Chapter 37: Changes at the Abbey V
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[THE SILVER SEAT - Tallow Ironworks]
The thing that Vandamme brought out was unlike anything Cain had ever seen before. If he hadn’t introduced it as a weapon, Cain would not have suspected what it was. It was... Well, the best way to describe it would be that it was a metal canister with what looked to be runes scribed onto the sides.
“This,” said Vandamme. “Is something that I had been working on right before things took a turn for the worst for me. It’s something I call Vorpal Black. Sword.”
He held the canister up, and poured out a jet black liquid, right on top of the table. The runes glowed as he did so. Cain and Muse both reacted with surprise, but the mess that they had been expecting simply... didn’t happen.
The dark liquid metamorphosed into a jet black sword. Vandamme gestured to it with his hand, and Cain picked it up. It had a cool, metallic feel to it despite its original appearance. He gently tested its weight by giving it a couple of practice swings.
Strong, yet somehow supple.
“Let go of it,” said Vandamme.
Cain did as he was asked, and let go of the sword, letting it hit the floor. The weapon splashed into black liquid again, and soon after seemed to evaporate on the spot. Cain blinked.
This had to be magic of some kind.
“There are so many weapons out there in the world, of which only a few are used here in Goethia. I was curious to see if I could find a way to use them all,” said Vandamme. “So I got together with a few enchanters from the Wizard’s Tower. Using my smithing techniques and their understanding of essence runes, we managed to create this prototype.”
He gestured to the canister. Cain noticed for the first time that the words carved into it seem to hum with some kind of power. Had it been like that the whole time, or only since Vandamme had activated it?
“Now, call out ‘spear’,” said Vandamme. “While holding your hand over the opening in the canister.”
Cain did so, and to his surprise the canister responded. More of the black liquid came out - but this time they curled around his fingers, searching. Swirling, they flowed into place properly, and before he knew it he was now holding a jet black spear.
“This is amazing...” breathed Cain, his eyes wide. “This is... This is an armoury in a can!”
“There are drawbacks, of course,” said Vandamme. “I only fed it four weapons. Sword, spear, shield; as well as bow and arrows. Those are currently the only forms it can take. The material that it uses refills automatically over time, but it also means that you can only make so many weapons at once.”
Vandamme held the canister out in front of him.
“Use it,” said Vandamme.
Cain felt uneasy.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “This thing... It seems really special. You said it was a prototype, right?”
Legends of the man’s smithing abilities aside, neither Nameen nor Muse had mentioned anything about his ability to enchant. This Vorpal Black didn’t seem like the kind of thing that should be easily given out.
“It’s of no further use to me,” said Vandamme. “I have the plans, and still enough connections to the Tower if I want to make another. Rather, I want this weapon in the hands of somebody who could use it to its full potential.”
The pride of an artisan. That’s what it looked like to Cain.
“I understand,” said Cain. “Thank you.”
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[THE SILVER SEAT - South Seat]
What could she do?
Muse wondered as she walked down the street. Lamplight Island was nice, but she was never one for the sky sector of the Seat. Instead, she much preferred the earth. Perhaps weird for one of Aerachnid’s own, but that was her preference.
The districts of the Silver Seat were split up into the north and south sides, termed imaginatively North Seat and South Seat. Collectively, the portion of the city that lay on the ground was the earth sector, whereas the floating islands in the sky were termed the sky sector.
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Muse had few opportunities to go to the sky sectors growing up - they were primarily reserved for the highest of classes. Manors, villas, and other such things. Not much of interest for those who grew up on the ground, save the Sterling Palace which watched over all of the Seat from its lofty perch.
They had a few rounds of practice with Vorpal Black and her new sabre, also created by Vandamme. The result had been decisive. Cain’s new patterns, switching between sword, lance, and axe constantly had completely overwhelmed her.
With a sword, she was familiar with his patterns, but it was now such a miniscule part of his moveset. The moment she backed off, a lance would come out and keep her at bay. If she overreached, he was even capable of disarming her with the hook of the axe. All this, despite the fact that he hadn’t even pulled out the bow.
She was glad for him, but there was also frustration there. She was one of Aerachnid’s own, dang it! Her abilities that she had worked hard for were now being consistently outmatched, and she had no recourse.
There was a little resentment there, but she quashed it. It wasn’t fair of her to blame Cain for something he had no control over - it was just her competitive side trying to throw a fit. The stronger her partner, the better off Beelzebub Cell would be.
Still, that left her worried about the Dungeon.
Now that she really thought about it. Thirty knights had been picked out, fully armed by the Vandamme of old, and were sent collectively packing. Although she didn’t know their identities, there was no way that the orders had sent out their worst, or even middling knights on such an important mission.
Was she really prepared?
Her enthusiasm for the dungeon was quickly dropping now, replaced by a creeping anxiety. Her love of seeing new places now turned to doubt and uncertainty.
She hated the feeling.
“Euggghhhhh...”
She let it out in a sigh. Webby looked at her.
“Eh, don’t worry about it, little guy,” said Muse, rubbing his head with a finger. “Just trying to sort some stuff out right now.”
The best way to fight anxiety was to have a plan, but it was hard to have a plan for a situation she had never been in before. From what she heard, Dungeons were always different. In layout, in structure, everything.
And what if a hostile Player attacked them? What if there were multiple? She couldn’t even beat one that had been in Esperanto for only a few weeks. How could she possibly take on those who were confident enough to actively hunt Dungeons on their own?
Just then, she realized where she was.
Standing directly in front of the silver temple that was the Lifeweaver’s Ward. Large stairs led up to an archway that welcomed all. She could see the many would-be patients and visitors that waited in the lobby.
“Right...” mused Muse.
She looked over at Webby, who looked back at her curiously.
“When you’re feeling anxious, it’s always best to talk to somebody about it!”
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[THE DIVINITIES’ REALM - Windmother’s Web]
“...and that’s basically where I’m at right now,” said Muse with a sigh. “What do you think?”
She had made it through the Ward with practiced ease, heading to the worship hall where most of the other patrons instead headed off to the counter at the front. Those who encountered her in the halls bowed slightly to the little white spider on her shoulder.
Within moments, Muse was back in the Windmother’s Web, where a plethora of other white spiders of various sizes had greeted her. After giving the expected headpats, she had started opining to thin air again as she usually did.
There was something about this place, about how open it was that eased her soul. The fluttering webs, the endless blue sky, and fluffy white clouds underneath all came together in a way that made her feel both at home and ready to explore.
Webby had decided to stay back again. He was still bored of this place, the Web where he had hatched and been raised in. Even the simplicity of a worship hall was fascinating for him, as interested in the mortal realm as he was.
“Godmother?”
Strange. It didn’t usually take her godmother this long to respond. She had given her customary gust of greeting and listened to her goddaughter whine, but now there wasn’t much of a response.
Then it came.
A breeze of reassurance. Muse let it wash over her skin.
“What should I do?” she asked.
There probably wouldn’t be a real answer. Not from her godmother. She despised binding others to her will, despite her arachnid nature. She could give advice, but would never illuminate a path forward for Muse. That simply wasn’t the kind of Divinity she was.
But then, a breeze of caution. Asking her to brace herself.
Then it came.
Muse, beloved daughter.
A voice from inside of her head. Muse’s hands trembled as she fellt to the floor. Her heart raced, her eyes widened. It was all she could do to bear the strain. A strong breeze would’ve been able to knock her over.
I am the Divinity of freedom. I have never limited my Chosen. Not in the way that the other Divinities do. Free your own mind, and the possibilities will come to you.
It was Aerachnid’s voice.
She hadn’t heard this since the Choosing. It seemed that time hadn’t served to help her withstand it. The force was still very much capable of sending her to her knees.
You will understand what this means in time.
Then, as suddenly as the voice started, it stopped.
A breeze for an apology as Muse got back to her feet, shaking.
So her Divinity had left her with a riddle, then?