Magic Breaker Ch 46-48

Chapter 46: Out of the Bag

/Oh, Ion? Yeah, I know Ion alright. Fucking monster. Came to the first floor on the same day as I did. One night. That’s how long the peace lasted. Then what? Things blow up. Church of Respitia puts bounties out to bring them that monster’s head.

Me? Oh, no, I didn’t touch one. Fahahahaha. No, no. I don’t got no death wish. No. Tell the church that if they want me on the case, they oughta offer me a dozen free resurrections, up front. Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Hunting down Ion for you. What a joke. That thing don’t got a weakness./

-Thomas Buss, lv. 15 Earthstrider

- - -

Someone is pounding on my door. Slamming a fist against what I now know is a thick sheet of cured and hardened mushroom. I blink open my eyes, get out of the bed, sigh, and pull out a knife.

“Opal,” I say, and the echo knight rises from their fluffy pillow. “It’s go time.”

“Dar,” they say, poking their friend. The wulven snaps up. “Sylves.” Our fairy stirs.

“Huh? What?” 

I smile. “I’ll open the door,” I say. “And if something tries to kill me, I would like you to stop it.”

Dar blinks. Once, twice, closing both sets of eyes each time. “Right,” he mumbles. “Yes, okay.”

“Lovely.” Then, I pull open the door. Instantly, I’m faced with three people, two with wings, and one fuzzball. One of the winged ones slammed their hand against my door. Without hesitation, my mana sense flicks out against them. 

[Lightbearer, lv. 25]

Troublesome. But, then again, not insurmountable. I smile, pleasantly, as the group looks at me with grim faces. “Good morning,” I say

“Are you the one known as Ion?” they ask.

I shake my head. “Nope, not me. My name’s Ash.”

A bell chimes. “You lie,” one of them notes. 

“That’s fair, I should have expected that,” I say. “Well, wanna tell me why you’re here?”

The winged one steps closer to me, looking down on me. They’re tall, but I don’t back down, blocking the entrance to our room with my body. “I don’t appreciate you invading my personal space.”

“Your presence has been requested by the bishop of Respitia,” they snarl. “Your ability to heal wounds has been taken note of.”

“Yeah, alright. Tell them to go fuck themselves,” I reply, casually. At that, the winged one becomes even more enraged, and glowing light twirls around their wings. 

“We shall have to make you follow, then,” they say, then lunge.

I sigh. We’re doing this song and dance, then. With a small motion, I step back, out of reach before they can grab me. A beam of light streaks forward from their wings, aiming to tear through my shoulder. 

I break the magic.

It falls apart in mid air, [Deconstructed]. I [Select] the lightbearer. 

Dar charges the fuzzball, and Opal [blinks]. A moment later, I hear the sound of metal rending flesh, and a garbled scream. “Whowee, I can confidently say that I’m not a big fan of killing people,” they say casually, twirling their sword to get the blood off. And yet, they smile.

For just a moment, the horrible noise distracts the lightbearer, and that’s all I need. I step in at them, swinging my dagger, slamming it into their chest, then step back. They try to grab me again, but Kuro trips them, and then my [Suppression] activates them, slamming their body into the ground, and driving the knife in up to its hilt.

[You have killed a lv. 25 Scithian]

That’s their species, then, I note. When I look up, Dar has torn into the body of the fuzzball. They were a higher level than us, yes. They were older, and more used to combat, yes. But they were arrogant, and a moment is enough. I kneel down, withdrawing my knife from the corpse, wiping the blood on my bedsheets.

“Think we’ll get a refund?” I ask Opal.

They shake their head. “Nah,” they say. “Probably not.”

“Dang,” I say, then sigh. “Well. Might as well take what we can then. Go wake the others, I’ll pack.”

Before I even finish, the echo knight blinks, disappearing. Damn, I want that skill. Teleporting is just too awesome. Who wants to walk when you can literally instantly go anywhere? Despite my jealousy, I focus, placing anything that belongs to me in my pack. It’s not a lot, really, but that’s fine. I also grab a few pieces of cloth off the scithians and the fuzzball. Sylves would have wanted them, I’m sure.

Then, the others are in the hallway, already yelling at each other. I walk out, calmly handing Opal their backpack. Dar is downstairs, and I hear the sounds of violence. Inu quickly picks up Sylves from our room, then we sprint down. “Who do you think ratted us out?” I ask, heading downstairs.

Thatch’s skin starts blazing red, and I don’t think he’s in any condition to answer. Norman just curses, and Jess seems entirely focussed, her lips moving in chants. Chants? Weird. Must be a new skill of hers. Strong.

We get downstairs, and Dar is elbow deep in the guts of yet another scithian. And then, there is Paulino, standing so tall that their head almost scrapes the ceiling. “Oh, Ion. Good morning. One moment,” they say, slamming the face of a fuzzball they were holding in an enormous hand against the rim of a stone table. 

The creature goes limp, and flops to the floor. “There,” they say. “It seems that your healing came up in routine questions posed to other humans. Troublesome, huh?”

I tilt my head. Is he full of shit? Did they rat us out? Then, I remember his level.

No. They wouldn’t need to rat us out. Unless… did they do it to win my favour? A small smile spreads on my face. Ahhhhh, I wanna know! I wanna know!

“Good morning, Paulino,” I say. The entire downstairs is a mess. The bartender and [Archon of the Bathtub] gives us a long look. 

“You’ve used up the coin you gave me for the month,” he says. “It’ll go to repairs. Would you like the rest paid out in rations?”

Quickly, Inu nods, adjusting Sylves on her shoulder. “Yes, please.”

The gruff man nods once, then reaches under the tabletop. “Right shame,” he says, “that newbies like you’ll be hunted to the tunnels. Shoulda signed up with a guild.”

I smile. “Nah,” I say. “No guilds. No masters.”

He cracks a small, tiny hint of a smile at that. “Aye,” he says. “That’s the right attitude for a climber. Ye’ll go far. Here,” he tosses a handful of little packs at us. “Dried mushrooms, water, some salt and spices. Enough to last youse a week or two. Good luck. If anyone asks, I’m telling them everything I know.” He waves his hands. “Scamper off, now.”

What a helpful old man. “Fair’s fair. See you,” I see. I’m loath to leave those lovely, smooth coins with him, but if it must be, it must be.

We charge into the streets, and then, there’s trouble.

[You have caught the Eye of Respitia the Pure.]

[Respitia the Pure tells the Keeper of the Tunnels of your crimes against their servants.]

[The Keeper of the Tunnels sighs. They apologize. Their agents will strike you down if you are seen in Espiree within the next month.]

A guard in armor spots us. I sigh. How lovely.

[Flametouched laughs at your misery.]

The guard charges. “Stop being noisy and enjoy the show,” I tell the high-and-mighty ones. Time to cause a bit of havoc.

Chapter 47: Out of the City

We make it half a dozen steps out of the city before a guard charges at us. I’m annoyed. I wanted to buy more magic items, to take apart some of the things here. Now, all I can do is kill some assholes from the church and steal their gear? The enforcers who came to me didn’t even carry anything.

Are they underestimating us this much? Complacent bastards. I feel… nothing. The same blank spot I usually tell myself my care for other people goes. I sigh. Whatever.

My [Suppression] smacks into the guard, but she doesn’t slow down that much, just stumbles, then catches herself. I flick my skill off, and she stumbles. Then I flick it back on. Every time I do, she has to adjust the way she walks, and it makes her look like a penguin, waddling towards us. It’s funny. I almost snicker.

We sprint towards the exit of the city as fast as we can. Paulino pulls out a crackling arrow, shooting at some idiot wearing church colours, embellished with the icon of a spring. The target gets hit, spasms, and goes to the floor. We run some more.

And then run some more, and some more.

Being chased really isn’t all that interesting, I note distantly. I hop, skip and jump to avoid abilities and traps thrown at me. Bay’s mechanical arm snatches a pair of manacles out of the air. “Enchanted!” she tells me.

My eyes light up. Being chased really is just that interesting. 

Abilities start to come in as soon as we start catching the items to steal. Paulino blocks a good few projectiles, by shooting them with his bow, and the rest needa make it through me. And with both [Suppression] and [Deconstruction] running at full tilt? Their odds are poor.

My mana plummets as I pour it into my abilities, leaving my breathing ragged, but that’s fine. I take apart beams of light, sword slashes, energy coatings- ah. The spear itself does stick into my shoulder, since I only [Deconstructed] the coating. Rookie mistake.

[Deconstruction 5 > 6]

Still, being the target of so many abilities is excellent practice for my skill. I need to recognize their patterns, then use my magical toolbox to break them apart. This, currently, amounts to little more than smacking them with a big hammer from my deconstruction toolkit, and sometimes slicing at weak nodes.

It gives me less knowledge on the abilities than usual, but with that and [Suppression], the magic of half a dozen people, all higher level, breaks against me. I grin.

Then, a lance of light slams through my calf so fast I cannot counter it. 

Instantly, I go down. My leg won’t carry my weight anymore, and my face slams into the floor. “Opal, now would be a great time-” 

“Got it!” My friend yells, blinking to my side and snatching me up from the floor. I get tossed over their shoulder unceremoniously, becoming little more than a portable antimagic field. That’s okay though. Not needing to walk is kinda nice. Plus, Opal smells good. Then their shoulder jostles into my stomach and I frown.

“Focus!” Inu yells at me.

Oh, right. I use [Selection], honing in my worldview on the general idea of magic. Other things fade away, and my sight boils down to a colourful menagerie of mana and flickering power. I note a few abilities coalescing close to us, and then smash them before they even activate properly.

[Deconstruction 6 > 7]

[Class up! Deconstructor 8 > 9]

The extra point in vessel gives me a little more mana to rely on. Which is good, because I can see someone charge up that nasty laser that tore through my leg again. And this one is shielded - I can’t just smash it.

So, I do something different. 

[Selection] hones in on that one target, and [Suppression] activates. Not to decrease the power of the spell… but to increase its charging time. I see the expression on the charger change, his face going from a sneer to a surprise, then to a frown. His mana is entering the spell, but not properly taking hold. It’s dissipating, unable to take shape the right way.

I grin, smugly. More and more mana pours through me, through a tether, and infects that construct with grey sludge. My power clings to it, muddying up threads, making connections malfunction, keeping his mana at bay and making it dissipate. It’s a war of attrition.

When Paulino’s arrow strikes the man’s chest, sending him spasming to the ground, I know I’ve won it.

The city gates are in sight. Just a few more steps and we’ll be out. Except, of course, it is never that easy.

A blinding pillar of light descends on me, and Opal disappears beneath me, blinked away. A very reasonable choice, I note, as my skin starts to burn before I’ve even touched down on the stone.

[The Flametouched compliments Respitia the Pure’s methods. Respitia the Pure responds with disgust.]

Not a moment of respite, really. I slam into the stone not even a heartbeat later, my skin splitting open from the impact. The radiant pillar of light burns my skin, cooking me alive. It hurts, but I bear with the pain. All of my mana is poured into [Suppression], keeping a tiny field of it active around me, holding off the pillar. Except, the spell adjusts.

It twists and changes to match my suppression, piercing through the skill. I grit my teeth as the pain intensifies, casting it again, adding another layer that I twist a little bit, to counter the light. It changes again. I cast another layer.

For a moment, my world becomes the pin of a needle again. It’s me and my magic against that pillar. I counter it, and get countered in return. Over and over and over.

My world thins.

[Selection 8 > 9]

I focus. I focus my entire being on it. Counter after counter after counter after counter. I use any bit of knowledge I’ve gained from tearing apart the previous spells in this one, every flaw, every weakness, every exploit I can think of. I struggle, I thrash. My skin blisters and bubbles, but I refuse to die. I refuse.

Mana pours out of me, a torrent of it into my skin, scraping the bottom of my vessel clean of every drop, and then still scrambling for more with my fingernails. My eyes bleed, but the blood evaporates. I don’t even taste the iron in my mouth. 

Over, and over, and over again, I am forced to adjust my [Suppression]. Barrier after barrier, shield after shield against the overwhelming magic.

When the ground crumbles underneath me, I am embraced by cool shadows, and they come as a relief. The last thing I see with my good eye is a figure, hovering high above me, backed by an enormous eye. My senses brush against them.

[Darkbreaker, lv. 52]

I’ll see you again, motherfucker.

[Suppression 9 > 10]

The darkness takes me.

Chapter 48: For a Friend

PoV: Inu Brook-Chavez - Hound

I fall through the floor as it all suddenly crumbles away underneath me. It’s scary, and I hate it, but some part of me is glad. When the darkness of the caves below replaces the light from that horrible pillar and the glowing mushrooms, I feel glad.

Snow didn’t scream. Didn’t even make a noise. And yet. That kind of suffering… Fucking horrible.

When my back slams against cool stones, for a while, I don’t want to get up. Then there’s a wet splat, and I don’t have to ask who made that particular noise. I wanna throw up. I’m scared, so scared. Sylves is on the floor next to me, sprawled out on the cool rock, and the ceiling closes above us.

Bay activates her flashlight, and I crawl over to Snow. My friend is sprawled out on the floor, bleeding from a hundred lacerations of their skin. It looks cut and boiled all at once, entirely red and covered in welts. I wanna throw up. But I [Resist].

Slowly, I brace myself for what’s to come. A shiver runs through me, then there’s a hand on my shoulder. Opal. “Give me some of it,” they say. 

“What?” The words taste foreign on my tongue.

They smile at me, with that same, confident expression they always wear. “Snow’s pain,” they say, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Give me some of it.”

I blink. “What?” I repeat. But, then, the look in their eyes tells me everything. I nod, slowly, gently, and activate [Empathy]. I designate Snow as a target. I feel around, and find it. The pain. It’s not hard to find; in fact, it’s harder to find anything else. That pure, unfiltered agony is at the very top of anything Snow’s experiencing.

Slowly, I tap into that. The pain flows into my skill and demands a target. I designate Opal, then myself. 

Agony.

Liquid fire crawls through my veins. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

I [Resist] it. As best as I can, with everything I have, I [Resist]. My body is stronger than Snow’s. My skill is better at enduring punishment. And yet, it hurts so fucking bad.

“Whooo!” Opal cheers. “Now that’s a fucking kick, alright. Hahahaha! Damn. Fuck!” They’re sprawled on the floor, too, sword clattering from their fingers as the agony sets in. 

Mom comes over, kneeling down next to Snow. Bay and Thatch are talking with the sumeen, thanking their earthshaper for saving us. My mother gently places a finger on Snow’s skin, and applies [Freeze].

It’s calm, unfazed, and entirely unlike her. I’d always known her to panic under stress. She was the first one to suggest we just hide out the apocalypse… yet here she is. Kneeling next to my dying friend and using magic. To help. Without a noise of complaint.

“Cool, not cold,” I whisper to her.

She looks at me, then nods, dialling down her usage of mana. The skill descends like a gentle blanket, and I can feel some of the endless agony drain out of me. I hiss, drawing air into my lungs by force, blinking the tears from my eyes. 

Fuck. It really was just that bad.

I resolve myself. I know Snow would do the same for me. Without a complaint, without a single whimper, I know that stupid idiot would do it. So, I could do the same. I don’t voice my hurt, just set my teeth, biting down, and taking in some more pain.

Halfway through, I have to [Resist] screaming my lungs out, too.

But I don’t stop. Despite everything, I keep going. Because it’s what I’m supposed to do. I know my dad touches my shoulder, but the sensation is so distant, so minor compared to everything else, that it’s no more than background noise. I breathe, despite everything, I breathe.

It’s just pain. It’s just pain. It’s just pain. I repeat the mantra, as if it would save me, as if it could help, but it doesn’t. There’s nothing other than agony. And I just cannot, anymore. It’s too much. Far, far too much.

I’m not like Snow. I can’t just put on that deadpan expression and act. I can’t. It hurts, and tears stream down my face. I want it to stop, to put it somewhere else, and at even just the idea of that, I see Opal’s entire body draw tight.

No. That’s unfair too.

I wanna rage against the world, against how unfair it all is. But no one cares, no one listens. Except, someone does.

[You have caught the Eye of the Master of Suffering.]

My teeth grind against each other. Those. The spectators, from on high. I feel anger at them, and for a second, that anger wins out over the pain. Voyeurs, the lot of them. Watching us without permission, simply to suit their fancy.

No. They don’t get to. Don’t get to see me suffer.

I pour more of myself into my skills. They’re my sanity, my self. I have always been tough. I roll with the punches, I resist, I stay kind. That’s who I am, that’s who I’ve always been, that’s who I will be.

[Resistance 5 > 8]

The pain abates, but it’s not enough. Now, my anger burns hotter. I draw in more, into myself, into my vortex, and remain unshaken, as my class demands. This is mine. My burden to bear, my duty and my task. I pull it all in, drawing it into a maelstrom, a reservoir. A reservoir?

Right. There is a vessel inside me now, right? Who said I can only store mana in it? Who says I need to keep to one vessel? Fuck that. 

I pull, and pull, and pull. Agony lances up my arms, but I refuse to let it show. Just like Snow, I simply take it, breathing, having my face remain calm. It hurts, I sweat, tears stream down my face, but I don’t scream. I don’t scream.

And then, finally, it all pours into itself, into a little spot designated for it. 

[New Skill acquired!]

[Reservoir 0 > 1]

It pours into a spot designated for all the suffering in the world. For every bit of pain and misery that doesn’t deserve to see the light of day. Then, I just sit there, thinking.

Reservoir. How much can I hold, before I break? How do I pour it out? Can I use it, productively? Perhaps let someone feel a touch of another’s struggles, to make them feel a bit of care?

I take a deep breath. No matter. I can store the suffering. I don’t want to bottle it up, but… my eyes drift to Snow. Yes. We will find a use for it, surely. 

And if we don’t, and if I break… well, that’s fine, if it’s for a friend.