Magic Breaker Ch 91-93

Chapter 91: Awakening

/Oh, Ion? Yeah, they were part of my caravan on the second floor. What, you want me to tell you what they’re like? Heh.

Feckin’ monster. When that party left, the others in the caravan started to call that monster Stormbreaker. First time on the second floor, starves for twenty days, then walks right into that icy hell and chases it away.

That’s not to mention the way Ion fought. It was a massacre. When the fae came at night, they simply fell apart. Disintegrated. And then, when Ion stabbed them, they couldn’t dodge. It was like watching a butcher at work, The fae just fell apart as that monster waved a little knife about.

Could I take the rookie? Uhhhh, yeah. ‘Course. Sure. Don’t… don’t tell Ion I said that, though./

-Captain Malcolm, lv. 55 Caraveneer

- - - 

PoV: Snow Okiyama - Ion

I blink open my eyes. The world’s all blurry, and I wipe them down with my single arm’s torn sleeve. My open wound on my skull throbs. All the mana constructs inside me are all out of order. My testing’s been properly messed up and I’ll have to redo the healing stuff.

This time, instead of Thatch’s face, it’s Sylves’ I wake up to. 

Of course, I remember. I feel embarrassed, even. Sleepy me needs to learn to talk better. But, then again, I know the answer to my question, too. William Riley. The name’s burnt into my head now. I won’t forget it.

“Morning, Snow,” Sylves whispers gently. Her voice gets carried by the wind and tickles my ears. It’s so quiet. I smile, faintly, at her kindness. “Did you sleep well?”

“I feel terrible,” I reply.

She smiles, brightly. “Deserved,” she says, her blonde hair blowing in the faint wind. “Don’t just pull stunts like that, please.”

“Sure,” I say.

Inu pokes my cheek. I grimace a bit at the feeling of pins and needles it gives. Slowly, I pour mana into my healing skill. “Liar,” the tall girl chides. 

I raise my hands in defense. “Caught me,” I deadpan.

She frowns, but doesn’t poke me again. Instead, Opal hands me a bowl of stew. My stomach rumbles so loudly it hurts. I blink for a moment. “You were out long enough that more food grew,” they say. “Eat.”

They don’t need to tell me twice. I descend on the meal like a starving lion. 

- - -

Eventually, the food is done. I talk with the others a bit, and they chide me for my silliness. All of their words are true, of course, so I accept them graciously. “What happened while I was out?”

“Not much,” Thatch says calmly.

“Some idiots tried to approach,” Amelie adds. “A few even tried to push the issue, like the girl who tried that little manipulation stunt on you before.”

“The one that cried to her mom?” I ask, scanning the camp for her. It doesn’t take long to find the girl, sitting in the grass, a poorly made splint around one of her hands.

Amelie nods. “That one,” she agrees. “Sylves made her stomach cramp, then Thatch broke two of her fingers.”

He chuckles embarrassedly. “Oops?” he says. I look at him, into his eyes. 

Something about his look makes me think she’s lucky he didn’t tear them off.

I nod along. “Thanks,” I say. “When are we moving on?” 

“Everyone’s all levelled,” Dar says. I’m a little surprised at that. Wasn’t Bay missing some? I look at her.

“Threw a few bombs into the wind,” she says. “Caught a couple fairies bad enough that I got credit, which took me over the edge.”

Slowly, I nod. “Nice,” I say. That’s good. Everyone got there over the nightly combat. 

“We can leave whenever,” Richard says. “Finding beasts willing to pull our wagon would be easy, too.”

At that, captain Malcolm perks up. “Now, now,” he says. “I can’t have ye takin’ a wagon with ya. That’d be real shabby, with how much rebuilding we needa do.”

I look at the blood-splattered boards where an entire house was wiped out. The faint, amicable smile freezes on the captain’s face. My skin is slowly thawing, so I rise to my feet. “We’ll be taking a few of those boards.”

“The boards ain’t the problem,” he says, “the beasts are.”

Slowly, I tilt my head. “The ones you wanted to slaughter and eat?”

“They’re bonded with tamers.”

“Tamers which are now corpses,” I say, slowly. “Tamers which would have all been corpses without me.”

He sighs, rubbing his face. “Look, Snow…”

“That’s Ion to you,” I interrupt. He freezes, just slightly. “Let me be very clear. I’m not asking. I’m letting you know what will happen.”

Very slowly, I see captain Malcolm’s hands trail to the axe he keeps on his back. But it’s not there. Norman holds it, just a few steps away. These older climbers always think they’re hot shit, don’t they? It pisses me off.

My vessel is full again, after the sleep. Slightly depleted from repairing my constructs, maybe. I manifest a long dagger of blueish-grey mana in my hand. It’s surrounded by a dense aura of [Suppression], the skills woven around each other.

[Suppression 14 > 15]

It clearly works, given the menacing pressure of the weapon. The captain slowly, placatingly raises his hands. “Now, now. There’s no need for violence.”

A smile spreads across my lips. “So glad to hear it,” I reply. With the hole in my skull and the flaking frostbite on my skin, I must be looking a little terrifying. All my muscles still ache, and my feet are fucked up from marching through the snow for so long, but I ignore the pain, pressing it down. Instead, I just watch the captain for another second.

He takes a step back.

I let the dagger dispel itself, then look to Sylves. “Fly me over to the beasts, could you?” I ask.

She blinks. “Why not walk?”

“My feet hurt.”

“I see,” she replies, then sighs dramatically. “Fine then.” A gust of wind sweeps my off my feet. “Let us see thine furry companions.” 

We leave the speechless old man behind. Opal pats him on the shoulder, and Dar laughs at his misery. I look at Norman and he nods. I’m gonna get a look at the axe before we leave. How nice of the captain to donate it.

Ah, enchanting, right. I have a job to evolve.

Chapter 92: Problem Solver

While floating to the barn, I call up my notifications. [Inscription] levelled from making the cloak, and it was enough of a masterpiece to advance my job. So, I pull up the options.

[Job Options: <Tinkerer>, <Preserver>, <Musician>, [New!] <Engraver>, [New!] <Threadspinner>, [New!] <Imbuer>, [New!] <Scrollmaker>, [New!] <Biochanter>, [New!] <Shadowbinder>, [Altered!] <Moonlight Mage>, <Darkfletcher (sponsored)>, <Agonyforger (sponsored)>]

Curious. Moonlight Weaver turned into Moonlight Mage. Probably influenced by the fact that I’d done cloth enchanting? That’s most likely also where Threadspinner came from - I doubt it’s as pure a tailoring job as Sylves’.

Scrollmaker is out. It sounds like making temporary enchantments, and that just does not seem very interesting at all. Engraver, too, is a little too limiting, and I dislike Threadspinner for the same reasons. I don’t want to specialize in one kind of item. I wanna be able to work with metals and cloth and wood and anything else. 

Shadowbinder is interesting. It’s probably there because of my connection with Kuro. The adorable critter in my shadow. I should feed it some blood later today. 

For now, though, it’s out. I don’t have that much interest in binding shadows, even if it would be cool, when I still plan on stealing that kind of magic from Kuro’s skills. That should be doable, at least.

Which leaves Biochanter and Imbuer. I like both of these, since I’m pretty sure they’re offered since I’m pushing on their domains. Biochanter feels like it’s related to, well, enchanting living things. In a way, that’s similar to the constructs I’m spinning inside my body. Making those kinds of enchantments ‘stick’ properly would be nice.

But. 

Imbuer. The name is vague, but when reaching out with [Selection], I can pull a little more information. It’s about skills and the way they interact with creations. This one, I think, will let me cheat a little. In that it might let me make enchantments based on acquired or understood skills more easily, derive new runes faster and also… enchant my temporary creations.

Kind of similar to how I poured a bit of [Suppression] into my dagger, just… better. More permanent, and all that.

Reaching out, I pick Imbuer.

[Job gained: <Imbuer>]

[Stat bonuses: +1 > +3 Vessel per level]

[Experience modules: Enchanting, Imbuing]

And then, a moment later.

[Job up! Imbuer 0 > 3]

Nine more points trickle into vessel, experience that was “left over” after my masterpiece was acknowledged. Apparently, the cloak was just that good. Granted, I did spend a good three weeks working on it nonstop, using some pretty experimental enchantments. The pressure against my chest instantly redoubled, starting to hurt a little.

Ah, that was with [Suppression]. It hurt a lot, actually. Wow. 

Quickly, I poured a lot more mana into [Biological Restoration], letting it knit my messed up body back together, discarding frozen cells and making new ones from the food in my stomach. 

[Essence Bestowed: Imbuement.]

The second part of my new job came in, pouring into my head. An instant, tiny fragment of knowledge about the way skills were constructed, and how to harness those patterns. As the knowledge was still flooding into me, I already grimaced, remaking every single one of the tiny healing modules I’d left in my arm.

Then I remade them over twice more, before I was satisfied. Dang. Even just a whisper of new essence had helped so much. It made it a lot easier to understand why I was able to figure out cloth enchanting so quickly - that was the essence from the moonlit lake at work. It bothered me a little, but at the end of the day, that knowledge was now a part of me.

I sighed, then let it go. 

“We’re here,” Sylves says.

She’s lying. We’d been here for a little while, but she waited for me to finish my job selection. I smile a little. “Thanks,” I say, then push the doors open to the barn.

It smells better than I’d expect. The ice stopped much bacteria from growing, and the animals are smarter than those back on earth and remarkably clean. Their eyes turn to me for a long moment, before one of them approaches. 

Like most of them, it’s a large thing, taller than me and brodader, not to mention that it’s quadrupedal. The beasts are strong. And yet, it very gently places its head closer to me, careful that its horns and antlers don’t poke me.

Slowly, I reach out my hand to its snout, and it presses into it, my hand sinking into the fur. A small laugh bubbles from my chest, and I pet the beast’s head, rubbing the thick, leathery skin under the fur. It’s warm and soft and a little damn from melted ice. 

The thing huffs in amusement, but doesn’t try to lick me, which I’m grateful for. A few more of the animals crowd around me. They recognize me. Recognize that I killed people for them, and that I healed them when the frost got too bad.

Some still died, but I was there, and they remember. Now the storm was gone, and I returned, frostbitten. The pieces of the puzzle were not hard to complete.

A trickle of essence flows into me. Then another, and another. About half of the beasts use favours, earned from the tower, to thank me. They gift me with more knowledge on anatomy, on healing, on magic and communication. It’s… nice. 

Funny, isn’t it? When I heal people, I have to demand payment. They don’t want to give anything, think themselves above it. Greedy and ungrateful. And yet, when I heal beasts, they welcome me into their fold and thank me for it. I don’t expect payment, and yet, here I am, receiving it.

How amusing. 

I run my hand through the inson’s fur once more, then smile. “Would any of you like to pull our wagon to an ascendancy well?” I ask.

None of them reply, seemingly confused at my words. Hmm.

“Want me to fetch a tamer?” Sylves asks.

Slowly, I nod. “The one whose inson I healed before it died to the frost. He seemed a decent fellow.”

She quickly gives me a bright smile. “Got it!” Then she darts off, blonde hair fluttering in the wind. I lean against the wall and wait, watching the animals chew on the grass, when they present me with one of their injured.

A younger beast, who somehow made it through the cold. Still, the critter is frostbitten and hurt, breathing in shallow bursts. Without hesitation, I pour mana into [Biological Restoration].

With my new knowledge, I alter the healing skill even more. The essence guides my actions, and I activate the skill multiple times in rapid succession, each time with different alterations. One configuration to help its heart beat more easily. Another to warm its blood. A third to regenerate the hurt cells, and another, much more slow one to help it metabolize properly.

Half of my vessel empties out in moments and the pain in my chest disappears. White-gold mana seeps into the beast, and I can feel the spell take hold. It sticks to the inson’s muscles, seeping below its skin and fuelling its body. Reserves of fat are burnt away, and some muscles atrophy slightly to fuel the healing, but it still heals.

The mana provides enough power to restore its lungs and heart, to stave off the frostbite in its back legs. Despite everything, it will heal fully. I sigh in relief, then nod at the beasts, which huff and moo at me pleasantly, as if there had never been any doubt I could solve the problem. It makes me laugh, just a little, and suddenly, waiting for the beast tamer isn’t so bad at all.

Chapter 93: Ascendancy Well

The rest of our time in the camp passes quickly. We get a tamer, he communicates with the inson for us, two of them are selected to accompany us to the ascendancy well. A few other groups also had enough of the second floor, and want to travel with us.

Those, however, have to recruit their own tamers and beasts. I’m not spending any of my goodwill on them. Nepotism girly with the broken fingers stares at me furiously. Jean’s legs dangle off the back of the cart, even as Isabelle, his grandmother, gives me the stink eye. Maximillian and his group trudge along, too, as well as some of the species that have had more time in the tower.

I’m pretty sure that with the storm distracted, many groups will be heading for an ascension well, and, within a few days, that suspicion proves true. 

[Observation 5 > 6]

Dozens of hopeful climbers crowd around the well, the golden script sending a faint pillar of light for those who have achieved the requirements to ascend. We arrive in the middle of the day, and, having had enough of a meal and not wanting to wait, we decide to simply tackle the well instantly.

Except, of course, it could never be that simple.

“Hey! Is that you, Gem?!” Vincent asks, waving. The guy from back on Earth who tried to recruit us to his group. After the last ascendancy well, he was with a whole new pile of people. Now, again, he seems to have found new company.

I brush my senses against him.

[Fighter, lv. 25]

Something is wrong with the display. I’m sure, more than sure, even. There’s a tingling sensation that whispers of danger.

“So nice to see you again!” he says, jogging over to us. His blond hair is slicked back, and he looks even more fit than when we were back on Earth. Did he eat well during his entire time on the second floor?

Vincent gives us a bright smile. “How’ve you been?” he asks, stepping even closer.

I take a step back, wanting some distance. He reaches for my shoulder. Inu slabs his wrist and his arm bounces right back.

“Ouchies!” he complains, laughing, rubbing his shoulder. “That stings. Did you shock me or something?” he asks. 

Inu nods. “Yep, it’s a function of my class. It shocks people when I slap them. The skill is pretty new, so I’m not great at suppressing it yet,” she lies. I know it was just her [Rebound] in action, but Vincent nods along.

“No prob, no prob. I forgot about the whole… touchy thing,” he says, waving his hands through the air mockingly. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?”

This time, my entire party just stares at him. I know a few of the others with us like, say, Isabelle, might nod along, but… well. They don’t matter. Already, I feel the urge to kick his shin again. 

Sighing, Inu stares at him. “We’d like to advance, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Oh, yeah! No prob. We were just about to head up, too. Wanna go with my group after? I heard floor three can be a bit rough on solo expeditions.” He steps closer again. I take another step back. 

“Please let me have my personal space,” I say, calmly as I can. This guy. I lean heavily on [Observation], watching him closely. 

Vincent smiles awkwardly, then steps back, his stupidly handsome face making it seem graceful and easy. “Ah, sorry, I can get a bit too excited. My bad, my bad. But seriously, it’d be good to band up. You must be pretty strong if you’ve made it this far.”

I look at my cutoff arm. “Really, man?” I ask.

At that, for the very first time, he sputters and stops, seeming actually caught off guard. “Well, I, uh…”

Opal pats his shoulder. “Sorry, bud, but we’re kinda full already. Better luck on the other side.”

He just smiles again. “C’mon, at least consider it, I just-”

Does he ever shut up?

“No,” Sylves says, finally. “Stop being a weirdo. Go away. Shoo.”

“Hey,” he starts. “I just wanted to invite you, no need to be so-”

“Go. Away!” she repeats. 

He raises his hands. “Fine, fine! Jeez. Sorry.” And with that, he finally scurries off.

How many more recruitment drives must I suffer? I share a look with Jean and see the same misery at the awkward interaction in his eyes as there must be in mine. Ah, to have a kindred spirit. Sighing softly, I ignore all the chattering of my party. 

“This is too loud,” I say. “I’m going.”

And then, I step into the well.

[Ascend?]

I confirm my desire.

The world goes blank white.

[Challenge: Shadow’s Wreath. In creeping darkness, shadow’s stir, borrow their power, give it a twirl.]

The bright white around me dims in seconds. The sky comes coated in thick rainclouds, though not a drop of water actually falls. And, of course, high in the sky, a single eye opens.

[The Creeping Darkness is watching you.]

“Can I never get some privacy in this tower?” I complain.

The eye blinks, almost embarrassed, glancing to the side.

[... The Creeping Darkness does not wish to draw your ire. It requests you engage with your bond. If you refuse, it will allow you to move on. It has paid a significant tribute for this area’s time dilation, and this lengthy message, and would prefer to stay quiet and observe.]

I blink back. One of those parts sticks out to me. Time dilation.

That must mean that I can spend more time in here than what passes outside. I look at the sky, and my surroundings. The rainclouds cover all of it, thin rays of sun making their way down into the dim world, casting long, deep shadows. There are ruined buildings all around me, streets of dark, ashen cobblestones, caved in roofs made from wood and straw, entirely unsuited to the rains that may have raged here. 

Some places bear scorch marks, too, like there’d been a fire. But there are no corpses, only long, thin shadows. I take a deep breath in, soaking in the atmosphere.

It’s quiet. So wonderfully quiet. The lights are dim, too. It’s faintly cool, but not freezing cold. The air smells faintly of rain, but without the moldy quality that so often comes of it. Instead, it just smells of running water.

I breathe in for a long moment. “How much is the time dilation?” I ask. For a moment, the tower is quiet. The single eye in the sky blinks its abyssal, slitted pupil, the purplish shade of its iris glinting in the light that pierces its smoky outline. It seems to be arguing with the tower, and when the answer comes, it’s a typical notification, rather than an Eye communicating with me.

[Time here passes twenty times faster than outside. You may spend a maximum of one week.]

My eyes scan over the notification a second, then a third time. A week. For a few hours outside. Yes. Yes please. Gently, and in a tiny motion, I nod at the eye. “Okay.” 

There. That should convey enough gratitude.

Instead of any big words, I simply see the Eye squint a bit in what might be amusement. I look away from it, and instead focus on the floor. The dim sunlight starkly outlines my shadow across the floor. It’s even darker than those surrounding me. I stretch out a hand and tap it against the cold cobblestone, watching the darkness ripple.

Kuro crawls out from that tiny gap in the floor.

They’ve grown a bit since I’ve last checked on them, and been a faithful companion. They helped me fight the paladin, and even insulated my feet against the icy sleet. What a brave critter. Why are they so loyal to me, I wonder?

Slowly, I pet them with my hand. The flesh made from shadow is squishy and pleasantly cool, a little bit like a dark marshmallow. They shift a little bit to be more reminiscent of the inson, though it looks like a child sculpted them out of black clay. I snicker a little to myself. “No, silly, you don’t have to mimick anything. You’re plenty cute.”

At my admonishment, the critter lets out a faint grumble, somewhere between annoyed at having its efforts shot down, and yet happy at not needing to put in effort. It shifts again, withdrawing into a malleable mass, then forming into the shape of a centipede… thing. 

Their head is just a little too round, and the legs are less jagged and spiky and more squishy. They feel a little sticky on my skin, but they leave not even a hint of residue when the little critter walks up my arm. I [Observe] carefully, but there is no malice there. Kuro’s smart enough to understand me, somehow, and wouldn’t want to hurt me.

And yet, as they faintly hum a discordant melody, I can tell they’re hungry. Smiling softly, I summon a mana dagger, then slice open my palm. Amusingly, this action reduces my total amount of pain, since the mana in my vessel decreases and some of the pressure against my chest disappears. 

I really should figure that out before it becomes a problem. Ah well. I’ll get there, eventually. Surely it’s not something as silly as needing enough points in heart in order to tolerate my massive amounts of mana, right? Surely not. Maybe. Surely.

Instead of worrying about that, I squeeze the cut on my palm, suppressing the pain and letting Kuro drink my blood. The critter chitters happily as they eat. I, personally, can’t imagine a pure blood diet going well, but they seem to be healthy. “Do you need to eat anything else?” 

Kuro tilts their squishy little head and makes a small popping noise at me. Then, they simply resume slurping my blood, seeming plenty pleased with it. “Fair enough, then,” I say. The words trail off, and the world returns to blessed, blessed silence.

This place is empty, and I could not be more pleased. With a week of time at my hands, I look to Kuro. I wonder… what will I be able to learn from them with seven days to practice?