“I know all about weapons,” said Kandon Valen, Second in Command of the settlement project. “If you can’t identify a good weapon from one that just looks good, then you’re a dead man when Skill meets monster. But I know how to use them more than how to make them.”
Mark had entered the Anti-Kaiju Team headquarters on Grey Whale and found himself facing not many people at all. A few night guard men and women watched over screens and checked flight plans that were a match for the screens on the floor above, on the bridge, but the people down here were all bored waiting for orders that the people above hoped to never give. The only way to truly win against a kaiju was to never fight one, after all.
Mark ended up easily meeting Kandon, for maybe the second time, he wasn’t sure, and the guy was wearing plain green army clothes. No armor in sight. The guy was currently sitting down and watching a big screen that was connected to an even bigger radar system, surveying the lay of the land. Other people around the room were looking at smaller screens, or sitting around and chatting, or reading books on their phones, or actual paper books.
Kandon was just watching the screens.
He struck Mark as a man who never stopped working, which Mark really appreciated.
Kandon was a dual-Skill, like General Aurora, his sister, but with True Brawny and Telekinesis, instead of Aurora’s Supreme Telekinesis and Telepathy. In a weird sort of way, Mark recognized that he was a male mirror of Aurora, but with muscles and size and looking a lot more like a standard brawny of some sort. Kandon’s True Brawny had an innate Tactile Telekinesis, though, so to have the Skill for Telekinesis on top of that… Mark was kinda wondering how that worked, exactly. Did it work well?
It must have worked well, because Kandon was a kaiju killer, focused on the job.
Or at least he would have been focused, if Mark hadn’t been here.
Kandon had been eyeing Mark’s sword, floating at his back, from the moment Mark had walked into view. The guy was trying not to be super excited at what he was seeing, and he was doing a very good job of that. The people in the hallways and even exiting the gym had been terrible about letting their greed show.
But for Kandon, his greed was different. He was the commander of the armed forces, and a kaiju killer in his own right. His greed seemed tinged with hope.
Mark had no trouble at all holding out his sword to Kandon and asking, “How well is this created? Does it feel weird in your TT grip?”
Kandon flubbed his words for a moment, sputtering, “Uh, well. M—” He coughed and straightened himself and stood up from his viewing chair and held out a hand, palm up, saying, “I guess I can take a loO—” His voice did something weird that he cut off before it could go too far. “I’ll take a look.”
Mark placed the weapon in his hand.
Kandon’s vector had been focused on the sword, and on Mark, like a radiance hiding behind clouds, not wanting to make itself known. His face had been much the same. But now the sword was in his hands and the sun shone. Mark was ignored. Kandon held the sword in his grip, and there was a certain clarity to his visage and his vector that reminded Mark of someone in the middle of a triumph.
He slowly, casually, cut the air with the sword, just a bit. He lifted the blade. He balanced the blade, and his triumph turned calculated. With narrowed eyes, Kandon scrunched his lips as he looked down the length of the blade and then ran his finger across the sharp edge. There was blood, but Kandon didn’t seem to care about the injury; it was little more than a paper cut.
And then Kandon focused and ran his finger across the blade. He was cut again, and this time he showed surprise.
He focused a third time and cut his finger a third time, and went, “Huh.”
Kandon held the sword, and really looked at it… And then he reluctantly looked at Mark. He did not want to give it to Mark. He wanted to keep it. But he breathed in deep and handed the sword back, anyway, saying, “It’s a good blade. Could be better, but not much better.”
Mark let his surprise show as he floated the sword back onto his back, asking, “It’s good? I thought it was shit for forging.”
Kandon almost said something, but he cut himself off, and then he paused. He sort of stared at Mark, like he was unable to form a proper sentence for lack of direction, or end goal, or understanding of what sort of thing was happening in front of him right now.
“It is… actually well forged.” Kandon said, and then he blinked and went in a completely different direction, saying, “Armsmaster Tulo told me that you submitted a kaiju blade design. I look forward to using that curved blade. Everyone makes straight ones but those just don’t cut that well. I think… I think you have a rather unique situation happening. I’ll send you an information packet on turning adamantium crystal— Do you know about crystallized biometals?”
“Only what I managed to find on the open internet. Tulo promised to teach me more once I did some experiments on my own.”
Kandon nodded. “Short story: biometals need to be seeded with direction to turn ‘forged’. That is how an Armsmith or other manipulator turns biometals into weapons.”
Mark nodded, Kandon’s words matching what Mark had already read. But Mark had a specific question, though. He asked, “Your Tactile Telekinesis slips into the metal and imposes your own direction onto the edge, yes? Does it help to have the directions of the metal… going the same way? As your TT? Is your TT forging the metal itself, as you use it? Is my own Adamantiumkinesis enough to actually make a forged blade, if I do it right?” At Kandon’s unsure look, Mark added, “Sorry. I’m not sure what I’m actually saying. If I knew what I was saying I could explain it better.”
Kandon said, “I’m not sure about all of that, but I do know that your current version of a blade is already mostly forged. Did you spend a lot of time on that sword? Or did you just shape it on a whim?”
“I spent maybe 20 minutes on this. Normally I only spend 2 seconds on a Shaping.”
“Ah. Yeah. Sounds right. That’s why it cut me. It’s surprising, you know?” Kandon held up his hand, with the three cuts on his thumb, saying, “Usually I can resist normal adamantium, but you made that one strong enough to injure me even when I’m focused, so I expect great things from you when you’re finally out here killing kaiju yourself, Mark.”
Mark felt a whole lot good at that simple commendation. “Thank you, Kandon.”
Kandon grinned a little. “Part of forging a weapon out of biometal is simply imposing your astral body onto the metals over a long time, in a specific shape or direction, and the metal gradually forges in those directions. I think you’re already good with forging, especially if you spend a modicum of time on the weapon itself, turning it from adamantium into an actual weapon, but there is always room to grow. In particular… Do you know some mithril blades grow with the wielder?”
“I did not know that!” Mark had a bunch of rapid ideas—
Kandon shorted those ideas, saying, “The effect isn’t that pronounced, and it’s not always the case. Perhaps forging techniques mean something to make a mithril blade grow, but I do know that once a blade grows with a person, if that person should die the mithril needs to be melted down completely to be used for something else. But sometimes, some people can wield very powerful, highly enchanted mithril blades, but only if they are capable of wielding them.” With reverence, Kandon added, “The Swords of Empire; that’s one name for them.”
The way Kandon spoke of swords made him seem enamored with the idea of a very powerful sword. Mark could mostly understand that. Most of the stories Mark had ever seen were about magical swords. Magical swords were a Big Deal.
Mark preferred spears.
“I will have to look up ‘Swords of Empire’ later,” Mark said.
Kandon grinned. “Have you checked out the blade in a scanner? How about yourself?”
“I haven’t in a while, but I know my spread is mostly maxed. I submitted it in the paperwork.”
“Let’s get a scan of both of you,” Kandon said, gesturing toward a door to the side that read ‘SCANNER’ over the bulkhead. “If your sword is scanned at higher than 79, then we know it’s been forged some.”
Mark’s eyebrows went up. “Oh. I didn’t know that!”
Soon, Mark found himself stepping into a machine set into the wall that was like the scanners at Citadel; compact and simple. Lights came on, illuminating the dark, and then the dark pulsed with light.
The light faded to numbers.
Body, Healthy Body: 062
Shaper, Adamantium: 090
Mind: 79
Natural, Union: 091
Soul: 67
Arch: 49
Estimated astral body strength: 95%
Most of the numbers were things Mark had seen before, but Mark quirked an eyebrow at the Healthy Body number. It was 3 points higher than two weeks ago, which was the last time Mark had checked out a Scanner. That was a lot of growth.
Mark stepped out of the machine. “Sword next?”
“Let’s hold for a moment.” Kandon asked him, “Your Healthy Body is tier 6 now; 3 PL higher than your submitted paperwork. Which is strange for multiple reasons. Healthy Body usually stops at PL 25. Are you experiencing any strange strength symptoms? Or weirdness? Perhaps a speed modifier?”
Mark reoriented. “I can’t sleep for shit these days. I have to put myself to sleep. That’s why I’m awake right now.”
Kandon nodded, knowingly. “Not a big deal unless it bothers you. Does it bother you?”
“Not really… So this is common? With Body Skills that get too large?”
“Skills are so much larger than how Malaqua defines them. What is ‘common’ and what is ‘known’ are vastly different than what any skiller would have you believe.” Kandon added, “That said… Brawnies are truly common on Earth, and so are buffing spells from Freyala’s Union to Hearthswell’s Castellan to more nuanced options. So a Healthy Body at 60+ isn’t unheard of, and it’s nothing to be worried about. People can get buffed to 94 in Body all the time, if they have to be rescued from a truly dangerous situation, and fast. What you’re experiencing probably has something to do with your Adamantiumkinesis and Union working together, but I don’t know about that. I’m no skiller.”
‘Or it could be due to your adamantium blood’ went unsaid, but Mark could tell that Kandon meant that, too.
So Aurora told him? Well sure. That was fine.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Mark focused on something else in what Kandon had said, though. “What’s a ‘skiller’?”
“A Skill-worker. A very specialized mage that can manipulate the Skill a person has. There’s only a few hundred of them in the Empire. They can redefine Skills in small ways.”
Mark’s mind rapidly went from amazed, to worried, because he knew of one large historical figure that worked with Skills directly… Well. Two big historical figures. One of those figures, Malaqua, had fixed Mark up with Healthy Body, Adamantiumkinesis, and Union. But the other big figure was Thrashtalon, the Betrayer, the Wild God.
Mark had no idea what to say or to think about the entire idea that there were professional Skill adjusters and also the Wild God who both did the same thing.
So Mark just nodded, and said, “Okay. Did not know that.”
“There’s nothing inherently dangerous about having a Skill that is overcapped, especially if the Skill is still as low as the 60s. Getting from 95 to 99 and then again from 99 to 100 is about the same as getting from 0 to 94. There are qualitative thresholds that a person has to pass, including whole different, deeper ways to use a Skill, that need to be understood and passed before you can get that far.” Kandon said, “Each threshold is like going from not having a Skill, to having a fully-developed Skill. Some people can kill kaiju with a base, PL 94 Skill. That’s most of our people. Some people, and like how I think you are, Mark, need to cross some thresholds, first.”
“… Huh,” Mark said.
Kandon smiled a little. “I think you’re getting near one of those thresholds, and soon… But for now! Stick the sword into the scanner!”
Oh yeah!
Mark put the sword into the scanner room, flat onto the floor, and then closed the door. Ten seconds later a readout appeared on a screen beside the door. PL 80.
Kandon went, “A little bit forged, then. Pretty talented!”
Mark smiled a little and then got his sword back.
Kandon rapidly went to the next topic, which Mark supposed was what Kandon had wanted to do since he saw Mark, based on the man’s vector. “Say? You like to spar, yes?”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to have a private gym for those of us on the kaiju squad. Sam Ranger is leading all of that, so you should make a point to check in with him when we get settled into location. Other than that, you’re welcome to hang out here and meet people. Want to stick around?” Kandon added, “And can I, uh, use the sword a little bit? I want to cut up some stuff in a test room. I’ll give it back, of course!”
… Mark had been hoping for a spar, but… Well.
Mark felt unbalanced that his nominal commander, one step up the chain of command, was asking to use his sword like and acting like some sort of… big brother, or something. But it was nice. Mark expected more orders and less requests, though. But maybe Kandon was just like his sister in most ways, and wasn't that nice.
Mark rolled with it. “Sure! If I can watch. I wanted to make weapons for my team but they all went to bed.”
“I’ll buy a sword when I can, Mark,” Kandon said, strongly. “And if the metal for it comes from Addavein, then I really don’t care. I just can’t pay you for it.”
Mark stood suddenly straight. Maybe he didn’t know Mark was adamantium blooded… which was fine?
Kandon raised an eyebrow as he saw Mark flinch. He almost said something about Addavein, or whoever—
But Mark handed over the sword, avoiding further conversation about all of that, lying-by-omission, “Sure.”
Kandon was like a baller that had just gotten the football; he brightened and focused and then told the room, “I’ll be back in 30 minutes! Alert me if the kaijus move our way at all.”
Some guy at the controls, who was reading something off of his phone, spoke up without looking up, “Sure thing, boss!”
Kandon giggled a little as he ran toward a winding staircase leading up.
… Mark followed, he supposed. Kandon seemed in his own world right now.
- - - -
Mark held on to the roof of Grey Whale with some small caltrops wedged into nooks and edges, wind whipping past him. The world was trying to brush him off of the ship, but Mark was not having it. He was secure, and not that cold. The noise was incredible, but the sight even more so.
Mark had never seen a martial kaiju killer up close, or rather, from 20 meters away. He had only ever seen those guys and gals on the screen, and they were almost always the Big Damn Hero. Mark wanted to be the Big Damn Hero, too. And this, right here, was why. Mark saw Kandon, a martial-based kaiju killer, practicing under the nightly auroras.
It was like watching a master at his craft. It was mesmerizing.
Kandon danced across the roof of the Grey Whale, the black sword, like a fragment of true night, carving the wind as Kandon carved the world with his body. He moved without care of any impediment at all, leaping and twisting and coming down to the roof of Grey Whale in spirals, tumbles, and crashes that did not break anything at all, for his Skills were True Brawny, which was already practically telekinetic, and also Telekinesis. There was no way he would ever get blown away by the wind. The wind was just a good practice zone for him. Kandon was in control.
Mark only stopped watching when he felt a pair of vectors coming up from the tunnel behind him.
Mark turned and saw Sam Ranger, Nightbolt, and some other guy who was the flyer Mark had seen at the gym, who had rescued that mithril guy who went flying.
“Hey Mark!” Sam said. “We heard Kandon was practicing with a fancy new sword.” He introduced the guy to his side, saying, “This is Lee Windhopper, Sky Shaper.”
Lee nodded. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hello, Sam.” Mark nodded to Lee. “Nice to meet you, Lee. I saw you catch some guy who went flying at the gym earlier. You’re fast!”
Lee grinned a little. “I try. Now if you don’t mind!” He hefted a golfbag-like container of silver swords that were mirrors of each other. They still looked a little drippy with alchemical silver, perhaps. Lee only had eyes for Kandon, his vector focused. “I have been trying to get that bastard to come out and spar with me for a week now.”
Lee spoke like an old friend to Kandon. Maybe he was? Mark didn’t know.
Lee took to the air like the air wasn’t a river rushing over them all, and he floated out to see Kandon.
Sam was there, smiling a little, looking outward, at the spar.
For a moment, Mark thought that he would end up talking to Sam, but no. That’s not what happened at all. Because Lee spun out several silver swords from his bag of them and Mark ended up watching, enthralled, as Lee danced in the air with weaponry, and with Kandon, who sliced apart sword after silver sword with Mark’s black sword. Lee’s weapon pieces didn’t scatter on the wind, for Lee was in control of the wind now. Those bits of silver swords flashed back to his golf bag, which had to be an artifact of some sort, because the pieces recombined into fresh swords.
Kandon was having a grand time. Mark heard laughter.
Lee was having fun, too.
Both of them were also in the middle of a personal war against each other. Their fight was more than just a spar, except that’s all it really was. Mark imagined that it was Sally and him sparring out there.
Kandon showed he was in complete control of the fight, though. He started striking at Lee’s broken swords, turning metal into glitter that could not recombine at all.
Eventually, Lee ran out of swords and reluctantly called it quits.
That’s when Mark realized he was hanging with the big guys, now. Sam Ranger, Lee the wind guy, and Kandon Valen, all kaiju killers, all people Mark would be supporting in fights, soon enough. Mark offered healing to both of them as they came in from the spar, and Kandon gladly accepted, and Lee reluctantly accepted, but Kandon slapped Lee on the shoulders and the mood improved. Lee didn’t like losing, but neither of them were really going all out, of course.
“I could totally take you in a real fight,” Lee said. “Just lift you off the ground and toss you around for a few hundred kilometers.”
Kandon laughed. “Maybe we can have a real fight in a few years, Lee, after we get to know each other more.”
Lee scoffed.
Mark realized that they didn’t know each other at all, but they were still just friendly like that.
Sam suggested a hot meal at the mess hall, and Mark had no problems accepting that offer, and taking his sword back from Kandon.
“I mean it now!” Kandon said, over a bunch of chicken strips and potatoes, “I want to buy one of those off of you, Mark!”
Sam and Lee both laughed, and Mark chuckled along, unsure why they were laughing.
Sam noticed, and he told Mark, “He can’t buy dragon-adamantium.”
“It doesn’t have to be Addavein-derived,” Kandon said, gesturing to Mark. “He’s gonna find some other adamantium monsters to harvest. Aren’t you!”
“That’s the plan,” Mark said.
And then Lee asked Kandon, “So how are the allowances for monster hunting routes going to work? I don’t want to get stuck with bitch work. I want the good, money-making monster routes. The goblins and the trolls.”
Kandon hummed. Maybe he would have answered—
But Mark suddenly asked, “Hunting goblins are the good routes? … What?”
Sam told Lee, “We should just kill them all and not farm them. You tempt danger, Lee.”
Lee told Mark, “It’s because they gather up all the resources wherever they live. Kill a goblin horde and don’t die, and you can get all the riches of an area without having to actually mine or farm them yourself.”
Mark had a lot of unsure thoughts at that moment. Like, sure, kill all monsters.
But using monsters for a labor force seemed… beyond-the-Veil dangerous.
Kandon waved a hand, “We’re not discussing the extermination of competing species, but I do know how we’re allocating expensive, non-sentient monster discoveries, and that starts with how many contribution points you want to spend for first crack at a big monster, versus the danger of the monster...”
The conversation meandered as Mark ate a midnight meal with the big boys.