“This feels so strange.”

As soon as the illusion shattered, Lukas found himself back in the anomaly. The dead khorkhoi lay in front of him on the floor, its body torn open with dead slime and purplish body fluids splattered all over. But more importantly, the screen had some sort of message waiting for him.

 

Assimilate? Recalibrate? This had never happened before. Briefly, he recalled the incredible power he felt when the goddess had possessed his body and used it like a puppet. He remembered experiencing power— true power —course through his body, like the torrent of a mountain stream rushing downwards. 

Now?

Now he felt nothing.

Literally nothing.

Not the sheer invincibility he had experienced during the possession, nor the steady confidence every time he used lifeforce. Simply nothing.

He tried pushing some lifeforce into his palm, readying a minor Burst attack. But nothing happened. Instead, the screen flashed, only this time it was an angry red.

 

This does seem problematic.

“Can you…” He hesitated for a moment. While the goddess had ended their impromptu conversation on a non-hostile, and, dare he say it, cooperative note, he couldn’t be truly sure of her motivations. Not to mention, her possessing his form was the source of his current predicament, if the issues with ‘mana forge’ and ‘mana manipulation’ were any indication.

But surely she would help him, since they struck a bargain?

Mustering up his courage, Lukas mentally reached out to Inanna. “Can you tell me what’s happening?”

A sliver of foreign amusement ran down his spine. He tried very hard not to dwell on it.

“You find yourself at a crossroads, mortal. Either assimilate the residual power brought forth from my presence, or reduce yourself to your usual capacity.”

A choice between more power and less? It wasn’t exactly rocket science. Still…

“What’s the catch?”

Somewhere in the infinite darkness, he could feel Inanna’s smirk.

“Using powers beyond your abilities can destroy you.”

Beyond my abilities?

He remembered how incredible Inanna’s mana felt after being possessed. Sure, he hadn’t the slightest clue how to go about using it, but he couldn’t get his mind off the image of bluish flames crackling like lightning, holding the monster down, making it scream in agony. The power, the control, the feeling of being able to twist and turn Nature itself with a wave of his hands…

In light of his own measly abilities, it was hard to let go.

It was the difference between a tiny ant and a mighty lion.

Or a human and a God.

Lukas felt another flicker of amusement at the figure of speech.

Recalibrating his stats would bring them down to the levels recommended by the screen. But if that were the case, why do that in the first place instead of accepting the greater power?

Inanna said it could destroy him, but how probable was that outcome?

It just… it felt so good.

Lukas shuddered. It was wrong, but it was just so right. Something inside him yearned for that feeling once more, that exhilarating rush of power through his veins.

His fingers twitched.

Assimilation was a risk, sure, but the rewards would certainly be worth it. Right? If he took the safe path, he’d return to being the useless thing he’d been in front of the giant khorkhoi, but if he took the risk, if he was able to stand his ground and deal with it, he could just—

“Wait, wait, wait—” Lukas shook his head.

What was he thinking? Strength would help him stay alive, but all the strength in the world would be useless if he ended up dead.

An image of himself— floating in the sky, raining down fires of bluish lightning —flashed in his mind’s eye.

“No!” Lukas gripped the sides of his head. It was almost painful trying to ignore the sensation, to overlook his own desire when it lay right in front of him. To have that much power in his hands, and then have to simply give it up? 

A familiar saying rose to the forefront of his mind, unbidden.

Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.

The dichotomy between his heart wanting the newfound power and his mind warning him of the risks grew stronger and stronger.

His hands started to tremble.

Was this how drug addicts felt before they relapsed?

“Inanna. Will this… will this feeling grow stronger the more I use lifeforce or mana?”

He had to know. He had to know before it was too late.

“Lifeforce augments you in ways your mortal shell cannot. Mana, by its very nature, allows one to twist and turn the laws of reality as one deems fit. It is only fitting that this addiction is the price you pay for its miracles.”

“So they’re both dangerous.”

“Power when honed is dangerous to others. When not, then dangerous to oneself.”

The words rang clear.

There was no free lunch.

He could attain power and use it, but it came with a price. Inanna had described her spell as the weakest she could conjure without destroying his body. Already, he was salivating at the thought of being able to do something like that. What would happen when even greater power caught his eye?

Just how much was he willing to bargain, and for how long?

Lukas cursed. He didn’t want to succumb to temptation and make another stupid mistake. And yet, at the same time, the thought of losing all that mana and recalibrating everything to normalcy made his gut churn uncomfortably.

Unclenching his fists, Lukas slowly exhaled as he came to a decision.

“Recalibrate it.”

Instantly the screen responded with an acknowledgement, as new windows began to appear.

 

 

Lukas stared at the screen glumly.

He was already missing the sense of power he felt when mana flowed through him. It was gone. Unlearned, as the screen so aptly put it.

Come to think of it, what were Skills anyway? He knew for a fact that using lifeforce had become terribly easy for him ever since he’d gained the Internal Lifeforce Manipulation Skill, like he had been gifted an instinctive understanding of how to perform it.

It was both terrifying and humbling how the system was tailor-made to not just acquire new skills, but also allow them to naturally push towards their superlative forms right from the start.

 

“Uhm… sure?”

 

 

 

The dam broke.

The raw power submerged his mind, flooding through his veins as energy far more than he was capable of controlling was suddenly let loose. He could feel it hum in his very blood, singing of strength and invincibility, and yet all he could do was gnash his teeth as a silent scream of agony stayed trapped in his throat.

Unsurprisingly, that was just the beginning.

More windows opened, flashing out new messages, something about— 

The thought was shredded to pieces midway as a new wave of pain flared up his spine. Lukas could literally feel his bones crack open and expand, feel the muscles inside him contract powerfully as his body began to morph. Losing all sense of coordination, he dropped down onto his knees as a wave of nausea hit him head on.

Another window opened.

 

“Ah,” Lukas muttered deliriously. “So that’s what’s happening.”

A final window opened.

 

Lukas let out a soul-wrenching scream.

---

Haviskali.

To its north was Namzuhuu, a desert spanning thousands of hectares with nothing but dry, desolate sands. Its southern border extended all the way to the Sea of Mone, bringing prosperity to its economy through sea-trade. The western stretch was occupied by a dwarven population, and the east was an open pathway to all the cities and towns that made up the rest of the Llaisy Kingdom.

Some called it a fringe town. But commercial district was a far more apt description.

For a population nearing a hundred and thirty thousand, Haviskali was fairly silent. Most of the town’s bustle centered around the Guild Hall, a majestic edifice where people of all backgrounds— traders, merchants, adventurers, nobles, and common folk —came together to conduct business.

To its left stood the great Naowa shrine, built by the current shogun, Naowa, to pay homage to the great goddess Okuninushi. The landmark also served as the official center of the town, something that the local inhabitants— or bremetans, as they called themselves —preferred, since it meant everyone could be close to their patron goddess.

In short, it was a perfectly stable little piece of real estate that Tatun Kinosu was fond of. And, as a conservative middle-aged man, he preferred to keep things as they were.

If only the current shogun, Naowa, would see it that way. 

The bell on his desk suddenly chimed.

“What is it?” Tatun irritatedly grunted, running his tanned fingers through his dirty brown hair.

“He’s here,” a feminine voice spoke out from the other side of the room. “The shogun has arrived.”

About time, Tatun mused. As he got up from his chair, the shogun strode into the room, his velvety robes sweeping over the floor as the man walked towards the largest chair in the office. Say what you would about him, but Shogun Naowa’s body language was regal and imposing. It was good, considering how mediocre the man’s other skills were compared to some of the previous shoguns Tatun had worked with.

“What brings you here today, sir?” Tatun asked, a practiced smile gracing his lips. Not too open, not too stony— just enough to hit the perfect sweet spot of politeness. “Your message to convene seemed rather urgent.”

The shogun had been somewhat shaken ever since the Llaisy Kingdom had started a cold war with its neighbor, the Eaborid Kingdom. With Haviskali being a trade-dependent town along the northern border, the non-fight had cut into the town’s coffers far more than what the shogun was comfortable with. Especially with a city like Cyffnar actively trying to sabotage trade between Haviskali and other regions.

But today, the man somehow seemed even more unsettled.

I wonder what’s on his mind now.

“We—” the shogun’s voice trembled. The sixty-something-year-old man once boasted a rich, baritone voice, but age had slurred his words and made him rush when he spoke. “Well, there is an issue, Tatun.”

Tatun sat back down behind his desk, clasping his arms in front of him. “How may I assist you, sir?”

“We are losing the deal with Karnegrug.”

Wha—

Tatun fought to keep his mouth from gaping in shock. The kingdom of Karnegrug was one of the chief importers of cold iron from Haviskali’s mines. Losing the trade deal with them would adversely affect the fringe town’s trade, thereby affecting the Llaisy Kingdom as a whole.

“They can’t possibly do that,” he refuted. “Without us, Karnegrug can’t get a hold of cold iron. Without it, they simply cannot—”

“Cyffnar has offered to supply them at a cheaper cost.”

Cyffnar. It was always Cyffnar.

It was a city belonging to the Eaborid Kingdom, located on the other side of the Namzuhuu desert. In many ways, Cyffnar was Haviskali’s mirror image. Unlike here, where the government preferred to have a privately-run adventurer’s guild, Cyffnar had an Iron Parliament— a city council that handled all such operations. Unlike Haviskali, which was open to all, Cyffnar was infamous for its bigotry towards hybrids and non-bremetans.

If the shogun’s words rang true, Cyffnar would be snatching away a high-profile trade client from right under Haviskali’s nose. And if that damned city was willing to export large quantities of cold iron—

…Wait.

Something didn’t add up.

“There’s still no reason to worry, sir,” Tatun spoke up. “Cyffnar has no metal deposits. No matter what trade deal they may have promised, they don’t have the means to carry it out.”

“Two hours ago, I thought the same.”

The shogun exhaled, slowly getting up from his easy chair. “Our scanners have found energy readings in the desert. Fifty miles south of the Cyffnar border. An anomaly, possibly Level-3, with a large amount of metal deposits.”

That shut him up.

The old shogun met his eyes. “Do you understand the problem now?”

He did. And problem was an understatement.

A Level-3 anomaly was a grand resource. Entire towns could flourish around a single one of them. Even Level-2 anomalies could be harvested for a plethora of minerals and organic ingredients, not to mention serve as a great training ground for adventurers to gain experience and level up. If Cyffnar obtained this anomaly for themselves, it could very well spell the end of their monopoly on the metal trade.

“Fifty miles off their border is still neutral territory, within the sands of Namzuhuu,” Naowa suggested. “My thoughts were to send search-parties to explore and excavate it as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, but to what end? Even if they gain partial control of that anomaly eventually, they will still be able to obtain cold iron and broker a deal with Kargengrug.”

“You do have a poi—”

“Plus, our adventurers would need to travel six hundred miles while Cyffnar is a mere fifty away. They would be able to mine it at a far lower expenditure.”

The shogun shot him an irritated glare.

“Fine. Call him.”

“...I beg your pardon?”

“Banksi,” the shogun grunted. “Bring him in here.”

“I can— I can deal with this,” Tatun offered, his mind furiously racing. “With your blessing, I will personally see to it—”

A knock interrupted him mid-sentence, as his assistant’s voice rang through the room. “Sir, Zuken Banksi has arrived.”

Fuck.

“As they say, speak of the man, and he shall appear. Allow him in,” the shogun swiftly commanded.

Fuck.

Tatun felt his fingers twitch. “Sir, I believe I can handle this issue perfectly well on my own—”

The shogun silenced his pleas with a single glance, and Tatun could do nothing but sigh.

Just then, the door swung open, and Tatun scowled as he entered.

A brown-haired man waltzed in, draped in robes of prussian blue and wearing armbands decorated in concentric circles of brown— displaying his status as an earth-type spiritist. A casual half-smirk adorned his face as the man glanced at him, walking forward and sitting in the chair opposite the shogun’s table.

Zuken Banksi. One of the thirteen heirs to the famous Banksi clan, a well-established entrepreneur that enjoyed the ear of the shogun, and— in Tatun’s not-so-humble opinion —a complete ass.

Said ass paused his motions, briefly nodding at Shogun Naowa. “I see the village idiot is here as well.”

Tatun bristled, his carefully crafted composure cracking. “I heard that.”

“You were meant to.”

“Why, you—”

“Enough with the banter, Tatun,” the shogun sighed. “This is a serious matter, and I need both of you to handle this issue. The king himself is breathing down my neck about this.”

“Is there really anything serious about this?” Zuken asked, looking bored as he twiddled his thumbs. “All we need to do is be three steps ahead of Cyffnar since they always try to be two steps ahead of us.”

“We aren’t in open conflict with Cyffnar, Zuken,” Naowa clarified.

“Then perhaps we should be.”

“Without permission from the king, that’s not possible. We need a diplomatic solution—” Tatun chimed in, forcefully suppressing his twitching fingers at the Banksi’s unilateral line of thought.

Zuken sarcastically gasped, mouthing the words ‘the king’.

The twitching started all over again.

“—and that’s why I’m here,” Tatun finished.

“To be mocked?”

“To make things clearer for those of us incapable of listening,” he spoke in a saccharine voice, ignoring the Banksi’s interruptions. “The anomaly is in a no-man’s land, ergo both kingdoms have a right to it. We should arrange a meeting with the Iron Parliament and establish a mutual agreement, one where we are given custody of the anomaly.”

“Is that all? Might as well ask for their city while you’re at it.”

“The shogun did not bring you here to mock us,” Tatun couldn’t help but snark.

“No,” the Banksi smirked. “Just you.”

Tatun’s nostrils flared.

“Gentlemen!” the shogun interrupted.

Tatun’s face blanked, before his lips morphed back into a polite smile as he regained his composure. His gaze left the Banksi as he turned to face the shogun. “Sir?”

“We cannot afford to let Cyffnar gain control over this anomaly, but neither are we in open conflict with them. If either one of you has something useful to contribute, do so now. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to forward the matter to the High Council.”

“Sir,” Tatun began, “considering the anomaly is in neutral territory, I cannot see how we can stop Cyffnar from getting half of the deposits, You won’t get any support from the Empire over this.”

“And if we refuse to comply?” the Banksi asked.

“War,” Tatun spoke for the shogun, who nodded his affirmation.

Zuken sighed. “I don’t respond to confrontation all that well. If Cyffnar is willing to point a sword at our throat to acquire half of the anomaly, then I say we disarm them.”

“How?”

The man held up three fingers.

“First, we can pretend that everything is peachy between us and Cyffnar, and send our adventurers to explore the anomaly, as we always do. It could be a fine journey, tales worth telling over hearty mugs of ale. Too bad it won’t, because our adventurers would come back in pieces, butchered by Cyffnar’s border patrol.”

The shogun looked completely unfazed.

Tatun merely sneered.

“Don’t make faces,” the Banksi had the gall to admonish. “The second option is that we send our own army and strongarm the border patrol. While our army stands guard in that accursed desert, the adventurers clean up shop and harvest the anomaly. At least until Cyffnar’s own army comes rushing in.”

“War is not on the table,” the shogun reiterated. “What about the third option?”

The Banksi casually leaned back, his long, brown hair casting a shadow, one that covered the gleam of something terrible in his eyes.

And then he dropped the bomb.

“We blow up the anomaly.”

“Wha— are you mad?!” Tatun exploded. “Destroying an anomaly? It could provide us with resources with decades, if not centuries! What could possibly make you think that that’s a good idea?”

The Banksi condescendingly rolled his eyes, something that made Tatun seethe internally. “Really, what do they teach in school these days?” He then shifted his gaze towards the shogun, who seemed to be taking the ludicrous proposal seriously. “We get the Guild to hire a bunch of our best and brightest, and send them off to the anomaly. Offer a double bonus for all I care. Harvest whatever we can with a single exploration mission, then blow it all up on the way out.”

He crossed his arms across his chest. “Imagine this. Cyffnar loses a Level-3 anomaly under its nose. How well do you think the rest of Eaborid will take that?”

“Not very,” Tatun pondered aloud.

“I’d give you points if I were a teacher. Pity you’re not in school. It seems you can teach an old dog new tricks.”

Tatun growled.

“And with the anomaly lost, Cyffnar’s proposed deal with Karnegrug will come to a halt.”

“Only temporarily,” Tatun corrected. “They were pushing for an exchange well before the anomaly was detected. I’m sure it was made with an alternative source in mind.”

“Impressions matter, Secretary Tatun,” Zuken shook his head. “While you’re busy caught up in the minutia, I’m looking at the bigger picture. Once rumors spread, Karnegrug will back out of the deal. They won’t trust a city incompetent enough to let a Class-3 at their doorstop go up in flames.”

“And Karnegrug will have to stay on with our deal.”

Banksi shrugged carelessly. “The envoys from Karnegrug are coming this month, right? Put them in a room with me. I’ll have them sign the deal at a premium, for backing out of our earlier agreement.”

“With all due respect, Shogun Naowa,” Tatun interrupted again, “I believe I should be leading that meeting.”

“Bad idea.”

Tatun’s fingers twitched. “And why,” he asked, “would that be bad?”

“Because when you put two bullies in the same room, things tend to get messy,” the spiritist jabbed.

That little—

The shogun clapped his hands. “Not to worry. I’d prefer to have you both present at that meeting.”

“Of course, Shogun Naowa,” Zuken agreed. “All that’s left is the matter of my incentive.”

Tatun’s lips thinned. Trust a greedy bastard like Banksi to put his own interests above all else.

“And what would you ask of me?” the shogun asked.

“If I do this, I want a freeholding license as a Guild Master.”

Tatun scoffed, both shocked and amused at the noble’s arrogance. “You think you can set up your own private Guild?”

“You don’t? A pity, though as expect—”

“Granted,” the shogun immediately cut in.

Tatun immediately craned his neck towards the shogun. “With all due respect, sir, I can’t help but question this decision. Banksi is officially a bureaucrat, and yet I never see him in office. He waltzes in and out and whatever he does is without care for proper rules or conduct. I urge you to reconsider simply handing over such power to him.”

“You flatter me, Secretary Kinosu,” Zuken sardonically batted his lashes. “Why, one could easily mistake you for a fan.”

“In your dreams, Banksi.”

“My dreams consist of far more pleasant things. Brunette, soft, feminine… Anything that’s, well, not you.” Zuken ruffled his hair. “But moving back to the issue, I think we should focus on destroying the anomaly first.”

“Yes, and who’s going to volunteer for this ridiculous mission?” Tatun sneered. “Get real, Banksi. This is a Class-3 Anomaly we’re talking about. Class. Three. If word of this plan reaches the High Council, we’re all in hot water.”

For once, the Banksi had nothing to say in response.

Tatun smiled.

“Secretary Tatun raises a fair point,” the shogun agreed, glancing at Zuken. “This plan of yours, though sound in principle, is risky if we choose to go for it. If you want me to agree to your deal, I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” the conniving spiritist smiled.

“You take the job.”

The smile immediately vanished. “Excuse me?”

It was now the shogun’s turn to grin. “As they say, if you want something done right, do it yourself. Destroying an anomaly is an act that requires great discretion, so the best person to handle it is you. Sign up for the mission through the Guild and exterminate this problem for me.”

“Oh, come on! Anything but this. I haven’t been on a mission in ages.”

Naowa shrugged. “Then I suppose you’ll need to wait a bit longer for your license.”

Banksi growled. He glared at Tatun, who smiled sweetly in response, content with where this conversation was heading. “Fine, I’ll do it. May as well keep my skills from rusting.”

“A splendid idea, Shogun Naowa,” Tatun clapped. “But tell me, Banksi, can you even do it? You are intelligent, I’ll give you that. But not even you possess enough power to handle a Class-3 anomaly.”

The Banksi hummed, boring into Tatun’s gaze with dull eyes. Mere moments later, they brightened. “You’re absolutely right,” the man smiled. “I’ll just get someone who can.”