Lurona city [southern shores of Fuminao Legacy Kingdom], local time [1794.01.11]

Zeph’s eyes opened suddenly. The pain in his left arm was pulsating angrily, but slowly eased up as he caught his breath. The spike of pain that managed to drag him from the dreamland was nowhere to be found, but the echoes were still reverberating through his body.

His vision was blurred. Tears he didn’t remember shedding were rolling down his cheeks. His muscles throbbed with a dull pain, as if they just stopped to spasm.

“He’s awake!” someone shouted, their voice distorted.

Dizzily, he tried to look around. The fuzzy shapes didn’t tell him much, though.

“I’ve told you!” This time he recognized the person speaking. Even if his hearing was malfunctioning, he could recognize Pavail. “The anesthetic can only work for so long for him!”

“Stop stating the obvious and give me the small pincers,” someone else demanded.

He still couldn’t focus his sight, so he couldn’t see what was happening, but that last comment sent cold shivers down his spine. He tried to protest, but he couldn’t produce any sound; his mouth paralyzed, lungs sluggishly sucking in the air without care for his plight.

Not a moment later, an incredibly intense wave of pain washed over him, radiating not only from his almost severed arm but also from his back.

The sensation was short-lived but put him into a daze. His head swiveled from side to side involuntarily as his mind wavered on the consciousness’s boundary.

This feeling felt familiar.

His blunted senses; the confusion; the daze…

His pupils dilated as his eyes involuntarily widened, but he wasn’t seeing his surroundings anymore.

His old memories unfolded unsupervised before his very eyes. Flashbacks from the most traumatic moments back on Earth. The physical trauma of modern warfare. The psychological trauma of losing fellow Huntsmen. The constant race for resources and the unending dash into the unknown.

Among them, the brightest shone the close encounters with death. The moments when he was almost sure that it was the end.

He remembered it all. Somehow, that can of worms, that closed and forgotten box of suffering, opened. The adrenaline rush carrying his wobbling mind through the hypoxia. The absolute helplessness as his body betrayed him, not responding to his will...

In the mad haze of fragmented memories, the worst of what happened on Corora started to mix in, blending in seamlessly into the chaos.

His pulse was speeding up drastically as his body tensed like a rubber band on the verge of breaking, but the accumulating panic was cut short.

Warmth emerged from the vicinity of his sternum, quickly spreading through his whole body.

Gru had enough of this—as he succinctly divulged with a low, disgruntled vibration—and pumped… something into Zeph’s body, propagating it with the help of Phleya.

In his state, Zeph could easily tell when it happened – his perception was already pointed inward.

He never took combat drugs before but, for the first time in his life, he started to understand why they were in circulation. His muscles relaxed; his heartbeat slowed down; the pain drifted away, degrading to dull signals instead of an earsplitting scream of alarm sirens.

He could hear unintelligible voices as his arm was being patched up. He didn’t pay much attention to it anymore. Instead, he marveled at what he started to see and feel. At that moment, his insides were more palpable than ever. Every scrap of his body shined brightly and colorfully in his mind’s eye. He could even hear and taste the Mana as it moved through his Source Net.

His addled mind started showing him details never seen before. Impressions never possible. Especially those of flow – be it Mana, Blood, or activity of nerves – everything had a representation in this synaesthetic, trippy tapestry.

And he finally understood that a whole assortment of foreign chemicals and Magicules was saturating his body. He noticed them – the black, disgusting spots.

The manifold mix of Magicules that Arslancle managed to inject into his body wasn’t gone. A small fraction of them managed to reach his Soul. Some were creating strange conglomerations that tasted hideously but sounded almost like Willforce Magicule particles did. He had a hard time discriminating between his body and Soul at the moment, so he wasn’t sure where exactly those inflammation sites were.

As he contemplated the state of his being, the surgery continued in the background.

Soon enough, his reason started returning; the colors bleaching and the details disappearing, just like a memory of a dream at dawn.

Thankfully, he wasn’t feeling much pain anymore. He didn’t dare to open his eyes this time, though.

His mind slowly regained composure. Rational, coherent thoughts started swirling in his head as he finally noticed the discrepancy between what he knew was possible and what he just experienced.

In the first place, this level of pain shouldn’t be possible without external interference. He never checked the limits of his newly acquired pain tolerance – his body enhancements and PE were limiting that stimulus almost inappropriately – but he was quite sure that a partial amputation of an arm shouldn’t pose that much of a challenge.

Secondarily, his Homeostasis Defense EE, Phleya, and resource exchange provided by the Willforce Morphon should have dealt with not-critical blood loss in minutes – either by preventing it or by supplementing the creation of new erythrocytes and enhancing oxygen transfer.

Gru and Phleya were keeping the level of carboxyhemoglobin at bay during the fight—not that he inhaled that much of the deadly gas in the first place—so he couldn’t understand why he was regaining his mental capability so slowly.

He could feel another wave of pain coming from his left arm, but he ignored it.

Am I high, or what? he asked himself, trying to smile ruefully which only caused his face to contort uncontrollably.

And finally, Gru and Phleya seemed to not notice the foreign Magicules that were invading his body and, probably, Soul. Truth be told, he wouldn’t be able either if not for the fact that they were so visible during his spiritual, drug-induced vision.

The worst part was, it all was happening even in the presence of the best nutriments his guildmates could pump into him. His body was fed with the most energetically appropriate liquids – he could feel it down to his bones. Yet, his brain was sluggish and slow to recover.

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During the fight…those symptoms were similar, he concluded after observing himself for a while longer.

That thought made him angry as he started connecting the dots.

He quickly checked his Interface, ignoring all notifications hidden within that didn’t involve his health. The good news could be left for later.

The feeling quickly escalated into a full-blown fury.

The System didn’t find anything extraordinary to report. This, more than anything else, proved his suspicions right.

Arslancle’s offensive means weren’t designed to guarantee him a victory. No, their predominant purpose was to cripple Zeph.

And crippled he was.

The pain and confusion were overwhelming his rational thoughts by the sheer intensity until now, so he never noticed. The all-permeating weakness seemed almost natural in those circumstances. Even the strange behavior of his Soul spewing all those old memories at him could be ignored to some extent; he wasn’t in a state to assess the damage to his body or Soul, either way.

But there was one thing that shouldn’t be touched. One thing that should be intangible.

His Will. It wasn’t depleted more than could be expected – the System could monitor at least this much. But those foreign Magicules, those conglomerations they formed, were interfering somehow. That was the only logical explanation for what was happening. His implants, his Mana manipulation, and even his better techniques all depended on it. His mental stability and balance were part of it. His Soul needed it because of fragmentation.

That’s the only logical explanation, he thought.

The medical team finished their work and walked away, so he opened his eyes. The surroundings slowly came into focus. I need to purge those Magicules somehow. But it’s ridiculous. How could he even…

“You good?” Aisha asked, leaning down. Her face hovered right above his head as she looked deep into his eyes.

“As can be,” he wheezed out.

“You missed most of Ghrughah’s Duel,” she said, straightening up and looking to the side.

Zeph followed her gaze.

As it turned out, he was in their Guild’s spectator hall, lying on a marble table that somehow found its way to the back corner of the room on the highest avenue. The armor on his left arm was missing, the same as his helmet and equipment. Medical appliances covered a tray to his right, all covered in blood.

His bandaged arm was placed in a metal splint. He knew well that it wouldn’t be of much use for the next few weeks at the very least.

The Doctors were absent, and Pavail was looking at the fight from the nearby bench.

Below, in the arena, Ghrughah was unhurriedly chasing another giant of a man. That one’s armor, though, was almost shredded, uncovering the intimidating musculature beneath. An armory worth of weapons was littering the beaten-up ground all around them, most of them damaged in some way.

It seemed that Ghrughah’s opponent was at his wit’s end because the bolts from the oversized crossbow he was using did absolutely nothing to Ghrughah’s imposing armor.

“How long…” Zeph asked silently. His breathing was still forcefully stabilized by the drugs, so he had some problems when speaking.

“You were out for around an hour,” she said, glancing at him. “Ghrughah is just buying time at this point. He sends his best regards,” she smiled mischievously. “Good work with the gas, by the way. This should force them to implement some countermeasures.”

He nodded lightly, still observing the fight.

This was part of their plan. Already three of their combatants successfully used airborne toxins, and it wasn’t the end of it. At this point, the message should be clear. The hope was that in the later fights their opponents would start using compressed-air tanks to counter the move, which would drastically decrease their fighting capability.

Carrying heavy equipment that could be easily damaged during the fight wasn’t optimal, to say the least. Not to mention, if the tank exploded some damage was inevitable.

“A shame you used so many Spells and techniques, though,” Aisha added, but he just shrugged. It was all he could do at the time. “The Doctors and Pavail said you are physically alright, but that doesn’t seem accurate,” she implied the question, noticing his hardened, angry glare.

“Need… internal… Magicule cleansing,” he slowly said.

“Strange… Soul-attuned ones?”

“Gre!” Gru proudly announced, vibrating happily.

“You did?” She smiled warmly. “Good work on blocking those!”

During the fight, Gru blocked more of the strange Soul attacks. He had learned quickly the trick behind them. Although, he found nothing else to be influencing Zeph’s Soul.

“But if that’s the case, what is happening?”

“Will interference… clusters… maybe in Soul…”

“Hmmm… That’s not good,” she said, massaging her chin. “They should disintegrate already. But,” she looked at him with uncertainty, “are you sure they are doing something to you Will? Influencing your body on a microscopic level seems much more plausible.”

He shook his head. He wouldn’t believe that as well if not for his strange vision but it wouldn’t explain the pain he was feeling, among other things.

Aisha thought some more, trusting his conviction. She ignored the laughable game of tag happening in the background and concentrated fully on Zeph, checking him with some of her Skills.

It took her a minute to come to a conclusion.

“I’ve heard some stories from higher strata… Mind you, those are mostly just rumors and exaggerated stories, so don’t take it at face value,” she started, crossing her arms. “If they are to be believed, a group of Will-attuned Magicules do exist. And among them, a subgroup that behaves like a parasite is the most terrifying. Supposedly, it’s eating up the target’s Will to multiply and infect other living organisms. Which, by itself, is a ridiculous notion. We would all be broken people if something like that existed.”

Sound more like a prion, he thought absentmindedly but still focusing on what she was saying.

“They only disintegrate after there is no more Will. Like I said, it’s just a wild legend. But maybe you can use the supposed healing method as a clue. It’s said that you have to focus all your being on one thing – most commonly your true love or some other idealistic nonsense – to engage all your Will at once.”

Zeph’s brow rose. It sounded more like a story from a romantic novel than anything reliable.

Although… I suppose I can try focusing my Will on one task, he concurred. “Thanks... I—“

The rush of colorful lights and an announcement came at that moment, marking the end of the Duel. As people in the room started cheering, Aisha gave him her last advice.

“Whatever you try, leave that for the evening. The medical records are public, so your state will be known to our opponents. And try to learn more about those Magicules. Any lasting effects on a body are rare. Lasting effects on Will, unheard of.”

Then she clapped her hands, smiling widely, and happily skipped away. It was her turn, and she wasn’t even trying to hide how eager she was for some violence.

~~~

Zeph was seated with the rest of their group, carefully transported down by the medical team that came back to check how he was doing.

Ghrughah was somehow disgruntled despite the easy victory. Zeph understood why only after he explained to the group that the man he was fighting was his ex-apprentice. They exchanged some words during the fight and it left a bad taste in his mouth. As untrustworthy as that bastard was, some words rang true with Ghrughah’s conscience.

He did fail as a master and a teacher, after all.

But their focus quickly returned to the arena when Aisha’s fight was starting.

Her opponent was clad in a form-fitting white armor. Zeph would swear that it was ceramic in nature if he didn’t know better. Ghrughah had shown him many times how misleading the appearance of materials could be.

Strangely, he didn’t seem to have any weapons. The only thing the man was using was a gigantic, black tower shield. Whatever it was made from, the man had no problems moving it around.

They were starting on the rocky terrain, far from any trees. This in itself wasn’t detrimental for Aisha, but she would be unable to use smoke to her advantage.

“It seems our enemies are already adapting,” P’pfel said.

“It doesn’t look good,” Kwan added with a frown, surprising everyone. “She seems impatient…”

At her words, people leaned forward, trying to see what she was talking about.

Zeph noticed it. The slight deviation in her posture as she stood there at the ready. The small movements of her warhaxammer as she held it with one hand. He fought with her enough times to recognize what she was preparing for.

“It seems we will have do without hiding her full strength,” Zeph said, laughing nervously.

After a moment, the Duel started and the two contestants rushed at each other, moving faster than any of the gathered here could.

The first clash almost entirely stopped their momentum but they still slid past each other. Aisha was faster in recovering, already swinging her weapon when the man struggled to put his shield in the way. The rocks around them moved, twisting in the opposite direction to Aisha’s swing as her heavy weapon accelerated.

Violet lightning exploded from the point of impact as the hammer’s head met the side of the shield. The ground shook and debris flew in all directions.

The man was shoved to the side, spinning. He landed in a heap on the ground, the shield still in his hands somehow.

Aisha didn’t move, and soon they saw why.

The man was lying on his back, left arm bent unnaturally. His shield was deformed and laid perpetual to his body, but the arm it covered shouldn’t be in that position if it was strapped. His once pristine armor spotted a net of black traces while glowing hot-red at the area closest to the impact.

“Well. And that’s that,” Kwan commented with a sigh.

Moments later, the opponent yielded.