Asheron's Fall: The Power of Ten, Book Six

When I was using the Sublime Chord, the ley lines were much more apparent in the area, and so I found the connecting nodes without much trouble beneath the sand and stone of the beach here. Three Summons points, one devoted to the spawn pool, one to the Matron, and one suborned to protect and empower the small temple-fort they’d put up.

The power used to form the connections wasn’t that high, probably the shamans operating together, and I slashed it open, nullified the connecting strands, and broke them off, letting them drift off and rapidly dissipate once they lost their power source.

Princess Kristie put Quaver into Axe form, with Sundering and Breaking on her, and let everyone take turns chopping the crap apart.

Without the magical reinforcement, the Shaped coral walls and posts started to rot quickly, and proved brittle and crumbly. Alternating axe and hammer heads on Quaver, the scouts hacked away enthusiastically as the transformed Sword blasted through the posts with terrific power. I stood on a Disk and did rep counts with Bludgeon Bolts boosted with Shards for more striking power, shattering the sea stone in sprays of stone and pebbles as the rock lost a great deal of its rigidity.

The dome went quickly, being thinner and less structurally intact. Kris proved a natural at weakening the wall, using Quaver in pick form to punch holes into the stone, like hacking into stiff cheese, and then my follow-up Bolts went in and shattered the Shaped stuff in explosions of protesting rock.

Soon enough, the coral posts of the exterior defenses were ground down and buried under the sands, and the fort itself was reduced to a rough waist-high collection of crumbling rocks that were in no way suitable for actually building another such structure atop, although they’d protect some from the wind.

All of the scrap rock went into filling up the spawn pool, probably the original source of it, and filled it up without too much trouble, everyone competing to see how many big splashes they could make as the rubble was heaved into it.

It wasn’t useful as a well, regardless, being even more brackish than normal sea water, and nobody wanted to test the fading, decaying magic worked about it.

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“Highness, your little advisor there, she be not trying to hide something or be humble about things, be she?” the Mick asked, as they gathered up for another hour of running down the beach until the dawn.

“She’s not one to show off, but she’s not trying to mislead you. What’s on your mind, Lord Mick?” She was still amused at finding out he was a nobleman, of sorts.

“That were some very powerful magic she was putting out, making the stone fly like that.” He paused to make sure Kris was following. “I saw the wind-up times. That were Silver Scarab magic she were using. It were hitting like Tier Eight Incantations.”

“Oh, that. She’s riding her Matrix magic on the Silver spell. It gives it a lot of kick it wouldn’t have normally, but naturally costs extra Valences. She’s probably spending more Mana than any Isparian Caster for the amount of damage she’s doing. You did notice she has to pause to recharge a lot, right?”

“Oh, aye.” He winced. “Made it pretty plain she could have cut down that Matron plenty fast without me...”

“Well, no, not without flying out of reach first. You were blocking it, as it were, while she was on alert against other surprises coming in. And if she couldn’t kill it, she shouldn’t have been in the area at all. Plus, you’ve a long way to rise, so be patient. You’ve already seen the difference of just minor changes and advances. You haven’t even reached Six and gotten a second attack yet.”

His fist clenched. “That spell o’ motion she uses...”

“It’s simply called Haste, and it is very famous as one of the very best combat Buffs that is out there, Lord Mick,” the princess supplied helpfully.

“Be there a way for me t’ be able to call on such magic meself, without needing her around?” he asked directly, eagerly.

“Several of them, all of which take time and goldweight.” He opened his mouth, closed it, and then sighed, shutting his eyes and letting the stress flow out of him.

“Were a stupid question, on the face of it,” he murmured.

“It’s a very popular effect. You’re not wrong to want to be able to use it. However, the magic of Time is not easy to use, and you certainly can’t have it active all of the time. It is literally bought up in lots of six seconds at a time, and gets pricey quickly. There are even Potions which produce similar effects, but they normally only last thirty seconds at a pop, and they aren’t cheap to make, either. A good Melee can make them last longer, but they are still something you save for a fight that is important.”

“Understood.” He watched the young Gharu’n woman Meditating just before the dawn. He’d been told she’d be Infusing while they ran down the beach to the next settlement of Nan-Zari, another collection of Villas to look over during the day. If all went well, they’d finish up there, take a break for the day, and then come the night continue on past the old trail leading up to the end of the road from Nanto, and down to the other isolated Villa sitting on the hill overlooking the beach, named the Bonewatch by the scouts who used it for a marker and camp.

That point marked the edge of the undead patrols coming from Mayoi, as organized by Master Ben Ten. It was kept very clear of raiding lugians and the like, and the shades didn’t often make it that far south, usually getting drawn into combat with the wild tribes in the area of old Nanto and killed there.

“There really be no short cut to all of this?” he asked, sighing at the time required. In the old days, knowing he had a goal would just incite him to go out there and find some fine opponents, fighting all day to reap the Karma needed to learn things.

This… Level-a-day stuff was far too slow!

“Hmm. Well, potentially for you, yes.” He shot her a sharp look. “You’re at the top, right below the Eternal Ceiling, because of this system, you know? So, once things get straightened out, you should be able to punch that ceiling and step beyond. One of the first things you could do is Eternal Artisan, allowing you to Invest ten goldweight a day, instead of just one.”

“Hoooo...” The Mick pursed his lips as he considered that. “That would certainly speed things up, tho still not be as sweet as unlimited loot drops of the past, aye...”

“I think that if you think about it, being able to make exactly the stuff you want to make, instead of it maybe not ever dropping off a monster powerful enough to warrant such a thing, is far more beneficial to you. You just need the capital for the Infusing and Investing.”

“Aye, that be part of it. ‘tis a LOT of value to scare up out of nowhere.”

“You might not be surprised that in the future she’s going to be VERY good at finding mineral deposits to fund that kind of thing.”

“Aye, a great surprise to me heart, that is,” he murmured, clapping his fist to his leather doublet. “And I assume she shares...”

“Be honest. Can you see her NOT sharing?” Princess Kristie asked him.

“Well, nae, actually, as long as ye be her friend an’ gearing up for the good fight, aye?” he almost surprised himself at the amused observation.

“You’re starting to read her well. Just remember to give as well as you get, and things will start to snowball.”

He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “I will. Me little roaches, they have no experience whatsoever with having proper Gear, they can only listen to me stories an’ dream about the type of things I be used t’ owning in the past.”

“I can’t speak for the power of the things you used to own. But I’m absolutely sure that in variety and the ability to customize as you like, the Matrix Artificing blows away anything you’ve had in the past. What Bunita is going to be capable of alone is going to amaze you, especially once you are able to get a few Infusions under your belt.

“It all just takes time, and goldweight.”

“Or Naming Karma?” he offered lightly.

“Or Naming Karma, although the things you can power up with Naming Karma are limited,” she agreed.

“What of making a new home for Bunita, o’ the heavy metal in your Quaver, there?” he asked respectfully. The craftsmanship of her Sword still amazed him to look upon.

“The key is finding the base metal it is Energized from, and Ryin will then be able to make it adamantine. Finding it is the key, but any place that has Null Aluminum, your chorozite, should have no difficulty with having veins of either tungsten or adamantine somewhere around.

“How are your plans for Bunita coming?”

He reached over, touched the hilt of the Claymore slung at his belt now, and popped it out.

It was the length of a dirk. He flourished it once between nimble fingers before putting it back. “That Morphing ability be too sweet to pass up. Come the dawn, I be starting on the Blooding that ye showed me. There be far too many things about that Heal up far too quickly in a fight or outside it, and stopping that be too important when fighting alone.”

“Especially you spellcaster types.” The Mick looked flamboyantly wounded as she gave him an artfully arched dark eyebrow over violet eyes. “Always Healing yourselves as soon as you are out of a fight, or ducking and running to Heal, Heal, Heal, or trotting after some valiant thug with a sword and healing them, Heal, Heal, Heal.”

“Those valiant thugs wearing gold an’ silver on their heads an’ having names like Vespecci and Allianori and Caraprucci and so forth and so on, nae doubt?”

“You’ve met a few of them yourself, I see!”

“The self-proclaimed king o’ the Viamontians there were quick to award lots of noble titles to the idiots what followed him through here to Dereth. Ye couldnae walk a mile w’out tripping over a newly knighted, ennobled, enfeoffed, or promoted Viamontian with a chip on their shoulders an’ totally thinking they were superior t’ everything else born. Lots o’ retainers with ‘em to make them feel important, too, as if being given a new forename suddenly granted ‘em tons o’ competency.”

“It certainly seemed to fill their vocabulary with specific brands of insults. My mother always liked letting them know they weren’t all that. I imagine Asheron’s Protection thwarted a lot of that attitude, but on the other hand, those Deathstones meant you could teach them the lesson repeatedly.”

“I weren’t guilty of such small-minded thinking,” the Mick sniffed. “I sent so many Viamontian Hands to the Stones over the years they started calling me Di Niger Manus. Finest Title I ever earned, that one!”

“That’s probably the nicest play on Black Aluvian I’ve ever heard. Fist!” She held up her closed fist, he hesitantly did the same, and she bopped it. “I hate to think I’m closed-minded, and I’m willing to give most anyone a chance, but Viamontians have an incredible aptitude for pissing me off and deserving a beat down, it’s almost magical about how they do it.” She licked her lips thoughtfully. “Mother said I may have been killed by one in my previous life. I haven’t done my Preincarnation Dive to find out, yet.”

“What this, now?” the Mick blinked.

“Oh, it’s an aspect of our bloodline. My family are all reincarnations of souls who died to Evil. It probably doesn’t help our temperament and tolerance for keeping our nose out of other’s people’s business, when their business is about keeping others miserable.” Her smile grew killingly wide, her eight canines agleam, and the Mick repressed a shiver. “There’s a lot of people who wish very, very heartily that we’d keep our noses out of their business, and then we make them our business, and they learn some lessons about not becoming the business of Ranthas.” She leaned forwards conspiratorially. “We’re in a very competitive, ruthlessly cutthroat business, Lord Mick.”

“Aye, I can see that.” He straightened back up. “And a fine businesswoman ye are, Highness! Keeping a steady margin o’ profit an’ all, very professional o’ you!”

“The power of muuuuuuuun-eeeee has never escaped us, despite all our lofty pursuits and high-minded ideals.” The way she tilted her head back, dark hair across her face to hide her Cursemark, made her look so much an imperial princess that the Mick just had to stare in wonder. Then that killing smile burst out, and a soft cackling laugh that raised the hackles on his skin sounded, spoiling everything with the promise of wild blood and slaughter.

“And yer mother married Commander Briggs, and became an Empress.” He shook his head in wonder. “Still wrapping me head around that, as ye might guess.”

“Well, that Voracci bastard shouldn’t have tried to kidnap and rape my sister, got himself and his entourage gutted and disemboweled for it, and then his family of pricks came raging for blood. Dad’s a very nice man, but when he lets go, goodbye!

“When all of Viamont turned out to back their own once he started wiping Voraccis and their vassals, he had enough. He promised to return unto them everything they’d done to those about them and more, and Mom was happy to go right along with him.

“They treated people like crap, now blue skin is the sign of a savage mongrel and inbred cur, treated like the scum of Ispar. They conquered, dominated, and took everything, and now Viamont is half a wasteland, their wealth is gone, their mightiest and most skilled slain, and most of their nobility slaughtered and encouraged to butcher one another for the scraps of their homeland. Any who get ideas of uniting the land and clans die in their sleep, and nobody even whispers of doing such things without petitioning the Emperor first… and Dad’s not seen any sign of them deserving any hand other than an iron fist.”

“Yer tryin’ t’ make me smile, Highness.”

“It’s working, I see.”

“It is. I’ll be sure t’ wipe it afore we get to the islands. Don’t want to piss off the blues there. They be stuffy an’ arrogant, but not bad sorts, bein’ as they ain’t among their own.”

“You might want to let word get around that I don’t take lip from them.”

“I’ll make a point o’ it. Maybe after ye beat the first one black, mind.”