Magic Breaker Ch 196 - 198 (Patreon)

Chapter 196: Dispelled Ire

My feet land on soft sand. Despite being a secret exit, I’m still deposited in the same safe-zone. Even now, though, it grows more elaborate. More clouds, more “setpieces”. There are even more trees - though the central one remains the tallest, and the only one bearing fruit.

There are also only two exit portals. One leads to the special floor we were promised, and it is a pitch-black void. Our only hint is that it smells of decay, but in a mouldy, stale way, rather than a “rotting corpse” kind of way. I politely ignore the portal as I pluck my coconut, and eat it.

[Your stats have been reinforced!]

Instantly, relief spreads through me.

I carefully observe the way the healing makes its way through me, and it seems almost intelligent. It goes to my lung first, and then disperses most of its energy to mostly patch that up. I can still feel the muscles ache, but the hole in my chest is fixed - though poorly. There’s a clump of dense, numb tissue there, a scar. 

Shame, that. But, well, I’ll fix it once I’m good enough to heal my arm. Even now, I’m still working on that, as mana regenerates in my vessel. I watch that process, too. The way power bubbles forth from it like a well, generating in bursts, almost in tune with my heartbeat, but not quite. 

Curious how that works. Some part of my regeneration gets diverted to creating more runes under my skin, these ones meant to heal me. Or at least keep me functioning and patched up. They might even help my physical stats out a little, letting me push myself further than I otherwise could.

Even now, I’m having to carefully reapply the cruncher and my attunement loop to keep my growing mana in check. After emptying it out, it’s already getting to the point of blowing me up again.

Sadly, the coconut doesn’t regenerate my lost pinky. Which also has its upsides! It gives me more chances to experiment with limb regeneration on a smaller scale, after all. “Truly, I am our group’s greatest optimist,” I say out loud.

Instantly, Sylves laughs. “No you’re fricken not, Snow,” she complains. “Clearly, that’s me.”

I nod at her statement, understanding that evidently, I was not changing her mind. Sylves could get like that. Underneath all that playfulness, she was a pretty vicious person. But that’s alright. I like her, after all, so she can be as vicious as she likes. I’ll cover for her.

“Going for a swim,” Opal announces happily, shedding their trenchcoat and some more meaningless clothes, then diving into the ocean. Inu soon follows them - wearing her full armor. She, predictably, sinks to the ground, and I trail her location by a small stream of bubbles popping at the surface, as she partakes in her own exploration.

Even then, I can feel the Ire pressing in on us. The mana around us is growing denser, like a hand trying to grab and squeeze me. Is the monolith about to shake us down for our lunch money? Surely not. If it wants my lunch money, then I’ll need to learn how to fully replace calories with mana.

Well, I do learn best under pressure. So maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea-

“We should talk about what we will do,” Richard says quietly. “I can feel the monolith growing dissatisfied with us. I wish to avoid that,” she explains, adjusting the fly on her suit to be a little more loose as she pulls out her cooking equipment.

Humming softly, I nod. “We either need to recruit someone, or ditch three people - maybe have them form their own group?” I suggest.

There are some slow nods in reply to that, but no one wants to fully commit yet. So we wait, at least until everyone has a meal in their hands and sits around the campfire.

Then, we talk.

- - -

Anna will take Trey and Isabelle to a regular floor. 

Jean and I can’t go, because Delfine would find us, and cause trouble. And I refuse to climb without my friends, so that leaves Richard in a flexible position. We could swap her for Trey, but frankly, chances are that the special floor will be more dangerous than a normal one. But also more rewarding. Maybe we’ll find more treasures, which could be fun. I do like treasures.

Reasonably, Delfine won’t harm any of them. Anna has, on the account of killing Vincent, grabbed an authority for herself, and broken through to the late 60s in terms of her supremacy. Which means she’s now also stronger and faster than me. They grow up so quick…

“Stop looking at me like that,” Anna says, shivering slightly, and I turn my gaze to the fire again. Whoops. “Like a child, I mean,” she amends.

Hm. I guess I was doing that. Is that rude? Was I being condescending again? I look at Inu, and she nods. Dang it. People are so hard. What a pain, what a pain. Instead of people, I let time pass again, reading my book a bit more. 

Now that my vessel is almost entirely full on mana, it seems a little afraid of me. Well, even more than when I pressed down on it. I make sure to be really careful when feeding it mana, so it doesn’t explode or anything. I’m polite like that, after all!

After a few more hours, Anna, Trey and Isabelle split off from us. The old lady threatens to murder us all if anything happens to Jean. Which isn’t really all that scary. Despite all of the complaints, the ends up taking the portal to the “normal” safe zone. Which leaves just seven of us to tackle the hidden floor.

As soon as they’re all gone, I can feel the Ire retreating. The mana that felt almost cloying, choking, dissipates back into nothingness, the usual acidic prickle against my skin, easily kept at bay by my own mana. I smile faintly. It’s a little like the monolith has little rules for its personal happiness as well. A little like me, I think. Fun.

- - -

Eventually, after about a day, we leave for the new floor.

[Selection 30 > 31]

Mana tethers connect the treasure-tome to me, now. I’ve made them solid, but as flexible as I can - which isn’t very much. I really need to look into playing more with mana flexibility. Right now, my structures are a little too… rigid, I guess? Hm.

Regardless, they work. The book at least acts like it’s attached to me by a few chains. Surely not because it tries to escape or infect anyone else. No, no, my precious book wouldn’t do that. 

It stops wriggling as I look at it. That’s what I thought.

Once I’ve sufficiently pacified the tome, I step through the portal to the hidden floor. Darkness envelops me, and I can feel Kuro drinking it in, almost. There’s a moment where I wait for light to appear, but it just doesn’t. Instead, Opal bumps into me, making me stumble slightly.

Reflexively, I pulse [Observation] to see through the darkness - and all I get is dull feedback about a metre out. Then, the blackness hungrily absorbs my mana. A soft humming feels the air, like a gentle song.

The stone feels cold underneath my feet, slick and wet and covered with… moss, I think, after dragging my hands through it. Again, I send out mana to scan the area. The humming grows a little louder, and I still can’t see further than a few feet - just far enough to know we’re in a tunnel of some kind. 

“Thatch, can you see anything?” I ask, my voice dull in this space.

“Nope,” he admits readily, and I hum. 

The distant music seems to be drawing closer, and our only way forward is towards it.

Well. This seems like a problem.

Chapter 197: In the Dark

Well. I’m still stuck in darkness.

Frankly, it’s kinda nice. I’ve always thought about what it’d be like to be blind and/or deaf. Now, of course, this is a rude thought, and I wouldn’t actually want that, probably. But this does seem pretty in line with, say, a sensory deprivation chamber. Then, the humming gets louder.

“Hey, can you be quiet?” I ask into the darkness. “I’m trying to enjoy myself here.”

For just a moment, the voice quiets down. Then, I hear an arrogant huff, and the humming approaches faster. I sigh, softly, and pulse another scan, walking towards the nearest wall, and leaning against it. Then I close my eyes.

“Are you serious, Snow?” Opal asks. I can’t see their face, but I know they’re grinning brightly. “You’re gonna get like this right now?” 

Noisily, I unzip my backpack and, pointedly, put on my headphones. Decompression is very important to me, and it’s not like I’m lazing around. With every passing second, I put more runes underneath my skin, and even feed Kuro some mana. My shadowy friend has already spread out, seemingly loving this place.

[The Crawling Darkness is surprised at your calm. It delights in finding a fellow lover of dark spaces.]

I tilt my head at the notification and smile thinly. My headphones don’t have any battery, but they still work to slightly dull the noise. Even as it closes in, I lean against the wall, and close my eyes.

The ground is made of soft moss, faintly wet. There’s a dripping sound from the ceiling, where water falls down. Darkness, so perfect and quiet, covers my entire vision, and all the sounds are softened by it. Somewhere in there, there’s a truth. Somewhere in there, I smell Silence. 

After about thirty minutes of me resting against the wall, something happens. The others have made their plans, Richard has tried lighting fires, Opal and Inu have gone out to explore, and Sylves has been playing with the moss and her cape. Thatch stands guard over me, the sweetheart that he is.

But, once that time is up, something happens. There’s a long, distant shiver in the darkness that creeps across a tendril that is somewhat connected to me. Kuro, giving a tiny whimper of displeasure, withdrawing from the vastness around us, quickly weaving back into a mantle, abandoning its vast appendages. 

“Did someone hurt you?” I ask them, whisper-quiet.

My cloak purrs in response, coalescing into a soft little thing in my lap. A perfectly black cat. I can’t even see them, but they’re curled up there, cradling into me. I scratch behind Kuro’s ears, and they chitter in pleasure. 

“Apologies,” someone says from the darkness. I hear Thatch’s clothes ruffle as he stiffens, and I feel the violence oozing off him as his monstrous shell manifests. “I believe I stepped on one of your bonded companion’s tentacles.”

Their voice is quiet. Innocent and small. Girlish, too. I send out a scan of mana, and a moment later, it’s violently torn apart and the darkness erupts into a horrible screech. Warm spittle touches my faces, burning with acid and heat against my skin. And for a moment, I feel fear blossom in my heart.

And then, the noise disappears. The darkness returns to normalcy. My flayed magic falls to the ground in motes of mana, and the little girl clears her throat. “A-hem,” she rasps awkwardly, as if her throat were sore. “That was rude, my apologies. I am picky about being perceived.”

I nod, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Got it, sorry. I’m picky about being touched, for reference.”

“Oh, I see. My apologies,” she replies. And I feel the darkness withdraw ever so slightly. “You were awfully rude about my singing, though.”

Thatch looks back and forth between me and the source of the voice. I can imagine his eyes glinting emerald in the darkness, and feel his tension, so I gently place a hand on his shoulder. “I got this,” I whisper to him. Then, I turn to the little girl in the dark.

“Sorry,” I say simply. “It’s been a rough few days. I wanted some quiet.”

“How rough?” the creature in the dark asks.

I smile. It’s just cuz of a funny thought I had. The thought that it, if it’s a girl, might be tilting its head. “My species doesn’t usually have holes through their upper body.”

“Oh,” she says. “How troublesome. Apologies for being too harsh on you.”

What a silly critter. “Forgiven and forgotten,” I say, waving a hand.

“Why did you not run from me?” it asks.

“Should we have?” I ask in return.

There’s a soft rustle, like leaves in the wind, like crackling fire, and I interpret it as a shake of its head. “No,” it says. “Yet most do. Why not you?”

Gently, I hum for a moment, thinking it over. Then, I smile. “Too comfy,” I say simply. “It was too comfy.”

“How strange. The darkness is intended to be unsettling. It deprives you of information, does it not?” she asks.

I nod. “It does,” I say. “And, well, my curiosity tells me to look at you.” There’s a bristling growl in the dark, a beast that could crush me in a moment. It doesn’t scare me. “But I’m polite. I get it. Your boundaries are where my curiosity ends. And I had a feeling that this would go well.”

“A feeling?” she asks.

“If we had run, you would’ve hunted us,” I say simply.

“Yes,” it confirms. “I would have torn you limb from limb, gutted and devoured your insides.”

Thatch shivers slightly at the statement, but I just nod. “But it was too comfy for that. To run. Just a feeling.”

“Just a feeling?” she asks.

“Just a feeling,” I nod.

[Annexation 8 > 9]

And if she tried to tear me limb from limb… I would’ve won.

- - -

We talk a little while longer. The little girl in the dark that is not, at all, a little girl, eventually sits down in front of me. She crosses her legs with the sound of a flowing river. She tilts her head with the crackle of a campfire. Her curiosity brings me existential dread, and her anger makes me want to vomit up my guts.

Despite that, we talk. I don’t begrude her peculiarities, and she doesn’t begrude mine. We have a calm, reasonable, and relaxed talk. And all the while, Thatch just stares at me in confusion, sitting quietly. He listens, adding things occasionally, sometimes getting the girl in the dark to calm, sometimes making her bristle.

But we talk. We make it work. How far a bit of good faith and kindness will get you.

Jean watches in curiosity, and I think he notices how similar she is to him. He even asks her to play, and they do, for a moment. The boy comes away with a few scratches, and the girl ends up crying a little, but I think neither regret it. They learned.

And then, eventually, the question comes. “What do you want from here?” the girl in the dark asks.

I tilt my head at it. “What can we ask for?”

“Nothing,” it says. “Everything,” she concedes a moment later.

Kuro slithers forward carefully, the cat in my lap unravelling into a formless shadow. Chitin legs clitter against the mossy ground in a few steps, as Kuro circles the murderous monster. And then, they purr. 

More noises fill the dark. The scraping of teeth on bone, the horrid ringing of nails on a chalkboard, and the innocent giggles of a child. A moment passes. The girl focuses on me again as Kuro returns. “What do you want?” she asks. This time, she’s nicer.

I smile faintly. “Is there anything you’d like to show us?” I ask.

Instantly, the darkness grows even darker in her excitement. I can feel the heat leech from my body, deathly cold grasping at my bones. “Yes!” the girl says happily. “Yes, there is. May I take your hand?”

“No, thank you, I don’t like to be touched.”

“I was going to cut it off,” it pouts.

“I know,” I say. Then, I smile again. “Lead the way,” I say.

After a moment, there is a small sigh, and then footsteps in the dark. The muted clicking of hard shoes going through a thin layer of moss and hitting cold stone. All of us who stayed near the entrance rise, and we walk forward. What treasure would a monster in the dark like to show off? I can’t wait to find out.

Chapter 198: Double Standard

“That’s my friend, Opal, please don’t bite their head off,” I request.

Instantly, the horrible dread in the tunnel retreats a bit. There’s a terrifying crunching sound, like that of bones breaking. “They look so tasty, though,” the girl hums sadly.

Opal grins brightly. “I’ve been told I’m a snack, but I only let my friends bite me,” they say. 

“Can we be friends?” the thing in the dark asks hopefully.

Shrugging, Opal replies calmly. “Not biting-friends, sadly. But talking-friends, definitely,” they say.

The monster pouts at that. “Okay,” it says. “Talking-friends, then.”

“We might meet more people in the tunnels. Please ask before trying to eat them,” I tell her.

“But I want to eat them.”

“What if they don’t want to be eaten?” I ask. “I want to see you but you don’t want to be seen. So, I’m nice and don’t even try, right? You should be nice to other people.”

For a long moment, my logic stuns the thing in the dark. Then, carefully, it tries a question. “Why should I be nice?” it asks.

I tilt my head. It’s a good question, right? Why should one be nice, after all? “If you’re nice to people, they’re more likely to be nice to you. And their friends, people who are nice to them, will also probably be nicer to you.”

She thinks for a moment. “I don’t understand,” the girl says.

“If you bit my friend, my other friend might try to look at you,” I say.

“What?!” the girl asks, outraged. “Why?!” It feels like ice in my veins.

“Because you were rude. If you’re not nice to people, they won’t be nice to you,” I reply simply.

“So I should always be nice first?” she asks, quietly, as if thinking it over carefully.

I shrug. “Most of the time. If people are rude, you don’t owe them anything. But some people are rude at the start, then turn nice when they understand you. Some people look nice, but turn rude when you ask them small favours.”

“That’s complicated,” it complains with a pout.

Standing in deep blackness, I have the urge to ruffle her hair, but hold back. I’m pretty sure my hand might get bitten off if I try that. “It sure is,” I admit. “That’s why you should be nice first, and if you think people suck, then you stop being nice.”

For another long moment, she lets the simplification sink in. I can feel Opal staring at me with a lot of amusement. And they know I’m glaring at them with my deadpan “say nothing” expression. Eventually, the thing in the dark gives a short nod, with the sound of fresh snow crunching. And then, she moves further into the darkness.

- - -

We end up collecting Inu as well at some point. And the empathetic girl, of course, instantly hits it off with the thing that lurks in the darkness. “Awww, aren’t you a precious critter?” she coos happily.

The monster preens at the praise. “Yes,” it says. “This one is precious. Very precious.”

“Yes you are!” Inu praises happily. Despite that, she just clasps her hands to her face. Somehow, she instinctively understands that the creature doesn’t want to be seen or touched. At best, heard. “Would you like to hum a song for us as we walk?” she asks.

“Yes, I would greatly enjoy humming.”

“Would you like me to hum along?” Inu asks.

“Please do,” the girl asks, excitedly. Her excitement feels like icicles stabbing under my fingernails, the darkness growing dense and cold. The monster begins to hum a song as it walks again, faint footsteps in the darkness.

And Inu hums along. I take a moment, then gently join in as well. No one says anything, their voices remaining perfectly quiet at my contribution. And so, we walk further into the dark.

- - -

A sickening snapping and crunching fills my ears. It’s the sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing. Of things dying voicelessly, their screams drowned out in the ghostly hum that surrounds us.

“Were you hungry?” Inu asks kindly.

“Very,” the monster says. 

“What did you eat?” the kind girl asks.

There’s a long pause. Then a small rustling. It sounds like a little girl wiping her mouth. “I don’t know,” she says quietly.

I look down at myself, and cast a healing spell. “That’s alright,” I reply. “I never liked that leg anyway.”

The silence is chilling. The girl tilts her head at me with the sound of crackling leaves. “Can I have the rest of it?”

“No thank you, I’m very attached to my knee.”

“Okay!” she replies cheerily, then rises from the floor. She turns to me for a second. “Sorry for touching you.”

“It’s okay,” I lie. And we walk on, though I lean on Opal’s shoulder as I hop with the rest of them. Blood drip-drops into the darkness of Kuro, wrapping around my stump. The pain burns. Lances of ice shoot upwards through my veins, and there’s a thin sheen of necrosis around where it bit off my leg. 

[The Fleshsmith mocks your feeble form. It recommends that you grow many limbs, then you may not feel their absence as much.]

[Respitia the Pure averts her gaze at the rot infesting you.]

Pessimists, I chide mentally. Yes, I may be missing my left foot and shin, now, but there’s a positive to this. I can feel the corrosive mana flooding through my veins from the bite, the way it eats at my insides. And I push my own mana against it with [Deconstruction]. Quietly, sneakily, releasing only the tiniest wisp of magic from my vessel. Just enough to learn.

And I add the root of the rot to my archive.

- - -

“I’m hungry,” the girl says quietly. 

Richard nods in understanding. “Do not worry,” our chef says. “I will prepare a meal for you.”

And then, the little hiy’ht opens her mouth and regurgitates something she’s eaten. Like a mother feeding a baby bird, she feeds a meal to the thing that lurks in the dark.

“Delicious!” the little girl says, descending on the meal with enthusiasm. Half-digested, runed bones snap under her teeth, faint flashes of gold piercing the darkness. I hold my eyes shut, making sure not to open them until the flashes subside. “Thank you. I love you,” the girl says to Richard.

The hiy’ht just nods in silence, and we continue on through the dark.

- - -

“We’re there,” the girl says, and her voice shakes a little. Her humming has died off, but mine still continues. In fact, I smile gently, and nod at Inu. She can’t see it, but I know she’ll get it. And the kind girl does, of course.

“Are you tired?” she asks the thing in the dark.

There’s a pause, then the sound of crunching snow. A nod. “I am, just a little,” it says. 

“Would you like a lullaby?” I ask. “The others can go ahead, I’ll sit with you.”

“Mommy needs to sit as well!” the girl protests, focusing on Richard. Apparently, feeding her qualified the hiy’ht for being her mom. 

Gracefully as always, Richard accepts the notion. Her calm is incredible, even in situations like this. Perhaps, one day, I’ll ask her what makes her so fearless. “Of course I’ll stay,” she says. “For a little while.”

“Good,” the girl hums, and it’s a deep snarl. “I get lonely. So very lonely.”

And then, gently, I hum. The others instantly press forward, into the room that’s ahead. I can hear as Thatch feels for the latch on a wooden door, his knuckles scraping softly across the material. I hum, and the monster that lurks in the darkness grows drowsy. The door opens, and there’s a lightbulb in the room.

My eyes are closed, and so are those of Richard. Gentle illumination spills into the tunnel, but it just falls onto my eyelids. The others don’t look back. Not even Jean - if only because Inu has her hands over his eyes. They quickly shuffle into the room, and I continue my lullaby.

I hear more scraping, moving, things getting louder, but I ignore them. There’s the noise of fighting, of bones breaking, of weapons clattering. I feel mana brush by me, but my eyes stay closed, and I remain seated, with only Richard and Kuro by my side.

And I hum a lullaby. The most gentle sound I could ever have made. The monster calms, its breathing slowly, and in the end, it is nothing but a little girl that curls up alone in the dark, on a bed of moss, sung to sleep by a stranger. The darkness slumbers. Slowly but surely, it falls asleep.

Poison creeps through my veins, and I feel myself rotting from the inside out. And yet, my voice remains even, my injured lung providing what air it can. The girl even reaches out for me, laying her head in my lap. I brush my fingers through her hair calmly.

Fear bubbles in my heart. At any moment, she might wake up and kill me. And yet, all I do is hum, calmly, gently. My friends fight for their life just one room ahead, and I worry for them, too. But I don’t show it. I let it fall into my apathy. I let myself stop caring.

And then, second by second, the noise disappears. Steps approach us, and someone lays a hand on my shoulder. I nod, silently.

Kuro coats my lap, manifesting shadows over it, and I [Solidify] them, creating a facsimile of what the cute little girl slept on. Then, slowly, I shuffle back quietly, still humming my lullaby. Still luring the monster to sleep. 

Very quietly, I get up, hopping on my single foot and leaning on Inu for support. Richard rises to her feet. I infuse the shadows with mana, to make them stay solid. And I keep humming my lullaby. 

We walk away, slowly, gently. My foot touches down quietly on moss and stone as we reach into the bright room. There’s bodies of shadow-crawlers strewn about. Skeletons of dark fire. And, in the middle of the room, there’s a black orb. As I still hum, Kuro wraps around it, devouring the treasure.

[You have found a Treasure-Shadow.] 

Behind us, there’s a quiet yawn. Inu hisses in fear, and we stumble ahead, further up, up to the portal that leads away from this hell of hungry dark.

“Mommy?” the girl asks from behind us, rubbing her doll-eyes. The hungry monster turns to us. I don’t look. “Are you leaving?”

“I must,” Richard says.

“I’ll be all alone again,” she says.

Tilting my head, I stare ahead, not looking at the girl. “You have a piece of me with you,” I say.

“I want more,” it whispers.

And then, I sigh. I wasn’t even mad it bit off my leg. I can forgive that. I can forgive it for poisoning me, for afflicting me with rot, for all the pain. I was even being polite about her touching me. Twice. But there’s one thing I’m annoyed at. The double standard.

“That’s not nice,” I say quietly.

“Maybe I don’t want to be nice,” the monsters hums greedily.

I make a sign with my hand. A simple one. “Leave.” 

Inu steps through the portal with Jean. So do Thatch, Opal, and Sylves. Richard gives me one more glance, then steps into the safe zone as well.

I turn around, my eyes closed as I stare at the monster, balancing myself using a cane of solidified mana. “Well,” I say. “If you’re gonna be rude, I will too.”

Then I open my eyes, and stare at the thing that lurks in the dark.

[Observation 24 > 25]

It screams and lunges.