Chapter 4 (Timing)

  Minutes later, I arrived at the grounds where the school had set up to conduct entrance exams and the various exhibitions, and entered the absurdly long line for the exams, and got ready to wait.

  I spent the intervening time looking around at the prospective students, all of them so very young.. Well, most of them, anyway. There were some older individuals, of course. Those who were after higher education, seeking ways to improve their class options and quality.

  There were, of course, many such schools all across the various nations of the southern continent, but none could boast about their results more than the School of Spellcraft and Sorcery. Part of that was the continued legacy of the board of directors, but quite a bit of it was the Oddity the school was built upon, not to mention the faculty hired to teach there.

  My intention was to get hired on as one of those faculty members, but I also wanted to have some fun. I haven’t been able to show off to any mortals in a long time, and honestly, I was enjoying having people around to talk to. Some of those people would likely even consider themselves my peers. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell anyone how very wrong that was.

  “Next!” A voice called out from one of the 8 tables, and I realized I had reached the front of the line.

  Show time.

  “Name, age, classes, levels, stats, and what are you applying to the School for?”

  “Ada, Queen of the Desolation, I honestly don’t know, spellspear, mage, artisan, 4095, 4095 and 4095, 25,164,416 strength, 25,279,163 dexterity, 31,243,862 vitality, 39,555,229 speed, 98,758,015 mana, 99,193,588 mana regen, 116,596,084 magic power, 117,855,745 magic control, and I’m here for spatial magic.”

  I wrote up a quick subroutine for [Debug: Spoof Level] that excluded the scribe from its effects for just a few seconds, and watched with glee as the scribe’s eyes went wide with shock.

  “Or I could be lying about all that, who’s to know?” I winked.

  “Fine, I’m not paid enough to care about what white robes do with their time.”

  I watched as the scribe wrote down “Ada” in the field for recording my name, and nothing else.

  “Place of birth, backing, fealty?”

  I waggled my eyebrows. “Sorry, can’t say, no one, and myself.”

  “Right. I’m just going to leave the rest of this blank, and you can take it up with the administration later. Spatial exams are through the door there, go to the end of the hall, turn left, then turn right and it’s the third door on the right. Now please go away.”

  I replied, “It’s fine, I remember where to go,” and then proceeded down the hall as directed.

  Thankfully, there wasn’t another line waiting for me here. I knocked, and went in when a voice called out for me to enter.

  Five figures sat around a table arranged in a semicircle with an open center where there was a slightly raised area covered in a primitive rune circle. Looking more closely, I could see they were four stodgy looking men and one seemingly bemused woman, wearing robes in black, black, purple, blue, green, respectively.

  I quickly ran a [Data Dump] on the Pentorum, pulling out the relevant information.

  

  [Human Mage: Spatial - 256]

  [Human Mage: Spatial - 256]

  [Dwarf Laborer: Spatial - 577]

  [Elf Mage: Spatial - 1244]

  [Faun Artisan: Spatial - 2112]

  Bingo, I knew who I actually wanted to impress. I walked over to the woman and handed over the sheet from the scribe.

  “This sheet just says ‘Ada’ on it,” the dazzlingly attractive faun replied.

  “Yeah, that’s all the scribe wanted to write down. I did provide answers to all the questions he asked, however.”

  “Fine, fine, just go and stand in the circle there,” she said as she passed my information sheet down the line of interviewers.

  I moved to the center of the raised platform, directly inside the spell circle. I recognized it as a simple deception detection spell. I could, of course, disable it easily or cast a spell of my own that would prevent it from reading me, but I didn’t need to lie today. Probably.

  “Alright, Ada, first question: what is the base mana cost to teleport one kilogram of matter?”

  “Assuming no other skills improving efficiency, between two and four thousand, depending on the actual skill being used, skill level, and the user’s magic control stat. Wizardry, of course, typically costs around twice that due to the inefficiencies introduced by the language being used.”

  The questioning continued much the same. Towards the end, they tried to stump me with questions that current knowledge of how spatial magic interacted with the fabric of reality hadn’t yet uncovered, and I answered each of these simply with an, “I can’t say”.

  Once each of the men had all exhausted their questions, the lady Faun [Artisan] asked me, “How would you construct a bag of holding?”

  I smirked. “Do you have a bag I can use to demonstrate? Wait, nevermind, I’ll get my own.”

  I formed a disc of steel and etched the code for an interdimensional portal, opening it into the storage warehouse near where I remembered stashing a pile of small belt pouches. After dumping the required amount of mana into the etchings, I reached in and retrieved a supple red leather pouch. That task completed, I sealed the portal back up and reabsorbed the disc.

  The faun smiled at me, seeming to have correctly grasped what I had just done. Three of the other four were staring with eyes bugging out of their skulls. The elf simply scowled.

  I smiled back, then reversed the pouch, showing that there were not yet any enchantments on it.

  I opened the pouch at my own belt and withdrew a lump of purified silver. Using [Reflow], I drew out a fine wire and willed it to weave itself into the bag, near microscopic stitching creating the spells for both expanding the space inside and compressing objects placed within. This took a few seconds. I then poured the necessary 13 million mana into the structure to activate the spellcraft.

  I then tossed the bag over to my fellow artisan.

  “Oh! Oh. Oh, my. This is magnificent,” she said, turning the bag around to inspect the stichwork. She then opened it and reached inside. “Oh, wow. The two effects active simultaneously without interfering. Is this your own design?”

  “It is, yes.”

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  “Well, I think that answers everything. We can’t accept you as a student here. I’m afraid there’s just nothing we’d be able to teach you about spatial magic.”

  “Oh, I apologize for the misunderstanding. I’m not here to be a student. I’m here to join the spatial magic faculty.”

  At this, I dropped my [Debug: Spoof Level], then removed the robe and hat I had stored in my belt pouch, and slipped into the outfit, which changed itself to white once my displayed level returned to match my actual level. I then pinned my onyx spatial alumni badge at my breast.

  “Sorry about the deception, but I had more fun this way. And honestly, at my age, these sorts of opportunities don’t come around often.”

  “Oh, well in that case, we do have one opening in the department, but it is for teaching the introductory course. If that’s acceptable, I can have the necessary paperwork drawn up.”

  “That will be fine. You can keep the bag, if you like. I can tell you want to figure out how it works. Anyway, I have a few errands to run, and then I’ll head on up to the Island. I can visit the administration office tomorrow. Just leave the paperwork under the name Ada.”

  I re-enabled [Debug: Spoof Level] setting my displayed level back to 127, and the color of my robes returned to black as was appropriate. The enchantment handling the color alteration was another of my designs, requiring one subroutine that checked the wearer’s publicly displayed level, and a second that read that information and changed the garment’s coloration to match. A bit of arcanite threading kept the effect operating indefinitely. I also returned my pin to the belt pouch.

  Without waiting for a response, I [Displaced] myself directly outside and headed for the combat area.

  There wasn’t much of a line at the combat signups, and I approached a dullahan receptionist with purple paint on her armor taking sign ups for the various combat events.

  “Hello, I’d like to fight in one of the events.”

  “Age?” She asked me, curtly. She had a vibrant purple paint on her armor which I thought complimented her eyes nicely.

  “Ah, well, about that,” I replied. “The system just shows an error, and to be perfectly honest, I haven’t really been keeping track.”

  The Dullahan looked at me with a very blank face and said, “Uh huh, very funny. Now what’s your actual age.”

  “How old do I look?”

  “You’re a Human, yes? You look human, anyway.”

  “Close enough.”

  “And level 127, so that makes you, what, 11? 12? That puts you in the ‘Under 30’ bracket. What event? Singles, duos, team, or free-for-all?”

  I tapped my chin, feigning that I was thinking about this very carefully. “Put me down for the free-for-all under the unlimited bracket, please.”

  “Black robe human artisan has a death wish. Fine. You know they don’t get shields for that event, right?”

  “I’m aware,” I confirmed.

  “Fine, that’s the last event, so make sure you show up, even if all you do is tell us you changed your mind.”

  “Can do. I’m going to go check out the duels, then. Thanks for the help.” I waved, and left, heading for the dueling arena, where I was reasonably confident the Black Rose would be set up.

  At the dueling grounds, I approached the armory where the old elf would be set up to oversee the fights, and groaned as I watched a short brunette in a purple robe leaving the area alongside a familiar blond amazonian woman and a tiny, fiery hummingbird.

  I’d missed my timing again, and I knew there would be a huge mess waiting for me inside.

  Blood splattered three walls, in one corner was a severed arm laying in a small pool of congealing red liquid, and another corner held a young dragonling in black robes, presumably a healer, which a quick [Data Dump] confirmed.

  "I am Mormerilhawn, the Black Rose. You wish to compete for fame and glory in my grounds. Very well. I will ensure that minimal harm comes to you. Here are the rules. Every person I permit to participate is shielded by one of my skills. I tailor the skill to what would be a powerful blow against you. When the skill activates, it will do so with blinding light. That is the signal to stop. If you persist in fighting after the signal, you will be evicted. If I am feeling generous, you will still have all your limbs. Please keep in mind that my defenses will not work against suffocating attacks. If you use one, you will be evicted. If I am feeling generous, you will still have all your limbs. If you somehow cause grievous harm to another duelist, you will be evicted. You will not have all your limbs.” He gestured at the severed arm, then continued, “Am I clear?"

  “Crystal, what do you want me to do?” I asked.

  He looked me over, then replied, “A black robed artisan? A true day for firsts. Tell me, how do you fight?”

  “Metal shaping, mostly swords and other bladed weapons, also sand based sorcery and some amount of wizardry.”

  “No focus, eh? Shameful. Oh well, can’t be helped, I suppose. Very well, how durable do you consider yourself?”

  “I’m not dead yet, so reasonably. Feel free to stab, slash, or pierce wherever you like,” I grinned.

  “I believe I will take you up on that. Ixcoh, make yourself ready.”

  I assumed he meant the dragonling standing in the corner who appeared a bit shell shocked and had been coated in a spray of blood. He blinked a couple times, then looked over at Mormerilhawn and nodded.

  “Remove any clothing you’d like to keep intact, spread your arms, activate your defensive skills. We’ll begin once you are ready.”

  I removed my robe and hat, stuffing them back into my storage pouch, then stuffed my shirt, shoes, and pants in behind them. Placing the bag onto the floor in a spot that was conveniently not covered in blood, I moved back, and assumed a position, T-posing for the elf. Nodding at him, I began to hum a tune, activating [Bladesong], adding an absurd bonus on top of my already ridiculous vitality score.

  “Go for it,” I said, continuing to hum. He didn’t seem concerned about how I was able to do both at the same time.

  Mormerilhawn picked up a knife and held it to my outstretched arm, and said, "I unfortunately require you to assent to being assaulted by me to properly test the limits of your durability."

  “Assault away. I consent to any damage you may cause me, up to and including my own death, should you manage it.”

  He grinned, and started to tap at my arm, starting lightly at first, and then harder, and harder. I could tell he had started to really put effort into the strikes, but I still barely felt anything. A few seconds later, the knife blade snapped off at the hilt.

  I poured some mana into [Warptime], reached up, grabbed the blade as it started to spin and fly away, then placed it back onto its handle, and fused the two pieces back together. I even sharpened the edge where it had dulled from my arm.

  Mormerilhawn looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Spatial artisan, huh? You know, I once knew a combat mage who claimed her third class had been a spatial artisan. She had been an elf, however.”

  “Fascinating. You say she had been an elf? What happened to her?”

  “She had been hunting a void mage, who proceeded to blow himself up once she caught up to him. She was no more than 6 feet away.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. She was destroyed in the blast, then?”

  “No. As a matter of fact, she showed up at my office two days later, three inches shorter than she had been before.”

  “That’s unbelievable. Did you find out how she survived the mage detonating?”

  “Sadly, I did not. She left the next day, and reportedly disappeared through a spatial rift. A rift that perfectly sealed itself mere moments after she traversed it.”

  “Ah, oh well. Why don’t you grab a larger weapon, maybe that nodachi over there.” I pointed at a large, black sword which was glowing from an internal source of heat and hanging from a bracket that held it out away from the wall by several inches.

  “The obsidanite odachi?”

  “Yeah, that's the one. I bet you could take my head off with that one.”

  The Black Rose nodded at me, then retrieved the glowing blade.

  I took a bracing stance, and stopped humming, allowing [Bladesong] to fade.

  “Very well. I shall not hold back.”

  He swung the sword, and I felt it bite into my neck.

  My head fell to the floor.

  “Well, then. That’s over and done with." The elf frowned, then looked over at the dragonling and said, "Ixcoh, why have you not restored her body yet?”

  “Black Rose, sir, I am trying, but there is nothing for my regenerative magic to connect. I am feeling my skills slide right off of her as if she was simply inert earth,” said the dragonling.

  “See, buddy, I knew you had it in you,” I said, as I reached out with my magic and [Shattered] the remains of my head as it lay on the ground. I then called the swarm of steel grains to my outstretched hand, reabsorbed the material, and finally restored my head, with a pixie cut and a set of gazelle antlers, the same that I had worn when I had been posing as an elf, around 1200 years previous to the current date.

  “Ada. Why are you here? Why are you even shorter now? Also, why did you hide your horns before?"

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  Based on the world from the original work by Selkie Myth

  On Royal Road:

  

  You can also find all of the Beneath the Dragoneye Moons volumes on Kindle Unlimited and Audible:

  

  1 - Oathbound Healer -

  2 - Adventures in the Argo -

  3 - Ranger's Dawn -

  4 - Beyond the Wall -

  5 - Moonveiled Journeys -

  6 - Immortal Moments -

  7 - Return to Remus -

  8 - New Horizons -

  9 - Gladiator Gauntlet -

  10 - Under Ashen Skies -

  11 - Mandate of Heaven -

  12 - The Phoenix Peaks -

  13 - Moonfall -