resist its effect; paralyzed but still awake, she slumped to the ground, eyes wild.
“You really shouldn’t have come here, Louisa,” the princeling said regretfully. “I’ve always said I don’t want grandfather’s throne, and I meant it.”
As the black mists faded away, Kavnerrin waited a dozen more heartbeats before dropping his shield. He wasted no time, executing his sister’s guards with brutal efficiency before they could recover. Circling back around the room, he stood over the woman’s crumpled form. Turning back, he looked at Noah.
“I guess you get a high-levelled classer sooner than you thought,” he said with a smile. “I’ll have to figure out a convincing reason for her disappearance, but our work must not be discovered.”
Pulling a small ebony rod out of his coat, he pointed it at her neck. A glowing green whip of energy snaked out, and with its help, he lifted his sister bodily by the neck. She dangled limply in his magical grasp, fingers and feet twitching in outrage. The woman made strangled whimpering noises, trying to form words as the effects began to wear off.
“I--” She choked the word out as her feet slid across the stone floor. Noah had already begun unstrapping the slave woman from the table, and Kavnerrin’s guards -- now recovered -- reattached her chains after putting her back in line.
“--thought you didn’t want the throne!” gasped Louisa. Kavnerrin stretched her out over the table, cutting her tunic and breeches away, depriving her of any enchantments that may have been woven into her clothes. The sparkling hair-net came last, and Noah set it aside for study. It reeked of magic, and he would not forget to analyze it later. Clad in nothing but her fine silken undergarments, the Imperial Princess finally recovered enough to begin to move -- far too late. “What are you doing?” she asked, horrified.
It was half a question, half a desperate plea for mercy. She began hyperventilating, tugging against the straps, but in addition to paralyzing her, the smoke had cut her off from her skills.
“I don’t want the throne, sister. I want to be a god. And I can’t let you tell anyone what I’m doing before I’m ready, so...thank you for your contribution.”
Before Noah could activate the device, Kavnerrin did so. Reaching out, he charged up the crystal sphere, and a few heartbeats later -- it was over. With a surprised look on his face, he turned to Noah. The shock left him speechless for several heartbeats, jaw hanging open. His expression was ashen, his voice numb.
“You didn’t tell me using the machine would grant a title!”
“I didn’t know it was relevant,” replied the [Mortis Mathematician]. “I didn’t feel anything different upon gaining it the first time I used the machine.”
“You fool!” he hissed. “It’s branded us both with the title of [Blasphemer]! The [Oracle] can see us despite the Elemental Desert’s dead zone now!”
The Dreamer considered for a few moments. “But can she actually cross the desert before spring? The construct will be complete before winter solstice,” he said confidently.
“Rule nothing out with the [Oracle]. We will have to accelerate plans accordingly. And I must hurry to fabricate a convincing scenario for my sister’s disappearance.” He ran a shaking hand through his hair.
In response, the Dreamer merely shrugged. Foresight aside, it did not matter to him. An [Oracle] can’t be more powerful than a god, surely, he thought to himself. Kavnerrin left after directing the guards to clean up, and Noah turned to inspect the data gathered by the machine. Soon he had forgotten all about the title and the Oracle, lost in the wealth of information provided by extracting the soul of a level forty-six [Sultry Enchantress]. His hypothesis had been proven correct, after all, and there was a lot of science still to do.
|
{
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"lang": "en",
"series": "8898",
"id": "27243",
"q": 0.9454545454545454,
"title": "Skyclad - Interlude – The Dreamer",
"author": "a_man_in_black",
"chapters": 51,
"rating": 4.7,
"rating_ct": 120,
"genre": [
"Action",
"Adventure",
"Drama",
"Fantasy",
"LitRPG",
"Mature",
"Mecha",
"Sci-fi"
],
"tags": [
"Accelerated Growth",
"Adventurers",
"Alternate World",
"Beautiful Female Lead",
"Blacksmith",
"Character Growth",
"Divination",
"Dungeons",
"Game Elements"
]
}
|
Morgan Mackenzie was having a pretty embarrassing day. The old witch, Moghren, had proven to be extremely curious about the conditions and limitations of her Skyclad class effects. The nude spellcaster was currently trying and failing horribly at eating soup with a spoon, while the old woman cackled with vicious amusement. Oddly enough, Morgan’s state of undress seemed to interest Moghren the least of all her class quirks.
In between dry chuckles Moghren managed to make various questions and comments. “I have never seen the like, granddaughter. Ye can hold the spoon, and look upon it, yet when ye try to eat thy hands twitch like ye’ve got the palsy!” More laughter followed another failed attempt, as the younger woman almost managed to get a spoonful of stew out of the bowl.
“Ugh!” Morgan exclaimed in frustration as the spoon fell back into the bowl, leaving her fingers numb and twitching uncomfortably. “I’m glad this is funny to you, old witch! I had no idea it would keep me from using spoons and shit! And another thing -- why aren’t you bothered by me being naked?”
At that, the crone’s smile lost some of its hardness.“Old I may be, but no stranger am I to prancing through the woods in nothing but my skin, young one. Warm springtime was the season for wild revel, to celebrate surviving the cold winters and embracing life and lust under the moonlight. No Christian monk is Moghren, to deny the joys of the flesh to any man or woman. Though, mine own age for such things is long past,” she finished wistfully.
“I don’t understand why I’m not embarrassed about it. Back on Earth, I would be scrambling for a blanket or a shirt, but now? Just thinking about it makes me feel uncomfortable and confined.”
Moghren did not seem surprised by this admission, either. “Ye chose the Class, child. The changes be writ upon thy very soul. The choice was made, the consequence accepted, and that choice was then etched into the fabric of thy being. That be how this world works. The rules here be different than the old world.”
The younger woman sat in thought while she gazed down at the spoon with a forlorn expression. Her musings were interrupted as the witch spoke once again.
“Have ye thought to move the spoon with thy magics, child?”
Morgan stared at her elder counterpart, then slapped herself on the forehead at the sudden revelation. “Duh! I should have tried that from the beginning!”
Her initial experiments with the wooden spoon provided no results. “...I can’t feel it with my Mana; it’s not like stone or dirt. There’s grains of Earth in it, but it feels different, somehow. I can’t hold onto them…”
The other woman had nodded as Morgan spoke. “Yes, ye can feel the grains. They be linked with the remnants of Life and Water in the wood. Do ye understand nothing of magic at all?”
Morgan shook her head. “Nothing except what I know from our made-up stories back home, and from things like cartoons-”
“What be these... cartoons?” Moghren asked, with a stilted emphasis on the final word. “The translation spell be quite convenient, but it does not convey all of thy words.”
“They’re like…” Morgan struggled for a moment to explain. “They are drawn pictures shown one after the other really fast, so that the eye is tricked into thinking that they are moving. The difference between one and the next is small, but if you shift through them fast enough, the picture changes smoothly.”
Moghren considered her explanation for a moment. “There be memory spells that come to mind with such a thing. A flickering illusion to show others what one has seen, though it takes a great effort of the mind. Ye might one day cover thyself with such glamours and thine own recollections of garments, but to fool all the ways of seeing, even I cannae do.”
“I’m honestly not as bothered by it as I thought I would be. I am worried about the cold when winter gets here, and sharp rocks and sticks still hurt my feet. But most of the time, it just doesn’t even cross my mind.”
“That be the changes in thy soul, then, and a boon of thy Class. Many men and no few women may leer or jest, but they would do so even were ye clothed. ‘Tis possible it be a thing ye can use to get thine own way with some, if they be childish and so easily distracted.” The old witch’s expression turned to a nostalgic smile. “I distracted many by such means when I were as young as thee. Kings and beggars both can find their words out of reach when blinded by such delights.”
Morgan picked up the spoon once again, letting it rest on her palm instead of trying to actually use it. “So how do I touch the Life Mana you mentioned? I can’t sense it like the Earth, and even the Water is faint. If it was stone I could mold it like clay. Easier than clay. It’s my highest Affinity except for basic Mana.”
“Likely it be the points ye wasted on things other than thy magic. Intellect is by far thy most important attribute, as it is for any Class reliant on magics. All five do far more than the mystic messages explain, though ye would not know that as ye arrived where no one stood to explain.”
“The system notifications?” Morgan asked.
“System. This is a good word,” said Moghren, repeating it as if tasting the meaning. “The language spell I cast upon ye will learn and grow as ye converse with more folk, even though they be far from here. Others can tell ye more, but I can give some small guidance to keep ye from bumbling like a fool.”
“Please!” Morgan exclaimed with obvious relief, sitting up at attention at the other woman’s table. “I don’t really know anything! I put points in Vitality right off so I could survive, but I’ve just been trying to round everything out because I don’t really know how everything works!”
“I would call ye daft, but if one has never been told, I can see how it would be beyond thy ken. It is not so dire a thing, to have a touch of extra Strength and Agility. Especially here in the Wildlands. But Intellect will help all Classes. It does not make one any smarter, not directly. But it makes things more clear in thine own thoughts.”
“So it’s more than just my Mana pool?”
“Far more. It will help ye sort out the different flavors of magic, or Elements as ye call them. It will make thy spells more powerful, of course, but it will also help ye in all things to do with thy mind. Not thinking better, but thinking… More. About more things at once, without confusion.”
“So…” Morgan paused for a moment of thought, going over her own status menu. “I have the ten points from reaching level ten; I never spent them after getting my class. And fifteen Skill points. But the Skills menu says that I don’t have enough points to get any new Skills…”
“Aye. Ye have a Class now. In this world, thy Class changes everything. I myself used to be the [Raven Witch], until I claimed the heart of the First Raven. Now I am the [Midnight Crone]. By slaying my predecessor I gained her immortality, but had to assume her role. I have few regrets, but I be bound to never leave First Raven’s Roost.”
“I thought this was the fabled city of Avalon?”
“The old raven was here long before my King and his Lady and I ever set foot upon this world. How long I know not, perhaps since the beginning of all things. But know this, thy Class is not the end of who ye be. This world's… system… as you call it, sets nothing in stone. Ye may one day become something other than that which ye be now, but be ever mindful of the price.”
Morgan gestured at her bare breasts and then the spoon sitting in her other palm. “I think I’m getting an idea of what kinds of prices the system charges for things…”
“Indeed, child. Tell me, what boons be granted for the price thou hast paid, to be ever clad in sky?”
“Well, from what I can tell it’s mostly in levelling rewards. I get double experience, double the intangible rewards from levelling and system things. So double the Stat points, and Skill points. There’s also something called Enhancement Points, but I don’t know what those are yet.”
Moghren’s eyebrows had risen at the revelation of double experience, but the mention of double Stat and Skill points had caused her expression to go utterly blank. “By the old gods…” the witch whispered almost too quietly for Morgan to catch, before continuing in a clearer voice. “Gaining double experience, even doubled points from earning a level while naked is certainly known. All classes get some small increase to different things. ‘Tis but a pittance compared to thy gains, however. Double? To all?”
Morgan blushed under the sudden scrutiny and stammered her response. “Y-yep! And I level Skills really quickly, too! I have three skills mastered, four if you count my old healing skill before it became [Regeneration] during my Class changes.”
“Those be mighty boons indeed,” said Moghren. “If ye gain twice the Enhancement Points at your half-tens, that will certainly be something few could dream of. Husband those points carefully, girl. At level fifteen, and twenty-five, and so forth, we receive but one. Specializations for thy Class at every tenth level, so twenty and thirty. Those will depend on what ye practice or what skills ye use the most, but Enhancement?”
“What do they do?”
“Those points be for making one of thine own Skills more than it is. A mere half-dozen is all most would earn in a lifetime. As the [Midnight Crone] I no longer level, likened to the beasts and other great creatures of this world. Yet before I claimed the Heart I knew but seventy and three, and only six points of Enhancement. A single point can be spent on a mastered skill, and they can evolve a simple [Fireball] spell into a blast to shatter a castle’s walls, or [Healing Touch] into a near miracle.”
Morgan let out a low whistle at that new bit of information. “So what different kinds of spells are there? When I set myself on fire that doesn’t feel the same as a skill or a spell. It’s not even named in my list, it’s just something I do without really thinking about it. Not like [Lightning Bolt] or [Earth Sculpt] or [Plasma Glaive].”
“The fire is thine own purest essence of power and magic. Most who strive to learn any form of magic can do similar, although they train first to control such wild burning of Mana. T’would damage or destroy their own clothing and equipment if they did not.” The [Midnight Crone] locked eyes with Morgan and the girl could not turn away her own gaze. “Thou hast no such limitations, child, and take these words to heart if none other. Find every way thou can to turn the banes of thy class to thine own advantage.”
“I don’t-” Morgan stammered. “I don’t understand.”
“Thy increases in attributes and skills and levelling is a mighty boon, but compared to even middling enchanted gear on most experienced Classes, thou wouldst still be at a disadvantage. Most who take to battle will be fully adorned in the tools of their own trades. Ye carry no charms, no trinkets, no focusing crystal nor athame. They shall be clad in layers of armor, sheathed in enchantments to strengthen, protect, and enhance their own abilities.”
Moghren pushed herself back from the table and stood, laying her cloak across the back of the chair. "Mine own Night-Feather Cloak. Arrows find it difficult to find me through its shroud, and the winds stand aside as I pass."
With the cloak removed, multiple pieces of ornamentation were revealed. With slow, sure, deliberate movements, the crone began removing them, laying them on the table.
First to meet the wood was a bracelet, wrought from twisted copper, from her left wrist. "A shield charm. It doth not even require mine own Mana to protect me from blows that be not magical." From her wrists and forearms, several more join its likeness. "Here be a half-dozen. Even more have I, simple as they are to make. Useless to thee."
Three silver rings with pale grey chunks of Mana Crystal set in each came off her fingers, clattering to the surface. "Mana Wells," she noted. "Each can replenish mine own magic reserves once entire, and take but a day before they may be used again."
From around her neck, Moghren removed a simple circle of leather, strung with several thin crystals. "A spellcatcher. Toss thy thunder or flame at me, and I shall return it tenfold."
Morgan watched the pile of jewelry grow, muted shock rising inside her.
Two thicker bands around the witch’s biceps were the next to join the growing pile. "A matching pair. Constitution and resistances are far greater, as long as ye wear both."
Finally, the old woman picked up her stick from where it rested against the table. It seemed to twist in a familiar way as Morgan's eyes passed across it. She gasped, bringing her gaze up to meet Moghren's knowing eyes. "Is that--"
"Recognize it, do ye?" the crone chuckled. "Yes, this is a root of the very tree ye landed in. It may negate magic across a wide area, and it is mine favored focus for spellwork. Among other things," she continues, an edge entering her voice. "Its other secrets are mine alone."
Moghren fixed Morgan with a calm stare. “All of these, either made by mine own hand, or earned as favors, then bent to serve or enhance mine own magics. This is what thou hast, all unknowing, traded away.”
Morgan stared quietly at the items, deep in thought as Moghren re-equipped herself with her favored gear. Lulu had hopped off of her shoulder and tried to inspect the various items before the elder spellcaster shooed her back with a wave of a hand. The precocious puffball gave an offended purbling trill and returned its attention to its mistress, who was had begun rubbing her face and bore an expression somewhere between sadness and despair.
“I think-” Morgan felt as if the little bit of soup she had managed to eat was about to come back up. “I think I made some terrible mistakes, then…”
The witch snorted without sympathy at Morgan’s self-recrimination. “Never think that. This world may levy a price for everything, but it is always fair. What thou hast given up, ye will find returned to thee in some way. I sense potential in thee that burns brighter in sorcerous power than I have seen in any but a mere handful of others, in nearly sixteen centuries here.”
“But how can my spells and stats compete with all that specialized gear and enchantments?”
“Do ye not realize that that rune upon thine own breast means?” asked Moghren with an expression of incredulity on her face. “That,” she said, pointing at the [Soul Anchor] rune on her bare chest, “allows thee to craft [Living Runes] upon thyself. Ye know it not, but such a thing should not be possible! Not even on this world of Anfealt! Enchantments do not level, not any that I have ever seen nor even heard whispers of, though many have attempted to create such!”
“I’m not even sure what that means!” exclaimed Morgan, leaning back away from the intensity radiating off the other woman. Moghren seemed to loom even while sitting in the chair across the table, and Lulu once again hopped onto the table in front of its mistress. The scrubby puffed up as if warning the witch away.
“Be calm, little creature,” said Moghren. “Thy mistress has naught to fear from me -- not since the blood marked her kin -- but Moghren coddles no one.”
“It’s okay, Lulu,” Morgan said as she picked up the scrubby and gave it several affectionate pats before placing it back on her shoulder. “I don’t think she means to be so scary, she’s just powerful and does it without realizing…”
“Indeed,” said the old witch with a nod of appreciation for Morgan’s sideways compliment. “Ye have thine own aura of power, though ye know it not quite yet. A presence that can be sensed thusly may be a bane or a boon. Lesser creatures will avoid the threat, but greater ones may hunger for a taste of thee. I sensed it ere ye crossed the river; t’was only the perception of food at first that drew my Raven form to pluck thee from the cliffs.”
“What!? You mean you really would have eaten me!?”
“Had the blood not marked ye mine kin? Most certainly, as I have done to many trespassers these centuries past. Mine Raven half has needs of its own, as part of the bargain I struck so long ago. Thus is the price of power, and why ye cannae stay near Avalon beyond a day or so. The Crone still hungers, and I prefer mine solitude.”
Morgan eyed the older woman with no small bit of suspicion, and more than a touch of disappointment at that revelation. “I was beginning to hope I could stay a while so you could teach me magic…”
The older woman shook her head in bemusement while smiling grimly. “I can no more teach thee than I could teach a fish or a cat. And thou hast no need; thy class is built to learn. Trust in it, experiment on thine own.”
“More things I don’t understand…”
“A sorceress of any kind is not like a [Mage] or [Wizard], and even more different from a [Witch] or [Druid]. They are the rarest of all the spell-weavers. Mine own cantrips, rituals, and nature magics would be useless to thee. Advice be all that Moghren can give, and ye would be wise to take it to heart.”
At this Morgan sat up straight and paid rapt attention. “Please. I don’t want to just stumble around fighting one thing after the next and barely surviving.”
Moghren scoffed at that. “Tsk!” she clicked with her teeth. “The Wildlands be the wrong place for that way of thinking, granddaughter! Tis not called The Wild Lands for naught. Dangers beyond counting lie in wait in the forests and mountains and swamps, and mortal peril stalks the meadows and the plains.”
The old woman shook her head grimly and continued. “All the old nightmares of the ancient tales, and new ones twisted beyond even mine own imaginings. What does not seek to devour thy flesh will want worse; to consume thy magics and power. And a few will seek to take a fertile one such as thee for breeding, such as the Nagai far to the east.”
Morgan blanched at the last statement. She had been travelling east before the wolves diverted her path during the chase. “That sounds more than unpleasant.”
“Aye. At least the beasts merely want to eat and grow. Most tribes of the merfolk are peaceable enough, but the Nagai would claim you for the breeding pens. Ever do they seek to spawn more magically gifted offspring. Thou wouldst make a prize for Kings amongst their people, and the songs of their Sahn Rhen Priestesses would have ye spreading thy legs right willingly for their hordes of Mage-Priests seeking to sire the next King of the Waves.”
Sudden nausea caused Morgan to shudder involuntarily. “I’d rather be eaten,” she murmured.
“Goblins would do the same, though no offspring would come of it. They would merely take thee for the fun of it, so always be wary of those nasty bastards. They cannae sire offspring on human women, but they love to try. They are rare in the Wildlands, thank the old gods. The Packmother and her children do not tolerate them, nor do any of the others whom hold territories such as myself.”
“Is there anywhere safe in this world!?”
“Phtah!” Moghren made a vicious chopping gesture to the side with one hand. “Disregard such a naïve notion! Safe is a word for children and the simpletons who drool and stutter. As it was in the old world in my time, and such is it now and always in this world; the strong take unless prevented by the strength of others. I hold First Raven’s Roost by mine own might and cunning; yet, one day, another shall take it from me. This is the way of the Wildlands, and the lands of mankind far to the west be no different no matter the fancy words they call it.”
“That sounds…” Morgan wanted to argue the point, but her words died in her throat. “No, that sounds about right. My own country on Earth pretty much does the same thing. No one can truly challenge us except for two or three countries, and everyone else usually keeps their heads down hoping the big guys don’t have a brawl.”
“That is the way of history since the beginning, child,” Moghren replied, not unkindly. “Titans move and the weak either serve, or hide and hope to go unnoticed, whether it be nations of men or beasts in their own lairs. But the Wildlands has its own Titan that breaks the cycle. Ye came upon the crystal grave in the shadow of the cliffs, yes?”
Morgan remembered the massive bones of the great beast with a vivid clarity, and nodded the affirmative. “Yeah, I don’t want to meet whatever killed that thing.”
“The [Crystal Titan] sleeps under the Tree. The tree withers and blooms according to its own seasons, but when it is in bloom, the Titan roams. So it has been for over a dozen centuries. He arrived in the same fashion that thou didst appear, near the tree. And he, also, ate of the Fruits.”
“Wait! My bones are crystal now! Am I going to turn into some giant crystal monster!?"
“Rest thy mind, child, and be easy,” said the older woman. “If that were to be, t’would already have happened. The magic I see in thy bones is calm and settled, and I suspect any changes to be wrought are hence done. But the Titan…”
Moghren sat back in her chair and looked at the naked sorceress for a long quiet moment before continuing. “The Titan arrived long ago, less than half a century after myself, although our paths did not cross until centuries later. He partook of the fruit, and he did not stop at one. These lands were not the Wildlands then. After the High King died, the lesser kingdoms under the banner of High Avalon scrabbled for his crown, and that tale is not for the telling today.”
The witch sipped from her cup before speaking again. “The Titan cleanses this land every few score winters. The beasts he leaves alone, unless they challenge, but the evils of thinking beings? The malice of dark intent? They drive the Titan mad. ‘Tis the Titan that keeps these lands unsettled with his migrations. If the Tree be awakened, the Titan follows soon. Months away at least, but always within a year of the Tree bearing Fruit.”
“What does the Titan do?” Morgan asked, entirely enthralled by the woman’s storytelling.
“He devours malicious magic. Thy sorcery emanates the flavors of thine intent. The primal magics of the Wildlands make creatures grow strong and mighty. Enchantments and spells be wrought from things that grow here that be much more powerful and pure in magic than in most places on this world, and power draws the ambitious both for the sake of good and evil works. If mine own domain be the Wind and the shadows of Night itself, his be Earth and righteous fury.”
“So I should definitely stay away from whatever he is…”
Moghren looked at her as if she were a silly child once more. “There be no staying away. If his wanderings bring him near thee, thou wilt either be devoured or left in peace. Neither mine own power, nor the Packmother’s, nor that of the Mountain Stagg or any of the other territorial lords of the Wildlands could stop such a force. The [Crystal Titan] is other. None know the measure by which he judges, but t’was he that broke the Nagai as a people almost a thousand years ago when he devoured their last King of the Waves. Mine own belief is that it was because they were sacrificing their own children upon the altars of power, seeking blessings from dark gods.”
“So he goes after the truly wicked?” Morgan asked. “That doesn’t sound all bad. Scary, but not all bad. My dad and brothers are like that; they’re soldiers in the military back home. Or dad was before he retired, my brothers still serve though.”
“The wicked, the malicious,” Moghren agreed. “When the veil between the worlds weaken and vile demons walk the world, the Titan seems to seek them out above most others. But no-one can truly predict him. There are countless sites similar to the crystal grave thou passed through below, scattered throughout these lands. He devours those who challenge him as easily and readily as those he hunts in earnest. And there are broken ruins of settlements where nations from elsewhere attempted to tame the WIldlands. You will find them, if you wander long enough. And the Titan will find thee, if he so desires.”
“So all I can do is be wary, and don’t attack him. How would I even know what he looks like?”
Moghren chuckled at the younger woman’s seemingly casual attitude about such a powerful being. “Thou hast the right of it, truly. Ye can do nothing if the [Crystal Titan] seeks the ending of thy Story. But knowing him by sight is easy. A massive man-beast he be, of twisted scars and muscle. The crystals grow out of his body, adorning his brow and his hands and feet with armor most lethal and savage. Hunched over, he lopes on his feet and hands, as if a man were become a bear but halted the change half-finished. Three times the height of a man, and the Earth itself ripples with power for leagues when he wanders.”
Morgan’s empty belly chose that moment to interrupt their conversation with a low rumbling growl. The climb, and the short but fierce early morning battle had not dipped into her caloric reserves all that badly, but she was still very hungry.
“Please,” Morgan pleaded with an embarrassed look in her eyes, as she gazed longingly at the bowl of stew. “I don’t want to lick it up off the table like a dog, and I don’t think I’m gonna manage to levitate a spoon in one morning. And it smells so good…”
Moghren chuckled with low mirth before standing and turning back to one of the cupboards along the wall. “If mine own nature could bear the company t’would almost be worth it to keep ye about, if only for amusement at thy plight.”
Morgan gawked as the other woman’s hand seemed to disappear into thin air upon reaching into the cabinet before Moghren withdrew a handful of some sort of bread rolls or biscuits.
Moghren tossed her a biscuit to sop up the stew with, then sat the others on the table. “Saw that look, did I. Storage Box enchantment, similar to Bags of Holding and other weavings that alter the shape of a space. Spend those points ye hold on thine Intellect, and perhaps we shall see if ye can learn how to weave one, an I shall try to point the way.”
Morgan let her questions wait upon that assurance, and set about devouring the stew by scooping it up frantically with torn chunks of bread rolls. She had no idea what kind of meat it contained, but the savory flavors and pieces of what seemed to be halfway between a potato and a turnip were just what she needed. Burnt lynx and roasted eel had been filling, but were not the sort of meal she would ever have picked had she anything else to choose from.
Soon the stew was devoured, and washed down with a hastily levitated globule of the herbal tea-like concoction Moghren had served earlier. Lulu happily scrubbed the remaining mess from Morgan’s fingers and then set about cleaning the table and the bowl, as the loofah’s mistress had still managed to spill some when she tried to hold the bowl with one hand to facilitate scooping.
“That is a fascinating creature,” said Moghren wistfully. “How did ye come to acquire such a pet? I have never seen its like in all my years.”
“Um. This is Lulu. She came here with me. But she wasn’t alive then, that didn’t happen ‘til I ate the fruit and burned all night. I woke up and had notifications that a scrubby had gained sentience. Something about ambient mana and local conditions. And then the messages asked if I wanted to adopt it as a pet, and I did!”
Lulu purbled and preened at the attention while its Mistress recounted the scrubby’s origins. If cleaning was the puffball’s first and highest calling, then adoration and attention ran a close second.
“A new kind of creature, then, and the first of its kind. There be Classes that tame or talk with beasts and creatures of all sorts that could help thee learn more from it. Beware when thy pet spawns a brood, for an Originator gains blessings from the Mystic, that which ye named System. It will breed unchecked for a time, until a steady populace be achieved.”
“Uh… I think she kinda-” Morgan stuttered. “She already did. It gave her a title and everything, Loofah Prime. For spawning ten thousand descendants, I think? Yeah…”
Moghren laughed with genuine mirth at that admission. “Precocious puffball indeed! I shall keep an eye open for such as thy Lulu’s offspring. I spend most of my time as the raven, but someone to talk to from time to time is a blessing I shan’t turn down. At least it did not appear edible to mine other eyes, unlike thine own pretty self.”
“That is so creepy!” breathed Morgan. “What is it about eating people?”
“People be food like any other, to the denizens of the wilds, and mine feathered form is no different. I do not control the Raven, girl-child. It is a partnership. Our bodies may be one since I consumed the Heart, but I have mine own needs and so doth she.”
“I think I understand. So that’s why I can’t stay here?” asked Morgan.
“Indeed. I shall leave to hunt and feed this eve. T’will be safe enough in this abode, but risk not a jaunt outside until I return in mine own form. Tomorrow thou must be gone from this place. The Crone sees all that moves upon or near the Roost, and she was denied her rightfully hunted meal when thy blood proved ye kin. I will not be able to turn her from the hunt a second time so easily.”
Morgan sat deep in thought for over a minute, absentmindedly petting Lulu as the loofah polished and cleaned the tabletop while emanating contented purbles. “Well,” she said as she plucked the scrubby off the table and returned it to her shoulder, “I guess I’m ready to try to learn that storage enchantment before you go hunting. I wish I could stay longer, but I understand.”
Moghren stood, once again draping the feathered cloak about her shoulders before plucking a small leather pouch off of a shelf above the fur-covered bed. “All I can give ye be a night of safe rest, child. I suggest thy heading be westerly on the morrow. A few thousand leagues to reach the mountains, and on the other side, the nations of men still squabble. At least, it was so last I were able to travel beyond the Roost.”
“So that’s where people are?” Morgan asked as she followed the older witch outside. “And a few thousand leagues? That could take me years to cross! Is there any way I can get wings like you? The class avatar when I made my choice had wings! But she said I had to find them on my own. That trolling bitch!” She spat the last words remembering her shocked disappointment.
Moghren snorted again as they walked towards a broad intersection that opened up where several stone-paved avenues met. “There be many ways to gain such a thing, but none be easy nor simple. An Angel’s Feather could grant ye the gift ye wish for, or a Demon’s Bargain, but the price of either be great and terrible upon one so young as thee.”
“Do I even want to know what I would have to give up for either of those?”
“The Angels would have thy soul bound to light an no longer serving thine own will, and a Demon powerful enough to grant thy wish would demand ye rut with him and his brethren. Thou wouldst be granted wings to fly, ‘tis true, but birthing a demon’s spawn would end thy Story right quickly.”
Morgan crossed her arms and shivered out of horrified reflex. “Those can’t be the only ways! Surely the Class thing wouldn’t have teased me like that!?”
“There are other ways, but thou hast chosen to forego all clothing. Ye cannot wear a winged garment or enchanted robes, not even the [Sandals of Hermes]. Even Divine Artefacts are barred to thee, and shall never cover thy skin. I can see the etching upon thy Soul, even if ye cannot, and thou art Clad in Sky from now til time’s own ending. Rarely have I witnessed such absolutes, yet it is become as much a certainty for thee as it is for the sun to rise in the east.”
Moghren stopped in the center of the intersection, as far away from the ancient buildings as was possible to stand. Morgan stepped closer to watch the old woman open the small leather pouch and turn it inside out before continuing her own questions.
“So what are the other ways? How did you strike your bargain to become a raven? Can I learn shapeshifting magics?”
“There be scant few who can truly shapeshift,” Moghren responded after a moment’s thought. “Less than a score I have ever met in all my years. Some older [Druids] manage to learn it, but without assistance from greater beings, it requires giving up a portion of thy sense of self. Ye could take mine own wings, were ye strong enough and willing to be bound to the Roost.” She paused, then shot Morgan a poisonous look. “If ye intend such rudeness however, speak now, and my Raven shall feast on thy bones this night.”
“Oh God, no!” Morgan backed up a step. “No, I don’t want to fight you or anyone else! Or be bound anywhere! And I really don’t want to be dinner, please…”
The old crone looked at her descendant and through her, her gaze ranging back through uncounted centuries. “With wearing an enchanted artefact barred to thee, I can think of only two ways ye could achieve such a thing. For wings on thy back, t’would needs be grafted directly into thine own flesh and Soul. Such a weaving of Magic and Soul thou would find only agony in the doing.” She shook her head, as if banishing the thought. “Thou art far too new to thy class, too young. T’would scar thy mind and leave thee broken and drooling. With time and another dozen levels or so, perhaps, possible. But not soon, not by any measure.”
“And the other way?”
“A Divine Blessing. I...cannae help ye there. Moghren bows not to the godlings of this world, not even after all these centuries. Now,” said the [Midnight Crone] as she held up the leather pouch, “enough of wings ye cannae make use of. Spend thy hoarded points upon thine Intellect, and pay attention as I weave the workings for an enchanted pouch. Thy first attempts shall likely prove volatile failures, but I have faith in thy blood, if nothing else.”
Morgan did as the old witch requested, and waited for her head to clear from the rush of increased Stats. Once done, she checked her status menu, waiting for her Mana to swell to match her new capacity.
Status Information for: Morgan Mackenzie
Level - 10
Primary Class: [Skyclad Sorceress]
Secondary Class: [Locked]
Health - 250/250
Stamina - 280/280
Mana - 310/310
STR - 20
AGI - 20
CON - 20
VIT - 28
INT - 31
Stat points available to distribute: 0
Current Skills:
[Primal Instinct]
[Acceleration]
[Athleticism(Lvl 3)]
[Regeneration]
[Fade Presence]
[Spell Surge]
[Resistances]
-[Pain Resistance(Lvl 9)]
-[Heat Resistance(Mastered)]
-[Frost Resistance]
-[Lightning Resistance]
-[Mana Resistance(Mastered)]
[Affinities]
-[Mana Affinity(Lvl 6)]
-[Frost Affinity]
-[Fire Affinity(Lvl 2)]
-[Heat Affinity(Lvl 2)]
-[Water Affinity]
-[Lightning Affinity(Lvl 2)]
-[Earth Affinity(Lvl 5)]
[Spell List]
-[Mana Pulse(Mastered)]
-[Spell Channeling(Lvl 5)]
-[Lightning Bolt(Lvl 3)]
-[Frost Bolt]
-[Flame Bolt]
-[Water Bolt]
-[Hailstone]
-[Wind Barrier(Lvl 2)]
-[Candleflame]
-[Earth Sculpt(Lvl 8)]
-[Earth Wave]
-[Plasma Glaive]
[Runic Enchantment]
-[Candleflame Rune]
[Living Runes]
-[Soul Anchor]
-[Mana Sight]
Skill Points available: 15
Enhancement Points available: 0
Titles, Mantles, and Aspects
[Worldwalker(Title)] - You have travelled through the void between the many worlds! Every world is different, each with its own gifts and dangers. To help you survive strange new places you gain a slight boost to health and an increased ability to learn new things! (+50 to Health, +50% increased gains to Skill Experience)
[Blessed of the Guardian Tree(Title)] - Through an offering of the blood of your enemies you have reawakened the ancient tree! You need never fear its hungry roots! Future offerings or actions that benefit the tree may enhance this Title!
Class Traits
[Skyclad] You are clad in the sky itself, forfeiting items, clothing, and equipment in exchange for the unrivaled power of purest Sorcery. There are no barriers between you and the magics of the world. Items will no longer equip; in exchange, intangible gains are substantially increased.
[Sorceress] Your pathway to magic and power is Sorcery itself. Needing neither incantations nor blood nor prayer, you wield the flows of Mana directly by your own will.
Then, with the enhanced ease with which she could sense the workings of Mana woven by the old witch, and further improved by her [Mana Sight]-enchanted vision, Morgan watched.
And Morgan learned.
|
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"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 15: First Raven’s Roost",
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|
Morgan Mackenzie was experiencing something that she had never before experienced. Absolute serenity. Or as close to it as it’s possible to get, she mused to herself. She stood upon ground that was not ground. She could feel smooth loamy dirt beneath her bare feet, but she could not see it. Or anything else, for that matter.
But the darkness did not feel oppressive. It was serene, calming, like a warm blanket on a cold night. For the first time in days, Morgan did not feel naked, even though she still was. There was an expectancy in the air, like something was about to happen. But she did not feel frightened by it or rushed or anything else. Merely calm. Whatever is supposed to happen will happen in its own time…
After a period of time that could have been a few seconds, or an eternity, the darkness receded slightly as Morgan received another notification:
Class Selection Curation commencing…
Choosing your Class is a commitment to a life-long path. This Choice is permanent, and may not be undone! If you find none of your available options acceptable, you may delay Selection until you meet conditions for other Classes.
The area around Morgan brightened further, gently illuminating roiling black mists that retreated away from her to form a dome nearly thirty paces across. As the wall of mist retreated, a portion remained directly in front of her. It swirled and spiraled around itself in eerie tendrils to form a vaguely humanoid shape. As the shape coalesced into more detail, it seemed to solidify. The coal-colored shadow gave way to flesh tones starting at the feet, rippling upwards until suddenly Morgan was looking at…
Morgan. Or a nearly perfect copy of me, thought the original Morgan. Other-Morgan stood perfectly still as they inspected each other, while Morgan herself shifted awkwardly in sudden nervousness. They were exactly the same yet, somehow not. This other woman seemed wild, almost feral. Her hair was tangled and frazzled, with grit and small bits of twigs and leaves caught in it. She stood on the balls of her feet with her knees bent slightly as if she were about to spring in any direction. Her intense blue eyes never blinked as they roved up and down Morgan’s own body, rapidly flicking about as if watching for danger from any possible direction.
Those were not the only changes, however. Morgan had never been overly obsessed with her body image beyond her lack of curves, but compared to this Other-Morgan she suddenly felt soft and flabby. Her doppleganger’s breasts were larger, just big enough that gravity was noticeable in the sway as the other woman took slow deep breaths. Morgan would have felt jealous of that alone, but it paled into insignificance before the rest of the differences. This reflection of Morgan had muscles. Not big garish oversized muscles, but a wiry toned body like skin stretched over whip-cord steel. There was little softness here, aside from the natural femininity that was only magnified by the rest of the physique. Other-Morgan’s lean abs and belly flowed down to the natural vee shape that Morgan herself had only ever dreamed of showing off at the beach. She has a freaking eight-pack, thought Morgan.
It was not a musculature for showing off, though. The woman’s skin was marred with scars, and the rope-like tendons of her arms flowed into bony wrists and battle-worn hands with jagged elongated nails. Her feet were dirty and stained and in a similar state, toes splayed out like talons gripping the earth for better purchase.
Both Morgans studied each other for a long moment before another notification interrupted:
Before making this irrevocable choice, know thyself!
Morgan wondered for a split second if the Other-Morgan received a notification as well, but all doubt left her mind when her altered reflection hissed and dropped into a crouch while looking up and around frantically. The sudden movement startled the original Morgan, and she stepped back a pace and held up her hands in a peace-making gesture.
“Whoa, hold up it’s okay! Its okay!” she said to the frightened alter-version of herself. The feral woman bared her teeth at Morgan while gliding backwards with cat-like grace. Arcs of energy began to crackle threateningly around her hands, which the woman had raised up into a defensive position. Morgan resisted the urge to draw up her own power as she slowly backed away another step to give her other self some more space. She lowered her own hands and turned them palms out towards the wild version of herself and spoke again in slower, softer tones.
“I don’t wanna fight you, girl…”
“Nnnnnnnn!”
The other woman seemed to be trying to force a word past her clenched teeth, or not to know how to say the word in the first place. Then those wild eyes went wide and the woman swayed as the sparks fizzled out around her hands, before she shook her head and resumed her defensive stance. “Nnn-” she tried again and then took a deep breath. “No! No fight.. Talk-”
“You understand me?” Morgan asked, relieved that she wasn’t trapped in some sort of death-match with her mirror image. Probably not a death-match then, she thought. Maybe. I hope…
The other woman seemed relieved, if her shift in stance back to a more relaxed but wary posture was any indication, while nodding her head happily up and down. “Talk is...” the woman continued to struggle as if she knew the meanings but not the words to convey them.
“...hard. You speak give words!”
The last part snapped out like a plea or a demand, Morgan could not be certain which. “You want to talk but don’t know the words?” she asked the other woman.
A triumphant smile changed Other-Morgan’s feral appearance to one much brighter and less savage, almost innocent and completely without deception. “YES!” she beamed at Morgan. She bounced from foot to foot happily for a moment then tried to talk some more. “You un- unner… no.” Another deep breath followed. “You. Understand. Good. Gooder? No... please. Talk. More words. I learn.”
The original Morgan stood in confused thought for a moment while the other-her pulled at her tangled mat of messy hair in frustration, before speaking up again.
“You learn to talk better when I talk with you?” Morgan said.
“Yes yes!” The other woman seemed almost giddy and did the quick dance again. “Talk more!” the Other-Morgan demanded eagerly.
“I have no idea what to say, though. Should I just ramble? And why do you look like me?” responded Morgan. The exuberant happy radiating off her other self was contagious somehow, but then everything about this strange manifestation had been extremely intense, as if the other woman was incapable of holding back her expressions. The next thing the doppelganger said made total sense given the situation, but was still a shock for Morgan to have it confirmed.
“Not look like Morgan. Am Morgan. You Morgan, me Morgan. We am Morgan.”
“I think I understand! Are you some possible future me? Some way this world works with its magic and levels that we don’t have back on Earth?” Morgan asked, thinking it may be some sort of test or kind of spirit walk like in the movies. Pop culture for the win! she thought, until the wilder woman’s entire demeanor changed.
The other woman looked at her with an expression like she had just smelled something gross and unpleasant. “No stupid!” Other-Morgan said, stomping one foot like a young child in a tantrum. “Not future Morgan. Now Morgan. Always Morgan! Talk more! Then Morgan tell… better”
The Other briskly turned and paced back and forth with a muttering prowl, as the original Morgan stood in stunned silence. After a few moments she drew a breath and softly spoke.
“I’m not sure what to talk about. If you really are me then shouldn’t you know all of the shit I’ve been through ever since I got here?”
Wild-Morgan seemed to pick up on the sadness in her voice, and ceased her pacing to step slowly towards Morgan with a knowing look. She placed her palm gently on Morgan’s temple and softly said “You Morgan.” Then she slid the hand down Morgan’s neck, between her breasts, to rest it just over her navel. “Me Morgan. In-...” She seemed to struggle for the word, but finally managed a quiet whisper. “Instinct. Feelings. I am. Are. This so hard… please more words I learn…fast. I learn fast you- no. I. Learn. Fast. If. You. Help. Talk. Any words. Please.”
The effort of so much verbalization seemed to completely drain her, and Other-Morgan melted down to a sitting position with an exhausted whooshing of air from her lungs.
“Phew…” said Morgan, taking a half-step back. “That’s some heavy shit to drop on a person like that. So you’re what, my gut feelings and instincts? Then how can you even talk at all?”
The sitting woman raised an eyebrow at her with an expression like Morgan had asked another stupid question. “Only here. This place. This… Time. This is place of knowing. Only get one.. What word. Visit. Only one. Never again after. Please talk more. All words help.”
“I was telling the truth when I said I just don’t know what to say,” said Morgan. “All I can do is ramble shit off you already know if you are me and all that.”
“Ramble fine. Ramble IS fine. Learn me how words- Learn how words fit. I learn how words fit. Ramble is good.”
“Wait, so you know things but not how to put the words together? Can’t you just borrow that from me if we are the same person?” Morgan sat down herself with her legs crossed under her and looked her counterpart in the eyes. “Or does it not work that way in this place?”
Her other self looked back with a grin. “You getting it. Here we not one, we apart. But only in this place. After, one again. And I lose words. This only- This is only one time thing. For knowing self. Agreement.”
Morgan propped her chin on her hand and her elbow on her knee in thought. “So this is obviously something to do with choosing a class in this world. And after this I’ll never get to talk with you again? And you say you are my instincts or instinctive self. Were you ever with me on Earth?”
“Yes. Must have agreement choose- Both agree-” the woman shuddered with the effort, but finally spoke an entire coherent sentence. “We both must agree on the Class we choose!” The words left Other-Morgan clutching her head and panting, but grinning at her success. She seemed to consider for a few moments before choosing her next word. “Correct. After this no talk again. Probaly. Probably? Maybe in very strong dream, only maybe. Very very maybe.”
“So it’s not likely we’ll talk again, but there’s a slim chance we can if I dream deeply enough?” Morgan asked. The other woman nodded with a smile and made a rolling gesture with her hand, begging for more words.
“What about Earth? Have you always been me, has it always been us, even before this world with magic?”
“Always us. Me always- I have always there. Been. There. With you. But sleeping mostly. Earth safe. You safe. You were safe. With tribe. Family. Me- I not always needed, so asleep. Awake more when you little, and scared. Awake less when bigger.” The words seemed to come a little easier to the feral version of Morgan, and a more confident and less fidgety woman was slowly taking the place of the frightened girl that had first appeared. “As child. Awake more when you child, and needed me. Then asleep until not child. Until woman. First mating. Awake for mating. Always awake for mating! Fun!”
The original Morgan found herself blushing furiously, covering herself with an arm across her chest and a hand between her legs. “I’m not sure how to feel about that um… can we talk about things other than mating, please?”
“HA!” the other woman laughed. “You no fun, that why I awake then, you too- what word- embarrassed. Shy. Need me those times. Even though you want same fun still need me! I help not be shy, you have better matings.”
Morgan shook her head and feared she would die from embarrassment. And from being embarrassed by my own inner self, at that!!! Forcibly regaining control of her composure, she cleared her throat before talking again. “Ahem. Yes. Well then. Um. Earth. You were asleep on Earth most of the time except when I needed you. What happened here, how did you wake up, so to speak?”
“Already awake. Other woman steal mate, you- we- angry. MINE! OURS! Territory! Already awake when you angry!” the woman had lunged to her feet with anger. She seemed to be completely open and expressive no matter what the topic, unable or unwilling to even try to control her emotions, and the words became more snarl than speech by the time she finished.
“But then I decided to go find another man,” Morgan said with a twinge of regret and sadness.
The other woman slapped her hard enough to send Morgan ass over teakettle. Ears ringing she stumbled to her feet shouting, “What was that for!?”
“NO REGRET! NO SHAME!” the other woman shouted at her angrily. “She take, if she can take, he not worthy! Find better!”
“Hey I completely agree with you there, dammit! No need to hit me! I thought you wanted to talk!”
The other woman seemed utterly chastised, verging on tears as she clutched Morgan in a desperate hug. “I sorry. You think. I feel. I am only feel. Can only think here, is hard. Hardest thing I ever do. But have to, so you can understand me. Understand self. So WE can understand…”
She stepped back from Morgan with a calmer expression. “Please, more words. Getting easier to say what mean. What I mean.”
Morgan rubbed her jaw but the anger had faded with the pleading hug and apology from her other self. She paced back and forth under the dome of shadows while she spoke. “So you’re like my primal self, all the primitive feelings, and you were close to the surface because I was so angry. And then we fell through to this world, and I panicked and freaked out. What did that do to you?”
“Then I was very awake! More awake than ever before, except when you were a child and afraid of the dark, or your first man many year later. Only other times I was that awake!”
“But I don’t understand, why are you always asleep?”
“It so hard to explain. Never truly asleep. But close. All peoples are, for a long long long time. Earth is safe most places, most times. Earth is- Earth is tamed. Not no danger but danger is less danger, no.” Another pause and deep breaths. “Earth is less dangerous now. Except war places. Biggest danger other people.” The other woman gestured as she spoke, her expressions flickering so openly and honestly Morgan could almost forget they looked so alike. Those expressive eyes locked on hers and Other-Morgan said “You understand me?”
“I think so,” Morgan replied. “You aren’t just my inner self. You’re the primitive side that kept humans alive before fire and guns. Survival instincts? No, not just survival. Primal.”
There was a savage glee in the Other-Morgan’s eyes as she spoke those words, her teeth bared and eyes bright while she slowly nodded. “YES!” she hissed at Morgan with a guttural tone that was both sensual and intimidating at the same time. “I am your fight!” she said, her clawed fists swiping through the air and trailing actinic purple sparks as she danced in place like a boxer. “And I’m your flee!” she hissed as she sprinted a circle around the shadowed dome.
Morgan’s own heart beat a sharp staccato rhythm as she found the other woman's complete lack of emotional restraint pull her along with its honest abandon. Other-Morgan darted behind her suddenly, hands slipping around Morgan’s waist to pull her tightly against the other’s body. She nuzzled at her neck, inhaling the scent of Morgan’s hair. One of the woman’s hands curled up to her breast while the other slid gently between her legs, and Morgan felt her whole body flush with heat as fingers danced and teeth lightly nipped her shoulder before an extremely erotic whisper reached her ear with a sultry soft rasp. “And I’m your fuck, when your man gets it just right.”
Other-Morgan spun away with an almost sinister laugh, leaving the original standing there gasping for breath. “Primal. That’s the best and only word. I’ve always been there, when you needed to survive. That’s my number one concern. Survival. For you. For your kin. For your tribe, your pack, your family. That has always been why I exist. Why I will always exist. When our people first tamed the fire to fight the night, I was there.”
Morgan could not speak. The Other-Morgan seemed to have found all the words she needed and now spoke with such intensity, such sheer ferocity and raw emotion, that Morgan herself stood captivated.
“I’m your primal drives. Fight or flight, hunger for food, for a mate. I’m why you want children, to nest up and nurture the next generation. Survive does not just include you. It includes your entire line. Your family, your legacy. I’m always there in the background, but I usually don’t have to do much. You have safety. You have food. You have family, and your world has laws and most people are peaceful. So I can just snooze in the background, letting you be silly or stupid because even if you make mistakes, you will still survive. And if you do end up wandering to those few dangerous places left in your world? I wake back up to warn you away from dark alleys or dangerous men or shadows in the woods at night. And of course I wake up when you get your freak on, it gets boring as hell just riding passenger all the time.”
Morgan was utterly fascinated. Everything the woman said made perfect sense in some ways, but her situation since arriving in this world still had no explanation. She tried to frame her own questions, but the words stumbled together.
“But wha-why-HOW? Even with magicI I don’t understand why we can have a conversation like this if you are that- that instinctual!”
“Because of the System that exists in this world. You have to make a choice, but it cannot let you make a blind one. It cannot talk to you, the same way I normally can’t. But it can talk to me in the other way, the way you can’t understand but can only feel. And here, in this place, right now, I can talk to you just this once. You’ve been making choices without understanding anything, but you can still change back, at least for the most part. You can’t turn back once you choose a Class.”
Morgan’s near-mirror image stepped forward with a grim look in her eyes. “You aren’t on Earth anymore. This world is not SAFE! And I can’t keep us alive alone because it is not Earth. We don’t have thousands of years and hundreds of generations of instinctual memory to draw on. I don’t know if the whole world is like these Wildlands we landed in. The System won’t tell me that. It only shows me enough to point you down the different paths and explain the consequences, and even that is vague.”
“Then we need a plan. What can you tell me about choosing a Class? What even is it? Like the video games I played as a kid with my brothers?”
The other woman nodded. “In a lot of ways it’s exactly like that. We’ll have a lot of options we could take right now, and others we don’t meet the conditions for. But you already have a big problem, even though its not completely your fault.”
“The Naked Affinity Aspect,” Morgan said as her counterpart looked heartbreakingly embarrassed and ashamed. “What do you mean not completely my fault?” she asked with sudden apprehension.
“I was already awake when we got here, and then everything went to shit. Right off the bat you earned the basic aspect pretty much by random chance. But after you spent points on the [Naked Instinct] I became something more. I’m a big part of why you only spent points on the naked skills, because I didn’t know enough!” By the end of her confession the Other-Morgan was almost weeping in shame, looking vulnerable and submissive for the first time since appearing. “And I screwed up, because now I know how stupid that was, to not have other skills..”
“What do you mean? It all made sense at the time. Other skills applied to using items or weapons, and we definitely didn’t have anything like that except for the bathtub and the loofah, if that counts…”
“They made sense because I don’t care about clothes, Morgan. Your instinctive memories go back farther than the time when humans first wove grass skirts or made a loincloth out of animal hide. Many times many times farther. We spent tens of thousands of years grunting at each other and huddling in caves before we even figured out fire, back when it was all me and you could barely worry about the next meal, let alone the next week or next year. When as women we were claimed by the strongest male, whether we liked him or not, and we were grateful for the protection and the chance of stronger children. Before our brothers tamed the first wolf or made the first spear, and that is how I think, or thought before this talk. It’s how I’ll think again when you leave here. So you have to understand, and we have to figure this out because there is no going back once you go forward.”
Morgan remained silent in thought as the other woman’s voice finished with a quiet sigh. It took her a few minutes to gather herself and take in the scope of that kind of revelation.
“So you pushed me to the naked skills because they were our best bet for survival, right?”
The other her nodded passively, as if waiting for judgement for a crime.
“But all the other skills I could see in the list, they were either useless without the right gear, or seemed pointless in general. I don’t really understand why you feel bad…”
“Because of what the System has shown me about Classes, Morgan. It curates a selection for every person who reaches level ten. And one of the primary ways it decides what classes, or how to modify your classes that are available…” She trailed off, looking more humiliated by the second, and it almost broke Morgan’s heart to see this other self suffer. “...they’re based off the skills you’ve learned,” she whispered, barely audible in the flat acoustics of the misty dome.
They both stood in silence for several long minutes before Morgan finally spoke. “Does that mean I’m stuck with the whole naked thing even with a class?” she asked flatly, almost a monotone without emotion.
Her other-self actually cringed away while wringing her hands. “Probably!” she admitted, followed by a rush of words Morgan struggled to keep up with. “The system works on choices, and your class is the most important one or one of the most important ones you can make in your life here in its world! Once you choose you can’t go back but you might not meet the conditions for a normal class because of me and I don’t know how to keep us alive if you delay the choice and if I had pushed you towards different skills you would have better options but I just didn’t know I didn’t know I didn’t know…”
The woman had dropped down to sitting with her knees drawn up as she spat the words with anguished sobs, rocking back and forth like a forlorn child. “Hey.” Morgan said as she sat next to the woman and drew her into a hug with one arm. “Tell me truly, you did not know before now?”
Other-Morgan wiped her eyes but did not hesitate to respond. “Truly, I didn’t know. Wasn’t even able to know. And then we were here, and I was afraid you would hate me, and if you hate me you hate yourself, and that only ends one way. We die. Either on purpose or because we work against each other and get killed. Still, dead is dead.”
Morgan gave a chuckle and leaned her head on the other’s shoulder. “Yup, dead is definitely dead. But we’re alive right now, and I don’t hate you for not knowing. But I need to know what my options are, whatever you can tell me…”
“Well,” said her counterpart. “If we were anywhere with other people to help, it probably wouldn't even be a problem. You could delay Class Selection, and lock down the aspect with some gear or another bracelet. Then you could practice and learn new skills not under the aspect, and meet conditions for classes without naked restrictions.”
“I don’t think that would be the smartest thing to do, with Dire Wolves and Tyrannorabbits and Eel-Hydras and lord knows what else chasing us every time we turn around.”
“That’s why I thought you’d hate me. Without the learning bonuses from the aspect and the other skills, it could take days or weeks for you to learn a single spell. And you can’t level any more until you choose a class, so no more skill points or stat points to help.”
“What if I refuse to choose, but we keep going the way we have been, and try to look for a town or other people so we can do the whole ‘training new shit but with clothes on’ plan?”
Other-Morgan looked at her glumly. “The System doesn’t show me much, but I do know that we have not yet encountered creatures anywhere close to the most dangerous in The Wildlands, and that includes the Packmother. Unless you found a safe place to fortify and dig in for the long term, eventually something will pick up our scent that we can’t outrun and can’t fight off. Even choosing a powerful class won’t be a guarantee of survival, it only improves the odds a little bit.”
Both Morgans fell silent for a long time, one in deep thought, the other wracked with emotion she could not control. After what could have been either minutes or hours with no way to tell, the original Morgan finally spoke up.
“No matter what I choose, you’ll still be there even if you can’t talk, right?” The other woman simply nodded in the affirmative, sniffling quietly and wiping at her eyes.
“Okay. I understand the downsides. And I don’t hate you. If you really are me, or that part of me, you should know that’s the truth. Now, what can you tell me about the benefits? Are classes that powerful, and is there not some advantage to saying fuck it and going all in with the nudist thing?”
Other-Morgan looked at her in shock, which grew slowly into something akin to wonder. “Um!” she choked out the syllable with a cough, before taking a moment to catch her breath and continue in a more calm manner. “Yeah, there’s definite advantages. The double experience and points you already know. But you also learn any skills aspected under the whole naked thing a hell of a lot faster. Numbers are your thing, I can’t really count much past fingers and toes. After a dozen or so it’s all just either a heck of a lot or too many, to me. But I know you learn ‘Naked’ skills and abilities much easier, and gain skill levels a lot faster than normal too. It’s all because of the balance of not being able to equip gear.”
“That sounds like some powerful benefits, but it doesn’t explain what a class is.”
“A class is… hard to explain even with your words to help me. The System lets me know in a vague sense, but it’s stingy on actual classes and details. They’re somewhat like specializations or jobs, and a little like a mantra or a belief system, but not in the religious -well, there might be religious classes, I’m not sure- but…” She paused to consider the words. “Classes are a massive upgrade in your potential, at the cost of narrowing the focus of your life. There is power; from what I can sense there is a truly awesome potential for power with classes. But the most powerful ones will have the biggest drawbacks. But I won’t know any more than that until we move on to the next part.”
The original Morgan pushed herself up to her feet and brushed the dirt off her backside, planting her hands on her hips and looking around the featureless dome around them. “Well,” she said, “I can back out and choose to put this whole thing off if I don’t like our options, right?” She turned and offered a hand to her other-self, pulling the wild woman to her feet. “So tell me if you know, how do we move on to the next bit?”
That part was immediately made clear by another notification:
Having reached understanding of thyself, now understand the possible choices!
The charcoal mists surrounding them suddenly writhed and roiled, and faint purple flashes shone through as if lightning were striking in the distance all around them. Her other self literally flipped from a sitting position to a fighting crouch in a cat-like display of flexibility and a savage panicked snarl, eyes once again darting in every direction at once. As Morgan stepped over and calmly took her hand the more feral version of her whimpered.
“It’s okay,” Morgan told her other-self. “Out in the world you help protect me. I don’t think this system will just outright kill us with something like this. I know you’re all feeling and instinct, so in here, just lean on me…”
The flashes of lightning intensified, and low rumbling thunder soon announced its own presence as the mists retreated like a wave of ocean waters flowing back out to sea. The ceiling of the dome lifted upwards only a few dozen yards, forming low-slung and ominous clouds occasionally backlit by violent streaks of violet purple light. But what currently held their attention was the thousands of Morgans revealed by the receded mists.
There really were more of them than Morgan could have counted. Easily over a thousand, each standing on her own low stone pedestal raised just a scant handful of inches above the surrounding earth. Some of them wore armor, some of them silks and finery, and they seemed to be grouped with similar attire in clumps that followed various themes. As still and grey as statues, they stood facing the same direction, towards a larger raised section of earth that seemed to have a circle of brighter and more colorful versions of her.
“Can you tell me anything about this part?” Morgan inquired of her primal self.
“A little. These versions of you farther away from the center are possible classes that you don’t meet the conditions for. Either you don’t have the right skills, or they are incompatible with your aspect, or both. The closer you get to the center, the less conflicts those classes have with the way you are now. Easier to figure out how to get to, I think. Words are getting- I’m losing words again…”
“Then we should hurry,” the original Morgan responded. If there’s anything you need to tell me, just speak up while you can, I don’t hate you. I’m not even angry about it anymore, now that I know the details.”
Other-Morgan grinned and pulled her along. “No bother with these. Too far away- too many conditions we not ever… meet. But what does Morgan want? Up here?” she tapped Morgan’s temple again, with an intent focus in her eyes.
Morgan had begun to be distracted by the sheer variety of the statues. She had seen one with massively exaggerated muscles barely contained in heavy armor holding a huge war hammer overhead. At the question she stopped for a moment, but only a short one.
“I want the magic. From the first spell I cast, even as we burned after the fruit fuckup -which was all me, I know I ignored you there- I wanted the magic. I miss clothes, but I don’t want to die, and I just…” Morgan lost her own words as her thoughts trailed off. “I want the magic more than I want to give a shit about modesty. I already run around in skimpy dresses and half the time without panties. I’ll have to figure something out when winter comes, or when and if I ever run into other people. But honestly?” She looked at her other self. “The magic is more important than anything except survival. You get me?” The other woman beamed happily back at her as Morgan continued. “What do YOU want? We have to agree, remember?”
“I want…” The primitive version of Morgan seemed to struggle again, as if she were regressing back to the wild child that had first appeared under the dome of shadows. “Want survive. Survive mean power. Must be strong enough. Magic better than fist. Much better. Always have fist. Not always magic.”
As they approached the inner sections of the rows of statues hand-in-hand, Other-Morgan stopped just before the displayed versions of their self began to show in color. “These must be closer to what we meet the conditions for,” Morgan said as the other girl nodded. She started to step further in, where the statues were lit in full detail and vibrant colors, almost as if they had been caught in mid-motion, but her alter-ego stopped her short with a tightening grip on her hand and a slightly sad frown.
“In there,” the other woman said, nodding towards the brightened center-most ring of statues, “no more separate. Only you. Us. We. Am one again there.” She struggled with the last few words, and then seemed to lose all capability for speech as she dropped back to gritted teeth and a frustrated expression.
“I think we’re on the same page though,” said the original Morgan with a smile, gently booping her other self on the nose. “You want power, to help with survive. I want magic. So I say we find the most powerful magic we possibly can, and we don’t take no for an answer, no matter what this System says.”
As her primal self grinned back at her, those words seemed to roll out across the assembled statues. The Morgans bathed in light up ahead of their current position flashed brightly, and several of them went dark while a handful of previously darkened ones farther back suddenly lit savagely bright. A low thrum could be felt in the earth as pedestals began to shift, while the newly greyed out statues moved backwards away from the inner circle, the now-glowing ones further back moved inwards to take their place. The ones that moved away seemed to be fighters, poses like martial arts contenders, except for one that knelt with head bowed and hands together as if in prayer.
Morgan resumed the journey inwards, pulling her other self along by the hand. A mere two paces away from stepping into the ring of light they were both brought up short as if running into a wall. One more notification sprang into Morgan’s view.
Having reached understanding and agreement with thyself, a Choice must be made!
Will you continue Class Selection at this time, or delay for new conditions to be met in the future? [Continue/Delay]
Morgan turned to look at her savagely grinning other self. The ferocity and confidence in her gaze was matched only by the sheer joyous energy that seemed to radiate off of the other woman as she pulled Morgan into a hug and pressed her forehead to hers. Morgan smiled and chose to continue, and the other faded back into mist that lost its color and dissipated while a familiar giggling chuckle sounded into the empty and still air. When she realized that the giggling was her own she snorted and clapped her hands together.
“Well then,” she said with a faint smile. “Let's get the last part over with…”
As Morgan stepped into the circle, the shadowy mist descended once again to cover all that remained outside the light. That left only a handful of figures at the edges of the glowing circle, facing inwards in stillness towards the center where a broad stone slab lay upon the ground. The top surface of the slab was polished smooth, the outer edges still rough and uncut stone as if the entire piece had simply been sliced cleanly from the middle of a boulder. The stone was sparkling white quartz marbled with brilliant purple and violet and indigo veins that reflected the pulsing lightning that still lit the black soupy sky.
She stepped closer, and as she fully emerged into the circle of figures the outer ring of light flared. Space itself distorted as the distance between the figures and the center stone snapped out with a quiet whisper of air. Morgan turned a circle where she stood, and realized she was now standing in an arena. “Oh dear…”
With even more intense curiosity she walked back towards the nearest figure that bore her face. Or rather, it resembled her face, if she were to grow a glittering crystal coating over her entire skin. At the woman’s feet lounged a shadowy crystalline cat that vaguely resembled the tufted shape of a [Shadowlynx] that Morgan was so intimately familiar with, if somewhat smaller than the one that had attacked her that day in the cave. On the woman’s shoulder perched some sort of bird, with razor-seeming talons and a wicked beak, and she saw upon stepping closer that the bird’s feathers were tipped in translucent crystal thinner than the thinnest paper.
Morgan came to a complete and sudden stop in surprise when the woman turned her head to watch her approach. “SHIT! I thought you were statues!”
“No,” the crystal Morgan replied. “Merely potential choices that may come to pass, allowed a voice to impart the knowledge to help you decide.”
“Ah… so how does the whole crystal thing happen? What are you?”
“I am the [Crystal Mistress],” this new Morgan replied flatly. “If you choose me as your class, you embrace the changes wrought into your bones when you consumed the Fruit of the Tree of Life and Magic, and then endured the [Mana Cascade]. It will allow you to control all crystalline structures and minerals, from the smallest grains to massive spires. Creatures you wound with sharpened shards or otherwise pierce with your crystalkinesis will absorb your crystals into their blood, allowing you to absorb their essence and life to increase your power, copying their forms in crystal for you to control. As you can see, clothing is no longer an issue.”
Morgan flatout stared with morbid fascination as the woman made a gesture akin to a sales girl waving her hand in front of a product, only the crystal version of herself lowered her hand past her face and the crystals coating her skin retreated to the sides in a rippling wave of molecularly fine edges and jagged lethality. As the crystal spines and scales stood up against the skin they retreated into the flesh, and Morgan shuddered at the obvious agony the cruelly serrated edges caused the potential future her. Especially when the crystals dug back into her breasts and between her legs; the woman flinched and blood seeped out from a thousand thousand cuts all over her body.
“There is a price for power,” the woman gasped. “And the price for my power is pain. You will lose your resistances to it in exchange, for there are few things in this world that can counter me. I am limited only by how much Mana I can drain from my enemies and how much pain I can bring myself to endure, and nothing else. With enough Mana to drain, I could freeze the seas and shatter the land of this world, if only I could bear the pain of it. If you choose the Path of Crystal, take my hand.”
At that the woman ceased all movement, even the blood running down her skin freezing in place as she held out one hand upturned. Morgan did not hesitate in turning away and pacing towards the next figure clockwise around the circle. She had almost choked at the thought of enduring such pain, especially without her resistances.
She strode to the next statue, slowing to take in every detail of the next version of herself. This one was terrifying in its own right for an entirely different host of reasons than the [Crystal Mistress] had been. Where Morgan had nearly story-book pale skin, this possible future woman had a reddish dark complexion marred by cracks that spiderwebbed her body from head to toe. They didn’t quite form patterns around her features but gave the impression that they almost did so, fading to finer marks around the woman’s eyes and extremities, or broadening around her breasts and below her belly to almost obscure her most female of features. Sooty grey powder seemed to suddenly be pushed out of the cracks as the statue shifted its posture to look Morgan in the eyes, the ashen dust further covering the slender naked form.
“I am the [Magmastride Banshee],” she spoke. The voice was a rasp like dragging a half-charred log out of a dying campfire, and as she continued to speak her eyes went from black coals to fiercely shining embers. “I am walking ruin, empowered by the Mana that even now smolders in your bones, and by your practiced affinities with Earth and Heat and Flame. My scorching screams sear life from the very land, and I feed upon the ashen remains of my fallen foes.”
Morgan retreated a step for with every word the woman’s eyes glowed brighter, and the sooty cracks along her body were overtaken by a creeping liquid glow. The heat around the banshee intensified until it rippled the air around her, and tears of magma seeped from her eyes and the cracks in her body and even from her sex to drip sizzling and smoking upon the the stone pedestal. The voice came again, much louder and with a resonance like a roaring furnace or a jet engine, although still with a feminine pitch. “At the end of all that is, everything shall BURN! Mine is the Scorching Path!”
The woman’s heat-frizzled hair seemed to rise on the updrafts of the inferno as she spoke, before itself igniting into vibrant flame. The [Magmastride Banshee] then rose up a hand’s width off the stone pedestal as the veined quartz platform began to melt, simmering anger and barely-restrained rage turning the crystal into a seething mass of crimson-yellow liquid flame that hissed and spat like a thing possessed. The voice boomed out like the guttural snarl of a volcano one last time. “The price of my power is obvious! If you would walk the Scorching Path, take my hand and burn eternal!”
“Nope! Nope! NOPE!” Morgan chuffed as she quickly turned away from the heat. Just because there was power in burning the Mana she had in her bones did not mean Morgan could embrace it, as the Banshee seemed to enjoy.
The next pedestal she gave a wide berth as she skipped it to approach the one after. That Morgan did not look even close to human. An overly huge mouth gaped wide baring bestial teeth and vicious fangs. Bulging muscles outlined the scarred figure, and only the swell of breasts and lack of equipment between its legs gave evidence that it was even female. “Nope,” she spoke aloud. “Don’t even wanna know.”
The statue she now approached looked far more promising. A very peaceful and serene appearing version of herself gazed slightly up into the distance. What at first looked like tattoos of green vines or roots, were revealed upon closer inspection to be actual vines and roots covering the woman’s body. They traced beautiful concentric spiral patterns around her breasts and grew in delicate looping chains around her torso. From the waist the vines draped down the front and back like a natural skirt, but one that left the outer hips and legs bare. Her feet were stained a dirty green and tiny purple flowers grew along lines down her arms and legs that accentuated the figure’s beauty. As Morgan approached, the vine-wreathed figure turned its head to regard her, the wreath of blue and yellow blossoms that crowned her head rustling with the movement.
The statue spoke in a voice like the whisper of falling leaves in an autumn breeze. “For your service in awakening the Ancient Tree, by Right of your Title I am here. I am the [Leafless Druid], and my path is that of the Guardians of Nature. You have consumed the Fruit of the Tree of Life and Mana, and by the power of thy blood may claim kinship with the Tree and its surrounding forest. I am friend to all of the Living Wildlands, servant of the cycles of life and death, predator and prey.”
As the woman spoke the roots around her writhed and grew tendrils downwards, flowing around the stone into the surrounding earth. Up from where the roots touched dirt sprang dense tangled clumps that grew larger and larger, until the pedestal was surrounded by a dozen roughly humanoid shapes barely waist high to a watching Morgan. They had broad humped backs with no heads and proportionately massive arms tipped with vicious sharpened stakes for fingers as their hands. The blackened wooden tips oozed a viscous green toxic goop from within grooves along the spikes. Around the elevated druidic figure more spears of living wood had sprang up around her, covered in giant barbed thorns. “I command all that grows from the sun and the soil, calling Treants and even the Mighty Sentinel Trees to my defense or that of the Forest. From the Eastern Waters to the Western Mountains and from the Frozen Northern Peaks to the Southern Jungle’s edge, all of the Wildlands is my domain, and feeds my power over Life and Earth.”
As the last sentence still lay in the air, the ground rumbled under Morgan’s feet and a massive behemoth of moss-covered stone heaved itself up on the opposite side of the druid from where she stood. The [Leafless Druid] held out her hand. “If you choose this path all my power is yours without any restrictions save one. You must return to the Tree, and there remain all thy days. My power grows weaker further away from the tree. Three days wandering, perhaps four, the limits you may wander, else facing death as thy power drains away.”
Morgan backed away from the outstretched hand, shaking her head in rejection. Getting away from the tree was the whole point, and being trapped in the Wildlands, or in any single place anywhere, was definitely not on her agenda.
She padded her barefoot self over to the next pedestal, but it too had restrictions or costs she simply could not bring herself to pay, even for what seemed like extraordinary forms of power.
The [Shadowclad Rune-Witch] offered mastery of enchantment runes and simply ridiculous abilities with the Shadow Element, but came with an allergy to sunlight similar to vampires of Earth legends, along with the magic not working in the day.
Another flat refusal went to the [Flame Raiment Elementalist]. That one offered the ability to shift into Morgan-shaped elementals made of Living Mana of the respective elements. To become Flame or Stone or Lightning instead of merely wielding them, but the cost was to never return to her flesh and blood form. Morgan did not even wait for that one to finish holding out its hand.
Morgan avoided several others that looked like the Class simply included physical changes that were far too extreme or grotesque. She had no desire to become some sort of mutant beast that only dimly remembered humanity, even if the [Stormclaw Were-Tigress] looked like the most badass comic book superhero she could have ever imagined. The poofy tip of her tail was adorable! But the rest, she thought to herself. The neon purple fur was just too much, even as much as I love purple.
She was actually beginning to grow concerned after ten or so Classes that she had to reject. She had travelled almost halfway around the circular arena, and absolutely nothing had felt right to her nor had any of them caused any twinge of instinctual pressures. Nothing except for the nopes, and Morgan was in full agreement with her inner self there. The [Wildlands Beastrider] offered the ability to tame and bond with powerful creatures to help her fight or carry her around, and that sounded awesome at first. But she would have had to give up her Elemental magics and spells, and neither Morgan nor her now-quiet inner self would have liked that. Even without the required Class Quest to make amends with the Packmother, it was another nope.
Morgan was about to approach the next statue when movement in the distance caught her attention. One of the statues five pedestals further down was moving, without her having to approach. Curiosity broke through the tedium of her constantly rejecting the previously offered classes, and she broke out into a jog towards the distant moving figure.
As she padded closer the moving figure resolved into very familiar motion patterns. Still a few dozen yards away she couldn’t help blurting out,“Are you doing fucking YOGA!?!?”
“Yep! Took you long enough to make your way over! I can’t leave the pedestal without you, but I got bored just standin here,” came the rather unusually chipper and happy response in a confident tone of voice. A voice that lacked the exaggeratedly ominous effects the other contending Classes had spoken with. This new future-Morgan unfolded herself from a pose that now-Morgan did not think she could manage even with enhanced Agility. Scattered across the pedestal were what looked like discarded food wrappings made from folded leaves tied with string and even a simple stone jug that had been tossed aside to break upon the quartz disk once it was emptied.
“Yeah, I got hungry too. Had to eat something. You really took your time!”
Morgan could only stare up at this striking possible future version of herself while her heart beat triple-time in her chest. Instincts stirred nervously in her belly, equal parts anticipation and fear. “I don’t even…” she said as the future-Morgan seemed to preen under her gaze. The woman tossed her lustrous hair behind her back with a shake of her head and spread her arms and feet wide, showing everything off.
“You like it?” she quipped down at Morgan with a grin. Her body was utterly striking. A tattoo of a knotted celtic braid crossed her eyes from temple to temple, vanishing into that those raven-black locks of hair. It was a cobalt blue ink that gleamed reflective in the odd ambient light, as were the other tattoos that wreathed the figure standing on the pedestal. Geometric shapes laid in interlocking patterns across her shoulders, reminiscent of fractal patterns Morgan had only ever seen in computer generated estimations of paradoxical structures. The inked blue forms on each shoulder worked inwards along her collarbones, to spiral down to the center of her chest in finer and finer lines that neared but never touched until they both reached a simple coin sized circle above the woman’s sternum. Her breasts were as bare as Morgan’s own, but below that her ribs were traced with rows of tiny triangles outlining very tiny yet extremely detailed runes in a linked chain that followed each rib around her torso.
Below the woman’s sternum toned six-pack abs were outlined by shaded depictions as if some sort of scale armor had been drawn on her belly. The shiny glimmer of the lines of the tattooed armor descended to a narrow point less than a finger’s width above her most tender bits before arching back up and out over her hip bones in the image of a thin woven braid-like belt. Cobalt threads traced lightning patterns up her sides to connect the armor image to the belt, and the belt itself had circled runes inscribed into it. Those patterns seemed to morph and change to Morgan’s eyes as the woman twisted slightly back and forth at the waist to show them off.
Solid bands an inch wide wrapped around the woman’s thighs just below her bared vulva, then gave way to patterns of interlocked triangles and norse runes and celtic swirls that extended down past to her knees. Her shins were layered with nested chevron patterns that pointed down towards feet that seemed to have sandals tattooed around them. As the future-Morgan lifted her feet to turn the now-Morgan saw the soles of her feet were also covered in tiny patterns like the soles of running shoes she had seen on earth.
“Holy shit I want these tattoos!” blurted now-Morgan as the future-Morgan turned her back and stretched her arms above her head, holding her hair out of the way. The tattoo belt that had arched up and out from below the front of the woman’s pelvis had wrapped around her hips and arched back down to a point just above her tailbone.
From there it rose upwards along her spine, images of interlocking plates that bracketed the ridges of the bones all the way to her shoulders where it joined the geometric shapes Morgan had seen from the front. And directly on the woman’s finely muscled shoulder blades gleamed two feathered wing tattoos. These ones were different, in the deepest black that Morgan had ever laid eyes on. The wings were of a distinctly different style than the cobalt blue and purple lightning tattoos, as if etched by a different hand.
“Are all your tats…” Morgan trailed off, not even sure how to ask.
“Enchantment Runes?” the other woman asked as she turned to face Morgan with a grin. “Yep. Whole body [Living Runic Enchantment]. And if you choose me, you get to learn the first one to set you on the path!”
“You- I can’t even right now!” stammered Morgan. “How are you so different from the others? They’re all like doom and gloom robots or some shit.”
“I am the [Skyclad Sorceress],” the other replied. “And I’m only here because you challenged the System!”
“How did I do that?”
“Oh, I dunno, maybe by teaming up with your own inner self and declaring that you would find the most powerful magic you possibly could, and take me for your own, no matter what the System had to say about it!” The woman beamed down at her, and Morgan felt her instinctive excitement begin to faintly sway towards fear. “Or by asking what would happen if you went all in with the nudism aspect. Coulda been either. That’s all I know, other than that these others in the circle ain’t worth your time.”
“So what makes you different?”
“I’m different because I’m all or nothing. I get rid of your naked aspect, because it gets rolled into the class. I don’t demand you give anything up you haven’t already been doing without. I don’t restrict you from learning any magic, because I AM magic. Not just magic. I am Sorcery. I don’t need all that frivolous bullshit like magic wands and arcane powders like a weak-ass MAGE!”
She spat the last word with such contempt that Morgan flinched back. The woman’s voice did not seem to grow in volume or power, yet as she spoke the skies darkened and the clouds crept lower while the bright arcs of lightning intensified. “Wizards. Mages. Shamans. Druids. Priests. Warlocks and Necromancers. Fools every single one. They miss the point entirely.”
As the [Skyclad Sorceress] gazed down at Morgan with glowing flecks of violet-hued Mana in her eyes, the tattoos began to light up with vicious pulses of power that she could feel from a dozen feet away. “Before the first Wizard wrote his notes in the Book that became the Grimoire, there was Sorcery. Before Mages built the first Tower, there was Sorcery. Before the first Druid humped a fucking tree and gave it a name, there was Sorcery. Priests pray to Gods for power, but those Gods ascended because of Sorcery.”
The woman’s voice stayed perfectly calm, but every time she spoke the word sorcery her tattooed runes flashed and thunder rumbled closer. Lightning began to blast craters in the featureless terrain in the distance, the sound merely muffled thumps that Morgan could feel with her bare feet through the ground rather than her ears. “Shamans make bargains with spirits and elementals, without even knowing they draw upon Sorcery! And Warlocks and Necromancers? Pulling demons from the Hells, or ripping souls back from the other side of the Veil? They blaspheme against Sorcery itself!”
The last words were a scream, and fire erupted from the skies to fall upon the other statues one by one in brilliant white bolts that left no rubble, only sparkling molten quartz puddles where each had been before.
”You can feel my power, and I know you must ask the price. There are two. That pesky aspect will be gone. You choose now to commit to the Path of Sorcery and walk with me, and that’s it. No more clothes, no more equipment, no tools. Nothing but your body and your mind and your will and your power. There will be no penalties for equipping items, for it will be impossible for equipment to affect your body. Sorcery already flows in your blood and lays in your bones as crystal cinders. But there is another price.”
The Sorceress pushed her hand forward, and just above the edge of her stone pedestal a shimmering barrier appeared against her hand. While the skin of her palm and fingers smoked and sizzled, the woman looked down and spoke once more. “Your inner self told you some, and I can tell you just a little more. You challenged the System, and in return I am its challenge, and its offer to you, but you must understand. It is not good, nor evil, it doesn’t know right or wrong and it doesn’t care who lives or who dies.”
She pushed harder against the barrier, runes dancing with cobalt fire up and down her body. The barrier flared into a complete translucent gold cylinder surrounding the pedestal, tightening closer in response to the Sorceress’s attempts to step down uninvited. Morgan couldn’t breathe, and stood there watching slack jawed. She had felt the power, in the very earth and in the sky, crashing down upon the other pillars. A single one of those terrible skyborn flashes had contained more Mana than Morgan guessed she had expended the night she ate the churple and burned in the tree. She continued to stare almost helpless as, within the confines of the barrier, the [Skyclad Sorceress] spread her wings.
They rose up behind the woman’s back slowly, twice again higher than the midnight mane of hair. At first the wings seemed pinned in tightly, squeezed by the shimmering golden light. And then the Sorceress’s body erupted in liquid lightning that flowed upwards, into and underneath the feathers, and those wings flexed.
The barrier shattered as the wings snapped open in a burst of palpable power. The pedestal of quartz was reduced to flying rubble and Morgan instinctively brought up her own [Wind Barrier] to protect herself as the [Skyclad Sorceress] flapped her wings a few times to hover, almost as if stretching herself after a nap. Then the woman dropped to the ground in front of Morgan. The wings were as night made manifest, an expression of purest darkness that held an actual weight upon the eyes that looked into it. They stretched out over thirty feet to either side of the Sorceress, and the edges rippled gently in the stillness around the two women.
“The system only cares about one thing, Morgan. Stories. Your story. Lulu’s story. Every single living thing on this planet has a story. Everything with a soul anyway, so even the elementals and the sentient beasts and some of the plants that can move around and think for themselves have a story. And stories are built piece by piece with the choices you make. The System doesn’t care what choices you make, only that you make them, and live your story until the end.”
“I think I understand,” responded Morgan. “About stories and choices, i mean, that part makes sense. But what does the system want from me in exchange for your Class?”
“Sometimes people or things try to remove a soul’s choice. I don’t mean like torture, or threatening to kill someone, or using extortion or blackmail. Those victims, as sad as the truth is, still have choices they can make, even if all of their options have been reduced to shitty ones. They can still choose to comply, or defy, or ignore, or whatever they can think of. No, sometimes people like Warlocks or Necromancers go all the way bad. And they start fucking with Souls. To directly compel a Soul is a total abrogation of free will and making choices. To the system, there is no greater sin. In fact it’s the only sin.”
“So, I would have to fight those kinds of people?”
“When you come across them. Your story is still yours; the challenge and the bargain though, is that when you are faced with such sins you do not turn away. Do not do nothing as so many have before. Embrace your Aspect, and embrace this one rule of the system, and I will set you on the path. You’ll receive the [Living Rune Enchantment] skill so you can start learning your tattoos. You will choose your own most likely, and end up looking different than mine. You will lose that pesky naked aspect and become the [Skyclad Sorceress]. It even comes with stronger bonuses and benefits because you simply won’t be able to equip items, even if you try. So…”
The winged woman finally held out her hand. “If you choose this Class, simply take my hand, and we can move on to the last thing and get this over with.”
Morgan didn’t hesitate. In full agreement with her inner self, heart pounding with excitement, she took the woman’s offered hand.
“And one last thing,” she told Morgan as they clasped hands and the beautiful wings of night vanished with a snapping absence. “You’ll have to find the wings yourself: they aren’t part of the package…”
“WHAT!?!?”
|
{
"subset": "scribblehub",
"lang": "en",
"series": "8898",
"id": "8913",
"q": 0.9454545454545454,
"title": "Skyclad - Chapter 10: Know Thyself",
"author": "a_man_in_black",
"chapters": 51,
"rating": 4.7,
"rating_ct": 120,
"genre": [
"Action",
"Adventure",
"Drama",
"Fantasy",
"LitRPG",
"Mature",
"Mecha",
"Sci-fi"
],
"tags": [
"Accelerated Growth",
"Adventurers",
"Alternate World",
"Beautiful Female Lead",
"Blacksmith",
"Character Growth",
"Divination",
"Dungeons",
"Game Elements"
]
}
|
Zizzy was startled awake by a notification as the dim, predawn light began to brighten the single small window of her tiny apartment. As groggy and grumpy as she was, she simply dismissed the notification without even bothering to check as the peals of the temple bells announced the arrival of dawn. The sleepy fugue state persisted as she flopped herself out of her bed and stumbled her way over to the washbasin in the chill morning air. Stormbreak Isle may have been located closer to the warm tropics than not, but the northern trade winds kept the harbor city and capital of the island province much cooler than most would have expected. Her small domicile also happened to be located on the windward face of the high terraced cliffs that made up Stormbreak’s Upper District.
The cold winds had chilled her apartment, infiltrating with greater effect once her fire had finally died. She hurriedly broke the ice in the basin to wash herself as quickly as she could. The brisk wash was certainly effective, and by the time the rising sun finally began to peek over the bay she was fully awake. “Cheap or not,” she admitted out loud as she gazed out the window, “you can’t beat the view, not for a king’s ransom.”
Doffing her warm woolen nightgown, she finished her morning ablutions with a haste driven by the chilled air, proceeding to quickly don the utilitarian uniform which was her standard attire for most days. Plain, high quality undergarments, followed by the perfectly creased grey trousers, and then a simple linen shirt. A matching grey tunic slid over her shirt, and over this she buckled a utilitarian leather belt filled with tools befitting her rank as a Constable under the aegis of the Stormbreak Wardens.
After lacing up her well-worn, lovingly maintained and polished boots and tucking her braided golden hair under the shallow-billed hat, she finally donned the oiled leather coat hanging on the hook next to her apartment’s door. With a reverence that showed in her every mannerism, she plucked her badge and personal seal of office from the small desk next to her bed. The personalized enchantment, attuned to recognize her own mana-signature upon touch, pulsed with a gentle thrum as she gently pressed the badge to the left breast panel of her tunic. She felt the entire uniform settle around her as the enchanted set was completed. Low level standardized enchantments made specifically for the Wardens and their auxiliary police units they may be, yet Zizzy was immensely proud to have earned the right to wear them.
She checked herself over in the small mirror above her washstand one last time, satisfied with what she saw. Then, she turned and opened her narrow apartment door, and Constable Zizzy of Stormbreak City stepped out onto the street. The sunlight glittered across the bay in the newborn morning, illuminating a sprawling coastal city that wound around the edge of the water. Lowtown was the largest district of the city by far, stretching for miles around the steeper shores with docks and floating pavilions stretching out into the water to a massive shipping port that sat directly in the waters. The Merchant’s District rose up on magically-hewn stone pillars and arches to facilitate ships with deeper keels, the larger vessels unable to dock directly to the city’s arching stretch of piers. Access to the district itself was a stone bridge wide enough for five or six wagons abreast to trundle across it, but high enough that smaller vessels could pass under its arches in all but the highest of tides.
The port city never slept, of course, and Zizzy could just make out the methodical rise and fall of the massive wooden gantries and their stone counterweights as they worked steadily to load and unload the ponderous merchant vessels. Fishing sloops and other smaller craft were able to bully their way closer to shore, vying for the better docking positions closer to the markets and Lowtown’s warehouses.
As she looked out at the distant ocean entrance to Stormbreak Bay, she was treated to the somewhat rare sight of a Swiftwater Guild courier vessel racing into the harbor on approach from the sea. Its path curved into the bay in a smooth arc as its mana-powered nacelles shifted on their outriggers to keep the craft steady at speed. The Swiftwater Guild was notoriously secretive about its ships’ designs, but the power of the enchantments was evident. Foamy plumes of sea-water kicked up behind it as the Wavecutter skimmed into the harbor with the natural arrogance of the rare and exotic.
Zizzy did not bother with the Mana-Lift elevator station on her apartment’s terraced level, instead continuing past the lift station to one of the many steep stairways cut deep into the stone cliffside. For a few silver, the lift could have taken her all the way down to Lowtown, or any of several stops in between, but she was not going that far on this Sabenday morning. The last day of the week was a day of reflection at the temple, and the traditions of the City Watch allowed their members to observe such things as long as no pressing matters required their attentions.
She took the stairs down to the next tier, smells of baked goods and hot beverages leading her onwards. One of the smaller upper markets sat in a naturally occuring gap in the cliffs, not directly facing the tradewinds that made her tiny apartment just barely affordable on her modest pay. Everything was more expensive the higher you went in Stormbreak City, even the street vendors’ goods. But her routine on this day of the week was well known, and a familiar shopkeeper paused from arranging her trays as Zizzy approached.
“Don’t even reach fer that coin pouch, Const’ble,” quipped the young woman as she placed two steaming breakfast pastries on waxed parchment and folded them with a well-practiced motion of her hands. “Ma never accepted your coin before, an’ if she heard I did she’d thrash me proper with that rollin’ pin, an you know it!”
“Every week I try to pay, and every week you refuse, just like your mother always did when she ran the shop.” Zizzy grinned as she put her coins away. “I’m glad to hear she can still swing that rolling pin. You tell her I asked about her, Kellen.” Zizzy scooped up the wrapped pastries and tucked them into a pocket to keep the drizzling mist that was constant at this elevation from getting to them. Departing the baker’s stand with a wave, she threaded her way through the avenue that was slowly getting more and more busy as the daylight warmed the stone-paved streets.
Traveling a route long since committed to memory, Zizzy's footsteps soon led her out from the shadow of the stone walls lining either side of the street. Hightown was Stormbreak’s true heart of commerce and law, nestled out of the reach of most of the ocean’s often-inclement weather. Guild halls, various banks and offices, and many exclusive shops and other establishments sprawled out from the grounds of Storm Break. It was a low-slung, broad stone building, a seven-sided monstrosity boasting a massive double spire at each of the seven corners. The spires rose up like giant slender tuning forks over a thousand paces high to tower over even the central peak of the island’s mountainous interior.
As Zizzy made her way down the main boulevard, one of the western facing tower-forks began to glow at the base, just above where the spire split in two. Glowing energy, wider than Zizzy was tall, rose up the pair of tines with a golden spark bridging the gap between. It crawled upwards like a god giving a Jacob’s Ladder demonstration. When the massive spark reached the tip of the fork, the sky flashed for a brief instant as the arc leapt westward over the ocean. There should have been thunder, but Zizzy knew the enchantments around the Storm Breaker Central Array kept the locals in the region from being deafened by its discharge.
Before she travelled all the way to the governmental section of the building that sat just in front of Storm Break, Zizzy turned once again to head up a slightly smaller cul-de-sac known as Temple Gardens. Stormbreak’s Temple was a modest affair, as were most. Called the Temple of Guidance by some; the Temple of Prophecy by others, Zizzy preferred the older name for it: the Temple of Reflection.
Dedicated to no specific deity, it was instead part of the loosely associated temples and groups that bent spiritual knee to the undeniable authority of the [Oracle]. People were free to pray at the various shrines to this or that god within the Temple, as the Custodian of Stories played no favorites. A woman who could topple empires with a word in the right ear, or crown a beggar king with a simple message, many feared the [Oracle]. But all respected her Mantle, regardless of their own personal faiths.
Sabenday was not so much a holy day but rather the traditional weekly event when the Temple gave out a larger charity meal than the daily bread, along with allowing petitioners to request personal divinations from the various prophetic or priest-type classes that served the [Oracle]. A sermon was typically given in the morning, and this was the reason Zizzy had made her way so far out of her usual patrol district.
At the arched front entrance to the outer Temple Gardens, the city’s grey paving cobblestones gave way to smooth, pale marble tiles. Setting foot on the first one, Zizzy counted exactly thirty-three stones as she walked, stopping six squares from the temple steps. She stood there for a few moments as others passed to her left and right, coming and going from the Temple itself. Squaring her shoulders, she slowly held up her right hand and reached forward over the line between her stone and the next.
As her hand crossed the invisible threshold, she was wracked with intense pain. It was a sensation like she had dipped it into impossibly cold ice water at first, that deepened into a frigid burn the longer she persisted. The skin of her hand began to degrade after a few short moments, drying and cracking with an even more intense hurt. With a resigned, unsurprised sigh, she withdrew her hand, the damage beginning to heal almost as fast as it had been inflicted.
Zizzy turned to her left and paced around to the side of the temple, her expression somewhere between forlorn and hopeful. Less than a third of the way around the temple proper was a stone bench under a canvas awning, sitting close enough to the threshold that one could just hear the low droning of one or another of the priests getting long-winded with his sermon. The tall, narrow windows were too high to allow sight into the main atrium, but the acoustics let enough of the sound carry outside that she could sit on the bench and meditate while the susurrating murmur calmed her soul.
“I don’t even need my divination gifts to know when you get here, Zizzy,” a gruff but friendly voice said off to her left. “You’re like clockwork; every week, same exact time, with almost no deviation unless you have Warden’s business to attend to.”
A portly, kind-faced older man leaning on a cane shuffled into view, dropping to the bench beside her with a groan that gave proof to his age and status. Eventually Vitality simply ceased to be as effective, providing less and less regeneration and health recovery later in life. “I swear,” gently chided the man. “I have seen clocks that don’t keep time as well as you do, Ziz.”
“It’s not like a Diviner or a Prophet needs clocks anyway, Janim.” Zizzy greeted her old friend with a smile and dug out the breakfast pastries. “Besides, I know you only talk to me because I bribe you with sweets, ever since the others stopped letting you sneak them out of the kitchens. I shouldn’t, but you’d probably try to reach Kellen’s stall for them if I didn’t show up.”
“Pshaw!” the old man gusted. “I’d never bother limping that far. I’d bribe a supplicant or one of the dishwashers. I may be too old for an Augury Ritual, but I can still give advice about money and love. Don’t even need my talents for that, it’s all just age and experience.”
Zizzy elbowed him gently in the ribs as they both chewed on the sweet pastries, her being careful of crumbs while he fully enjoyed the rare treat and left evidence down the front of his robes. While they enjoyed their breakfast in silence, the sky flashed three times in rapid succession with searing golden light.
“They’ve been at it all week, ever since the Purple Night,” said Zizzy, as her companion produced a clay jar and two simple cups from somewhere within his robes with a flourish. Handing her a cup, he poured a smooth dark liquid for each of them and set the now-empty jug down next to the bench. Wiping his mouth with a corner of his robe in a distinctly un-priestly manner, he held his cup up, and he looked at her expectantly.
Zizzy cocked an eyebrow at him but couldn’t maintain her serious composure for more than a few heartbeats. She waved her fingers over each cup with a small expenditure of mana and a soft affectionate laugh. With the chocolate beverage now steaming gently, Janim took a few sips to wash the last of his pastry down before speaking again.
“The Storm Breakers don’t consult with the temple, but even we can feel the storm to the west. Whatever happened on the Purple Night disturbed the wind and mana currents all the way out over the Western Sea.” The retired [Dreamsight Diviner] sipped his chocolate thoughtfully and then continued. “All of us here dreamed of the Burning Woman that night, Ziz. I can't be sure, but I strongly feel that every single Talent and Touched on the continent did. And then the [Oracle]’s announcement of Worldwalkers coming through right after word of the Deskren Raid on Possibility. If I thought my heart could take it I would do an Augury tonight!”
“You better not, old man!” Zizzy snapped. “I did not pull a pack of brats out of that burning warehouse just so you could start ending your own stories before their time!” Her grip, freshly white-knuckled in consternation, caused the cup to quiver gently. Janim patted her knee in conciliation.
“Don’t worry, Constable. I’d need a bigger reason than dreams and uncertainty to put my aching bones through that, these days. Peace! Stop looking at me like that!”
Zizzy kept up her scolding look as she silently sipped at her chocolate, enjoying her friend’s mild discomfort just a tiny bit more than was probably appropriate. The sky flashed again, interrupting their moment of amusement with a grim reminder.
“They must be wearing even the auxiliaries out to constantly fire the array, Janim. I’ve never seen the Storm Breakers have to work so hard, not in all my years in the city.”
“Worse, Constable. They’ve had to start calling up the old contracts, conscripting mages and wizards and their students from the Academies and from Stormbreak College. There’s whispers that they may have to fire the entire Master Array, all seven circles and Storm Break itself. That hasn’t been done in…” Janim wandered off in thought. “At least two centuries. No one living has ever even seen the Array at full power. They’d have to evacuate parts of the city too; people have built over the old Runic Lines, it’s been that long.”
“Have the other Dreamers not been able to offer guidance?”
“They can’t, although they would never admit it. Looking anywhere near a mana storm is madness, even with the smallest ones. Trying any sort of divination about one this large could bleed over into a shared nightmare. With the dozens of precognitive classers at the temple that would spread out, trapping innocent people as well as whoever did the looking.”
She shuddered at the thought. The risks were bad enough when they only affected the person seeking the visions. Dragging random bystanders into it was an even more unpleasant thought.
“One thing all of us with foresight abilities agree on though, Zizzy.” The priest had a solemn look that clashed with his usual friendly-gruff persona as he spoke. “If the Storm Breakers can’t break this storm, say goodbye to the island and half the coast. It’ll scour inland across the Golden Meadows and won’t stop ‘til it hits the Wildwall Mountains. It won't be so bad over land for the people at first. But there would be no harvests this year, and on top of that there would be so much wild mana permeating the soil. Nothing would grow right for two or three years. At a minimum, mind you.”
“None of the reports at the office have even hinted at it being that bad, Janim. But that’s not surprising; the Wardens couldn’t handle an evacuation even if they tried to call one.” Zizzy sat back and sipped her chocolate somberly.
“Indeed,” sighed the old priest. “Best us islanders can hope for is to shelter in the interior, but there is nowhere near enough room under Storm Break’s shield enchantments for everyone.”
“What about the academies? I know they all have protective spells…”
“I really don’t think it will come to that, Ziz. While all our dreams certainly seem dire, they always end with a hopeful note none of us can see clearly. I have faith and will wait it out, like always.” He finished off his sugary drink and relieved Zizzy of her empty cup as well. “And on that note, I’m afraid your habitual Sabenday meditation is about to be cut short…”
The huggably large priest leveraged himself to his feet with a groan and both hands on his cane, then smiled back down at Zizzy. “I do believe that young messenger is about to arrive with your summons to appear before the Lord-Commander. I’m sure you’ll have important work to do if they’re calling for you this early today.”
While his age might have prevented the retired priest from performing the more demanding rituals of his class type, his natural prescience proved to still be in effect as a city runner darted around the corner of the temple. A youth that Zizzy did not recognize stood for a moment, panting to catch his breath. After a brief recovery, the boy dug through his satchel of missives. The accuracy of Priest Janim’s predictions was borne out once more as the boy handed her a simple grey card of thick parchment with the Stormbreak Isle crest on one side and the Lord-Commander’s seal on the other. The card was blank save for the single word “Urgent,” indicating that her presence was required immediately.
Even though she did not recognize the boy, he apparently knew her, even if only by reputation. Her habits and her soft spot for children were well-known, and he grinned as she tossed him a silver coin and a piece of soft candy she dug out of her coat pocket before darting off towards his next destination.
Briskly returning to her feet, Zizzy brushed the few traces of breakfast pastry from her uniform and made her way quickly back the way she had originally come to the temple. She had no idea what she had been summoned for, but given her history of employment and unique skillset, the list was fairly comprehensive. She was very good at her job, and frequent summonses to help in districts other than her normal Lowtown beat were not unusual in the slightest.
She set a pace just this side of unseemly, and most pedestrians on the street cleared the way for the uniform, if not her personally. Magical things permeated the island society, which meant magically inclined people, including criminals. And that meant appropriately swift and magically talented law enforcement was necessary. Few people were willing to to risk the ire of anyone in the service of the Stormbreak Wardens when it was so obvious they were on official business.
With a nod to Kellen, the baker’s daughter, Zizzy made her way back out through the gap in the cliffs that was Upper Market Row. WIth another right-hand turn, she continued eastward along the street overlooking the harbor. She was already on the right terraced level, so she skipped both mana-lifts between her and her destination. Another curve around the edge of the cliff revealed what looked like half of a tower, split vertically and stuck into the cliff face as if a giant’s hand had pushed it into clay.
Storm’s Hold was the headquarters of the Stormbreak Wardens, and it had offices and entrances on each of the city’s different elevation districts. Its foundations were sunk deep below the waves, while its upper floors towered above all else save Storm Break itself.
Noisy taprooms and quiet back alleys alike held tales of hundreds of underground floors to match the ones above, but Zizzy knew the truth of the dungeons was nowhere near so dramatic. Its actual dungeons weren’t even below sea level; they just did not have windows to the outside, and air was vented in through ducts that caught the ocean’s constant winds and kept the whole tower from suffering stagnant air.
Ducking into a side entrance in order to avoid the the lines of various civilians and functionaries going about their business, she felt her badge pulse on her chest as the security enchantments lining the archway verified her access. The private entrances would treat unauthorized persons as hostile and the results, while not demonstrated often, were neither pretty nor easy to clean up.
Heeding the summons, Zizzy went right past her own small but paper-strewn office, turning back towards the main space of the lobby and stepping around busy clerks and Wardens and Patrol Watchmen going about their respective tasks. As she walked she could not help but overhear snippets of conversation, in low and worried tones, from the other people working at desks or standing in the halls.
“Another one at Southpeak Village?”
“We don’t know. It looks like the same one that hit Shepherd’s Craig and the Western Glenn.”
She didn’t recognize the whisperers, but the entire office area seemed nervous and apprehensive. More hushed conversation drifted past her as she walked, but the remainder fell below the level of her hearing. Dismissing further consideration, she passed through the administrative section of the Wardens and went up the shallow steps to the Lord-Commander’s private offices.
“I’m sorry, Ziz; you can’t go in!” A young and rather flustered secretary stood up from the desk near the heavy double-doors of the office, holding up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. “He requested-”
Zizzy held up her summons card with the Lord-Commander’s Seal stamped on it. “He requested my presence immediately, Megyn, and I know full well that you don’t keep the Lord-Commander waiting.”
Megyn sat back down at her desk, looking rather flustered as the Constable stepped around her with a soothing wave of her hands. “Don’t worry; I’ll take the heat if he’s upset, Megyn. He’s not so gruff as he pretends once you get to know him”
Zizzy pushed open the heavy double doors to reveal a middle-aged man with graying temples sitting behind a desk even more cluttered than her own. The Lord-Commander of the Stormbreak Wardens cared much more for results than appearances. What held his attention was a formal envelope sitting on the center of the sprawl of papers, quill pens, and inkwells that scattered across his workspace.
The Lord-Commander did not even look up as he waved at one of the simple but sturdy chairs in front of the desk. The document his eyes never left was a plain envelope of thick, soft parchment with an unmistakable pearlescent sheen of mana embossed into the very fibers. Zizzy drew a sharp breath; despite this being one of the few times she’d ever laid eyes on it, she instantly knew what that stationery meant.
“I thought the [Oracle] was missing since the Deskren raid, presumed taken and collared!?”
“Indeed, that was the assumption until now,” the man said, in a deep, gravelly tone. “But this is one Seal that cannot be faked, not even with [Divine] assistance.” He stared down at the enchanted seal that had held the envelope closed, the image of a half-lidded eye seeming to flicker between open and closed as if the wax-like metal were alive. “I know you have seen the Seal before, but this is the first to arrive during my own tenure behind this desk. And I’ve long been among those who believe this chair should be yours. You have twice the years in the wardens as me or anyone else.”
“Don’t give me that, Terrick. You earned it, and I wouldn’t take the job even if the Council would stand for me in the seat. Are you going to keep being mysterious or are you going to tell me what the [Oracle] wants?”
“It’s not what she wants. She almost never makes requests, you know that better than I.” Terrick, the man, finally showed through the mask of the Lord-Commander as he rubbed his face with one tired hand and leaned back in his chair. “You’re aware of the killings that started in the southern villages on the Isle?”
“Only what the gossip lines have said around my district. You know Hightown loves the drama more than the truth, though, and I’ve been busier than usual since the Purple Night got everyone skittish.”
He pulled a stack of sketches, colored and detailed with the expert touch of a very skilled [Mana-Scribe], and passed it to her before continuing. “Nine victims so far. None during the Purple Night, but they start the night after. Two classless shepard’s boys out in the central hills with their family’s flocks. The next, a young girl from Southpeak Village. But then, whoever it is got Circle-Master Gallern of the Southpeak Array Overseers.”
Zizzy had been going more and more pale as she flipped through the sketches of obscenely desecrated bodies. Her experienced eye informed her that the victims had been kept alive to suffer until the very end. “These wounds, the tearing-- it looks like a ritual, but there’s no circle, no spell array. Like someone’s doing it just to hurt them.” Her voice was stiff and clinical as she relied on years of experience to keep a measure of detachment, and yet she could not help her sudden shiver of revulsion.
“That was the conclusion Southpeak’s Constable came to as well, and he didn’t wait to request official assistance. We sent a forensic mage team; they found strange mana signatures all over the crime scene. They couldn’t identify them, except that the magic involved was neither summoning nor soul magic. Worse is what they did not find.” The Lord-Commander had an expression of cold fury in his eyes as he continued, “They were completely drained of magic. While alive. And then mutilated. In the cases of the women and girls, raped. Only after that were they permitted to die. The [Oracle]’s message is merely confirmation.”
“[Mage-Eater],” whispered Zizzy. She now knew why she alone had been summoned.. No mage-type class could face one, especially if whoever it was had already become powerful enough to take a Circle-Master like Gallern. The woman had maintained and powered the Southpeak Lesser Array with perfect diligence for a decade. A sudden horrible thought struck Zizzy.
“The Array! He’s targeting Storm Breakers!”
“Yes,” came Terrick’s blunt reply. “Since Gallern he has stuck exclusively to Breakers and obvious mages. And with the Mana-Storm being this bad, we need all of them, Ziz. I had already planned to send you after him, but the [Oracle] beat me to it.”
“I’ll go, of course, but I don’t know why the [Oracle] would send a message requesting me, personally.”
“It’s not a message about you, Zizzy; it’s a message to you. Care of the Lord-Commander of the Stormbreak Wardens. It reads as follows:”
“Constable Zizzy, or rather Ix’zizzixtrim the Succubus. Unlike most of your kind, you have spent the eighty-seven years since your summoning in faithful service to Stormbreak Isle -- and by extension, all of mankind. Your unique skillset and racial traits will be necessary to stop The Defiler, the monstrous killer that now plagues the island. He is a [Worldwalker], and will become dangerous very quickly by his otherworldly nature. You are immune to a [Mage-Eater]’s draining skills by yours. You have little time; he will continue to slay Storm Breakers until there are no longer enough to fire the Array and break the World-Storm. For the first time in the history of Anfealt, a demon shall bear the [Seal of the Oracle], and may all who block her path be struck from the Hall of Stories.
Constable Zizzy, be as swift and merciless as only someone of your nature can be, and may your Story be Remembered.”
The Lord-Commander held out the [Seal] sent by the [Oracle], a simple coin-sized representation of the mysterious eye. As Zizzy held her hand out in a daze, unable to respond, the man placed the Seal on the back of her hand where it stuck a moment before melting into her skin with a gentle hiss.
“Your orders, Constable, are as follows: Proceed at once to Southpeak Village and track this piece of dragonshit directly. You have honored your oaths to the city and never used your extra-human abilities without permission for the past eighty-four years; that permission is once again granted.” Zizzy shuddered, shoulders relaxing as if a great weight had been lifted from her. “Here is this [Worldwalker]’s Writ of Execution.”
As the Lord-Commander reached into a drawer of his desk to withdraw a slender, sealed scroll, inky-black wings of silken midnight made material unfurled from her back. As he extended it across the desk, a scaly, spade-tipped tail snaked out of a long-disused fold in her trousers. As she took it in hand, a lazy, satisfied grin spread across her features.
As Terrick's brown eyes met Zizzy's glacial blues, that color melted away, yielding to an inhuman shade of reddish gold.
"Do what you have to, Ziz," the Lord-Commander continued quietly, formality giving way to warmth. "Feed if you must; you have my authority as well as the [Oracle]'s." He rubbed his face, and for a moment, he looked as old as he was. "Nature of his crimes aside, he's threatening the Storm Breakers' ability to defend the mainland from the Mana-Storms.
The warmth in his tone was as fleeting as the appearance of age. "You have your orders, Constable. If there are no questions, dismissed."
Zizzy turned on her heel with a grace that had not been present before, and the raw predatory intent that radiated from her as she left his office made itself known even before eyes began to turn and widen. She did not stop to enjoy the attention that dropping into her deeper nature caused her to crave, however. I have my orders, after all, she thought.
Wings stretching and flexing in anticipation, Zizzy strode directly down the central dais and past the gawking women and defenseless, drooling men. She had not been allowed off the leash of her oaths in over two decades, and the eagerness of her inner nature was palpable in the air around her.
Stepping outside the central doors, Zizzy did not turn down the street to approach the mana-lifts around the cliffs. She instead walked straight ahead to where the raised stone barriers with their linked chains gave a modicum of safety to the pedestrians. Stepping up onto one such barrier, she did not even pause to admire the view before letting herself fall forward, diving into the rushing updraft and falling hundreds of feet before letting her wings snap outwards. With a haunting laugh that left observers below shivering for minutes after her passing, Ix’zizzixtrim the succubus winged her way south.
|
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A small family diner. Seeing how starved the girl was, Neol took her to a place he usually stopped by for dinner when he stayed later than usual on campus. As promised, he paid for her food and got some for himself.
Sitting at a dining table, Neol took a sip from a cup of water and then took a bite from his Caesar salad. As he did, he stared at the girl across from him.
Rena flushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear. “D-Don’t look at me so intently.”
Neol shrugged. “I can’t help it. The contrast between us is too much.” Saying that, he looked down at what Rena ordered.
The largest burger that the diner had on the menu. An extra large order of fries. And then a towering strawberry shake in a paper cup.
Neol looked back up at Rena and said, “That’s a lot of food for a girl with your figure, you know?”
“H-Hmph!” Rena picked up her burger and said, “I was hungry, alright?! I haven’t had a proper meal all day because I was stressed out.”
“Even so, eating that much might make it your last meal, you know?” Neol said that while carefully observing her.
She scoffed and took a big bite from her burger. Thoroughly chewing it, she swallowed and reached for a fry, tossing it in her mouth.
Of course, in her haste she immediately started choking.
Rena’s beautiful eyes widened and she dropped her burger on her plate, reaching for her shake. She took a sip, but since it was so thick, nothing came out of the straw. Scrambling, she grabbed Neol’s water and ripped the lid off, taking a large gulp. But it didn’t help and Rena started to panic.
Seeing that, Neol sighed and leaned over, quickly jabbing her diaphragm.
Rena gasped, coughing, and a soggy French fry flew out of her mouth, landing on her burger.
“See?”
Rena coughed a bit more. Afterwards, the tips of her ears turned red and she turned her head to the side. “T-That doesn’t prove anything!”
Neol shrugged. “Don’t need to prove anything to me, Miss Fortunate.” He took a few more careful bites of his salad and then waved his fork at her. “But I am curious… The world really seems to want you dead. What’s your story?”
Rena frowned and took another bite of her burger. This time, it was small and careful. She also pointedly avoided her fries. “I think you’re being too superstitious… but I guess I can tell you about myself a bit. I owe you that much for saving my life twice today.”
“Mmhm.”
Rena placed her burger down and wiped her hands with some napkins. “Like you guessed, I’m half and half. I don’t know who my father is, but my mom was a Japanese escort who came to America after him since he was supposed to be some rich businessman. Of course, she never found him and had to make ends meet and raise a baby all by herself.”
Neol blinked. Hearing that, he briefly wondered if she was lying to try and get him to pay for something else too… but he quickly shook off that thought.
The girl was too naïve to be that devious.
After all, what he had done would be enough to be considered sexual harrassment and she hadn’t even brought it up once, so she was clearly too nice for her own good.
Rena let out a sad smile and said, “Since Mom’s life was miserable, she named me Rena. Apparently it means joyous melody… Considering her life was an aria of sorrow, she hoped mine would be different. But…”
“She died, right? Leaving you to work things out by yourself?”
Rena blinked. “How did you know?”
Neol waved his hand. “You wouldn’t be talking like that if it was a happy ending, right?”
Rena nodded. “You’re really smart, aren’t you, Neol? …But yes. Mom died on my sixteenth birthday two years ago. Since then, I’ve had to work odd jobs because I don’t have any relatives here.” She smiled and said, “I’d like to think I’ve been doing a good job at it too! But…” Her smile faded and she said, “The place I was working at recently fired me.”
Neol raised an eyebrow and said, “Let me guess. It’s a job at a café and you were hired on the spot after meeting the manager. You had it for about a year, but then that guy asked you out for lunch or dinner at his place and you rejected him… Probably today, right? And then you suddenly got a text saying that you were fired.”
Rena gasped. “Are you a detective, Neol!? That’s exactly what happened!”
Neol shook his head. “It’s obvious. After all, a girl as beautiful as you can’t work an ordinary job without drawing too much attention and jealousy so regular places wouldn’t hire you. And the people that do would have ulterior motives…” Neol paused and tilted his head. “Considering how naïve you are, I’m surprised you haven’t been taken advantage of yet.”
“That’s mean!” Rena huffed and took a sip from her shake. “I’m not stupid, Neol. Besides, Mom taught me a lot about how bad men act and how to handle them.”
“Apparently not enough to avoid getting fired.”
Rena paused. “…I’ll admit that my manager was a bit creepy, but he wasn’t like that. And if he was, I’d-“
The doors to the diner slammed open. With that, a pair of drunken men staggered in. One of them, a guy that was in fairly good shape, probably an athlete, noticed Rena and turned towards her.
Before they could even take one step, Neol grabbed Rena’s arm and pulled her out of her seat.
“N-Neol?” Rena blinked, caught off-guard at the sudden act, and hastily grabbed her bag. “U-Um-!”
He glanced at her and shook his head. “Don’t question it and just come with me.”
They had already paid for their food, so Neol didn’t hesitate in leaving. He did grab Rena’s shake before they went too far though.
That guy Neol noticed walked over, trying to grab Rena. “Hey, babe! Why don’t you-“
Before that guy could grab her, Neol pulled Rena close and spun her around.
The act caused the guy to fall flat on the ground.
“H-Hey!” His friend called out, turning towards Neol.
But before they could do anything, he had already ushered Rena out of the diner, adjusting his bag behind him as he did.
Once they were outside and a fair distance away from the diner, Neol let Rena go.
The moment he did, she turned to him with starry eyes and said, “That was amazing, Neol! Where did you learn to move like that? No, are you a professional dancer?”
He nodded. “If you consider dancing on the bridge of life and death every day being a professional, then yes.”
“E-Eh?”
Neol shook his head and adjusted his bag. “Nothing. You just pick up a lot of things out of necessity when the world keeps throwing things at you… Ah, and stand still.”
“What? Why-?”
A baseball whipped past Rena’s head, bouncing off the wall of the building.
Her eyes widened and all the color left her face.
“Sorry, Mister!” At that time, a pair of kids ran over, one holding a wooden bat and the other a glove. The one holding the bat bowed his head. “We didn’t mean to hit it so far!”
Neol lightly tossed the baseball back to them and said, “Be more careful next time and play in a park instead of in the streets.”
“We will!” The kids waved and then ran off again.
Rena watched them leave, still shaken up.
Seeing that, Neol held out the cup he snatched on the way out. “Here. You might want this.”
Rena blinked. “What? Oh.” She saw the shake and said, “You grabbed that for me?”
Neol handed it over and said, “Of course. I spent money on it… Besides, aren’t you dirt poor right now?”
“Hmph.” Rena huffed… but she didn’t refuse the shake, quietly sipping on it.
|
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|
I didn’t respond to the Emperor’s words and just observed him for a moment.
That the Emperor remained composed despite the turn of events showed that his title wasn’t for show.
Still, he was only a secondary concern of mine. So, instead of answering him, I focused my attention on everyone else.
It looked like Xinxin had positioned the groups accordingly when she brought everyone back. Erik and the other people from the Heaven-Seizing Dragon Sect were behind us while the demons, Nero, Moros, Eris, and Eve, were off to the side. As for the Emperor and his people, Xinxin had placed them across from us.
From an outside perspective, it would have looked like a stand-off, with the demons as a third party. That was especially true considering the looming and withered husk of Yggdrasil behind the Imperial troops.
Of course, that wasn’t happening any time soon considering the disoriented state most of the people were in.
The Emperor, realizing that I had no intention of answering him, raised an eyebrow and then shifted his gaze to Xinxin. When he did, his eyes widened a bit, flitting between me and my disciple.
Somehow, I had the sense that he was getting a misunderstanding… but it didn’t matter enough to correct him.
At that time, Aria stepped behind me. Titania followed after her, though she seemed to do so more out of self-restraint than concern like Aria had.
Emperor Elio noticed and looked like he wanted to say something. Before he could though, Erik stepped forward. The Heavenly King brushed off his robes and said, “It appears that everyone returned in short order without harm.” He turned to Xinxin and bowed. “Thank you for your grace, Heaven-Seizer.”
Xinxin nodded back. “It was nothing.”
A brief interaction, but enough to change the subject and make a small power play.
I had to admit that my disciple’s secretary… or rather, the manager of the sect, seemed to be fairly competent in politics.
The Emperor noticed that and shifted his attention to Erik instead.
Erik met the Emperor’s gaze and said, “Now then, should we prepare for the summit?”
Emperor Elio nodded. “Yes. It would best to get that underway before any other unexpected developments occur. However, that person…”
After saying that, the Emperor shifted his gaze to me again, as if puzzled.
Xinxin stepped between us and said, “There is no problem with his presence. If need be, he is in a position to stand in my place, so there is no concern.”
Emperor Elio blinked and said, “That was not what I was concerned about… but very well. I will defer to your judgment, Heaven-Seizer.” After that, he shifted his gaze to the distance and said, “However… should we wait for the Demon Lord to arrive before we begin? Or-“
At that time, a young female voice cut in. “No worries.” Eve walked over, followed closely by Nero, and then the two archfiends Moros and Eris. “Since it’s become like this, I can stand in for my father.”
Erik glanced over and then paused before saying, “Yes. I suppose that can work.”
Emperor Elio blinked and then turned to Eve. “You… have the authority to speak on behalf of the demons?”
Eva rolled her eyes. “You kidnapped me after the inheritance ceremony and didn’t know that I already obtained the title?”
“That…” The Emperor’s composure cracked at that and then he placed his hand on his forehead. “That’s right. What a tangled mess this has become.”
Erik clapped his hands and said, “Well then. As that has been settled, I will prepare the stage for the discussion.” He turned to look at Titania and said, “Miss Titania, would you lend me your support?”
Titania blinked. “Me?”
Erik nodded. “While I do not anticipate another event like before, it would be best to be careful and move with your cooperation.”
Titania frowned and glanced towards Xinxin.
Xinxin nodded.
Seeing that, Titania walked towards Erik and sighed. “I do not know of how much help I will be… but so be it.”
Erik nodded and said, “That is all that I ask.” With that said, the two wandered off, heading back to the rest of the sect members.
When they left, Eve stretched and pulled out a book from a fold of darkness. With a yawn, she waved it at the Emperor and said, “I’ll go and take a break then. Tell my brother to get me when it’s time to talk.” That said, she quickly walked off to the side and into the forest.
“W-Wait! Eve!” Nero ran off after her, but it seemed that Eve was prepared and quickly dashed off.
Moros bowed his head and said, “My apologies.”
Eris bowed as well and said, “We bid our leave. Emperor, Heaven-Seizer, Grandmaster.”
I furrowed my brow at that title, but before I could say anything, the two archfiends ran off as well.
That left me, the Emperor, Aria, and Xinxin.
The Emperor frowned and then glanced backwards to his troops. After, he made a brief hand signal. With that, the group of armored men began to disperse, moving off to the side and setting up camp.
When that was done, the Emperor relaxed and then shook his head. Glancing at Xinxin, he said, “Apologies for the mess. It appears that everything has become more tangled than expected.”
Xinxin nodded. “That’s to be expected from being involved with that woman.”
Emperor Elio laughed and then looked to me. “I apologize for any rudeness that I might have shown you, as well as showing hospitality towards your impersonator.”
“…It’s fine.”
Elio nodded and then said, “Now… I’m afraid that I have to apologize for another bit of rudeness.” He glanced to Xinxin and said, “There was something I wished to discuss with the Heaven-Seizer in private.”
Xinxin frowned and looked to me. “Sifu?”
“That’s-“
A faint pulse in the distance. A tug at something inside of me.
I frowned and then said, “…Fine. There’s something I need to do as well.”
A resonance. Something calling from deep within Yggdrasil.
Xinxin looked a bit concerned, but on seeing my expression, she nodded. “As you say, Sifu.”
I glanced back at Aria. “Stay with Xinxin. I-“
“No.” Aria shook her head and quickly moved to my side. “I won’t let you go alone.”
I frowned and then shifted my attention to Xinxin.
Her gaze was unreadable, but I had the sense that she didn’t quite approve of Aria’s actions. Still, she sighed and gave a faint nod of her head.
The Emperor noticed, but was at least tactful enough to not ask.
I turned my attention back at Aria only to met with her adamant gaze.
Seeing that, I sighed and started walking towards Yggdrasil.
Aria smiled and quickly walked to my side.
…Just what was it with these obstinate women who didn’t care for their own safety?
HappyVainGlory
Hah, getting back into the flow is always a bit difficult. Hopefully the writing's not as stale as I felt it to be when writing, but if it is, apologies for it in advance.
Thanks for reading, especially the comments! I'll make my way through all of the ones I missed this weekend and reply then!
See you some time tomorrow with either a chapter or a note if I run out of time!
|
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The northern edge of the Ancient Forest. Standing a top the highest tree there, a man wreathed in darkness stared off into the distance. Seeing the army stationed in the fields within a day's march of the forest, the man muttered, "It's almost time, huh?"
A woman with golden hair and emerald eyes landed on a branch beside the man. A pure white bow was strapped on her back, along with a quiver of silver arrows. Wearing a dark green tunic and leather pants, along with matching boots, she blended in with the surroundings almost perfectly, if not for her hair.
The man turned to look at her and said, "I'm guessing everyone's in position, Aria?"
Aria brushed her hair behind her pointed ears and said, "Yep. We're just waiting on your orders, Nazin. Though..." She frowned and looked at her clothes. "Do I *have* to wear this outfit?"
Nazin smiled and said, "I know you like wearing black, but something like that's going to stand out in the forest, you know?"
She gave Nazin a blank look and pointed at the black smoke around him. "And your appearance won't?"
"That's what Information Concealment is for."
"And what, you can't use your magical Grant Skill to give that to our clothes?"
Nazin sighed. "If only I could. It would make all of this a lot simpler at least."
Unfortunately for them all, Information Concealment was apparently a unique skill that only he could use. Sure, [Grant Skill] would allow him to attach it to other people and equipment, but the effect wouldn't apply. All that it did was just show up in the status screen.
Nazin shook his head and then glanced at Aria. "What? Do you not like those colors?"
"It's not that. Just... I don't want people to think that I'm not fighting with you."
"That makes it seem like you want my mark on you or something."
Aria tilted her head and stared at Nazin. "But I do?"
"..." Nazin coughed and said, "How are the others? I know that Fi said she wanted to check on something in the Lost Woods and would show up later, but is Tani doing well?"
Aria rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, thank you very much. And my dear older sister is as well."
"Ah." Nazin furrowed his brow and said, "I didn't mean-"
Aria sighed. "I know. She's much frailer than I am and you don't have to worry about me as much." She shook her head and said, "I guess I'm just a bit jealous."
"...Sorry."
"It's fine." Aria let out a bright smile and said, "The important Demon Lord Nazin has been busy with a lot of things. But don't think I'll let you off easy when this is settled. I'm dragging you away for a week on my own whether you agree or not, Mister!"
Nazin laughed. "Yeah, I owe you that much at least." He shifted his gaze back to the Imperial Troops stationed below.
Aria moved close to Nazin and looked as well. "Is something wrong?"
"No. It's just..." He frowned and said, "They've been quiet. Not only that, but I haven't been able to use Analysis on them recently either."
"Well... Maybe it's because Serena doesn't want you to?"
Nazin shook his head. "No. If that was true, she would say as much. Right now though..."
Every time he used Analysis, it came up blank. It didn't fail, since 'something' came back. But it was more like he couldn't perceive it. Like how the naked human eye couldn't perceive ultraviolet light.
"...It's probably fine."
Nothing could go wrong at this point. The preparations had been set and even if that Emperor had something up his sleeve, Nazin was certain that he could counter it.
Aria laughed and said, "You worry too much." She smiled and said, "You're the strongest person in the world, and if all else fails, you can go back in time, can't you?"
"I would rather not... But I suppose that's true."
Aria made a good point. [Absolute Memory] would let him try again as many times as possible to reach the end. Not only that, but even if he failed against an overwhelming force, he would just get stronger and try again later.
Time... had no meaning for him. At least in terms of preparation. Even so... Why did he have this sinking sensation that something was wrong?
"Come on." Aria reached over to grab Nazin's arm and said, "There's no point standing up here and worrying. Daddy wanted to talk with you, so why don't you do that instead of moping around here?"
"Aultry wants to talk with me?" Nazin frowned and said, "But everything should be settled-"
"Let's just go already!" Aria tugged on Nazin's arm and then jumped off.
As expected, gravity took over and Nazin started to fall along with Aria. Before they dropped even a few feet though, darkness flared around the two before being bolstered by light, suspending them both in mid-air.
Nazin pulled Aria close to his side and said, "Do you always have to do that when I'm high up some place?"
Aria stuck out her tongue and said, "Well, if I want you to move it's always fastest to put myself in danger, isn't it, my dear savior?"
"Hah..." Nazin shook his head and said, "Just where did that sweet and naive young woman disappear to?"
"Well, after that night-"
Nazin coughed and then started moving through the air. "A-Anyway... Aultry's in the main encampment, right?"
Aria noticed the change in topic, but she simply shook her head and let it slide. After, she nodded and twisted in Nazin's grip and pointed towards the center of the Ancient Forest. "That's right. Daddy said that he'd be waiting for you in his camp. It's nothing urgent, but he wanted to make sure to talk with you before the battle started."
"Hm... Alright." Nazin changed directions and headed towards where Aria pointed. As he did though... "Do you really have to hug me so tight?"
"Mm?" Aria leaned looked up into Nazin's eyes and said, "What? Do you not like it?"
"It's not that I don't... but you can fly just as well, can't you?"
Saphira had put Aria through the wringer in the past few weeks. While not to the extent of being able to fight one of those hidden monsters in the Lost Woods, flying with her Dark Wind magic should be a piece of cake.
"I could," Aria said. "But why do that when I can be treated like the princess I am?"
"Hah..." Nazin shook his head and then continued along the way.
"Thank you for returning so soon, Son-in-law." Aultry set a cup of tea down on the table in front of Nazin.
"It's fine." Nazin picked up the cup of tea and said, "Though... it's still weird hearing you call me that."
A makeshift house, woven together by tree branches with Yggdrasil's blessing. That was where Aultry wanted to meet Nazin, and where Nazin headed after Aria's message.
As for that mishievous elven princess herself, she left Nazin after they arrived, claiming that she didn't want to intrude on father-son bonding time.
An obvious lie, considering the countless other times she had barged in when he was meeting with her father, but nothing too important in the grand scheme of things.
Nazin took a sip from his tea and glanced around the room.
It was essentially the same as one from a proper home in Alvheim. Woven branch floors, walls, ceiling. Even the table and chairs they were using were the same as in Yggdrasil, with the only difference being the view outside the window were darkened trees instead of the bright blue sky.
Having taken in the surroundings, Nazin turned his gaze to the one seated across from him.
A seemingly young man with a handsome face and white hair, set in slightly ruffled spikes. His eyes were a clear blue, but the faint wrinkles at their corners showed his age. At the moment, he was dressed in a dark green tunic and black pants, but off to the side there were a pair of swords and chain mail.
Aultry, the current King of Alvheim, as well as the father of Aria and Titania.
Meeting Nazin's gaze, Aultry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I truly hope that events unfold as we planned."
"It will."
Nazin had armed the elves with armor to negate Chaos magic and weapons to channel Yggdrasil's blessing. Not only that, but he had that Akira guy he captured a while back spying on the troops as well.
With that person's [Reading] ability and the connection Nazin had created with the guy through [Dragon's Grasp], Nazin would immediately know if something important was happening.
So far though, that guy said that the troops were just on standby.
Nothing to worry about... barring the fact that Nazin couldn't use [Analysis] on the Imperial Forces anymore.
Aultry took a sip from his tea and then smiled. "Well now, if my Son-in-law is that confident, I suppose I can't be too worried now, can I?"
Nazin set down his cup of tea and then said, "What did you want to talk about, anyway? Were you just worried?"
They had already gone over the plan in the past few days with that Demon Lord Krozma. Not only that, but everyone was already prepared to act on a moment's notice. That meant this meeting couldn't be about the upcoming battle...
"I am still a bit concerned. But you're right." Aultry set his cup of tea down as well and said, "There is something else I want to discuss with you."
Nazin nodded. "I'm listening."
"You see..."
Nazin took a sip from his tea cup.
"...Tani is pregnant."
"Pft- Kuh... gah..." Nazin quickly set his tea cup down and smacked his chest to clear his throat of the tea that went down the wrong pipe. That done, he blinked and looked at Aultry. "E-Excuse me? Tani is what?"
Aultry laughed and then waved his hand. "Relax. Just a bit of levity to lighten the mood."
Nazin glared at Aultry and said, "That's not a good joke to make."
"True... And I suppose that she isn't, from your reaction." Aultry sighed and said, "Just when will I be able to pass down this role of mine? I've been waiting to retire for centuries now, you know?"
"...Right."
Aultry smiled, but then he straightened his face. "Jokes aside... I do have something serious to say."
Seeing that Aultry stopped messing around, Nazin nodded and became serious as well. "Alright. But if it's another jab about grandchildren..."
"Don't worry. With how aggressive those girls are, that's just a matter of time."
Nazin paused. That... well, he couldn't really deny that.
Aultry leaned back and said, "I wasn't joking about wanting to retire though. After this battle, why don't you take over as king?"
"Huh?" Nazin blinked. "King? Me?"
Aultry nodded. "That's right. After the battle is over, I have no doubts that you would be received with open arms. Your reputation is already at an all-time high for saving us, but after this... Well." He laughed and said, "It's more likely I'll have people clamoring to get rid of me. Better that I peaceably abdicate rather than get tossed out, right?"
Nazin frowned. "Isn't the King of Alvheim a hereditary role though? Not to mention the fact that I'm not an elf."
"It's fine." Aultry waved his hand and said, "The main point about the King's role is to serve as Yggdrasil's guardian and oversee her children anyway. Considering your position as Yggdrasil's champion, this is only a formality. And either way, as the beloved of Alvheim's first princess, you would play a role in governing it regardless. Think of this as just... expediting the process."
Nazin sighed.
Aultry had a point. Nazin's popularity was at an all-time high, and the events were already lining up to head in the direction that Aultry predicted.
Still...
Nazin shook his head and finished his tea. "Let's talk about that after the battle."
It was still too early for talk like that.
Aultry gave Nazin a steady gaze and then nodded. "That's fine. I just wanted to bring it up in the event that something happens."
"It won't."
Aultry laughed and then stood up. He walked over to pat Nazin on the shoulder and said, "I'll believe in you then, Son-in-law. For now..." He stretched and said, "I think I'll go for a walk. There hasn't been much for me to do." He picked up his swords and chainmail and then walked off.
Nazin watched him leave and frowned. "...It'll be fine."
A death flag. That definitely felt like a death flag for Aultry.
"Well... I'll just have to make sure it doesn't get triggered then."
Nazin had already determined himself to go beyond the 'route' that Serena laid down and break that future.
Another event wasn't too much to worry about.
Now, the only thing left to do was-
*Hey. Mister Nobody or whatever you call yourself. Those guys are heading out now. Might want to get ready.*
A spiteful and irritated male voice. One that belonged to Akira, the spy Nazin left among the Braves in the Imperial Army.
"Alright. Try not to die."
*Hah... What a pain. Whatever. I did my job so I'm bailing now. That was the deal, right?*
"As long as you don't betray us."
*Don't worry. Not like I can with that cheating Dragon's Grasp or whatever...*
Akira's voice cut out.
Nazin stood up, leaving his tea behind. "...Looks like it's time to settle this."
He closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for a few moments.
Aria. Fi. Tani... for everyone here and for the sake of the world.
Light flared, shadowed by an undercurrent of darkness. With that, Nazin vanished, returning once more to the front lines.
|
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|
Xinxin stepped forward, cutting down arrows and spells aimed at her. Stepping forward again, her sword cut through the air, sending a dozen elven warriors to their knees, lifeless.
More threw themselves in her path, realizing her target. But it was pointless.
A single slash cleared the way, blood scattering like cherry blossoms upon the ground.
“EMPEROR!” From the side, a guttural roar erupted, followed by a tremor in the ground.
Xinxin shifted her attention for a brief moment to make sure that the others weren’t being overwhelmed, but Elio easily blocked the charging Demon Lord with his sword. Not only that, but Nero and Eve were properly supporting him.
With that settled, she turned her focus back on her own opponent.
Nazin took a step back, his hand going towards his sword. But he hesitated, as if reluctant to fight.
That was fine with her. Xinxin narrowed her eyes, stepping forward again to close the gap-
Screeching wind. Arrows, wrapped in darkness.
Xinxin clicked her tongue, glancing at the projectiles. But she didn’t bother trying to block them.
The sound of ringing crystal, like a wine glass being struck by a silver spoon.
The arrows collided with Xinxin but bounced off her skin and clothing without a scratch. Afterwards, they fell to the ground, useless.
“Nazin! Focus!” The blonde elf called out and then pushed Nazin to the side, her bow aimed at Xinxin.
“Aria?!”
“Don’t be enchanted by her appearance and fight, you idiot!”
Again, the arrows were launched at Xinxin. This time from point blank range.
But again, Xinxin didn’t bother to deflect them, instead turning to slash at Nazin.
His eyes widened but then he drew his sword, shining with light, and slashed back at her.
The blades collided, sparks flying.
Xxx
Blood. Death cries. Clashing steel.
The Ancient Forest, razed to the ground with only pieces of it remaining.
Nazin saw it all and grit his teeth, straining as he locked swords with the raven-haired woman standing in front of him. “You…! Why are you here?”
Beautiful. That woman was like an ethereal immortal descended from the skies. But that beauty was a lie. Rather than a pure fairy, she was a demon, caring not one bit for life.
The woman smiled, her crimson lips tracing out a thin curve. “I should ask that of you, Faker. Why have you not yet returned to him?”
Nazin tensed.
That… was that why she was here? Because ‘he’ sent her?
From the side, Aria clenched her bow and aimed an arrow at the woman. The previous volleys hadn’t worked, but it seemed that Aria was going all out this time, supercharging a single arrow at point blank range. “Who are you calling a Faker, you witch!?”
The woman’s eyes flitted towards Aria. “Mm… There is you as well.” After that, they glanced at someone in the distance. “And a betrayer in the midst as well.”
Nazin followed her gaze to see the woman staring at Titania.
The elder elf princess ran over, a pair of emerald long swords drawn in both hands. “I apologize for the delay, Lord Nazin!”
Aria fired her arrow.
The woman ignored it, staring at Titania.
An instinctive reaction. Nazin didn’t perceive it, but he warped to right in front of Titania and swung his sword.
An explosion of dark wind razed the remaining forest.
At the same time, sparks of light and darkness erupted as Nazin parried a slash from the woman.
“Hoh?” The woman raised an eyebrow, easily holding Nazin at bay with one hand while tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with the other. “So you can use some of Sifu’s abilities as well.”
Nazin grit his teeth and stepped forward, straining with all his might. At the same time, he channeled Light’s Order, intending to use it to bolster his strength against that woman’s darkness.
And then his sword swept through empty air.
Nazin staggered, quickly regaining his balance. As he did, he saw the woman standing off to the side, a few meters away. Her sword was lowered and her silky black hair flowed in a formless wind, drifting like dark smoke.
“Nazin!”
“Lord Nazin!”
Aria and Titania ran over to him, concern in their eyes.
He didn’t respond, instead carefully observing the woman in case she attacked again.
But she didn’t. Instead, her violet eyes flicked towards Aria and Titania before she nodded. “This is perfect. While I can’t get rid of that disloyal snake, this works just as well. You see…” Dark flames erupted along her sword and she smiled. “I’ve been under quite a bit of stress recently. This should help alleviate a bit of that.”
Nazin tensed, tightening his grip on his sword.
“Lord Nazin…” Titania carefully held up her sword and said, “What do we do?”
Aria clicked her tongue and tossed her bow to the side. At the same time, she drew a knife sheathed at her side before wrapping it in dark wind and staring at the woman. “Of all the times for that old hag to be missing… We could really use her firepower.”
Seeing the woman stand idly with her sword, Nazin raised his own and said, “What else can we do? We fight… and we win.”
Rousing his mana, he charged. At the same time, he threw out his left hand, using Dragon’s Grasp to try and keep the woman still to create an opening.
She smiled.
Off to the side, further back in the forest, another clash occurred.
Nero jumped out of the way of a dark shockwave and then said, “Father! Stop this!”
Demon Lord Krozma spun to look at the white-haired demon and roared. “NERO! SO YOU BETRAYED ME!”
He flinched. “N-No! I never did!”
The monstrous Demon Lord swept out his hand, sending another dark shockwave.
Eve moved to Nero’s side and swept her hand as well, causing the shockwave to scatter. “It’s useless, Brother. Father is not in a rational state of mind.”
Krozma growled, his crimson eyes settling on Eve. “EVE…! SO YOU BETRAYED ME AS WELL! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN YOU WOULD SCHEME BEHIND MY BACK!"
Eve shrugged. "See?"
Nero grit his teeth.
Krozma swung his head up like a feral beast and then roared. With it, dark lightning crackled into existence before racing towards the demon siblings.
At that time, Elio stepped in, his sword raised. A ripple swept out over the area and the lightning raced towards his sword, drawn in like a lightning rod. Immediately after, his blade glowed and a burst of white light shot out towards the Demon Lord.
Krozma growled and swept his hands to the side, dark claws forming. With it, the light split apart, crashing behind him.
Explosions erupted in the ground, sending dirt and ash into the air.
Elio frowned and then said, “I apologize for the reminder, but remember that this is not your father, Nero. That person is still waiting back in our world. Holding back here will only mean that he will never see you again.”
“That’s…” Nero muttered and then, with a sigh, raised his sword. “That’s right.”
Krozma narrowed his eyes. “WHAT NONSENSE ARE YOU SAYING?!”
"Nothing that matters to you, Oh Demon Lord.” Elio smiled and said, “Now... I'm loathe to play the part after everything I've gone through, but let's act out this fight as a hero against the villain now, shall we?"
Eve nodded, raising her left hand. With it, darkness swirled around her, laced with crimson energy. “My apologies, Father. I’ll say it again when we meet once more in the next world.”
Nero let out a nervous laugh. “That makes it sound like we’re going to die here, Eve.”
She nodded. “Either we do… or Father will. Since he has used the Heart of Darkness in that manner, this will only end when either he or the world perishes.”
“…Dammit.” Nero clenched his teeth.
Elio raised his sword. “Prepare yourselves. I will lead, just match my steps.”
Krozma roared.
|
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|
The misty white forest of the Lost Woods.
A behemoth charged towards me, its maw crackling with lightning. Furred limbs rippling with muscles stomped on the ground, breaking into the earth to anchor it.
I ran forward, a blade of darkness in my right hand.
Lightning sprayed from the monster’s mouth, aimed at me.
“You will not touch him.” A cold and stern voice. Saphira’s. With it, the lightning bent, flying off to the side. In exchange, a blast of white lightning struck the behemoth, singeing its fur.
It roared in pain and then ripped its front paws out from the ground, swinging one at me.
“Mister Nowun! Jump!”
I did, and then a gust of wind gathered at my feet, launching me up.
The behemoth turned its head, glaring at me with golden eyes. It opened its maw to bite me. But-
“It’s a mistake to ignore me!”
From the side, a woman with honey-colored hair and a sword that looked similar to my own, black with crimson lines, charged and pierced into the behemoth’s side.
It roared, thrashing to try and shake Titania off. But then it froze, its golden eyes locking back on me.
I swung my blade.
A thin line, tracing along the monster’s entire body.
I landed, lightly touching down on the monster’s head.
It stared at me, its golden eyes wide in disbelief.
And then, it crumbled, dissolving into misty smoke.
I jumped backwards, landing on the ground. The moment I did, the surroundings changed. At the same time, I got a headache, a fragment of a memory.
A dark cavern, displayed within a bright screen. A young woman, muttering to herself as she tapped on a tablet at her side.
I winced, clutching my head.
Aria walked over to me and said, “Mister Nowun? Are you alright?”
I lowered my hand and nodded. “I’m fine.”
The surroundings returned to being the Lost Woods, that scene erased like a forgotten memory.
I walked forward, following the path that would ordinarily lead out if this was the ordinary Lost Woods.
Saphira quickly moved to my side. “Are you certain that you are well, Master?”
I nodded. “Like I said, I’m fine. It’s just…” I frowned. “It seems like I’ve forgotten a lot of things.”
Saphira looked concerned and said, “Be wary. This place will do that to you if you stay too long. Even I…” She trailed off, not wanting to say it.
Titania sheathed her sword and walked over. “Just what kind of mess did you land us in this time, Nowun? You explained a bit about that goddess, but this place… where are we exactly? And why am I here?”
“If I knew, I would tell you. But I don’t, so there you have it.”
Titania sighed. “Hah… I still cannot see how women put up with you.”
“And I can see why you are still unmarried.”
“You-!”
Aria jumped between me and Titania, holding up her hands. “Please! Not now, Tani! Mister Nowun!”
Titania looked at Aria and then shook her head.
I sighed and did the same. “Sorry. Just…” I frowned and said, “Something about this place gets on my nerves.”
Titania frowned. “I can at least agree with you on that.” She looked around and said, “This place… even for the Lost Woods, it seems… different. Not to mention all of these monsters… What was that? The third one that appeared out of thin air?”
“Let’s keep going.” I walked forward and said, “Saphira, Titania. Stay close to Aria. I’ll lead.”
“As you wish, Master.”
“Of course.”
There was no point in sticking around, and so there wasn’t any disagreements with my decision. Well, Aria seemed a bit upset by the arrangement, but went along with it.
We slowly advanced, carefully keeping an eye out.
To be sure, I even used spiritual sense… but as before, it seemed muffled. Not only that, but it hadn’t worked in time to catch the other monsters ambushing us, so-
Suddenly, the forest shifted. The misty woods vanished, replaced by a long corridor lined with obsidian bricks.
“Nowun?” Titania’s questioning voice echoed.
I narrowed my eyes and materialized the memory of my Faithful Companion. Glancing back, I muttered, “Be on your guard. And Aria, stay close to the others.”
She nodded.
Seeing that, I turned my gaze back forward.
As we advanced, torches lit up along the walls. Gray flames with azure flickering within them.
I frowned, carefully drawing on my cultivation base and my mana pool, preparing to use everything at once in the worst case scenario.
It was ominous. The setup was like the prelude to a final boss- No, a hidden boss. The superboss that was at least a magnitude stronger than the final boss.
Except that this was reality.
The end of the corridor was wreathed in darkness, one so thorough that even I couldn’t perceive what lay within.
…No. That wasn’t quite true. The reason was because the ‘rules’ that made up that darkness didn’t abide by the normal laws. Rather than the absence of light that darkness should be, it was something that devoured light, a radiation in itself rather than the absence of that radiation.
Even so, as we advanced, the torches on the walls lit up, illuminating that darkness little by little.
Saphira muttered, “Master. This place…”
“It’s dangerous. I know.”
I could sense it now.
We walked over half of the corridor. And when we crossed that threshold, a ‘presence’ emerged despite being hidden by the shadow.
And then we arrived. A step before the end of the hallway.
From it, I could see the figure of someone seated upon a dark throne. And on the sides, encircling the room, I could see unlit torches.
It was clear that they would light up the moment we crossed the boundary. At the same time, whatever figure waited there in the darkness would emerge.
At the moment, the figure was at rest. Whether because it was sleeping, frozen in time, or whatever, I wasn’t sure. But the moment that the torches lit up, it would act.
But, the only way out was a corridor off to the left.
I hesitated.
That figure was strong. Stronger than Serena and in turn myself. More than that… the nature of that power was different. Something that gave only despair, that grew stronger the more hopeless a situation became…
“M-Mister Nowun?”
Did Aria sense my concern? She looked at the figure and then at me and said, “What do we do?”
Titania placed a hand on her sword and said, “Do we fight?”
Sweat formed on Saphira’s brow as she stared at the figure. “Master… I… do not believe we can win against that.”
“I know.”
The worst match up. Since we were in an unknown territory and that figure’s power grew with despair and hopelessness…
“So we won’t fight it.” I glanced at the open corridor and gauged the distance.
It wasn’t far. About the size of an average room. But to a being that was on the level of Serena and myself, perhaps beyond, that might as well have been the edge of the universe.
Still…
“Saphira. Did you notice any other paths on the way forward?”
“None, Master. And the entrance we walked through vanished as well.”
“I thought so.”
Like she said, this was a place lost to time and space. A realm similar to the boundary of life and death.
And from what we had gone through so far, also a place where countless worlds intersected, housing only beings that could persist in such a timeless space.
“…We’re going. But the moment we cross…” I glanced back and said, “Saphira, take Aria and run to the exit. Titania, use wind magic to speed yourselves up… You do the same, Aria.”
Aria’s eyes widened. “But Mister Nowun, what about-“
“I’ll be fine.” I carefully gauged the figure and what I could glean from the power he emanated. “I’m pretty sure that guy can’t bend space… Well, at least 75% sure. When you guys cross the threshold, I’ll jump after you.”
Aria looked doubtful.
Saphira did as well.
As for Titania…
“Alright. But you had better come after us. If we die, I am absolutely going to return as a vengeful spirit to haunt you, even if it takes until the end of time.”
I smile. “It won’t reach that point. But if that happens, feel free. Now…” I put on a stern face. “We go on three. Remember, don’t bother trying to block, fight, or defend yourselves. Just run. I’ll handle the rest.”
Saphira picked up Aria.
Titania moved to the edge, lowering her body.
“Three.”
Wind stirred around Titania and Saphira.
“Two.”
Saphira let out a long breath and lowered her body as well to pounce.
“One.”
A frosty wind joined the gale surrounding Titania and Saphira.
“Go!”
We charged forward.
Saphira and Titania instantly charged left while I dashed at the figure.
Torches blazed to life, illuminating the chamber. And like that, I could see what was seated upon the throne.
It was a young man, at most twenty years old. He looked Western, with blond hair and blue eyes. But those blue eyes were cold, desolate. No, lifeless. Weary, as if waiting for time itself to come to an end. But, the moment he locked eye contact with me, life blazed into his eyes. Fury, a frosty wrath.
He stood up, holding his hand out to the side. At once, a rusted sword emerged. Black armor, tattered and torn, emerged upon his body. At the same time, his lifeless blue eyes were stained crimson, his iris suddenly laced with red lines, shimmering an odd hue like a mix of ruby and sapphire.
I instinctively froze when I saw that.
A piercing gaze, as if seeing through everything that made me up. Eyes that peered into the abyss of death itself and thus actualizing it into reality.
-The end.
An intuitive understanding.
Even if I had an Absolute Memory, what that man possessed was the power to end even that. To close the book on the story of one’s life, no matter what sort of being stood before him.
“Nowun!” Titania shouted.
How much time had passed?
I didn’t know how long I had been frozen, staring at the man, but it seemed to be long enough for the girls to cross over.
The man’s gaze flicked to the side and he reached for his sword.
Seeing that, I quickly lashed out.
Darkness, the divine lightning I took from the White Tiger back in the Xia Dynasty, mana, spiritual energy… I quickly threw everything, trying to buy a bit of time.
But it didn’t do anything.
The moment that it reached the man, my attacks crumbled, reduced to nothing. Not nullified or erased, but as if they were completed without touching him.
Still, it seemed to make the man hesitate since he didn’t grab his sword.
And seeing that he hesitated, I didn’t. In that brief moment, I quickly tore through space to reunite with the girls, not once looking back. At the same time, I made sure to block his vision with my body so that any attack would hit me first.
But… none came.
Glancing back as I ran into the hallway, I saw the man standing there, staring at me with a wry smile.
But I didn’t stop to ponder it.
I ran towards the three women and then grabbed them.
“M-Master?!”
“Mister Nowun!”
“The hell are you doing, Bastard?!”
Surprised exclamations sounded out in protest, but I didn’t care.
Wrapping them all close, I quickly kicked off, bending space to put as much distance between us and that man.
And then the corridor vanished, revealing only an empty void.
But that was bad.
I could sense it. There was actually nothing here. A pure void in every sense of the word.
At the same time, I felt the girls gasping for air, or trying to.
There wasn’t time.
So I didn’t stop to think.
While it was a void, there were still strands of karma scattered around. Connections to me that existed even when nothing did.
Most were splintered, frayed, or faded. But there was a single string, as thin as a spider’s thread that I could trace.
Without hesitation, I bent time and space, moving through the void with that single thread as my guide.
As I moved through that void, I caught glimpses of other places. Parallel worlds.
One was with a young boy that looked similar to Wang Tian, a sword forgotten at his side while he chatted with a beautiful young girl.
Another had a young man with spiky black hair, desperately running away from a pink-haired goddess.
Another had a solemn man with light blue hair, carefully making his way through a dark labyrinth with a woman that had silver hair tinged gold.
Countless others emerged before my eyes. But then, the changing scenery stopped, revealing a familiar location.
I stepped onto the ground, collapsing to my knees. Even so, I had the sense of mind to twist and make sure I didn’t land on anyone, sending them up to land safely.
Gasps for air. Coughing.
And far above, a towering tree with emerald leaves, obscuring a brilliant blue sky.
|
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"Time Manipulation",
"Transplanted Memories",
"Transported into Another World"
]
}
|
A beautiful woman with flowing golden hair. A pristine white dress radiating light and divine grace. Gently staring at the silver blade of the Sword of Mana, she looked like a curious and pure maiden.
But she wasn't. How could she be that when she had forcibly taken over Aria's body? No, her entire being?
I felt the urge to attack. To step forward and use everything I had to force her out and bring Aria back. But I didn't.
Something told me that would be wrong. An intuition that said that was exactly what she wanted me to do. That this would play out exactly like she desired if I tried to solve the situation with force.
So instead, I calmed myself and watched her.
After a moment, the woman... No, the 'Goddess' turned to look at me. She smiled and said, "How surprising. To have evaded me by such a narrow margin... Should I admire your fortune? Or should I praise this girl's determination to protect you?"
It was a chilling gaze. The callous sort that belonged to a predator staring at a prey that she planned to toy with before devouring. One that was completely at odds with Aria's usual demeanor... as well as the Goddess that I remembered.
"No matter." The divine being in Aria's body slowly twirled, examining her body, and said, "This girl isn't so bad... The affinity between us is surprisingly high." She glanced back at me and said, "I would have preferred a powerful vessel like your own, but I can make do with this."
Hearing those words confirmed it. I narrowed my eyes and then slowly gathered my power, mixing mana and spiritual energy. "You... are not Serena."
"Hm?" The person in Aria's body blinked and then smiled, coyly placing a finger on her chin. "Mm... That is true. That girl is different from me. But... I suppose you can say we have a shared origin as a Goddess? Or rather, her power comes from my own?"
A sudden realization. Hearing that, the Goddess- No, Serena's actions made sense. The dichotomy in how she seemed to act at times, switching from playful to callous, caring to cold.
The person in Aria's body laughed, a haughty sound that shouldn't come from Aria's lips. "In any case, I have to thank you." She smiled and stepped forward, slightly swaying her... Aria's hips as she moved. "If you hadn't drawn that girl's attention so much, I might have never been able to act." She stopped and placed her left hand over her chest and said, "From the bottom of my heart, I thank you, Mister 'No One'."
It was wrong. Hearing Aria's voice speak in that tone, seeing those mannerisms in her body...
"In any case." The unknown Goddess idly raised the Sword of Mana and said, "I have quite the number of tasks to accomplish now that I'm free." She glanced back at me and said, "I would love to stay around and enjoy my time with a man like you, but-"
A flicker of darkness cut towards the Goddess's neck. A glint of silver flashed to intercept it.
I stepped forward, pressing down with a recreation of my Faithful Companion, trying to sever the Goddess's divinity from Aria's soul.
But I couldn't advance.
Easily stopping my attack with the Sword of Mana, the unknown Goddess tilted her head and smiled. "Oh my. Did I strike a nerve?"
I reinforced my body and pushed harder. "You aren't going anywhere with Aria's body."
Light flickered around the unknown Goddess and she leaned forward, bringing Aria's face right in front of my own. Again, with that damnable smile, she said, "And what makes you think you can stop me?"
The unknown Goddess suddenly twisted her wrist, causing the Sword of Mana to slide past my weapon.
My eyes widened and I took a step back. But the Goddess stepped forward, pressing her own advance.
I stomped my foot and held my ground. This time, the situation had reversed and that Goddess was the one who was trying to cut me down.
She licked her lips and then said, "Men like you are easy pickings, you know?"
With those words, the Sword of Mana flashed and changed. The pure white light of Order that it radiated dimmed- No. It became tainted. 'Order' twisted into 'Control' and the unblemished light turned into moonlight, carrying with it traces of lunacy.
Seeing that, I suddenly realized how this situation came about.
She was dangerous. That woman wasn't Serena. At the same time, she wasn't Aria. Even so, she managed to supplant Aria's soul, filling in the cracks and taking it over.
Instead of a Goddess of 'power' and 'authority' like Serena, this was a Goddess that acted with subtlety and manipulation. A being that existed within the gaps of Serena's domain.
A flicker of moonlight, thin as a silk thread, raced along my weapon.
Seeing that, I immediately disengaged, forcibly breaking through space to open a gap.
It wasn't much. That Goddess's presence weighed heavily on the surroundings, giving off a suppression power that was on the level of back when I first faced off against the Wrathful Sin Dragon. Because of it, I could only move a few meters back, just enough to come against the walls of the chamber.
"Hm..." The Goddess lowered her sword and said, "I'm mildly impressed. For a human to reach such a level is quite impressive, even if it's from borrowing the power of that damned bastard."
I calmed my racing heart and forced a relaxed smile on my face. "That damned bastard, huh?" Quickly scanning through my memories, I made a guess and said, "Seems like you're pretty familiar with Earth."
"Of course." She smiled and said, "The women from there always make great vessels and that damned bastard is usually too busy to keep an eye on everyone. It's a bit risky, but stealing away even just a single Earthling is worth it."
"I see."
A mistaken understanding from my own assumptions. The reason why Serena always seemed to be of two minds when it came to me. The reason why she was so much different in the past when I confronted her at the Xia Dynasty. Why she was calmer in the current era and seemed so different. That was because...
"You were the first."
"Hm?" The Goddess tilted her head, blinking in confusion.
There was a lot to think about. Mistaken premises I had to rearrange and fix. But for now... It was enough stalling.
I stepped forward again and slashed. This time though, I didn't replicate my Faithful Companion. Instead, a black blade, corroded with crimson veins swept through the air.
Silver flashed and the Goddess smiled, easily holding my attack back. "My, my. Aggressive aren't we?" She glanced at my sword and said, "A weapon like that will completely eat this girl's body up if it touches it, you know?"
I didn't bother responding. Instead, I drew in a faint thread of the Goddess's power to analyze it while feigning to strike her down.
It was sinister. A moonlight that dominated and controlled, as well as one that drove people mad. Beautiful, but insane.
Even so, it was similar to the divine light I remembered. No, like how that Goddess said, Serena's power was an offshoot of this light. The purity that remained when the lunacy was stripped away.
But by that same principle, Serena's power was inherently incomplete.
I could see it now. Why Serena wasn't completely omnipotent and omniscient. Why I could fool her in some instances when a 'true' Goddess wouldn't be fooled.
A soft sigh. "How droll," the Goddess muttered. She took a step back. At the same time, space seamlessly rippled, sending me once more to the edge of the chamber.
I could have resisted it, but instead I straightened my body and observed her.
The Goddess shook her head and said, "You cannot harm me. While I acknowledge your talent and effort in reaching the level of a dark chaos god while starting as a mere human, it is still far too soon to challenge me." She dissolved the Sword of Mana and then crossed her arms. Tilted her head and giving a condescending smile, she said, "It seems that you have an attachment to this girl, but you will have to let her go. We already have a 'pact' you see, so her soul is mine. Of course, if you have any complaints, I will be more than happy to hear them in person after I reclaim my throne."
A haughty expression. Self-righteous beliefs and condescension towards humanity.
Hearing that, I couldn't help but laugh. At the same time, I felt a cold rage simmer from within me. An emotion that arose from beyond the memories I had now.
The Goddess narrowed her eyes. "...Have you gone insane?"
I shook my head.
That Goddess was right. At the moment, my own powers were insufficient to match her. After all, it was barely sufficient to clash against Serena, so it was inevitable that I couldn't deal with that unknown Goddess.
A miscalculation. She was an unexpected variable that existed beyond the rules of this world by virtue of being beyond Serena's own powers.
Furthermore, her type of power was a bad match for the chaotic darkness that I had cultivated. Light and Order were easy to match, as my 'path' diametrically opposed those concepts, but a 'Controlling Moonlight' was something in-between both. A hybrid of Order and Chaos, of Light and Darkness.
In short, I couldn't match her with what I had obtained.
But I knew someone who could.
A man whose path was carved out by a sword tinged with bitter regret. One who shared a connection with my dear disciple and devoted his entire life to make amends.
A man whose power I acknowledged and memorized.
My understanding of it was incomplete. After all, I had only experienced it once and for just a short time period. Even so, the nature of it was compatible with the source of my powers.
Regret was born through memories of the past. Furthermore, that guy was willing to face the world itself for Xinxin, even if she never looked at him again.
So-
"A word without a sound."
The Goddess sighed. "Yet another foolish man making a desperate struggle out of love." She shook her head. "Very well. I will accept your challenge." Fully confident in her abilities, the Goddess lowered her hands and stood straight and didn't bother to summon her weapon again.
I ignored it. Instead, I pieced together the memory of Wang Tian's power and finished the elegy inscribed in the path he created.
"A blade by another name."
The world shifted. Time and space separated, revealing countless threads in its place. A realm that Wang Tian reached after being forcibly severed from his own Karma despite his wishes to hold it close.
I raised my right hand. Within it, a pure white blade emerged. But the moment it appeared, it rippled. Like a mirage shimmering in the heat haze, the sword seemed to be on the verge of fading, rejected by the world.
But I denied that rejection, using my Absolute Memory to maintain its form along with the realm of Karma.
And like that, I could see it.
A black thread wrapped around Aria's right hand, connecting to me. A faded crimson thread, heading off into the distance. And then golden chains binding her neck, arms, legs, and torso.
"You...!" A slow and distorted voice. The Goddess realized what was happening and was moving, using her powers to collapse the Karmic realm I recalled. Moonlight flickered, slowly restoring the stalled world.
But it was too late.
"Regret."
I uttered the name of that person's path and swung his sword. White light flared and was joined by the sound of shattering chains.
In that same moment, I appeared in front of Aria.
She collapsed, falling forward like a puppet without its strings.
I grabbed her before she fell to the ground. But I didn't let my guard down just yet.
The moonlight gathering before hadn't faded. Instead, it coalesced at a spot a few paces behind Aria, forming a female silhouette.
"...I knew it wouldn't be that simple."
Wang Tian's sword severed Karma, but that was all. While I managed to free Aria from that Goddess's control, it only expelled the Goddess.
The light dimmed, revealing a woman in a pure white dress with golden bangles around her arms.
Even while no longer possessing Aria’s body, the Goddess's features were still similar. They were sharper, her emerald eyes a shade darker and her face a bit more Oriental than Western like Aria's. But it was still enough to be mistaken for her.
The Goddess scowled, clutching her chest. There, a thin red line formed, staining her white dress crimson. Staring at me, she said, "I misread you. I thought it would be enough to convince that black-haired beauty to get you alone with that girl... but it seems like that damned bastard laid a trap for me again." She lowered her hand and then began gathering moonlight.
Space began to ripple, the telltale signs of trying to escape through a rift.
I lifted Aria up, carrying her in my arms like a bride, and then said narrowed my eyes. "You aren't going anywhere."
Her power was weaker now. Without a physical body, that Goddess faced the oppression of the world. At the same time, I could sense Serena's gaze, usually unpleasant, but currently a welcome addition.
The Goddess looked up and then laughed. "Trying to corner me? Both of you are still eons too young to try. But..." She lowered her gaze and stared at me again. "You are correct. I am not going anywhere... But you are."
Suddenly, the spatial distortions shifted, moving from the Goddess to myself.
I quickly tried to stabilize it, but I couldn't. At the least, not without abandoning Aria in the process.
The Goddess grinned and said, "Feel free to escape. That is, if you don't mind that girl being lost to time."
"Dammit!"
There wasn't enough time to think.
I could sense Serena trying to intervene, and in the distance I could sense Xinxin’s power flaring up to resist the distortion. But it wasn't fast enough.
With nothing else I could do, I pulled Aria close and focused on making sure she didn't vanish from my grasp.
Moonlight flared and mocking laughter echoed.
And then, silence.
HappyVainGlory
Ayah... So much time passed without me realizing it. I'd been writing ahead in the story and finishing chapters offline between studying and suddenly realized I hadn't been posting them. orz
At the same time, I don't want to flood the site with updates... Um...
Well, at least I don't have to worry about making the schedule for the next month, ahaha...?
Thanks for reading and putting up with my usual nonsense. orz
|
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"title": "No One’s Story - 85 – Siren Call – IV",
"author": "HappyVainGlory",
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"Isekai",
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"Accelerated Growth",
"Amnesia",
"Arranged Marriage",
"Cold Protagonist",
"Corruption",
"Dao Comprehension",
"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
"Enemies Become Allies",
"Fantasy World",
"Fated Lovers",
"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
"Interconnected Storylines",
"Multiple POV",
"Multiple Timelines",
"Multiple Transported Individuals",
"Past Plays a Big Role",
"Personality Changes",
"Skill Assimilation",
"Time Manipulation",
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]
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|
HappyVainGlory
Ahem. So it turns out I greatly underestimated my workload... More on that later.
A beautiful woman with pure white hair and skin just as pristine. Delicate, ethereal features that were too enchanting to be human. Crimson lips and clear blue eyes, glittering like sapphires. She wore a form fitting black dress that shifted with each step she took, barely concealing her figure beneath.
I knew her. Of course. It would be impossible for me not to after the countless number of times I died to her before finally overcoming her.
Saphira, the former Wrathful Sin Dragon… and the one who did not exist in this timeline. At least, not yet.
I had planned to bring her back after everything was settled in Alvheim. Unlike with Aria, the process would be simple considering that the bond between us was that of master and servant rather than simply ill-fate.
But there she stood, alive and well.
I blinked, wracking my mind for an explanation. It couldn’t be a result of my recovery… Then was this a trick from that Goddess? But everything I could sense told me that the one in front of me was truly Saphira and not a copy or fake.
Saphira tilted her head and then opened her mouth to speak. Yet, while her lips moved, no words came out. As if they were stolen away, only silence remained.
I frowned and glanced backwards. Maybe Titania or Aria would have some insight into this situation? “Do either of you-?” I cut off my words.
They were gone. At the same time, they weren’t. Physically, they were missing, leaving only the empty misty forest. But their presence remained.
My frown deepened and I shifted my attention back to Saphira. At least, that was my intention.
The mist grew thick and then the surroundings rippled. At the same time, space distorted, revealing the familiar forest clearing of the Lost Woods. With it, a roar echoed, slightly distorted.
“Tch.” I narrowed my eyes and swept out with my right hand.
Darkness flooded the rippling space. At the same time, the shifting forest began to solidify, rejecting the change in the surroundings to the Lost Woods.
I focused, ignoring the strange phenomenon and recalling the space that I was just in with Titania and Aria, drawing back that memory…
And then there was a faint ‘snap’.
For a brief moment, I thought I saw a few thin golden threads float in the air. But before I could focus on them, I saw that Aria and Titania were standing in front of me… and that they were different.
Aria had changed into a black form-fitting dress, with darkness clinging to her body. That in itself was odd, but then there was the way she carried herself.
The Aria with me was meek and somewhat naïve. While she had been making efforts to get past that, she still subconsciously sought someone to depend on.
But the Aria there… She was confident. Self-assured. Moreover, while she wasn’t on the level of Xinxin or myself, the way she carried herself spoke of someone who had years of experience in combat.
Like the Aria that I left behind in that far flung future.
As if to compensate for Aria’s change, Titania had changed as well. Almost as if the sisters had changed roles, the Titania there seemed hesitant and meek.
I blinked, caught off-guard at the change. But then I realized what was happening.
Aria turned around to look at me, tilting her head. It seemed like she was going to say something, but before she could, the surroundings distorted again.
This time, when everything settled down, I was standing back where I had been before the strange distortion occurred.
“Sifu?” A soft voice echoed from nearby, followed by faint footsteps.
Glancing over, I saw my dear disciple step through the mist, her robes and hair drifting behind her. At the same time, I realized that Aria was holding onto my right hand and Titania was standing off to my left, giving me a strange look.
Xinxin walked over, her eyes narrowing slightly on seeing Aria before shifting towards me. “I’m relieved. For a brief moment, I thought that you had gone somewhere else.”
I shook my head and then gently shook off Aria’s grasp. “You two worry too much. It’ll take a lot more than a trick like that to keep me away.”
Xinxin nodded, but her gaze seemed unusually concerned.
I frowned and said, “Is something wrong?”
“…No.” Xinxin shook her head and said, “Only-“ She cut herself off and then said, “It’s nothing.”
My frown deepened, but it didn’t seem like I would be getting anything else out of her, so I nodded.
Xinxin shifted her gaze and looked at the surroundings. “In any case, Sifu… Do you have an idea of what happened?”
“I do. But as for the reason…”
It was complicated. From the fact that I saw Saphira and both Aria and Titania, but different, it was clear that time was being distorted to an extent.
As always, my first instinct was to jump to that Goddess’s intervention. But for some reason, this time seemed different. Rather than that person’s presence… there was nothing at all. No, that was wrong. Instead, it seemed that it was a natural reaction to our presence.
I narrowed my eyes and glanced towards Titania. “You said you felt something out of place earlier, Titania. What did you mean?”
“Hm?” Titania blinked at suddenly being addressed and then shook her head. “My apologies. I was just…” She frowned and said, “The light was Yggdrasil. Of that I am certain. However, for the World Tree to act in such a manner is odd.” She looked up and said, “I can understand sending everyone else away, but for her to send myself and Ari as well… It makes no sense.”
So a self-defense mechanism by the World Tree gone wrong? Or so it appeared. However, Titania made a valid point.
The elves were Yggdrasil’s guardians. Furthermore, Titania and Aria were the remaining two members of Alvheim royalty, the ones who should have held the most esteem due to their duty of protecting Yggdrasil’s heart.
But the person they were protecting sent them both away and in the process caused time and space to distort, enough to where even I was affected.
I had already had an ominous feeling about this event, but now I was certain of it.
Something was going to happen here. And that something was going to be centered around us.
I shifted my gaze to Xinxin.
My dear disciple seemed to have picked up on my concern as she frowned as well. “…Should we call this off, Sifu?”
I felt a brief urge to make fun of her for relying on me again, but the gravity of the situation made me decide not to.
“Before that, are the others still here? I would check for myself, but I have an inkling that wouldn’t end well.”
Xinxin frowned and then shifted her gaze. After a few moments, she nodded and said, “The Emperor and his men, as well as the demons and those from our sect are scattered about nearby, but they all seem to be well. At the least, I don’t sense anyone injured or anything odd.”
So then Yggdrasil didn’t harm them. Was it because of a lack of power, or because of something else? It seemed like there were more questions than answers recently.
“Mister Nowun?” Aria’s voice echoed from the side. I turned to see that she was staring at me, her eyes slightly narrowed in concern.
A balance- No. A choice.
Whether due to the Goddess or not, I could tell that something was swiftly approaching. A consequence not set by Destiny or Fate, but the karmic repercussions of my actions.
Continue on in this manner with the meeting or leave and regroup back at the sect.
I clenched my right hand. When I did, a familiar sensation emerged. The form of an ordinary stick that could have been found anywhere. But when I glanced down, it had vanished.
“Sifu?” Xinxin stared at me, waiting expectantly.
“…Let’s finish this meeting and get out of here.”
It was an irrational decision.
I knew that it would be better to abandon everything else. To take Xinxin, Aria, and Titania and then leave. There was just too much that I didn’t know about to risk staying here.
But… At the same time another part of me said that would lead to a situation I would regret. That there was something here I had to face and experience in order to advance.
Before I could hesitate, I looked to Xinxin and said, “Gather everyone again and send us back to Alvheim.”
Xinxin nodded and then held out her hand.
Darkness flickered, space distorted… and then we were once again in front of Yggdrasil’s burned out hollow.
Most of everyone there was disoriented, confused at the sudden change of scenery. The soldiers were wary, the sect members were cautious… But among the others that Xinxin had gathered back, there were three people who weren’t.
One was Erik, Xinxin’s secretary… or rather, the Heavenly King of her sect.
The other was that young girl said to be the Demon Lord’s heir.
And the last…
“I see.”
…Was the Emperor.
Sharp eyes, flitting between Xinxin and myself. With that cutting gaze and a curt nod, Emperor Elio straightened and said, “So you are the one that person was impersonating.”
HappyVainGlory
orz I don't have enough words to apologize for the long delay, but I can at least say what happened. It turns out that, due to the situation with the pandemic, the law school I was accepted to decided to have an accelerated schedule this semester. So that they could avoid a potential surge of cases in the winter months, they front-loaded all of the readings, assignments, and tests to finish up in-person classes before Thanksgiving (November 26th). It had been manageable in the beginning, at least as of the point that I made that author's note. But after that... let's just say the professors decided we got our feet wet enough and threw us into the deep end.
Thankfully, the only things left are finals in all my classes. No major assignments and not much reading... Well, at least a manageable amount now.
It also perfectly lines up with NaNoWriMo!
Anyway, I'll be updating again every day for sure through November. I've been itching to continue the story... though I can't guarantee how it'll turn out since I'll need to get back into the groove. But I guess that's par for the course now, eh?
Thanks so much to you guys for putting up with me... a recurring trend, it seems, and I'll see you tomorrow!
|
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"Corruption",
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"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
"Enemies Become Allies",
"Fantasy World",
"Fated Lovers",
"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
"Interconnected Storylines",
"Multiple POV",
"Multiple Timelines",
"Multiple Transported Individuals",
"Past Plays a Big Role",
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|
"So how are you getting along with making a grandson for me, Son-in-law?"
Nazin bit back his cough and quickly set his tea cup on the table. Wiping his mouth, he stared at Aultry and scowled. This guy...!
"Could you not rush me? It's only been a month. Not only that, but there's a lot more pressing matters at hand, don't you think?"
"As pressing as whether or not I'll be seeing a grandson within the year? I think not."
Nazin sighed and took a sip from his tea.
After the conversation with the girls, he thought it would be a good idea to bring up the topic with Aultry, his unofficial father-in-law.
To that end, they were once again seated at Aultry's private balcony overlooking the Ancient Forest and sharing a cup of tea.
But...
"You know I'm not getting any younger, Son-in-law. And neither is my precious honeybun." The silver-haired king of Alvheim took a sip from his tea and then paused, giving Nazin a strange look. "Or could it be that the mighty 'Demon Lord' can only fire broken arrows?"
"Taunting me won't make it happen sooner, Aultry. And even if it did, wouldn't that be bad to have a child with either of your daughters out of wedlock?"
Aultry sighed. "You humans and your social constructs... Is it not enough that you care for each other enough to join as one?" He paused and narrowed his eyes. "Or could it be that you see my daughters as mere toys?"
Nazin pinched the bridge of his nose, staving off the growing headache.
It was always like this when he talked with Aultry. Why did he expect today to be any different?
"...I jest, Nazin." Aultry smiled and then took a sip from his tea. "I already know how you feel about my daughters."
"Considering that you insist on having lunch with either Aria or Tani every day, I'd be surprised if you didn't."
Aultry nodded. "It's a father's duty to keep up with his children's lives after all." He stared at Nazin and said, "As an aside, I'm quite surprised about you."
"Hm?"
"Well." Aultry leaned back in his chair and said, "In the beginning you avoided the topic of children like the plague. But now you seem quite a bit more open about it." He paused and then said, "Did the wonders of parenthood become more appealing to you now that you've settled in as Yggdrasil's champion? Or could it be that the act itself is too good to pass up so you've accepted the consequences? Aria and Titania's mother was always wonderful at night, so-"
Nazin coughed. "A-Anyway. How are things with the elves over all?"
Aultry raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in topic, clearly amused at the frantic diversion. Still, it seemed that he had enough of toying with Nazin as he nodded and put on a straight and professional face. "So far, it seems that everyone has returned to a semblance of peace. While it is undeniable that there would still be caution regarding a second attack, your presence as both a mighty Demon Lord and Yggdrasil's champion have done a great deal to raise everyone's morale." He smiled. "In fact, some of the more eager saplings have even begun training to be ready to join hands with you should the need arise."
Nazin frowned. "That's a lot of pressure..."
"It's to be expected of both a Demon Lord and Yggdrasil's champion... though I suppose that a solitary powerful being like yourself must be unused to such expectations."
Nazin nodded. "Even so, I have to deal with it."
"Indeed. More tea?"
"Ah." Nazin slid his cup over. "Yes please."
Aultry grabbed the tea kettle nearby and refilled both cups. He slid Nazin's back and then picked up his tea cup for himself. After that, he leaned back and stared at Nazin. "Now, while I enjoy our father-son chats... You aren't one to waste time on trivial matters." He frowned and said, "What's going on?"
Seeing Aultry get serious, Nazin did as well. He took a sip of his tea to wet his throat and then said, "The Ancient Forest will turn into a battlefield again."
"I see." Aultry nodded and said, "I take it that means the Empire has begun to mobilize its troops.
"That's right. From what I could see they're still a month out, but..."
"A month is too soon." Aultry frowned and said, "While everyone has been either healed or revived by Yggdrasil, the damage that the Chaos magic has left behind has yet to fade. The spirits are still restless and weakened. If the Empire returns with more forces than last time..." He sighed and said, "Even with yourself and Lady Saphira to aid us, there will be inevitable casualties."
Nazin frowned. "It's that bad?"
"Yes." Aultry glanced at Nazin and said, "While we elves are skilled in magic, we rely a great deal on the spirits to aid us in combat."
Nazin shook his head. "Don't worry about that. I'm working on countermeasures already."
If it was chaos magic causing the problem, he just had to make a way to reestablish order. And if that didn't work, well he supposed that he could always just make the battlefield even more chaotic by making sure no magic worked and pass out some Anti-magic weapons to the elves.
"Even so..." Aultry shook his head and said, "You are but one person. Even with Lady Saphira, that is only two." He looked at Nazin and said, "Are you confident to say that you will be able to prevent every casualty when we will be facing against an army of the Emperor's best soldiers as well as the summoned Braves?"
Nazin paused.
If it was just the soldiers, he was confident. But then he remembered Serena's warning. Not only that, but he also remembered those Braves that he failed to kill last time.
Conceptual word magic, the Goddess's blessings... Like Aultry said, he and Saphira would probably be fine. But everyone else wouldn't.
Nazin frowned, wracking his mind for a solution.
Did he have to just grant everyone his skills? Even if he trained [Grant Skill] more though, he wasn't sure how much he could stretch it.
Maybe he could find a way to utilize Yggdrasil's powers to do a forest-wide buff?
Aultry hummed and then looked at Nazin. "You know... Why don't you team up with Cross?"
Nazin looked up. "Cross?"
"Do you not know- Ah, but of course you would not. After all, you dared to proclaim yourself as yet another Demon Lord." He paused. "Speaking of that, you never did answer me if you were an ancient being of catastrophe that went into exile in the Lost Woods."
Nazin sighed. "Does that really matter?"
"I suppose it does not." Aultry sipped his tea and then placed the cup on the table. "Cross... Rather, Demon Lord Krozma is the current ruler of the Demon Realm. The 'True' Demon Lord, if we had to split hairs over the matter." He looked at Nazin and said, "Since the Empire has accused us of being traitorous heretics that are working with the demons, why not turn that lie into a reality?"
Nazin paused. "...That would indeed solve the problem of numbers."
He didn't know much about demons other than the little Tani had told him, but from what he gathered they were unlike the elves that were cooped up in the Ancient Forest to protect Yggdrasil. Instead, the demons had created an entire kingdom for themselves down south, proclaiming it the Demon Realm.
In short, they were a comparable force to the Empire. But...
"Would that Krozma guy even want to help us out?"
There was the saying that the enemy of your enemy was your friend. But Nazin was someone who had similar powers and was undoubtedly stronger than the true Demon Lord.
If it was him in Krozma's shoes, Nazin would definitely perceive it as a threat and remain on his guard.
"Of course." Aultry nodded and said, "While Cross likes to put on a harsh demeanor towards his subjects, he has quite the noble and loyal heart. And from the last time we talked, he seemed to be an idealistic young man quite fond of peace." He frowned and said, "Which makes this situation even stranger."
Nazin frowned. "What do you mean?"
Aultry shook his head. "That guy would never start a fight without reason and the humans should have nothing to gain from doing so. Yet... I heard recently that the Ruby Archfiend and the Cobalt Archfiend attempted to attack Ars Nova. It failed, of course. That terrifying Emperor would never allow such an insurrection in his carefully crafted domain. Even so... It is odd."
"Terrifying Emperor, huh?" Nazin thought back to when he met the guy and then said, "He didn't seem that strong when I saw him."
"Then he was concealing his strength." Aultry took a long sip from his cup of tea and then said, "When I met with him a few years ago to officially recognize the Northern Empire, I saw his strength... No, his talent firsthand." He frowned and then looked at Nazin. "To describe it... If you are the boundless night sky, he is a brilliant star that shines even amidst the looming threat of destruction. An exception even to the absolute."
Nazin went quiet and recalled Serena's warning.
He and Saphira would win in sheer stats, but even so they should be cautious?
"Come to think of it," Aultry said. "That Emperor was also the type that would not start a fight without cause. And if he did, he would set out personally to finish it at once rather than play at war like this." He swirled his tea around in his cup, lost in thought.
Hearing that, Nazin frowned. "You mean this isn't his usual course of action?"
"It is not." Aultry looked at Nazin and said, "You would not know this as you recently reemerged from your solitary ventures but the humans... At least those in the north, had a history of endless conflict. Ever since the Brave Kimura settled there and lived so irresponsibly with his harem, countless wars had been fought to determine the proper ruler." He took a sip from his tea and said, "There have been periods of peace in the past, and there have also been countless envoys who sought me out to formally recognize their reign. However, none have lasted more than a year. Until now, that is."
"Until the Emperor?"
"Correct." Aultry nodded and said, "A young child with golden hair emerged from the flames of war and forcibly quelled it on his own. Although his past was unknown, there was no denying his talent and strength. Not only that, but he was a fair and charismatic leader, enough to unify the shattered north. Which makes this current situation even odder." The King of Alvheim frowned and said, "...If I did not know better, I would almost say that he was being pressured to act while being forcibly restrained."
Nazin's frown deepened.
That was a flag if he ever heard one. Did Serena mean that when she warned him about the Emperor?
Aultry said that the Demon Lord wasn't a bad guy and that the Emperor wasn't a xenophobic warmonger. Then... what was with the developments that had occurred since Nazin arrived?
"Well," Aultry said. "There's no use in drawing hypotheticals. In any case, it would be a good idea for you to meet with Cross, Nazin." He paused. "There might be some trouble in crossing over the border as you are, but it should be fine if we send you as my emissary."
"...I have a feeling that still wouldn't go over well."
Aultry paused and then placed a hand on his chin. "That is true. Without context, anyone meeting you would believe that you were either a secret weapon developed by the Empire or a reemerged beast of catastrophe." He tapped his chin and then said, "I suppose that you just have to take my honeybun with you. She is quite infamous in the Demon Realm so there would be no doubt of your identity if she was there to confirm it."
Nazin nodded. "That sound like a plan- Wait." He blinked, suddenly catching the last part of Aultry's words. "Tani is infamous in the Demon Realm?"
Aultry laughed. "She would never admit it, but my honeybun was quite different from her professional self in her youth. On my trip to witness Cross's inauguration, I decided to take my cute honeybun with me." A wide smile filled Aultry's face and he said, "I can still remember the mess she caused. Some uppity demons had the impudence to flirt with my cute honeybun." His smile turned sharp and he said, "I had planned to eliminate them as we departed... but my cute honeybun decided to solve the issue herself."
"...I'm a bit reluctant to ask, but how so?"
"Well, she had recently perfected her sword style and was eager to test it out. Since that was the perfect excuse, she went on a rampage and trounced all of the demon generals and archfiends. It was such a memorable event that I believe Cross even granted her an honorary title... I believe it was the 'Frosty Witch'?"
Nazin blinked, trying to reconcile the cute and shy Titania with the person that Aultry was describing.
He couldn't.
It seemed like time really did a lot to calm a person down, huh?
Aultry frowned. "I am a bit concerned that she might cause some trouble again... but I suppose you managed to melt her icy heart, so it should be fine. In any case." He finished his tea and said, "You should probably head off to prepare for the trip. While it would be a simple matter for you to reach the Demon Realm, we should factor in their travel time as well. Having a drawn out siege waiting for reinforcements, while possible, would not be the best result."
Nazin nodded. "I'll get going right now then."
Aultry smiled. "I will leave the fate of Alvheim in your hands then... both in terms of its protection and ensuring a successor to my throne."
"W-Wait a minute-"
Before Nazin could tell Aultry off, a hole opened up beneath Nazin and sent him sliding down to Alvheim's main hall.
Nazin managed to gather his bearings and prevent an awkward landing with his dark magic, but it didn't excuse that guy's actions. Turning to look up at the hole in the ceiling... Or rather where the hole was, Nazin muttered, "Cheap bastard."
Well, there was no point getting mad at such a childish prank. More importantly...
"Demon Lord Krozma, huh?"
“Nazin?”
Nazin blinked and turned around to see who spoke to him. “Aria?”
The innocent looking blonde waved her hand. “That’s me! How did the talk with my dad go?”
HappyVainGlory
Going back through the story, I decided to go and add volume breaks as well as a new synopsis for each volume. I also changed up a few things in the metadata that I thought were more fitting to hopefully help out future readers. Just a headsup in case you were confused about some changes.
Anyway, thanks for reading! Until next time, which is probably Monday, but might be Tuesday. I'll leave a temporary note Monday if it doesn't happen. Take care!
|
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|
I've got a lot more reading than anticipated this week for class, so I'll be taking a few days break to get ahead of my work. Just a heads up for you guys. I'll hopefully get things squared away by Tuesday, but until then, stay safe and healthy!
|
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|
While I wanted to watch over Xinxin to make sure there weren’t any complications, there was a pressing matter that had to be resolved first.
A conference room in the depths of Alvheim.
Like before, it was a peace conference. But unlike before, there was a group of people that had, and yet had not, met each other.
Emperor Elio, the leader who united the splintered North under his own merits.
Demon Lord Krozma, who ruled over the southern Demon Realm and loved his children above all else.
Heavenly King Erik, recent successor to lead the Heaven-Seizing Dragon Sect in stead of the departed Wang Tian.
Elven King Aultry, the current guardian of Alvheim and first line of defense to those seeking Yggdrasil’s Heart.
And then there was me.
All of us were seated around a circular table, staring at each other.
A tense silence filled the room.
Seeing that no one was saying anything, I spoke up first. “I hope no one here is stupid enough to continue the war.”
Elio shook his head. “I didn’t intend to attack in the first place.”
Krozma scoffed. “That’s rich. Then why did you send people to attack my daughter during the ascension?”
“I never did that.” Elio frowned. “That was all the Goddess’s doing.”
“And you were working with that goddess to summon the Braves to attack, were you not?”
Elio kept a straight face and said, “It was inevitable. I had to go along with it to avoid suspicion. And if we’re talking about provocations, then were you not the one who sent two archfiends into my capital to cause a commotion?”
“You-!”
Aultry cleared his throat. “You two, please calm down. Whatever that you believe the other has done didn’t matter now.” He glanced over at Erik and said, “Heavenly King. What are your thoughts on the matter?”
Erik shook his head. “I defer to the Grandmaster on this matter.” Saying that, he looked to me.
“Is that so?” Aultry looked at me as well and said, “Mm. Then what do you say, young man that shares the appearance of my dear son-in-law?” Although his voice was bland, his eyes were sharp, showing he clearly didn’t approve of me.
But it didn’t matter.
Whether he cared for me or not, it didn’t change the truth. And that was-
“Time has collapsed.”
Aultry froze, rapidly blinking. “P-Pardon?”
Krozma narrowed his eyes and slammed his fist on the table. “You can’t expect me to believe this drivel!”
Elio shook his head. “I wouldn’t be too hasty, Oh Demon Lord. After all, I already killed you once.”
“What?”
Erik sighed. “Elio. Could you kindly not provoke the opposing party in this conference?”
“And would you kindly use my proper title, Heavenly King?”
“When you earn it.”
Elio shook his head.
“In any case.” I interrupted and said, “We need to clear up events. It seems that someone has intervened and forcibly fused multiple timelines together.”
Aultry nodded. “Indeed. ‘Someone’. Perhaps an immortal like yourself, no?”
Krozma frowned. “Immortal… Hm.” He surveyed me and then nodded. “You do seem powerful enough…”
I ignored the barbed reply and turned to Elio. “You’re the one I know, right?”
He nodded. “That is correct, Miss Faith’s teacher. And for the record, I never meant to attack the Demon Lord or invade the Demon Realm. Ah, Alvheim is a different story though. I admit that my actions did indeed lead to its fall.”
“Fall? Alvheim?” Aultry narrowed his eyes and said, “What do you mean, Emperor?”
“Well…” Elio frowned and said, “Seeing as you are still alive and well, King Aultry, it seemed that event never occurred. But in my time, the priests of that damned goddess received a Divine Oracle and instructed me to retrieve the Heart of Yggdrasil, or at the least raze Alvheim to the ground.”
Aultry’s eyes widened. “A Divine Oracle? From the goddess herself? Then… did she truly abandon us?”
Krozma frowned. “Impossible. The Goddess would never forsake her children that easily.”
Elio laughed. “You’d be surprised at how callous that Goddess can be. If it’s to amuse her or advance her ends, she doesn’t care one wit about the losses in the meanwhile.”
Erik nodded. “Indeed. My predecessor spoke as such. The Goddess reigning above is both cruel and cold.”
Krozma froze. “Even that old geezer said so…?”
I held up my hand. “Hold on. I want to make sure we’re talking about the same person here.”
Aultry shook his head. “What is there to talk about? If the Goddess truly abandoned us, then it would explain this distorted time.”
Krozma nodded. “Indeed. If she has decided this to be the end of days as prophesized-“
“And like I said, I want to make sure we’re on the same page.” I glanced over at Elio and said, “I think I know the answer… But that Goddess you mentioned. Is her name Serena?”
Krozma scoffed. “Of course it is Serena. What other-?”
“Serena?” Elio blinked. “No… She called herself Celeste.”
That time the Demon Lord blinked. Rounding on Elio he said, “Celeste? What drivel are you talking about this time?”
Elio frowned. “What are you on? Who is Serena?”
Aultry tilted his head and carefully said, “Serena is the Goddess of this world, Asifant. The one who created the heavens, earth, and cosmos… Judging from your expression, that’s not who you have in mind?”
Elio shook his head. “No. Celeste is the Goddess of Beauty and the ruler of a ruined cosmos. She descended on this world to regain her strength and so granted me the power to unite the Northern Realm… And I take it that none of you have heard of her either.”
The Heavenly King frowned. “I know not her name, but the goddess you speak of, Elio, does sound similar to the one that my predecessor spoke of in the past…”
Krozma scoffed. “Leave it to you humans to create a goddess and besmirch the true goddess’s name.”
Elio stood up. “Do not mock me, Demon Lord. That accursed goddess may not be the one of this world, but her strength and divinity is real.” He clenched his hands and said, “That witch kidnapped my younger sister to serve as her apostle and shackled me with a curse to not act against her. Don’t you dare try to insinuate that it was a mere lie.”
“That is exactly what a human-“
“Quiet.” I glared at Krozma.
He looked back and scoffed, crossing his arms.
I turned back to Elio and said, “What do you mean by your younger sister serving as that goddess’s apostle?”
It was similar. A clue.
Elio sat back down, nodding. “I already mentioned a portion of it to Miss Faith, but my sister and I are descendants of the Brave Kimura and the Divine Dragon Tiamat's daughter, Kisara.” His face filled with regret and he said, “I made a deal with that Goddess to stop the wars in the north. But afterwards, during my coronation, my sister, Stella, vanished. Not only that, but nobody could recall anything about her. It was only later when the priests moved to summon the Braves and that damned goddess descended in the form of my sister did I realize what happened.”
My frown deepened.
Krozma spoke up. “…If that is your situation, Emperor, than I can empathize. However, it does not excuse your actions.”
“And I do not expect to be excused,” Elio said. “But more importantly…” He frowned. “The goddess of this world is Serena? In that case, why did she not intervene when a foreign goddess appeared?”
“That’s… true?“ Aultry muttered and placed a hand on his chin. “Lady Serena descended to congratulate us on Aria’s birth… and yet she did nothing to stop these events.”
Erik crossed his arms. “Could it be that this foreign goddess has usurped this world’s natural goddess’s divinity?”
“Impossible.” Aultry immediately shook his head. “Though a goddess of creation, we have a clear record of her combat prowess. After all, half of the creatures of catastrophe sealed within the Lost Woods were done so when she descended after all other measures had failed.”
“Then…”
The four leaders continued to brainstorm, talking amongst themselves.
While they did that, I contemplated Elio’s revelations and all that I experienced since arriving in this world.
After mulling over everything, a hypothesis came to mind.
At the beginning, I thought Serena was just a bipolar and crazy goddess. But…
“Could it be that they’re merged divinities?”
A silence hung in the room.
Aultry was the first to respond. “That… is quite possible…”
Elio slowly nodded. “It would explain why this Serena did not intervene. Maybe she’s being possessed?”
There were still more questions that needed to be answered… but none of us seemed to have any real leads.
After a while, Aultry sighed and said, “Let us call the meeting there. It would appear that we all have much to consider.”
Krozma nodded. “If there really is a foreign goddess tampering with Lady Serena, then it’s our duty to aid her.”
Erik stood up. “I will depart first. If time has truly sundered as Grandmaster supposed then I will need to confirm the situation back at the Sun Kingdom.”
Elio frowned. “Right. I should make sure that those guys at the capital aren’t doing anything crazy either.”
Krozma glanced at Aultry and said, “Do you have time, Aultry?”
“I do.” He glanced at me and said, “I don’t suppose you need any assistance finding a place for the night, oh great Grandmaster Immortal?”
The sarcasm practically dripped off his tongue.
Even so, I knew why he felt that way, so I shook my head. “I can find my way out.”
He nodded.
Like that, the impromptu meeting between leaders ended.
|
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|
Demon Lord Nazin rapidly paced back and forth in front of the throne room, his regal golden cape and green tunic crumpling as he moved. Running his hand through his black hair, he muttered, “What do I do? What can I do?”
Aultry chuckled. “Are you that worried, Son-in-law?”
“Of course!” Nazin rounded on Aultry and said, “Fighting off against an army of Angels, fine. Fighting off immortal bastards who cheat with divine protection, fine. I’m even okay with diving into that dark cavern in the Demon Realm and taking out the corrupted Demon Lord souls waiting there. But this…” He pulled at his hair and said, “What if something goes wrong? What if they’re hurt? What if the child is hurt?!”
Aultry shook his head. “If you were this worried, perhaps you shouldn’t have timed it so that all three of your wives would give birth at the same time?”
“You say that like I had a choice in the matter!”
Aultry scoffed. “Oh don’t play ignorant with me. I know exactly what sort of kinky and flamboyant positions-“
“That is way too much information. And what kind of perverted old man peeks on his daughters doing it with their husband?!”
“Oh?” Aultry raised an eyebrow. “I was merely stating an example off hand. So you admit to doing depraved acts with my daughters? No, from that phrasing… Did you enjoy two birds in the bush at once?”
Nazin froze and then flushed. “T-That’s not important! What’s more important is if something goes wrong!” He stopped and then swept both hands through his hair before crouching on the floor. “Gaaah! Why aren’t there any records of half-elf and half-dragon births in the library!? This is Alvheim, isn’t it? Shouldn’t there be records of those!?”
“So that is what you were doing these past few weeks… I was wondering why you decided to suddenly become a scholar.”
Nazin jumped to his feet and said, “Why aren’t you worried!? Two of those women are your daughters! And didn’t your wife die giving birth to Aria?!”
“She did.” Aultry nodded. “However, she was also quite old at the time. Truthfully, Aria’s birth was a divine miracle sent by Goddess Serena herself. In contrast, my two daughters are perfectly healthy and in the prime of their lives. Not only that, but they are giving birth to children not only blessed by the current god of this world, but children born within the protection of Yggdrasil herself. And as you are her darling champion, it would be impossible for anything to go wrong.”
Nazin paused. “That’s… right.” He let out a sigh. “Right. I forgot about that…”
“Of course, I cannot say as much for Lady Saphira. After all, she is not quite a divine dragon and not quite a human… it is quite possible that complications could arise.”
Nazin ran up to Aultry and grabbed his shirt. “Tell me shit like that sooner!”
Aultry chuckled.
“What? What’s so funny?!”
Aultry lightly pried off Nazin’s hands and said, “Nothing much. I am just amused at being on the other side of the event this time… I believe I finally understand why my parents were so amused at Titania’s birth.”
Nazin stepped back and crossed his arms. “Yeah, well lucky you! I’m stressed out of my mind here!”
“Do not be.” Aultry shook his head. “Again, it will be fine.”
“They were screaming! Crying out my name and begging me to help them!”
Aultry nodded. “As most women do during childbirth. And I did warn you to not go into the room.”
“That doesn’t make it better or make me feel any less guilty!”
Aultry raised an eyebrow. “…Should I make a call to the Grandmaster and the Heaven Seizer? Perhaps they will be able to ‘calm your nerves’?”
“And have that guy punch me in the face for making them hurt and then laugh at me for stressing out so much?! I’d rather die-“
“Oh. Speak of the devil.”
Nazin flinched and spun around… but saw no one there.
Aultry chuckled.
Nazin turned back to him and crossed his arms. “I hate you.”
The elven king nodded. “Oh, please do. I can empathize with that sentiment very well. And I am certain you will do the same in the future when you have sons.”
Nazin let out a long sigh and then sat down on the floor.
Aultry raised an eyebrow and said, “Should I get some tea?”
Nazin waved his hand. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the offer… but I think I’d piss my pants out of worry if I drank anything right now…”
Aultry nodded. “Understandable.”
Silence. Nothing but the sound of a ticking clock and Aultry quietly sipping on a cup of tea-
Nazin blinked. “Wait. Where did you pull that out from?”
“Hm?” Aultry set his cup down on a saucer on his lap. “Oh, this? The Grandmaster left me quite a few trinkets before departing and restoring time the last time he visited. Among them is a selection of never-ending teas… It seems that he was apologetic about breaking my poor baby girl’s heart.”
Nazin paused and then said, “Right… That bastard did do that.”
Running away with his ‘Faithful Companion’ and then dragging Nazin out and tossing him to clean up the mess of a harem he left behind… Not to mention that other guy who was living it up back on Earth with Serena- No, he supposed it was actually Rena.
Still! Those bastards didn’t have to deal with stress like he did!
Gritting his teeth, Nazin said, “One day. I’m going to-“
“Hey, hey! Mister Weird!” A childish female voice.
Nazin looked up and saw a young girl floating in the air next to me. Short, light green hair and bright emerald eyes. A dark brown dress and a peaceful aura radiating off of her… Iggy, the Spirit of Yggdrasil. Or rather, Yggdrasil herself.
“Iggy?” Nazin stood up and said, “What’s wrong?”
“Silly guy! Nothing’s wrong! In fact, it’s the opposite!”
“Opposite…?”
She flew down and grabbed his arm. “Come on! The babies are adorable!”
“W-Wait, babies? Is it over already?” Nazin’s eyes widened. “Are they safe? In pain? Did it go well?”
Iggy rolled her eyes. “You ask too many questions! Just see for yourself!” With that, she flew through the air, pulling Nazin along with her.
A gap opened where she flew, Yggdrasil itself giving way… although that was obvious considering who was moving through it.
From behind, Aultry said, “Best of wishes, Son-in-law! I’ll stop by for the baby shower later!”
The house at the top of Yggdrasil. The place that Nazin now called home.
Iggy dropped him off at the door way and then pushed him in. “Go on! They’re waiting for you.”
“W-Wait, I’m not ready just yet. Give me a moment to-“
Before he could protest anymore, Iggy shoved him inside. She even removed the door so that he wouldn’t have an excuse to stop.
Awkwardly stumbling inside, he saw an elven woman with long violet hair standing there. She was cleaning her hands with a cloth, but smiled when Nazin walked in.
“Oh, so the father finally arrives after his wives screamed their heads off in pain, does he?”
Nazin flinched. “T-That’s…”
The woman… Maria, the one that Titania and Aria called their aunt, laughed and walked over, slapping Nazin’s shoulder. “I’m just messing with you, Kid. They all did fine. You actually left at the worst part.”
“That… doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Then don’t faint the next time your wives give birth, you idiot.” Slapping his shoulder one more time, Maria said, “This old woman will see her way out now. Make sure to cuddle with your wives and children tonight, alright? Don’t be an idiot like Aultry was and get depressed when he didn’t get a son.”
“…That guy did that?”
“And I’ll never let him live it down. Now, hurry up.” Saying that, Maria pushed Nazin into the bedroom.
When he did, he was faced with three women holding an infant in their arms.
Titania, her honey-colored hair unraveled behind her and matted with sweat smiled, cradling a tiny baby girl with a small tuft of dark-orange hair and round ears.
Aria, her blonde hair as equally unkempt as her sisters, hugged a baby boy with brown hair and slightly pointed ears against her chest, staring at him in a daze.
And then there was Saphira. Unlike the others, she looked as she always did, her hair and clothes tidied up. And also unlike the others, she cradled a pair of infants in her arms, a baby boy and girl, the former with white hair and the latter with black. She also seemed smug for some reason.
Seeing all of that, Nazin walked into the room, a loss for words.
Four of them. Four children. Two daughters and two sons.
And him. A father. Not only that, but his wives were all mothers now too.
A family… One all to his own.
Saphira called out first. “What is it, Master? Are you disappointed?” Saying that, she subtly glanced at the elven princesses and smirked.
Aria rolled her eyes. “As if. He’s probably stunned at seeing that an old hag like you didn’t drop dead from childbirth.”
Saphira narrowed her eyes.
Titania shook her head. “Could we please not be like this today? Think of the children.”
“Ah.” Aria shut her mouth and nodded. “Right…”
Saphira shifted her gaze as well. “…My apologies.”
Titania looked over at Nazin and smiled. “Welcome back, Dear. Now… come say hello to your children.”
|
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"Corruption",
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"Elves",
"Enemies Become Allies",
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"Fated Lovers",
"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
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"Multiple POV",
"Multiple Timelines",
"Multiple Transported Individuals",
"Past Plays a Big Role",
"Personality Changes",
"Skill Assimilation",
"Time Manipulation",
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|
When Xinxin regained her senses, she realized that she was lost. After seeing Sifu and that woman so close together... She thought she would be able to handle it, but it seemed like the impact was more than she expected. And because of that, she had run off without thinking of where to go.
A breeze blew past, bringing with it the soft clattering of bamboo. Nearby, the faint bubbling of running water echoed, accompanied by a thin mist.
Xinxin blinked, looking at her surroundings, and then a wry smile crossed her face.
It was the same place where she had first met her Sifu. Although a bit different because it was a replica that Wang Tian made, there was no mistaking it.
Xinxin shook her head, trying to calm her frantic heart.
Was it because of her emotions, or 'her' emotions?
Either way, Xinxin's heart felt like it was ripping in half.
Her Sifu's face flashed in her mind. The quiet resolve, the determined gaze, as if to face the entire world to protect the one he loved...
It was an expression that Xinxin had always desired.
So, seeing Sifu look like that to another woman...
Xinxin clenched her chest, crumpling up the soft silk dress she wore.
Ba-dump.
Xinxin sighed and walked over to lean against a bamboo tree. "...I'm being stupid."
She had already known.
Aria and Sifu were tied together by karma. Black and red threads entwined as one, drawing them together whether they wished it or not. Even after that goddess's golden thread had been severed, those bonds remained.
And that bond was stronger than the one that Xinxin had with her Sifu.
Xinxin sighed and sat down, pulling her knees up to her chest.
Her Sifu... No. Nowun had always been confident. Serious and striving towards his ambitions. And if he intended to cherish that elf, then Xinxin should support him.
It was fine to just be at his side. She was happy as long as he was alive and safe. But most of all... Xinxin didn't want to burden him.
Since Xinxin met Nowun, he had always been pulled along by someone else, tied down by some obligation that he didn't choose. 'Chains' that were imposed on him rather than ropes he cast out on his own.
Xinxin didn't want to be another shackle on him.
It was why she didn't mention her 'past' as his Faithful Companion. It was why she didn't mention what happened after she brought him back.
All that Xinxin wanted was for her Sifu to fulfill his dreams and ambitions... even if that meant that she would just remain as his disciple and nothing else.
Right.
That... was all that Xinxin wanted. Nothing more.
"How ironic, Xinxin. Was pining for one lifetime not enough?"
Xinxin's quickly stood up, searching the surroundings.
A familiar laugh echoed and then a man stepped out from within the bamboo forest.
Xinxin's eyes widened.
A heroic young man in a faded azure robe. A plain sword was strapped at his right side and his long hair had turned a pure white.
Even so, Xinxin would never be able to forget that appearance. "Wang... Tian?"
The man smiled and then walked over.
Xinxin subconsciously took a few steps back, crashing into the bamboo.
The man... Wang Tian stopped when he saw that and then sighed. "You... Don't you think you're letting the past weigh on you too much?"
Xinxin frowned. "What do you mean? No." She shook her head and said, "How are you alive?"
It didn't make sense.
Xinxin had seen him die. She had watched as his existence unraveled and vanished into the void. Even if time had been disturbed, there was no way for him to be standing there before her.
Wang Tian let out a faint smile and said, "Though you've gotten harsher, it seems that you're still the same kind girl in the end. But you know, giving out your heart like that is only going to leave it shattered in the end."
Xinxin scoffed and crossed her arms. "As if you would know."
"But I do," Wang Tian said. "After all, I was the one who had your heart first. Well... maybe not. 'You' never belonged to me. Not like 'she' did."
"...I'm leaving." Xinxin spun around and started walking away. "I don't know whether this is a delusion, reality, or whatever, but I won't stand here and be mocked by you."
Wang Tian followed after her.
Xinxin stubbornly kept walking.
After a while, Wang Tian said, "You're worried that you'll be a burden to him, aren't you?"
Xinxin's heart throbbed, but she resolutely kept silent and kept walking.
"That man, your Sifu, is walking a path that defies everything. While strong, you're afraid that you'll become his weakness. A liability."
"Be silent."
"That's especially true now that the other girl is there. Xinxin... You're worried that you'll get thrown away. No, that you'll get replaced. Isn't that right, Faithful Companion?"
Xinxin's eyes widened and she spun around. In an instant, her sword was drawn and pointed at Wang Tian- No, at the person borrowing Wang Tian's form. "Who are you?"
"Whoops!" The imposter giggled and said, "Looks like I slipped up."
Xinxin narrowed her eyes.
The imposter's form rippled and then a beautiful young woman stood in Wang Tian's place. A familiar one at that, with pristine jade skin, silky black hair, and eyes like starry amethysts. Borrowing Xinxin's appearance now, the imposter let out a playful smile and said, "You should know who I am, right?"
"...You're that Goddess."
"Hey!" The Goddess pouted and said, "I have a name, you know?"
Xinxin responded by stepping forward and slashing at the Goddess's neck.
Callous laughter echoed in the forest, and then the Goddess reappeared behind Xinxin. This time, however, her appearance was someone else. A cold beauty with snowy white hair and sapphire eyes.
Xinxin sent a surge of dark spike towards the Goddess.
Once again, she vanished. When she reappeared, she was in the form of a young blonde elf woman wearing a white dress. Emerald eyes looked down at Xinxin, a haughty expression completely at odd with Aria's usual personality. "Half-hearted attacks like that won't hurt me, you know?"
"Then I'll just try harder!" Xinxin glared at the Goddess and then focused. Drawing out the strength in her dantian, drawing in the ambient energy in the surroundings and compressing them to the limit... At the same time, she changed her weapon with the sword Wang Tian left her and then stepped forward, slashing at the Goddess's neck.
A delicate white hand blocked it, pressing its palm against the edge of Xinxin's blade. As a result, a thin red line formed, letting out a trace of blood. But that was all.
Xinxin scowled and pressed harder, trying to cut through. But nothing happened.
The Goddess tilted her head. "How surprising. For you to be able to damage me like this as well as for that guy to fragment 'myself' like that... It's interesting. No, 'fun'." Having said that, the Goddess swept her hand and sent Xinxin back.
Xinxin quickly landed on the ground and cautiously surveyed the Goddess.
She was still in Aria's form, but the manic and callous gaze in those emerald eyes was clearly that of someone else.
Xinxin wondered for a brief moment if her Sifu had made a mistake and the Goddess had taken over Aria... but it couldn't be the case. After all, he would have realized it first. Then how-
"You don't need to be so cautious." The Goddess smiled and leaned against a bamboo tree. "I'm just here to talk. A bit of a tête-à-tête between women."
"I have nothing to say to a woman like you."
"Ah." The Goddess nodded. "That's understandable. I did send people to wipe out your clan and steal your mother's soul to make an angel, after all."
Xinxin felt a surge of rage at those words but quickly calmed herself.
The Goddess laughed. "That's good. Being able to hold back and keep a calm mind is a good sign. Seems like Nowun is a better teacher than I anticipated."
Darkness flared around Xinxin and she said, "Don't say his name."
The Goddess crossed her arms. "It's not like it's his real name. What difference does it make?"
Xinxin glared at the Goddess.
"Fine, fine." The Goddess held up her hands in surrender. "I'll stop playing around." After that, she sat down. The moment she did, a pure white chair appeared beneath her.
Seeing that, Xinxin frowned.
That Goddess was awfully talkative today... and non-violent as well.
Something was off, but Xinxin didn't know what.
Before she could figure it out, the Goddess spoke. "I'm surprised that I can't find that guy anywhere." The Goddess glanced at Xinxin and said, "To not be seen with my sight... either he's gotten a lot better at hiding or you're pretty strong."
"You shouldn't underestimate humans, Goddess."
The Goddess laughed.
Xinxin blinked and then said, "What's so funny?"
The Goddess shifted her legs, crossing her right over her left, and said, "Underestimating humans is the last thing I want to do. After all, the last time I did that..." She trailed off and shook her head.
Xinxin straightened. "Enough rambling. Why are you here and what do you want?" Even while she said that, Xinxin carefully observed the Goddess, waiting for an opening.
The Goddess nodded. "Alright. In that case... I'll cut to the chase." She smiled and said, "Why don't you make a deal with me?"
HappyVainGlory
Busier than anticipated with school :sweat: Hope that the chapter was enjoyable and thanks as always for reading!
|
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"Corruption",
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"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
"Enemies Become Allies",
"Fantasy World",
"Fated Lovers",
"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
"Interconnected Storylines",
"Multiple POV",
"Multiple Timelines",
"Multiple Transported Individuals",
"Past Plays a Big Role",
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"Time Manipulation",
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|
Faced with that question, there was only one response Xinxin could make.
"I refu-"
"Don't be too hasty." The Goddess smiled and said, "It'll be strictly to your benefit. You're worried about your Sifu abandoning you, right? If you agree, I can make it so that he never leaves you- No, so that he only looks at you."
Xinxin's heart throbbed. Sifu... looking only at her?
The Goddess laced her hands together and placed them on her lap. "I see I have your attention now."
Xinxin shook her head.
"Come now. There's no need to lie to yourself." The Goddess smiled and said, "I can empathize. Giving everything to a person and then being left behind... While it's noble that you're willing to go through that again, is that what you truly desire?"
"I don't... Something like that..."
"At the rate things are going... it's going to happen, you know?" The Goddess's smile faded and she said, "While that person erased my blessings and changed his powers, he's still the same person at his core. Just like Wang Tian, that person is going to set off on his own path and walk it to the end, regardless of who he leaves behind. And in the end, you'll suffer the same fate."
*Ba-dump*
"It's 'karma'. Not any destiny I created, but the natural consequences of your actions as well as his own. But that's a bit sad, isn't it? In that case... why don't you change it?"
"I..."
"It would be simple. A peaceful life with you as the ruler of the Sun Kingdom with your beloved Sifu beside you. A lovely family with a beautiful daughter and a polite and filial son. Joyful and happy days. Don't you deserve something like that after all you've given up?"
Xinxin could see it.
A cute young girl that looked a bit like herself, reaching up with tiny hands. A young boy that looked a bit like Sifu, tugging at her shirt and asking to play.
"Th-That..."
"Nice, isn't it?" The Goddess stood up.
Xinxin flinched and took a step back.
"It's not bad to want to be happy. So... let's make a deal." The Goddess held out her hand.
Xinxin stared at it, her heart wavering. "I... I won't agree. But... But let's say that I did. What... would I have to do?"
The Goddess's smile widened. "It's simple. All you have to do is let your Sifu and that elf girl go to Alvheim by themselves. You're going to be busy with the peace conference anyway, aren't you? So just stay busy and ignore whatever happens there. When you do- Hm?" The Goddess looked to the side and then shook her head. "Ah. Looks like our time's up."
"W-Wait!"
The Goddess waved at Xinxin and gave her a teasing smile. "You don't need to answer me. Just do as I said and I'll fill my end of the bargain. Til then... take care!"
Xinxin reached out, but when she did, the Goddess had vanished.
"Heaven Seizer?" A male voice called out.
Xinxin flinched and quickly lowered her hand.
The bamboo rustled and then a young man with spiky black hair appeared. Erik. His fancy white robe was scuffed up and he looked worried. But when he saw Xinxin standing there alone, he let out a sigh of relief. "Thank the heavens." He walked towards her and said, "I sensed you entering the forbidden area in a rush and I was worried that something happened."
Xinxin hid her trembling heart and shook her head. "Nothing happened."
Erik stared at Xinxin, frowning.
Xinxin stared back.
After a while, Erik slowly nodded. "...As you say, Elder Sister. However, if you ever wish to talk, know that I will never judge you for whatever you say." Erik brushed off his robes and said, "Regardless of how you may think about myself and the others, we all treated the Heavenly King as our grandfather. Since he cherished you so much, I hope that the day comes when we may become close as well."
Hearing those words calmed Xinxin's heart a bit. Still, she couldn't let him off for slipping up in calling her Heaven Seizer, so she decided to tease him a bit. "Is this how you hooked those two beautiful girls, Erik?"
Erik scoffed. "If anything, I'm the one ensnared in their web."
Xinxin smiled.
The Goddess's words and her deal...
Xinxin would be lying if her heart wasn't shaken from the offer. But seeing Erik's concern and frantic appearance was enough to bring her back to her senses.
"Well," Erik said. "Whatever the case, I hope that Elder Sister won't do anything too reckless in the near future. I may be the Heavenly King, but it is you who we serve. If something were to happen, I would never be able to face grandfather."
"...Thank you."
Erik smiled back.
Xinxin coughed and then said, "How are things going in terms of the peace conference?"
Erik sighed. "It is a bit troubling to determine which disciples to bring along. As this is a formal meeting of powers, it is imperative that our forces are both indicative of our strength and representative of our entire kingdom. Of course, this means visits to the minor sects and clans, passing messages..." Erik shook his head and said, "There is a lot that must be done in the next few weeks."
Xinxin nodded. "It's good that you're prepared. Nobody would ever believe that you're the sniveling person I met when I first arrived."
Erik gave a bitter smile and said, "Time does not wait for anyone, Elder Sister."
Those words gave Xinxin pause.
Time... That was right.
Even though Xinxin and her Sifu were not necessarily bound by time's forward march, that wasn't to say that it waited for them. And even if it did, emotions, thoughts, and memories could shift with time.
Don't you deserve something like that after all you've given up?
The Goddess's words came back to Xinxin's mind. With them came the gnawing thought.
What if... Sifu changed his mind? What if there came a time where, even if she stood beside him, Sifu saw her as a nuisance? In that case, if something like that were to happen...
Xinxin's heart throbbed.
"Elder Sister?" Erik stared at Xinxin, concern in his eyes.
Seeing that, Xinxin said, "Perhaps there is something you can help me with after all."
Erik lit up, smiling, and then he nodded. "Ask away, Elder Sister!"
Xinxin bit her lip for a moment and then said, "If... If you were given the option to throw everything away and just live with those girls, Mary and Sarah. If you didn't have to worry about your responsibilities anymore... If everything would remain peaceful like that... would you accept it?"
Erik's smile faded and he frowned, seriously considering the question. After a bit, he looked at Xinxin and said, "Before I answer... I have a question."
"Yes?"
"Would everything else remain the same?"
Xinxin paused, considering the question. After a moment, she shook her head and said, "Everything would change. Your responsibilities would vanish and nobody would know the truth except for you."
Erik was quiet for a moment and then he said, "I have to admit, Elder Sister. Such a life is definitely desirable-"
"Isn't it?"
"...However, would that not just be an illusion?"
Xinxin froze and then she shook her head. "But it would be real. A true reality where everyone would be happy."
"Even if that were the case... I could not accept it." Erik looked up at Xinxin and said, "While I would be happy and free, someone else would take my place. And that person would not be as qualified as I. Though I pray every day that I could simply enjoy a peaceful life and raise a family with the two that I love, for the sake of our sect... for your sake, I will take on that burden."
Xinxin flinched at Erik's sincere words. "B-But... don't you deserve better? After all you've done, don't you want to set it aside and just be happy?"
Erik stared into Xinxin's eyes.
Facing that gaze, Xinxin almost felt like she was looking at Wang Tian's enigmatic gaze back in the Xia Dynasty.
"Grandfather told me this when I was younger." Erik shifted his gaze and stared at the sky. "Life is a path that can only be walked once. Even if time turns back, the regrets that one creates and the pain they inflict upon to others will never be erased. After all, what you have done will forever remain in the depths of your heart."
Xinxin's heart throbbed. "That..."
It was true.
While the world might never realize it, Xinxin would remember. The happiness she felt would always be marred with guilt.
Erik lowered his head and said, "Grandfather had many regrets. Even so, he always looked forward. To me... To all of us, he said that we should always walk a path that we could be proud of. And... even if we could not be proud of it, even if our paths were riddled with mistakes and regrets, he said to continue anyway. Because if we didn't... if we pretended that such things never happened, we would be ignoring the sacrifices and lives we trampled upon the way. And if that happened... wouldn't it be worse than the most vile devil?"
Xinxin was quiet.
What Erik said... was definitely something that Wang Tian would have known all about.
Pretending that such things never happened would be ignoring the sacrifices and lives trampled along the way. Doing so would make them the worst type of devil...
Wang Tian could have done that. Along his path to defy heaven, he could have severed his heart and emotions towards Xinxin and forget all about her. But instead, he chose not to.
Although he had inflicted countless wrongs. Although he knew he could never ask forgiveness. Although everything he did would never repay the lifetime of sacrifice, he chose to live on and do his best.
He could have pretended nothing had happened. He could have used his knowledge of the future for his own gain and try to correct his mistakes. He could have lived a happy life together with the one he had forsaken and none would be the wiser.
But he didn't.
The proof of that was everywhere Xinxin could see.
Never knowing if he could see her again, he created an organization that would continue to help her even after his death. Even though it must have been painful to endure so long, even though he knew full well that he would have been more likely to be cursed at than praised, he did it.
That sort of resolve... Of staying true to one's emotions even if there was no chance of repayment...
"...What an idiot."
Was she talking about herself, or the guy who waited millennia for the chance that she might arrive?
Xinxin didn't know.
Erik smiled and said, "Does that help, Elder Sister?"
Xinxin smiled back. "It does." She bowed her head and said, "Thank you-"
A sudden gust of wind, coupled by the sound of breaking bamboo. With it came a young man with an average face and a flowing black robe. His black hair swayed like wisps of darkness while his eyes, once a dark brown, glimmered a deep crimson as they scanned the surroundings.
Xinxin immediately straightened, her eyes widening. "S-Sifu?"
Nowun's gaze settled on Xinxin. But then he noticed Erik standing close by and glared at the Heavenly King.
Erik flinched and quickly bowed his head. "G-Greetings, Grand Sifu."
"...Tch." Nowun ignored the guy and then walked over to Xinxin.
Seeing him approach like that reminded Xinxin of the past and she instinctively shirked away. But before she could get anywhere, a firm hand grasped her left arm.
"Stupid girl."
Hearing that brought Xinxin to her senses. She frowned and shook her arm, trying to pull it free. "Stop that, Sifu! I'm not-"
"Xinxin."
"S-Sifu?" Xinxin's eyes widened.
Nowun stared at her and then pulled his hand back. Of course, since he didn't let go, Xinxin came with it.
Shocked, Xinxin didn't react. And because she didn't react, before she knew it, a pair of firm arms had pulled her close.
"No matter how strong you've gotten, it's still dangerous to run off by yourself. I would be... It would be troublesome if you disappeared somewhere I couldn't reach you, so stay in my sight, okay?"
They were clumsy words. Considering everything that Xinxin felt when she saw him with Aria, it was also far from an adequate apology. Even so...
"And more than that... You're the only person I can trust in this world without hesitation. So believe me when I say that I don't want to lose you. Alright?"
Xinxin looked up.
Nowun's face was uncharacteristically soft. No, instead of soft... it was as if he had turned back time to the very beginning. The awkward and clumsy young man who was foolish enough to face off against a dragon with just an ordinary stick. The rough but caring man who commanded her to live and fight against her fate instead of falling victim to it.
Without her realizing it, Xinxin's vision began to blur, tears welling up in her sparkling eyes.
"What? Crying already?" Nowun gave her a slight smile and said, "I thought you wanted me to stop treating you like a little girl?"
Xinxin stared at him with a sloppy smile and said, "Stupid Sifu. It's your fault for being so out of character." She sniffed and raised her hand to wipe away her tears.
Before she could, Nowun had already reached over, lightly brushing her cheeks. "Tears like that only make someone as beautiful as yourself ugly you know?"
Xinxin laughed and then buried her head in Nowun's chest. "You're the one to blame, Sifu. And this isn't fair."
A gentle hand on her back, a slight warmth holding her tight. Then, an uncharacteristically warm voice. "I know. But you don't have to worry. I'm not going anywhere any time soon... At least, not without you."
Xinxin nodded, her Sifu's words calming her troubled heart. Even so...
It's not bad to want to be happy.
A small portion of the Goddess's words echoed in her mind.
Her normally cold Sifu's warm affection. His clumsy but determined words and emotions...
If she could stay like this forever and make him look only at her, then...
Even if it was like an illusion. Even if it meant living a lie forever.
...Would that be so bad?
HappyVainGlory
Phew. Trying to fit in writing time is tough. Forgot just how much of the day school took from you. Managing though, but I wish that I could write more. T_T
I finally got the ending sorted out on paper and upcoming events mapped out now. From the looks of things, we might reach it before this story turns a year old. Now comes the hard part of hoping everything makes sense though... Kind of wish I took better notes when starting the story.
orz
Anyway, thanks for reading, as always! I'm not too sure if everything will unfold as perfectly as I want it to in my head from this point on, but I hope it's an enjoyable read nonetheless.
To people from the beginning who's been reading this far, a warm thanks for sticking along with my unreliable self.
To people who started the story recently, a warm thanks for giving it a chance even though it's not quite a conventional story like some of the others here.
|
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|
I frowned. “An older brother? Obviously not.” As much as my original memories had been blurred by the aftereffects of my powers, that much I was certain of.
Titania stared for a moment and then nodded, taking a sip from her tea. “Of course that was the case.”
I served myself some noodles and then said, “What brought on that line of questioning?”
Titania shook her head and said, “It is nothing serious. Just… for some reason, you feel familiar to me. It… It is almost like we met before, some time in the past.”
I paused and then said, “And I’m assuming you mean before all of this happened?”
Titania nodded. She stared at me for a moment longer and then shook her head. “Perhaps I am just imagining it. With everything that has occurred, I might simply be seeing what I want to see.”
I didn’t immediately respond. Instead, I considered her words.
Titania thought I felt familiar… but in the way like she felt she had seen me before all of this had happened.
The obvious answer would be that my frequent trips through time had caused a sort of déjà vu between people I’d met before. I’d seen that in Aria and Saphira, at least. Granted, that was with the Goddess’s involvement.
It was possible that she was referring to that.
However… I had a feeling there was something else at play too.
With Aria’s soul being the way it was, it was clear ‘something’ had happened in Alvheim’s past.
Could it be that I traveled to Alvheim in the far past? Or that I would in the future?
At the moment, that was impossible. But with my current understanding of my powers, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities.
But what would lead me back to Alvheim in the first place…?
“I’m sorry.” Titania shook her head and said, “I didn’t mean to disturb you so much.”
“No. It’s fine.” I shook my head as well and said, “That was a fair question to ask. For your information, however, I am an only child. In fact, I am the only member of my family left alive in this world.”
A partial truth. After all, whatever family remained would forever be on Earth.
“Ah.” Titania paused and said, “I had forgotten that you were an immortal. Of course your family…”
I waved my hand and said, “It’s fine. I got over that fact a long time ago.” Mainly when I died.
Titania nodded and then was silent again, pensievely drinking her tea.
I did the same and then considered how to bring up the subject of Aria.
It hadn’t been long since we left and Aria would inevitably be asleep for quite a while due to the aftereffects of being revived, but there was no avoiding the question forever.
…And that also meant that I would eventually have to talk to her and face whatever words she had to give me.
That… would be something.
I frowned, realizing that I was dreading that more than I thought I would be.
Titania coughed and then said, “Would you mind me asking some more questions?”
I shrugged and said, “Considering the last few, should I be prepared?”
“Ha ha.”
I grabbed a dumpling before waving it at her and said, “Go ahead.”
“Well then…” Titania stirred her tea a bit and said, “Master Xinxin is clearly an ancient immortal from distant time. Even so, she addresses you as her Sifu.” She paused and then said, “Are you the same?”
I gave a bitter laugh at that and said, “No. I’m nothing that special.”
Xinxin’s abilities… while it was true that I had given her a good headstart, the fact that she managed to reach that level of power by herself was a measure of her determination and willpower. Perhaps a bit of obsession as well. As for myself…
I shook my head and said, “I’m just a ghost without a name. A ‘no one’ that managed to make my way into this world.”
Titania frowned and muttered, “A ghost?”
“It’s a long story.” I finished the dumpling I grabbed earlier and then said, “Suffice to say, I made a deal with a certain person and got in over my head. As a result, I don’t have any memories of my past… or even any of who I really am.”
Titania stared at me for a while and said, “I see. So that explains why you seem so psychotic.”
“Hey. I’m not that bad.”
Titania raised an eyebrow and said, “Is that so? Well, believe what you wish to believe.”
I scoffed and then poured myself some more tea.
Another tense silence.
After sipping some tea, I glanced at Titania and said, “What about yourself?”
“Hm?”
I leaned back and said, “I’ve told you a lot about me, so it’s only fair you tell me about yourself, isn’t it?” I paused, going over what I knew about Titania, and said, “I know a bit about you from Aria and my dear disciple, but other than that, not too much.”
Titania nodded. “That is true… Our last few meetings were not very constructive towards getting to know each other.”
“Right. So… tell me a bit about you.”
“What is it you wish to know?”
“Mm…” I thought for a bit and said, “First of all, where did you learn how to use a sword? That swordsmanship clearly isn’t something you casually pick up.”
Her status screen had mentioned that Titania pioneered that particular style of sword fighting.
It made me curious. After all, a genuine genius was a useful person to learn from.
“My swordstyle? Titania blinked and then shook her head. “It’s nothing much.” She stared off in the distance, lost in thought, and then said, “When I was a young girl, I happened upon a spirit melding with the elements. Curious, I tried imitating it.”
A spirit melding with the elements, huh? That didn’t seem suspicious at all…
Titania sighed. “Unfortunately, the only success I had was with my sword. Still, it was enough for me, so I began treading upon the path of swordsmanship.” She shrugged. “There is not much more to say.”
I hummed and then said, “That makes sense. It also explains why you’re single after so long, being married to your sword like that.”
Titania crossed her arms and glared at me. “Better that than a cruel man who takes advantage of young girls before throwing them away.”
I bristled and said, “I do not do that.”
Titania raised an eyebrow. “Your actions say otherwise. Not only did you fail to protect my sister, but you survived the attack and disappeared, only to become Master Xinxin’s Sifu.” She paused and then said, “No. You were Master Xinxin’s Sifu to begin with, but you threw her away for my sister and that other woman.” She leaned back and stared at me from the corner of her eye, filled with contempt. “If that isn’t a cruel man, what is?”
I stood up. “You don’t understand a single thing about-!“
“Tani?”
I froze.
It was a soft and innocent voice. Calm, like a gentle breeze.
I ignored Titania for the moment and turned around.
Aria walked over, rubbing her eyes. Her golden hair swayed behind her, and a few messy strands clung to her black dress. Altogether, it was the picture of a sleepy young girl that just got up after a pleasant nap.
Plenty of thoughts and words went through my mind at seeing Aria awake. However, another pressing concern pushed all of that away.
Aria covered a yawn with her delicate hands and then glanced between me and Titania. “Why are you here? And with Mister Nowun?”
I carefully turned around, glancing at Titania.
The eldest elf princess had knocked over her tea, spilling it across the table and her food. Her eyes were wide in shock, those dark jaded orbs trembling in their sockets. No, her entire body was trembling.
I carefully moved in front of Aria just in case. Since I wasn’t too familiar with Titania, I didn’t want to risk that trembling coming from anger and rage rather. But it seemed that I didn’t need to worry.
Tears welled up in Titania’s eyes. She blinked them away, shaking her head, and then slowly stood up. “A-Ari?” She spoke in a trembling voice, the tone of a person clinging onto a last string of hope. “Is that… really you?”
Seeing that, I glanced back at Aria’s reaction.
Aria blinked, confused. “Why wouldn’t it be me?”
I then turned back to Titania. “It’s a long story. Before you get any misunderstandings…“ I trailed off when I noticed what state Titania was in.
Tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes turning red from those tears. Her lips, opening and closing, as if to speak words that wouldn’t come out. And then her hand, reaching out towards Aria but drawing back at the last moment.
I sighed and decided to give Titania a while to calm down before saying anything else.
|
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|
A tense and awkward atmosphere.
Sitting at a chair at the table between Titania and Nowun, Aria found herself glancing at both of the ones she held dear to her heart.
Titania was a wreck.
Aria could honestly say that she had never seen her older sister look so devastated in her entire life.
Titania’s gentle honey-colored hair was frazzled and frayed, her pretty green eyes that matched Aria’s own were red from sobbing, and her beautiful cheeks were stained from tears.
Aria wanted to comfort her sister, but she didn’t know where to start. Because of that, she glanced at the other person nearby.
Nowun. The enigmatic young man with plain looks and black hair. While Titania was in an emotional wreck, Nowun seemed calm and collected. His face was blank and inscrutable as always.
Even so, Aria felt that something was off about him. Although her memories were jumbled up and pieces were missing, she could still clearly remember the weak young man that sacrificed himself to save her.
It had been a calm and resolved action. Faced with certain death, Nowun simply stared at her and bought her time to escape. Even when he was cut down, he had been implacable.
Yet… Why did it seem to Aria that he was unsettled at the moment?
Nowun caught Aria’s gaze and then twitched. It seemed like he wanted to look away, but instead of doing so he forced himself to maintain eye contact.
Aria shook her head and then looked down at the food and drink that had been placed down for her.
A cup of green tea and some fluffy white pastries.
Aria wasn’t familiar with the food, but the savory smell was enticing enough to get over the initial uncertainty. That and the fact that she had to do something about the unbearable atmosphere led her to take a bite.
Slightly sweet dough, savory meat. And then a faintly bitter tea to wash it down.
Aria took her time to eat, hoping that the others would speak up. But even after she finished her food, the tense and awkward air still remained.
Titania had managed to gather herself a bit, sipping on a cup of tea. Even so, it seemed that she hadn’t completely calmed down since she didn’t realize that she was sipping from an empty tea cup.
Aria frowned and glanced at Nowun.
The black-haired young man was eating, munching on that white pastry, and staring off into the distance. He seemed lost in thought, but every now and then his eyes kept glancing over to Aria.
Irritated, Aria frowned and said, “What is wrong with you two?”
Titania flinched and dropped her tea cup against the table. Thankfully, the fact that it was empty meant that there wasn’t a mess. Even so, the eldest elf princess flushed and averted her gaze.
Aria’s frown deepened and she said, “Aren’t you happy to see me, Tani?”
“I… That is…” Titania mumbled and then shook her head.
Exasperated, Aria looked at Nowun. “What about you, Mister Nowun?”
Nowun finished his pastry and then washed it down with a cup of tea. After that, he looked at Aria and said, “I am. It is just…” He trailed off like Titania and then simply stared.
“Honestly.” Aria sighed and said, “It’s a beautiful morning and the weather is delightful. Would it harm you two to smile a bit?”
Titania let out a bitter smile and said, “You are as optimistic as ever, I see. Just the same as always.”
Aria frowned. “And you’ve changed, Tani.”
Titania flinched and then let out a deep sigh.
Aria could understand it, but she couldn’t accept it.
Her older sister had always been firm, prim, and proper. A bit cold at times and awkwardly stiff at others, but always caring and kind.
The one sitting before Aria… she could still see the traces of that kind and awkward older sister. But they were just that: traces. And as she wondered why her dear older sister had changed, bits of memories and knowledge floated to the surface.
Titania’s venomous hatred and accusations. Her determined resolve to face off against an inevitable cruel end just to stall for time. And then…
Aria jerked and clutched a hand to her throbbing skull.
Nowun immediately stood up. “Aria-“
“I’m fine.” Aria lowered her hand and then said, “I think I’m just a bit groggy still. That’s all.” As she finished, she glanced to her older sister.
Like Nowun, Titania had immediately jumped to her feet. Her hands were already reached out towards Aria, but the moment she saw Aria looking, Titania froze and forcibly folded them against her chest.
Seeing that, Aria let out soft sigh. “Do you really hate me that much, Tani?”
“No!” Titania gave an immediate response and shook her head. “I-“
“It’s fine.” Aria gave her a faint smile and said, “I can understand why you would.”
It was a secondhand account. The memories from other timelines played out like a story rather than experiences.
Even so, it was enough for Aria to know the reason for her sister’s actions.
How painful was it? Although Titania had succeeded in protecting her younger sister, she had lost everything else. And then, meeting again after being soiled while her younger sister remained the same…
Aria could only imagine it. But that imagination was enough for her to accept her older sister’s emotions.
Titania lowered her gaze, muttering. “That’s not fair, Ari.”
“But it is!” Aria stood up and placed her hands over her heart. “I ran away and left you all behind. I knew what would happen to you all and still kept running!“
Titania shook her head. “You didn’t have a choice. We didn’t give you a choice-“
“But I did have one! I could have stayed and fought!”
At the time, Aria had been afraid. Knowing the fate in store for her, she had just run away without looking back. Accepting the sacrifices without questioning, she had deserted everything and everyone to save herself.
“You have every right to hate me!”
Titania pursed her lips and kept her arms crossed.
Seeing that Aria wasn’t getting through, she turned to Nowun and said, “Help me here, Mister Nowun! Tell Tani that I’m right!”
Nowun blinked and said, “You… want me to tell your sister that it’s alright for her to hate you?”
Aria nodded. “It is, isn’t it? I mean, it’s only fair, right?”
“Fair, huh?” A complicated expression crossed Nowun’s face before he shook his head. “I… don’t think I have a right to speak here.”
“Why not?” Aria turned towards him and said, “If you hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have been saved and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“That’s… true,” Nowun said. “But I think you’re getting a bit sidetracked here.”
“Sidetracked?” Aria frowned. “I-“
“Enough.” Titania’s cold voice cut through the air.
Hearing that, Aria paused and turned back to look at her older sister.
Titania withered a bit when she met Aria’s gaze, but she continued with her firm tone and said, “That’s enough, Ari.”
“Tani-“
“I can’t hate you.”
Aria shook her head. “I said it’s fine-“
“No.” Titania sighed. “Hating you… I thought I did. But…” She unfolded her arms and then stared at her hands. “After… After I…”
“After you killed her, you wished that she was still alive.”
Titania flinched. She glanced at Aria and then averted her gaze. “That…”
Nowun sat down and shook his head. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone realizes too late what they really want. You’re just fortunate enough to get a second chance at it, so you might as well enjoy it, Princess.”
“Even so… Ari and I… Even though she’s alive now-“
Aria let out an exasperated sigh. “Is that what you’re worried about, Tani?”
“Ari…”
“In that case,” Aria said. “Let’s just call it even. We had an argument and hit each other a few times. Now that it’s over, we can make up and go back to normal, right?”
A wry smile crossed Titania’s face. “I… don’t think we can just brush over what happened that easily.”
“Of course we can!” Aria smiled and said, “I’m alive, you’re alive, and we’re both healthy. That’s all that matters, right?”
Titania stared at Aria and then sighed. “Nothing ever fazes you. Even now, you’re shining as brightly as ever, Ari.”
“Hm?”
Titania shook her head and then glanced over at Nowun. “…Can I trust you to stay out of trouble for once, ‘Mister Nowun’?”
Nowun scoffed. “As if I could even walk out to find any.”
“Good.” Titania nodded and then gathered up the food and utensils on the table. “I will leave to take care of this mess. It will not be long… but I expect the both of you to be here when I return.”
Aria nodded and said, “I’ll keep an eye on Mister Nowun, Tani.”
Titania nodded again and then walked off. Although she tried to keep on the same cold and sharp air she had earlier, she couldn’t hide the slight spring in her step on the way out.
Seeing that, Aria smiled and shook her head. “I guess some things don’t change after all. Right, Mister Nowun?”
Nowun watched Titania leave and said, “Right.” When Titania’s form vanished into the distance, he turned his gaze towards Aria and said, “Now… how much do you remember?”
HappyVainGlory
Phew. A bit tougher than expected to get back into the routine, but I'm determined to see it through. Hope the chapter was enjoyable! Still going over my notes again to see where I want to take the story next, but I've got a bit sketched out for the future so hopefully that goes well...
Thanks as always for reading as well as your comments!
|
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"Elves",
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|
A cottage beside an emerald bamboo forest. There, by a small, bubbling creek, a man with a stern expression and flowing black robes sat cross-legged by the water’s edge, eyes closed in meditation.
The stream’s course was constant and yet changing. The water that passed through now was not the same as the water that passed before. Although it had one source, by the time the water reached the man, it had already diverged, becoming its own existence.
One source, many streams. But at the end, those streams reconvened, crossing with each other through the infinite reverberations of the world once the water evaporated, the fundamental elements-
“Daddy!”
A bright and cheerful voice.
Before the man knew it, a tiny warm figure had jumped into his lap.
Opening his eyes, he saw a cute and adorable young girl looking up at him with sparkling violet eyes. Her hair was frazzled, different from her mother’s straight silky hair, but those delicate features and bright smile were exactly the same as hers.
Well, the same as her mother’s when she had still been young and innocent, unlike how she was now.
“I did it!” The little girl held out her hands and said, “See?”
A glimmer of light. The faint wisps accompanying someone who managed to convert the ambient energy into their own qi.
Seeing that, Nowun let out a wry smile. “You really are a little genius, aren’t you, Ai?”
“Heehee.” She smiled and nuzzled against his chest.
“Zhan Ai!” At that time, a sharp voice cut through the air. “How many times have I told you to not run away during lessons!”
Nowun laughed and gently set his daughter on the ground beside him. “Come on, Ai. Hurry back inside before your Aunt Nia gets upset.”
“Don’t wanna!” She grabbed Nowun’s arm and said, “Why can’t daddy teach me?”
Nowun sighed and gently brushed his daughter’s hair down, smoothing. “I told you already, didn’t I?” Glancing back at the cottage, he lowered his voice and said, “We have to make your Aunt seem useful or else she’ll take it out on Uncle Nero later.”
Ai giggled.
“I heard that, you bastard!”
The door to the cottage slammed shut and then a woman walked out.
Slightly pointed ears, her honey-colored hair tied in a strict bun and kept in place by ivory pins. She wore a form-fitting black dress with a golden dragon that Nowun felt was a bit too much considering how old she was, but it seemed that it was to her taste, so he didn’t question it too much.
Titania marched over to the stream and picked up Ai, slinging her over her shoulder. “You little rascal… Why is it that the one who takes after Master Xinxin the most in appearance has to take after her bastard father’s personality?”
“Nooo! Daddy!” Ai flailed, squirming beneath Titania’s grasp and trying to escape. “Help me!”
Nowun glanced at Titania, raising an eyebrow.
She glared back, promising divine retribution… Well, an expression promising divine retribution.
Seeing that, Nowun shrugged and said, “Go finish your studies, Princess.”
“Traitor! I’m telling Mommy on you!”
“Hmph.” Titania spun around and said, “You can tell your mother all you want later, Ai. But that won’t change the fact that you have to finish your etiquette and cultivation lessons first.”
“Daaaddy!”
Nowun bit back a laugh at the ridiculous sight before standing up to stretch.
The door to the cottage slammed shut again. This time, formations welled up around it, preventing his wayward daughter from escaping again.
Seeing that, he shook his head and said, “How did a sweet woman like Xinxin result in a tomboy like that…?”
Frankly, it made him nervous for the future. Right now, Ai was still just six years old, but it wouldn’t be long until she reached that rebellious phase of a teenager.
Considering how Xinxin had been at that age and how she had been naïve enough to fall in love with a bad guy like him of all people… complicated circumstances aside, Nowun seriously worried that either he’d be heartbroken in the future… or that he’d have to stop a war from raging as his precious princess broke the hearts of every young master and prince throughout the world.
“You seem troubled, Father.”
Nowun resisted the urge to jump at the sudden voice and slowly turned around towards the speaker.
A young man… No, a boy just stepping into the teenaged years stood a few feet away from Nowun.
Zhan Longtian, Nowun and Xinxin’s son, twice Ai’s age at twelve years old.
Like Ai, he took more after Xinxin than he did Nowun in terms of appearance. Longtian’s face was delicate, a bit feminine, and his skin was pristine and flawless. However, the sharp dark eyes and well-trained body showed that he was anything but dainty.
In fact, if Nowun remembered right, this little bastard was toying around with both Elio’s daughter and some of those angelic emissaries from the Western Mountainranges…
“Father?” Longtian tilted his head to the side and said, “My apologies. Did I disturb your cultivation?”
And then there was that. For some inexplicable reason, the kid was extremely composed and mature for his age. Well-mannered… and somehow capable of hiding his presence even to Nowun’s spiritual sense.
Was it a natural result of the saying that a tiger didn’t beget a dog son? No matter who or what evaluated him, Longtian was an outstanding and incredible kid that had a wide heart and a calm mind as well as heaven-defying talents.
Nowun slowly shook his head and said, “No. I was just finishing up and thinking about your sister, Son.”
Right. Son. No matter how incredible the kid was, he was still Nowun’s son.
Hearing that word made Longtian brighten up a bit. Letting out a serene smile, he said, “Did little Ai escape from Aunt Nia again?”
“She did, but your Aunt came right out and dragged her back.”
“Mm.” Longtian nodded and said, “Don’t blame her too much, Father. Little Ai adores you a great deal.”
Nowun nodded. “I know… but I’m starting to get worried that I’m spoiling her too much… I mean, I’m usually just here cultivating and spend half the day with her.”
“Then perhaps you should go help mother with her duties in administrating the sect, Father?”
“Maybe…” Nowun started to nod in agreement and then he remembered something. “Wait a minute.” He narrowed his eyes at Longtian and said, “Aren’t you supposed to be training with Alice and Victoria right now?”
Just like how Ai was supposed to be in her lessons, this brat was supposed to be training with Erik’s two daughters.
Longtian coughed. “This… is true. But I thought that I should check on Father for a moment and see how far I had developed my stealth arts.”
“Stealth arts…?” Nowun paused, coming to a sudden realization. “Wait. Don’t tell me that the reason you’re so good at hiding is because you’re running away from those-“
“Forgive me Father, but I should return. See you at dinner tonight.” With that brief farewell and a short bow, Longtian vanished from sight.
Nowun stood there for a few moments, surprised at how well that guy ran away. And then he sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Crazy bastard… Then again, I guess he really is my kid if he has that kind of luck with women…”
Longtian didn’t say it, but the way he ran off was definitely the same way that Nowun used to do to evade the topic of who he liked more between Xinxin and Aria in the past… Well, before he dragged that other guy out and threw everything his way.
At that time, space rippled and a familiar presence emerged.
Stepping lightly onto the ground in front of him like a fairy from the celestial realm, a heaven-defying beauty in a flowing white robe turned around, scanning the area. Her eyes, an imperial shade of violet that glimmered like amethyst stars, swept across the surroundings while her hair, like strands of the night sky, shifted in the wind.
Xinxin, Nowun’s lovely wife and Faithful Companion.
Taking one more look around the surroundings, Xinxin frowned and turned to Nowun. “Sifu, you haven’t seen our wayward son by chance, have you?”
Nowun sighed. “Am I going to have to remind you every day to stop calling me that, Xinxin?”
She crossed her arms and said, “And how many times do I have to remind you? It’s Sifu until you let me call you Hubby or you call me by a nickname.”
“Fine, Wifey. Whatever you say.”
“And that doesn’t count, Sifu.” She looked around. “Ai is still with Nia… but I don’t sense Longlong anywhere. I could have sworn he was just here though…”
“Did something happen?”
Xinxin nodded. “Little Alice and Vicky came running to me crying about our son leaving them in the middle of the training grounds. I couldn’t make much out since they were hysterical, but they mentioned something about a broken promise and a trip out to the Sun Kingdom later in the evening.”
Later in the evening…
Ah.
‘You sly bastard.’
Today was the day that a festival was going to occur to celebrate the previous Heaven King’s… Wang Tian’s birthday.
It was also the day that became infamous for girls expecting boys to pledge their undying love to the ones they cared about so that the girls could return the favor on the Heaven Seizer’s… Xinxin’s birthday later in the year.
Xinxin frowned. “Do you have any idea where he is, Sifu?”
“Absolutely none.”
Xinxin narrowed her eyes. “Siiifuuu. You had better not be lying to me.”
“I’m not. I really don’t have a clue where he is right now.” Sighing, he said, “That kid’s even better at run- I mean concealing his presence than I am.”
“…Running, huh?”
“…I never said that. I said concealing his presence.”
“Right, right.” Xinxin nodded. “It really is like father like son then…”
A calm voice, nonchalant.
Of course, when Xinxin spoke like that, it meant that she was absolutely furious.
Nowun made a quiet prayer for his son and hoped that he had worked on his physique training as much as his stealth arts.
“In any case…” Xinxin turned back to Nowun and said, “I just managed to finish up the documents for the day and get away from Erik.”
Nowun raised an eyebrow and said, “Who was it that was just complaining about our son running away?”
Xinxin waved her hand. “Don’t mind the details. I wanted to know if you wanted to have lunch with me? It’s been a long time since it’s been just the two of us, and I wanted to share a special dessert with you over tea.”
“A dessert huh?”
“Mmhm.” Xinxin grabbed Nowun’s arm before he could refuse and said, “A special dessert that’s sweet and pure with a few spots of pink. You see, I’ve been really, really stressed lately and I really wanted to share this dessert with you, Sifu.” She looked up at Nowun and licked her lips. “You won’t say no, right?”
|
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|
After roaming around the sect for a while, I decided to head back to Xinxin's house.
The mission to the treasury, unfortunately, was a failure.
Although I had Information Concealment to walk around unbothered, I'd forgotten that I was still weakened. It would be simple to use my spiritual sense to find out where the treasury was, but doing so without my dear disciple noticing was impossible.
Also, unlike the Zhan Clan's resources that were kept in a blatantly obvious and heavenly guarded building, it seemed that One Tin guy was more careful and hid the place either in plain sight or under a meticulously crafted concealment field.
Either way, it was a dead end for me so I headed back.
The sun had begun to set, coloring the clear blue sky an orange hue. An idyllic scene, as if taken straight from a painting.
However, when I arrived back at Xinxin's house, it wasn't as peaceful as the sky above.
The air was chilly, frost gathering on the grass and flowers. At the same time, gusts of winds flew across the area, rattling the bamboo forest. The one responsible for such a phenomenon spun around, slashing through the air again, sending her honey-colored hair scattering.
I dropped Information Concealment and walked over. Staring at Titania, I raised an eyebrow and said, "You're training quite hard."
She froze and then spun around to face me. "You!" Titania walked over and jabbed a finger at me. "You have some nerve leaving in that condition! Not only that, but you left Ari alone without so much as a word!" She sheathed her sword at her side and then crossed her arms. "Where did you even wander off to?"
"What I do is none of your concern, even if you are my disciple's personal servant. Besides, it wasn't as if I was leaving forever. I just decided to take a stroll around to sect for some fresh air."
Titania narrowed her eyes. "And you thought it would be best to do that by pretending to take a nap first before leaving a young girl by her lonesome?"
"Again, none of your concern." I walked past her and said, "Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to meditate by the pond to restore my body."
Titania turned around and said, "We are not finished with this discussion!"
I ignored her and sat down by the pond's edge, closing my eyes.
"You insufferable...! Gah!" Titania huffed and said, "How does Master Xinxin and Ari deal with you?"
"By leaving me be."
Titania let out a long breath and then muttered, "Just what do those two see in that guy? If it were me, I'd never even give him the time of day. Actually falling in love with him..."
Hearing that, I wanted to laugh considering the developments in that other timeline with my remnant. Still, I bit that back and said, "Don't worry. It'd take some divine intervention for me to want to be with you as well."
"You...!" The shrill sound of a drawn blade echoed in the surroundings before it was cut off by the sound of it being slammed back into its sheath. "Hmph! You had better not leave this time or Master Xinxin's orders be damned, I will drag you back here even if I have to beat you black and blue!"
I snorted. "Sure. Whatever makes you sleep better at night, Honeybuns."
At that time, a soft sigh echoed. "Mister Nowun, could you stop making fun of Tani?"
I cracked open my eyes.
Aria walked over, carrying a small porcelain bowl with a spoon resting against its side. Her clothes were different, and it seemed that she decided to change into some of Xinxin's spare clothing. A soft lilac dress with trailing white sleeves had replaced her usual black dress. It was a bit small on her, making it appear sensuous but, whether because of Aria's naivety or optimism, it gave off a cute charm instead.
Seeing her walking over, I gave her a short nod before focusing back on restoring my wounds. Still, I kept my awareness up to watch what was going on just in case.
Titania frowned and said, "You're too light on him, Ari. He ran out on you twice, did he not? If he were my partner, I would never forgive him... And weren't you upset just a few moments ago?"
"And that's why you're still single, Tani."
"Kuh-!" Titania stepped back, clutching her heart. "Th-That is-"
"In any case," Aria said. "Mister Nowun always comes back when it counts, so does it really matter?"
Titania sighed and muttered, "Father would be rolling in his grave if he knew his precious daughter was in love with such an unreliable man."
Aria flinched.
Titania winced and shook her head. "Ari, I-"
"It's fine, Tani." Aria lowered her gaze and said, "You didn't mean it."
A pang of guilt echoed in my heart at that sight.
At the same time, my dear disciple came into my thoughts.
Aria, while losing her home and family, still had Titania. It was a tense and awkward relationship considering what had gone on between the two, but whatever the case they still had each other.
My disciple... Xinxin, had none of that. Her home, her family... all of that had vanished. Not only that, but it had happened in an instant. The only thing she had left... was me.
It was a cold realization. A harsh truth.
Because of that, I unconsciously vocalized my feelings. "Sorry."
Titania instantly turned to look at me, shock in her face.
At the same time, Aria's eyes widened.
I immediately withdrew my awareness and focused on recovering my cultivation base and mana.
Perhaps realizing that I had no intention of saying anything else, Titania let out a long sigh and said, "I am going to draw out a bath inside, Ari. Maybe it will help me calm down... Goddess knows I need to with all of this."
"Alright, Tani. I'll stay out here with Mister Nowun then."
There were the sounds of footsteps, followed shortly after by a door opening and closing. Not long after, there was a brief rustling, and then someone sat down beside me.
I cracked open my eyes to see Aria sitting alongside me, holding the bowl on her lap.
It was an enchanting sight. Whether because of the atmosphere, the setting, or the change in clothes, Aria seemed like an innocent fairy from ancient times. An immaculate and sacred being that could only be tarnished by being in this material world.
But she was tarnished. The naivety and innocence that should have persisted was crushed by reality... and the affection that should never have been granted was directed towards me.
A complicated feeling.
I still didn't know how to feel about her. While I didn't regret what happened in the past... No, I refused to regret it. Either way, I didn't know how to interact with her.
Not only that, there was the recent knowledge that her soul was incomplete.
That worried me.
Just what was Aria's role in everything?
More importantly... What should I do about it?
"It's alright, Mister Nowun." Aria's soft voice echoed and she said, "You don't have to feel guilty about leaving or explain anything."
At those words, I completely opened my eyes.
Aria was staring into the bowl, slowly stirring the broth inside with the spoon. Slightly melancholic, slightly accepting.
I... didn't know what to say to that. No, words were too cheap to address my actions. So, instead of that, I simply nodded in acceptance and said, "How are you doing?"
Aria stopped stirring and mumbled. "How I'm doing...?"
"That's right." I turned to look at her and said, "Has anything changed since I've been gone? It should have been perfect, but considering the method I used..."
Aria was quiet for a bit and then she set the bowl off to her side. That done, she turned to me and said, "Mister Nowun. Why did you save me?"
"...Eh?" Of all things she could say, I didn't expect that.
Aria hugged her knees and said, "I know you saved me on a whim the first time. But the second time... You were strong enough that you didn't need to. Not only that, but with Miss Saphira at your side, I was only a burden. So... why did you save me?"
"Silly girl." I shook my head and said, "Do I need a reason?"
It was true that Aria was more of an obligation and burden than anything… and it was also true that the Goddess was pushing us together at the beginning. But so what?
I shrugged and said, “I simply felt like it.”
Aria stared at me, her eyes wide. After that, she let out a sigh and gave me a soft smile. "Of course. It's just like you to say something like that, Mister Nowun."
"What brought on that line of questioning anyway?"
Aria paused and then shook her head. "I don't know. It's just... I'm worried." She placed her right hand on her chest and said, "It's faint, but I can feel something calling me. It's like a quiet voice whispering in my heart, telling me to return to Alvheim."
I frowned.
Alvheim... it seemed like everything kept converging there.
Just what did that Goddess have in-
Suddenly, a pair of warm arms wrapped around me. The soft scent of vanilla filled the air and something soft pressed against my chest.
I blinked and then opened my mouth to ask what Aria was doing. But before I could, I saw her expression and bit my tongue.
"...I'm scared, Mister Nowun." Aria leaned back and stared at me. Her usually bright emerald eyes were dim with worry and fear. "I can feel it. If I go there, if you don't need me... I'm going to disappear. I'm going to disappear and someone else, that voice is going to take my place." She buried her head into my chest and then said, "I don't want that! I know that you don’t need me, I know that I’m just a burden, but… but…!"
I sighed and patted her back. "You need to stop worrying about pointless things, silly girl. Besides... who said I didn't need you?"
"H-Huh?"
I gently pushed her back and smiled. "It's because of you that I got this far in the first place. And… I suppose it’s true that you might be useless in fighting now, but who says it will always be that way?"
Aria shook her head. "But compared to Tani, Miss Saphira, and Miss Xinxin-"
“It will be fine. And even if you never become strong enough to stand on your own two feet…”
The tangled emotions in my heart. The bound up karma between us.
I cleanly sorted them out and made my decision. "I won't leave you. No, I won't lose you."
One faithful companion had already been lost in the past. While it had never been able to voice its feelings or thoughts, it still devoted all of its being to ensure that I survived. That genuine care and devotion... was there in Aria as well.
While our past was tangled up with anger, gratitude, and countless other emotions, good and bad, as well as the Goddess's intentions, whatever the case Aria was still someone who trusted me and wanted the best for me.
And that Goddess was trying to take her from me.
I wouldn't allow that.
The world had already taken enough from me. Both here and back on Earth, I-
Huh?
Back on Earth...
...What did I lose back on Earth?
Suddenly, the soft sound of objects clattering to the ground echoed in the surroundings.
I glanced over to see what was going on and then froze.
A familiar beauty stood in front of the house. My dear disciple... Xinxin. Her arms were outstretched, holding a pile of precious medical ingredients. But, as if stopping mid-stride, a portion of that had fallen to the ground.
That was what I heard.
A bright smile was on her face, as beautiful as a blossoming lotus. But, like how flowers wilted in the fall, that expression was fading away as she stared at me.
Suddenly, I realized how it looked.
Sending her away, telling her to tend to her duty instead of myself. Then, when she returned after her diligent duties, she saw me in the arms of another woman.
Even if I hadn't properly accepted her feelings, I was well aware of how deep they ran. And so, seeing this-
Xinxin's eyes watered and she spun around. The precious medical ingredients were cast to the ground, thrown away like rubbish.
I got up and held out my hand. "Wait! Xin-"
Darkness surged... and she was gone.
"...Xin."
“M-Mister Nowun?”
I glanced back at Aria and frowned. I had just said that I wouldn't leave her, but...
Aria looked to the fallen ingredients and then rounded on me, anger in her face. Without any warning, she pushed me towards them and said, "What are you standing around for?! Go after Miss Xinxin!"
"But-"
"No buts! I’m glad you're worried about me, but I’ll be fine!” Aria averted her gaze for a moment and stared at where Xinxin vanished. “I still have Tani, but Miss Xinxin… she only has you, doesn’t she?”"
“…Dammit.”
Aria was right.
I ran, quickly grabbing all of the ingredients scattered on the ground as I passed with Dragon's Grasp and devouring them. There was a surge of energy and information, but I ignored all of that.
The world sharpened as my weak spiritual sense strengthened from my rise in cultivation base. At the same time, power filled my body again as mana coursed through my veins.
Using that and the faint trace of Xinxin’s powers still coursing through my body, I ran off after her…
HappyVainGlory
Well, this turned more dramatic than I intended. :shrug: You guys might hate me a bit with what's coming next chapter... but I hope this one was enjoyable! Next one will be out Tuesday! Until then, take care and thanks as always for reading!
|
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|
"...And so I was thinking that it would be a good idea to incorporate some magical formations along the interiors of Alvheim's halls. It would only be in a last resort scenario, but-" Nazin cut off his words and then sighed. "You're not paying attention, Titania."
"W-What?" The eldest elf princess blinked and sat up straight. She quickly adjusted her hair and said, "Of course I am!"
Nazin shook his head.
After meeting with Serena and learning that they were only a month out from the Imperial Army returning to attack Alvheim, Nazin had decided to revise their battle plan with Titania, the main person in charge of Alvheim's defense barring the Kingsguard.
They were back in his house, the building that Yggdrasil herself... or rather, Iggy, had crafted for him and his girls to live in. Specifically, he and Titania were seated in the dining room, using the dining table to spread out maps of the surrounding areas.
The current one on the table displayed a rough layout of Alvheim's interior. The main hall, the winding passageway to the residential area, the branches to the throne room... Nazin had dotted places along that route with crimson ink and meticulously plotted it out.
He thought Titania would appreciate it since she was a stickler for details, but the reality was contrary to his expectations.
"Why are you so distracted anyway?"
Titania glanced at Nazin and then looked away, blushing.
"Tani."
Titania turned her head to the side and twirled her hair. "It's... I don't mean to. But I still can't get that night out of my head. Also that you and I are... well..."
Nazin flushed and then coughed into his hand. "T-That's understandable then. But this is important."
Titania glanced at Nazin and then nodded. Taking a deep breath, she slapped her cheeks and said, "My apologies, Lord Nazin. Could you go over the situation again?"
"Alright. Then I'll start from the top." Nazin unfurled another map. This one was a map of the entire continent. On it, he tapped the Northern Empire and said, "From the look of things, the Imperial Army will march in a week." He traced out a line towards the Ancient Forest and said, "I'm still not sure if they're aiming for Yggdrasil or just to get rid of you guys, but either way we need to prepare."
Titania nodded. "That sounds reasonable." She frowned and said, "The attack was indeed unexpected. It's possible that there is a hidden objective at play."
"That's right." Nazin nodded and said, "It's too obvious for it to just be straightforward prejudice or to take advantage. Well." Nazin pulled back Alvheim's map and said, "Whatever the case we shouldn't need to worry too much about the soldiers. What we need to be concerned about are the Empire's special forces."
Titania's face grew grim. "The Braves."
"Right. The Braves that were summoned from another world." Nazin remembered those guys with cheat-like abilities and said, "I took care of most of them, but there's no telling if more have been summoned. Not only that, the ones that survived were... strong."
Cheats that defied the world's logic, wishy-washy powers that worked just because.
Nazin felt like cursing Serena out a bit at that. Then again, his power was even worse than all of those combined, so maybe he shouldn't be talking...
Titania looked at Nazin and said, "What do you have planned? And what do you need me to do?"
"Well..." Nazin thought a bit and said, "It's likely the Imperial soldiers will use chaos mana. That'd make it difficult for you guys to fight back."
It was technically still mana, meaning that it was possible to use magic. However, since the elves were used to the well-ordered mana from Yggdrasil, it would be hard to adjust... which Nazin had experienced first hand in the other timelines.
"In that case..."
Nazin glanced around the room. Seeing a stray sword lying on the ground, probably one that Aria used to practice with, he walked over to pick it up.
"Lord Nazin?" Titania tilted her head, confusion in her eyes.
Since Iggy had given him her protection, and since he had gained [Light's Order], with his [Grant Skill]...
A flash of white light filled the room. When it died down, the sword had been changed.
"Hm..." Nazin swung it a few times to test it out. "It's about on par with that shoddy chaos blade from back then, but it should be good enough. Here Tani." He walked over and handed the sword hilt first to Titania.
She blinked and grabbed it. When she did, her eyes widened. "This sword... carries Yggdrasil's protection? No, it radiates it?"
Nazin sat back down and said, "It could be better, but what do you think a group of elite elven warriors could do with those kinds of weapons, Tani?"
"This..." A bright smile filled Titania's face. She looked up at Nazin and said, "This will definitely help! With this, no matter what chaos they try to ensue, we can still use our magic and fight."
Nazin nodded, a smile on his face as well. "Thought so. Then, for the next part-"
Footsteps echoed, approaching the dining room. Not long after, a beautiful blonde elf wearing a loose violet dress walked into the room. She stifled a yawn and then turned towards Titania. "What are you doing flirting with my husband so early in the morning, Tani?"
Titania flushed. "Th-That... Lord Nazin is not yours, Ari!"
"That's what you think." She winced and clutched her head. "You're lucky I've got a headache right now or I'd give you a piece of my mind." Aria shook her head and then walked over to an icebox in the corner of the room. Grabbing a cup, she poured herself some juice.
Nazin frowned and said, "Where've you been, Aria? You weren't in bed this morning and you didn't leave a note behind like you usually do."
Aria took a sip from her cup. Afterwards, she sighed and said, "I didn't feel well so I went out to get some fresh air. That's all."
Nazin's frown deepened as he examined Aria.
She looked pale. A thin sheen of sweat was on her forehead and her eyes were baggy, dark circles on her eyelids.
"...There wasn't anything alcoholic in what we ate for dinner last night, right?"
It definitely wasn't a cold or illness, not with Iggy's protection around. The only thing he could think of was a hangover.
Aria frowned but then shook her head. "I used some to bake, but it should have burned off. That can't be it."
"Then-"
A cold sigh echoed in the room. "Is it not obvious?" A beautiful woman walked over to the dining table. A black dress that contrasted with her snowy white hair, azure-colored eyes... Saphira glanced at Aria and then said, "The girl is pregnant."
Nazin froze.
A sword clattered to the ground. Titania had dropped it in her shock, her emerald eyes wide in shock.
Aria's eyes widened as well, and then she rolled her eyes. "That's impossible. Even with everything we did, it's far too soon to show any signs of that. If anything, it's your fault, Fi. What kind of teacher forces their student to use all of their mana and then fight until they collapse."
Titania let out a deep breath and then nodded. "Right. That... that makes more sense. Ah." She noticed she had dropped the sword. She quickly bent over to grab it and said, "My apologies, Lord Nazin."
Nazin blinked, his mind finally spinning back into motion. He sighed and said, "It's fine. And I think Aria's right, Saphira. If something like that happened, I think Iggy would bug me about it too."
The World Tree spirit kept bugging him about finding an heir so she could have a younger brother or sister to play with. Considering that she kept track of everything living in Alvheim, she would have showed up first thing to congratulate him about it.
Saphira paused. After a bit, she slowly nodded and said, "That is the more reasonable explanation..." She shifted her gaze to Aria and said, "After all, an immature brat like her couldn't raise a child if she wanted to."
Ominous dark wind swirled around Aria's hands. "What was that you old hag?"
White lightning crackled around Saphira. "I said-"
"That's enough." Nazin rubbed his temples and said, "Could you two get along for once? We don't have time to mess around like this."
"...Sorry."
"My apologies, Master."
Nazin sighed. He turned back to Titania and said, "Anyway, I'll leave the prep work to you. Pass that around and make sure that everyone's ready by the end of the month to fight with something similar."
Titania glanced at Aria again, but then she nodded. "As you say Lord Nazin. Then... I will be on my way." With those words said, she left.
Like that, it was just Nazin, Aria, and Saphira in the house.
Aria sat down where Titania was and sighed, idly sipping from her cup.
Nazin stared at her and said, "Are you really alright, Aria?"
Aria smiled. "What? Are you that worried about being a father? I thought you were going to take responsibility after what you did to me?"
"T-That-"
Aria laughed. "I'm just kidding. Something like that at this time would be disastrous... But don't worry." She smiled and said, "I haven't undergone the coming of age ceremony yet so we couldn't even if we wanted to. A certain old hag on the other hand..." She shifted her gaze over to Saphira.
The dragon blinked and then she shook her head. Turning her gaze to Nazin she said, "Worry not, Master. As a Divine Dragon... even if fallen, I am well aware of my body. The only means for me to bear a child would be if I desired it. Th-Though..." She flushed and averted her gaze. "I-If Master were to command me, I suppose I would have no choice in the matter."
Nazin coughed. "T-That's a bit too much information there, Saphira."
Aria laughed. Shortly after, Saphira joined in.
Nazin sighed. "Well, it seems you two are fine if you can joke around like that."
Aria nodded. "It's also nice that the harsh Mister Nowun... or rather, Demon Lord Nazin learned to lighten up."
"Well, Iggy did fill my heart with light when I got her blessing so I'd say that was inevitable."
Aria rolled her eyes. After though, she gave Nazin a serious look. "Joking aside, Nazin. We're fine... but you might want to double check with Tani."
"Huh?"
"Well... Sis might be getting up there, but she's still in her prime. Not only that, but since that night made it clear that she was a maiden, her body might... you know? Want a child?"
Nazin froze.
That... was something that would be right up that Goddess's alley in terms of causing him trouble.
He quickly made a silent plea. *Serena... You wouldn't do that to me. Would you?*
Unsurprisingly, there wasn't a response.
While Nazin started sweating about the potential flag that had been raised, Saphira spoke up.
"In any case, Master. What were you discussing with Titania?"
"Ah." Nazin decided to take the rope tossed at him and put the other matter to the side. "You see..."
HappyVainGlory
A bit of an early chapter this time since I managed to get everything done sooner than expected. Still... Not too sure how I feel about this one. Ah well, a bit late at this point to change it... Either way, I hope the chapter was enjoyable! Thanks for reading and I'd appreciate it if you left a comment about your thoughts so far if you've made it to this point.
|
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|
“-Neol Won!”
Neol Won blinked and looked around.
An ordinary lecture hall- No. That was wrong. It was a classroom. The place where he was supposed to take his final exams for his university classes.
The professor… Neol couldn’t remember the guy’s name, some average old guy with balding hair and a tweed jacket. Anyway, that guy was proctoring the exam and had wandered over to stand at the edge of Neol’s desk.
Sighing, the professor said, “Even if it’s a beautiful day out and the last exam in the university schedule, you shouldn’t be falling asleep yet. What if you fail?”
Neol slowly shook his head and sat up before sliding his exam over. “I already finished.”
“Hm?” The professor took the sheet, quickly flipping through the pages. As he did, his eyes widened. “These are-“
Neol stood up and grabbed his bag. “I’m done. Take care, Professor.”
Ignoring the shocked gazes from his peers, Neol walked out of the room.
“Three, huh? Too early for dinner and too late for lunch.” Neol sighed and put his phone away. “Unlucky as usual, I see.”
Adjusting his bag, he rounded the corner of the university building to the sidewalk leading home.
Like the professor said, it was a beautiful day out. The sky was a clear blue, the sun was bright but warm instead of burning. There was even a gentle breeze, one that… seemed to be getting closer to him?”
“Ah.”
Without breaking stride, Neol stepped to the side.
Just as he did, a biker flew past. A man wearing the usual bright green clothing that bikers did. Barely missing Neol, the biker winced and then threw out his hand. “Sorry!”
Neol shook his head and kept walking. Adjusting his bag over his left shoulder, he wondered what he should eat. There was still some leftover chicken in his freezer and some broccoli, but he didn’t really feel like cooking…
“Head’s up!”
Another breeze, rushing towards his face.
Neol held up his left hand to block it and then slightly closed it. When he did, something collided with his hand. Brown leather, a slightly pointed form that would have blown out his eye and blinded him if he hadn’t caught it… A football.
An athlete wearing a jersey with the university’s mascot ran over, panting. “I don’t know what happened, man. The ball just flew out of my hands…”
Neol tossed it over to him. “Don’t worry about it.”
The athlete sighed in relief. “Thanks, man. But that was some pro reaction time! Do you-“
“Not interested.” Cutting the athlete off, Neol waved his hand and walked away.
As he did, he was lost in thought again, pondering on what to do for the rest of the day. The exam was easier than expected… He really overprepared for it. Really, he should have at least grabbed some breakfast instead of cramming in those flashcards.
A wave of fatigue swept through Neol and he yawned, stretching his arms. “Maybe I should just get back home and sleep…?”
He shook his head and stopped in front of a crosswalk. There was a red light and heavy traffic. But that was a given, considering all the people trying to get back home or move out now that classes were over.
Although the sidewalks were fairly empty at the moment… Probably since most of the other students were still trying desperately not to fail their finals.
Neol yawned again and then rotated his shoulder, doing some light exercises to stay awake.
At that time, he noticed a beautiful young woman stop beside him, waiting at the crosswalk too. She glanced over, causing him to catch her features.
Startling green eyes, a delicate face with contrasting Oriental and Western features that would turn heads no matter where in the world she went. And then there was her hair, a bright blonde, almost like golden wheat.
But she seemed lost in thought, quickly averting her gaze. From her attire, a plain black blouse and pants, as well as a nametag in her pocket, it looked like she just got off work. Idly adjusting the strap on her purse, she pulled out her phone and stared intently at the screen, as if desperately waiting for a response.
Neol shrugged. While he was curious about what a girl like her was doing out here at this time, it wouldn’t be the first one he came across.
More importantly… What was he going to do now that summer had arrived and he had all this free time?
A robotic voice called out. “Walk. Walk.”
Glancing up, Neol saw that the light had changed to green, and that the pedestrian crossing symbol had changed to walk.
Still, out of habit, he lingered around a bit before crossing, just to make sure.
But the girl didn’t. Still staring at her phone, she quickly took a step forward, walking on the street.
There wasn’t any oncoming traffic since the light was green in their direction.
At least, that should have been the case.
But to the right, a semi-truck flew down the street, barreling through oncoming traffic.
The girl, still staring at the phone, finally noticed when the semi was a few seconds away from turning her into meatpaste. Her beautiful green eyes widened.
Car horns blared, accompanied by the screech of crumpling steel and torn asphalt…
And then the semi-truck missed.
No, it wasn’t that it missed, but that the girl was no longer standing there.
Shrapnel, flying through the air. Cars, flipping to the side like an action movie and moving straight towards her.
Neol held the girl tight in his arms and expertly weaved around all of that, pulling her close.
As he did, he saw a stray steel pipe spin through the air, on collision course with the girl’s neck.
He wrinkled his nose and then lashed out with his right arm, sending the pipe spinning away.
And then he reached the other side of the street. The moment he did, he placed the girl down and let out a deep sigh. “What the hell… I didn’t think there was anyone else who had worse luck than me. What, are the heavens jealous of your beauty or something?”
The girl flushed, placing her heart over her chest. It seemed like she was still processing the harrowing near-death experience since she didn’t respond for a few seconds. But then, she slapped her cheeks and shook her head. “Sorry. I just got fired and then I was lost in thought and so-“
Neol waved his hand. “I don’t need your life story, woman. Just tell me what gods you pissed off so I know who to make an offering to so that I don’t get wrapped up in more bad luck.”
The girl laughed. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t got a clue about that… But thanks for saving me!” She smiled and said, “I’m Rena, by the way. Rena Sanada.”
Neol shook his head. “You’re awfully nonchalant about this…” He straightened and said, “Neol Won. Though… Sanada, huh?” He gave Rena a onceover and nodded. “I thought as much, but you really are a ‘half’, huh?”
The girl, Rena, flushed and crossed her arms. “And just what is that supposed to mean?!”
Neol shrugged. “You got the best of both worlds.” To emphasize, he stared at a few spots that were particularly developed on Rena and said, “No wonder it’s trying so hard to get rid of you.”
Rena’s flushed deepened. “W-What?!”
“Anyway, we should get out of here. I’m bored and I’ve got time to kill, so how about some dinner? Ah, on me, obviously.”
“D-Dinner? Wait, hold on.” Rena blinked and held out her hand. “I-I still need to process-“
A low but audible stomach growl.
Neol raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t from him, after all.
Rena turned beet-red.
|
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|
When I reached the end of the new karmic threads, I arrived at the marketplace.
Unlike how I remembered it, this marketplace was bustling with activity. Elves called out, proudly puffing up their creations and wares. There were even a few human traders who created temporary stalls, setting up tents and dragging along chests to hold their stock.
I moved through the lively crowd and then made my way over to where the threads were leading me. When I arrived, I saw that I wasn’t the only one who reached that place.
Aria and Titania were staring off to the side of a stall manned by a young elven woman with short violet hair. Meanwhile, Saphira was in the middle of a fierce bartering process with the stall owner.
I frowned and made my way towards Aria and Titania before calling out. “Did you two find anything?”
Titania jumped, spinning towards me in a shock, her hand instantly going towards her sword. But seeing me, she sighed and said, “Could you stop appearing out of the blue like that?! What are you, a spirit?”
“By some accounts, yes.” I gave a blithe respond and said, “Aria? Report?”
The younger elven princess shook her head. “We didn’t find out too much. T- Sister and I went around to meet with various people, but they didn’t really want to talk with us about anything important.”
Hearing her sister’s response caused Titania to calm down and she nodded. “As my younger sister said, we could not gain much information.” She clicked her tongue and said, “I knew that some of us were tightlipped around humans, but I did not think it was to this extent…”
“Ah!” Aria’s eyes brightened and she said, “We did hear about one thing! The King’s latest child will be born soon and people are hoping that it’ll be a son this time!”
“Oh?” I placed my hand on my chin, thinking, and said, “Did you get any names?”
“Ah… No.”
I sighed. “Is it because we’re foreigners…?”
From the sound of things, it seemed like events were conspiring to prevent us from finding out information.
Titania shook her head. “I… am not sure.” She looked around and said, “This place is like a distorted mirror. I came across quite a few people that I recognized and knew to be fairly open. Yet, they were different.” She paused. “Though that may be due to my current appearance…”
I frowned. “Should we barge in directly then?”
I knew the way to the throne room as well as the Heart of Yggdrasil. But I had a feeling that wasn’t the right answer here.
Aria and Titania fell silent as well, lost in thought.
At that time, Saphira walked over. “Oh, Master. Did you return already?”
I nodded. “It was a dead end on my part… but I noticed you were negotiating pretty intensely with that elf woman. Did you find something interesting?”
Saphira nodded. “I did.” After that, she raised her hand, opening it to reveal a plain golden ring with a white diamond.
Aria walked over and peered at it before frowning. “An old ring?” She looked up at Saphira and said, “That’s what you traded for?”
Titania marched over as well and glanced at the ring. Seeing it, she sighed and said, “Was that old trinket really worth a scale and that shard of your core, Miss Saphira?”
“What?” I blinked and looked at Saphira.
She shook her head. “It’s fine, Master. I picked them up from the forest in the aftermath of our clash. But more importantly, look!” She gingerly held out the ring and said, “Can you sense it?”
“Hm…?” I frowned and picked up the ring. When I did…
“Huh?’
A strange sensation. Holding it, I felt both nostalgic and regretful. But also…
“The flow of time is distorted around it, Master.” Saphira smiled.
Right. The ring gave a similar feeling to that other place, something that seemed almost ageless. But at the same time, it was clearly weathered by time, the gold faded and the diamond cloudy.
Saphira said, “The elf was adamant about not trading it since she risked her life to procure it from an ancient ruin within the western mountains. She also said that it contained traces of divine power, but that she could never figure out what the ring was for.”
“Hm…”
It was an ordinary ring. A simple gold band with a small white diamond. But that was the strange part about it. In a world where artistry and craftsmanship in accessories was emphasized, to find such a plain ring…
Well, it wasn’t completely ordinary, now that I took a closer look. There seemed to be an inscription on the outside of the ring. But because it was so old, the words were worn out, leaving only behind a few legible letters of what seemed to be a name. ‘R’ and ‘A’.
“That’s sad.”
I blinked, realizing that Aria had somehow come close to me when I was examining the ring.
She stared at the ring and said, “It looks like a wedding band. For it be end up like this… I wonder what happened to it?”
Titania sighed. “Does it matter? Even if time is distorted or whatever around that thing, it changes nothing about the fact that we are here without a clue.”
“I don’t think that’s completely true.” I muttered and turned the ring around in my hands.
It felt familiar. Nostalgic and regretful. Right, that was my first impression on seeing it. Holding it, that sensation only grew stronger. But more than that, there were threads of karma leading away from the ring. Shimmering threads that looked almost like they were trying to lead me somewhere.
“Master?” Saphira looked at me, frowning. “Did you realize something?”
I closed my hand around the ring and nodded. “I think so. And now…” I turned my gaze to where the threads were leading. When I saw where, I frowned. “…Back to the Lost Woods?”
Titania groaned. “Again? This accursed loop… We should never have gone back to Alvheim.”
I let out a wry smile. “At this point, I agree… But let’s not waste time.”
Instead of wasting time walking there, I concealed our presences and then distorted space, bringing us to the edge of the Lost Woods.
Titania staggered when arrive, shaking her head. “I will never become accustomed to that jarring sensation…”
Aria looked a bit pale too, but she smiled and said, “Cheer up, Tani! At least it’s better than walking, right?”
Titania responded by swallowing down a gag and then shaking her head.
Saphira looked a bit pale too… paler than usual at least and nodded. “Spatial leaps are… always disorienting.” She paused and then looked at me. “Though you seem awfully at ease with them, Master.”
I shrugged.
It was probably like motion-sickness where the driver wasn’t bothered by it but the others were.
In any case…
“Let’s go.”
I stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the misty Lost Woods.
Behind me, the others did the same.
The moment I entered, I half expected it to end up like before where time and space immediately distorted. That, or a trick played by the goddess that sent me and Aria away. But instead-
“A light?” Saphira blinked and stared at the ring in my hands. “Did you learn how to use the divine power, Master?”
I glanced at the ring, lighting a path through the forest and then frowned. “No… But I’m even more curious now.”
It was a familiar divine aura, one I was well-accustomed to now after all my time in this world. But…
‘Why is Serena’s divine aura on this ring?’
If it was just her divine aura, I wouldn’t be too bothered. But there seemed to be a connection from the ring to me and then it was also leading me somewhere.
Aria looked over and said, “Mister Nowun? Should we… follow the light?”
I nodded. “It should be fine.”
I walked forward, following the lit path.
Was it because this place was different? The ring? Or coincidence?
Along the way, the only sounds we heard were our footsteps.
As a result, I started getting wary of what might happen. But it turned out I didn’t need to be.
The light died down when we arrived at a forest clearing. And when it did, showing what was hidden there, I froze.
“That’s… the Immortal Door?”
It was different. Rather than pristine ivory like I saw it in the past, it was decaying and covered in dirt. The door itself was partially shattered, leaving only empty space behind it. If anything, it looked like it broke and fell from the sky.
Did someone manage to break through in the past then to reach her?
“Master?” Saphira moved beside me and followed my gaze before frowning. “What are you looking at?”
I frowned. “You… can’t see the door?”
“Door?” Saphira frowned as well.
Titania rolled her eyes. “This mysterious act of yours is getting old, Nowun.”
“Don’t be like that, Tani!” Aria spoke up and said, “Maybe there’s really something there that only Mister Nowun can see!”
I ignored their conversation and glanced back at the ring, following the karmic threads. A few connected to me, and others led through the door.
Just as I was wondering why that might be-
A fragment of a memory emerged.
A scream filled with despair. A dark alleyway. Gunshots, gloves being tossed to the side. And then collapsing in a bed, reaching out to the ceiling.
I flinched and grabbed my head with my left hand. At the same time, light shone from the ring and connected with the Immortal Door.
“What the-?!” Titania stepped back. “There really was a door here?!”
A light rumbling. The door that was half sunken into the ground slowly lifted up, standing properly once more. While it was still broken, it seemed semi-functional now, illuminated from behind by an unknown source.
It wasn’t substantiated, but I could sense it. The door was the way out.
“Seems like this is our ticket back.” I lowered my left hand and glanced at the others. “Get ready for anything, as always.”
Saphira nodded. “Understood, Master.”
Aria smiled. “I’ll be right after you, Mister Nowun!”
Titania sighed. “Again with these unknown dangers… Whatever. Go ahead with whatever you plan, Nowun.”
I nodded and then stepped forward, waving my hand.
The door flew open, revealing an all consuming light. And then-
|
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|
Titania sputtered and then walked over, glaring down at me. “That was your plan!?”
I stood up, brushing off my clothes, and then shrugged. “We’re alive, aren’t we?”
Saphira picked some leaves off her dress and said, “Master. The next time you intend to make a reckless charge through multiple dimensions with the void as a medium, please warn me beforehand.”
Titania blinked and then rounded on me. “You did what?!”
I waved my hand and said, “Don’t concern yourselves with the minor details. For now…” I walked over to Aria, who was still collapsed on the ground, and helped her up. “Are you alright, Aria?”
She groaned, but grabbed my hand, pulling herself up. “Mister Nowun… You really don’t know how to treat a lady, do you?”
“I told you so at the beginning, didn’t I?”
Aria sighed and brushed off her dress. “I suppose so.” She looked around. “Where are we?”
“I’m… not sure.” I looked around. From a casual glance, it seemed to be a clearing a short distance away from Alvheim’s entrance. Except, it looked a bit different.
Saphira frowned. “The flow of time here is different…”
“You can sense that?”
Saphira gave me a wry smile. “Spending an inordinate amount of time in a place outside both time and space tends to give you a sense for this, Master.”
Ah. Right.
Titania turned to look at the towering tree and muttered, “That is definitely Yggdrasil. And it appears to be Alvheim… However, have there always been this many travelers?”
“Hm?”
I followed her gaze and saw that she had a point.
There was a constant stream of people going in and out of the entrance to Alvheim.
Not soldiers, as would be expected if we arrived during the invasion, but all sorts of people. Adventurers that wouldn’t be out of place from RPGs, people that looked like they walked out of ancient China with flowing robes… Even the occasional person with animal features, like a catwoman.
I frowned.
There was too much unknown. Glancing at the three women, I waved my hand and gave them disguises.
Aria became a brunette with blue eyes and rounded ears. Titania, an older woman with similar features. And then for Saphira, light blue hair and green eyes.
Aria noticed first, blinking. “Mister Nowun? What are you doing?”
“Contingincy plans.” I changed my features a bit, sharpening them to be more like the wandering cultivators I killed in the Xia Dynasty. “We need information, so we have to go inside to ask around. I’m not sure who knows us here, so it’s better to be careful.”
Titania hummed, examining Aria and Saphira before turning to me. “Well, this plan seems more reasonable than ‘charging through time and space.’”
Saphira nodded. “Then… What is our next step, Master?”
I paused to think.
This was a place that we ended up at only by following that thin line of karma.
I didn’t know how or why it led here, but it seemed to take us outside of that timeless abyss at any case.
The connection with Xinxin… was still faint. Whether that meant her life was in danger or we were that far apart, I didn’t know. Either way, it wasn’t good.
In that case, the line of karma was our only clue.
Since we were out of that place with distorted time, my spiritual sense was working again. With it, I quickly scanned Alvheim for any dangerous presences, but there was nothing even close to the level of a cultivator from the Xia Dynasty. In short, it was safe… at least it appeared to be.
I frowned, weighing options, and then said, “We enter Alvheim to look around. But we need to be on our guard.” I glanced over at Aria and Titania. “You two are the most familiar with Alvheim, so stick together and look around. It’d be safest if we were in a group, but…”
Titania huffed. “What do you take me for, a helpless maiden? I can protect Aria and myself well enough.”
“Mm…” I glanced at Titania’s weapon and nodded. “If you use that, it should be relatively safe…”
“And myself, Master?” Saphira spoke up. “Am I to go with you?”
I shook my head. “It’s better if we divide and conquer. And you can sense the flow of time, right? If my hypothesis about this place is right, we might get some clues if you find where time is more distorted.”
Saphira gave a hesitant nod. “I… see. And you, Master?”
I glanced at the thin thread that only I could see and said, “There was something that brought us here. A connection or a bond… either way, there’s something connected to me here. I’m going to take a look at what that is.”
“On your own?”
I turned to Saphira and nodded. “Yes. On my own.”
Aria spoke up. “But Mister Nowun-“
“No buts. I don’t like this plan either, but we’re running out of time.” I glanced at the fading thread connecting me to Xinxin and said, “The sooner we get back to the others, the better. And to do that, we need to figure out where we are and why we arrived here.”
Aria sighed.
Titania frowned. “…Loathe as I am to admit it, you have a point. And I am concerned about Master Xinxin as well.”
“Then… let’s go.”
We walked into Alvheim together but quickly went on our separate ways.
Titania took Aria with her, saying that she was going to head towards the usual gathering spots and see if they were the same.
Saphira mentioned that she sensed something off in the marketplace and headed that way.
As for myself…
Tracing out the tiny thread of karma connected to me led through areas of Alvheim I had never been to before.
Open flowerbeds with elves tending to them and visitors sitting in quiet enjoyment.
An open plaza where elves and humans competed to create sculptures.
Even a small library, filled with books written in all sorts of languages.
Was it because this was a different Alvheim? Or was it a different ‘time’? I wasn’t quite sure of the answer, but either way the atmosphere here was different. Lighter and festive, unlike the solemn and emptier space I recalled.
Quietly making my way through the elven city while concealing my traces, I eventually arrived at a small courtyard.
There, a young elf girl was standing.
She couldn’t have been more than ten years old since she was fairly short, standing not even up to my chest.
Despite what girls usually wore at that age, she was dressed in leather overalls and holding a dull iron short sword. Her hair, a light orange color, was tied in a short side ponytail and her eyes, a light green, were narrowed in irritation.
I blinked and looked down at the thread of karma. Surprisingly, it led to the girl in front of me.
‘That’s… weird.’
She didn’t look familiar, and I definitely didn’t have any interactions with children ever since I arrived in this world.
Curious, I made my way closer.
As I did, the young girl scowled and swung her sword. Not in a proper attack, but like a child swinging around a toy in frustration.
“Why won’t it work!?” Pursing her lips, the young girl narrowed her eyes in concentration. With it, mana began to swirl around the blade.
I blinked, surprised at the act.
Were all elf children this adept with mana…?
Even so, while she managed to get the flow of mana right, it didn’t seem to be to her liking as the young girl scowled.
As I watched, I saw a few tiny blue spirits flutter around her, trying to help her out. But it seemed like she either didn’t see them or didn’t care since she stubbornly kept trying to move the mana around the blade on her own.
‘What is she trying to do…?’
It was one thing to try and reinforce a blade with mana. It was another to try and add an edge with mana. But that girl…
Was she trying to imbue the blade with it?
Watching her actions closely, that seemed to be the case. Her mana swirled around the blade, like she was trying to weave it inside. But she kept missing.
I frowned and glanced back at the thread of karma one more time. But without a doubt, it led to the girl in front of me.
The girl tried again, this time adding even more mana to her efforts, as if that act would solve all her problems. But instead-
“Ah!”
The outburst of mana caused the blade to fly off. And the target of it was…
Me?!
I reflexively grabbed the blade. But in doing so, I was forced to reveal my presence.
The girl had started running after her sword. But seeing me appear out of thin air, she froze. Blinking rapidly, she quickly took a few steps back and said, “Who are you? How did you get here?”
I sighed on the inside, but externally I kept a straight face and said, “I noticed someone flailing around with mana so I followed the source and ended up here.”
The girl blinked and then crossed her arm with a huff. “What do you mean, ‘flailing around with mana’?!” Completely forgetting her caution, she marched up to me and wrenched the sword away.
I let her take it, quietly pondering on what to do.
It was clear that there was a connection between me and this young girl… and I was fairly sure I had to resolve this karma as well if I wanted to leave this world. Well, not completely, but if I had a connection here, it meant that there would be some repurcussions if I left it unsettled later.
That much I had learned from the other three women that I had met in this world.
The girl promptly ignored me and raised her sword again, once more trying to weave her mana inside of it. She was also once more ignoring the spirits trying to help her.
Seeing that, I sighed and said, “You’re doing that wrong, you know?”
“Oh yeah, Mister Meanie! Why don’t you do it then!?” Shouting that, she threw her sword at me.
I caught it again and shrugged before holding it out in front of me. “Mana isn’t just a ‘thread’ you know. It can be like a liquid or gas too. And if you’re trying to imbue your sword… it’s better to just soak the blade rather than weave into it.” I paused. “Well, not completely… but this is easier.”
Saying that, I seeped lightning mana into the iron sword, making it spark for a few seconds, before drawing it back and handing the blade to the young girl.
She took it, frowning. “We’ll see about that, Mister Meanie! But if you’re wrong, I’ll have Daddy execute you!”
“Sure, sure. I’ll- Hm?”
The thread of karma snapped. But at the same time, another one formed- No, not just one. A bundle, like a tightly wrapped rope.
Realizing that, I abruptly turned around and left, following the new thread.
Behind me, the girl’s eyes widened in surprise and joy. “It works? It works! Thank you, Mis… ter?”
|
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Titania stared at me, her dark green eyes furrowed in thought.
I leaned back against my chair and stared back. “Hm… You and Xinxin both keep staring at me. Is my face that interesting?”
The elf shook her head, causing her honey-colored hair to shift. “My apologies. It is just…” She frowned, trailing off.
I shrugged and then took a look around.
After recognizing me, Titania invited me to a restaurant since she was on her way to eat. With nothing better to do for the moment, I decided to accept.
It would also help answer some questions. Xinxin never did tell me exactly what timeline we were in… if she knew at all.
The restaurant Titania brought me to was pretty fancy. It was the sort that wouldn’t be out of place in a Chinese martial arts film. A pagoda with multiple stories and even a walkout roof with tables set out by a balcony. From the atmosphere of the levels we passed on the way up, it reminded me of that Jade Bamboo place back in Xinxin’s clan, but not quite as mystical.
Apparently, Titania was a fairly important person in the sect since she managed to get us a place on the top balcony even without me showing my jade slip.
The table itself was a rich dark red wood that reminded me of mahogany, with matching chairs that had soft cushions woven from what looked like silk. Some silverware and plates were already prepared, placed upon a crimson napkin. Spoons, knives, forks, and some chopsticks that looked like they were made from ivory with porcelain plates set off to the side.
The fact that I couldn’t tell for sure bothered me though, reminding me just how much of a hassle it was to not have Analyze available to use.
As expected, there were no other people around on our floor. It was just a private get together between me and Titania. Probably with romantic undertones to the outside observer.
Not like that would ever happen though.
I shifted my gaze back to Titania.
She was the same as I last saw her. No, maybe a bit cleaned up. Her long honey-colored hair was tied in a neat ponytail and her dark green eyes that looked like ominous dark jade were a bit lighter. As if some weight had been lifted from her shoulders. At least, she seemed a bit more lively.
However, she was still a harsh beauty. Though her eyes were a bit livelier, they were still sharp. Beautiful, but like shattered glass instead of gems. Paired with the black robe that hugged her body and the dragon emblazoned on it in a rich dark violet, she seemed like an unapproachable female cultivator than a simple princess.
As I stared at her, Titania frowned and then said, “You are different.”
“I could say the same to you.”
She was still broken. Titania had undergone things that would have… and did destroy other women. But she was sitting there in front of me. The experiences she had only sharpened her.
I could sense it. I could also sense that she was only barely holding back from directing that sharpness at me.
Eventually, Titania nodded. “Yes… Much has happened since we last met.” She narrowed her eyes. “And I had no idea that you had a disciple.”
I shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
At the time we met, I didn’t. Or rather, the me of that time didn’t. Then again, since Xinxin’s world seemed to be set back further in time, I technically did?
…This was why time travel was a pain.
Titania didn’t look convinced, but she decided to change the subject. “What were you doing walking around by yourself? After the effort Master Xinxin took to bring you back, I would have thought you would be at her side.”
“Master Xinxin?” I blinked and then frowned.
Since when did that girl find the time to get a disciple of her own?
“Ah. That…” Titania’s expression dimmed and then she reluctantly tugged the top of her robe down a bit. Doing so revealed pale white skin, a bit of her cleavage… and a black collar wrapped tightly around her neck.
I remembered enough about isekai and fantasy novels to know what that meant. “So… you went and got captured again.”
Titania crossed her arms. “You could have put it more lightly than that.”
“It’s the truth, isn’t it? Though…” I frowned. “How did you get captured? I thought that you all would have been fine after you were healed up.”
Titania’s expression darkened. “…There was an ambush. Not long after we left you, Imperial Soldiers reappeared. While they no longer had Chaos magic… We were outnumbered.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “Looks like karma came to get you then after trying to kill your sister.”
Titania narrowed her eyes, sending me a sharp glare.
I smiled.
After seeing that I wasn’t fazed, Titania sighed. “…It is no wonder why Master Xinxin is so cold and ruthless if you are her Sifu.”
“Cold?” I frowned. “Ruthless? That disciple of mine?”
…I couldn’t see it. That bubbly and puppy-eyed girl… No. That beautiful young woman.
Her? Cold and ruthless?
“…I don’t buy it.”
Titania blinked and then slowly shook her head. “Well, I suppose it is none of my concern if you cannot see it…”
At that time, a waitress came over. A young girl with long black hair and soft eyes, wearing a crimson dress. She carried a tray with some dumplings a small roasted pig, and rice. Off to the side of those dishes, she also had a porcelain teapot with matching cups.
She placed it on the table and then bowed. “Your food, Madam Titania.”
Titania glanced at the waitress and gave her a curt nod. “You’re dismissed.”
She bowed again and then left, but not before giving me a strange look, her eyes flitting back to Titania for a moment.
When the waitress was gone, I stared at Titania and said, “She looked surprised to see me. Not many suitors, I take it?”
Titania laughed, though it was cold. “Many have tried. All I have found wanting. Moreover… Those bothersome men tend to wilt when I mention Master Xinxin’s name.”
“Hm.” I served myself a bit of the dumplings and pork. “Just how did Xinxin become your Master anyway? A beautiful elf like you would have fetched a fortune in the Northern Empire, so how did you end up all the way over here in the Sun Kingdom? What, did you murder some nobles and get considered too unruly to handle there?”
Titania was quiet for a moment before saying, “Your insight is quite keen. But yes. I… had made a deal with our captors. That I would do whatever it took so long as my sister elves were safe. While we could fight, it would mean at least some of us would die. If there was a way to save them… I knew that avoiding a fate of slavery was impossible, but I had hoped they could at least only be placed as maids or servants.”
I scoffed. “And here I thought Aria had been naïve. Looks like that trait runs in the family.”
Titania glared at me. “It was that or suffer the same fate as before. At least this time I had to try.”
“But of course they broke the promise, killed or broke the minds of all your pals, and then came back to tell you after subjecting you to various humiliating things hoping to break the last bit of resistance. Right?”
Titania’s silence answered my question.
I sighed. “…Man. If that person is taking inspiration from Earth, she’s been delving into a lot of eroge, hasn’t she…?”
The development was exactly what I’d expect out of an H-game. Noble elf princess makes a deal to save her companions. They try to break her and then drop the bomb on her about how they went back on their deal.
The problem in this case was that Titania was apparently made of sterner stuff than they thought.
It was actually pretty respectable.
I shook my head and said, “That doesn’t answer how you got here though.”
Titania poured herself a cup of tea. “Is it not obvious? None in the Empire could contain me.” A faint hint of pride crossed her eyes and she said, “While I was captured once, the only reason was due to the disruption those soldiers created from Chaos magic. But they could not do that in their own territory.”
“Mm…”
That made sense. Titania was pretty strong from what I could remember of her stats. Level 100, A ranked combat potential, and a unique ability pioneering a whole new swordsmanship for elves.
“After that, my captors tossed me to some foreign slave merchants who were interested in an ‘exotic product’ for their underground tournament in the Sun Kingdom.” She gave me a wry smile and said, “What better draw then a captured princess from a foreign land and a foreign race?”
“And Xinxin plays into this how? I don’t see my disciple wandering around randomly to explore the underworld… and I highly doubt that One Tin guy would have let her off by herself even if she wanted to.”
Titania shook her head. “I cannot speak for Master Xinxin’s reasoning to join the tournament. However, I can say that she seemed interested more in the prize money than myself.”
“Prize money?”
Titania nodded. “One million Tian.”
I didn’t know how much a million Tian was, but it seemed like a lot. And considering Xinxin’s strength, it must have been easy. Though… “Out of curiosity, what were the rules for the tournament?” I lifted up my tea cup to take another sip.
Titania put a hand on her chin to think and then said, “If I recall correctly… Each participant entered the tournament by betting everything they owned, up to and including their life and body. The arena was under a demonic curse that forced the loser to accept whatever fate the victor decided upon them, be it death, slavery, or anything else.”
I froze.
“…Say that again?”
Titania frowned. “Which part?”
“The last part. Something about a demonic curse?”
“Ah.” Titania nodded. “The loser in the tournament would be bound to give everything of themselves and in their possessions to the victor. From what that masked man mentioned when praising himself in front of me, it was a powerful artifact he found from another world that affected the soul itself to enforce the contract.”
I set my cup down. “That foolish girl.”
Betting her entire life- No, betting her everything on a fight just for some money and an elf? It wasn’t like she would have done it for Titania, since Xinxin didn’t know who the eldest elf princess, Aria, or Saphira was.
“That foolish, stupid, idiotic, naïve girl. What was she thinking? Did she even consider what would happen if she lost? When she’s that beautiful?”
I warned her already. That her beauty would be dangerous. That men, women, and countless others would give anything to have her at their whim. That she would meet a fate worse than death if she got caught or met the wrong person. Yet she willingly walked into such a situation of her own accord?
“It looks like I’ll need to teach her another lesson…”
Another training session was in order to drive the fact that she shouldn’t be so reckless into her head.
While I was fuming, in the corner of my eyes, I saw Titania smile.
I glared at her and said, “What’s so funny?”
She shook her head. “Nothing much. I just find the thought of Master Xinxin being scolded somewhat amusing after all she has done.”
“Hmph. If you say so.”
I downed my cup of tea and poured myself another before starting in on my food. I needed to do something else to stop being annoyed.
That girl… she really would be the death of me at this rate. Here I was thinking it would be bad for me to be at her side, but if she was going to run headlong into suicidal situations, it would probably be safer even considering the chance I went berserk.
Come to think of it, she had always been like that, hadn’t she? Even when we met, she was so eager to die. And she had died, countless times until I managed to force her to live.
My expression dimmed.
It looked like I needed to stick around for a while this time. My disciple was too stupid to realize the value of her own life… And I suppose I did need to repay her for what I did to her. The strength I had flowing through my body now was because of what she gave me.
Time passed by in silence as the two of us ate.
True to her background as a princess, Titania ate with elegant table manners.
I didn’t bother and just ate however I liked.
After a while, Titania set down her silverware and glanced at me.
I glanced back.
Her atmosphere had changed. As if the previous talk was just formality, she stared at me with sharp eyes and said, “Tell me. You… Why are you alive when Aria is dead?”
A flash of a memory. Blood, scattered across the forest clearing. Desire to take every power I could. Wrath, and taking it out on her who didn’t resist.
I shrugged. “What can I say? She was weak.”
“Weak? Is that all you have to say?”
I narrowed my eyes. “And why would that matter to you. Didn’t you hate her enough to try to kill her?”
“You…!”
Titania stood up, an icy gale gathering around her. Before she could do anything though, her collar flashed, sparking with violet lightning. She winced and then sat down, taking deep breaths to calm herself.
I took a sip from my tea.
After a few moments, she narrowed her eyes and said, “Master Xinxin said that you can resurrect my sister. Resurrect Ari.”
“I… could.”
It was probably possible. Using my Absolute Memory, I could recreate images of the ones I met in the past. Their powers, their bodies, their memories… but it wouldn’t be them. Not entirely.
“But why would I? You were the one who killed her. You and whoever that other person was.”
Titania glared at me, but then her glare softened, replaced by confusion. “The other person?”
I nodded. “That’s right. That bastard with Anti-Magic that cut straight through my defenses.”
I was still annoyed by that. Everything was going well up until that point. If I only stuck around a bit more…
Titania tilted her head. “Did… Do you not remember what happened? No, did Master Xinxin not tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“…She was the one who killed you. She was also the one who gave you the talisman and tricked the guards to believe you stole it.”
I froze. “…No. My dear disciple did not tell me such a thing.”
I suddenly felt a bit worried. The knowledge that she did that… concerned me. It sounded more and more like Xinxin wasn’t in a proper frame of mind. She seemed to be obsessing over me, even enough to go back in time to kill the first person I saved. And then me, right after.
…Why did she kill me? Because I wasn’t yet her Sifu?
I frowned. That… was troubling. It seemed like Titania’s casual remark about her not being so innocent was true.
And in that case…
Titania nodded. “Yes. Master Xinxin was the one who brought us all there, saying that we had to kill you.” She paused. “And since you are alive… Are you an immortal as well? One that can return after death through reincarnation?”
I smiled but said nothing.
“Enough about me, Titania.” I took a sip from my tea and said, “Tell me about yourself. We never did get properly acquainted.”
And since I had the chance now, I might as well start gathering my forces. After all, going about it alone last time failed.
“Myself?” Titania frowned. “Why does that matter?”
“It does well to understand your allies and your foes. Besides, I’m curious to learn more about Aria’s older sister.”
Titania flinched at the words ‘older sister’. Still, the pain in her eyes faded a bit and she shook her head. “There is nothing to tell. At least, nothing that matters any more.”
With that, she became quiet and continued eating.
I shrugged and then got up to leave.
Titania frowned. “Finished already?”
I nodded. “If you aren’t going to talk, there’s no point in me staying, right?”
“That…” Titania shook her head. “I…”
“Besides.” I narrowed my eyes. “It seems like I have to have a chat with my disciple now.”
There were things she was hiding from me. While I still felt guilty about what I did to her… I wasn’t one who was willing to just be left in the dark.
I started to walk off… and then I stopped, realizing I had a problem.
“…Do you know where Xinxin might be?”
Titania smiled. “If you wish to know where my Master is… then keep me company.”
“…Yeah, I’ll pass.”
I waved and then walked out.
“Ah! But-“
Along the way, I bumped into a guy with gray hair and red eyes.
He glanced at me and frowned. “You?”
“You’re in my way.”
He flinched and moved.
I headed down the stairs and walked out.
Since Titania wouldn’t lead me, I might as well do some exploring. And maybe deal with some riffraff while I was at it. Being this weak was bothering me.
HappyVainGlory
Hm... Not much to say today. I'm oddly drained for some reason.
Ah. I started up another story for Scribblehub's Anniversary Competition. It's a more light-hearted comedy Isekai that I'll be writing a bit in between working on chapters for this story. That one is completely going to be off the cuff, so take a look if you want to see unadulterated flying by the seats of my pants, figuratively speaking. If you're interested in checking it out, it's called Kami-chan! The Hero Ran Away!
Mm... Other than that, I hope that the chapter was enjoyable and thanks for reading. I'll see you again some time tomorrow!
|
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"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
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"Multiple Timelines",
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"Past Plays a Big Role",
"Personality Changes",
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|
When the surroundings stabilized, Xinxin stood in an open field. But she wasn’t alone.
A platoon of soldiers in black plate mail stood off in the distance and a small army were stationed further back.
One soldier, a man with a stern and scarred face as well as silver hair, approached.
Seeing that, Xinxin narrowed her eyes and started to rouse her powers. She didn’t know exactly what was going on after what happened and she had no intention of taking any risks until she did.
Darkness began to gather around her right hand and she stepped forward to slash-
“Wait a moment, Miss Faith.”
A male voice called out from behind. That Emperor’s.
Xinxin glanced back to see Elio walking over.
Like Xinxin, the Emperor seemed a bit disoriented. But the golden-haired man took a brief look at the surroundings and nodded to himself, quickly regaining his composure. Not only that, but when he looked at the approaching soldier, a flicker of recognition passed through Elio’s eyes.
Seeing that, Xinxin decided to defer for the moment to that guy since he seemed to have an idea of who those people were. She released the gathering darkness and stepped back, letting Elio step pass her.
As she did, and as she looked to where Elio had just been standing, Xinxin noticed two other people brushing themselves off.
The first was a young man with silver hair and crimson eyes. An ordinary looking sword was strapped at his right side, while he wore an outfit that an adventurer would have. A plain gray tunic, leather armor and boots.
The other was a young girl that reminded Xinxin a bit of herself when she was younger. Straight black hair, delicate facial features and jade-like white skin. The only differences were in the girl’s eyes, a deep crimson instead of Xinxin’s own violet, and the sharpness of her facial features, a bit too much to be someone from the Xia Dynasty.
Unlike her brother, Eve was wearing a regal black robe with crimson highlights, demarking her status as the heir apparent.
Nero, the demon and self-proclaimed ‘Dark Knight’ that Xinxin met in the Dark Tournament, and his sister Eve, the current heir-apparent of the Demon Lord and the entire Demon Realm.
But those two had been far away from Xinxin and Elio when time and space were collapsed. How- No, why were they here of all places? Not only that, but where was everyone else?
Before Xinxin could begin to even think about answering those questions, a gruff male voice called out. “Emperor! Our men are in position, as you ordered!”
Xinxin turned back around to see the soldier from before pound his fist against his chest plate and then bow his head.
“We await your signal to begin the advance!”
Xinxin frowned and then shifted her attention to Elio.
The Emperor was confused, but he hid it well. With an unreadable expression, the golden-haired young man nodded and said, “I’ve received your report. At ease, General Hawkins.”
The stern soldier straightened and then glanced over to Xinxin and the others. “Shall I prepare accomodations for your esteemed guests?”
Elio paused and then slowly shook his head. “That will be fine. I will have them remain with me in my personal quarters. For now, instruct the soldiers and the Braves to remain on standby… and also send me a brief dossier on the formations and objectives once again when you have the chance.”
“Understood!” The solder, General Hawkins, saluted the Emperor again and then returned to the rest of the soldiers. When he did, the group dispersed, scattering throughout the plains.
Xinxin walked over to Elio and said, “You adapted quickly for being placed in an unexpected situation.”
“And you are as unflappable as ever, Miss Faith.” Elio nodded and then shifted his gaze past Xinxin. “Though I cannot say the same for those two.”
Nero walked over, a hand placed on his sword. “Hey, Emperor! What’s the big deal?! Weren’t we going to do a peace conference? Why are-?!”
“Calm down, Brother.” Eve yawned and walked over as well. “Can you not see that we are no longer in the Ancient Forest?”
Nero glanced back. “Well… Yeah! But-“
“It seems you two have an idea of what is occurring.” Eve ignored her brother and looked to Elio. “Is this another piece of your agenda, oh Golden Emperor?”
Elio shook his head. “It is not… Though I have an inkling of what occurred.” He turned to Xinxin and said, “You, myself, and the Demon Lord’s heirs… It appears that Goddess has a particular script in store for us.”
Xinxin frowned. “A script, you say…?” She narrowed her eyes and then expanded her spiritual sense to examine the area. But as she did, she noticed something off.
There was an active force suppressing it. No, rather than suppressing it, the force was trying to expel Xinxin and her interference out of not only the world, but the entire timeline.
Xinxin’s eyes widened and she quickly retracted her spiritual sense. But it seemed that her actions had already drawn that force’s attention as she felt it increase in strength and her surroundings start to fade.
“Tch.” Xinxin rotated her cultivation base and forcibly shoved the force away. At the same time, she anchored herself to the world.
Was it because the effort would be too much? The force stabilized and stopped trying to actively expel Xinxin.
Still, she had the sensation that it would start up again the moment she let her guard down and stop anchoring herself to the world. “How annoying,” she muttered.
It was a situation where pure force wouldn’t be enough. At the same time, it didn’t seem like it was Serena’s interference…
A small part of Xinxin wondered if this was her fault in dismissing that woman’s claims back when Xinxin ran off into the forest. Even so-
“…What do you think, Miss Faith?”
Xinxin blinked and then looked to Elio. “Hm?”
Elio shook his head and said, “For now, let’s retire to somewhere more private.” He shifted his gaze in the distance.
Xinxin followed it to see a group of curious teenaged onlookers staring at them. The so-called Braves granted strength by the Goddess.
“…Very well.” Xinxin nodded and said, “Lead the way.”
Once more, Xinxin and Elio sat at around a table in the Emperor’s makeshift tent. It was mostly the same as before but with the addition of a stack of paper shifted off to the side.
Like last time, he poured tea for them both. But unlike last time, there were two others seated there.
Nero took a deep swig from his cup of tea and then slammed it down. “What’s going on? Where’s Eris? Moros? Everyone else? And why are there so many Imperial soldiers?” He jabbed a finger towards Elio and said, “Explain yourself!”
Eve sighed and shook her head, causing her silky black hair to sway. She waved her hand and said, “Ignore this bafoon of a brother that I have. It seems that spending so much time on his own has caused him to develop a rather course demeanor.”
“That’s because I’m not letting you get taken away by this guy again!” Nero pointed at Elio. After that, he turned to Xinxin and said, “And Miss Faith, you can’t trust the guy either! I bet he’s the one who caused that first weird distortion at Alvheim too and got us all teleported!”
“My.” Elio smiled and said, “That is quite the powerful image you have of me in your mind. I can’t tell whether to be amused or honored that you think my abilities extend that far.”
“You-!“
“That’s enough, Nero.” Xinxin spoke up and then glanced over at him. “Zealously protecting your sister after your failure is one thing, but mindlessly lashing out is doing no favors to anyone around.”
Nero froze and then let out a long sigh. “My apologies, Miss Faith.”
Xinxin nodded. “So long as you understand. Now…” She shifted her attention to Elio. “You said you have an idea of what’s going on? No, a ‘script’, you said?”
“That’s right.” Elio nodded and said, “That Goddess is fond of setting up the field like this. Pulling in the important pieces, forcing events to fall into place… Just like back then when I was becoming Emperor. Though to involve you as well…” He frowned. “Has she recovered enough to ignore even a transcendent?”
Nero blinked. “Goddess? When you were becoming Emperor?” He narrowed his eyes and said, “So then you really were behind-!”
“Brother.” Eve snapped at Nero and said, “Just shut up and listen.”
He flinched and then sighed. “Fine.”
Xinxin frowned and contemplated the situation in her head.
The Goddess setting up pieces on the field. Forcing events to fall into place… And then there was her Sifu, who tried to rebel against that ‘destiny’ being put on him.
Not only that, but the fact that this timeline was actively rejecting her presence… and that the connection she had with her Sifu hadn’t been severed, but was faded like a mirage…
“This Goddess.” Xinxin looked over to Elio and said, “Her name is Celeste, you said?”
Elio nodded. “That’s right.”
“Huh?” Nero blinked. “But isn’t-?”
Eve narrowed her eyes. “Brother.”
“Right. I’ll be quiet.” Nero shook his head and stopped talking.
Elio caught the interaction and frowned. “Is there something wrong with that name?”
Xinxin shook her head. “No… But I am beginning to think that the enemy I was opposing might not be the same as yours. Or rather, that I had the wrong one in mind.” She looked to Elio and said, “Do you know anything else about this ‘Celeste’?”
“Of course. The primordial Goddess of the Moon, peerless beauty amidst the starry expanse, the true Divine Being that created all of existence, Celeste.” Elio shook his head and said, “Were it any other person, I would say such titles were exaggeration, but considering her abilities…”
“There is not much room for doubt.” Xinxin’s frown deepened.
From what she remembered both as her Sifu’s Faithful Companion and as his disciple, the person he was fighting against was the Goddess Serena. She had transported him to this world, one that she created, and then forced a ‘destiny’ upon him that he didn’t want.
But with that revelation… Could it be that he was mistaken? That she was mistaken as well?
Multiple timelines, intersecting memories… And events that drew them all to Alvheim.
Not only that, but the focus around Aria…
Eve looked at Elio and said, “I suppose this Goddess is the reason why there are currently two Hearts of Darkness in this world?”
“Hm?” Elio frowned. “Two? But that should be- Ah. I see.” He nodded. “If there are two, then this place is-“
“A different timeline.” Xinxin finished. “I see. So that’s what this Celeste desires.”
Nero blinked and looked at everyone else, shifting his gaze from Elio to Eve, and then to Xinxin. He shook his head and said, “Could… one of you fill me in? You lost me.”
Xinxin glanced at him and said, “A Goddess separate from Serena intervened while we were at Alvheim and disrupted time and space. Then, she plucked us all from the interstice- That is, the gap between both, and drew us here into this parallel timeline.”
Elio nodded. “That sums it up nicely. Moreover… it appears that events have unfolded a bit differently in this timeline. After all, I have no further reason to invade Alvheim and yet here we are with my Imperial soldiers out in full force. Moreover, there appear to be a substantial number of the Brave remaining. At least, more than the amount left after Miss Faith painted my entrance hall in crimson with their blood.”
Xinxin felt a tinge of embarrassment at the pointed remark, but she quickly hid it.
Nero frowned and crossed his arms. “A different timeline, huh? …I don’t really understand what’s going on, but.” He looked to Xinxin and said, “Can’t you just bring us back, Miss Faith? You’re the Heaven Seizer, aren’t you? Couldn’t you just… I don’t know, force time and space to bend to reconnect to our timeline?”
Xinxin slowly nodded. “I could.”
After all, the repulsive force seemed to want her to do just that.
“But… I doubt that you or the other two could survive the journey.” She shifted her gaze to Nero. “Unless you want to test your body’s physique against the void between time and space?”
Nero froze and quickly shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”
Xinxin sighed. “Even if I did that though, time and space had completely collapsed before we arrived.” She furrowed her brows and said, “Even if we returned, it would be to a ruined world.”
She could still recall the faint sensation of the world’s order collapsing before they arrived in this timeline. Just like when the Xia Dynasty was destroyed.
“But then…” Nero frowned. “What do we do?”
Eve sighed, the young black-haired beauty brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It is not ‘what’, but ‘why’ that we should be concerned with, Brother. For us four to be here… This ‘Celeste’ clearly has an agenda she wishes to advance. The question is… should we follow it?”
Elio nodded. “That is indeed the question… From the look of it, the intention appears to be for us to invade Alvheim and presumably retrieve its Heart. At the least, that is what General Hawkins’s report says.” He tapped the pile of papers on the table.
The Heart of Yggdrasil… that was the Sword of Mana and the embodiment of Light’s Order.
Xinxin frowned and said, “I suppose if we removed that, it would be safe to return.”
The repulsive force seemed to be coming from the world itself, a result of the natural order rejecting Xinxin’s presence.
If that was removed, she would have no issue bringing them all safely back to their timeline.
“Great!” Nero stood up and said, “Then we just have to grab that, right? Easy.”
“Easy to fall into that Goddess’s hands, you mean,” Eve said. “Somehow, I doubt that things would end so neatly even as powerful as Miss Faith is.”
Elio slowly nodded. “I agree… Something here isn’t right. But… Is there another option? As much as my soldiers respect me, I hardly believe they will turn back after we are so close to the edge of the Ancient Forest.”
“Well then, we just have to make a quick trip to the Sun Kingdom for reinforcements to bring everyone in order.” Nero glanced at Xinxin. “Right, Miss Faith?”
“I… Don’t think it will be that simple.”
She could sense it now. A familiar sensation in the distance that was simultaneously foreign. A thread of karma that ran parallel to the one she had with her Sifu but that didn’t connect with her.
“At the same time… I don’t think we have a choice.”
Xinxin shifted her gaze to Ancient Forest and the World Tree that towered over it.
A ruined world that lost its order. The Heart of Yggdrasil that could restore it and her Sifu who had gone missing while examining that heart… And then the emergence of this unknown Goddess.
Xinxin didn’t like it. Everything had the sensation of a puppet being pulled along by its strings and her instincts told her that it wouldn’t be enough for her alone.
…Sifu. Wherever- No, whenever you are. Please, hurry up and return. Otherwise, I…
|
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|
Empty halls. A deafening silence filled with the resentment of the dead. Harmony that had been disrupted with chaos, violence, and cruelty. And now, footsteps echoed throughout that silence.
I swept my gaze across the remnants of Yggdrasil... or perhaps more accurately, the remnants of Alvheim.
Was it because of Yggdrasil herself acting, or was it just the natural course of things? Either way, despite everything that had occurred here, there was a distinct lack of bodies. Even so, as I glanced towards Aria, it seemed like that absence was more striking than the bodies would have been.
The youngest elf princess glanced around the area as well. But unlike me, her reaction was much more visceral. Her emerald eyes trembled as they swept across the corroded wood walls. Her delicate face was white with shock and she subconsciously brushed up against my right side, as if seeking support from my presence.
I wasn't cruel enough to brush her off. However, I did turn to her and say, "You should have stayed behind."
Aria tensed and then shook her head. Perhaps realizing her reaction, she deliberately took a step to the side and opened up some space between us. After that, she took a deep breath and softly said, "It's fine."
I came to a stop and stared at her.
Aria stopped as well and met my gaze. Sweat glistened on her forehead, a few drops falling to the ground as I watched.
Seeing that, I frowned and muttered, "Should we head back?"
"No!" Aria quickly shook her head.
My frown deepened. "You protesting so much makes me even more reluctant to advance..." Saying that, I cast my gaze around towards the surroundings again.
For the most part, it was dark. A few places where the corrosion had eaten through to the outside allowed rays of light to filter in, but overall the area was wreathed in shadows.
In short, it was a place where it wouldn't be surprising for the dead to rise up out of nowhere.
Of course, something like that wouldn't happen. The energies in the area, both mana and the ambient natural energy, had been destabilized by the Imperial troops marching through with their chaos-imbued equipment.
Still, paired with the atmosphere, it would be more than enough to cause hallucinations in the weak-willed... Like Aria.
I sighed and then shook my head. "Are you sure you want to come with me? I can guarantee your physical safety, but anything else..."
"It's fine, Mister Nowun. I'll... I can handle it."
I stared at her again, contemplating.
Aria put on a brave face, but her trembling emerald eyes revealed her true emotions. More than that, she kept glancing to the side and flinching, as if seeing something I couldn't. No, as if seeing wandering spirits and recoiling at their appearance.
I was certain that nothing was here. Neither the Goddess's divine intervention nor any other phenomenon was present, and there was no other existence within Yggdrasil save for the heart of the World Tree itself.
That meant that Aria was hallucinating.
Was it nightmares of the present and the faces of those she would never see again? Or were they phantoms of those she no doubt buried in that far-flung future, drawn forth by the distortions in the present?
I didn't know, but whatever the case I couldn't do anything about it.
Well... that wasn't entirely true.
Seeing that she wasn't going to calm down anytime soon and was too stubborn to ask for support, I sighed and walked over towards her.
Aria flinched and opened her mouth to talk. But before she could say anything, I grabbed her left hand with my right and pulled her close.
"M-Mister Nowun?"
I shook my head and started walking, pulling her along beside me. As I did, I said, "Just stay close and be quiet. Nothing here can harm you."
And if there was something that tried... Well, I had been feeling a bit stifled from recovery, so that would be even better.
Aria sighed and then shook her head, muttering, "I wanted to help you..."
"And you can do that by keeping me company, since you so adamantly insisted. Foolishly at that, but women were never known to be creatures of logic."
"Don't let Tani hear you say that around her, Mister Nowun. I don't think she would take too kindly to those words."
"Thus proving my point."
Aria smiled and shook her head.
Once again, the disquieting silence in Alvheim returned. However, whether because of my words or my actions, Aria seemed to be in better shape. At the least, she seemed at ease.
For a while, we simply advanced through the depths of Alvheim, moving deeper within Yggdrasil as I retraced the path towards the heart from my memories.
Still, there was a fair distance to go and there was also considerably less light the further we went.
It didn't bother me considering the nature of my powers, but I wasn't alone. That brought about a minor dilemma.
Should I conjure a light source? On the one hand, it might be comforting for Aria to be able to see. On the other hand... considering the occasional withered bones I could see lying around, it might be better to not.
"Mister Nowun?"
"Hm?"
"...Could you tell me a bit about yourself?"
I came to a stop, considering that fact.
Of course, I failed to take Aria into account with my sudden stop so she lurched ahead, almost falling over.
I managed to pull her back before she did, steadying her.
Aria placed her left hand against her chest and let out a relieved sigh.
"...Sorry. I forgot."
Aria shook her head. "It's fine, Mister Nowun. I should have been prepared for you to stop after asking something like that."
I paused and then said, "...It is a strange line of questioning to ask. What brought it on?"
Aria leaned against me for a bit and then shook her head. "I'm... not sure. It just feels like I know you... and yet I don't."
"Ah." I'd forgotten about it with everything that had been going on, but Aria's memories were probably still a mess from how I brought her back.
"I 'know' what happened between us. How we met. What happened in the end. And I know a bit about what you're like... But I don't truly know anything about you."
"That's... true."
Although it seemed like forever... Aria made a point. She didn't really know anything about me and, conversely, I didn't know anything about her.
Aria nodded. "Funny, isn't it? After all of this and we really only know each other's name." She paused. "Well, you know mine. Mister Nowun... Nowun isn't *really* your name. Is it?"
"Of course not. And we're wasting time." Saying that, I started walking again, pulling Aria along with me.
This time though, she seemed to have expected my response since she quickly matched her stride with my own. After she did, Aria turned to look at me... Well, as best as she could without being able to see in the dark, and said, "Then what is your name, Mister Nowun?"
"It doesn't matter... And stop calling me 'Mister'."
"Then give me a proper name to call you by!" Aria furrowed her brows and said, "Miss Xinxin calls you Sifu... I want to call you something too."
"...We're done talking."
"Ah! Sorry! I didn't mean to offend you. U-Um... How about favorite colors?"
Seeing her try so hard to keep the conversation going, I sighed. "...I'm not offended. It's just that a name is meaningless for me."
Aria blinked. "Why?"
I considered her question.
There was no point in telling her. In fact, there was no point in telling anyone. The past was the past and I had no need of it at this point. And even if I did, it was out of my reach after what happened when I arrived here.
Even so... I suppose it wouldn't hurt to answer her properly.
"Because I don't have one. At least, not one that I can remember."
"You... don't have a name?" Aria frowned. "But that's not right... Everyone has a name."
"Right. Everyone. But I'm 'no one'. In truth..." I held out my left hand, feeling the calm current of dark energy coursing in my veins that filled what I lacked. "...If not for Xinxin, I would be nothing more than a mindless and nameless spirit at the moment."
A debt that I couldn't repay. Karma that wouldn't be broken even if I wanted to break it.
"Well, I guess I have another reason to thank Miss Xinxin then."
I paused and tilted my head towards Aria. "Another reason?"
"That's right. She saved Tani, after all."
"...I don't know if you can call enslaving someone with a soul brand after winning them from an underground tournament 'saving' them."
"W-Well, it's the result that matters, isn't it? Tani's fine and she seems to be enjoying life again."
"I suppose that's one way to look at it."
"...You're too much of a downer, Mister Nowun."
I shook my head. "And you're too optimistic."
Aria was quiet for a bit after that, but then she said, "W-Well are you going to answer my question?"
"Hm?"
"What's your favorite color?"
"...Is this really the time for that?"
Aria huffed. "Well, what else am I supposed to do? It's a long walk still to where you're headed, isn't it?"
"I can always send you back."
Aria pouted.
I sighed. "Fine."
It was true that there was a bit to go by walking.
There was always the option to warp there with my powers, but after the distortion previously, I didn't want to throw too many variables in the mix.
In that case, it wouldn't hurt to answer Aria's questions.
But favorite color, huh?
"Hm..."
A faint impression of a warm memory, a beaming smile. I couldn't remember the contents or the context, but I did remember a flash of a color.
"Pink."
"Eh?"
"My favorite color is pink."
Aria blinked. "That... Really?"
"Did I stutter?"
"No." Aria shook her head. "It's just... Someone like you... has pink as a favorite color?"
"...Is there something wrong with liking pink?"
"No! That is to say... Not really? But... Why?"
I shrugged. "I can't remember."
Aria sighed. "Now you have to be messing with me. Really, do you find it so amusing to bully me? Last time you ran off and left me alone, and now you aren't even answering my questions properly."
"...Well, it's your problem whether to believe me or not."
The path we took came to an end, turning at a sharp corner to descend deeper underground.
I pulled Aria close to ensure she didn't trip and then walked forward.
Aria huffed and opened her mouth to say something. But, before she could continue, a faint green light shimmered in the distance. Seeing that, she blinked and said, "That's...?"
HappyVainGlory
Still easing into things and trying to catch the plot thread again. I know where I want to go, but I'm finding it difficult to drive on that road, so to speak, without tossing out my notes.
Hm... Well, let's see where letting my characters act how they want leads us before I make an executive decision.
Anyway, thanks for reading! I'll catch you again some time tomorrow!
|
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"Amnesia",
"Arranged Marriage",
"Cold Protagonist",
"Corruption",
"Dao Comprehension",
"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
"Enemies Become Allies",
"Fantasy World",
"Fated Lovers",
"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
"Interconnected Storylines",
"Multiple POV",
"Multiple Timelines",
"Multiple Transported Individuals",
"Past Plays a Big Role",
"Personality Changes",
"Skill Assimilation",
"Time Manipulation",
"Transplanted Memories",
"Transported into Another World"
]
}
|
Erik came to a stop in front of Elio and then clasped his hands together for a brief salute. "Greetings, Emperor Elio."
The emperor stopped as well and nodded. "The same to you, Heavenly King." His eyes flitted across the entourage before focusing on Eve. With a faint smile, Elio said, "I see that you are doing well."
Nero immediately stepped in front of his younger sister, blocking the Emperor's view.
Eve rolled her eyes and beauty pushed him to the side. After that, she stepped forward and said, "I would be better if certain people were not so overprotective." She turned to glare at Nero.
The white-haired demon didn't respond, his focus entirely upon the Emperor.
Elio laughed and said, "You have to understand. Older siblings cherish their younger siblings. That holds especially so after the dire events that occurred in your case."
That time, Eris and Moros stepped up, blocking Eve from the Emperor's view.
Eve seemed upset, but she didn't move them like she did her brother.
Elio continued and said, "See? Concern for your safety is a natural course of action."
Nero scoffed and said, "How conscientious of you. In that case, would you care to alleviate my concern by explaining why you worked with the Goddess to kidnap my sister and frame my death?"
A strange emotion flickered on Elio's face and he said, "That... is a complicated question. And one not to be answered in the open."
Titania glared at the Emperor. Under her breath, she muttered, "What a manipulative liar."
I frowned, carefully observing Elio. After a while, I shook my head and said, "I won't deny his manipulative nature... but in this instance at least, he doesn't appear to be lying."
Titania shifted her glare to me. "Of course. Someone like you would know all about that, wouldn't you?"
Aria sighed. "This isn't the place for an argument." She tugged on both my hand and Titania's and said, "Come on. Let's talk things over with Miss Xinxin and see what we should do. Mister Nowun?"
"...Right." I was a bit curious to see what they were talking about, but I was more curious about Xinxin's role in all of this.
Before I could do anything though, a ripple in space swept over us and then the surroundings changed.
A lush, decorated interior with golden leaf and silk tapestries. A space larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. And a table in the center of it, behind which sat my beloved disciple.
Xinxin took a sip from a cup of tea and said, "It's about time you three showed up."
I shook my head and leaned against the side of the compartment. "We would have arrived sooner if the plan was to make a show of force."
Xinxin sighed and said, "We are here to make allies, not enemies, Sifu. And because of that, there are proper procedures we have to follow."
"...True." I nodded and said, "But if things turn out poorly, I'm killing everyone in our way and taking us out of here."
Titania placed her hand on her sword and said, "For once, I agree with you, Nowun." She smiled and said, "I just cannot wait to start cutting down Imperial soldiers."
Aria sighed. "Of all the things you two agree on, it has to be murder. The Empire has done terrible things, but even so..."
Xinxin shook her head. "It won't reach that point." She looked at me and said, "After all, that Emperor seems to have a shared interest in fighting 'that person'."
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow and said, "I assume you mean our resident interloper?"
Xinxin smiled. "Who else?"
Aria blinked and looked between me and Xinxin. "Um... Mister Nowun? I think I'm confused."
Titania frowned. "I am as well... but if Master Xinxin has a plan, I will follow it."
Xinxin nodded. "I do. For now-"
A knock on the outside of the compartment.
I frowned and then concealed my presence along with Aria and Titania.
Xinxin glanced at me and then looked to the silk screen entrance.
"Elder Sister?" Erik's voice called out and said, "Would you kindly grace us with your presence?"
"That's my cue." Xinxin stood up and walked over to the door.
I frowned and said, "Are you sure this is necessary?"
Xinxin rolled her eyes. "Just watch this time, alright, Sifu?"
"...Fine. But we're going to be following right after you in case that guy tries anything funny."
Xinxin shook her head. "I think I liked it better when you were colder..."
"And you were cuter when you weren't so sarcastic."
Xinxin stuck out her tongue at me and then turned around to walk through the silk screen.
I moved to follow, beckoning Aria and Titania after me.
Erik stood outside, watching Xinxin leave. In the distance, Emperor Elio was staring, his eyes evaluating.
I shook my head and let my beloved disciple head off to do her work. In the meanwhile, I turned around to check on Aria and Titania.
The eldest elf princess caught my gaze first and sighed, shaking her head. "I still do not see the point of joining forces with that man. After all that he has done... I cannot understand Master Xinxin. This all seems unnecessary considering her strength." She looked to me and said, "Do you not agree?"
I paused to consider that. "...You know..."
Titania had a point.
I agreed that it was good to have allies, especially if we were doing the long play against the Goddess.
However, there wasn't really a need to have her show up and be so accommodating.
From what I knew, that guy who was betrothed to Xinxin in the past did a lot to build up the reputation of the Sun Kingdom. It was even enough for me to have used it as a deterrent against the Braves in the past.
Framing it like that...
"...You have a point, Titania. This is strange."
She frowned and said, "Do you think that Master Xinxin-"
"Ah!" Aria flinched and clutched her head. She blinked, her eyes wide, and started to sway.
"Ari!" Titania quickly moved to her sister's side and grabbed her.
I narrowed my eyes and then spread my spiritual sense throughout Alvheim.
Soldiers, people from the sect, Xinxin, the demons, the Emperor...
I thought the Goddess might be involved somehow, but that didn't seem to be the case. Since nothing was out of the ordinary, I turned my attention to Aria and said, "What happened, Aria?"
She shook her head and then steadied herself, leaning on her sister for support. "I... don't know. Just... for a moment, I felt like there was something dangerous staring at me. Like... a predator staring at their prey."
Titania narrowed her eyes and stared at the Emperor. "Is it that guy?"
"No," Aria said. "I don't think it was him. It felt... further away?"
A faint premonition. Instinct and intuition from unexpected changes I'd experienced in the past.
Without thinking about it, I pulled Aria close to my right side and grabbed Titania with my left hand.
The eldest elf princess struggled and said, "What are you-!"
Before she could finish, there was a pulse in the air. A ripple of pure mana, accompanied by a silent scream.
Aria winced and grabbed her head.
Titania froze and looked to the tree. "Yggdrasil?"
Suddenly, blinding white light flared, filling the entire Ancient Forest. But it wasn't just light that emerged.
I felt a ripple of distortion. A paradox occurring from 'Order' meeting 'Chaos'.
Time and space began to twist. At the same time, Aria and Titania started to slip away.
I narrowed my eyes.
The cause of the distortion was unclear.
However, I wasn't about to let it spread out unchecked. Focusing on the stored up mana I had in my veins as well as the cultivation base I'd replenished, I reached out to force reality back into place.
But then, just as suddenly as it arrived, the pulse vanished, along with the distortion.
Suddenly, I was standing in a misty forest with Aria held tight against my right side with Titania clinging to my left.
The surroundings had shifted. The burned out hollow of the World Tree was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there were what seemed to be miles of trees, covered in a thin veil of white mist.
It reminded me a lot of the Lost Woods... except that it wasn't.
At that time, it seemed like Titania realized what she was doing since she jumped away from me and quickly took a few steps back.
I rolled my eyes. "You don't need to exaggerate disliking me that much."
"...My apologies." Titania shook her head and then placed her hand on the sword at her left side. "I just... had an odd sense of incongruity and instinctively reacted."
Aria shuddered, clinging tight to my right arm. She looked around the surroundings with wide eyes and said, "Nowun. What... is this place?"
"Give me a moment." I started to reach out with my spiritual sense to take a look around.
But before I could, footsteps echoed from just up ahead, a female silhouette slowly emerging from the mist.
HappyVainGlory
I just realized how many characters with "E" names there are in this chapter. :Sweat: Miscalculations were made...
Anyway, busier than expected. Bit frazzled to have much to say after writing. Hope it was enjoyable, thanks for reading, and see you soon!
|
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"Dao Comprehension",
"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
"Enemies Become Allies",
"Fantasy World",
"Fated Lovers",
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"Multiple Timelines",
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|
Xinxin quickly surrounded the area in her qi, stopping the anguished cry from spreading and alerting anyone as well as silencing the room. That done, she turned towards the source of the cry.
Titania knelt before Aria’s corpse. She shook her head, her hands clawing at her skull as if trying to tear out her very mind.
With a single glance, Xinxin saw why that was.
Killing Aria had severed the last healthy karma bond Titania had left. Although it had been twisted, the light green thread connecting her to Aria had still been one of deep familial love. Like a small raft at sea, it was keeping her afloat amidst the horrid memories and emotions dealt to her at the hands of the Imperial Soldiers.
With it severed, there was nothing left to hold her up. The thin thread pulling her away from hell had shattered, leaving her to fall in.
At that rate, Titania would drown in her memories and break, turning into a doll or a blade.
Xinxin sighed and then walked over.
Titania didn’t notice her. The elf knelt down over Aria, mumbling two words over and over again.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
A pained and anguished plea, bordering on- no, completely reaching insanity.
The black lines of karma choking her… the connections to those that had wronged her and disgraced her. They were growing by the second. At the same time, a faint golden light was starting to shine from within those threads… the Goddess’s involvement.
Xinxin’s eye twitched and she moved on instinct. In a single move, she drew the blade Wang Tian gave her, his Heartfelt Sentiments, and cleaved through the karmic noose.
In an instant, Titania lost all strength in her body and became quiet. She stopped talking, but her body shook, silently sobbing.
Xinxin sheathed her sword. She took a look at Titania’s pitiful form and then said, “I did ask you if this is what you truly wanted.”
Titania shook her head, simply clinging to Aria’s cold body. It looked like Titania didn’t have any intention of moving any time soon.
Considering how distraught Titania was, Xinxin considered leaving her there for a brief moment. And then she remembered the reason why they came and decided against it.
Darkness bubbled up from the floor, slowly enveloping Aria.
Titania froze.
In that brief moment of shock, Xinxin quickly pulled Aria’s body away into her darkness, that chaotic cosmos that her dantian had become. However, she didn’t absorb it.
Despite everything that happened, Xinxin didn’t have any bad feelings towards Aria. If anything, she felt slight sympathy towards her.
Like Xinxin, Aria was played by that Goddess and forced to a miserable end. The only reason why their fates changed was because Nowun… her Sifu intervened.
Granted, he wasn’t very responsible after intervening… but he did care. He was just… terrible at showing it. Mostly because his perspective on time and life was a bit distorted due to his powers.
Because of that, Xinxin preserved Aria’s corpse. When she managed to get her Sifu back… and her Sifu, not Nowun. That was, not the Nowun in the past, at least.
In any case, when her Sifu returned, he should be able to resurrect Aria.
Unfortunately, Titania didn’t seem to realize Xinxin’s intent.
The eldest elf princess immediately stood up, picking up the sword that had fallen to the ground after Aria’s body vanished. Icy wind, glowing blue with Titania’s mana, filled the room and wreathed her blade. She rounded on Xinxin and then stepped forward, swinging her sword. “Give Ari back!”
Xinxin simply stared.
The moment before Titania’s sword reached Xinxin, the elf froze. The moment afterwards, the icy wind died down and she dropped her sword. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as her body convulsed in pain.
Xinxin sighed and picked up the sword, carefully sheathing it back at the elf’s side. “It seems that you forgot your place… though I do not blame you.”
With those words, the convulsions stopped. Titania let out a gasp and started falling, too weak to stand.
Xinxin shook her head and reached out, holding the elf up.
Titania tensed and then lowered her head. “…I’m sorry.”
“So you decided to show your true self at last, Titania?”
The elf shook her head, remaining quiet.
Xinxin let go of her, giving the eldest- no, only elf princess left some time to think.
After a few moments, Titania seemed more composed and looked to Xinxin. “What did you do with Ari’s body?”
“It would be a mess if it was found, so I am holding onto it for now.”
Titania frowned and subtly glanced at Xinxin’s left arm.
“What?” Xinxin raised an eyebrow. “Do you doubt me?”
Titania lowered her gaze. “No, Master.”
“…Don’t worry.” Xinxin patted Titania’s shoulder. “There’s a bit of shared karma between us in the form of my Sifu, so I wouldn’t do something as disrespectful as desecrating her body. Trust me when I say that it is in the best condition you could hope for.”
It was the least that Xinxin could do for the naïve elf princess. While she didn’t like how the Goddess had foisted the elf onto her Sifu, she was a victim in all of this as well. Plus, the elf princess cared about Nowun too. Well… far from as much as Xinxin did, but Aria’s gratitude was sincere.
Titania gave Xinxin a weak smile. The first genuine emotion since they’d met.
Xinxin smiled back and then said, “Come, Nia. We still have work to do.”
Titania closed her eyes for a bit, taking a deep breath, and then nodded, opening them again.
Xinxin noticed that the elf’s cheeks were stained with tears. She sighed and then brushed them off with her sleeves. “If it gives you any solace,” Xinxin said. “I am sure that my Sifu has a way to bring your sister back to life. When I find him, I’ll make sure that he does his best… after all, we have all been victims in this Goddess’s cruel play.”
Titania bowed her head. “Thank you, Master… no. Thanks, Xinxin.”
Xinxin bopped Titania on the head and said, “Enough of that. We are in the middle of a business affair. If you want to act all soppy, that can come when we are safe back at my home. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.” Titania gave a more spirited response, a hint of light shining again in her dark jade eyes. Hope, relief, and appreciation.
“Good enough.” Xinxin turned around and retracted her qi that had been blocking sound from escaping the room. After that, she started walking back towards the throne room.
Titania followed, still silent, but somehow carrying a softer air about her.
Halfway to the throne room, Xinxin suddenly remembered that she should find out where that demon princess was and then spread out her spiritual sense.
When she did, there were a few things she immediately noticed.
First of all, the faint golden threads over the city had vanished. Possibly because her Sifu was no longer in that time and place.
Second of all, those three demons apparently took her words of ‘not holding back their hostility’ to mean ‘attack the Emperor’. They were clashing, exchanging blows back and forth in the throne room… and losing at that while the Emperor was holding back.
Xinxin sighed and ignored them, focusing instead on what was below the Imperial Palace.
Prisons, storage rooms, disgusting hidden chambers that were better left undescribed… and then a single room at the lowest point of the palace within a labyrinth of winding hallways.
There, Xinxin could see a young girl.
Pure black hair and crimson eyes. The features were similar to those that Xinxin was familiar with, like a young girl from the Xia Dynasty. Yet, her facial features were clearly foreign, a bit too sharp on her cheeks, less rounded eyes… she was still beautiful, a fact that Xinxin could say with certainty. In fact, Xinxin would go as far as to say that her beauty was on par with her own… and considering that the Goddess went out of her way to take Xinxin’s soul, that was telling.
Still, while the young girl was beautiful enough to garner the envy of that Goddess enough to send out Apostles to capture her… surprisingly, she wasn’t in a terrible condition.
The young girl… or rather, the young demon princess looked healthy and well-dressed, wearing a soft pink blouse and skirt. She was neither in distress nor mentally unsound and in fact looked fairly happy, if not a bit bored, reading a book.
Also, while she had been captured, the room she was in wasn’t a jail cell. Instead, while deep underground, it was well-lit with crystal lanterns and had colorful walls. A fluffy bed, a basket of fruits, and even a full wardrobe were there for the princess’s perusal.
Xinxin retracted her spiritual sense after memorizing the most efficient path towards the princess and then muttered, “Odd.”
Titania looked towards Xinxin. “What is it, Master?”
Xinxin shook her head. “Nothing important.”
It was none of her business. She would let the demons decide on their own after imparting them with the map.
The master and servant pair reached the golden doors leading to the throne room yet again. Strangely though, while Xinxin saw the demons fighting against the Emperor, it was quiet.
When Xinxin opened the door, she found out why.
Nero, Eris, and Moros had been knocked to the ground as well as knocked unconscious.
Titania noticed and reached for her sword.
Xinxin stopped her.
Titania glanced at her master and then lowered her hand.
Xinxin walked forward and said, “You seem like you had quite a bit of fun.” At the same time, she sent a bit of darkness to each of the demons to heal them and wake them up, though making sure to disguise it.
The Emperor, Elio, smiled. “I could not just leave your servants idle, could I? Besides, a bit of entertainment is always welcome.”
Moros recovered first. He groaned and then pushed himself up. After that, he noticed Xinxin and walked over. When he was close enough, he whispered, “Be careful. That guy’s power is weird.”
Eris got up next. Seeing Xinxin, she also walked over. And like Moros, she offered a bit of advice. “Heaven Seizer. Despite our efforts, we couldn’t connect a single attack. As powerful as you are, be wary.”
Nero got up too… but seeing his teachers already awake and by Xinxin’s side, he simply walked over and joined their ranks.
Seeing how the demon’s were acting, Xinxin raised an eyebrow. “It seems like it was more than just a bit of entertainment.”
Elio shrugged. “I must admit, I was a bit frustrated at having to clean up the mess on the stairs. I am quite fond of that carpet, you see.”
Xinxin scoffed. “Then do not allow immature children to be in your forces. Or at the least, discipline them first.”
Elio nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now… If I recall correctly, there was something that you wished to discuss?”
“Yes. But first…” She made a blade from her qi. A simply and quickly formed sword. After that, she picked it up, holding it in her left hand.
Elio’s eyes widened and then he also made a blade, forming one of pure white light.
“Hm.” As Xinxin watched Elio, she said, “So Wang Tian did teach you some things.”
The way Elio made the sword was similar to qi… no, it could be said to be imitating qi using mana.
The cultivation in the Sun Kingdom converted mana into qi through various techniques, or drew in the scant natural energy in the air that wasn’t tainted by the Goddess’s divinity.
Yet, Elio was using mana directly. Cultivation but not cultivation… no. A new ‘path’.
“If Wang Tian is the Heavenly King,” Elio said. “Then yes. He imparted a few pointers to me when we last met.”
“Mi-Master.” Nero looked at Xinxin. “He’s…”
Xinxin shook her head. “You three go ahead and deal with the other matter. I will finish things here and come get you.”
Silently, she sent them a message with her spiritual sense and burned the map into their minds.
Eris and Moros winced, managing to hide the most of it. Nero, however, visibly flinched.
Elio raised an eyebrow. “Quite a harsh master you are, Great Heaven Seizer.”
Xinxin shrugged.
Titania stepped up, keeping an eye on the Emperor, and said, “Do you wish for me to help, Master?”
Xinxin shook her head. “Go with the others. They need your help more than I do.”
“Understood.”
And then it was just Xinxin and the Emperor.
Elio stared at Xinxin and carefully said, “I hope you do not plan on assassinating me. Even if you do control the Sun Kingdom, my death will not come without cost.”
“We shall see if you are qualified to make those threats.”
Xinxin stepped forward and swung her sword.
HappyVainGlory
So Xfinity keeps saying Scribblehub has an invalid certificate and blocking me from updating. I’m currently posting this using my phone as a hotspot. Hopefully that fixes itself… It was working fine yesterday.
Anyway, hope the chapter was enjoyable!
I'll see you soon! Thanks for reading and leaving comments. Also hello to any new readers who got this far. I appreciate all of you a great deal.
|
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|
“…And I still can’t find her, huh?”
A man wreathed in darkness muttered as he gazed out at the endless emerald forest below him from the highest branch on Yggdrasil.
Aria had been missing for a few hours now, vanishing without a word. Granted, she had done that a lot recently, but she always made sure to say that she was going out first. Today though…
The man now known as Demon Lord Nazin, Protector of Yggdrasil, frowned and then let out a deep sigh.
It had been a month since the Imperial Troops attempted to invade Alvheim and seize Yggdrasil.
It had also been a month since Nazin had officially risen to his position and sided with the elves, along with start his easy-going other world fantasy life.
Titania, Aria, and Saphira.
After that unforgettable night, Nazin had started living with the three girls in his home at Yggdrasil, swearing to make them as happy as he could. It was… difficult to manage the relationships at time, but it seemed to have worked out, somehow.
There was only one problem left… And one that was also related with Aria.
“There’s still that guy to deal with.” Nazin muttered and stared up at the sky.
A clear blue expanse, with only a few stray clouds passing by. As expected, there was nothing there. No one there.
But Nazin didn’t let down his guard
The Nameless One. The person who took that title away and distorted his memories as well as both time and space for some unfathomable reason. The same person who ruthlessly dismantled Aria and devoured her existence for the sake of power.
Nazin could feel it. That guy… he wouldn’t be satisfied just evading Serena’s gaze. No, he wouldn’t stop until he became powerful enough to surpass her.
And in order to do that, he needed to return to this time, this space.
After all… Nazin still possessed the other half of that guy’s strength.
A tremor of fear.
Nazin placed his hand over his heart and then recalled that night.
It was by chance. On that night, he felt like getting some fresh air after spending a long time with the girls. Then, like now, he casually stared at the sky.
And something stared back.
Unfathomable darkness and malice.
It was restrained, but since they were connected, Nazin could sense it.
The Nameless One, the ‘true’ self that enacted an unthinkable plan to obtain power beyond Serena’s reach, had stared into the world.
Nazin shuddered when he remembered it.
Serena occasionally peeked in, no doubt finding amusement in the slice of life comedy that had become Nazin’s daily routine. When she did, her gaze, although irritatingly intrusive, was gentle and calm.
The same couldn’t be said for that guy.
An apathetic gaze that observed everything as if it were worthless. A strong, unconscious bloodlust and hunger that could only have come from killing countless people, innocent or not.
It was a sickening existence, one that Nazin refused to acknowledge.
…Even so, it was a terrifying existence.
A self-made demon. One who had the resolve and power to sacrifice everything in order to attain his ambitions. That was who the Nameless One was… who ‘Nowun’ was.
And that was also a possibility for himself.
After all, ‘Nazin’ and ‘Nowun’ had the same start.
Ba-dump.
Nazin felt the soft warmth from his heart and shook his head. “No. That won’t happen.”
A person capable of such ruthlessness. ‘No one’ could do that. And so he had become ‘no one’ in order to do so. A nameless ghost that went against the natural order and the entire world. A demon that was bound to result in everything’s destruction.
Although undeniably a Demon Lord, Nazin was not ‘no one’. Not now, and not ever again.
Power… That guy did it all for the sake of power. The power to surpass Serena, the power to not fear anything in the world.
“…But what’s the point of that power if you end up alone?”
That was the conclusion that Nazin reached.
The Nameless One and he had arrived at different ends, taken different paths.
And so, while that guy was undoubtedly strong… horrifyingly so, Nazin refused to give up.
After all… unlike that guy, he had something to protect.
“Is that so?” A soft and delicate voice echoed from behind.
Nazin froze and then sighed before turning around. “I thought you said that you’d stop reading my mind, Serena.”
An out of place female Japanese high school student sat atop a branch, idly swinging her legs. Hearing Nazin’s words, she smiled and then jumped off… or so it appeared. The moment she did, she vanished and reemerged directly beside Nazin.
The Demon Lord sighed. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”
“Sorry, sorry.” Serena waved her hand and said, “I just can’t help it. You’re too fun to tease.”
“Right. And you stick out as always.”
It was definitely an odd sight. They were in the middle of a completely fantasy setting, standing atop a tree higher than any building on Earth, and yet Serena was standing there with an ordinary white sailor shirt and pleated skirt.
Nazin shook his head and said, “Couldn’t you pick something more fitting? Or do you like cosplaying as a high school girl that much?”
Serena grinned. “What if I do? Are you planning to add me to your group of girls too?”
Nazin flushed but then recovered his composure and said, “As if. That’s a recipe for disaster.”
Serena laughed. “Yeah, I think it would be. I don’t think your precious princess would take kindly to me being around.”
Nazin blinked. “Which one?”
“Well, wouldn’t you like to know?”
Nazin rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the surroundings. “If you’re just here to waste time, would you mind being quiet? I’m trying to make plans to sort out the mess you tossed me into.”
“Me?” Serena shook her head. “I haven’t done anything. Well, I guess I did set the stage and help that Emperor summon some kids over, but I’m not the one who made him want to abduct and kill the elves you know?”
Nazin swept his gaze across the horizon and said, “Whatever you say, useless goddess.”
“Hey! I’m much better than that water girl!”
“Aqua… but whatever makes you sleep better at night.”
Serena huffed and stuck her tongue out.
Nazin ignored her and focused his gaze on the Northern Empire’s territory.
Although he couldn’t physically peer into the city, with his powers, he didn’t need to.
“Analyze.”
[Scanning…]
[Imperial Forces mobilizing. Estimated time of arrival: 1 month.]
“A month, huh?”
It would be a bit of a time crunch, but it shouldn’t be too difficult.
Nazin already got rid of most of the Braves the last time, and he doubted that Emperor had the resources to summon more. As for the soldiers, well he was far and above what any adventurer could hope to achieve, so it should end fine.
“You know, things are going to end poorly if you take the humans that lightly, ‘Demon Lord’.”
Nazin glanced over and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on intervening?”
“Oh no.” Serena waved her hands and said, “This is the path that you chose. I’m just going to sit down on the sidelines and cheer you on.”
“Good.” Nazin turned back and said, “Stay that way.”
Serena draped her arm around Nazin’s shoulder and said, “I’m just saying, you’re going to be in for quite the shock if you think that you’re fine as you are.”
Nazin shrugged Serena off and frowned. “And why’s that?”
Serena stepped back and said, “As strong as you and your dragon are, the Emperor’s not someone you can dismiss. After all, he forcibly united the scattered human kingdoms in the span of a few years… And before he was even a teenager at that!”
Nazin frowned. “…But shouldn’t I be the strongest in the world?”
[Legend] granted unrivaled strength and speed and Saphira was one of those ancient beings of catastrophe that had been sealed away.
Even with all of that… Nazin should be cautious of the Emperor?
Serena crossed her arms behind her back and started pacing. “Oh you definitely are. In this world, you are, without a doubt, the absolute. In sheer stats, you can beat anybody up, even the real Demon Lord fuming down south.”
Nazin blinked. “…Then there’s no problem, right?”
Serena stared at Nazin a bit and then muttered, “So you really are different, huh?”
“What?”
Serena shook her head. “It’s nothing! Just thinking to myself a bit. Anyway, it’s true that you’re the strongest, but that doesn’t mean you can be everywhere at once, does it?” She paused, “Well, maybe you can figure something out with that ridiculous power of yours, but it’s not like it’s infallible, you know?”
Nazin narrowed his eyes. “Just what are you playing at?”
“Nothing!” Serena smiled and said, “I genuinely want to help you, you know? After all, you’re doing your best to keep this world in order… and you’re on the side of my darling elves. How could I even think about harming you?”
“Right… Says the same person who would have let those ‘darling elves’ suffer the worst fate possible if I didn’t show up.”
Serena shrugged. “Well, a bit of tough love never hurt anyone, right? Turmoil breeds strength… You’re living proof of that, aren’t you?” She laughed and said, “Though, you really pulled a fast one with your choice of power.”
Nazin waved her off. “Yeah, yeah. Just go back to watching on that couch of yours, you useless goddess. Some of us actually have work to do.”
Serena laughed. “And that’s what I like about you, Mister ‘Nazin’. So honest and predictable… It’s refreshing.”
Nazin bristled at that and turned around to argue. When he did though, nobody was there.
Don’t slack on your training now, Mister Demon Lord! And don’t forget that time travel has its consequences!
“…As annoying as ever.” Nazin shook his head and stared back at the Northern Empire. After a few moments of thought, he muttered, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more careful. Didn’t Titania say she wanted to go over some battle plans?”
With that thought in mind, Demon Lord Nazin walked off into a portal of darkness, emerging somewhere else.
The moment he did, a soft light appeared where the goddess had left, followed by the appearance of a woman wearing a pure white gown.
If Nazin were still around, he would immediately recognize her. At the same time, he would be confused.
The mysterious woman let out a dark grin and then muttered, “Just as planned. Now all I have to do is let those two play against each other and bide my time…”
A wicked cackle echoed through the air. When it died down, the woman had vanished, leaving everything as it was when Nazin left.
HappyVainGlory
And we're finally back to our Demon Lord! It'll probably be a bit more light-hearted adventure for a while before we head back to our other Nameless protagonist and start tying up loose threads to fit the pieces of the puzzle all together. Hopefully I pull off the major twist I've got in mind right... but there's still quite a while til then.
Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter will be on Thursday, August 13th!
|
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"Multiple Timelines",
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"Past Plays a Big Role",
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|
"...The heart of Yggdrasil?" Aria said.
I didn't answer her. Instead, I released her and walked forward alone, slowly taking in the surroundings as I did.
Faint motes of green light flitted in and out of existence, drifting about the area. That was what provided the flickering illumination, emanating from the heart of Yggdrasil.
My right hand twitched and a strange feeling welled up inside me as I advanced. Was it nostalgia? Bitterness? Melancholy?
The last two times that I had been here, I had lost someone. First, Aria due to my own carelessness. Second, my Faithful Companion out of my stubbornness.
"It's beautiful." Aria whispered and walked up as well, standing beside me.
I shifted my gaze towards her and then shook my head. "Beautiful... Perhaps. But it's also dangerous."
Potential dangers. Hidden disasters. So that this wouldn't become a repeat of the last times I was in this place, I carefully surveyed the area to the best of my ability.
It looked the same as the previous time I was here after I lost my mind saving Aria as a nameless spirit.
The room was a small cavern, circular and made of interwoven roots. With the fading motes of light, there was an ethereal atmosphere. As if this was a place that couldn't exist. An illusion.
In the center of it all, and the source of the glowing motes of light, was the Heart of Yggdrasil. On a casual glance, it seemed to just be a floating orb of pure green light, held within roots emanating from beneath it. However, beneath that illumination was a sword.
A simple and elegant blade. A golden hilt and cross guard with an emerald pommel.
...Was it different than the last time I saw it? Or was I just incapable of perceiving its true form? Either way, the Sword of Mana, as that Brave called it in the future, was suspended there within the light.
And that was it.
I frowned.
...That was strange. While I could sense 'Order' emanating from the sword and the World Tree's Authority, that was all. But from what I could remember, there should be the spirit of the World Tree itself present here. That was the resistance I faced the last time I attempted to take the Sword of Mana.
But there was nothing. The power remained, but the mind, the World Tree's ego, was missing.
Was it a result of my actions in that past timeline? Did it already perish as a result of the Imperial invasion?
Or was this a ploy by the Goddess?
I didn't sense her gaze... but then, I hadn't since the time that I brought back Aria. It was almost as if she had forgotten about me.
But I didn't believe it. When considering everything that had occurred since Xinxin brought me back and what I had done since then, there should have been plenty of entertainment for that Goddess.
So her absence and complete lack of communication was... odd.
"Ah."
A half-mumbled sound.
I glanced over to see Aria walking closer to the light.
Her eyes were half-lidded, dazed. Almost as if entranced.
My eyes widened and I quickly intercepted her, intending to pull her away and leave. But before I could, she came to a stop and shook her head.
I still moved in front of her, blocking her view of the light. But seeing that she wasn't completely dazed, I didn't grab her. Instead, I carefully observed Aria's face and said, "Are you alright?"
She looked at me and then said, "Sorry, Mister... Nowun." She winced and then placed a hand over her chest. "I just... remembered a few things."
I blinked and then realized what she was talking about. "Right... I suppose you would have a reaction with this place."
The composite memories of her existence and the tangled karmic threads... They ordinarily wouldn't make much of an impact. But considering that this was where she 'first' met her end, or rather the 'first' of her deaths I experienced, it was undoubtedly more impactful than other instances.
I stared at Aria for a bit and then said, "...Should we head back?"
"Hm?" Aria blinked and then said, "Head back?"
I nodded. "I had planned on taking that." I gestured towards Yggdrasil's heart and said, "But I have a feeling that it wouldn't end well."
Something was off. Not only that, but the urge I had to come here had vanished and that 'resonance' I felt was gone as well.
Aria nodded. "Yes. That... I believe that would be for the best."
"Then let's not waste any more time here." I grabbed Aria's arm and focused, recalling the area where we left Xinxin and that Emperor Elio guy.
But before I warped us back, a thought came to mind. Something I forgot until now.
I turned to Aria and said, "Hey."
She blinked. "Yes, Mister Nowun?"
"Why did you insist on coming here with me? Did you sense something wrong? Was it the effect of your memories wanting you to revisit this place?"
"That..." Aria frowned and shook her head. "No. It wasn't that." She shifted her gaze back to Yggdrasil's heart and said, "I just felt that... something. Something would happen if you arrived here by yourself."
"Something?"
Aria nodded.
"...And you being here stops that something from happening?"
Aria paused. "No. But at the least you wouldn't-"
A pulse.
My eyes widened and I quickly spun around.
There it was. The 'resonance' I felt. The thing tugging at 'something' inside of me.
The Sword of Mana was suspended in the light... but it was moving. No, it was trying to move. But that light kept it in place, the 'Order' preventing the anchor sustaining it from moving on its own accord.
Staring at it, I frowned and muttered, "Does it remember too?"
The lost future where it cut me down. The severed past where I forced it to acquiesce. It seemed like those memories were being drawn out and etched into the Sword of Mana's accumulated history.
I didn't think that the sword had an ego, but it seemed to have at least a vague sense of awareness-
...Awareness?
I blinked and then a thought came to mind.
The distortions occurring in the area. The fact that it was drawing memories out from me...
The resonance.
I stepped forward and held out my right hand, muttering, "Faithful companion?"
It was unlikely. The one that had been at my side the longest was destroyed in letting me obtain the Sword of Mana.
But.
But due to my powers, due to the karma between us, maybe...?
I held out my left hand and revolved my cultivation base. At the same time, I shaped my mana back into the form of Dragon's Grasp and clenched.
In an instant, the light surrounding the sword vanished, forcibly compressed within it. In the same instant, the roots surrounding that light crumbled into dust, leaving only the sword suspended in the air.
As if it had been expecting that, and as if recognizing its master, the Sword of Mana drifted towards my outstretched left hand.
But, just before I could grab it-
"No! You mustn't!"
-Aria jumped in front of me and knocked the sword down.
A surge of emotions. Anger. Fury. What right did she have to keep me from what was rightfully mine?
...Is what first came to mind. But immediately after, my eyes widened and I took a step back.
It was like a fog had lifted- No. Like the background static that had blended into my senses as silence was suddenly shut off, letting me hear things properly again.
I shook my head and then let out a deep sigh. "To think that I could get tricked like that... It seems like I got conceited again."
I would have thought recent events would have kept me in check, but it seemed like I had changed less than I thought.
I sighed again and turned towards Aria. "Thanks for that, Aria. Without you, I don't know what-"
My words stopped in my throat.
Aria was standing there. She was standing there, just a few paces away from me. The same appearance as always... The same way she was just a few seconds ago. The difference was that she was holding the Sword of Mana in her hands, idly gazing at her reflection in the blade and...
"You aren't Aria."
...That something had poured into the gap of her soul.
HappyVainGlory
...I sure hope this wasn't too cliched. Welp, either way it's already happened, so onward we go, haha...
I'm starting to get back into the flow of things, but it's still a bit difficult. It is a welcome distraction from everything else happening though, so there is that.
Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope that this was enjoyable, and if not, at least a welcome distract to you as well.
I'll see you tomorrow, and if not then, the day after for sure!
|
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|
It was a bloody tale, so I didn't go into too much detail for Xinxin. Instead, I gave her a brief summary.
Back then, I had returned to the Zhan Clan to finish things off, both to settle Xinxin's situation and do what I could to improve my cultivation.
But after making my way through the front gates, it was clear that something else was going on.
Even without me going out of my way to drain their cultivation, the people in the Zhan Clan were dying, having their life force taken away.
And the source of that person... was Xinxin's father.
I didn't know why, but he had activated a formation in a desperate bid to ascend to immortality by sacrificing the entire Zhan bloodline.
There were some parts involved about reawakening the True Wood Physique and using it to charge through the Door of Immortality... but it was a plan doomed to failure.
After all, that Goddess wouldn't just sit there and allow such an easy loophole.
Divine retribution fell upon the clan. At first, just tribulation lightning. But as time went on and the formation reached out, angels appeared and started hunting people down.
I took care of them of course. It'd be dumb not to take what was presented to me, and the angels were a great source of energy.
Some other things happened, the angels vanished... and then both Wang Tian and Xinxin showed up.
"...And as for attacking you. Well, I wasn't about to let you die after I went out of my way to keep you safe. So, to trick everybody that might have been watching, I ripped out your heart since I knew you would live and then let that One Tin guy take care of the rest."
"It's Wang Tian."
I nodded. "That's what I said."
Xinxin rolled her eyes and then went quiet, swirling her cup of tea again.
I frowned. "...Are you mad?"
It was a reasonable response.
The point of me returning to the Zhan Clan had been to wipe them out after all... mostly for selfish reasons. The fact that it was already on the verge of destruction when I arrived didn't change my intent.
Xinxin shook her head. "No. I already knew Sifu was a bad person, so that doesn't surprise me."
"...I won't disagree with that."
A person that had taken millions of lives, disregarding whether they were innocent or guilty definitely couldn't be called a good person.
I knew that. Didn't mean that being called that by my beloved disciple didn't sting a bit though.
"It's just... It seems that Goddess has a lot to answer for, doesn't she?"
I nodded. "That's right."
Goddess Serena of Asifant. The one in charge of the current world that was a mix mash of Isekai and Xianxia, that meddlesome woman who tugged at people's fates and allowed tragedy to unfold-
"She's insane. Enough that at times she seems to be two different people." I stared at Xinxin and said, "You especially need to be on your guard."
"Me, Sifu?"
"That's right." I frowned and said, "I'm not too sure what her aspect for being a Goddess is, but she was definitely an indescribable beauty. And since you're as beautiful as you are, she might be jealous. Paired with the fact that you're strong enough to wound and potentially kill her, that Goddess might just try to play some tricks and neutralize you."
Xinxin flinched.
I blinked and then narrowed my eyes. "Xinxin-"
"Elder Sister! Elder Brother!" Erik's voice echoed from the distance.
I glanced towards him to see that guy walking over with his girls trailing after him.
He waved at me and said, "It is time to depart for the conference!"
I glanced back at Xinxin.
She met my gaze and quickly stood up. "W-Well, it seems that we have to get going, Sifu."
"Xinxin. Did that person-"
"I'll keep an eye out. But we have to get going now. It'd be bad if we showed up to the important conference late, wouldn't it?"
I stared at her.
Xinxin stared back.
"...Fine." I finished my tea and stood up. "Let's go."
Rushing wind. A blur of green as the surroundings flew past below and a clear blue sky everywhere else.
Like that, I along with the others headed towards the Ancient Forest in a caravan of fancy wagons enchanted to fly through the air.
Some fancy formations were laid out on the structure of the wagon to deal with the physics of something completely un-aerodynamic traveling at Mach speed.
It wasn't that important for someone like me, especially now that I had recovered most of my wounds and powers, but for other people, I could see how it would be a problem.
The interior of the wagon was fairly straightforward. Although fancy on the outside, it was essentially a giant cube. Some lush silk-cushioned seats lined three of the walls while the third was the door. There were glass windows on each side to show the passing scenery, but the ones on the walls that I wasn't sitting at were covered in silk drapes.
All-in-all, a plush and comfortable compartment if I was alone, and even though I wasn't, still roomy enough to not feel claustrophobic.
An awkward atmosphere was filling the compartment, but I decided to ignore it for the moment and look out my window.
In front of this magical flying caravan, there was a grand palanquin adorned with gold leaf, silk curtains, precious jade, and other impractical precious materials.
For each yoke, there was a disciple on a flying sword carrying it on their back.
As for the important person that they were escorting, it was none other than my dear disciple.
Apparently, the plan was to have Xinxin arrive with the grandeur and mystique that someone called the Heaven Seizer was supposed to possess. As a result, they had dressed up a fancy box, sent out their top four disciples, and even attached an imposing banner with the characters 'Heaven' and 'Grasp' written on it.
From my perspective, I had to grudgingly admit that it was pretty well executed.
The palanquin's windows were covered in thin drapes that hid Xinxin's features but showed her lovely silhouette.
It was enough that anybody would be curious about the person hidden inside.
Of course, I would have preferred just showing up with Xinxin in a dramatic fashion and letting loose my killing intent, but that plan had been vetoed by my beloved disciple, her sword maid (Titania), her secretary (Erik), Aria, and pretty much everyone involved.
So here I was instead, sitting in a flying wagon with Aria to my right, Titania to my left, and the resident demons of the Heaven-Seizing Dragon Sect across from me.
Titania sighed and brushed a strand of her hair out from her face. Glancing at me, she said, "Care to remind me again why I must ride in a wagon with you of all people?"
I leaned back in my chair and shrugged. "Blame my beloved disciple's secretary."
Titania frowned. "She has no- Ah. You mean Erik."
I nodded. "That's right. If I had my way I'd meet you all there, but..."
Again, another idea vetoed.
Apparently, Xinxin was afraid I'd get into something troublesome if I went by myself.
Considering everything that had happened before, I was inclined to believe her, so I decided to go with the flow for once.
Titania nodded and then looked to our fellow passengers.
I followed her gaze.
Nero and his younger sister Eve, the troublesome girl I ran across while out in the sect, were seated directly across from us. To the seats on their right, our left, were Eris and Moros, the Ruby and Cobalt Archfiends of the Demon Realm.
I frowned.
It was an intelligent decision. After all, other than Xinxin, I was the strongest person in our travel group.
Considering Titania and Aria being the remaining members of Alvheim's royal family as well as the demons being party to whatever scheme the Goddess was planning, I was the best person to keep around in order to ensure everyone's safety.
It was annoying.
However, it was necessary. So I'd just have to deal with it.
Titania shook her head and then leaned against the side of the wagon, closing her eyes.
Seeing her sister do that, Aria looked at me and then leaned against my side, closing her eyes as well.
We had only just set off a few minutes ago, so we still had at least an hour to go before we had to get off.
Titania and Aria might be content to sleep, but I didn't have that luxury.
Eris, the crimson haired demoness, glanced at me and then at Aria, a puzzled look on her face. It was clear that she was curious, but at the same time, she had enough tact to keep that curiosity to herself.
I appreciated that. However-
"You got stronger."
...Someone else didn't have that tact.
Eve stared at me, her crimson eyes sharp, as if trying to analyze my secrets.
"If that's what you think, I won't correct you." I leaned forward and said, "As for you... Have you learned your lesson about not causing trouble for people since the last time we met?"
"If you mean whether I was trapped in a building with nothing to do but train and listen to my aunt and uncle patronize me, then yes."
Nero cut in and said, "That was for your own good, Eve. If something happened to you-"
"It would cause an unprecedented continental disaster." Eve rolled her eyes and said, "I'm well aware, Brother."
"...As long as you are." Nero looked to me and bowed his head. "And apologies for my sister again, Miss Faith's Sifu."
I nodded. "It's fine. Little girls like her always get wrapped up in trouble anyway."
"A little girl!?" Eve bristled and said, "I am not-!"
Eris waved her hand. "That's enough out of you for now, Missy."
Mana rippled and then wrapped around Eve's mouth. The young demoness glared at Eris and opened her mouth to talk. But despite her lips moving, no words came out. Realizing that, Eve pouted and crossed her arms, sitting back in her chair.
I shook my head, silently thankful that Xinxin never acted that petulant and that I didn't have any younger siblings.
Eris looked over to me and said, "She's still learning proper etiquette."
"I can see that."
Eve glared at me.
I raised an eyebrow and sent a bit of killing intent her way.
The young demoness flinched and quickly averted her gaze.
I sighed. This was going to be a long plane... or rather, wagon ride.
Eris bowed her head and said, "Thank you for understanding, Miss Faith's Sifu."
I paused and glanced over at her. "You all keep calling me that... but who's Miss Faith?"
"Hm?" Nero tilted his head and said, "She's your disciple, the Heaven Seizer." He paused, a bit of sweat starting to show on his forehead. "...Don't tell me I've gotten it wrong this whole time?"
I thought that over a bit.
Faith... If Xinxin's name was written out in characters, it was definitely possible to read it as faith.
I hadn't realized it, but that was definitely a strange coincidence. Did her parents anticipate the hard future she would face? Or maybe that Goddess thought it'd be amusing to turn that name into cruel irony...
"U-Um. Miss Faith's Sifu, sir?"
I looked up to see Nero panicking.
The white-haired young man was paler than usual and glancing to his side at Eris. As for her, the crimson haired demoness was lightly tapping her forearm.
At that rate, it seemed to me that Eve wasn't the only one who would be having remedial lessons in etiquette so I decided to correct the misunderstanding. "No, you have it right. It's just odd to hear since I never call her that."
Nero let out a sigh of relief. "That's good."
At that time, Moros spoke up. The blue-haired older demon leaned in and said, "Speaking of names... I hope you do not mind, but is there a proper way to address you, Sir?"
Eris nodded and said, "Yes. I would hate for us to slight you during the conference due to our ignorance."
"A name..." I paused and considered it. "Well, the name I gave myself when appearing in this world was 'Nowun', so that's as fine as any."
A name that wasn't a name.
Just like how I had become a person that wasn't a person.
Eris blinked and said, "No one?"
I nodded. "I threw my past and identity away, so names aren't that important. It's fine to just call me that if you want to address me. Well, as long as you don't plan to fight."
Moros let out a bitter laugh. "Considering how well that turned out for us the last time... I believe you need not worry."
"So long as that's clear."
A silence fell in the compartment again, though not quite as tense and awkward as the first one.
Seeing that, I glanced over at Aria to check on her.
Did she sense my gaze? Aria opened her eyes and smiled before shifting a bit and leaning on my shoulder again.
I sighed and muttered, "You really have no sense of caution with me around, don't you?"
At that time, I noticed Nero staring at Aria with a frown on his face.
I frowned and stared at him.
Nero noticed and shook his head. "I didn't mean to be rude, Sifu Nowun. But that elf woman... Is she Miss Titania's sister?" Saying that, Nero glanced over at Titania.
"Ah!" Aria sat up and said, "You know my sister?"
Nero coughed and glanced at Titania again. "It's a... There is a unique shared history between us, yes."
A unique shared history...? Ah, right. That guy had fought in the tournament where Titania was set to be the winner's prize.
I thought about bringing it up to ask for more details, but before I could a booming laugh echoed.
Moros grinned and said, "That's one way to put it, Nero. What demon alive hasn't heard of the infamous Frosty B-"
Eris coughed and glanced at Titania.
The eldest elf princess still had her eyes closed and seemed fast asleep. Her breathing was regular she didn't move when called out. However, the twitching of her ears betrayed her, showing that she was definitely listening.
"...Witch," Moros said. "Frosty Witch."
Aria tilted her head, confused. "The Frosty Witch?" She turned to look at Titania.
Of course, since Titania had feigned being asleep, she couldn't just get up now.
"Well!" Aria smiled and said, "Since Tani's sleeping, could you tell me what you know about her? She doesn't like talking about her past very much, so I'm curious to hear about what she was like."
Titania's ears twitched again.
I smiled and leaned forward. "That's right. I'm curious too... And we've got some time to kill."
Moros coughed and quickly averted his gaze.
Nero flinched and pretended to be extremely interested at what was outside the window.
Eve was still under the spell, so she couldn't say anything.
That left Eris.
The Ruby Archfiend stared at Titania for a bit and then a sly smile crossed her face. She turned to Aria and said, "Well, Miss Aria. As we said, your eldest sister has quite the reputation back in the Demon Realm. You see, back during our current Demon Lord's coronation..."
HappyVainGlory
Not much on my mind today for this chapter. Thanks for reading!
|
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"Amnesia",
"Arranged Marriage",
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"Corruption",
"Dao Comprehension",
"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
"Enemies Become Allies",
"Fantasy World",
"Fated Lovers",
"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
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"Multiple Timelines",
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"Personality Changes",
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"Time Manipulation",
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|
HappyVainGlory
Urgh. Not been feeling well lately, but trying to get things back on track. Hopefully I should get things back on track soon. Thanks for reading and sticking with me!
“Tch. I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.”
The nameless man pulled his sword out from the White Tiger’s heart and frowned. The black blade thrummed with energy, having drained the essence of the White Tiger, but continued to emit an attractive force, as if still unsatisfied.
But before the nameless man could think about it more, a dozen powerful energy signatures flared. Saint-level auras swiftly approached, each stronger than the last. The Bai Clan’s finest didn’t intend to take the White Tiger’s death lying down, it seemed.
The air rippled and suddenly became denser. An intangible change in the nature of space itself. A quick probe revealed that the chamber had been locked down, preventing spatial transfer. A powerful formation empowered by those same approaching experts.
It would take a few moments for even him to break it and escape… not that he intended to.
Instead of dwelling on the approaching experts, the nameless man took a look around.
In front of him, the White Tiger’s corpse lay slouched upon a pristine cushion the color of freshly fallen snow. Yet, like the tiger’s own pelt, that cushion was slowly turning crimson, dyed a deep red from the blood spilling from the tiger’s fatal wound.
Besides that, there were eight pillars in the chamber, arranged in a circle around the tiger. The nameless man believed that they were originally meant to protect the White Tiger by serving as the foundation for a defensive formation. Unfortunately, to him who could hide from the world itself, it was meaningless.
…Well, not entirely.
The eight pillars suddenly flared, revealing complex patterns and symbols that resonated with each other to form a barrier on top of the one locking down space. At the same time, whatever formation it powered had hidden the pair of doors that the nameless man had used to enter the White Tiger’s inner sanctum.
“Those guys were really prepared, huh?”
The nameless man admired the caution. With the double-layered defense, it would have been impossible for anyone to escape before the Bai Clan’s forces arrived. The spatial lock made it impossible for anyone below the level of a Saint to move, and even if one had that power, they would be suppressed quite a bit. Then, to escape, they would have to break the eight pillars to reveal the exit, or shatter the barrier itself. Yet, from the aura emanating off the pillars, that would require overpowering the layered strength from twelve different Saint-level experts.
In short, barring someone that had broken through the Door of Immortality, no one could escape.
Fortunately for him, he was exactly that ‘no one’.
“Hm… I might as well experiment with what that One Tin showed me.”
A realm separate from the physical world and yet interacted with it all the same. A place where ‘karma’ overlapped and entangled with ‘fate’. The nameless man dismissed his sword and then focused on that peculiar sensation from when he met ‘One Tin’. The moment he did, countless threads and colorful lines filled his field of vision.
Curiously, none of them interacted with him. The few that did twisted and fell apart the moment they drew near.
It was odd, but that could be saved for later. At the moment, he couldn’t maintain the realm for very long since his familiarity with it was still low. Only a few breaths time… maybe a minute, tops.
“Before then…”
The nameless man turned his attention to the White Tiger and held out his left hand. “If my hypothesis is correct, then…”
The myriad lines of karma surrounding the White Tiger’s corpse frayed. In their place, dark threads swiftly formed, wrapping up the corpse like a spider did its prey. The moment that the White Tiger was completely covered, the nameless man clenched his left hand.
The dark threads condensed, and then the White Tiger vanished into oblivion. At the same time, the nameless man felt a peculiar aura form in the depths of his being, ferocious and crackling with energy.
“Hoh?”
He was surprised, but didn’t have the time to dwell on that. The moment the aura formed, he slipped back into the normal world and faced the suppression of the barrier and spatial lock again.
When he reemerged in reality, a powerful aura surged. The strongest of the Saint-level experts approaching him.
Before the nameless man could react, space ripped open and someone emerged in front of him.
It was a heroic man wearing silver robes. Long black hair tied in a ponytail fluttered behind him, shifting along with his robes in an unseen wind. His sharp gray eyes narrowed like swords and he swept his gaze across the chamber before settling on the nameless man standing before the White Tiger’s cushion.
“You,” the heroic man said. “What did you do with the White Tiger?”
The nameless man smirked. He used his Absolute Memory and pulled out the useful information from the White Tiger’s remains. “Isn’t it obvious, Bai Wei?”
The heroic man, Bai Wei, frowned. “This…”
The nameless man stepped forward and swept out his arms. “I am the White Tiger.”
As if waiting to be acknowledged, when the nameless man spoke those words, a divine aura emerged. The White Tiger’s own spiritual essence filled the room, causing sparks of white lightning to form and crackle.
Bai Wei’s eyes widened just a fraction before narrowing again. “No. You are not.” The strongest of the Bai Clan’s Saints turned his body, shifting into a combat stance, and held out a fist. “I know not what manner of devil you are to have usurped the Divine Beast’s powers, but you will fall here!”
Bai Wei charged. A towering silhouette formed behind him, mirroring his movements, and pulled back its fist.
At the same time, the nameless man felt the rest of the Bai Clan experts arrive, as well as a surge of energy as countless techniques were focused on him.
The nameless man sighed. “Well, I tried.”
Bai Wei arrived in front of the nameless man and thrust out his fist. The towering figure behind him did so as well, sending forth a blow that seemed to twist time and space itself as it moved.
In the face of that attack, as well as the impending damage from the others, the nameless man didn’t move. Instead, he simply smiled.
Bai Wei’s expression flickered. Did he sense something?
Even if he did-
“It’s too late! White Tiger Roar!”
The nameless man’s smile turned into a grin and then there was an explosion of divine lightning.
Xinxin stumbled as a powerful aura swept through the air. Just as she was about to fall to the ground, Mu Tian reached out and grabbed her arm, holding her steady. Ordinarily, Xinxin would have scolded him for that, but instead she turned towards the center of the city.
White lightning crackled above the central palace, as if divine tribulation had descended upon Heavenspan as a whole. From that place, five men and six women flew through the air, rapidly making an escape. Yet, they couldn’t escape the bolts of energy pursuing them.
The men and women closest to the central palace were struck down in a flash of light, evaporating in an instant. The ones further away were more fortunate, but were still struck by lightning. While not fatal, their skin was charred black, their robes burnt, and their hair frazzled.
That was startling in itself, enough to catch the eye. But more than that, Xinxin could sense that those fleeing men and women were the ones that had locked onto her earlier. And only half of them remained. Just what could-
“Let us go, Lady Xian.”
Mu Tian tugged onto her arm and started walking back towards the checkpoint. “We can return after the situation has calmed down.”
Xinxin didn’t move. Not because she was stunned by the events happening, but because she felt something else.
Beyond the auras of the experts she felt earlier, there was something else. An intangible presence that clung in the air, something that tugged at her heart. A familiarity that had been etched onto her very being.
“Sifu?” Xinxin muttered that word and took a step forward.
“Wait!” Mu Tian tightened his grip around Xinxin’s arm and pulled her back. “What are you thinking, Lady Xian?”
The act broke Xinxin out of her daze. She blinked and then realized that Mu Tian was holding her back. She yanked her arm, trying to get Mu Tian to let go. “Release me!”
“No!” Mu Tian shook his head. “Did you forget where we are? If you cause trouble here, we will be facing twelve Saints! At once!”
Xinxin managed to wrench her arm away and said, “So what? Do you think any of them will be in fighting form after that?” Xinxin pointed towards the central palace.
“You fool!”
“What did you call me, Mu Tian!?” Xinxin’s energy flared, releasing a bit of her cultivation base.
“I called you a fool! No, not just a fool, a foolish young girl! Just because there is a crisis does not mean that the Bai Clan’s twelve Saints are incapable! And what do you think will happen if you, a Saint-level expert, suddenly-“
Mu Tian’s eyes widened.
Before Xinxin could react, Mu Tian charged towards her and shoved her aside. At the same time, he drew his blade and slashed through the air.
A crisp note resounded before turning into a shrill screech as Mu Tian’s sword clashed with another. Shortly after, a calm female voice called out. “So there are others involved! You concealed yourselves well, but do not think that the Bai Clan will let you leave unscathed for harming the White Tiger!”
Mu Tian grit his teeth and shoved his attacked away before pivoting back towards Xinxin’s side. He glanced at her in the corner of his eyes and said, “See why I call you a fool!?”
Xinxin coughed, and then began forming a blade from her qi. “S-So what? All we have to do is fight!” With that said, she turned to look at their latest opponent.
It was a woman. Like Xinxin, she was beautiful. However, Xinxin felt that there was something off about that beauty. Pure, jade-like skin and profound blue eyes. Silky raven hair fashioned in a bun and held in place by a butterfly pin. The woman wore silver robes and wielded a pure white blade in her left hand, the one that she had used to attack earlier.
Powerful energy fluctuations emanating from her and the disturbance in the air revealed that the woman wasn’t a simple opponent either. She raised her sword and prepared to strike…
And then Xinxin realized what was off about the woman’s beauty. When she did, Xinxin laughed.
The woman’s blue eyes narrowed. “You dare laugh at I, Bai Yuyan?”
Xinxin shook her head and said, “Who wouldn’t at an old hag who hides her wrinkles with a transformation technique?”
“Xinxin!” Mu Tian called out a warning.
Too slow.
The moment that Xinxin’s words finished, Bai Yuyan charged. Her sword flashed a pure white and cut through the air like lightning- no, faster than that.
Xinxin couldn’t react.
Mu Tian moved to intercept, but he was a beat too slow, the result of Xinxin’s absurd declaration.
As a result, Bai Yuyan’s sword pierced Xinxin’s chest.
At least, it should have. Yet, instead of stabbing Xinxin’s heart and causing a spray of blood, the white sword halted a finger’s width before Xinxin’s chest, and with it, so too did Bai Yuyan.
Everyone froze, staring at where the sword tip halted. Mu Tian, Bai Yuyan, even Xinxin. The sudden attack and the unexpected defense made everyone unable to react. Not only was the sword and its wielder stopped in place, but, starting where the sword came in contact with Xinxin’s robes, it was slowly being ground away, turning into white dust.
Xinxin recovered from the shock first and then stabbed her blade through the woman’s chest. Unlike Xinxin, Bai Yuyan didn’t have any sort of protection. Blood sprayed from the wound and the Saintess staggered back, clutching at her chest.
Xinxin stepped forward to finish the job. However, before she could, Mu Tian swung his sword and split Bai Yuyan in half. Unlike Xinxin’s slash, no blood scattered with his attack. Instead, the air seemed to distort and then Bai Yuyan’s body crumbled into ash.
Xinxin dismissed her blade and rounded on Mu Tian. “I had it under control! What do you think- Hey!”
Mu Tian grabbed Xinxin’s right wrist with his left arm. “We leave, now!” With his free hand, Mu Tian cut through the air. Space, which had been weakened from his earlier slash, completely tore open.
“Leave? Why?!“
Mu Tian didn’t respond. Instead, he turned towards the spatial crack and jumped into it.
He must have been expecting Xinxin to follow him. Whether because he thought she would realize his intentions, or because he thought she trusted him enough to just go with whatever he did, Mu Tian moved without another thought.
He shouldn’t have.
As Mu Tian’s body entered the spatial crack, Xinxin pulled back. It caused Mu Tian to spin around to face her, most of his body inside the spatial crack except for his left arm, and for him to lose his grip.
Spatial cracks were fundamentally unstable. While they could be used for traveling and quick escape, it took concentration to both open one and control it enough to direct its destination.
The sudden jolt from Xinxin wrenching back distracted Mu Tian, and he lost control over the spatial crack.
All Xinxin had the time to see was Mu Tian’s face distort in shock before the crack vanished, sewn shut as the world’s natural laws closed the torn seam in space.
Xinxin stumbled back, suddenly losing the resistance from Mu Tian pulling her. She collapsed on the ground, causing dirt to cover her violet dress.
And then something flopped onto the ground next to her. Mu Tian’s arm, cleanly severed at the shoulder and still reaching out towards her.
Xinxin screamed.
|
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The eastern edge of the Ancient Forest, amidst the towering trees and long shadows from the vast canopy.
There, I glanced behind me and said, "Frosty Witch, huh? Who would have thought that the prim and proper Titania had such a fiery past."
Titania sent me a death glare.
I smiled.
Even though she was furious, Titania didn't say anything in response. The reason for that...
"I can't believe it either!" Aria beamed and said, "You sounded so cool, Tani!"
...Was Aria, who enjoyed Titania's past far too much for the eldest elf princess to deny it.
Well, in the end it was Titania's own fault for pretended to stay asleep through the entire ride even while I pointedly asked for more details from the demons.
Aria placed a hand on her hips and mimed drawing a sword. With a stern face... well, as stern a face as Aria could manage, she said, "How dare you dishonor my father! Draw your blade!"
My mouth twitched.
Titania noticed and narrowed her eyes, her expression promising a complete and thorough revenge at a later point.
Of course, I'd been faced with worse back in the Xia Dynasty so it didn't faze me.
Aria clasped her hands together and turned towards Titania. "I knew you were always confident, Tani, but to challenge all of the Demon Lord's subordinates for father's sake... That's incredible!"
Titania coughed, the tips of her ears turning red. "I-It was nothing."
I turned my gaze back to the front, quickly suppressing the smile threatening to emerge on my face.
Despite that, I could feel Titania's eyes burning a hole in my back. Figuratively, of course.
If she could actually do that, I highly doubted events would have turned out this way.
The Ancient Forest was essentially the same as it had always been. Of course, we were still near the outskirts and far from Alvheim, so that was relative.
I wouldn't doubt if things changed when we approached the center.
After arriving, the demons had gone on ahead with Erik and Xinxin and her entourage of disciples to meet with the Emperor.
As for myself, Aria, and Titania... I thought it would be best to delay a while and lagged behind with the excuse of wanting to gather the natural energy in the forest.
It was complete nonsense, of course.
Still, my instincts were warning me about rushing to Alvheim too soon, so I decided to trust them and take my time.
"Why did you try to hide it, Tani?"
I glanced back again to watch the unfolding drama.
Aria frowned and said, "If I knew, I would have chosen to practice swordsmanship instead of archery like our other sisters!"
Titania coughed and glanced to the side. "I-It is a bit embarrassing to bring up. Moreover, it was a long time ago. A legacy of a misspent youth, so to speak."
"But you should be proud of your past!" Aria turned towards me and said, "Isn't that right, Mister Nowun?"
Realizing the life rope she was thrown, Titania turned as well, a vindictive smile on her face. "Yes. Do tell us your thoughts on the matter, Nowun."
It was a clear attempt at schadenfreude.
Even so, it didn't bother me. I shrugged and said, "Regardless of what happened in the past, it's important to acknowledge it. Failing to do so would just be running away and demeaning everything you've trampled upon to this point."
Titania flinched. "T-That..."
Aria sighed. "I thought you wanted to take the scenic route to relax, Mister Nowun. Did you really have to make things so serious?"
"You asked, I answered."
Aria shook her head and then turned back to Titania. "Ignore Mister Nowun, Tani. Now, I heard a lot from Miss Eris during the ride, but there was something I was really curious about that I wanted to ask you."
Titania regained her composure and nodded. "Go ahead and ask, Ari."
"Well..." Aria thought for a bit and said, "I heard that you were harassed a lot when you were walking around in the Demon Realm."
Titania's face dimmed and she narrowed her eyes. "Yes. There were... quite a few men who did not understand the concept of personal space. One in particular-"
"Right! That person!" Aria nodded and said, "I wanted to ask you about that!"
Titania blinked. "Him?"
"Well," Aria said. "Not exactly about him. I just wanted to know what you meant when you said you would rip off his glib tongue and ram it so far down the gates of Almadel even darkness couldn't reach it." She frowned and said, "Isn't the Demon Realm where the Heart of Darkness exists? Do you have a secret sword technique strong enough to defy even that?"
Titania blanched.
I quietly recited the mantras I repossessed from around the Xia Dynasty to calm my heart.
"T-That..." Titania glanced towards me for help.
I stared back, leaving her to her own devices.
Aria's eyes sparkled, staring at her elder sister with anticipation.
"U-Um... That... Well..." Titania stammered and glanced around, as if searching for an answer in her surroundings.
"Taaaniii! Please? I want to learn it!" Aria's eyes dimmed and she said, "I know I'm not very strong, but if there's anything that I can do so that I can be of use to everyone..."
I nodded and said, "Aria's right, Titania." I put on a grave expression and said, "If you possess such a heaven-defying technique, please, let me know so that I can factor you into future battle plans."
Titania's right eye twitched and she glanced between me and Aria.
Aria laced her hands together and placed them against her chest. "Please, Tani!"
"...W-Well... T-That is to say..." Titania's eyes spun for a bit before she coughed and said, "It is far too dangerous to say it in the open."
I blinked and said, "I can conceal our presence if need be."
Aria nodded. "That's right! Mister Nowun is great at hiding and running away from things. I'm sure that it'll be fine if he keeps an eye out!"
Ouch. Well... at least that confirmed to me whether or not Aria was really that innocent. I guess she still had a bit of a grudge for leaving her alone to explore the sect.
Titania shook her head. "Regardless, it is better to eliminate the possibility entirely than to risk it occurring. Besides." She looked at me and said, "You are still recovering, are you not? I would not wish to betray Master Xinxin's expectations by allowing you to strain yourself for something so trivial."
It was amusing how Titania managed to come up with a plausible excuse on the fly. I was also tempted to get her more flustered and see if I could get her to drop that cold mask of hers... but we had been idling around long enough now.
I nodded and said, "As you say."
Aria turned to me and frowned. "...But you're fine, aren't you, Mister Nowun?"
"Better safe than sorry. Now, let's speed things up. Wouldn't want to cause trouble for my beloved disciple."
Following my words, the three of us charged through the rest of the forest.
And when we arrived at Alvheim...
Aria trembled, quietly grabbing my right hand.
Titania grit her teeth, forcibly holding her hands against her sides so as to not draw her blade.
I narrowed my eyes.
It was the same as the future that I arrived at. Yggdrasil had become a burned husk, and Alvheim had become nothing more than ashes. The only difference was that most of the Ancient Forest remained and the damage seemed to be isolated to the World Tree.
But that was odd. Something like this lined up too closely with my memories. Was this what I was sensing...?
Imperial soldiers in pitch black armor were moving about in the distance, chopping down trees and making temporary shelter. Callous lumberjacking with complete disregard to the surroundings.
I frowned. Considering the situation and their circumstances, I could see how it might be necessary, but-
The crisp sound of a sword being unsheathed rang out from nearby.
I stepped over and grabbed Titania's hand.
She tensed, stuck in the motion of drawing the sword from her waist. Her jaded green eyes glared at me, shining with dangerous light.
"Not here."
Titania closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "...I understand."
Seeing that, I let go of her hand. When I did, it fell limply to her side.
By that time, a few soldiers had noticed our presence.
I pulled Aria closer to me and then concealed our presence, wiping out any trace that might emerge. With that, I glanced at Titania and said, "Let's go."
Titania gave me a long look and then took up a position next to Aria. Perhaps not trusting herself to refrain from doing anything reckless, Titania grabbed Aria's right hand.
Aria stared at her and let out a faint smile.
In the distance, Xinxin's palanquin and the rest of her entourage had already set up camp around the former entrance of Alvheim, that giant hollow in the center of Yggdrasil.
I took a moment to check for any discrepancies, be it the Goddess or otherwise, with my spiritual sense.
Xinxin noticed me, but other than her, it seemed like we were in the clear.
Since that was the case, there wasn't any point in prolonging this situation. I glanced at Aria and Titania and said, "Don't panic."
Darkness surged, space bent... and then we were standing a few paces behind Xinxin's palanquin.
As expected, my disciple got up to move, her silhouette shifting from within that concealed compartment. But before she could get out, people started to move.
In front, Erik and his two woman, the blue-haired and elegant Mary along with the brown-haired tomboy Sarah, led Nero, Eve, Moros, and Eris towards Yggdrasil.
Then, walking over towards us, there was a small platoon of Imperial soldiers led by a single man.
Golden hair and a suppressed aura bearing traces of darkness, chaos, and a golden light that seemed to mix mana with qi to become something else entirely. An iron crown placed upon his head and a body covered in black steel armor from the head down.
Emperor Elio.
HappyVainGlory
:sweat: Being put through the wringer in school. Thankfully, I've got things mapped out so it's not too bad, but I'm sorry if the quality dips a bit. Gotta figure out a way to schedule things to maintain energy through the day. Anyway, thanks for reading as always! Double thanks for commenting since they help brighten up my day and give me a teensy bit more energy.
|
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|
I opened my eyes.
There was an unfamiliar ceiling above me, and my mind was foggy.
It seemed that I was lying in a bed. From how soft it was as well as the luxurious violet quilt over me, it was a fairly fancy one too.
But… Where was I?
I sat up. The moment I did, a jolt of pain flashed through my head. “Gah…” I winced and clutched my temple with my right hand.
“Mm?” A soft and lovely voice echoed. Directly beside me, to my left.
I froze and glanced over.
A young beauty lay huddled under the quilt, hidden up to her chin beneath it. Still, it wasn’t enough to hide her features.
Violet eyes, as pure as amethysts. Milky white skin like the pale moon. Lovely pink lips and silky raven hair, slightly disheveled from sleep.
…And she had been sleeping right beside me.
The absurdity of the situation caused me to jump out of the bed in a panic.
“Eep!” The beautiful young woman let out a small squeal and grabbed the quilt before it could go flying, holding it up to her chin. She quickly glanced around the room, her eyes alert and cautious. Yet, when she saw me standing off to the side, she relaxed and then started to pout. “Sifu! Couldn’t you have woken up like a normal person?”
Sifu?
I frowned and carefully stared at the beautiful young woman.
Delicate features, as if carved by master artisans. An enchanting appearance that could bewitch men, demons, and gods alike.
For a split second, I thought she might be Serena… but she had called me Sifu.
Sifu… So then that means…?
“Xinxin?”
She smiled and then nodded. Pulling up the quilt to her chin again, she shifted around until she was facing me, the quilt wrapped around her like a cape. “That’s right,” she said. “It’s me, Xinxin. Your faithful… disciple!”
A splitting headache.
I winced and then shook my head, clutching at my temple again. “I… What happened? The last thing I remember is…”
Memories flickered in my mind.
Fighting against Serena. Using my trump card against her… Losing. And then… Nothing.
No. That wasn’t true. I could vaguely recall seeing some familiar faces. Aria, Saphira, and Titania. But how and where…?
The beautiful young woman… No. My naïve disciple, Xinxin. She stared at me and then sighed. “It’s a long story,” she said. “But don’t worry, Sifu!” She smiled and said, “You’re safe here!”
“Safe?”
I frowned, wondering why she would bring that up. And then I felt it.
My body… no. Everything about me was weaker than before. A lot weaker.
My powers… both mana and cultivation were heavily depleted. If I had to quantify it… I’d say that I was only at about a thousandth of what I had been before.
Considering my strength, that meant I was still a fair bit stronger than the average person. But when I took into account my enemy, it might as well have just been wishful thinking.
Thankfully, they weren’t completely gone. Even as I focused on them, I felt both my mana and cultivation base returning. Still, while it was returning at a steady rate, I had a feeling it would be a long time before I was back in top form. Months… maybe years even.
I shook my head. That was a problem for later. Right now…
I glanced up at my disciple. That naïve girl who begged me to become her Sifu, who followed and trusted me despite all common sense saying otherwise.
Xinxin stared back at me, her gaze soft and tender.
I averted my eyes.
It had been fine when she was younger, but now that she had grown up, it was hard to ignore the fact that my disciple was an extreme beauty.
Xinxin laughed and then stretched, letting the quilt fall back to the bed.
For a split second, I panicked, thinking that she was undressed. Fortunately, she wasn’t.
Beneath the quilt, Xinxin was wearing a lilac colored dress with a violet sash. Though a bit disheveled from her sleeping, there wasn’t anything off or untoward about it.
I sighed… and then I froze.
Her dress was sleeveless, leaving her arms bare. Because of that, I could see the marks on them. Deep and dark blue bruises around her wrists and lighter ones around her arms.
I traced them up and saw that there were some around her neck too. The signs of someone grabbing her there without holding back at all, as if trying to crush her throat.
Xinxin noticed me staring and flinched, tugging the top of her dress, trying to hide the marks. “A-Ah. This…”
I reached out with my right hand, intending to trace the bruises around her neck.
The moment I moved it, Xinxin flinched. It was only slight, a subtle motion. But it was enough to draw my eye.
I froze, my hand outstretched in the air. “This… I didn’t do this to you, did I?”
Now that I was paying attention, I could see other traces too. Her beautiful violet eyes were red, as if she had been crying. Her delicate cheeks were stained with tears, only recently dried. And furthermore, the marks on her neck… they didn’t stop there.
While her dress covered most of her body, it was thin enough that I could see a bit beneath it. And the dark blue bruises she had were easily visible against the light lilac-colored fabric.
When I realized just how badly she was hurt, my stomach fell and I started to feel nauseous from guilt.
Did Xinxin realize it? She laughed and reached out, gently lowering my hand. Shaking her head, she smiled and said, “You worry too much, Sifu. You’d never hurt me. This… This is just a result of my training. That’s all.”
“…Training?”
Xinxin nodded and said, “I’ve been trying to hone my body to be able to withstand the chaotic void behind the spatial cracks. This… These marks are just a result of that.”
I wanted to believe her.
I wanted to think that Xinxin was telling the truth and that I didn’t do anything to her.
But… She hadn’t been looking me in the eye when she was speaking. Her violet eyes stared at me, but they kept flitting away.
Maybe it could just be nerves. After all, I had woken her up in an awkward way. Maybe she was just embarrassed.
…But that was just lying to myself.
I could remember it. How I ripped Aria apart limb from limb and then took all of her powers, her very soul. How I had been so hungry to gain strength. Obsessed to be strong enough to defeat that Goddess and find a way back home.
Even now that hunger, that obsession still lurked. While it was tempered a bit, I could sense it waiting for me to just let my guard down.
Knowing that, seeing the marks on Xinxin, and then even sensing traces of my power lingering all over her body…
I shook my head. “You’re lying, Xinxin. I… What did I…?”
Xinxin sighed and reached over. She held out her hand and lightly tapped me on my head. “Where’s my harsh Sifu? If this was back then and you saw me like this, you would have just told me to pull myself together.” She stared at me and said, “You’re being awfully kind right now, Sifu.”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I just looked at her. Stared into her eyes.
She stared back, a soft smile on her beautiful face, her violet eyes meeting my own with a warm gaze. But the bruises on her neck, the fact that traces of my power were all over her body… and now that I focused on it, even traces of it coursing through her…
Xinxin shook her head. “Well, it’s clear that you need more rest, Sifu.” She got out of the bed and then brushed herself off. After that, she smiled at me and said, “I’ll be back soon with some food. Don’t leave again, alright?”
With that, she walked off.
I watched her leave. Because of that, I saw that she was limping. Just a bit, but enough for me to notice.
And for her to do that considering the training she went and her cultivation level…
Crushing guilt. My stomach felt like it had a pit, and my breath caught in my chest.
While I didn’t know exactly what I did to her… and I was certain that she would never tell me, I could make a few guesses. And of those guesses…
I sat down on the bed and lowered my head, covering my face with both of my hands.
“What have I done? No… What happened to me?”
I tried to remember. I wanted to remember.
As if in response to my wish, the familiar sensation of Absolute Memory returned. Bits and pieces of the past flickered through my mind… but they were jumbled. Not only that, but entire swathes of time were missing… No. Not missing. Inaccessible, the backlash from my Paradoxum Memoriae, the technique I developed to kill that goddess.
Still, there was enough for me to fit the pieces together, enough for me to tell what I had become.
“A hungry ghost… No. A Preta.”
In that other world, the world where I met Xinxin, I did countless things to get enough power to kill that goddess and find a way home. To carve a path through the heavens to return to Earth.
I thought it was enough, but when I fought her, I lost.
…No. It wasn’t a complete loss. I managed to figure out the source of her powers and her divinity in that clash. ‘Order’ and ‘Light’. Combined, it was the light of Creation, which allowed her to govern over the world.
Now that I knew that, I could beat her. My Chaotic Darkness countered it, and my Absolute Memory could replicate it if I managed to get a portion of her powers.
If I had both, then I could stand on equal grounds against her. Reach the place where she waited, in that plane above the world and outside of time and space. There, I could settle it once and for all.
But I had been too hasty. Impatient. As a result… I was almost back to where I began.
I could still use Chaos, Darkness, and the combination I developed through cultivation, the path of Chaotic Darkness I started to walk that devoured everything and assimilated it within myself.
But everything else was gone. Well, temporarily. I could sense that I still remembered how to use it, and my Absolute Memory ensured that it was just a matter of time to restore my strength. But I still needed that time.
Furthermore, my body was wrecked. The meridians I painstakingly memorized and refined were cracked and splintered and the dantian I created was emptied out. My mana reserves were at an all time low too, probably only around 1,000 MP if I was using that goddess’s system to gauge it. And that was while I was in a place where mana was abundant too, unlike back in that other world.
It was the worst case scenario, essentially. Not only that, but because I was so wrecked, I couldn’t use Absolute Memory to loop or jump through space. While I was sure it would trigger if I died, I wasn’t sure if I would still be ‘me’ when it did. At least, not completely lucid like I was now.
But while that was bad, there was something more important than worrying about myself.
That thing… No. That person…
“Xinxin.” I muttered her name and stared at the ground.
The naïve young girl who bravely sought to become my disciple to escape a dead-end fate. The innocent young girl that I betrayed and used countless times to increase my strength before finally teaching her properly. The young girl that I left to her own devices after barely being strong enough to fend for herself…
I didn’t have a problem with killing people. Whether that was a flaw in personality that originally existed or something that became twisted along the way, I didn’t know. But killing people, innocent or not, didn’t bother me.
Yet, when I thought about all that I did to Xinxin. To that adorable young girl who was so happy that I reached out to help her, even while I led her to her and her clan to death in countless time loops before teaching her properly…
She must have known. If she was strong enough to reach me, who was cast off into a random time and place after losing to that goddess, there was no way that she didn’t know what I did.
…But she still went looking for me anyway. Not only that, but she was the only one who realized who ‘I’ really was. The only one who was still here after Aria and Saphira stayed with the shell I left behind.
I uncovered my face and clenched my hands into fists. “Dammit.”
Unlike with Aria, I didn’t have the excuse of saying that our connection was forced.
Xinxin… I was the one who picked her up. Who gave her strength and hope. Who turned her from an innocent young beauty to who she was today.
…Who I would never be able to repay for what she did for me, what she gave me.
I clenched my hands and examined my body.
I could feel it. Traces of power that weren’t my own coursed through my veins.
It was compatible, similar to my own. A Chaotic Darkness that fundamentally opposed the goddess’s Order of Light. But it wasn’t mine. It was softer, more subtle. Calming, almost. Enough to quell the hunger and emptiness that I had felt ever since losing his Faithful Companion and ending up in that cultivation world.
That meant that… this power…
The door opened and Xinxin walked in carrying a small tray in both of her hands. On it, there was a small bowl of rice porridge with pieces of haphazardly cut chicken in it. A wooden spoon was placed on the side.
Seeing me stare, Xinxin flushed. “It’s not much, Sifu, but I hope it’s to your liking.” After saying that, she offered me the tray.
I hesitated. The kindness she showed me… It was uncomfortable.
Xinxin’s expression dimmed. “Is it… not to your liking, Sifu?”
I shook my head. “It’s not that. I’m just…” I glanced back at her.
Xinxin’s body was healed now. The bruises on her body were gone, as if they never happened, and her red eyes were back to normal. It was like the battered beauty I saw when waking up was just a nightmare.
But I knew better.
Still…
I took the tray from her.
Xinxin smiled and dragged over a chair, sitting down to look at me.
I sighed and took a bite of the porridge using the wooden spoon.
It… wasn’t that good. There was a bit too much salt, the rice was lumpy, and the chicken was cut too thick. Still, I could sense the awkward care and love putting into it, so I couldn’t complain.
Even so… it was hard to swallow. But not because of the quality of the food or the cooking. Instead, that kindness and compassion…
My vision blurred.
Xinxin looked down. “I knew it. I’m no good at cooking after all…”
I shook my head. “No. It’s… It’s great. The best I’ve ever had. Really.”
Xinxin smiled. “That’s great! Then… Ah! I forgot to make you some tea!” She got up and said, “I’ll be right back, Sifu!” With that, she ran out again.
When she did, I brushed my eyes, wiping away my tears. At the same time, I used Information Concealment to hide the fact that I cried at all. After that, I laughed.
“This… is new.”
I, the heartless man who killed the very girl I saved, defeated the Wrathful Sin Dragon through sheer determination, who slaughtered millions and stole their lives to increase my strength… who treated my own disciple so harshly.
With just a small bowl of porridge made with care and affection, my cold heart was wavering.
But…
“This isn’t good. For either of us.”
I didn’t know when or if I would revert to being a mindless killing machine. While I was stable now, and while my power was still too low to be of any harm, there was still the chance that I could become dangerous. If I did that and hurt Xinxin again. If I did that to the only person in this whole world that I could say with certainty I truly cared about…
I would break. Worse than when I lost against the Goddess.
But not only that, Xinxin… She seemed to believe that she loved me. The care and affection in her eyes… it was clear that she thought so at least.
But… I knew better.
From my treatment of her in the past… Harsh abuse and then encouragement. Reaching out to her in her lowest point… I didn’t intend for it to happen, but that was the exact same method that was used in abusive relationships to keep the victim from running. To make them want to stay and believe they were in love.
Stockholm syndrome.
I took another bite of my porridge. All of a sudden, however, it just tasted like ash.
Xinxin returned with a teapot and some cups. “Thanks for waiting, Sifu!”
I smiled, carefully hiding my feelings, and nodded. “It’s no problem.”
She set them on a table and then lifted the teapot to pour a cup of tea.
Before she could, I moved my tray to side and said, “That’s enough. Let me.”
“Sifu-“
I walked over and wrapped my hands around hers, gently placing the teapot on the table.
Xinxin flushed and then nodded, moving her hands away.
I poured a cup of tea and set it down in front of Xinxin before pouring myself one as well. After that, I gestured for Xinxin to sit down.
Xinxin glanced at my unfinished porridge. “But Sifu. You-“
I narrowed my eyes. “Xinxin. Sit down.”
Hearing that, Xinxin flushed and then did as I said.
That caused a twinge of guilt to pass through my heart when I realized just how obedient she was towards me.
I sighed and then walked over to move the chair that Xinxin sat in earlier to the table. That done, I picked up my cup of tea and took a sip, glancing at Xinxin.
HappyVainGlory
Might be a bit rough. Scrunched on time today. Still, hope it was an enjoyable read. Thanks for reading and I'll see you tomorrow!
|
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|
After sending Erik and his girls away to get refreshments for both herself and their guest, Xinxin led Mister ‘Dark Knight’ and Titania through the grounds of the sect towards a more private location.
A pagoda within a courtyard of flowers, violet silk drapes hanging from each side. It was a recreation of Xinxin’s keepsake from her mother. While Wang Tian’s domain had vanished, it seemed like the places he built for Xinxin remained. Whether that was out of his will or whether he had them physically constructed beforehand, Xinxin didn’t know.
Night had fallen, a full moon hanging in the starry sky. While it was bright because of that, a few orange paper lanterns were hanging around the pagoda, giving a soft ambience in addition to the moonlight.
Xinxin walked up to the pagoda and then sat down at a chair in front of the table inside. Titania followed after her and took a position standing behind Xinxin.
After sitting down, for a brief moment Xinxin stared at the vacant chair opposite the table. Being in the pagoda again… it reminded her of the times she spent at her true pagoda, both with her Sifu and with Wang Tian.
Xinxin she shook her head, clearing it of the wistful memories, and turned her attention back to her guest.
Mister ‘Dark Knight’, the gray-haired demon from the Dark Tournament, stood at the edge of the pagoda, hesitating to cross the threshold.
Xinxin sighed and beckoned him in. “Come and sit. Your story isn’t a short one, is it? We might as well be comfortable in the meanwhile.” She paused and then glanced at Titania. “You too. Sit down and relax for a while.”
Titania shook her head. “I am fine like this.”
Xinxin shrugged.
The ‘Dark Knight’ finally gathered the courage to advance and then took a seat opposite from Xinxin.
Xinxin smiled and said, “What happened to the confident Dark Knight that dared stand me up in the tournament?”
The gray-haired demon coughed. “That was before I knew you were the one in charge of the Heaven-Seizing Dragon Sect. Had I known, I wouldn’t have acted so disrespectfully.”
Xinxin nodded. “I see… and I’m guessing that’s why you left before the last match?”
The gray-haired demon scratched the back of his head and said, “That was actually because I finished making what I came to the tournament for.”
“Hm…” Xinxin stared at the demon across from her.
He caught her gaze but quickly averted his eyes.
It seemed like her words had stuck with him since the last time they met.
Still…
He’s not Sifu.
Skilled with darkness, fighting with a sword, stealing dantians… all of those things were similar to how her Sifu would act… to how Nowun would act. But after getting a good look at the man before her, Xinxin was sure of it. That person wasn’t Nowun.
Even so, there was something familiar about the guy. A faint tugging at her saying that he was important… or at least someone she should keep an eye on.
For a brief moment, Xinxin thought it might have been because he had a fragment of Nowun’s soul or something. After all, her Sifu had done the stupid thing of shattering his own soul to break the Goddess’s hold on him. But that wasn’t it either.
Just why-
Before Xinxin could finish that thought, footsteps echoed, as well as the soft clink of porcelain.
Mary walked over to the pagoda, dressed in a long azure robe. Her long blue hair drifted behind her, and she held a tray with a pot of tea and some cups. But those weren’t the only things on the tray. Along with a small pile of plates, there was a small wicker basket, opened to reveal a pile of fluffy steam buns.
She stopped at the edge of the table and placed down the tray. “Here you are, Great Heaven Seizer. It’s not much, but I hope it doesn’t offend you.”
Xinxin tilted her head. “What happened to Erik and the other girl?”
Mary shook her head and said, “Erik is preoccupied sending out various messages and familiarizing himself with his new position as the Heavenly King. While he was able to put it off a bit with your presence… it has to be done eventually. And since I am the only one who can cook among us three, the duty of refreshments fell upon myself.” She bowed and said, “I hope it is to your liking.”
The gray-haired demon frowned and said, “The ‘new’ Heavenly King? Did something happen to the old one?”
Mary straightened and then sighed. “My master recently entered his final closed door cultivation.” She glanced briefly at Xinxin, a complicated look on her face, before shaking her head. “As a result, my fellow disciple, Erik, has inherited the title and responsibilities.”
The gray-haired demon shook his head. “In that case… I’m sorry for intruding during such a time.” He looked at Xinxin and said, “Are you sure I should be-“
“It’s fine.” Xinxin reached out to pour herself a cup of tea.
“Ah! Allow me, Great Heaven Seizer!” Mary grabbed the pot before Xinxin could and prepared a cup, placing it down on the table.
Xinxin took it, giving a grateful nod towards Mary. But then she realized what Mary had said and frowned. “You know, it’s fine to call me by something else. Hearing ‘Great Heaven Seizer’ this and ‘Great Heaven Seizer’ that gets a bit annoying.”
Mary’s eyes lit up and she said, “That… are you certain? I do not mean to be impolite…”
Xinxin nodded and started drink from her cup of tea.
“Then… can I call you Grandma?”
Xinxin carefully swallowed her tea and set her cup down. After making sure she wouldn’t spray the Dark Knight with tea, she narrowed her eyes and turned towards Mary. “Do I look that old?”
“A-Ah. But Grandpa said you were only a little younger than him, so I just assumed…“ Mary trailed off and lowered her head.
“That guy!” Xinxin huffed and crossed her arms. “I am only-!” She paused, suddenly remembering the countless loops she had gone through with Nowun, as well as the long time spent waiting in the dark gray mist. After recalling that, she sighed and said, “…Never mind. But Grandma is too much.”
Titania stifled a laugh.
Xinxin decided to ignore her for now. There’d be time to get back at her dear servant soon enough.
Mary nodded. “Then… can I call you Aunt-”
Heavy pressure filled the pagoda.
Mary quickly amended her words and said, “I mean Sister. Can I call you Big Sister?”
Xinxin smiled and released the pressure. “Of course. And tell that to the others as well, would you?”
Mary sighed and then smiled. “Of course, Great- I mean, Big Sister.”
Xinxin nodded and went back to drinking her tea. After that, she looked at the demon and said, “As I was saying before, it’s fine for you to be here. Even if you were planning to take advantage of the transition period, I’m here, so it’d be fruitless.”
“…I can see that.” The demon shook his head and said, “But still, to think I went through all of that to make a pill and ask for a favor, only for the Heavenly King to have perished…”
“A pill?” Xinxin frowned. “What for?”
The demon straightened and said, “I had heard that the Heavenly King was nearing the end of his life a few steps away from true immortality. Seeing an opportunity, I combed through ancient records to find a way for him to breakthrough. In the end, I managed to devise a pill that should help, but…”
“So that’s what you were stealing dantians for.” Xinxin nodded.
It made sense now. While unconventional, it was indeed possible to forcibly breakthrough by taking the cultivation bases of others. If she had to guess, that was probably what her Sifu did to get so strong… well, that and looping time in on itself to increase his cultivation at an exponential rate.
Mary froze. “Stealing dantians?” She looked at the demon with wide eyes and instinctively took a step back.
Xinxin waved her hand. “Relax. He won’t harm anyone while I’m here.” She paused and then said, “Now why don’t you head back now to your lover and spend the night with him? I’m sure he’d appreciate it with the stress.”
Mary blushed. “E-Erik is not my lover!”
Xinxin smiled. “Whatever you say, Little Mary.”
The blue-haired young woman huffed and then quickly left the pagoda.
Like that, it was just Xinxin, Titania, and the demon who still had not given his name.
Xinxin stared at him and said, “So… who are you?”
“Hm?” He tilted his head. “I’m…” He paused and then groaned and ran his hand through his hair. “I did it again. If Eris found out, she’d tear me a new one…”
Xinxin blinked. “Eris?”
The name was vaguely familiar to Xinxin. Like something she’d heard once and promptly forgotten.
The demon shook his head and then stood up. After that, he bowed and said, “I apologize for my rudeness. I am Nero Asmoday, son of Demon Lord Krozma.” He straightened and said, “How should I address you?”
“…Faith is fine.”
Heaven Seizer was too over the top and Xinxin… of the people who knew her by that name, only one remained. Having others add to that number… didn’t feel right.
Nero nodded. “Understood. Miss Faith then.” He stared at Xinxin and frowned. “Is it true that you are the one in charge of this sect? From my understanding, it should have been the Heavenly King… not that I’m doubting you or anything.”
Xinxin poured a cup of tea for Nero and placed it on the table. “I am. The Heavenly King was a…”
Friend? Acquaintance? Lover?
“…Person who knew me very well. Since it would take a while until I arrived here, he created the sect for the day I did.”
Nero’s eyes widened. “Then are you…” He stared at Xinxin and said, “Are you an immortal? They call you the Heaven Seizer, so are you an immortal that stole power from the heavens… from the Goddess herself?”
Xinxin frowned and added more tea to her cup. She also grabbed a steam bun, putting it on a plate in front of her. “Immortal… I suppose that’d be the closest thing to it.”
The only true immortals in the world were her Sifu and that Goddess, but as Xinxin was now… she could be considered close to one at least.
Her Sifu couldn’t die because of his ability, a providence that went beyond even that Goddess’s power. As for that Goddess… well, it was obvious why she was immortal.
Xinxin’s immortality… or rather, inability to perish, came from her bond with her Sifu. Still, considering who her Sifu was, the effect was the same.
Well, now that she and ‘Faith’ had become one, at least. Or was it now that she remembered her past… future? Time was always confusing when it came to her Sifu’s actions…
The sound of a chair being shoved out of the way echoed, shortly followed by the sound of a head knocking against wood.
Xinxin’s eyes widened and she stood up. “What are you doing?”
Nero had jumped to the floor, knocking his head against the pagoda in a kowtow. “Please! I need your help! You… only someone like you can help me!”
Xinxin walked over and pulled him up. “Don’t be so ridiculous! Sit down and drink some tea first!”
“A-Ah.” Nero shook his head and took a seat. “I guess I screwed up the order again… I should have listened more to Eris in my etiquette lessons…”
Xinxin shook her head and then poured another cup of tea. She turned around and offered it to Titania. “Did you want some?”
Titania shook her head. “I am fine, Master.”
Xinxin frowned. “…Let me rephrase that. Drink it.” She paused, remembering Titania’s condition, and then placed a few steam buns on a plate before handing that over as well. “And eat.”
Titania looked confused, but then she nodded and took the cup and plate from Xinxin. “Understood.”
Xinxin sighed. Was this how her Sifu felt about that dragon? It was really a headache making sure your followers thought about their well-being first…
Nero took a long drink from his tea and then set the cup down.
Xinxin turned back to him and said, “Calm now?”
He nodded.
“Alright. So… you’re the son of the Demon Lord and came here to get some help… with what exactly? Taking down the Northern Empire? Conquering the continent?”
Nero shook his head. “Nothing like that. Though, I can see why you might think so with how my father’s been acting…” He sighed. “It’s a long story… Ah, but before then.” He stared at Titania and said, “Are you Miss Titania? The eldest princess of Alvheim?”
Titania gave a bitter laugh. “What princess? Alvheim was razed to the ground.” She narrowed her eyes and then said, “…Because of your people and your father. The Human Empire thought we had joined hands with you and were defying the Goddess. Because of you… Because of that, I-!”
Xinxin sighed. “Must we do this every time, Titania?”
The elf froze and then let out a long sigh. “…My apologies, Master. It will not happen again.” She shook her head and then ignored Nero, focusing instead on her tea and food.
Xinxin glanced at Nero and said, “Was there a reason you brought that up? Or is it just that your rudeness knows no bounds? Because if it’s the latter, I think we’re done here.”
“No!” Nero shook his head. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” He frowned. “I didn’t know. Ever since I left- no. I should probably start at the beginning.” He sighed and then looked into his tea cup, no doubt sifting through his memories.
Xinxin decided to take a bite from her steam bun while she waited. It was… pretty good, actually. It seemed that Little Mary was a fairly skilled cook along with being a skilled magician. Though it was odd that she knew how to prepare steam buns considering that she was a foreigner… especially considering they were made so well.
Maybe Mary learned because of Wang Tian?
If Xinxin remembered right, he always liked it when she made him steam buns the rare times he returned.
…And now she felt weird again remembering those memories.
Damned Wang Tian.
What resolved karma? What settled debt? At this rate, she’d be the one who owed him too much…
Nero raised his gaze, ready to talk.
Xinxin placed down her steam bun.
“It began three months ago,” Nero said. “My sister was going to go through her rite of passage to inherit the role of the Demon Lord and-“
“Wait.” Xinxin held up her hand and said, “You’re the eldest son, right?” She frowned. “Why is your sister inheriting the role of the Demon Lord? Shouldn’t it be you?”
Nero smiled. “While I’m happy that you think I’d be a good fit… it’s impossible for me.” He sighed and then raised his hand. Darkness gathered, flickering at his finger tips.
Xinxin stared at it and then frowned. That was darkness, similar to her own… but it was weak. No, not just weak. Forced. Now that Xinxin saw it up close, she realized that there was something missing in that darkness of his, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.
Nero shook his head and then dismissed the darkness. “I said it to you, didn’t I? You use darkness like a Demon Lord might. For them, it has to be intuitive. As simple as breathing. My control over darkness was trained and honed through combat… but it’s still lacking. Mostly because of this.” He pointed to his hair.
Xinxin blinked. “Because you have hair?” She subconsciously grabbed her own hair, running her hands through it. Was her control over darkness so great because she had long black hair? No, her Sifu’s hair was shorter but his control was greater. Then-
Nero laughed. “No, no. It’s because I’m a Lunar Demon. The silver hair is the tell-tale sign of one. In exchange for lacking complete control over darkness, we have better combat intuition and potential. Mm… to put it in this kingdom’s terms, it would be the difference of an external cultivator versus an internal cultivator.”
Xinxin nodded. “In short… you’re handicapped.”
Nero froze and then scratched the back of his head. “When you put it like that…” He shook his head. “Anyway, unlike me, my sister was born with an innate affinity towards darkness. Even more than my father’s. That’s why she was chosen to be the next Demon Lord and why we were going to perform the ceremony on her sixteenth birthday.”
Xinxin took a sip from her tea and then said, “Go on.”
“As I was saying, I, along with a few others, escorted my sister to perform the rite of passage. We took her to the inner halls of Tartarus to undergo the Stygian rebirth and awaken her full potential. But…” His eyes narrowed. “There were humans lying in wait for us. An ambush.”
“Humans, huh? They wouldn’t happen to be a group of four, led by an arrogant man with golden hair would they?”
Nero blinked and looked up. “How did you know?”
Xinxin sighed. “…Maybe I should have kept them alive.” Unlike her Sifu, she couldn’t steal their memories, only their powers. If she had known that they were involved in the whole mess, Xinxin would have kept them half alive instead.
“Wait. You killed them? But they were Apostles of- Oh. Right. Immortal.”
Xinxin nodded. “Yes. Now, go on? What happened after they attacked?”
Nero sighed. “…We were wiped out and my sister was kidnapped. Not only that, the Apostle made it seem like she was killed. Apparently, the plan was to leave no witnesses and cause a riot, but I managed to live because my sister begged them to spare my life.” He clenched his hands. “That… I will never forget the sight of-“
Xinxin waved her hand. “Humiliation, swearing revenge… I get the gist of it. I’ve been there and done that.”
Well, partially. She never did beat Wang Tian in a fair fight… but she was alive while he was dead, so it kind of counted?
Xinxin shook her head and said, “Why do you need my help?”
“Sorry.” Nero nodded. “I didn’t mean to waste your time. In short, I need you to help me sneak into the imperial palace of Ars Nova and rescue my sister. If not… I’m afraid that the entire continent will become embroiled in war. With the Demon Realm believing their beloved princess was assassinated, and with the Goddess helping the humans behind the scenes, it’s only a matter of time before the world comes to an end.” He bowed his head and said, “Please, Miss Faith! Help me save my sister! Help me save this world!”
Xinxin blinked. “That’s… quite a lot to take in. But… if the Goddess is involved…”
Now that she thought about it, the entire mess seemed exactly like something that Goddess would find amusing. She probably orchestrated the entire event as well.
And then, in the middle of that giant mess, the Goddess had dropped her Sifu. Had dropped Nowun… and tried to place the Fate of being a hero on his shoulders.
“What a selfish bitc- Wait.” Xinxin paused and then looked at Nero. “You said the imperial palace of Ars Nova? The capital of the Northern Empire?”
Nero nodded. “That’s right. I don’t know exactly where, but the Apostles gloated about the Emperor keeping my sister in a dungeon deep below the palace.”
Suddenly, it clicked.
Why Nero seemed familiar, why she recognized the name ‘Eris’.
Xinxin turned to look at Titania.
The elf stared back at her, in the middle of eating a steam bun. She swallowed, suppressing a brief look of delight on her face from eating the steam bun, and then said, “Did you need something, Master?”
Xinxin paused in thought and then turned to look at Nero. “By any chance, have you been working on countermeasures against mana?”
Nero’s eyes widened. “How did you know? I haven’t talked to anyone about Anti-Magic yet!”
Xinxin laughed. “So that’s how it is!”
She understood now. Why Wang Tian left behind that blade, what he meant by clearing her Sifu’s karma.
Xinxin smiled.
It seemed like she’d be meeting her Sifu again sooner than she had thought...
HappyVainGlory
I added a section to the glossary to look at the previous volume's cover in case anyone wanted to see it again. I also added the current volume's cover too, as well as the names for the volumes.
A bit of revelation about what's happening behind the conflict this chapter, as well as the central conflict that our MC got dropped into.
Now, with this chapter over, we finally get to head back to our nameless protagonist!
Things should get interesting from here on... here's hoping I pull it off right.
Thanks for reading and leaving comments! I appreciate them as always.
I'll see you tomorrow. Still not sure when exactly, but I'll make sure to update before the end of the day at least. Hopefully earlier though, but no promises.
|
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"Arranged Marriage",
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"Corruption",
"Dao Comprehension",
"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
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|
The thread of karma connecting Xinxin to her Sifu was tangled and distorted. Though she managed to attach a new one to him in the past… present, his powers and his acts of sending himself and his memories across time resulted in it being becoming just as tangled as the original thread she had.
However, while tangled, she could follow it. With the sword Wang Tian left her… and she should really give it a proper name instead of just calling it by ‘sword’, Xinxin’s connection to her Sifu lit up in the dark void, allowing her to trace it even through time and space.
Still, it was odd. The path that she had to take in order to trace out the karma was long and convoluted, spinning back to the past, the future, the present, and then into the past yet again.
After following it for a while, Xinxin stood at a crossroad. In the void between time and space, the domain of karma that she could enter through a combination of her powers and her sword, the thread she held and used to guide her split apart.
She didn’t know which one she had to follow. All of them were the same… or rather, they all came from the same source, the thread she traced out stretching back to the past. That meant all of them led to her Sifu… but her Sifu wasn’t the same in each one. Since the thread was frayed…
Ah.
So that was it.
If the thread of karma was frayed… then she simply had to collect the pieces. She had to reach the end of the line and then pull it back, weaving the full thread once more. At that point…
Xinxin nodded to herself and then chose to pursue the thread leading furthest back into the past… or rather, her Sifu’s past.
With a slight tug, the darkness vanished. In its place, a gray mist and a silent forest emerged.
“This place,” Xinxin muttered. “I recognize it.”
Not from her memories, but from ‘her’ memories. Those of her previous life, the one with Wang Tian.
It was the Lost Woods, the place where she spent an uncountable period of time in dark solitude.
Xinxin shivered, remembering those memories, and then shook her head. “It won’t happen again.”
Muttering those words to assure herself, she took another look around.
Due to the nature of the Lost Woods, she couldn’t expand her spiritual sense very far. At most, she could see the size of a small clearing.
Realizing that, Xinxin frowned. “This place… What is this place, really?”
Memories from her time in the darkness as well as the ones with ‘Nowun’ as his Faithful Companion showed her that there was at least that dragon here, the fallen divine beast. Yet, to have such a suppressive power to where even she found it difficult to perceive the surroundings… It was odd.
But she didn’t come here for that. While she was curious, Xinxin had more important matters to handle.
She glanced down at the frayed thread of karma around her wrist and said, “Where are you, Sifu?”
Was it by chance, or did her words have an effect? At once, she felt a disturbance in the air. Dark mana fluctuated, enough to send the suppressive atmosphere into disarray, if just for a moment.
Xinxin frowned and then quickly ran towards the source. As she did, she hid herself by imitating her Sifu’s Information Concealment, slowly blending in with the natural energies.
That turned out to be a wise decision.
xxx
Following the disturbance led Xinxin to a forest clearing. It was one that she vaguely recognized. There was a pond nearby, along with a rock to rest upon. In any other time, it might have been peaceful. But at the moment, that was impossible.
Blood stained the surroundings crimson. A corpse, torn apart and scattered lay in the center of the clearing, dyeing the water of the pond a deep scarlet hue.
Xinxin subconsciously gulped. It was a gruesome sight, one that she found disturbing even with all that she experienced. No, it was one that she found too empathetic, similar to when she first experienced ‘death’ in her Sifu’s teachings.
The corpse… while it was in terrible shape, Xinxin could still recognize it. Faint threads of golden hair, pristine skin… It was Aria.
But that wasn’t what caught her eye the most. There was someone else there standing in front of the corpse.
It was a young man with an average appearance and dark eyes. The color was indiscernible, something that could have been brown, black, or a dark shade of red. Either way, they were shining with the glint of madness, insanity.
Still, she could tell who that person was.
“Sifu…?”
The young man immediately turned to look at her.
Xinxin froze and held her breath.
Since this was the past, her Sifu… Nowun should still be weaker than her by a considerable margin. That meant that he shouldn’t be able to see through her concealment. Yet… for a brief moment, Xinxin felt like her Sifu saw right through her.
But that moment passed. Her Sifu shook his head and then raised his left hand, clutching at his skull. He winced and ground his teeth while holding his Faithful Companion in his right hand.
Xinxin stood still, watching. The thread of karma led to him, but it was fraying, slowly winding away. At the same time, the faint golden thread connecting Nowun to Aria melted, losing all its color. In its place, a pure dark line formed.
Nowun knelt to the ground and roared. Pain, agony, regret. It was the sound of someone who had crossed a line he didn’t know how to return from.
Xinxin wanted to move forward. She wanted to reach out and hold him, tell her Sifu that it was alright. That this wasn’t his fault. That the Goddess trying to bind him to her will caused him to act like this. That his powers were rebelling against her own, causing him to lose himself.
But she didn’t.
Her instincts were warning her. Everything inside of her said that the moment she stepped forward would cause an irreparable mistake. That not only what she be harmed, but her Sifu as well.
And it didn’t take much for Xinxin to see why.
The karma around her Sifu… around Nowun was fluctuating wildly, spinning like a hurricane, each thread lashing out as sharp as a blade. His Absolute Memory was trying to sift through and reconcile her Sifu’s scattered karma, but it was being pushed back by the world and the Goddess. Not only that, but her Sifu’s own actions of winding back and forth through time had caused his sense of self to fray.
In that state, rather than a person, he was an instrument of power. A being moving of pure instinct rather than reason. And that instinct was to absorb. To take in everything and anything around him.
Xinxin stood still.
Suddenly, a fountain of darkness erupted from Nowun, spreading out like a black sea. At the same time, it was contained. It covered the clearing and no further.
Of course, that meant that it reached out to Xinxin as well.
Her eyes widened and she quickly retreated, being careful not to draw her Sifu’s attention.
The darkness converged upon the clearing and then fluctuated, spreading chaotically with countless waves crashing in upon itself. And then it faded, vanishing in an instant as if it was just an illusion. When it did, the clearing returned to normal and Xinxin could see within it once more.
Carefully, Xinxin approached the clearing again.
Her Sifu was still standing there. However, the blood and Aria’s corpse was nowhere to be seen.
The act was familiar. It was something that she did herself. Realizing that, Xinxin frowned.
“This cultivation technique Sifu taught me…”
Could it be that it was actually a fragment of his own power? It was too similar, what he just did and how she instinctively used her own strength.
While she couldn’t tell for sure, Xinxin felt like her Sifu had absorbed Aria and her abilities completely into his own. A greedy act that left nothing behind, only the memories.
Did he realize what he did?
Nowun clutched his head, a pained look on his face. He stared at the place where Aria’s corpse had lain with wild eyes. Then, he turned on his heel and ran, sprinting out of the Lost Woods.
Xinxin’s eyes widened and she quickly gave chase, dashing after him.
Nowun ran without stopping, and his speed gradually picked up pace. Subconsciously, he drew on the power of wind to increase his speed.
Seeing that, Xinxin frowned and did the same.
Still, seeing her Sifu run so wildly and with such a pained look… She wanted to call out to him. But she couldn’t. Not without risking losing him entirely.
Instead, Xinxin cursed that Goddess. She brought him here under the false pretense of allowing him to do as he wished, yet she tried to force a destiny upon him as well, making him an actor in her play. A hypocrite of the highest order.
If it wasn’t for the fact that Xinxin wasn’t strong enough yet, she’d personally tear open the path to reach that Goddess and smack her across the face.
But she wasn’t, so Xinxin had to endure.
Nowun ran across the Ancient Forest and headed towards Yggdrasil. It seemed like some semblance of his mind had returned, since he was moving with a purpose instead of wildly.
Xinxin frowned. There was something about the situation that bothered her… but she couldn’t remember why.
Nowun came to a stop in front of the World Tree.
Xinxin did as well, a few paces behind him.
The air was silent. In this time, the elves had already been destroyed and conquered, leaving only the empty shell of Yggdrasil and Alvheim behind.
Xinxin bit her lip.
Nowun shook his head and then strode forward, walking through the empty halls. Information Concealment activated and erased his traces, preventing any outsider from knowing he was there.
But Xinxin could still see him. The ties between them were too strong to be hidden with just that.
The Master and Disciple pair that no one could perceive walked through Yggdrasil in silence.
Corpses of elven warriors were strewn haphazardly across the halls. Mostly male, though an occasional female could be seen. Like Aria’s corpse had been though, none were in complete shape.
Nowun clutched his head as he walked, as if fighting against something inside of himself.
Xinxin felt her heart drop at seeing that, but kept quiet.
She was starting to remember now. What happened here, what was to happen next, as well as her role to play in order to resolve this thread of karma.
They arrived at the inner chamber of Yggdrasil. A holy sanctuary with roots forming the walls, wrapping around almost like a womb. And then, in the center of it, a swirl of roots wrapped around a glowing orb, pulsating with a soft green light.
Xinxin stood off to the side and watched the events unfold.
Nowun faced off against the wooden guardian. A young girl’s cries echoed as he used Dragon’s Grasp to forcibly bind the blade at the heart of Yggdrasil. Roots writhed as Hraesvelg called out to the elven warriors who had fallen, bringing them all back to life to stop Nowun.
And then it happened. The point where her past and present selves met.
Nowun’s Faithful Companion… the Xinxin who lived the isolated life and died an ignoble death as a sacrifice did everything she could to try and save him. But she was too weak. In her current form, she was just a soul. While she inhabited something that could rival legendary weapons, it was still a stick at its core.
As a result, she began breaking apart. Both her soul and her existence. But… before she did, she tried her best to help him. To sever the Destiny binding him and grant him the strength to step out on his own.
It wasn’t enough. But… she wasn’t alone.
Emotions spreading out through shared karma. A silent wish from her past self for anyone and anything to help the one who pulled her out of the darkness.
Feeling that, Xinxin let out a wry smile. “In the end, that tough act was just an act, huh?”
She remembered the cold woman who stood before her when she failed to defeat Alain and then shook her head. Xinxin drew her sword and then slashed the remaining threads binding her Sifu to the world.
The moment she did, Nowun grabbed the sword. And then… her past self vanished. No, rather than vanish, it was more appropriate to say that she had returned to Xinxin properly.
But Nowun didn’t know that. Sensing the lack of his Faithful Companion, he let out a pained roar and then lashed out with the Mana Blade.
As the sword created by the Goddess to maintain the world’s Order, the act caused everything to break down. Time splintered and space shattered. But not only that, since Nowun possessed Chaos already, wielding Order with his Absolute Memory caused his existence to unwind.
He was set free from karma and the world, but his ability tried to force him to remain, to reconcile the memories he had. As a result, his existence began to split apart, slowly splintering across the countless memories he had created.
But before then, and before the world could vanish completely, Xinxin stepped forward.
‘Absolute Memory’ was trying to find an anchor point. His karma was the same, trying to find a connection to latch onto in order to stabilize.
In that case…
Xinxin reached out to him and grabbed his hand.
Nowun’s eyes widened and he turned around, staring at her.
Xinxin smiled and said, “Until we meet again, Sifu.”
He vanished, his Absolute Memory and karma using their connection to send him to the time they first met, to when she found him collapsed on the ground and went to give him a pill to recover.
And then the world collapsed, leaving Xinxin in the void beyond time and space again.
The frayed thread connecting to that part of the past had vanished… no, it had winded back around the other threads, slowly rebuilding the connection.
Xinxin sighed and then followed the next one.
HappyVainGlory
Hoo boy. Got sicker than I thought. Managed to recover in time for the holidays to where I didn't have to lie in bed, but even now I've still got a lingering cough.
The plan was to get this up before the end of the year... but well, here we are.
Anyway, I hope the holidays and end of the year went well for you guys and I wish you a belated happy new year.
Thanks for reading and commenting, and I'll see you tomorrow!
|
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|
The demons needed some time in order to reach their princess, so Xinxin decided to test out the emperor to occupy him. There was something off about him that she wanted to check, so the two goals were aligned.
Her sword cut through the air towards Elio’s neck. It was sloppy, but still faster than an ordinary person should be able to deal with.
Elio’s sword flashed and parried the attack before lashing out towards Xinxin’s heart in a blinding thrust.
She stepped to the side, causing Elio’s sword of light to brush past her.
Elio continued forward, moving with the momentum of his thrust.
Xinxin moved around him, causing the two to switch places.
Elio raised his sword. He frowned and tilted his head. “Is that all you can do?”
Xinxin smiled. “You got some pointers from the Heavenly King, so it’s an honor to get some from me, isn’t it?”
Elio laughed. “Were that the case… That last attack was clearly meant to kill me.”
Xinxin shrugged. “If you die, you’re too weak.”
Elio frowned. “Weak, am I? Then… how about this!” Mana surged, wrapping his sword of light. In an instant, his speed increased and he charged, cutting through the air with a blinding slash.
Xinxin’s quickly brought her sword up to parry. As she did, she regretted not learned proper swordplay.
While Xinxin was able to parry the attacks because she was faster, Elio was clearly more skilled. His strange technique also closed the gap between them.
But that technique…
Xinxin pushed Elio away with her next parry and opened the gap.
Elio raised his sword in front of him and then drew in mana again.
Drawing in mana… drawing in energy from the surroundings?
Xinxin’s eyes widened. “I see… I see! So the Imperial Slash Sifu learned is actually degraded from Yù shān. To think that karma could work like this…”
Nowun learned Imperial Slash from a soldier, and he imparted the attack to her as Faith.
However, Imperial Slash was actually a part of Elio’s swordsmanship… one that Xinxin could see now was a mix of Wang Tian’s own techniques with a few from the Zhan Clan.
Elio frowned. “You Shawn? What gibberish are you speaking?”
Xinxin shook her head and raised her sword again.
Elio’s frown deepened. “Taking me lightly, are you?” He stepped forward and said, “Do not think that you are unbeatable because of your title!” Light gathered around his sword, slowly turning everything dark as the attack drew in every source of light.
Xinxin smiled. “That is a powerful technique… but it’s an imitation.” She raised her sword, emerald light shining around the blade.
Elio swung his sword. A beam of pure white light cut across the throne room towards Xinxin, causing the air to shriek from its speed.
Xinxin swung her sword as well, sending another beam of light across the throne room, this one a pure emerald.
The two beams clashed, and the white light instantly scattered.
Elio’s eyes widened and he swung his sword, barely stopping Xinxin’s attack. He stared at Xinxin and said, “That… how do you know that technique!?”
Xinxin sighed. “Did that guy not tell you? …No, he probably just taught it since he didn’t want it to be forgotten. He was always too sentimental…”
Elio frowned. “Ignoring me again?”
Xinxin checked the progress of her wayward companions. They were… about halfway there. A bit more and it would be time for her to step in and get everyone out of the Empire. But not yet.
Elio narrowed his eyes and then shifted his stance. “If Imperial Slash won’t work, then…” He raised his sword once more. This time, however, instead of gathering mana, he seemed to dissolve within it.
Xinxin frowned. “That…”
Elio advanced again. This time, instead of charging, it was a casual step forward. However, in that single step he closed the distance and swung his sword.
Xinxin’s eyes widened and she brought her sword up to parry.
The blades clashed… but Xinxin didn’t feel any resistance.
A faint wind against her throat was her only warning before the sword of light struck her flesh.
Xinxin leapt back, opening the gap again.
Elio lowered his sword and frowned. “Running away?”
Xinxin shook her head. “I am still considering if you are qualified or not.”
Elio scoffed and then stepped forward. “I’ll show you qualified!”
Once more, he closed the distance with a single step. At the same time, his white sword blurred.
Xinxin focused, carefully watching him. She tried to parry the attacks, but any that her sword touched were instantly rerouted, curving to strike her like snakes.
Thankfully, none of them were strong enough to break through her skin… but it was still troublesome.
Emperor Elio… he was far from the strongest that the Goddess had to put into play. If Xinxin intended to follow her Sifu, she would only be a burden as she was now. Raw power only went so far… Wang Tian tried to show her that a long time ago. Comprehension and skill was needed to make use of strength.
However, in front of her, Xinxin had the perfect opportunity.
Emperor Elio had learned from Wang Tian and created his own style from those teachings… however, they were also based on the Zhan Clan’s techniques. Then, in that case, Xinxin should be able to learn them… or at least get some understanding of what she was doing wrong.
A slash.
A parry.
A thrust, a step, another slash.
Elio swung his sword and said, “For the Great Heaven Seizer, you’re not very skilled at using a sword!”
Xinxin’s response was to slash out again. Then, after a few more clashes, she smiled.
Elio’s eyes widened and he stepped back. He cautiously raised his sword, waiting for Xinxin to move.
Xinxin’s smile widened. “I must thank you.”
“…What for? Not ordering my guards to chase down your servants? Humoring you with this farce of a duel? Showing face to you because of the Heavenly King?”
Hm. It seemed that the Emperor wasn’t as dumb as Xinxin thought. He at least realized that she was distracting him.
But…
“Not quite.” She swung her sword. At the same time, she imitated what Elio had done.
Drawing in spiritual energy into the body and then imbuing it into every fiber. Moving like a river and following the flow of energy. It was a style that moved with nature, but when one decided to oppose nature, move out with explosive force.
A combination of hard and soft blows, slow and fast strikes. Not as elegant as Wang Tian’s swordsmanship, but pragmatic.
Xinxin’s body started to blur, similar to how Nowun used Information Concealment. At the same time, power rippled through her body.
…It wasn’t a true sword style. Xinxin still needed to properly learn the techniques, but with the underlying principle now…
Xinxin stared at the stream of energy going through her body and said, “I never realized that this was the purpose of Yù shān. I have to give you some credit for that.”
Elio frowned. “…Is that what you wanted to discuss? Swordsmanship? If so, there are plenty of more peaceful ways to do so.”
Xinxin was quiet, instead carefully surveying Elio.
It might have seemed unnecessary and meaningless, an attack done out of whimsy… but Xinxin was carefully considering Elio as she clashed against him.
In pure strength, Xinxin could overpower him. She had enough versatility that she was confident in defeating him if she didn’t hold back. Yet, he was skilled enough to match her attacks and intelligent enough to devise a means to merge mana and cultivation, as well as see into the true purpose of her clan’s techniques.
He was also interesting.
From the viewpoint of the elves he was evil, sending out his army to ruin them in every way possible.
From the viewpoint of the demons, he committed an unforgiveable sin in killing their princess… but the truth was that he kept her safe and away from harm. Even entertained, judging from the books that she saw.
And then there was the fact that the Goddess could not bind him with Destiny and the pure white thread that lead off into the distance…
Xinxin dismissed her sword.
Elio let out a sigh and did so as well. “Finished?”
“You are a strange man.”
“Me strange? You’re the one who-“ He stopped and let out a sigh. “No. I suppose one as old as you would be a bit eccentric.”
Xinxin felt her eye twitch but decided to let the slight pass. This time.
Elio walked back to his iron throne and sat down. As he did, he stared at Xinxin and said, “But me, strange? That’s a first. Most would call me cruel or ruthless.”
Xinxin shrugged. “That is the case for most people daring to deny the heavens.”
Her Sifu, Wang Tian, the countless cultivators… everyone that sought to reach the level of the Goddess did so on a mountain of bones and corpses. It was a necessity, designed that way by the Goddess herself.
“Deny the heavens?” Elio looked amused. “Do I look like that?”
Xinxin crossed her arms and said, “If not, you would have allowed the Goddess to bind you with her golden thread of Destiny… but you are opposing that, are you not?”
Elio nodded. “I should have expected the Heaven Seizer to see through my plans.” He leaned back and smiled. “Well? Does that mean you’re open for cooperation?”
“…That depends on you.” Xinxin drew her true sword, her ‘other self’ that had been forged into a weapon beyond mortal reckoning. A simple stick appeared in her right hand before twisting, turning into a sword of pure darkness. She raised it and said, “You walk a different path… a new route. As ‘he’ has already gone ahead, I will judge if it is enough to reach the Goddess that treats this world as her play.”
Elio glared and summoned his sword. He stepped off his throne and said, “Hubris will be your downfall, legendary immortal or not.”
“I should say the same to you.” Xinxin pointed her sword to the ground, taking a loose stance.
Elio raised his sword and focused. His very being seemed to shift and then the thread of white light around him erupted. “…I won’t allow you to stand in my way. If you prevent me from saving her, then…” He charged, swinging his sword. “I don’t need you!”
A simple, horizontal slash. Predictable and straightforward.
Xinxin frowned and moved to parry it. But the moment she did, she froze. “This…? A fragment of a law? No, of Dao?”
It was like Wang Tian’s path but different. A different road and method, but the same result.
Xinxin couldn’t move. She was forbidden to. Rather than a domain, it was willpower enforcing a phenomenon onto the world. Rather than enlightenment and comprehension, it was turning the internal into the external, forcing a phenomenon to occur. Writing a new law into existence.
Because of that, Xinxin couldn’t dodge.
Elio’s sword reached her. The blade of white light thrust towards Xinxin’s heart, moving to pierce it… and stopped.
That time Elio froze. His eyes scanned the empty air and he muttered, “Physical Resistance? And the level… there isn’t one? How is that-“
Xinxin swung her sword. A quick slash, wreathed in chaos and darkness.
Elio was overextended. As he stood, he couldn’t hope to parry. Yet, the moment Xinxin’s sword cut towards his neck, Elio’s blade blurred and moved to block it. Still, the force of the blow sent him staggering back.
Xinxin tilted her head when she saw that. “You… Hm. They called Wang Tian a heaven-sent genius… but you’re different.”
If Wang Tian was a once in a thousand year prodigy, the one before her was someone that would probably never come around again.
Emperor Elio… perhaps she was mistaken. While he didn’t have the heaven’s mandate, he had something worthy of respect.
“To unify the fragmented path before the Goddess’s new Order with the current mana and world in order to reach a new height… It is respectable.”
It was a path that followed the road of cultivation but also took advantage of mana. A combination of the two, using the principles of cultivation but with mana as the energy and combining both with unyielding will.
Elio wiped a bit of blood from his mouth and said, “I am honored… but also annoyed. If you don’t want to cooperate, then do you intend to fight? Should I take your actions as the whole of the Sun Kingdom?”
Hearing that, Xinxin sighed and said, “Unfortunately, that is your flaw.”
He was young. Like her past self, he was still young and naïve… no, she should say, like Wang Tian’s past self. Brash, and thinking that a sword could solve everything, charging forward without looking back.
…Hm. Her Sifu was like that too… Maybe that was why she felt empathy?
“Flaw?” Elio narrowed his eyes.
Xinxin nodded. “You can’t beat her like this. Even if you believe following her orders will create an opening, you will not be able to seize it.”
She understood what Elio’s plan was now. In quiet, he was honing his blade, sharpening it for that fatal moment to cleave free and challenge Destiny. Yet, while he could deny it, he hadn’t thrown it off. That could be seen by how the thread still wrapped him.
Elio was trying to break free by following the flow to slacken it… but that was only adding more thread to hang himself.
“…I don’t believe it.” Elio raised his sword. “You… I don’t believe you, either. Heaven Seizer, immortal… if you truly are one and you say that I can’t face the goddess… then I’ll defeat you and become someone strong enough to do so! This is my oath, my creed! Grant me this promised victory!”
White light shone around him before twisting with darkness and gold. A means to unify opposing elements to gather strength through paradox.
But.
“Shallow.”
The light wrapped around Xinxin and shattered. At the same time, she absorbed it. The moment she did, Xinxin felt something become complete inside her. But for the moment, she ignored it.
Elio coughed up blood, collapsing on the ground. He pierced the ground with his sword, using it as a crutch to push himself up. But in a few moments, that faded away, sending him falling once more.
Xinxin sighed when saw that and muttered, “Why do I keep meeting helpless individuals?”
Titania, Nero, and now Elio…
It wasn’t the goddess’s design, but it seemed like her karma was drawn to it.
…Hm. No, come to think about it, that was probably true from the moment her Sifu picked her up. After all, he had been hopelessly helpless in the beginning.
Xinxin sighed and turned around to leave.
Her companions had reached the girl now… and it looked like she’d need to pick them up, judging from the pile of corpses stacking up in the hallway and the flood of soldiers charging down.
Xinxin glanced at Elio and said, “Prepare yourself. There will be a time when I return. When I do, if you still plan on facing that Goddess, we will truly talk of cooperation. But until then…” She drew her blade and cut the golden thread around him.
Elio’s eyes widened. “This…!”
Xinxin started bending space, intending to quickly go in and grab her companions… and then she paused. “Ah. I forgot to mention. I will be taking that demon you kept in the basement. If you have any resignations or protest, come place them at my sect.”
“Heaven Seizer, you-“
Space shattered and Xinxin appeared in the room where the demon princess imprisoned.
Corpses littered the ground and blood stained the walls. At the same time, Imperial soldiers charged into the room.
Before anyone could react, Xinxin pulled Titania and the demons close to her before bending space again.
When everything settled, the group appeared back in the Sun Kingdom.
Xinxin planned on heading back to her pagoda, but since she couldn’t quite make it, she latched onto the nearest familiar presence.
The demons landed on the floor behind Xinxin. Titania appeared on her right side. All of them groaned, nauseous from the sudden trip through space.
But Xinxin ignored them. Instead, her eyes were drawn to the familiar presence she used as an anchor point to travel to.
Erik froze, in the middle of taking off his shirt.
Behind him, laying on a lush bed with violet sheets, there were two girls… no, two young women. One, a tomboy with short brown hair, the other, an elegant girl with long blue hair. Sarah and Mary. And, like Erik, they were also in the middle of taking off their clothes, the sash around their robes unfastened and fluttering to the ground.
Xinxin sighed and immediately spun on her heel. “I will not question what you three do in your spare time… but for now, find a place for my guests to stay for a while. I have other matters to attend to.”
Erik muttered something about Xinxin being unreasonable, but at that point she wasn’t listening any more.
With that settled, Xinxin could focus on more important matters… no, her most important matter.
The world dimmed, replaced by that odd space of colorful lines symbolizing karma.
Most of them were unimportant, and none of them connected to Xinxin. A few hovered around her, yes, like the dark bond representing how Titania was Xinxin’s Servant, the three blue bonds representing the respect Erik and his girls had towards her… but none of the ones nearby connected to her.
For Xinxin, there was only one thread of karma. And now that she had tied it again… she could follow it.
Drawing the sword Wang Tian gave her, Xinxin cut through time and space, using her karma and feelings as a guide.
Sifu. This time… I’ll find you for sure.
Martial Hero Route – [True End: Faith]
HappyVainGlory
Orz. Right when I was getting off of being sick, everyone around me started getting sick and now I'm sick again. I'm a bit feverish, but I couldn't just let this sit for a while again... I hope it's enjoyable. Not too sure due to how I'm feeling, but it seems at least readable. Thanks for reading and commenting. I won't say I'll see you tomorrow since I'm not too sure what I have that's making me feel like crap, but I'll see you at least once more this week.
|
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|
The nameless man clutched his head. “Tch. I’ll need to work on that soon.”
He managed to hide the traces of that One Tin guy stepping into another realm and using a conceptual attack beyond the world’s limit, but the backlash of it gave him a headache. Even at that moment, it felt like a dagger was piercing his eye, digging into his frontal lobe.
The nameless man sighed and glanced at his surroundings.
Although he had arrived late at night, he managed to find a room in an inn within Heavenspan. While it was in a seedy location, a few alleyways deep into the slums, a show of force was more than enough to stave off trouble.
The room he found himself in was cramped. Rickety wooden paneling, a cracked window, and a moldy mattress. Completely unsanitary for mortals and only barely hospitable for cultivators. Of course, he didn’t have any intentions to sleep, so the quality of the room didn’t bother him too much.
The nameless man shifted his black robe and then walked over to the broken window to peer outside. A brick wall and dark alleyway greeted him. The room he had was on the second floor, so there was a bit of a drop before the ground. Perfect for people with dubious intentions, or those trying to be discreet.
It was still dark, so the alleyway was hidden in shadows. However, the first rays of light weren’t too far away. If he acted now, it would be a mess.
“…Well, let’s try it anyway.”
If his suspicions about what he learned from that One Tin guy was right, as well as the true nature of the girl he took in as a disciple, then a plan C had just popped up, one better than trying to fight his way through the world’s most powerful beings just to open a door.
Still…
“I might as well get everything I can out of this run.”
The nameless man opened his window and jumped out onto the ground below. He controlled his descent with black qi, making him look every bit a villain. Paired with his pale skin and cold eyes, any onlooker would have screamed in terror.
But even if they looked his way, that scene would have never occurred, all traces of his being hidden away from the world itself.
The nameless man focused on the powerful auras emanating in the air. To the citizens of Heavenspan, it was a reassurance. To visitors, it was a warning. But to him, it served as a clear road map to his destination.
“That way.” Muttering those words to himself, the nameless man began walking while going over his objectives. “Kill a few Saints, send those guards on a rampage to disrupt city order, then do a speedrun on the beasts. If I mess up then it’s time for plan C.”
The nameless man tilted his head, cracking his neck, and said, “Might as well go all out then.” A pitch black sword formed in his right hand, laced with pulsing crimson lines. In the next instant, a dark blur shot through the air towards the central palace.
Night was slowly turning into day as the sun’s bright disk began sneaking over the horizon and shining its warm rays. But in spite of that comfortable light, Xinxin put on frosty expression and pointedly ignored Mu Tian as she walked towards Heavenspan’s checkpoint.
“Lady Xian. You must believe me! It was not my intent to do anything untoward!” Mu Tian called out from behind Xinxin. “You are in great danger, and I was acting to protect you!”
Xinxin scoffed, but didn’t react in any other way.
Great danger? Protect? Sure. That could be true. She would place it at about… 70%. However, despite the fact that Mu Tian was acting half-decent now and even went so far as to forsake his name, Xinxin still didn’t like him.
…It was irrational and petty, but that was what she felt.
Xinxin slightly turned her head and gave a sidelong glance towards Mu Tian. Perhaps because he had suppressed his cultivation base again, and because Xinxin had reflexively slapped him with all her might, Mu Tian’s face had a bright red hand print on his cheek.
Despite keeping her glance subtle, Mu Tian noticed. He sped up and tried to walk alongside Xinxin. “You have to listen to me, Lady Xian-“
Xinxin didn’t want to hear him so she picked up her pace. Since they were near the gate, she didn’t do anything unladylike as run, but she took wide enough strides to make her point known.
Mu Tian sighed. “Very well, Lady Xian. But at least slow down your pace so that we can enter together. Even a petulant lady like yourself knows better than to rush off without her guard, right?”
“Well, I would have thought a ‘guard’ would have known better than to act so intimate with his charge, but heaven has given us both plenty of surprises today, hasn’t it?”
Mu Tian sighed again and muttered, “You have no idea.”
“What?” Xinxin rounded on the former Wang scion. “Keeping more secrets from me?”
“But I just- haah. It is nothing, Lady Xian.”
“…It better be.”
The rest of the journey towards Heavenspan’s checkpoint went on in an uncomfortable silence. Xinxin refused to say anything else since she was still irritated at Mu Tian. What was wrong with him anyway? It was two steps forward and three steps back with the guy. Maybe she should just leave him behind after all?
…No. Even if she didn’t like Mu Tian, he was still useful and seemed… somewhat sincere. Not only that, but he was a powerful expert who placed her interests above his own to an irritating degree.
Even if her Sifu could be heartless and leave her behind, she couldn’t quite find it in herself to do the same to Mu Tian.
“Tch.” What was the benefit of having her karma stolen if she couldn’t even sever ties with the one she had disdained for years now?
The pair finally arrived at the doors to Heavenspan’s checkpoint. A single guard stood at the ready. Bamboo armor covered his body while he held a spear at his side.
Was it because he had been out for too long? The guard simply stared at Xinxin and Mu Tian with blank eyes as they approached.
Xinxin smiled and waved her hand. “Hello there! You wouldn’t mind letting us into the city, would you?”
Mu Tian nudged Xinxin’s back and whispered, “Haughty lady, remember?”
Xinxin was startled, but managed to turn that into an impatient glare. “What? Do you dare stand in my, Lady Xian’s way?”
Maybe it was her current appearance, crimson hair and sharp phoenix eyes, or maybe it was her natural disposition, buried beneath the years of being meek and obedient. Either way, Xinxin’s words came out exactly like a haughty lady would speak.
Even so, the guard didn’t react. No, he did react. It was slight, but his gaze focused a bit and he turned to look at Xinxin.
“…Identities?”
“Er-“
At that time, Mu Tian stepped forward and held out a pair of jade slips. “Here you go.”
The guard took the jade slips and observed them for a bit before handing them back. “Very well. Lady Xian and Mu Tian, envoys from the Eastern Plains.” With those lines said, the guard stepped aside. The moment he did, the doors behind him swung open to reveal a place that looked like a barrack.
Cots lined the walls and various guards stood around on standby. However, the moment the doors opened, all the eyes were trained on Xinxin and Mu Tian.
Despite being used to attention, the intense gaze of those guards made Xinxin take a step back.
The sound of a sword being partially drawn caused the guards to look away.
Xinxin glanced back to see Mu Tian with his hand placed over his sword.
The former Wang scion caught Xinxin’s gaze and smiled. Probably to reassure her.
Xinxin scoffed and turned her head away. Still, she appreciated the effort. Not that she would let him have the satisfaction of knowing that.
The guard who let the pair in didn’t react to the exchange. However, he did wait. When the rest of the guards went back to what they were doing and Mu Tian sheathed his sword, the guard said, “Follow me. I will lead the way.”
Without any other warning, not caring whether the two followed him or not, the guard began walking through the room, as well as his peers that were mostly just standing around.
Xinxin quickly walked after the guard. Mu Tian did as well, although he remained behind Xinxin as a man of his assumed station usually would.
The rest of the affair went smoothly. The guard led Xinxin and Mu Tian into the city while the other guards gave them no more attention.
It made Xinxin wonder what was on the jade slips Mu Tian presented, but she decided to let that bit of curiosity be since it wasn’t too important. More likely than not, Mu Tian probably just prepared it with his deep connections in the past. Probably for philandering…
The guard eventually led the pair to another set of doors. After opening it, the guard said, “Enjoy your stay in Heavenspan.” With that said, the guard walked past Xinxin and Mu Tian, returning to his post.
Xinxin frowned at the callous treatment. “Do guards always act like this, Mu Tian?”
“Would they dare to act any other way in front of a noble when they are mere guardsmen?”
“True…” Thinking back to her own clan, the guards usually acted like that when any young master or lady showed up with their entourage. “But didn’t they seem a bit strange to you?”
“Strange?”
Xinxin frowned, trying to figure out what was wrong. After a moment though, she decided it didn’t matter. “Never mind that. First of all, let’s find a proper place to stay for the night… or what’s left of it.”
She stepped forward to cross the doorway onto the main street.
“Ah, wait Lady Xian-“
Xinxin’s foot touched down onto the white marble stone used to pave Heavenspan’s streets. The moment it did, a dozen Saint-level auras pressed down on her.
She gasped and fell to her knees. However, the auras vanished as soon as they came, but not without leaving a faint trace in the air behind as a warning.
Xinxin spun around to glare at Mu Tian.
The currently average-looking swordsman shrugged. “I tried to warn you. The Bai Clan is a bit… domineering.”
“You don’t say?”
Mu Tian walked forward and held out a hand towards Xinxin.
She stared at it for a moment before sighing and grabbing it.
And then a thunderous tiger roar erupted in the air, along with a flash of pure white light.
|
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Xinxin emerged in a familiar place. However, it was familiar in that it was similar to the place she had just left. Tree roots formed the walls, smooth wood formed the floors… It seemed like she was still in the World Tree. No, considering the architecture, it was Alvheim, the city of the elves and Aria’s home.
But unlike the time she had just left, Alvheim here was thriving. While Xinxin didn’t use her spiritual sense for fear of alerting the Goddess and causing her to interfere, she could clearly sense other people somewhere in the nearby area. Not only that, but there was a certain liveliness in the air, one that had been missing when she followed her Sifu earlier.
Xinxin frowned and then took a better look at her surroundings.
She seemed to be in an entrance hall of some sort. There was an elaborate set of double doors in front of her, woven through with ivy and branches, formed directly from the tree itself. Though Xinxin didn’t know exactly who awaited on the other side, from the grandeur of the doors, it was clear that person was probably important.
The main question, however, was why the frayed thread of karma led her here.
She didn’t remember arriving in this place with her Sifu as his Faithful Companion. So why-
Footsteps echoed from behind her.
Xinxin turned around.
It was a young man. Dark hair, an average face, dark eyes… Nowun.
Xinxin noticed that he was similar to her Sifu, but he was also different. Something about the air around him, his demeanor…
Nowun’s eyes flashed with recognition.
Xinxin’s heart fluttered when she saw that. Did she finally find him? Her Sifu?
She was hopeful, happy… and then she saw the faint glimmer of golden threads piercing throughout his body. Not only that, but she saw that the thread of karma she held didn’t lead to him.
Her expression darkened.
Nowun stared at Xinxin for a moment and then said, “You-“
Xinxin shook her head. “You’re not him.”
He looked the same, but he was different. He was Nowun… but he wasn’t the nameless young man that became her Sifu. He wasn’t the one who gave her the strength and drive to seek out her own path.
Moreover… The Nowun standing before her was an empty shell. A puppet bound by the Goddess’s threads of Destiny, moving directly in line with her will.
Before Nowun could say anything else, Xinxin concealed herself and then bent space, quickly taking her leave.
She reemerged at the top of the World Tree, standing atop the tallest branch. After making sure her footing was stable, Xinxin picked up the thread she followed to arrive in Alvheim and then looked around. “Where are you, Sifu…?”
Clouds drifted past Xinxin, and the blue sky surrounded her. The warm sun cast its rays, creating a peaceful atmosphere.
Despite that, Xinxin didn’t relax. Instead, she heightened her focus and stared off into the horizons.
From her vantage point, she could see the land in every direction, the very world itself.
To the north was Emperor Elio’s domain, frosty at the northernmost edge with green plains beneath it, dotted here and there with villages, cities, and fortresses.
To the east was the Sun Kingdom, sprawling out by the sea beyond a desert wasteland. A dot of green and life amid a vast land of death, the result of Wang Tian’s efforts.
And… he would be alive in this time, wouldn’t he? Since he never created her sword, he should still be teaching those brats and acting like an old man…
Xinxin shook her head and kept looking.
To the south, she could see a land covered in darkness. Four towers surrounded a vast Castletown that looked to be made of pure obsidian. The Demon Realm, where Nero’s father was no doubt preparing for war.
And then, to the west, Xinxin saw a vast mountain range, with a peak stretching even higher than her current place at the top of the World Tree. The place where the Goddess’s Apostles and the ones responsible for her mother’s disappearance rested.
Four powers, four domains. But the faint thread attached to her wrist led to none of them. Instead, as she traced it out, she saw that it frayed even further, breaking into three thin lines.
Two of those led to somewhere in the Ancient Forest below while the last… It seemed to lead further north, but it also kept shifting, making it impossible to trace.
Xinxin frowned and then decided to check on the two threads she could immediately determine first. While she doubted that it was her Sifu… she was curious as to what… or who they connected to.
Once again, Xinxin bent space, targeting the ends of the two threads in the Ancient Forest. When she reemerged, she arrived in a forest clearing.
Xinxin blinked, confused for a moment when she saw no one around. And then a silver and gold blur crashed into the ground.
A beauty with silver hair and azure eyes brushed off her white dress and then said, “Hmph. You will never be of any use to him like this, Girl.”
That ‘Girl’ was another beauty, one with long golden hair and emerald eyes. Like the first beauty, she brushed off her dress, a violet one that clung to her figure. After that, she glared at the silver-haired beauty and said, “Like you’re any better, old hag!”
Xinxin recognized the two. Saphira and Aria. Her Sifu’s dragon and the elf that he saved.
But what were they doing here?
“You…!” Saphira narrowed her eyes and then charged at Aria, sending out a wave of white lightning.
Aria swept her hand, sending out a gust of dark wind, and then charged at Saphira as well.
The two elements canceled each other out, but it didn’t stop the beauties from charging at each other.
Aria grabbed Saphira and sent the divine dragon crashing to the forest floor.
Saphira scowled and quickly flipped her over, pressing her to the ground. “You fight dirty, Girl!”
“I like to call it effective!”
Watching the two being so immature, Xinxin sighed and shook her head. It seemed like they were the ones that the threads she saw connected to. Likely a result of the accumulated karma between them and her Sifu-
A faint glimmer of gold.
Xinxin’s eyes widened and she glanced back at the threads connecting to the two beauties. When she did, she saw that there was something wrapping around those threads, around the connections they held to her Sifu, and in turn, to herself.
A thin golden thread, as delicate as a spider’s silk, wrapped around the lines connecting to Aria and Saphira. Not only that, but it seemed to eat into the karma binding the two to her Sifu, to Nowun.
That… was something that shouldn’t be happening. Even if that Goddess was trying to force the two to abide by her Destiny, it wasn’t that easy to subvert the bonds formed by her Sifu and his Absolute Memory. Yet, the evidence of that was clear before her eyes.
Xinxin frowned and followed the golden line back to see who or what it connected to. As she did, she saw that they led towards the hall that she had just left.
Seeing that, she realized why such an event was occurring.
Aria and Saphira… At least the ones in this time. They truly believed that fake Xinxin met was the real Nowun.
How could they be so blind?! Were they idiots? No. Despite acting so immature, she knew better. At least they weren’t foolish enough to be tricked so easily. Yet… they were still being tricked. As for why… Staring at the golden threads, Xinxin saw that there was a faint trace of crimson there as well.
Love and affection. Only… Those two were directing it to the wrong person.
The two… Aria and Saphira seemed to yearn for Nowun so much that they were willing to take the side of the fake who seemed to care for them. Enough that they were willingly blinding themselves to the truth.
Xinxin let out a deep breath and then deliberately turned around, walking into the forest.
After what she saw, she had a feeling she would lash out if she didn’t leave. And a brief walk would let her calm down a bit.
Leaves rustled around her as a gentle breeze passed through the forest.
It was somewhat nostalgic. Being in the Ancient Forest again after all this time… No, it would be the ‘first’ time in this life. At least, if she didn’t count the mad dash just previously when she was following her Sifu.
In any case, the scenery reminded Xinxin of the past when it was just her and her Sifu. Her and Nowun.
Hearing the leaves rustling reminded her of the first time she met her Sifu as well… or rather, their first night together.
Xinxin sighed and then glanced back at the thread connecting to her wrist. There was still that last thread that she had yet to check on. Since the others were Saphira and Aria, by process of elimination, the last one had to lead to her Sifu.
The problem was that she couldn’t really sense where it ended. If she could, she would have used her powers to arrive there in a heartbeat, but she couldn’t.
“…I suppose I’ll have to solve this like an ordinary mortal then.”
Xinxin shook her head and then started walking, slowly winding up the tread around her wrist as she followed it.
The path she took in pursuit of that line was winding and convoluted.
She saw another forest clearing, one stained in darkness and blood. She walked along the edge of the Ancient Forest itself, moving from the northern border to the Empire’s territory and back. She even returned for a moment back to Alvheim, before walking back out towards the Ancient Forest again.
And then the line went slack.
Xinxin froze and glanced at her surroundings.
It was a small trail beneath dense tree branches. The sunlight barely managed to reach the ground, leaving obscured in shadows.
But that wasn’t a problem for Xinxin. Even though it was dark, she could still clearly see and follow the thread of karma wrapped around her wrist. Except… it came to an end.
Xinxin glanced at her wrist, and then she glanced at where the line of karma ended.
“This… Sifu? Are you here?” She called out, just in case.
No response.
Xinxin frowned and lightly tugged at the thread wrapped around her wrist. When she did, it dragged along the ground, moving towards her. Yet, the length of it didn’t change. If anything, it grew longer when she pulled it.
“Hm?”
That… Shouldn’t happen? The connection still existed, so that meant her Sifu was around. But for it to go slack like that as well as the end to seemingly lead nowhere…
Xinxin sighed. “What exactly did you do, Sifu?”
She didn’t know much about how karma worked, but what she had gleaned from Wang Tian’s gift to her as well as her own intuition told her that it should work like that. Karma… if the bonds connecting people were severed, the threads should be spinning around the person, as if spider silk drifting in the wind.
Like the bonds she had seen on Titania in her time.
Yet… The connection between Xinxin and her Sifu was slack, but still connected. That could be seen from how she could still pull some more thread despite the other end leading nowhere.
But how and why was that-
SNAP.
Xinxin’s eyes widened and she quickly glanced back at the thread connecting her to her Sifu. “No… No. This can’t…”
She carefully pulled at it. Maybe she had just been imagining things?
The thread flew towards her, drifting in the wind. Severed.
“Sifu!”
Xinxin threw caution to the wind and used her Spiritual Sense.
He was here. He had to have been here. That was the only reason why the thread could exist in this time. The fact that it just snapped meant that he should still be around. And if he was around, Xinxin should be able to sense him.
The forest. The monsters roaming in the forest. Imperial soldiers. Aria and Saphira. Elves, the guardian spirit in the heart of the World Tree, Yggdrasil…
As Xinxin spread out her awareness, she saw and felt everything in the Ancient Forest and Alvheim. Despite that, she didn’t see the one she wanted to see.
Where are you, Sifu?
She focused. Xinxin didn’t believe that she couldn’t find him. Not when the bonds between them were so strong. Not when she cared so much for him.
Trees, monsters, more trees, elves, demon scouts, imperial scouts.
But no sign of her Sifu.
Xinxin felt her stomach drop.
The bond between her and her Sifu… It couldn’t be severed so easily. Not like that. Even Wang Tian was unable to do so, despite his understanding and mastery of karma. And that Goddess was meddlesome, but from their clash, Xinxin knew that her powers aligned mostly with combat.
Thus, for the line to snap like that… It could only mean one thing.
Either the person on the other end was dead, something impossible considering who her Sifu was. Or… their very existence had vanished.
Xinxin’s heart raced and she shook her head. “No. That… That’s impossible.”
She had followed the karma here, and it had led here, so it clearly existed. Her Sifu’s existence remained. If not, then she wouldn’t have been able to follow it.
…Right?
Yet, despite her attempts to calm herself down, Xinxin felt a growing panic. A seed of fear, forming in her heart. That her Sifu… that Nowun. That the person she cared for above everything else… that he was-!
A surge of power welled up in the distance.
That broke Xinxin out of her thoughts.
She shook her head and said, “Focus, Xinxin. Sifu… he wouldn’t vanish so easily.”
Right. That guy was too stubborn to die and too skilled to disappear.
“So focus. Find out what’s happening here and then go from there.”
Muttering those words to herself, Xinxin forced herself to look at the source of that disturbance and analyze it. Anything to distract her from those doubts creeping into her mind.
The power… it wasn’t mana. It also wasn’t any kind of spiritual or natural energy. Despite that, Xinxin was familiar with it. That sensation… It was divinity. A fragment of Order from that Goddess.
But… Why was it here? No, she knew why it was here. After all, that was the reason for the World Tree. But why would it flare like that, and now of all times?
Before Xinxin could dwell too much on it, another surge of power erupted. Almost as if to challenge the Light of Order, a Chaotic Darkness welled up.
But it was faint. An energy not quite divine, not quite mana, and not quite natural or spiritual. Despite that, Xinxin recognized it as well.
“Sifu!”
At once, her despair and fears vanished.
Xinxin quickly spooled up the remains of the thread connecting her to her Sifu and then leapt into the air, flying towards the source of that Chaotic Darkness.
The moment she broke through the treetops, she could see it.
Up in the sky, hovering amidst a broken tree branch of the World Tree, there was a figure wreathed in shadows.
While she couldn’t make out his features from her current distance, Xinxin could tell with a single glance.
That figure… The one wreathed in shadows. It was her Sifu. Not just Nowun, but her Nowun. The one who fell against the Goddess.
His current state had to be the aftermath of that battle. His powers were flaring out of control and he was acting on instinct.
Xinxin shook her head before starting to fly towards him… And then she noticed that there were a few other floating not far from her Sifu. Familiar faces at that.
Aria, Saphira, and Titania. The elves were flying with wind magic, while Saphira was keeping herself afloat due to her powers as a Divine Dragon.
And they were standing directly opposed to her Sifu instead of at his side.
“Those blind fools!”
Titania she could forgive. In this time, Xinxin didn’t think that the eldest elf princess had much of a connection to Nowun, or any reason to aid him.
But the others…
While Xinxin was cursing the beauties out in her mind, they moved.
Aria and Saphira flew through the air, moving towards the shadowy figure. White lightning crackled around Saphira’s right hand while dark wind spiraled around Aria’s left hand.
The moment they did that, there was a ripple in the thread of karma Xinxin held. The splintered edges connecting her to Aria and Saphira, the shared connection they had… The moment that the two charged at Nowun, it vanished.
The silk-like golden thread absorbed the karma connecting them all and subverted it, binding Aria and Saphira to that fake. At the same time, bright red lines emerged, spiraling around the golden threads and forming a thick cable. A bond that wouldn’t be broken easily, even using the sword Wang Tian left Xinxin.
Seeing that, the irritation Xinxin felt at Aria and Saphira turned to fury.
As the combined attack approached the shadowy figure, the shadows surrounding him parted for a moment. Only an instant. But that brief window was enough for Xinxin to see the man beneath.
Pale skin, long dark hair and black robes. Dark eyes that seemed more crimson than brown.
There was no mistaking it. That was the real Nowun… No. The nameless man who became Xinxin’s Sifu. The one who gave her everything and severed their karma to protect her from the Goddess in that last fight.
And attacking him were the two that he had saved, the ones who should have been his greatest allies other than herself.
Xinxin scowled and swept her hand through the air. Space ripped and she emerged beside her Sifu. At the same time, she glared at the incoming attack and formed a barrier from her powers, the absolute Chaotic Darkness that diametrically opposed the Goddess’s Order of Light.
The lightning and wind spiral vanished, completely erased.
Aria and Saphira froze, hovering in mid-air.
Xinxin ignored them and then reached out to hug her Sifu.
Did he instinctively sense who she was? The shadowy figure turned to look at her and muttered two syllables. “Xin…xin…?”
Hearing that, Xinxin’s heart warmed and she gave him a tender smile. Then she turned to look at Aria and Saphira, her face icy with wrath.
They stared back in shock, unable to speak.
Xinxin… she didn’t know what to say. She was so furious that words couldn’t even come to her mind.
They dared to attack her Sifu. The one who was not only their greatest benefactor, but the one who freed them from the cruel Destiny that sadistic goddess placed on them.
Aria was saved from the fate of the other elves.
Saphira’s mind and consciousness was restored after being forced into madness from having the Goddess’s Brave seduce and then abandon her daughter.
Both were acts that should have given them an eternity of gratitude towards her Sifu.
Yet, they went against him. Not only were they tricked, but they even pledged their allegiance to the fake puppet that Goddess set up to take her Sifu’s place.
Xinxin wanted nothing more than to cut both of them down. Even if this timeline was temporary, one that she would never have to return to, the fact that it existed at all…
In the end, Xinxin decided to leave them be with a single word, filling it with as much venom as she could. “Traitors.”
After that, she pulled Nowun close to her and then drew her sword, tearing through time and space and using its connection to bring her back to her timeline, to the one where her Sect, Titania, and the others were waiting.
The void between time and space, the special dimension where karma guided the way… Xinxin returned to that and then used it to trace her way back.
They remerged in a flash of violet light.
Xinxin glanced around to see that they arrived in her bedroom, the private chambers that Wang Tian had prepared for her where even the Goddess couldn’t easily see through.
Realizing that, Xinxin let out a sigh and turned around to look at her Sifu, a bright smile on her face.
And then he lashed out, grabbing her throat with his left hand. “You… are strong.” The shadows surrounding him had faded, revealing his true form. But even so, he wasn’t quite himself. Madness flickered in his dark crimson eyes and his voice came out in a rasp. “Your power… I will take it.”
Darkness flared along his arm, racing towards Xinxin and trying to devour her.
Xinxin flinched… But nothing happened.
She frowned and then realized why.
Her Sifu had been wounded from fighting against the Goddess. His final attack was something that even the Goddess called crazy, so the aftermath of it must be severe. As a result, Xinxin who was even stronger than when they had last met, was stronger than her Sifu.
But knowing that didn’t bring her any happiness. Instead, her eyes blurred as she stared at her Sifu’s face.
He… Wasn’t entirely human any more. Having risked everything in the fight against the Goddess, what was left… The one holding onto her was just a hungry ghost. A preta that was trying to fill in the missing pieces with whatever it could.
Tears ran down Xinxin’s face and she shook her head. “My Sifu…”
Her Sifu’s gaze flickered and he winced, clutching at his head with his right hand. “You… Argh.”
Xinxin’s eyes widened.
That… He recognized her. Despite losing his human form… Despite turning into a Preta, a hungry ghost… He was still there. Somewhere, a lingering sentiment remained.
Was it because of his Absolute Memory? Was it their karma?
Xinxin didn’t know… But she knew there was a chance. A chance that she could get her Sifu back.
And to do that…
Xinxin took a deep breath and then stared into her Sifu’s eyes. She smiled and said, “Do as you wish, Sifu. If this will help you return to normal, then I…”
She remembered the past. The memories accumulated across two lifetimes and countless time loops.
Being taken out of the Lost Woods.
Being scolded and reluctantly taught.
Being saved, saving him…
“…I’ll accept whatever you decide to do.”
Her Sifu stared at her, his eyes uncertain. Recognition, regret, guilt, madness…
And then he tightened the grip in his left hand and pinned Xinxin to the ground.
Darkness flared, and then Xinxin’s soft voice echoed in the room, twisted in pain and agony.
Volume 2 - SentimentsEnd
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"Corruption",
"Dao Comprehension",
"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
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"Fated Lovers",
"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
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"Multiple POV",
"Multiple Timelines",
"Multiple Transported Individuals",
"Past Plays a Big Role",
"Personality Changes",
"Skill Assimilation",
"Time Manipulation",
"Transplanted Memories",
"Transported into Another World"
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}
|
Wang Tian sighed. “Even now I can’t erase the karma of the past.” The heavenly prince watched Xinxin from a distant mountain peak.
The young girl that had become a heaven-defying beauty stood in the pagoda balcony and focused on the jade slip Wang Tian had given her. Her delicate face scrunched up in concentration, those soft brows furrowed in thought.
A familiar sight, although she wouldn’t remember it.
Wang Tian sighed again. He held his hands behind his back, standing there as a breeze blew through the mountain top, billowing his azure robes and long black hair like a lonely hero.
He stared up into the blue sky and muttered, “The heavens gave me a second chance, but everything is different. Is this my punishment? To never have her favor again?”
There was no response, but then again, he wasn’t expecting one.
Wang Tian stared at Xinxin again, regret filling his heart. After a few more moments, he turned away from the heaven-defying beauty and shifted his gaze elsewhere. More specifically, he turned his gaze to the ruined Zhan Clan Grounds.
Even so far away, it was possible to see the destruction wrought upon the once peaceful town. The towering Emerald Pavilion had fallen, the Jade Mountain had lost its color… and countless homes were collapsed.
But that shouldn’t have been the case.
“The invaders attacked much more ferociously this time, and not even a bird was spared. Could this be the ripple effect?”
He started training earlier and sped up his advance as early as he could. Now… everything was different. But that didn’t mean he had to just watch.
“Sifu Guilao, was it?” Wang Tian muttered.
A person that shouldn’t have existed, that didn’t exist in his memories.
Bearing that thought in mind, Wang Tian left the mountain peak, vanishing into the air.
Time passed by at a rate both leisurely and frantic. For the members of the Wang Clan, word had spread of their heavenly prince valiantly charging in to save his betrothed after the Zhan Clan’s downfall and offering her a home within his personal mountain peak and villa.
While no one had been there to confirm it, there were rumors of her beauty spreading about by the few members of the clan who managed to catch a glimpse of her within the morning light. In those rumors, she was described as a heaven-defying beauty, like a fairy descended from the immortal realm.
On hearing that, while there were many jealous women, overall the clan was excited that their beloved prince would have someone like that at his side. A match made in heaven, they were called. With Wang Tian’s heaven-defying talent, only a beauty as heaven-defying would be fitting.
The elders made thorough preparations for the date of the wedding. Invitations were spread throughout the Xia dynasty, even to the old legends quietly cultivating in their caves. The finest tailors were hired and put to work crafting wedding dress that wouldn’t disappoint Wang Tian’s betrothed.
It was a huge affair. Since news had also spread of the Zhan Clan’s downfall, the fact that the Wang Clan’s latest prodigy would be taking the daughter of the Zhan Clan’s leader as his wife made countless old patriarchs gnash their teeth in regret. Many were hoping that the Wang elders would have broken the engagement off, or that Wang Tian himself would have refused it. A powerless beauty with the ancient bloodline of the True Wood physique… even if it had been centuries since another had emerged after the Zhan Clan’s founder, if there was a chance that it could resurface in a clan, that would have been worth accepting a young girl who had nothing else to her name.
In that way, with the entire Xia dynasty anticipating the wedding, two years passed and it was a week before the date of the wedding.
The Wang Clan’s central city, Xian Ni, bustled with activity as travelers, young masters, and elders arrived to make living arrangements for the coming days. The Bai Clan, the Meng Clan, the Qin Clan… various renowned individuals arrived to see the match up of the century. At the same time, experts from famous sects like the Sword Mountain Sect arrived as well.
Merchant stalls hawked their wares at every street corner, trying to garner the bit of profit from the loose pursestrings of the young masters. Skilled refiners and alchemists set up shop soon after hearing that, determined to make their own profit as well.
The ordinary people living in the city, mortals who hadn’t stepped on the path of cultivation, shamelessly followed the sect members around, begging to be taken in as outer disciples.
It was chaos, but a festive one.
And within that chaos, a young woman with skin reminiscent of the moon and long, silky black hair with a hint of green walked through the streets. Staring at the lively atmosphere, she gnashed her teeth.
Beside the young woman was a muscular man in a gray robe. A vicious scar spread from his face down across his body. With a sword sheathed at his side, he carried a murderous aura that kept people at bay.
They were Zhan Yue, who had fled to the Sword Mountain Sect, and Xiong Jie, the senior brother who took her in.
“Damn that Xinxin!” Zhan Yue said. “Why couldn’t she have died along with the others?!”
Xiong Jie grunted and then said, “Watch your words, Yue. Members of the Wang Clan won’t take such disrespect lying down.”
“Hmph.” Zhan Yue crossed her arms. “If they have a problem with it, they can say it to my face.” After that, her face softened and she smiled at Xiong Jie. “Big bro won’t let me get hurt, will he?”
Seeing that, Xiong Jie’s murderous aura intensified and he coldly smiled. “Let them try. It’s been too long since I’ve been able to hone Slaughter.” Saying that, he caressed the sword at his side.
HappyVainGlory
Getting back into the flow of things. Thumbs up to whoever catches the references!
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The moon remained shining beneath the starry sky. Yet, it had moved quite a ways since the time Xinxin and Mu Tian emerged on the Western Plains.
Since the pair were doing their best to avoid attention, they had walked the entire time.
Xinxin was annoyed at that fact. If Wang Tian… or Mu Tian, if she went by his new name, hadn’t decided to go along with her, she would have already arrived at the Bai Clan’s territory.
Then again, if she was alone, she would never have known about the strange occurrences in the Western Territory and would probably have been searching blindly still in the Northern Territories by the Wang Clan…
Xinxin sighed and looked up. When she did, she saw something else besides the almost endless stretch of hilly plains. “A village!” Finally, she could get some rest instead of the endless walking!
“A village?” Mu Tian called out from beside her and looked towards the village. “…It appears so. But Lady Xian-“
Before Mu Tian could say anything else, Xinxin broke out in a sprint.
“Lady Xian!”
“Hmph! We’ve been walking all night and I want a bed! You’re not stopping me, Mu Tian!”
Mu Tian ran after her. Despite Xinxin getting a head start and their cultivation bases being suppressed to the same levels, Mu Tian still managed to catch up. “Could you not be so hasty, Lady Xian?” Mu Tian jogged alongside Xinxin and said, “As your guard, it will be troublesome if someone attacks you where I cannot reach.”
“Yes… but isn’t it more convincing like this?”
“Convincing… ah.”
Xinxin sighed. Even as skilled as that guy was, it seemed that he was lacking a bit in the acting department. Were all men like that, or was it just inherent to Mu Tian? Her Sifu hadn’t been like that, had he?
The village drew near, and Xinxin could make out finer details about it. A wooden fence encircled the entire village, and a large gate served as the entrance. From the looks of it, that was used as a deterrent to robbers and stray beasts. However, the gate was open, its doors slightly ajar, despite it being night time.
Seeing that, Xinxin slowed her pace. Beside her, Mu Tian did the same.
“…I’m unfamiliar with the customs of the Western Plains, Mu Tian. But do villages usually leave their gates open at night?”
Mu Tian unsheathed his sword and said, “No. They do not.”
“Could this be another of those ‘strange occurrences’ you were talking about?”
“Perhaps.” Mu Tian stepped in front of Xinxin and said, “Follow close behind, Lady Xian. Keep your cultivation suppressed, but do not hesitate to release it if danger appears.”
“You don’t need to tell me.”
“True. But I remind you regardless.” That said, Mu Tian walked towards the village gate.
Xinxin followed him.
Reaching the gate, Mu Tian pushed the doors. Despite not putting much force into it, both fell over, crashing against the ground with a thud.
Xinxin flinched and examined the surroundings, both with her eyes and her spiritual sense. When she did, she muttered, “There’s nothing?”
Mu Tian frowned and slowly advanced.
Xinxin did the same. As she did, she hid her hands in her sleeves and formed a small blade from her qi to use at a moment’s notice.
The village was eerily quiet. Despite being deep into night, there should have been some signs of life. The crackling of fire, the soft rustles of breath. And yet, it was absolutely silent, like a land of the dead.
Xinxin and Mu Tian made their way through the village, scanning everywhere they went. Yet, no signs of life emerged. Eventually, they stepped into the village plaza, a wide open expanse that the villages must have used for gatherings and daily activities.
There, Xinxin felt the first hint of something off.
She frowned and looked around with her eyes and spiritual sense.
Empty buildings, dusty roads, abandoned stalls… it was more of the same that they had seen along the way. Yet, Xinxin felt something else as well. The flow of natural energy was normal and abundant, so it wasn’t that. At the same time, there wasn’t a bloody aura or air of resentment that should have been present from a slaughter or fight.
“Strange,” Mu Tian muttered.
Xinxin nodded. “Did you notice it as well?”
“Yes.” Mu Tian was quiet for a moment and then sheathed his sword.
“Mu Tian?”
He shook his head. “There is nothing and no one here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, despite how odd it is.”
Xinxin was still uncertain and kept searching for another few minutes. After that, she was forced to agree. Even so, she kept her blade ready in her sleeves. “So,” she said. “What do you think happened then, Mister Heavenly Revelation?”
Mu Tian’s mouth twitched after hearing Xinxin’s words, but he smoothed his expression and said, “I am unsure.” He turned his head to look at the plaza. “I believed it to be similar to what happened at the Zhan Clan, but…”
“But?”
“There are no corpses.” Mu Tian knelt to the ground and scraped a bit of the dirt. “…At the same time, there is no blood. No resentment. No negative karma.” Mu Tian stood up and brushed his hand against his blue robes. “The natural order remains undisturbed, along with the natural energy in the surroundings. If an expert had appeared here, that would not be the case.”
Hearing Mu Tian’s words affirmed Xinxin’s suspicions. But that only made the strange scenario stranger.
This was a village. Even if abandoned, there should have been some signs of it. Yet, everything was untouched, almost as if everyone had vanished in an instant. Furthermore, the flow of natural energy was completely undisturbed. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary-
Wait. Nothing?
Xinxin partially unsealed her cultivation and began absorbing the natural energy.
“Hm?” Mu Tian turned to Xinxin and said, “Do you have an idea?”
Xinxin nodded. “I think so. If this is my Sifu’s doing… it might be a test for me.” She remembered the manual her Sifu gave her. From nothing came all of creation, and all of creation returned to nothing.
Then, if there was nothing out of the ordinary… what was extraordinary must be hidden within that.
Xinxin closed her eyes and cycled the surrounding energy through her body and into her dantian.
At first, nothing out of the ordinary occurred. It followed the proper route into the black core within her dantian and was torn apart, ruthlessly assimilated to her growing pool of energy. But after a few minutes, that changed.
Hostility. Anger. Despair.
A flood of negative emotions and fragments of memories filled her mind.
“Kuh.” Xinxin coughed and bent over. Glancing at the ground, she saw a few specks of bright crimson on the dirt before her. At the same time, her vision began fading, replaced by different scenes.
A woman beautiful beyond words. A tree that towered into the heavens. A forest filled with endless white mist.
And then darkness. Solitude.
In a place that no one could reach, in an area no one remembered. There a hand reached out to her.
A flood of warmth erased the darkness.
Xinxin gasped and opened her eyes that she didn’t realize had closed.
Mu Tian was standing in front of her, his hand holding her right arm and sending qi through her meridians. His average appearance had been dispelled, and the handsome heavenly prince admired by all reappeared before her. However, the usual calm in his eyes was gone, replaced by a frigid wrath. His cultivation base was unsealed, revealing all the majesty of a Saint, and his eyes had turned a glacial blue along with it staring intently at Xinxin’s wrist.
Seeing him so serious, Xinxin couldn’t help but smile. “What happened to being a humble swordsman, Mu Tian?”
Mu Tian shifted his gaze towards Xinxin.
Was it because of the physical contact, or because Mu Tian was sending his energy into her body? Either way, for a brief moment she felt a glimmer of regret and concern in her heart. At the same time, she caught a glimpse of a woman who looked similar to herself, yet different. A heaven-defying beauty, yet one that had not been trained. A mortal.
Before Xinxin could make sense of what she experienced, Mu Tian let go of her arm.
“Xinxin.” Mu Tian’s voice was somber. He also hadn’t suppressed his cultivation. “Who was the last person who grabbed your wrist?”
Xinxin scoffed and turned her head, causing her currently crimson hair to shift like wisps of flame. “What, jealous?” She stared at Mu Tian from the corner of her eyes and frowned. “You don’t own me or get to decide who or what I do, Mister One Tin.”
“You do not understand. That-“
“You don’t understand!” Xinxin crossed her arms and turned to face Mu Tian. “I was beginning to think that you might be a half-decent person, but it looks like you just can’t let our betrothal drop, can you?”
Mu Tian shook his head. “It is not that.”
“Then what is it?!”
Mu Tian was quiet.
As the silence drew on, Xinxin’s patience grew thin. Just when she was about to burst and yell at Mu Tian, he let out a long sigh.
“Xinxin.”
“What?”
“…Someone has claimed you.”
HappyVainGlory
Thanks for reading, everyone! Exciting reveals upcoming! ...Probably? To be honest, this arc has gone on longer than I thought it would... but hopefully the setup pays off properly later. It will all make sense in the end! Maybe! Hopefully? :Sweat:
|
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"title": "No One’s Story - 3:23 – Karma – III",
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"Amnesia",
"Arranged Marriage",
"Cold Protagonist",
"Corruption",
"Dao Comprehension",
"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
"Enemies Become Allies",
"Fantasy World",
"Fated Lovers",
"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
"Interconnected Storylines",
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"Multiple Timelines",
"Multiple Transported Individuals",
"Past Plays a Big Role",
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"Skill Assimilation",
"Time Manipulation",
"Transplanted Memories",
"Transported into Another World"
]
}
|
“Claimed?” Xinxin blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Mu Tian let out a wry smile. “It seems that you are not the only one who disdains the thought of being with me.”
Xinxin glared at Mu Tian. “Stop speaking like some old master and tell me, Wang Tian! What do you mean I’ve been claimed?”
“…It is complicated.” Mu Tian sighed. “In this world, karma governs the fates of men, women, and beasts alike. Even the fabled immortals are bound by it.”
“And? You still haven’t answered me.”
Mu Tian gestured towards Xinxin’s wrist. “Normally, living beings are connected to each other through karma, threads born through interaction. These threads, minuscule as they might be, reflect the relations of all living creatures. It is an invisible web that not only ensnares, but guides. A means to lead one to their destiny.”
Xinxin felt a surge of anger. “I don’t need the theory, Wang Tian! Tell me what you mean!”
Mu Tian stared at Xinxin. “Very well. To say it briefly… your karma has been stolen. Sealed away. Taken. The relations that you should have, the interactions you were fated, your future, your past, your present… all of it has been torn away. The supportive web that should bind you has been severed. In its place, an unbreakable bond has been forged, connecting you to another. And that is why I ask, Xinxin. Who is the last person to grab your wrist?”
Xinxin froze. Mu Tian’s words echoed in her mind.
Her karma… stolen? Her relations, her past, present, and future torn away?
“…Y-You must be mistaken.”
She recalled who it was. The only person who had grabbed her wrist was Sifu. Her Sifu. But he wouldn’t do that to her… would he? No, he would. He said as much. But then… but then…?
Xinxin grabbed her wrist and took a step back. “That can’t be. A-and what makes you so certain, anyway?”
Mu Tian stared at Xinxin with a steady gaze. “…It is a complicated answer, but I possess the ability to sense karma.”
“S-So? Shouldn’t you have realized it before now then? How do you know you’re not seeing things?”
“…That is because your karma had not changed until this point. No.” Mu Tian shook his head. “It had changed, but remained essentially intact. Yet now…” Mu Tian stared at Xinxin. “…Was it your Sifu? Is this the price to pay for your strength, Xinxin?”
Xinxin couldn’t answer. However, those words… ‘price’. A cost. The strength she possessed now, the words her Sifu had given her… was this what he warned about?
Severed from all of her karma and bound only to him. That was-
“A karmic anomaly.” The words echoed fell unbidden from her lips.
Mu Tian nodded. “Yes. The one who could do this to you… that person could only be called as such. Interfering with the order of nature could not be done by anyone else.”
A headache. Xinxin felt something in her mind crack at that realization. At the same time, she felt… odd. Her cultivation base became unsettled, the black core in her dantian sending out waves of frantic energy. With that, her knees became weak, and Xinxin staggered back.
“Xinxin!” Mu Tian reached out to grab her. “Let me-“
“Don’t touch me!”
Mu Tian froze in his tracks. “Xinxin-“
She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I… I’m fine. It’s… probably just a side-effect from finding out what happened in this village.”
“Hm? You know what happened?”
Xinxin nodded. It was a forced change of topic, but she felt that dwelling on her Sifu and her karma would lead her down a path of no return, so she chose to avoid it for the moment. “Yes,” Xinxin said. “The negative energy and resentful memories had been hidden within the natural surroundings. If you absorb some, you should be able to figure it out as well.”
Mu Tian frowned but did as Xinxin suggested. Whether because he was more adept as a Saint, or because he possessed a stronger will than Xinxin, Mu Tian was unscathed by the flood of resentful memories.
He remained silent for a moment before saying, “What did you learn, Xinxin?”
The heaven-defying beauty frowned and tried to piece together the fragmented memories. “…There was a black-robed man. He… failed at something. Trying to reach someone… a woman? And I think there was something about an… Immortal Door?”
Mu Tian’s expression darkened. “So it is the same, then.”
“Do you know something?”
“…Possibly. But if that is true…”
Xinxin frowned. “Wang Tian. Tell me.”
“It is Mu Tian, Lady Xian. And in any case… if your Sifu is pursuing the one that I am thinking of, the entire Xia Dynasty will soon be overturned.”
“What? How?”
Mu Tian shook his head. “There are only two ways to reach ‘that person’. One is through the Immortal Door and obtaining a ‘path’. The other is slaying the four divine beasts to forcibly engrave a path onto the world.”
“Four divine beasts…” Xinxin muttered. “Do you mean the four guardians?”
Mu Tian nodded. “Yes. And if that is true…” The former Wang Scion turned to look in the distance. “There is no doubt to his location.”
Xinxin followed Mu Tian’s gaze. While far in the distance, she could still make out the city’s towering outer walls. “Heavenspan?”
“Indeed.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Xinxin turned around, flicking her sleeve as she did, and said, “Let’s go.”
Mu Tian smiled. “And what happened to resting in a proper bed?”
“Hmph. Rest can come when we reach the capital. The longer we’re away from it, the higher the chances are of arriving in the middle of a massacre.”
Mu Tian’s smile faded. Staring at Xinxin’s departing back, he muttered, “You know that to be true and still pursue your Sifu?”
Xinxin glanced back. “Did you say something, Mu Tian?”
“It is nothing, Lady Xian.”
“Then hurry up!”
“…Remember to suppress your cultivation, Lady Xian. The Bai Clan will not take kindly to foreign Saints suddenly appearing in the middle of their city.”
“Whatever you say, Mu Tian…”
Staring at Xinxin’s energetic march, Mu Tian couldn’t help but frown. Despite the long night and vast distance they had walked, she remained unfazed. That fatigue she had shown earlier was gone, as if just an illusion. Did the thought of reuniting with her Sifu motivate her that much? No, was the bond that Sifu forged so strong?
Mu Tian gazed at Xinxin’s wrist.
It was invisible to her. Even if she possessed the combat prowess of a Saint and enough energy to be considered one, she was still naïve and lacked comprehension. Although, in fairness, most other Saints would not be able to see it as well, only feel it.
Mu Tian… as Wang Tian in the past who had forced his way beyond that Immortal Door as well as slain the four beasts, was the exception. In confronting that ‘Goddess’ in the higher realm, he gained a deeper understanding of the world’s truth, of the ‘Order’ she established.
With that understanding, he gained the ability to perceive karma and sever it. However, for Mu Tian, breaking even a single thread would result in a year of recuperation to restore his cultivation. To sever every single thread connected to Xinxin… Wang Tian couldn’t even begin to imagine the comprehension, strength, and energy needed to do so.
And then there was that remaining thread to consider, wrapped around Xinxin’s right wrist.
Karma came in various colors. Gold for good fortune. Red for affection. Yellow for friendship… there were as many colors and shades as there were the types of interactions between living beings. Yet, in all of Wang Tian’s studies and travels, he had never seen a clear thread.
The one around Xinxin’s wrist was nearly invisible if not for the chaotic fluctuations emanating from the thread and revealing its silhouette. Not only that, but unlike a tidy loop, that thread was knotted in a haphazard way, making it impossible to tell where the end and the beginning started or stopped.
Was this ‘her’ involvement? The one responsible for Wang Tian’s death in his first life, the one that enticed his comrades with the promise of ‘ascension’…
“That Goddess… did she do something?” He muttered.
He recalled that person who greeted him upon carving his path, his Dao onto the world.
An indescribable beauty with cold apathy in her eyes. A Goddess who saw him as a curiosity rather than a person, who observed with the eyes a child might have for an insect before crushing it out of boredom.
Mu Tian glanced at Xinxin’s back, the one who had changed so much from his memories, and recalled the words of that Goddess.
Ooh! I didn’t think anyone could reach me without my help! Congrats for being the first, but your story is kind of boring so… try again.
He muttered those last words to himself.
Try again. That was what the Goddess told him before she turned his comrades against him and caused his death.
Was this situation his second Heavenly Tribulation? Or was everything an illusion, a heart devil that kept him trapped while he remained kneeling before the Goddess?
…No. With how his Dao had been accepted by the starry skies as well as the Goddess, that couldn’t be the case.
Initially, Mu Tian believed it to be the result of his accumulated karma from returning to the start, but now he saw that it was something else entirely. No, someone else.
Xinxin was still walking in front of him. At the same time, she was unaware of the heavy chains upon her wrist, of the insidious coil that tightly bound her being to another. Unaware of how that bond was slowly corrupting her mind, her body, her spirit.
Mu Tian let out a slow breath and made a decision.
If he failed, not only would Xinxin’s Sifu realize it, but the attention of the Goddess would be drawn to him as well. Mu Tian’s ‘Path’ had yet to be accepted in this time. It would be like using the pathway of nobles while being a commoner. Possible, but with dire consequences when caught.
However… Mu Tian couldn’t accept the fact that Xinxin would become an accessory. That her entire existence would only be to serve someone else.
At that thought, a wry smile crossed Mu Tian’s face.
Indeed, hindsight truly was divine… but enough of that.
Mu Tian reached out to grab the hilt of a sword that did not exist. When he did, time and space seemed to freeze. However, he knew that was an illusion. It was not that they froze, but that he had stepped into a different realm.
The faint threads of karma that Mu Tian saw turned into searing lines of light. Glancing at himself, he saw his own karma, wrapped around him like a vestament. However, that was not his target. Shifting his focus, those threads vanished. Instead, the wavering invisible cord around Xinxin’s wrist grew opaque. If before it was the illusory wisps from heat, now it appeared like a cord of woven glass emitting intense heat eroding any other thread attempting to draw near Xinxin.
Mu Tian clenched his right hand. With it, a sword emerged. Plain, unadorned. It was a blade (sword) in the purest form, one that could sever anything beneath the heavens.
The former Wang Scion stepped forward. He stopped when he reached Xinxin’s side.
She was frozen in mid-stride, unaware and unmoving while Mu Tian was operating in that sovereign domain.
Mu Tian narrowed his eyes and glared at the cord binding Xinxin’s wrist. At the same time, he raised his sword.
One chance. That was all he had, unlike his second attempt at life. If he failed this… no. He couldn’t fail. He wouldn’t fail.
Mu Tian steeled his heart and focused his entire being into one strike-
“Hoh?”
-And then a cold voice echoed in the realm where no one should exist.
Mu Tian turned to look at the speaker… or he tried. However, he couldn’t move. Despite that, he could speak.
“Realm… suppression…?”
It was impossible. He had reached the limits of the world. He was also the first person to do so, the only person to do so. The only one who would be able to bind him like that had to be the Goddess. Yet, the voice that spoke was undoubtedly male.
Footsteps echoed even though they shouldn’t have been able to and a figure appeared from the void, standing in front of Xinxin.
A man. However, it was no normal man. Black hair, cold and dark eyes. His skin was pale and transluscent, almost like he was a ghost. Paired with the black robes that billowed around him like wisps of dark smoke, he appeared like a preta who had emerged from the underworld. A hungry ghost that desired only to consume everything around him.
That man looked around for a bit before glancing at his right hand. There, he clutched what looked like a pitch-black stick. Seeing it, a flicker of emotion crossed his face, but it quickly vanished as he turned to look at Mu Tian.
“How interesting, One Tin. I never knew something like this was possible.” The black-robed man smiled, revealing gleaming white teeth. “I knew that sticking around for a bit longer would be worthwhile. I’ll have to remember to thank you if there’s a next time… not that you’ll remember it even if I did.”
-Move. Mu Tian had to move. That man- no, that preta was someone that wouldn’t be satisfied with a small amount of power.
“And to think that you were with my dear disciple. Did she change her mind about the arranged marriage after all?” The man stepped in front of Xinxin and stared into her eyes. “…No. She still hates you quite a bit. Then why- hm?”
He noticed it.
Before, he must not have realized the control he had over Xinxin. However, when Mu Tian saw how that man’s eyes lit up seeing the karma binding Xinxin, Mu Tian knew that he did now. And since that man knew, it would only take a thought for Xinxin to become nothing more than an object to him. A tool.
“This is-“
“HEAVEN CLEAVING!” Mu Tian roared and put everything he had into a single slash. The path, the sword that he forged with his very being cut through the void.
He knew it instinctively. The man standing before him would destroy the world, would become the source of Xinxin’s suffering in the future.
Thus, before all of that occurred, before the man’s boundless growth could continue any further, Mu Tian had to put a stop to it.
But-
“A conceptual attack? Unfortunately for you, One Tin, I’ve dealt with that before.”
-The sword that should have cut apart everything beneath the heavens failed to pierce even the man’s robes.
Despite all of that, despite Mu Tian’s killing intent, the man didn’t show a hint of malice. Instead, he seemed amused by it all. No, more than that… he seemed somewhat approving?
“Well… she should be fine with you around. At least that Goddess should think twice before acting… though you were a bit reckless this time. I’ll hide that for you, so do your best to distract my disciple until I finish my business, alright One Tin?”
“What-“
The man smiled and waved his hand. With that act, Mu Tian’s sword vanished, time and space returned to normal, and the man disappeared.
At the same time, it meant that Xinxin was moving again. She immediately noticed Mu Tian’s close presence and instintively lashed out. “You creep!”
“W-Wait, Lady Xian-“
Before he could protest, Xinxin had already lashed out and a loud smack resounded.
|
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|
Once again, Xinxin stepped upon the arena. When she did, like with every match, the masked man began to narrate and provide commentary.
Xinxin didn’t pay it any heed. Instead, she stared at her latest opponent. The so-called ‘Madam of Illusions’.
The opponent was a woman with a scarred face. Perhaps to distract from that, she wore a revealing red dress that left nothing to the imagination. Her hair, a silver color from either age or strain, fell behind her in waves.
…With every fight, Xinxin was starting to wonder if every character participating in the tournament were all either eccentrics or scum. Other than the demon, she had yet to see a sane individual participating… and that demon’s sanity had been questionable at best.
“Hmph.” The Madam of Illusions scoffed and crossed her arms under her chest. “A frail beauty unaware of the pains of the world… you made a mistake entering this tournament, girl.”
Xinxin felt a headache. That woman… did she believe that Xinxin had won due to luck, or did she not see the previous fight? Or perhaps she believed in her skills enough to where she ignored Xinxin’s abilities? Either way, it was… irritating.
Was this how her Sifu felt when he went around the Zhan clan in the past? If so… before demanding an explanation from him, she should probably apologize. It was a wonder he could show any restraint at all…
The masked man’s image appeared again. He raised his arm and said, “Begin!”
The Madam of Illusions grinned, a malicious smile, and said, “I will take that body of yours!” With those words, she moved her hands, weaving an incantation.
Xinxin tilted her head. It seemed like the woman was doing something, judging from how the natural energies were shifting. But… nothing was happening.
No, now that she focused, she could sense a weak pressure. A spiritual probe trying to envelop her. Yet, unlike the brand of power that appeared when Xinxin stepped on the arena, that probe was weak. Like an egg cast upon steel.
The scarred woman’s eyes widened and she took a step back. “Impossible!” She pointed at Xinxin and said, “You… you do not possess a heart demon?!”
Xinxin sighed. This was… annoying, but better annoying than dangerous. She shook her head and stepped forward.
In the distance, the crowd murmured. Dissatisfied jeers and boos.
The masked man reappeared and laughed. “It seems that the enchanting Faith’s beauty and resolve is enough to withstand even the Madam of Illusion’s famed technique! What will she do now, I wonder?”
The scarred woman scowled. “Daring to underestimate me…!” She grit her teeth and then glared at Xinxin. “Fine! If you do not have a heart demon… I will force you to have one! Secret technique-”
“Kneel.”
Pressure erupted above the scarred woman and sent her sprawling against the ground.
“Kuh-!”
Xinxin shook her head. “This is a waste of time… so I will end this quickly.” Darkness gathered around her, similar to the demon from before.
Was he watching? Xinxin wanted to test something… so she decided to imitate him.
Black tendrils erupted from the ground around the scarred woman.
Did she realize her fate? The so-called Madam of Illusions opened her eyes wide and struggled to stand.
Too late. The tendrils pierced her body, draining everything she had.
Once more, Xinxin felt that strange brand shift from herself to her opponent before returning with a current of power, that strange energy omnipresent in this world… and that was it. Either the scarred woman was weak enough to where her strength added nothing to Xinxin, or she had been relying on a hidden weapon.
Xinxin sighed and picked up a bag of coin that was left behind by the scarred woman before leaving.
Behind her, Xinxin heard the crowd boo, clearly displeased. At the same time, the masked man spoke, trying to placate them.
But at that point, Xinxin couldn’t be bothered to pay attention, instead heading towards the attendant waiting for her at the door.
“Congratulations yet again, Miss Faith.” The attendant bowed and opened the door to exit the arena.
Xinxin shook her head. “This… how many more matches until the tournament is finished?”
The attendant started walking, leading the way back. After that, she said, “For you, there are four more in wait. It would have been longer, but the actions of you and the other demon have thinned the roster by a large margin.”
“Is that so? Good. That means I can leave this farce sooner.”
Also, that meant that Wang Tian would be less likely to scour the kingdom looking for her. So far, it had only been a few hours since she left, but the longer she was away… Hm. Well, it could also be a test for his sincerity. After all, if he respected her wishes, he would not barge into her private grounds unannounced.
The attendant turned back and smiled. “A farce, you say? The Master would be disappointed to hear that after his hard work… but I agree.” The silver-haired young woman sighed and continued walking down the hallway. “This is quite the farce. To think that so few powerful individuals appeared…”
Xinxin frowned. “That-“
“You.” A voice called out. Masculine and cold.
The attendant came to a stop in front of Xinxin and tilted her head. “May I help you, sir?”
The one that called out was the demon. That Dark Knight. He glanced at the attendant and shook his head. “Not you… you.” He looked past her and pointed at Xinxin.
“What?” Xinxin gave him a cold smile. “Enchanted by my beauty? If so, I suggest you bite your tongue lest I rip it out myself.”
Despite her harsh words, the demon didn’t react. His face was fixed in a firm frown, and his crimson eyes stared at Xinxin, as if trying to peer through her secrets.
Xinxin felt her patience running thin and started to step forward. But before she did, the demon spoke again.
“You… possess darkness,” he said. “And yet… you are not a demon.”
Xinxin rolled her eyes. “You barred my path to say that?” She shook her head and gestured towards her attendant. “Continue. There is no need to heed such a rude and callous man.”
The attendant looked conflicted, but then nodded. “As you wish, Miss Faith.” Like that, she stepped around the demon and continued down the hall.
Xinxin followed after her. But, after a few steps, she realized that the demon was following as well.
Sensing that he wouldn’t leave her alone, Xinxin turned around and crossed her arms. “What is it? Spit it out and leave before I make you leave.”
Behind her, the attendant called out. “Miss Faith. I would like to say that fighting between contestants outside the arena is strictly forbidden.”
Xinxin’s eye twitched.
Perhaps realizing her mood, the demon bowed his head. “My apologies. I did not mean to offend you. It is just… surprising.” He raised his head and frowned. “For a human to possess darkness should be impossible.”
Xinxin tilted her head. “How arrogant. Darkness is not the exclusive domain of demons.” If that was true, her Sifu would have never been able to… use it?
Xinxin paused and considered that fact.
Her Sifu had used darkness, but she also remembered him fading away the one time she saw him training. That… and considering his loss to the Goddess…
The demon nodded. “That is true. But darkness… it is a potent power that distorts and corrodes the wielder. Used by humans or other living beings that are not demons would simply turn them into monsters. Yet you… you wield it as a demon- no, as a Demon Lord might.”
Xinxin shook her head. “That is interesting… but I do not care. For you or your curiosity.” She turned around and started walking away. “Go to your match… or whatever it is you planned to do.”
“Wait-“
Xinxin waved her hand and blocked the path with her spiritual sense. After that, she turned to the attendant and smiled. “Please, continue to lead the way.”
The attendant glanced between her and the demon who was pounding on what appeared to be thin air. After a moment, she nodded and said, “As you wish, Miss Faith.”
Time passed and Xinxin continued on her undefeated streak. Perhaps after the results of her first few matches, the rest of her opponents took her seriously. Yet, even though they did, her powers, granted to her by her Sifu, carried the day.
And thus, it was time for the final fight of the Dark Tournament.
Xinxin stepped onto the arena. When she did, the masked man’s image appeared once more.
Spreading his arms, the masked man said, “The time has come, dear spectators! Sadly, the Dark Tournament for this year has reached its end… but worry not! The best fight has been saved for last, with both of the dark horse competitors finally facing each other!”
The crowd roared.
The masked man swept his arms towards Xinxin and said, “In one corner, we have the enchanting Faith, the peerless beauty that defeated each of her opponents in a single blow! From veterans to unexpectedly talented newcomers, all have fallen for her!”
Xinxin’s eye twitched. Bad jokes at this point in the tournament… no. It was almost done. Now she just had to finish this fight and then she could quickly leave and arrange her next steps.
The masked man swept his arm to the other side of the arena and said, “In the other corner, we have the mysterious Dark Knight! Like the enchanting Faith, he has also gone undefeated, cutting down his opponents in a single blow! Two demons, fated to clash! Who will win, who will fall? The time has come to decide!”
Xinxin let out a breath and focused. She stared at the other side of the arena, waiting for the match to begin.
And waited.
And waited…
The crowd grew restless.
Xinxin didn’t turn to look in case it was a distraction. The demon… it was possible that he had unknown abilities she could not perceive on a simple glance. Thus she waited…
But soon it became clear that it was no distraction.
The masked man reappeared and let out a long sigh. “Well… this is unfortunate. It appears that the Dark Knight has withdrawn at the last moment. As a result, the enchanting Faith is the winner of this year’s Dark Tournament!”
What?
The masked man turned to face Xinxin and said, “Please, return to your attendant and go claim your prize.”
…What?! That damned, cowardly demon-
“-Actually withdrew from the tournament!?” Xinxin scowled and stomped her foot. “Did he take me that lightly?!”
The masked man sighed and shook his head. “You have my condolences, Miss Faith. However… were you looking forward to the fight?”
“Of course! I wanted to teach that man a lesson for standing in my way!”
The masked man laughed.
After the attendant led her out of the arena, she was guided back to the stage where the Dark Tournament Grand Prize was kept. There, the masked man organizing the event had appeared to meet with her.
Xinxin let out a long sigh.
…Perhaps she was letting her emotions get the better of her. Ever since awaking in that cottage, her heart had been in turmoil… this turn of events could instead be a blessing in disguise.
“Well,” the masked man said. “Regardless, I must congratulate you for winning this Dark Tournament. It is rare… no, it has never occurred where such a beauty like yourself made it to the very end. Your challenge made me quite a bit of fortune.”
“Hmph.” Xinxin scoffed. “You mean it drew in the lascivious men who wished to see me defiled.”
The masked man laughed. “So you were aware of it?”
“You are fortunate that I have better things to do than spend time dismantling your organization.”
The masked man’s eyes twinkled and he said, “Then I’ll remember to thank my lucky stars. But enough chatter. I suppose you wish to be on your way… and it would be rude to keep you longer in a place you so despise.”
“At least you have some sense.”
The masked man nodded and then waved his hand towards the stage. When he did, space rippled and an invisible barrier surrounding it faded.
Xinxin’s eyes widened when she saw that.
“Surprised?” The masked man sounded amused.
She was. However, she wouldn’t admit it. “Of course not.”
The masked man shrugged and pulled out a bag from his shirt. That done, he waved his hand.
The overflowing pile of platinum coins flew into the bag, making a soft clink noise as they entered. When they were all inside, he handed the bag to Xinxin.
She paused and stared at the bag, trying to see if there were any hidden tricks.
“Cautious as ever, hm? Well, I suppose it’s expected from a beauty like yourself. But you can relax. Despite the events I run, I do uphold a sense of honor. It’d be impossible to do business otherwise.”
Xinxin ignored him for a bit. Yet, try as she might, she didn’t sense anything off about the bag, so she reluctantly took it from him.
Though his mask hid the man’s face, Xinxin got the sense that he was smiling behind it.
“Well, there’s one half of your prize. As for the other…” He turned to look at the elf.
Xinxin did as well.
Before, the elf hadn’t so much as glanced her way when Xinxin saw her. But she supposed that was due to the invisible barrier. Now though, the elf glared at Xinxin. Her eyes, a dark green jade, were narrowed in pure hatred.
The masked man dug in his shirt again and held out a jade slip. “This is the soul contract for your other prize. Ah, and while that elf might seem dangerous, rest assured that she won’t be able to do so much as lift a finger without your commands when you’ve activated the contract.”
Xinxin took the jade slip and frowned. “…Is that so?” She glanced back at the elf… the exotic Western Continent slave that she had won.
She was bound and gagged, her clothes completely tattered. From the faint marks on her body visible beneath her clothes, the fate that befell the elf was already clear. Yet, in spite of that, her eyes weren’t dazed or lifeless. Instead, they shone with malice- no, obsession.
“Well… I suppose that’s it from me.” The masked man stretched and then turned around. “I trust you know the way out, but in case you don’t, the slip will also works as a map. I’ve already informed my staff to leave you be, so take as long as you want to settle your affairs. Ah, and thanks again for providing me with such a wonderful opportunity to earn money.” He waved and then vanished.
Xinxin frowned and swept the surroundings… but she didn’t see anything or anyone.
“That man…”
He was odd. Unreadable and, from how he vanished, also incredibly powerful.
Xinxin was cautious, as well as curious… but she remembered her Sifu’s words about curiosity killing the cat and decided to leave it be.
Instead, she swept her spiritual sense over the jade slip. When she did, writing appeared, hovering over the elf.
[Status Screen]
Name: Titania SylvaniaGender: FemaleLevel: 100Age: 498 years oldRace: ElfCombat potential: APrimary skill: Ice-Wind BladePrimary titles: Defiled Maiden, Vengeful Blade, Eldest Princess
Summary: The eldest princess of Alvheim. Hailed as a genius combatant, skilled at both magic and the sword. Developed a unique ability that pioneered the path of swordsmanship for elves that maximizes their natural affinity towards mana.
Falling in the invasion of Alvheim, she was captured and defiled. Her pride as a princess and warrior have been continually shattered and her mind broken beneath pleasure and pain. In the depths of despair, her thoughts were only of her youngest sister that was still just a baby in elf years. Yet, great trauma has twisted those thoughts into malice.
HappyVainGlory
There's probably a lot of questions. Hopefully future chapters will answer them.
Thanks as always for reading and leaving your comments, and I hope this chapter was enjoyable.
I'll see you tomorrow... still working out on getting a routine time though, so not sure when just yet.
Until then!
|
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"Amnesia",
"Arranged Marriage",
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"Corruption",
"Dao Comprehension",
"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
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"Fantasy World",
"Fated Lovers",
"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
"Interconnected Storylines",
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"Multiple Transported Individuals",
"Past Plays a Big Role",
"Personality Changes",
"Skill Assimilation",
"Time Manipulation",
"Transplanted Memories",
"Transported into Another World"
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}
|
“I’m sorry, Sifu.”
Guilao sighed and said, “I’ll let it pass this time. But if you do something like that again, forget about being my disciple.”
Xinxin wanted to protest. She was just an ordinary girl that had never received any training. Even if she managed to brutally kill the Shadow Panther in the heat of a life and death experience, when faced with the gruesome aftermath it was obvious that she would lose her stomach.
Even though Xinxin knew that, she bit her tongue and said, “Yes, Sifu.”
Still, for her Sifu to remain unfazed after forcing a beautiful young girl like herself to commit such a brutal task… Xinxin began to wonder if there wasn’t some truth to Sifu declaring he was a ghost.
Guilao turned his attention back to the front and the master and disciple pair continued their walked through the dark bamboo forest.
After Xinxin’s violent upheaval, Sifu Guilao had declared that they were heading straight to the Zhan Clan Grounds. While her reaction to the first lesson wasn’t the best, Sifu Guilao decided that she would at least avoid freezing up when faced with a deadly situation now. Because of that, he deemed her ready to return to the Zhan Clan and confront her fellow clansmen about her decision.
After all, if you could stare down death and move past the painful experience, what were a few up-stuck elders?
Or so Sifu said.
Xinxin still didn’t think it would be that simple, but she had already made her choice, so she remained silent and kept walking.
The night breeze drifted across the forest, rattling the bamboo trees. Like before, it sounded like the cackling of evil spirits. But Xinxin wasn’t afraid. After all, there was something even more dreadful walking in front of her.
But that reminded Xinxin.
“Sifu.”
“What is it, girl?”
“How do you know the way to the Zhan Clan Grounds? Have you been there before?”
Xinxin thought that Sifu would have made her lead the way back. In the dark, it would have been difficult, especially with the profound beasts lurking in the night. That was also why Xinxin thought he taught her the first lesson. Yet, instead of forcing her to lead, Sifu had walked in front of her, causing Xinxin to follow behind.
Guilao came to a halt.
Xinxin almost ran into him, but managed to stop before she did. “Sifu?”
“…You ask too many questions, girl. Just trust that we won’t get lost.”
Saying those words, Guilao continued walking.
Xinxin frowned but followed after him. Her Sifu was just too mysterious. She burned with curiosity to find out more about him, but Xinxin refrained on remembering his temperament. When her Sifu got into a mood like that, it would be like talking to a brick wall. No, a brick wall at least bounced your voice back. It was instead like talking into the empty night, with only the spirits able to respond back while you hoped nothing would.
“How is your body, girl? Do you still feel nauseous?”
Xinxin shook her head, but then remembered that her Sifu couldn’t see her action.
Before Xinxin could respond, Guilao was already speaking again. “Good. Then we can move onto the next step.”
Xinxin wondered if her Sifu secretly had eyes on the back of his head. Then she remembered that he was an expert so far beyond her that she couldn’t even begin to fathom his power and brushed it off. Instead, she focused on what her Sifu said after that.
“The next step?”
“Yes,” Guilao said. “Your body should have digested the rest of the medicinal properties of the pill now. The life and death experience would have acted as a catalyst and cemented the foundation I laid out for you.”
Xinxin frowned. “But I don’t feel any different?”
“You wouldn’t. I made sure of that. If you focus your attention on your… what do they call it. Dantian? Heavenly sea? Energy center?” Guilao shook his head and said, “Just focus your attention to that place below your navel. You should realize it then.”
Xinxin was skeptical, but she closed her eyes and did as her Sifu said.
In an instant, her consciousness was pulled away from the forest and into a dark void. It stretched on seemingly forever, an infinite darkness expanding in every direction. But within that darkness there were eleven towering pillars that illuminated the darkness.
Ten of those pillars formed a circle, each of them appearing to have been carved out of crystal and glowing with starry light as if entire swathes of the night sky had been sealed away. The last pillar stood in the center of that circle. But unlike the others, it was barely visible, only a dark silhouette amidst the black background.
Shadowy tendrils wreathed the central pillar, drawing in the light from the surrounding pillars.
Staring at it, Xinxin almost felt like it would draw her in as well.
As if sensing her fear, the swirling shadows slowed, along with the attractive force.
With that, Xinxin was free to contemplate what she was seeing.
‘This is… Foundation Establishment?’ Xinxin thought. ‘Those pillars must be Dao Pillars. But I don’t remember hearing anyone ever having more than nine… or any with those colors. Nine should already be a complete circle, but I have ten in a circle and then one more…’
Xinxin drew her attention outside of her dantian. “Sifu-“
She called out, but there was nobody around.
Xinxin panicked and then scanned her surroundings. She couldn’t see her Sifu, but somehow, she felt that he was nearby. A strange sixth sense guided her way and she ran through the forest.
Before long, she caught sight of her Sifu’s back. “S-Sifu! You’re supposed to wait for me!”
Guilao kept walking and said, “It’s not my fault if you get left behind.”
Xinxin pouted her lips but quickly increased her pace to catch up.
“So,” Guilao said when Xinxin caught up. “I take it you realized that you’re no longer an ordinary girl.”
“Yes, Sifu. But… how am I in the Foundation Establishment stage already? And why do I have eleven Dao Pillars?”
“Again, you ask too many questions, girl.”
“But Sifu-”
“Quiet.” Guilao’s cold voice cut off Xinxin’s words. “There are some things in life that are better to just accept rather than question.”
Xinxin realized that she wouldn’t be getting any answers and said, “Yes, Sifu.”
Guilao kept walking.
Xinxin followed.
The bamboo forest began thinning out. The master and disciple pair were approaching the edges of the Zhan Clan Grounds.
At that time, Guilao spoke again. “…If you truly want to know, ask me again when you have become accustomed to your new power. Until then, just know that you won’t lose out even to that One Tin guy you’re betrothed to.”
Xinxin smiled. “It’s Wang Tian, Sifu.”
“That’s what I said.”
Xinxin’s smile grew and she walked a bit closer to her Sifu. “…Thank you.”
Guilao turned back to glance at Xinxin and then quickly turned away. “It’s still too soon to thank me, girl. Instead, you’d better come up with a good excuse for your clansmen unless you’re fine with me slaughtering everyone when they mistake me for having kidnapped their princess.”
Xinxin’s smile vanished. She had forgotten about that.
“Don’t worry,” Guilao said. “You still have a few hours until sunrise and then an hour afterwards before we arrive at the front gate of your clan grounds.”
“A few hours. Right- wait, the front gate?”
“Of course. I said it earlier, didn’t I? A Sifu should introduce himself to his disciple’s family.”
The words were soft and polite, but Xinxin could hear the excitement and hunger underlining them.
…Maybe the guards wouldn’t over react? Uncle Hu and Uncle Wei were reasonable people.
Right?
It was a bright and sunny morning. The blue sky carried fluffy white clouds that leisurely drifted above. The wind was refreshing, neither cool nor hot, and gently brushed the skin as it passed like a soft caress. The sun cast its rays to the ground, causing the drops of dew on the grass to glisten when light struck them.
With that beautiful weather accompanying them, Xinxin and her Sifu arrived at the front gates of the Zhan Clan Grounds.
The Zhan Clan Grounds, while called that, was really a vast sprawling village encircled by a wooden fence. Placed at the valley of the Emerald Mountain where the founder of the Zhan Clan’s tomb stood, it was protected by the founder’s legacy formation and the natural aura of the nearby mountain.
There were two main entrances to the Zhan Clan Grounds, one facing the Emerald Mountain and the bamboo forest where Xinxin and Guilao arrived from, and another facing the vast plains opening to the rest of the Xia Dynasty.
Those entrances were guarded by two men each and had a massive gate that shut at night to keep out profound beasts and would-be attackers. Their equipment varied depending on their specialty, be it spear, sword, fist, or some other weapon, but their uniform of dark green robes with brown embroidering remained a constant.
Despite the boring job, the guardsmen manning the gate took it seriously and carefully considered every threat to the clan. They were the first line of defense, after all.
Thus, when Zhan Hu and Zhan Wei noticed Xinxin walking towards the gate with her silk green robes covered in blood and grime, they immediately reacted.
“Brother Wei, quickly grab little Xinxin! I will distract him!”
Zhan Hu kicked off the ground and charged at Guilao. His long black hair billowed behind him as he lunged forward, thrusting an iron sword towards Guilao’s heart.
“Understood, Brother Hu!”
Zhan Wei kicked off the ground as well, making a beeline for Xinxin. Unlike his fellow guard, his hair was cropped short and so didn’t disturb the air as he moved.
Both of them moved faster than an ordinary human had any right to. Having reached the peak of Qi Condensation stage, they had gone beyond the levels of mortals and stepped onto the path of immortality.
But they were still just guards, and weak ones at that.
Guilao grinned and he leisurely raised his left hand.
“Uncle Hu, wait!” Xinxin shouted and tried to step in. “You aren’t a match for him!”
It was going wrong. Xinxin didn’t expect Uncle Hu and Uncle Wei to react so aggressively.
“Brother Wei!”
Zhan Wei grabbed Xinxin’s arm and turned around to run.
At the same time, Zhan Hu’s sword reached Guilao’s chest.
The air suddenly grew heavy, filled with pure malice.
Xinxin’s heart raced. Realizing that words wouldn’t have any effect, she decided to take things into her own hands.
When Zhan Wei turned to run, Xinxin pivoted and swung him at Zhan Hu.
Zhan Hu, seeing his comrade flying towards him, immediately averted his attack and reached out to grab him.
The two guards were sent sprawling on their collision, but they quickly got back on their feet to face Guilao. This time, Zhan Wei drew his sword as well. The distance had opened up, but it was one that could be crossed in a single bound.
The confrontation wouldn’t end so easily.
Guilao’s hand was still raised and malicious intent pressed down in the surrounding areas.
Despite not knowing what her Sifu was going to do, she knew that it wouldn’t end well for either Uncle Hu or Uncle Wei if she allowed him to continue.
Xinxin quickly grabbed her Sifu’s raised arm and said, “Sifu! Please, spare them!” After that, she turned around to the guards and said, “And Uncle Hu, Uncle Wei! Stop! This is my Sifu, not a kidnapper!”
Zhan Hu’s eyes widened. “Sifu? Little Xinxin, what are you talking about?”
“Sifu found me after I got lost in the forest and helped keep me safe through the night! He even taught me how to cultivate and protect myself from the profound beasts! He’s not a bad person!”
Zhan Hu frowned. “This…”
“What are you so concerned about, girl?” Guilao grinned. “Since they want a fight so bad, let me teach your ‘uncles’ a lesson or two.”
Xinxin pouted. “No! You’re going to kill them!”
Guilao was silent for a few seconds and then said, “…Not this time. I swear.”
“Si-fu!”
After glaring at Xinxin for a few moments, Guilao sighed and lowered his arm. “Fine, girl. This time I’ll listen to you. But I don’t think your father is going to want to hear what you have to say.”
“My father?”
Before Xinxin could say anything else, an immense wind and spiritual pressure pressed down on the surroundings.
Zhan Hu and Zhan Wei immediately fell to their knees.
Xinxin managed to resist the pressure, but her face paled as a result.
For a moment, an illusory green bamboo forest replaced the open plains. But that quickly disappeared. In its place, a heroic figure in a green robe with a tree embroidered on it in gold appeared. His body was layered with muscles honed from years of training and his eyes were sharp, carrying a gaze that seemed to peer into the secrets of the world.
Upon arrival, Zhan Long’s long hair billowed majestically behind him. His sharp brows furrowed as he noticed Xinxin’s presence.
“Daughter. Explain yourself.”
Xinxin stared at her father and gulped.
Before she could say anything, her Sifu shook off her hands and stepped forward.
“Zhan Long… the Zhan Clan’s Dragon, is it? I have a few things I want to say to you about my disciple.”
The Zhan Clan’s leader gave a curt nod and then swept out his sleeve, causing a jade spear to appear. Grabbing it, Zhan Long spun it around and settled into a combat stance. “Good. I have words to say to you as well, my daughter’s ‘Sifu’.”
|
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|
Space and time was locked down. Not only that, but a domineering presence that was both divine and cruel descended upon the world.
Nowun noticed it first, mainly because his ability to return failed. The only times that happened were when an overwhelming force had appeared. But considering his current abilities, the only one capable of that…
“Damn. That Goddess noticed, huh?”
A deceptively kind and nonchalant voice echoed through the land. At the same time, the Immortal Door appeared in the sky. As if a scene from rapture or the end of days, a pair of pearly gates descended from the heavens, stopping above Heavenspan.
Nowun could sense the astonishment from the mortals and experts in the city below. He even saw a few foolish ones race towards the door, as if thinking they could leap to the heavens in one go and become Immortals.
“Idiots.”
Iridescent lightning scattered, bolts of energy that contained every color imaginable. Not only tribulation lightning, but lightning that carried energies and laws of other elements as well. Paradox granted form on pure whimsy of an omnipotent goddess.
The foolish ones that tried to reach the door were vaporized in an instant, with not even their soul remaining.
Fortunately, it seemed like he wasn’t the one to cause that goddess to arrive. If it was, the door would have appeared directly above him. In other words, in the center of the city. But for some reason, the door had descended near the entrance… where he had left those experimental memory copies?
Nowun narrowed his eyes and focused his awareness to see what was happening. However, a few moments later, he didn’t need to.
To think that time travel could bunch up karma so chaotically like this! Not only that, but for you, pretty girl, to not only escape my grasp this time but become so strong… It’s fun!
A female voice that echoed like a choir. Not one, but many. And those words resounded not in the air, but in the souls of every being present.
“Serena.”
Nowun grit his teeth.
The Goddess that sent him to the new world with vague circumstances. The one who branded his soul without his notice and pretended to be his ally. The one who he should have been wary of, was wary of, but then was fooled into complacency.
“…It’s still a bit early.”
He could sense it now. Was it because she had been holding back in the past out of courtesy, or because he had grown stronger that he could tell? The being hiding behind those doors, the Goddess of the world, her power was almost limitless.
The only reason that he was ‘free’ at the moment was because she was unaware. Because he had done the unthinkable, both to himself and her.
Nowun glared at the pearly gates, the Immortal Door that had stopped above Heavenspan’s entrance, and then decided to head off. While he didn’t know what exactly had caused her to notice, it seemed like it didn’t involve him. Now, all he had to do was-
“Hm?”
Something was off.
A connection? A slight tugging on his wrist. No, his right hand. Like an invisible tether.
Confused, Nowun turned towards the source only to see his disciple standing at the other end. That girl who was too beautiful for her own good, to the extent where her misfortune was great enough that it wasn’t an exaggeration to say she garnered heaven’s envy.
Xinxin stood beneath the Immortal Door with blank eyes. Was it because of the energy emitted from beyond that door? For some reason, his disciple had reverted a bit in physical appearance. If she had appeared to be a young woman when he saw her last, now she had returned to her original appearance of a young girl on the cusp of adulthood.
But that wasn’t what caught Nowun’s gaze or attention. Instead, it was the sensation emanating from her, a familiar mix of chaos and darkness that shouldn’t exist.
“…Damned disciple. Always causing me trouble…”
First her clan, then her fiance, and now her… if he wasn’t certain that he had removed himself from the grand scheme of Fate, Nowun might have been upset. Instead, he was annoyed.
The Immortal Door opened, and an indescribable beauty descended.
At the same time, Nowun moved.
Someone was standing in front of her. A bewitching beauty with golden hair and sparkling eyes- no, a delicate beauty with silky hair the color of the night sky and dark eyes glittering like stars… No. Even that was wrong. An arrogant beauty with crimson hair, an ordinary beauty with dark brown hair, a delicate young princess, a mature older sister…
A woman beyond description descended from the sky and stood before Xinxin. The moment she appeared, the guards vanished into black smoke, as if phantoms upon sunlight. As for the others, the men, women, children and elderly that were attempting to flee, all of them stood as if frozen in time. Their gazes were drawn to the woman, their expressions blank as if their souls were whisked away.
Xinxin was no exception. Staring at the indescribable beauty slowly approaching her, Xinxin couldn’t do a thing. However, it wasn’t because she was spellbound by that beauty. Instead, it was because of what she could remember.
That person, that approaching woman… it wasn’t the first time Xinxin had seen her. Or was it? Whatever the case, that divinity about her, that aura… Xinxin could definitely remember that. A light so bright that it burned, something that could etch itself deep into the soul and never leave.
“Hm… though quite younger and with a trained body, your beauty is still one to praise, Zhan Xinxin1粘心信. While your mother was pure in soul, it seems you are quite pure in your beauty.”
Words spoken as if a song. They lulled, they bewitched… but somehow, Xinxin managed to maintain her consciousness. The reason…
“My mother?”
The indescribable beauty giggled. “Oh yes! I was looking for someone to turn into an angel, but couldn’t find anybody with a pure enough soul in the present, so I thought I’d take a look back in the past. I didn’t think that would change things up so much though! It was a pleasant surprise to find someone that managed to reach me through that old backdoor. Though, the way he did it was kind of boring.”
Xinxin’s frozen mind began to stir. Memories that she didn’t have, shouldn’t have slowly returned. Like a fractured jade, pieces drawn back beyond time.
A sheltered life foolishly chasing after a brilliant young man. Trials, tribulations, and a path rewarded with nothing but regrets.
A naïve trust shattered again and again as a man with average looks and cold eyes used her in countless experiments, each ending in her death.
Pain, agony, despair, resentment…
But there was something else that resonated beyond the dark emotions. Something that stirred from within the chaotic swirl of darkness.
“Now… I’m really curious how you ended up like this, so I’m going to be taking that body of yours. Don’t worry! You won’t feel a thing! Well… not like it would matter anyway?”
The woman stepped forward. Though her appearance shifted, the gleam in her eyes, the expression of a predator that found a new prey to toy with, didn’t. She reached out towards Xinxin’s face, as if to brush her cheeks in assurance.
But before that woman could-
“Sorry to disappoint, Goddess, but she won’t be going anywhere with you.”
-A man in black robes pulled Xinxin away.
“S-Sifu?” Xinxin hesitantly called out. After a moment, she shook her head. “No. You’re-“
“Quiet, girl. No matter how many times I repeat this, you always seem to be the cause of all my troubles… Did you save my life or something in the past? That’s the only way to explain this mess…”
Nowun couldn’t remember anything beyond his arrival in the world and fragments of general knowledge. It was… possible that they had karma from before then. But even if that was the case…
“Leave. This will be the last thing I do for you and our debt is cleared.”
“Sifu-!“
“From this day forth, you are no longer my disciple. Now, begone!”
A surge of darkness wrapped Xinxin and then tossed her through the air at high speeds. To a normal person, it was fatal. But she would be fine. After all that he gave her, if she still managed to die from that, it was her fate.
But more importantly than all of that…
Nowun turned back to the Goddess and said, “That’s odd. I would have thought you would object.”
“Why would I stop such an amusing act?”
“Amusing, huh?” Nowun nodded and then focused his energy into his right hand. “Yeah, that sounds like you. This entire world’s just a play, isn’t it?”
Serena tapped her chin. “Hm… well, if it isn’t a play then what is it? Everything here is just a stage I setup and the pieces just dolls for me to play with. Although…” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re different. I don’t know you.”
Nowun’s eyes widened for a fraction, but he managed to conceal it. “You don’t… but I know you, Serena. And you… you have a lot to answer for.” He clenched his right hand, causing a black sword to form. The blade he had carefully crafted to clash against her divinity.
Though, facing her like that… he had some doubts.
Serena’s eyes flitted towards the blade, and then back to Nowun. “I don’t remember earning the ire of someone like you… or even meeting you. But now that I’m seeing you face to face… I have to ask. Are you a time traveler?”
Black light cut through space, tearing it apart as it surged towards Serena. But, before it could reach her, an invisible barrier emerged. Standing unharmed beneath it, Serena smiled. “No need to answer. I can tell from that attack.” She smiled, an expression of pure joy. “You did well to erase it, but I can still feel traces of my power within your own. You’re it, aren’t you? The one who I’m meant to face? My ‘fated’ opponent!”
Nowun didn’t respond. Instead, he carefully gathered his strength and watched Serena.
The Goddess laughed and held out her hands. “Come on then! Scorn me and try to kill me if you can, my unnamed foe!” With those words said, Serena charged towards Nowun, manic glee in her eyes.
HappyVainGlory
:Sweat: Is this chapter a bit rushed? ...It might be rushed. Well screw it, it's already done, haha... Been stuck on this part for a while now. T_T Anyway, thanks for sticking around and reading everyone! Tell me if things start derailing too much. Hopefully I can steer things on track before it crashes... though a crash might be fun too in a way. :shrug:
|
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|
Mu Tian’s severed arm stained the ground crimson as blood continued to leak from its wound.
Xinxin stifled her scream, but couldn’t help scrambling back. Her emotions were flurried, shifting between guilt, disgust, and fear. Guilt because she had likely caused Mu Tian’s death. Disgust because the arm was still moving somewhat. And fear because she didn’t know what to do.
The streets of Heavenspan were becoming noisy. Whether because of Xinxin’s scream or the ensuing chaos, the people of the city were finally waking up and stepping outside to see what was happening. And when they did, screams and shouts continued where Xinxin left off.
The din helped Xinxin focus. She jumped to her feet and brushed off her dress before spurring her mind to figure out what to do next.
The lightning storm over the central palace continued to crackle. If anything, it was getting larger. Perhaps because of that, the powerful experts that had been heading away from it ignored Xinxin, even after the fight that had just occurred.
That meant she had some time. She didn’t have to worry about fighting at that moment.
Good.
Then… if Mu Tian was gone and she was alone, what should she do? Run? Where to? She didn’t have any major plans- No. She did. Xinxin had just forgotten for a bit since Mu Tian distracted her.
“Sifu.” Xinxin turned to face the central palace. “This is because of you, isn’t it?”
Her Sifu. The one who saved her, taught her, abandoned her… complicated emotions churned in her heart as she thought about him. However, those emotions all led to the same decision.
“I need to find him.”
Find him and hear the truth from his own words. Why he killed her clan. Why he helped her. Why he abandoned her. Why he left behind that manual and letter… and why he was chasing after that mysterious woman.
Xinxin nodded, her path now clear… mentally. Physically, the streets had become flooded with people running away. Despite how the sun had just risen not long ago, the chaos in the city had caused the people to panic. Men and women, young and old, ran down the street towards Xinxin and the checkout.
She quickly moved to the side to avoid them, and then started making her way deeper into the city.
And then the scent of blood filled the air.
Xinxin’s eyes widened and she spun around to see what was going on.
At the entryway to the checkpoint, an elderly woman lay slumped on the ground, a pool of blood spreading beneath her. Standing in front of that woman was the same guard that had led Xinxin and Mu Tian inside Heavenspan. His spear was held at his side, the tip gleaming with freshly spilled blood.
“M-Monster! What are you doing?!”
A man shouted and pointed at the guard.
The guard’s response was to spin his spear and toss it. Lightning crackled, along with white light, and the man who called out was turned into a pile of ash.
Gasps and screams filled the streets.
The guard straightened himself after throwing his spear and then said, “Orders. No one is to leave the city unobserved.”
Another man stepped forward. He seemed to be from a martial sect, wearing a black robe with a crest embroidering it and a sheathed sword at his side. The man drew his blade and then flared his cultivation base. From the energy, he seemed to be at the Core Formation Stage. “A mere guard dares to prevent us from leaving?”
“Orders. No one is to leave the city undisturbed.” The guard repeated his words. But then there was an echo. At least there seemed to be. But then the guard was joined by others, each armed with weapons flaring with light and crackling with energy. The entire force that had been stationed at the checkpoint began emerging.
The man’s eyes grew wide and he took a step back. “H-Hold on a minute-“
“ORDERS. NO ONE IS TO LEAVE THE CITY UNDISTURBED.”
A chorus of voices joined as one. When those words were said, guards stepped forward to attack. With all of the martial techniques and energy being emitted, the crowd of people would be turned to dust in an instant.
That was their fate. The misfortune for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Seeing that…
“Argh! Sifu better not leave while I’m doing this!”
…Xinxin couldn’t help but run out to stop it.
Chaos. Bloodshed. Massacre.
The nameless man closed his eyes and sorted through the memories of the Saints that he had slain. Especially that Bai Wei. As the oldest and most powerful among the Bai experts, his memories were the most useful in answering his questions.
“…So the White Tiger was dying, huh? Not only that, but the other beasts as well. The pillars maintaining this realm are on the verge of death… That would explain why that bird folded so easily when I saw it last.”
It was interesting information, although it made him curious as to whether it was because of his presence, or if it was bound to happen regardless.
The nameless man… Nowun opened his eyes.
White lightning crackled around him, its intense light bright enough to rival the sun. At the same time, the White Tiger’s aura flared, giving the impression that it was going to descend from the heavens.
Nowun was floating in the sky above the central palace. Using the White Tiger Roar had blown it apart, leaving behind the swarm of lightning that still shrouded him. Below, Nowun could see the Bai Clan running around in a panic. Yet, the guards he had left behind were doing as he instructed, slaughtering anyone that tried to leave.
“Hm…” Nowun cast his gaze across the horizon. “A few managed to escape, but they aren’t too important.”
Around three or so of the Bai Clan’s Saints had managed to evade the White Tiger Roar, but they were among the weaker Saints. It would be a trifling matter to end them… but Nowun got what he wanted.
Flexing his right hand caused the white lightning to pulse in time with it. A single thought allowed Nowun to direct it where he wished, like a tame kitten eager to please.
“It was inevitable, huh?”
Maybe since the White Tiger had been left behind by that goddess to watch over the ‘realm’ they were in, it had contained a spark of divinity, the same as what the goddess had burned into his soul in the first place to grant him his ‘skills’. And with that spark, processed with the ‘cultivation techniques’ that Nowun had learned… he was ready.
But… “A little extra preparation never hurt.”
There were three divine beasts left, as well as the Yellow Emperor.
Things would get troublesome if he stayed in the current time, so he decided to start back at the beginning. He couldn’t bridge the gap quite yet between waking up in Xia Dynasty and Asifant, but a few years time was plenty.
Like that, Nowun closed his eyes, preparing to time leap back to when that disciple of his first found him. Only now he would leave her behind, severing the karma between them for good. That One Tin guy seemed capable enough, despite his disciple’s misgivings.
As a favor though, he might as well resolve the issue about her mother and the Zhan Clan’s plan to rally against the heavens to get her back. Any chance he got to ruin that Goddess’s script was one he wouldn’t miss.
Just as Nowun gathered up his memories to recall the past… reality suddenly shuddered.
A myriad of lights and attacks surged across the checkpoint’s doorway and out to the crowd of people standing in the middle of the street.
In the brief moment before the crowd was wiped out, Xinxin jumped out in front of it. Since she moved on impulse, she didn’t have a plan or a weapon to defend herself. However, she trusted in the capabilities of the foundation her Sifu had laid in her dantian, the powerful black core that devoured any energy she came into contact with. Not only that, but the fact that the sword that Bai Yuyan stabbed her with didn’t pierce her clothes, let alone her skin, gave Xinxin the confidence that she would survive.
Blinding light filled Xinxin’s vision as she stood before the crowd. Behind her, she could hear gasps of surprise and horror. However, she didn’t pay attention to that. She couldn’t afford to.
A wall of light, filled with spears, swords, and countless other weapons. If any of those got past her, people would die. Therefore, before that could happen, she had to direct them all to herself. Focus all the attacks upon her body, and then somehow disassemble and neutralize the force behind them.
She could do it.
Xinxin activated her spiritual sense and locked on to every attack moving her way. At the same time, she rotated her cultivation base and allowed the dark core in her dantian to go wild, releasing its attractive force.
Intense focus and determination caused the attacks to converge on her, just like Xinxin wanted. However, she had underestimated the deluge of power behind the attacks.
“Grk.”
She lost her breath. Every blood vessel in her body expanded as her meridians desperately tried to channel the energy towards her dantian. Fortunately, the dark core didn’t seem to have a limit on how much it could absorb. However, the experience reminded Xinxin of the time that her Sifu forced her to eat that pill.
Her body felt like it was burning, indescribable pain welling up in every pore of her body down to her bones. Yet, a comforting was spreading as well, numbing the pain and quenching the flames.
After what seemed like an eternity to Xinxin, it was done. Or so she believed. Just as the last drop of energy entered the dark core, something else did as well. A hint of indiscernible power. Like a drop of clear poison in a glass of water, it was absorbed by the dark core…
And then everything went black.
A forest with gray mist obscuring the skies. Chaotic darkness devouring anything and everything to refine itself. Karma spun on itself over and over again as time continuously returned to the origin. A powerless soul that slowly gained strength through facing a beast that could end civilization overnight.
A barrage of scenes, images, sensations.
Xinxin saw a beautiful young woman with golden hair and pointed ears. She saw a dragon of pure darkness, driven mad with grief. She saw a world in ruins, an ancient forest burned to the ground. She saw a woman with honey-colored hair and jaded green eyes. She saw that same woman, but with a calmer gaze and hidden feelings.
She felt the apathy of a nameless man. She felt an all-powerful force slowly creep into his soul and try to claim it. She felt how he resolved that by fragmenting his very soul.
She remembered the fury he felt as he realized the truth. She remembered the resolve he had to kill the gentle young woman with golden hair that he originally saved.
She remembered the anguish he felt as he obtained the power to govern the world, only to give up his longest companion in exchange.
And then she heard a voice.
Now isn’t this an interesting development? I knew that it was a good idea to send that Wang Tian back another time.
|
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|
How much time had passed? He blinked and realized that he didn’t know anymore. Not only that, but he didn’t know where he was.
There was a sword in his right hand. A blade, forged from pure darkness and pulsing with crimson veins. From it, energy flowed into his body, something not quite mana and yet similar.
He blinked again and realized that he was standing in the midst of a village beneath the light of the moon. A sharp scent of blood filled the air, born from the corpses strewn all around him. Fresh corpses.
An old man with balding hair laid on his back, facing the sky with unseeing glassy eyes. A deep gouge cut through his shirt to reveal bone and viscera.
A young girl lay face down on the ground, her black twin-tails matted with dirt and blood while her arms clutched a broken doll. Beside her, a woman that could only have been the girl’s mother reached out only to have her hand fall short.
Those and other people, slain in tragic ways, filled the village with their corpses.
He blinked again and the memories came flooding back.
A path of slaughter to memorize the qi and spiritual energy of countless people. That was what he chose, an experiment to obtain a power uniquely his own by analyzing the fundamental makeup of the strange power in the land untainted by the Goddess’s divinity.
A young and impossibly beautiful girl that conveniently appeared before him, one he used as a guinea pig to understand the intricacies of spiritual meridians.
Him, adopting the persona of a teacher towards the young girl to have her try out various techniques and restarting whenever they killed her.
He blinked again and remembered where he was as well as what he was doing.
The nameless ghost of a man muttered to himself. “That’s right. I failed this time too.”
It was a peaceful village within the Western Plains of the Xia Dynasty, thousands of miles away from the Zhan Clan as well as that disciple of his. One far enough from the Bai Clan to where it would be a while before news spread of its inhabitants vanishing without a trace.
That village was his last ‘memory’, the checkpoint he set in place before attempting to reach that Goddess. The final place before he attempted to break through the so called Door of Immortality to step into her domain and confront her face to face.
But.
“It’s still not enough.” The nameless ghost of a man muttered and held up his left hand. Within it, dark tendrils of energy flickered before splitting into five colors, representing the Eastern primordial elements. Those colors flickered again before turning into four, representing the Western primordial elements.
From chaos and darkness emerged order and light. All of creation, born from a seed of chaos. That was the accumulation of his experiments and trials, the fruit of reverse engineering all of his abilities with his new energy.
Yet, despite gathering the qi and spiritual energy of millions and reaching the peak of what the locals called Sainthood, he still wasn’t powerful enough to breach the Immortal Door and reach the higher realm where that damned Goddess was waiting.
There was something missing. A flaw in his understanding preventing him from taking that final step through the Immortal Door. Something that he couldn’t attain through pure power like he had planned.
The nameless ghost of a man clenched his left hand, sending the tendrils of energy scattering. “Well, there’s more than one way to reach her.”
The Immortal Door was the primary path to the higher realms. Through it, one would undergo heavenly tribulation and attain immortality, as well as the right to step upon the “Divine One’s” domain.
It also reeked of that Goddess’s divinity.
He had prepared to break through it and then confront the Goddess, but considering that he had failed yet again, he decided to change tactics.
“If I can’t go to her, I’ll just force her to come down here.”
The key to that was the four guardians. Profound Beasts of great power ruling over the cardinal directions to maintain the realm’s order.
It was just a conjecture at the moment, but one that had a high possibility of truth. When all four were killed and the Emperor’s connection to the heavens severed with his death, the one ruling over everything would be forced to descend… or at least another path would open.
He had hoped that his disciple would have become powerful enough to be used as a vanguard in that back-up plan, but he might as well make an exploratory effort to gain information.
The nameless ghost of a man nodded. “Plan B it is. But first…” He adjusted his grip on the sword in his right hand and then took a look around. “I’d better clean up this mess.”
With his words, thin black lines spread out from his sword like threads of dark silk. A countless number of them scattered throughout the village like a spiderweb before falling. Yet, instead of reaching the ground, each thread landed on a corpse.
“Hm… it won’t be much of an improvement, but waste not want not.”
After muttering those words, the nameless ghost of a man clenched his right hand. With the act, his sword dissolved into a mass of darkness, pulsing with crimson lines like a rotting heart. From that mass, the countless thin black threads throbbed, as if veins sending blood back to the heart.
A single instant. That was all it took. The black mass expanded once and contracted once. And then, it vanished, sinking into his right hand along with all the threads. When it had, the village was completely empty and devoid of any corpse or pool of blood.
“That should be good enough. But just in case…”
A pulse of invisible energy swept throughout the village. Wherever the pulse touched, any signs of struggles, conflict, or death vanished.
“…Information Concealment should take care of it.”
The barest amount of concealment. Someone extremely sensitive to the world or resentment might notice, but by the time anyone like that came along he’d be long gone.
With a final glance to ensure that he had obtained everything useful from the village, the nameless ghost of a man started walking out into the grassy plains.
His objective was clear, even if his identity and memories were not.
Serena. The Goddess responsible for pulling himself into this mess. The one who told him of his dubious death. The one who acted behind his back to brand her divinity on his soul to guide him to a certain role.
She would get her reckoning soon enough. Now that he realized the ‘truth’ of what power was, of what ‘mana’ was and how it was created…
But first things first.
The White Tiger of the West.
The Azure Dragon of the East.
The Vermilion Bird of the South.
The Black Turtle of the North.
Four beasts, four targets. Only after eliminating each of them would he be able to continue on with his primary objective. Of those, the closest was the White Tiger, watched over by the Bai Clan not too far from his current location.
With cold eyes settled on the horizon, the nameless ghost of a man started walking, leaving no traces behind.
HappyVainGlory
Long story behind the absence, but to sum it up, family came up to visit for spring break and I was busy spending time with them. After that, whether because of the rapidly changing weather or the all-nighters I spent handing out, I just couldn't get anything down in writing. Still, I'm doing my best to get back on track. Thanks for bearing with me.
|
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|
In the depths of the bamboo forest, a nondescript cave jutted out of the ground, sealed with a restrictive formation.
The sun had fallen below the horizon, replaced by the pure white moon above. Darkness reigned, but the soft moonlight illuminated the way.
As Xinxin walked through the bamboo forest, she was reminded of the night after her Sifu took her as a disciple.
That time, the darkness had been dense, almost palpable.
This time… while the darkness wasn’t as all-encompassing, there was still something in the air that was just as prevalent.
Xinxin’s heart throbbed. With every step she took towards the sealed cave, she felt… odd. Emotions she couldn’t describe. Hatred, regret, happiness, sorrow…
Faint memories flickered in her mind as well, scenes that skirted on the edge of her awareness.
Staring out into the distance, painting the horizon.
Wistfully singing to the skies, pining for one who would not arrive.
A life spent without meaning, filled with sentiments that were left unreturned.
…But even so. Even while the emotions stirred in her heart, they didn’t remain. Like a passing wind through a bamboo forest… even while they shifted, they always returned to how they were.
Xinxin came to a stop in front of the cave.
A long and low sigh echoed. “So you returned after all.”
“If I didn’t, wouldn’t you have just left without a trace?” It was just like Wang Tian to do that… just like him to leave her behind again.
“As it should have been.”
Xinxin frowned. “What is this I hear about you entering your final closed door cultivation? Are you trying to breakthrough again? An old man like you trying to reach immortality… don’t you have any shame?”
She was rambling. The odd emotions in her chest were causing her to say things she didn’t understand or mean.
Wang Tian laughed. “It was unexpected. In the end, I suppose things just turned up this way when I decided to help you, Xiao Xinxin.”
“Don’t call me that.” Xinxin shook her head. “No matter what you might think, we were never married and never will be.”
“Yes… I suppose that’s true.” Wang Tian let out a wistful sigh. “In this life, karma has already decreed it to be.”
“…This life?”
Wang Tian was quiet and then said, “Did you enjoy your trip into the kingdom?”
Xinxin waved her hand, making a small chair from her qi, and sat down. “So you noticed.”
“I knew you wouldn’t sit still. You had enough of that already for one lifetime.”
There it was again.
‘This life’.
‘One lifetime’.
Xinxin’s heart throbbed when he spoke. At the same time, she felt a headache. A realization that was on the edge of awareness.
Even so, she ignored it and said, “…You did a fairly decent job. The kingdom is thriving and the people are lively. Though, you missed the part where the scum gathered.”
“The Dark Tournament, I presume?”
“…You knew?”
“I know everything that occurs in this kingdom, Xiao Xinxin. Even in my old age and with my depleted cultivation… such a thing is trivial.”
“Depleted cultivation? So you admit that you did not lose your cultivation from combat then.”
“You caught me.”
Xinxin couldn’t see his face, but she knew that he would be smiling at that time.
She frowned and said, “Care to explain?”
“The tournament or my cultivation?”
“Both.”
Why the upright Wang Tian would allow such a revolting place to exist and why his cultivation plummeted so low… both were things that Xinxin couldn’t understand.
“…I said it, did I not? Everything I have created here is for your sake. This kingdom, this sect… even though I did not know if you would ever arrive, in the chance that you did. Even if I could not welcome you, at least there would be something that remained.”
Xinxin scoffed. “Some welcome you prepared. Did your disciples not attack me when I appeared?”
“Did you not attack them first?”
Xinxin paused.
Now that she thought about it… perhaps she had been a bit hasty at that time. But she couldn’t be blamed for that with what had just happened to her.
“See?”
Xinxin flushed and said, “T-That doesn’t matter. More importantly… I did not ask for your help, Wang Tian. Especially if it will end in your death. The bad karma between us is already enough to last a lifetime and beyond…?”
She paused the moment the words spilled from her mouth.
Bad karma? Lifetime and beyond?
What was she saying?
The headache intensified and her heart felt like it was going to rip out of her chest.
Wang Tian was quiet and then he let out a long sigh. “…Yes. You are right. Then… shall we resolve that karma?”
“Hm?” Xinxin frowned. “Resolve the karma?”
“…There is a story I want to tell you.”
Throb.
Xinxin’s heart rebelled against his words. Everything in her was saying to leave him be… but at the same time, she felt that she should at least hear him out.
“I am not so rude as to decline a dying man’s last words.”
Wang Tian laughed. “So harsh. I wonder if that came from your Sifu or… No. That doesn’t matter.”
“Wang Tian.”
He sighed. “Then… I will begin. It may be a bit long, so I apologize for not preparing refreshments… but I am a bit indisposed at the moment.”
Xinxin rolled her eyes.
Could he see her? The moment Xinxin did, Wang Tian chuckled.
Xinxin frowned. “You-“
“There was once a young man hailed a prodigy and given everything in life.”
Xinxin paused when she heard him speak.
Wang Tian continued. “From the time he was young, he was already betrothed to a heaven-defying beauty. She… was kind. Completely supportive in his decision to pursue the path of immortality, even though she could not walk it with him.”
Throb.
That… was familiar to her. Xinxin recognized what Wang Tian was saying.
“Time passed and that young man became a peerless cultivator. Beauties flocked to his side because of his heaven-sent talent… and he took it for granted. Thrilled at the thought of peers that could walk beside him, he forgot the one who supported him from the beginning, who continued to support him even when she was called foolish and childish. Even when she was powerless.”
“…That guy sounds like the scum of the earth.”
Wang Tian laughed. “I agree. But at the time, he could not understand it. So focused on carving a path towards the heaven he was that he never stopped to look behind him. But… at the threshold towards immortality, he was forced to face his heart. There, he saw her support, saw her kind and warm devotion. Realizing that… he decided that he made a mistake.”
His words were heavy with regret and sorrow.
The story he told… Xinxin knew it well. Not with her mind, but with her heart. A tale of her devotion being tossed aside, of her love spurned and shattered, with only herself to pick up the pieces each time.
Xinxin laughed, a cold sound echoing through the bamboo forest. “A mistake? You realized it far too late, Wang Tian.”
She tossed aside all pretentions and cut to the core of the matter.
Wang Tian sighed. “…Yes. It was too late. My heart demon on the threshold to Sainthood… was you. To pass the tribulation, I had to sever the karma sewn between us… but I could not. Knowing the extent of your devotion, how you stuck to your heartfelt emotions… I could not sever it.”
“So you say… but you became a Saint in the end, did you not?” Xinxin scoffed. “What a weak resolve-“
“It was not my choice!” Wang Tian’s words rang loud and clear. Remorse, guilt, fury, despair. “It… was not my choice. I had decided then. Decided to give up my cultivation to live out the rest of my life as a mortal. To live out the rest of my life… with you.”
Was it because Xinxin realized it now? Despite Wang Tian’s words… her heart was still. They… could no longer move her.
Still, she was curious.
“…Then what happened?”
“I was a fool.” He scoffed. “What prodigy? What heaven-sent genius? I was so blind that I treated the excrement I found on the road as gemstones and tossed aside the jade that fell into my hands as a youth.”
The air chilled, a sharp intent spreading throughout the area like a drawn sword.
“…They severed it. The ones I foolishly called my companions. The ‘pure fairies’ that accompanied me performed a forbidden ritual. They must have realized that I was hesitating and made the decision for me. While I faced my past, they took you and tore out your soul, offering in to that accursed goddess to banish it from the cycle of creation. To ensure that our karma was completely severed… they erased your very existence. At least… that should have been the case.”
“But it was not.”
Xinxin existed. The time and life that Wang Tian spoke of… she could not remember it, but her heart did. Yet, if what he said was true… then how could it be? That she existed, that she stood there at all…
“Yes,” Wang Tian whispered. “It was not.”
Silence.
A breeze swept across the bamboo forest, causing them to rattle. A sound that could have been heard as either laughter or weeping.
Xinxin stared into the cave and said, “Why are you telling me this?”
“…I told you, did I not? This… is all to settle the karma between us. While our bond has been severed… the weight left behind I have never forgotten. When that goddess sent me back to the past, I was determined to repay the debt I carried… but the heavens are cruel. Even now… the one in your heart is no longer me, is it? Rather… it is that man. Your ‘Sifu’.”
Xinxin didn’t respond. But then, it seemed that Wang Tian didn’t expect an answer.
“While I might not be able to resolve the karma between us peacefully… I can at least help you reach your desires, Xiao Xinxin.” He laughed. “How odd. In the end, you who gave everything to me will be the one to live, while I will be the one to vanish.”
“Wang Tian. You-“ Xinxin’s voice caught in her throat. Despite her wishing otherwise, she found it hard to speak.
A bell rang from somewhere in the distance. The signal that Wang Tian’s life was ending.
Hearing that, Xinxin found her words again. “…I will not forgive you. What you did to me… what you allowed me to suffer…”
“I know. But I chose this path. The destiny wrought by a foolish young man who sought heaven in the skies rather than accepting the bliss he had on earth.”
Another chime. When the bell finished its toll, it marked the end.
Wang Tian’s voice drifted out again from the cave, weaker than before. “Even so… would you allow me to see you? One last time?”
Xinxin sighed and then stood up from her chair.
At the same time, the restrictive field vanished.
Xinxin walked inside.
It was a simple cave, not too deep or wide. As a result, it did not take long to reach Wang Tian.
He sat in the middle of the cave, cross-legged in meditation. Yet, unlike before, he had changed from the appearance of an old man back to the one he held as a youth. Still, with his white hair and dull eyes, it was clear that he was no longer a young man.
When Xinxin arrived, Wang Tian stared at her and let out a long sigh. “What a hopeless fool I was to throw you away.”
Xinxin didn’t say anything, only nodding.
“No words, even at the end?” He shook his head. “No. I suppose that is to be expected… Then. I will focus on what comes next instead of these lingering sentiments.”
Wang Tian’s dull eyes focused and he stared at Xinxin. “Your Sifu is alive… but to reach him will be difficult. Using the last of my strength, I managed to discern his location… but that man’s karma is tangled beyond all recognition. Moreover, another’s karma has been woven into his, a golden thread cast by the Goddess to bind him to a fate she envisioned.”
Sifu… was alive?
Xinxin’s eyes widened, that single thought echoing through her mind.
Her Sifu… Nowun was alive. Despite falling to that Goddess, he was alive.
And then Xinxin recalled the rest of Wang Tian’s words and her eyes narrowed. “That Goddess has forced a fate upon him?”
“Heh. So you speak when it comes to your Sifu, huh?”
“Wang Tian.”
“Humor a dying old man, will you, Xinxin?”
Xinxin rolled her eyes.
Wang Tian shook his head, an amused smile on his face. But after that, his expression became somber and he said, “If you wish to meet your Sifu… if you wish for him to stand beside you, that karma must be cleared.”
Xinxin frowned. “And how do you expect me to do that?”
“For that… I have a present for you.” Wang Tian waved his hand. “A word without a sound… A blade by another name.”
Light gathered, forming into a sword in front of Xinxin.
She grabbed the sword and stared at it.
A blade of pure crystal, as if carved from ice. Inscribed upon that blade were three characters: 粘信心
Zhan Xinxin. Her name… but characters that could also be read as a stick with faith.
“I will not dissuade you,” Wang Tian said. “I can only hope that you stay true to your name, Xinxin. Stick to your heartfelt feelings… to your faith. In that way… I am sure you will reach the happy ending you deserve.”
The final toll of the bell rang.
Xinxin’s eyes widened and she called out his name. “Wang Tian-“
He smiled… and then he vanished, fading away into dust.
Xinxin held onto the sword a bit tighter and shook her head. “You idiot. Leaving me behind without a word again…”
Holding that sword in her hand, she realized what Wang Tian’s incantation meant, the ‘path’ that he achieved.
A word without a sound… a blade by another name.
Regret.
HappyVainGlory
Not much I have to say today, I think, other than to thank you for reading, as always, and that I hope the chapter was enjoyable. Might be a bit too melodramatic, but I think it's not too bad... hopefully.
Until tomorrow!
|
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Wang Tian leaped into the air and swung his sword. The slash was slow, but fast. Simple but profound. A powerful blade honed by countless years and contemplation drew an arc through space towards his opponent.
A black sword appeared to block it, but the counter-attack lacked the depth of laws. Because of that, the force of the blow sent Wang Tian’s opponent flying upwards into the sky. They weren’t wounded, but it was enough to stagger them and send them away from Xian Ni.
A clash between Saint-level experts could send shock-waves that would destroy their surroundings. That was even more true when the power of laws were involved. While Wang Tian’s grandfather was nearby to mitigate it, the best option would be to go to a place that didn’t have anything or anyone that could be harmed by the battle. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like his opponent was willing to do that, so Wang Tian chose the next best option of an aerial battle.
Floating in mid-air with his hair and azure robes billowing around him, Wang Tian stared at his opponent, thoroughly examining them.
A dark miasma covered every inch of their body, emanating a domineering chaotic aura that could oppress a Saint. Not only that, but overwhelming spiritual pressure radiated from that person. It was to the level that Wang Tian had only felt from the Xia Emperor, a seemingly boundless strength that drew everything inside of them, as if all of heaven and earth would bow to their will.
Except, unlike the Xia Emperor who carried the strength of the Yellow Dragon and rightfully belonged, Wang Tian’s opponent felt at odds with the world itself. If the Xia Emperor’s command came through birthright, that person’s command came through usurption, a power seized rather than given.
An opponent that was Saint-level but exuded imperial might. One that should never have existed in this world, but was born through an accumulation of karma and past mistakes.
A blade that drew in all the light of the world was raised against Wang Tian and a harsh voice spoke out. “I know that’s not your best. Stop holding back!”
Wang Tian hesitated for a brief moment.
His opponent took that moment and attacked. The blade that drew in all light traced an invisible arc through the air, aiming at Wang Tian’s neck.
It was fast, taking the amount of time it took to blink.
But that was still plenty of time.
Wang Tian idly raised his sword. The simple movement carried the blessing of the world itself and miraculously appeared before his opponent’s blade despite being slower.
Invisible ripples of pure energy echoed through the sky. With the last attack, Wang Tian locked blades with his opponent.
Despite the force of the blow, neither party moved an inch, frozen in the air as if a painting rather than living beings.
After a moment, Wang Tian sighed. “You are still too weak, Xinxin. Even with this heaven-defying path and cultivation, it will not be enough.”
“Hmph.” Having been revealed, Xinxin flew back through the air and erased the dark miasma surrounding her. “Just because you blocked that attack doesn’t mean that I’m weaker than you, Wang Tian.”
The heavenly prince glanced around. Spectators had sensed the clash of energy and were arriving to watch. Those of the elder generation that could fly under their own power did so while others, like the scions of countless clans and sects, were hovering on flying swords and other artifacts.
It seemed like it was too late to hide the encounter.
Wang Tian sighed and said, “Was this your plan, Xinxin? Do you hate the thought of being with me so much to throw your face away?”
Xinxin laughed. “Face? What face do I have left? My clan is gone and everyone knows me just as your betrothed. Not my own person, but as your accessory.” She tightened her grip on her sword and said, “I’m not! I am my own person, not someone else’s belonging!”
Hearing her voice caused another to echo in Wang Tian’s heart. An older one, but just as melodious… no, more so.
“Xinxin-“
“Shut up and fight me! Show me just how powerful the ‘Prince of Heaven’ is! Show me just how weak I am in comparison if you can!”
Xinxin thrust out her left hand. An invisible energy crackled before condensing into white lightning.
Wang Tian frowned. “That aura… Tribulation Lightning?”
He didn’t have anymore time to react beyond saying those words. In a flash, a thunderous roar echoed and a pure white streak shot towards Wang Tian’s body.
A powerful attack, but-
“You lack comprehension!”
Wang Tian’s sword swept through the air and the lightning dispersed.
But Xinxin’s attack wasn’t over. She clenched her hand, causing the remaining sparks of lightning to change. The pure white lightning was dyed with color and formed five lights: green, red, yellow, gray, and blue.
“Five elements converge!”
Wang Tian’s eyes widened. “That is-“
He didn’t have the time to finish his words.
In an instant, the lights took on a tangible form. The purest Wood qi, Fire qi, Earth qi, Metal qi, and Water qi erupted in the air, sending out fragments of the elementary elemental laws. Incomplete and fractured, they began twisting time and space, making the sky appear as if it was falling apart.
Wang Tian focused and raised his sword. Unlike before, where he casually held it, he shifted into a proper stance. At once, everything froze. The incomplete law fragments paused, and all of life grew still.
An invisible tension filled the air, preventing anything from moving, even time itself. A domain, one belonging solely to Wang Tian.
With a flick of his sword, that tension shattered. But when it did, so too did the law fragments.
That flick didn’t just erase the fragments, however. With the movement of Wang Tian’s sword, an invisible slash cut towards Xinxin.
Whether she was shocked at her attack being stopped, fatigued from using too much qi, or just arrogant, she stood there and tried to block it with her left hand.
Blood scattered across the sky like tiny rubies.
Xinxin let out a hiss of pain and pulled her hand back, glaring at Wang Tian.
He sighed. “Xinxin. Please, hear me out. This wedding-“
“Be quiet!” The heaven-defying beauty narrowed her eyes and said, “I won’t marry you!” With those words, Xinxin raised her sword again, flaring her spiritual energy. It was overwhelming… but it was also unstable. Even if it had the quantity to rival a Saint and pressure to oppress, it lacked depth. Substance.
Wang Tian noticed and said, “The path you tread is not the correct one, Xinxin. At the end of this road lies nothing but ruin.”
Xinxin was quiet. Did she realize it as well? She lowered her head, hiding her violet eyes beneath strands of her silky black hair. But then she raised her head again, a determined glint shimmering in those violet eyes. “So what if this path leads to ruin? So what if this path is incorrect?”
Xinxin’s spiritual energy grew even higher, fluctuating wildly out of control. “It’s the only one I can choose! The only path that lets me become my own person!”
“That is not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Xinxin narrowed her eyes. “You’ve already become a Saint and I’m a girl who has nothing but her beauty. You could have called off this wedding at any time, and yet you allowed it to reach this point!” Xinxin’s spiritual energy condensed, collapsing down into her sword. “It’s about time to end this. If you want to keep clinging to me and prevent me from leaving by tying me down with that marriage, I’ll just have to cut those strings away with my own two hands!”
A powerful attack. Because she had condensed everything into her sword, all of the ambient energy in the surroundings gravitated towards her. It created a spiral of attraction, drawing in power from heaven and earth in a never-ending stream.
Where did she learn such an attack? Even though it lacked the profound depths of law, the sheer energy contained in it was enough to place it at the same level.
Wang Tian stared at Xinxin and sighed. Just like how she was once the shadow on his heart, it seemed that he had become the shadow upon her heart.
Xinxin raised her sword. With that act, cracks in space emerged, as if the threads of the world itself were unraveling. While they were slight, simple black lines floating in the air, the fact that they were present meant that the attack was nothing to scoff at. Unless Wang Tian went all out, even he would be cut down. Not only that, but the entire city beneath them could be wiped out as well.
Yet, in the face of that attack, Wang Tian couldn’t muster any will to fight. Instead, he stared at Xinxin and said, “I surrender.”
Xinxin froze. “…What?”
Wang Tian stared at Xinxin- no, at the one he once abandoned in pursuit of the true path.
She was different.
That same heaven-defying beauty was there, but it was different.
The Xinxin he knew had always followed him around with pure devotion, even when he treated her poorly. The Xinxin he remembered had given him her gentle heart and allowed him to break it time and time again, only quietly picking up the pieces each time.
The Xinxin he loved and lost… was not here.
“…The heavens are truly merciless.”
In the past, he sought the Dao and ignored the meek beauty following him, instead giving his heart to others that could walk beside him. The cost of that was her dying alone and disgraced at the hands of the ones he called companion before offering up her soul to the foreign invaders.
Was that the reason?
Since he had returned to this time, Xinxin had ignored him- no, hated him. It was with a vehemency that made him wonder if she remembered like he did… but that was impossible.
Xinxin glared at him and said, “What are you doing? Fight me!”
“I will not.”
“You…!” Xinxin scowled and then glanced at the city below. “If you don’t, I’ll destroy them! This attack isn’t something you can brush off!”
“So be it.”
Xinxin gnashed her teeth and then said, “I’ll do it! I’ll really do it!”
Wang Tian dismissed his sword and then let his hands fall. “If that is your wish, I will not stop you.”
Time passed. Whether short or long, that depended on the observer. But eventually, Xinxin dismissed her sword as well.
Xinxin stared at Wang Tian and then said a single word. “Why?”
“Because I made an oath to protect you.”
Xinxin’s expression soured and she crossed her arms. “Again with the protecting! I don’t need it, especially from you! Even if I look like this, I’m not a dainty girl who needs a hero to save her!”
“…Even so, I will protect you.”
Staring at Xinxin’s beautiful face, the image of a similar girl’s overlapped.
Xinxin… while she might not remember, Wang Tian did. And like how she followed him quietly in the past, allowing every sin he inflicted upon her, in this life he would do the same.
“You-!” Xinxin cut off her words and then scoffed. “Fine. Say that I believe you.” She shifted her vision to the city below as well as the countless spectators surrounding them. “What are you going to do about them? People from all over Xia have come to see your wedding. Don’t tell me you’re going to let them leave empty handed.”
Wang Tian was quiet for a moment, but then he looked up at Xinxin. “I told you already. To stop this marriage, you need the strength to defy the Xia Dynasty. Having come this far, breaking off the marriage will make you a target of every clan out there seeking the True Wood physique hidden in your bloodline.”
Xinxin froze. Had she not anticipated that?
“S-So what? I’m plenty strong!”
Hearing that brought a smile to Wang Tian’s face. Even as some things changed, others remained the same. Xinxin was still childish, even if it was hidden behind her distaste towards him.
“Stop smiling, you creep!”
Wang Tian shook his head. “It can’t be helped.”
“Your personality can’t be helped! Creep! Pervert!”
Wang Tian smiled, but then replaced it with a stern expression. “Xinxin.”
Hearing the serious tone in his voice, Xinxin stopped with the names and listened. “What?”
“Do you… truly want to meet with your Sifu again?”
Wang Tian stared at Xinxin’s eyes, waiting to see her response.
It was immediate. Those violet eyes lit up and a hint of red appeared on her jade cheeks. At the same time, she flew towards him and grabbed Wang Tian’s robe. “You know where he is? Tell me! What’s he doing? How is he? Did he say anything about me? Did he leave me a message?”
Wang Tian’s heart ached at such sincerity. In another life, he was blessed with such a thing but he cast it aside.
What a fool.
Still, as much as his heart ached, Wang Tian was someone who once reached the heights of the world and commanded the entire land in another life with his sword alone.
In the next breath, his heart stilled, becoming as tranquil as steel, and he gently pushed Xinxin away.
Perhaps realizing her actions, Xinxin blushed. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “D-Don’t think that this changes anything! I still don’t like you, even if you have news about my Sifu!”
Wang Tian let out a wry smile.
There were countless eyes upon them both. Those of the Wang Clan, the elder generation of the major sects and clans… each of them were likely waiting with baited breath.
Although he didn’t know how many had realized that it was Xinxin he was fighting, the more astute like his grandfather would have already found out. Within the day, news would spread about how the heavenly prince clashed with his fiance, and especially about how his fiance was so powerful.
In short, they had a giant target painted on them.
The clans and sects interested in Xinxin before would double their efforts, even digging out the old monsters to pull her in. Of that, Wang Tian had no doubt.
But Xinxin didn’t know. Even if she was different from what he remembered, even if that ‘Sifu’ of hers had trained her, he doubted that nameless man had given her more than combat knowledge and an unorthodox technique.
She didn’t know how truly vicious and cruel cultivators could be in order to traverse the path to immortality. And someone like her, whose bloodline contained the True Wood physique… someone who was a direct descendant and a female at that…
“Wang Tian! If you don’t tell me right now-“
“You have yet to give me an answer, Xinxin. Do you want to meet your Sifu again?”
“Yes! Why else have I been training these past two years if not to meet him?”
Wang Tian stared at Xinxin. There wasn’t a shred of hesitation or doubt in her eyes. If anything, there was only a fervent anticipation, one bordering on obsession.
“…Very well. If that is your decision then I…”
Wang Tian closed his eyes for a brief moment. The memories of the past, the Xinxin existing now… even if he no longer had a place in her heart, it would be fine if he could keep her safe.
Opening his eyes, he looked at Xinxin and then spoke, imbuing his voice with spiritual energy to be heard by everyone around. “With the heavens as my witness, I, Wang Tian, renounce my clan name.”
A booming voice echoed through the skies. “BOY! What are you doing!?” At the same time, the aura of a Saint filled the air and someone rapidly approached.
Wang Tian didn’t need to look to know that it was his grandfather, Wang Zuo.
Xinxin’s eyes grew wide. “Wang Tian, what are you-?”
“Xinxin.” Wang Tian… no, it was just Tian now. He materialized his sword once more, that crystal blade that seemed to contain the infinite skies. “You have mastered that technique I gave you, correct?”
“Myriad Heavens? I have. But what does that-“
“Good. Then… Word without a sound. Blade by another name…”
The words echoed into the air, resonating with something intangible. The power of laws that only Saints could touch upon were written into the space around them… but then a power beyond that emerged, something that didn’t exist in the current time.
A thunderous voice roared. “WANG TIAN!”
Tian swung his sword and said a single word. “Dao.”
It was the sword, it was the beginning, and it was the end. The ‘truth’ that the one known as Wang Tian acknowledged at the end of his life and the ‘path’ he would trod upon in order to protect one he had cut off.
Space tore apart. When it healed, both Xinxin and Tian had vanished.
HappyVainGlory
A slightly longer chapter to make up for the shorter ones earlier. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks again for reading and sticking around. Up next, we get to see what happened to our good ol' protag. Probably. That's the plan at least... we'll see when we get there.
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|
Hooo boy. What can I say? It’s been a long time since I started writing this story around the time that Scribblehub started and a lot’s happened during that time.
I went to grad school, came back after I decided I didn’t like that field, got into law school instead.
There were times when I updated every day, times when I didn’t update for a while because real life hit like a truck, and then a lot of false starts when I tried to get back on track.
Overall, I’ve got a lot of mixed feelings about this story.
The first is relief. After all this time, I can say that “No One’s Story” is finished.
Is it the story I had in mind? No.
Could it have been better? Yes.
Is there still a lot left in the world to explore? Absolutely.
However, if I tried to do all of that, I have a feeling that the story would never finish. And at that rate, I have a sneaking suspicion that I’d get isekaid and meet some very upset nameless men in a dark alley, haha.
The second thing that comes to mind when thinking about this story is that it was a lot of fun. As much of a mess that it is, inevitably so considering the time and continuous stopping and starting, I think it’s a fun read. At least, it was a blast writing it. And that’s what really counts, I think.
The third… and most important thing that comes to mind when thinking about the story is you guys. The readers.
I’ll be honest and say that I’m definitely not that reliable of an author in terms of updating. And considering the fact that the update schedule changed a lot over the years from daily updates to every other to eventually month long gaps, I’m sure that there were a lot of people who left and picked up other stories.
I’m also sure that there were a lot of people who picked up the story and then later dropped it because it didn’t turn out the way that they thought it would.
For everyone that stuck around this long and got to this point though, I have to thank you. Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, thanks for taking the time to read this story.
I set about writing No One’s Story as a sort of twist on the usual tropes and genres in light novels. The plan was always to play around with it a bit while having a character whose power should let him easily clear whatever comes his way, but have it be demerited by the fact that his personality and identity were lost as a consequence but with a certain ‘drive’ that gets interpreted differently based on what occurred.
Of course, that turned out to be more daunting a task than expected… As much as I love the story, if I tried to explore every nook and cranny, it would be a never ending story that hit well into the millions of words.
While I’m sure that it’d be a blast to write and to read, I’m also sure that life would find a way to stop that from happening. It’s just way too big a project for me.
Maybe at some point I’ll revisit this story and add either side stories or something to flesh things out.
Heck, I might even make a visual novel at some point to explore different paths of if ‘Nowun’ decided to stick with Aria the entire time or teamed up with Serena and did a proper Isekai story. Of course, that’s just a maybe. It’s something that I’d love to explore, but absolutely lack the time to do, not to mention the resources.
Having gotten to this point, I… don’t really have much else to say. Well, that’s a lie. I’ve got plenty of apologies and words to say about how the story turned out and wishes for what it could have been, but that would leave me here forever. Can’t have that now, can we?
Since it’s like this, I guess I’d just like to take the time to thank the people who stuck with me all this way and commented, whether you’re still reading or not, as well as those who gave the story a shot.
It’s been a blast and I hope that No One’s Story became one that you could enjoy and at least spend a little time escaping from the harshness of reality.
Take care, and thanks again everyone.
-HappyVainGlory
P.S. I’d love it if you left a review for the story if you've finished it! That, or if you left your thoughts in the comments! Good, bad, I’ll take it all. And I’ll definitely respond this time! I mean, nothing’s really left at this point and no one’s watching, right? ?
P.P.S. I’ll probably start up a new story sometime soon for the second anniversary contest. This one will be absolutely self-indulgent and meandering though… I’m just hoping to properly finish up a contest for once. :sweat: Anyway, keep an eye out for that if you’re interested. If you’re not, have a wonderful life wherever you are and I hope that you don’t get isekai’d in these trying times… And that you get yourself your own Faithful Companion at some point if you don’t have one already.
|
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|
For a while, there was only silence and the sounds of the porcelain tea cups clinking against the wooden table as they were set down.
But I didn’t mind the silence. Instead, I used it to sort out my mind a bit, taking advantage of the warm tea to relax. Relax and try not to think too much about the guilt weighing on my chest.
Across from me, I saw Xinxin took a sip from her cup of tea. From how her eyes wrinkled when she did, it seemed that she was enjoying it. Still, I couldn’t help but notice that her eyes kept flitting towards me.
I sighed and set down my cup of tea. “Am I that interesting to you?”
Xinxin shook her head. “No- I mean, yes! Well…” She frowned. “You just… seem a bit different, Sifu.”
“Different, huh?” I swirled the tea around in my cup and then shook my head. “You’re imagining things.”
“I’m not.” She stared at me, her violet eyes fixated on my own.
I forced myself to keep eye contact and not avert my gaze.
After a bit, Xinxin tilted her head and said, “You’re not scolding me any more.”
Her odd words made me regain my composure and I sighed. “Don’t tell me that you want to be scolded. You’re not a girl anymore… Or did you still want to be treated like one?”
Xinxin flushed and lowered her gaze. “Right. I… guess I’m not anymore.” She paused and then looked up at me, fidgeting slightly in her seat. “Um, then Sifu. Maybe…”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” I cut her off before she could say what I knew she would. “You’re still just my disciple.”
Xinxin’s face dimmed. “Right. Just your disciple…” She lowered her gaze and went back to drinking her tea, taking slow sips.
My heart ached at seeing her so disheartened, but I focused and pushed the feeling aside. That done, I went back to take another sip of my tea as well.
Sweet and refreshing. The tea Xinxin brought over was probably made from some magical herbs, or something similar. Sadly, I couldn’t tell what it was or memorize its effects in my current state, but knowing her, it was probably good for me.
Almost as if she read my mind, Xinxin glanced at me and then said, “How do you feel, Sifu? Is your body… well?”
I shook my head and said, “I might be wounded, but I’m not that weak, Girl.”
She frowned. “I thought you said that you weren’t going to treat me like a girl anymore, Sifu?”
“Hmph. I’ll do what I want, just like I always have.”
Tough words. A firm stance.
I had to say it, both to stop her and to stop myself. To draw a clear line between us.
Xinxin huffed and crossed her arms. “Why are you always so stubborn, Sifu?”
“Why are you so naïve and nosy? Can’t you just leave well enough alone?”
Xinxin glared at me. Still, with her beauty, instead of being intimidating, it just came off as adorable and cute.
I shook my head and went back to drinking my tea.
The moment I did, Xinxin laughed.
I frowned and looked at her. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Sifu. Just… I’m relieved.” She smiled and said, “You’re still the same as ever.”
My heart throbbed. Face with that beautiful and bright expression, I found it hard to speak. Still, I somehow managed to get my emotions under control and said, “You should have known better to think I’d be any different. You on the other hand…”
Xinxin leaned back and crossed her arms, puffing out her chest. “I grew up, right?”
“If you mean that you grew more talkative and impudent, then yes.”
She pouted, pursing her soft pink lips.
I purposefully ignored looking at her and closed my eyes, taking a long drink from my tea.
…This couldn’t continue. Xinxin and her affection… it was only a result from me twisting her mind. From building a dependency on me after I treated her both terribly and well. It… wasn’t true affection. And me taking advantage of it like this…
“Is something wrong, Sifu?”
I opened my eyes.
Xinxin was leaning over the table, propping her head on her right hand and peering into my face. “You look worried.”
I stared at her for a while and then sighed. “Xinxin.”
Did she realize the seriousness in my voice? She immediately leaned back and smoothed her expression, nodding. “Yes, Sifu?”
“Why did you follow me?”
She blinked and then frowned. “I… don’t understand. Why would I not follow you? You’re my Sifu.”
I shook my head. “You have to know what I did. To both you and to your clan. To countless innocent people. Why are you… Why do you still care about me?”
Xinxin stared at me for a bit and then laughed.
I glared at her. “I’m being serious here.”
She shook her head and then hid her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry, Sifu. It’s just… Is that all you’re worried about?”
“Hm?”
Xinxin set down her tea cup and then said in a soft voice, “Sifu. You… You are my everything. The one who gave me strength. The one who reached out his hand to me when no one else did. The one who put up with my hopeless and naïve young self and led me to become the woman I am now.”
“That’s…” The sincerity and affection in those words… Hearing them was like a blade straight to my heart. “…You’re delusional. I’m not that good of a person.”
“You might believe that, but I know better, Sifu. You pulled me out of the darkness when there was no one else… when you could have gone on by yourself as well.” She paused and lowered her gaze. “It’s true that it might have been chance, mere coincidence that we met. And you did it on a whim… but it doesn’t change the fact that you changed my life for the better.”
For the better she said… but was it really for the better?
Like she said, I was her everything. There was nothing and no one else for her.
But there could have been.
If I had never met her… If I hadn’t drawn the goddess’s attention… If-
I cut my thoughts off.
There was no point in wallowing. Instead, I focused on the person in front of me. On my dear disciple.
She stared back with a bright smile on her face. “How could I leave you behind? And besides.” She frowned and gave me a fake glare. “You still haven’t kept your promise.”
I paused. “Promise?”
“That’s right! You said you would tell me everything if I got strong enough! Well, I managed to get to you, so I should be more than qualified, right?”
Ah. I remembered now.
After I left her behind, I also left her a note. One that said I would tell her what actually happened to her clan and why I left.
Xinxin continued her glare, waiting for my response.
I shook my head and said, “I’ll tell you later.”
Xinxin let out a huff and crossed her arms. “You’d better! This time you won’t be able to run away.”
“Heh.”
The conversation died down for a bit after that.
I went back to drinking my tea. When I finished, I looked around the room and said, “You never told me where we are.”
“Hm? Ah…” She shook her head and said, “I’m sorry, Sifu. I forgot to tell you. Right now we’re in my house… well, my private grounds.”
“Private grounds?” I frowned. “It looks vaguely familiar… Are we back in your clan’s territory?”
Xinxin’s expression dimmed and she shook her head. “No. That… my home… my world doesn’t exist anymore. Right now we’re in the Sun Kingdom.”
“The Sun Kingdom, huh?”
I remember thinking that it might be a place filled with cultivators taken from another world, but to think that I was spot on… Not to mention the disguise I used in the Northern Empire.
Xinxin nodded. “That’s right. And you don’t have to worry about anything while you’re here.” She puffed out her chest and said, “I don’t want to brag, but I have the highest word here. If anything happen or anyone bothers you, just tell me and I’ll fix it!”
“What if it’s you?”
Xinxin pouted, sticking out her lips. “Siiifu! Stop teasing me!”
Childish. Despite her age, she was acting just like I remembered her… when she had gotten over her fear of me, that was.
That… was strangely nostalgic.
“Anyway,” Xinxin said. “It’s my turn to protect you, so just leave everything to me!”
I scoffed. “As if you can even protect me properly.”
She crossed her arms and said, “I can do a better job than you did protecting me at least.”
I flinched.
Xinxin noticed and her eyes widened.
I pretended that nothing happened and said, “That’s enough. Now, tell me how and where we got here. Why are we in the Sun Kingdom? What happened to me? And… why are you older now?”
“Well, Sifu…”
“To think that karma can work like this…”
I was walking around the sect grounds. The Heaven-Seizing Dragon’s sect grounds. The very same one that I once used as a disguise so long ago.
Remembering that fact, I glanced back down at my clothes.
Xinxin had given me a black robe to change into, saying that my current tattered one wouldn’t do. As a result, I was walking around in a black robe with fine violet embroidery and a dragon emblazoned on it. A design eerily similar to the one that I made when I used that cover story in the Empire.
I had a jade slip hanging from a string around my neck. Apparently it was to signify that I had a high position in the sect and prevent people from bothering me. Not that it mattered either way since I could use my Information Concealment to go unnoticed if I wanted to… Well, for a little bit, anyway. The shortage of mana and my depleted dantian made it difficult to use for long periods of time.
But back to the odd effects of karma… From what Xinxin told me, that One Tin guy was the founder of the Heaven-Seizing Dragon Sect. Not only that, but he had created it for Xinxin, with her being the sect’s fabled Heaven Seizer.
If it wasn’t for the fact that I knew both my disciple and that guy couldn’t be controlled by the goddess, I would have thought it was another scheme planned out by her.
It was just too coincidental, too neat.
But… it wasn’t. At least, not a scheme. Instead, it was just cause and effect.
I shook my head and glanced around my surroundings.
I was in the middle of the sect, not far from Xinxin’s private grounds, and walking along a paved road. In the distance, I could see a stone gate separating the sect from the outer Sun Kingdom, the sprawling city that spread out like a circle around the sect.
Around me, I saw some familiar types of buildings. The sorts with bamboo-tiled roofs and crimson supports. Other than those, there were pagodas and training courtyards scattered here and there within the gated area.
There were a lot of people around. Some were ordinary people with plain clothes, but most wore robes similar to my own. All of them however gave way to me as I passed.
I shook my head. While it was good that I wasn’t being bothered, this was still a bit odd. It wasn’t fear, but… respect? That was new to me.
I went along my way. The plan was to head to the city and take a look around, but as I rounded the corner, I caught sight of a familiar face.
“Hm?”
I stopped and stared at that person.
An elf with dark green eyes and honey-colored hair. While she was wearing a black robe emblazoned with a dragon, indicating she belonged to the sect, and had styled her hair differently, a long ponytail instead of free-flowing, I recognized her.
She walked past me, giving me an idle glance as she passed. But barely a step beyond me she froze and then turned back around to look at me. “You…” She frowned. “Do I know you?” She glanced at my robe and then the jade slip, confusion clear on her face.
I nodded. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Titania?”
Her eyes widened.
HappyVainGlory
Still struggling a bit on time, but I hope the chapter's enjoyable regardless.
We'll probably be slowing things down for a few chapters as our protagonist adjusts to the new setting, but things are still brewing in the background.
Anyway, thanks as always for reading! I'll see you sometime tomorrow!
Here's Xinxin all grown up but wearing some modern clothes. Made using the Mannequin Pro by AR14.works
Spoiler
[collapse]
|
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"Corruption",
"Dao Comprehension",
"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
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"Fantasy World",
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"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
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"Transported into Another World"
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|
“…It appears that humans are the same no matter what where they’re from.”
“Hm?” Xinxin glanced over at Titania and frowned.
The two were walking back through the kingdom, making their way towards the central zone.
The sun was starting to set now, and the sky was darkening. The crowds that had packed the streets were thinning.
Titania stepped closer to Xinxin and muttered, “We are being followed.”
“Ah.” Xinxin nodded. “If you mean those hopeless fools hiding in the dark, I’m already well aware of them.”
From what Xinxin could sense, their pursuers were that arrogant young master as well as a few servants. As she didn’t sense any spiritual fluctuations from the servants, it seemed like they were just simple thugs.
Xinxin sighed. “I suppose we should deal with them before heading back… It’d be bothersome to explain things to that guy otherwise.” She glanced at Titania and said, “This will be a good opportunity for you to showcase yours skills as well.”
“Showcase my skills?”
Xinxin shook her head and then turned to walk down an alleyway.
Titania followed her.
The few sounds and already thinned crowd around Xinxin and Titania faded away, leaving only behind eerie silence and an abandoned alleyway.
But that didn’t last long. Barely a few paces down the alleyway, a young man walked out to block the way.
“You foolish women. You should have-“
Xinxin rolled her eyes and stepped behind Titania. “Hurry up and deal with this. There aren’t any witnesses, so just wipe them all out so we can go.”
The young master’s eyes narrowed. “You dare?! I, Jian Hao will not be-“
Titania ignored him and looked at Xinxin. “I… do not know how to fight without a sword.”
Xinxin sighed. She reached out to her side and quickly formed one with qi before handing it Titania. “There. It won’t last long, but it should be enough. Now go.” She pushed Titania forward and said, “I want to get back before the sun sets.”
“Y-You!” The young master’s face turned red and he pointed his finger at them. “You will rue the day you crossed Jian Hao! Men!”
Three muscular men walked out from behind the young master.
One was bald with a scar across his face, carrying a large cleaver.
Another had a wild, untamed beard and smiled with crooked teeth, clutching an axe.
The last was just grotesque, his face smeared and distorted from countless injuries. That one wore a pair of claws, scraping them together as he stared at Xinxin and Titania.
The bald one tilted his head back and said, “The usual, boss?”
“Shut up and get them already!”
Xinxin sighed. Maybe she should find a male servant. It would be less of a hassle, that was for sure…
The three muscular men advanced.
Titania swung her sword a few times and then nodded. After that, she looked up at the men and said, “This will be quick.”
The bald one pointed his cleaver at Titania and said, “You dare underestimate the Triple Threat!? It will be your last, Girl!”
When she heard that name, Xinxin felt like covering her face out of shame for those three.
Triple Threat… of all the names they could have chosen, they called themselves that. What was with this kingdom and those operating in the underworld calling themselves by so unoriginal and uninspired names?
Was it tradition? Coincidence? Or just sheer stupidity?
Xinxin didn’t know… but she knew that they were obnoxious and idiotic.
Still, while she was embarrassed at the shameless trio, she kept a close eye on them… or specifically on the one that would be fighting them.
The bald man charged, cleaver raised for a heavy slash.
Titania shook her head. “…Slow. Those damned soldiers were faster than you.”
Frost gathered around the blade in Titania’s hand. At the same time, a stream of wind flowed.
“That is…” Xinxin frowned when she saw that.
The ability was similar to what Xinxin did in the past. Channeling the elements into her blade and using it to attack… that was something she had done in the past after learning the technique her Sifu left for her.
Yet… while Titania’s ability was similar, it was also different.
If Xinxin’s technique drew power from herself and transformed it to the elements, Titania’s technique drew in power from outside that already aligned with those elements.
Ice and wind gathered, clinging to Titania’s sword as if it was a matter of course.
If the bald man saw it, he didn’t care. With a sneer, he swung his cleaver towards Titania’s side.
The elf’s eyes narrowed and she swung her sword. Like a blossoming azure flower, snow and wind scattered as her blade cut through the air. Not long after, crimson joined it, falling like scarlet petals.
The bald man froze, unable to move a single step forward. And then there was a loud crack. Following that, he collapsed into a pile of bloody slush.
“First brother!” The bearded man screamed and then ran at Titania with red eyes.
The elf turned to the bearded man. Immediately, her eyes darkened and she grit her teeth. “You…! You look like him. That bastard who-“ Her words cut off and she growled, swinging her sword again.
Instead of a flower, that time the ice and wind formed a whip. A flash of blue cut across the air.
The bearded man stopped moving, eyes wide in shock. And then, slowly, he fell to the ground, split in half.
The last man took a step back, his grotesque face twisted further in fear. “F-First brother… S-Second brother!” He turned to the young master standing behind him and said, “You said that they were just ordinary girls!”
That young master took a step back. “I-I thought they were!”
“You liar! You damned li-“
Blood burst from the man’s chest as an icicle pierced his heart.
“-ar… Kuh.”
Titania pulled her sword back, turning the icicle back into an icy wind coiling around her blade.
The final man fell to the ground, unmoving.
Watching all of that, Xinxin had to revise her opinion of the elf. Despite everything, she was fairly skilled. At least, her understanding of the sword and her abilities were enough to where Xinxin didn’t have to worry about her dying in a casual fight.
Titania seemed to have a decent combat sense about her, as well as a good amount of killing intent. Much better than Xinxin had before meeting her Sifu, at least.
Though… that made Xinxin wonder. Just how did she end up as a slave if she was that skilled, let alone suffer those injuries? Even if someone tried to force themselves upon her, she should have at least been able to-
“Hee!”
A shrill scream echoed in the alleyway.
Xinxin looked up to see the young master completely encased in a layer of ice.
Titania slowly walked towards the young man, her face twisted in fury. “You…” Her voice came out as a harsh whisper. “Dirty monkeys like you are the reason why my sisters and I…!” She bit her tongue and shook her head. “You will not die a clean death. You will not die a painless death.”
“W-W-Wait!” The young master shook his head and said, “I’m the son of the Blue Moon Sect Leader! If you kill me, you’ll regret it!“
Titania continued advancing and muttered, “I will tear your limbs apart, scatter your entrails upon the ground, tear out your heart, shatter your skull and-!”
“Enough.” Xinxin waved her hand and freed the young master from the ice.
Titania froze and turned around to look at Xinxin. Her eyes were dark, hollow. At the same time, a glimmer of madness was within.
For a split second, it looked like she was going to lash out with her sword. But then reason returned to her and she took a slow breath to calm down.
“…Forgive me. I lost myself for a moment. But Master.” She turned to the young man on the ground and scowled. “Do you truly intend to let scum like that live?”
Before Xinxin could answer, Jian Hao was already knocking his head down against the ground in a kowtow. “Great Senior! I had eyes, but could not see Mt. Tai! Thank you, thank you for your mercy!”
Xinxin’s nose wrinkled. “…Senior?”
“A-Ah!” Jian Hao shuddered and he quickly said, “I-I meant beautiful fairy! Illustrious immortal who is envied throughout the heavens!” He slammed his head against the ground and said, “I was but a frog stuck in a well! Please, forgive me!”
Titania tightened her grip around her sword. At the same time, the air became cold. “…Shameless, despicable scum. You… you have ‘their’ eyes.” She shook her head and turned to Xinxin. “He will not change. The moment we leave, he will look for another maiden to defile, another ‘doll’ to enjoy and then break. You…” The wind grew heavy. “…are going to let him live?”
Xinxin tilted her head and stared at the young man on the ground.
He was shivering in fear… but at the same time, he had not lost himself to it. One who knew when to retreat and when to advance. Or perhaps he was hoping that his name would be enough of a deterrent.
“Master.” Titania looked at Xinxin. “Your answer. I would have it.”
“Quite pertinent for my servant, aren’t you?” Xinxin shook her head. “But you do have a point.”
Jian Hao raised his head. “I am willing to sign a soul contract! I swear, from this point onward, I will never-“
Xinxin shook her head and walked over. “That’s unnecessary.” At the same time, she dropped her disguise, returning to her original appearance.
Jian Hao’s eyes widened. “Un… necessary?”
Xinxin smiled and held out her left hand. “That’s right. After all, I have everything I could need from you already.”
He paused and said, “What do yo-“
His words never finished.
Darkness unfolded from Xinxin’s hand and enveloped Jian Hao. Whether because of Xinxin’s experience due to the Dark Tournament, or because of the young man’s lack of expertise, he instantly turned into a pile of ash. Moments later, even that pile of ash vanished, leaving no traces behind.
Xinxin clenched her left hand, frowning as she felt the current of new power coursing through her body. “Water and ice, hm? But so weak… I suppose it’s better than nothing.”
Steady accumulation. That was Xinxin’s aim. With her cultivation, it was only a matter of time to increase her strength. ‘Chaos’ and ‘Darkness’ could become anything. She simply needed a sample to work with.
“…A pity there weren’t any other elementalists in the Dark Tournament.” Xinxin sighed and turned to look at Titania.
The elf stared back with wide eyes. “You… no, that power…?”
Xinxin paused and then narrowed her eyes. “You recognize my power?”
Could it be?
Of course. She was one of the women around-
A headache. Xinxin frowned and ignored it for the moment, focusing on Titania.
The elf slowly shook her head. “No. It was different. But… I met someone who gave a similar aura as that… as you.”
“Did you now?”
A similar power… that could be explained away as a demon. But a similar ‘aura’? The ‘Chaos’ and ‘Darkness’ that her Sifu left her should be unique. The enlightenments that he and, as his disciple, only Xinxin should know.
Titania scowled. “Yes. That man saved my worthless excuse of a sister.” She paused. “…Though I suppose I cannot blame him. Aria was always blessed by that damned goddess.”
Aria.
Goddess.
Xinxin felt another headache. She clutched her head and then glared at Titania. “Explain. Now.”
Yes… explain. She had to get an explanation. Xinxin felt that if she didn’t, her head would split. No, that she had to get an explanation or her very foundation would crumble.
“What happened to not needing my-“
“Elf! You will explain… or I will kill you and learn myself.”
Panic. Pain. Headache. Confusion.
Was it the influence of her Sifu, or something else? Either way, Xinxin wasn’t in the mood for games.
Titania seemed to realize it as well and sighed. “…Understood. Then… it began a week ago. The Imperial Soldiers came to Alvheim bearing chaos, distorting all mana and rendering us powerless. In that time, they slaughtered my kin, captured my sisters, and-“ Titania cut off and let out a long, shuddering breath. She shook her head and said, “…My sister. The youngest. She escaped. Somehow, she managed to live… at the expense of myself and my other sisters. Other elven women.”
Xinxin nodded.
That… seemed familiar to her. But why? Pieces, fragments… things she should not know, did not know, but recalled somewhere deep inside.
Titania continued and said, “…There was a young man and a beautiful young woman with silver hair and azure eyes. They rescued us from our captors… yet sided with my youngest sister. Her, the damned child blessed by the goddess due to her golden hair. The one who maintained her purity and naivety to the very end! Who was saved without so much as a scratch upon her body! Whereas we… we…!”
Tears streamed down Titania’s cheeks and her eyes were haunted with pain.
Even so, Xinxin found her attention drawn elsewhere.
What Titania described…
“That dragon’s devoted but a bit unreliable. Nothing like you, eh, faithful companion?”
…A fragment of a memory. A glimpse at something she knew, but did not know.
But it was enough. Perhaps satisfied with that answer, Xinxin’s head no longer felt like it was splitting apart.
At the same time, Titania managed to calm down. The elf let out a slow breath and said, “Not long after that, we fell victim to captors again.” Titania waved her hand and said, “My sisters, broken and dead. Only I… only myself. I was the only one who lived. This body of mine, trained to defend and protect… in the end, its only use was to keep me alive, and me alone.” She gave Xinxin a crooked smile and said, “Satisfied?”
“I-“
Before Xinxin could respond, a youthful male voice called out. “Great Heaven-Seizer! There you are!”
A young man with short black hair ran into the alleyway, followed by a young woman with blue hair in a pony-tail and a tomboyish girl with dark brown hair.
Erik and his fellow disciples, Mary, the blue-haired young woman, and Sarah, the tomboy with dark brown hair.
Xinxin frowned. “What are you three doing here, running around like headless chickens?”
“The Heavenly King has gone into his final closed door cultivation! He could pass at any moment!”
Xinxin’s heart throbbed. “What?”
HappyVainGlory
Real life stuff took much longer than expected today. Hope you don't mind the late chapter and that it's fairly enjoyable. I think there's about... three? Chapters left until we come across our nameless protagonist again. As for how and why... well, there was a certain route early on that came to a sudden end...
Thanks as always for reading and leaving any comments. I really appreciate it.
I'll see you sometime tomorrow... hopefully much earlier than the time of this update.
|
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|
The heart of Yggdrasil was what I once thought to be just a chamber hidden in the inner depths of Alvheim. It was mostly the same as I remembered it being in the future, despite my alternate entrance. The major difference was the atmosphere, sacred and filled with life rather than desolate and dead.
Roots swirled around the chamber, gathering around an orb of glowing green light in the center. Within it, I could see a sword suspended within the radiance.
TAKE IT.
A splitting headache and a flash of a memory.
I grimaced and clutched my head with my left hand.
After a few moments, the headache passed. I sighed and stepped forward, glancing around.
I didn’t need Analyze to see the patterns of mana woven into the area. They shone with enough power that it could be seen with the naked eye. Patterns that formed barriers to protect Alvheim. Patterns that formed lines of communications throughout the Ancient Forest. Patterns that formed what were essentially trip-wires, detecting whenever those with hostile intent drew near.
Powerful but simple. The patterns did their job and did it well, but they weren’t enough.
I watched how the patterns wove into each other and interacted. Where I couldn’t comprehend them, I used Analyze. Coupled with my experience from seeing the barriers on the outskirts of Alvheim and my Absolute Memory, it didn’t take long before I could figure out where to place my additions.
Anti-magic formed in my right hand. Though it served as the antithesis of mana, the properties were similar. Slowly, carefully, I twisted what little I could muster into threads, weaving them into patterns like the ones I saw.
“Hello.” A voice echoed from just beside my right ear.
I froze. After making sure that the Anti-magic remained secure and far away from the existing mana patterns, I turned my head to look at the source of the voice.
A young girl in a dark brown dress floated in the air next to me. Short, light green hair drifted in a non-existent breeze while her bright emerald eyes stared straight into my own. She smiled and shifted her body as if she was leaning on the ground, elbows knelt and propping up her head with her hands.
“…Hello,” I said.
The girl stared at me for a little bit and then said, “You’re weird. Did you know that?”
I thought about her words and then said, “And you must be Yggdrasil?”
The girl shook her head. “Iggy.”
“Hm?”
The girl pouted and said, “My name is Iggy. Yggdrasil is too long and boooring.”
“…Sure, Iggy.” So the spirit of Yggdrasil was a young child. That meant that the World Tree wasn’t that old yet in terms of its general lifespan.
A splitting headache and another flash of a memory. A young girl’s sobs and pained screams.
I flinched, but managed to keep my expression neutral.
Yggdrasil… or rather, Iggy, tilted her head and said, “So whatcha doing, Mister Weird?”
I turned my gaze back to the thread of Anti-magic in my hands and said, “I’m making sure your heart is safe.”
“Safe?”
I nodded. “Bad people are going to come here soon to try and steal what you keep in your heart.”
Iggy gasped. “They can’t!”
I looped my thread of Anti-magic through the pattern of mana, carefully forging a circuit, and then said, “They can. And they will… if I don’t set this up.”
Iggy drifted closer, moving near the thread of Anti-magic.
I frowned and said, “Could you not do that?”
“…But it’s weird,” Iggy said. “It feels really tingly.”
I spiraled a thread of chaos mana around the Anti-magic and said, “I don’t doubt it. Chaos mana and Anti-magic would definitely feel strange to you.” Well, more like lethal. I didn’t say that though.
Iggy nodded and remained quiet, content to watch me work.
I took advantage of the silence and completed a few circuits. An Anti-magic barrier to trigger when the defensive barriers fell. A Chaos barrier to reinforce the existing mana barriers. Anti-magic fail-safes, chaotic reinforcement… if anyone thought they could break the spells by short-circuiting them with chaos magic or Anti-magic they would be in for a surprise.
Perhaps realizing that I was finished with the delicate work, Iggy said, “Hey, Mister Weird.”
“What is it?”
“Iggy!”
I sighed and said, “What is it, Iggy?”
“Why is your soul split up into a bunch of pieces?”
I froze and slowly turned towards her. “…What are you talking about?”
Iggy leaned back, changing her position to sit cross-legged, and then held out her hands, palms raised. “This is what a normal soul looks like.”
A white orb appeared above her hands, radiating a powerful light.
“Sometimes, people have different attributes so the color changes.”
After saying that, the orb in Iggy’s hands changed its hue, shifting from green to red to blue.
“But Mister,” Iggy said. “Yours looks like this.”
The orb turned back to white and then shattered. Bits and pieces drifted in the air like splinters of glass caught in orbit. The white light vanished, broken up into its individual waves. The orbs still glowed, but it was a kaleidoscope. All the colors making up white were still present, but they had been scattered into separate parts, now distinct from the whole. But more worrying than that, peering in the depths of the orb there were hollow parts, black areas where light didn’t shine.
It was wrong.
“That’s… impossible.”
Impossible. A soul should not be like that. Could not be like that. And definitely not my soul, not with my ability.
Iggy nodded. “I know! And look, the inside’s all empty.” The young girl made another light and shone in through the center. The black areas instantly lit up, showing that they were empty space rather than bits of darkness.
A chill crept up my spine. The implication of that…
Iggy clapped her hands together, making the orbs disappear, and then turned to face me. “So, Mister Weird. What are you?”
“I…“
“Curses, girl! Use your wind magic properly!”
“You think I’m not trying?!”
Saphira roared and breathed crimson lightning at a crowd of shadowy figures.
After escaping from the house, Saphira turned into her dragon form and tossed both Aria and Titania on her back before flying into the air.
In response to that, the shadowy figure had summoned a small army of similar shadowy beings, although with different forms and statures.
Saphira’s breath attack vaporized half of the shadowy beings, but the other half continued to fly through the air, racing towards the girls.
Aria lifted her left hand and said, “Spirits of Wind! Fall and become my shield! Dark Tempest!”
True to the spell’s name, a vortex of dark wind swirled around Saphira, buying the trio a momentary breather.
“Elf!” Saphira said.
Titania flinched, snapped from her daze at the sudden events. “What is it?”
“Where is my Master?”
“Your Master?”
“Of for the love of-“ Aria cursed and said, “Lord Nazin, Tani! Where’s Lord Nazin?”
“Oh! Lord Nazin went to meet with father half an hour ago!”
Aria grimaced, feeling the strain from maintaining her spell. “When do you think he’ll be back?”
“Any moment now?”
“Elf!”
“I don’t know, alright!? He left me behind without telling me anything!”
“Useless! Even the girl does better!”
“Th-that is-“
Aria groaned. “Stop arguing and get ready! I can’t hold this any longer!”
At that time, a distorted voice echoed. “Dark wind, twist and die…”
“Girl! Let go of your spell!”
Aria quickly did as she was told and relinquished her grasp on the dark tempest. The moment she did, that voice continued.
“…Cruel Gale’s Demise.”
The tempest screeched and then shattered, as if an invisible creature ripped it apart.
When the wind died, the shadowy beings reemerged. The difference was that the numbers had more than doubled the original count, almost blanketing out the blue sky.
Aria panted, exhausted from forcibly terminating her spell. “Any… bright ideas… lizard?”
“Only one, girl. But I can scarcely believe that they will provide an opportunity.”
“Probably… not.”
Aria turned her gaze back towards the army of shadow beings.
The original figure still floated in the air near their ruined home. Perhaps it felt that the army of shadow beings was enough, or perhaps it had lost all sense of self-preservation after its powerful attack, it remained there unmoving.
Not that it helped their situation anymore knowing that. Even if the original shadowy figure didn’t move, the army of shadow beings surrounding them was more than enough.
“Ari.”
Aria felt a hand placed on her shoulder. Her eyes widened and she glanced back to see Titania standing. “Tani?”
The eldest princess of Alvheim smiled and said, “Allow me.”
Aria shook her head. “No, Tani. You can’t-“
Before she could say anything else, Titania leapt through the air.
“Oh spirits of wind, lend me your strength and be my wings. Flight!”
Titania’s falling body slowed and then rose back up. At the same time, she held out her right and left hands holding the hilts of swords that didn’t yet exist. “Oh spirits of ice, lend me your strength and be my blades. Frost Edge!”
Titania’s empty hands were filled, and she armed herself with a matching pair of light blue long swords.
“Argh! Stupid Tani!” Aria jumped off Saphira as well and raced after Titania. “You’d better work fast, Fi! If Tani dies because of this, I’m going to tell Nowun!”
“H-Hmph. Needless worries!”
“Then hurry!”
HappyVainGlory
Found a cool site that lets you make neat fantasy styled maps so have a simplified version of Asifant. Open the spoiler to see it.
Spoiler
[collapse]
|
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"chapters": 147,
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"Accelerated Growth",
"Amnesia",
"Arranged Marriage",
"Cold Protagonist",
"Corruption",
"Dao Comprehension",
"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
"Enemies Become Allies",
"Fantasy World",
"Fated Lovers",
"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
"Interconnected Storylines",
"Multiple POV",
"Multiple Timelines",
"Multiple Transported Individuals",
"Past Plays a Big Role",
"Personality Changes",
"Skill Assimilation",
"Time Manipulation",
"Transplanted Memories",
"Transported into Another World"
]
}
|
Moonlight filtered in through the dense tree branches, barely illuminating the forest ground. Night had fallen while I explored the perimeter of Alvheim to memorize its protective barriers and reinforce them with my own. As a result, my ability to handle and analyze mana increased, although it wasn’t reflected on my status page.
It was quiet. No wind, no movement. Like the calm before a storm, the Ancient Forest was silent and still.
I held my faithful companion (stick) in my right hand and walked, ignoring the trail of monster carcasses behind me and the minor headache I had.
While there was barely any light, there was plenty of darkness. And because there was darkness, I could see, the shadows acting for me like a spotlight would for others.
My destination was the northern part of the Ancient Forest.
In the other timeline, Titania had warned me of the emperor sending out his army of Braves to deal with any survivors. While I didn’t know how she obtained that information, I could guess. The imperial soldiers would have wanted to resort to whatever they could to break the elven morale. That fact would have been enough to drive more than a few battered elves into despair.
Although this was a different time, the goddess’s words and my own experiences had shown that events converged. Varied they may be, the same events would unfold in a certain order.
I didn’t know if the timing of events had shifted due to my actions, but if they did they would have shifted to occur earlier rather than later.
And that meant-
A giant snake with glistening black scales lunged towards me from a tree in front of me. Its fangs dripped with corrosive venom, and a maw capable of swallowing me whole in a single bite widened before my eyes.
I swung my right hand, and then there was a soft thump as the snake’s head landed on the ground before me. Not long after, its body collapsed onto the forest floor and thrashed about in its death throes. In the end, it died to its greed like the countless other monsters I had encountered on my walk and added to my growing power.
Power. Something that I would need a lot of in the coming days.
…And also something I would have expected the goddess to comment about, but she was oddly quiet.
That didn’t bode well for me. With her whimsical nature, who knew what surprises would show up in the near future?
I walked. This time, no monsters were brave enough to lunge out despite the enticing mana I exuded. It seemed like the buffet I had enjoyed wandering about had come to an end.
But an even bigger meal was going to start.
There were lights in the dark forest. Fire light. Although they were miles away, in the pitch black of the forest grounds, they shone like a beacon.
I concealed my presence and mana. At the same time, my body melded into the shadows, my affinity towards darkness utilized to its full extent.
Akira yawned as he patrolled the campgrounds, inwardly cursing his classmates. After a full day of marching and combat practice, they got to sleep in while he was out there in the dark woods by himself.
And that wasn’t even taking into account that bastard Kouki. It was enough that he already had two of the school’s beauties at his side, but he even took along the reliable transfer student into his party to undergo secret training in the capital!
“Dammit. Why couldn’t I be the hero? I have a strong cheat too…”
On that day, everyone in his class had been summoned into a white void. There they were greeted by a goddess who explained that they were going to be transported to another world to fight against the Demon Lord and his army. Because it was unfair to expect that of a single person, she decided to send everyone in their same grade. Even so, since Kouki was the one that the transportation spell locked on to, he was made the ‘Brave’, the one fated to clash against the Demon Lord in single combat.
Akira called bull on that. Sure, Kouki was fairly handsome and good at kendo, but that was it. His grades were in the bottom half of the class and his personality was completely annoying. In fact, if it wasn’t because of befriending the transfer student on the first day of class and being the childhood friend of the school’s number one beauty, he would have been nothing!
Even as the Brave, the only thing that made Kouki special was being able to use Light magic. His talent with a sword was so-so and his magical power was only slightly above the rest of the class.
In contrast, Akira possessed ‘Reading’, an ability that let him parse everything around him. With it, he managed to master the Imperial Swordsmanship, master the basic elemental magic, and even gain some proficiency in that chaos magic the empire tried so hard to keep hidden.
If their transportation to another world was a story, then by all rights Akira should have been the protagonist. Instead, there he was being put on patrol like a worthless mob because his ability made it convenient to spot out dangers.
“…Stupid classmates. Stupid soldiers. Stupid Goddess.”
Akira carressed the sword on his side and muttered, “One more week. After that, I’ll take back the spotlight by force if I have to. The hero should be me, not that brainless idiot.”
Akira was the one who scored in the top of the class.
Akira was the one voted as class representative.
Akira was the one with the most cheat-like power there.
He should be the one hailed as a hero, not some muscle-head spouting justice and other delusional things.
But that idiot could enjoy his role while he still had it. Now that he had ‘read’ some of Kouki’s light magic into a sword, it wouldn’t be long until their roles switched.
Akira shook his head. “Enough fantasizing.”
Even though he disliked his position, he still had to play it out thoroughly. As much as he hated that it was true, he was indeed the best person for the job of patrol.
Akira scanned the forest trees for monsters, but came up with nothing but darkness for miles around. Assured, he walked around, continually scanning for hostiles.
With nothing but silence, Akira’s mind started to wander. “…I wonder how much of what the emperor said was true?”
The elves teaming up with the Demon Lord. While it wasn’t too much of a stretch, the usual stories didn’t follow that development. From what Akira had read at the imperial library, the elves were the guardians of Yggdrasil as well as the ones who first taught humans of magic. Rather than enemies, they were benefactors. Yet, they had decided to turn on humans and join forces with the Demon Lord, a physical embodiment of darkness?
Akira found it fishy.
He wasn’t like the muscle-headed Kouki who blindly believed in that emperor, or like the sheep that followed that idiot.
Furthermore, while the soldiers traveling with them hid it well, they couldn’t hide the lust and desire that occurred whenever elves were brought up, especially not from his eyes.
Akira patrolled while lost in thought. Reaching the south side of the campgrounds, he found a giant boulder and sat down.
From the stories he had read, elves were always portrayed as the good guys. The exception would be dark elves, but even then that had usually been a result of some tragedy in the past. For the empire to send soldiers and even Otherworlders to subdue the elves reeked of human greed.
And then there was the lust that Akira had seen in the soldiers. His reader’s instincts were telling him that this was a bad plan, but he wasn’t prepared enough to strike out on his own quite yet.
Maybe he should-
A black line flew towards his neck.
Akira’s eyes widened and he hurriedly jumped back, drawing his sword to parry.
Light met dark and was devoured. At the same time, the surroundings were shrouded in shadows, a pitch black void replacing the Ancient Forest.
There was a figure standing before Akira. Wreathed in spiralling shadows and emanating oppressive mana, it was clear that the figure didn’t have good intentions.
But most importantly of all…
“I… can’t read you?”
The all-powerful ability Akira had gained from being transported to this new world, the trustworthy cheat he relied upon to increase his strength, the fool-proof power that showed even the unfathomable depths of the emperor’s strength.
For the first time, it failed.
The figure tilted its head and then raised its right arm. With that act, a blade forged from darkness emerged.
“…I don’t believe it,” Akira said. “I don’t believe that I can’t read you!”
Akira raised his sword and narrowed his eyes.
A headache. Blood rushed to his brain, enough to where it felt like it would burst from the pressure. His eyes blurred, his vision dyed red as blood vessels popped from the strain. Akira’s resolve fueled his power and his determination bore a single fruit.
But it was bittersweet.
“Demon Lord… Nazin?”
The figure- no, the Demon Lord charged.
My faithful companion (stick) cut through the air towards the student’s neck. Yet, strangely again he managed to parry.
I was confused for a while until I saw his eyes. The irises were a deep crimson hue, partially with blood, and had a pinwheel design.
“So you’re reading a bit into the future. Interesting, but pointless.”
I was just testing the waters, something I decided to do after I remembered my bitter defeat in the future. It seemed like the summoned person in front of me wasn’t that powerful though, even if he had the eyes of a certain ninja clan.
“Dragon’s Grasp.”
The barrier of darkness I established to hide our fight converged, wrapping around the patrolling student.
His eyes widened and his sword shone with light, exuding a pure white mana, but it was pointless. Darkness enveloped the light yet again, and then there was nothing left of the student.
The shadows dispersed, returning the surroundings to normal.
I stared at the campsite the student had been patrolling around.
It was an artificial forest clearing. In complete disregard of the natural environment, the trees that had lived for thousands of years had been cut down. Their trunks were tossed haphazardly to the side, not even being used to create a natural barricade. Instead, like rubbish, they were carelessly strewn together in a tangled mess.
In the place of the ancient trees, countless tents made of cotton and wooden poles dotted the clearing. Circles of about four to five tents each surrounded a campfire, and throughout the clearing there were at least twenty of those circles.
Yet, whether because they overestimated the strength of their patrolman, or because they were confident in being able to handle whatever opponents emerged regardless, there was no one awake.
I adjusted my grip on my faithful companion and it seemed to thrum with excitement. In response, I fed it mana, condensing a blade of pure darkness and imbued with chaos.
I stepped forward, idly swinging my faithful companion to test its weight, and then said, “I wonder if I’ll get a title for this? What do you think, Goddess?”
Again, there was no reply from her. However, I did get a response from my faithful companion. It hummed with power, as if telling me to rely on it. And, while it didn’t say anything, I somehow got a sense that it was telling me I didn’t need any powers from that goddess.
I laughed. “All of this acting and time leaping must be driving me crazy. A stick can’t communicate. But still, wouldn’t that be interesting? An insane person with a perfect memory whose sanity is kept in check only by a stick…” I shook my head at the wild thought and headed towards the nearest tent.
Opening the flap, I was met at the sight of four grown men, sprawled about some mats. Imperial soldiers, judging from the discarded suits of armor shoved against the tent’s side. All of them were sleeping and completely unaware of my entrance.
Stab. Pierce. Slash. Sever. In four moves, one tent was cleared. Only… ninety or so left to go.
I walked out of the tent, letting the blood stain the floor, and headed towards the next one. Again, there were soldiers. Again, they were killed.
One circle of tents, two, five. After clearing out ten circles, I started to doubt Titania’s warning. Perhaps the soldiers had been bluffing to her to break her morale. Out of the fifty tents I entered, none of them had any person that appeared like they might have been a transmigrator.
I opened the flap to the next tent, resigned for more disappointment. Instead, on seeing the people there, I subconsciously muttered, “Hoh? It looks like somebody’s enjoying the other world life.”
A Japanese male teen was sleeping in the center of the tent. Clinging to either of his arms were two girls, also Japanese.
Judging from the haphazardly strewn piles of clothes all over the tent floor and the faint musk in the air, the three had been enjoying themselves quite well into the night.
“Still, this is careless.”
I shook my head at the sight of the three, but I didn’t let down my guard in case it was a ruse and used Analyze.
“Aki, Yuki, and Haru. Combat potential B and… fast asleep.”
I frowned. This was too easy. I was expecting something more to happen. Usually a time like this was when the protagonist jumped out of nowhere to attack the intruder. That or someone woke up and caused everyone to be on their guard.
Was this a trap? Did the goddess expect me to kill off the Braves to delay the empire? Was that why she didn’t speak up?
I had a headache. I felt like I was forgetting something… and so I hesitated.
In that hesitation, one of the girls yawned and blearily opened her eyes.
I froze, but quickly relaxed. Information Concealment was active. Not only that, but it was dark and I was wrapped in shadows. I was fine.
But then the girl’s eyes focused on me. “…Aki? What are you doing up?” She blinked and then turned her head to look at the boy at her side as if the check he was there.
…It was a coincidence. There was no way she could see me, right?
Suddenly, the girl froze. She turned her gaze back towards me and opened her mouth, her eyes wide in shock.
I swung my faithful companion, but it was too late.
“EEE- grgh!”
Blood sprayed and her words were cut off. But the damage had been done.
The other girl and the boy woke up. I quickly cut them down, but from outside I could hear sounds of people stirring.
“What was that?”
“That scream! Yuki-chan?”
I scowled. “Tch. I don’t know why Information Concealment’s not working… but I guess plan B is still an option.”
I wanted to quietly eliminate the Braves and the soldiers before heading to the capital and assassinating the real hero and his party, but it seemed like that option was shot down. Since the stealth mission was a failure, it wasn’t worth staying any longer than I had to.
Screams echoed through the forest clearing. Panicked shouts for order sounded from the soldiers.
I opened the tent flap.
Seeing the fully armed and wary group of over two hundred soldiers and a hundred Japanese students instantly lock their eyes on me, I muttered, “…Plan C it is.”
I walked out of the tent and raised my faithful companion. At the same time, I released the suppression I had been placing on my mana.
One of the Japanese students nearest to me, a male with glasses and short bangs, gulped and took a step back. “Th-that power… W-who are you?”
I grinned. “Isn’t that obvious?” Darkness gathered around me, forming a crown of black thorns and a cape of shadows. “I am Demon Lord Nazin, the one protecting the elves from you greedy humans. And you are already dead.”
With my words, that student exploded in a pile of gore, shadows crushing his body in an iron grip.
And the battle between the Demon Lord and the Braves truly began.
|
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|
In the middle of the night, where the only illumination came from the faint rays of moonlight from above, Xinxin slowly traversed the bamboo forest. In her right hand, she tightly gripped a bamboo stick.
Silence, save for the occasional breeze and the clattering bamboo trees, filled the air.
Xinxin’s heart raced, but she kept moving. Her eyes flitted about, searching for any signs of profound beasts that might be lurking in the darkness.
She had resolved herself to do her best to meet her Sifu’s expectations, but for her first lesson to survive until morning armed with only a stick… No. She shouldn’t doubt her Sifu. It might seem impossible, but surely there was a way out? That must be the lesson that Sifu was trying to tell her.
Again, silence and the occasional clatter of bamboo filled the air.
Xinxin resisted the urge to shudder, the noise sounding like the laughter of ghosts.
“Remember what Sifu said. Just cut down anything that shows up.” Xinxin muttered those words to calm her racing heart.
Suddenly, something shifted in front of her. A portion of the darkness moved and then revealed two yellow orbs floating in the air.
Xinxin tensed and slowly raised her bamboo stick.
A Shadow Panther slowly approached from between the bamboo trees. It was a low-rank profound beast. Weak, but more than a match for someone that had yet to reach foundation establishment.
Xinxin’s heart pounded in her chest. That was a profound beast! And all she had was a bamboo stick to fight it off. No techniques, no qi, no divine artifact… just an ordinary piece of bamboo her Sifu had broken off and placed in her hands.
Xinxin gulped.
The Shadow Panther charged. True to its name, the beast blended in with the darkness as it moved. Without even a sound of it pouncing, the Shadow Panther attacked, its paws outstretched and its maw wide open.
Xinxin froze from the instinctual fear from a beast of prey lunging at her. The bamboo stick in her hand was forgotten.
The Shadow Panther shoved Xinxin to the ground and tore out her throat.
Pain, shock, despair. Xinxin gasped and struggled beneath the beast. But her delicate body grew cold, blood slowly pooling out beneath her and dyeing her pale skin crimson.
Two yellow orbs stared deep into her eyes and then two rows of ivory teeth clamped around her face.
Xinxin gasped and clutched at her face and neck with her left hand. Cold sweat ran down her back, drenching her silk green robes.
She stood in the middle of the dark bamboo forest, the bamboo stick clenched firmly in her right hand.
A breeze blew through the forest, rattling the bamboo. The sound echoed like the laughter of restless spirits, cackling.
Xinxin shakily lowered her left hand. Was that… a nightmare? A hallucination? But the fear, the pain… it was so real.
“What’s wrong, girl? Cat got your tongue?” Her Sifu’s cold voice drifted through the silent forest and he appeared in front of her.
Perhaps because he had accepted her as a disciple, Xinxin’s Sifu had changed his clothes. Instead of the torn rags, he now wore a pure black robe and matching pants. On any other person, they would have appeared regal. Yet, with the man’s messy hair and pale skin, he looked more like a corpse risen from the dead.
Guilao smirked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“S-Sifu. Did… I just die?”
“Of course not. If you did, you wouldn’t be talking with me right now.”
Xinxin remembered the feeling of those teeth on her face and shivered. “B-but…”
“Hmph. Where did that fearless girl just a few moments ago disappear to? Or was that just an act to try and fool me?” Guilao narrowed his eyes. “Because if it was… your story ends here.”
Xinxin shook her head. “No, Sifu. It… it was nothing.”
Right. Nothing. The feeling of those claws tearing into her throat. The sensation of her face being torn apart.
It was just a hallucination. A vivid delusion from being in the dark.
…Xinxin just had to keep believing that.
“Good.” Guilao nodded. “Then this is your first lesson: explore the forest and survive until morning. If anything shows up, just cut it down. Understand?”
Xinxin thought it was strange. Didn’t Sifu just tell her that a few minutes ago? Or had she imagined the talk in the first place?
“Girl.”
Xinxin blinked.
Her Sifu was staring at her. He frowned and tapped a finger on his leg impatiently.
Xinxin nodded. “Yes, Sifu. I understand.”
Guilao vanished, and then Xinxin was alone.
Xinxin felt an odd sense of incongruity, but she shook her head. “It must be the night. I’m just not used to being out alone by myself.”
She took a deep breath to calm herself and then cautiously traversed through the bamboo forest. The trail she followed was familiar, and her steps were like tracing an old memory.
Silence, along with the occasional clattering of bamboo filled the air.
Xinxin paused and then carefully observed the area in front of her.
Something was standing there, crouched in the darkness. Slowly, it turned towards her and revealed two glowing yellow eyes.
That piece of darkness moved, leisurely ambling towards her. A Shadow Panther.
Xinxin remembered what happened, the feeling of her neck being torn out, her face being ripped apart.
The Shadow Panther lunged.
Xinxin’s body moved on its own and she lashed out with the bamboo stick.
The beast yelped and moved to the side. It quickly got up, however, and then growled. The silent beast of prey had tossed aside its usual approach and glared at the one that attacked it.
Xinxin’s heart pounded and she glanced at her right hand, still holding out the bamboo stick. That hadn’t been a conscious action. Instead, when she thought of how she would experience that pain and agony again, her body had moved on its own.
Could that be what Sifu was trying to-
The Shadow Panther roared, causing violet light to surge around it, and then lunged towards Xinxin.
She felt an impact on her chest and searing pain.
This time, instead of two rows of teeth, a paw with razor sharp claws filled her vision.
Xinxin gasped and swung her bamboo stick.
Something grabbed it.
Panic gripped her heart and Xinxin pulled with all her might, trying to get it free.
“Careful girl. You’ll take an eye out doing that.”
Xinxin blinked and slowly regained awareness of her surroundings.
The dark bamboo forest. Her Sifu standing nearby, his eyes narrowed in irritation.
“Sifu…?”
Xinxin slowly turned her head and looked around.
A dark bamboo forest. Not far from them, the remains of their campground, the embers of the fire still smoldering.
“What, girl? Cat got your tongue?”
Guilao stood directly before her. His left hand was wrapped around the other end of Xinxin’s bamboo stick, keeping her from moving it.
“I… I think that I might need some sleep, Sifu.”
Xinxin let go of her bamboo stick and took a step back. “I’m… not feeling too well.”
She felt dizzy. Nauseous. The sensation of her skin being ripped apart, her face being shredded-
Xinxin paled and quickly ran to the side before bending over to vomit. She didn’t care for her Sifu’s thoughts or for how she looked. The pain, the agony… the horrific memory of falling prey to the Shadow Panther kept resurfacing and caused her to vomit out the fish she had eaten earlier.
A sigh sounded in the silent forest. Xinxin’s Sifu shook his head and said, “This was a failure.”
Xinxin wiped her mouth and muttered, “I’m sorry, Sifu.”
“Come over here, girl.”
Xinxin nodded and walked towards Sifu Guilao, coming to a stop a few steps away from him.
Her cold Sifu showed a flicker of an unreadable emotion and he said, “Hold out your hands.”
She did. Her mind was too tired to do anything other than obey his commands.
Sifu placed the bamboo stick back into her hands and closed them. After that, he looked Xinxin in the eyes and said, “Get over it.”
Before Xinxin could question it, Sifu was gone and she was alone.
Something shifted in the darkness. Two yellow eyes hung ominously in mid-air.
Xinxin’s breath caught in her chest. Her heart pounded and she took a step back.
The Shadow Panther lunged.
A surge of panic. Her body moved on its own and she lashed out with the bamboo stick.
The beast yelped and moved to the side. It quickly got back up and growled. Violet light began gathering around it.
Nausea welled up inside Xinxin and her vision spun.
The Shadow Panther charged.
Xinxin’s body swayed.
The Shadow Panther missed. But it was still moving. It wouldn’t take long before it would come back around for another attack.
Xinxin could already feel the pain of its attack. Feel the blood leaving her body. Feel the sickening sensation of her skull being torn open.
Her stomach twisted and her body moved. Before the beast made another attack, before her body was torn apart, Xinxin dashed forward. Wrapping the bamboo stick tight in both her hands, she lashed out at the panther’s skull.
It flinched from the sudden blow and shook its head, stunned.
Xinxin swung the stick again.
And again.
And again.
The sound of bamboo striking flesh echoed over and over in the dark forest. Despite the force put behind each strike, the bamboo stick never broke, the fresh sprout bending but never shattering.
Xinxin’s vision blurred and she was standing in front of Sifu back at their campsite, the fire still roaring.
He stared at her, smirking. “So. How does it feel to get over the memory of death?”
Xinxin stared back, her crimson lips slowly opening for an answer… and then she vomited on Guilao’s pants.
|
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|
HappyVainGlory
First half of the chapter. I'll add the second half later in the afternoon. Say... 3PM CST or something. Need to get some sleep. >>
Xinxin was dreaming. In that dream, she saw a scene from the past, a memory she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
She was alone, lost in the dark. Tiny, she was overwhelmed by the countless shadows. Furthermore, her body was fading, slowly rotting away.
Isolated and fated to disappear without a trace. She was a nameless and worthless existence, something that no one would ever acknowledge.
She called out. She screamed. But no one came.
She didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually she gave up on being saved. Trapped in the darkness by her lonesome, she resigned herself to a quiet death.
Yet, at the moment of her resignation, her world changed.
A hand reached out to her, who was trapped in the darkness. Grabbing it, her entire world completely changed forever.
Suddenly, her dream changed. Like before, it was a scene from the distant past. Unlike before, it was one that she didn’t recognize.
Xinxin’s mother was standing in front of her. At that time, she was still a toddler, barely able to walk.
It was the courtyard outside the Zhan Clan Manor. There, a group of men appeared in silver armor. But they were different. Their faces were pale, and their hair were golden. Compared to those of the Xia Dynasty, those men were complete foreigners.
Xinxin’s mother tried talking to the foreigners, but they shook their heads and drew steel swords from their sides.
Xinxin’s father appeared and ran out to attack them, but couldn’t do anything.
He was tossed to the side and then the men grabbed Xinxin’s mother and took her away.
Xinxin in the dream cried. Xinxin who was dreaming tried to run after them.
She was stronger now. She could stop them, take her mother back from those foreign invaders…!
And then the scene shifted again.
It was the bamboo forest where she first found Sifu. As if time had been unwound, she found herself walking through the forest path with the pill bottle in her sleeves.
A memory. The events played out the same way that Xinxin remembered. Her Sifu was missing when she checked on him and Xinxin was pinned against the bamboo trees.
It played out the same. At least, in the beginning. But rather than letting her go, Sifu tightened his grip.
Xinxin began choking, unable to breathe. She tried to claw at his arm, but the grasp tightened, slowly increasing in strength like a vice trying to crush the life out of her.
“Si…fu…”
Even though it was a dream, it felt real. She felt the struggle to breathe. She felt the pain in her neck, as well as her chest where she failed to draw in air.
Xinxin’s Sifu stared at her for a moment with those cold eyes. And then, before she realized it, he had thrust his hand through her heart.
Blood dripped along her Sifu’s arm, staining it crimson. At the same time, Xinxin felt unimaginable pain and the chilling creep of death nipping at her extremities, slowly advancing towards her heart.
Sifu stared directly into Xinxin’s eyes and then grinned, a cruel expression filled with nothing but hunger. “Think of this as a down payment, girl.”
With that, shadows spiraled out from his body and then devoured her whole.
Xinxin gasped and opened her eyes. Looking around, she saw that she was still in the cave, with only darkness to greet her waking.
That reminded her of her strange dreams.
For a moment, she was lost in thought, but Xinxin quickly shook her head. Even if they were strange and ominous, she still had to get back home.
Somehow, she felt like she could meet her Sifu there.
Xinxin reached out with her spiritual sense to see what it was like outside before moving the cave’s cover aside. She was expecting just a limited view, as if peering around the corner.
That was not what she got.
Instead of a brief search radius, Xinxin’s spiritual sense filled the entire valley. Every profound beast, every medicinal herb, every location.
Like that, she caught a glimpse of the Vermilion Bird resting on a perch atop the mountain.
The Vermilion Bird met eyes with Xinxin. Yet, instead of its earlier condescension, there was clear fear.
Xinxin realized now why her Sifu called it a dumb bird. A simple display of force was enough to keep it at bay.
For a moment, Xinxin considered settling the feud by cutting her down, but decided against it.
Even if the Vermilion Bird threatened to kill Xinxin and could have caused a disaster if the profound beasts had managed to escape, she didn’t have the time to waste on some dumb and over-sized chicken.
|
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|
HappyVainGlory
A shorter chapter today. I have to get ready to fly back for classes, so I didn't have the time to finish as much as I wanted.
A cold and feminine voice drifted down from above. It was the cloaked woman I saw before. Only, she had discarded her cloak and replaced it with a set of ominous dark draconian wings and a skin-tight crimson dress. Hovering beside her was that tall man with cobalt-colored hair and a giant double-edged sword.
I sighed and released the Brave and his party members. This was really starting to get out of hand. First, an encounter with the heroes and then an attack on the capital. Did the goddess decide it would be amusing to gift me with the protagonist aura?
Screams echoed throughout the street as people ran away in a panic. At the same time, armor clattered as imperial soldiers filed in from all over to replace the citizens that ran away. One of the soldiers, a middle-aged man with graying black hair, stopped in front of the suspicious cloaked people and pointed a sword in the air.
“Foul demons! Disguising yourself with magic to infiltrate our city? I hope you’ve resolved yourselves!”
The woman scoffed and brushed a strand of crimson hair behind her ear. “A weakling dares to make demands of me, the Ruby Archfiend?”
That soldier let out a roar and jumped into the air. "Leave your life here!" Red light gathered around his sword and he said, “Rend Heaven!”
A giant wave of energy cut through the air towards the crimson-haired woman. It was powerful, one that could probably stop most adventurers in their tracks. However, it was also one that wouldn't be used past the mid-section of a game. And considering the developments developing as well as the taste of that goddess...
The wave of energy crashed against an invisible barrier in front of the woman. She yawned, covering her mouth with her left hand, and then flicked her wrist. There was a brief flash of light and then the headless body of the soldier crashed against the ground, splattering blood in every direction.
One of the Brave’s female companions screamed. Another collapsed on the street, the ground beneath her slowly darkening. The archer doubled over, his face tinged green. As for the Brave himself, he had fainted on his feet.
I felt the start of a headache, one that made me consider resetting. But that would undo the work I’d put in with Aria and Saphira. Not only that, but with the goddess potentially aware of my time leaping and the strange phenomenon with Aria’s déjà vu, I didn’t want to risk it.
Still, that didn’t mean I had no way of dealing with the situation. It just meant I had to bear the brunt of whatever consequences occurred and see it through to the end.
The crimson-haired woman crossed her arms. “Our lord has a message for you humans. He wishes to thank you for dealing with the elves for him. In appreciation of your efforts, he’s prepared a giant gift.“
“Fi.”
Saphira turned towards me and bowed. “Yes, my Master?”
I stared at the crimson-haired woman, observing her flow of mana, and then said, “Get rid of them.”
“Understood.”
Saphira swept her right hand through the air.
At the same time, the woman let out a manic grin and said, “Blood Sacrifice!” With those words, she opened her arms as if to accept the lives of everyone present. An ominous bloody light started to scatter from the woman’s fingertips.
And then there was a surge of mana and a wave of white lightning.
“Eris!” The cobalt-haired man moved, quickly drawing his giant sword and stepping in front of the woman. He shifted the sword, one hand on the hilt and the other pressed against the flat of the blade, using it as a make-shift shield. At the same time, his mana surged, forming a barrier of azure light.
The air split as lightning carved away everything in between Saphira’s hand and the two demons. Following it, a sonic boom erupted.
The barrier was pierced in an instant and the sword evaporated. However, Saphira’s attack was weakened enough that it didn’t pierce through the cobalt-haired man’s armor. Even so, from the countless cracks and burns all over it, the man didn’t get off lightly.
A deathly silence filled the area and I sighed. Since Saphira didn’t manage to get rid of them in a single strike, another flag was raised. Maybe I should have headed towards the Demon Realm first?
The cobalt-haired man stared at Saphira and then at me. “You have such a powerful servant, and yet you don’t have the aura of that goddess.” A deep and grave voice resounded from the man. “Are you a master from the east?”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I thought about how to work with the demon's words.
The cobalt-haired demon took the silence as my answer. “Hmph. Out of respect for your strength, I will give you a warning, young master. Leave. No matter the cost we must pay, the Northern Empire will fall for assassinating our beloved princess!” At the end of those words, the man’s body began pulsating, his muscles rapidly expanding. “And today! WE WILL DINE ON-“
White lightning erupted in the sky. The air shattered, and space bent. Unable to put up even a speck of resistance, the cobalt-haired demon and the crimson-haired demon vanished, completely vaporized.
I glared at Saphira.
“…You told me to get rid of them, my Master.”
I unfortunately couldn’t argue with Saphira’s words, so I simply sighed.
“Um… Nowun?” Aria shifted in my arms and said, “This is nice, but do you think you could let go of me now?”
“Right.”
I released Aria and she took a few steps away. Her face was flushed, but she didn’t seem upset.
One of the soldiers chose that time to chime in. “Master and your companions. Thank you for your help in this matter.”
“Hm?”
The soldier that called out to me was a younger one, probably not past his twenties. His hair was a bright orange and, while he had a youthful face, his blue eyes looked hardened with battle.
…Or so the Analysis screen told me.
He walked over and bowed. “I am Steiner, the apprentice commander of- well, I suppose now it would be acting commander of the imperial knights.” He raised his head and then gave a slightly forced smile. “Thank you for your help in this matter. If you would follow me, our Emperor will surely reward you for your efforts… as well as compensate you for the misunderstanding.”
I frowned.
On the one hand, this raised all sorts of red flags.
On the other, it would be the best way to gain information about the Empire and its ruler’s plans.
Aria grabbed my arm. Glancing towards her, I saw her eyes flit toward the soldiers, an unreadable expression hidden within.
Seeing that, I decided…
|
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HappyVainGlory
Ran out of time, so apologies for rough chapter.
The scion of the Wang Clan landed on the ground a few steps from Xinxin and nodded his head slightly. “Xiao Xinxin.”
“Don’t call me that!” Xinxin crossed her arms and glared. “We aren’t married, no matter what my father or your father thinks!”
Wang Tian frowned and stared for at Xinxin.
She glared back.
Eventually, Wang Tian nodded and said, “Then… Lady Xinxin.” He took a look around the surroundings and said, “What are you doing here in the middle of nowhere?”
Xinxin scoffed and turned her back to Wang Tian and started walking back towards her clan grounds. Although she wanted to run, she refused to give the heavenly prince the satisfaction of thinking she was afraid of him.
She thought it would be enough of a hint, but Wang Tian was either too dense or too stubborn as he started walking after her.
Xinxin grit her teeth and then said, “It’s none of your business! Just leave me alone!”
“I refuse.”
Xinxin turned around to glare at Wang Tian.
He met her glare with a calm gaze.
“Hmph.” Xinxin turned back around. Whatever. That annoying guy could follow her if he wanted. If she treated him like air, Prince High-and-Mighty would eventually get bored and head back to wherever he came from.
Time passed in a tense silence, with the only sounds being those of Xinxin’s footprints and a soft breeze.
Now if only that was because Wang Tian had left, the situation would have been perfect. But it wasn’t. Although Xinxin didn’t turn around to check, she could still see his qi fluctuations in the air with her spiritual sense.
It was impossible not too. The entire surroundings were dyed a pure cobalt, Wang Tian’s qi too dense and and copious to avoid filling the air.
Of course, with the change in Xinxin’s body, that just meant she had another chance to increase her strength, so she didn’t mind it that much.
But it did annoy her. That guy… it wasn’t that long ago that they were talking about him achieving Core Formation stage. Yet, Wang Tian seemed to have not only skipped that but stepped a foot into the Saint realm judging from how he was able to fly in the air.
Xinxin walked for an hour and Wang Tian quietly followed after her.
Finally, she was fed up and spun around. “Wang Tian! Leave. Me. Alone!”
Wang Tian narrowed his eyes. “And risk my fiancee being harmed by foreigners? I refuse.”
“You-! ARGH! Why are you like this!? I don’t want you to follow me around!”
Wang Tian shook his head. “I promised Uncle Long to protect you, and I won’t go against my word. You’re free to keep your business to yourself, but I can’t allow you to be wandering around without a guard.”
“Listen here, Wang Tian!” Xinxin stepped towards Wang Tian and pointed a finger. “I don’t like you! I won’t marry you! And if it wasn’t for the fact that my father has the betrothal contract hidden away, I would have already torn it up by now!”
“But you haven’t, have you? That makes you my fiancee.”
Xinxin’s face flushed red in anger. “You… you…! Gah, I’m speechless talking to you! Why do you keep bothering me every single time?! Go back to your closed door cultivation and just become a Saint already! I’m fine!”
“I refuse. A young maiden like yourself is always at danger, and that’s even more true when you’re alone. Were the events just earlier not enough proof?”
“I was handling it!”
“…By almost dying?”
“It was going to be fine! I’m stronger than I look!”
Wang Tian raised an eyebrow and then scanned Xinxin from head to toe.
Xinxin flinched and covered her chest. “What are you looking at, you pervert!?”
“My fiancee. Is there a problem with that?”
“YES! For the hundredth time, I’m not going to be your fiancee!”
Wang Tian didn’t respond for a moment. But then he said, “I admit that your cultivation has increased leaps and bounds. I don’t know what miraculous pill or technique you were bestowed to achieve Late Core Formation in such a short time, or how you changed your physique, but it’s far from enough to protect yourself.”
Xinxin opened her mouth and then forcibly shut it. She spun around and started marching off, muttering, “It’s not worth it, Xinxin. It’s just like talking to a wall. Just leave him be.”
Wang Tian was always like that. Self-righteous, arrogantly declaring himself as her fiance even against her wishes and writing off her capabilities… and then he had those obnoxious admirers who kept making Xinxin’s life troublesome, like Zhan Yue.
If she had known that heading back to the clan would have resulted in meeting Wang Tian, Xinxin would have gone the other direction first.
Though… it was a bit strange. The Wang Clan was to the north of the Xia Dynasty, keeping guard near the Black Tortoise. Why was Wang Tian so far south? Was he looking for her? Did her father send him knowing that was where Sifu took her? Or was it coincidence?
In the end, Xinxin decided it didn’t matter.
Again, the air grew silent. Xinxin was adamant in treating Wang Tian like air and the heavenly prince seemed content to simply follow her around.
The arrogant guy probably just didn’t want his beautiful ‘fiancee’ to get harmed.
…Though he seemed a bit mellower than last time they met. Could he have matured in closed door cultivation? Pft. No, if it was because of that Zhan Yue wouldn’t be so vicious from all of her closed door cultivation.
It was probably because of her new appearance. With her dantian’s reformation, her body had changed as well.
Xinxin didn’t have a chance to look at her appearance yet due to lacking a mirror or pond to see her reflection, but she didn’t doubt that her beauty would have been magnified tens if not hundreds of times over.
Sadly, that was the downside for someone like her gaining more power.
Xinxin sighed.
If only her Sifu was there with her. While a bit harsh, he at least would have treated her the same as usual.
The walk back to the clan grounds continued in silence until they arrived at the southern entrance.
Like the one that Xinxin and her Sifu first arrive at, the southern entrance was protected by a wooden gate. There should have also been a pair of guards manning it, but no matter where Xinxin looked, she couldn’t see any trace of them.
Before Xinxin could do anything else, Wang Tian suddenly appeared in front of Xinxin, his back facing her.
“Wang Tian! For the last time, I don’t-“
“Quiet. Do you sense that?”
Xinxin glared at Wang Tian’s back for a moment before reluctantly focusing on sensing her surroundings. From the sound of Wang Tian’s tone, it seemed to be something serious. Yet, Xinxin didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary.
“I don’t sense anything, Wang Tian.”
The heavenly prince nodded. “That’s it. Nothing. But at this time of day, don’t you think it’s strange that we can’t sense anything?”
Xinxin froze. As loathe as she was to admit it, Wang Tian had a point. It should be nearing noon with all the time they spent traveling back. The clan should have been bustling with life and activity. Yet, not only where there no guards, Xinxin didn’t sense any signs of qi or even spiritual energy.
Wang Tian flicked the right sleeve of his azure robes. In an instant, a black sword had appeared in his hand. “Follow closely, be ready for combat, and stay quiet.”
Although it grated Xinxin to listen to Wang Tian, she agreed with his decision. Focusing her qi again, she formed a sword in her right hand and then followed after Wang Tian.
The two silently entered the clan grounds by walking through the gate. A road cutting through the inner village led to the Zhan Clan Manor, and it was that which the two followed. Yet, along the way, Xinxin couldn’t help but take a look around.
The Emerald Pavilion towered over the grounds as usual, yet there was no one inside. As they ventured deeper into the grounds, Xinxin realized that it wasn’t just the pavilion either. The houses and street corners that were usually bustling with activity were completely empty.
After walking even further in silence, Wang Tian said, “Xinxin. Do you have any idea what’s happening?”
She shook her head. “I don’t.”
That fact unnerved her. In a week, her home had turned into a ghost town. It would have been one thing if there were traces of blood or slaughter, but there was none of that. Everyone was just… gone.
Wang Tian frowned and then started walking faster.
Xinxin followed.
And then the two arrived at the Zhan Clan Manor.
There, the first signs of struggle were seen. The front doors of the manor had been broken down and splashes of blood were scattered everywhere.
“A fight?” Xinxin muttered.
Wang Tian shook his head. “No. Not a fight, but rather-“ The heavenly prince's eyes widened and he spun around. Without a word, he grabbed Xinxin and jumped into the air.
“WANG TIAN! You-“
Whatever Xinxin was going to say next was lost as she saw the reason why Wang Tian had suddenly acted.
There, in the place where Xinxin just stood, the ground was torn apart, huge chunks missing as if giant talons had clawed the earth.
Wang Tian quickly landed and shoved Xinxin to the side. Immediately after, he swung his sword through the air.
Xinxin thought that was strange. There wasn’t anything there, so why did Wang Tian-
SCREECH.
The sound of steel grinding against something unyielding filled the air. At the same time, the space in front of Wang Tian rippled and ‘something’ moved.
No, not ‘something’.
Someone.
And Xinxin knew exactly who that ‘someone’ was.
The young beauty unsteadily got to her feet. “Sifu…?”
That ‘someone’ froze and then completely vanished.
Xinxin blinked and looked around. Was that really her Sifu, or was she imagining things? And why did it vanish?
Wang Tian stood still and cautiously looked around as well. The heavenly prince slowly turned in a circle, his sword raised and at the ready.
After enough time for an incense stick to burn passed, Wang Tian lowered his guard.
Seeing that, Xinxin did the same. But the moment she did, Xinxin felt a cold hand thrust through her chest.
Xinxin’s sword faded and she felt all the strength leave her body, something siphoning away all of her qi. Even so, she forced her body to stand, grabbing onto the arm of her attacker.
Nothing was there. No one was standing there. No one was attacking her. And because no one was attacking her, there were no signs of her distress. Even as she stood there, dying from blood loss as well as her dantian crumbling from her qi being siphoned away, Wang Tian, only a few paces away, didn’t notice a thing.
With the little breath she could muster, Xinxin muttered, “Si…fu…?”
Her attacker’s response was to wrench their hand away, tearing out Xinxin’s heart.
Losing the support propping up her drained body, Xinxin fell to the ground with a soft thud and she blacked out.
|
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|
The chasm leading to Yggdrasil’s heart stretched on for a long time with the only light from what little filtered in through the gap that Aultry made. Winding and continuously narrowing until I had to walk directly behind Aultry, it was a claustrophobic’s worst fear. The fact that the walls of countless roots pulsed with mana turned an already disturbing passageway into nightmare fuel. The walls felt like they could spring to life at any time and devour any trespassers whole, leaving them lost forever within the depths of Yggdrasil.
Most people would be on guard, tense from the dangerous atmosphere. Most people would be too worried to say anything at all, lest they disturb the living walls.
Aultry was not most people. “…And if that position bothers her, all you have to do is turn her around and-“
I sighed and did my best to ignore the elven king’s ramblings. Somehow, for the past fifteen minutes he had managed to jabber on about all the different ways that you could ‘pleasure’ a woman as well as other… relevant information.
It was under the guise of helpful advice, but I got the sense that he was trying to show off his bedroom exploits. Alvheim's king really needed to get out more often...
Eventually, the narrowing walls began to widen again until I could walk side by side with Aultry. But before I could move to do so, a cold voice called out.
“Aultry, boy. What are you doing here?”
The elven king froze, causing me to almost run into him.
I managed to stop at the last second and frowned.
“Sir Hraesvelgr.” Aultry bowed. “I apologize for the disturbance, but I must request a meeting with Yggdrasil.”
Aultry’s actions allowed me to see who he was talking to.
A man with white hair stood in front of us, blocking the path. He possessed a massive frame rippling with muscles. The only piece of clothing covering his body was a pair of pants that looked to be made of gray feathers.
I stared at him and frowned. For some reason, he seemed vaguely familiar.
The man’s eyes, yellow and reminiscent of an eagle’s, stared into my own and he frowned as well. “Who is this?”
Aultry rose from his bow and gestured towards me. “This is our Benefactor, Lord Nazin. Not only did he save Alvheim from the invading humans, but he’s come to reinforce Yggdrasil’s defenses from newly developed threats.”
“Hmph. Is this why you request a meeting, Aultry boy?”
Aultry nodded. “Yes, Sir Hraesvelgr. Lord Nazin-“
“I refuse.”
“What?”
Hraesvelgr continued staring at me and said, “You should know better than this, Aultry boy. That… thing beside you. It carries the stench of darkness and chaos, the stench of my fated opponent and the one prophesied to end Yggdrasil.”
“That’s…” Aultry trailed off and then turned towards me. “Not true. Right, Lord Nazin?”
I ignored Aultry and stared at Hraesvelgr.
He stared back.
“Are you going to bar my way no matter what?”
Hraesvelgr nodded. “Of course.”
“…Even if that ends with the Sword of Mana stolen?”
Aultry gasped.
The air grew heavy and Hraesvelgr’s eagle eyes shimmered. “How do you know that?”
I shrugged. “Divine revelation? Providence?” I shook my head. “Even if I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me. But I’m not the only one with that information.”
Hraesvelgr narrowed his eyes. “Hmph. That may be, but I will be more than enough to protect Yggdrasil, creature of darkness and chaos.”
“Is that so? But what about when people slip past you? Can you guard what you cannot perceive?”
I thought about it. Hraesvelgr… why was he missing in the future? Did he perish protecting Yggdrasil, or did he pass his role to Aria? If not, why did he let her suffer so much?
Hraesvelgr scoffed. “As if a mere mortal can-“
I activated Information Concealment.
“-get past me?” The guardian’s yellow eyes widened and he said, “What sorcery is this!?”
Aultry glanced around the room. “Lord Nazin?”
I walked past them both.
Hraesvelgr’s eyes frantically scanned the surroundings but never landed on my position.
Arrogant. That person… he existed to guard Yggdrasil, and yet in the future that harsh duty fell on the shoulders of a feeble young woman.
I stood behind Hraesvelgr and tapped the nape of his neck. “If I wanted it, you would be dead right now. Now, do you still think-”
A surge of white light filled the passageway. Searing hot pain spread throughout my body and then, nothing.
“Lord Nazin!” Aultry cried out and then glared at Hraesvelgr. “Sir Hraesvelgr, you have doomed us all!”
“Hmph.” The guardian turned towards Aultry and scoffed. “Doom? Aultry boy, I eliminated a major threat to-“
“That hurt.”
Hraesvelgr’s eyes widened and he quickly turned back around.
My body felt like I’d stayed far too long under the sun, but I ignored it and smiled at the guardian of Yggdrasil.
The sensation of Holy Light has been memorized. The skill Light Affinity LVL 1 has been obtained.
Update. Due to compatibility, Light Affinity has evolved into Light’s Order LVL 1.
Hraesvelgr took a step back. “Impossible. A creature of chaos and darkness should have been obliterated by Light’s Order!”
“There’s a saying about assumptions where I’m from… but in any case, just because I use those attributes doesn’t mean that I’m a creature of those types.”
So I said, but I was confused as well. Considering my abilities, I thought I would have to time leap after building resistances from a fatal blow, but it seemed that it wouldn’t be necessary. Light and Order was the antithesis of my Darkness and Chaos affinities. Going by logic. it should have been cancelled out, leaving me obliterated like the guardian said.
Hraesvelgr stared at me for a moment and then muttered, “I see. So this is Yggdrasil’s will.”
“Hm?”
The white-haired guardian shook his head. “It matters not.” He gestured towards the passageway leading deeper into Yggdrasil and said, “Go forward and meet with Yggdrasil. There, all will be revealed. Ah. But Aultry boy will stay here.”
“Sir Hraesvelgr!”
The guardian crossed his arms and glared at Aultry. “Have you obtained a successor?”
“…No, but-“
“Then you stay there.”
“…”
I ignored the sudden comedy duo and continued advancing into the depths of Yggdrasil.
Aria opened the door to her house. Her house. The house belonging to her and Nowun. Well, there was that has-been lizard too but ultimately it was their house. Like a couple’s, and one that Yggdrasil provided herself, just like she did for the elves that had vowed to be lifelong partners.
The thought of it made Aria giddy.
“I still say that I got the better of you, girl.”
Aaand that giddiness went away.
Aria glanced towards Saphira and huffed. “As if, has-been.”
The fallen dragon stepped into the house and closed the door behind her. Although a mundane act, Saphira’s beauty and the simple but fitting black dress hugging her perfect body made it a work of art.
She must have caught Aria staring as Saphira smirked and tucked a strand of her silky black hair behind her ear. “Jealous?”
“Yeah right.” Aria crossed her arms, emphasizing her own assets beneath her dark violet dress. “I still have room to grow, unlike a certain lizard who’s reached her peak.” Aria scanned Saphira head to toe and smirked. “It’s only downhill from there, you know?”
“Y-You!” Saphira crossed her arms and took a step back. “W-Well, at least I have experience!”
“Whatever makes you feel better about yourself… has-been.”
Crimson lightning crackled around Saphira’s right hand and she aimed it at Aria. “I will END you.”
“Not in the house. Or do you want to be the one to explain why everything was destroyed?”
Saphira flinched and quickly dismissed her lightning.
Aria smiled. “I thought so.”
Saphira pouted. “…Stupid girl.”
Aria stuck out her tongue and then started walking deeper into the house. “Come on. I don’t think he’ll be out much longer, so let’s get the house ready before he gets back.”
“Hmph. Do not think I have forgotten this slight, girl. But you make a valid point.” Saphira followed after Aria.
Aria decided to head to her room first since it was, hopefully, where they would be spending most of their time. She grabbed the door knob, twisted it, and then pushed it open.
“Hm? Lord Nazin?” A feminine voice called out.
Aria froze.
Saphira froze.
The beautiful woman with honey-colored hair seated at the table inside the room froze.
“…Tani?” Aria pushed the door open all the way and stepped into the room. As she did, she glanced around, noting the distinct woman’s touch that had been placed on everything. The sweet scent of vanilla and yellow freesia, the changed bed covers and pillow case, the stuffed animal… it was everything that used to be in her room near the inner sanctum.
Slowly, Aria turned her gaze to Titania.
The eldest princess of Alvheim sat behind a table stacked with papers. Catching Aria’s gaze, she flinched and stood up. “A-Ari! Wh-what are you doing here?”
Aria walked to the center of the room and made a show of looking around before turning back to Titania and saying, “I live here. With No-Nazin and Fi-ear.”
It was close, but Aria managed to catch herself at the last minute.
“Right!” Titania nodded. “That… is right. You live here. With… Lord Nazin. And his servant, Fear.”
Saphira stepped into the room and fixed her gaze on Titania as well. “Indeed. The girl and I live in this house with my Master. You, elf, are certainly not included in that number.”
Aria crossed her arms. “What she said. So what are you doing here, Tani? And when did all of this get here?”
Titania fidgeted with her ribbon and said, “Y-You see-“
“Wait.” Saphira stepped forward.
“P-Pardon me?”
The fallen dragon sniffed the air and frowned before walking towards the eldest princess of Alvheim.
Titania froze, unable to react to the strange turn of events.
Saphira closed her eyes and leaned towards Titania, sniffing her. After she did, Saphira’s eyes snapped open. She took a step back and glared. “Why do you carry the scent of my Master?”
Aria’s gaze snapped towards Titania. “…Are you sure, Fear?”
Saphira scowled and nodded. “I am indeed, girl.”
Titania’s eyes widened and she raised her hands. “L-Listen Ari. I have an explanation for all of this-“
Saphira walked over to the door and closed it.
Titania flinched and instinctively took a step back. It caused her to bump into the table, knocking over the pile of papers. She looked down and frowned but quickly glanced back towards Aria and Saphira.
“Girl,” Saphira said. “This one time, I will cooperate.”
Aria nodded. “Good.” She turned her gaze on her sister and said, “So, Tani. Is there a reason why my darling’s scent might be lingering on your body?”
“D-Darling?”
Saphira walked back towards Aria’s side and nodded. “Yes. I would like to know as well, elf. I smell traces of my Master’s mana and his blood upon your body... mixed with your own scent.”
Aria's emerald eyes turned frosty and a cold wind stirred.
Sweat formed on Titania's brow. “T-There is a very logical explanation for that. You see-“
The door creaked open.
Titania glanced towards it and smiled in relief. “Lord Nazin!”
“Hm?”
Aria turned around.
A figure stood in the doorway. Wreathed in shadows and chaotic mana, it was familiar. At the same time, it was foreign.
Saphira reacted first, quickly pulling Aria behind her and facing the shadowy figure. “You are not my Master.”
The shadowy figure paused and then tilted its head. “Yo…u. PoWerFul.”
Aria flinched. The voice… it was eerie. Twisted and mangled.
The figure raised its right hand. Shadows dripped from it, plopping onto the ground like bits of rotting flesh. “He. Hehe. HEhEHE. PoWER.”
“Girl, hold on to me and your sister!” Saphira grabbed Aria with her right hand and blasted a hole in the wall with lightning in her left.
Meanwhile, Aria grabbed onto her sister and pulled her close. “Whatever you do, don’t let go Tani!”
“Ari, what are you-“
The dragon jumped through the window with the elf sisters. At the same time-
“GIVE ME YOUR POWER!”
-the shadowy figure roared and an explosion of chaotic darkness consumed the house along with its branch.
|
{
"subset": "scribblehub",
"lang": "en",
"series": "2739",
"id": "10037",
"q": 0.8545454545454546,
"title": "No One’s Story - 27 – Demon Lord Route – Syncopation",
"author": "HappyVainGlory",
"chapters": 147,
"rating": 4.2,
"rating_ct": 125,
"genre": [
"Fantasy",
"Isekai",
"Psychological",
"Seinen"
],
"tags": [
"Accelerated Growth",
"Amnesia",
"Arranged Marriage",
"Cold Protagonist",
"Corruption",
"Dao Comprehension",
"Demon Lord",
"Divine Protection",
"Elves",
"Enemies Become Allies",
"Fantasy World",
"Fated Lovers",
"Game Elements",
"Identity Crisis",
"Interconnected Storylines",
"Multiple POV",
"Multiple Timelines",
"Multiple Transported Individuals",
"Past Plays a Big Role",
"Personality Changes",
"Skill Assimilation",
"Time Manipulation",
"Transplanted Memories",
"Transported into Another World"
]
}
|
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