Book 2: Chapter 48: Ill-Gotten

  “Where are you going? You can barely walk, meatsack,” Obby floated around his shoulders, following as he trudged along on his unsteady feet.

  He left the medical tent still exhausted, body strained beyond a breaking point. But Alex forced himself to move anyway, dragging his battered body through the warcamp with the single-mindedness of a man who had nothing left to prove and everything left to win.

  The ground was muddy underfoot, turned half-frozen from the northern chill and streaked with dark trails from blood, boots, and beast-gore. Every few steps sent a fresh jolt through tired bones. Something clicked in his shoulder every time he moved it too far, but he didn’t stop.

  He couldn’t stop, not while the echo of his own failure still rang louder than the memories of the battlefield screams.

  Soldiers still awake in the night, watched him. Whispers followed in his wake like high circling scavenger birds.

  “Is that him?”

  “Didn’t the prince flatten him?”

  “He’s the one that fought him, the Soaring Heir.”

  He didn’t look at them as he passed. He knew what they saw in him, a limping, bloodied mess of a man with a haunted look and too many scars, too many broken bones. But his eyes weren’t broken, they were locked ahead, focused on single tent.

  The two sentries at the entrance shifted as he approached. One stepped forward to stop him,

  Alex didn’t slow down. He shouldered past the sentry and shoved aside the tent flap with one arm, the other half-dangling at his side, and stepped into the golden flicker of lamplight.

  Inside, a cluster of officers looked up from a wide-spread war map. Topographical ridges, unit markers, it was all there. Captain Tharek Drenn stood at the head, hands braced on the table.

  Alex said nothing. He didn’t salute. Didn’t speak. Instead, he just stared at the man like he was trying to burn a hole through the space between them and into his skull. Drenn’s lips tightened. The silence stretched uncomfortably, then the Captain raised one finger, pointed to the officers.

  “Out.”

  They filed out in a silent shuffle without any argument, casting sideways glances at Alex like he might suddenly implode. The tent flap closed behind them.

  Drenn folded his hands behind his back and waited. Alex limped one step forward, then another before straightening to his full height. “I need a wyvern.”

  There was no apology in his voice for barging in, no explanation, just a statement made with the same intensity as a man asking for a glass of water after crawling out of a burning house.

  Drenn tilted his head. “You want to ride one?”

  “I want to kill it,” Alex said flatly. “I’m going to kill it for an experiment.”

  The captain stared at him intensely. One could almost hear the “what the hell happened to you” behind his eyes.

  “…You understand my hesitancy since, we don’t get the mount back if that’s the plan.”

  Alex nodded. “I figured.”

  Drenn let out a low breath. He glanced once at the map, then back at Alex. He waited for the captain to make a decision, never looking away. Eventually, he guessed the captain could see the determination in his stare, the fiery passion of self-loathing and wrath behind his eyes that Alex was trying to squelch.

  “Fine. I’ll put in the requisition.” A beat passed. “But you’d better pray the quartermaster doesn’t ask questions.”

  Alex didn’t smile, but a weight shifted off his shoulders. “I also need something else,” he said.

  Drenn’s eyes narrowed. “More than a wyvern?”

  Alex hesitated for a moment, knowing his next request even made him question his sanity already, so he knew how Captain Drenn would look at him. “This one… you’re not going to like.”

  He stepped forward again, just barely managing to stay upright, and met the Captain’s gaze dead-on. “I need the body,” he said…

  “… of your strongest fallen soldier.”

  ***

  Within twenty-four hours, Alex got what he asked for, even if Captain Drenn would never look at him the same way again. He ignored that, and focused on his plans moving forward. There was so much for him to do, Alex had to write down the steps in his notebook, and even then it was hard to keep everything straight.

  “No better time to get started than now,” Obby chimed in his mind. “You’ve put off every aspect of your growth to focus on the others and ensure their safety in this war. You’ve not even spent your experience points, again.”

  I know, I know, okay. It’s just, there was a lot going on, lot of things on my mind. Not dying, being the biggest one.

  He really had been rather busy once they set boots on the front lines. It was a constant slog of fighting, death, eating, then keeping lookout for more fighting, and more death. But, if there was one thing Alex had learned about the bloodbath that Terraxum called a war, it was good for earning experience points.

  Almost reluctantly, he brought up all the past kill notification he had been pushing away since it all started. He was excited, and dismayed, by what he saw.

  Fuck… He swiped away the screen in disgust. Just a couple months ago, he had always been filled with a sense of accomplishment and pride when he saw his experience pool rising. Now, with it being filled with the death of other humans, just like himself, like his friends… it felt like he was being paid in blood diamonds, with the red stains still on them.

  “That is the nature of the world. You think Arcane Beasts don’t gain anything when they kill you meatsacks? Or when they kill their fellow beasts? You arent’ doing this for sport Alex, you’re doing it keep your friends alive, remember? At least that’s what I heard you keep telling yourself everyday.” Once again, Obby was his chief motivator.

  He hated admitting when the stupid rock was right. He wanted to feel bad, wanted to hate himself for what he was doing. But Obby was spot on, because he was doing it to make sure it wasn’t his friends that got farmed out for experience points instead.

  But it’s still blood on my hands.

  “Yes, and you’re going to be getting a shit ton more before that Trial timer hits zero. So get your shit together.” The little rock’s voice was suddenly serious, firm, like that of a parent scolding a whiny child. It was a sudden shift that jolted Alex.

  Yeah, yeah, okay I got it… speaking of getting hands dirty.

  He looked over at the cloth wrapped bundle that sat next to him in the secluded field. He began removing the white fabric reverently. Not because the fabric was important, but because what was inside it, the body he had asked for.

  Alex stared down at the man that lay in front of him. He had a large hole through the center of his chest, presumably the reason for his death, but he otherwise looked pristine. A sleeping form with a rough chiseled face, wearing the standard Terraxum armor and insignia denoting his rank as a sergeant. He looked not a day after thirty years old, but Alex knew that with increased vitality and aether energy coursing through his body, the man could have been decades older.

  Despite all this, looking down at the man caused Alex’s stomach to flip inside out, and all the blood rush away from his skin in a heart dropping feeling of remorse, layered over disappointing loss. He recognized the man immediately.

  Sergeant Korran, I’m sorry you didn’t make it through with us.

  The memory of fighting the sergeant in the regiment’s training ring during their travels climbed its way to the forefront of his mind. The man had been strong, and determined to a fault, he had even beaten Alex in that fight, even if he was trying to stall for time instead of actually winning. Still, it was quite the feat in his mind. It was upsetting to know even men like the sergeant were not immune to the ravages of an apathetic battlefield.

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  He looked down at the man for a few more minutes before finally breathing deeply and getting back tot he task at hand. He couldn’t waste time on sentiments for the fallen right now, he to work on making sure his friends didn’t join sergeant Korran’s fate.

  It was a slow process of removing the man’s armor and clothing, but Alex eventually got an unobstructed view of his entire torso, neck and arms. This is what he needed, because this was where the man’s tattoos were located.

  It had been a long ongoing obsession for Alex to study these tattoos up close. To the point he had thought of various crazy plans that would allow him to do so, up to and including, seducing one of the Terraxum princesses.

  Now, he had his chance, and turned out all he had to do was ask… and ruin a professional military relationship with his immediate commanding officer. A small price to pay, really.

  “At least you are not doing to this unfortunate fleshsack, what we did to that wyvern.” Obby had lost his serious tone once more.

  Please be serious here, this was a respectable man.

  He paused a moment to wrangle Obby in. But a quick glance at the large metallic barrel that sat a few feet away was all it took for Alex to, once again, realize that Obby was right. He had done something rather gruesome to that beast, he should be thanking whatever gods there were in this world he didn’t have to do anything like that to Korran’s body in order to research the tattoos.

  He shook his head and got back to the task. He pulled out his notebook once more, as well as his Glyph Stylus, Echo Lens and Sylvaris’ scroll. All were items he would need or reference as he looked over the tattoos.

  Ready?

  “Absolutely. Let’s ogle a dead man.”

  The actual studying process wasn’t that hard. It took time, far more time than Alex had first anticipated. With his aether sight active, Obby’s assistance, and constant use of his echo lens, he slowly began to decipher the functions and method of the tattoos.

  He had to go through section by section, limb by limb, as the entirety of the glyph construct was too much for him to handle. Obby constantly pointed out things he had missed as he took notes and drew diagrams. And he had to reference the scroll nearly non-stop to confirm ideas and theories.

  Six hours later though, and Alex had finally learned what was happening with these tattoo glyphs. He carefully re-wrapped Korran’s body, now done with his macabre task.

  Okay, so its a slow refinement effect. They absorb earth attuned aether through the tattoo’s focal draw rune, it gets separated down even further into different aspects, filtered and recombined in distinct ratios, then spread through out the body’s various systems to be absorbed by their tissues. Alex though everything through as he looked back over his notes.

  “Excess aspects, and non-earth aether is expelled at the end. Causing a huge efficiency loss. So the effect is slow, horribly slow, but it does work.” Obby added, tapping a long far-too-stretched finger at different spots on his notebook where he had drawn the tattoos.

  That’s not a problem we will have, given my body seems to want to absorb any energy I feed it anyway. He clicked his tongue in thought for a few long moments before continuing. And, we aren’t trying to replicate the refinement process anyway, my Aether Attuned Body does that already too. We just want the to steal the backbone of the design. Same foundation, different house.

  “Well, that’s the next step then.”

  He looked up at the sky, finding that the sun had crept its way to the center of the large black void, meaning it was around noon. He still had plenty of time, but he also still had so much to do.

  Breaks had never been a part of his work ethic before, so he wasn’t going to start now. The notebook’s page turned as Alex began sketching out his design based on what he had just learned. Crafting a new Glpyph was something Alex had done before, it wasn’t necessarily hard, and technically, any new effect constructed through Glyphcraft was a “new glyph”. The process of creating a new spell on the other hand, was far more involved.

  First was figuring out the aether pattern for the spell. Then there was figuring out the medium of casting. For this particular spell, Alex would be doing something strange, attaching the medium to a physical portion of his body, just like the Terraxum tattoos had been the medium of the soldiers body refinement.

  Lastly, there was the spells’ intent. This was the trickiest part. As a spell intent could be changed and tweaked each time a spell was cast. So it had to be malleable, but it couldn’t amorphous or The System wouldn’t receive a designated desired effect, and the spell would fail. There was a balancing act that had to be mastered in this area.

  Luckily for Alex, he was crafting this spell specifically for himself, and he knew exactly how he would be using it. So it was cheating when compared to crafting a spell for a single element, to be used by anyone of that element, for different possible desired uses.

  Regardless, there was a lot trial and error that was involved, and a lot of wasted aether-glyph ink as he had to alter and correct various markings he was placing on his body to figure out it’s effects. Not to mention, the sheer amount of damage he caused his body when things didn’t go exactly as planned, as was often the case.

  He had a small pile of empty healing potion vials accumulating by the end of his crazed experiments. But, he had done it. His efforts were confirmed by The System with a chime and a notification.

  The first few notification were a happy surprise. He was glad to have earned some experience points, that weren’t tied to bloodshed, after so long. It did make him wonder why there was no [Spellcraft] skill like there was [Glyphcraft] or [Alchemy]. But after some thought, he realized there really wouldn’t be any progression for the skill. Crafting a Beginner Spell would make it a Beginner Skill. Crafting a Novice Spell would then just make it a Novice Skill. And so on, and so forth. There wouldn’t be much nuance and progression to it like Blacksmithing or Woodworking would.

  To top is off, the spell itself was better than Alex had expected as well. He didn’t think he would have crafted his very first Novice ranked spell, on his very first attempt as a custom spell. But when it came to the Heavenly System, Alex had long ago learned not to look a gift dragon in the mouth. Now though, he was dying to try it out.

  Unlike before, when he learned a spell with a tome or scroll, there was no huge rush of knowledge about its effects. He already knew how the spell worked and how to activate it, as he created the spell in the first place. But, he did get some knowledge feedback from The System anyway. Mostly on the downsides that came with it.

  He could feel that activating the spell would be easy enough, but the strain it would put on is body, and the resulting backlash was not to be ignored. It would be nothing as severe as his [Descending Demon Fist], which left him nearly helpless after activation, even when at peak condition, and instead would be more like the strain he got after a long fight on the battlefield.

  A minor physical drain, a lethargy which one could push through if they needed to, but not for very long.

  All this being said, he would have to only use the spell in short bursts, being strategic and tactful when he activated it. There was also the issue of energy consumption, as a Novice spell, it cost much more than his beginner ranked spells. If he used every bit of aether in his body, he could possibly keep it active for thirty seconds, no more. But that would leave him drained physically, from the backlash of the spell on top of the weakness he got when his body’s aether was all used up.

  Okay then. Short bursts only, maximum thirty seconds if I have to, and only utilize aether drawn from the gems in my bracer so I don’t completely collapse right afterward.

  “That’s a lot of weaknesses. Are you sure this was a good idea? How useful is a spell that you can barely use, really be?”

  Alex didn’t answer be saying anything. He still had the glyph ink marking drawn on his body, which was the medium for the spell. So instead, he answered Obby’s question but just showing him.

  He pulled energy from his bracer, cycling it into the spell pattern in a quick burst of control. All instantly, the spell activated, the marking along his skin lighting up and a rush of aether flooding through his body in a specific sequence.

  The spell lived up to its name, as while active, Alex’s body was covered in a shimmering haze aura of azure-blue energy that swam across his skin and rolled off his back in a trail that looked like an ethereal cloak.

  But the visual effects was the least of what made the spell great.

  A simple push-off from his heel compacted the dirt beneath him, and then cracked the stone further below that. Alex was gone in a blur, launched across the empty field so quickly it would have been hard for even Adept Warriors to follow the movement.

  From Alex’s view, things seemed to slow drastically. The wind whipping across his face, arms and clothing felt like a crawl. The normal acceleration blur to his vision was gone, allowing him to see every detail around him perfectly despite his speed. And his thoughts raced as he analyzed his movements and body.

  This must be the boosted mental capacity the spell description mentioned.

  It was an effect that he hadn’t designed or anticipated, but made sense. The aether was boosting all of his physical body, so that meant his brain and nervous system as well.

  He stopped his movement suddenly, wind moved around his form in a torrent as it tried to keep up with him. Dirt and grass sprayed into the air from his rapid deceleration and showered the area.

  Amazing, it feels like I could tear a Den Mother Badger in half with my bare hands.

  He looked down at the upturned dirt at his feet and smiled before crouching and slamming his fist down into the ground.

  He lost his footing for a moment as the earth below him crumbled and was blasted away. He fell a few inches, landing in the crater he had just made from a mere punch. It was a level of strength that made his raise a brow.

  Not [Descending Demon Fist] level, but maybe a fourth of that. A third? I’ll have to do more tests.

  He looked at his hand and arm, finding that the increased strength he felt hadn’t overcome his increased durability. His skin was scratched, but nothing more, and he felt no cracks or breaks in his bones, no torn muscles.

  A simple thought ended the aether flow of the spell, and the aura streaming off his body died away, along with the painted glyphs he mad made on his skin. He smiled briefly, then he fell to his knees and gasped.

  “Holy shit,” he spoke between large breaths, “that really is a drain.”

  Perhaps a bit of fatigue wasn’t the right way to think about the spell’s weakness. He felt like he had worked his body at the gym for a full day, far too hard. His skin itched, his muscles throbbed, and every bone in his arms, legs and back felt bruised.

  “Not so hot now, are you?”

  Its more intense than I thought, it just surprised me. I can deal with it.

  It took a couple more seconds for him to catch his breath before he could stand up again, but he still felt like he could move and fight if he really needed to. In a life or death situation, the period of weakness after the [Vita-surge Cloak] would be dangerous, but it wouldn’t leave him helpless.

  I think it turned out better than I expected, without a doubt.

  “You’re marking are gone now though, the energy burned through the painted ink quickly, making it a one-time effect, even if used in a small burst.” Obby pointed out.

  I know.

  “Are you going to follow in the footsteps of Teraxum and get permanent tattoos? It make you look more intimidating.”

  No, I have a far better idea than that. And actually, now that my [Glyphcraaft] skill has ranked up, its the perfect time.

  “Oh, are you saying what I think you’re saying, fleshsack?” Obby’s illusion body bobbed up and down in front of him in excitement.

  He chuckled at the stone’s childish antic.

  “It’s time to perform my next body enchantment, Obby.”