Chapter 78

The Hissy Fit

Have you ever had one of those moments where it is a serious situation, you know it is supposed to be serious, but you can’t quite take it seriously due to the way everyone is reacting. I think the best example I can come up with is you are dealing with a child who found out their cookie they were eating broke, or worse someone has a better cookie, so they go and throw a fit, but they look ridiculous while doing so. As the adult, you know this is serious, that they truly mean it, their cookie is no longer the best and they want the cookie that someone else got instead, but you can’t give them the other cookie, so you just have to sit there and watch the drama unfold, all the while you try to be as calming as possible, without absolutely laughing at them, which will only make it worse. Well, I seem to have found myself in such a predicament.

This Duelist challenged me to a friendly spar, during which they were sloppy with their magic, and I worked my way through their defenses and was going to work my way through their overly armored defenses and simply tag them with a Dispel. He then did something, may a Disrupt attack to my Dispel, but rather than putting in the necessary concentration to truly stop my tag, he basically caused my Dispel, to go crazy and wipe out the enchantments on his overly magical armor.

Now he is angry, and rather than accepting the fact that I won round one of our little spars, as the system indicated, he is now going wild. And I do mean wild. His magical form that had been weak before was almost nonexistent now. His spells lacked cohesion and were more or less hurled in my general direction, this was great for me, as all I needed to do to avoid his high-powered attacks was simply take a quick step to the right and poof, instant crater where I had once stood. None of this is the funny part that I was talking about, this had been the semi-serious backdrop as those spells likely would hurt, if they landed, and despite my being a healer, I still don’t like to feel pain, thus my attempts to do everything I can to avoid pain at all costs.

“How are you able to avoid my spell mastery.” Trigon, the duelist calls out in complete seriousness.

Now this, this is where I lost it. I know, as a former parent, I should have a had a better game face, been able to handle these words better, but his comments were just so random, and wrongly egotistical, that I couldn’t help but chuckle, loudly.

Cackle.

Yes, I found myself cackling at the comment, not the evil old witch in the forest cackle, but the young princess cackle, at least that is what I hoped, though I might be a bit biased on this take. Anyways, I will admit there was a cackle, and it might or might not have added to the anger of the Duelist. Though rather than giving him clarity of mind to actually focus, he instead just started channeling more and more energy through his meridians, far more energy than his tiny meridians could actually handle.

It was at this moment that quite a few things clicked in my mind. First seeing him and his tiny meridians let me realize that comparatively speaking I had much larger meridians, at least twice the size of his, meaning with my higher levels I was able to create denser streams of mana to Dispel and counteract his blatant, this is no longer a friendly spar, attacks.

At this point the second revelation clicked in, and I realized the reason he might have gone for the Duelist class, might have been as a way to compensate for his tiny meridians. Not that tiny meridians implied anything else about him, but one did have to wonder, especially given the way he seemed to now be overly compensating for his lack of size with just flooding streams of mana forward that he only managed to weave an aspect into just before the mana left his zone of control. Of course, there was so little resonance, and the spell was put together so haphazardly that countering the spells was the equivalent of smacking a toddler’s hand as they tried to reach past you and grab a cookie, or something else that you took away from them.

“You are going to burst your meridians at this rate.” I state, and this is where my third revelation came to be, though it took quite a bit longer than I would have hoped to fully grasp it, as it was more or less at the conceptual stage at this point, but here in this moment, this duel, this is where the basis for a theory began to populate in my mind. Still, this is a secondary concern, that I kind of want to get back to, but for the moment I must deal with the equivalent of a cranky toddler with a blowtorch, seriously who gives out magic willy-nilly to people? Oh wait, the game, the same game that let me buy my way to Tier VII magic right off the bat.

“I will burst you.” Trigon said, in what had to be one of the worst quips, and again, it was just so odd and random, that I had to laugh, yes laugh not cackle this time. Though despite keeping a bit of composure, and not cackling, it still had the same effect on the duelist. Seeing me still laughing, silently to myself, he flipped his ever-loving mind.

“How dare you!” Trigon shouted, and then he did something, I am not quite certain, but it looked like he wanted to pull the magical equivalent of the Hail Mary, where he tried to release and burn the rest of his mana in a sort of pyrokinetic flame from the palm of his hands. Now the only problem with such a type of spell as one might imagine is that one you kind of need control, or else flames will go everywhere, and second, you have to be close to said target, before what little control over the flames and mana you do have is beyond your range to control. Taking two quick steps back, I avoided the flames, but still had up a defensive net in front of me, should the mage prove to be somewhat intelligent and try to mask their true attack of a fireball by surrounding it in a sea of flames. Of course, no fireball came, and within seconds the last burst of the Duelists’ mana burnt away in an overly dramatic, if ineffective burst of flames.

Panting.

The Duelist was panting, this would be expected from anyone that had pushed themselves to their limits, the way he had. He had gone all out for what, two and a half minutes? That was something, at least it was longer than my ex, and at least this Duelist hasn’t gone to sit in front of the big screen watching the local sporting events right when he was done, so progress, right?

“You, how did you…” The Duelist began, before pure exhaustion took him, and he collapsed to the ground.

With the Duelists’ little tantrum over, people began to come out of their rooms where they had been watching the events of the duel unfold. Each looked to be shocked at the fact that here I was relatively unscathed with the proud Duelist laying passed out face forward not twenty paces away.

“Is, is he dead?” Pierre, my companion who helped show me the way here asked.

I just turn, and give what I hope is my best, are you kidding me look, before answering. “No, he just burned through his mana at a rate his body couldn’t handle and passed out from exhaustion.”

I could hear and see other people within my bubble around me begin to whisper and talk amongst themselves.

“I don’t know, he looks pretty out of it.” Someone whispered behind me. The person they were talking to nodded their head emphatically. I could almost feel the need to Teleport out of here coming, but fortunately that was solved, when the duelist, Trigon BiFrost, started snoring, loudly.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Hanannwnk, wheeze.

At that sound, two things were readily apparent, the first was that Trigon was in fact alive, as I had claimed. The second was that apparently small meridians might not be the only reason why the Duelist might find himself lonely tonight. Though again, now that I had time to think about it, my moment of clarity from earlier came back to me. In the moment of clarity, I felt that the Tier rating of one’s magical potential might be directly proportional to the size of their meridians. Just having this thought, caused the hairs on the back of my neck to grow. The thought made sense, as the game world we were in clearly had a way of quantifying the different Tiers, and the difference in Tier ratings was readily apparent to most people, particularly the higher level you got, where the margin of victory over people your own level becomes increasingly smaller and smaller. That is where things like gear, Tier rating, and the like all come into play and have a profound impact on the way events are settled. But if I can prove this, I will be…

And that is where I realize, I might have my thesis for my magical master’s degree. At that I pause, as I wonder if this is just an aspect of my analytical mind at work, that was fueled by my own past life knowledge of what hard work and effort went into proving a master’s level of knowledge on any subject, but with this theory, I could also evolve it to a doctorate, if I pressed on. With this, I sort of knew that the degrees wouldn’t be just empty platitudes meant to incentivize me to reach higher levels, with following these thoughts to their logical conclusions, I could very well lead to a new understanding of magic as we know it. It is at this point that my mind latches onto those words, as I know I have heard them somewhere before, and then quickly looking through my long list of flaws, I find what I was looking for.

Racial Flaw: Children of a Magical Destiny: You and those of your lineage will be able to awaken, or enhance, the magical potential in those you meet (Maximum of Tier IX).

There in what is nearly clear as day, I see the message that proves I am capable of changing this world and the way it views magic. The flaw also gives me perfect insight into how I can prove my theory, by observing the meridian sizes of people both before, and after they are affected by my racial flaw, I can prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that there is at least some substance to my theory. That the game’s way of regulating the Tier rating and spell capacity of individuals is directly proportional to their meridian sizes. This means that in order to earn my masters, and likely doctoral degree, I will in fact have to live up to my racial flaw and be the usherer of a new magical destiny.

This reminded me to look at my own system notifications that I had avoided fully reading, as I was too busy preparing for round two of my duel with Trigon.

Quest Completed: Sparring with the Duelist: You sparred with Trigon BiFrost in a magical sparring contest. You competed in a single round magical duel, where any spell was allowed, and you were the first person to land a strike on the opponent’s body. Rewards for winning: Experience, New Class Unique Skill.

Experience Gained: 500 / 500.

Ding.

Level up.

Your level in Simulacrum Master has increased to level 83.

Class specific Skill unavailable at the moment.

I do have to admit, I was somewhat surprised, as this was the first time, I had not earned the skill described while in the course of completing the quest. Of course, some of this might have had to do with the fact that the skills I could learn are solely class specific skills, meaning only a true expert of the class, like the trainer could offer them as independent rewards. I guess this was good to know, as it meant that I too could offer up my own class unique skills as rewards to people who might do different tasks for me. Perhaps that was why this guy had been so insistent on these spars? But if that was the case, then why did he get so angry at the fact that I won our first spar? Or maybe it was the way I had won? Shaking my head, regardless, I will never be able to understand what caused this duelist to go off the way he did, until he awakens.

“So, what should we do with him?” Someone who looks to be the leader of this outpost asks, stepping forward and standing next to me. They are more than an arm’s length away, giving me plenty of space, but also letting them know that they are apparently talking to me directly.

“Let him sleep it off, he’s had a bad day, I guess.” I state, not quite knowing what the proper etiquette for winning a duel is.

“Really, you are sure, as the winner of an unsanctioned duel, you are eligible to all of his belongings.” The captain states.

“Oh, that is good to know, but I don’t think that is necessary, thank you.” I say, and am sort of tempted, but again with my Broke flaw taking anything always has the chance of directly coming back to bite me almost instantly in the form of negative karma, until I get back down to a basic level of finances. That is why I generally make it a point to not take too much advantage of a particular moment in time. The game does this, leaves out a nice slab of beef, and then slaps your hand when you try to take more than you are allowed. That is why I often find myself turning down these offerings out of habit more than anything else at this point.

Hearing my refusal to what are allegedly my goods, I am then met with another slew of system messages.

Critical Success!

Hidden Quest Complete: A New Duelist In Town: You were challenged by and handedly won a duel against a master in the craft. Rewards: Experience, Badge, New Title.

Experience Gained: 500 / 500.

New Feat Recorded: Magical Dueling Master (100): You managed to win a magical duel against a reported master in the field.

New Title: Magical Duelist: You are developing a reputation for being a winner of magical duels, this both makes you stand out more, while offering some benefits. Effect: +5% to all Magical Dueling Skills, +5% to all Social Attributes when you are recognized for your feats.

The sad part is that the five hundred experience I just got is considered little more than a drop in the bucket. It will now take over eight thousand experience points per level to raise my level by one, though it is good to keep getting experience. Another odd thing I’ve noticed is that the experience that my Simulacrum earns doesn’t synchronize with me, until I rest for the night. So, while my Simulacrum is slaving away, reading texts, being a good healer, and getting rid of over a million pounds of golden trash from the Guild Master’s office, I will not receive a drop of that delicious experience until I go to a safe spot and rest for the night. Still, that is a minor inconvenience, and something I am sort of thankful for, as it would be a pain to be in the middle of doing something when I receive random notifications for gaining ten experience here, or a hundred experience there. Now I get it all in one lump sum, and don’t have to worry about the breakdown from day to day. I assume the same holds true for my Simulacrum, meaning that they don’t get my experience until they too rest, though that does bring up a good question of whether they need to rest as well? I’ve seen them rest, but I think part of that could be that they are like me and thus inherently lazy, or not quite lazy, but willing to take long breaks when the time is right.

“Well in that case, we will take him back and put him in his barracks room, while he sleeps off, whatever this was.” The officer says.

I nod, and there is an awkward silence that fills the area for a moment, before the officer continues her train of thought.

“Name’s Tara, Commander Tara to those who fall under my protection. Though from what Pierre has told me, and what I just witnessed, I’m not too certain that you would necessarily need my protection.” The strong officer states, her posture giving way to a slightly nervous presence that is almost comical, given the fac that even in this human form, she towers over me. Yet, size isn’t everything, well unless it relates to meridians, then I think size matters. But this game has a way of setting size as but a minor factor in most day-to-day situations.

“Ca…can you call me Sabrina?” I ask, hopefully covering for my near flub of revealing my true identity to this commander. Not that it would really take too much of a detective, considering the way all my Titles apparently follow me around as an undeniable proof that I am a Master Trainer for two completely unique classes. Classes that others might want and thus look to track down the semi-elusive trainer for.

“Sure, thing Sabrina.” Another awkward pause, before she continues, “so what brings you here in the first place?”

I am about to answer, when I get a mental burst communication from my Simulacrum. There are only two words, but they are the words that send my entire world into a tailspin. Seeing them, I immediately hold up a finger to the leader of this fort, and ask, “sorry about this, do you have a privy?”

The look on the commander’s face changes from shock to a near smile. “Sure, right this way. When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go, I guess.”

With that she takes me to a lone wooden outhouse in the exact middle of the fort. Nodding to the commander I nod to her, then double check the message, and seeing what it says, I almost let out a whoop of excitement, before catching myself and preparing for what needs to happen next. The message is short, sweet, and to the point.

“It’s here.”