It probably would have been easier if we’d just walked to Riverbend. The road was riddled with holes and washed out in places, leaving the Trailbinder to jolt and lurch uncontrollably as we pressed on. Conversation was impossible, drowned out by the rattling cart and the intensifying rain. By the time we reached a set of gates, my entire body ached from the ride.
A half-dozen Vildar ran out to greet us, scurrying eagerly around the cart like excited children.
“My ass hurts,” I muttered to Cass as I dismounted, wincing with each step. “Mana or no, that was awful.”
Cass grinned as she hopped off the opposite side—straight into a mud puddle. A loud “Fuck!” followed, and I peeked around the cart to find her sprawled in the muck, rain pouring down on her.
Red bounded over, his tail wagging furiously as he snuffled at her. Cass shoved herself upright, glaring at the mud clinging to her.
“Gods-dammit. Well, at least it’s still raining,” she grumbled, brushing off as much mud as she could.
An Albinus Vildar broke away from the others and rushed toward us. “Oh, Hunters!” he called, his voice practically a squeak. “Are you here for the Lumifrax problem?”
“We are,” Cass replied instantly, her tone all business.
The Vildar brightened even further. “Oh, Lady Cassandra! I’m so happy to have you on the job. Where is Chas?”
“No Chas today, Lou. This here’s Breaker Ben Crawford, Acolyte of the Hunters,” Cass said with a grin in my direction. “He’s the one holding the job bill. And that’s his familiar, Red. He’s a dog.”
Red tilted his head, panting as if to confirm his identity. For added measure, he gave what could only be described as a dignified nod.
“Uh, hi,” I said, feeling lame but unable to come up with anything better.
“The Breaker! Oh, please, come into the town,” Lou said, nearly tripping over himself with excitement. “You must have had a long trip. Let’s get you a nice, comfortable chair and some tea.”
Cass and I exchanged a look, both wincing at the thought of sitting down again. Even if the tea wasn’t as bad as Astrid’s, I couldn’t imagine it beating the coffee we’d had at breakfast.
“No thanks,” Cass said, cutting him off. “We’d like to survey the location of the Lumifrax. Can you point us in the right direction?”
Lou blinked but nodded quickly. “Oh, yes. About six spans that way.” He gestured toward a small valley visible in the distance. “They’ve holed up there but be warned—the landscape is evolving into swamp in that direction. The smell is… quite something.”
We nodded and set off down the hill from the town. Silence stretched between us for a while, the squelching of mud and the steady patter of rain our only company. About fifty meters away, I finally broke it.
“So now that I’ve found Valor,” I asked hesitantly, “does that mean I’m going to Sylvarus?”
Cass let out a scoff. “Oh, Gaia’s tits, no. Finding a Seal Candidate is one thing, but actually binding it to your soul? That’s the hard part. At least, that’s what Felix and Chas always say. With enough time and mana, you can use whatever tier-three sigil you want, but aligning your body and soul with it? That’s what takes forever.”
She shot me a side-eye. “Well, for you? Who knows… asshole.”
I laughed. “Good. I didn’t want to have that conversation when we got back to town. You and I are working together on this. That was the deal, right?”
“You bet your scrawny ass it was.” Cass smirked, then pointed ahead. “Oh hey, look!”
The hill we were descending began to level out, revealing a ruined structure made of intricately carved stone. Moss and grime covered most of it, but at the center stood an immaculate statue of a naked woman. Her hair flowed like liquid stone down to her feet, framing wide hips and a dramatically exaggerated bust.
“It’s Gaia!” Cass said almost reverentially, her tone full of awe. “Just look at those tits.”
I snickered like a kid, but then the realization hit me: Gods were real in the Multiverse. And this? This was a statue of one. An actual God.
“There’s no way,” I said, shaking my head. “Look, we have all kinds of Gods and beliefs on Earth. In fact, the name Gaia isn’t new to me. But that?” I pointed at the statue. “Goddess or not, she’s… uh… cartoonishly top-heavy.”
“Cartoonish?” Cass raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. Sorry—like someone drew her with exaggerated features, you know, for entertainment.”
Cass shrugged, smiling as she walked closer to the statue. “As far as I know that statue’s been here longer than the city has. And there are dozens more around the world, from what Nana says.” She reached out, placing a hand on the statue’s base as we passed. “Gaia is our people’s namesake. She created us in her image—or at least, the first ones. We’re descended from them.”
As we continued down the path, the grass beneath our boots gave way to mud, then to thick muck as the incline steepened.
“Who were the first ones?” I asked, curiosity piqued.
“They’re the ones who made Ark, I think. The statues around the farm are of them. They looked like Gaians—or humans too, I guess. But they’re all long gone. Died off with the Gods, if what Chas and Nana say is true. You can look them up in Sylvarus when we pass the exam.”
I blinked, trying to process that. “Wait, hold on. No one thought to tell me that the Gods are dead? I just found out they were real, and now I find out they’re gone. Awesome.”
Cass shrugged again. “Not like I know much about it. If Felix were here, he’d be ranting about it right now. Or you could ask Nana. She knows more about this stuff than anyone else I can think of.”
“Noted.” I nodded absently, running my hand along Red’s head as we walked. He was conveniently just the right height for it, his ears twitching every now and then. “I might ask her next time I see her. And I’ve got a few questions for Chas too.”
“If he ever fucking comes back,” Cass muttered with a sigh.
We walked in companionable silence for a while. Lou had said the Lumifrax were about six spans away, roughly three kilometers. With the rain beginning to slow and the clouds thinning enough to reveal the position of the sun, we picked up our pace. The terrain grew softer underfoot, the scent of damp earth and decay growing stronger as we neared our destination.
A smell hit me like a wall—thick, sour, and choking. It reeked of rot, like everything around us had decided to decay at once. I gagged, putting my arm over my nose.
“Is that the swamp? Ugh.” I squinted down the hill, still unable to see anything through the trees. Even Cass’s face twisted in disgust. Then, just as suddenly as it came, the smell was gone.
I glanced at Red, who stood there panting, his tongue hanging out like nothing had happened. He looked at me with that wide-eyed, tail-wagging enthusiasm that screamed innocence—or maybe guilt.
“Red, was that you?” I asked, half-serious. “What the hell did you eat?”
Cass laughed so hard she had to stop walking. “That was rancid, Red. Even I smelled it.”
Red, naturally, didn’t look ashamed in the slightest. If anything, he looked proud, his tail wagging even harder. Shaking my head, I picked up the pace, moving ahead of the group. If this dog could produce a smell like that, I was staying upwind.
It wasn’t long before the real swamp came into view.
The stench returned, a faint warning of what was ahead, but this time it lingered. The trees around us twisted unnaturally, their trunks gnarled and slick with grime. The ground became muddy, then turned into shallow standing water, and the sounds of the rainforest gave way to something entirely different—a strange, high-pitched warble that reminded me of crickets, only… wrong.
“This place sucks,” I muttered, scanning the area. Bravery was reduced to about ten meters, barely enough to feel safe. My instincts screamed at me to push for Valor, to extend my senses, but the mana cost wasn’t worth it. Not yet.
“Monsters warp the land around them,” Cass said quietly. “Enough of them in one place, and they start to leave an impression. That’s why we hunt them—keep things from spiraling out of control. Stop here.”
We stopped. Red’s paws were submerged in the water now, and his fur bristled as he growled low in his throat.
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It didn’t take long to see why. A basketball-sized frog sat on a rotting log twenty meters ahead, its dark skin shimmering with glowing blue patches. Its unblinking, deep blue eyes were locked on us.
“Oh… shit,” Cass whispered as more frogs began to appear. They glowed faintly in the dim light, perched on trees, logs, and in the water all around us.
Then the warbling stopped.
The sudden silence was deafening. Only the soft patter of rain on the canopy above remained. My chest tightened, Bravery flaring with a warning just as something shot toward me—a whip-like tongue lashing out from above, wrapping around my arm before I could react.
Cass didn’t miss a beat. Her swords flashed, cutting through the thick tongue in a single fluid motion. Purple ooze sprayed everywhere, and a massive frog fell from the branch above, thrashing in the water as she finished it off with brutal efficiency.
The stench of dead frogs was dizzying, thick and hanging in the humid air. Cass was a whirlwind, slicing through the monsters with swift, deliberate movements, but I noticed she was missing a glove, and only one sword remained in her hand.
Red had retreated back the way we came, his figure just visible in the distance. My brief glance toward him cost me mana as Bravery flared in warning. Two attacks came at me simultaneously, forcing me to dodge awkwardly.
These Lumifrax were Class F, but they were proving just as dangerous as the Carapax I’d faced days ago. Surrounded, even with the armor, I couldn’t react fast enough. My movements were sluggish, and every swing of my spear felt heavier. I was struggling to keep up.
Despair flickered at the edge of my mind, and for the first time, Bravery faltered. My focus broke, and I tripped trying to dodge a tongue that snapped just past my head. I crashed into the shallow, murky water, rolling over and scrambling to get back on my feet.
The stumble was enough. Tongues lashed out in a flurry, and two caught me—one around my arm, the other coiling tight around my leg. Gritting my teeth, I impaled a leaping frog with my spear, its body jerking violently before it went limp.
“Shit,” I hissed, twisting to deal with the Lumifrax latched onto my leg. I slammed a mana-infused punch into its head. The creature exploded with a wet, nauseating pop, spraying purple goo across my face. I gagged at the stench but forced myself to keep moving.
Cass darted across the battlefield, her feet seeming to skim the water’s surface as she danced between the monsters. For every one she cut down, two more replaced it, their glowing forms closing in. She was fast—faster than I had ever seen her—but even she was being pushed to her limits.
“They’re swarming, we need to run!” she yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos. Wind and water whipped around her as she sliced another frog in two.
I stumbled toward her, a frantic idea forming. Digging into my earring as I ran, I searched for something useful among her clothes. My fingers closed on it—a red mana coin.
Slamming the coin into one of the silvery disc traps we’d been given in Rainhaven, I brought it out, the device humming to life in my gauntleted hand. Almost immediately a thick tongue latched onto it, and it flew into a Frog’s mouth.
Cass’s eyes went wide. “Oh fuck!” she screamed, grabbing my hand as the frog started to glow with an ominous white light.
The world twisted violently as vertigo slammed into me. In the haze, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Cass’s Swiftness rune, glowing brightly in my vision. The next thing I knew, we were crashing onto the muddy hill we’d descended earlier.
Almost immediately, a shockwave of white-hot energy erupted from the swamp. The blast lit up the morning sky and roared through the air, deafening and blinding. My ears rang painfully as I tried to process what had just happened.
I turned to Cass, who was sprawled out beside me in the mud.
“Wash kit,” she demanded, holding out her hand without looking at me. I fumbled in my earring, retrieved the kit, and handed it to her. With a quick gesture, the purple slime coating her disintegrated into vapor—then inexplicably drifted toward me, clinging to my clothes. I waved my hands uselessly as she tossed the spent kit onto my chest.
“I’m a slime magnet,” I muttered.
Cass ignored me. “What happened back there? Yesterday, you probably could’ve taken Erik in a fight. Where was Valor?” she asked, still staring up at the cloudy sky as rain misted over us.
I hesitated, unsure how to explain. “I think I was… scared,” I admitted, the realization hitting me as I said it. “I haven’t felt fear in a while, not really. But Bravery and fear clearly don’t mix. And Valor? It just wouldn’t work. It’s like it actively resists when I try to use it.”
Cass mulled that over. “Maybe that’s on me,” she said after a beat. “After seeing you yesterday, I thought you were on Erik’s level, but neither of us are. That was your first time using Valor, right? Even someone like Felix couldn’t channel his Seal perfectly at first. We should’ve been more careful.”
I sat up and picked up the wash kit, inspecting it with my mana sight. It was completely spent. With a sigh, I slotted in one of my few remaining blue coins and watched as the pink bar on the device slowly regenerated.
“Those mana traps are fucking awesome,” I said suddenly. Cass let out a short laugh, sitting up.
“They’re designed to incapacitate Class E monsters. Smart move using it, but the Lumifrax? There’s going to be a lot of mana pearls in there. We’ll want to collect them before anything else eats them.”
“Do you think it took them all out?” I asked.
“Probably the ones nearby, at least. We still need to be careful going back in to clean up.”
I turned my head, wincing at the dull ache in my arm, and caught sight of Red. He stood a little way off, tail wagging furiously, in front of a neat pile of glowing mana pearls.
“Uh, Cass?” I nodded toward him.
“Huh. That’s a useful familiar,” she said with a grin. “Let’s head back to Riverbend. Your arm looks like shit, and I lost my glove. What a shitty scouting trip.”
Once the wash kit was recharged, I cleaned myself off and got to my feet, my arm throbbing but functional. Walking over to Red, I patted him and scratched behind his ears, storing the pile of pearls in my earring.
“Good boy,” I said, pulling out some bread for him. He beamed up at me, tail wagging. “I need to find you something better to eat.”
As we started back toward Riverbend, Cass broke the silence. “You said Valor resisted you?” she asked.
“Not Valor itself. Bravery doesn’t like it when I try to mix it with Compassion,” I explained.
Cass stopped in her tracks, staring at me like I’d just announced I could fly. “Wait. You’re trying to modify a spell while its bound? Ben, you’re not supposed to tweak them—you bind the spell as it is. Have you tried turning off Bravery? How long have you been using it?”
I winced at her incredulous tone. “Pretty much all the time?”
Her mouth opened, then closed, and then opened again. “How the fuck do you have the mana for that?”
“It doesn’t use mana unless I’m reacting to something,” I said, shrugging.
“That’s not possible,” she said flatly. “Magic isn’t free. If it didn’t cost something, people would be flying around shooting fireballs and lightning bolts for fun.”
It honestly didn’t feel like it was using anything, but Diana had mentioned potential side effects. I shrugged again.
“At least it doesn’t drain mana. Diana told me how to turn it off, but it just… switches itself back on after a while.”
Cass shook her head in disbelief. “When was the last time you meditated?”
“With you and Ferris in the tower?”
She groaned. “Ben, no wonder it’s messed up. You need to meditate regularly to keep yourself balanced.”
The Gaia statue came into view as we passed it, her serene figure an odd contrast to the lingering stench of the swamp.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving her off. “I’ll get to it.”
“You’d better,” she shot back, her tone firm but not unkind. “Because next time? I’m not dragging your ass out of there. That amount of speed took almost everything I had. If my path was wrong, I could’ve shattered my leg.”
Her words hit harder than I expected, stopping me mid-stride. Why was I being so casual about this? We’d just been in legitimate danger, and it was mostly my negligence and bravado that got us there. A wave of guilt washed over me as I took a deep breath, focusing inward. It was easier with the armor—Bravery’s aura effect seemed dampened somehow. I let it flicker out entirely, and the world shifted back into dull focus—as if it had been enhanced before.
No heightened senses, no warning pulses. Just me, standing in the rain, feeling everything as it was. I opened my eyes to see Cass staring at me, her expression softening as a flutter of uneasiness settled in my chest.
“I’m sorry, Cass,” I said quietly. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Meditating when we get back to town sounds like a really good idea.”
Her face shifted into something more genuine, her usual sharpness giving way to warmth. “Wow. It’s like a physical change. You turned it off, didn’t you?”
I nodded, and Red pressed into my leg as if he could sense my discomfort. His steady presence was grounding as we continued up the hill toward the town.
----------------------------------------
The people of Riverbend had given us a small hall to use, and Cass insisted I meditate right away.
It was raining. In my soul.
“Kid. Hey, kid?” Ted’s voice cut through the sound of the downpour as we stood in the courtyard, staring at the massive doors. He was holding what looked like a martini glass, but the liquid inside was some swirling, neon-blue concoction topped with a tiny paper umbrella and a wedge of fruit.
“Sorry, Ted. It’s just been a weird day,” I said, shaking off the distraction. “Bravery is messing with my soul, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t say messin’ with it. More like you’re uncoverin’ somethin’.” Ted climbed onto a railing, leveling his gaze with mine. Behind him, there was nothing but an endless drop into a vast ocean. He took a sip of his absurd drink, somehow managing to look thoughtful despite it. “Bindin’ the Seal to the door is the first step.”
“But it doesn’t use mana,” I pointed out. “How does that work? Magic isn’t supposed to be free. That’s what I’ve been told.”
“Ha!” Ted let out a sharp laugh, gesturing with the glass as he spoke. “Kid, Bravery ain’t about mana—it’s spirit magic. Spirit magic don’t need mana, it needs a soul. And guess what? You’ve got one, so…” He made a vague gesture with his free hand and whistled like that explained everything.
“Spirit magic is different from other magic, then?” I asked, more to clarify than out of real curiosity. Felix had touched on this before—how spirit magic was technically a tier higher, more abstract, and harder to use.
“Oh, believe you me, kid,” Ted said, his tone dry. “Valor? You picked yourself a doozy. Radiance, Courage, Compassion? An infinite multiverse of possibilities, and that’s the cocktail you went with. And I think you know that one does need mana.” He held up his drink for emphasis, the neon liquid swirling ominously. “Guess I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“You don’t agree?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re supposed to be my spirit guide.”
“Guide, not boss. I ain’t here to tell you what to do,” Ted replied, hopping off the railing and strolling toward the doors. He took another sip of his bizarre drink, smacked his lips, and added, “I’m here to help you open that door. You just decided to make it really tough on your old pal Ted, is all.”
“I’ve known you exist for less than a week,” I muttered, walking up to the door.
Ted scoffed, not missing a beat as he followed. “And already, I’m doin’ overtime for ya. Look, here.” He pointed to two undulating runes on the door. They glowed faintly, one on each side where the doorknobs would be.
“These showed up when you bound Valor the first time. Not just holdin’ it—when you really got it. You put Valor to proper fuckin’ use. Now they look like this, unreadable garbage.”
The runes seemed familiar, their meanings just out of reach, like words on the tip of my tongue. They didn’t form any recognizable language but gave the impression of a palace, with the symbols representing its name. The connection tugged at my mind, frustratingly elusive.
“Alright,” Ted said, glancing up at the now starry sky in my soul. “It’s gettin’ late. Here’s your homework. You ready?”
I nodded, still staring at the runes.
“Think about your magic. Think about who you are. What do they come together as? You feel like a superhero—give it a name if you need to. That’s the first step of findin’ your path. Just remember you ain’t cool enough to be Gandalf.” He tipped the rest of his drink back in one go, then sighed contentedly. “Oh, and don’t forget to practice with your staff, for fuck’s sake.”