Chapter 43: Biomancy

“Did you sleep well?” Baron Los first question was surprisingly polite. It worried me.

Bella told me to stop being moody, but I felt like regurgitated shite. I went through all the trouble of infiltrating a cult of healers that happened to be stoning Soul Mages on the side and yet the grand spell that I was pursuing came down to stoning splash magic.

We were currently back in his study, presumably awaiting his daughter, while I sat there trying to gauging if I was going to have to kill him.

“I slept fine, but I had some notes that I had to read up on and the big promised spell turned out to be splash magic of all things.” I sighed and added, “That was a marvelous breakfast, by the way, thank you.” Freshly cooked meat, eggs, and an avotato were an impressive way to wake up. The ale was good quality too, though I disliked alcohol these days both because it all seemed to taste off to me and for health reasons

On the bright side, though, he had also gotten me some decent clothes and even offered me a bath in the servant’s quarter, which was such a blessing I almost forgave the poison. Though I had to do quite the rework to hide a knife in the relatively close fitting white robe.

Baron Los looked confused for a moment. “You disagree with mental image constructed magic? Surely you do not use instructional exclusively?”

I shook my head, some people felt the need to put fancier names on that sort of thing. To me, there were only three types of magic casting that were effectively like the different states of water. Systematic, or “instructional” as Baron Los called it, was solid and built one step at a time, which made it the most reliable.

“I always use it as my base. After I understand and can recast the spell predictably, then, I can start taking shortcuts and cutting out inefficiencies.” I snorted, “Magic entirely created from a mental image is not only easier to ward against, but also next to impossible to pass on or record.”

The fluid method of magic was sometimes called splash magic because it was so general. The first spells that young mages cast were almost always splash spells and it was always one of the most dangerous spell that they would ever cast.

Emotions and mental images were far too important in splash magic as it was about mental image. It had some loose rules, but too many inexperienced mages misgauged how much mana a spell would take to use. In the worst cases they died, but sometimes there were lesser consequences too. There were mages who did not pay attention and became dependent on things like hand gestures or words to perform their spells, which could prove fatal in a fight.

Now Baron Los’ eyes were narrowed. “Yet you will you have to use a certain degree of mental imagery to heal, do you not?” I nodded that was a common idea and while it was not inaccurate, it was more because of a lack of scientific knowledge than the magical or religious reasons attributed to it.

Note to Bella, we need to make sure we leave behind a couple thousand copies of a book to correct that. Perhaps we could ask the Histones to distribute it after our eventual death.

“To a certain extent, yes. I know more about the human body than most, but even I need to take certain unscripted steps.” I shrugged “Thankfully, I have yet to experience magical reflux, but I saw it happen to a lightning user once. I would rather not end up like that.”

Now Los looked really confused “Who in the Blighted Towers would use lightning? No, more importantly, assuming he actually managed to get that to work, how did it reflux? It does not sound like it was the first time that person did it.”

“Nope, he was well experienced using it to assassinate people, unfortunately for him, lightning strikes the highest metal surface first. Since he was fighting someone who had had a few iron javelins scattered around, well, he did not like that his lightning kept missing…”

Magic could the nature of reality, but it was not without limits. When people misunderstood those limits and tried to force them, most of the time this would just cause a small amount of wasted energy to magic reflux. In extreme cases, the magic could rebound on you with unpredictable consequences.

Even I, at the lowest and most desperate times in my previous life, had hesitated at the idea of being trapped as a sentient statue for the rest of eternity.

“What astounding stupidity, who would ever thing to try and control lightning of all things? Where did you say this was?”

I opened my mouth and shut it again, hesitating, “I am not sure where I would put it on a map,” I offered truthfully. How would someone put a different world on your map? Would you not have to put it on a completely separate map altogether?

A knock at the door signaled an end to our conversation and I looked over to see a young woman in a nice, but fairly plain, white dress shuffle in. She was too skinny to be attractive by mage standards, but then again she did not seem to have any magic either. Otherwise, she was quite pretty. “You call-ed for me S-Sir?” Her voice cracked badly and I noticed how pale she was, even ignoring the white dress.

I said nothing, but my thoughts were racing as my eyes narrowed and I felt Bella shift uncomfortably as she followed my line of thought. This was supposed to be his daughter? She had opened the door herself instead of the Baron letting her in, but…

Only one obvious entrance and exit, but wards could be horrid things given that their specialty was defense. This one seemed fairly standard from what I could feel, but it was not like I specialized in building them and taking one down only required surprise, a key to the ward’s anchor point, an iron nail, and a hammer.

Assuming the man did not have more than three battle mages and no one else save himself had access to the wards I could escape easily enough. Though the Guilt would definitely be haunting me afterward.

The Baron’s voice, however, was at ease. Was I overthinking it? Bella thought I was, but she too kept a look out. “This man is a Healer and he is here to examine you.”

“Biomancer.” I corrected, experimentally releasing a bit of killing intent away from either of them. As the wards shifted and started to react I pulled my killing intent back for the time being. “Come here.”

She seemed slightly nervous, but the pain in her movements was real and I wondered how much energy she normally had to be even slightly nervous. I gestured to the seat next to me and after she half sat, half collapsed, into the seat next to me I offered my hand. After a quick glance at the Baron, she accepted and my gift went into action.

My mana flowed through her, giving me an awareness of what she felt as well as what was wrong with her. Others with my gift, but not my knowledge, would only have a general idea of her injuries, however, I could see everything.

Broken bones left remnants, signs of what happened in the past, scars that most could not see like I could with my gift. I saw the brakes, the fractures, the scars that told me at least a part of who this woman was and the story I read made me angry.

Bella offered other solutions and I was not eager to jump to conclusions, so we decided to heal the girl. Our magic wove through her body, not following one path or any specific spell, but following our instruction as it moved through her.

This was the product of our compromise. The gift that Bella had been blessed with, to instinctively understand the body of another with mana, was combined with my talent for the most dangerous form of spell casting.

Unlike the unexplainable (even for us) gift that Bella had been blessed with from birth, my talent had been used under the most desperate circumstances. Free-form spell casting was forbidden for its dangers to the person casting it. This was because it did not involve finishing the spell construction in your head before it was used, instead letting the mage directly build it as the spell was cast.

If mana reflux was a danger to your body, that was one thing, but if you were still connected to the magic, if you were free-forming, or Soul Casting as it was sometimes called, it could reflux directly into your mana control ability. Some went insane, some burned out their own magic systems, and many said that your very Soul took damage from such a thing.

Systematic was solid, splash was liquid, and free-form was gas. Where the other two could adapt to a limited extent, the third form was both danger and adaptation incarnate.

Naturally, it was only something used if you were in danger, or expected a trap to reveal itself any second.

As our mana danced through her body, we kept a dim awareness of what was going on around us. The Baron was silent and the door was still closed, the only sound was a gasp as our mana reached deeper and deeper into her body. It had passed like a wave of fire through her lungs, burning away the infection there before moving on to her spine and reforming the two dangerously damaged vertebrae.

She also had another infection, a disease more typical of whores, but the scarring in her vaginal tract and damage to her reproductive organs as a whole made it fairly clear that she had been assulted as a child.

For anyone else, doing anything else to heal her, it would have taken a few minutes and a lot of mana. For me though, actively manipulating my mana as it flowed through her from problem spot to problem spot, it was difficult, but increadibly fast. It also let me prepare to pull my mana back and defend myself if nessisary.

Nothing happened and when I was finally done I took a deep breath and sat back, relaxing almost involuntarily. “That should be the majority of it.”

There was a moment of silence again, punctuated only by the pendulum mechanics of the clock, which was actually starting to grate on my nerves. Why was that thing so loud- false passage? My epinephrine surged again and I tried to keep myself from lashing out and smashing the thing.

“That is it?” The Baron prodded.

A deep, concentrating, breath found me looking back at him evenly. “Yes, Baron. Why? Were you expecting some ritual nonsense?”

His voice was tight. Odd considering there was no way this was his daughter. “I was expecting more than a minute with someone you just met and to let you diagnose and treat her properly.”

I waved a hand as casually as I could manage. “There was nothing life threatening and I healed as much damage to her organs as was practical. Her lungs were disgusting and there was only so much that I could do – stop smoking traxico.” We sent the young woman a harsh glare before continuing, this time speaking to her directly, though I kept my eyes on the Baron. “Your back should feel better, but your sex organs will likely feel a little odd since the damage there was so old.”

I actually looked at her at that point and paused to take in the wondrous look that was plastered on her face. She was not listening, probably enjoying a new lack of pain, which made us smile. I added that her ability to have children was still up in the air, but she was still coming back from the heavens.

It took a moment, but her brain did catch up eventually. “Wait, damage to my what? What are you talking about?” To my surprise, she looked shocked and alarmed, not embarrassed. Had she suppressed the memories, or just not realized how badly she had been hurt?

“You had extensive damage and scarring to your vaginal- right, look, your sex was damaged. The damage was old and so probably happened very early in your life, probably when you were a child. I healed a lot of it, but I cannot guarantee that you will be able to have children again. That said, I also took care of something else, so overall, sex should be more enjoyable.”

She sat there like a gaping fish for a moment before suddenly yelling a variety of things while blushing. She switched from talking about the “sheer audacity of the staggering insult that you, you insignificant-lying-fuck-nugget, have just perpetrated upon my person” to something about her bile balance and humors or something.

It was loud, annoying, and served as perfect evidence that she was doing much better. Granted, since I was already on edge, the tirade almost earned her a broken nose. Bella, however, suggested that a slap would do just fine to make her shut up.

It also earned me a light wave of killing intent as the Baron’s wards rippled. “Just who said that you could do that to her? This is my house and you are my guest here, what gives you the right to lay a hand on a member of my House?!”

I turned to give him an even stare, trusting Bella to keep my disgust hidden. “Why you did, the second you turned her into a test subject for my skills.” I looked him dead in the eyes. “If she was your daughter, you would have introduced her as such, she would not have so many defensive scars on her body, scars like the several sets of bites that suggest she once lived on the street, and you would have stopped me before I shut her up.” I paused for just long enough to make sure he got the message before continuing. “That said, I apologize for striking someone in your house.” I stood up and gave the Baron a respectful bow.

After a moment there was a sigh and wards returned normal. “You are dismissed Valyria, go fetch Locket.” I heard the women respectfully acknowledge his order, in a completely different accent than what she sounded like previously, and held my bow until the door closed. As I straightened he added, “someone will test her outside, but she certainly seemed healthier to me.”

“She is Baron, though whoever you have ‘testing’ her might be in for a shock over just how much I fixed. Biomancer magic is rare and requires certain unpleasant steps to learn. Steps that have made sure that I will have a difficult time should I ever go to the Holy City.”

His face revealed nothing. “Nothing… heretical I would hope.”

I shrugged, “not to my knowledge, but since becoming a competent Biomancer means having live targets to practice on, it does tend to step on the toes of a few Healers.” I hesitated at this point since I was likely the only Biomancer in the world, making this was all both true and complete garbage at the same time. “Investigating the failures when said subjects die, prior to cremation, also makes the churches extremely uncomfortable.”

That got me another nod, but not a verbal response and our conversation paused as I felt my stomach growl at me. I had reserves left from the morning, but those had been absorbed through mana roots. Magic sometimes made your digestion even extremely efficient and other times it used your body’s reserves directly, no one knew why.

Before I could ask, the Baron raised his hand and the door opened again, this time ushering in a pair of men with a small plate of food and a table. A baked avotato, fresh carrots, and chicken soon filled my stomach, though I did not let my guard down while eating. In fact, I absorbed a large portion of my food with mana roots as my stomach was not going to finish digesting it anytime soon.

About halfway through my meal, I started speaking again, between bites. “Is this a good time to discuss the poison you put in my breakfast?”

“A precaution and a test, you have my apologies, though you did justify it when you slapped her.”

I swallowed and cut him off before he went further, he had responded too fast, earning respect and suspicion in equal measure. “Where did you find her anyway? No, that does not matter, the rat bites suggest the streets and that is all that matters, though she did seem to give her heart to acting the part near the end.” I got a grunt, which was not where I wanted this conversation to go.

He poisoned me, tricked me, and likely had a pair of mages hidden by the wards to kill me if I caused trouble and he did not activate the wards in time. Or at least that would be what I would do. If the Nalks really were protecting me than I was fine, but they might have deliberately let Bella sense them and- “I want us to be friends, Baron.”

…Bella, even reading your thoughts and knowing where and why you said that I still do NOT stoning like the feeling of mixing control between us. ESPECIALLY without prior warning.

There was a pause and as I tried not to let the crunch of the carrot echo as I grit my teeth in anger. That I was chewing as a by-product barely registered.

I saw what she was doing and it might help, but the fact that she had gone ahead and spoken while I was still planning annoyed me… even if I could see the increasing levels of paranoia from her point of view.

The Baron, for his part, was obviously caught off guard and spoke slowly, processing what I had said. “I am sure we can become such, in time.”

“Time,” I repeated back to him, equally slowly, pretending to let the word sink in as I calmed down. I also polished up the food as I gave him a moment to process Bella’s statement. A knock came at the door as I finished and I silently cursed as I felt the mage’s mana leak only after the Baron’s wards opened the door.

A younger Sister from the temple of Hoh, maybe thirty or so, entered and I felt my skin crawl. Soul Mages were the ultimate enemy of all life. The only time I ever wanted one within 100 leagues of me was if I was sure I could both use them against my enemies and kill them on a whim. Since neither were likely, given the eventual insanity they all succumbed too, I just preferred to get rid of them as soon as possible.

Even if technically the Sisters were not full Soul Mags, but they were close enough to disgust me. I had dabbled in the soul arts, but nothing that involved human sacrifice or resurrecting the dead. That the Sisters sacrificed their older members to power their nigh impregnable wards disgusted me.

“Pardon Baron, I did as you requested and examined the girl. I do not know who this person is, but I would question his spellwork as, bluntly, I cannot find any.”

I watched them both, ready to cast my berserker spell and Gorith’s shroud at a moment’s notice. The spell would let me throw my hidden knife through the Baron’s throat and the shroud would let the Sister be burned by the wards in retaliation.

“Is she better?”

The Sister hesitated, “Yes, she seems completely healthy, but-”

“Then I thank you for your assistance.” I blinked at that. Come to think of it, how did he get a Sister to come visit and yet he could not get one of them to heal his real daughter? Was it really something that minor?

“Baron, I do not think you understand-”

The Baron held up his hand “Sister, I thank you for your assistance and I trust that you will keep this matter between us as I asked…”

The Sister sputtered for a moment and her head seemed to jerk between the two of us, sending a few brief glares at me in rapid succession, before turning and storming out.

I continued our conversation from before, temporarily ignoring the fact that the Baron had clearly meant for her to see me in person. “You never have as much time as you think Baron and I want you to feel that you could put our friendship in writing without hesitation or regret.” I walked over to the large clock, watching its pendulum slowly swing.

I said friendship, but we both knew that we would have to work out a sort of alliance before we could look into that. Even so, Bella’s request had been the right one, by saying that I wanted to be “friends” it would make it easier to gain an ally.

As an old friend once told me, “It was better to aim for the stars and settle for the sky.”

I could see his face off the reflection of the glass. He was giving me a measuring look. “That would be difficult, but your helping my daughter will go a long way. After that, we can discuss what would help us become allies.”

I sighed loudly. “That sounds suspiciously like an indefinite delay.”

“Something to discuss later at the least, but I would not say indefinite, just after my daughter leaves. She should be here any moment, but I confess that her problem revolves around her leg.”

I nodded to myself, a limp or improperly healed injury would be seen as weakness by the other nobles. That it was obviously not a natural condition, which I knew because even the Sisters could not fix those, would mean nothing.

Still… “You did not poison me as a test.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” He sounded offended, but only slightly. Even Bella, who had been checking and rechecking my thoughts for this entire conversation, found his tone annoying.

“Yes.” I let some of my anger show, pretending I did not know that he would see in in the glass’ reflection. “You did it as insurance, something to ensure that, if I somehow got away from your wards, I would die without additional effort.

“Then you tested me, once with the actress, once with her illness, and once with the Sister.” I turned back to face him, back to a cool, considerate look. His body language said that he was alert, but not on edge. “I do believe that you should be out of tests, but just in case, I want to ask you to stop doing such things. Especially as I do not know a test until I already react to it.

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“Going further, I could say that we have been lucky that your tests were so benign.” I met his eyes and emphasized what I said next with my whole being. “I am not good at making friends Baron, I am good at destroying my enemies, so I will make my proposal one more time before I heal your daughter. Can we be friends?”

“Are you threatening my daughter?” He was quiet, intense, and deadly serious.

“No.” I admitted, “I will heal her to the best of my abilities for the food and shelter that you have given me. Regardless of your decision, I will not hold her to anything you say or do, but I wanted you to understand my desire and decide for yourself if we will be friends, enemies, or business associates – of a sort.” Willing obedience always beat forced obedience.

Threats would get me nothing, save perhaps another enemy, but making his choices clear and saying that I would respect them could get an ally.

He somewhat relaxed. “You know there does not seem to be a good incentive to be more than business associates.”

Another knock came at the door and I smiled. “Nothing is truly without risk, I just wanted you to know what was what.” After all, the moment after his daughter left, the moment he had no more need for me, then I would see his real hand.

The door opened and the new young lady, who did indeed limp in, she wore an expertly tailored dress and had a neckless with the House symbol on it, a two-horned horse. Her dress also hid her legs easily, making it hard to know what was wrong without closer examination. She had magic, but not as much as the Baron.

She gave us a brief bow, managing quite well despite whatever was wrong with her leg. “You sent for me Baron?”

Again my brain went to work. What if this one was another fake? Another test, this time by a better actress when my guard was down- Wait… Even if it was all a lie, I just had to heal her and stop thinking about every little detail.

“This young man is going to try healing you.” His voice was gentle and he had a slightly more protective air about him.

She looked me over and then back at the Baron, “A Healer so young Father?” A poor looking stranger is what she meant, but that was hardly an inaccurate view.

“He is a… specialist.” The Baron motioned for her to sit where the other girl had.

I forced my own impatience down and waited for her to take a seat before I offered my hand. “May I begin?” More hesitation, more slow movement, I almost tried to play a game of pinyin with Bella, but when my mana finally surged through her, I found something very interesting.

I always wanted to be a researcher, but I only barely had the patience, much less the funds for such a thing, yet there were always new things to learn when examining the human body and I almost always enjoyed learning new things.

Today I learned that a certain old wives’ tale actually had some truth to it.

“Pardon me,” I stated, kneeling down before the girl, “I will need to see this directly.”

“Why?” The Baron’s reply was sharp and preempted the girl’s own by only the slimmest of margins.

I smiled, “because very few people survive allergic reactions to potions.” This was awesome.

Ignoring the stunned silence I casually lifted up the girl’s dress, ignoring her brief squeak of indignation and her attempt to maintain some form of modesty by making sure I could not see up her dress.

I hardly cared, while the young lady had nice thighs, I was infinitely more interested in the gash on her leg.

Sex was far less fun between mages as just touching someone was an example of high levels of confidence or trust. In any case, I had enough women over the decades that it hardly motivated me beyond a fun pastime when bored.

No, the dreadful, bulbous, rash and the improperly set bone were much more interesting. Specifically, because it was magical in nature, meaning the thing was partly feeding off her mana to help maintain the nasty 15cm long gash on the outside of her calf.

“Wonderful.” We commented, a wonderful example of the observations that could come about from potions.

Alchemy was as close to a science of madness as I had ever heard of. You could even honestly state that, if someone wanted the adventure of a lifetime, they only needed to try being a potions tester for a few days.

“I thank you sir, but if you would not mind?”

“Pardon?” We asked looking up, what had the girl wanted?

Her face was slightly flushed, “If you would not mind, I would prefer that heal me before complimenting my legs.”

“Ah.” Rather than argue, we nodded and got back to examining the rash. It would be a fairly easy fix under any other circumstances, but the magic aspect that the potion had contributed was somewhat more difficult.

Fortunately for her and unfortunately for us, it was a fairly shallow growth, making it an uninteresting fix. “You will want to be unconscious.” I let Bella concentrate on the injury while I talked to the girl.

“Will I?”

“That was not a question,” then Bella found something interesting, “also, it appears that you reacted to an ingredient in the potion rather than the potion itself. Which would explain why it still healed you as much as it did. I assume you were pouring the potion directly on a wound?”

She nodded and started to explain, but I did not care. The slightly cancerous and parasitic nature of her magic based rash had given me a few interesting ideas, but magic-based Ebola aside, we had already gotten most of what we needed. Anything further would take more time, and experimentation, than was reasonable.

“Sit back, relax, and count backward from ten.”

She looked at me with distrust, but complied, “Ten. Nine.”

I turned to the Baron, “I trust the wards are prepared?”

“Eight.” He nodded. “Seven.”

“Good.”

“Six. Fi-” The blackout spell did its work.

“I am cutting it out,” I informed the Baron, “afterwards, it will be easy enough to heal, though she might have a limp for another few weeks.”

“You cannot take care of that without knife-work? Or heal her to the point where she will not have the limp?”

We pondered it for a moment but shook our head. “No, cutting if off is for the best, even if it was a tiny amount, that thing is being affected by her mana. It is best to just get rid of it with minimal contact. Oh and even if we healed everything perfectly, besides the human mind can trick itself and would likely give her a phantom limp for a while. This way she can heal more naturally.”

The Baron grimaced but nodded. Though we were slightly surprised that he did not react to my mentioning that it was being influenced by her magic. Had the Sisters told him but left the thing to fester anyway? Not that it would be a serious danger for a few more months, but still…

“You nodded, but just to confirm, the wards will deal with the blood and not react to my spells correct?”

“The blood will not be a problem unless there is too much of it.” I got a glare, “If there is too much of hers on the ground, then yours will be joining it.” His glare softened into a frown, “That said, they will not interfere, and they will clean the blood, but after what the Sister said, I will be having them record your spells.”

That got my attention, wards could do that? Did that I mean I might have taught that dungeon some new spells after all? Stone me sideways, if I had known that I would never have used my concentration spells. The last thing I needed was to go back to Tartarus and find a bunch of giant spiders that could shoot concentrated streams of light or ear bleeding levels of noise.

Changing my plans slightly, I cast a dozen snip spells, cutting off a large part of her skin, before adding a slightly more powerful version to separate her bone at the break.

That would have been easy enough to realign with my spell, but since I did not want my bone manipulation spell spread, I cast one of the first healing spells that anyone learned, accelerated healing.

Granted, mine was far more efficient, using the person’s bodily stores and only targeted certain areas, making it much faster, but it was still a large step down compared to my usual spells. As a result, while the wound sealed fairly quickly, it still took several minutes for her leg to actually heal to the point where it looked fairly normal. Though the new skin was noticeable in comparison to the rest of her calf, it would finish healing on its own.

Then, rather abruptly, I got the game of “200 questions from a doting parent,” which covered everything and anything that might also be wrong with her, how long it would take her to heal, if her hymen was intact, (which Bella refused to even address) would there be any side effects, how did they test for other potion allergies, etc.

When I finally woke her up though he was back to his normal, aloof self. She, however, was a bit confused that everything was already done, she even tried to finish her countdown, before she noticed her leg.

That ended with a happy, off balance bow for both of us and a brief conversation with her father that finally got him back to a serious subject. “I will be along to see you shortly dear, but for now I need to talk to him about our future dealings.”

“Of course, my lord,” She gave another off balance bow and quickly left as both the Baron and I sat back down. The wards had already finished their job of cleaning the room well before the door closed, burning away the dead skin and making sure that no smell remained.

We just looked at each other in silence for a moment, which was really getting redundant. “You know, that clock can get surprisingly annoying.”

He smiled. “I know.” More silence.

I smiled back politely, stopping my hand from patting where I had my knife hidden.

Bella mentally shook her head at the tension in the room. His daughter was healed and he had not tried to kill us yet, but that did not mean he might try the moment I let my guard down. That said, I got the feeling that his merchant roots were starting to come into full effect. I had helped him, he had something I wanted, and I had favors and a talent to trade.

He would also be bargaining from a position of power since I was inside his wards. Of course, as long as I could eat another large meal or two I would be able to fight off a small army. Right now, it would be very difficult indeed, but if it were only him and a few others…

Bella had so many mixed and interlinking thoughts about the plans that I spun out and my “eagerness to fight,” as she saw it, that I could not concentrate on both the room and her mind simultaneously.

That said, we both knew who I was and neither of us needed rationalization for my behavior, I was not the “Bandit King” anymore, but we were still in a dangerous situation and I would survive. It would be ideal if no one got hurt, but if they did, they did.

We would survive.

“I think it is time for that talk.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

After gaining permission, I erected my own wards around the stable. Los had offered me a room in the house, but I declined for privacy reasons.

The evening meal had been large enough, especially after I asked for seconds, that I thought I could perform the spell safely. It had also given me enough time to establish a sort of make-shift alliance. He would not be giving me a written recommendation or anything, but information, housing, and some pocket change when I left would be enough for now.

Especially the money, since I had to sell my old iron chainmail and weapons prior to my brief period in the Sisterhood. My bone armor was excellent for turning blades but did nothing against spells and my diet had consumed the majority of the money.

All in all, the Baron had made out like I used to, back when I was raiding merchant warehouses. He had basically no risk, I owed him at least one sizable favor, and his daughter was healed, meaning maximum profit.

In any case, as time was running out for the spell, both Bella and I agreed that it would be better to just risk it tonight… Well, Bella actually told me that I should just suck it up and accept being a woman.

The fact that I had pursued what ultimately turned out to be a simple spell for the last few years of our life, was not only embarrassing, but disappointing. In fact, it was possible that both the Nalks and the Remnants that Bella destroyed had deliberately stopped me from realizing the ultimate simplicity of the solution.

Plainly speaking, the body knew how to manage itself. Most Healers, the Sisters included, just encouraged the body to fix itself and used magic to get the body to speed up the process. I worked with so much more knowledge than they had access to that I told the body how to heal or just used magic to take direct action myself.

All I had to do was use the fact that my brain already knew the how and why my body functioned to build the basis for a new one. The pervert’s notes had been clear that his greatest successes involved turning women into men because he could help guide the certain aspects of the spell as a man.

In that sense, I was actually going to violate biology by not turning myself into a man like I originally planned to after being stuck in a female body, but instead throwing away gender as much as I could. No penis or vagina, but a small urinary tract on a compact, muscular body with its own system of regulated hormones. It would require special management and upkeep to make sure our body regulated itself properly, but we were willing to do that.

We agreed on some basic concepts before, but tonight Bella and I truly would truly go to work. That said, there were a few things to get settled before then. Or more accurately, Bella was taking this time to nag about all the bad decisions I had made while not ‘listening’ to her.

Naturally, she ignored the times she was wrong, but I never mentioned that. She could read my thoughts after all.

Basically, though, what Bella really wanted from me, was to accept the results of my actions up to this point. Upsetting that stoning “Adventurer’s Guild,” cutting off Bella’s familial ties, attracting the attention of what appeared to be a magically created sentience called a dungeon, and generally being my old self had earned me enemies. Enemies that I did not need.

In short, I stoned myself. Not to the point where I could not recover, but the “adventurers” would know the name “DeMorte” and they would track me here. I had recovered a group of enemies from my previous life. Even if they gave up on me for whatever reason, I still had an enemy that I unnecessarily made for myself.

From Bella’s point of view, I wanted that to happen, for the familiarity of it. Enemies were easy to understand. Sometimes you could even stop being enemies for a while, but friends were much more difficult. They were dangerous and I had already spent one lifetime staring at shadows and what lurked within them.

No, Bella had me there, enemies were easier to see coming.

She had, however, also been telling the truth when she told Los that we wanted friends… Or more accurately, I wanted people who I could count on in a pinch and Bella wanted friends. The idea seemed slightly far-fetched to me, but I admitted that it was not just a fantasy, though the Nalks would certainly make it more difficult.

In any case, in order to make any lasting relations, I needed to make my own identity at the least. Avoiding both my enemies and keeping my friends aware of who I was, without keeping something obvious to identify myself, would be dangerous. I had already resorted to storing the mithril coin inside my body once, I would prefer to not do that again.

To that end, I had a spell that would change me, that would make me so fundamentally different that even the few Sisterhood initiates that were intimately familiar with me, would not know who or what I was. Perhaps even Mother would not…

At that point, I could become DeMorte, or Bella, or Stella, or Gyrfalcon, or anything else I wanted, or more accurately, I could claim to be anyone I wanted.

I could use any name I wanted, they were cheap and most were meaningless to me after all… However, as much as a part of me wanted to be Morte again, he had been destroyed a long time ago, probably before I even met my wife.

The remnants of the Guilt – the fragments that were left over after the life of those I killed passed before my eyes – had swallowed him over time. They had helped create DeMorte little by little over the years and even after Bella burned them out of my head, they still had an effect on who I was.

After Bella and I finished our talk, which was mostly her pointing out my flaws, we decided to be DeMorte Gyrfalcon the Biomancer. We also decided to let Bella be in control of our body from time to time (partly so she could make mistakes too, instead of just judging me) before we started to build an image from the inside out of just what that person looked like.

Our image started with the heart and quickly spread out from there. Most of it, like the nervous system, was similar, if not outright the same as it currently was, but there were also some important differences.

I imagined a largely male build, relying on both the knowledge the Nalks had given me and the experience of my past life. I left Bella to focus on a largely female bone structure and we both worked to make other small changes in our body. We both ensured the removal of our reproductive organs,

Anything we thought might be useful and had experience experimenting with, except the magic resistant skin of the wolf people, was considered while we were at it.

Overall we probably did a much more detailed job than we needed to, but this would be our new body, so some things had to be micromanaged.

When it was done, we only had one more thing to do.

We stripped naked and reshaping some bone into the sharpest knife we could manage before laying down. Following a reflection and pain numbing spell, we cut open our lower body and carefully removed the secret that we had created using the same organs that we were about to remove.

The ball of organic matter was small enough to fit in your palm, but most would likely never want to hold it. The thing was disgusting, covered in blood it was arguably the single most hideous thing we had seen in this world, but it was also had a unique beauty from a mage’s perspective. No one said that magical devices had to be made from dead creatures, but there was a reason they almost always were.

I carefully wrapped the organic device in its own ward to protect it from contamination. Biological or magical in nature, I wanted nothing to touch my masterpiece, even if it was not complete yet.

Bella and I briefly debated how to use it, but the device had been designed to transform human biology, so until we actually found someone to use it on, someone desperate, we would have to keep it safe.

We did not bother closing up the wound, we decided to let the new Biomancy spell would take care of it instead.

In fact, disregarding that there was no real definition of a “Biomancy” spell, this spell was basically one of only two true Biomancy spells. The other being mana roots, it made both Bella and I excited, enough for us to temporarily forget the risk.

I had the honors of finally triggered the modified spell and it was un- err- it was, fortunately, a very anticlimactic experience. There was a sizable amount of mana that was gathered and spinning vortex of mana lifting me up off the ground as it dissolved parts of my innards was dramatic, but it went so smoothly that it caught me off guard.

In all, it had only taken a few minutes and most of the changes that took place were on the inside. From the outside, we were only slightly different. Our chest was slightly smaller, our muscles slightly more defined, but our face was still fairly effeminate and we were still the same person at the end of the spell.

Granted there was one small area which had been purposely designed and created while we were mentally rebuilding out body. Where the womb previously was, there was now a protective chrysalis of bone, tissue, and fat that would protect my fleshy little magic device.

Bella and I had several mental debates about it, but we decided to add it in the end. As, while arguably a needless security, given it would only protect against accidental hits, but the device was too valuable. Given that we had literally built it by modifying DNA one step at a time, it was far too complicated to want to reproduce from scratch.

We had to reopen ourselves to put the device into the chrysalis, which felt like a rock in our lower stomach, but again nothing unexpected happened until we heard a voice drift out from the stables below.

It was a snake hiss of a whisper, but we still heard it easily. “You are safe now Bandit King, no more corrections will be made and you may leave tomorrow.”

Naturally, there was no one on the ground floor and my wards were untouched, so we both agreed to modify our wards before sleeping. The new addition to my wards was exclusively designed with the hopes of shutting out the energy I associated with the Nalks. If it even slightly interfered with them, it would be would be worth going to sleep hungry.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The next day at noon, a pulse of mana from the city’s governing office heralded an announcement.

I had been arguing with Los at the time, over the idea that what he called ‘fish market haggling’ could be applied to larger expeditions. To our mutual surprise, I was apparently far more knowledgeable on the subject.

The pulse was harmless, just enough to be noticeable to a mage and about ten thousand times too weak to be harmful. Though I imagined that the light itch that I felt was dreadfully painful to the masses with burnout.

Baron Los then manipulated his wards to allow the broadcasted magic to reach us.

“Attention! Attention! We are pleased to announce that the criminal mage who escaped from the prison tower not long ago was cornered and killed. Her confederate has also killed himself, proving his complicity in the matter. As such, all may now leave their homes as they see fit. Although, given recent developments, the gates will be heavily guarded and you should expect a long wait for exiting, regardless of your status or blood.”

The speaker then repeated itself while Bella and I weighed the possibility of Dras actually being alive, despite what was said. When it was done, Los made a joke about having just caught up on his paperwork.

As for us, we had come to conclusion that Dras was, in all likelihood dead and even if he was alive, he would be hidden away. For whatever reason, likely something to do with the “missing” high lady, we were considered dead.

“Baron Los.” We said quietly. “We would like to believe that we are friends, regardless of what has been discussed over the past few days, but we also have enemies here. So if you would remember that friendship, it will endeavor to come back to give you aid in the future.”

A scene danced in our head. A fantasy that both Bella and I marveled in for its vindictive rage, even as we both knew that it would not happen.

We imagined that perverted temple of Hoh in ruins, the Sisters massacred. Some were still alive some cried, a few laughed or silently watched their temple be destroyed. Many of the survivors were doing everything they could to survive, with some even stripping naked to try and prostitute themselves for my men. Their prized virginity, required for their ritual spells to work, meant nothing if they were dead and they oh-so-desperately wanted to live.

As for our men, they were hulking monstrosities of darkness. A rare Sister would try one last time to resist, but their skin shrugged off magic. Their mighty forms were the current summit of what a human could become, but even they could be improved upon.

We noted with pride that there was no rape, nor pillaging, just efficient death as they silently moved about their task.

Beyond, the city burned and we could hear nothing above the roar of the flames.

It was a fantasy, born out of the anger of the moment, but we enjoyed the imaginary feeling of vengeance it gave us. A feeling that would be both impractical and terrifying to pursue in reality.

*     *     *

Forgotten Continent:

The observation shrine was for the purpose of observing one’s own Soul without being observed yourself. It was a rare place of isolation that allowed Jagged Claw to sit in blissful, beautiful, silence and solitude.

It had never failed to relax him, until today.

The drums had followed him here today, refusing to leave his mind. He had not slept well, since it happened.

The plagues in recent years had been contained before they could cause too much death, but this one had been different for two reasons. First, it had spread faster than anything they had previously dealt with. Second, though, was the Soul Mage who followed in its wake.

Normally a suicidal task, the monstrosity that used to be human had used the dead, claiming the corpses for its own before the poor souls could be burned.

So it was that the southern part of their last bastion was lost.

The sick part though, was that Jagged was actually rather glad. Food supplies were hard to sustain – to the point where the druids had practically invented a new logistics system to handle it – however it was the water that was truly worrying.

The same mountains that gave them their defenses also supplied most of the drinking water for the warriors, druids, chiefs, and priests. Other water had to be recycled through magic and yet there were not enough druids to do the work as most were needed on the farms.

Add into that, the fact that they needed to store supplies away for the long trip and it was becoming truly disastrous. Then the plague came. Yes, it had killed so many that they could not burn the bodies fast enough. Yes, it brought the Soul Mages – just one at first, but now there were more. Yes it had given him a horrible choice to make, but in the end it had also taken away a huge burden.

The southerners were dependent on wells that were about to run dry and some had been migrating into the only slightly less populated areas to their north. Then the plague had come and in the face of a newly formed army of the undead, Jagged had made a decision.

He had lead his clansmen south, carrying stone pillars called the Death Barriers and using the powerful devices to raise a massive spell. They burned all the corpses in a large area around each pillar, but at a terrible cost as each pillar feed off the nearby living to power it.

He had stopped the enemy advance with the pillars, sacrificing his own father in the process.

He was the head Claw now, but he did not want to be.

More drums beat, pounding into his head with ever increasing sadism.

How many people did he damn by putting up that new barrier? It had been the “right” thing to do. The barrier had contained the undead and they had since begun pushing the abominations back, but he still wondered about the “ifs” of what happened.

What if he had warned those people that running towards the pillars would kill them? What if he had not been so stingy, prioritizing the lives of the soldiers above all else? What if he had consulted with someone, with anyone, about using the Death Barriers?

Then, like so often recently, his mind turned to their long voyage. He had heard that the land they were going to from the seers. That the people of this land had not seen Soul Mages in millennia. That they had forgotten how to fight and lived in peace, growing fat and happy while Jagged’s home had become a wasteland infested with undead.

Jagged had told himself repeatedly that they should not expect help from people who lived on the wrong side of the world, walking sideways, but he still wondered if that was true. Had the Soul Monsters only cursed this land? How had these other lands gone untouched?

How had they ignored the threat growing in these lands until the gods themselves had to interfere?

The vision came to Jagged again. Again he was a mighty leader, who had pillaged and plundered thousands of cities, town, and villages. His army, numbering over 20 full legions, was breaking down the last gate. This would be his capital, this would be the place his children inherited, a city connecting two ports that were divided by a continent and surrounded by plains.

Plains open enough for the cattle that Jagged’s father once promised him, back before the Soul Mages came, before the drums began.

He sat up and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pounding drums even though he know it was impossible. The vision was an annoyance, it was not real, a fantasy escape. That is would not leave his mind was of no consequence. He knew what he needed to do now.

He had to go, the drums were beating the call for blood and if he killed enough, then maybe they would finally go quiet and give him some rest.