Magic Breaker Ch 103-105 (Patreon)

Chapter 103: Back Up

[Epitaph: Hunter’s Heart (Heart)

You breathe in, you smell blood

You grin, you kill, a flower buds.]

I look at the epitaph. The little poem, generally, should tell me what it is about, and I think I can tell. This would probably increase the sensitivity of my smell, and my tracking ability, while letting me grow… some sort of flower from the corpses of things I kill? Probably a healing flower, since it’s heart-aligned.

That’s decent, but I generally don’t need healing after a fight is over. That’s when I have plenty of mana to spare, after all. I can already feel more and more trickling into my vessel. Plus, while my sword is constantly disintegrating, it will also last for at least another hour or so by itself. 

In that time, I can use it to steal mana from other living things. Like, say, by stabbing trees. The Earthmother might not exactly be thrilled at that, but as long as I prove I’m strong enough, it should be fine. So, I turn down the Epitaph. It minimizes, but there’s another notification letting me know I can accept it anytime. Which is nice. Now I just need to find the others from the group again.

Or so I think, until there’s a soft brush of mana on my skin. A moment later, the air pops, and Opal appears next to me. Their clothes are stained with blood, and their sword is positively drenched in it, but still, they smile at me. “Yo, Snow. Ready to go back up?”

I look at them for a long moment. “Are the others allowed to?”

Their smile widens. “No one got that big a challenge, y’know? Well, Jess did, of course, but we pitched in. Înu’s a bit hurt, but she’s tough. We’re set.”

Slowly, I shake my head. “You were done earlier, weren’t you?”

“Yep,” they admit instantly. “Just waiting for you.”

“And you decided not to ‘pitch in’ for me?” I ask.

Opal grins, brightly. “Nope!” they say. “You had it handled, after all.” 

I did. It was handled. Again, my eyes flicker to the disintegrating corpse. I pluck one of the flowers from its eye, infusing it with a breath of mana that marks it as mine. The tower won’t consume it, that way.

Then, I turn to opal. “Alright. Let’s head back up.”

- - -

Our first expedition was a reasonable success. We went there to gain levels, and we did, to a reasonable degree. Jess grew a lot, since her fire was very effective against the forest. It would have done less, but I helped it out.

Bile is hiding down there, still. He didn’t come up with us, but he did give us a spot where we could exchange messages. Some kind of dead-drop type thing. This expedition was chaotic, but if we really want to ascend, then we need to be more methodical in how we do things.

That, or we need to get more magic items. If everyone had cloaks like the one I made for Norman, hiding our presences and actions… that’d be nice, but it would also take me months to make. 

No, instead of the cloaks, we should just adjust our strategy a bit to be more targeted. If we caused less widespread destruction, there wouldn’t be any large monsters. At worst, we’d meet one of the apex predators.

But it would be less likely than if we burned down so much.

Frankly, we’d gotten lucky that the snyder and the avatars were what we met. Well, maybe not lucky. The tower does, generally, try to keep challenges difficult but adequate. After all, being crushed by someone far more powerful than you is hardly a learning experience.

Now, that does not mean that this is the case everywhere, but the Earthmother also is a fairness-enjoyer, so it hold largely true on this floor. Which is amusing, considering it is one of the most lethal places in the tower.

According to what we’ve head and read in a few guidebooks on this floor, many, many climbers die in the undergrowth. Finding a path back upwards can be hard, especially if the forest does not want you to find one. We are reasonably high level for this floor, but if someone just barely made the requirement before heading up, coming face to face with things in their forties could be very lethal.

Thatch seems to like it though. Not as much as Sylves, of course, but then again, this is the kind of environment she thrives in. The forest also seems to like her, which is nice.

In comparison, Thatch feels almost… out of place? He’s not super big on forests or nature, usually. But he likes it. He kept picking flowers of different colours, trying to be all sneaky about it. I smile at the thought.

A few of my precious chits were spent on getting him a set of brushes as a gift. I just handed them to him, then walked away as he spluttered. It was pretty funny. What a silly guy.

For now, I sit in my room, working some more on my skill. I’ve mostly deciphered the inscriptions on the cleaning rag that Harry gave me, and stored many of them inside my head. The lattice of information is becoming more elaborate, and each time I add something, I tweak it a little to make sure it’s in place properly. 

A tingle of mana runs across my skin, and I open my eyes. “Come in,” I say, before there’s even a knock at the door.

It creaks open, and Inu walks into my room, alongside Jess. I look at the two of them, saying nothing. My friend gives me a wave, and her mom awkwardly looks aside. It’s kind of funny, seeing Jess be so weird about stuff.

“This isn’t for another training session,” Inu says. “This is me making a very selfish request, Snow.”

She looks at me, and I see worry in her eyes. The knowledge that her request might be pushing it. I tilt my head a little, curious what she wants. I really wanna know. Jess sits at the small table in my room, and I hop off my bed, joining them. The silence is awkward, until Inu forces a crooked grin on her face.

“Snow, this is my mom, Jess,” she says, as if introducing her. “She’s been feeling a bit… overwhelmed with the tower.”

I tilt my head even more. Jess had a rough start, but since then has been perfectly calm about things, hasn’t she? Too calm, almost. I glance at Inu. If it was too calm, she must have noticed.

“This is what I wanna ask of you, Snow. Could you show my mom what kind of person you are?” Inu asks.

She looks at me with a crooked, awkward smile. She knows what she’s asking. I stare at her, unblinking, with a calm face.

[Suppression 16 > 17]

I stare at her. Feeling that cruel nothingness boil inside me. There’s no twitch in my eye, there’s no word that leaves my lips. Jess doesn’t look at me. It’s just Inu. 

[Suppression 17 > 18]

Brutally, I control myself. I reach for my water bottle, the refilling phial, slow and controlled. I flip up the top, and take a sip. Then I very gently place it down on the table. I look at Inu. Then I look at Jess. I look at Inu. Slowly, I take a deep breath. Slowly, I drop the thoughts that bounce in my head.

One by one, everything falls into that deep hole. Every stray impulse discarded and forgotten.

I like Inu lots. So it’s okay. I forgive the unforgivable. I force my lips into a thin smile, and Inu’s face falls at it. She knows. She must know. 

Seconds tick by, and I take another sip of water. Then, gently, I reply. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please,” Inu whispers.

Jess finally meets my eyes. Her gaze is frozen. She smells of ice. I close my eyes for a moment. Then, I ask myself a simple question: What is the kindest thing to do, here? I want to be a kind person, after all.

[Selection 15 > 16]

I look at Jess.

[Selection 16 > 17]

“Okay,” I reply, just as quietly as Inu’s request. She light up, a tiny bit, and smiles. I look at her, with my own blank face, and decide, once again, to try and care about her. And if that means being honest with Jess, then so be it. It’ll be fine. Maybe. Probably. Surely.

Jess looked at me with those icy eyes, and thawed just a tiny bit. She melted like snow in the face of the sun that was her daughter. I watched as she nodded at me. And then, I let Inu connect us and watched her expression shift into fear.

Chapter 104: Empathy

A soft sigh leaves my lips. 

Being honest is so hard. But I do it. Once again, I do it.

I sit in a room with Inu, one of my best friends, and Jess, her mother. And then I just… talk. About the way I interact with people. About why [Suppression] and [Selection] are the skills I started with. About how I try to be a decent person, and treat people with kindness even when that doesn’t align with my thoughts.

How I didn’t kill Vincent despite him making my skin crawl. How not using [Suppression] on my disgust is a kindness to myself. Letting myself dislike things is incredibly important, and something I only learnt later in life. 

And, of course, how I don’t care. How everything in this damn world strikes me as unimportant. I want people and animals live on the simple base that I believe that life itself is something to strive for. Biodiversity is something to strive for. Fairness, too. 

But it’s a decision I make. It’s a decision to respect life itself, and a decision that some people do not deserve that respect. I try not to step on ants. I try not to kill insects. But if someone, say, shoots an arrow at Inu, that human is suddenly worth less than a bug. 

Jess looks at me at the end and the middle. She understands. I can see it in her eyes. The fact that she’s decided that some humans aren’t worthwhile. That some people need to die, because there is not enough infrastructure to let them become better people.

In a perfect world, everyone who hurts another person would be removed from the victim, educated on being a better person, and then respectfully reintegrated into society. But that’s not the world we live in. We live in a magical tower where people are granted superhuman abilities. Where Jess can throw fireballs and I can break people’s bones by simply looking at them right.

We live in a place where beastmasters can manipulate people into doing their bidding.

Where there are Eyes staring at our every failure, every weakness with glee and a desire to exploit it.

A world where the only way to be free is to rise up. Rising without stepping on people, as far as possible, but… I will not hesitate to defend myself or my friends. 

Jess is the same. I recognize it in her cold eyes as she nods along to my story. As her expression thaws and her lips shake slightly. As her eyes fix on me with a mixture of mourning and understanding. With pity. Because, unlike me, Jess is a kind person willing to do the cruel things.

And I’m a cruel person, trying to do the kind things.

She reaches out as if to pat my head, and I slide my chair backwards. Jess looks at me, then at her own hand, and withdraws it. “Sorry,” she says.

“It’s alright,” I reply, slowly. Because it is alright. She did not end up touching me, after all. 

Inu looks at me gratefully, and I can see Jess has thawed somewhat. Not completely, of course. She is a naturally cold person, that much I can tell. She got [Freeze] for a reason, after all. Same with her butchery skills. But, at least most of the magical influence on her personality is slipping away.

“Thank you, Snow,” Jess says, and Inu quickly mirrors it with a nod towards me.

I sigh, softly. “No problem,” I say. Then, I lay my arm on the table and drop my head into the crook of my elbow. “I’m exhausted now. That was my social battery for today.” I wave a hand. “Shoo.”

Inu snickers. “I’m not a cat.”

Even up against my arm, I smile faintly. Then, quickly it fades. Too much talking, for now. “Please,” I say.

And with that, there’s the scraping of a chair. “Of course, Snow,” Inu says. “Thank you again. Talk to you later.”

“Later,” I say.

There’s a moment where I feel Jess’ eyes linger on me, but then she, too, gets up and walks out. It’s good that my story helped Inu’s mom, even just a little. But I can feel the exhaustion in my bones. 

“Kuro, cover my eyes,” I say. Quickly, the shadow expands from the cowl, crawling over my face. It’s not unpleasant. It’s soft and cool and the texture is silky, a little like a sleep mask. I close my eyes underneath it, sinking into the darkness.

The door to my room shuts closed. I take a deep breath. A long, long moment to settle myself. I feel my heartbeat in my chest. Feel the way my vessel pounds against my ribcage. The way my bones creak under the strain. 

With awkward steps, I make my way back over to the bed, grabbing my headphones from the nightstand. They’re still completely out of charge, but that’s okay. I put them on, and muffle the world a little with [Suppression]. Everything quiets down. 

Just me, the heartbeat, and the growing ache in my chest. By now, I think I’m pretty sure I know what’s happening. I can feel my mana swirl in my vessel, my senses being more tuned to the energy than ever after my practice and acquiring [Observation]. It presses against the limits of its ever growing container, trying to escape. 

And the only thing keeping my vessel in one piece is my body. Powered by my heart stat. Which is, of course, far, far lower than my vessel. Would this kill me in the long run? It sure has been hurting more with every stat point in mana.

Not that that’d stop me.

Laying on my bed, tired of people, I have nothing to do but experiment with magic. So what if it’s dangerous? What isn’t? I am already creating a web of magic to interface with my brain and have given myself bleeding before. What’s the worst that can happen with my chest?

So, with the calm focus that came from reducing my world down to just one thing, I create a tether. A single line of mana, bron from [Selection], connecting my vessel in on itself. It looks a little like a loop, but that’s not quite right. My skill, [Selection], connects me to whatever I select. Not my vessel. Not my mana. Me.

I can feel my vessel and the mana swirling inside it. Angrily trying to escape my body. It feels wild, untamed, energetic. Energy squeezed into a too-small space. It needs pressure to function.

I’ll give it pressure.

[Suppression] is my highest levelled skill. It’s strong, and I can wield it well. My mana churns into the ethereal pattern on the skill, and then that grey swirl of energy travels along the tether, and into my own vessel.

There’s a strange sensation in my chest. It’s a weak cast to start with, just to be safe, so I don’t hurt myself. I can feel the skill sink in, and my mana turns almost more… placid? No, that’s not the right word.

I can feel it calming, raging less against the confines of my body. But not because there’s more pressure. It’s not compressed any more than it already is, but instead, it fights its containment less. Instead, that fury is pressed against the edges of my skill. The mana fights back against the [Suppression].

And that, I can tell, is changing it. [Selection] whispers to me about the underlying nature of it. 

[Nullmage 7 > 8] 

More points flow into my vessel. It grows slightly. I understand more of it. My skills feed me information, and I process it. And then, there’s a faint bit of resonance. Where my essence fills in the gaps.

Mana is power. It wants to move. It wants to reject anything else. That’s why my mana dispells the skills of other people. Even now, it’s rejecting the supression. But the skill is fed by itself, so my mana fights. With more and more violence as the seconds pass. 

And it will only fight more. It’s fun, then. This is a simple way to permanently enhance the strength of my mana. Then, that enhanced strength will feed my skill, giving it a stronger pacifying effect. 

Additionally, it lets me hide how strong I am. I can imagine that the roiling mana in my vessel would usually give away my stats to someone stronger than me, but with this? It might not, anymore. 

So, I keep the loop active. An instance of [Selection] and an instance of [Suppression]. Permanently feeding off my regeneration into pacifying my mana, having it grow angrier and angrier. Then, that angry mana pours into my skill all over again, pacifying it.

The pressure on my chest eases up. I smile, then activate a second instance of [Suppression] over my entire body, making it heavy and hard to move. There, now I’m still training my other stats. And, of course, my mind.

That one isn’t recorded cleanly in numbers, but the difference is obvious. By now, two strains of [Suppression] are doable, even in the background, while I focus on other stuff. I can still trace runes like this, for example. I can still use the mana maze, or read a book. 

A thin smile spreads on my face as I lay in my bed. The world is dark and quiet, my mana is placid, and my entire body feels heavy. A little like a weighted blanket. It’s almost cozy, now that the pain in my chest is replaced with a more even soreness and resistance across my entire body. 

For a minute, maybe three, I allow myself to simply enjoy the calm, quiet nature of the world, with the three suppression loops active - one for my mana, one for my body, one for my hearing. Then, I decide it’s time to stop resting on my laurels. Straining my mind, I move more of my mana, and decide to keep working on the memory bank.

My mana writhes against my control, my mind straining, and I feel a trickle of liquid from my eyes again. Kuro quickly drinks the blood, though, so it’s no trouble at all. I smile, laying on my bed.

I love magic. I want to know it all. And then, I will break any magic used against my friends. Because that’s the kind thing to do.

Chapter 105: The Kind Thing

When I walk down the staircase to the main room of the inn, Harry turns to look at me. Then he gives a soft whistle. “Snow,” he calls. “You figured out an attunement loop?” 

I tilt my head, then look at my vessel. I suppose, in a way, the construct of [Selection] and [Suppression] does look a bit like a loop. “I guess?” I say. “You knew this was a thing?”

He snorts at that. “Yeah, I knew,” he says. “Pretty common, especially for descenders. Almost necessary if you wanna go down a few floors.” 

The part he isn’t saying is that he has one active, too. Something similar to my new technique. Funny, that. Retired adventurers in unlikely places. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?” I ask.

“What, and deprive you of the joy of figuring it out?” Harry smirks. “You wouldn’t have listened. Plus, you were still a few dozen points off getting seriously injured. I’d have told you in a level or ten.”

At that, I nod. It makes sense. He seems to understand me, just a bit. When he doesn’t add anything else for a few seconds, I simply say “Alright,” and decide the conversation is over. Instead of focusing on Harry, I sit down with the one other person in the inn.

Amelie is in her wheelchair, across from me. The others are all out on errands. I’m working more on my skills, while she’s expanding her network.

Turns out, this floor is rather good at letting her make puppets. Apparently, [Puppeteer] works best when the creatures she reanimates used to be alive, in some form. They also copy over some of the rudimentary intelligence. So, turning an ant puppet into a scout might be hard, since ants aren’t particularly smart, but using a human corpse to relay information might work.

She’s currently eating while her other hand dances through the air with faint, ethereal strings coming from it. They’re so thin I can barely spot them, and some seem to fade away into the ether, or pass through walls. “Can you control the puppets when they aren’t taut?” I ask.

Amelie looks up from her food, meeting my eyes. She smiles, slightly. “Oh, have I awakened thine curiosity?”

I nod, shamelessly. “Yeah,” I reply. “Necromancers are cool.”

“I’m not a necromancer,” she returns, pouting.

“You turn corpses into useful puppets,” I say.

Amelie frowns, just a little. “I’m a puppeteer.”

“Sure,” I say with a shrug. “Whatever works for you.”

She pouts some more, eats another bite of food, then focuses on the strings again. “If you must know,” she says, “I evolved my job. Now, I can weave ethereal threads. They pass through objects when infused with a bit of mana. This means I can now use my puppets even when they’re distant, and even when there is something in the way.”

“That’s very cool.”

At that, she smirks, just a bit. “It is, isn’t it? Right now, the puppets are gathering more plantmatter for me to use. It’s amazing what this floor regularly sheds.”

I tilt my head a little. “Are you making golems?” I ask.

She pouts. “They’re grafted puppets.” 

What a vain girl. I smile, slightly, at her antics. “I see. Is there any chance you’d like me to attempt enchanting these grafted puppets of yours?”

A glimmer twinkles in her eyes. She leans forward a bit. “My, my. Now that does seem interesting.”

I smile. It seems like a good opportunity to practice my skills. “Just let me know when you’ve got something for me to work on. And ask Bay if she wants to add some armor, too, maybe.”

“Hmmmm,” Amelie hums. “The armor may be too heavy, but it’s worth an attempt. Let’s see here, we could attach thin metal plating at the joints…”

And then she goes on. We theorize about her grafted puppets. It’s a little fun, being part of a task like this. Usually, I’m not a fan of group projects, but when everyone has their own specialty, it’s a lot more interesting. Amelie makes the puppets and gathers the materials. All I need to do is the fun part - inscribing runes. Maybe I’ll take a look at how she makes the puppets move. Some string-based abilities could be useful.

There’s a small smile on my lips as we theorize. The third floor is proving a lot of fun so far - as well as a lot of trouble. We still have to set the wayfarer’s guild on fire, after all, and then there was the ominous message about lighting a beacon for the Flametouched. But surely nothing will come of that. Surely.

The door to the tavern swings open, and Vincent walks in. 

I look over, brushing him with my mana sense. 

[Fighter, lv. 28]

Then I look at him. There’s blood staining his clothes, and he’s covered in a few wounds. In fact, he looks in pretty crappy condition. He stumbles against a table, smearing blood all over the furniture. He can barely stand.

A moment later, his eyes trail to me. They’re fully aware, not even slightly cloudy, and he looks at me… hungrily. “Hey,” he gasps. “Ion. You. You’re a healer, right? I’ll pay anything you need, I’ll-”

Amelie looks at me, as if considering her words. Harry eyes him as well, giving the bloodstains a glance. There’s a lot of blood on him - quite a bit in places that he’s not even hurt. “Did you get into a fight?” I ask, standing right in front of him.

He reaches out for my shoulder, as if he wants to steady me, but I take a step back. He looks at me, and I see his lips pressed into a thin line for a moment. “I did. In the undergrowth, it was… the plants came alive, and… they all died.” Tears form at the edges of his eyes. “They all died.”

I look at him. “Two minor requests,” I say. His eyes widen.

“But… you only charged one before!”

“My prices have gone up, since I’m a better healer now,” I reply calmly.

Vincent grits his teeth. “Fine,” he grinds out. “Fine, damn it. Now stitch me back together.” Again, he moves to lean on me, but I don’t let him. 

“Sit in a chair,” I tell him.

This, at least, he does without complaint. I sit across from him, making sure there’s a reasonable amount of distance between us. Vincent eyes me, and I try to [Select] him.

The skill slips off, unable to target him properly.

He blinks at me. “What was that?”

“It’s a targeting skill, to let me heal you more easily,” I reply.

“Can’t you just do it?” he asks, annoyed. 

I frown. “It’ll be faster and more efficient this way.”

“What do I care about your efficiency?” he snaps. “You’re a healer. I’m paying you. Do your job!”

That annoys me. Unfortunately, “being annoyed” is not a good enough reason for me to let him keep bleeding all over the floor. So, I force a blank expression on my face, and, despite the nagging feeling I have, I cast a healing spell.

Vincent’s lips twist upwards. 

[New Skill acquired!]

[Intuition 0 > 1]

The bad feeling worsens, and mana like an oil slick flows over the cloud of healing. I look at Vincent’s grin, blank faced. Then, his skill considers all conditions active, and I feel a knife stab into my stomach.