After we got back above ground, thankfully avoiding any further molestation from ‘affectionate’ Knockers, Sǣþrȳð sat me down in the shack that doubled as her family home and took me through the history of the village.
It turned out one of her ancestors had literally stumbled into the tunnel entrance while hunting. After picking themselves up and dusting themselves down, they, in the wholly reckless manner of humans everywhere, decided to go for a stroll down the foreboding hole in the ground into which they had fallen.
After a few hours of pointless wandering, they were very lost and very hungry. Finding an appropriately inviting rock, they sat themselves down and unpacked some food. When they were subsequently set upon by a host of small, chittering creatures, they showed quite the sang froid in realising that it was their pie, rather than their lives, the monsters were after.
And, in that first moment of lunchbox sharing, humans and Knockers established a bond that ran right through until this very day.
“At least,” snarked Sǣþrȳð, “until some unstoppable moron threw them around their cave when they were just excited to say hello.”
I felt our recollections of the meeting below ground somewhat varied.
Going back to her story, she explained how, very quickly, her intrepid ancestors had realised that, in the process of their mining - an activity they carried out with an obsession only usually seen in unmarried women of a certain age and their collection of cats - the Knockers were creating giant waste heaps of incredibly valuable mana stones.
So, several bake sales later, the people of the village were in a position to establish a way of gaining regular access to one of the rarer materials in the world. They built a forge on top of the tunnel entrance, magnanimously offered to keep the tunnel clear of all those pesky shiny stones, and Robert was your mother’s brother.
Scroll forward several generations, and all of the families in the village were sitting on a veritable mountain of precious materials, which helped make a bit more sense as to why they weren’t so keen to take to the hills when the Saxons arrived.
“But, and I mean this with love, if mana stones are as valuable as you say ..”
They are.
“They absolutely are,” Sǣþrȳð added.
Wulfnoð’s memories nodded enthusiastically.
“Okay. So, they’re valuable. Got it. Then why are you living in a place that would make Victorian slumlords wince? Shouldn’t you be Beverly Hillbillying it up in downtown St Ives?”
I felt Drynwyn turn in its scabbard to face Sǣþrȳð. I’m sorry. I had the chance to let this fuckwit die, and I didn’t take it. I blame myself.
If she was somewhat startled to be directly addressed by a magical sword, Sǣþrȳð didn’t show it. “You can’t sell mana stones. Well, you can try, but it rarely works out well. Things got quite desperate a while back, and my grandfather took one to the city to try to sell. He was robbed and killed before he could so much as introduce himself.”
“So, if you can’t safety sell them, what makes them valuable?”
For fuck’s sake. You’re embarrassing me in front of the pretty lady.
“Do you truly not know?” Sǣþrȳð was looking at me in that faintly horrified way we all have when we need to explain to elderly relatives why they probably shouldn’t use that word about their Asian neighbours.
“Explain it to me like an idiot.”
I wonder how on earth she will make that stunning, imaginative leap.
*
So, I’m going to paraphrase here.
Mostly because I didn’t really understand much of what was said, but I was damned if I was going to give Drynwyn an opportunity to take the piss anymore by asking questions. But also because I feel we know each other quite well at this stage, and you don’t info dump on friends.
Here goes: mana stones are the Mega Mushrooms of cultivation.
There, how hard was that?
Okay, so it’s a bit more complicated ...
First up, these things are great in rings and necklaces. Like a battery, you can fill them full of your Qi and draw down on them when needed. Drynwyn had smashed one like this in the dragon’s hoard. Having experienced the sinking sensation of going cold Qi-turkey, I could see the benefit of having a bunch of quick recharge packs hanging around. Especially if they’re refillable.
Secondly, if I used one of these when cycling my Qi, it turned out it would make the whole thing much more efficient. I didn’t think I had been doing it long enough to understand the undoubted benefits here. From what Merlin had said, I knew that – if you ignored the cave training to reach Ron - I had been moving through things an awful lot quicker than other cultivators. So I could see if I’d been doing it for years, and progress was slow, I’d be grasping at anything that sped things up a little.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Thirdly, and I guessed this was the one that would have the most significant impact on me right now, cultivators could completely absorb these things, and it would give a permanent boost to Qi levels. I’d already felt the colossal impact on my available paint from inhaling the dragon’s essence, so I could see the attraction of something like this. Mainly as it wouldn’t involve battling with terrifying spirit beasts.
Looking at my inventory, I could see that I had looted a whole host of scrolls from the dragon’s hoard that seemed to describe the techniques for absorbing mana stones. These would be worth my time looking through, apparently.
Or, you know, not. You doing a fucking bang-up job figuring it all out on your own. Who needs the distilled wisdom of ages, eh?
Finally, and this is why Sǣþrȳð’s family had been so keen to settle on top of the mine, and why people would literally kill to get their hands on them, they could also be used by ‘normal’ people to improve their various attributes passively.
When in close proximity to a mana stone, such as if you happened to be hiding hundreds of them under your ramshackle floorboards, people who were not cultivators would experience heightened senses and awareness. This would aid them in their daily lives and endeavours, even improving their health and longevity if they spent long enough around them. They didn’t gain any of the abilities that came with cultivation, but it was, basically, like having access to some superhuman fertiliser.
I told you I wasn’t listening that carefully.
“Beocca’s almost doubled in size since he came to live with me.”
I waggled my eyebrows. “In both the places you can see and the ones you can’t, right?”
“Are you sure you’re a cultivator? You’re nothing like I’d imagined one would be.”
“In a good way?”
Sǣþrȳð’s expression suggested she did not mean in a good way.
“We will, of course, want to reward you for protecting us from the Saxons. Each family will donate from their private store of stones. You can either absorb them, or Beocca will happily set them in whatever form suits you.”
Kill them all and take the lot.
“You realise you are speaking aloud, right?”
So? What’s she fucking going to do about it? Trust me, if there’s anywhere close to the amount of mana stones around here that she’s implying, it will be worth it. I tell you what, if you’re feeling squeamish, I’ll do it for you.
Drynwyn started to slide out of its scabbard, and I pushed it firmly back. “No. That’s not how this is going to go.” I turned to Sǣþrȳð, whose eyes were wide. “Ignore it.”
“Ignore the talking, magical sword that’s expressed a desire to kill us all? Sure. No problem. I have no follow-up questions or comments whatsoever.”
*
After Drynwyn tried to slip out of its scabbard for the third or fourth time, I’d been forced to stick it in my inventory. This wasn’t an ideal situation, as I could still hear it ranting, but at least I wasn’t constantly on edge that there’d be genocide committed if I wasn’t constantly on watch.
At the same time, I’d taken out any scrolls that were obviously about mana stones from my soul space and started working my way through them.
I very quickly encountered a problem which I’m going to describe as ‘being thick as mince.’ These were all written for someone who understood what cultivating was about and I . . . well, I had renamed my tier progression in honour of a series of books where I remained baffled a character called Luna Lovegood had not, at any stage, tried to blow a member of the faculty.
Essentially, I’m not sure I was the target audience for this.
In order to absorb a mana stone, you needed to use a whole bunch of techniques that the scroll’s authors obviously expected the reader to understand. For someone like me, who’d cheat-coded their progress thus far, I was clearly missing lots of essential pieces of information. Like when someone at level 80 boosted you through a dungeon and, when you returned to do it yourself, you realised your level 10 Holy Smite wasn’t quite the wrecking ball you’d thought it was.
Still, I hadn’t made it this far successfully through life by recognising my limitations and failing to dive, unheedingly, straight into things.
Weren’t you dead when Merlin found you?
So, I’d piled up my gifted mana stones - I couldn’t help but feel the villagers had been slightly more generous than they needed to be after word of my sword’s Thanos-like impulses got out - and prepared myself to absorb them.
As far as I could tell, I should be able to draw the coalesced Qi out of them in much the same way as I did with the wolf and the dragon. There were a bunch of health warnings around taking on too much at once, but, hey, I swallowed the Qi of a dragon. How much more could there be in one little stone?
I put my vision into ‘Magic Eye’ mode and inhaled deeply, seeking to draw in the Qi from the stones. Immediately, I felt a connection being made between my artist’s studio and all of the shiny rocks in front of me. I extended my hands, and a luminous aura enveloped the stone on the top of the pile, creating a bridge between us from which the energies to flow.
So far, so good.
Then, using what the scrolls called the Qi Infusion Method - which I assumed meant ‘suck the fucker in’ - I tried to guide the influx of energies into my body. The first of the mana stones hummed in response, the heat of its power quite unlike anything I had experienced before.
As the first tendrils of its energy trickled into my channels, I realised I’d fucked up.
Like, replying-to-your-mate-highlighting-at-length-what-a-colossal-wanker-your-boss-is-and-ccing-in-the-whole-company, ‘fucked up’. If you’d also critiqued his technique in the sack and ccd in his wife. And his kid’s primary school teacher. With some home-made video.
That sort of ‘fucked up.’
The mana within just one of these stones was boundless; its purity and intensity overwhelmed my senses to the extent that, despite knowing what a disaster I was courting, I couldn’t make rational choices anymore.
I clenched my teeth so hard I felt them crack, and sweat poured from me. My body quivered under the sudden onslaught of power I couldn’t control, and my channels felt like they were once again being stretched and torn beyond their limits.
I thought it would be difficult to find you again, my dear. After all, you could have travelled anywhere since my, well, since my banishment. Imagine my delight, and no little consternation, therefore when I returned to see a giant throbbing column of Qi towering into the sky, no little distance from where I’d last seen you.
Pieces of shattered teeth were shook from my mouth as I tried to speak. The shaking became so profound I felt bones splinter, shards of white piercing out from skin.
Who could that be so recklessly channelling powers far in advance of their levels and capabilities, I thought to myself? Why, what are the chances it might be my apprentice who was last seen absorbing a dragon’s Qi?
“Can’t - talk - being - ripped - apart.”
Yes, I imagine you are. Would you like me to help?
I couldn’t answer. I wasn’t sure there was much ‘me’ left to speak.
Because I helped before, and you were quite the bitch about it ...
I felt each and every one of my atoms start to split.
Fine. You can have this one on me, and then we can have a little talk about respect, cultivation and agreeing to fulfil our destiny.
Looking forward to it, Big M.
And I lost consciousness.