Chapter 271: Travelling Rocks

Chapter 271: Travelling Rocks

Mercury liked being back on the road. There was just a particular kind of magic to it all. The way that civilization faded and broke away just a few hundred steps out. The way that roads wore away into thin paths maintained only by the steps of those who occasionally crossed them. Seeing things that were so remarkably… untouched. 

Nature was wonderful. This entire world, Chronagen, was something Mercury found dear to him. There was a certain wonder to it, to not knowing what was around another corner.

Oh, sure, he could simply spread his mind wide. He could use the perception-aspect of <Unravel> to see hundreds of meters ahead and around himself. To spot every nook, every cranny, every secret in an instant, or have Appy whisper them all to him. But it was far, far more fun to simply walk.

<Itinerant> was a funny Skill, in that way. After all, it let him travel incredibly quickly if he wanted to. In a way, it would let him skip the entire journey - arrive at his goal with just a step or three. But there was a different aspect to it, too.

The Skill, the evolution itself, was born from the fact that Mercury loved travelling. That he wanted to see the world. So, it was designed to take him further, to let him go wherever, to break boundaries, yes. But it was also designed to let him take it all in. To very gently bend the path and make sure it took him to those spectacuclar sights.

It was funny seeing it in action though. Footpaths writhed and rippled when he stepped forward, adjusting ever so slightly to avoid a particularly pretty patch of flowers. To highlight a grove in the middle of a forest, to take him just a little higher on a mountain ridge so he could enjoy the view.

“Is this meant to be so easy?” Zyl asked once, on their third night of walking.

They’d taken to walking in the night, since risking sun exposure wasn’t exactly fun for Mercury. Oh, sure, he could walk with a parasol, and he absolutely was planning to - it would be incredibly stylish, after all - but for now, less sun exposure probably meant less chances to get cooked later.

He smiled, gently, and nodded. “It is,” he said. 

“And to be so pretty?” Zyl asked, looking into the night. The light bounced off his dragon-eyes, making them glint faintly as he looked forward, slitted pupils piercing the dark and unravelling the sights.

“It is,” Mercury repeated with a brighter smile. “Here, let me show you,” he then said, taking Zyl’s hand in his own. That still felt strange, but he also loved it - to simply hold the dragon’s hand. And then, Mercury stepped off the cliff they’d been on.

Zyl followed a moment later. The two fell, air rapidly rushing them by, and Mercury closed his eyes. He felt the wind pull at his hair, his storm-suit billowing as he soared, but at the same time, he felt space twist and turn. <Itinerant> was still active, pulling at this new thread, at this purpose of the journey, of sightseeing.

And it pulled them away from the cliff. Their bodies didn’t shatter violently upon a jagged row of rocks. Instead, they fell into the canopy below, caught by soft leaves, bending and breaking a few branches before falling down into a clearing, carpeted with foliage.

The ground was soft against them. Even granite would break before either of the two got hurt, but it was still nice to land on spongy earth. Mercury promptly got up, dusted himself off, and took a look around, finding that they stood near a pond. A pond that glittered with starlight.

For a moment, Zyl groaned slightly as he got up, holding his head with a sigh. “Come on, there’s no way you got something to show me he- Oh.” He cut himself off as he took the time to look, his breath hitching. The pond glittered under the stars. Fireflies faintly danced through the air above it, sending glittering reflections across the waves.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Mercury hummed, kneeling down next to the lake, reaching his hand in. It glowed more strongly at the ripples, a faint glow trailing the movements he made. 

Zyl sighed, then kneeled down next to the mopaaw, letting his arms rest on his knees as he stared at the pond. “Yes, it is,” he admitted. His words were slightly begrudging, but his lips carried an easy smile. 

Something floated to the top of the lake. They were called starlings - tiny pinpricks of light that hatched into almost fireflies, except they glowed a pale white-blue and were a bit bigger. More like dragonflies really. 

Mercury watched them fly over, keeping a small barrier of <Rainfall> around himself to make sure none of the insects touched him, gently keeping them away. Would he enjoy travelling if he had to deal with all the dirt and grime of it? Probably less.

Right now, he could simply have anything he didn’t want touching him disappear. He had a multitude of Skills to make it all happen, to interact with the world and make the journey pleasant. To see wonderful, breathtaking sights, without any of the trouble. Hecc, he could probably watch a star explode and recover from the radiation without too much trouble.

Actually, now that he thought about it, a little test with a nuke was starting to sound interesting again. By now, he’d give himself rather good odds…

With a small sigh, he shook his head, waving away those thoughts. No need for that. Instead, he spent a few more minutes watching the congregations of newly minted magical insects take to the skies. Then, the glow from the lake subsided, and it turned as clear as a mirror.

In fact, it turned into solid glass. Mercury had to use <Material Transmutation> to take his hand out without shattering it, quickly turning the surface liquid, and then solid again once he was done. Then, he and Zyl got up, and walked some more

- - -

Travelling on foot was meant to be a long ordeal. Really, they could have flown or teleported there and it would have been far faster, but Mercury didn’t really see any need to hurry. Still, <Itinerant> did cut through the duration of the journey. It made it so that they didn’t skip anything, of course, and even probably condensed the fun events, but it did skip much of the drudgery along main roads.

Mercury mostly avoided those, though, occasionally his Skill led them there. Each time was for a specific event, though, and rarely did it feel pointless. Once, he repaired a merchant’s wagon, shaping a new wheel from a nearby tree to replace the broken one, getting a small chest of delicious fruit as thanks. Another time, there was a camp of freezing travellers who’d run out of firemaking supplies - a problem Zyl handily solved for them, and they shared stories and food afterwards.

Now, once again, Mercury emerged from a dense bit of forest onto the main road. A wide path, laid with stones, long tread into the dirt. The weeds there were struggling for their life, trampled underfoot each day, but they fought a valiant fight. At this moment, though, they were receiving a good bit of nutrition.

Blood dripped from a man’s open side. He held the gash with a grimace, a brigand with a balding hat and a greasy ponytail sneering at the guy. The guy was walking with a heavy pack, which was set aside on the ground, and an empty sword-sheath hung at his belt.

“See, this is what you get for not paying the toll, bastard,” the brigand said, leaning his sword on his shoulder with a grin. “This is territory of Jean Rocksplitter, don’t’cha knooow~?”

“You bastards,” the man ground out, panting as blood stained his night-blue robes. He had short, dark hair, and hazel eyes, as well as a slim nose. “I will never pay the tithe of bloodmongers like you,” he spat.

“Heeeeh?” the bandit hummed in thought, turning to his burly companion. “What do you think then, Brocky? Shall we pick it off his corpse?”

The hulking man with a distinctly spiky hairstyle nodded solemnly. “Smash his bones, grab his stuff.”

Mercury walked up to the bleeding man and squatted down next to the wound, staring at it. “Nasty gash you got there,” he said, eyeing the cut. “You should lay down. I’ll stitch you back up.” With a swift mental command, he summoned his log, which didn’t look very special, but was in fact packed full of supplies.

After all, <Medicine> had maxed out and then been absorbed into <Unravel>, being boosted with all the potency of a high-power Skill. Mercury was a reasonably competent medic these days, and he could probably even extend <Shift> to others. Not that he’d tried much.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Ponytail said, as he walked up, pointing his sword at Mercury in a lazy, aloof motion. “White robe… black pants… ey, unc, what sect are you from?”

“... Unc?” Mercury hummed curiously. He smiled gently at the title, then shook his head. “No, only my niece gets to call me that. Pick a different term,” he said gently, then pulled out a needle and thread. “Lay down,” he repeated to the hurt man.

At that, Ponytail frowned. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said, leaning in. “Maybe you don’t know how things work here, but y’see, this is-”

Zyl sighed, appearing between them, making the bandit flinch back for a moment. “Rockbreaker territory, yes, yes. I take it you’re Jean?” the dragon asked, crossing his arms.

Ponytail took a single step back, eyeing Zyl’s feet as if trying to figure something out. “Phantom step…?” he muttered. “No, it can’t be,” he shook his head. “And I’m not Jean. Rockbreaker’s the boss, see. I’m Lucky and my friend here is Brock. We’re members of the band. So pay up, or we’ll call the boss in to smash your skulls.”

The dragon tilted his head. “Really? Smash my skull?”

“Like watermelon,” Brock nodded solemnly, motioning an explosion with his hand. “Splat,” he intoned helpfully.

It brought a wily smile to Zyl’s lips, even as Mercury finally managed to get the traveller to lay down. The man was still looking on with a confused expression, but when Mercury’s needle passed into his flesh, he felt no pain. It was as if the discomfort was washed away, as if his pain had all been a falsehood… a <Lie>.

The person who looked not quite human smiled gently at the wounded traveller. “There,” he said kindly. “All patched up. Your skin is mended, but your flesh needs to recuperate. Give it a few days, then do regular stretches for a week or three to properly rehabilitate your motion. In about two weeks, you should be almost good as new,” he said.

Blinking rapidly at the change of pace, the once-wounded man moved to kneel. “Thank you, saviour!” he said swiftly, trying to press his head to the ground. “How can this unworthy one-!”

“Now now, none of that,” Mercury chided gently. Again, the traveller blinked, as an invisible force wrapped around him, placed him back on his feet, and Mercury gently brushed the dirt off his robes. “Haven’t learned much sewing yet, so can’t do much for your outfit, sorry,” he said calmly.

A million thoughts ran through the healed man’s head. The invisible force… it meant that this man was at least a gilded-level cultivator! And the phantom step of his companion, that was a polished-level technique! These two were cultivators, and powerful ones at that.

Ponytail, meanwhile, seemed to not quite make that same assumption. He simply sneered. “Oi, oi,” he said. “You’re not getting off that easy. Show us some face, will you? We maintain the roads here, y’know? Make sure things go nice ‘n clean, travellers get through…”

“Bullshit!” the man in blue yelled. “You butcher caravans! Every year, the road grows more dilapidated and the toll higher! I’ve seen what you’ve done to the merchants.”

The bandit’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Huuuh? Got a problem with our tithe? What, men can’t make an honorable living as a patrol anymore?”

Mercury got up, looked at the two bandits, and gave them a light smile. “You two are strong, young men, yes?” he said with a smile.

“Huh? Are you talking, old bag? Sorry, I can’t hear your grating voice over this wind,” he said, looking at the sky.

“Oh, really now? Well, I don’t mind repeating myself,” Mercury said graciously, clasping his hands behind his back. “You two are strong, young men,” he repeated, giving a gentle smile. Then, his features pulled a little tighter. “So, why don’t you go and make something proper out of yourself, hm? Robbing people like this is for cowards and weaklings. You could be building houses instead of stabbing some random sods on the road.”

Lucky frowned deeply, and elbowed Brock in response. “Hey, big bud. Let’s teach that old man a lesson, huh? Thinks he’s so much better than us. Let’s show him what we got,” he said, grinning grimly, slowly levelling his sword at Mercury.

With a grunt, Brock smacked his fists together, producing a loud clang. His hands were covered in steel gauntlets, and he took a single, slow, menacing step forward. Then, Lucky stomped the ground.

Instantly, the rocks beneath Mercury rose to envelop his feet, tendrils of stone weaving around him, holding him in place. Half a breath later, Brock was upon him, Zyl’s eyes following his movement with faint amusement. The big lug dashed, far faster than his size implied, and smashed a hook right into Mercury’s face.

Mercury’s face, which was made from magical wood, enhanced by his vitality stat, and by <Tempered Body>.

There was a resounding clang, the noise of metal striking against metal, and a humming noise that could only come from lasting vibrations. The bandit’s fist remained against Mercury’s face for a moment… then the gauntlet shook. And crumbled.

Flakes of iron fell off Brock’s hand, slowly tumbling to the floor. The road was silent except from the slow chittering of the falling debris. Then, the bandit howled in pain. His knees buckled, as his broken knuckles revealed themselves, utterly shattered from the force of the blow.

“Ah, sorry,” Mercury said. “I’ve been told I’m a bit hardheaded. Here, let me see that,” he said gently, casting <Shift> again. 

The pain lasted for a breath longer, then sloughed off him like dirt in a rainstorm. Brock just kind of stared at his hand blankly as the pain subsided, and the bones beneath his skin shifted a little. Fragments reassembled themselves, and muscles knit together, all flowing to their proper place.

Mercury hummed in displeasure. “You’ll still need to let it heal,” he said thoughtfully. “I’d recommend wearing a splint or a brace, if you can find one. Go to a real healer, get someone to mend you. Don’t move your hand, or it’ll all fall out of alignment again. You’re tough, so you’ll be fine.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Lucky demanded, more guarded now. The bandit grit his teeth, holding his sword out in front of him, sweat dripping from his brow. He seemed a little terrified now. “What did you do to him?!”

Tilting his head, Mercury replied simply. “I set his bones. He fractured his knuckles on my face.”

More blood drained from Lucky’s face at that. “... Huh?” he asked, quietly, shellshocked. 

“Put that toothpick aside, now,” Zyl said and reached out very gently, closed his hand around the blade of the sword, and then squeezed. The steel bent, then shattered in his grip, not even splitting his skin. “And stop calling my boyfriend old. He’s just got silver hair, not greying.”

In comparison, Lucky’s rat-brown hair was rapidly turning greyer as time went on. The fear was aging him quickly. “Brock…” he whispered, stepping forward, then back again, as if stuck in a quagmire. Then he watched as Mercury easily pulled his feet free from the literal stone wrapped around them, in a motion as casual as standing up from a chair.

He stretched his arms above his back, letting out a small yawn. “Hey, hey. You gonna call your boss?” he asked.

Lucky paled some more, then hastily swallowed, and nodded grimly. Hopefully, the boss would be able to salvage it… With a quick motion, he pulled a paper talisman. A quick injection of qi set it on fire, sending out a signal flare.

Mercury only had to wait half a minute until a woman stomped from the treeline - massive and built like a semitruck. She had wild, brown-grey hair, and a long scar reaching from her forehead down to her shoulder, wore ragged, torn red-brown robes, and dragged a giant stone club behind her, leaving a furrow in the ground as she lumbered over.

“Lucky,” she growled, eyeing Zyl, Mercury, and the recently injured traveller. “This better have a good reason, or I’ll bash your skull in.” Her voice came out calm and measured, but her glare was anything but.

“Y-yes boss!” the bandit stuttered hastily. “Somehow, the old man laid out Brock without touching him!”

“Huuuuh?” Jean asked, eyeing Mercury once more, looking him up and down. “He ain’t old, moron. Just a year or two on me. Is it just the hair?” she asked.

“Probably just the hair, yes,” Mercury nodded calmly.

“Mmmh. The silver-white does look old, I guess. But you got no folds on you, and you don’t talk like a geezer. How’d you hurt my boys?” she asked, lugging the club onto her shoulder.

Mercury smiled politely. “He punched my face and broke his hand. I put it back together for him,” he said.

“No fecking way,” she sneered. “Those gloves are made from moonsteel, folded three hundred times. They wouldn’t shatter against flesh. You some kind of body cultivator?” she asked. “Nah, you don’t look the type. Too scrawny. See, I cultivate these muscles,” she said with a grin, “and so, I intend to use ‘em. Hand over the tithe, double for any damages done, and we’ll part way in good faith.”

“And if I don’t?” Mercury asked, tilting his head again and shooting the lady a curious look.

“I’ll smash ya head in,” Jean said with a wild grin, showing rows or sharp teeth. “Cave it in like a boulder.”

The traveller swallowed heavily, pulling at Mercury’s sleeve. “Saviour,” he hissed urgently, “please, let’s just pay the tithe. Jean is not known for mercy…”

With a quick motion, Mercury dislodged the man’s hand, stepping forward, still keeping his posture upright and calm. “Go ahead then,” he taunted calmly. “Smash my head in.”

Jean rubbed her face for a moment, giving a long sigh. “Haaaah. Cocky bastards like you are the saddest. You always act like hot shit, then break like the rest. Whelp, I got a reputation to uphold, y’see. Nothing personal. Let me give you a pretty blood splatter, at least,” she said calmly, then vanished, phantom-stepping forward.

A blink later she was in front of Mercury, already in motion. The giant hunk of stone she generously called a club was swinging towards him, rapidly accelerating with all the certainty of a falling mountain, ready to reduce his entire body to a bloody smear on the ground.

And then he looked.

Time slowed down to a crawl, almost stopping as Mercury delved into his own mind. His perception sped up to an ungodly degree, the world freezing around him. He couldn’t move, of course, but he didn’t need to.

All he needed to do was to know. To see and to understand. So, he sunk into ihn’ar. He let his sight encompass the club in its totality. He drew a million links in a moment, following threads on the tapestry. He knew it should be possible to pull it off, so it worked.

Before now, Mercury had manipulated stone. <Grass> and <Metal> both allowed him some dominion over it, but he wanted more than that. He wanted more. So he looked at the stone, the solidity it exuded, the veins in it, the brittleness. Monolithic, unchanging, eroding, settling, recombining. It was ancient and new, housing history in veins of calcified time.

A minute passed, then two as he stared, the woman in front of him barely moving. Her club was approaching him in slow motion, drawing an arc through the air that was almost beautiful, her qi threading through the weapon, holding it together.

In the end, that was what he spotted, the weak point and strength he saw. She was empowering the rock to make it hold, or it would break, because it was too brittle. It needed support, veins of flexible, reinforcing power. Because rocks didn’t like to bend, most of the time. They were solid, unchanging… and a little bit like his annoying old boss at work.

He smiled a little at the thought. Rock was like stubborn old people, then? Was that his conclusion? If so, he knew how to talk to them, how to make requests. If that was how rocks ticked… he could handle them.

[The individual has acquired the ability <Stone (lowest)> through a specific action.]

[<Perceived Ease> has levelled up! <Perceived Ease lv. 4 -> 5>]

Immediately, time resumed. Mercury’s mind settled, his eyes lost that depth of madness, he resurfaced from his delve into ihn’ar. But he looked at the stone coming his way. Almost lazily, he whispered his request. “Break,” Mercury said.

And the stone shattered. 

Violently, horribly, the block of rock that had threatened to squash his head in exploded into a million tiny shards. They shot outwards like shrapnel from a grenade, cutting thin lines of blood into Jean’s skin. They dug into the grass, skidded off the pathway, and a handful embedded themselves into the traveller’s pack.

The bandit howled as she completed her swing, clearly expecting the impact. She grinned, even gave a laugh, as if her swing had been what shattered the club. She looked at the handle, still clasped in her hand. “Don’t call me rockbreaker for nothing,” she said with a grin. “Shame about the guy. ‘S what happens to arrogant bastards, I s’pose.”

“I’m very much alive,” Mercury noted, drawing her eyes to him.

“Huh?” Jean said, looking at him. She paused for a second, drawing in a sharp breath, then blinked, and even rubbed her eyes as if to clear her vision. Then, she looked at her shattered club. Then back to Mercury. “... huh?” she repeated, blood draining from her face.

“You must have missed,” he said gently, giving her a patient smile. “Wanna try again?”

Jean blinked, then very, very slowly shook her head. “No, sir,” she said placidly.

Mercury scratched his beard a little, and even that small motion made her flinch. “Right, right,” he said. “You use stone qi, then, Ms. Rockbreaker?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

“Hmmmmm,” he hummed, eyeing the bandits. Lucky and Brock stood with their mouth agape, legs trembling in fear, Zyl holding both men upright by their shoulders with a smug smile. The nameless traveller hid behind his pack, shell-shocked. Mercury simply smiled. “Well, then, Jean. Would you be so kind as to guide us to the nearest town? You must know these roads quite well.”

Instantly, the bandit stood at attention, giving a martial salute. “Yes, sir!” she said, the words coming as naturally as lightning.

With a faint smile, Mercury nodded. “Right then. And while there, we’ll get you and the rest of your band signed up for a construction company. You brats stand to make an honorable living yet. Don’t throw your lives away for a quick buck.”

“... Yes, sir,” Jean said, gritting her teeth slightly.

“But, boss-” Lucky started for all of a moment, before Jean shot him a glare that could have killed. He shut his mouth a moment later, and Zyl gently pushed the two men onward.

“Let’s go then,” the dragon said chipperly. “Lead the way, ma’am.”

Jean swallowed heavily, but simply nodded, quickly stepping out in front of them and walking further down the path. In the meantime, Zyl picked up the traveller’s pack, easily slinging it around his shoulders, as if the taller-than-human stack of merchandise weighed as much as a feather. 

In doing so, of course, he revealed the cowering traveller kneeling behind it, his blue robes now stained with a bit of dirt, his eyes darting between Mercury and Zyl. The dragon extended a hand to the man. “Come now, let me help you up,” he said. “What’s your name, traveller.”

Quickly, the man scrabbled to his feet without any help, cupping his hands and bowing his head. “This one is called Min, honored saviours!” he said, half-shouting the words. “I thank you very much for your assistance! This one is unworthy!”

Mercury let out a chuckle, patting the man on the back. “Now, now, no need to be so formal,” he said. “I’m Mercury, and my boyfriend with your pack there is Zyl. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Would you like to come with us back to town? We could use a local guide,” he said. 

“Of course, saviours! To repay this debt-”

Quickly, Zyl waved him off. “Ah, please don’t do that,” the dragon said hastily, giving a glance at Mercury, already looking annoyed. “No need for the saviour-shtick. Or any debt. You’re free to go. Nothing owed.”

At that, the man shivered. He knew what it meant. To these seniors, his life was nothing. They could save it as easily as taking a breath, and snuff it out as easily as a candleflame. He was less than dust to them. He was not even worthy to honor them.

So, yes, his debt was forgiven. Perhaps they would not even remember him, but. But! He was a merchant, damn it! And where there was power, there was opportunity! In his innermost heart, Min fanned those flames of bravery… and desire for wealth. To prove himself in this world, he would follow these old monsters! 

“Of course, saviour Zyl,” he said hastily, being just respectful enough to preserve his own honour, without pushing it further than he thought he could get away with. “Let this humble merchant show you around. A shrewd fox knows the best places in town, after all!” he said, giving a hearty laugh. “Onward we shall go, to Fuchsia City!”

Mercury leaned over to Zyl, already tired. “If he calls me saviour one more time, I might die on the spot,” the mopaaw whispered.

Zyl gently pressed a kiss on the side of his head. “Then, my love, I fear I may have to arrange your funeral. I will mourn you very much.”

At that, his boyfriend gave a snicker. “You dummy. Hopefully we can find some hints in this city.” Then he looked to the sky. “Also, dawn is approaching. Care to hand me my parasol?” 

With a quick flourish, the dragon brought it forth from his inventory, opening the pure-white fabric that hung downwards at the edges like a veil, and handing it to Mercury. “We should get you a hat, too,” he suggested.

“A hat!” Min chimed in. “Yes, I know a hatter. My cousin’s wife, in fact, runs a hattery in Fuchsia City! You see-”

And, suddenly having found the breath of life within him at the mundaneity of walking, Min talked. Mercury, despite himself, smiled just a little, looking at the horizon. A new place to see… he expected it might be fun. He ought to pay Daryel a visit, too. And, of course, he was excited to see what magic awaited him there.

So much to see. “Onto Fuchsia City, then,” he said, under his breath.