We had no floating platform this time, even with a trio of nobles in the group. The noble dorm was right next to the main building, that might be the reason.
The halfling [Crystallomancer] focused on our bond and talked to me without making a sound.
Barbara smiled as she gripped my cover and adjusted the strap of my dust cover with the other hand.
Collins didn’t say a word as he led us through the broken pathways of the campus. I could tell he was keeping tabs on us, apparently fearful we would run away. The ominous dust cloud lingered in the air, drifting from the city and… out of the rubble? I faintly sensed something nostalgic at the back of my mind regarding that cloud but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
She scrunched her nose at my accurate but crude description of ourselves.
I rebutted with fake indignance.
Barbara poked her tongue out,
The two ladies flanked us. "It seems the two of you are having a heated conversation. Care to share?" Eleanora probed as she poked Barbara on the side.
"Nethe was bragging about the savory pastry he baked for breakfast," Barbara explained.
The smaller woman swooned and whined. "I want some too!"
"Elly, I am sure we can convince Netherbane to bake for us later. Now, can you keep it down? Mr. Collins is staring at you," Elizabeth remarked.
"Promise?" Eleanora stared at me.
Before I could morph the proper appendage to reply, Barbara did. "Nethe would be delighted." She stared at one of the tiny eyes on the edge of my spine.
I conceded with a sigh.
*
----------------------------------------
*
As we entered the main building, I noticed some staff next to the door frame, affixing wooden rulers with enchantments to keep the dust from entering the building. The same strips of wood were already in place around the window frames, a temporary stopgap until the proper enchantments could be added to the suite of effects lingering around the building. I recognized some of mom's insights on enchanting. The rulers had a small sequence that made the new additions subordinate to the other enchantments, in case of a conflict of resonance.
The group walked in silence along the corridors until we reached the same room as before. The disciplinary committee meeting room. I could imagine the cantankerous [Archmages] rubbing their beards with foot lotion behind the door, getting ready to grind us to dust.
Last time Mr. Collins was on our side. From his body language, I had almost no hope the trend would remain. The man stopped before the door and turned around to talk to us. "Things changed because of the catastrophe that struck the city. There's a panel of faculty members inside and the room might be a little cramped but it's the only room that still has a complete set of working enchantments. The rest of the building is under varying degrees of repair. I expect the four of you to be on your best behavior," he finished.
Four, huh? Was he excluding me or counting me as part of Barbara?
The mood was solemn and quiet. Any conversations were held telepathically but one could cut the tension with a butter knife. This was not a medal award session, no sir. I saw a lot of faces I knew and even more, I only saw from afar. Whitebeard, Disheveled, and Snappin' Potions Teacher were sitting in the middle of the U-shaped room, with a lot of faculty on the sides. I recognized Daisy Dorlaminn and Mrs. Cormack on one side, while Mrs. Blatherwick sat right next to the brooding brewing [Archmage] with a mustache on his forehead. An empty chair next to the left end of the U and four smack in the middle were empty. Three human-sized chairs and one taller for halflings.
The people took their seats and I felt dozens of {Appraise} attempts fired at either Barbara or me. I remembered how well the last meeting ended. With me pissing all over and around the white-bearded [Archmage]. Druxius if memory serves.
I snaked a few ribbons up the creases of Barbara's robe and popped tiny eyes at their ends, giving me a full vision of the whole room.
After everyone was seated and paying attention, he started. They blabbered about some solemn session and read some preambles from dusty tomes and followed their archaic rites and so on. I noticed they didn't offer a prayer to the Matriarch, such secular heathens they were. Finally, a reinforced, communal-cast {Zone of Truth} spell covered the room and he got to the point.
"We are here today to debrief the only delving team to survive the second cataclysm, as the recent events are being called by [Historians]," he said. "Mrs. Blatherwick submitted her report, and it brought to light worrisome facts. We summoned you four here today to shed some light on these facts."
The trio stared at Barbara, who shrunk an inch in her chair.
The researcher nodded. Druxius stated, "The chair recognizes [Archamge] Thydor."
"Is it true that the God of Monsters is active in the Labyrinth?" Thydor, the eternally disheveled researcher asked. His imperious stance and voice tone told me he now had the upper hand. I didn't forget he wanted to dissect me for the sake of "science".
"The chair summons Student Ambrose to reply," The presiding hirsute [Archmage] droned.
"Miss Ambrose?" He insisted.
"We had an encounter with a shrine of Bit, the Guardian Urchin, God of Challenges, Dungeons, and keeper of Monsters," she started with the deity full title. This shrine was at the mouth of a side tunnel that led to a mushroom biome in the Labyrinth, a gift from Bit to the delvers. My familiar explored this biome and found dozens of new species of fungi he deemed useful for crafting, enchanting, and alchemy."
It sounded too rehearsed. It probably was. Did mom coach Barbara, foreseeing this assholery of an inquisitorial session? And it was tailored to tug the strings of the enemy of all hair combs.
"Di-did he collect samples?" Thydor stuttered his thoughts out loud. Barbara grinned, not confirming or denying his question. Thydor glared at Blatherwick. Blatherwick flinched. Druxius flexed his unibrow.
Barbara ignored that and continued, "I'm sorry if I'm reading too much into the [Archmage]'s question but I don't believe Bit was responsible for what happened. The Guardian Urchin's Ethos was always to keep dangerous monsters away from population centers, even before he ascended into godhood with the Matriarch's help. History tells us that cities with a strong temple to Him never suffered a stampede."
Daisy beamed triumphantly, like a soccer mom when her kid scores a goal. Silently, of course. Nobody wanted to be in the [Archmages]' crosshairs.
The two [Archmages] shared a glance and a small number of telepathic messages between them, and the meeting moved on. Druxius once again droned, "Your chaperone's report states you came into possession of several wondrous artifacts, Ambrose. Were they acquired in the Labyrinth?"
"No," she replied with a single word.
> > You gained 2 points of Appraiser.
I would like to state that the {Appraise} attempts hadn't stopped for a single moment. It seemed that half the faculty in attendance were tasked with the impossible job of breaking our protections. I was sure they were gaining a lot of Proficiency for their trouble, but I was protected by the mere fact that I had 500% faster proficiency gains. They were training against me while I was being flooded with their attempts. To sum it up, I was growing faster than they were, widening the gap they had to overcome.
"Where are they from, then?" He insisted.
"Nethe, The Netherbane Syllabus, my familiar, gave them to me. The objects were crafted by his mother."
I sensed a small fluctuation on the {Zone of Truth} spell. Druxius was checking if it was working as intended.
"Netherbane's mother was mentioned on our previous meeting. Care to explain who she is?"
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
"I'm sorry, [Archmage]. She wishes to remain anonymous," she tried to sound contrite but failed.
Differently from our previous meeting, Barbara had not a smidgen of fear. It seems that learning the truth had emboldened her. I also knew they were pissed at us for the way I treated them at the end of the last meeting.
"I insist, Student Ambrose," he glared at her.
"I'm sorry I can't comply, sir. I cannot name her, Headmaster. For I'm under a voluntary [Geas]. She predicted you would make that a point, and left a message for you. If you allow me, I'll quote her verbatim."
"Go ahead," he grunted.
Barbara cleared her throat. "I quote,
> Is this the hill you want to die on, old man? You and I have a grudge to settle, don't make me show myself, or I'll make sure to collect it. I really hope you hadn't forgotten what you did to me.
", that's her message to its full extent, Headmaster."
She made a good impression, I thought. But I could see people didn't agree with my evaluation of Barbara's voice-acting ability.
Whitebeard sputtered. The {Appraise} attempts slowed down as several heads turned to study his reaction. Interestingly, the three noble students playing mum next to us shared glances of complicity.
"INSOLENCE!" Whitebeard exploded as he stood on his seat, causing his chair to tilt and fall backward.
Mustache-bangs stood up too and clamped his friend's shoulder. "Don't give them what they want," he whispered in Druxius' ear.
Fuming, he levitated his chair back to its place and dropped his wrinkled butt on it. "Very well. As the president of this session, I'll change the order of items in our meeting's schedule. Miss Ambrose, stand."
Standing up actually made her head lower than when on the chair.
"Take three steps ahead."
I feared it would put her within spittle distance. Who knew what kind of magical germs lived in archmage-geezer's drool.
> > You gained 1 point of Appraiser.
A windfall. We should have these inquisition sessions every day.
"Barbara Ambrose," he started in his lowest record, a deep bass that was meant to sound ominous and foreboding. "You are accused of trespassing into my personal vaults and stealing an important cursed artifact from it."
Took him long enough to check on the vault.
Barbara spent a few moments thinking before she delivered the perfect rebuttal. "I stole nothing, Headmaster. I admit I entered an abandoned, open, and unguarded vault without any defensive wards, but I stole nothing from it."
"You stole my book!" He accused. "I believe this cursed book I had sealed in the vault is what you call 'mother' of this mimic you have for a familiar!" She said nothing. "Answer me!"
Turns out we weren't out of spittle distance. Not when he was roaring like that. Nothing fell on Barbara though I sensed the shields ready to spring into action and keep her safe from contracting that man's cooties.
"Sorry, sir," she said without meeting his eyes. "I didn't understand the question."
He slammed the desk. "When you entered the vault, was there a book in it?"
"Yes."
"Did you make contact with that book?"
"Yes."
"Did you carry the book with you when you left?"
"No."
"Were the book inside the vault after you left?"
She grunted as the spell told her what she was about to answer was a lie. "You must rephrase the question, Headmaster. Obviously, the book is no longer in the vault or we wouldn't be having this conversation. Sometime after I left, the book was vacated from the premises. Was it my on my designs? I am certain it was not."
Now it was Mr. Collins' time to be proud of her. Barbara wriggled herself out of that trap with aplomb.
The Headmaster ground his teeth. "Certainly, Miss Ambrose. Do you know how the book vacated the vault?"
"Yes."
"Care to enlighten us?" He sniggered. "To avoid ambiguity. Please tell us how did the book vacate the vault."
"It floated by itself."
Someone in the gallery snorted a single peal of laughter.
He seemed satisfied enough. The [Archmage] then sprung his other trap. "Was your book familiar born from that book from the vault?"
"I didn't witness the moment it was born. I was unconscious," she misdirected. It didn't work.
"Answer the question," he said with an 'ah-ha!' tone of voice like he'd finally caught us.
She reluctantly did, "Yes. Nethe was born out of that book."
I was confused as to why she tried too hard to keep that little inconsequential tidbit out of the Headmaster's grasp but it was due to my lack of understanding of the sentient mind. I mean, I was a book and I was less than a year old.
The [Archmage] relaxed on his chair. "I want my books back," he demanded. "Your punishment for trespassing will be dealt with at a later meeting."
Barbara sniffled, and I almost ground that snug bearded grin into Exp right there and then. "No. You can't," she whimpered as she clutched me close to her.
He pointed at me as greed flashed in his eyes. Barbara's eyes were shut. The girl trembled.
"I can. Hand over both books. They are my property!"
My anger was immense. I felt my pages on fire.
Not only he was hurting Barbara but also threatening to split us apart. Mom had killed stronger people for less. I had to exercise all my restraint to stop myself from turning the whole room into Exp for Barbara and me. I knew the kind girl wouldn't like it if I did that. That was the only lifeline they had right now.
But before I could reach a decision and take action, something happened.
"OBJECTION!" A male tenor voice shouted. A faint memory flashed. Ace... something?
*
----------------------------------------
*
Lord Isaac Hamilton stood from his chair and shouted. Eleanora was thrilled while Elizabeth couldn't believe he had the gall to interject. But interject he did.
Druxius glowered at the young noble. "Lord Hamilton, you have no right to object."
"I do, sir," he rebutted and flashed the sponsorship contract. "This morning, right before we were summoned to this inquisitorial charade, Miss Ambrose signed a sponsorship contract with our three Houses. As Royal Law states, a sponsor has to lend legal aid to their wards. You made a criminal accusation against Miss Ambrose and now are on the verge of committing a crime yourself. I cannot let this happen if I want to keep my conscience clear.
"Therefore, I nominate myself her attorney, unless one of the other two sponsor Houses next to me object to it."
"We don't," Elizabeth quickly said as she grasped Eleanora's hand, causing the other Lady to nod.
I felt Barbara's heart skip a beat. She was Hamilton's fangirl, I dourly reminded myself.
"Give me that document!" The cantankerous wizard demanded. The session was adjourned for several minutes although nobody left their seats. The Headmaster poured over the contract and fumed but eventually relented. "We recognize your right to give miss Ambrose legal aid. State your case," he grumbled.
"I'll remind everyone present that as a Lord of the Crown, I am also an Agent of the Crown. Headmaster, dear [Archmages], does this Academy condone slavery?"
The church might be corrupt, I might be powerless to clean it up, but the core tenements remain. Everywhere the Matriarch has a strong presence, slavery is banned.
"That's preposterous! Of course, we do not!" The Headmaster quickly denied it.
"Then why do you lay claim to two sentient creatures? Netherbane Syllabus and his mother are both sentient creatures. That they take the shape of books is not an issue according to the law. The only requirements are the ability to behave in society and maintain rational thought. We know for a fact that Netherbane and his mother displayed these characteristics several times. The book mimic on Miss Ambrose's lap even healed our delving party, which I know is part of Mrs. Blatherwick's report."
"It's a monster!" Druxius retorted with an accusing finger pointed at me.
Isaac sighed, "The King's law state that a monster is, and I quote, 'a vicious creature with which it is impossible to parlay, that desires harm upon sentient people'. Netherbane does not fit this description. Netherbane is capable of humor, kindness, compassion, leadership. And so does his mother, I believe."
I sensed he was forced to add the last two words to skirt around the truth spell. Several teachers, especially those focused on social sciences, nodded. The Headmaster was quickly losing his case but he still had a few cards to play.
"They are not a recognized species. Go ahead, young Lord. By all means, make the Crown recognize book mimics as a sentient species. While you are there—"
Isaac had the gall to interrupt the [Archmage] as he dropped a bomb, "While I am there, I'll also report I'd found two new Transcendentals, Headmaster. I know for a fact that Netherbane has {The Leader}. Miss Ambrose might also be a Transcendental..."
Barbara flinched and wheezed. With the reveal, the pressure of all those {Appraise} attempts became massive.
> > You gained 3 points of Appraiser.
"...No. Let me correct myself. Miss Ambrose is too a Transcendental," Isaac stated after his probing speculation yielded fruit. He grinned and stared at the ceiling, savoring his success.
The [Archmage] stared at the halfling girl. "Are you?" Druxius would shoot eye lasers if he had the power.
"Yes, I am a Transcendental," Barbara admitted. "And so is Nethe. Lord Hamilton is correct."
"I am filing a petition to have the Crown knight both of them," Isaac revealed. "As you know, all Transcendentals in the country are awarded a title, the least of them being [Knight]. Go ahead, Headmaster. Claim both book creatures while you can."
I suspected keeping nobles as slaves due to a legal loophole was bound to attract bad things. Especially from the other nobles. They were a tightly-knit group when it came to defending their rights from other groups.
I raised a ribbon and morphed a cartoonish face made of lace to avoid the "uncanny valley", a concept I read about in mom's book. I had to nail the Headmaster's coffin. "I have a confession to make. I have three Transcendental Perks of the Attribute {Capstone} series. Charisma, Ego, and Luck."
"Attribute {Capstone} Series?" Thydor gasped. "Are you implying there are more?"
"Yes, my dear [Archmage]. The System calls these Perks {Capstone}. But your definition of Transcendental Perks, the Perks one is born with, allegedly a boon from previous lives. I can affirm they are indeed boons from previous lives, the Church of the Matriarch is correct on this issue. These are the easiest ones to obtain. Reach the level cap of one hundred, and you'll have your pick among those Attributes whose base value is at least equal to a hundred points. Class bonuses don't count."
Thydor was in awe and so were several of the teachers in attendance. I could see some of them were dismayed, their current build too messed up to become eligible for a {capstone} Perk. Silence reigned in the room as I could see several pairs of eyes unfocusing as people delved deep into their Status windows.
"Of course, there's a way to make these Class bonuses count, but it is a hard one and demands a few free Perk picks. I can't tell you what it is, though. Not in this hostile environment!"
Then I rested my case and stared at the [Archmage].
The self-imposed win condition for this scenario was to get out of this without any heavy sanctions imposed on us and without revealing my true self. I mean, my true self was a [Bibliomimic]. Let me rephrase it. Without revealing I was the Goddess' reincarnation. We might get it.
Of course, I had to jinx it. The Headmaster decided that yes, that was the hill he wished to die on.
"I cannot accept this! The book monster is ly--unn--gah! Argh!" He stood, once more tipping the chair loudly on the floor. "He's ly-ugh-guh-gzzz." Then he choked on his own {Zone of Truth} spell.
The spell lost stability and came close to unraveling and sending a nasty backlash to the casters. They could stabilize it since they had three [Archmages] in the gestalt. But I could also interfere and magnify the backlash, killing all of them.
However, I couldn't do that. I would gain their Exp and level up, dragging Barbara along with me. She would never forgive me. So instead, I hijacked the backlash.
I surreptitiously snagged the spell with my magic and used the innate understanding of Curse magic from my evolution. Taking advantage of the backlash caused by the caster trying to subvert his own spell, I tugged and twisted as I tinkered with the {Zone of Truth} spell. People were distracted and it took a special kind of magical perception to see what I was doing if I was an amateur.
But I had hundreds upon hundreds of Proficiency points in furtivity.
Moments later, as Druxius had almost recovered his bearings but before the Truth spell could stabilize, I was finished. The Curse flowed through the spell framework, upriver on the mana streams, and found its way back to the casters.
Then hell broke out. Druxius, Thydor, mustachio-forehead, and other teachers, Mrs. Blatherwick included, screamed in pain as my retributive and vengeful gift found its way into their beings.
> Curse of Psychological Ineptitude.
>
> This curse does not show on the target's status window unless it is detected.
>
> Detection Difficulty: 780
>
> Caster's Magic Score: 382
>
> Dispel Cost Modifier: x3
>
> Sets the Attribute cap of all Mental, Spiritual, and Magical Attributes to (1 - Current Path Bonus).
>
> Sets the Proficiency score of all Magical and Mental Proficiencies to 1.
Something mom had to deal with a lot, even to this date. It didn't matter if you had {Pinnacle of...} and was immune to Attribute drain or damage if the cap was lowered and the System suddenly redistributed your points against your will.
And these points went to the only place they could. Strength, Dexterity, Endurance. They were now the strongest mages of their generation, but their Classes were completely useless. Even if they could form coherent thought with a Mind score of 1, they would never again use magic as they once did. Worse yet, the points would overflow the Physical Attributes and get unceremoniously dumped into {Surpasser}, a hundred at a time.
To me, it was a merciful resolution. They were alive, bodies healthier than ever thanks to their overinflated Endurance. They would never again wield magic, though. Even if they gained some levels, they would still have the Attribute scores of children in the bodies of Olympian Athletes. That they became imbeciles in the clinical sense was of little consequence. To me, they were too smart for their own good.
However, to someone who coveted the mountain peaks of the magical world, they would forever wallow in the shallow marshes. A fate worse than death? Maybe, but they invited doom upon themselves. Such was the nature of their punishment.
To everyone else, it looked like the millennia-old geezer Druxius had finally royally screwed up a spell and caused a massive backlash.
Nobody shall ever dare threaten to separate us without suffering the consequences.