The Lone Wanderer

But it never got the chance.

Before its attack even landed, two talons clasped its head, punching a handful of deep holes in its skull. A couple seconds later, Micky was already digging through the snake’s body, searching for his snack. As for Percy, he didn’t even bother turning around, knowing his familiar had everything under control all along. He continued playing the ocarina, his fingers clumsily tapping the misshapen holes, proliferating the atrocious sound.

“Percy… just stop!” Micky said, taking a break from his dinner at some point.

“Geez, I’m starting to regret teaching you how to speak.” Percy replied, though he acquiesced.

Perhaps, they had all suffered enough of his “art” for one night. Well, Nesha certainly had, as she had already kicked him out of the hut a couple hours ago. Though he blamed the crude design of the instrument as much as his own lack of skill.

‘Oh well… it’s like magic… I’ll get better at it with practice…’ he shrugged.

The only thing he lamented was how little time he got to spend with Micky ever since the incident. He and Nesha had subtly verified – through a combination of her ability and a few well-placed questions here and there – that the townsfolk had truly bought the rumour about the monstrous crow. Everyone seemed to believe that Micky was the sole culprit behind the attacks, which suited them just fine. After all, this was the exact story they wanted to reach House Tantalus’s ears.

However, it also meant Percy couldn’t enter the Grisly Bog openly. Everyone believed there was a dangerous Green beast currently roaming the area, so it would have been strange of him if he showed no fear in getting near. Consequently, he could only ever do this at night, sneaking out of the town secretly. At least, their hut was conveniently located by the edge, which made things a little easier.

“Micky, I suggest you pace yourself if you don’t want to run out of food.” Percy suddenly warned.

Ever since the bird mastered Circulation with its second core, it had grown even more formidable. Its effect would have normally been somewhat lacklustre by itself, but it seemed to synergize extremely well with Acceleration, making Micky an absolute menace. While the townsfolk had misunderstood the crow’s grade, their assumption about its strength wasn’t that far from the truth. Percy estimated Micky could hold his own against a real Green beast!

But that was a problem.

After all, they no longer lived beneath the Fungal Spire, where an endless supply of wasps emerged from the hive’s depths every day to replenish their ranks. Wild beasts couldn’t reproduce nearly as fast as the magical insects. If Micky continued to stuff his face with dozens of Yellow cores per day, he’d probably drive them to extinction by the time they left.

‘I suppose this is why higher-grade beasts are so rare outside the Spire…’

Micky wasn’t happy hearing he had to go on a diet, but he was smart enough to understand what Percy was saying. He’d already noticed it was getting harder to find food with each passing day.

In any case, this was more of a long-term problem. They’d be lucky if they survived long enough to worry about that. Placing the ocarina in his pocket, Percy leapt up from the half-rotten log. He’d already had enough of a break.

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Pulling some pure mana from his core, he focused it on his index finger, as he began to carve intricate circles on the aged wood. His first few attempts were clumsy – until he got into it – though he got better each time. Every now and then, he wiped away his previous scribbles, not wanting to leave evidence of his presence here, in case he forgot to get rid of them later.

‘Conceal the mana…’ he repeated like a mantra, visualizing the effect of his bandage in the process.

That was what he wanted from the enchantments – to hide mana from Mana Sense. A simple thing, yet of immense importance to him.

Line after line, rune after rune, refill after refill, Percy kept drawing the symbols until there was no more space on the severed trunk. Even Micky had grown bored of watching him at some point, now leisurely cleaning his feathers with his beak.

“How long has it been?”

“Couple hours?” the bird shrugged.

Percy nodded. He didn’t even know if any of the enchantments were functional. Some of them should have been – after all, most of them looked about right by now. Though he’d long decided to stop checking after each attempt, to save himself some time and frustration. His plan was to keep at it for a few more days before examining the results.

“Ok, I’ll head back then.” he said.

He could’ve spent some more time in the swamp if he wanted, but he still had to work in the forge during the days – not to mention brewing more Aurora Dew for the three of them. It would probably serve him better to get himself some sleep.

Percy took a few breaths, gathering mana for Synchronization, when Micky stopped him.

“Leave it…” he said, activating his own boosting art.

“Thanks.” Percy said, waving him farewell as he turned away.

He heard the sound of wood breaking, as Micky disposed of the evidence of his runecrafting training. On the way to the town, Percy couldn’t help but throw a glance at the eastern side of the swamp, contemplating a certain rumour he’d heard from the townsfolk. Apparently, a tribe of trolls lived inside the furthest reaches of the Grisly Bog.

Trolls were semi-sentient creatures, much like the wood goblins he had encountered before. Though they were much larger and fiercer. They tended to be born at Orange more often too. Naturally, they still weren’t a match for Percy, nor would they make particularly good meals for his familiar, but that wasn’t what interested him.

‘Should I try making clones out of them?’

Semi-sentients – or demi-humans as they were often referred on Remior – had drawn the short end of the cosmic stick. Smack in the middle between beasts and sentients, they were cursed with the worst aspects of both worlds. They lacked the miraculous affinity that gave beasts their strength, and also the intelligence to make proper use of the other mana types.

However, they were in many ways perfect for Percy’s current needs. Sporting humanoid bodies, developed vocal cords, opposable thumbs, Orange cores, and elemental affinities, he would have an endless array of decent hosts to take to the Vault. Even better, he could pick and choose the best ones, selecting affinities that suited him – a luxury he wasn’t used to. That ought to give him a leg up in the combat challenges.

‘There are plenty of problems with that idea though…’

If he did this, he would be missing out on the chance of stumbling upon something valuable out there. Everything his clones had ever brought back had been a pure coincidence, so he didn’t want to stop rolling the dice on that. After all, he hadn’t forgotten about the Rings of Sacrilege, nor the powerful Decrees waiting for him all over the universe.

And then, there was the issue with opening a portal on Remior. While he was 90% certain that Metatron had no intention, nor the ability to do anything untoward, he wasn’t comfortable taking that risk. Perhaps, he might have – had it just been his own life on the line – but he’d never forgive himself if he ended up dooming his friends and family out of greed.

‘Let’s not... though it’s still worth paying the trolls a visit at some point.’

If he got lucky, one of them might have an interesting affinity for him to play around with. So far, all his clones had ended up with common ones, which he felt was a waste of his bloodline’s potential. At the very least, it would serve him well to understand how some of the more exotic mana types worked, in case he ran into another enemy like that time mage.

Reaching the town, he made sure nobody was up as he snuck into the house, trying not to wake Nesha. She was sleeping on her bed – they’d managed to buy a couple old ones – though the single room in their house was starting to look a little cramped. At least, they didn’t have many possessions, and the hut’s convenient location meant they could relieve themselves outside.

Still, being a hybrid between a bedroom and a blacksmithing workshop, it was impossible for Nesha to sleep while Percy worked. The heat from the furnace took hours to disperse afterwards too.

‘We should expand the house a little at some point…’

Picking a bucket of water, he stepped outside before dousing himself, trying to get rid of some of the swamp’s stench. Then he took his boots off, jumping into his own bed. Next, he groaned, calculating he only had a couple hours left until daybreak.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

‘Uuugghh… so much for taking it easy this time…’