370 - Dangerous Methods Pt. 2 [Sturmblitz]

“You, I, Toza, old Sanger, the mightiest warriors of Borea, the war-orphans forced to scavenge the battlefields, even that Kargarian noblewoman, Arnys Krishorn — we were born as beasts, or else made into beasts in the earliest moments of our lives. Such is our lot,” Kanberich expounded. “Where the likes of Victor possess surpassing talent in certain matters, the only supreme talent afforded to us is our ability to live in violence. Where others must learn it, grip the razor-ember to their chests until it chars them from the inside, perhaps even disfigures them, we few blessed, we few cursed, have possessed the flame of violence throughout our lives, growing alongside it. My flame rages against dragonkind. Yours is your own, born of your violent nature, a natural urge to claim supremacy over beasts, or perhaps the urge for retribution, I do not know — but in fundamental nature, they are alike. The boy was given the dubious fortune of a noble upbringing, so his innermost flame fundamentally differs from yours or mine. Imagine, how it would rip your apart if you found yourself utterly incapable of putting down a wretched beast? If you just had to watch such a thing walk away with its victims in tow?”

Certain things clicked into place in Zel’s head. She had been aware for some time that she couldn’t truly consider herself the same as the rest of mankind. Physicality aside, she didn’t think like them, but she had never thought this abnormality to be aberrant. In her mind it was just the lot of all cultivators. Only now had Kanberich truly driven home that, even among cultivators, the likes of him or Zelsys were another step removed. Moreover, she had to stop herself from staring off into space. She had, after all, had let the most wretched of beasts just run away. Von Wickten. Zel couldn’t imagine what he was doing, what iniquities he had perpetrated in the time since his retreat at the gate-cathedral. Not even the faintest hint of his existence had made itself known to her, not even with the Bureau on constant lookout for him. Zelsys wondered if Alcerys thought the same of Cao Hu, who similarly made his escape in the wake of the Rigport Incident.

Far away, in the midst of an abandoned church of the Grekurian Orthodoxy, Alcerys sat, ruminating. Somehow, out of nowhere, the inquisitor’s thoughts drifted to him. To the one who got away. Cao Hu, the Curse-eating General. Gall rose in her throat and burned at the back of her tongue at the thought that pus of humanity was still out there, of the iniquities he must be perpetrating at the emperor’s command. To her side, a figure clad in monolithic armor knelt, wearing a masked helmet with a crown of thorns upon its brow. Countless daggers rested within the armored man’s body, sunk into the gaps of his armor, ribbons of sacred scripture trailing from them. Alcerys wondered if Zelsys thought the same of Von Wickten — she knew that he yet lived as a silver-armored impurity elemental for one simple reason: Zelsys had personally gotten in touch, warning her of his existence, so that she may hunt him down if the opportunity presented itself in the same manner Zelsys would hunt down Cao Hu under the same circumstances.

Zel’s racing thoughts ceased as Kanberich continued, taking her reaction for the tacit answer it was. Strangely, at that same instant, the man who was a sheath to a hundred knives also spoke, similarly taking Alcerys’ silence for a response to a question he had posed to her moments before.

“Even if he possessed the ability to simply snap himself out of it, the boy is too far into shock to think of doing that. I’ve seen many fall to a foe they could’ve felled just because they were too terrified to swing, too caught up in their own thoughts. To add onto the fact he is not a beast like you or I, his elevated mental capacity renders him ever more vulnerable to becoming lost in his own thoughts.”

“The enantiomorph must have skewed the mental balance too far towards his Thinking Self. He already had a predilection towards the Lunar, so it’s not so surprising…” Zel thought aloud. Sighing, she shook her head, disappointed in herself. “I should’ve noticed it sooner, all the clues were right there in front of me.”

“He will come back into balance, in time. With the necessary information out of the way — you have questions, I can tell. Ask.”

“What’s the catch with your method?” Zelsys asked. She knew that Kanberich had expected this question, and so decided to get it out of the way. 

“I mentioned earlier the trio of Quick, Safe, and Easy. My method is possibly one of the most potent, that is to say, the fastest, but also one of the least safe, and the most difficult. Precautions can be taken to make it safer, but there is no making the Dragonslayer’s Ordeal easier. If you do not already possess the strength of will and spirit to bend dragonfire to your will, the Dragonslayer Flame will take root and consume you from within. It might just kill you, but at worst, the result is rapid transformation into a monstrous half-dragon descendant, possessing both the strength of dragons and the unbounded savagery of the human Primordial Self. Loss of self-control, inability to do aught but watch from behind your own eyes, perhaps call out in warning as your body goes berserk…” Kanberich spoke. His tone became grave, clearly recounting a real incident. Zel had never once encountered any record of anyone practicing a method like Kanberich’s, so she wondered if his earlier implication that it might only be suitable for him had a direct basis in reality. His following words dispelled this guess.

“Mass slaughter and death for the practitioner soon follow, usually at the hands of other dragonslayers. After this point, there is still hope, as with assistance one can bring the flame partially under control, retaining sense of self and only gradually transforming into a monstrous dragon-man. You must be thinking why I would place him in such risk when he is in such a vulnerable state, but at my age, I have a touch more experience with these things than you do. I created the method, after all. This “Walking Way of the Despot of Self” only reinforces my belief that he will weather the tribulation. My main concern is the comparative magnitude of his dragonstain with his soul, how deeply buried it sits, how stagnant and thinly-stretched it is. I have never encountered such a thing, as none of those who inherited my art were wizards, or whatever the true cause for his soul’s disproportionate size might be. If I were to guess, the Ordeal might go on for an excessively long time, or his Dragonslayer Flame might be too weak to be of use at first.”

The tone with which Kanberich said those the last third wasn’t entirely serious. Zelsys had no issue reading between the lines. Nobody in the sect had laid claim to the Lesser Dragonheart Bolus, with the alchemists too caught up in producing the True Dragonheart Bolus and other disciples not daring to disturb them. So, Zelsys decided it would be put to use in this manner.

“Blood aside, I can bring something more refined. Take me back to the city.”