I used magic to expand the reach and explosive quality by thousands, hence why she’d assu it was a spell doing it.
"Oh..." She seed both relieved and slightly disappointed, "I almost started to think you were truly so type of variant just now. But still, that was an impressive feat, Benjamin. You are a remarkable mage."
"Ahaha, thanks."
When should I tell her that Lotus put through the wringer until all my spells were wordless and without incantations (even though hers weren’t)?
I bet she’d start looking at differently. I don’t want them to think I’m so god figure and start becoming distant.
But looking back at what was supposed to be nothing more than a roasted woman lying in a smoking crater, I instead saw the Eldest Born standing completely unhard, her tall, imposing silhouette frad against the scorched plain.
She was calmly watching with those unnerving golden pupils that seed to pierce straight through the distance between us.
Her right hand, now blackened and charred down to the bone in places, was still outstretched exactly where my fireball had struck.
Charred flesh peeled away in thin wisps of smoke, yet she showed no sign of pain; she neither groaned, nor grimaced.
And around her feet, a towering ring of heavy, roaring flas burned in a perfect circle, the fire so intense that the air above it warped and shimred like heat rising from sun-baked asphalt.
The flas licked upward in hungry tongues of orange and violet, casting flickering shadows across her emotionless features.
She twisted her wrist with deliberate slowness, her fingers curling inward until her hand clenched into a tight fist.
The mont her grip tightened, the encircling inferno responded as though it were an extension of her body.
The flas began to swirl violently, spiraling inward in a tightening vortex, colors bleeding from bright orange into deep crimson and then into an almost liquid black at the center.
One by one, the towering pillars of fire bent toward her clenched hand like water being drawn down a drain.
They collapsed inward with a low, roaring whoosh, sucked completely into her palm until not even a spark remained floating in the air.
The blackened skin of her hand cracked audibly, fresh grey flesh bubbling up beneath the char, knitting itself back together in seconds.
Veins of dull gold pulsed beneath the regenerating tissue as her aura spiked—nacing, sudden, and oppressive—like a pressure wave rolling outward across the battlefield.
Mhm. Terrible idea.
It was an absolutely terrible idea to hit her with magic at all.
She hadn’t just survived it; she had devoured the attack whole and co out noticeably stronger with her presence heavier, and the air around her thicker with the stolen power.
But wait... let’s try it without the magic.
I focused again, this ti pulling together a much smaller fireball—barely bigger than my fist—for pure speed and kinetic force rather than raw destructive scale.
I compressed the pure fire attribute down tight, with no extra magical expansion and spell-like amplification, but just dense, screaming-hot fla wrapped in montum.
And with a sharp ntal push, I launched it forward.
The shot cracked out with a deafening blast that echoed across the plain like a cannon firing.
The fireball streaked low and fast, a blazing white-orange cot trailing a thin tail of superheated air.
It tore unrelentingly through the battlefield... searing large, smoking holes straight through any Children unfortunate enough to be in its path.
Grey, bubbling bodies parted like wet paper; chunks of flesh vaporized mid-stride, black ichor flash-boiling into hissing steam that drifted upward in angry plus.
The projectile didn’t slow and didn’t waver; it didn’t lose an ounce of velocity as it closed the far distance in a heartbeat.
It hurtled straight toward the Eldest Born’s emotionless face—close enough now that I could almost see the faint reflection of my own fireball dancing in the flat gold of her pupils—until—
SLAP!
Crap...
Her hand moved with this casual, almost lazy precision.
Her open palm t the fireball in the middle of the air with a sharp, resounding crack that rang out like wet leather striking stone.
The impact flash was blinding for a split second, white light flaring outward, then the fireball simply... vanished.
She’s not the Eldest Born for nothing, I guess.
There was no explosion or scattering embers; and no backlash on her for touching such a powerful attack.
She had swatted it aside like an annoying fly buzzing too close to her ear.
The motion was so calm and effortless, that she didn’t even shift her weight or change her expression.
Her golden eyes remained locked on , unblinking, as though the attack had been beneath notice. Maybe she was daring to do better?
[Sys... is it just , or can I literally not hurt that woman?]
{Affirmative. I have been attempting to inform Master for so ti now. Anything Master throws at the eldest born—magical or physical, or anything brisk —will be devoured and used to strengthen her further. The more potent the attack, the greater the benefit she derives.}
How unfair! Then what the hell is her weakness?!
Maybe if we strip all the magic and ambient energy out of the area around her, she’d starve and wither away? Cut off her food supply entirely?
{...If I may ask a question of my own... Why is Master so intent on destroying the Eldest Born specifically?}
[No, why are you asking that so seriously all of a sudden? She’s clearly the leader of this massive gang that just showed up out of nowhere. Strike the sheeps and the shepherd will follow... or wait, is it strike the shepherd first? Either way, take out the head and the body falls apart, right?]
{Answer: then Master would achieve far better results by striking himself!}
...Kill myself?
The words hit like a slap of their own.
For the first ti in a while, I again felt sothing real and raw seep out from Sys; not the usual flat, chanical neutrality, but actual rage.
Burning, and simring, and definitely personal.
I knew that she had been changing lately, giving opinions with surprising vigor, and showing flickers of emotion that no re system chanic should possess.
And she had been especially prickly, basically sullen, ever since I created a physical vessel for Vaelora.
[Sys... if I sohow offended you—
User Comments
0 comments from readers