BlueShear
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Chap. 12
🕑 Added 2025-01-06 18:07:01 +0000 UTCCHAPTER TWELVE
Of course the first thing he tried was to use this infinite font of mana to fix his abysmal talent.
It didn’t work.
Whether this was because the creator of this workshop had anticipated someone would try this, or the mana in this temporal bubble was merely incompatible, he didn’t know. A shame, though he hadn’t honestly expected it to work. It was just too tantalizing of an opportunity not to at least attempt. With that shot in the dark out of the way however, he next moved onto the big question of the day.
More specifically, what could he currently create with his single balcony’s worth of information that would be capable of decimating an infinite horde of monsters? Well, he already had a few ideas.
Richard bobbed his way over to one of the workbenches, still getting used to his newfound mobility. Using more phantom limbs, he rearranged the workspace so that only the tools and materials he was personally familiar with remained. Picking up a single piece of paper with his mind, he began to twirl it lazily through the air—being sure not to allow a single bend or crease to mark its pristine surface—as he thought. Simultaneously, another pair of invisible hands reached for an elegant square set of mortar and pestle.
With a splash of water from a nearby bowl, he began the meditative process of grinding fresh ink.
Mentally sifting through everything he currently had access to in his soul palace, he came to a somewhat depressing realization. Given this glorious crafter’s paradise he had to play with, with its top shelf materials and nigh unlimited mana supply, the fact that he couldn’t pull out all the stops was like a physical blow to his soul as a crafter. That said, it wasn’t all hopeless. The way he saw it, there were three main avenues he could reasonably explore.
[Runic Talismans] [Paper Constructs] and [One-time Use Ability Scrolls].
Each came with their own benefits, as well as downsides.
The first, runic talismans, would likely be easiest to churn out in mass. Though with that route, came a stark decrease in, not only versatility, but in potency as well. Simply put, he didn’t have access to any of his truly powerful runes. And, given the fact runes were, generally, fairly linear in design, made to serve a very singular purpose that could not easily be derailed or controlled, the potency of a rune was often its sole redeeming factor.
After all, if its only function is to hit something and then blow up, you’d better hope the explosion was actually capable of doing damage, otherwise you were going to be in for a very rough time.
In so far as he could tell, he currently had access to ten runes in total, all of them of the lesser variety. Which, to make a long story short, meant they each packed less of a punch than their [Normal] or [Greater] counterparts.
•-|—CURRENT RUNE LIBRARY—|-•
[Lesser Acceleration] • [Lesser Impetus] • [Lesser Detonation] • [Lesser Scorch] • [Lesser Force] • [Lesser Shock] • [Lesser Harden] • [Lesser Bind] • [Lesser Sharpen] • [Lesser Frost]
In addition, it was also possible for especially talented runic experts to sequence runes in such a way that their versatility was greatly improved. Essentially, this was what he’d done with the mana darts in the clearing. Expertly manipulating the sequence in which his mana filled each rune—like water flowing down a hill. Or more accurately, mana flowing into a complex system of drainage channels. So that the Lesser Impetus rune led into the Lesser Acceleration rune, giving it that much needed push, at which point mana would flow into the Lesser Detonation rune.
Preferably after the needle had lodged itself where it was intended to go.
Without that very deliberate series of steps, his head would have exploded the moment his mana filled the detonation rune. It was what made runes so dangerous to work with as a novice, and so unwieldy to wrestle with as an expert. So many additional steps just to make up for its lack of versatility.
Then there were Paper Constructs, a personal favorite of his. In effect, they served many of the same functions as Runic Talismans, though where talismans could not be altered once they were set in motion—their activation like the lighting of a fuse or tipping of a line of dominos—paper constructs could be manipulated on the fly. The Mental Link Formation, integral to their design, allowing for the remote activation or deactivation of specific runes in specific orders, depending on what the artificer required at any given time.
That, in addition to the fact that, unlike talismans, paper constructs were not destroyed after a single activation, and it goes without saying how many options for versatility this approach offers in the heat of battle.
There were even methods to make one’s paper constructs move independently of the architect, if not through true sentience, then through mental commands. But again, that particular high level technique and the formations therein were currently inaccessible to him. The best he’d be able to manage a cyclical pattern, in which he alternated between the activation and deactivation of the Impetus and Acceleration runes, to create an awkward facsimile of autonomous movement.
The constraints he was under were truly maddening.
And finally, the most flashy and inaccessible of the bunch, not to mention the most time consuming: the One-time Use Ability Scrolls. In effect, it was exactly what it sounded like. An ability, boiled down to a complex formation, and inscribed onto a piece of paper with a truly abhorrent amount of mana. With the mana expenditure covered, however, all that he was left with was the issue of the formations themselves.
He’d made sure to store all manner of powerful formations into his soul palace from a variety of different avenues—whether that be bought on auction, bartered through trade, or stenciled off the not-yet corpses of his fallen enemies. [BS1] The overabundance of abilities he’d amassed over the years likely enough to make even an S Grade Arch Magister Class, a class known for its unfair number of powerful abilities, positively green with envy. The only issue? He hadn’t anticipated his current predicament in all its inconveniences, and so only had access to three.
And they weren’t even particularly good abilities.
Oil Slick • Lvl 1 • [Common], Earthen Excavation • Lvl 1 • [Common], and Aquatic Lance • Lvl 1 • [Uncommon] respectively.
Their low levels an unfortunate consequence of storing ability formations in this manner. Since ability levels were nothing more than a numerical indication of the users mastery of said ability, by taking the user out of the equation, well, the end result was rather obvious. All in all, it wasn’t much to work with, but he’d done more with worse. He’d just have to be a little imaginative, hope for a choice bit of serendipity along the way, and prepare prepare prepare.
Now, with at least a rough plan in mind, all that was left for him to do was roll up his sleeves, and get to work. Richard ceased twirling the piece of paper. Setting it down gently onto the polished wood table, even as he set the stained pestle aside. With a thought, he raised a medium sized brush from one of the stands, and, dipping its tip in the fresh ink, brought it to the pristine piece of parchment. After a moment’s contemplation, he began to write.
Time Remaining: 239 hours 53 minutes and 49 seconds.
He had a feeling it was going to be a very busy ten days.
+++
Septimus Preach was merely minding his own business, relaxing in his quarters—dominating a game of solitaire, as he was like to do on Sunday afternoons—when an alert pinged on his interface.
DING!
Trial taker #002 has completed the preparation phase of the initiation trial. Now commencing with the practical phase. We would ask that you please make your way over to the administrative observation suite to officiate this trial.
Septimus tsk’ed.
That kid was still around? He’d nearly forgotten about the brat, and yet here he still was, just as intent on irking him as ever. Should he just ignore the alert? But then, what would the master think?! Septimus looked forlornly at his unfinished game of solitaire. With a heavy sigh, he gathered up the cards, careful not to damage the merchandise—seeing as they were the genuine article, and likely the only ones of their kind he’d see for the foreseeable eternity—slid on his fluffy pink bunny slippers, then shuffled his way out the door and towards the observation suite.
More an observation booth than a suite, really, but he digressed.
As he walked, he thought about the trial ahead. A mass extinction event plucked from the rivers of time and customized to suit the Shaper’s grand designs. Truly his master was a genius among geniuses. A jack of all trades, master of all. Nothing like this cheeky upstart, who, he was rather confident, wouldn’t even last a minute into the first wave.
+++
Guard Captain Casandra Knightly wrung her hands nervously. Trying to be inconspicuous, she flicked her gaze from the grand summoning circle, in all its arcane scribblings, to Princess Caerinth, her flowing white gown the same color as her enviably long hair, to Arch Magister Tenthain, face almost entirely obscured by bushy white beard and wide brimmed hat. Somehow standing in the presence of unfathomable arcana and unmistakable royalty, she couldn’t help but feel entirely out of place.
With the general and all his adjutants dead, however—lost beyond the walls during the fighting retreat that’d saved so many lives, yet also saw so many wives turned to widows and children made into orphans—she alone held the highest military rank in all the central capital.
It was ludicrous.
She glanced about the summoning chamber—what had been the Royal reception hall only hours prior, before they’d been forced to consider such drastic measures—with all its gold trimmed opulence, bright red carpets, grand royal banners, and intricate molding nearly blinding in their collective radiance. She kept feeling the urge to check her boot soles. Positively mortified at the idea of tracking mud into somewhere so polished and pristine.
Abruptly, the murmured chanting of the princess and arch magister rose to a roaring crescendo. Their strangely resonant words, spoken in a tongue she did not recognize, bouncing off the walls and setting the crystal chandeliers to trembling. As their voices were raised, the arcane circle taking up the vast majority of the hall began to glow. Burning with a bloody crimson intensity.
So bright that she was momentarily forced to shield her eyes. With one last barking, too sharp syllable, the summoning circle flashed, then dimmed just as quickly, until the swooping lines more resembled burning embers.
Blinking stars from her eyes, it was long moments before she could properly make out the huddled form at the center of the summoning circle. In lieu of detail, her mind conjured up all manner of demonic horrors. An infernal duke? A demonic prince? Perhaps even the demon lord himself?! She’d been told there was no way of knowing the exact nature of the nightmarish entity they’d so brazenly welcomed into their world. Only that they would save them in their hour of need, and, more likely than not, demand a comparably weighty prize as payment.
When at last her vision adjusted, and she laid eyes upon this fell creature that would prove their savior, she nearly fell flat on her face from surprise.
“Is… is that a baby?!”
+++
Hmm… now that’s rather inconvenient.
Ignoring the trio of figures excitedly chattering to themselves in the background, Richard desperately delved into himself, ultimately annoyed to find that, just as he’d immediately suspected upon entering this practical portion of the trial, the maneuverability granted to him by the Accessibility Protocol was nowhere to be found.
He sighed.
This would definitely make things more difficult to manage moving forward.
Thankfully, he’d prepared for just such a contingency. It just wasn’t the option he’d have personally preferred. Thumbing his Ring of Plenty, a simple iron band—the very same he’d been loaned upon completing the prep phase of the trial—he summoned what, to all those present, looked like nothing so much as a carpet made of overlapping sheets of paper covered in arcane scribblings. He summoned the construct directly underneath him, not trusting his body, somehow miraculously balanced in a sitting position, to do anything more than flop over in any given direction.
It was quite possibly the most convoluted and inefficient construct he had ever laid eyes upon, let alone had a hand in creating.
And yet, it’d been the best he could manage under the circumstances. Thumbing his ring again, he brought out two heavily customized Aquatic Lance scrolls, slotting each into a cylindrical sleeve made for just such a purpose. Together, they formed a set of protruding handles for him to hold onto, though that wasn’t their original purpose. The second he slotted them into their paper casings, a pulse of blue light spread from them, down the handles, and along a winding path of interconnected runic formations—running all along the carpet’s length.
Covered in glowing blue lines, his creation hummed to life. Having already bound the mind link formation with a drop of his blood, he ever so carefully began the convoluted activation deactivation cycle he’d spent an entire hour inside the workshop practicing. Hesitantly at first, though gaining more confidence as time went on, his paper carpet began levitating into the air. Well it was less “levitation,” and more, “tug of war played with gravity,” the constant bobbing up and down already starting to make his head ache.
Even still, it was far far better than the alternative.
Richard let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Then nearly lurched skull first into a crystal chandelier when his brief laps in concentration caused him to mistime his Lesser Acceleration rune’s activation time. Just barely managing to right himself in time, he steadied his flight path and lowered himself once more—trying to ignore the rapid pounding in his chest. He maintained a white knuckled grip on his battery/handles.
Despite its many, many, flaws, it was a rather inspired design if he did say so himself.
A combination of [Lesser Harden] and [Lesser Bind] for structural integrity. [Lesser Impetus] and [Lesser Acceleration] for propulsion, and two heavily modified ability scrolls by way of mana storage device. In effect, because his creation required a constant stream of mana to remain operational, he’d been forced to improvise. He’d rightly assumed that his infinite supply of mana would not extend to the practical portion of the trial, so these scrolls had been his solution.
Taking advantage of the frankly absurd amounts of mana required to properly graft even the simplest ability down onto paper, he’d subtly altered the Aquatic Lance formation, the highest cost ability he had access to at uncommon rarity, so that it cost even more mana to trace.
Then, all he’d needed was a way to funnel all that stored mana in a steady stream, and, voilà, an inefficient mana battery! His carpet required two scrolls to power it, and each scroll would only last him a day, but considering he had a couple hundred of the things, he wasn’t overly concerned.
Finally, while vertical propulsion proved trivially easy to implement—since it was a flat surface, the direction half his runes would primarily be facing was down—lateral maneuverability proved far more tricky to achieve. He’d thought about leaning his body by way of making micro adjustments, but his infant’s frame proved too unwieldy for that to ultimately be viable. He’d then gone through a number of iterations before eventually settling on the best out of a terrible set of options.
Beneath his sloppy conveyance, he’d affixed eight pieces of paper so that, when he rose into the air, each would dangle from the bottom of his creation by a single edge.
Committing to the design, Richard hovered in place for a few moments, trying to shift the flapping parchment as little as possible. When he figured they were as still as they were bound to get, he solidified each simultaneously with the use of Lesser Harden. Freezing them in the hollowed out shape of an octagon—Lesser Impetus and Lesser Acceleration runes glowing prominently on each face.
Now, by cyclically activating one or two faces of the octagon he’d be able to maneuver himself laterally in almost any given direction.
•—|-Crude Talismanic Conveyance-|—•
•[Uncommon]•
A crudely cobbled together conveyance that only functions due to the qualifications of its creator. Evidently crafted by a master Talismanic Artificer, this hodgepodge collection of interlaced talismans technically allows for the traversal of the open sky.
Phew!
Now then, what exactly have these people been blabbering about all this time?
