Luck, both good and bad, has existed long before the Nalks, but feel free to blame them if something goes wrong, I know I do ^^

Me: Almost done with the chapter…

Dad: I need your help

Me: In a few?

Dad: Now, it will not take long

*2 hours later*

Dad: Thanks for the assistance!

Me: I love you, but your timing physically hurts T_T

Chapter 36: Luck

“NoEs’ rot Jorgensen, why are you here?”

“What?” He asked in a voice that said he was personally hurt by question. I barely kept from sneering at his tone as he continued. “Am I not allowed to observe the latest type of entertainment to grace the city?”

I kept my tone even as I stared him in the eyes. Technically I was lucky that he was here, but the fact that any lucky incidents could be Nalk interference left me on edge. Jorgensen’s pudgy face stared at me over his shoulder and looked foolish, but it did nothing to hide the intellect I knew lurked behind his bright green eyes. “It is a sword contest and you hardly seem the type.” I stated evenly.

“I might not bounce around swinging those barbarous instruments, but there is no reason I cannot enjoy watching others do it. Now, would you like to sit and enjoy some food with me or just stand there and be gloomy?” He finished with a little pout that sent a shiver of disgust through me.

I took down the ward I had set up and went around the table of food to another empty seat. Jorgensen had already made decent headway into the food present and grabbed another handful of lychees while I looked on. I was not totally sure, but his stomach alone might contain more fat than my whole body combined, even with my new lumps of fat which made up my (grudgingly created) breasts.

They were useful as storage and let me seem this body’s actual age. “We need to talk.”

“Of course we do, but it can wait until after this match, surly?” Jorgensen responded offhandedly, pulling a bowl over to put the rough skins from the lychees into. “Help yourself to the food, I love these lychee things, though they are quite expensive if you cannot grow them yourself.”

I looked over the table of food. He had quite the variety ranging from tropical fruit to what I recognized as maize, which was primarily grown close to the central continent. He even had a few baked avotatoes, which I quickly grabbed, before turning to the match and studiously ignoring the slurping sounds from the individual next to me.

I used magic to check the food for poison while I briefly analyzed the match. Currently it was one of the semi-finals and had two fairly skilled young men going at each other. Dras was up in the next fight so I only paid half-hearted attention to them, critiquing their movements in my head.

I might have been able to kill both of them together in a swordfight, but that was mostly because of experience. Those 2 were concentrating too much on their practiced forms and while they were accomplished in those, the few feints they attempted had tells that I could spot from up in the private boxes.

Granted that partly because of the enchanted glass that covered the covered a large part of the wall. It only allowed one way sight and would automatically change based on where the individuals who wore the enchanted armor of the fighters. As a result, it would always show both participants and make the image seem to close in as they did.

Most of the competitors were very young men or teenagers who wanted personal fame more than anything else. I knew that many viewed it as an outlet for over energetic young men, but learning the sword was not something the average blacksmith’s son did. Many of the youths who wanted to enter this particular tournament were young officers who wanted to show off, but apparently a something happened in the city of Haereticus to the southwest.

A few entered as something of a job exhibition as the 2 mercenary guilds (SRM and regular) sometimes sent scouts looking for talent, however in the end I saw fame seekers first and foremost… Which brought up the question of why Dras was here, as he never struck me as that type.

I shook my head as I ate the baked avotatoes, the Sisters served them every few days, but I never seemed to get tired of them. It was to the extent that I snuck a few at night and wondered how Moth- how Elizabeth and Carlatus were doing.

The match finished up fairly quickly, with someone managing to maneuver his opponent into a corner and knock him across the head with his hilt. After that, the blunted sword stabbed into his opponent’s gut, making the other wheeze and the enchanted armor glowed red to signal a defeat. Even with the armor and dull blade the loser was left groaning while holding where the stab connected.

Applause and stomping feet erupted, but were greatly reduced in noise because of the wards around the room. “Nicely done.” Jorgensen commented, “Are you going to enter one of these later?”

I shook my head, “Besides the fact that I am a mage and that would draw too much attention, everyone would make a fuss over a girl fighting.” I gave Jorgensen a meaningful look, but he just gave me a knowing smile. I created a new privacy ward and added “I hope that you did not give me this little assignment thinking that it was completely impossible.”

“I do find the way you make these wards interesting, especially the way you make them just around someone’s head. It is to counter anyone using one of those new recording magical devices is it not?” Jorgensen kept that same smile on his face. “Anyway, it would be so much easier to just give in you know, I promise that I will be quite gentle and you only have so long before your body sets into its current form.”

I kept my killing intent from leaking partly out of habit and partly out of the fear that it would become bloodlust instead. “That is not going to happen.”

He pouted, “You seem like the adventuresome sort, someone who likes to push new boundaries, so why are you so stubborn about one night in my bed?”

I stared him in the eyes and willed his soul to burn. I had walked that path in my previous life for the sake of those I cared about, but I would not go there again if I could avoid it. “Our deal was for the knowledge of how the rituals work so I assume that you do not actually need one of their physical scrolls?”

That managed to wipe the smile off of his face as he finally turned professional. “I would either need the actual scroll, if it is kept in such, or for you to memorize and confirm the ritual for me. I have to know it is real, or anything you hand me is worthless, do you understand?”

I grimaced, that would make things more difficult, but not impossible. “Would the magical device I told you about before work?”

“The instant picture device? No, from what I know of it, you could fake the scroll and make copies of that fake on the image. I need to know that it is real and will work. If you want me to produce a magically binding contract to that extent I am happy enough to do so, but if I recall correctly you were apprehensive about them.”

I nodded and noticed out of the corner of my eye that Dras was preparing to go into his match. “I will do what it takes, but I would rather not sign one of those if I could avoid it. How soon can you be ready?”

“The spell is already prepared and I have a spare contract that can be used if it comes to that.” He paused and put his annoying smile back on, as he clearly understood that the conversation was ending, “They were both created by the same man, interestingly enough.”

I shrugged, “You might want to be prepared for my knock in the night sometime soon, although I am not sure when exactly. In fact,” I noticed that the match was about to begin, “I might leave tonight if things go well.”

“I will look forward to your company then.”

I ignored his comment and its underlying suggestion while I destroyed the ward. As the match actually started I observed Dras’ technique as best as I could with the enchanted glass.

Some people like to divide sword techniques up based on styles, but I never learned those beyond the basic techniques that my father taught me. I had given Dras some advice back in Entrials about the way the human body worked, but I never actually taught him to fight.

Where I got lucky enough to train my body and instinctive reactions from scratch, Dras had already picked up some bad habits and I did not stick around Entrials to see if he removed them all. It turned out, however, that he made a darn good attempt.

His opponent seemed to have a fast pace style that may have been tailored to duels like this, where just light contact could lead to victory, but Dras leveraged his body. As a result, the fight quickly seemed to turn into a typical clash of a large brawler versus a small fighter, where stamina would determine the winner.

Not wanting to appear too invested in Dras as a person, I commented on the fight to the slug (apologies slugs) next to me. “This is why I like some of the fights despite my healing talents, some people learn how to leverage their whole body and apply maximum force. I do not like that they have to fight each other to learn how to do it, but I can still appreciate it to some extent.”

“I am less familiar with the body myself, but is that larger man really putting his entire force behind his attacks? Neither appear to be straining themselves.”

I hid the fact that I was impressed and nodded impassively. “The smaller one is just trying to make contact hard enough to register a ‘wound’ while the other is using his body very efficiently. Neither is using their whole strength though, probably because they are worried about overextending or something.”

“You sound familiar with the subject. Though it looks like the larger one wants to end this sooner rather than later.”

“It is a matter of balance,” I commented absently, noticing that Dras was indeed starting to pick up speed. It was slow and steady, but noticeable. What drew my attention though was the lack of apparent effort that went into it.

It might have been a result of simple training, but I had added some desecrate minor changes to Dras’ body, so I watched him closely. Nothing I did should have majorly increased his physical ability, but I did enough minor improvements that I suddenly felt the urge to check up on him.

Regrettably, I was known as Stella here and I did not need to give the Sisters a starting point when they started sending people to track me.

Dras’ sword was still getting faster at this point and he was almost moving like a twister. I was impressed that he was actually keeping in step with his various forms throughout, he must have practiced quite a bit to be able to do that.

Then the real surprise came as his opponent tried repeatedly to deflect Dras’ sword. He did not just fail, but actually seemed to be blown farther and farther away with each attempt. Eventually Dras managed to knock the man off balance and quickly struck him in the ribs.

His opponent’s armor turned red immediately and the person in question went down grabbing at his ribs in obvious pain and the ward automatically started to return to normal vision as it confirmed the end of the match.

I gave a quiet whistle and nodded my approval. “How long until the finally?” I asked absently.

“It depends on the last winner,” Jorgensen explained, helping himself to a plate of cheese, “He can have up to 3 times the amount of time that match took to rest. Of course, he would normally get more, but since this is a one day tournament and there is only one area available,” He shrugged and called for that servant of his.

I had not bothered learning the man’s name, but Jorgensen clearly trusted the man to remain loyal so I only watched him enough to ensure he did not add anything to the food. I was distracted however, by the cheers of the crowd and I realized that Dras was remaining in the area in full gear.

“Oh! Now this is rare, most people do not go for a second round without break, even early on, but especially not into the finals. Maybe he has some sort of strategy? Or is he just that hungry for fame? I wonder.”

I blinked a few times in shock and waved away the servant as he offered me a full jug. I kept track of him even as a part of my mind tried to come up with Dras’ reason. I never got comfortable with the idea that servants should be invisible and deliberately kept track of him even as my mind raced to comprehend what Dras was doing.

Then a thought popped into my head. “Can we get a closer look at-” I almost said Dras by accident, but I changed it to “-that man?” at the last second.

“Hum? I believe so,” Jorgensen reached out with his mana and manipulated the wards slightly before they magnified Dras’ image.

He was sweating quite a lot, but no more than I would expect given his match. In fact he seemed to be sweating less than normal. I watched his neck as closely as possible and tried to guess his heart rate, but it was difficult and if I had to guess, very low. He did seem to be bouncing on his heals though.

“He was stretching.” Despite my self-control, my voice gave away how surprised I was.

Jorgensen said nothing, but the servant left the room as I looked the enlargement of Dras. It was only after the servant was gone that he spoke, “that would be quite the feat. How sure are you?”

“Only vaguely, I confess, but what I do not understand is the how. His muscular build should not lend itself to being that fit.” I talked half to myself and half to Jorgensen, more just saying the concepts aloud than expecting feedback. “I could be wrong of course, there are many different people in the world, but we all have the same basic muscular and bone structures.”

“Except for you.” Jorgensen said quietly.

I answered his unspoken question with a temporary ward for privacy and a blatant lie. “I never modified him. He might have received someone else’s help, but it would be very limited in comparison to my own bodily changes.” I had to tell Jorgensen about my modified body in case it interfered with the gender changing spell.

He offered me a special deal if I told him how it was done, but I could not explain the details of how I constructed the spell to someone else. Primarily because the spells I used to modify my own body were based off of information that should not be known to me, or anyone else in this world.

In a society which was barely understanding that boiling water made it safe to drink, I created spells based off of organelles and DNA. Trying to explain how they worked would either get more than a few hard questions, or an outright branding as an insane person.

I could eventually heal the branding, but it would still be extremely painful.

Not that the modifications to my own body had helped me a great deal so far. After all, it had only increased my caloric intake and all my fights had been magic or Gía based so far. So I kept that knowledge to myself as much as possible, but I still kept an eye out for more ways to improve my own body.

“Yet another reason that I find you so interesting.” Jorgensen commented.

I turned to him and kept my face as neutral as possible. “With respect Jorgensen, the only reason you are interested in me in the first place is the power trip you would get off of convincing me to give in to you.”

His face took on an unpleasant look. “I do enjoy that aspect of my conquests,” we both shivered slightly, only my shiver was one of disgust, “but I do find you a unique challenge.”

“Keep living in your head Jorgensen, it will never happen otherwise. Anyway,” I deliberately sat down in my previous seat as he recovered from his fantasy enough to reset the ward. I also manipulated the privacy ward to track my movements. “As long as you remember to keep up your end of the deal without any additional demands or attempted renegotiations. We will get along just fine.”

Jorgensen scowled and turned to look at me so fast that his body seemed to ripple from the movement. “I never break a deal once it is made, so long as both parties adhere to it, and I will thank you to never suggest otherwise. Besides you are the one who demanded that I take not just 1 or 2, but 4 different diseases prior to actually undergoing the spell.”

“Diseases that have no known cure and will cause a painful death that not even the Sisters can stop,” I reminded him.

“Oh course, how could I forget? Has anyone ever told you that you are just a bit paranoid little girl?”

I smiled at him for the first time that day, “Not as many lately, I regret.” I destroyed the ward and picked at some of the fruit as I waited for the final match to start.

It did not take long for it to start, or for my theory to be proven correct. Dras moved his sword like a twister, always spinning and never seeming to stop his movements. The semi-finals had been a warm up for him and now that he had stretched, his blows seemed to come even faster and harder than before.

This opponent was actually slightly bigger than Dras and much more mechanical in his various sword forms, but he was also solid enough in them to match Dras’ strength. To several people’s surprise, including Dras’s opponent, Jorgensen, and my own, the fight seemed to be completely bias as Dras brought down his blows faster and harder as time went on.

While I was watching, a memory came to the front of my mind, either by random access or Bella, it was hard to tell. I told Dras to not let other Healers examine his body too closely, that I was modifying his body slightly and it could lead to unpleasant questions. I especially remembered telling him not to use health potions for around a cycle if he could help it.

I also emphasized that if his body was still changing to be careful because certain Healing magic would undo my changes and might even kill him. However, all the changes should have ended some time ago unless something went seriously wrong.

I started sweating while thinking of Dras back in the Sister’s healing area and stood up. “I have a feeling that this is going to end badly.” I commented to Jorgensen and quickly left the box before he could respond.

I was downstairs and just walking up to a side entrance into the area proper when the crowd erupted in cheers and foot thumping. Quietly stepping forward far enough to see Dras holding his sword up, I confirmed that he was the victor.

Unlike what I let Jorgensen think, I was more interested in examining Dras than I actually thought that anyone might need my help. The entire way down here I tried to work out a feasible plan for getting near enough to him to check his body’s condition. Maybe it was the Nalks, or fate, or just temporary insanity, but his opponent lost his mind for a moment as I was trying to work out my plan.

Charging Dras from behind, his opponent screamed as he launched a sloppy overhead chop at Dras. Dras himself heard the scream and turned back to the man, naturally letting his sword lower, before recognizing the danger he was in and trying to dodge at the last possible moment. Dras also brought his hands up to presumably try and block the dulled sword with his own, but he only succeeded in getting both his wrist and his head hit.

Someone finally activated the wards and restrained the fool, but Dras’ head was already bleeding, along with his arms. He started stumbling in my direction, likely on either instinct to get to the nearest medical treatment area, or because he noticed me.

Of course, I could be wrong as there was a Sister who was supposed to be ‘on hand’ to see to any major injuries on the opposite side of the arena. She seemed to be squawking something at Dras, but a few guards accidentally blocked her as they rushed to take care of Dras’ former opponent.

Having the wards use magic was probably more expensive than just risking the lives of a guard or 2, so as soon as Dras was out of the way, they stopped restraining the other one with wards.

I thought about casting a small illusion spell to add another layer of deception to keep Dras from recognizing me, but then I remembered what I looked like currently. Not only did I have regular ears and brown eyes, but I had changed my facial structure a little to be wider. To top it all off, I was dressed in the cloths of a Sister in training, which were so covering that they reminded me of the winter gear I used to wear in the mountains.

If Dras could recognize me off of anything it might be my posture or something about the way my magic felt. Consequently, I slouched as Dras made it to the side entrance and just out of sight of the crowd before I knocked him out with a simple stun spell.

I immediately bent down and caught him before he hit the ground, letting my talent flow into him as I did so.

The problem, beside the minor concussion and blood loss was the prototype version of my genetic recorder, which I originally used to take care of his annoying degenerative disease. Specifically, the improvised version of my genetic recoder was still active in his body, making sure that some of the various ‘enhancements’ were working effectively.

In fact, in many ways his body was working too effectively as it was almost at my own level. At least I could explain most of that though, as magic was at least in part dictated by the mental expectations of the wielder. I joked about ritual spells being mostly belief, but splash spells were much of the same thing. Any vaguely phrased magical commands would work like that and the way Dras’ body adapted was impressive, but not totally unexpected.

It was the fact that my recoder was still active in his body that managed to confuse me. Not only was it a magical device that, while very efficient, still needed some level of mana intake to recharge the built in commands. Even without my deactivation command that should have turned it off after Dras’ body adapted, the recoder should have run out of mana. Though the reason it was still active became very obvious once I considered it.

Dras was a burnout and I created my genetic recoder to try and not only change the DNA sequence, but to also monitor critical failures and make smaller adjustments over the long term based on Dras’ genetic code. Apparently I had not phrased the magical commands correctly though as it started to view the burnout as a disease or injury and slowly started to repair the damage done to Dras’ mana channels.

Since it takes more than a few days to make sure that the human body both completed and adapted to the changes to the genetic sequence. As a result I manually confirmed the large changes to Dras’ body when I was at Entrials and I left the recoder to make sure that the changes stuck.

As it was, Dras was currently strong enough to qualify as a 2 circle mage, though I doubted that he could actually work mana with his pathways so still so damaged from the burn out. Given enough time he might learn some basic spells, but at just a 2 circle he would seem almost powerless in front of a full mage… I knew from personal experience.

Well now Dras, you certainly keep me busy, I thought grimly. I could hear the raised voices of some of Sisters not far away so I quickly went to work. At the current level, Dras’ body would likely heal to full health without worry, but this was a tournament and the Sisters would likely give him a small amount of healing potion just in case.

Since the healing potion would likely do some degree of damage to his body I quickly sent a spell into his body to reduce the swelling and then another to make sure that the wounds closed.

However, I still was left with the odd situation of how to explain the changes to Dras’ body while not being anywhere near him when he actually woke up. First thing though, I fully deactivated and destroyed what remained of my genetic recoder. It would have been nice to study it fully and see what worked and what did not, but I had no time.

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Then I sent one last, extremely specialized, spell into him as I heard the Sisters finally see me and start yelling at me.

“What did we tell you about using magic on others Stella?! If you do not know what you are doing then you will do far more harm than good and you are still a new initiate!” The Sister, whose name I did not bother remembering, yelled at me as she rushed forward.

I stood and stepped aside to let the sister pass as I tried to figure out how in the ovals to explain how a burnout had been healed.

I felt a bit of mana and grimaced internally as the Sister was likely discovering the remnants of old magic in his body, my magic. Fortunately, it would be nearly impossible for her to tell that the age of the remnants mana while they were mixed in with my newly cast spells.

If I managed to expand this accident into a cure for burnout… I was not sure how it would be received. The nobles would love the idea of more mages to use, but once they realized how specialized the weaker mages usually were it would likely draw the opposite reaction. After all, even a single circle sensitive could use a spell like snip and kill someone.

It could upset the balance of power and I could get stuck with the blame if I was not careful. Fortunately, I could use the same excuse I gave to throw Lady Rapier off my trail and blame it on Zugoran. It would definitely hurt my reputation to even be remotely associated with that ‘evil’ metal, but I only needed a few more days so I doubted that it could upset my plans too much.

“Stella, leave us alone, understood?” the Sister abruptly asked.

I blinked in surprise, but took the easy escape “Yes Sister.”

“And do not say a word to anyone about this young man’s condition, do you understand?”

I repeated my answer and slipped away to let the Sister fuss over Dras while I collected my thoughts. This could get complicated very quickly.

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Late that evening I was sneaking out of my room in the Hohen initiate’s building for the last time.

After we had gotten back to the temple, I had been pulled aside by one of the Sisters. She demanded to know what I was thinking in trying to treat Dras. I made up several excuses, but they were all viewed as in appropriate in one form or another. I also had to give my explanations to multiple Sisters, who all insisted on hearing the story from the top.

In the end I was passed off to the Sister in charge of discipline to receive a brief canning (which failed to even leave bruises), a lecture that lasted quite a while, and was send to bed without dinner. The lecture would have been even longer, but we were interrupted. Of the whole incident I was most annoyed by the restriction on my food, which was quite a vicious punishment for someone who had been using magic. Still, I counted my blessings when I overheard the reason why I was dismissed early.

The senior Sister’s condition, the same Sister that I had been impersonating to fool the wards, had worsened greatly and was not expected to last till sunrise. That meant that I had one decent shot at getting to the rituals and somehow getting at least 1 of them out of the temple before the senior Sister died.

It was an unpleasant time constraint, but I accepted it as best I could. Fortunately, I managed to retrieve my iron chainmail from the Histones and got to hide it just before they pulled me aside. My lump of bone would not help me with this theft so I left that, but I brought the bag which currently had an iron lined box inside of it, which I had been using to hide my mithril disk.

Depending on how the wards were set up to defend the scrolls, simply putting a scroll in the box might be enough to prevent the wards from destroying the scroll.

I was ready to steal the scroll, but I partly worried about Dras and if the Sisters would manage to connect him to me. It certainly did not help that both the Sisters and the initiates wanted to talk about the tournament winner. In fact he had become the subject of near open debate, but not for the same reasons as the Sisters were less interested in his incredible physique, or modified body. The fact that he was not a burnout however, seemed to prompt a minor inquisition that began the moment Dras woke up.

According to the other initiates he was still at the tournament arena being questioned by the Sisters. I was slightly annoyed by this as I had got to great lengths to provide something of a safety net for explaining that physique as natural, but the full Sisters just ignored it. The Sisters in training noticed, but they were too busy blushing to actually ask medically relevant questions.

Even my temporary companions seemed to notice, though they were much more interested in my reasons for breaking the rules to take care of him. I failed to tell them anything of interest and left them assuming that we would talk about it tomorrow.

I even cast a spell that was usually reserved for death matches in my previous life. Specifically, it would mark his current body as healed to prevent health potions from having much effect. That I did not have to go that far left me slightly annoyed, but it was better to have too much paranoia in my actions than too little, so I let it go.

I snuck out of the building in an unusual way though. Apparently the Sisters in charge had informed the guards that there would likely be a cremation my morning, so the guards were drinking a toast instead of taking their usual smoking break. As a result, I had been obligated to climb down the outside of the building to get out.

Since it was usually the way I got in and much more dangerous going down, I ended up using a bit of my Gía to simply absorb the shock of my fall. Of course I must have weighed around 65 kilos by now so even rolling with the landing I made a fair bit of noise and ran to avoid being seen.

The track to the hidden library was easy enough, but what I saw there made me panic for a moment. A large group of Sisters was walking through the library into the back room and through an opening that had not been there previously.

As they did so the gate closed behind them and the wall resealed itself, letting me move through the room unseen, but I was still worried about it.

Quickly getting through the challenges while the wards still thought I was allowed to be there, I pulled out my stashed bag and chainmail. I had no intentions of wearing it down here for the noise, but there was no way I was not going to wear it out. Inside my bag was a few iron throwing knives and a change of clothes.

After I changed, as quickly and quietly as I could, I redressed in the Sister initiate robes and checked the secret doorway. I found that the wards that bared it had been moved, although it was still behind layer after layer of security so they thought it safe enough not to replace it apparently.

I snorted at their arrogance, but ignored the secret room for now, I was going to take a big enough chance on the scrolls without pushing my luck there too.

I selected a few scrolls and quickly started experimenting. Security wards could be anything from simple alarms to incendiary and death spells that would activate at the drop of a hat. Given the likelihood of-

I felt a large surge of pure mana from the hidden door and stopped thinking…

There were very few things that could terrify me after all the things I had seen, but remnants of the Guilt rose up screaming at me and I felt honest, animalistic, fear for the first time in- in far too recent of a time to even think of it.

This was not something that fear runes could cause, it was my mind screaming at me to be careful, that danger was near.

The door seemed to radiate mana and I forced myself over to the stone door to open it. The remnants of the Guilt in the back of my mind slowly seemed to understand that I needed to confirm what was happening before I ran outside screaming my head off.

The hidden passageway did not have a handle so I tried using my strength, but unless I used a lot of Gía, it was not going to move. Feeling the mana flow grow stronger I pressed with my magic, but nothing happened, so I took out the magical device that I was using to trick the wards and pressed it to the stone.

That did it, but what I saw next assaulted even my old eye. I did see itself, it was far down the hall, but it was not out of range of my third eye, my mage sight. That showed me more than I could ever forget.

Soul Magic, not like Gorith’s shroud, but real Soul Magic burned into my third eye. I could see it, colorless lances of magic stabbing into someone, with wave after wave of mana being given off as a result. I somehow knew that this was true Soul Magic and considered so forbidden that ironically the only fitting punishment was a spell called soul conflagration.

Horrified, I watched as the mana that was intertwined with the soul shook and rolled off of it. That was one of the common misconceptions about souls, people thought that they stored mana, but they seemed instead to be made up of it… or that was what it looked like to me at the moment.

I watched the mana that they were taking from soul feed into the wards in mixed horror and fascination. I had felt so little scruples about anything anymore that I wash almost as shocked at my own revulsion as I was the act itself.

This was blasphemy, it was pure madness on a level that sickened me.

I backed up, closed the secret door, and retained just enough of my senses to collect my items before I ran. Jorgensen wanted to know the Sister’s secrets? Well I would sign the magic contract and explain as much as I could, but this was beyond even me.

This place needed to be purified and I half wished that I had a spell to create a large amount of nerve gas. It would be dangerous and the Guilt afterwards would be a truly horrendous retaliation, but it would wipe this retched place clean. Of course the wards would likely stop me or rip my own soul out, but that did not matter at the moment.

I was inside a stoning Soul-Ward! I never even thought of phrase before, much less someone actually creating such heresy and I had once been declared the King of Heretics for my views! It was something that I found funny until now, how could they compare me to THAT?! Those honeyfooted churchmen thought that I should tolerate their interference with my Kingdom so they compared me to that?

Stones. Stoning-unacknowledged-graveborn-harpies of Hoh! I could swear up and down about this nonsense until the cows came home.

The talisman/magical device that I created burned out, its blood spell revealing that its human counterpart was dead. It happened as I was going up the stairs, but I paid it no attention at the moment. The wards were not tasked with keeping track of wayward initiates so it simply noted that I was exiting and ignored me.

Outside, I started sprinting to the temple’s side entrance. The side entrance/exit was always open, but guarded, to allow for emergency situations. My mind was racing as I tried to decide if I wanted to force my way through or bluff, but I could not come up with a reason why any initiate like me would be allowed outside this late in the evening.

Then I remembered the one situation where I could not only be allowed to leave, but forced to and I quickly stopped.

Not caring who saw me, I stripped on the spot and removed my chainmail, before I placed it in my bag and put on a simple robe instead. I picked up my initiate’s robe and held it under my arm as I deliberately changed my complexion and made it look like I had been crying.

My original plan was to simply force my way out, as I assumed that the whole temple would be chasing me, but the side entrance was also the place for the quiet exit of shame.

I walked over to the side entrance, which was technically another building that was attached to the wall. There was no door, just a fairly large opening into the compound, but I could feel the monstrous wards wash over me as I walked through it.

I shivered, now knowing just what powered the thing. Monstrous indeed, even the worst of bandits had trouble stomaching sacrificial magic, accepting even pedophiles sooner than them.

There were a half-dozen guards saw me shiver and took in my appearance before coming to the same conclusion. A guard stood and walked over to me, wordlessly trying to accept my initiate’s robe.

I walked around him to a fireplace that had a small fire going and tossed it in myself before I added a fireball spell of my own to ensure it burned. There was a plaque on the wall that I could read, though I knew the guards could recite it by heart for me if I wished.

I made sure that my voice croaked and cracked a little as I spoke, it was not hard. “I am Stella and I fully accept that I am now choosing to leave the Holy Sisterhood of Hoh’s Healers. I hereby renounce my right to enter this place as anything beside a worshiper and request that I be removed from the wards’ memory immediately.” The wards heard and reacted to my words, shifting around me and creating a floating ball of light in front of me as confirmation that I had been removed.

I turned at walked out a door that was open by a guard into the street and walked away from the temple. I immediately ducked into an ally and pulled out my throwing daggers out of my bag before hiding them in as many places as I could. Their weight was an additional comfort to me.

I also cut my hair and almost made more changes until I remembered that the servants at Jorgensen would have to recognize me. After that was done I made sure that my hair burned quickly and I walked out of the ally calmly.

Jorgensen’s mansion would be nearby and I wanted to attract as little attention as possible, so I forced myself to walk at a very deliberate pace the whole way.

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The mansion was not hard to find, partly because it was called a mansion for a good reason. The cursed man was a smart, talented, and business minded mage who had a reputation for never breaking his contracts. I might not like him as a person, but I respected the fact that, as a non-noble mage, he had done quite well for himself.

The mansion stood out because it was slightly distanced from the actual noble district, with a 3 meter tall wall that ran around the perimeter. It was located between a section of the city that was specialized in the art of bootlicking the nobles and another that catered to the reasonably well off.

He also had a couple side entrances installed for the discreet and easy entry into what amounted to a gate room for opening and closing his wards. It was a closed room that lay within the walls themselves and could not be seen from the outside. There were no guards, but there was a rope that I pulled on. It would summon someone to allow me into the mansion.

I did not ask, but I knew that Jorgensen enjoyed a challenge so I had a sinking suspicion that many a woman, particularly the married ones, had been ‘persuaded’ to meet him in private. It was a complete guess of course, but it was the best guess I had given that the man did not seem to need to be involved in any kind of illegal work, just the frowned upon kind.

The same servant from the tournament appeared soon enough and ushered me in without another word.

We walked through the opulent halls silently, but the servant eventually led me to a waiting room and pointed to a door. He told me that I should wait for it to open and that would be the sign that his master was ready.

Maybe it was because I was still shaken that I did not see the signs, but part of me would like to think that my opposite was just that good. To the point where I really wanted to applaud what happened next. Unlike the actors I had seen back in Thysia, this one played his part so well that I only realized what was going on after the doors opened and I walked into the room.

Jorgensen was dead at his desk and the house wards instantly snapped me up and held me to the wall, restraining me before I could even realize what was happening. The door to the room swung close and locked itself as I was restrained by ward so strong that I would need another 3 circles of strength to break out with pure force.

I moved my head as much as I could to look at the remains of Jorgensen and then back at the door behind me, which rattled as someone tried to open it. A moment later the lock clicked again and the door swung open to reveal a confused looking servant and a squad of guards.

The servant, the timing, and the impressive acting skills required to pull this off. I might have to kill every one of them and then cut my way through the city to escape, but the level of execution in this trap floored me. They did not even know that I experience with this type of situation and yet whoever arranged this still managed to be thoroughly annoying.

Now I would not only have to deal with whatever happened when the Sisters discovered that I left, but also with the guard who would clearly have been led to believe that I am the killer. Oh and then I would also need to figure out what I was supposed to do now that my gender change mage dead.

Lucky me.

* * *

Countryside of Etror:

Kwan Gan was a simple farmer on many levels, but not intellectually, so when he noted the pace of the Histone convoy, he knew that trouble would come behind them.

Still, they were the most honorable and trustworthy group who he knew to exist. By the gods, even their traitors and those who leveraged their positions for personal power were still better than the nobility! Kwan expected that was because their initiates all started out writing the average farmer’s daily life.

They alone were regarded as the true neutrals of the world and so the Kwan family had taken an oath the shelter them whenever possible. Through the best and worst of times, that oath had endured for the last 6 centuries and he was ready when they showed up asking for help.

What he did not expect was the loud mouthed brat who was ordering others around like he was nobility.

Occasionally the head of the Histones, Historian Tal’mek, went over and talked to the child, but otherwise the brat was impossible to deal with.

Since he had an oath to keep and he had already trusted Tal’mek with something much more important than his own life, Kwan said nothing about it, but he did observe. The brat’s posture, the occasional feelings of anger and frustration the literally leaked out of him and saturated the air.

A spoiled mage brat in the company of the Histones? Gods that cannot be good.

Kwan asked his old friend about the child with a silent glance, but Tal’mek shook his head, so he asked about his daughter instead.

“She is doing fine old friend, the visions are more controllable these days. I hear time magic is never easy to control, but she is doing very well.” Tal’mek explained with a smile.

Kwan let out a deep breath that he did not know he had been holding. His first wife had died giving birth and his second wife had assumed that his daughter insane when the visions started. If it was not for the interference of the histones, the town would have stoned his daughter to death that day.

Even in a land where slavery was accepted, insanity was a crime that could only be met with death.

The day that the town found out that the woman they thought insane was actually a prophet, they celebrated like never before, but that was only until the Histones requested to train her. A trained prophet could make or ruin whole empires with their words and the Emperor would either be furious or excited to hear such news.

He was less than excited and only the Histone’s relocation of the Kwan family had saved them at that time from more than unpleasant suggestions to convince the young woman to serve the emperor directly.

“How long can you stay?” Kwan asked, eager to have a drink with his old friend, even though he knew the answer already.

“It has been too long already my friend.” Tal’mek smiled sorrowfully before he started barking orders to the rest of his small group. There were only 2 wagons, but both of them were filled with food and people who needed to leave the area as quickly as possible.

Kwan sighed to himself, watching his friend order everyone back on the wagons to get ready to move. “Take the southern route.” Kwan called, “There was a dry spell until recently and the mud should be minimal.”

Tal’mek nodded and gave his old friend a wave as the light wagons started moving. Kwan and Tal’mek knew each other well enough to know to take the northern path this time of year, but there would be pursuers and they would ask where the Histones had gone.

Tal’mek smiled as he remembered his own daughter’s letter regarding how she and Kwan Biyu were getting along. That their daughter were now the best of friends, just like their fathers, despite Kwan Biyu’s unique talent as a prophet, made him smile as the last wagons left.

Tal’mek and the rest of the Histones left without further ado, but as they did, Tal’mek remembered the 2 latest prophecies that he had been informed of and his face darkened.

First, that the unacknowledged son of sin would rise in the west to face a tide of blood from the end of the world. The bloody wolves that rose from the ocean and ate whole Kingdoms alive

Second… that the Bone King would soon walk the surface of the world unimpeded, ready to call inhuman legions to his aid as he bled all who would oppose him.

Tal’mek shivered at the second one especially as it did not give a hint of where this might occur. That it suggested a necromancer would soon rise to prominence terrified him, but he was a Historian and it was his duty to note the passing of history, not to interfere… even if that beautiful woman’s fierce eyes were pushing him to do now.

The Emperor had blamed the Histones for not informing him of a rebellion, but they were now harboring someone who might have a claim to the throne, so they moved as fast as they could. Even if the boy was not the ‘son of sin’ that the prophecy spoke of, the Emperor would still want him and many others once he heard about it. It would be dangerous for everyone the boy was near.

Still, those eyes haunted Tal’mek and he had a feeling that there would be very little sleep

A voice which Tal’mek listened to without actually hearing urged him on, pleased with their escape thus far, but knowing that they had a few more days till true safety. Once that happened, his player would be ready to be molded.

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Maybe I should have called this the rise and fall of Jorgensen? Meh, Dras is important in more ways than one, even if he and the Sisterhood disappear midway through the next arc…

Anyways, currently there are 4 days left until the merge, but it should begin at the very end of chapter 38 and cover all of 39. I am still working on how to write it to span the whole chapter, but I do know that it will take place as a metaphorical, not so one-sided, battle. Who ‘wins’ the confrontation at that point and what they do with the body is still up in the air, but Nalk money is ever on DeMorte.

BTW: there are still 2 ways for DeMorte to turn back into a man, which will be explained in the next chapter… just in case you wanted to jump to assumptions on how I am going to end the arc =P

Thank you ALL for reading,

B_S.