Lurona city [southern shores of Fuminao Legacy Kingdom], local time [1794.01.12]

He approached Cyrus casually, with a drink in hand; shoulders straight, and a mask of indifferent arrogance on his face.

Seeing the man’s entourage, he stopped a few paces away and waited patiently, perusing some snacks from the nearby table.

After a minute, Cyrus noticed his intentions and gracefully extracted himself from the ongoing discussion. They both moved further away, in the direction of the tables near the exhibitions – their trajectory naturally converging along the way.

As Zeph’s Veil brushed against Cyrus’s, he allowed his net of dense Mana strings to be broken apart. The fragments penetrated deeper into the man’s Veil like free-floating spider threads as he released any and all control over them.

That way, even if the stings were detected, the technique could be misunderstood as an externally-manifesting Skill. As rare as these were, it was better than giving away his mastery over Mana Manipulation.

He could scan the man’s Veil that way. At least partially. The threads shouldn’t interfere much with constructs inside, just wrapping around them like real spider threads would around a person. In any way, the goal was to make sure the man wasn’t using anything and, possibly, to touch his body and strengthen the Soul connection that would form during the talk – all so Gru would have an easier time assessing Cyrus’s Soul.

Zeph had a healthy amount of the threads in his Veil and he was sending them slowly towards the border of his Veil. Cyrus didn’t react to the ones penetrating his personal space initially, so he focused on producing more as they walked.

After a minute, they were both sitting in the comfortable armchairs, looking at each other with curiosity.

A maid brought some snacks and drinks. After she left, Zeph felt a familiar sensation of an expanding Air Sphere brushing against his Veil. The noise of the background quietened, then disappeared completely.

Of course, it wasn’t enough to entirely block others from listening in – it was activated just for the comfort of the two of them. Even the vibrations going through the floor could be enough to eavesdrop.

Whatever Zeph said, it would be heard in one way or another. It was a public event, after all.

“La-Einar,” he said, bowing his head. “I was expecting you to recover far faster,” Cyrus stated, looking at him curiously.

“La-Jobenke,” he answered in kind. “Not everyone is left with only broken bones,” he answered, placing his head on a fist of his one good arm. “I was wondering. What materials were used to make your armor?” he asked nonchalantly, trying to steer the conversation.

His Mana was returning nothing besides a garbage of information. There were no structures in the man’s Veil, even closest to his body. His threads were yet to find skin, as a formidable stream of Mana produced by the man was pushing them away. On the plus side – the Ambient Mana resulting from the contact with matter and foreign Mana was also quickly dispersed thanks to that, minimizing the chance of it being detected.

“The best ones,” Cyrus said noncommittally. “Just a new product brought from abroad. But, La-Einar, is it proper to ask about such trivial matters?” he asked suggestively.

Zeph knew that the man would try to gather information to enhance his political position. And right now, the most pressing matter revolted around the strange effect born during his last fight.

Instead of answering the unspoken question, he decided to stir the pot a little. It would also serve the role of a warning, as he wasn’t going to delve deeper into that topic without a reason. “Quite a declaration from a man who didn’t last more than two exchanges. Is it really proper to call it ‘the best’ if it didn’t work in the first place?” he countered.

He could see anger in Cyrus’s eyes, even if his facial expression stayed neutral. As expected, the higher echelons of Lurona had their pride. A pride that he was actively questioning along with their competency, and on many levels at that.

“You are audacious,” he snarled. “Even if it’s a valid line of questioning, I don’t see how you would fare better in those circumstances.”

Zeph made a thoughtful expression. “Indeed…” he concurred, causing the man to relax somewhat… Only to reignite his anger anew with his next sentence. “Definitely not with something looking this heavy. I have a healthy count of wins, though. Ah!” he exclaimed unconvincingly – boredom lacing his tone, “but you wouldn’t know about our spars either way,” he said as a matter of fact.

That jab worked better than expected. Even Zeph – with his middling expertise in the Soul matters – could feel a firm Soul connection forming between them.

For sure, it would be seen as an antagonistic kind from the point of view of Cyrus, but Zeph knew better. Anger, rivalry, humiliation… those weren’t enough to cause a ‘negative Soul wound’ or a Will loop that could cause a negative response after the man’s death. The connection was still neutral in nature, and so weak that he wouldn’t even notice it if both of them weren’t on opposite sides of the current conflict – the added context along all officially-stated challenges significantly influenced its manifestation. Still, it was incomparable to even the weakest, but fully-formed Soul bonds.

The emotions, insignificant as they were in the grand scheme of things, were speeding up the connection’s growth. Zeph’s Mana strings finally started touching Cyrus’s body, accelerating the process even more.

The Soul was connected directly to the body. But a person’s Mana was also entangled with Soul directly in a way, extending its influence as long, as the connection existed. Either way, Mana-conducted contact was almost as good as physical one when interacting with a foreign Soul – assuming Mana from either entity was touching the body of the other.

The thin strings of Zeph’s Mana found the man’s skin in the tumultuous streams of generated surplus of Mana, wrapping around and disintegrating almost instantly as they met solid matter. But Cyrus stayed oblivious to that fact.

The Soul connection that was forming was based on misdirection and lies, but the nature of their interaction was insubstantial. One could say the same about the connection itself – from the point of view of their Souls and Wills, almost nothing was happening right now. The fact that their memories of this meeting would not only change that but were important by themselves, was a problem for future Zeph.

What mattered right now, was for Gru to find a path to probe the man’s Soul. The fact that Cyrus wasn’t proficient in Soul arts made the whole affair that much easier.

“Does that mean you are used to this level of body harm?” the man asked tartly. “Or did I misunderstand the nature of those… spars you were talking about?”

“I wouldn’t be able to call myself a warrior if I wasn’t, Jobenke Kazotalo,” he returned the jab, adding oil to the fire by implying the man was spoon-fed. “As for the other question…” He smiled sardonically. “Even if I did, the results on my health would be the same. But, I suppose, you couldn’t know, as it warrants expertise.”

Zeph cringed internally at the somewhat childish riposte he just made. Even if he was ready for embarrassment-driven mental tortures his current actions would inevitably bring, it didn’t mean he enjoyed sinking to the level of a halfwit. What people won’t do to achieve their goals… he lamented in the silence that ensued.

Faced with this level of ridicule, Cyrus stood up, fighting with himself to keep his facial expression neutral. “Apologizes,” he said through clenched teeth, “but I have never planned to participate in a badly presented charade of face slapping. I suggest that you look for someone closer to you intellectually,” he stated derisively, turning around.

“A shame… And here I was ready to disclose a few details about the Force Storm…”

The man paused. Zeph could almost hear his teeth grinding.

Cyrus slowly turned his torso and head to look at him; sending him a piercing, calculating glare, seemingly trying to discern if he was serious.

Zeph knew that if he escalated the situation any further, he would have to deal with a personal Duel challenge. Raising his hands up to show that he wasn’t going to joke around, he gave the man a poor excuse for his previous behavior to invite him back to the table.

“Maybe I came out a bit too aggressive… I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t mix facts. I am not going to speak about that for free,” he said, sending his best impression of a greedy noble.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Geh… Gru sent to him, confirming that Cyrus’s indignation was partially faked. It wasn’t a surprise – Zeph was the one who came to him, so Cyrus expected something more substantial to come out in the discussion. Him playing along to make Zeph overextend was expected.

Gru sent a bit more information, though. He also ‘saw’ a big gap in the man’s Soul. It wasn’t a permanent wound – for Gru, it seemed as if something imprinted its shape there. The object was absent, but the scale was clear – if Cyrus kept it on himself for a prolonged period of time, he would experience severe Soul fragmentation.

It was worrying, to say the least.

Cyrus already sat back and was perusing his drink. Zeph leaned back in his seat, waiting for him to ‘calm down’ while showing hints of impatience – a minuscule grimace and silent taping of his foot, among others.

“La-Einar,” Cyrus finally started with a sigh. “Are you trying to say that you caused that reaction?” The man asked cautiously, looking up.

“The word ‘cause’ would be correct here,” Zeph said arrogantly, nodding deeply. “The circumstances were quite unique, but were it not for the extraordinary mix of Magicules in my explosives, they would never cause similar effects.”

A shadow of disappointment and irritation flashed through Cyrus’s face. What Zeph said was not only generic but was also based on ‘faulty’ logic – that the environment was responsible for morphing and escalating the impact of the enchanted explosives. The problem was, even if Cyrus would give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he knew what he was talking about, it would be the first documented occurrence that produced a coherent, localized effect of such a scale.

In that one simple sentence, Zeph managed to gently hint at his incompetence while setting the stage for the discussion that soon followed.

Cyrus the hapless, powered by a hope that Zeph’s unlikely speculations contained a seed of truth, started digging deeper, asking for more details while sharing some more information on his own equipment to satiate Zeph’s obvious greed.

Zeph never made that easy for him, though. He never committed to one explanation, spinning a tale that flowed with the discussion rather than the topic. Generic answers were the best answers. Additionally, all of that was not only dotted with logical and technical discrepancies but was also drowning in inaccurately picked technical terms and flowery language.

He worked really hard to keep Cyrus interested despite the lack of concrete information, his annoying behavior, and his constant demands to set up a private meeting to discuss a payment or information exchange. But twenty minutes was his limit – he could buy Gru only that much time before the candlelight of hope in Cyrus’s eyes was extinguished completely.

“…and that’s when I recognized the pattern! I’ve comprehended the swirl of the morass in all its irresoluble magnificence. Why, it was uncannily conspicuous, the mo—”

“La-Einar”—his animated recollection of the events was rudely interrupted—“it’s a third time that you are describing this part…” Cyrus said tiredly.

“It is?...” he paused momentarily, before confidently crossing his arms. “Humph, it’s because this occurrence is bearing a deep meaning! It was unequivocally the most prominent and paramount incidence of the—”

“I understand, La-Einar. Sadly, my responsibilities are limiting my time…” he said with a glint of irritation in his eyes.

“Indeed,” Zeph nodded smartly, leaning forward. “So, when do you wish to continue our dispute?” he smacked his hand on the table to stress his words while smiling widely.

“I…” Cyrus’s eyes darted to the side for a fraction of a second, his pupils constricting as if the idea itself frightened him.

The man had to be tired out of his mind to show that much emotions. Or maybe, he finally dropped his guard around Zeph – for a moment there, he sounded like a parent trying to stop their kid from babbling without end.

But he quickly composed himself. “I don’t think I can decide on a meeting of such importance alone. I will have to speak with other interested parties, lest we bear the consequences.”

“Right, right,” Zeph agreed immediately. “In that case, allow me to spread the word,” he said enthusiastically, pumping his fist.

“Of course, La-Einar. If I may, I would recommend speaking with the industrial faction,” he said stoically, like a father suggesting a sleepover at grandma’s house. “They are sure to be interested, and it would be a good business to include them as well,” he lied without batting an eye.

After some more pleasantries, they went their separate ways.

Zeph’s gait was energetic, still under the influence of his self-inflicted excitement. The more he talked back there, the deeper he was falling into his role. After some time, he didn’t even have to fake his enthusiasm – it came naturally, following his lead.

Better yet, he gained one level in ‘Universal Cir language’ General Skill, which showed just how hard he pushed himself in the dispute.

How did I fare? he asked Gru while wondering if that’s how accomplished actors felt on the stage. Many times before he had heard the saying – that the actor’s goal was to ‘become’ the character they were impersonating. For the first time in his life, he felt like he could relate and understand what that meant. What it meant to awaken the very emotions that a character should feel and show, just to better portray them.

He also reluctantly admitted that a personality crisis wasn’t a joke for people doing that regularly…

Grau~ Gru sent him a happy thumbs up. After minutes of observing and very, very softly interacting with the man’s Soul, Gru was able to truth-read him in a major capacity. His regimen of training his Soul skills never stopped. Even the elusive truth-reading ability was coming along – after observing a few different artifacts used for that purpose, as well as receiving some clues from Aisha.

According to his companion, Zeph’s acting achieved almost perfect results. It seemed the man had lost almost all doubts as to Zeph’s nature by the end of their conversation. At the same time, the man never got really thrilled, confirming that the information provided wasn’t worth much.

Zeph was insisting that the explosives were his even when they were clearly mass-produced by his Guild. He showcased his ignorance regarding existing knowledge by ignoring important conclusions or by simply presenting outlandish possibilities and explanations. He never lied directly but tried to steer as far from the truly juicy details as he could while generalizing.

Thank you~ he happily sent back. So, what did you find?

Grrrruummmm, a low, silent vibration reverberated in his chest. It was dampened by his robes, but to be sure it wasn’t noticed, Zeph started humming a song. He felt like doing that, anyway.

After taking a ‘closer’ look, it become clear that whatever deformed Cyrus’s Soul was alive – as in, it possessed Will and was ‘moving around’. The degradation of Will near the ‘borders’ – seen by Gru as a solidification of the shape of the Soul – indicated a prolonged exposition and a conflict. At the same time, he managed to partially identify the type of intruder.

The Soul was always fluctuating and able to take a multitude of fractal shapes at any given moment. Given, of course, by its connection to the dimensions interacting with time. But more importantly, every Soul was unfolding in patterns that could be categorized and followed. Gru was ways away from comprehending their meaning and the full scope of possible shifts. But he could clearly see that some ‘phases’ weren’t influenced by the invader at all.

Once again, Zeph hit the wall in the form of the geometry of the Soulscape. In the first place, phrases like ‘border’, ‘deformation’, or ‘shape’ weren’t matching the reality of things at all – they were just simple compartmentalization of a much more complicated, constantly-transforming geometry. If it even could be called that (although, Zeph hoped it could). As so, he allowed Gru to simplify the explanation.

The ‘phases’ – or rather, ‘patterns’ – the Soul could transform into differed between organisms. Gru had enough expertise to know, more or less, which ones were characteristic to what species.

The indents in Cyrus’s Soul fitted almost perfectly to an unrestrained Myconid hive. The ‘movement’ traces also reinforced that conclusion – many of the miniature, meandering branches simply separated from the main core at some point, quickly extinguishing in the process but not before leaving empty ‘pockets’ of the places of their demise.

The news shocked him enough to sober him up. Whatever the man had on himself, was extremely dangerous. And the thing wasn’t even activated during the fight.

Cyrus sacrificed more than he could expect, in Zeph’s opinion. Even if the Soul fragmentation didn’t take place, parts of the man’s Soul lost information written within.

Cursing inside, he walked to the closest table with liquor. He didn’t need to be drunk, but his acting would suffer if his mind was too preoccupied. As so, he spent a few minutes relaxing and trying to fall back into his role.

Especially because his next target should be more Soul-sensitive. Lesser Landlord Arrio Arslancle, the man who crippled him by using an unknown category of Magicules.

He already located Arslancle but took more time to prepare. As much as he didn’t want to talk to him, it would be too suspicious if he didn’t.

Focusing on his role fully, he smirked and started walking in his direction…

~~~

The event continued in that fashion for hours.

None of his five victims seemed to notice that he wasn’t exactly forthcoming with his true personality, but in a place filled with so many politicians, it should be a norm. He just hoped that he managed to successfully sell the major inadequacies of Zeph the idiot.

His acting had unexpected, far-reaching consequences, though. People were actively avoiding him if he showed any interest in conversation, reassuring him that his efforts weren’t fruitless. Although, losing reputation in such an environment was extremely easy, so this achievement wasn’t worth much praise. The rumors were traveling through the hall faster than any messenger could, as evidenced by many mocking glances sent his way as he circled the place.

Between confronting his targets, he was pestering the industrial group – just as Cyrus had suggested. It wasn’t just for show, as the close aide of his tomorrow’s opponent was also on the list of his targets.

He managed to engage her in a conversation, although her no-nonsense personality didn’t allow for more than two minutes of time for Gru – an unexpected handicap. But taking into account that she was last on his list, it still was a resounding success.

Besides her, he also talked with the only two people who openly showed their last-resort devices during the fights. Both were P’pfel’s old opponents: Lesser Landlord Avery Rubella Lurona-Kazotaro Laurene – the overly-plump alchemist – and Mindie Trichaya, the Deputy Master of Lurona Eastern Shipyard Association – the one using the deep-sea diving suit. He achieved much better results speaking with them so Gru was able to gather much more information, and even his delicate Veil scan managed to uncover some interesting tidbits.

All in all, the mission was successful. Even if tomorrow Zeph would cry bloody tears for doing such an idiot from himself publicly…It was his future self who would suffer. Besides, he even gained another level in ‘Universal Cir language’. He felt like he finally found a sweet spot between believable and useless when speaking without an intention to share information. A skill in which every speaker, politician, or leader was surely proficient.

He could only sigh in relief that he didn’t receive a General Skill for proficiency in that dubious art. If the Skill existed in the first place – he was quite sure that he crossed the proficiency threshold that evening.

Leaving the ballroom in a good mood (and a company of disdainful glances), he felt ready for the coming meeting with the data he managed to gather…