When Azrael came to again it the sun was already high in the sky. His wounds were healing – faster than was usually humanly possible, but still far too slow for him to be able to move around properly. He felt unwell. Some of it might have been remaining spider poison, some of it was definitely the constant rocking of the boat, and some of it was possibly due to his restless sleep.

Most of the time he’d been blacked out, Azrael had been… well… blacked out. Here and there though, there had been snippets of memory – Someone screaming, James raising his blade in proclamation, a spider biting him, him cleaving a spider in two, the feel of legs as they scuttled across his body and the feel of him breaking through hard spider carapace like a fist shatters bone.

He shuddered, leaning over the side of the barge, feeling ill. Fortunately, what little dignity remained to him amongst the crew was retained by him not being violently ill. Trying to find something to distract himself with, Azrael half turned to James.

“James?”

“Yeah?”

“That ice magic you did? How did you learn that?”

“[Touch of Frost]?” James asked, naming the unique ability he’d used earlier.

“Yeah.”

Azrael still remembered the way the mana had flowed when James had used that ability. It was as if the world was obliging James’ command, helping him – mana feeding in to augment James’ own. It was different to Azrael’s own spellcasting.

“I learnt it in a blizzard.”

“Pardon?”

This world had blizzards? It did explain James’ {Frozen Survivor} title, as well as his levels of [Cold Resistance] [Ice Resistance].

James gained a reminiscent look in his eyes.

“It wiped out everything else and I decided I liked it, so I picked it up.”

Azrael was now completely turned, looking at James with an incredulous look on his face.

“You picked up magic from a blizzard. How does that even make sense?”

James just gave him what Azrael was slowly beginning to realise was James’ signature grin for when he was going to say something typically James.

“I like sword – I pick up sword. I like blizzard – I pick up blizzard.”

Azrael didn’t even pretend to understand. James just did as James did. Sometimes it was best if you didn’t think too hard about it.

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“I guess you like sounding like a kid with eight-grader syndrome, by chanting like that too?”

“No, that actually makes it stronger. But yes, it is cool.”

“Yeah, of course you– ! It makes it stronger?”

James stuck his hand overboard, one finger in the water. With [Mana Sight] Azrael watched mana flow from James’ core to his fingertip. A moment later, small streamers of ice crystalised next to James’ finger, only to be ripped away by the river.

Next James opened his mouth, solemnly proclaiming words to the river.

“There is no hope, no light, no life. The end has come.”

Under [Mana Sight], Azrael watched streamers of the world’s mana flow towards James. As if ordered by James’ proclamation it merged with his mana, augmenting it. Mana flowed the fingertip into the water, rapidly cooling, shifting, freezing and ice began to rapidly form. One hand’s width, two, three, four, five. A sheet of ice spread across the surface of the water, spanning five of Azrael’s hands. James removed his finger from the ice sheet, letting it drift away. It smashed against the barge’s hull, shattering into smaller bits. Azrael watched it float away, until it vanished from sight. James settled back down, noticing that Azrael was lost in thought.

Inside Azrael’s head the gears were whirring in overdrive. There was a way to enhance spells – one that didn’t require extra mana. [Overcharge] was useful, but expensive. Its efficiency also decreased with increased mana charge, giving it a theoretical cap. James’ method was… revolutionary in some ways. The only things he had to figure out was how it worked. James didn’t have a skill that would aid in … spellcasting? Azrael decided to use that word. Chanting a spell was similar to ‘traditional’ spellcasting at least.

The biggest questions were how did it work, followed closely by was it exclusive to James, his unique ability or maybe to unique abilities in general.

Azrael summoned a wisp of flame, watching his mana trail from his core to his fingertips. It was wholly his own mana. The heat it gave off affected the surrounding mana, giving off both heat and light mana, while also setting wind mana into motion from the resultant rising heat. Other than that there was little to no interaction between the surrounding ambient mana and his. He twirled his finger, creating a mana loop, where fire mana fed into fire mana. He shut off his connection to it, watching it burn on its own until eventually it burnt out. He smiled. The mana loop was a trick he’d picked up from the walls in Nova Lux. It was handy, but still not what he was looking for.

Azrael pictured James raising his sword. His solemn words echoing in the night.

“There is no hope, no light, no life. The end has come.”

Then, the way the mana rushed to meet his own, as if following his order, as if eager to fulfil his… intent. Intent!

Azrael thought back to one of his first breakthroughs in understanding skills and magic at the start of the game. The system recognised action and intent. Memories of spearfishing and crying out spell names came back to. He smiled. It felt so long ago and so much had changed since then. The system, however, was still the same. Action and intent. What he did, how much he did it and what he was trying to achieve.

His action was casting the spell. His intent was… also casting the spell. How he cast it? What he was casting? Summoning a [Fire Bullet] and chanting an ice related chant probably wasn’t going to do anything, since his action and intent didn’t match up… would it.

Azrael raised a hand, letting mana flow into it. He stirred it up, feeling it warm up. Under his breath he slowly began to chant.

“There is no hope, no light, no life. The end has come.”

Mana burst into flame. Warm, hot, bright, golden, shining flame. It danced and it sparked. Yep. Nope. Didn’t work.

James burst out laughing and Azrael’s head snapped up, finding James with his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Right there and then Azrael wished he could just shrink into himself.