The old man pointed at Murai’s hoodie. “A big part of it is the workings of mana, as well as a rather questionable piece of an Anatidae Uniform. It’s that simple. History and worth give it a face. You don’t like it?”
“You mean what are runes to magic, or mana in general, or... Do you think of these ducks as something they aren’t part of?” Murai asked.
“Not at all. Runes are extremely dense truths and Laws, capable of storing things and meanings like a code of hidden languages. They are universal, big, and important aspects of all worlds where cultures and mana grow. At least for the most part, of course.”
“I know that. Don’t have to repeat the obvious.” Murai grunted. “Wait, you keep moving away from the Anatidae topic!”
“Yes, I do. Sure. You know all about the broader worlds, but not this one! Runes are older, similar to freaks like you, acting as one of the main pivotal roads of magic in some places. In Somalis, things are a bit conventional across the board, but runes aren’t that popular. Magic and Paths are countless, so many schools, sects, nations, or kingdoms take them in, or not at all.”
“So like anywhere else?” Murai rolled his eyes, believing this conversation wasn’t going anywhere.
The old man scratched his chin. “If you think that, I might say that must be the truth. Are all other worlds like this too? Size, cultures, histories, and other aspects all matter in crafts of the important Paths.”
Murai agreed with him. There was nothing universally bad or good about this idea. All cultures touched upon the energies of the universe in all sorts of aspects. It depended on their setting, intellect, histories, or how much influence from the further worldly cultures and people went to them.
It could be heavy or mild, acting like legacies, stories, legends, and so on. That was the gist of how development through countless years acted, as lives spread around the universe where they could.
More often than not, Gods were behind pretty much all such worlds where energies went, thus affecting such worlds in many ways. That was the undeniable truth.
The old man wasn’t getting this idea because he hadn’t lived the lives that Murai had. But he was understanding much more of it thanks to Murai’s perspective, or the general views that followed his old and... supposedly unique life.
“Then let’s take the runes as mana and rules.” the old man said, “All equipment theories are important. You got the idea behind them at least, right? If so, this world takes care of it in a better light. Rules are there for it. Equipment and Artifacts are that kind of thing.”
“Equipment is there to support the body, Paths, or mind. Magic too. Let’s not forget that. Artifacts can mend to anything, as they aren’t conventional. They could be supposed as equipment as well, right? What is this hoodie then?” Murai wondered.
“Exactly. A big part of your hoodie is my focus on fixing and focusing on aspects of the Beast Core and Anatidae' unnerving insanities. They have their magic as a major priority and it isn’t all that nice. Why? Because of mana that cruises through all of their lives. All of them have cores, you see, creating a mess that is hard to tame. It may pose as a rather questionable power for the uniforms, right? It all makes their connections pop off.”
“Then, what is your idea, or this uniform like? Feels soft and kind of heavy or light in some portions. I feel the mana in it like a thin layer of sunlight. Is that gem the Catalyst? I can’t even recognize its properties, but if it isn’t the core of this thing, I am not a duck. Seems more like densely clustered essences together, which makes it what? A mana gem? Does this world have it? Haven’t seen or heard of them in this world so far. Perhaps it is something new? Old?”
“That is not entirely correct, but not wrong. It is all sorts of things. Mana can be anything. You aren’t far from the truth. This equipment has one problem, though. It needs mending with the world to take its effects, as any equipment piece does. It is high in value, so you might not take it lightly.”
“So, is it something good? What does it do?”
“See that for yourself when time and you can afford that. I shan’t speak of it. The creation process differs from hoping for its validity. It shouldn’t fray far from this world's ideas, balances, and hopes. Hoodie provides the secrets that I gave it, so let’s give the creator some slack. What it does may be unconventional, but in the end, my touch isn’t the last. The world is its taker, as the world decides and takes care of most things one could find or get. All equipment works this way.” The old man slapped the table, made the final adjustment to the hoodie, and felt satisfaction after everything was over.
“So? It shouldn’t pose you much problem wearing it, I presume?” He gave Murai a small grin.
Murai accepted such answers. Finding facts from truths wasn’t that terrible when he had a hoodie on his body, Sonar in his mind, and knowledge in his soul. He could research this thing, but one thing was still confusing.
Equipment sounded to be outside of many things, yet wasn’t that quite close to weapons and armor one could just craft and use? Why were there limits to them when Will of the Battleworld had to acknowledge them? Wearing them didn’t sound like a limit, but from his words, it seemed their effectiveness was subjected to the Will of the Battleworld’s readings.
One would believe they were out of that picture, similar to Boostless training and many other things.
Did this world disturb the equipment and similar treasures one might craft? Were wearing these things put with shackles in mind? If so, what made the equipment good if there were some limits that the world forced onto them? Weren’t there leveling difficulties already for them?
Murai didn’t get why this old man was speaking of some limits, but it wasn’t any different from how he viewed abilities.
As the old man said, his creation went against some rules, albeit he didn’t state it directly. He had limited ideas about what Experiment #140 had in worldly rules, as it was quite a robust piece of empowering mana treasure that should work with mana space and the core. It should be workable… Possibly accepted by some nasty limits because he gave it to a Child.
It was also fairly inflexible and wild, as his touches to the runic structure possessed his biggest touch. The world shall take that into its rules that were far from this old man’s touches, but if Murai wore it, something funny would happen for sure.
After all, one thing was still a fact. Having it even with limits was good. From the material standpoint, it was a good protection treasure, even if its internal workings wouldn’t pass the marks of balance and readings.
This sort of issue was something that all craftsmen cared about. They had to consider the rules if they wanted to create nice things and had value and business to sell.
Old man created layers of interesting runes and treasures that should put some power into a new perspective. It shouldn’t be a good thing from the rule standpoint, but it wasn't as if he cared about it.
There were finite answers and facts about this hoodie, which all equipment had in common.
The world was accepting these crafts, giving them limits. Levels and limits weren’t up to the crafters, but they sure could make their treasures as best as possible and discover what they did after the world accepted them.
Essentially, the old man had no worries about his craft, although he knew exactly what effects and powers it should hold because of his experience and intentions. But in terms of what it would do to Murai, or how the world would take it into account, he wasn’t sure.
He could only pray to no God in particular that Murai won’t die because of it.
Murai wasn’t all that knowledgeable about how treasures and such things worked in this world. In practice, things differed. Lisa explained to him the situation about Artifacts or Equipment with excuses, but truths.
He won't be using them as a duck, yet who was laughing now?
Murai got his first piece of proper equipment so he should be happy about it. He mostly ignored Lisa's topics about them after knowing they were useless. As a duck…. Well, he at least had an idea about what level and grading scheme worked like.
Lisa made sure of it, thanks to the Keys he had. Lisa held them, but as if it was important.
“Fine, old man. You won your share of my interest. So yes. You might say that I will take it, but it doesn’t answer my feathers. Before this… meeting, I spent Question Mark asking about Anatidaes. Their beak, feathers, and wings are all big variables. They are their aspects, or so Mindarch talked about them. Isn’t it obvious that this hoodie is kind of strange to call it a uniform? Do all Anatidaes wear this sort of thing? You seem to know about it... Tell me why,” Murai said to him, squinting his eyes and hoping for answers.
Doubts lingered there too, as if he was questioning this old man’s skills and ideas.
Which wasn’t wrong.
The old man chuckled in a good mood, expecting this to come sooner. “Question Mark, huh? That fella took that like a charm, right? I think I’ve put this realm to my benefit, but someone still lingers here… or something.” The old man turned his chair, glaring around nowhere in particular.
Then he heard some thin voice.
[No… need to care. Not as if I am eavesdropping. Just listening. Oh! Crap! Wait. Wait. Wait. That's the same thing, isn't it?] Mindarch panicked.
“You cheeky thing… I thought I’d got my deal.”
[You did, so?]
“Can’t I have some privacy?”
[No.] Mindarch simply refused. [Where we are again, huh? Where?!]
“Your head, you idiot.” the old man sighed, as if helpless with this soul construct. “Does she know it, or had she ordered it?”
[Actually, more pressing problems are going on right now, so this conversation goes against her orders. She told me to not come even a bit closer to you. Hah! Who laughs now? You can handle Citizen M to your liking, as it is within the rights of the situation. Same as my existence… that trashed at your little thing far too wildly. Seriously, it took too much effort for my liking!]
“Your problem,” the old man said coldly as he turned back to Murai, who wasn’t all that surprised to hear Mindarch speaking. Their conversation seemed to give him weird ideas.
“So you work with Levandis.” He quacked.
“Alright. Not that. Where have we ended? Right. Of course, they do wear the uniforms. It is their signature. A token of their power, albeit it is more complicated. Wait here.. Wait a moment. I think there is something here that gets this topic more light.” The old man pushed himself from the table, traveling in the chair across the room.
The chair had flexible wheels at the bottom, allowing him to travel unobscured on a smooth wooden floor. It was quick, and every movement needed just a light kick on the floor.
The old man rode in the chair like a champion, arriving at different walls littered with many kinds of books on shelves. Murai glanced at them as he pushed his Sonar onwards.
The majority of them had some form of mana undulations, but most had some locks or spells, indicating some research papers, tomes, or various books with unknown knowledge or purpose.
There were a lot of them, he deducted by clearer mana and their names written on their sides. Who knew what sort of things were in those that weren’t up to his Sonar or eyes? Some of them looked the same as the Heavenly Shaping Manual, looking barely coherent and like a piece of shit. Their aura was thin like weeds or nonexistent to his senses.
The old man knew what to look for, albeit he wasn’t the owner of this place.
[Now, what are you looking for?] Mindarch asked in a bother. [Don’t go around my home! Make sure to tidy it up afterward… Old people are unreliable.]
The old man chuckled. “You wished.”
Research facilities were also part of this treasury and special vault. It went deep, as all sorts of rewards for higher-level Challengers meant knowledge, information, or power in many forms. Some Mana Tomes weren't about techniques, but legends, or specific information filled with wonders from old ages.
It all made sense in the fairness of what kind of individuals came here for. What they wanted could wary a lot.
Murai stood on the table, not yet ready to take his interest in this room. He still focused on the old man, who took some book into his hand after yet another snarky comment from Mindarch about how uncaring he was about his voice.
But if anyone, this old man can take and do anything in this room right now. Mindarch can’t stop him even if he could.
One moment later, the old man kicked the floor again, pushing his chair from the bookshelf back to the table. Seamless and quick, all of this took a few seconds, giving Murai a bet that the old man knew what to look for and must know a lot more than he said.
Every inch of that bookshelf may be on top of his palm, or worse? Better? Perhaps he was underestimating this old man, who was yet to tell who he was, or where he came from.
The last hour was full of topics that he took like a careful fox, unwilling to let everything out of his mind. He reminded him too much of Lisa who wouldn’t be happy with this old man for sure. Perhaps they would like each other or… not at all.
Murai recognized it, which was why he repeated some of his questions about feathers, but he didn’t answer his most important questions.
The old man took most of the topics to his own hands and mouth, telling what he wanted, and what he desired thanks to the fact he was here right now, talking to Murai behind many heads and backs. Most of it revolved around Murai’s living, past lives, or the hoodie, which Murai accepted like a gift that sounded interesting after begrudging acceptance.
The old man was holding a rather thick and tall-looking book that seemed like an encyclopedia.
He opened it for his eyes alone first, forcing the main cover onto Murai’s face. Pages turned away under his jolting eyes, quick hands, and mind that moved to what he wanted.
The cover was nothing abnormal, but Murai saw its age right away. It was robust and veiled protection spells were around it, protecting it from unkept hands, interest, or time itself.
Neither of which was a bother for this old man, who crashed some spells with a flick of his hand. Black leather covered each corner, hugging the wooden frame of the book for unnecessary protection and smugness, because spells protected its condition more than enough.
But so much can be protected for many millennia, or more. Time was unnerving, always clinching to anything that went through human hands. This time, it may be something that went through much more than that. After all, whatever it was, it must be here for a reason.
Murai never heard of some books being included at the end of this Gate. It was no wonder. He had no clue about the height of the rewards that were around the Gates that adhered to unknown heights and limits.
It depended on how many times a Challenger went to Gates or how deep. Their result, success, Levels, and overall power moved the results and ceiling of the treasures next. It wasn't about points, but overall choices.
All the endings at each Gate provided rewards ranging from a pile of shit for Level 10s—if they could even come to that point—to Extreme treasures or various other interests. Those could be simple words, books, precious materials, or, as Murai knew, Influence Items.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
He was here for them alone because it was under his current limit and a wealth of interest. Some Relic Artifacts were also there for his eyes, thanks to his pair of Keys.
So when he glared at the cover of the book, he noticed its name on one side. It was an uncommon language, depending on the world or culture. Symbols were etched into the wood and leather, representing its name in the elven tongue.
Encyclopedia of Beasts.
Part 1: History of Beast in the Skies, Depths, and Surface.
Murai read it without a problem, wondering what sort of things were written inside of it. He noticed there were thousands of pages, thanks to the time the old man took to look for what he wanted.
In a minute, he found the chapter and sub-chapter he looked for. Turning the book around, he showed quite interesting pages to Murai.
Beak open, eyes wide, he glanced at the many pictures depicting all sorts of ducks. There were numerous pictures, sketches, and diagrams of them wearing clothes, armor, and even stranger clothing. Some were weird and depicted old or otherworldly styles. Some ducks even wore suit, appearing like a gang leader.
Like him, most had just an upper body covered in some leather or fabric, often stylized like human clothes. Murai was the same, but his hoodie looked fairly modern and unfit for this world.
Some ducks had even simple robes with a leather belt around the belly or neck going up around the back.
Once more, it was insensible to seek this circus, but facts were before his eyes. Some ducks had even better interesting concepts. The rare boots and hats made them look quite comical. Additionally, some armors functioned as miniature fortresses. Murai had no intention of laughing. After all, he was one of them.
Up above them, on the uppermost edge of the page, was the title of a sub-chapter.
Anatidae Uniforms, written in elven tongue.
Unfortunately or not, most of the pictures were sketches and even less were written about the content of the rare pictures. The old man showed him many pages, giving him a look at a gallery with some comments about their styles, choices, cuts, or various means.
It didn’t mention those who made these clothes. Just pictures and ideas.
“So, it is true, I suppose? These handwriting and paintings have quite some style for them. As expected of elves.” Murai added as he returned to normal.
“Some of my ancestors were the ones to write it, but never mind that.” Commented the old man, closing the book and tossing it at the other end of the table.
“Ancestors? Rudolf was... interested in ducks?”
“Not only interest.”
“Hmmm. Not bad, I suppose. He was insane before, so he must’ve liked their concept. No wonder. I can see some value in that book, though you have yet to comment on some of my pending questions. This book provides context and history. Uniforms are fitting words, that much I must acknowledge.”
“That is true, I suppose. Fine, I will add more layers to this book. The clothes and uniforms are part of the style and history of the Anatidae species. Do you know how they came to be? Did someone, or anything, mention that? The world would often do that.”
“Know a few facts. True.” Murai nodded. “Their history dates back to the times when Gods wanted some pets. Anatidaes are the aftermath.” He said as if he was proud to remember this little of the truth.
The old man would expect more, so he sighed and figured the truth was often forgotten, ignored, or not said at all. He wasn’t surprised.
“That is the gist of it. Clothes and their uniform are an aspect of that past. Now, I gave you one, because you need it and deserve my attention. Now, I am not even asking for some exaggerated price like some idiots would. Bah!” the old man sneered, remembering something nasty from the past.
“History... Can I look at that book?” Murai tried to dig for some knowledge, but when he looked at that book, it was once more filled with locks and protection spells.
“No.” The old man refused him as quickly as he wanted and tossed it away. “This place’s depths aren’t for you to take. The world may be the same, as any Child should be wary of their steps. The thing is, I do have a price. Care to give it?”
“Price? What? I feel someone should gift me something in return for being... experimental rat. Or...” Murai hesitated as thin layers of doubt or conscience told him to accept this. The old man told him plenty of things and even gave him this hoodie that seemed more than he could guess.
“Let me be physical.” the old man moved his hands and quickly grabbed Murai’s back. He gently swiped the fabric away, looking for some feathers deep around his back, close to the tail.
Murai wasn’t that pleased to be handled like this, but he allowed this to happen. Perhaps it was his conscience working, or curiosity about what he was doing.
[Oh, what that one is doing!? Oh? No way!] Mindach seemed to be surprised, but the old man didn’t care for him.
Flexing his fingers, he found the feathers he wanted. They looked more crisp than usual, and their amber color was deep, looking like shiny metal, hiding underneath many layers of other feathers.
He grabbed one of them and picked it out of its foundation, which was essentially Murai’s whole body.
As he did so in one move, right afterward, and like lighting, a piercing pain went all over Murai’s back, shivering his body and giving him pain.
Grunting and quacking a high-pitched noise, this pain was so immense and quick, he felt it like a day-long torture happened in a heartbeat.
Clutching his wings and neck, he let the pain away, as if it was only temporary. Whatever happened shall soon pass.
It was a fine excuse, which worked to ease the pain. He still cursed in his mind, glaring a hole into this old man’s head. He wasn’t that vocal, as one would think. Perhaps because he wanted to remain stubborn for the sake of hearing what this old man had to tell, or his mere existence caused Murai to be like this.
Murai pretended to be tougher than he was, so he stopped out tears forming and innards turning. He didn't expect a single loss of a feather would hurt him this much. Now, he never wanted to lose his feathers ever again.
Either way, the feather was between the old man's fingers, slightly glowing and looking like a prize. He took care of it, lifting it close to his eyes. Observing no less than a 10 centimeters long feather between his thumb and point finger, it seemed interesting and special.
Murai didn’t know why it was like this. Most of his feathers didn’t look this way. He didn't care for it, however, albeit he should. The old man found his disinterest rather fascinating, similar to his demeanor, tolerance, and other things.
He nodded to himself a couple of times, watching the feather and Murai alike. “Interesting. This right here is my little payment. Do you agree?”
“I couldn’t care less,” Murai answered, half cursing the pain away and half sure his legs were still quivering. He faked his stubbornness successfully after he was back at the table.
“Excellent. Now, are you familiar with the world of the Battleworld and its various blessings and workings?”
“A bit. My... Life Companion is a bit useless in this regard, but I’ve heard enough from Mindarch, a few people, and the Will of the Battleworld itself. Added together, it is enough for most things. At least what I need right now isn’t much. I am sure I am lacking in a lot of ways.”
“That isn’t wrong or right. Do you want to change that?” the old man offered.
“I might. The world or some Gods want my head, right beside the fools in the Centralis Kingdom that took their mantle because of some rules this world has, I suppose. Gods can’t come to the surface willy-nilly. So as far as it makes sense, Lordis, God of Battle, that asshole is behind my neck. Why or how he thinks of it isn’t under my eyes.”
The old man took his quacks in silence.
“Beside that,” Murai continued. “Blessings are whatever. Can’t care for Gods and their lofty asses. Evolutions, on the other hand, sound and look intense. I like their concept and how everything boils down to a choice one can make. Paths are the same, but I am nowhere near what I want. Abilities and their evolutions are nice.”
“Hm? Anatidae evolutions and Paths are an interesting concept when added together. May I hear of it further? What are your plans?”
“Plans? Not dying and fucking this shit up.” Murai spread his wings and stretched his neck. Pain still lingered in his back, but he ignored it. “Needs for time and magic are the same. Got some nice things, however. A Tome called Heavenly Shaping and my magic is good.. albeit squeezed like a toy.”
“Squeezed... I tend to hear that a lot, but the Heavenly Shaping is nice. I might’ve heard about that. Old and rough, it is the epitome of the complex legacy of the Pillage Emperor, but we talked about it a little already. An old dog, right?” The old man nodded and wrote something into his notebook that at some point appeared in his grasp.
“Tell me about it...” Murai sighed.
“But that sounds about right for those worthy to make such choices. Some cannot take that to their heads. Others have so much. A choice is like a curse. I presume Rudolf’s Tome allowed you to see most of this clearer?”
“Clearer? That man was full of his head and pride. Some things never change, I know. But I haven’t read into it as I’ve got that tome with a mere few steps into this world. I even lost it. Haven’t I said that?” Murai wondered if he did or not. He wasn’t sure. A lot of topics went left and right when this old man wasn’t that specific.
“L-lost it?” The old man seemed a bit shocked and hesitant. Scratching his chin in the process of some recollection, he mumbled something inaudible before changing back to normal. “The thing is, the Blessed figures are like top dogs of this world. One should think of them as takers of the past that came here because of some merit. They gain tremendous advantages thanks to the sakes of their unique past. You, my little friend, are so different from that idea. I don’t even know how to describe it.”
Murai puffed his chest. “Should I feel honored? Crazy? Sane? I don’t care where I’ve ended up. I care for the present.”
“Perhaps it’s even crazier than one would expect and see. I, for once, can’t comprehend the past things Rudolf left out or mentioned. Whatever will go out of this will be next to impossible to read or guess. Fascinating stuff. Seeing your soul and situation arriving at this world filled with so much stuff. I can’t see the end of it, but the world and everything follows or bends around it.”
“It’s passable time.” Murai downplayed his world, listening to him, and wondered what were his questions again. He was becoming lost in the conversation and what he wanted from this old man.
“May I have one question myself?” the old man asked next and didn’t even wait for Murai to nod or quack. “Do you recognize the content of your hoodie? That would help you with its purpose, but can’t guess your memories or soul itself. It is deep. Like void.”
“Heard that before. Think of something else. But the hoodie, huh?” Murai glanced at it again and even moved his Sonar over it. “I wasn’t paying attention to your acts, but I’ve seen your bits. Mana threads are made of some soft and thin concepts of sand, fluid, metals, and something else. It mends into the layers. Their quality is unknown to me, nor is this leather. The soft fabric is mostly on the surface, but it is all over the place. I doubt the natural ways. Is it processed with some additional materials, making it synthetic? It would give some answers to the internal structures of runes or that fabric, but it gives more doubts and questions as well. I am not sure knowing them would help me with anything.”
The old man wrote more notes, nodding in return to his guesses.
“There is also this gem, as we talked about. I mentioned it at least, but doesn’t it form a Rune Heart that handles formations that activate more runes or something specific?”
“More or less. It is a heart, in some sense. Though, it’s far from the activations, since it is a gift that is yet to be processed. You might try to handle it as I’ve made it, which works just fine for some people, but it is like handling a dangerous toy to a toddler.”
“Excuse me?” Murai frowned at his slightly mocking face.
“As I’ve said. Battleworld won’t allow something like this to go unnoticed, as I take this whole situation with this temple in mind. This is my little hiding spot, far away from things that would make things difficult for me and others.”
“So you are involved in demonic Gods, or... Hell Gods or how they are called in this world? Or… others?”
“Of course. Do you think Rudolf would be against it?” He laughed.
“You kidding? He had no care for the Order or Chaos in his head. Of course not.”
“You bet. Sometimes, Rudolf was much ferocious, tougher, and cruel than some measly little devils or demons.” The old man said those words with quiet confidence and proudness for his late ancestor.
He still talked fast, but slower than in the start. Murai could discern his feelings with ease, albeit without Soul Read in sight. He didn’t feel or figure a thing out of him at all, but it wasn't a problem for him.
Soul Read had limits. Few ridiculous things would allow a Child to view or make sense of powerful figures or those close to them. He figured that from Ceila and the other Suns.
But this old man should be different from them. Glancing at his own feather in the old man’s hands, Murai didn’t have a word to give to his melancholy.
“Oh, sorry. Let these memories do their thing isn’t usual for me to see. This hoodie is my gift, which shall be at some point overlooked by the Battleworld, fused to you, or taken away. I wonder which will happen first.”
“Won’t it be difficult for you? I mean, it sounds like crafters are taking some interest in it as well, mistakes, or they feel to me as if they are slaves to this system.”
“I will be fine. Trust me. There might be an agreement or something under the present Encounter that I’ve noted. I suspect this hoodie won’t come into effect until you will go beyond your starting Part.”
“Oh, that? But I’ve already had some little things here and there. Upon entering the temple, Mindarch worked over these chaining rules, didn’t he?”
[I sure did!] Murai said proudly. Once again, this pair of ridiculous things overlooked his comments.
“This is different. It’s my gift.” This time, the old man was prouder than ever.
“Fine... I will look into this further, so have my thanks for making this hoodie then.”
“Got payment.” The old man played with the feather in his hand.
“Sounds like a cheap thing. Wanna more feathers? Got a few thousand more, I think?” Murai folded his wings, offered his back and ass, and chuckled.
The old man refused him quite politely with a slight bow.
“Anyway, will this hoodie act in a steadier form with some mana included?” Murai asked. “Runes always work that way, so does it have some strange properties? Should my Shaping or Conjuring do its justice? Limits should forget that idea or some outer mess like the Will of the Battleworld.”
“Hohoho. I will let you, little friend, be the judge of that. Yes. The initiating procedures work even without accepted equipment or Artifacts. That is true. It is often limiting, however. Try to overcome my gift and you will be glad about it. It’s still a single piece of equipment like many others, but working with that is up to you, a Blessed who is truly blessed.”
The old man took a deep breath, glad that everything he wanted to do and tell was successful. He accepted and stored the feather in a page of his notebook.
“Alright, anything else that you want to tell?” Murai asked. “I’ve got the gist of how useful it is, even with the feathers in the way. It is up to my interest to care for it like with Heavenly Shaping. It feels like I will be busy, huh?”
“True. Do your best. Other than that, there is nothing much, apart from doing Mindarch’s work. Poor soul got scared or something, or Levandis ordered him to go away from my sight? I wonder, which is it?”
[Shut up… you pretend I am not here… Jackass for your own good.]
Murai almost laughed and wondered if it was the truth. “You are that big of a deal, huh? For an old man that gave the duck a piece of cloth, I am not impressed.”
“You don’t have to be. Now, if my memory serves me right, you are allowed to take any Influence Item from this place, or according to Mindarch’s guidance, so I suppose I will do it instead?”
The old man gestured with his hands away from the table, pointing to the wide room filled with unfathomable wealth.
The hut had sections with tables and shelves. Many had weapons and other things. Some were full of stored glass containers or bottles depicting Influence Items.
There were also equipment pieces and tools ranging from Relic Artifacts to Law Artifacts. Anything better was usually under strict concealment formation, leaving any aura hidden or dull.
“I suppose this is the end of our discussion, so allow me to ask another question,” Murai demanded.
“Free to tell.”
“What’s your name? Calling you old sounds like injustice.”
“Name? Well, you have yours in many acts, I presume? Mine is simple. People and all sorts of beings call me Amelius. A rather young-sounding name for my age, but it’s fitting, don’t you think?”
“Amelius? That is good. Good name.”
“Unlike you, with many names under his belt, it is more than enough. Now, begone with this chit-chat. I bet the course of this Encounter won’t be that pleasant, and you have gifts and Gates to take. We have been talking for so long and far too free in mind and soul. Help yourself with some treasures and move on. Spending more time with an old man such as myself is no longer needed.”
“Is that so? I had fun.”
“Then I bet the time for the next meeting won’t be far away, anyway. Now, go. Shoo.” Amelius pushed his chair, forming a clear closure upon this exchange. He didn’t elaborate on their next meeting.
He went aside, clutching his notebook, and became reading or writing at ridiculous speeds.
Murai wasn’t interested in that, albeit he glanced at the BeastEncyklopedia aside. There was a clear boundary that mattered. Dissociation with whatever Murai was about to do was his take on respect and pride. Amelius pretended he no longer existed.
This left Mura in his hoodie, standing at the table. He was glad to meet Amelius, who at least introduced himself at the last minute, but he was still unaware of where he came from or why he knew so much about Anatidaes.
Murai adjusted his body in the hoodie, making his feathers more comfortable after losing a single one to Amelius’s hands. He still felt that itch on his back, but most of that pain disappeared by now.
Glancing at him for one last time, he jumped from the table before seizing his reasons for coming here. The hoodie was a delightful bonus, however.
There were all kinds of stuff that he paid no attention to upon his arrival. He spent all that time talking with Amelius, leaving the primary content of the tables or shelves obsolete.
Fortunately for them, Murai was pushed to ignore their interest and had a mind around the table. By now, his mind had forgotten about that pendant.
Whatever opportunity or treasure was there, he would pick something nice behind Lisa’s back.
Hm? Amelius mentioned some nice things about evolutions, so I presume the Influence Item is fine to interpret as a secondary addition to one of my three choices. Besides Aquantis, I have nothing. Sounds like a shortcut to get the finite choice done. I need 3 choices before fully starting the evolution by making a choice and meeting some requirements. That was at least what I’ve gathered from it last time. Murai thought as he glanced around and pushed his Sonar to some objects of interest.
Bottles with liquids and apparatuses, that mages use when conducting experiments and who knew what else, were on some section of shelves. Bottles of all kinds were all interesting and popular portrayals of Influence Items. They were often natural, but a lot of them were the work of mages who experimented or worked with Bloodlines. Usually, Influence Items could be anything. Even a feather, teeth, skin, bone, and so on.
These potion Influence Items were often potent or weak, depending on the concoction and purity of the Bloodlines and choices of ingredients.
Bloodline was not always about the blood, but most bottles held up red liquid.
Murai saw at least a hundred bottles having names on a little strip of leather that was like a tag when one would buy some potions in the magical markets. Most had a name, grade, level, and even purity that showed the main ingredient and their quality.
Murai went from bottle to bottle first, glancing at each tag and their information. He wasn’t looking or feeling the bottles themselves, albeit almost all of them were unobscured, allowing him to notice their effects or purity. That was mostly about feelings alone and mana.
In physical realms, sealing them went for a good reason and protection. Undulations and some sense were perfect for his sensual Sonar or his eyes alone.
It was easy to assume bloodline extractions, concoctions, or the simple work of mages. Those were blackish red, denser than more diluted or conducted Influence Items. The thinner the redness went, the less pure it was.
But that was where quality might get out of the picture. The grade of materials mattered; purity could be various. Low-purity but high-class ingredients would yield better results than high purity of poor ingredients.
Distinguishing between them was the job for senses and mana alike. Or the content of the strips around those bottles.
Murai was happy to see something familiar. He had touched on this subject in some of his lives, as Bloodlines worked wonderfully across many words and ages alike. After all, all living beings had some way to touch their origin foundation, spark, genom, or however else some worlds called them.
Influence Items around evolutions and this world were new to his standards, but they weren't anything groundbreaking. They weren't the perfect way to start an evolution, of course.
Most ways to touch the Bloodlines were under his knowledge, and he finally uncovered the portrayal of the Influence Items that were basic Bloodline treasures in many worlds.
It was the exact same thing in his demonic life. This world had it a little better because the Will of the Battleworld and its acts of evolution helped a lot with many shortcomings and clarity.
Lives ago, a demon with a poor Bloodline, Murai was a fiend that hated weakness. Bloodlines were currencies in that memory. Bottles of the finest pure bloodline were worth a fortune and power. A lot of killings as well.
Here, these bottles around him were melancholic and nice, looking affordable like grass.
He can take any one of them. He held no limitations whatsoever.