Magic Breaker Ch 34-36

Chapter 34: Enchanting

I want it. Instantly, without a moment of hesitation, I know I want it. It has to be a job, right? Enchanting. It has to be.

What else is enchanted? The lines are so tiny, I can barely see them with my eyes. I only noticed cuz the crystal was covered with mana.

“Opal, give me your sword,” I demand.

“Huh!” they yelp, clutching the blade. “What are you planning to do with it?!”

I blink. “Stop being silly,” I say. “I wanna take a look.”

“Yeah,” Thatch nods, grabbing in Opal’s direction. “Hand it over.”

They roll their eyes, cutting the teasing short. “Fine, fine. Just don’t damage it.”

Instantly, I snatch the sword from them, running my fingers over the metal. Thatch stares intently, eyes glowing. Nothing. Nothing. My finger catches.

A thin, tiny line. So faint I can barely feel it, but it’s there. Disguised by the finish on the steel. I trace it, and the line curves, curling in on itself. Then there’s a jagged edge and it splits into two parts. A pattern.

Step by tiny step, I trace it, making sure to memorize the shape. Enchanting. Real, honest to god, enchanting. Hells yes. I want a shirt enchanted to be as soft as possible. One that doesn’t stain with blood, and that repairs itself, too! Something that hides my silhouette and that's comfortable to wear forever!

I wanna take their sword apart. The temptation to cast [Deconstruction] on it is real, but all I do is trace the lines and memorize them. If this goes on, I really do need to work on a structured way of remembering things soon. Maybe build myself a mind palace or something.

At that, I cut my errant thoughts off, focussing on my task. Distantly, I notice Amelie, Jess, Norman, Inu and Opal as well as Dar and Richard head into the maze. Me and Thatch take the enchantments in, while Bay is going ham on the wall and Sylves hovers in the air, stitching fabrics together.

Opal takes their sword back, and I let them. I know the pattern well enough, now, instead focussing on the crystal gain. “Thatch?” 

“Yeah?”

“You seen it all?”

“One more minute,” he asks, and I nod, tracing the lines with my finger.

I feel impatient. I wanna know what it does. How does it store mana? How can I take it for myself? Can I craft these? I could store mana while I sleep and practice more during the day… or power bigger spells all at once. 

After a little bit, Thatch taps me. “All done.”

He doesn’t need to tell me twice. Without hesitation, I absorb most of the mana in the crystal, filling me back up to halfway, then instantly pour that all into a [Deconstruction]. Could I use the stone as a battery? Yes. Absolutely, I could.

I don’t care. It cracks, breaks into a thousand tiny pieces, but I don’t care. Already, my skill reveals the structure that the runes take, and compared to the skills I’ve been looking at, it’s so simple. My right eye starts bleeding again, but compared to the healing spell? This is nothing.

Every bit of it, each tiny curve, I remember. I grab my needle of solid mana and a piece of metal, and scratch away. “Put my headphones on me,” I tell Thatch, and they do as I ask.

The word disappears. Faint music plays, but there’s no lyrics, nothing to distract me, even the sticky feeling of the headphones against my burnt flesh forgotten. It’s just me, full focus, in the silence. I use my mana-needle as a stylus. The lines are ugly and rough, but I mimick Opal’s sword. I mimic the way the crystal works. I scratch it all into the metal.

Minutes tick by as I work feverishly. I don’t care about the dungeon anymore, or whether it’ll give me a minor request. I’d been planning to ask for info on what job suited me best anyway, but now? I wanted to enchant. 

With Bay’s help, I might be able to turn mana into electricity. I’d be able to run my phone as a music player forever. Just turn off the outside world, never need to worry about bringing chargers. Maybe even self repair stuff on my headphones, so they never break…

Yes. I want it.

Only a little more time passes, and then my crude runes are done. The metal was tough to affect, but my solid mana did it. I fed it a bit of my regeneration, keeping the tip of the needle sharp. Now, I have a slab of coppery metal with flat runes carved into it.

The ones from the crystal were meant to be circular, so it’s a botched job. The ones from Opal’s blade I don’t understand as well, so it’s a botched job. I still pour mana into them, activating them.

In my hand, the plates turns searing hot. I drop it without hesitation. There’s a horrible screech, and the metal twists in on itself, ruining all the work I’ve done. But still. I smile.

Whatever I fucked up, it certainly had an effect. Not the intended one, not at all, but it did. I enchanted something! 

A laugh bubbles out of me, and the system agrees. 

[Congratulations!]

It pipes up. “Yeah,” I say, grinning. “I did it. That was an enchantment.”

[You have gained access to your job through essence and skill.]

[Additional details will be revealed. Brace.]

I’m already sitting, so when the info pours into my head, I don’t mind too much. It’s much the same as what Sylves told me. Jobs are paths that are somewhat explored, that we are encouraged to experiment on. Our innovations will give us levels and stats, and in exchange, our experiences will provide essence for the system to grant others.

That’s fine. There are some mechanics to keep secrets built in, but right now, I’m way too bad to care for those. Really, this is almost like an investment in education. Raising new generations of craftspeople, so that they can teach more people in turn.

So, we’ll get stats. We’ll get essence packets. But we will not get any materials, needing to find those ourselves. Can we direct the essence we get? Can we ask questions? Will we get multiple packets from the same teacher? I wanna know it all, but it doesn’t tell me.

And that’s entirely fine, too. I’ll find out, after all. For now, I want to know my options. Just like classes, jobs stack, giving increasingly higher stat bonuses. For now, I want to see them.

[Job Options: <Tinkerer>, <Preserver>, <Musician>, <Enchanter>, <Moonlight Weaver>, <Firestarter (sponsored)>, <Pathetic Politician (sponsored)>, <Darkfletcher (sponsored)>, <Agonyforger (sponsored)>] 

I frown. “System, please, in the future, exclude options that are intended to directly sabotage my potential.”

[Job Options: <Tinkerer>, <Preserver>, <Musician>, <Enchanter>, <Moonlight Weaver>, <Darkfletcher (sponsored)>, <Agonyforger (sponsored)>]

As I thought. Two of the powers with an eye of me seem genuinely interested in my growth. They seem to view me positively, for one reason or another. Firestarter was probably granted by whatever decided to give me the lovely brand on my molten face, and the politician class was for the thing that saw me when we crushed the mayor, its sponsored champion.

[The Deceptive Manipulator smirks as you discover their trick.]

I shake my head at that. Someone who’s in it for the game of it all, then? How annoying.

Still, I’m not about to rely on the goodwill of these critters to rise above, even if they currently want to support me. No. I’ll do it my way. Without hesitation, I pick enchanter.

[Job gained: <Enchanter>]

[Stat bonuses: +1 Vessel per level]

[Experience modules: Enchanting]

And then, the big one. Every class, every job, bestows something upon acquisition. 

[Essence Bestowed: Runecraft.]

Information floods into me. It’s a little more gentle, more slow than the lake, but it still feeds me. Like a textbook, with guidance and diagrams on how to cut. How to create runes, how to place them on flat surfaces, how to etch them onto metal, what tools to use, how to fuel them… 

Feverishly, I pounce on another discarded plate of metal from Bay, pulling out my needle. I will it to change shape, feeding it mana, solidifying more and more of that magic, and pushing it into a shape more suited to carving metal, a somewhat proper enchanting stylus.

[Solidification 4 > 5]

It’s the biggest I’ve made my construct until now, but it works. The mana comes together. It feeds off my regeneration, and I begin to dig into the metal. Carving away, following my memory, letting the essence-based intuition guide me. 

Bit by bit, I carve away pieces of metal. It bends a bit under the force of the style, the walls becoming a little more dense than they otherwise should. I know I’m introducing stress and flaws into the metal. That my lines are ugly and larger than they need to be. That I’m missing key parts of the enchantment. 

And I don’t care. It doesn’t need to be pretty. It just needs to work. I wanna enchant something, properly enchant it. And then, when I finish the last line, it glows. I’m out of mana. “Feed it a bit, Thatch,” I tell him, my mouth feeling dry.

The music in my ears stops his answer from coming through, but he does as asked. Mana flows into the rune, and the copper plate glows a little. It’s not thick, but not thin enough to cut, either. Yet, when I press it against my palm, my skin splits, and I bleed.

A laugh bubbles out from my throat, as my shadow greedily devours the crimson drops. “Hahaha. Hahahaha. Ahahahaha!” It’s magic. Something I made. And the world listens to it.

[New Skill acquired!]

[Inscription 0 > 1]

[Job Up! Enchanter 0 > 2]

A new skill. Not bestowed on me, but earned. I figured it out. Found the lines. Learned them. Reproduced them. A grin spreads on my face. There really is nothing more magical than, well, magic!

Next to me, a part of the wall explodes in Bay’s face, and she laughs alongside me. There’s something wonderful about taking things apart.

Chapter 35: Spending the Night

By the time the others come back out of the maze to the edge of the grove, we’re covered in soot. Bay’s hands and face are stained with oil, and so are mine from taking apart more of the maze. Thatch pointed out interesting sections with his eyes. Bay [Deactivated] the most fragile components. Then I took them apart, and we fell onto the parts like rabid beasts.

Bay already got the <Mechanic> job, way before I picked up mine. It’s okay. I’m too happy with <Enchanter> to care at all. Thatch doesn’t pick up a job quite yet, but I can tell he’s gotten close. I wonder what flavour he’ll want?

Jess, Norman and Amelie come back out with classes, and everyone’s levels are higher. By now, all of us except Bay have a class. Me, Bay and Sylves have jobs, too. I’ll let the others decide for themselves what they want to do. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.

For now, I’m rather pleased with my progress. When I look at the sky, I find that most of the day has faded, but it’s not been without gains. We’ve torn down twelve sections of wall. Bay fashioned herself a gauntlet of whirring gears that makes a noise as if it could tear her arm off.

Whenever she sends a pulse into it, the thing extends a set of nasty claws rather quickly. It’s a terrifying construction, and I don’t think I’d wanna take a hit from it.

I love it.

“You look like shit,” Opal informs me, helpfully. 

They do have a point. I was wearing my headphones over the burnt side of my face, and it took a good bit of water to wash the dried blood off of them without damaging them. Now, they’re safely tucked away in my backpack again. “Yeah,” I reply, simply.

Looking at my skills, I think it’s worth it.

[Inscription 1 > 2]

[Inscription 2 > 3]

[Job up! Enchanter 2 > 4]

The extra points in vessel help me regenerate my mana just a little bit faster, so I pour another bit into the healing spell. By now, after casting it a few more times over the course of the day, whenever I had mana to spare, my face is looking a little better. Not good, not even close. But better.

I’m still blind in one eye, though, and I don’t think that’ll change soon. It makes the whole “carving inscriptions” bit harder. That’s fine, too. I don’t mind the challenge. Slowly, I let my manic focus on enchanting fade. It was fun, really. There is some very satisfying joy to be won from carving enchantments. A little like drawing, back when I did more of that.

Not that I’ve made something useful quite yet, but that’s okay. My next essence packet is coming in a single level, but I hold off from practicing more. I take a breath, sit back, and focus on surviving. It’s evening, and Richard seems at her highest awareness.

She sits down next to me, giving a small sigh. I tilt my head a little at the gesture. “Tired,” she says. I tilt my head more, and she gives a wry smile. “People tired.”

Ah. That makes sense. I nod, then look away, letting the Hiy’ht recover her social battery in peace. Dar is asking Opal to spar, and the enby agrees with a reluctant sigh. I can see that they want to, though. Bay ruffles Thatch’s hair as he works through some more mechanical bits. 

I see Amelie shift her focus from her puppets, now a pile of armor and a vine made from machine gears and interlocking scales and plates, to her strings in general. She sits in her wheelchair and slowly weaves them, creating interlocking bits of fabric.

Sylves floats in the air, stitching cloth together, and throwing glances at whatever the girl in the wheelchair is doing. She’s probably hungry for more fabric, I note, so if Amelie could make more… well. I’m sure Sylves would be rather happy.

Then there’s Norman and Jess, who are trying out their new class abilities. Norman fades from my view, and Jess actually seems to pull a ball of fire from thin air, having it float just slightly above her hand. Huh.

Inu also moves to sit down next to me, looking up into the sky. She doesn’t say anything. Just looks up, at the eyes and the stars behind them. Slowly, I open my mouth to talk. “Long day?” I ask.

She hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head. “No, actually,” she says. “That’s what scares me. It went by so fast. I almost had fun in there. Breaking the robots.”

“Scared?” I ask.

“Ah. It makes me feel… unkind,” she says.

I nod. “Yeah, I get that.”

She snickers, laughing a little. “You would,” she says. Then, she lets out a long, quiet sigh. “Yeah, you would.”

“You’re a kind person, Inu,” I tell her. 

“How would you know?” she smirks. It’s bait. She just wants to hear it, and that’s okay.

I smile, just a little. “Well. My first skill was [Suppression], right? Remind me what yours was?”

Faintly, her lips curl. “Empathy.”

“Yeah,” I say. “You care. You make an effort to keep others comfortable. You want people to be safe, and you try to keep them safe. That’s kind, isn’t it?”

A long moment passes quietly. “Yeah,” she sigh and pouts. “I suppose it is.” She nods, then takes another pause. “Can I have a hug?”

“Sure,” I say. Gently, I wrap my arms around her. She leans into me, and I hold her for a little while.

The apocalypse is difficult. For her more than for me, probably. But she’s trying. She really is. The moments tick by. Eventually, she pulls back, crossing her legs, looking at the star-studded, Eye-covered sky. Then, I ask.

“What job are you planning on getting?” I ask.

“It’s silly,” she says.

“Then I wanna know even more.” I smirk.

Inu rolls her eyes at me, then sighs playfully. “Fine. Therapist.”

“Huh?” 

She turns a bit red. “Therapist. That’s… that’s gotta be a job, right? Surely. It’s a path, meant to do a thing that helps others and-”

“It’s awesome,” I tell her. The words are so genuine that she pauses. 

“What?”

“It’s awesome,” I repeat. “And a great goal. I think you got this.”

She just looks at me for a bit, then turns away. “Thanks,” she says, eventually. “What do you think is next?” she asks.

“We hide,” I say. “Spend the night here, hope none of the descenders catch us, and we see what the next stage of integration is about.”

Slowly, Inu nods. “Okay,” she says. “I can do that.”

“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll keep everyone safe.”

“What if I’m worrying about you, too?” she asks.

I smirk. “Then that’d make you a rather kind person.”

She laughs. Out loud, happily, for a long moment. “You’re such an idiot, Snow.”

“One tries,” I say, smiling. Then the expression slowly fades. “One tries.” Because effort is all I can give.

Chapter 36: Final Stage

Night falls. We eat our crappy meals. We sit, and we talk, and sometimes practice our abilities. I practice the most, of course, while the others are content to relax just a bit. I don’t hold it against them, though I see my friends engage in little bits of practice, almost unconsciously.

Inu taps her leg, her hand bouncing up and down from her class ability. Opal runs a finger along their blade, and the small sound it makes echoes. I see Sylves float in the air, humming an eerie tune while she stitches more clothes, and Thatch meditates, his mana circulating. 

They’re not at all lazy. In fact, they might be even more exceptional than me. I need to focus on the things I do, on suppressing my pain, practicing the healing spell, analyzing all the bits of magic I stole, repeating the runes I know, and solidifying more mana. Compared to me, they seem to almost automatically do the things they wanna do.

Compared to me, they really look like prodigies. I smile, pleased with that thought.

I don’t pay much mind to the others. They’re free to do their own thing, and I have too much to learn.

Eventually, though, sleep catches me. Just for an hour or three, but after last night? I needed them. Badly. 

Richard wakes me up. She doesn’t touch me, but chitters her mandibles close to me, making me open my eyes. The moon’s high in the sky, dim light filtering through the eyes. “Almost time,” the hiy’ht reminds me.

“Thanks,” I nod.

Slowly, more minutes drift by, and then, the darkness creeps in. This time, it feels staticy. Charged. Different.

Just before the world darkens entirely, I see everyone wake up. All of them, parents, kids, aliens. And then, that black, all-consuming static takes over the entire world.

[Congratulations!]

The message appears, just as usual, but this time it seems more solid. Loud and ephemeral. Like it’s flickering in front of my inner eye, vanishing and reappearing. It feels… violent. Foreboding.

I breathe, and the world makes my hair stand on end. It feels like I’m being pulled in all directions at once.

[You have survived the fourth stage of descent. Final stage of descent imminent. Prepare.]

The world rumbles. Not like all those times before. Not like when it was allowed for people who could casually melt my face to come down. Not like when it merged multiple planets.

It rumbles as if it’s about to break apart. The amount of power pouring in is horrifying. So much so that I can feel it. The system seems almost absolute. Almost perfect. The way it healed my body when I put stats into it is so infinitely intricate, so tiny and miniscule, so powerful and incredible.

And now, even that amazing creation fails to hide what’s happening. The entire world is brushed with ink, absorbed in staticy darkness, but the flow of power is simply too much. A flood of mana so great it could tear me apart a million times over descends, seeping into the ground, into the world.

[Integration complete. Curious?]

That last word has an edge to it, almost teasing. But I am curious. I want to know. Of course I want to know!

[Species: Homo Sapiens. Two billion five-hundred thirty-three million seven-hundred sixty-two thousand two-hundred and thirty deaths.]

An astronomical number. A third. It’s a third of humanity, gone. Wiped out. Killed by goblins, by aliens, by people coming down from the tower. I look at it for a moment, then I shrug. 

Oh well. I kept everyone safe that I meant to keep safe. Really, I contributed to those deaths, didn’t I?

I chased humans out of a dungeon. Thatch killed two people, I killed one. We could’ve killed more, but we didn’t. I could have saved dozens, but I didn’t. So… oh well. Something something big numbers are just a statistic, right?

Yeah right.

It should hurt, but all I find is a sense of apathy. I don’t really care that much. I even feel a bit superior, almost proud I did better than the dead. And that’s what disappoints me the most about myself. Perhaps, next time, I could try a little harder. But I know I probably won’t. 

Regardless, the static grows, and the world changes some more. I breathe, slowly taking it all in. More info pours into my head, about the way the world works. About leaderboards, about how well I did. About how I can prove I am greater than anyone else.

And then, it stops. I’ve been given the info I need. The stuff that’ll matter on the first floor.

[Retain Anonymity?] 

I nod. Yeah.

[Select Pseudonym.]

My eyes dart over my skill list, and I smile. Yeah, there’s a theme in there. “Ion,” I say.

[Acknowledged.]

[Integration complete.]

[Ascension is now possible. Climb.]

As expected, Earth is floor 0. A new place being integrated into something much, much bigger. I’m a speck of dust, a curiosity, a piece of entertainment, a new toy for descenders and the eyes. 

Yeah. I’ll climb alright. I’ll climb out there, and I’ll pluck those eyes out of the damn sky. Show them what it means to be supreme. I don’t feel any particular need to prove it to others, honestly. I don’t need to step on those weaker than me.

All I need to do is prove to the world that I can go up there. No, not the world. I don’t care about the world. Couldn’t care less.

I’ll prove it to myself. I’ll prove that the me of today is better than the me of yesterday. And the me of tomorrow better do better than the me of today, or I’ll never forgive them. And I’ll forgive my past self for my weakness, too.

A grin spreads on my face. “Alright,” I whisper. “I’ll ascend. As high as I can go.” 

The sky always belonged to me.

The darkness cracks, and recedes, the static lifting. Somehow, it feels like it’s running away from me. 

A new day breaks. The world changes. I welcome it with open arms.