Just read the title.
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Well, another completely original arc made up by yours truly. Yes, yes. I'm very proud of myself.
Here's a warning:
This is where my fanfics start going all psycho and all that. So if you don't want to be triggered, delete this from your bookmarks.
P.S. I don't own Fate or Mushoku Tensei.
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Another three months passed. I didn't notice-I was too busy with everything. My entire body was itching to explore, to see the world! But if I do go on my merry way toward this world's equivalent of Hawaii, there wouldn't be a world left to see.
I've been keeping my human terminal in the damp closet these days. It was a part of me, so it wasn't child abuse. You couldn't accuse someone of abuse for not using their arm or leg, could you? I could have used the terminal to travel and see the world! But instead, I keep it in a spider-infested closet. Hahaha... Did I mention that I'm an idiot?
Oh! And I noticed that everyone around my human terminal seemed to immediately calm down. It doesn't matter how negative they feel or what the reason is. One moment they're angry, and the next? Poof! All calm and serene. I even heard some Beastfolk servants sigh in contentment when they were near my human terminal!
I found out it was my human terminal's Mana affecting their emotions. You know how my main body constantly leaks Mana into the air? My human terminal does that as well. And when "my" Mana comes into contact with a living being, it instantly compels them to trust me and feel calm. I'm not one hundred percent sure how this body got such a nifty ability. I used my DNA as the base. I certainly don't have such a beneficial power. If I did, making connections would be so easy! But I think the shard of my third eye gave this terminal its unique ability. It was the only logical explanation. The steps I followed were standard for homunculus production. Anyway, I wasn't sure yet. So I'll wait for the Demon and Beastfolk terminals to mature and see if they develop any fancy powers I don't have.
On that note, the Beastfolk terminal is mature enough and ready to be infused with my soul! Hehehe... Why must I split my soul in two in my Reality Marble? Glancing at the transparent cylinder that housed my Demon terminal, I noted rapid growth. The same had happened with the human one when it developed abnormally fast after my soul was infused.
The wooden table creaked as I got onto it.
"The time of Migration hath come. I am the beginning of infinity."
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When I awoke, I felt no different than in my usual state. In fact, I think I've never felt better than before. My movements were swift and effortless, and my senses were sharp as a knife.
There was no thick Mana mist, nor was there any poisonous fog. I think I've kept my Mana transparent for so long that it's caught on in my Reality Marble. Though there was no hazy shrouding everything in a blanket of white, shadows blanketed the land. Occasional blotches of sunlight managed to break through the canopy above, making certain spots livelier than the rest.
I was made aware that I was in a rainforest of some sort. Humid and warm air surrounded me, making me sweaty even though this form couldn't do so. Everything seemed to have a green hue. All thanks to the sunlight passing through a dense covering of tree leaves. Despite the shadows covering everything, I could see everything clearly. Trees, wider than I was tall, grew hundreds of meters into the air. Covered by emerald quilts of vines and vibrant clusters of orchids.
The sound of a river flowing entered my ears. Along with thousands of other sounds. From an avalanche happening god-knows-how-many miles away to the skittering of ants below my feet. Great flowers bloomed around me, some small as my fingertip, while others had blossoms larger than me. Their scents varied from species to species. From the vile odor of rotting meat to the sweet fragrance of honey, I could distinguish which bloom produced which smell.
I knew what I must do next, so I rose into the air. No mist lifted me this time, nor were any balls of wind beneath my feet. It was as if gravity affected me in one moment and then forgot I existed in the next.
It was a grand view as I floated into the sky. Arguably one better than the grassy plains. Dense forests stretched beyond the sky, lush and green and filled with life. Butterflies fluttered about amidst the rich foliage while colorful birds weaved in and out of the branches. Occasional mountains stood here and there. Though few in number, each one reached far beyond the clouds. Their tips kissed with tinges of snow, pure as ivory and soft as wool. The chains were more hidden this time. Beyond the endless forests and towering peaks, rusted golden chains held aloft splintering clocks. They ticked away painfully, creaking and groaning with each action they made.
Before I knew it, I had risen above the clouds. Still, I could see the tips of the mountains, proudly standing as if asserting their might. The transparent gem was further away this time, in the same place as the chains and clocks. Still, slicing a piece off was trivial in this world, no matter the distance.
It was but a dull ache this time.
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̷̜̗͈̀̒̓ ̸̙͉̍Ǐ̸̞̜̦̓ ̵̱̘̾r̷̲̭̪͒e̵̩͓̩̓́m̵͈͑̃e̵̘̞̒̈ͅm̶̢͐ḇ̸͇̙̕e̵͙͠r̴̘̊̓͆ ̶̡̣̂͊̈́a̶̰͔͑ ̵̨̹͉̉̆f̷͕͓̒̅͠ò̷̢͇̄̚ͅr̷̛͚e̷̤̰͐s̷̝͋t̸͕̦̏̑,̷̲́̀ ̶̼̼͗͐͠m̴̢̰̣͆̆ó̷̗͇̗̓͑r̴̬̎͘͝e̶͔͍͔͒͋͛ ̵̭̼͝l̴͍̇͂ų̵̜̀̇͝s̶̤͉̉̓̑h̸̩̪̄́ ̵͈͇͎̚ȧ̵͈̝n̶̲͚̼̉̎̊d̴͕̍ ̶͙̗̩͌p̴̟͐͌l̶̻̰͎͂e̶͔̒n̷̡̖͇̂͆t̵̞͔̐̈́͘ỉ̷̪̟f̷̡̣͔̑͠u̶̼̙͌͆͝l̶̗̒͝ ̶̳̋̓̑t̸̘̪͆͝h̷̘͎͊͠ā̸̗͝n̶̲̙͕̉ ̵̼̉̃a̶̛̱̔̈́n̵̼̞̹͆͗̇y̶̟̓̓̾ ̶̜̬̥̑͘t̴͔͆õ̸̜̩d̵̹̏̅̔ǎ̴̢̦̈́͋ỷ̸̯̼͍́̆.̵͖͒ ̷͖͈̅̑̕M̴̻̆̕͜ͅa̵̦̳͐̏̊g̸̤̪͍̉͆́n̶̜̘̉͛ḯ̷͔̰̫̿͑f̷̻̎i̶̧̟͓͌̔͘c̶̫̟̆̉e̵̠̹̟̒̽̃n̴̪̤͑͠ṯ̵̆̉͝ ̷̺́̒̋t̷̠̼̒̿͜ŗ̷̔̿͠e̵̝͇̅̅͂ē̸̮̔s̶̳̋͆ ̶̤̲͛s̵̜̼̈́̌͂ͅt̷̮̊o̷͕̮̾o̵̥͖̾͜ḏ̵̕͝͝ ̴͈̯͇̈́̽̐t̴͎̙͖̑ạ̵̙̖͋l̷̫͙̐̑l̵̩͓̣̚ ̷̝̹̕͝a̶̢͎̯͑̔̉n̸͈̅̐̕ḓ̸̗̬͗͌̌ ̷͍̬̘̈́͆͆p̴̦̯̱̓̔̿ṛ̷̋ō̶̮̂u̵͕̩̐̚d̴̥͝,̸̮͇͛͝ ̸̹̫̯͂̓̕r̷̗̍͊e̴̬̅́m̸̝͓͙͑͝í̷͎n̴̡͈̬̒ḍ̸́i̷̙͂̈́͘n̶̲̭͙̽́ǵ̸͕͈̑ ̷̡̭̿͂̐m̸̼̭̼̓̿̔y̴̹̘̌ ̴͎̤̮̃̌̓p̸͙͠e̵̺͒͑͠o̴̙͚͆̀p̶͔̤̳̽͐l̷̮̓̏ẻ̵̢͙͈ ̷͔̤̌o̷̘̽̎ͅf̷̯̖̱̐̔͝ ̶̞̇ő̷̯̈̕u̸̪̒r̴̙̟͖̓ ̸̢̊́̀w̸̰̺̎o̸̯̯͂r̶̞̮͕͂́̓l̴̺̦̔d̷̦̬͠'̷̜̲̈́ś̵̥̯͐̾ ̶͙͒͝m̸͇͕̍͜a̷̺̰̐́͐j̴̡̓ȩ̸̲̂͐̈s̶̡̛̪̣ţ̶̨́͂͐ý̸̱̙.̷̖̿̇͝ ̸̢̹̙́͠B̷̜̞̠̈͐̍ù̴̩͜ṱ̵͓̅͂t̴̡͉̰̄͘͝é̵̤̫̕r̴̘̈́̑̇f̷̥̺̄̐̐l̸̦̜̊ḯ̴̧͉̳e̵͖̯̝̊s̷̭̈́ ̴̱̤́͋̐d̸̢̖̠́̌̾à̷̢͌͂͜n̸̰̈́̐ͅc̵͓̝̠͆̕ȅ̴͍̐̓͜d̵͓͓͔̅ ̷̪̤͎͛a̵̹̾̚m̸̡͕͗í̴̼d̷̖̗͋͗s̸̠͎̪̈́ẗ̸͎́̽ͅ ̴̻̠̬̋̄͝t̸̤̹͙̚h̴̪̳̬̀̚e̶͈͓̺͊̓ ̸͉͎̈͜f̵̤̎͠o̵͚͗͊l̵̗̣̥͝ḯ̷̖a̷̫͗ğ̴̲̺̠̀͊e̵̡̞͊͆̕ ̶̻̰̐͜w̵̡͚̬͊̔h̴͉̫̰͠i̸͇̝͛l̸̮̳̀͂ȇ̶͎̣̲̀ ̸̪́b̴̝͈̱̓̋̕i̵̮͒̀̓r̶͖̦̭̀͝ḍ̶̣͌̑͗s̴̳̅̀ ̷͈͗w̶͚̆̽ͅä̷̟̹͖̽́l̷̜̄t̴͚̽̈z̶̛͖̬ě̷̥̗͛d̷͕̺̈́ ̸̛̭̯̓a̸͚̔̉͘m̸̼̽̾o̶̥̖͛̾̀n̶̬̋̓́g̸͖͙͈̍̈̄ ̸̥̲̄͝ẗ̵̜̜́h̵͚̺̆͜ę̸̠̠͗ ̶̡̠͇͌̄c̴̗̮̄͝a̴̪̍̀̈́n̴͇̱͎̂̃o̸̟̹̊͊p̶̣͚̰̉͑͆y̴̨͍̎͐͑.̵̤̎͐̕ ̷̪̱͆̇G̸̤̹͂r̷̤̹̻̈̈́ḙ̴̼̆ȃ̶͕t̸͖̐ ̵͎̃́͐ḿ̶͓̟o̶͖͈͓̿ṵ̸̧̥̈́̈̄n̵̲̿͆͝t̷̲̄̌̕â̴͍͙͇̎̃i̶̘̽̿̃n̴͉̓̐͗s̵͉͕͆ͅ ̴̢̀́r̵͔͇͊̊o̵̼̘͒͗̕s̵̨͈̐̿͗ė̸̙̜͉ ̴̹͈͖̾͑̄b̴̧͍͍͛́e̷̻̽̚y̸͌ͅo̴̬͔̻̐͊̔ṅ̴̗̔d̸̰̓͒͗ ̸̛̙̑t̷̫̖̟͝h̷̞͉̻́ě̸͔͊̏ ̸̢͌͆̀ͅc̴̛̥̋͠ḷ̷͑͛ö̴̡͎́̏͜u̴̮͉̙͐d̷̙͍́͋ș̷̟̽͘ ̷̼̊a̶̝̻͔̅̂n̷̬̺͂̈́̚d̴̻̒ ̵̬̻̽ͅs̶̲͎̹̈k̴͔̓̎́ẏ̸̩͔̄,̷̭͆̿ ̸̛̬̍́r̷̼̈́̚è̶͈a̷̙͒̽̏c̵̹̱͊̒ḧ̶̬̦͊͠î̸̡̮̾̕n̶̖̤͗̋g̵̠̱̀ ̴̖͚͋̑f̸̗̯̓ò̴̖͘r̵̖͔̿̿ ̶̭̊̚t̴̛̖͕̂h̴̢̻́̌͘ȩ̶̛̤͌ ̵̛̱̣̦̔S̵̹̝̚ë̶̟̘ͅa̸͕̙̒̎́ ̴̹͆͐͝ȏ̵̖̏̏f̴̼͓̻̑͐́ ̸̣͍̻͋̎V̶̝̆͜o̸̫̳̓͜i̷͚͙͈̽̐d̴̝̓̄ ̸̭̀͋̋w̵̘͠h̵̨̘̿è̷͇̠̜͂̉ṙ̷͇̿e̸͉̳̖͝ ̷̼̺̣͌F̵̢̥̪̆a̶̦̰̕t̵̺̤͑̽ͅh̴͙̀e̴͕͋̌r̶̨̬̊̑'̶͈̜̈́ś̵̝̹͚̓ ̶̫̹̮͆͗̈́f̵͙̦̀̇̚i̸̲̬̔̑̕r̷̩̾ṡ̵̩̕ṭ̶̦̜͌͝ ̵̻̗̒̓̀c̵͓͌͝h̷͎̉̈́ḭ̶̡̓̅l̷̰̞̾d̸͓̥̾̉r̴͍͗ͅé̴̖̄̈́n̵̹̂͛ ̷̮͓̈͝r̸͇̄͋ë̶̹́̋̍s̸̢͈̽̈́i̸̩̪̥͘d̸̹̪̽́e̶̯̦̠̊́͑.̶͙̌͝ ̶͓̟͒T̸̫̠̱̀ȉ̸̟͕̦̀p̷̣͊̊s̷̫̖͆̽͐ͅ ̷̧͎̔̓͗k̵̤̒ͅi̸̳͓͒́š̵̮̞͉͘s̸͎̏̓̉è̸̢̢̺d̴̳̂̾̎ ̷̼͑w̴͇͇͍͂̍i̴͔̿t̷̹̟͉͂͋h̵̗̒̉ ̷̘̘͇̾ṽ̵̱̤͎͆̉ȋ̸̮̖̕r̸̨̨̎̏̑g̷̣̝̈́̓̆i̵̟͍͐n̵͖͆͌̀ ̴̯͑̋̾ṣ̶̢̜̊̇͘ň̸̬͉̽o̷̧͐w̸͎̭͍̽̊ ̴͓͙̐͝ȧ̶̡̉͘n̵̮̋̓͝d̴̳̀ ̴̼̒̓̉m̶̞̮̑̄̇ͅō̷͖̓̕u̷̧͍̳̐̿̓n̶̥̓͜ţ̵̅̇̅a̸̠͊́͆i̵̥͎͗ñ̵͉̘͝s̶̨͘͝i̷͖͓͐̆d̵͈̙̿̐̕ē̶̡͙̤ș̴̭̞͑̇ ̴͔̿c̵̦̈͊͘o̴̺̐͌v̸̯͒͐e̸̝̖̾͒͊ͅr̷̩͈̃̕ḙ̷̼̉ḋ̴̛̟̰͜ ̸̢̖̜̀̋͝w̴͚͖̝͆͠i̸̢̺̙͗͘t̵̖̣͆h̴̠̚ ̶̹̼̈́e̶̛̘̔m̷̞̃ë̴͔̱́͊r̷͎̭͌̾͒ą̷̏l̴͈̦͗̉d̶̟̮̥̾̀͒ ̸̢͓̤̀̿t̴̲̞̒̀͜r̴̗̺̈́ë̵̗̩̦́e̵̲̦̽ş̷̥́̈́͠.̸͚͓̗͝
̶͙͂͜ ̷͙̝͊ ̵̡̺̯̈I̶̢̠̅ ̵̘̗̔́m̷̲̾̕â̶͇̙̪n̵̟̞̺̎̈̍a̷͓̠̍̈g̸̠͛̍ẻ̸͖̫ḑ̷͉̤̿̈̍ ̶͇̊b̴̫̬̥̄o̶͔̘͇̔͘͠t̷͖͂h̵̡̄̋ ̶͚̼͑n̶͚̣̬͋a̸͇̟̥̋̓̚t̵͓͉͆͘ű̵̱̦̆͑͜r̶͓̙̪̊̈́̿e̶̥͍̹͆ ̴̡̛̣̹͒a̶̢̼͙̐̈̈́n̵̨̛͕͗̋d̴̠̆ ̷̯͐p̵͙͕̗̈̑̅r̷̼̠̝̋́̍ǎ̴̢͖̔̃ý̸̼̅͠ȅ̴͔͂r̶̨̥̪̃̿͝.̸̮̯̓͒́ͅ ̴͚̐̈́͊T̸̜̲̈́̏ḩ̶̙͖̿e̶͖͑̾ÿ̶̪̮́͂ͅ ̶͉̻̄ẅ̷̼̗́͝ë̷͕́r̵̲̅ę̷̺͙̕ ̶̢͍̝̃̏m̴̮̫̒y̵̤̻͛͐̒ ̶̣̌d̶̯̓͒̆o̵̫̦͇͘ḿ̴͈͐i̶̟̊́͂n̵̡͋́͐í̵̹̰̚ō̷̞̄n̵͓̼͝,̷̟̤̊̄ ̴͍̎̅͝ḁ̴̙͛͗m̸̱͇̅ͅo̶̬̓̅ṋ̷̅͛̓g̵͔͎̰̾͛͒ ̸̡͔̺͑̿̐ǎ̴̺̤̭̍ ̸͖̓͝f̸̲̆ȩ̴̦͓̊́ẅ̸͍́̿̐ ̴͚̯͐ő̸̧t̸̳̻̽̒͝h̵̯̮̞̔̓e̵̢̯̫͒͠r̵͉̞̖̿̚͝s̷̡̏͑̇.̴̥̞͂ ̶͉̰͇͗I̶̡̹͘̕ ̴̳̖̱́͛r̶͔̜̊̕ē̴̘͇̘̉̚c̴̹̀̽ḙ̶̣̆ͅǐ̵͎ṽ̷̧̭̰ē̶̘̣̟d̷̺͎̱̐̍̌ ̴͈̹͇̀t̶̢̖̝̎̄̄h̸̤̐͂e̶̹͊̈́ ̶̫͕͛b̴̥͍̹̽l̴̳̤̀e̶̘̭̠͒̂̏ś̸̪̪͚͋s̷̭͖̈́ḯ̵͎n̴̨͔̥͋̈́g̵̱̉̃̚s̴̨̜̉̅̉ ̵̼̳̈́̕ȁ̸͔̳̪͂ǹ̶͕̲̈́͆ď̸̹̼̫̏ ̶̨̓d̸̡͆e̵̲͈͍͝v̸͚̗̀̄o̵̜̬̿̇t̴̛̫͉͋͆ͅį̸̩͎̈͛ó̸̭̗̟̚͘n̸̩̊͊̌ ̴̨͕̍͜ő̸̪͔̽́f̵͕͑̋ ̵͖̫̚ͅm̷̫͖̳̈́ơ̶̟͈̻͑r̵̠̲̾́̇ṱ̷̡̮̆ȃ̷͖l̴̜͕̃̾̇s̸͈̝̄͠ͅ ̷̗̱̲̋͋̏ä̵̺́n̷̫͐ḍ̸̣̈ ̷̗͇̉̆d̶͎͆͊ǐ̶̪̥s̸̛̙͓̮̈́ẗ̶͖́͗̈́ͅř̵̬͠ͅi̵̱̥̇̐b̴̡̼̳̋̊̎u̸̖͗̌t̶͇̟̩̂͒e̴̛̻̹̒d̴̙͍͙͑ ̴͇̝̝́͝i̷̻̠͎̔͘͘t̴̪̭͚͛͝ ̸͈͖̈͆e̸͖̐̅q̴͈͛͝͝ų̸̳̈͒̓ä̵͇́͝l̵̠̤̯̀̑ḽ̵͉͝͠y̵̝̳̽́͝ ̸̙̜͠t̶̞͚͕͂ơ̶̦̓̉ ̶̣͚̖̒m̴̯̲̮̋́y̶̼̼͓̌͗͠ ̶̧̨͓̔̿͠b̵͖̣͊r̴͈͛̃o̷̮͎͐t̵̤͉̔̋͠h̶̯͌͊̕e̵̺͔̘͝r̸̡͌s̶͎̤͉̽͘.̶̖̑
̵̡͛͐ ̷̳͔͐̎͊ ̴͔͕̤̿Ỉ̵̧͕̱̾ ̷̟͘ṟ̶̺̦̀̉o̶̜̥̹̊d̵͉̬̑͘̚è̷̑̊ͅ ̴̼̓̄̚a̴̡̧͒̃ ̷̹͉͛̉w̵̨͌̓̌ó̶̭̪̭͂l̸̥͚̞̾͐͘f̷̘̭̭͊̕͝ ̵̱̖̆w̶̩̪̜͠ȟ̴̰̾̈́ọ̸̧̏́s̶̼͉͛̿è̷̬̰ ̴̬̲̀̽f̷̜̳̂ü̵̺͑r̶͙̮̫͑͛͋ ̶̙̳̏̅̐ẁ̵̠á̸̱͍̺̕͝s̶̰̟̤̀̃͝ ̸̩͙͊͑͂p̸͉̲͇̾ư̸̭̜̦̓̊ȑ̶̡̟̑ȩ̷̨̙̍̂ȓ̵̼͛ ̸̳̩̂ţ̶̫̌ḩ̸̼͕͛͝a̶̭̥̍͜ṋ̶͉̄̿̀ ̵̢̥͕͌̌́s̷̺͚͐̑n̸̮̣̍o̸̖̪̤͐̔̌w̵̻̭̮̿͒ ̵̡̛̤͌͜͝ą̵̱̑n̵͈̠̭̆d̵̞́̈̈́͜ ̴̨̧͉̽w̷̨̥̍̀h̶̞̀̕i̵͇͉͎̒t̴̝̭͒ę̷͈́̍͝ͅr̴̯̱̄͒ ̶͉͕̅t̷̻͋͠h̸̛̦̹̎ḁ̶́͜n̴̹̱̄ ̴̨̲̗̉͑̇ī̵̩͉v̵̛͍̑̀o̴̪̮̓̓ř̶̟̤͗y̸̝̖̾.̶̭̗͇̃̏͆ ̶̲͇̃I̷̫̱̫͝ ̵̛̥̼̹͘c̵̛͔͔̐ő̵̙̣̄n̴̰̂̆q̴̱̠͊͆ṳ̷̦̽ę̴̈́r̵̖̈́ḛ̴̋̿d̴̪̜̱͛̓̚ ̷͈̠̾t̶̖̝͘h̶̩͊ê̴͙̝̆ ̶̳̯̅̓l̵͍̏̈́̋ȃ̵͇̉̀n̴̢͂́̓d̵̻̆̕s̶̫̆͂̆ ̶̭̤́͝f̴̼̎̔͜͠ǫ̷̛̘̱̉ŕ̴͇̚͝ ̸̙͑͆̊m̸̛̩̮͕̋y̷͍͎͔͂ ̴̠̣͇̋̈͠k̴̝̰̄̃ï̶͔̐͘n̷̬̒ ̷̢̞͋̕ṯ̵̪̫̿͠͠o̴͖̝̹͛̀͂ ̶̤̫͛͋̓t̶̰̏͗͂h̴̫̎̃̆ȓ̴̗̻i̵̢͙͆v̸̧͕̤̿ḙ̸̝͋͘̚.̶̗͛̕ ̵̨̪̀̌T̴̥̘͒́̀ẖ̶̙̀e̷̟̿y̶̱͒ ̷̺̪̘͋b̶̧͈̩́ű̸̘̖̞͑͠ȋ̶̖̐l̷͔̈̀̍d̶̤̯̲̈̽ ̴͉̗̒̾͝h̷͇̱̾̚o̵̱̓͒̅u̶͉̟̓͛̊s̸̨͚̊̎͐é̵̪̈́̍ͅṡ̶̺́̒ ̷͖͖͕̔̋̿a̷̧͔̥͛̀t̴̺̞̀͜o̸̢̖̣͐p̶̥͚͗͂ ̶̢̪̺͗t̵̛̳̹̻h̷̩̩̀̒͠ẽ̴̪̜̀̓ ̴̼̰͓̎̽͝t̶̞̪̟͌̎̈́a̵̜͆̏͆l̸̠͎̣̽̏l̵̒͜ȩ̸̬͔̓̚s̴̩͔͙͐t̴͈͗͊̑ ̸͛̑̕͜t̵̠̰̊r̵̜̮͝e̸̱̪̹̾e̴͖̫̖͝s̴̼̘͂,̷̐̿̈́ͅ ̴͉́a̶̺͋n̶͔̂͝d̴̫̮̙̚ ̸̗̞̟̀Ȋ̴͙̠̈́ ̷̤͚͇̿͗̆h̷͙̦̺̋͝ė̵̩͔͙l̸̢͕̓̄͝p̸̢͊̔̾e̸͙͌d̴͇͖̈́̈͐ ̸̨͕͛͝ͅť̶̤̆ẖ̵͕̦͗̀é̸͍̭͍m̵̼͠ ̸̳́̓a̴̡͠ņ̷͚̒̆d̵̡͙̫̂̚̚ ̸̪̟͛p̵̣̰̦͋r̷̖̀͂̾ä̴̻̺̍î̵̞͗͑s̵̙̘̔e̴̘̋ͅḑ̷̛̼̳ ̶͖͖̥͑̃t̴̖̽͊ḫ̸̺̞̓̓e̶͍͋m̴͙̪̓̀̿͜ ̷̩͕̽̏̍w̶̡̍̃͜i̴̠̫̩͂̓ṫ̵̝̯̀͂h̸͈̗͝ ̷̬̭̞́̌̿p̷̧̢͕͐͒̅r̵̬͆̂i̷̼̚ď̷̫͜è̴̥̰̻.̸̜̪͚̀̍ ̵̟͕̈̆̈E̷̘͓͊͝v̴̺́e̸͚͒̃͋͜ṉ̵̩̫̄̅ ̷̖͗̆t̷̻̤̒͝h̸̨̛̦̆e̵̛̘ ̴̦̪͘m̷͖̀̽o̸̖͕̻͋͗s̶̩͛̔t̷͎̩͗̔͆ ̶̹̬͒s̶̨̹̈́̽̃a̴̩̬̓̏̑v̷̲̍̀̌a̶̲͙̿̑g̴͕̰̱͌̒ȩ̷̼͙̋̄̀ ̷̘̤̎͘͜o̶̼͔̿͆͝f̸̢̖̾̈͝ ̴̳̟̫̌̈́ḃ̴̃ͅȇ̷̜̮̂ã̸̟̆̈́s̴͍͕͙͌̏t̷̥̩̺̽̌̿s̴͙̊̇ ̷̩̫̀̌͌͜b̴͉͌͌ó̵̢̱̥͆ẉ̵̄̉͌ḙ̵̜̏͋d̵̘́̂ ̸̻̹͒̌̕t̴͓̻̞̐͑ò̸̖͕̻̈́͘ ̷̯̍̓ť̵̙̱͔h̴̤͚̪̃̊́ę̸̱̠̑́ ̴̼́̉̌Ḷ̶̭͓̆̈̄o̷͚̦̾͜r̵̢̗̊̌̊ͅḑ̶͙̱͠ ̵̭̀͐͝ö̶̼͙́f̸̨̌͝ ̸̞̻̩̇̾ẗ̴̖́h̴̰̬̪̓͆͝ȩ̸̔̉ ̴̧̰̔̅͜Ģ̸̌̕ͅr̵̲̞̉e̸̢͕͊a̶̗͋̚t̸̯̾̏̓ ̶̹̮͊̉́F̵̱͐͊̆o̷̡̖̯̓̍͝r̸͎̒̋̑ͅè̵͉̝̕s̵̠̑́̚t̵̟͈͋͋.̴̡̂͜
̶̹̂̊̚ ̶̥̯̟̓̈́ ̶͎̩͛I̷̭͎͖̒̋͆ ̸͎̭̌͑̓r̵̜̹̅e̶͙̾̀̕m̵̧͉̝͊ë̷́͜͜͜m̴͎̀̑͠b̵̫̳̌̈́̚ȩ̶͍̯̃r̷̘͐ ̵͓̉b̷͈̪̯̔͠e̷̬̪͋͜i̴̗̐̀̒ņ̴̳̽̀̈́͜g̵̠̙͙̋ ̵͇͍̬̄̏̈r̷͚̎i̴̘͐p̴͈̬̆̽̀p̴̳̟̯̚ḙ̶̓̈́d̵̰͠ ̵̲͍̦͘i̴̺̪̝͋̐n̵̨͎̐̈ ̴͇̀t̵͈́͊͆ẅ̶͈͋̐ō̷̝̖͝͝.̸͕̰̅̓͛ ̵̠̝̍̈Í̵͉͔̤ ̸̬̈́̎͝ẇ̷̦̱ả̷̭̀s̷̮͔͒̈́ ̶̗̑̀͝t̴̥̾h̴̳͈̏͑͌e̴̯͑̚ ̶̺͝s̶̱̘̏e̴͚̿͒͝c̶̢̱̒ö̴̹̮́̒͗ņ̶͓͒̾d̵͖̝͐̾ ̵̭̟̟͒̓ẗ̷̙̓̐ȍ̷̦̺̬ ̴̠͓̳͐͛ḏ̷͔̤͆̀i̷̥̮͊ẹ̶͉̀.̵̧̧̯̆̌̇
...
...
My eyes opened. There were three of me now. Ruby-red orbs fluttered open for the first time, still unused to the darkness of this closet. A green gem shard fell into my hand. I was still a bit disoriented, so I didn't pick it up right away. I eventually stuffed it into my pouch.
My vision was split into three now. The new addition to my point of view was hazy and blue-tinted. As much as I hated that blue gunk "I" was floating in, I still needed to escape that glass prison. Despite the link being new, I was starting to feel incredible discomfort in my lungs.
A simple command and I was seeing from a new perspective. This time, my vision spanned 360 degrees. My head felt oddly heavy, even when I floated in blue liquid. The horrendous feeling of liquid-filled lungs and sensitive skin was not one I wanted to feel again. "My" circuits roared to life with a burst of Od, and "I" was sent tumbling to the floor, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass.
I shifted out of that perspective as soon as possible, exhaling a breath of relief from my main body as the sensation grew duller. I looked at my Demon terminal now that it was out and not covered with blue Mana sludge.
Like my human terminal, it was eerily similar to me in appearance. "My" skin seemed made from white marble, white as fresh snow. Ruby-like eyes stared at nothing in particular, unfocused and cloudly. Hair spilled past "my" chin, barely touching "my" shoulders to form a short, messy bob-cut. It was neither green nor blue but rather a light turquoise. Weird. I used Roxy's hair as the base, so why did it turn greenish? Seven white horns were arranged in a crown-like formation on "my" head. They seemed to be made from ivory, and "my" turquoise hair spilled out between the prongs.
However, the most notable-and subjectively terrifying-trait was "my" eyes. This terminal wasn't limited to one pair. When I infused the homunculus body with a shard of my third eye, it began to grow bumps all over its body. I had thought it was some illness and began dreading that I'd have to redo everything. But the terminal's condition was stable, so I left the lumps as they were. Only now did I realize what they actually were.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of eyes, were placed on "my" body. They were like the two on "my" forehead, unblinking and unfocused. Though that made them even more terrifying. Some were small as a pinhead, while others were large as a fist. Some were like slits, others were perfectly round, and one was even in the shape of an "X." Their coloring ranged from red to green to every color imaginable. The patterns within each one were unique, not a single one repeating.
They were Mystic Eyes. So this was this body's ability, what my third eye had granted it. It was horrifying, sure, but Mystic Eyes were powerful. Even if I had only had one Rainbow-ranked set, it would be enough for the Clocktower to seal me away. And I was sure more than half of these eyes on "my" body were Jewel-rank or higher.
"Hehehe. Got me a new toy...!"
Three of me spoke all at once, making me dizzy from confusion. I plopped down on the ground and moved most of my consciousness to Demon "me." If I wanted to discover what all these eyes did, I'd have a long journey ahead of me.
...
...
...
...
...
The Kingdom of Shirone was a small but old country with a two-hundred-year-old history. The southern part of the Central Continent had been ripe with conflict until the King Dragon Realm took control of the whole region some three hundred years ago. Even now, the land to the north was a sprawling region of discord. Given the precarious location of the Shirone Kingdom, people often wondered how it managed to endure for two hundred years.
The sky was a deep blue, with smidges of white clouds floating lazily about. They complemented the scenery below. Mountain peaks formed irregular ranges in the distance, not so high as to reach the clouds. Covered with lush greenery instead of virgin snow. Hardworking farmers carefully tended to their flourishing rice patties as the sun shone on their hunched-over forms, the sweat on their heads glimmering.
"Hah... How much longer? I hate walking."
A short figure trudged along the dirt road. The figure was a young boy, judging from his voice. His gray eyes looked begrudgingly at the road ahead of him. He swiped a strand of white hair from his face, pushing it behind his ear. He didn't do anything about the bangs that hung over his eyes.
The boy was clothed in casual clothes made of cloth and leather. A grey cloak hid most of what he had on. It trailed onto the ground, obviously a size too big. Most of his color palette was either white or a shade of grey. The sole exception was the sash he had wrapped around his forehead, colored a deep gold.
"Stupid cloak. I should have bought one for this body when it finished maturing."
Trying to distract himself from his less-than-desirable condition, he let his gaze wander. Besides the rice patties, there were some fields made for grazing livestock. Inactive plots of land were few and far between, covered in what seemed to be clover. The boy bent down and picked a leaf, sniffing it as he turned it with his fingers. He stepped to the side as a carriage passed him.
"Why are there so many people? I could have flown if they weren't here!"
There usually weren't too many people on the dirt highway to Shirone's capital. But today was an exception, as the optimal weather conditions and occasional cool breeze made it a great day for traveling. Horse-drawn caravans were a common sight for the boy as he trudged along, steps heavy and sluggish. He absentmindedly plopped the clover leaf he picked in his mouth, spitting it out just as quickly.
"Ugh... Why'd I do that? So sour. I should have slept more."
Conjuring some ice-cold water, he splashed himself in the face to wake up. His mind somewhat more focused, he stared toward the distance. The capital of Shirone was far away, it was visible, but it strained the boy's eyes to get a clear look. There was still a good length he'd have to travel.
"That's it. I'm done with walking."
The boy was fed up. He stopped walking. Sighing, he looked behind him, hoping to find a merchant or someone who'd let him hitch a ride. There were many merchants behind him. He picked a random carriage and ran to the person with the reigns.
"Excuse me, may I ask where this carriage is headed?"
The person holding the reigns was in the middle of a yawn when the boy asked, so it took him a second to answer. He gave the boy a clinical look, judging his age.
"Shirone's capital, Latakia."
"Would it be possible for me to hitch a ride?"
The merchant looked back inside the carriage. There was already a group of people inside. They carried an assortment of used-looking weapons. No doubt they were adventurers he hired to protect his loot. They occupied half of the carriage space, but adding one more person was possible.
"Sure, kid. Got any way to pay?"
The boy nodded, reaching into a small pouch tied to his waist. He fetched two Asura silver coins and threw them to the merchant. The merchant caught them and pocketed them.
"I'm not expecting you to protect the carriage, but don't get in the adventurers' way if monsters attack."
The boy, already on the carriage, laughed. A mischievous glint in his gray eyes made the merchant question if letting this unknown kid onto his caravan was the right choice.
"I'm a Saint-Rank Water mage. And I can cast without incantations. I think I can hold my own in a fight."
The merchant's eyes bugged out as he looked at the boy's small form. He might have been a dwarf or a halfling, but his childlike voice excluded those possibilities.
"How old are you, kid?"
"Hm... I'm seven, almost eight."
"What's a kid so young doin' out alone?"
"Business. By the way, I'm Animus Animusphere Greyrat. You?"
"Animusphere? As in the famous craftsmen?"
"Yep, that's me. Lord Animusphere II. Your name is...?"
The merchant whistled, giving the boy an impressed look.
"Bruno. 'Tis an honor to meet the famous craftsman of Fittoa."
"Ha! You're gonna make me blush."
...
...
About a day later, the group made their way to the front gates of Latakia. A sturdy, awe-inspiring wall lined its perimeter, like the walls around the city of Roa. Animus poked his head out of the carriage as they passed the protective borders and into the city. He hopped out the back of the carriage, running up to Bruno in the front.
"Well, this is my stop. Thanks for the ride."
"No problem, kid. Take care."
"Thanks, you too."
Animus gave a quick wave before running off, mingling with countless adventurers and merchants as he traveled the main road. Many labyrinths were scattered throughout Shirone, and one could make a ridiculous amount of cash just by exploring their topmost levels. Animus considered this, wondering.
"Well... Paul did say I could go labyrinth diving, and I'll be able to make a quick buck. I'll put that on my to-do list."
Horses were rarer in the Shirone Kingdom than in Fittoa. Most of them were replaced by camels and a species of pink elephant. Colorful flags; triangular in shape; were hung in between the houses, giving the mainly brown infrastructure a pop of color.
Animus selected the first inn he saw and went in. It was tailored to D-rank adventurers, so the accommodations weren't the best. However, it would do for now. He wasn't going to stay in this city for long, anyway. The white-haired boy could have afforded to stay at a better hotel, but he liked to save every penny-bronze coin-he could.
...
"Right. Pardon the intrusion."
Animus stepped into the room he was given. Glancing around, he found it wasn't half bad. There wasn't much furniture, just a table with a few drawers, but it would be sufficient for his needs. The walls may be crumbling, but that was an easy fix. The windows were left open to the outside. The potential for theft was decently high if it was left open, so Animus considered adding some glass or even iron bars. The bed looked adequate, with a thin blanket and a sole pillow.
"Hmm... Alright, I'll fix everything up real quick."
He absentmindedly threw his baggy grey cloak onto the bed. A good amount of dust was on the bottom from trailing on the ground. He looked at the dirty robe with regret.
'Sorry for stealing your clothes, Lord Philip.'
Animus snapped his fingers, and a breeze blew through the room. It cleared away all the dust on the desk and floor. The walls were now even and smooth, not enough that you could see your reflection but enough for it to seem it was new. There were also actual windows now, glass in a wooden frame.
"First things first. A new cloak."
Satisfied, Animus decided what he needed to do first. Mage's robes were the first thing on his mind. The one he stol-borrowed from Philip was far too large, and making one from scratch would take more effort than he wanted to put in. With an oversized piece of fabric left forgotten on the bed, Animus headed out.
...
The young boy headed for the main road, wandering aimlessly when he finally did. He was new in this city, so he didn't know its layout yet. Luckily, the sun was still high in the sky, so he'd have plenty of time to waste running around like a headless chicken.
Thanks to sheer dumb luck and keen eyesight, Animus managed to spot a tailor after parading around for a few minutes.
"Could you show me some robes for mages?"
"Certainly. What elements do said mage prefer?"
The owner, influenced by Animus's childish voice and cheap getup, thought he was an errand boy.
"Water and Earth, thank you."
The owner went into the back. There were some shuffling noises as he grabbed a few robes and cloaks. Most were brown and blue, and a few had traces of green mixed into the pattern. It wasn't all that shocking if you considered the colors associated with water and earth. The clothes were all adult-sized, far too large for Animus himself.
"How is this one? It's made from the hide of a rainforest lizard from the great forest. Its water resistance is very high."
"Um, that robe's too big for me. Do you have anything smaller?"
The owner's eyes widened in realization when Animus said that. Quickly, he grabbed all the clothes he'd brought out.
"Right, sorry. I thought you were an errand boy. I'll be back in a moment."
The robes the owner took out were a smaller size this time. The coloring was more or less the same as the materials used to weave them were the same.
"These were made for halflings, but they should suit you. Here, look through these yourself. See if you find anything satisfactory."
Animus slipped on the first thing he saw to feel the size.
"It's still a bit baggy. Are there any smaller ones?"
"That's the smallest one I've got."
"They don't make mage's robes for kids?"
"Why would they?"
"I don't know? To play dress up?"
The owner barked a short laugh.
Animus made his way through the pile of clothes on the counter. They felt more or less the same, so he could focus on the protections.
"On second thought, do you have anything tough and resistant to fire?"
"Hmm... That one might cost a few coins more, but..."
The owner went into the back and rummaged through the pile of robes. He pulled out a brown robe with red rims. Upon further inspection, it was more maroon than brown. Some red thread was mixed into the leather. Placing it on the counter, he began explaining its materials.
"This one's made from the hide of a great earthworm. It's been reinforced with leather from a Fire Salamander, making it fire-resistant."
Animus picked up the robe to inspect it closer. The coloring was soft and pleasing, and the effects would do well to minimize the damage from explosions. The only downside was that it didn't have a hood.
"Do you have hats?"
"Why yes. There's a matching hat for the robe you are wearing."
"I'll take this robe and the matching hat."
"Certainly. I'll grab the hat for you."
The hat he returned with was the same shade of maroon as the robe. It was shaped like a stereotypical witch's hat. A red streak ran from the hat's top down to the rim.
"Thank you. Where should I leave the payment?"
"Just give them to me."
"Right. Is this the right amount?"
"Yes, this's right. Have a good day."
"Thanks, you too."
Animus struggled with placing the hat on his head. The hat often fell and covered his eyes as it was slightly too large. He had to constantly lift it back up, making him feel clumsy as he left the clothes store.
...
...
Animus went to sell his figures after buying clothes. He went into one of the more expensive-looking shops as he thought he could make more money there. The shop was nothing like the various merchants' stands lined up by the city gates. Instead, lines of dolls and figures were placed behind clear glass cases. The shelves seemed to be made of whiter granite than the usual kind. It was the sort of store aimed towards nobility.
The owner seemed reluctant to buy anything Animus offered, but his hesitant attitude gave a one-eighty when he saw the sheer quality of the dolls Animus brought out. The owner was even more willing when the white-haired boy pointed out the symbol he carved on all his dolls and Mystic Codes: The purple core of his Magic Crest.
Leaving the store with a good bounty in his comically small pouch, Animus had a satisfied smile plastered on. He intended to wander the marchet for a while as the sun was still high, but he realized he was being tailed. It was subtle at first: the clanking of armor and the familiar sound of a sword bouncing on a belt was all too common, but things started to get suspicious when the sound followed him.
This didn't make any sense. The boy was sure he hadn't pissed anyone off. He'd only been in this city for a few hours, and all he did was go shopping! The only logical possibility was that someone saw a seemingly defenseless rich kid running around without his parents' supervision and wanted to kidnap him.
He wasn't defenseless, however, so he was pretty sure he could fight anyone in this city and win. He didn't wish to cause a commotion in the middle of the street, so he turned into a dark alleyway. When he reached the end, he stood quietly and waited.
A female knight soon came into view. Her brown hair was tied behind her head. Blue eyes scanned the dark alley, eventually landing on the lone boy. The loose bang at the right of her face swished in beat with her footsteps as she neared Animus. When she was close enough, Animus noticed she was wearing what seemed to be a military uniform.
Animus didn't attack her. This woman obviously wasn't a kidnapper. No kidnapper walked with such stride. He waited for the knight to speak.
"Good day to you. I am the guard of the third prince of Shirone. My name is Ginger York. I was passing by and saw you sell figures created by the famous craftsman Lord Animusphere. Do you know where you got them?"
'Oh! So she wants to buy my dolls! But why didn't she buy the ones I sold to the shop owner?' Animus wondered. 'Were the prices too high? Does she think ordering them from me will be cheaper?'
"Oh, so you want my dolls? I can sell one to you for a gold coin if you want?"
"Apologies. I seem to have given the wrong impression. I wish to ask if you know the location of Lord Animusphere."
"Well, you're lookin' at him." The boy put his hand to his chest and bowed lightly. "Pardon the late introductions, but I am Animus Animusphere Greyrat."
"Then you are the one who created the figures?"
"Yes, I am."
"Please come with me. The third prince wishes to see you."
Ginger grabbed Animus's arm and began dragging him to the royal palace.
...
Led by the knight Ginger, Animus walked toward the royal palace. The road had so many twists and turns that Animus feared he'd get lost among the bustling carriages. The knight herself was quite taciturn, so Animus kept quiet for the majority of the walk. If he asked a question, she'd answer politely.
They eventually reached the castle after a long walk. It was considerably large, about the size of the manor in Roa. Ginger gave a bow to the guard at the gate. In response, he snapped stiffly to attention.
"Thank you for your dedicated service!"
"Come this way."
Ginger guided Aimus into the front entrance.
"Normally, only nobles are allowed through the front entrance, but the third prince has allowed you to enter."
"Oh. I guess I'll have to thank him later."
"This way.'
Ginger led the youth deeper and deeper into the palace. They climbed two spiraling staircases wide enough for three people to walk side-by-side. Eventually, they reached a door at the end of a hallway. There were two iron stakes with a curved steel bit on the tip. There was a row of large, sharp spikes in the curved steel. The oddly shaped weapon looked like an amateur-made staff to Animus.
"Please be prepared." Ginger pounded against the door. "This is Ginger. I brought Lord Animusphere with me."
"Wha?! You mean he was in-Ahem. Enter."
The voice first had the tone of an excited child opening presents on Christmas day but then changed into the regal voice of royalty. Ginger opened the door, and Animus went in obediently. Ginger followed closely behind him, muttering. Animus could faintly make out Ginger chanting a healing spell.
'Odd. Why'd she need to do that?'
The prince's bedroom, if you could even call it that anymore, was lined with rows of dolls and figures. They ranged from simple figures with barely distinctive features to dolls so delicately crafted you couldn't tell the difference from the real thing. Some were larger than a human, while others were smaller than Animus's fist. It goes without saying which ones were made by Animus using magic.
The person that should be the third prince was hunched over a table, his back facing the two people who just entered. He straightened his back and turned towards the two. The glare from the windows was reflected by his round glasses, obscuring his eyes. Now that his back was straight, it showed how tall he was. His thin stature only acted to emphasize his height. He was so skinny that his cheekbones were visible on his oval face. His hair was shaped like a bowl cut.
"I am Zanoba Shirone. The Shirone Kingdom's third prince." He said with a rigid look.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Animus Animusphere Greyrat. I hear you wished to speak to me?"
"Yes. Ginger, could you please leave the room."
"Of course." Ginger gave a bow and left. Animus saw her giving him a pitying look as she left for reasons he didn't understand.
"Now, I shall tell you about myself. I have a weakness for figurines, you see. I collect them from all around the world." Zanoba began as a sort of preamble. "Around two years ago, a craftsman by the name of 'Lord Animusphere II' began circulating. Within two short years, he made a name for himself and established himself as the most famous craftsman in Fittoa. His magical items and implements are now used by adventurers and nobles worldwide, and even the mages of Ranoa can't seem to beat him. What he is less known for, however, are his figures."
Animus nervously fidgeted as he listened to this prince recapping his entire life story. It wasn't comfortable, that's for sure.
"Look at this."
Zanoba brought out what he was studying earlier. It was the figure of a small girl sitting on a pillow. She wore a white dress with flowery trims of green. Her legs were pressed tightly against her body while her hands pulled the cloak's hood over her head.
"The creations of Lord Animusphere are ones I simply cannot understand. This figure is harder and heavier than the stonework used by dwarves. No one can chisel such delicate pieces from such hard rock. For example, look at this singular strand of hair. Even for the most adept dwarf, carving something so precisely in stone is impossible."
Animus grinned. It definitely wasn't easy carving something so intricate. He spent a decent of time finishing that one, so he was pleased it was being praised.
"Something this incredible was being sold for merely five Asura gold coins. I would have paid one hundred for this. It greatly pains me to know those living on the streets are so unrefined they can't even appreciate its value. Granted, it could be because of the figure's green hair color. People instinctively fear the Superds' hair color, so there could be several reasons this is being sold at such a low price." Zanoba shook his head in exasperation.
Animus nodded in agreement. Why should you discriminate against something as trivial as hair color?
"Now, let me explain this figurine to you."
The following words were like a flood. They were so quick and passion-filled that it almost made Animus shed tears.
"First, observe it from the front. A glance will tell you it's nothing more than a noble girl pouting. Look at the way she clutches the fabric and how it wrinkles. It's clear the clothes are meant for only the finest of aristocrates. The butterflies and plant-like designs show the pure skill of the one who crafted and painted this. And the way only her fingertips are exposed is ever so slight, emphasizing her shyness yet also showing her petite structure. Although her face is hidden by her hood, the strands of green hair that leak through will tell you much of why she is hiding it."
"Next, let's look at her from the side. From this angle, you can see her cheeks, but that's it. That's the only part of her face that's exposed. If it wasn't colored, it wouldn't amount to much, but the way it's been polished and painted shows the glistening of tears, rousing a sense of pity for the poor girl. From this angle, the dress doesn't look like a dress at all! Instead, it gives the illusion that it has transformed into a mage's robe. And hidden within a crevasse is a clasp. If you unclasp it, the baggy dress comes off in two pieces!'
"Now, if you turn the figurine back around, you'll find her arns now hug her legs to her body! How odd, you may say, weren't they pulling her hood down a moment ago? But look at the robe you just pulled off. You realize the arms were attached to it! With this little gimmick, you have two figurines in one! Truly genius. Constructing a figure with removable clothing forces the pose to be static, but hiding extra limbs gives a sense of freedom to her pose!"
"That's not the only thing. Now, let's observe all the changes when the cloak is removed. From the strands of green hair poking out of her hood, you'd think that her hair was green, making one think the figurine was of a Superd. But when you remove the robes and expose her head, she has white hair instead. Like her arms, the strands of hair are removed with the clothes. But why would the creator make such a big mistake with her hair color? Most people would pass it off as the maker being lazy, not wanting to color in her hair, but upon closer inspection, it is evident her hair has been coated with white paint. And the pointed ears and lack of a red gem on her forehead mean she isn't a Superd, but an elf. So how could the crafter make such a blunder? Well, it's not a blunder at all! There is a butterfly-shaped hairclip with circular patterns on the left side of her head. But even an amateur could tell you that they are magic circles. Why would the creator challenge himself to craft such delicate magic circles? To answer said question, we have to take a break from figurines."
Zanoba put the figure down and went to a drawer. He shuffled through the things inside and pulled out a hair clip.
"This is another one of Lord Animusphere's creations. It's a hairclip that changes the color of one's hair."
To prove his point, Zanoba clipped the hair clip into his hair. His hair transformed from brown to red. He put it next to the figure and continued talking.
"Now, look at the clip on the girl's head. The magic circles are exactly the same as the ones on the hair clip! Meaning this girl used the hairclip to change her hair color! The attention to detail is godly! Next, let's look at her face. Now that the cloak is gone, we can see her mouth curled into the ghost of a smile. The look in her eyes shows nothing but affection. Affection for whom, you wonder? That will be answered in just a moment. The glisten from the tear streaks now highlights her charm, no longer giving the feeling of sadness! The clothes she now wears are made from cheap leather and cloth, nothing like the expensive dress we just took off. And if you examine the pieces closely, you will find the signature symbol of Lord Animusphere woven on the inside of the hood."
"Now, with all the information, we can for a clear picture of this girl's backstory. As a child, this girl was bullied for having green hair. Even if she didn't have a red gem on her forehead, she looked similar enough for people to disregard that fact. But then Lord Animusphere took pity on this peasant girl and gifted her a hairclip to change her hair color and an expensive cloak to hide her hair if she ever lost the hairclip. Why do I think Lord Animusphere gave them to her? Because the items crafted by Lord Animusphere are too expensive for peasants to afford easily. And because this figurine is so detailed, it must mean Lord Animusphere knows the subject quite well. So the affection in her eyes is directed to Lord Animusphere! Genius! Truly genius! The story of this figure is hidden enough that it wouldn't be unveiled with a glance but clear enough that anyone could uncover it with a bit of time! This is an object of the most exquisite quality! It's far beyond what those crude dwarves could hope to achieve!"
Animus listened intently, not missing a single word he said. Most people would have been flabbergasted by his spiel. But as the creator, Animus digested everything he said with satisfaction and pride. Never once had he heard someone praise his works with such intense passion. It almost brought a tear to his eyes.
Now that he was finished, Zanoba put the figurine away and walked in front of Animus. His entire body suddenly fell to the floor, like a puppet with his strings cut. Animus backed away a step, not believing what he was seeing.
"My Lord! Creator of this figurine! I see from your robes that you are a mage! You used magic to make your figurines, didn't you?! My lord, I look at your creations every day. Every time I see them, I discover something new, and my respect for you grows stronger! Please! Allow me to call you 'Master!'"
He scurried across the floor like an insect as he spoke, trying to kiss Animus's shoes. Weirded out, Animus put up a barrier. Unexpectedly, the thin prince broke it as if it were glass and prostrated himself before the youth.
'He shouldn't have been able to break that.'
Eyes burning gold, Animus looked down at the person bowing before him.
'He's constantly using Mana to reinforce his body! That's insane! The sheer precision it would take!'
'Well, this body has nothing much to do besides being an errand boy, and having another student could open up new possibilities...'
"Alright, fine. Starting today, you'll be my apprentice. I'll teach you both magic and crafting. Acceptable?"
"Yes! Oh, thank you! Master! I shall follow you to the ends of the earth!" Zanoba replied energetically. He began leading Animus somewhere in the castle. "Please come with me, Master. I must ask the king to give you a reasonable salary."
And that's how Animus ended up with a slightly creepy apprentice.
...
The king's throne room was more or less the same as the others in the castle, although more considerable and lavishly decorated. Banners with Shirone's symbol lined the walls, covering a good amount of the bricks and stones. The throne was, obviously, at the back of the room, with a carpet leading to it. Two rows of five guards were positioned on both sides of it.
The king was a middle-aged man wearing royal clothes and a fancy crown. His age resembled Sauros's, his hair already turning grey and white.
Zanoba strolled up the carpet without a care in the world, Animus following close behind him. His steps were confident as if no one in the room could defy him. The ten knights on both sides of the carpet looked at Zanoba wearily. When he reached the end of the rows of knights, Zanoba spoke.
"Father. This is Lord Animusphere, the famous mage, and craftsman of Fittoa. He has so graciously agreed to be my master. Please arrange a room and salary at once."
The king sighed, a hand to his forehead. He was the spitting image of an exasperated father fed up with the shenanigans his children got into.
"Zanoba. That is a child before you. I may be old, but I have not gone senile. I'm almost certain the person you have with you is Animusphere."
"Preposterous. My master personally said he was the one who made the figurines. I have no reason to doubt his skills. His appearance might not show his age. There are dwarves and halflings in the world, Father."
Animus chose this moment to cut in.
"Um... This might not be a good time, but I'm human. I'm seven, almost eight this year."
"See, Zanoba? Even the child himself confirmed it. If you wish to apprentice under Animusphere this badly, I will send knights to Fittoa to look for him."
"What part of my words do you not understand, Father? My master stands before you. He listened to my lecture on his dolls and understood everything! He is my master!"
"I may be young, but I am Lord Animusphere II. My full name is Animus Animusphere Greyrat."
Animus decided to help his apprentice out by cutting in. Unfortunately, that seemed to have the opposite effect. The king rubbed his forehead, sighing deeply to himself.
"Please, cease this nonsense, child. What is it that you seek? Is it money, perhaps? I will give you a bag of Asuran gold coins if you admit to not being Animusphere."
Zanoba was quiet, yet his trembling smile contained fury beyond imagination. Even the best ten knights of the Shirone kingdom seemed to shiver under his presence. Animus sighed, seeing Zanoba's Mana concentrating around his limbs. Something told him that things'll get bloody real fast if he doesn't stop this soon.
'Let's see... What was the chant for that spell again? I've never used it, so I'll have to chant it first to use it wordlessly.'
"Oh, heavenly god of magic. Deny the unworthy your divine gifts."
"Father. Do not speak to my master that way."
Zanoba tried to walk towards the king. The ten knights responded in kind, surrounding the king in a defensive position. Luckily for them, Animus was one step ahead.
"Disturb Mana."
Animus had to jump a little to grab Zanoba by his collar because of their height difference, but once he did, he pulled back. Hard. Without his reinforced body, Zanoba toppled over.
"Stop using that spell of yours to threaten them. Can't you convince them by using normal methods?"
Zanoba immediately prostrated himself, begging for forgiveness.
"I apologize, master. It won't happen again."
"It's alright." Animus waved him off. A mischievous smile was on his face when he faced the king again. "Now, would you believe I was Animusphere if I took out all your guards with one attack?"
"That... certainly would be sufficient. But why not create one of your famous magic items or dolls to prove yourself." The king gave an acceptable suggestion, but Animus shook his head.
"That takes too long. Each doll I make takes around three hours, and a magic item takes a day."
The king nodded. "Very well, then. Proceed to the sparring grounds. I shall personally clear them out for this match."
"Of course. Thank you, Sire."
...
"The sparring grounds" was just a fancy name for a field on the castle's property. The field was barren, and only a few secluded areas had tuffs of grass growing. It was probably because the knights stepped on the grass too much. There were a few patches of ground where the texture was different like they had been repaired by earth magic hurridly.
On any other day, knights and apprentice knights would be using this field to train, but the king sent a messenger several minutes prior and had it cleared, saying there was something someone wanted to do. The various lazy apprentice knights were more than happy to oblige as they had more time to goof off now, but curiosity got the better of them. They, and their trainers, stayed at the edges of the field to see what was going on.
Moments later, the ten best knights of Shirone arrived on the scene, followed by the third prince Zanoba Shirone and a young boy they didn't recognize. From the robes the young boy was wearing, they could tell he was a mage. The king also emerged on the balcony overlooking the training grounds.
The knights quickly get into battle position, with the lone boy opposite them. The boy's gray eyes were dull and unfocused, almost like he wasn't paying attention to the knights about to attack him. He twirled a strand of white hair with his left hand. His other appendage reached into the small pouch on his waist. He pulled out a pair of glasses and put them on.
"You may begin."
"Harrah!"
With the king's approval, the knights charged at the lone boy. There was quite a bit of distance between them, so it took them a few seconds to get within striking distance. Those few seconds were all Animus needed.
Gray eyes turned blue and gold, and the Magic Circles carved onto the glasses' lenses increased the power of his Mystic Eyes. Celestial Eyes to see all, and Demons Eyes of Frost as the offense. As long as Animus could see it, he could freeze it. And Celestial Eyes allowed him unobscured vision. To dumb it down: Animus could freeze anything.
With the right timing, all the knights' shoes were frozen to the ground, and the ice that covered them was reinforced using Mana for extra durability. It would immobilize them long enough for his next spell.
Gold changed to green, and a magic circle formed in the sky, unseen to all as the sun's light's brightness greatly surpassed that of other stars' when viewed from this world. Ten comets fell from the Sea of Void, a tail of fire and ice trailing after them during their descent. They struck the struggling knights in the center of their heads. They toppled to the ground, unconscious.
The king was silent, and the knights were, as well. Zanoba was the first to break the silence, clapping with great enthusiasm while praising his master.
"Wonderful! Master, you defeated them without even moving!"
"Thank you for your praise, dear apprentice."
Animus nodded with a small smile. He turned to the king, hand on his chest as a slight bow.
"Will this be enough to test my worth, Sire?"
The king nodded, also smiling. Recruiting such a young and talented mage was a great boon for the country.
"Yes. It would be my great pleasure to have you as our second court mage."
"Court mage? I thought I'd be just a tutor?"
"Hmm? Is the position not satisfactory?"
"No, no. I'm quite happy with it. But why give me said position after only a small demonstration."
Animus had put the glasses back into his pouch. He rubbed them a little. Using his Mystic Eyes always tired them, and he hadn't used them for a long time.
"You can cast without incantations. That alone is enough to prove your worth."
"Hmm... If you say so, Sire." Animus paused. "Allow me one final question. You said 'second court mage.' Do you already have one?"
"Yes. We recruited her a few months ago. Her fame as a mage is unparalleled around these parts."
"Might I know her name?"
"If I remember correctly, her name is Roxy Migurdia."
Animus's eyes widened, mouth slightly agape. There was clear recognition within his eyes.
"Oh? So you are acquainted with her?"
Animus downplayed it, shaking his head to conceal his identity. Roxy hadn't had many students in the past. She only had one. So saying he was her student would blow his cover instantly.
"No, no. I've only heard that she's a Water Saint. I was merely...impressed that you have her under your service, that's all."
"Well, if that's your questions answered, we shall head inside to discuss your payment."
"Understood, Sire."
...
After returning to the throne room, they discussed payment and living accommodations. Animus said he booked an inn, but the king already had servants prepare a room for him in the castle. And, as expected from a royal manor, it was many times more luxurious than his crappy hotel. As for Animus's salary, they decided on five gold coins a month. It was higher than your average live-in tutor, but he also had the position of court mage. It was evident that his pay was better than other instructors.
After the servants fetched Animus's things from his inn and asked someone to wash Philips's dirty robe, he went to the room where he was supposed to teach Zanoba. He didn't bring much when he decided to visit Shirone, Animus had everything he needed in his small pouch, so it barely took him five minutes to organize everything.
He looked at the simple yet still royal accommodations. Granted, he wanted a bit more time to plan Zanoba's lessons, but the man had been so enthusiastic that Animus didn't have the heart to deny him. He may be a fifty-something-year-old at heart, but his seven-eightish body affected his mental state.
Standing in the front of the room, he'd pushed the table Zanoba sat at to the back. Moats of golden light trailed his hands as he snapped his fingers, and a blackboard and a box of chalk appeared from thin air. Zanoba took every chance he could to praise his master's brilliance, and this time wasn't an exception.
"First things first. Please stop using that spell to strengthen your body."
Zanoba had his head tilted in confusion, his mouth opened to form the rough shape of a rectangle. Animus was facing the blackboard writing, but he would have been greatly amused if he could see Zanoba's face.
"What are you talking about, Master? I am not using any spells. I have never learned magic before."
Animus's chalk stopped in its tracks. His grip was so tight that it snapped in two. He slowly turned around, staring at his apprentice with a disbelieving expression.
"You mean you don't even know?! You're doing it subconsciously?!"
Zanoba shriveled up in nervousness. Kinda odd, Animus thought. With that spell, he could easily crush someone of Animus's child-like form. Hmm... Goes to show how deep his admiration for the young boy goes.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what you speak of, Master."
Animus sighed, slumping in his stance. "Another genius who thinks he's an idiot..." 'He's kinda like me before I reincarnated.' "Surely you've noticed that your body is tougher than normal, or perhaps you possess abnormal strength?"
Zanoba perked up, nodding furiously. "Yes, Master. I have not informed you of this, but I am a Blessed Child. My body has been granted great strength and durability. Have you heard rumors of 'the Prince who Rips heads?'"
"No, I haven't. But that's because I'm from Fittoa." Animus scratched his chin. "So, you're a Blessed Child? I see, I see..." 'It seems no different than my reinforcement magecraft, though...'
"Master, have I upset you in any way?" Zanoba worriedly asked.
"No, no. It's just... I want to test something." Animus looked around the room. When he didn't see anything he could use, he sighed. "Tell one of your servants to bring two iron bars here."
"Of course. Ginger! Bring what Master had requested!"
"Yes, sir!"
The knight had stood by the room's door since the lesson started. It was standard procedure, Animus supposed. When she returned, Ginger had two iron bars in her hand. Each was about as long as Animus's arm and was half as thick. Animus handed one of the bars to Zanoba.
"Try and bend this."
"If that is what you wish, Master."
Zanoba took it and bent the steel rod without a second thought. He didn't even seem to struggle much. In his eyes, the unbreakable bar seemed like a fragile branch. When he handed the twisted beam back to Animus, Animus was carefully studying Zanoba's limbs using his Celestial Eyes.
"Disturb Mana."
Animus could see the Mana's structure within Zanoba's limbs becoming unstable. It began dissipating into the air. He handed the second bar to Zanoba.
"Now, try and bend this."
As Zanoba's fingers wrapped around the gray bar, Animus could see Mana trying to concentrate within his limbs. Keyword: trying. The effects of Disturb Mana prevented Mana from being manipulated in any way. And, as he suspected, no matter how much Zanoba groaned or pushed, the iron rod refused to bend. Zanoba was huffing at the end of it all, his face flushed as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
"I-I'm sorry, Master. I seem to have lost my touch."
"Like I thought..." Animus released the Mana from his hold. "You haven't 'lost your touch,' I simply sealed your 'Blessed Child' abilities."
"Wha...?"
"I've given back your powers. You should be able to bend that steel now."
Under Animus's gaze, Zanoba applied pressure on the metal pole. Sure enough, it bent effortlessly. As Zanoba stared at the bent bar while opening and closing his hands, Animus walked to the front of the room.
"Alright. I have a good idea of how your Blessed Child abilities work now." Animus picked up a piece of chalk. "First, I'll tell you what I think "Blessed Children" are. Simply put, they are people with changes in their Mana. Said changes allow them to cast extraordinary spells, such as teleportation. And, in your case, super strength. Understand so far?"
"Yes, Master!"
"Now, you are constantly using your Mana to reinforce your body. It's done on a subconscious level, so you don't feel the strain. That's why you're so powerful even though you're so skinny. Of course, if someone were to disturb your Mana, your superpower would vanish. Understand?"
Zanoba had a thoughtful expression. His eyes showed he was thinking intently and could understand what Animus said. "Yes... Yes! That makes sense! The tutors always said I had an abnormally small Mana Pool, but I must have been using my Mana to make myself stronger! Master! You are truly brilliant beyond words!"
"Hehehe..." Animus chuckled in a self-important manner. "Well, now that we have that settled, I'll start teaching you to control your super strength."
"Why would that be necessary, Master? Is it not better to be stronger?"
"I'll be teaching you to make dolls by hand and magic. With most of your Mana directed to your limbs, you won't have much reserved for my lessons. And crafting by hand requires delicate handwork, and using too much power can ruin a perfect figurine in seconds. Surely, you don't wish to destroy your own creation?"
Zanoba shook his head desperately. "No, no! I could never bare to break a figurine! But are you sure you will teach me the godly art of doll-making? Isn't that a skill reserved for gods?"
"You are my apprentice. What kind of master would I be if I didn't teach you anything? Surely you didn't expect me to lecture you for hours without letting you do work on your own?"
"Ah! Master! You are truly too kind!"
And that's how Animus established a connection with the Kingdom of Shirone.
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There will be two parts to this arc. Like every other arc in this fic.
And yes, the name is very long.
Anyways, Please like, share, follow, and comment.
As always, good luck with your game of life.