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In Loki's Honor
Life 33 - Chapter 14 - I Guess it's a "Wand" Measuring Contest

Life 33 - Chapter 14 - I Guess it's a "Wand" Measuring Contest

I disliked everything in this [Wizard]. The way he looked at me was the same shoppers looked at merchandise in a slave market. He wasn’t looking at a [Prince] of the Empire, he was looking at livestock. His excitement betrayed his greed, for he coveted or envied my alleged power. Access to a rare type of magic could put a magician ahead of his peers. He might be motivated by fear of losing his position to a more talented caster.

> > Level 78 male human [Court Wizard].

“And how are we going to test that?” I asked from an awkward position, as I needed to look up to meet his eyes.

“I have here,” he flourished his hand like a stage magician and a book appeared in his hands, “A compendium on blood magic. Spells, rituals, the life accomplishments of the last [Blood Mage] of the Empire. You’ll learn a cantrip from this book and cast it. Simple, for the Empire’s magical genius son!”

The book was rather large and unwieldy, bound with fine and delicate leather, dyed blood-red. The corners were clasped by iron and the spine’s texture was sickly, like exposed bone marrow. Someone went to great lengths to make this book look as repulsive as it was remarkable.

A common apprentice took a week or two to cast his first cantrip. Unless one used Marlowe’s circle tracing technique, what he asked of me was impossible. This guy was setting me up to fail before the Emperor. He would probably make some outlandish claim after I humiliated myself.

This was a world where talent could be stolen. I remembered how the leader of the mind-bender enclave granted me {Summoning Magic Affinity} from someone else he stole it from. Now that I had time to read his grimoire, I knew how he did it. Stealing talents from a person meant stealing that person’s life. A soul was shattered and a fragment holding the Perks was crystallized.

His true intentions were somewhere around this worst-case scenario. But they weren’t altruistic or even aligned with my own goals. This mage reeked of greed and hubris.

“Hand over the book,” I demanded. “I shall evaluate its worth myself.”

“Not so fast, boy--”

I shoved a {Royal Order} down this guy’s throat.

“{Silence}! The correct way to address me is ‘Your Highness’. Disrespect me again and you’ll face an [Imperial Prince]’s wrath, for I shall suffer no fools, much less sleazy demons. I didn’t ask for the book. I commanded, {Hand over the book}!”

> > Contested Charisma test won.

The wizard ground his teeth as he reached out with the book for me. I took it from his hands. The tome was bound with dyed skin, too delicate to be from a human adult. I used my new Perks on it and found it was elven skin.

A page from the middle was marked with a thin bamboo paddle but I ignored it and went from the beginning. It started with the author’s self-introduction and a minor curse engraved between the lines that didn’t take on me. The text attempted to paint the author as someone fearsome and claimed many deeds and epic feats to his name. It seemed that most of them were embellishments or outright lies.

Mindful that I was using up (wasting) time in the Imperial throne room, I flipped the pages, using {Pinnacle of Mind} to speed-read the book. More crap about the monsters the author killed, which may be useful to determine which creatures should be added to my summoning collection. If the accounts about the monsters I knew weren’t completely off the mark. As I drew closer to the bamboo marker, I started to doubt the worth of this book as an actual source of magical knowledge.

His autobiography ended and the research reports started. Human experimentation. Blood mutations. Blood parasites and unsavory applications of blood magic. The number of vagrants, bandits, and slum inhabitants this guy killed in his quest for knowledge was staggering. I would burn the book right then if it wasn’t for the fact Percival shouldn’t know magic.

The paddle marked the start of the spell sections. Were it not for my stubbornness, I could’ve skipped all the crap of the first half of the book. But doing as he wanted was unacceptable. I wouldn’t dance this wicked wizard’s waltz.

The first three spells were easy to understand. {Exsanguinate} caused a wound to bleed profusely, applying a sustained bleed debuff and preventing the wound from healing or regenerating. {Lacerate} borrowed a bit from Flesh magic, tearing open a wound. And {Boil Blood} which mixed Fire and Blood magic to do exactly as it said on the tin. It boiled a target’s blood inside their own body, dealing raw damage and fire damage. Even if the creature was immune to Fire, {Boil Blood} would damage them at half the efficiency.

As I studied the spells, I learned one curiosity regarding Blood magic. My {Corrupted Blood Resistance} worked against it, for Blood magic was all about corrupting one’s blood. Maybe this school of magic had demonic origins, who knew? Perhaps the author of this book was a demon cultist. It would explain the elf skin on the cover. At the same time, I knew this was just half of what Blood magic could do. Wicked men used their tools for wicked means.

“Are you done, Your Highness? Can you cast blood magic now?” The grinning wizard asked, his demeanor bordering impudence.

I knew I could trace the easiest of them, {Exsanguinate}. “If this heretical tome is anything useful, which I doubt. The diagrams appear faulty and the scribblings of a madman. Are you setting me up to fail?” I accused. “Because this is something I would expect to find in the hands of a deranged demon cultist in the Scorched Continent, not in the heart of the Empire. And what is this disgusting leather? Elf skin?”

The mage reached for the book, I moved it away from him.

“Answer me. I am sure father and the assembled nobles wish to hear your answer. Are the spell diagrams in this book functional, or are you just wasting everyone’s time?”

The mage glared at me. His cronies in robes would’ve mobbed me if I weren’t a [Prince]. The ball was on his court. Furious, the head wizard snapped his finger.

“Bring the prisoners!”

In a classical Imperial fashion, I saw the guards drag a family of peasants before the throne. The nobles seemed horrified by the presence of commoners, some even moving away from the guards’ path. A father, a mother, and two children, a boy and a girl both no older than eight years old. Their feet were chained together but their hands were free, and they hugged each other as if they could protect themselves from the cruel and powerful people in this room.

> > Level 16 male human [Cobbler]

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> > Level 12 female human [Washer]

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> I had no System information on the children.

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> The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

While that happened, I scanned the room. Father was watching the scene like it was a late-night soap opera. The [Wizard] observed my every reaction, looking for signs of weakness he could exploit.

“Why do you bring commoners before the Imperial throne?” I asked the mage, outraged. “They soil my father’s marble with their presence.”

He snickered, sensing blood on the water, “You won’t have to suffer them long, Your Highness. These criminals were sentenced to death.”

In the Empire, compassion was a capital sin.

A weak heart was a hundred-meter-wide shooting target ripe for exploitation. For an Imperial Prince, these commoners should be worse than garbage, for garbage at least had the decency to stay where it was and not chase you down. Garbage didn’t talk, cry, or plea for their lives.

I could play out the scene. The wizard wanted to make me kill the children with blood magic. He wanted to see me fail before my father. The joke was on him. I was more than capable of remorseless killing these people, father, mother, and siblings. To me, death was a revolving door.

Using my new telepathy, I talked to them without moving a muscle. I didn’t use Percival’s voice, however. Arista the Siren was better suited for this task.

The wife broke down in tears, hugging each other.

Silently, I used {Sorcery} to place a {Pain Suppression} spell on all four, from the Mindbender's grimoire. The spell was undetectable but by the most talented casters. Nobody in this room matched that description.

“Behold,” the [Wizard] said. He traced in the air, his fingers leaving a glowing light that created a spell diagram just like the one in the book. “Lacerate!”

The father’s chest burst open, the skin and muscle parting like the waters of the Red Sea. The man screamed in terror as the mother sheltered her children’s eyes from the horror.

With maniacally glazed eyes, the wizard continued, with a second spell circle. “Exsanguinate!” He was enjoying every second of what was happening, intoxicated by the power of Blood magic.

The father’s body became a dried husk as a gallon of blood left his body through the open wound. Without an utterance, the body flopped on the floor. The blood floated in the air as a perfect red sphere.

“Your turn, Your Highness,” he snickered and chuckled, wicked as a devil.

The bastard killed the man, leaving me to murder a woman and children. But he was looking at me like I was a juicy burger and he, a monk going out to dinner after a month of fasting. That only reinforced my belief that he wanted to usurp my talent. Either steal it or make me his apprentice.

“You mistake me for a petty executioner,” I scoffed. “There’s no glory in slaughtering lambs, especially those in chains. Guards, release the woman from her manacles!”

I walked next to the group. The guards were confused as to whom they should obey and that was unacceptable.

“An [Imperial Prince] gave you an order. {Obey me, or I’ll have you killed before these commoners}!” I laced my words with magic as I put a {Royal Order} on them.

The guards hastily released the woman. Before they were done, I was already in front of her.

“I’ll give you one choice,” I told her.

the Matriarch’s voice spoke in her mind.

She lowered her head, “Your Highness is just and merciful, I can see it in your eyes. I accept,” She jumped the gun. I hadn’t even proposed yet.

“You’ll fight me. Can you wield a dagger? Good. You and you,” I pointed at two guards after she nodded. “Hand me a dagger, and give another to this woman. Today she’ll have the honor of dying to my hand. Though she is not worthy of dueling an [Imperial Prince], I crave for a fight after all this snickering and sniveling from crooked old men.”

The guards gave us their daggers and dragged the children away.

The woman jumped at me like a feral lioness defending her cubs. Which she was. Mindful of what Percival should be capable of, I dodged her swing and slashed her arm, opening a gash near her shoulder. She roared, the indignation, humiliation, and outrage at their situation mixed with the grief of losing her husband. Like the beast I likened her to, she used her steel claws to tear at my flesh. But Percival was her superior in skill and training. Her common Class granted almost no Attribute bonuses whatsoever and her grip on the dagger was clumsy.

The cuts on her increased as each failed attack gave me an opening to attack. I tripped her, making a show for the exalted spectators as if I was toying with my prey.

The Matriarch urged the woman to keep fighting.

She actually roared and waved her borrowed dagger, desperate to get a hit in. her lack of control made her extremely predictable as she telegraphed every move. I knew she wasn’t feeling any pain but the children didn’t need to hear their mother screaming like a wild animal. This theater had gone on for too long.

I sidestepped another wild swing and drove my dagger deep into her throat. I then slashed it so it would rupture her windpipe and all the blood vessels on one side. The woman slumped on the ground.

“Your Highness, while we admire your combat prowess and fearlessness, this was supposed to be a display of your magic talents,” the [Wizard] mocked. Some nobles laughed.

“Oh, my bad. I was engrossed in the heat of battle, the way true men fight their fights,” with my back to the woman, I snarled at him. “But have it your way, {Exsanguinte}!”

The woman’s blood left her body, including the splatters on the throne room, on me, the guards, and even the children’s rags.

> For killing level 12 Washer, you gained 200,156 Exp (Base 17,500 x10 Fast-Learner x3.05 Favored Enemy x0.75 rank x0.5 Class rarity).

I adjusted my displayed level to eight, to reflect the 17,500 Exp I should’ve gained from her, without any multipliers.

I took two glass vials from my item box, making it seem it came from a fake storage ring I was wearing. With them, I collected a blood sample out of the floating orbs from wife and husband. That’s all I needed to bring them back to life as the souls were already following me.

“Is this enough?” staring into his eyes, I asked the mage.

“No. You need to punish the other prisoners as well,” the enraged mage replied as he pointed at the sobbing children.

I glanced at my father. The [Emperor] stared at me with a stern face. Then he nodded, giving the death sentence. He wanted to see how I’d kill children.

> > Compartmentalized Mind

Using Apricot’s special condition’s power, I shunted my compassion and other “soft” emotions away from my mind. The cold-blooded killer once called “Death Princess” made another appearance as I went to the children with the dagger coated in their mother’s blood. With two swift punches, I drove the long and thin blade through their brain stems from behind. The quickest and least painful death one could have. Beheading left the head alive for a few seconds, with all the trauma of seeing one’s surroundings from the perspective of a rolling ball.

As I ripped the dagger out, I cut a lock of hair, immediately putting it in the item box. Nobody saw that.

“There, the punishment is complete,” I challenged the mage. I was about to break.

“You were supposed to display your Blood magic!” He barked back.

Have it your way. I opened the floodgates and let my true magic out. Staring at the mage, I uttered as loud as I could, “I {challenge} you! {Boil Blood}!”

> > Contested Charisma test won. Contested Ego test won. Champion’s Challenge activated.

The [Wizard] threw his head back, the mouth wide open as every blood vessel exposed to air burst and hissed as water vapor erupted from him like a cracked steam engine. Hissing from a thousand wounds, he collapsed on the ground as copious amounts of steam left his drying convulsing body.

> For killing level 78 Court Wizard, you earned 7.7 trillion Exp (Base 5,179,186 x10,000 Fast-learner x3.05 Challenge x3.05 Favored Enemy x8 Rank x2 Class Rarity)

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> You reached Anima Lancer (2nd rank) level 20.

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> You ranked up. All unallocated Exp divided by 1,000,000.

>

> You reached Anima Lancer (3rd rank) level 7.

When the clouds dissipated, only a cooked dried husk was left behind. I spat on it. Silence reigned in the throne room.

“Suffer not the fool,” I said as his epitaph, my words echoing in the large chamber.

I looked up, “I hope that’s enough of a demonstration, father. I’m taking the book with me if you don’t mind.”

“You did well, my son. I’m impressed.”

The [Emperor] smiled. All was well in the Empire.