Chapter 3: The Plasma Cutter
I take a deep breath and look around for the first time, really checking my area. I'm in a small clearing with a large tree in the center, which I had been leaning against. I look toward the sky from below the branches and realize I can't see anything, so I step out from under the canopy.
"Well, shit," I whisper.
I close my eyes, count to ten, and look up again. Nope, it didn't change. There are still two of them. I just shake my head, because when I look up, I don't see the beautiful, solitary moon I'm used to. I see two—one bright silver and one bright blue—and they seem way closer than they should be. The sight is alien, but it is undeniably beautiful.
I walk back to my tree. Well, I know I'm not going to sleep, and I don't see any branches low enough to climb, so I'm stuck on the ground.
"Guess I'll try out the new magic," I mutter. "Here we go."
I look over my Talent. Imagination Manifestation. The ability to generate and refine Soul-Steel.
I hold my hands out in front of me, palms up, and concentrate. I imagine pulling the energy from my chest, pushing it down my arms, and letting it pool in my hands. The air above my palms shimmers, and with a soft, resonant hum, a chunk of metal materializes. It is beautiful—a dark, incredibly dense metallic ore with a faint, sapphire-blue sheen. Soul-Steel.
I grab it with both hands. It's heavy, but the moment I push a little bit of my mana into it, the surface yields. It feels like perfectly pliable modeling clay. I start working it with my thumbs, smoothing out the rough edges, pulling and pinching the material until it forms a simple, razor-sharp knife.
The moment the edge sets, a sharp wave of exhaustion washes over me.
[Exp: +5]
I slump back against the tree, letting out a heavy breath. But just as quickly as the fatigue hits, that thrumming energy beneath my skin cycles back up. With my Intelligence stat sitting at 45, my body naturally pulls in ambient magic, filling the tank right back to the top. In a few moments, the tiredness passes.
"Okay. Bigger," I whisper.
I hold my hands out again and push harder. A second, much larger chunk of Soul-Steel materializes, dropping into my lap with a heavy thud. I pick up my newly minted knife and press it against the new chunk of metal. To my amazement, they fuse seamlessly together, blending like two pieces of putty.
I start shaping it with my hands again, pulling the mass into the rough length of a sword. But as I work the metal, a thought hits me. This is magic. What else can I do with this?
I close my eyes, tap into the well of mana burning in my chest, and just let my imagination run wild. I picture a sword. Not just a basic longsword, but a wicked, sleek blade ripped straight from one of my favorite anime. I picture the aggressive curve of the edge, the heavy guard, the exact way the hilt should lock into my grip. I push that pure, raw image directly into the Soul-Steel.
Suddenly, the metal shifts on its own.
I gasp, pulling my hands back slightly, but the Soul-Steel keeps moving. It ripples and flows, snapping into perfection. It is bending entirely to my willpower. I don't need a hammer or a forge; I just need to project my desires into the mana, and the metal obeys. The blade sharpens to a devastating edge, and the hilt perfectly forms to my hand.
It is the coolest thing I have ever seen.
And then my vision completely blurs.
My chest heaves as a crushing wave of lethargy slams into me, far worse than the first time. I drop the sword into the dirt and scramble to pull up my status screen.
[Mana]: 115 / 850
"Holy crap," I wheeze, clutching my head.
The realization hits me instantly: generating and shaping Soul-Steel through pure imagination drains mana at an absolutely terrifying rate. If my Gemini Soul didn't literally give me the mana capacity of two entire lifetimes, making that sword just now would have killed me.
I take a few deep breaths as the feeling fades. I barely have time to process the headache leaving before a sharp snap of breaking branches echoes through the dark clearing.
I freeze. My breath hitches.
From the shadows between the trees, a pair of glowing, sickly yellow eyes locks onto me. A low, guttural growl vibrates in the air, deep enough that I can feel it in my chest.
Oh, perfect. Because of course, I think.
A massive shape steps into the moonlight. It looks like a wild boar, but completely wrong. It's the size of a pickup truck, and instead of fur, its back and shoulders are covered in jagged, overlapping plates of dark stone. It scrapes its front hoof against the dirt, lowering a head crowned with two massive, jagged tusks.
For a split second, my brain screams at me to curl up and play dead. But then a strange, icy calm washes over me. My heart rate steadies. My panic immediately dials back to a manageable, clinical hum.
It is the He Who Walked With Death title. The System is actively blocking my fear response.
The boar squeals, a sound like grinding rocks, and charges.
I scramble to my feet, my grip tightening on the hilt of my newly forged Soul-Steel sword. It is perfectly balanced, but with my Strength sitting at a measly 10, it feels heavy. There is no way I'm going to chop through solid rock armor with sheer muscle.
It's closing the distance fast. Thirty feet. Twenty.
I have 115 mana left. I don't need a massive spell; I just need an edge.
I focus on my skill: Thunder Surge.
I picture the remaining mana in my chest sparking to life. I push it down my arms and directly into the hilt of the sword. The reaction is violent and instantaneous. A sharp, deafening CRACK of thunder echoes in the clearing. Brilliant, sapphire-blue lightning erupts from my hands, wrapping around the dark metal of the blade like a roaring aura of power. The air instantly smells of heavy ozone.
The surge doesn't just coat the sword; it feeds back into my arms. My muscles twitch, hyper-charged by the elemental ignition. The heavy sword suddenly feels as light as a feather.
Ten feet.
I don't try to dodge. I step right into the charge, pivoting on my back foot, and swing the lightning-wreathed sword with everything I have, aiming right for the boar's thick, armored neck.
The blade connects. It doesn't bounce. It doesn't even slow down.
The sapphire lightning acts like a super-heated plasma cutter. The sword shears cleanly through the stone plating and the thick muscle beneath. The electrical discharge explodes outward, sending a massive shockwave of blue static through the beast's body.
The boar's momentum carries it past me. It crashes hard into the dirt, sliding a few feet before slamming into the base of my tree.
It twitches once, sparks of residual blue lightning dancing across its stone armor, and then goes completely still.
I stand there, my chest heaving, the Soul-Steel sword still crackling faintly in my hand. "Okay," I pant, wiping a streak of sweat from my forehead. "That just happened."
I look around, half expecting another charge, but the woods are silent. As I step closer to inspect the massive carcass, the beast's body begins to break down. The flesh and stone armor dissolve into swirling particles of pale light, floating up into the night sky. In seconds, the entire truck-sized monster is gone.
All that remains in the dirt is a single crystal pulsing with a muddy, chaotic brown light.
With a soft chime, my system screen updates.
[Target Defeated: Crag-Boar (Level 3)]
[Experience Gained: +100]
I stare down at the jagged, pulsing rock. My mana is refilling, my headache is gone, and next I need to test my Animus Resonance and Golemancy.