After darting up and down a dozen corridors, the tracking stone in Nymin’s hand started glowing brighter. Excitement warred with fear, each keeping the other in check.
Even though Nymin knew she was close, it was still a surprise when her quarry appeared.
Pikawon was on his back, kicking out at two city guards who were cautiously approaching, accompanied by a growling dog with scorched patches in its fur. Another guard sat slumped against the wall with a gash in his arm bleeding sluggishly.
Even though the wounded guard was the closest, he didn’t notice her approach. He’d obviously lost a lot of blood, most of which was soaked into his uniform. Nymin couldn’t tell what color his armband was under the rusty red stain, whether it was the purple of a spellcaster, the green of a scout, or some other specialization she didn’t know.
It made little difference if he had spells that could defend against her, or senses that would’ve detected her approach under ordinary circumstances. Here and now, he was just another obstacle, one which she needed silenced before he noticed her and sounded the alarm.
She had a little time, since the city guards were working with the same disadvantage they’d had during Nymin’s fight at the recycling plant. They had to capture Pikawon relatively unharmed.
Nymin had no such limitations. The only limitation she had was time.
Activating Obfuscation to hide herself in the shadows strained her overused mana channels, even with its low cost reduced further by her darkened surroundings.
Nymin moved slowly. First, she retreated around the corner to deposit the tracking stone so it wouldn’t encumber her. She dropped Obfuscation, then phased into the wall, relying on her spiritual senses to find the wounded guard.
The hunger in her core pointed her unerringly towards vulnerable, wounded prey. She didn’t dare use Banshee’s Wail, since it could alert the other guards, but there was a simpler way to speed up the mana draining process.
Nymin pressed two fingers through the wall and into the wounded guard’s back. He shifted a little, but didn’t pull away. That was good. He was too distracted or light headed from blood loss to understand what was happening.
She drained the tiniest stream of mana, not even enough to fully counter his mana regeneration. When he didn’t even stir, she slowly increased the pull.
He didn’t notice what was happening until his mana was nearly gone and he began to feel the symptoms of low mana, headache and mental exhaustion, and by that time, it was too late.
Nymin concentrated the drained mana in her free hand and readied her newest skill, one provided by Dyani.
* Crystallize Pure Mana (Exceptionally Rare)
* Type: Conjuration
* Affinity: Pure
* Range: Short
* Cost: Moderate Mana
* Effect: Condenses the user’s mana into pure affinity mana crystals.
So far, Nymin had only used the skill to store excess mana for a rainy day, but she had the mana control to use it in much more creative ways.
Before the guard could call out to his friends, she positioned her mana-charged hand over his face and activated the skill. Mana crystal filled his mouth, sealing it shut, and crawled up and over the rest of his face, covering his nose, ears, and eyes. He thrashed and grunted for a couple minutes before falling unconscious.
Even desperate and angry, Nymin wasn’t cold blooded enough to leave him to suffocate, so she drained the mana from the crystal around his nose until a small hole formed. She even conjured crystal around the wound he was no longer holding shut. It wasn’t the best bandage in the world, but it was the best she could do.
Mana crystal was relatively easy to break or dissolve into raw mana, but even when he woke, his mana would be so low that she doubted he would free himself before she and Pikawon had fled.
She turned her attention to the other two guards, Pikawon, and the dog, peaking out her obfuscated face through the wall.
The dog had one of Pikawon’s legs in its mouth. The beast must be stronger than it looked, because the leg barely budged, even as Pikawon fought to free it. Broken icicles littered the ground around him and both his arms were trapped in ice up to the shoulders and frozen to the ground, the work of the male guard, whose hands were still emanating frosty mist.
Nymin was grateful the guard hadn’t copied her and frozen the boy’s head.
Pikawon used his free leg to strike out at the female guard. His boots were shredded from the inside and his feet, which had claws as wicked as those on his hands, trailed the silver light of blade mana.
It did him little good. Dark gray mana coallessed over the woman’s arms, forming shoulder length gloves of solid stone. Pikawon managed to leave a couple scratches before his leg was caught and forced to the ground.
“Freeze him, Chitto.”
Chitto pointed to the immobilized leg. His hand glowed with ice-blue light as he prepared to freeze it in place.
Even if Pikawon was completely incapacitated, it would take time to transport him out of the sewers, or wait for reinforcements. She could use that time to weaken her opponents.
That was the sensible approach. But part of her was so tired of being sensible. Her crumbling self control, deep-seated hunger, and motherly, protective instincts joined forces in a raging storm in her belly, which pushed up her throat and out of her mouth in a screeching wail more powerful than anything she’d managed before.
Chitto tripped backward, falling into the shallow channel on the side of the corridor. His glowing hand sank into the sewage, Blue light flashed and froze a chunk of toxic sludge around it.
The dog dropped Pikawon’s leg to bite hers. To Nymin’s surprise, it actually made contact. She sensed a sheath of mana around its mouth, doing more to trap her than pierce her flesh.
She chose to ignore the dog and focus on the more immediate threat. Stone crumbled to the ground as the female guard, who seemed to be in charge, activated a new skill.
Harsh, white light burned its way up from her hands to cover her arms, bleaching the color from everything it touched. It was not a skill for peaceful capture. This was meant to kill, and Nymin instinctively knew that absorbing its mana would damage her nearly as much as taking a blow.
Nymin was still wailing, so she directed the attack at the female guard. The guard winced as blood trickled from her ears, but pushed against the spiritual pressure of the attack with her hands of shining death.
Pikawon demonstrated that he wasn’t out of the fight yet, by kicking the dog, leaving three parallel wounds in its side.
The dog yipped in pain, dropping Nymin’s leg and surprising both of the women. They moved simultaneously. The guard lunged forward, but Nymin was faster, sinking into the ground as she leaned backward, inches away from that deadly touch.
While Nymin usually kept her body upright, feet down and head up, that was just for everyday convenience. Since she was unaffected by gravity and most physical surfaces, she could just as easily fly around at another angle.
She took advantage of this by floating parallel to the ground, half sunk into its surface, while maintaining her ability to move freely. From her new perspective, the guard was the one lying down and reaching up to attack her.
While she could attack more freely if she instead completely submerged herself into the stone, Nymin was afraid of leaving Pikawon undefended.
Her new perspective put her in the perfect position to attack the wounded dog. While normally an animal lover, Nymin couldn’t afford to hesitate.
Magically conjured materials sometimes interacted unusually with her intangibility. Very occasionally, they acted as solid to her intangible body, depending on their exact nature and source. For example, Nymin had no problems touching the crystals conjured with her own mana.
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Inspired by Pikawon’s Sundering Claw, she called upon Crystallize Pure Mana to form sharp claws of her own, which remained in place around her fingers.
They pierced into the animal’s underbelly, but lacked the strength to do much damage before shattering like glass.
The fragile crystal proved more effective than something stronger. It left jagged shards embedded in the wound, which the hunting dog didn’t appreciate. It retreated and whimpered. It tried to scratch away the shards with its back leg, but yelped and stopped as it cut its own paw.
Nymin’s heart ached at the pitiful sight, but she couldn’t afford sympathy.
The ice caster was clambering out of the sewage, and had only been out of the fight his long because he was prioritizing freeing his hand from its icy prison. The fact that the task was taking this long meant he didn’t have a versatile manipulation skill like Water or Ice Manipulation, which was a stroke of good fortune, even if it left Nymin ignorant of his other abilities.
From what she could feel from each of the guard’s spirits, they were both level 4, which meant they had four skills each, ignoring the possible alteration from a talent. Nymin’s talent meant that, despite being level 4, she had five skills and an empty slot for one more. Dyani was even more unusual, with four skill slots at level 2.
But assuming neither was veiling their true level, had a talent that gave additional skills, or had empty skill slots, she was aware of half of each of their skills.
The ice caster had a skill to freeze and create ice, the same skill that had trapped his own hand and three of Pikawon’s limbs. And assuming the broken icicles slowly melting on the ground were his, he also had the common ranged skill, Icicle.
The team’s leader had revealed two skills as well, the white death sheathing her arms, and the protective earth gloves.
The dog’s abilities were a more complicated mystery. Beasts didn’t always have distinct skills like monsters or humans. They tended to have more flexible abilities centered around a certain theme. She just hoped it would remain occupied with its injuries so she wouldn’t have to deal with it, or hurt it any further.
With all this in mind, Nymin made a choice. She ignored the woman bearing down towards her and propelled herself over to the ice caster.
She was relying on a common complaint of her late husband. He was repeatedly frustrated by people who over specialized in a single affinity or skill type. The fact that many talents that granted mana affinities or enhance a specific type of skill were common only made overly focused sets of skills more appealing. It could afford someone great power in a specialized area, but often left them with weaknesses that a more well rounded set of skills would prevent.
Elemental casters were the most notorious for this mistake. Nymin hoped the distracted ice caster was one of these, as ice magic wasn’t going to be effective against her. If he had something more esoteric, like the hands of shining death she could still feel behind her, screaming like an order of execution, then the fight might be over in short order.
If the man had such a skill, he didn’t use it in time. Instead of draining him, which wouldn’t be fast enough, Nymin used the surprisingly versatile Crystallize Pure Mana to conjure a set of knuckles on her hand. She punched with all her strength, crying out as the crystal knuckles shattered against the man’s jaw, leaving wounds on both parties.
He fell backward and cracked his head against the stone wall, knocked out cold. The middle of his body rested in the sewage channel, with his ankles and feet poking out on one side, and his shoulders and head on the other.
Conjuration magic had many complicated rules, but one was simple. Nearly anything conjured required mana to sustain itself, mana that usually came from the caster. There were exceptions, like mana crystals or notes, but ordinary ice wasn’t one of them.
If the ambient mana was compatible, it could sometimes serve the purpose, but conjured ice required ice mana, and the ambient mana down here was a mix of Root Perch’s predominant nature mana with a touch of decay.
Just as she’d hoped, as soon as the ice caster was unconscious and unable to direct mana into it, the ice binding Pikawon to the ground sublimated into white vapor, which obscured the boy for a moment before dissipating into nothing. The gray-green ice around the guard’s hand remained, since it was actual, frozen matter.
Pikawon didn’t waste the opportunity to strike. Like a wraith in his own right, he navigated the cloud of white mist, darting around the female guard. She tried to fight back, but it was obvious that neither of her two, unrevealed skills enhanced her perception.
White mist was stained red as Pikawon slashed the tendons behind her knees. The guard collapsed with a grunt and the beast of a young man emerged from the fading fog.
“Miss Farlight,” he said with a respectful nod and a tired, sardonic smile, “I wasn’t expected to see you today.”
“I’m glad to see you alive.”
Without needing to discuss their next steps, Nymin and Pikawon fled the scene as fast as Pikawon’s chilled legs could carry him, pausing only for Nymin to scoop up the tracking stone, so no one could use it against them.
They ignored the curses and taunting of the only guard that was still conscious.
***
Lewis stretched out in Kuruk’s lap, exposing his feline belly for rubbing. The Tree Beast Lord knew better than to take the bait. He might be immune to the cat’s mind warping abilities, thanks to the oath between them, but his claws could still sting.
Lewis batted at Kuruk’s shirt to get his attention. Kuruk sighed and scratched the cat behind the ears before he really got annoyed and tore something. The cat pushed his head against Kuruk’s hand and purred, sending feelings of amusement and pleasure through their mental link, threaded through with the pride that was a universal constant of all cats, even ones without Lewis’s impressive abilities.
It was a warm moment of simple companionship, which Kuruk reveled in for longer than he really should before returning to the matter at hand.
He moved to the next entry in his list, a hunting falcon with wind magic assigned to one of his more talented scouts.
* Beast Tongue (Uncommon)
* Type: Communication
* Affinity: Beast
* Range: Long
* Cost: Very Low Mana
* Effect: Allows telepathic communication with willing animals and beasts. The range of this skill is increased based on familiarity with the target animal or beast.
Unlike the beasts linked to him through oaths and a couple exceptions with mind or sound magic of their own, the various beasts that assisted and accompanied the city’s guards couldn’t communicate with him until he reached out with Beast Tongue.
That left him with the task of contacting each of them in turn, to acquire updates of their hunt for Nymin, Dyani, and his true prize, Pikawon. It was tedious enough for him to consider commissioning interfaces for more than just the sergeants.
Most beasts had simple minds, so he used straightforward concepts in terms they could understand.
‘Found prey?’
The falcon sent feelings of dissatisfaction, both with the lack of prey, and the dark confines it was forced to navigate. Kuruk sent a bit of encouragement, then ended the connection so he could contact the next beast on his list.
He wished he could hunt down Pikawon personally, with his much more powerful and impressive beasts, but the chains that bound him were much more powerful than iron or steel.
Authority and position were powerful tools, but ones with strings attached.
How infuriating that the very individuals who had relegated him to this backwater collection of peasants without two skills to rub together were the very same ones that stopped him from acting openly.
Old Grove liked to pretend it was a nation of meritocracy and fairness, and came down hard on anyone overtly using their greater advancement against someone weaker. Nevermind that he could send hundreds of similarly leveled minions against a single opponent. That was perfectly acceptable, as long as he didn’t do anything so gauche as go himself.
His direct superior, Governor Lakota Leafwind, had sent increasingly displeased messages about the city resources he was expending for personal gain, but Kuruk hand a thousand excuses. When the time came, he would burn the city to the ground, as long the flames also consumed the barriers between him and true power.
Few people were advanced or knowledgeable enough to be familiar with the more abstract barriers to advancement. Each set of ten levels represented a tier of power with increasingly difficult requirements to enter.
The first was easy enough, touching on a significant source of magic was enough to break into the first tier of levels 1-9. For most people, that was accomplished by gaining a talent, but handling extremely powerful magic items, training with powerful cultivators, or meditating in high mana areas could work as well.
From there, breaking through each successive tier became exponentially more challenging. Most had the option of bypassing some of those requirements by binding themselves to spirits, but his fourth talent made that difficult.
1. You may form Oaths, including Tier Oaths, with appropriately powerful beasts. You may not form Oaths with spirits.
Kuruk had been exceptionally lucky to find a single beast capable of forming a tier oath to allow him to advance to level 10. He couldn’t rely on that happening again.
The solution was beneath his very feet, scampering around like a rabbit in its warren, while the weak, half trained force Kuruk was permitted to send after him stumbled around in the dark.
Most who knew of his desire for the boy assumed correctly that he wanted to breed a new species of beast men, but lacked the context to understand the reason. Even his own subordinates assumed he wanted some kind of army he could bolster with his skills.
Kuruk certainly wouldn’t say no to such a resource, but his true goal would be served simply by having such a large number of people using beast magic, spreading it further and further with each generation.
He was no fool, ignorant of history and the deeper principles of magic. Magic was no stagnant force, immutable to human interference. In the oldest records he knew, before the arrival of the so-called goddess, there were only five domains of magic: Fire, Water, Earth, Air, and Oath. Now there were eleven: adding Light, Force, Metal, Life, Mind, and Time.
Soon enough, if he had his way, Beast magic would shed the shackles of the Life domain and ascend to its rightful place as the twelfth, with him upon its throne.