Down in the undercity training room Orelio and I stand at attention before Albatos. Vanderburst watches from off to the side as per usual, even though we don't intend on continuing the one sided beatings any longer. We unanimously decided it would still be extremely beneficial to have a healer standing by, so here he is.

"So, Stein. You say you want to get stronger. What exactly do you mean by that?" Albatos leads the session with a question I'm completely unprepared for.

Hesitating a moment before responding I say, "I want to be able to beat people who can use domains, second tier and above sorcerers. How do I counter the effects of a domain?"

"You don't. Unless you instigate a clash of inner worlds with domains there is absolutely nothing you can do to mitigate or nullify an opponent's domain unless you can identify the exact projection being used and rapidly develop a perfect counter projection. Generally, attempting to mitigate a domain's effects will end in you being killed long before you ever get close to being ready to deploy a countermeasure. Also, many domains are ludicrously complex or unique in nature, which makes finding a counter impossible to begin with."

"Let's start by using my domain projection as an example. Amp multiplies the effects of all magic within its radius by three times. Quite honestly, it's shit as far as domain projections go. I'm a tactician, not a fighter, so I'm not nearly as proficient in real combat as anyone else in the troupe. Hell, a battlemage could easily counter my domain simply by using Anti-Magic Area, prohibiting me from even utilizing any magic to make use of the projection effect."

"On the other hand, Lleig's domain projection is decently nuanced and effective. You said he makes every individual within its range share the sensation of pain, correct? How would you go about countering that?"

"I would… make everyone impervious to pain, making the effects clash for supremacy."

"I see. And what would happen then?"

"Then the one with the more concrete concept emerges victorious… and mine is nullified."

Albatos walks up to me and pokes my forehead with his finger, "Even before things got that far you'd have died because you were so distracted with a futile effort that you left yourself open because you weren't focussed."

"So it's a waste of time to try to nullify someone's domain projection, I get it. So how do you beat them then?"

"Same ways as anybody else. Injure themselves badly enough so they die. Domains that offer actual protection to the caster are extremely rare, so in most cases it's simply a matter of discerning the complexities of the projection and acting in accordance with them. In some cases, you can even use them to your advantage."

Stepping away, he raises a hand with three fingers held aloft, "There are three ways that I find to be best when dealing with domain users. The first is to have a domain yourself. While having two separate domain effects down simultaneously doesn't inherently change the fact that you're at the mercy of an unfamiliar projection, it does put the enemy in a similarly disadvantageous position, hypothetically putting you back on even ground.

"The second method is to simply use brute strength or skill. For example, Llieg's projection could be entirely subverted if you simply killed him in a single attack. Either decapitating him or piercing his heart wouldn't give his projection a chance to stack debilitating effects on anyone else.

"The third method follows the theory of the second, but doesn't require excessive martial strength or skill. In fact, it's exceedingly simple. You simply shoot them with a gun."

Me and Orelio stare at Albatos in blank silence.

"It may seem like a stupidly obvious solution, but you'd be fools to underestimate the power of firearms, especially if the domain user incorporates the Anti-Magic effect into their domain."

Though it is a stupidly obvious solution, it does make a good deal of sense. In my fight with Lleig, after he activated his domain I found myself completely overwhelmed by pain. While I'm sure that maniac has subjected himself to more pain than is imaginable, an average person simply doesn't have the tolerance to bear that burden and function normally. Even if I hadn't lost my will to fight, the likelihood of me having been able to launch an effective attack is laughable.

On the other hand, with a firearm in hand, I wouldn't have had to think about speed or body motions, I could have simply aimed and shot from a position of weakness.

But still… I'm a little reluctant to rely on firearms again. They're a reminder of dark times, and I don't like the fact that these flintlocks are one-shot wonders, with their excessively long reload times.

"No way, that's lame," Orelio protests, folding his arms in staunch defiance.

"Yeah, I figured you'd say that. What about you, Stein?"

"Maybe. I don't dislike the idea of having a backup, but… I don't know."

"Huh, didn't take you to be a purist."

"A purist?"

"Someone who believes that guns are an offense to the art of fighting. There are essentially three groups of thought on the matter. There are the purists, the neutrals, and the powderheads, who believe firearms are the way of the future. I should note that most powderheads aren't even fighters, they just spend their days doing crackpot experiments. If you decide you're interested let me know, I think they've got an outpost somewhere in town that we could visit to set you up with a decent quality gun."

"Alright, I'll keep it in mind. Until then I think I'd like to learn how to use a domain."

Albatos nods, "I figured you would. Everybody does, thinking it'll be easy or that they can just power through it. You can't."

Orelio scoffs, "It can't be that bad."

"Oh, we'll see about that. I can't promise you'll be able to even raise the domain, much less apply a projection on it, before we leave here in two months' time."

"One month," I interject.

"What?" Albatos narrows his eyes at me, "And what exactly is supposed to be in one month, might I ask?"

"Isao's performance. I said I'd go see it and I intend to."

"Foolish boy, have you already forgotten what happened last time you went on an idiotic excursion? You can't seriously believe I'd let you go."

"Not by myself, no. I never had any intention of sneaking off again. If all of us go as a group then there won't be a problem, will there? Lleig was stronger than me, but I seriously doubt he'd be stupid enough to take us on all at once. Especially if we get Andora to throw in a few guards with us."

Albatos eyes me, thinking, "I'll consider it. For now, we'll focus on training. Alongside practicing to use domains I'm going to train you to be able to use reinforcement nonstop."

Orelio flinches away, and I grimace. Leaving reinforcement going for too long starts to produce a mental strain on the user, and builds fatigue on whatever it is that's being reinforced, even if it isn't actively doing anything. I could be sitting, but if I'm reinforcing my legs they'll continuously get tired and sore.

Albatos gives a devilish smile, "Oh, it'll be such fun."

***

Domain training isn't as grueling as it is frustrating.

It's been about a week and a half since we started and I've made barely any headway. The first step is to understand the 'sensation of the soul' as Albatos calls it. It's a fancy way of saying you can recognize and discern the shape of your own soul, so as to manipulate it.

Orelio, the talented bastard, got it down several days ago. He still hasn't managed to expand a domain, but the fact he got past the first step with such ease is frustrating, to say the least.

Concentrate. It's literally a mass of mana, there's no way I shouldn't be able to sense it.

I can't help but feel this sensation of dread as I continue to flounder.

But can I even manipulate it? Technically speaking, my soul is foreign to this world, so can I even apply the normal rules to it? No, wait. Bymos said my potential as a sorcerer surpassed most, didn't he? Then that should mean it's not only possible, but should be easier for me to grasp than others, shouldn't it? Gah, this is so frustrating.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself I once again try to focus. Searching for the sensation of the soul hasn't worked at all for me like it has for Albatos and Orelio, so it's time to try a different method.

I funnel my mana toward my head, aiming to reinforce my senses to better perceive mana. I'm certain if I follow the logic of mana = soul then I should have some kind of breakthrough, but it's going to mean experimentation in ways I've not tried before. Reinforcing one's eyes to see mana is common, but you can't exactly look inward to look at the soul, so the eyes don't help me here.

I funnel my mana into my brain, trying to reinforce a vague sensation of spirituality. The concept barely takes hold and I struggle to maintain it, but I immediately notice a difference. Shutting my eyes and focussing on the atmosphere around me lets me perceive mana ambiently flowing through the atmosphere around me.

I focus on that sensation of being one with the mana around me and further strengthen my reinforcement with that solidified concept, and the mana starts to become clearer. I look out over the endless expanse of mana around my center of existence and marvel at it. The most similar feeling would be to throw yourself into space and gaze at the infinite stars in all directions, except the mana is far denser, and closer, than the stars would ever be.

As I examine the world through this new lens I can't help but notice a few patterns. First is the occasional speck of mana with a slightly red tint.

Oh yeah, Albatos mentioned these when we entered the city, didn't he? I guess that means my perception of mana is approaching his level.

Shifting my perspective inward, I'm immediately able to discern… something. Albatos described the soul as a solid mass, but mine is a bit different than that. Certainly, the center is solid, incredibly so even, but it's as though it's leaking mana into the space around it, creating something similar to an asteroid field around a planet.

Okay, now that I've identified it, how am I supposed to manipulate it?

I start by casting the projection I used in the fight with Lleig. Albatos has always maintained that projections are applied to the soul, though I never really understood what he meant. Now I certainly do, as I can see even the mana that constitutes the projection settle over the shape of my soul.

In this way of viewing reality, it's easier to understand how projections can result in a net zero loss or gain of mana too. While the projection does consume a trickle of mana, it's as though the surrounding mana quickly rushes in to replace what's expended, creating a cycle of harmony.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Interestingly, the projection ignores the asteroid field of loose floating mana and applies itself only to the core within.

Coming out of my serene state, I'm forced to bear witness to what looks like a catfight between Albatos and Orelio. This has become an annoyingly common sight over the past few days, of Orelio trying to use magic in some stupid goofy way and Albatos popping his lid off while trying to reprimand the beastkin.

I shake my head and return to my training. I don't know what they're on about this time, but it can't be any worse than the time Orelio tried to get his soul to exist outside his body.

Now that I understand the shape of the soul, I once again try to find the sensation of it. I apply my projection again, focusing on specifically what it's applying itself to. At first, I only get a vague sensation of something being there, but it still feels so similar to reinforcement that I struggle to accept that it's working properly.

I try it a few more times, repeatedly applying and undoing the projection, until I start to gain a better sense of what I'm really doing. Slowly but surely, the sensation of the soul forms in my mind, bringing with it an alien sense of rightness. The better I understand the shape of the soul the more I feel as though it belongs, it's some base rule of the world that I was simply blind to before.

Once I feel like I have a solid grasp of the soul, I shift my attention to what's around it. Now that I can distinctly feel the soul, I also feel the fragments of will that surround it. They're much more than loose floating mana, I can instinctively feel that they have some fragments of will in them.

Wait… Could this be the remnants of Arnstein's soul? Bymos said it was fractured before he shoved me into his body, but I hadn't realized that the remnants stuck around.

Part of me wonders if there's anything I can do to stitch those fragments back together, but I know it'd likely be a futile effort. From Albatos' various lectures over the past week I've learned that while it's possible to manipulate your own soul, in general it's not fundamentally possible to interact with another. Some of the races born of mana were special cases, and had finer control over such things.

Even if I did manage to stitch it back into a whole, I'm not sure what would happen then. It's not like I have a spare body lying around for it to inhabit, so would our souls have to vie for control? It's not exactly a pleasant train of thought to explore.

Speaking of foreign wills, there's something else I can vaguely sense with my newly found soul perception. I didn't sense it when using my manavision, so it can't be a soul. The more I focus on it the more I feel like I'm staring into a bright light, blinded by something vast and unthinkable.

Idly, I expand my sense and try to contact it. The instant my consciousness connects to it, it's as though my head explodes. I'm immediately overwhelmed by something and hastily disconnect from it while screaming in pain.

I fall to the ground, heavily panting and gasping for air as a headache deeper than a mana-deprivation migraine settles in.

Albatos comes running over, drawn by my scream. I vaguely hear him try to ask what's wrong, but I can't fully understand him. With dimming vision and a feeling like my skull's been split, I lose consciousness.

***

I awake in the same sick bed I woke up in before. Looking out the window reveals the light of either the breaking dawn or setting sun, it's impossible to truly know when the horizon is so completely obscured.

I put my hand to my head, still feeling a bit wobbly, like the feeling of a minor hangover. The feeling dissipates after a few minutes after I help myself to a glass of water at the bedside.

Leaving the room, I find that this time there's nobody standing outside on watch, which is a nice change. I've felt like somebody's been looking at me, either Albatos or some unknown party, every which way I turn over the past week and a half.

I make my way back to my own room, and find Orelio sleeping soundly in his bed.

Morning then. Orelio never goes to sleep before the sun sets, but he always sleeps in far as long as he can manage. Always.

Resisting the urge of trickery, I shake him awake. At first, he mumbles in his sleep, then groans as I continue shaking him.

"Did you want to meet the floor first thing in the morning?" I gently whisper in his ear.

His eyes snap open, then he winces at the light and looks around groggily, "What? I feel like I just heard something terrible."

"Must have imagined it. What day is it?"

"I dunno. Lost track of the day ever since we started this awful training. You were only out overnight if that's what you mean."

I hear the door open, followed by, "Oh good, I don't even have to come check on you."

I turn to see Albatos stroll into the room, presumably about to wake Orelio up himself so they could get started. "Yeah, I'm feeling fine. I'm not really sure what that was yesterday."

He leans against the wall by the door and folds his arms, "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

I explain how I finally managed to grasp the sensation of the soul, and what I experienced afterward. I don't mention the floating fragments of Arnstein's will, as I still don't feel confident about letting my origin out.

"Hmm… That's strange," Albatos says, stroking his whiskers, "I've never heard of something like that before. I've certainly never experienced something like that. Still, viewing mana to isolate and define the shape of the soul, huh? That's a pretty good way to do it. I wonder… could that foreign will perhaps be the blessing?"

"I don't know, but if it is I have no clue how I'd go about using it. I'm not trying that again, no matter how much you try to convince me. I'd rather go back to getting beaten three ways from Sunday than have to touch that thing again."

Albatos closes his eyes and continues stroking his chin hairs for a few moments before saying, "Alright, we'll go with that then. Frankly, something like that is too far into uncharted territory. Messing with souls in ways they aren't supposed to be is a surefire way to get yourself killed, so while it's unfortunate we'll be putting the blessing on the backburner, I don't think there's any way we could proceed without major risk."

I breathe a sigh of relief. I honestly expected him to try to force me into repeating that awful process over and over again.

"Now, have you given thought to my previous suggestion, Stein? If you're willing, today seems like a good day to take a break."

"You mean about using a firearm? Yeah, I think I have decided. Let's do it. I think it's probably better to prepare for the worst and have every available option than to stumble upon a situation brute strength alone can't resolve."

"Good choice," He says with a nod, "Get ready, we'll leave as soon as everyone is ready. You're coming too, beastboy."

Orelio gives a cry of despair, "Don't wanna! Guns are stupid!"

"Oh shut it! You're coming for security, not equipment, so relax! I swear…"

Close to an hour goes by as Albatos recruits the trio of dwarves to join in the expedition as additional security. Personally, I can't help but feel like the bigger group is only going to draw more attention and make a bigger risk, but I'm not in a position to complain after my previous stint in the city ended in such spectacular failure.

Finally, we head out. "So where exactly is this place?" I ask.

"It's actually outside the city, from what I've heard. Evidently, they ran into conflicts with the authorities about two decades ago and were forced to relocate," Albatos answers.

"What kind of problems?"

"From what I've heard, this group of powderheads is even more eccentric than the average."

"So they're weirdos normally, and this group is supposed to be even more off the wall?"

"I suppose that is a rather brash way of putting it, yes."

"So does everyone go to them for firearms? I figured nations would make their own to supply their forces, and whatever fell into secondary hands were either secondhand or surplus."

"That does happen as well, but if you want quality there's really no alternative than to go to the enthusiasts. Mass produced firearms are shoddy at the best of times, and aren't even favored in high society, so they're not even well used by many armies led by nobility."

I suppose that makes sense, neither Gen or Irving's forces ever made use of tactics like firing line, which would have boosted their effectiveness.

I can't help but feel a bit embarrassed as our group makes our way through the twisting streets and up the staircases to ascend the levels to the outer edge of the city. In contrast to the average citizen, we're all armed to the teeth with our equipment. Annora's armor is especially drawing, and in particular is the subject of many a blacksmith's gaze.

It is easy to see the shift in atmosphere that's taken place over the past two weeks though. There's this still sense of tension in the air, like everyone around is wound up, constantly on edge. Looking closer I can even see several ordinary citizens concealing daggers under their cloaks or belts.

Eventually we arrive at the outer gate. Without exiting, we ride along a small tram set up along the outer wall. Annoyingly, the small gateway to the powderhead's base of operations isn't connected to any major road, so we have to hop off the tram while it's in motion, since there's no stop close by.

"Alright you two, how many?" Albatos had decided before we left to make a game of the trip, a little field exercise in training. The goal was to stay alert and identify as many magical signatures as we could during the short trip.

"Uh, I got four," Orelio says, uncertainty evident in his voice.

"Nine," I say.

"There were eleven total that I saw. How on earth did you only get four?" Albatos asks, frowning at Orelio.

"I got distracted by all the food we passed by, it's not my fault," Orelio grumbles.

Heh, guess my magic perception still has some way to go before I match him after all.

Looking forward, we stand before a ramshackle building propped against the outer wall. The place looks like it was thrown together out of scrap metal and duct tape, and I'm surprised it's even standing.

Albatos and I leave the dwarven trio and Orelio outside and head in. Inside the main entrance is a decrepit reception area with a desk that looks like it was pulled out of some rich noble's dumpster. Notably, nobody is bothering to man the desk.

"Maybe they're closed..?" I guess hopefully.

"Nah, I heard it would be like this. Come on," Albatos says, leading the way deeper into the squalid structure.

We gradually explore the place further, finding that the entranceway is simply a front for a hole dug straight through the outer wall. Walking through the seemingly hastily mined away stone wall, we find ourselves in an archaic workshop. Over a table, a dwarf and an elf are fiddling with something.

"Hey, you got customers," Albatos calls out.

Both jump at the unfamiliar voice, and the distraction causes them to fumble their work. "Ah, shit!" The elf exclaims, "You dumbass, you moved!" His voice is directed at his partner, not Albatos.

"So did you! Look how shitty this weld is now!"

"Agh, we'll just have to try again later, damn it," The frayed hair, burnt ends of his ears, and disposition to swearing like a sailor paint the elf as a stark contrast to what I've come to expect from them.

The dwarf, who looks much the same, although most of the workmen dwarves all look similar, throws his tools down onto the table and turns to us, "So who do we have the pleasure of welcoming today? You know there's a bell on the front desk, right?"

"No there wasn't," I say, thinking back.

"You're sweating the small details."

"We're in the market for a gun," Albatos says, cutting to the chase.

"Ah, who isn't? And here I hoped we might have some new initiates. Small or big? We're busy, so let's make this fast."

Albatos looks at me, letting my preference decide, "Do you have anything medium size?" I ask sheepishly. A flintlock seems a bit small and a musket seems overly cumbersome for average use.

"Oh, yeah. I suppose we could take a hacksaw to one of the muskets, but we won't cause only a loon would damage such a work of art," the elf says.

"Something small then," I say, irritation starting to eat at me.

The elf goes over to a chest and digs through it for a solid minute, throwing random items aside in his quest to uncover something long since buried. He pulls out a flintlock that looks like it was pulled straight out of a pirate movie. Brushing it off, the elf brings it over.

"Here. It's not a toy, so don't point it at anybody, even if it's empty."

"You only have muzzleloaders, huh?" I say with an air of dejection.

"Oh? You seen somebody with something better? We don't really go in for that whole breechloading craze going on in the west. Waste of time if you ask me, can't rely on some silly hinge to withstand true power. Now, you want standard loads or special?"

"Special?" I ask, curious.

"Don't entertain these quacks, Stein," Albatos says, "From what I've heard they're true powder maniacs, cooking up all manner of toxic crap."

"Hey! Don't underestimate the power of science!" The elf shoots back, "We still haven't found the ultimate form of gunpowder, mark my words. Some day, we'll have something so much more powerful, magic'll seem like child's play in comparison. Science will win in the end!"

"Uh huh, sure it will. We'll take standard loads, please." I quickly nod along with Albatos' words, not wanting to let the powder maniac get any ideas.

The elf sighs, "Nobody in this town has any appreciation for true art. Fine, come along, let's finish payment and whatnot up front."

The elf grabs a case of standard flintlock loads and we proceed to the front where Albatos quickly finishes paying.

"I highly recommend practicing with that thing to make sure you can use it right. We've got a range out back you can use for a little fee, so feel free to come by any time." The elf sees us off with a wave.

As we step back out onto the street, Albatos asks, "How'd you know about more advanced guns? I don't think I've seen any since we left Hornhaven."

"Well, I just figured there's gotta be something better than muzzleloaders. I mean seriously, I'm amazed people haven't invested more time into figuring out better ways to do it. Anything is better than muzzleloading."