The Lone Wanderer

Percy fought against the pain and exhaustion to keep his eyes open, waiting for the others to return. Doing so proved almost as difficult as the battle itself.

Eventually, he heard the rhythmic flap of Micky’s wings. Tilting his head up, he saw the crow approach rapidly, dropping Nesha in a murky pond a few metres away, before landing next to him.

“Are you ok?! What happened here?!” the girl asked, scanning the ravaged battlefield.

It was full of craters and broken pieces of stone jutting out of the swamp waters, along with the occasional shard of teal faintly shimmering beneath the surface. Percy remained silent, merely pointing at Broose’s body, lying motionless by his side. That was explanation enough.

Nodding in understanding, Nesha then limped over. The bleeding in her leg had stopped, but her injury wasn’t fully healed. Percy didn’t miss the two vials clenched tightly in her hand, a verdant liquid swirling inside. They should’ve been more than enough to complete her recovery. Evidently, she’d chosen to hold on to them instead.

‘For me…’ Percy almost teared up.

Sure, he was the one who’d bought the potions in the first place, but it was the thought that counted. That said, he shoved the pointless thoughts to the back of his mind for now. They had more urgent things to worry about.

“Grab the corpse and take it to the others. Then, eat them all, starting from the strongest one.” he told Micky. “And hurry up. We’ll only get one shot at this.”

The crow didn’t hesitate. Scooping Broose’s body, he took off promptly. But Nesha didn’t seem as convinced this was a good idea.

“Are you sure this is the time to be experimenting with your soul? How about resting first?” she asked, though she still handed him the potions.

“The longer we delay, the less soul mana we’ll be able to extract from the carcasses.” Percy shook his head. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve gone through too much shit to mess it up now.”

Then, he pulled the last shard out of his chest, wincing in the process. Finally, he accepted the vials, uncorking them both before gulping them down, one after the other.

At first, blood gushed out of his wounds, but it slowed down to a trickle as soon as the potions took effect. About a minute later, the soreness in his muscles faded a little too, his exhaustion partially muted. He still wasn’t in the best condition, but he should at least be functional.

He tossed the empty vials one last glance before placing them in his pocket. Sadly, these had been the last of their potions. They’d have to be a lot more careful moving forward, as they no longer had the means to heal if they got injured.

‘I should have read up on potions while I was still in the Guild.’ he smiled bitterly.

Of course, it wasn’t like he’d had much spare time back then. His schedule had been packed with more important things. Besides, the potions would only grow less effective with each promotion.

Sighing, he walked over to a boulder sticking out of the water’s surface, sitting on it cross-legged. Taking a deep breath, he directed the ambient mana to his cores, activating his boosting art.

‘No time to waste. I need to refill my reserves by the time Micky starts sending me mana.’

“Nesha… can you please watch over me for a couple of hours?” he asked his companion.

The last thing he needed was to be interrupted by a wild beast during the delicate procedure. Nesha didn’t say anything, but he saw her nod by the corner of his eye. She might not be the most skilled combatant, but she shouldn’t have much trouble keeping a Yellow beast at bay. Not that there were many of those left in the swamp…

Next, Percy thought back to the scattered memories of his unfortunate clone, recalling how he was meant to proceed. Gathering some soul mana to his index finger, he inflicted a series of shallow incisions along his limbs and torso. It might have not been necessary, as his soul was plenty banged up already, but he didn’t want to stray from his “instructions”.

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‘It’s best to do it properly. Maybe those cuts are placed there for a reason…’

Percy finished his preparations just in time, as a river of soul mana gushed through the cord, filling his frame up in an instant. Obviously, this mana was from Broose, its quantity and quality reminding him of the Starry Knight’s. Unwilling to waste a single drop, Percy directed it to his wounds, supplementing it with mana from his channels. Nesha let out a surprised yelp, probably not having expected him to release such a colossal amount of soul mana from his body. ᚱα𐌽O͍ᛒĚṤ

But he wasn’t done just yet.

As soon as his first core reached an equilibrium, absorbing ambient mana from his lungs as quickly as it came, Percy moved some pure mana from his abdomen to his sternum. Next, he carefully poured as much into his first core as it could safely handle. The action made him feel bloated, the organ struggling to process the two streams of mana at once.

Yet, Percy wasn’t deterred. Capitalizing on the technique he’d spent the last couple of months mastering, he began the arduous process of converting one affinity to the other, adding a third source of soul mana to the mix.

‘This is all so complicated…’ Percy groaned, his head throbbing in pain.

There were way too many disparate tasks straining his already tired mind, and he had to juggle them all perfectly, as even the tiniest mistake could throw the whole operation in disarray. He had to keep enough mana in his channels to prevent Synchronization from fizzling out prematurely, and he also had to maintain Self-bestowal at a precise margin.

And finally, there was one last thing he needed to worry about.

As the three rivers of soul mana rushed out of his wounds, he brought all his memories of death and suffering to the forefront of his mind, trying to lace the mana with the right scent, to make it more enticing for his target.

‘Come on… Take a bite, will you? I went through so much trouble to prepare the perfect meal for you!’

Seconds became minutes, as Percy fought against his own body to keep everything in an equilibrium, the promise of power pushing him forward. Strictly speaking, he still didn’t know what exact benefit the mysterious creature might give him once he absorbed it, but his clone had made one thing clear:

It was worth it.

However, the first complication emerged sooner than Percy would have liked. No, his target had yet to approach. And no, he hadn’t made a mistake either. Instead, it was Micky who suddenly stopped feeding him mana.

‘What happened?! Don’t tell me Broose’s soul has run out already?!’

Not that he was keeping track of time, but he felt it hadn’t been nearly long enough. Had he simply been too absorbed in the operation to register the passage of time, or had the man’s soul deteriorated too much?

Either way, Micky didn’t say anything. Instead, he responded by moving on to the Yellow corpses, a new trickle of mana soon flowing through the cord. Of course, it paled in comparison with the last one, but it couldn’t be helped.

‘It is what it is, I suppose…’ Percy sighed, returning to the task at hand.

This would certainly make things more difficult, but it didn’t necessarily mean they’d failed. That was something they’d only determine at the end, after they’d fully exhausted every last drop of mana. Right now, his best bet was to keep going for as long as he could.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed Synchronization even further, delving into a dangerous territory. His channels burned, as his cores felt like they were about to burst, but the flow of soul mana strengthened ever so slightly. That said, this wasn’t enough to make up for the loss.

Next, he switched his attention to the Self-bestowal spell. It worked tirelessly to transform the mana from one affinity to the other. But it wasn’t good enough. Not fast enough.

Pushing the technique along, one small nudge at a time, Percy risked giving himself mana poisoning to eek a few more drops of soul mana out of the spell. At the same time, he delved even deeper into the conversion process, focusing on the very natures of the involved affinities.

Pure and soul mana were different in many ways, but similar in others. Both appeared soft and weak at first, with pure mana making for flimsy constructs that crumbled easily, and soul mana not even perceptible to the naked eye, nor particularly effective in a fight when used blindly. In fact, Percy had personally suffered from this perceived “weakness” of each of his cores at different times.

‘But that’s just an illusion, isn’t it?’

Neither of these mana types was truly as they seemed. When used correctly, soul mana was one of the deadliest. By now, he had already honed it into the sharpest, most potent weapon in his arsenal. And that was without mentioning its utility in mending and preserving souls, or the unprecedented interaction with his Clone bloodline that had given him so much.

And the same was true for pure mana. While it was widely considered the weakest affinity, that only held true for those too ignorant of its many uses. Whether it was the revolutionary elixirs that had turned Remior upside down, or the reinforced constructs that elevated his cyan mana into a true pillar of his arsenal, pure mana held its fair share of secrets once one dug deep enough.

‘Both of them are brimming with untapped potential!’

At that moment, something clicked in Percy’s mind, as his understanding and appreciation of the two affinities rose to a new level. Responding to his thoughts, the cyan mana in his sternum began to shift even more rapidly, seemingly eager to transform. His soul core, too, started devouring the substance with even greater zeal, as Percy’s Status finally pitched in.

[Congratulations! Your spell has evolved: Self-bestowal – Crude -> Soul Conversion – Refined!]

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