The first thing he could do was through A’Atla’s interface: the ship had a large network of mana sensors. They could detect any large-scale use of spellcasting. There were similar sensors for high-speed projectiles; guns definitely counted.
There were ways to limit or block both, but they weren’t available to Serenity. There wasn’t anywhere near enough mana available, even if he tried to limit the suppression to a small area. The feature simply wasn’t available even though he could see it existed. It was possible it was damaged, as well; he couldn’t even get it to run a diagnostic routine at the current mana level.
Instead, Serenity used the interface to set up some alerts. Unless he was lucky, he wouldn’t be able to interfere in fights when they started, but he could move a lot faster in A’Atla’s underground than people could move aboveground and there were a lot more exits available now that he knew what to look for. Teleportation might be even more useful, though it had its own limits.
He couldn’t make any true enchanted items, but he could take advantage of Evoker to do the next best thing: storing spells in items to avoid the cast time and spend the mana cost ahead of time, while he had time to recharge. Sure, they’d weaken as time passed and he’d have to guess which ones to have ready, but this was almost the perfect situation for it.
The only real question was whether he should take action as Serenity or as Tom Cooper; he could see some obvious advantages and drawbacks to both options.
His mother’s advice was to use both forms but to somehow differentiate them. That way, it would seem like Tom Cooper was strong and would be difficult to fight to take A’Atla while not making Serenity seem like a pushover. It would also reinforce the idea that they were different people, especially if he sometimes had “both” show up to a particular fight.
It wasn’t hard to decide how to split the identities. Serenity’s public persona had been seen with his armor and ax, but mostly he was known for his magic. He could make that his focus and use the ax as a backup.
To completely separate “Tom” from Serenity, he wanted to make Tom more physical. Since the ax wouldn’t work, he’d need to use his Crystal Hilt. It did leave him one problem, though: how was a physical fighter going to stop the fighting? Serenity’s magic could do all sorts of things, but what could he do that was different?
It took a little time to figure that out and it meant refining the concept a little. His Serenity persona could use “elemental” and death magic while “Tom” used aura. It might not be obvious to the outside observer, but to anyone who was in an aura it was very clear who the source was; more than that, none of these people would have ever felt a Tier Eight’s aura before. It should provide more than enough shock as long as the battlefield was small enough; at Tier Eight, that area was quite a bit bigger than it otherwise would have been.
The fact that the Crystal Hilt was a manablade made the rest obvious; he’d lean into the concept of a “psychic warrior”. Not a Jedi, though he was certain some people would assume that; he definitely didn’t want the baggage that came with pretending to belong to a religion. It did mean he’d want to stay away from magic that looked like lightning and the color red, but he was planning to avoid lightning already. The robes he had were really too ornate for a Jedi, as well.
The concept of a fighter who disdained armor and used only their hands or a weapon, often a sword, was known in other cultures but seemed more popular on Earth than Serenity remembered it being in reality. Of course, he didn’t count people who wore “robes” that were in reality massively enchanted cloth armor. That wasn’t avoiding armor; it looked like it, but it was really just throwing money at the problem to get a little more flexibility. Throwing the same money at real armor would get you notable better protection.
Serenity paused. That was exactly what he should do: enchant his robes. Well, not really enchant, bespell. There was a large difference. Bespelled robes would only last until the spell gave way; the spell had to be recast every time he wanted to use it. On the other hand, he knew the spells to cast and the robes themselves would be the perfect item to infuse the spell into until it was needed; he could recast it between fights.
It was a good thing Rissa had talked him into getting a few sets because the fancy fighting robes “looked hot on her warrior prince.” He hadn’t had a chance to wear them for her yet; maybe this was a good time. He’d have to ask her which would be best.
Wait, had she made him buy them because she’d seem them in a vision?
Naah, that was ridiculous. There were a lot of other options he could have gone with if he hadn’t had the martial robes. Next he was going to be wondering if she’d picked up those kitchen knives because she’d had a vision of using them or something! They’d done a lot of shopping on the way to Earth; city portals were often near markets and they had both money and a way to move stuff.
The amusing thought that he could be a pretty good traveling merchant if he cared for it, solely on the power of his Rift’s ability to carry things, crossed Serenity’s mind. It wasn’t something he thought he’d ever actually do.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
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Liam dove back into the building he’d just stepped out of when he heard the sharp crack of a gun firing. It wasn’t quite the same as his escort’s Skills … and there they were. A roar and a hiss; his escorts today were a fairly traditional Fire mage, a wind-based swordsman, and two soldiers that were simply really tough. Their job was to protect him and the artifacts, at least when there were artifacts. There weren’t any yet today.
He could still remember back to the early days, when there was no open fighting. That was only a couple of months ago, but it seemed like far longer. He still didn’t understand the fighting; they were arguing over scraps, the leavings that were abandoned on the surface and somehow happened to still be here, when the true treasures were locked away somewhere.
Whether it was in vaults, libraries, or simply in the houses of nobles and businesses, the important things weren’t the simple stuff they were fighting over now. They needed a large group that could do the years-long work of finding it and deciphering it; this small-scale shit was interesting and probably useful in the short term, but it definitely wasn’t worth the fights.
This was the third fight Liam had been in this week and it was only Thursday!
A heavy pressure descended on Liam. He felt himself being pushed to the ground. He let it happen; this was far too large and powerful to fight. He knew this was a single being and that the single being was far more powerful than he was. He also knew that the being exerting the pressure was irritated but not truly angry.
The fighting had stopped. It was no wonder with the pressure, the sheer disappointment that weighed Liam down. He fought with himself and managed to move far enough to see out the doorway; that should be almost as safe right now, and he badly wanted to see what was going on.
At first, Liam thought the figure walking in from the distance was a woman in a dress, but as it got closer, he was able to see that it was a man wearing some kind of a robe or cloak belted over a more ordinary outfit; the robe or cloak was dyed green, while the outfit underneath was darker, either a very dark green or black. It was a striking look, especially since the man himself was extremely pale. He was so pale that it was hard to make out his features, but his eyes were not pale; they were all colors at the same time. He was so obviously not human that Liam had to suppress a shiver despite the feeling that came off of him. What was hidden under the robe?
If he’d had wings, Liam might have thought him an angel. He wasn’t the sort of angel that you’d see in modern movies; instead, he was an angel that had to tell those who saw him not to be afraid when they saw him.
Somehow, Liam didn’t think that was the message this angel brought.
“That is enough.” The man’s words weren’t just audible; they rumbled deeper than that, deep enough that Liam thought he could hear them with his bones as much as his ears. “I have waited long enough; cease your fighting. This time, I only offer a warning: stop. You have worn my patience thin.”
The voice was familiar; Liam paled a little when he finally put it together with the pale skin and odd eyes. This was Tom Cooper or a very close relative. Realistically, he was certain that it was Cooper himself; the man was pleasant and cheerful but Liam had noticed that he was increasingly annoyed whenever the subject of fighting on A’Atla came up, even though he was willing to talk about fighting elsewhere.
He’d chalked the man’s annoyance up to him being the owner of A’Atla. That might well be the reason; it would certainly explain why he was taking such an extreme action now. Liam hoped it would work out; if he really could put a lid on the squabbles, it might be easier to get things done on A’Atla.
Tom Cooper’s words were barely gone when Liam heard the unmistakable sound of a rifle. It was a single shot; he expected to see the man at least wince, whether he was a powerful human, an angel, or a devil. Even with body armor, gunshots weren’t pleasant.
There was an odd sound that reminded Liam more of a car accident than a gunshot. That had to be the bullet hitting something, but it wasn’t the right sound. Unlike a movie, Liam had no idea where the bullet hit or even if it hit more than one thing.
Cooper turned slightly, then jumped. It was not a jump Liam would have believed if he hadn’t seen it in person; he rose well over his own height in the air and covered at least six times that distance from a standing start. Even as he jumped, he pulled something off his belt and lit it.
Liam actually laughed when he saw the man was holding a lightsaber. Oh, the details were off, but it was still obviously a blade made of energy. It shone in many colors, just like Cooper’s eyes.
It was slightly less funny when Cooper removed the rifle from the enemy’s hands by removing his hands, along with a fair bit of both arms and the tip of his nose. Liam thought the blade pulsed a bright red as it hit the man; he saw that the injuries themselves were blackened as though they’d been in a fierce fire.
“You’ll survive if you get medical assistance fast enough. A good healer may even be able to help you recover the use of your hands, though I don’t know why they’d bother. Attack me again and I will not be so merciful. That goes for all of you.” Cooper took a step back from the injured man, then vanished as though he’d never been there. The immense pressure vanished with him.
Liam was still trying to figure out what he thought of Cooper when the group arrived back at the outer camp that evening with the handful of things they’d managed to find. One of Liam’s guards thought it “looked like something from a cultivation novel,” whatever that was, while everyone else agreed it was straight out of Star Wars.
Liam couldn’t shake the impression that the scene was somehow staged. The pressure was definitely real and more than a little terrifying; it was disabling if Cooper could use it when he wanted to. The injuries were real enough and Cooper’s feelings seemed natural as well, but why was an expert on magic using a sword, even an energy sword, as his primary attack?