Chapter 19: Staff or Wand?

The next few days of travel were harsh on my old bones. We walked through the underbrush, avoiding the roads. Although I now had a spell that allowed me to disguise myself, this part of the kingdom was quiet enough that any travellers would be worthy of investigation, and I didn’t know how well an illusion might fool a Paladin in the service of a light god, with truth sensing abilities.

Dante still wasn’t talking to me. He was holding a grudge, although he now had full control over the demon within, he didn’t approve of being linked to one at all. He had, over the last day, started playing again; composing some sort of lament but he wouldn’t divulge the subject.

Given so much time to think, I finally got round to selecting my Class Skills/Spells. It appeared, so far, I gained a class spell every level ending in a five and an ability with every level ending in a zero. I couldn’t say how that might change at higher levels. It was also evident that the attribute points from levelling up were put into perception without my intention. Whether that was because of how I had earned the level, or through a subconscious desire, I knew not, but was determined to find out. Yet another reason I wished to travel to more civilised parts.

When choosing my Lv.10 Class ability, the Passive Skill, Water Resistance, I was forced to choose between: Water Resistance, Cold Resistance, and Earth Resistance. Each giving greater defence against their respective schools of magic. Since my bones were nigh indestructible, I chose based on their additional effects.

Earth Resistance made traversing hash terrain easier, a tempting prospect. Cold Resistance would decrease the environmental damage from frost and snow, doubly pointless for an undead in what seemed to be the summer. Finally, Water Resistance offered the ability to better move in water or through rain. I chose this because I had no idea how my new body might behave in water. My bones no longer contained blood so the marrow would be full of air, I might just float. Then again bone marrow is like a sponge, if there was any way for water to get in I may end up stuck at the bottom of a lake.

Then I had to choose my Lv.20 Class abilities, this choice was much tougher. The two I hadn’t selected were still available but now they were joined by three new options. Soul Manipulation, Paralysing Touch, and Undead Fear. The last was out, as I had no ambition to go around scaring the daylights out of people, I’d rather remain undetected. Paralysing Touch, did as the name implied, only really useful in combat or if one has an unwilling test subject. Soul Manipulation was interesting. I knew a spell to paralyse and had used it often but to see someone's soul, that touched on necromancy and all records of such spells had been destroyed, or at least I had never found them. It would be most useful in my research. If one’s mana was a ship, the soul was the captain. I could see the ship, understand its course and heading but I couldn’t see the captain. I knew he was there and could infer what he wanted from the direction of the ship. But if I could ask him directly… I would understand so much more. The manipulation part I found less appealing, perhaps it was supposed to be used to create undead which were not mindless but I had no intention to do that.

Next was the class spell, being a mage class apparently entitled me to spells without the training or practice. I had been granted Necrotizing Bolt as a Lv.1 Lich and had earned a new spell at level 15. Perhaps that first spell had covered Lv.5 and I would receive another at Lv.25 or I obtained one every 14 or 15 levels, depending whether you counted Lv.1.

I was again presented with three options, Freezing Mists, Poisonous Breath, and Bone Armour. The first two were boring spells any mage might cast but the last interested me. It summoned bones from the netherworld and fashioned them into armour. I wanted to see how this world's magic might form such a portal. In my home world, any form of dimensional manipulation would be mana intensive because it would have to punch a hole through reality. That said, the mana difference between a portal the size of a man, and one the size of a pinhole, was negligible. Breaching the plane was the costly part. I selected Bone Armour without much more thought.

Like a child at Fastening, I rushed through the mana patterns I had acquired with the spell, giddy with excitement. Dante shot me looks, then jumped back in surprise when the magic activated. Instead of slicing the vale, as I expected, my mana interacted with the magical plane - superimposed upon this world - they intermingled, before sliding out of reality. Moments later, my mana shot back out through the black, inky puddle that had surrounded me. In its clutches were a plethora of different sized bones, from a variety of creatures; rotten flesh still attached, that rose to form a chestplate around my centre.

It took two hours of constant washing in a stream to remove the prevailing smell from my robes. The whole time Dante kept his distance. Despite the grotesque outcome I was excited, I had learned something. What it was I couldn’t yet tell, I would have to let my thoughts sit in the back of my mind; until they formed a new hypothesis about interdimensional travel.

In its intended structure the spell consumed 2% of my total mana, not an inconsiderable amount, in my younger days that may have been the greater part of my pool. I experimented with different spell variables as we travelled. The first thing I managed to do was change the spell's target so I could summon the armour about a tree, instead of myself.

The nights sped by as I tested. In what felt like no time to me, I was able to alter the spell. Putting more mana into the working would increase the coverage of the armour. First, there would be a helmet, then greaves, and finally a full suit. This included gauntlets, which used tiny finger bones to cover the joints. Despite how they appeared, the strength of the armour seemed to maintain uniformity and increased proportionally to mana usage.

Changing the pattern of the spell, and imbuing it with intent, I was eventually able to summon bones which were completely clean, although the process took longer. Perhaps the spell had to find bones which matched my directions? Using a similar method, but with thinner strands of mana, I was able to change the type of armour summoned. This knowledge was gifted to me by the System. The three options the spell came with were: a heavy set of bone plate, a medium set with chest plate and helm, and a lighter set that seemed to use some kind of fish scale as a durable chain mail. With some finagling I was able to mix and match as required, even able to just summon a fishmail hauberk.

In my final test, using half of my mana and aiming for the heaviest version, something amazing happened. A flawless set of white armour, with black runes that matched my own, arose menacingly from the inky portal. It was a scrimshaw's masterpiece, intricate engravings covering the borders and plates, thin but strong, they slid frictionless against one another. But best of all, what made this set both light and incredibly tough, was that each bone came from a different magical beast. These were perfect ingredients for any number of spells, with the added side effect of spell resistance. With avarice, I clawed at the set. Unfortunately, whenever I did remove a piece it would slip back into that black void, disappearing from my hands.

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As it turned out, there were some limits to this type of summoning which I couldn’t bypass. None of the materials could remain for more than an hour in our plane and once separated from the man which maintained the spell they would immediately return. Unfortunately the mana that held them here also prevented me from using the bones to cast spells.

Dejected, I slumped to the ground with a sigh. As if to cheer me up the System chimed in.

Congratulations:

* Bone Armour has reached Lv.20 (max)

* Soul Manipulation has reached Lv.2

* Title upgraded, Savant II

At least that was something. As I had been casting I was observing the movements of my own soul, unfortunately I didn’t learn much as I already had an innate sense for what it was doing. Observing Dante’s connection to that demon was interesting, but only for so long. Not being a mage, the only change I noted was an apparent altering of colour that came with mood. He still appeared red when looking at me.

Wind Breath and Shocking Aura were last on my list of spells to experiment with as they were boring elemental spells. Having exhausted the possibilities with the summoning spell, I turned my attention to Illusionary Skin. This was incredibly useful, although far tricker than any of the other spells. It required me to maintain a shell about myself which shielded me from light and projected out an image of a living humanoid that matched my bone shape, in my case a human. The problem was: it required me to constantly move mana through a pattern whilst moving, walking, talking, and casting other spells. It was hard, even for me. Although I had practised mana manipulation in life, I had only done so on its own. I leapt at the challenge, at first the illusion would drop whenever my mind wandered, which in the silence of travel was far too often. But after only three days I was able to maintain it while casting two Wind Breaths simultaneously. It wasn't quite second nature but it was getting there.

I had chosen the appearance of an older man, still straight of back, with white hair, bushy eyebrows, a long beard and sparkling blue eyes that gave off a grandfatherly air. It was my long dead master's visage. I did this for two reasons: first, it matched my monk's robe, and second, it was incredibly difficult to remember one's own features well enough to replicate, at least for me. Seeing his image again brought back a bitter warmth that was both suffocating and yet I couldn’t get enough of it.

Finally, we ran out of shrubberies in which to skulk. The final copse of trees, before the land turned flat, surrounded a long abandoned manor house. As night once again relented to daybreak, we took shelter. Dante and I had returned to brief and stilted conversation; I could see the anger in his soul melting. Frankly, I was surprised that he had stuck with me. The nearest road seemed bustling and, from a signpost I had sneaked a look at, we were only a few miles from our first proper city.

☠

A sound startled us from the unrest which made up our days.

“What was that?” asked Dante, tense.

“I smell humans, two of them,” he answered himself. He seemed annoyed at the possession of his mouth, but such open questions might be considered implicit consent.

“I’ll check it out,” I said, as we heard the door to the manor open in the basement hideout. “My spell should protect me from the sunlight.” Although I hadn’t yet tested it, it should work.

The enchantment had worked when I infiltrated Market Basing, but that connected me to a member of the living - immune to the woes of sunlight.

I took silent steps up the stone steps, each step stepped on in step with the footsteps above. Reaching the wooden door, I pushed it open gently. Holes in the walls flooded me with sunlight. I clamped my mandible shut, closing my figurative eyes. Nothing happened. I let out a silent breath of relief.

Dodging rubble and pressing against walls, I navigated the maze of ruined rooms towards the voices.

“A wand is far better than any staff,” a boy bragged boisterously.

“Like hell it is!” another retorted, “you can’t nearly get the power from a wand that you can a staff.”

“So what? All that power means nothing, without finesse even a zombie would see your spells coming a mile away,” the first jibed.

There was a moment of quiet, then a thud.

“Oww. That hurt,” the first complained.

“Didn’t see that coming, did you,” the second replied smugly.

Poking my head around a crumbling corner, I saw the two lads - dressed in nondescript blue robes. They were between fourteen and fifteen. One was rubbing his head whilst the other was laughing. Having seen my fair share of apprentices, I decided to interject before this got out of hand. Learning from past mistakes, I limited the amount of mana visible in my core to that of myself, when I was a court magus.

“That’s quite enough of that,” I declared in the tone my master had used when the other apprentices would pick on me. The one who was looking the other way jumped at my sudden rebuke but the other zipped his laughter, knowing he was in trouble.

“Sorry…Sir?” the Staff wielding child asked, uncertain.

Falling into the character, I chided the boys, “Backs straight, heads up. Is that anyway for a young magi to stand.”

The two looked confused for some reason.

“What's a magi?” the boy holding the Wand asked.

“Oh,”I thought to myself, “how did they not know, it was the common word for any magic user… wait how are we speaking the same language? Are we speaking the same language or is this an effect of the System? I could understand its messages but I’d never been to this world before,” I was roused from my introspection by a whisper as quiet as boom powder.

“It must be some kind of Monk Class,” the staff supporter told the wand wielder, somehow thinking his hand in any way dampened the hissing. The pair looked me up and down sceptically before whispering as if I wasn’t there.

“I thought they might have sent a professor to spy on us, this our first assignment,” Wand explained to Staff.

“Not a chance, look at him,” Staff replied.

“But he’s got plenty of mana,” Wand insisted.

“So what?” the other asked.

“Aren't apostles supposed to channel their deities mana?” Wand questioned.

The other thought for a moment.

“Maybe he worships a magic god?” Staff finally responded.

“With a death affinity?” Wand asked.

“Maybe he stole the robes,” Staff supposed.

Having decided that it was likely an effect of the System, translating for me. I decided to stop their musings before they went too far.

“Ht Humm,” I coughed, regaining the two boys' attention, now with a slight apprehensive fear behind their eyes.