Chapter 279: Magic

Chapter 279: Magic

/There are mountains beyond the mountains. There are skies beyond the skies.

There is no perfection. There is no pinnacle.

To cultivate is to challenge the heavens, but more than that, it is to challenge yourself.

Grow for the sake of growth. Want for the sake of wanting. Be greedy. Be selfish. Be kind. Indulge.

And seek out the heights as far as you can go. 

Life is a climb. So reach as high as you can. For your own sake./

- Central idea of cultivation.

- - - - - -

“I heard there’s a new monster on the loose,” someone whispered. 

“Well I heard that he wears a robe like a hurricane, pants as dark as nightmares, and a veil that hides his face, because he is too hideous to be looked at!” someone else added.

“Bah, you know nothing. He hides his face for it is too handsome for mortals. If anyone witnessed it, they would die from a heart attack!” someone else said, slapping the table in the bar and making drinks jump. 

The door to the inn swung open, and a tall stranger walked in. He was handsome, with fire-red hair, and eyes that burned with passion, all wreathed in an impeccable white suit, unstained of the dirt that comes with travelling. A single look could drive one mad, if they were inclined towards the masculine. 

In fact, a handful of men and women did faint. The handsome man was soon followed by a stranger, shorter than him, wearing a veil. His robes were a stark white that blurred around the edges, and his pants a shiny black of metal, yet they flowed smoothly with every step. Around his face, there was a veil.

Talk in the bar quieted for a while, even as the third member of the motley group, a girl that was a few years into her adulthood, caught up with them. She was panting, holding her legs as soon as she stormed in, and the handsome man threw her a wry glance.

“You’re still here,” he said. His voice was neutral, and people stared as he talked. Was this his daughter? She had none of his hair or features. An apprentice perhaps. “Can you like… stalk someone else?” Then he waved his hand a few times, in a shooing motion.

Instantly, people stared harder. A stalker? Who’d dare to bother someone of such magnificent beauty?! It was an affront to all of society that she’d dare! To someone older than her too! My, that girl must be mad!

Already, a few bargoers got up to toss the girl out, but the man in the veil just chuckled. “Word choice, Zyl. We don’t dictate anyone’s paths.” And then, with those words, he sat down at a table. 

Again, eyes drifted from the fiery-haired man to the veiled one. Their gazes lingered for long, stretched moments. Could it be? Surely not. Many wore veils, and his robes looked too mundane. His pants were not terrifying.

… But… it was always better to not bother a monster. 

Impostor or not, they were cultivators. That much was clear. Obvious, even. They carried no weapons, and yet, every single person in that room knew, without a doubt, that they were cultivators. It was a vital skill as a mortal to learn who could kill you and who couldn’t - that’s why threat detection skills were so common in the east.

It took only a moment for the waitress to approach their table, and not a single soul in that restaurant complained. Except for the man in the veil. Even as Mira sat down, he simply waved a dismissive hand. “Do not hurry for us,” he asked. “Simply treat us as everyone else.”

Instantly, the waitress bowed. “Of course, esteemed sir,” she said quietly, then hurried off. One did not dare question the request of a hidden master. 

Whispers slowly blossomed, like a flower in spring. They spread through the bar, yet no one dared to voice them too loudly. And yet, people were people. Even the fear of death could curb their talks only for so long.

They talked. Slowly but surely, one by one, conversations restarted. The strangers ordered simple drinks, and the girl laid her head on the table tiredly. The man in the veil simply stared ahead, unbothered by anything. In fact, even the whispers seemed to leave him unbothered, his mind elsewhere entirely, his drink untouched.

Perhaps, in front of his face, there was a screen?

[<Oceanic Consciousness> has met the necessary qualifications for evolution. Evolve? (800 Skill points)]

Mercury smiled faintly at the notification. “Confirm,” he said.

[Evolution confirmed. Engaging. Please pick an option to evolve the Skill into. The price will be the same (800 Skill points), no matter which you choose.]

[1. <Tsunami of Thought>

2. <Vassal Vessel>

3. <Mindbloom>

4. <Dredge>]

What an intriguing set of options. Mercury looked them over one by one.

[<Tsunami of Thought>: The user’s mind is like the ocean. Water withdraws. The longer it rests, the greater the force. Your mind will begin passively storing energy, nearly limitlessly, which can be released all at once to compute a complex problem, before needing to once again store energy. Minor warning for potential brian damage due to overacceleration.]

What a strange skill. Mercury smiled slightly at it. It was interesting, an intriguing change to his current consciousness, which simply let him dive deeper. It also continued the ocean-theme, which told him it was a reasonably direct follow-up to what he had before. But he wasn’t fully sold.

[<Vassal Vessel>: Turn your thoughts into a tool. With this Skill, you gain the ability to create permanent sub-routines, pseudo-instances of your own self that will complete any task assigned to them without any load being applied to the main consciousness. Delegate your work and harvest the fruits.]

This one rankled him a little. It felt almost like turning parts of himself to the subordinates of other parts of himself. Would he really make himself his own subordinate after finally escaping an office job? Absolutely not.

[<Mindbloom>: This Skill comes with no immediate benefits. The user’s mind will remain as if the evolution had never happened - however, it is granted a passive growth modifier. Every experience and memory the user forms after gaining this skill will further strengthen their mind. Water yourself with memories in the soil of experience.]

Yet again, the system offered him something with a caveat. The skill had no direct buff. Which seemed rather strange from an evolution. Instead, it promised him limitless, passive growth. Which seemed rather delicious. His mind was already growing stronger with training, and this would only enhance that process.

[<Dredge>: Never forget. Your mind becomes a true ocean, memories like treasure in the water. Anything you experience will be saved permanently, though ideas will become dim. This Skill allows you to additionally dredge up any old experience, and apply it to the current situation. Time required for dredging based on time passed since memory elapsed.]

His final option was another one with an ocean theming, and its functions seemed focused on storage, mostly. Remembering everything with the caveat of seeking it out was nice. A little bit like a mind palace, except as treasure in the ocean. It did feel a little… alienating from who he was, though.

Mercury smiled at the options. His Skill choices seemed to really be turning more bizarre. All of these had some kind of “gimmick”, now. But they were fun gimmicks, largely. Looking at you, <Vassal Vessel>. In the end, though, it came down to a simple fact:

He didn’t need a massive improvement right now, or a massive change to how he ticked. Instead, letting himself naturally grow based on his experiences seemed far more pleasant - and promised the highest ceiling in the future. Further evolutions along that line also seemed like they’d be exceedingly promising.

Without any significant threat, he could focus on his own growth, and selfishly strive for the highest point he could reach. And so, he made his choice.

[Evolution selected.]

[The individual has acquired the Skill <Mindbloom lv. 1> through Skill evolution!]

Having settled that, Mercury didn’t feel any immediate change to himself, just as the Skill promised. Instead, there was a gentle pulling sensation at the back of his head. Like he was just the tiniest bit sore. It quickly faded into the background, barely even noticeable, but distinctly there.

By the time he was done, he already had his food in front of him. When he turned with a small rustle of fabric, Zyl just shot him a wink. Smiling softly, Mercury ate his meal quietly, with Mira by his side slurping down some noodles.

Apparently, him showing up her family as much as he did had given her some new interest in life. She now wanted to see the world. And be his apprentice. Which he politely turned down, because he was by no means suited to teach anyone about cultivation. Really, he didn’t even know what it was about. Mercury wasn’t a cultivator.

But he probably would be one, soon. An amateur, but with how many scrolls he had on techniques, it would be a waste not to use them. So, he was slowly making his way through them, and beginning to understand cultivation and its realms. Though it did all feel a little… arbitrary to him.

Well, that was true for any power system, he supposed. The Godseeker’s Guild also had their ranks, and those were a little… he hesitated to say pointless, but there certainly was more nuance to it than that. As of right now, Mercury had trounced cultivators without even being one himself.

Judging himself by the standard of these lands, he would probably be something of a “magus” or a “sorcerer”. Someone who used a different power system to conjure up effects similar to that of cultivation - a system that was far less categorised around here.

He certainly wasn’t a “mortal”. After all, he stepped into the martial world without hesitation. Mercury had learned as much a while ago. Anyone could try to kill him, these days, and he was even willing to forgive them. After all, he was an entirely calm and reasonable person. Most of the time.

Sighing softly, Mercury let the thoughts go and took a bite of his food, then another. He finished it quickly, feeling it fuel his body. <Assimilation> had slowly but surely grown a lot of bio-parts in its storage, and he could, by now, easily swap those in for the bits of him that were made from ice and wood. But he didn’t.

Because, frankly, it was easier to envision him as something puppeteering an almost human body, rather than a proper human. It’d been too long since he was that. And, frankly, while he had happy memories, he also felt powerless as one. 

This was more like him. Divorcing himself from that powerless past, and finding freedom. Yes, he left behind a few precious things, like his fond memories, but he was still himself. And the distance from who he was gave him distance from his scars. 

Taking a deep breath, he turned to Mira, just as her mouth opened to speak. “No, I’m not teaching you anything,” he said calmly, and saw her face twist in a frown. “No, I won’t send you home. You’re free to follow me around. But I won’t be super considerate of you. So, uh, don’t get stranded in the wilderness and starve.”

At that, she huffed. “I am still a cultivator, you know?” she asked. Instantly, the bar erupted in more whispers. It was obvious, but hearing someone’s apprenticeship being denied so obviously was a curious thing. “I won’t starve. I’ll keep up. I won’t slow you down.”

Mercury waved a hand with a soft sigh. “Do as you want,” he said. Then, he turned to his food and ate. And then, he asked the owner of the establishment if they knew where the Skyflame Monks lived. Of course, he didn’t receive an answer. He didn’t expect one from a roadside inn like this one, but he left it be. 

Instead, he just thanked the old woman, gave her a coin as a token of thanks, and asked if she needed any repairs done in exchange for a room for the night. An exchange was swiftly brokered - she had a centuries old baking dish made from cold iron, to make sure that all the heat went to the food and it was easy to serve.

Coincidentally, Mercury had enough to spare of the material to fix her tray easily, and with a priceless heirloom restored, she was happy to let him stay as long as he wanted to. With room and board secured, Mercury did what he did best: he went to bed.

It was just approaching the morning hours, and frankly, that meant he was uninterested in being awake. Sighing softly, he took off his veil, and placed the head to rest on a chair. Zyl smiled and softly caressed his face, as they pulled down the curtains to block out the sun. It had a habit of burning Mercury these days, so he was becoming a bit of a night-owl.

Not that he did nothing during the day. Even when he slept, it was usually only part of his mind. He rested passively, and as his mind blossomed, that wouldn’t even be necessary anymore. Instead, Mercury spent his time… meditating.

It wasn’t properly meditating, not really, but he was thinking. He’d change his position, hang upside down from chairs, do handstands, pace across the room, and twist and turn in bed, but he’d think. On… everything, really. All the things that he knew, that he understood about the world. About what made it all come together. 

So many thoughts swirled about his head these days. About people, about elements. He understood grass, he’d healed some scars in this world, he’d grown strong, and there was reason to grow stronger still. But he wanted more strength, too. Because in this world, strength was freedom, and there was more that he wanted to see.

Until now, the east had been fun to explore. He was really hoping to find more hidden monsters - but he was sure it would come in due time. They must have interesting experiences, after all. That was the most neat part of the journey until now. Seeing just hoe people lived here.

What everyone valued. With how much abandon they threw themselves at their passions, be they mortals or cultivators. They fought over scraps of honor, duelled to the death over an insult. They’d toss their family and run after a stranger for only the potential of stealing an insight. They fought over noodles and family legacy and pride.

And they lived.

It was what he respected most. They lived. All of them were so very invested in chasing their own pride, their own happiness. To have an achievement that generations would look back on. Legacy, Mercury supposed, was big here. 

Sighing softly, he asked the <Wind> to carry him up, then used his <Ancient Shadowweaving> to glue himself to the ceiling, laying on it as if it was the floor. And he wondered. What was legacy to him? Did he care if he was remembered? By whom? Did he want… kids?

That answer at least came easily enough - no. He didn’t want kids. He was happy living his own life. He wanted freedom above anything, and that mattered. If he wanted to abandon people, he would. Kids didn’t deserve that kind of fate. It was selfish, but Mercury could accept being a little bit selfish. Independence was important to him.

So, did he care about legacy?

Again, he found that the answer was no. His life was his own. If people forgot, then he would let them forget. He lived for his own joy, his own desires, to see things he wanted to see, and help people he wanted to help. At heart, Mercury thought that life was beautiful. That there should be more of it, and less of death. And realizing that was, in a way, his legacy.

But he wasn’t doing it to be remembered by whom he saved, or what he changed. He did it because it made people smile. Because he could. Because the problems were in his path, and seeing people sad was annoying. It got on his nerves when someone complained or fucked up their life, so he fixed it where he could.

Ah, he’d drifted off. Smiling softly, Mercury dropped from the ceiling. For a moment, his robe sprouted wings, dampening the noise of his fall to a whisper. Zyl was still sleeping, after all. And the dragon was a rather light sleeper. Sometimes, when Mercury wanted to do something more loud, he’d don the Stifled Silence, just to not bother his boyfriend.

What was more fun than using unique magical artefacts for mundane purposes?

Mercury lingered on that thought for a while. The difference between what was magical and what was mundane… it was kind of thin, wasn’t it? In a lot of ways, it was funny to imagine, but he had used a lot of his magic as almost disability aids.

Telekinesis because he lacked hands. Shapeshifting to be less obvious in a crowd, like a transplant. The Stifled Silence to get a good night’s sleep. Eating-related Skills just so he could enjoy spices again. So much of his build was dedicated to just letting him go places, understand things.

Was that really the truth of magic? That it was… what exactly?

He laid on the floor, crossing his arms behind his head, thinking it over while listening to Zyl’s breathing. What was magic? Like, the very essence of it. At its core. 

There was no good, instant answer, so Mercury went the opposite route. Stripping things away. 

Did something need to be powerful to be magical? Not particularly. Did it need to be flashy? No. Did it need to make people happy? No. It didn’t need to be spectacular or big. It didn’t even need to break the laws of the world. Magic was in quiet moments, in happiness, in someone doing more than they could do before.

Was magic growth, then? 

No, he didn’t think so. Growth was too personal to be magic. It was linked, in a way, but not the same. So what was it? What, exactly, was magic? 

Was his rigorous understanding of mana and transmuting it into ice “magic”? The system clearly labelled it as such. But then, was his vibe-based understanding of metal or grass not magic? Was it not magic to ask the wind to carry him upwards, to weave his own shadows?

No, that was magic, too. Maybe that was it, then. That magic was wonderful. And that magic was mundane.

It was a contradiction, but that was okay. Mundane things could be wonderful, and in this world, there was magic everywhere. There was magic in how he walked, how he talked, how he grabbed things, how the wind moved, how the grass reacted. It was, all of it, magic.

And that was kind of cool.

[You have acquired the Ability <Magic (lowest)> through fusion. Fused Skills and Abilities:  <Ancient Shadowweaving (medium)>, <Fire (medium)>, <Grass (high)>, <Ice Magic lv. 7>, <Metal (lowest)>, <Stone (lowest)>, <Water (low)>, <Wind (low)>]

He blinked at it, then summoned the Stifled Silence, and then he laughed. 

<Magic>. Just magic. A single ability for all of it, apparently. For all of his understandings of the most mundane and structured things of the words. Of all the “elements”. He laughed, in the domain of silence, letting Zyl get his rest, and he stared at the ceiling.

Mercury spent the rest of the day with a big grin on his face. The moment was, pun fully intended, magical. So he let it linger.

- - -

“Really? Just <Magic>?” Zyl asked with a snicker. “That’s a little simplified.”

“You’re just jealous, cuz all your fire-resistance Skills aren’t properly fused,” Mercury teased, sticking his tongue out. It wasn’t particularly visible underneath his veil, but he still did it. They were having breakfast, right now, with Mercury occasionally sneaking bites of the food to his shadow, where Juno greedily devoured it. 

Mira shot his shadow worried looks for a second, until she caught a glimpse of the grey wolf-head. Then, she made a very concerted effort to not step into Mercury’s shadow at all. He shook his head at her antics. Juno was entirely sweet and kindhearted. Right? Right.

She’d only asked if he wanted their… “burden” removed about three or four times. And she’d stopped asking when he’d told her to! Like him, she too was a polite and reasonable person.

“Where are we heading next?” Zyl asked, between bites of food.

Mercury thought for a second, then decided to make use of the resources at his disposal. “Mira, where is the nearest most powerful sect you can imagine?” he asked.

The girl turned at having her name called, and gave a weak smile. “Well,” she said. “This is the border territory between the Cult of the Infernal Flame and the Burning Bull sect. Though, in this comparison, I’d say the Cult is more powerful,” she explained neutrally. “Of course, the Cult is full of murderers and cutthroats. So, we should be wary of them when visiting the Burning Bull sect.”

“Splendid,” Mercury said with a smile. “We’ll set off for the Cult of the Infernal Flame come nightfall.”

Mira froze, then stared at him. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I-”

“No, no,” he replied, waving his hand. “You heard me right. I’m curious to see how those cults work. The righteous sects have been a bit disappointing, so maybe these ‘evil’ cults will be better.”

“They’re not,” she assured him, pale-faced. “They really, really aren’t.”

Zyl snickered at her response, then gave her a bright grin. “Well. Regardless of whether they are or aren’t, I know my boyfriend. And I think he’s about to make that his problem.”

Mercury smiled happily. “Indeed,” he said. Because, in a way, solving problems was magical, too. And, well, he was curious.