M.D.Syl
patreon
Chapter 75 colorless
🕑 Added 2023-04-29 17:02:23 +0000 UTCAuthor notes:
This chapter is dedicated to CeldurEylin for supporting me on Patreon.
Thank you so much for your support! <3
/
On another note. I have a funny point about a "dark souls roll" in a sword fight in this chapter.
Chapter 75 Magical battle.
Worship the forces of creation.
Bow to the powers of worlds’ birth.
We are all nothing but a mere spark of life
in the vast ocean of reality.
Jalier, Master of the Elements.
The intruder is an overweight man, but he’s not obese. The small pair of brown eyes on his chubby face narrow with his priestly smile. He moves his hand in his short graying beard.
“I believe we have business…” I say loud enough to be heard, and the whispers around the inn die in an instant. The deathly silence gives me goosebumps.
“Ho ho. You’re the new sorceress! His Grace Prince Reynold, at your disposal.” The priestly man gives me a curt bow. While the crowd follows with the murmurs: “May the thirteen watch over His Grace.”
“Inara,” I say dryly without a curtsy. I’m surprised by the following murmurs from the crowd. “May the thirteen watch over Her Grace.” Are these people for real?! They really don’t know we’re about to fight each other to death?! Or they do, and simply want to support both sides in order to stay alive… that makes more sense…
“Inara, then…” his kind expression changes into a deep frown. “The language of Myrsha. You are not an exile, are you? You’re here on a trial from the tower.”
Let’s try and buy some time… “That’s correct. But I’m not interested in you or the king you serve. I am merely passing through. Your king’s hunt for a wife had forced me to dispose of those rotten guards…”
He mutters something under his breath that sounds like a curse in a foreign language. “I understand. I’m sorry to put you in this situation, but I have orders I can’t refuse. If I still ruled this city, I’d let you go, but alas. I bring a message from His Majesty, the King. Submit and become a princess under his rule. Or die. These are your choices, you have twenty-four hours to respond.” great… I just told him I don’t want to fight… I just admitted I’m weak enough to be blackmailed…
The man takes a few steps backward before I realize he’s planning to leave. He simply wouldn’t turn his back to me. Smart. He dies here, or my friends will die!
My heart thumps loudly in my chest as I silently weave fire patterns, drawing flame from the fireplace. Fotyr folo! <Firefly!> a bolt of fire shoots out from the crackling wood at our side, heading toward the flank of the chubby man.
He ducks. The crowd behind him screams in excitement. This man is more agile than I expect from an overweight middle-aged man. A yellowish fog comes out of his robes as he calls out. “Reviss! Kas shoarr oarofisia!” <energy! feed ____ ___!>
A swift 1st level spell! “Myrsha samir!” <gravity protects!> I shout.
Pure electricity jumps out of the man’s hands. I scream when his lightning travels through my barrier. My body shakes violently, and the world turns white. I lose my ability to think or move as the electricity courses through me.
The pain is relieved when Kolag steps between me and the enemy sorcerer. Kolag’s large claymore attracts most of the channeled electricity, flashes of white sparks travel around the armor along with a yellowish speck of light that circles my armored boyfriend. Only now I can breathe and realize that my trusty red barrier can only slow down physical objects. Not energy. Not lightning.
My hair puffs out and smoke rises from my dress, I keep seeing afterimages of the flash. The people watching all around us boo. This is supposed to be a duel, and Kolag’s interference disappoints them.
“Revisor, volni to atarisor! Soriler!” <light, ___ __ __! ___!> The electricity coming out of the enemy's fingertips stops, but the man keeps chanting.
Like I’ll let you chant another 1st level spell, you bastard! “Hod myrsha!" <Earth pull!>
With a puff of yellow smoke; there are six versions of the enemy sorcerer. Each runs in a different direction. Upstairs, to the windows, toward the door. And my formed mana patterns pass through an illusion that blurs and turns into yellowish dust.
The adrenaline pumps in my veins. “Latsa” <Lift> I lift five bronze butter knives with ‘Minor Telekinesis’ and “Ritsa!” <Repulse!>
My knives hit all of the illusions at once, and only a single one out of the remaining five stumbles when the bronze butter knife clatters to the ground. I wish I had real daggers to throw… The real prince is on his way to the stairs that leads toward the inn’s second floor, while the rest of the illusions blurs and crumble into yellowish dust.
“Snakes in a jar!” the middle-aged man swears. “Revisor ak!” <Light strong! > Everything turns white.
I shut my eyes in order not to be blinded by the strong light. “Myrsha Samir!” <Gravity protects!>
Still blinded, I panic. It takes a short while for me to regain my vision. This defensive spell is a battle instinct for me, but it proves useless in my battle with this man. I have to stop relying on this spell for defense and learn some new ones that are meant to stop energy attacks.
When the bright light dies down and my vision turns to normal, I spot the white robed man halfway toward the doorway, he only wants to escape. I give chase. I can’t let him leave! There’s no way I’d catch him outside with his illusion magic.
I hope the crowd of people will slow him down, but these people open their ranks making way for him. They don’t want any trouble. For them, we are simply a show or a natural disaster. Maybe a mix of both?
“Hod myrsha!” <Earth pull!> The weight under him triples, and the Prince falls forward. “Rod’ena!” <Vines!> I wrap him in vines to stop him from getting back to his feet.
Kolag bolts forward, he charges past me, waving his claymore.
“Atakesh!” Reynold shouts. A mass of dark fog appears around the white-robed sorcerer, swallowing Kolag. I can tell something cuts off my vines, but I have no idea what’s going on in this darkness. A few feminine screams erupt from the crowds. I can’t tell if these are screams of excitement or fear. We’re really just a show to these people! Are they not afraid of dying?! Kolag… I hope he’s not dying on me…
“Revissor” <Light> I send a ball of light forward into the dark fog, and the darkness slowly disperses by my light. Kolag swings widely at the Prince who just stood up.
The white robed man rolls forward in a dodge that I wouldn’t expect from an overweight man of his age, but Kolag kicks him mid roll and the sorcerer finds himself on his back, limbs sprawled. With the sickening sound of metal biting into flesh, Kolag impales the sorcerer’s abdomen to the ground with his claymore.
Kolag lets go of his claymore and knees the man’s chest. He punches the sorcerer's face violently. “Kidnapping women!” *Punch* “Violating them!” *Punch* “Torturing people!” *Punch* “Executing good people!” *Punch* “In the most inhuman ways I’ve ever seen!” *Punch* “Leaving them out to rot!” *Punch* “Naked!” *Punch* “Without even a tree to their names!” *Punch*.
The man puts his hands on Kolag’s helmet. “Reviss kas!” <Energy feed!> he yelps with his last breath. But nothing happens. Kolag’s claymore is probably made out of an iron alloy, I’ll have to ask him. Either that or that man can’t concentrate with a sword in his belly…
Kolag gets up, grips his claymore, and twists it in the man’s guts. “I should let you die in the same horrible way you executed the innocent. I should let you suffer! But I’m not cruel like you.” He decapitates the man in a swift motion. The head rolls on the ground and stops near my feet, looking up at me with a pain etched on the priestly face. “By the light of Noxi, this is justice!” Kolag roars above the headless body, raising his sword above his head.
To my utter surprise, the crowd boos and jeer. They received the show they were here for, even if it wasn’t a one on one battle. Why are they so unhappy? Kolag cleans his blade on the man’s white robes. He turns and walks toward me, his claymore, resting on his shoulder and his face hidden by his helmet.
The way he looks makes my heart miss a beat. Posing on the battlefield again… Bucket head... I shake my head with amusement, trying not to think about the dead face near my feet or the few women who ogle Kolag instead of booing with the rest of the crowd.
“I’m tired, Inara…” he says in Toml’a. “I’m really tired of all this horseshit. Let’s head to that monster’s palace and take him out for good. Don’t scheme. Don’t play by their rules. Just take him out! Plain and simple.”
Seems like I have a lot to learn about battling a magic-wielding opponent, I would’ve lost this battle without Kolag… I’m glad Jerro told him to stick close… Swift 1st level spells… can’t say I expected this, I can only cast 1 of these… I imagine Luard can cast more of them... “I’m not sure we’re capable of that, we barely survived this guy,” I say, smoothing my puffed hair. I blink rapidly, trying to dismiss the afterimages in front of my eyes. “Jerro, what happens if we assault the King’s palace directly?”
“My soul mate lives, I live, you all die.” Jerro’s reply is cold as if he does not care whether we live or die.
“I have less than half of my mana left, Kolag. I can use some of my magical gems if it comes down to it, but there’s a limit to how many gems I can drain and I’d rather not waste them… I’m still sore from that lightning…” I probably have a new lightning scar now… A few of my muscles cramp, causing me to wince and lean against the table. “...I’m in no condition to have another fight like this, and they have two more spell-casters in that palace. I’d rather keep us alive to fight another day and lay low for a little while. The King should hear we defeated his man by now, let him look for us while we hide…”
Kolag turns his sword and stabs it into the wooden floor in the direction of the people, resting his hand on the hilt like a statue. The crowd disperses. Each of them goes back to their drink or out of the inn, but a few girls giggle and whisper to one another in excitement.
“Not that I get why, but they don't like you for some reason. Do you really have to pose for them?” I ask in annoyance still trying to fix my hair. It’s not fair, he looks amazing, all metal clad and powerful, beating a sorcerer all by himself. While I look like a silly, skinny, flat, short girl with puffed hair.
“Yes!” he says without breaking his pose.
“Why?”
“See that little boy over there? The one near the fireplace. If that little boy thinks I’m a hero from a tale, he’ll grow up wishing he could be like me, and I’ve created another fighter for justice in this world.”
His explanation shocks me. Was that his reason for posing?! Can’t be the only reason… “Admit it! You’re enjoying it. You just want to look like a hero!”
“Who said doing good can’t be enjoyable?” he echoes, keeping his heroic pose, but I can tell he’s smiling under his helmet.
“Ok. Enough posing for you! We’re going into hiding. Jerro, go and call Ryon’s group back, with Zoe and Ryon, we should find a good place to hide in this city.”
“We don’t have the time for that,” Jerro says. “The King knows his prince is dead, he’ll be here in seventeen minutes. The hunter should’ve done as I’ve ordered and killed the spy who reports to the King, now it is too late.”
“Let’s run for it, then! Leave the city?”
“Yes, the south gate is the closest,” Jerro responds.
It’s a race against time. We pack Loyal at the stables and leave the city within seventeen minutes. As we get out of town, I can hear the destruction and the screams behind us. The King certainly isn’t happy.
*~*~*
Interlude 75.1
Salik.
The dice roll on the table. Two pairs of snake eyes. Coin exchange hands and the men laugh and bicker. Salik happily parts with his coin, he had collected enough men to serve as soldiers and already signed contracts with them. The loud dice games only attracts more of them like moths to a flame.
With Lezere behind his back, no one thinks to be a clever gremlin, you can’t be a rotten gremlin when a huge orc is staring down at you with a snarl. Since Salik is losing money to these men, they’re more than happy to put down their coins, and with more men joining the game, there are more potential recruits for Inara.
“That’s her! The orc!” The shouts attracts Salik’s attention. A young man is pointing at Lezere. It’s hard to miss who the young man is talking to.
A slender middle aged woman in purple silk. Her blond hair is tied up on her nape in a tight bun, and her blue eyes focus on Lezere.
Salik can spot an arcane caster from miles away, it's in the sneer that's usually etched on their face, or the flowery scent they all have. An arcane caster ready for battle is your doom, an arcane caster relaxing? You put an arrow in their back. Salik hadn’t survived this long by challenging arcane casters directly, except for his younger years. But the abilities he had back then are long gone by now.
Salik grabs a nearby straw hat and puts it on his head. Just another mercenary amongst many.
“Get her! The one who brings me that piggy alive gets paid with ten sorcerer stones!” the woman shouts, pointing at Lezere.
That’s not an offer any of these greedy men can refuse. That’s a retirement pay, one that can last a whole family for a generation.
Lezere is surrounded by weapons within a second. “Ti-a’ark!” With the traditional orc battlecry, the girl draws her axe and fights against all odds. Salik shakes his head. Orcs don’t know the meaning of a tactical retreat, it’s one of their main weaknesses. Not that the girl can retreat, there’s nowhere to retreat when you’re surrounded.
“Alive!” the woman in the fancy silk shouts.
Lezere hacks with her axe, and a good man drops to the ground with a deadly wound in his shoulder. His name was Tidir, Salik has just signed his contract.
The other mercenaries are hesitant, the taller orc spins around like a madwoman, waving that gleaming axe of hers along with her fist and legs. She cleverly uses the mercenaries against one another, grabbing, tripping, and pushing some in the others' way. She clearly attempts to make her way toward the blond in the dress.
“Myrsha, nia tsaf lah. Lu myrsha nik kull lah. Nik wuan nalahi myrsha.” The blondie chants. Her voice echoes in the same manner Inara’s voice echoes when she chants her spells.
Lezere floats in the air. She’s still spinning, but the momentum is gone. Now she’s just flailing up in the air, slowly drifting toward the tall ceiling.
“Useless thugs. Why do I have to do everything myself?” The blondie declares as if she didn’t use the lives of three good men to stall a two meters orc so she can chant her long spell in peace.
“Ritsa.” A chair slams into Lezere, knocking her up into the ceiling. “Ritsa!” another chair. Then a pot. A series of blunt objects float up at Lezere like an odd set of arrows. Ramming and breaking against the the orcish woman one after the other until she’s beaten bloody against the ceiling. Lezere drops from the tall ceiling, a long 4 meters drop before she hits the ground with a dull thud.
“Tie the piggy up! His majesty better reward me for this, or he can get someone else to do his dirty work.” The woman orders a pair of guards to drag the unconscious Lezere away from there.
Salik turns back to his dice game when the commotion die out. He’s just another merc, nothing special. And he definitely cannot challenge a room full of men nor an arcane caster. Even if he offered them a double pay to charge at the caster, half of them would still side with her. This would’ve been bloody, and the army he’s meant to recruit would’ve killed itself.
No. Know your battles. Pick them wisely. Lezere might die, but a general cannot allow himself to become attached. Salik forces a smile on his face as he rolls the dice. And a general knows to keep rolling the dice and drawing the cards until he gets the hand he needs. And here it is. Two pairs of fours and Three times six. He definitely won this round. Salik collects the coin to his side of the table. Know your battles, pick them wisely…
*~*~*
Power level: 3rd stage apprentice.
Mana pools status:
Crown-knot: Affinity 10: formed: 1 gem replenished per five minutes.
Neck-Bridge: Affinity 6: formed: max amount of gems drained per day: 66
Abdomen-storage: Affinity 5: formed: 6 gems. Conversion ratio: 6:1
Air: Affinity 4: formed: 18 gems
Fire: Affinity 2: formed: 9 gems
Light: Affinity 3: formed: 14 gems
Water: Affinity 6: formed: 27 gems
Earth: Affinity 1: formed: 4 gems
Wood: Affinity 2: formed: 9 gems
Gravity: Affinity 9: formed: 40/41 gems
Cantrip known:
Air: Shavi’s Breeze, Shavi’s Sword. Shavi’s Hair Dryer, Aria’s Enhanced Hearing. Aria’s Sonic Scream.
Fire: Nuriss’ Flame. Effrat’s Firefly, Effrat’s Fire Breath. Sorladika's Lesser Heating. Nuriss’ Ignite.
Light: Noxi’s Light. Lako’s Blinding Light. Rika’s energy hand.
Water: Water Evocation, Water to Ice, Ice to Water, Water to Vapor, Vapor to Water, Mayan’s Icy Spike, Ayla’s Water Jet. Ayla’s instant freeze.
Earth: Alice’s Oil Summoning, Reiko’s Acid Spray.
Wood: Arigor’s Lesser Vines. Kolosu’s Vegetable Summoning.
Gravity: Lumina’s Kinetic Burst. Tukado’s Repulse. Tukado’s lesser shield. Imari’s Minor Telekinesis. Imari’s Jump. Leo’s Pull. Leo’s Grounding. Alino’s Light Body. Alino’s Heavy Body.
Spells known:
Gravity: Alino’s Weightless Bodyb.
Life: Brigit’s Lesser Cure Poison.
Focus capability: 12 patterns
Social status: Inara, Daughter of Mysteries. Apprentice to the Maven of Mysteries. Sorceress.
Wealth: 1498 Magic Gems. 1421 Golden Peas, 17 Silver Scales, 12 Copper Bits.
Items:
Magical necklace. Contains 100 gems of general mana, can be drained like a mana pool. It’ll recharge by itself at the rate of five gems an hour.
1 potion of lightning body.
1 potion of mana, medium grade.
An enchanted belt with eight pouches, the enchantment keeps the pouches’ content fresh.
Fresh rose petals, 22g
10 empty soul bottles. Glass with a diamond stopper, put in scaled leather wrapping.
The Great White Egret grimoire. Dedicated by the Maven of mysteries to Inara. 10/100
Companions:
Kolag of house Befar
Jerro
Languages:
Toml’a <People’s tongue> Fluent
Sinteo <Speech> Fluent
Myrsha <Gravity> 7/10
Felul <Wind> 1/10
Injuries and scars: aftershock muscle cramps.
