Chapter 47: Brewing

Once Hit finalised the groundwork for his mission, he made a beeline towards the southwest, skulking within alleyways this time as preparation for the next stage of his task. The man had chosen to make a game of tailing anyone he came across along the way, as practice for his imminent espionage within the far more sinister region of Daedalus Street. Hit now kneeled on a bungalow's roof and frowned down at an interesting sight.

A group of armoured ruffians stood in a circle chuckling darkly to one another, their yellowed teeth giving the gathering a sense of rottenness. Simple leather armour covered the men's bulky bodies, with most of the neglected vestments being caked in dirt and grime from the wastrels' unkempt lifestyles. The menacing individuals were surrounding a lone male adventurer, who shook at the terrible turn of events. The unfortunate fellow was a young human wearing beguiling crimson robes, likely the reason for his capture.

The apparent leader of his assailants, a muscly, bearded human, chuckled darkly and inched closer to his victim, arms spread apart as a faux peace offering, offset by the dagger clearly visible in his belt. "Look, kid. We don't wanna hurt ya. Just hand over everything you've got, and we'll be on our merry way. What do ya say?" Lips parted to reveal a toothy grin, beset by an array of glimmery golden teeth. His lackeys mimicked their leader and closed in around their prey, cackling at its whimpers and rising desperation.

Surprisingly, fury burned in the cornered man's eyes, and he extended an arm towards the most imposing of his opponents, daring him to take another step. "S-Stay back, o-or I'll burn you all to a crisp!" Brown eyes shivered as hatred and panic darted across them, an external manifestation of the man's internal struggle to use deadly force.

The cage of criminals guffawed at the pitiful attempt at intimidation, with some holding onto their companion's shoulders for support. The leader was no different and craned his head skywards as he unleashed bellows of laughter. "GAHAHAHA!" He wiped away tears of laughter and held his head in pity for the poor boy. "Pretty poor excuse for a bluff, lad! Like an urchin like you could…"

Enchanted light blazed in the dim corridor as a fiery magic circle burst into life a few inches from the young lad's arm: it was an energy projection inlayed with numerous winding lines and alien symbols that pulsed with an incandescent rage that hungered to burn everything in its path. The alley's walls became an infernal plane as a circle of demonic shadows danced upon it, their jittery movements becoming more erratic as the ring of ruffians shivered in fright.

The cornered adventurer strained as he began chanting a powerful vow to smoulder everything in creation. "Oh, mighty Ifrit who presides over infernos, I call upon you now to uphold your promise to blaze upon…"

His commanding voice forced his opponents into action: the previously assured assailants stepped back, gaping at the impossible display from someone so young. Their chief was far more experienced with matters of life and death, and was able to unsheathe his dagger, worry dripping down his ashen face in the form of a cold sweat. "A-A Mage! Cut out his tongue!"

*Whooosh*

This horrifying order seemed to have an unexpected effect as the mage halted abruptly in his speech. Crimson lines vaporised from the earthly plane, leaving behind nothing but a warm breeze and gasps of relief. Their creator shivered in fear and drew his arm back, realising his deadly mistake.

The head bandit adopted a feral grin and stepped forth, regaining his absolute confidence in the situation. "IDIOT! Even a musclehead like me knows that you need far longer than that to cast yer spell, kid! You must be a novice guttersnipe from the school district!" He then tensed himself, readying to zip ahead at the petrified boy in front of him. "I can't just let you go after that little display, brat… Besides, if you're going to go for the kill, you've gotta follow through…!"

*Crash*

*Clatter*

Suddenly, a rock hurtled into the head bandit's chest, forcing the man to fly backwards and crash into a faraway dilapidated wall, sending shrapnel flying in all directions. His accomplices gaped at the abrupt projectile and turned around, seeking whoever dared to defy them, yet their baffled mugs were greeted by a vacant roof. The supposed second-in-command growled and waved his hands across the group, calling them to arms. "You lot go find the dead man who did this! I'll help the Cap'n." Orders received, the band hurried to chase after their unseen enemy, shouting battle cries as they went.

Unfortunately for them, Hit had already zipped behind them, and was now watching them run off from a shop's roof with an incredibly disappointed expression on his face. 'Idiots… These must be level ones, pathetic ones at that. What a waste…' Stealth training was largely useless for Hit at this point, who was already capable of remaining undetected by the city's strongest level six adventurers, not to mention his previous life's mountain of experience. The man's red eyes darted down again, now focusing on the shivering student mage, who stealthily inched away from his position and finally ran into the western road.

'Let this be a lesson for you, boy. Chant magic is utterly useless for close quarters combat. Not to mention how conspicuous it is…' Hit had to admit that the student's magic circle was nothing short of incredible, reverberating power that promised annihilation; however, it was completely pointless for surprise attacks and covert operations. Nevertheless, inspiration filled Hit's heart. His eyes twinkled, seemingly entranced by the boy's embers of power. 'Magic circles… Such a peculiar phenomenon with no obvious purpose. I believe Riveria stated that the mage development ability results in their projection, with written records stating that their radiation occurs without the caster's conscious effort… Hm… That gives me an idea…'

In this world, magic circles are a visual representation of the mage development ability in effect: an emboldening aspect of the falna that strengthens one's magic power to the next level. Therefore, they were visual proof that a person possessed the mage DA, a feature that was quite useful for Hit at this moment in time.

'If I could create a magic circle of my own, Andromeda would almost certainly believe that I selected mage as a development ability. I recall Riveria stating that Airmid Teasanare can create the structures, despite not possessing the required ability… Although, are her projections truly magic circles or an aspect of her mystery development? Nevertheless, the phenomenon suggests that they can arise in the absence of 'mage'...'

Hit was becoming increasingly steeped in unknowns and so decided to press on, lest he allow himself to stagnate in place. He thought back to every magic circle he had witnessed: Riveria's, Ryuu's, and now this boy's crimson spiral. 'An outward projection of energy will always be an inefficiency. It is for that exact reason that I did not normally allow my body to expel ki in my past life. The energy was perpetually locked within my body, fulfilling its required purpose in empowering and shielding me. If I wish to manifest my magic energy externally.' Hit extended his right arm, nodding to himself. 'I must attempt to perform the opposite of my body's natural restraints during casting.'

.

..

…

Minutes passed as Hit calculated his actions and felt within himself, sensing the volatile magic energy coursing through his body and soul that was ejected each and every time [Time Lag] or [Time Prison] were cast. He willed it to stir from within his heart; progress to his shoulder; trickle down his arm; and, finally, arrive at his extended hand.

The appendage trembled under the immense exertion that Hit applied to it as he replicated the feeling of casting a spell; however, he provided no exit or conduit for the storm of energy to exit his body.

Veins pulsed across Hit's upper body as energy continued to accumulate: a substance that was becoming increasingly agonising to withhold. Hit gritted his teeth and focused on the magic circle within his mind's eye: one that he had initially designed himself following weeks of rigorous study. He continued to push his body's limits, powering through the pain with a heavy scowl as the titanic dam of energy threatened to burst forth. 'You are merely a facet of my being, so do as I command!'

*Thrum*

Finally, it happened. Masses of magic energy accumulated at an immovable dam and took the path of least resistance: as the creation of a magic circle, one that was entirely alien to this plane of being.

A spinning hypersphere materialised before Hit's outstretched arm and rotated in place, glowing in a gossamer amaranth hue in the morning light. The fourth dimensional structure was comprised of infinite spheres of diminishing sizes, each spinning in opposite directions from one another. Inside each construct, individual cells were separated by barriers akin to 'latitudes' and 'longitudes' and were inlayed with alien hieroglyphic symbols and swirls of spinning rays of 'light'. It was an imposing structure of infinite complexity, yet Hit was able to comprehend its intricacies perfectly.

Hit had successfully 'over-charged' his magic expulsion without it resulting in its usual output (a spell), leading to the energy seeking an output of least resistance. However, a specific energy threshold was required, leading to nearly all of Hit's energy being consumed in the laborious task. In essence, Hit had mimicked the effect of the mage DA, which signalled the boosting of an adventurer's magic, and emitted a magic circle as a visual inefficiency. He had 'tricked' the falna into believing that he had cast an incredibly powerful spell, whereas, in actuality, all of his reserves had been used to 'boost' a non-existent expulsion.

This was a novel feeling for Hit, as it meant that he would have to purposefully waste immense quantities of energy, something that he had never done before. Of course, this also explained why Hit was unable to spontaneously emit a magic circle: it was not a strategy that he would instantly develop himself. However, now that he knew the exact frequency and vibration to conduct the energy, it would be relatively simple to replicate.

'Huff. All of this exertion simply to get Andromeda to lower her guard… Am I being overly paranoid?' Hit shook his head: he had to make the most of his imminent interrogation. 'Hm… Everything seems to be in order: Chronons and longitudinal waves are oscillating at the correct frequency. However, this is far too complex for anyone here to understand. Nor would I wish them to comprehend the concept.'

The difficulty of this recent development roused a surprising amount of newfound respect for Airmid Teasanare, the only person Hit knew of who could perform a similar feat. 'She must be a prodigy beyond measure to perform this while simultaneously casting her spells. The woman's energy capacity must be well beyond her written level.'

Airmid Teasanare acted as the world's greatest healer, capable of casting the miraculous spell «Dia Fratel», a blessing to mankind that could heal all grievous wounds, recover anyone's stamina; and cure curses or status ailments with ease. Despite being a level 2, without the mage DA, she is also capable of empowering her magic by generating a diamond-shaped magic circle, raising her abilities beyond that of an elixir: the most powerful healing item in creation. No one was certain why Airmid was capable of such a feat; however, one could make an informed assumption that she was simply a genius beyond measure by the falna, as was Hit.

Hit exerted himself once more and forced his hypersphere, the manifestation of his magic, to coalesce and shift, before settling it into a two-dimensional floating disc. The construct was no less beautiful; however, it was now far less complex than before: comprised of a violet circle divided infinite subdivisions, each containing a myriad of spinning particles and symbols. Unlike within conventional magic circles, the symbols seemed to 'overflow' past an infinite event horizon, becoming infinitesimally small. Hit finally allowed himself to relax and dismissed the projection, stretching his hand open and closed. 'Hm… It seems we both learned something today, kid.'

Good deed done for the day, Hit stuffed his hand into his pocket and scampered away, resuming his previous rooftop means of travel until he came across a familiar shop, slightly north of the west road. He let himself fall down onto the granite pavement and made his way through the establishment's main door.

*R-ring*

A familiar dull bell sounded as Hit entered the Blue Pharmacy, somewhat of a rarity for him due to how few healing potions he required. He instantly set about scanning the shop's goods, looking for any new stock that might be of use to him.

Towards the front, a chienthrope cashier wiped her tired eyes with a closed fist, woken up by the shrill bell. The woman stared ahead, slightly vexed at being disturbed from her nap, but calmed down once she recognised the newcomer.

Naaza Erisuis smiled lightly at Hit, waving her tail languidly behind her as she waited for the silent boy to finish his perusal. She was quite grateful for the mysterious adventurer, who had alighted unto their shop completely out of the blue. Usually, it took considerable marketing for them to attract even a single customer, who, more often than not, would choose to shop elsewhere shortly after, likely due to Dian Cecht's bribery and intimidation. Yes, Hit had been a huge boon for her Familia's sole business, and she was always pleased to see him.

Light humming indicated that the Familia's only other member had also arrived on the scene, taking a break from their potion crafting and elixir design. He was a tall man with long silky blue hair, who radiated a beauty and radiance that trumped any mortal's as he sauntered along the shop's wooden floor. This was the God Miach, who cast a kind smile at his humble shop's regular customer. Although, a determined expression managed to snake its way onto his face, which manifested as a slight furrowing of his brows. "Ah! It's always nice to see you, Hit. Welcome! I hope you are doing well on this fine day." The deity's only response was a brief grunt from the distrusting Hit, who had picked up a high potion, one that had been sitting in their shop for quite some time.

Miach's eyes twinkled at the opportunity. "Oh! That's currently on sale, Hit. Half price for only 10,000 valis!"

Hit sighed to himself and approached the counter, placing the high potion in front of Naaza, who became even more elated. "Nice try. I will not be receiving any handouts from you." He then unslung his backpack and took out a cheque book, before quickly writing out the required information and handing the torn-out leaflet to a drooling Naaza. Hit crossed his arms and stared into Miach's aquamarine eyes, willing them into submission. "Do not even think of lowering the amount, foolish deity." Strangely, Hit's acts of intimidation were rather ineffective on the God, who would always act bashfully or respond with kindness.

This time was no different, as Miach held a hand to his heart, pained that he had once again failed in his attempt at charity. "I-I would never do such a thing! No matter how much I would like to…" The ageless being sighed and pouted, in a rather youthful fashion. "Come now, surely I can offer you something! I still owe you at least 4300 valis from your first purchase here…"

"Was it not 4000 valis, Lord Miach?" Naaza piped up from beside her God, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Hit mimicked her expression and held a hand to his chin, appearing to think deeply on the query. "Hm… I believe it was 3000 valis…"

Miach stomped a foot down and whined at the two fibbers. "Ohhhh, stop it, you two! It was 4300 valis! I can tell that both of you are lying!" The man then seemed to become rather tired from his exertion, as he swayed to the right, eyes becoming unfocused. Naaza gasped and quickly got up to catch her beloved God, blushing at the impromptu embrace.

Miach intensified her blush by patting the woman on the head, forcing her soft ears to flop up and down. "T-Thank you Naaza… I can always rely on you… Huff. Why do you have to be so stubborn, Hit…"

"I am not being stubborn. I simply do not see any reason in receiving subsidies from an impoverished Familia." Hit's air of hostility left him slightly as his eyes roamed over Miach's body, which appeared slimmer than the last time he had seen the man. "You are becoming thinner, deity. You will perish if you continue to starve yourself."

Naaza's eyes widened as a horrified expression stormed onto her face. "I-Is what he says true, Lord Miach!?" The woman forgot her prior bashfulness and felt at Miach's stomach and extremities, gasping at how thin they felt.

It was now Miach's turn to redden as he attempted to shy away from the girl's tickling touches. "I-It was only a few meals, really! T-There really is no need for this Naaza! N-Naaza! T-That's too low down!"

Hit grumbled and pawed at his face as he watched Miach feebly attempt to escape his child's stern glares and forced care. 'Great… my reason for being here has gone up in flames…' Hit might be a smidge greedy, but he refused to sell valuable herbs to Miach knowing that the moronic deity was starving himself to support his business.

"You are going to eat today, Lord Miach, whether you like it or not!" Naaza's desperate cry forced Hit to focus back on the two idiots, to see that Miach had been tied up by his child, using rope that was previously on display. The determined chienthrope then rolled up her sleeves and made to march towards the Familia's backroom. "Stay there, Lord Miach. I will retrieve some supplies for you!"

Miach wanted to do anything but stay in his current position, yet he could only wriggle on the ground in futility. "N-Naaza! You can't do this to your God! And I'm not hungry right now! We cannot afford to waste our food stores, given our debt!"

Hit decided to put a stop to this madness and called out in a commanding voice. "Enough. I have a solution that will benefit us all." Naaza and Miach both quieted at this and turned to face him, which proved more difficult for Miach, who had to shuffle in place.

Hit huffed and placed his backpack fully on the shop's counter, before reaching into it and pulling out several bundles of herbs. "I am willing to provide your organisation with rare produce, with the stipulation that you will fabricate potions for sale. All I ask for, in return, is a percentage of your earnings."

Naaza shook as she approached the now plentiful counter, nearly drooling at the purple and green herbs that graced its surface. Sleepy brown eyes sparkled for the first time in years as they savoured the impossibly rare items that she herself had barely ever seen. "W-Where did you get these wondrous plants!? These are perfect ingredients for the highest quality elixirs, panaceas, and magic potions!" The alchemist was running out of supplies, forcing her to dilute the shop's potions slightly, and was desperate for any new sources of produce. These precious herbs would last her weeks! …At least when fabricating standard potions.

Hit crossed his arms and maintained an emotionless exterior: a state that directly opposed his mind's condition, which was swimming with glee at entrapping the woman with his valuable commodities. "Trade secret. Now, do you accept my terms? I ask for 25 percent of your earnings on any items produced using the herbs I provide you with from now on." It was not very noble for Hit to take advantage of the destitute fools; however, they would all be reaping the rewards from this arrangement. Hit did not know why Naaza did not venture into the dungeon herself; the woman was certainly powerful enough to do so. However, Hit was not someone to pry into others' private affairs, as long as they did not cause trouble for others, of course.

Naaza and Miach both cried out in dismay, for opposing reasons.

"That's too much!"

"That's too little!"

The two gasped and stared at one another, stubbornly, both unwilling to back down. However, one look at Miach's sagging clothes forced Naaza to give in with a heavy sigh of longsuffering. The chienthrope hung her head, yet could not stop her tail from wagging as thoughts of brewing potions with her precious God drifted through her mind. "Huff. Fine, Mr Hit… We accept."

'Excellent!' Hit smirked at closing his first ever trade deal in this world and picked up a nearby blank sheet of paper, which rested next to Naaza's usual sitting position. After a brief series of scribbles, he then pushed the sheet over to Naaza for her to scrutinise. "This shall serve as our contract. Sign it, should you wish to truly enter into a pact."

Naaza hesitantly picked the sheet up and scanned over it, noting that it simply reiterated Hit's verbal offer and his supposed signature. This apprehension was only natural for the woman, since accepting a predatory loan with Dian Cecht was what cursed the Miach Familia into near destitution. Naaza breathed in and out to calm herself and nodded with absolute certainty. She would place her faith in this miraculous boy.

"Very well. I accept, Mr Hit." The assured woman picked up a nearby pen and signed her name beside what she assumed was Hit's own signature, although it was written using hieroglyphs that she was unfamiliar with. Naaza then lowered herself into a crouching position and freed Miach's hand, placing the pen into his grasp.

The God huffed and added a hieroglyphic signature below his child's, looking at her with loving eyes. "You know, this would be quite a lot easier if you simply freed me, Naaza dear…"

Naaza huffed at her God, still not forgiving him, and stood back up to face her new business partner. She gave the contract back to Hit with a nod and watched him place the precious sheet, and purchased high potion, away into his tattered rucksack. Surprisingly, the boy then handed her another piece of paper, one that was far smaller. Hit then zipped up his pack; placed it atop his back; and marched away.

"That better not be more money, Hit!" Miach struggled to raise himself, and instead resorted to inching his way across the ground, feebly attempting to chase after the overly charitable boy.

Naaza smiled, a quiet giggle escaping her as she gazed at Hit's second cheque, which increased his expenditure today to 40,000 valis.

..._..._..._..._..._..._..._..._..._

Receiver: Blue Pharmacy. Sum: 20,000 Valis.

Reference: Food for the moron.

Sender: Hit, Loki Familia, Twilight Mansion.

Signature: Hit

..._..._..._..._..._..._..._..._..._

Miach recognised his child's obvious gratitude and slumped onto the ground, giving up his chase as Hit vacated the property, its bell acting to signify the god's umpteenth defeat to the hands of a mortal. "Why does he keep doing this!?" Miach then wriggled onto his stomach, looking rather dishevelled at his loss. "Okay, Naaza, you can free me now… W-Where are you going?" Strangely, Naaza was retreating from him, walking with an uncharacteristic pep in her step.

Slowly, the woman turned around, gracing her God with an extremely unsettling expression, at least for the ordinarily emotionless girl. Naaza grinned at her God, looking like the perfect housewife as she cupped her cheeks. "Why, to find something to feed you with, my dear Lord Miach! Our decanting funnel should do nicely." She then skipped away, humming as she made her way to get some food, leaving the terrified God to return to his inchworm routine.

Hit grumbled to himself as he marched down Orario's western road, feeling ambivalent regarding his most recent expenditure and trade deal. 'Why must I keep wasting my money there…' Of course, Hit knew the reason: he had an enormous soft spot for hard workers, no matter how idiotic they were. 'For Zeno's sake, what kind of God requires intimidation to take care of themselves…' Hit smiled; this flaw of Miach's was one of the only reasons he felt any goodwill towards the Gods of this world, a feature that set them far apart from the unfeeling destroyers of his past one. 'Regardless, that was somewhat of a success. Passive income stream 1 acquired.'

He then stopped in front of an insipid-looking tavern, which fell quite short of Mia's Hostess of Fertility. It was constructed out of oak and was twice the size of Mia's inn, whilst possessing far less charm. A black and white emblem was burned onto a plaque on its peak, detailing an unworn feathered hat, surrounded by feathered wings. Oddly, two orbs rested where the person's ears would lie, making them appear like potara earrings… Stepping closer to the entrance, Hit was greeted by a wooden plaque, upon which was engraved: 'Traveller's Inn'.

'There are few other options. This is likely the best place in the world where I can learn of my ability. It's either this, or blindly groping in the dark with time-wasting experiments, or approaching completely unknown individuals.' Certain that this would be an arduous challenge, Hit resolved himself and knocked on the Hermes Familia home's wooden door.

Author's Notes

Naaza tomorrow: "Miach. We need to cook…"

Poor guy, he really cares about his shop and Naaza...

Don't worry, there aren't any potaras here; I was simply making an observation that the little orbs on Hermes' emblem look like them. Hm… although what would some fusions be called.

Bell + Hit would make Hell! Or Bit, which sounds far less cool. Oh! But if Bit fused with Miach, he'd be… oh…

I have no idea how magic circles are generated in Danmachi; however, they seem to boost magic and are a representation of the mage DA at work. Their visibility is a conspicuous disadvantage to fighting in the dungeon and they likely draw unwanted attention. The generation of the energy construct is also an inefficiency, no matter how small. I therefore think of them as being a separate energy reservoir that Mage can supplement to boost magic. Adventurers normally have no control over this and it operates akin to the falna as an invisible boosting force. Here, Hit forced his energy into this reservoir by preventing it from being expelled via a spell. (Obviously magic circles are simply there to make spells more visually pleasing and make it clear for the audience when spells are cast; however, I am considering them as inefficiencies here.). TLDR: I made it up as usual.

Thank you JensenDaniels32. Not sure what parts you enjoy or dislike, but nice you're enjoying the story. I don't plan on giving up, but there will be a big break to write part 2 of season 2. I prefer to write this in larger blocks.

I made a little signature emblem for Hit, but FF does not allow images. Placed on the wattpad version.