Weapons of Mass Destruction

Chapter 211: Spellsmith

“You can't be serious, feral one. This is not something that's simple to do, nor is it something to joke about.” Myrra waves her hand, gesturing at something.

I stay silent.

“The Calamity can't be killed, and it doesn't matter if it's The Colony, The Living Tree, or The Fallen Hero. None of them can be killed by us, not anymore.”

I continue to listen.

“Do you even have any idea how many times we have tried? Even before I was born, there were hundreds of attempts, yet every single one failed, leaving us weaker and weaker. No one will join you and…”

“I will kill it alone.”

She pauses, and the air becomes heavy, the silence taking over the room. Her eyes seem to be trying to bore holes into my head.

“Obviously, I need some time to prepare. Most likely several months for preparations, and then help to get there. After that, everyone can leave.” I return her gaze and notice that she's looking at my veins, my chest, my eyes.

Is she trying to gauge if I'm lying, to see if my pulse has increased?

“Feral one, I do think you are powerful, but what you're saying is... impossible. Moreover, you've already annoyed multiple powerful people, and they'll see it as you dangling a promise you don't intend to keep, just to buy some time from their revenge.”

“Then just help me set up a meeting with these people and let them decide after hearing me out. That much should be simple to do,” I shrug my shoulders.

I watch as Myrra's tail sways from side to side, this time in an annoyed manner. Damn, I really want to touch that tail and pull on it.

“How do you plan to kill the Living Tree?” she asks me.

I stay quiet, and Myrra seems to grow even more annoyed.

It's quite funny, to be honest. No matter how much she likes to observe people and their reactions to surprises or new things, she gets annoyed if she doesn't understand or can't control something. I think that's a trait many powerful people share – people not used to being denied or not being in control.

“Just imagine, Myrra. The old capital without the Calamity defending it. All the items, all the riches, all that history. I'm sure some powerful people escaped with their items, but our last expedition showed that there's still plenty left,” I tap on my chest pocket where I'm hiding a mana core sphere and gesture at the sword I hold.

I'm curious if that might interest her. She has some nice items and likes to wear expensive clothes and jewelry.

I watch her a bit longer and then change my mind, no, I don't think so. Myrra wants something else.

“Imagine living during the era when one of the Calamities fell. You being one of the few lynthari that helped with that,” I lower my voice to a whisper and move a bit closer to her, “maybe we could even do it secretly, without other lynthari knowing” I say.

She is dead silent, with neither her tail nor her ears moving. She just stares at me, her breathing speeding up almost imperceptibly, but I can see it while in my [Focus].

“Myrra, can you imagine yourself coming to the other lynthari after everything is done and telling them the Calamity is dead?” my voice is so quiet I can barely hear it, but I'm sure she can, “Imagine observing all those lynthari. Most of them hundreds of years old, experienced, bored. Imagine all of them reacting – shocked, panicking, curious, annoyed, angered. All of them.”

Her eyes are dreamy, her mouth slightly open.

“And then there's you, Myrra, a lynthari who helped make it happen. Who saw it happen.” I whisper in her ear, “And I'll be there with you. A human who accomplished all of that, walking by your side, treating you with respect, complimenting you, saying that it would be impossible without…”

Out of nowhere, she shoves me away, and I absorb my inertia to make myself stop before hitting the wall.

Myrra is staring at me. She's breathing heavily, audibly enough for me to hear. Her tail is oddly twisted, and her ears are lowered.

“Dangerous, you are very dangerous, feral one,” she displays her sharp canines, as if ready to attack me. Her mana is swirling wildly.

Before I can say anything else, she swiftly turns to leave, “I'll think about it and will let you know in a few days!”

Myrra disappears, almost as if running away.

I've always been good at reading people. There are certain feelings that I read well, and some not as much. Sometimes I detect a feeling they have, but I can't comprehend it.

For instance, there's Min-Jae. I know he views me somewhat like an older brother; he looks up to me to the point where I've noticed him observing my movements and mimicking some of my behaviors. He adopts a similar stance, tries to have a similar haircut, or wears clothes akin to mine. He constantly observes me, as if trying to learn.

Min-Jae admires me. I can discern that much, but I don't understand why.

Sure, I'm stronger than him, and I'm also handsome, not to mention the high amount of the best stat that I possess. But I'm also moody, arrogant, and at times so erratic that I've been labeled a psychopath or sociopath on multiple occasions. I'm petty, obsessive when I focus on something... perhaps I should stop, I'm beginning to feel bad.

So yes, some parts of me are far from desirable. Yet the naive boy, even aware of these traits, continues to envy me, a sentiment confirmed by his sub-class.

I can read people, and even attempt to manipulate them a bit, but I do so infrequently. And unlike Tess or Izzy, I'm not as formidable.

It was enjoyable to see Myrra react the way I anticipated. Given her reaction, I should expect her visit in a few days, but before that, I'll take some time away from group 4. I'll also avoid the community and just unwind.

Once more, I blend into the crowds and head toward the nearest giant tree.

Giant trees and colossal disappointments.

Hehe.

Anyway, they're merely... well, big trees. They contain no mana I could feel, aren't sentient, and even their wood isn't special aside from being harder than a normal tree. There are some houses on certain branches, and to be honest, they look impressive. I'm quite wealthy currently; the number of valuables Serpent's Eye was able to obtain is astounding, so perhaps I should purchase one.

I step away from the tree and close my eyes for a moment.

It's already dark, and the ruins of whatever they once were are once again visible in the orbit, and a warm wind blows through the mostly empty streets. There are colorful soft lights glowing all around, creating a fantastical atmosphere. The leaves of the giant tree gently sway in the weak wind, and the city is pleasantly quiet.

Deciding not to sleep during my off-group-4 days, I delve deeper into the city.

After a few more minutes of walking, I stop in front of one of the buildings, sensing interesting mana movement inside of it.

The side of the building is open, offering an entrance inside to what looks like a simple workshop. Even though it's so late, it's open, and there's an older human man working inside.

Led by curiosity, I enter, and the moment I step into the area, the crystal I notice nearby detects my presence and sends a signal toward the bracelet on the man's hand.

“Just a moment,” he shouts from the inside, continuing to work on something on the table I can't see because of his back.

While observing the way he moves his mana, I wait.

It takes thirty minutes, and only then does he sigh and step away from the item. He then takes another one, about to get back to work, but that's when I let out a cough, and he turns around, surprise evident on his face.

Did he really forget about me?

“Oh, I totally forgot about you!” he exclaims, an unapologetic smile on his face.

He takes a step towards me, an older man with graying hair, thin and moving slowly.

[Spellsmith - lvl 78]

“So what do you want, young man?” There's a hint of impatience I can discern in his voice. He surely wants to get back to working on the item.

“You made a mistake while working on that item,” I tell him.

He tilts his head in surprise and then laughs, “There's no way. Do you know how many items…”

I interrupt him, “You were aiming to turn the mana stone into a heater, but when you activated it to test it, the heat wasn't continuous but was sent in pulses.”

That gets a laugh out of him and a curious look my way, “Young man, that's on purpose. Can you imagine how much mana it would consume if it continuously radiated heat? Like this, the effectiveness is reduced by half, but it can be powered with less than half as much mana.”

He gestures at me and leads me towards the heating mana stone on the table, “People usually don't have as much mana as you might think, so even that is plenty,” the old man points at the stone, and I touch it, observing the circuits he etched.

They're similar to when I play around with mana stones, or when trying to create coordinates, or what I did to get through the barrier.

“Wouldn't efficiency be even better with a higher value mana stone?” I ask. The stone he's using is one of the cheapest ones.

“It would,” he nods, “but it would also be much more expensive and take longer.”

“Longer?” I ask.

“Obviously longer. The better the mana stone, the harder it is to work with them, to force your circuits and etch them inside. More valuable stones have some resistance, and it's hard to infuse your mana into them and then even harder to etch the pathways.”

He puts a few stones on the table. The highest value ones could be around ten thousand dollars' worth back on Earth and lowest value one only a few dollars.

“This one is what we usually work with. There are maybe five people who can work on more expensive ones given enough preparation and a few months of time. I think one of the best is a man called Elydor, so try looking for him if you want to learn more. There are also very few people who can even work on this one,” he shows me the one worth ten thousand dollars, “and I'm one of them.”

“I see, it really sounds respectable,” I answer him.

The entire time, I think. I did work on the mana stone that Obelia gave me. I don't even know how much it was worth, but surely much more than the one I took from Hadwin and Tess. The ones I took from them were worth one or two hundred thousand dollars. Yet I was able to work with them.

Is this why Obelia gave me such weird looks?

I take out one of my mana stones, the one worth ten thousand dollars, and put it in front of the man, “So how would you usually work on it? Let's say I want to make a heating stone from it.”

“Well, young man, I would call you dumb and ask you why you need a heating stone that only people with terrifyingly high mana can feed and why you need to heat up or burn an entire house,” he smiles at me while reaching towards the stone and gestures for me to watch.

The older man is not careful at all; there isn't even a speck of distrust, nor is he worried about the mana stones he put on the table.

He just seems genuinely happy to talk about his craft and share some knowledge.

“You seem to be well off, so forgive me for actually taking your word and showing you how it works on something so wasteful,” he seems excited.

“Not a problem,” I answer him.

I know that the moment we etch the circuits, it will be difficult to use the stone for anything else. It's impossible to delete them and start over with the stone. You can only build on what's already etched or scratch it, leaving imperfections on the stone. That's something I have learned from my testing.

Curious to see how it's traditionally done, I watch as he does it, carefully and precisely, doing calculations where I did it by feel. He explains how some things change from stone to stone and identifies the imperfections each stone has and how to avoid the most common ones.

He shares all his knowledge without any worry in the world, voicing things I was always curious about and explaining things I had noticed and how they usually work around them.

Where I was guided by feel and by what I learned from ruining mana stones, he follows knowledge.

Not noticing the passage of time, we spend hours working on the stone, changing it, improving it, and clashing in our opinions, and I would like to say that I have shown him something new, just as he taught me a lot. I absorb all that knowledge, and it doesn't even feel forced. For me, it's fun the same way moving mana is. I'm creating something new, something with my own powers.

When I finally notice the passage of time, it's already morning. We spent the entire night working on the mana stone, and in the end, it's not just a simple heater.

“Well, if it isn't the most efficient heating stone there ever was,” he giggles excitedly like a small child.

Thermal Mana Core (rare):A refined variant of its lesser counterpart, this mana crystal boasts expertly crafted circuits. When filled with mana, it emanates a warmth, enhancing its heat-transmuting capabilities.

The stone we worked on now can extremely efficiently turn mana into heat. Where smaller stones waste around 40% of mana, this one wastes only around 5%.

Another thing is that it can handle much more mana, and someone with a big enough mana pool most likely can use it to melt iron or burn an entire building. It's like gaining a fire skill of their own; the only disadvantage is that that person would be in the heat as well.

“Thank you,” I answer honestly. I have learned a lot from the old man.

I put two mana stones of the same value we worked on, on the table, and he immediately starts complaining.

“No, no, I can't take it, that's too much. Just…” he says, seemingly embarrassed.

“I'm rich,” I tell him simply.

He stops in shock, staring at me like I'm some weird animal, and then starts laughing.

“In that case, I would like one more,” the old man says cheekily.

Oh, I quite like him.

“Two more, and I'll be taking some of your smaller stones,” I say as I put out two more mana stones.

“Deal,” he says, a smile still on his face.