A/N: This is a bonus chapter, but like the others it does have some actual continuation from the previous chapter at the start and end, so I'd recommend reading it through to avoid missing out like some do with the other bonus chapters. But be patient; there are more 'conventional' chapters coming, my dear readers.
In medical news, I've got numbness in my upper-back and jaw, probably a pinched nerve or something. I'm not having a good year am I? I'll swing by the doctor's after the weekend. I'll be avoiding them for a bit as I pestered them for two days when they kept messing up my antibiotic prescription and from my experience doctors hold grudges… It could also be dangerously low potassium levels due to my Furosemide side effect. Hopefully that – at least that I can fix with a lot of spinach and supplements.
(Start of chapter)
DINGIR AVATAR STATS
Character class: Grey Mage
Rank: Pluto Knight X (Private)
Level: 21, 19030xp until next level up.
HP: 2551 / 2551
MP: 999 / 999 (maxed)
Strength: 63 (99)
Speed: 39 (35)
Spirit: 55 (59)
Magic Defence/Defence: 48 (79)
Magic: 94
Magic Evasion/Evasion: 34 (53)
Primary Weapon: Ice Brand (freeze add-on)
Secondary Weapon: Mythril Dagger
Weapons available to switch out: Iron Sword, Goblin Dagger, Javelin, Pinwheels x20
Headwear: Iron Helm + Headgear
Armour: Iron Armour + Chain Plate
Accessory: Steel Gauntlet with buckler + Leather Wrist
Skills: Minus Strike, Mental Break
Abilities: Bright Eyes, Level Up, Man Eater, Bug Killer, Grey Magic, Antibody, Bandit, Dragon Killer, Devil Killer, Undead Killer, Beast Killer
Magic: Poison, Regen, Sleep, Panacea, Osmose, Protect, Cure, Bio, Shell, Stop, Scan
Magic Stacking: Asag's Toxin – level 1 (40MP) Adel's Healing – level 1 (30MP) Hypnos Field – level 1 (50MP) Physical Barrier – level 1 (30MP) Magical Barrier – level 1/2/3 (30/60/90MP) Magic Gluttony – level 1 (20MP) Frozen Time – level 1 (40MP)
Trance: Balmung Strike, Balmung Omni, Balmung Blaster
Items: 20 D-Potions, 6 Phoenix Down, 10 P-Potion, 9 R-Potions, 30 Potions, 10 Eye Drops, 10 Echo Screen, 10 Soft, 13 Goblin Steak, Traveller's cloak, Isekai ring, silk shirt, lots of regular clothes.
Gil: 20252
A nerfed Dingir in Final Fantasy 9, seriously?
BONUS CHAPTER
Handwriting my first child a second time
The Royal visit of Queen Brahne to visit her brother-in-law King Cid the ninth had finally come to an end. Mark had done all that he could in the few hours each day he had to both prepare for the game against Kuja and dealing with Brahne's war. Mark had levelled up several times, he had purchased all the equipment he could with abilities or range he needed within the grand castle city. In the coming months without much monster killing he would endeavour to learn them all.
Additionally he had learned several new stacked spells, and when he had some alone time, Mark intended to do the same for all his other spells to see what could be achieved by modifying his mana and spells with his skills as a grey mage, he had been very careful previously with his experiments, as stacked spells were very unique, and occasionally very destructive. He needed to avoid being considered 'unique' and a 'threat' by the Queen or her clown lackeys that also reported to Kuja. But given randomly attempted stacked spells had saved his life three times recently, it would be a good idea to hike somewhere on his day off to try stacking the rest.
Mark's thoughts then turned to his potion making deal, not only could he make a lot of money synthesising items that made people better or even saved them from death. The connections he could build would be valuable for his future plans, after all once the game was over he'd vanish from this world and he couldn't take it with him. Right now he was wearing a magically made body modelled after a book character somewhat based upon himself, a little idealised, but close enough to the truth. However if he had any control of his avatar before being summoned here, he would have made a few modifications. This was certainly true after seeing Steiner in the men's communal showers; Mark wouldn't have minded some 'extra' in a certain place. Thankfully he hadn't received any criticism when dropping his trousers so he had gotten over his feeling of inadequacy fairly quickly.
Regardless to any hypothetical modifications, Mark's body wouldn't last and he planned to do some good before being sent back to Earth, (besides saving the world with the FF9 team) he was going to make a will with any unused and future funds from his cut of the sales to be used to invest in other beneficial projects. Of course that all depended on how well they sold, but the merchant's reactions were promising indicators. If they did well enough he could start early. He wasn't doing good deeds entirely out of the goodness of his heart; Mark planned to interfere in the slaughter of mist continent kingdoms as much as possible. Improved potions would help that; being trusted would help when he 'warned' them in advance of Alexandria's attacks. He couldn't change the story too much, but he could save as many innocent citizens as possible before the slaughter started.
As you can imagine living in a fake body made by a game designer/potential deity on an alien world based on a video game while working for a villainous royalty while also spying and preparing to save the world was rather stressful. There were only so many willing women, and only so many beers and cider he could drink and still work the next day. Mark needed another distraction and stress reliever, which is why he had returned to writing. He brought several small but thick journals with blank paper and used them while on guard duty outside the princess's room to rewrite his first book series, Grey Faction, remembering it almost word for word he brought his fiction into a once fictional fantasy world. He appeared in the series in a surprisingly honest cameo, (if you ignore the fantasy and magic that is) and he wanted to leave something of himself behind on Gaia. He'd likely give them to Garnet as a 17th birthday gift, something to remember him by when the game was done and Zidane returned from the Lifa tree a year after the 'plot' ended. They'd probably end up being told as play performances. Mark found the mere possibility oddly satisfying.
'Now where was I?'
And he returned to his writing…
Orange light illuminated the edges of this thunderous night sky, as beneath this celestial turmoil was a scene straight from Hell. The city was burning down. People screamed as they tried to flee, flickering flames surrounding them, engulfing them, granting both agony and death. Bullets sounded clear through the sizzling air as companions to this horror. With every second, the body count continued to rise. Demons were among them, calling the flames!
"E-Everyone...pull back!" a panicked voice shouted, but his words and squadron were swept away by a torrent of fresh flames. The whiteness of the flames showed the sheer heat that it produced, but they were unnatural, swirling and writhing like a living thing. It was hunting, chasing and killing; burning anyone it touched to cinders. Agonised screams defiled the air as the white fire claimed evermore more victims.
Amidst all this, two men casually strolled through the crumbling, ashen wreckage. With a wave of a hand, the white inferno parted, allowing them safe passage down the middle, they were the cause of this hell. Their eyes darted about their surroundings, other senses reaching out, they were searching, hunting, yet hoping their prey would come to them. This genocide was simply a means to draw out this city's master. They had a score to settle with him; Gawain – one of the Knights of the Round Table, more commonly known as the Knights of Magistas. The Magistas were a powerful organization with bases all around the world, deeply trenched in politics, military…and magic.
As for the two men…They were an intimidating sight, their faces hidden in featureless, shield-styled masks and their bodies wrapped in grey cloaks. With a sea of flames parting before them, it was as if two demons had risen from the depths. "Where the hell are they?" the taller of the two demanded, his hair was a dark brown, almost black, and his features hidden beneath a white mask, showing only his eyes, which burned with a golden, inhuman wrath.
"Don't worry," the shorter man assured calmly. He, unlike his colleague was blonde haired, blue eyed, with his features hidden by a black mask of the same style. "They'll come alright, there's no way Gawain and the others could ignore this."
"Yes, you're right, they'll come," the white masked man eventually agreed, his voice dripping with bloodlust. "I can't wait to rip them apart." It was time for their revenge. The torture, the experimentation, the humiliation, at last it would be paid back in full. This city was owned by the Magistas, many of their workers, and all of their police and military were on their payroll, they all expendable to the masked men.
Their senses sharp and focused, the masked men could faintly hear the careful placing of near-silent footsteps, amidst the sea of rubble. They could not feel the menacing presence of the knights, or one like themselves, and yet the sounds were too well hidden to be a civilian. It seemed the city had finally decided to retaliate properly. Beneath his white mask, the man grinned viciously. The two stopped, they would not walk willingly into an ambush. "Shall I take these?" he asked quietly, so they could not hear him, as his unnatural golden eyes glowed ever brighter, like headlights from the openings in his white mask.
The man in the black mask shook his head, his blonde hair messily tumbling about. "No I've got these. I can't have you wasting all your energy now."
Hidden nearby, the gunmen waited for the two, silent as they could be, breaths held until they realised that their targets had stopped, regarding exactly where they were hidden. 'Damn it, they've spotted us!' In unison they leapt up, avoiding the lingering white flames around them. There were dozens of them; each dressed in black military uniforms; rifles or machine guns in hand, hard-eyed professionals.
"Everybody fire!" their squad leader ordered, yet nobody fired, they were somehow frozen in place, they struggled to move - at least a trigger finger would do, but no, nothing.
"What the hell is this?" one of the gunmen yelled in a blind panic.
"T-That guy's a contractor-mage too!" another screamed, eyes darting about, his face pale. The man in the black mask was surrounded by a pale blue aura, his eyes glowing with the same eerie colour.
"Sorry boys, but its suicide for you all," the black masked man said with childish glee, the aura around him flaring at his 'suggestion.' In response, the gunmen's eyes grew dull as the power took effect. Their expressions of anger and terror disappeared, replaced by a calm, emotionless exterior. Unwillingly they turned to face each other, aimed, fired, and collectively collapsed to the ground.
Just like magic, for magic it was, of a sort, the contract between a human and Heaven or Hell. In exchange for great physical, mental, and magical power, one bound their fates to the inhuman. Representatives of the forces of good and evil…At least that had been the case in the ancient histories of humanity, with many of these 'contractor-mages' being viewed as demi-gods, heroes, villains, legends, some even spawning religions through their deeds. Now however, the humans sought power for their own ends, and the angels and demons began viewing contracts as a game of sorts, who had the strongest, who killed the most from the other side, as such they were left to their own devices, with tremendous power. Magistas was one such organization that gathered these extraordinary people, as were Grey Faction, the destroyers of this city.
"Talk about disturbing," the white masked man noted as he watched the soldiers tumble to the ground, heads splattering - blood spurting, killed by their own hand, but not by their own choice. This was the black masked man's power, he could read and control other people's minds; gained from a Cherubim's contract. As for his partner, he could create flames of extreme temperatures with the ability to only harm what he wished to kill. A power gained from one of Seraphim. It was with this that they'd laid bloody waste to this city.
"And turning someone into ash is better?" the other retorted with a smirk. Stepping over the corpses, they continued on their way. They would reach the 'government' building in less than ten minutes, the knights ruled from there.
The two paused in mid step as a deep, dark aura pressed down on them; it was the killing intent of a powerful warrior. "It seems that they've decided to greet us after all."
"Sure seems that way," the white masked man agreed, eager for his revenge to begin. A mere hundred yards away, atop a broken smouldering building was a man dressed in black armour, his face hidden by a helmet and visor.
"Ghost, you fool…" Gawain whispered, recognising the white flames. In the blinking of an eye, he stood before them, tall and lethal.
'Gawain!'
'He's finally here!'
Gawain stood at over six foot in height; his body was encased entirely in a black synthetic material with streamline black armour over it. The armour was shaped to fit his body, showing his compact, muscular form. Hanging from his belt on one side was medieval style broadsword, while on the other side was a strange looking silver gun with a green vial attached to the barrel.
"So the lead actor finally emerges," the black masked man commented, smiling wryly.
"Gawain, where are the other two?" the white masked man demanded, referring to the other knights assigned here alongside Gawain. Under his visor, Gawain frowned, recognising the man's voice as well.
"So it really is you; White Ghost...Andrew, to think that you'd survived." His voice was deep and melodious; but his words lacked any real emotion. The man in the white mask sighed. Unclipping the clasps of the mask, he removed it, revealing a young man, perhaps nineteen or twenty years old; his features were handsome in a sharp hawk-like way, though some would find him intimidating.
"Yeah, I did," Andrew replied, eyes glowing brighter. "I'm here to settle my score with the Magistas, and I'm starting with you."
"Don't be stupid," Gawain stated with disdain. "You should have been content that you were simply able to escape with your life, but here you are, bringing war and destruction. Do you and your masked friend believe you can overcome us?"
"Yes," Andrew declared, his body bursting into flame, he looked like a white phantom. "The two of us alone are enough to destroy everything!"
"So arrogant," noted Gawain. "Have you deluded him with words of revenge?" Gawain asked, addressing the man in the black mask, who snorted in amusement, unclipping his mask as well. He was older than Andrew by five years or so, his face was tanned and he wore a large toothy grin that contrasted with his gaze, which was bitterly cold.
"I did nothing of the sort, we just happen to want the same thing; for your organisation to disappear from this world," the blond man stated calmly, throwing his mask to the ground. "I doubt if you remember me, so I'll re-introduce myself. I'm Alex Anderson, leader of Grey Faction, a group we have made for the express purpose of destroying Magistas."
"I see," muttered Gawain, drawing the sword. "Then there's no reason to talk. I will correct the Elders, and Siegfried's mistake."
"Fine by us, I'd like to kill you before the others arrive," Alex admitted, reaching inside his grey cloak, pulling out a high calibre pistol. 'I won't lose this time!' For a brief moment they were still, silent; their muscles tense, senses sharp, weapons at the ready, their powerful auras sizzling the air around them.
"Time to die, Gawain!" Andrew roared, charging forward, a swirling orb of fire forming from his palm. Alex weaved behind Andrew, firing bullets, which Gawain deflected with the tip of his blade.
"Is that it?" Gawain asked, slashing at Andrew with dozens of fast stabs, which Andrew narrowly avoided, before blasting the knight at close range with his conjured flames. The explosion caused sent them both sprawling. However the knight's armour was designed to withstand magic and aura, and he recovered quickly. As Andrew pushed himself up, Gawain stood waiting for him, sword raised. He swung down with a helm splitting attack, trying to split Andrew's skull in two.
'Shit!'
Alex, discarding his gun, leaped between the two, if he pushed Andrew to safety, then he would have been the one cut down, so reaching his arms out, hands glowing blue. CLANG! Alex caught the blade with his bare hands, hardening them to the point of enduring the impact, while also making his aura vibrate to connect the smooth, near friction-less blade to make catching the blade possible.
"Incredible..." Gawain spat out, sensing what Alex had done with his aura to stop his sword, a level of aura control that few could manage.
"Andrew - now!" Alex yelled, holding the sword tight while grounding himself, as Gawain tried to pull himself away. Andrew jumped up into the air, creating a humongous fireball that blotted out the sky for a moment; he then condensed all those flames into a tiny incandescent orb, less than a centimetre wide, with the air appearing distorted around it.
"Take this!" Andrew shouted, driving it into Gawain's chest plate. Everything around them was obliterated in a torrent of flames as it exploded back into its original size and much further. Andrew had jokingly named the move; 'big bang' and it certainly lived up to the concept, something tiny and impossibly dense expanding with tremendous force and speed. Andrew excluded Alex from his flames effects, but the rest of the city vanished, buildings and people alike scattering into ash.
From the furthest edges of that inferno blasted out a smouldering shape, it was Gawain. 'What an incredible attack!' he thought, tumbling along the seared ground, unable to stop himself due to the momentum, while the buildings that could have stopped him were now gone. Eventually Gawain came to a skidding stop, and he lay there for a long time, his body hurting too much to even move. The armour which he wore had been made by the greatest minds in the worlds of magic and technology, and yet it couldn't fully protect Gawain from this. Eventually the realisation that they would be searching for him finally stirred him to move. He slowly forced himself to endure the horrendous aches and broken bones, shakily Gawain standing. Gawain then realised that most of his armour was had crumbled away, leaving only half his helmet, cracked gauntlets and vambrace, and his sword long gone. 'I can't believe he destroyed my anti-contractor armour...'
The flames that had destroyed the city fortunately hadn't reached as far as he had been flung, or he would be dead. He was about to flee when the flames vanished all at once, leaving a thick carpet of ash for many miles. Gawain cursed under his breath, he had been incapacitated for too long to escape. Andrew casually strolled towards him, completely confident and when he drew close, Andrew spoke. "I don't know what's tougher, you or your armour," he noted, creating another fireball.
"You've gotten stronger..." Gawain said softly, while mentally preparing himself for almost certain death at Andrew's hands. "But not enough to win against the Elders or Si-!" his words were cut off as three gunshots rapidly sounded. "G-Gah!" blood spewed from his mouth, Gawain staggered, turning to the source, to see Alex standing behind him, a smoking gun in hand. "You!"
"The plan worked after all," Alex smirked, aiming at Gawain's now exposed face. Gawain reached for his own pistol, but it had been destroyed. BANG! The knight collapsed to the ground, dead, denied a warrior's death.
"One down," Andrew laughed, biting back tears of delight as he hurried over to join Alex, he paused briefly to kick Gawain, before saying, "but I get to kill the other two here."
"Fine by me," Alex conceded, holstering his gun. "Gawain's the only one I had a personal grudge against anyways, although…" he paused to regard the miles of ashen nothingness. "You might have already gotten them with that attack."
"We'll need to check then," Andrew shrugged, though secretly pleased at the possibility, because it would mean less risk for them. As Magistas could potentially muster millions of forces against them, and no matter how strong they were, this would be neither a quick or easy campaign. "Let's go, Alex."
"I'm right behind you."
The next night that Mark had night duty, and after drinking several pints worth of coffee to force himself through a night of just standing (guarding) pretending that enduring the pain in his legs, feet, and back were needed to keep her highness safe (nonsense!) Mark really missed his soda, many a year had it kept him awake through excessive work and late nights – but here he had to make do.
Now back at guard duty, and confirming he and his (not Steiner) co-worker were alone outside the princess's chambers, Mark once again began scribbling in the leather bound journal to continue his story.
"What's that you're doing?" Haagen asked, somewhat surprised. As despite his relaxed and anti-establishment tendencies; Mark was usually one of the harder working Pluto Knights. The Queen and the General hated him for some reason, but the Captain and Princess were clearly fond of him. Typically on night duty, Mark was super vigilant, almost a match for their overbearingly devoted Captain Steiner.
"Writing to ease my boredom, I used to do it a lot when I was younger." Mark replied – the truth followed by a lie. "It proved helpful when I was later made an apprentice Scribe." That was his established background story in this world. Treno Scribe turned failed travelling merchant, turned Pluto Knight. In reality he had been a weekend private decorator, a paper boy, a salesman, store supervisor, and after the first one – writing all the way.
"Make sure to stay focused, nobody ever tries to break in, but one of the castle guards might spot you doing that."
"Yes sir." Mark jokingly saluted, as unlike himself; Haagen had gotten the promotion… poxy fat ass queen.
Later, while Mark was scribbling away, obviously lost in his hobby, Haagen silently threw a punch into Mark's blind spot, his armoured limb hugging the wall to do so. Despite being fully engrossed in his writing, Mark's head tilted, the fist missed – no Haagen intended to pull it anyway as a warning – pay attention. Haagen then noticed the quill Mark was using; its point was millimetres from his eye.
"Don't worry," Mark said calmly. "I can multi-task; I'm still paying attention to the surroundings."
A trickle of sweat ran down Haagen's face, though relaxing when the quill returned to his original position away from his eyeball. "Good," he eventually said, returning to his original guarding position. "But if you get caught, it's on your head, Private."
"Of course, Corporal."
Scribble…
Scribble…
Scribble…
Scribble…
"Professor Siegfried, it's happening again!" a lab assistant shouted. Inside the observation cell was their latest specimen; V-7 was dying. V-7 was a middle-aged man that they had dragged off the streets for experimentation. He thrashed about violently on the cell floor, with blood streaming from his ducts like tears. His skin was slowly turning an ugly grey colour, like rotting flesh, interspersed with patches of red on his face and forearms. Smoke was now spewing heavily from his ears and mouth, as though a fire was burning its way out from the inside out, and likely was.
"Ahhhhhraaaaooouuuu!" V-7 screamed with a mindless, agony-ridden howl.
Outside of the cell, the scientists ran about in a panic, trying to figure out a solution to prolong the subject's life. "All of you, shut your mouths, you're professionals, experts, now kindly act the part!" snapped an irritated voice, thick with authority, they all turned towards the speaker; he was slightly above average height and had a warrior's build, which conflicted with his apparel as a scientist. He had black hair and bronze skin, his eyes were golden in colour, and his features had a subtle wildness to them.
"Sir, V-7 is having a violent reaction to the original's cells. His body just won't adapt, the transplanted cells and aura are rejecting him," said the lab assistant who had called for him.
"I see...that's a pity," Siegfried murmured absently, pushing past the throng of scientists and researchers. Reaching the cell, he crouched down, watching the unfortunate subject in his final moment of agony. Siegfried was calm, showing none of the panic the others had. "I had hoped that you would provide me with better results than the last five, goodbye V-7," he said quietly as the subject died, his last words garbled and unheard. Siegfried stood, turning to face one of his assistants, a petite, mousy haired woman. "How many injections did V-7 receive and remain stable after the skin graft and transfusions?" he enquired.
"Four, sir," she answered.
"That's one less than the last subject...so does the person's will-power really affect the reaction to the change?" Siegfried wondered aloud for the others benefit. All the experiments shared blood type, race, and gender with the original donor, and yet rejection and death always eventually occurred. "For our next specimen we will need someone with far greater physical and mental strength. Evans, go kidnap someone."
Young Evans, who was shuffling through a table of paperwork, looked up, startled. "Shall I go immediately?"
"Yes now, and take two security personnel with you. Be back with a suitable candidate within the next four hours."
"Right, I'll be on my way," Evans replied, abandoning his paperwork with a relieved flourish and all but sprinting away to commandeer some muscle.
"Alright people, stop standing around and gaping like idiots and get back to work!" Siegfried demanded, loudly clapping his hands together for emphasis. Scrambling about, they returned to their many duties. 'Looks like we'll have to use V-1 for the primary exhibition after all, that twit won't be happy...' Siegfried thought sourly, before going back to his own work. There was no time to waste, and he couldn't use his secret experiments or methods for the exhibition, or the Elders would find out. 'How troublesome...'
"Is it just me or are all of our missions lately about stopping faux-contractors?" Andrew complained, as he relaxed comfortably on the couch in their lounge.
"They've gotten better with the process, so obviously there's going to be more of them," Alex replied, who was wearing his usual Hawaiian shirt and jean shorts. He continued typing away on his laptop, his eyes never leaving the screen. "No matter how many we kill, Magistas and their allies will just make more."
"So who's hiring us this time?" Andrew asked, not pleased to have another mission so soon, having only been back home for a few hours since his last mission.
"The NPA," Alex answered, sitting down next to him, while continuing to type away. "It seems there's another faux-contractor causing trouble in their area."
"The National Police Agency...that's in Japan, right?" Andrew asked Alex for confirmation, he received a nod in return. "So why are they asking for our help?" he continued.
"It's pretty far I'll admit, but they're running low on their own contractor-mages, so the NPA is hiring us to do the job instead."
"So what's the story?" Andrew enquired.
"Initially they were investigating a serial killer in Osaka; they were close to issuing a warrant for his arrest, when suddenly known contractor-mages started appearing among his victims. In response they sent their own contractor-mages to arrest him, however they've since vanished."
"Do you think Magistas or another group are using this guy to hunt for parts?" Andrew wondered grimly, as Magistas could graft flesh and blood from a contractor-mage to another person, and thereby duplicate that power without making a contract with an angel or demon. They were known as faux-contractors. Andrew knew of this process from bitter experience. Many who underwent the process died horribly, as the stronger the power, the more likely it was that the new host would be rejected and eaten alive by the original donor's aura.
"The bodies of those other contractor-mages were later stolen from the police morgues, so it's likely," Alex answered, turning his laptop around so that Andrew could see the screen. It showed several photos of a dark-skinned Asian teenager, some depicting him fighting. "Jinhai Leawa, Taiwanese by birth, seventeen years old, currently living in Osaka, Japan."
"That's pretty young," Andrew remarked. "So how do they want me to handle this, dead or alive?" he asked, roughly scratching the side of his face, inwardly hoping that it didn't require him to kill another kid. It had been five years since the war with Magistas, and in that time, Andrew had burned through much of his hatred, having killed most of their elite forces, along with several cities worth of people. He knew of course that Alex could read his mind, and awaited his response.
"Fortunately for you, the NPA wants us to arrest Jinhai in order to interrogate him about the source of his powers, and then imprison him for killing their operatives. However contractor-mages and faux-contractors are not easy to lock up, as you well know."
Andrew nodded. "I understand, so they want to make use of my unique abilities, so that he can be imprisoned long term. How much are they paying us?"
"Ten million yen," Alex replied, closing his laptop. Ten million yen was worth slightly less than a million dollars by the current exchange rates.
"Talk about cheap, but I suppose I haven't a choice since you've already accepted their request," Andrew muttered irritably, however he knew that the police had limited funds in their budgets which weren't already assigned for specific purposes.
"That's the spirit," Alex mockingly acknowledged, ignoring Andrew's tone of voice. "You can start first thing tomorrow morning; I've already booked you the plane ticket."
"I guess I'll go pack then," Andrew sighed.
"Andy, don't forget to bring a tooth brush like you did last time," Alex teased as Andrew left the lounge; Alex knew how much Andrew hated having his first name abbreviated.
"Stow it, Alex."
'This is a chance to confirm if Siegfried is involved again,' Alex thought, as his mind turned to less trivial matters.
(Meanwhile...)
"I'm not sure I can go through with this Daigo-kun, why must we use your sister in the ritual?" Reiko asked of her husband, her voice stressed and face fatigued.
"Because if we use someone else, we can't guarantee the results, you know that. I've worked hard to keep my sister from getting close to men so she remains in the state that we need, the presence of a blood related virgin is needed for the spell. Don't forget Reiko, the summoning will not kill her. Reina is simply the catalyst we need," he tried to assure her. Daigo's voice was hoarse, yet it carried the strength of authority and deeply entrenched belief.
"I know, but still..." she protested. Reiko knew that they had to do this for their future and safety, but to use a family member as a pawn for it, just seemed so wrong.
"Look I know how you feel, I really do – But if we don't summon Incubo before Siegfried finds us, then everything's over. Let's just get it over and done with while we can," he insisted, placing a hand on Reiko's shoulder to comfort her.
"Fine, but if anything happens to Reina-chan, I'll leave you, I promise you that!" Reiko declared, staring at him, her eyes resolved.
Taken aback by her sudden words, Daigo sighed in defeat. "Fine, then I have nothing to worry about, let's go." Leaving the backroom, they headed out onto the shop floor of their family owned bookstore. The shop was currently devoid of customers. Their shop consisted of two floors, with long, heavy bookcases running down in numerous columns. In some respects, it resembled a small town library. They soon found her, shelving new books at a swift pace. Natsume Reina was a tall, somewhat broad shouldered, yet slender girl, with long black hair, and faintly Eurasian features, their mother was from France. "Reina-chan, thanks for holding the fort while we were getting things sorted out back," Daigo said smoothly with a smile.
"No problem Nii-chan, I've nearly finished putting out the new stock," Reina said, smiling back as she continued with her work. Shadow Force had been one of new books that arrived, and was the newest installment in a series she particularly liked, Vampire Attack: Shadow Force; she was looking forward to reading it on her next break.
"Good to hear, it'll get busy soon, so it's best to get these things done when we can," Reiko said, trying to keep her face stoic and failing to ignore the tight knot in her stomach, knowing what would happen next.
"Oh Reina, could you help me out the back real quick?" her brother asked casually. Reina stopped what she was doing, regarding him briefly, he didn't usually call her away mid-task. But she had no reason to be suspicious.
"Yeah, sure thing," she said, and after setting down a stack of novels, she followed him out into the stockroom. Without warning, something struck Reina heavily across the back of her head. She tumbled to the ground, her mind blank, and her eyes glazing over. Daigo crouched down beside his sister. Carefully he scooped her up in his arms. Reiko sadly regarded Reina's unconscious form.
"I've locked up the store, we won't be disturbed," she told him.
"Good, do you have the Grimoire?"
"Right here," Reiko pulled out a large, dusty book from behind a nearby stockroom shelf. It was bound in wrinkled, aged leather, and its cover was engraved with complex symbols and lines, which interconnected to form a magic circle. A duplicate circle had been painstakingly painted onto the floor of their stockroom using Daigo's blood, who had been stocking up over the last week via blood packs and storing them inside the fridge in their garage. The summoning required enough blood to be fatal, if drained all at once, that is, thank you modern era. He gently laid Reina at the centre of the circle, being careful to avoid smearing the mostly dry blood.
"Then let's get started with the summoning ritual," Daigo declared, as light shone from his fingertips, while both the book and the blood circle began glowing with an eerie red glow.
"Well...that should do for tonight."
Night with sluggish speed bled away to unveil the spreading sunlit shadows of dawn, the light lowly pregnating the darkness of the stone corridors leading to Garnet's room. Haagen and Mark regarded the approaching light with relief as it overpowered the dim torches on the walls. Their feet and ankles ached, backs uncomfortable from standing straight all night or leaned against the hard rock wall while wearing their hard metal armour.
Mark put away his journal, sliding it into the item sack where its weight and shape vanished; he'd write more on his next night shift or day off. He had almost forgotten the joy of it. He was no master of the craft, having to redraft endlessly to unleash his imagination in such a way that publishers would take it. But that didn't matter, like everything else, what mattered was having fun with your creative outlets.
Haagen blearily eyed and clearly in need of sleep, snorted as he saw his fellow knight hide the book, moments later they heard the distant thud of the morning relief. "You cut that a bit close, didn't you?"
"Aye, I did." Mark shrugged, followed by a loud yawn.
"Mind telling me what you were writing?"
"Just a story… Just a story."
CHAPTER END
Next Chapter: The lowly knight is secretly a rich merchant
A/N: In case you were wondering it's a magic quill, it creates ink by draining tiny amounts of MP. The merchants and tradesman use them when pencils aren't ideal. The nobles would rather waste money on expensive ink.
(End of chapter)
DINGIR AVATAR STATS
Character class: Grey Mage
Rank: Pluto Knight X (Private)
Level: 21, 19030xp until next level up.
HP: 2551 / 2551
MP: 993/ 999 (maxed)
Strength: 63 (99)
Speed: 39 (35)
Spirit: 55 (59)
Magic Defence/Defence: 48 (79)
Magic: 94
Magic Evasion/Evasion: 34 (53)
Primary Weapon: Ice Brand (freeze add-on)
Secondary Weapon: Mythril Dagger
Weapons available to switch out: Iron Sword, Goblin Dagger, Javelin, Pinwheels x20
Headwear: Iron Helm + Headgear
Armour: Iron Armour + Chain Plate
Accessory: Steel Gauntlet with buckler + Leather Wrist
Skills: Minus Strike, Mental Break
Abilities: Bright Eyes, Level Up, Man Eater, Bug Killer, Grey Magic, Antibody, Bandit, Dragon Killer, Devil Killer, Undead Killer, Beast Killer
Magic: Poison, Regen, Sleep, Panacea, Osmose, Protect, Cure, Bio, Shell, Stop, Scan
Magic Stacking: Asag's Toxin – level 1 (40MP) Adel's Healing – level 1 (30MP) Hypnos Field – level 1 (50MP) Physical Barrier – level 1 (30MP) Magical Barrier – level 1/2/3 (30/60/90MP) Magic Gluttony – level 1 (20MP) Frozen Time – level 1 (40MP)
Trance: Balmung Strike, Balmung Omni, Balmung Blaster
Items: 20 D-Potions, 6 Phoenix Down, 10 P-Potion, 9 R-Potions, 30 Potions, 10 Eye Drops, 10 Echo Screen, 10 Soft, 13 Goblin Steak, Traveller's cloak, Isekai ring, silk shirt, lots of regular clothes.
Gil: 20252
MY MAIN BOOKS AND COMICS:
Search the titles on Amazon, Lulu, Barnes&Noble, and most major online retailers, available in Kindle/EBook, and Paperback. (Some in Hardback)
Grey Faction: Arrival of the Grey Queen (This is the one you saw in this chapter)
Grey Faction: Mistaken Apostles
Grey Faction Comic: Jinhai's Justice
Grey Faction Comic: School Wars
Grey Faction Comic: Arrival of the Grey Queen
Detective Michael: The Scalpel Murder
Detective Michael: Riverside Mystery
Detective Michael Comic: Volume 1
Vampire Attack: Empire of Shadows
Vampire Attack: Shadow Force
Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles: Dimension Wars
Secret Yuuki & the Guilty Heart Chronicles: Starlight Alliance
Nexus Comic: Volume 1
Corpses 'N' Things
Monsters 'N' Things
Vampires 'N' Things