“So what is that big crystal in the tower anyway?”
Myrl and I were laying the red and white speckled mushrooms out to dry in the sun.
“It’s a dragon orb,” Myrl said, brushing some dirt off a particularly delectable-looking cap.
“Aren’t orbs supposed to be, well… orb-shaped?” I asked. The one that hung in the hall looked much closer to an elongated quartz crystal than the sphere of energy I had seen rise out of the boar.
“Most are. Dragons, however, are special. Not only are their mana orbs shaped like crystals, but they also don’t undergo the same expansion that other monster orbs experience.”
“Expansion?”
“Yes.” Myrl’s long grey beard dragged across the assorted mushrooms as he worked. “If a monster dies and no one is around to collect its orb, it will float aimlessly around the countryside, accumulating ambient mana until it grows large enough to become a rift. At that point, the mana nucleates in the form of new monster orbs within the rift. It’s one way that monsters reproduce.”
“Do monsters die when no one’s around often?”
“Sure. Monsters can still fall off cliffs and get struck by lightning. And if they kill each other in fights, most aren’t smart enough to assimilate the orbs of their fallen opponents. Those unassimilated orbs grow to become rifts that spawn more monsters.”
“How long does it take for a stray orb to become a rift?” I asked as the early afternoon sun beat down on me. The days were getting warmer, and I could see little heat shimmers in the tower courtyard, distorting the figures of the statues.
“Good question,” Myrl said. “I assume you’re thinking you could let a monster orb go unassimilated, collecting mana on its own before absorbing it into your own orb. Free extra mana, right?”
I nodded.
“The turnaround time from deceased monster to nascent rift has been recorded as short as a single day. Once it becomes a rift, no matter how small, the mana can’t be absorbed from the outside. You have to go inside and defeat the new monsters in there because that’s where all the mana is concentrated now.”
“But not with a dragon orb.”
“Correct. Dragons only reproduce the old-fashioned way. And rarely at that. That’s why they’re so uncommon. And their orbs can be used as an external mana storage device. We all send a little of our mana to the dragon orb in Bluebell Tower every day at the urging of Senior Archmage Alynur. He says it’s an invaluable resource in the case of an emergency.”
After running low on my own mana with that fight with the boar, I could see how having an auxiliary supply would provide a substantial benefit.
“So that’s why the white wizard wanted it.”
“You mean Archwizard Siulius? Fuck that guy. He sucks. But yes. It’s probably the single largest reservoir of external mana in the entire realm.”
“If he’s so strong, why doesn’t he just go kill a dragon himself?”
Myrl chuckled. “One does not simply kill a dragon. No. The task would be nigh impossible even for an Archwizard.”
“But Senior Archmage Alynur did it, right?”
“Ahh, and now you’ve discovered the central mystery around Archmage Alynur,” Myrl said with a twinkle in his eye.
“… And that is?”
“What is his true level?”
“You mean you don’t know?”
“No one does. A wizard can only see the levels of those less strong than themself. Sometimes you can estimate their level based on the spells they use, but Alynur rarely uses his highest-level spells in front of others. I don’t think Siulius even knows how strong Alynur really is.”
I thought about this for a long while. Eventually, we finished laying out the mushrooms. They looked glorious, arranged in neat rows on a burlap tarp and drying in the sun like little red gems.
“Hey Myrl, can you help me with something?” I asked. Ever since my fight with the boar, I wanted to experiment with the limits of my [Void Thread] spell.
Myrl shrugged. “Sure thing.”
I took him outside the main gate of the tower’s outer wall and walked a little way around the perimeter. “I want to test my [Void Thread] spell. It pierced straight through that statue the first time I used it, and it also sliced through an entire boar.”
“Brilliant application of it, by the way,” he said. “Using a moving target to maximize the surface area of the attack. You have to be clever in the early levels. The spells aren’t going to do all the work for you.”
“Thanks,” I said. “But I’m wondering just how far the piercing power goes. Does the void thread continue on indefinitely, cutting through the universe for all of time? Or does it eventually wear out?”
“Well, the beam itself probably only lasts as long as the spell circle,” Myrl said. “But you’re right, we should test the limits of its destructive force. What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I was thinking of just firing it through the wall here and seeing if it hits the other side. I’ll do it at an angle so it doesn’t hit the main tower.”
“A secant,” Myrl said.
“Excuse me?”
“A secant is a line that intersects a circle at two points,” Myrl explained.
“Oh, right,” I said, vaguely remembering the term from high school geometry. “Is there any way for you to get on top of the wall just to make sure I’m not going to hit one of the other wizards?”
I noticed Myrl’s legs begin to glow blue with mana as he crouched down, then launched himself onto the top of the wall. “Coast is clear,” he said, giving me the thumbs up.
It must have been a jump of thirty feet or more. And he did it in a single leap like it was nothing. I was really going to have to learn that mana body augmentation trick. It was freaking sick.
I pointed at the wall in a direction that was slightly off-center. “This angle look good?”
“Perfect,” he called back.
“Okay, here I go.” I closed my eyes and retrieved the spell circle. My mana was topped off from assimilating the boar’s orb earlier, so I was in no danger of running out. When I opened my eyes, the afterimage remained, and I quickly traced the spell circle by channeling mana out of my extended index and middle fingers.
When it was complete, I incanted the spell’s name, and the pattern glowed with its signature black and purple void energy. A second later, the thread of dark energy shot through the stone masonry.
When the spell circle faded, I examined the wall up close, looking for the mark where the spell went through. It was barely perceptible, but I found it. A tiny hole burrowed cleanly through the rock. If I moved my head just right, I could make out light on the other end.
“Did you see it come out the other side?” I called up to Myrl.
“It was just a flash, but yeah. I clocked it.”
“Let’s see if we can find the corresponding hole on the other side.”
It took some searching, but Myrl had noted the general area that the spell had hit, and after about ten minutes of poring over the stone, I found it. A tiny borehole just like on the opposite side of the circular wall.
However, I couldn’t see through this one.
“Can you see any light on the other side?” I asked, letting Myrl have a look at the little breach my spell had made.
“Can’t be sure,” he said, squinting with one eye closed. “The other side of the wall is in shadow this time of day. Here, let me try something.”
He pointed his staff at the hole and said, “[Lamplight].” A simple yellow spell circle appeared, and in front of it dangled an ethereal lantern, suspended in the air by the power of the spell alone. It was surprisingly bright even in the afternoon sun.
Myrl sent mana to his legs again and leapt over the wall. “Nope,” his faint voice called back. “I don’t see anything.” A moment later, he returned, landing in the inner sanctum with deft feet.
“It seems your void magic has a penetrating limit,” he said. “Makes sense. It must consume a lot of energy to turn stone into nothing.”
“I’m actually relieved,” I said. “I was afraid I might accidentally cut the planet in half. Speaking of which, is there any way to drag a spell circle after it’s been formed? Having a stationary spell that only produces a pinprick of damage is a little limiting.”
“Yes, I can see how you might want to do that, dragging your thread along like a saber.” Myrl thought for a moment. “However, most spells are tied to their spell circle. Consider my [Lamplight] spell here.”
The bright yellow lamp was still hovering in front of the rotating spell circle. “Now that I’ve created it, I can’t pick it up and take it with me. Now, there are some spells like buffs and enchantments that travel with the target. But offensive spells like your [Void Thread] there are generally locked to their spell circle, and the spell circle is locked to the caster’s frame of reference when the spell is cast.”
“So it seems I have more of a piercing spell than a cutting spell,” I clarified.
“Indeed,” the old skinny wizard replied.
“One last question.”
“Shoot.”
“I noticed you didn’t trace out the spell circle for [Lamplight]. It just appeared in front of your staff.”
“That’s the beauty of using a staff,” Myrl said. “No more tracing. It takes a lot more focus, though. Faster casting time, but it requires exponentially more control. Like trying to conduct a symphony with a club.”
“Any chance I could get one?” I asked sheepishly.
“Well, a true staff takes months, sometimes years, of seasoning and imbuing with various magical materials, but I think we have some practice staves lying around here somewhere. I’ll see if I can find one for you.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Then Bagavash came out of the main entrance of the tower and walked over toward us.
“It has been decided,” he said.
“The solution to our quota problem?” Myrl clarified.
“We’re going to clear the rift in the Charred Forest. We set out first thing in the morning. That means you too,” he said, turning to me. “It will be good experience for you. Besides, we need to get your levels up if you’re going to contribute to our lovely tax quotas.”
“The Charred Forest rift?” Myrl said. “Isn’t there a level 90 boss in there?”
“We’ll be fine,” Bagavash said. “With the five of us, we should have no problem taking it out.”
Myrl nodded.
He turned back to me. “We’ll have to get you proper robes. And a hat… And a staff. You’re a proper Blue Wizard now. Best look like one.”
The robes and hat were well-worn, threadbare in places. Bagavash promised he’d buy me new ones next time we went to town. The staff was a simple affair of dark brown wood. There was no crystal at the top. Myrl said it takes a while to find an appropriate crystal to amplify your powers.
After a hearty dinner cooked up by Linli (it seemed the wizards took turns making dinner. Breakfast and lunch were strictly fend for yourself), I was put on dish duty. I didn’t mind at all. The wizards had shown me more than enough hospitality, and I was happy to repay them in any way I could.
The kitchen reminded me of the communal kitchens in hostels I had stayed at when I was younger. It was a large room off of the central chamber of the tower, lit by flickering emberstones in sconces on the wall. There was a large wooden island table in the center, and the sink faced a window that looked out into the inner sanctum.
I had started calling the area surrounded by the wall the inner sanctum because I noticed that’s what the wizards called it. It was more fitting than courtyard anyway. Courtyard implied lots of stone and columns, whereas the inner sanctum was much more grass and trees and gardens connected by little stone paths.
At this hour of the night, the paths were lit by tiny gold mushrooms that produced a little flare of sparkles above their caps, almost like fairy lights.
After the dishes were done, I retired to my room. I didn’t feel at all tired, so I figured now was a good time to ponder my orb. Since we were going on a quest tomorrow, I wanted to level up before we entered the rift.
I sat on my bed cross-legged and closed my eyes. Above the mental image of my orb, blue text floated.
Mana: 242/270(Mana required to reach next level: 300)
I noticed my mana had ticked upward since I had cast [Void Thread] that afternoon. It appeared that mana recovered on its own, if slowly.
Rather than just focusing on my orb, I pictured myself inside of it, meditating beneath the huge life tree that dominated the landscape. The blue text followed me down, and as I meditated, the number went up.
It was relatively easy to replenish my spent mana. I got it back up to 270 in probably ten minutes. However, accumulating more than the limit was noticeably harder, like when I was first forming my orb.
After ten more minutes, I was only able to increase it by one.
Mana: 271/271(Mana required to reach next level: 300)
When I did, a new star appeared in the heavens of my orb. Inside the little world I had created, my mana appeared as stars in the sky. I knew it was really clumps of mana particles being attracted to my orb like static electricity, but from my perspective inside the orb, they looked like stars.
I intensified my focus, and another star appeared.
Mana: 272/272(Mana required to reach next level: 300)
I went on like this late into the night. Level 2 was so close I could almost feel it.
I couldn’t be sure what time it was when I finally reached 300, but when I did, I was greeted by a new message from the system.
Congratulations, you have reached level 2!
Mana: 300/300(Mana required to reach next level: 480)
Upgrade [Void Thread] → Level 2Increases the diameter of the thread
or learn a new spell:
[Root Bind] plant magic[Leaf Dart] plant magic[Healing Water] water magic[Void Blade] void magic
Hmm, I thought to myself.
Decisions, decisions…