by Andrew Rowe
Analyze Attunement Composition.
Then the world went white.
***
I stood in a room of shimmering ice, but I was not alone.
Four bodies were at my feet, already as cold as the chamber’s walls. A fifth man lived still, though only just. He was on the ground, his numb fingers failing to grasp the handle of that axe of his, the one he’d always called by that absurd woman’s name. He’d always insisted that “she” would protect him, see him through any battle.
Mizuchi, it seemed, was an exception.
The serpent stood before me, wearing her hybrid form: a woman with strangely colored hair and iridescent scales covering virtually all of her exposed skin. Her horns and tail were wet with the blood of my fallen friends.
We’d believed we could beat her. Two Emeralds and four others that were near-enough, bearing second attunements and crystal bonds.
We had been fools. She’d never even shown us her true form.
And I’d chosen the wrong sword.
I lifted my saber again, frost glittering along the edges, and swept it upward. A wave of ice cascaded across the room, tall as a high tide and stretching from wall-to-wall.
Mizuchi brushed it aside like a stray hair. Then, with a flick of her finger, I was flying backward, my armor of frost cracking on impact.
She flickered forward, appearing in front of me in a heartbeat. Weakly, I swept my sword upward.
She caught it in her right hand. “Mm. It doesn’t feel very sacred, does it?” Mizuchi frowned as I struggled, absolutely ignoring it when I punched her with my other frost-encrusted fist. “Feels…fragile, in fact.”
She squeezed.
Snap.
A legend died in her grasp.
“Oops.” She gave a look of mock dismay as the blade crumbled between her fingers. “Well, that’s not good. Mother would be quite disappointed if she knew I’d broken something so important…so I suppose I can’t let you leave after all.”
She pulled back her other hand.
In one sudden, final moment, I burned every bit of power left, channeling it into speed.
With that speed, I ripped something from my belt and hurled it. Not toward Mizuchi, but past her.
Mizuchi’s hand shot through my chest, piercing through ice and ribs alike. She tore through my heart.
I would be dead in moments.
The last thing I heard was the ringing of the bell that I’d hurled at my fallen friend.
Live, I prayed for him.
And in the next instant, I died.
***
My eyes snapped open.
Wha…what was that?
I clutched at my chest, feeling the echo of a vision of my own demise. It was only at that moment that I noted that my arm was entirely cocooned by ice.
But that wasn’t what made me panic. I mean, it probably would have either way, but there was something more alarming:
I wasn’t cold.
That was worthy of double panic, at least. That implied either I’d gotten so frozen that I was numb to it, or…
The moment I began to think about the wrongness of the ice, it began to subside, gradually creeping back toward the blade of the sword.
I blinked, then flexed my hand experimentally. No pain. No numbness.
I was fine, barring of course the mental scarring of just experiencing my own death — or more likely a previous wielder’s death — at the hands of someone who had already very nearly killed me twice.
Mizuchi. It had to be her, didn’t it?
I groaned, sitting up and thinking back.
This was similar to what had happened when Selys-Lyann had frozen me in an apparent attempt to defend me against the flames in my first exam, but unlike that time, I seemingly hadn’t harmed myself in the process.
I concentrated for a moment on Selys-Lyann’s blade.
Ice armor.
Ice flowed from the blade onto my arm. Once again, I didn’t feel even a hint of cold.
Okay, okay, that’s enough.
The ice melted away.
Huh. Well, that’s disturbing. I mean, potentially extremely useful, but disturbing.
[It would appear that you have partially connected with the sword’s spirit.]
I turned my head toward the crystal. “You could tell what was happening?”
[To some degree. I can only read your surface thoughts. I am aware that you were seeing images of some kind from the sword, but not what they were. I can also conclude that you were not able to determine the functions of the sword’s spirit rune.]
“Uh, yeah. Let’s…maybe not try to play with that any further.” I groaned. “Can you give me any insight on how to bond this sword properly or learn to control it better?”
[Certainly, if you wish to use your boon on that subject matter.]
I sighed. “I should have expected that. Okay. Let’s get back to figuring out how to charge you.”
[I await your solution to this problem.]
I dug through the contents of the Jaden Box, trying to find anything else that might be helpful. The only item I had with perfectly compatible mana was an old shield sigil, which I drained into the crystal immediately.
Almost, but not quite enough.
[You have five minutes remaining.]
I drained the batteries again. “How much are we up to?”
[You have 11480 mana to spend.]
So close.
I transferred every bit of mana from my body that I felt I could do safely. I wasn’t able to go through quite my full mana supply safely, but I pushed it as close as I could.
[You have 11770 mana to spend. Two minutes remaining.]
In a panic, I started pulling everything I could think of out of the box.
Mana crystals. I’ve still got a few.
I burned through every gray mana crystal and transference crystal I had.
[You have 11970 mana to send. Thirty seconds remaining.]
With a curse, I pulled out my last resort: my Class 2 universal mana crystal.
I’d been saving it for a rainy day. This counted.
I shifted the mana inside it to transference, then pushed the mana into the crystal.
[You have 12006 mana to spend. Ten seconds remaining.]
“Mana bond on my left hand.”
[Instructions received. Please wait while I initiate the bonding process.]
I felt a sharp pain in my hand as a burst of light filled the room. I tightened my hand into a fist and clenched my jaw.
The pain lasted longer than I’d hoped. Much longer. Minutes passed, until finally, the sharpness in my fingers gave way to numbness, and then vanished entirely.
I flexed my hand experimentally.
[Bonding process complete.]
I exhaled a deep breath.
I’d taken a number of risks to try to save up the 12000 mana necessary to make a bond with the crystal, but as soon as I’d known the crystal could do that with one of the spirit entities, I’d planned to do it to myself.
I’d also known that bonding to the crystal had some level of risk, but given that the crystal’s mana types were nearly identical to my own, that risk was about as low as it could get.
“Thank you. Now, uh…how does this thing work?”
[Would you like to spend your boon on instructions for how to use your new Transcendence Crystal Bond?]
I groaned.
“…How amiable are you to the concept of trade?”
***
It was nightfall when I appeared outside of the shrine. I’d refused the offer to have my memories wiped. While I understood the intent, I wasn’t particularly traumatized by the experience, nor did I value the sanctity of the test.
I’d also refused the offer to have myself copied as an opponent for future tests. In part because it creeped me out, but mostly because I didn’t want a copy of myself being interrogated by any future political enemies I happened to amass. I couldn’t afford to let my knowledge be us
ed against people like Tristan.
I found Len waiting nearby, sitting on a large rock. She turned her head upward as I appeared, closing her book.
I waved a hand. “Hey, Len. Thanks for waiting.”
“Of course.” She tucked her book away in a pouch at her side. “Are you injured?”
I shook my head. “Not in any significant way, at least.”
“Can I trust that means you were successful, then?”
“Yep.” I patted the bag at my side.
“Excellent. You have performed to my expectations.” She stood up. “Can I see the crystal?”
“Not until we get back, if you don’t mind. I don’t see any reason why you’d take it and just leave me here, but I’d rather not take any risks.”
“Reasonable. Shall we go back to the tower, then?”
I exhaled a breath. “Let’s.”
Chapter XXIII – Greatest Fears
In spite of my fear of betrayal, we arrived back at the tower without any complications. When the doors opened, there was no massive stream of monsters this time — apparently, one performance was enough.
We stepped through the doorway, appearing inside the same entrance chamber as before. I found Sera, Vanniv, and Warren Constantine eating dinner at the table in the center.
“Corin!” Sera shot to her feet, drawing a momentary look of panic from Warren. Fortunately, the older man didn’t seem to take it as aggressive. “You’re okay?” Sera asked.
I nodded hastily. “Yeah. Everything okay on your end?”
“Yeah, we were just eating. Come get some food and fill us in on what happened.”
“Wait, wait. Crystal first. Then food,” Warren insisted.
I glanced around the room, checking for auras. Nothing seemed amiss. Sera was probably real. With only a bit of paranoia, I reached into my bag. “Retrieve Class 5 Mental Mana Crystal.”
The glittering purple crystal was nearly the size of my fist. When I extended my hand to display it, Warren stood up immediately and rushed over to snatch it out of my hand.
“I will return shortly.” Warren took the crystal and rushed up the stairs.
As I watched him flee, Len gestured to the table. “He’s just getting that set up. Please. Sit and eat. We can discuss your payment afterward.”
I took a seat by the table, had some dinner, and waited for Warren’s return.
When he came back, I told the story of my time in the shrine. I’d insisted on not having my memories wiped, and the crystal had agreed to my terms.
I omitted just one small detail — the mark now glowing softly beneath the glove on my left hand.
Both Warren and Len had the ability to detect magic. There was a high chance they’d figure it out on their own, but for the moment, I thought it would be best to keep at least one small secret to myself.
There was still plenty of time left to be betrayed.
***
After dinner, Sera and I stayed up in our guest room to talk a bit. I was a bit conflicted about if it was secure to tell her about my new crystal mark, since our room was almost certainly being observed. Ultimately, I decided that in the absence of materials for noise-blocking crystals, I would use a more mundane method: whispering.
“I got a bond with the crystal.”
Sera blinked. “Seriously? And you didn’t mention that earlier?”
“Security. Anyway, keep it down. Just wanted you to know it was doable for your own efforts.”
“How’s it work?”
“Gives me transcendence magic. Will give details later.”
Sera nodded and we pulled apart to more comfortable sitting distance. It was highly likely someone had noted our exchange, but I hoped that the volume level was low enough that they wouldn’t pick up the details. And if they did? Eh. I wasn’t that concerned about Len or Warren figuring out what I’d earned. Having a secret card to play was nice, but I didn’t think it was strictly necessary with those two.
With that done, it was time to get to another important subject. “So,” I asked. “What’s Len’s angle?”
“Well, it’s actually remarkably simple. If, by simple, I mean completely insane.”
Now that got me curious. “She must be truly special. Normally, you only respond to my plans with that level of vitriol.”
“Now, now, Corin. This is totally different. Your plans might be insane, but I would never dare to accuse them of being simple.”
I snorted. “Good, good. I wouldn’t want to worry about you finding a replacement.”
“Actually…replacements are perhaps a good way to segue into the actual topic.”
I gave her a quizzical look. “Because…what, she’s a copy?”
“Mm, related, but actually her personal situation is remarkably less relevant than other matters. I suppose it’s probably why she took such an interest, but…”
I made a “get on with it” gesture.
“Right, right. She wants to make a kingdom of monsters.”
I stared at her. “She…wait, what now?”
“You heard me correctly. And I’ll reiterate my earlier analysis: simple, yet insane.”
I whistled appreciatively. “Wow. You weren’t kidding. That’s…hm. I suppose it makes sense, in a certain light. I mean, classically, ‘monsters’ as a term has applied to a broad variety of beings, including sapient entities like…”
Sera raised both hands. “Let me stop you right there. If we were just talking about a kingdom of entities like, say, Researcher and Vanniv, I’d buy it. I think that’s plausible. There’s even precedent for it, on smaller scales. There are clans of species like tengu and kitsune, for example, that largely keep to themselves in specific territories on the Unclaimed Lands.”
“So, what’s the objection, then? She wants to allow things that are dangerous?”
Sera rolled her eyes. “All creatures with intellect are dangerous. Humans, perhaps most of all.”
“Then what’s the conflict?”
“The conflict, dear brother, is that she wants to allow all monsters. Including spire monsters.”
I frowned. “Not seeing the distinction. You mentioned Vanniv and Researcher earlier — they’re spire monsters.”
“Ah, let me step back. Usually I’m better about jumping steps in a conversation than this.” Sera shook her head. “When I spoke about Researcher and Vanniv before, I was talking about the ones that you know — my iterations of them. Summoned copies. The distinction is that Len wants to extend an invitation to original spire monsters. Researcher Prime and Vanniv Prime, if you would.”
“Sure, I get that difference, but…oh. I suppose the objection is a political one, then? You’re concerned about what the visages are going to do when Len begins this process.”
“No, Corin. I’m worried about what they’re already planning to do, since Len started doing this years ago.”
“Wait. Hold on. All those monsters we saw when the tower first opened…”
“Not summons. At least, most of them aren’t. They’re original monsters. Removed from the spires, and thus, removed from being useful to Selys.”
“Is that really such a concern? Can’t the visages just…make more monsters? Is there some sort of supply limit?”
“I’m not aware of any limitation on supplies, but there are a couple problems with spire monsters just…being off on their own.”
She raised a finger. “One, secrets. Spire monsters often learn things about the inner workings of spires that they’re not supposed to share. Given time, some of those secrets will leak.
Another finger. “Two. Resentment. While spire monsters generally don’t display anything other than frankly zealous feelings of gratitude toward their creators, there are exceptions. And when put in close proximity to one another, feelings of resentment are more likely to spread as the monsters are exposed to the realities of life outside the spire. Now, three…”
“Slow down on that. Why are spire monsters generally so loyal to Selys and
the visages? Even Mizuchi seemed like she was doing everything at the winter ball out of some sort of desire to be of service to Selys. Is there…some kind of magic that compels them to love Selys, even though they know copies of them are being slaughtered repeatedly for human growth?”
“Very likely. Even summons have magical alterations to their state of mind — you’ve heard Vanniv talk about his suppressed self-preservation instincts, for example. I don’t know how any of that works: it’s not exactly first-year student material. There are whole studies on the ethics of summoning, but I haven’t gotten into that stuff in too much depth yet. Suffice to say that magic is probably a part, and another part is that these monsters are effectively raised in captivity and subjected to life-long propaganda.”
I…didn’t really know what to say to that. “So, what you’re saying is basically that the whole system of spire monster society is hideously corrupt, and Len is trying to do something about it?”
“Yes. She’s a very silly girl.” Sera rubbed her forehead. “She has to know it won’t work. The forces arrayed against her are ludicrous.”
“Sort of like the forces arrayed against Tristan?”
“Yes, yes. Before you get too deep into plotting an alliance of mutual benefit, however, keep in mind that the overwhelming majority of Tristan’s allies — and very likely Tristan himself — would be opposed to any sort of monster kingdom idea. As much as I sympathize with the problem that Len is trying to solve here, I’m not sure we should be helping.”
I folded my arms. “And why is that? You’re a Summoner…or, well, an Invoker. You deal with monsters all the time.”
“Yes, Corin. And because of that, I must constantly remind myself that some monsters eat people, Corin. For every Vanniv and Researcher, there are a thousand others that want nothing more than to devour our delicious flesh.”
“I am pretty delicious.” I gave her an appraising look. “They might be on to something.”
“Corin, I’m being serious here.”
“Maybe don’t use delicious as a descriptor, then?”
“Ugh. Fine.” She threw up her hands. “My point, Corin, is that we can never forget about Mizuchi. We can never forget about the Tails of Orochi — who not only eat people, but other monsters.”
