The Third Step: Chapter Sixty-Five

If I failed now, it might be fine. But it being fine was predicated on the idea that I would easily win future events, which there was no guarantee of. Worse, what if I was in another situation like this, arguing if I needed to strain myself? Better to push myself early in the tournament, in a situation where I’d be working with a team, than in a one-on-one duel. 

I conjured my Runelight Lens into one hand, and a handful of materials into the other. A calcified eye, mana sources, the researcher’s ghostgift, and other, stranger materials. I pressed them together, and felt as power rushed through the lens. My senses expanded and grew sharper, and I watched as new purple runes etched themselves across the surface of the growth item to add a new spell function. 

That was when I felt it. My entire body shuddered, I felt as if my spirit began to creak, and my heart began to ache. No, not my heart – my mana channels, where I’d fused them into my body around my heart. They were straining and aching under the pressure. I gritted my teeth and shoved the pain aside, putting it in the back of my mind. I was used to fighting through spiritual pain at this point. That probably said some things about me that I wouldn’t like, but this wasn’t the time for self reflection. I teleported the potion into my mouth and swallowed, letting the power rush through my body. Already strained from the pressure of the Runelight Lens, I began to feel sharp pains at random points across my body, thousands of tiny spots all at once. I ground my teeth together and teleported down to stand across from the person with the strange, tower-like mana-garden. 

It felt like the referee was moving in slow motion as she went to place the metallic orb between us, and my opponent examined me, tilting their head one way and another. 

“You’ve done something strange to your spirit,” they said, their voice light and melodious. “But it seems like whatever you just did, you pushed yourself over the edge. You broke yourself to harness power you can’t handle to win.” 

“I… could say the same… about your… tower…” 

“The Babbling Tower ritual array used in the construction of the monolinguistic spell has a long and fascinating history,” they responded. “My legacy merely makes my soul imitate some of that power. I cou–” 

“Begin!” the referee shouted, and they flared their mana senses. As they did, several of the words flowing around their tower blazed to life: Senses, Potency, Mage, and others that I couldn’t make out over the screaming in my spirit as I lit up my own spells. My power crashed into theirs, and they made a sharp gesture with one hand. All of the sudden, their senses were wrapping around mine and tearing into my body. It didn’t cause any physical pain, but it was very distracting, reminiscent of when Orykson had done something similar. An echoing chant began to resound in my head as I reached out and pushed back, drawing

Juggling the growing pain in my spirit, the complex mana manipulation, the thin threads of soul mana, and a resonance technique all at once was rough, and my vision began to swim before me. I went cross-eyed in an attempt to focus all of the power, as well as the energy rushing through me from the potion, but it was difficult. The pain was getting worse with every passing moment, and leaning on raw strength of will to ignore it was only working so well.

Impound.

Dawn’s word resonated in my mind, golden power cascaded through my veins, and I felt my focus sharpen. I wasn’t healed, but the sensation of my spirit and body tearing itself apart slowed as the power that usually refined the power of my body and spells instead turned to holding me together. 

Was this in the rules? Familiars weren’t allowed to use their senses to assist, nor could they actively assist, but the effects of spellbonds were allowed. Dawn’s dominion flowing through me was an effect of my spellbound, so I didn’t think it was technically in violation, no more than it would be if someone bound a ghost with a Dominion that passively infused their spells. The judge wasn’t saying anything, so I didn’t either.

I mentally reached out to see how long this shift could last, and Dawn immediately responded with a complex mathematical sequence, and I began to bleed from my eyes. This time, I wasn’t sure it was even that the math was so incomprehensible – my body was just bearing the brunt of over-saturating my spirit. 

“Tell me,” Hannah said in my mind urgently. “Without the Ghostmind spell, I can’t get it directly, but if you tell me.” 

I began muttering the math under my breath, and Hannah began working on calculating time. 

“The math isn’t bad, it’s just that Dawn’s units of measure are nonsense. I’m going to treat a ‘sun’s movement’ as thirteen hours, considering the time of year, and a ‘Ddear-Glaniwyd revolution temporal difference’ How long is a day on Glaniwyd?” 

I couldn’t even really focus on that. I vaguely knew that Glaniwyd was another planet in the solar system, like the gas giant Kyrbyr, but I had no idea how fast it rotated. Why would I? Hannah slipped from my body and began to walk away, and across from me, my competition raised their eyebrow. 

“Are you trying to distract me with a ghost? I suppose it kind of worked. Actually, kind of clever.”

With Hannah no longer muttering in my ear, my opponent distracted, and the spiritual pain somewhat muted, I thrust my hand forward and concentrated my senses into a spike. The sphere hanging in the air between us shot forward, and I scored a single point. Across from me, the tower-mage’s eyebrows shot up and they nodded appreciatively. 

“Even if you basically destroyed yourself to manage it, I appreciate that I’m not going to just sweep the competition like I did the last two tournaments.” 

“Shut up,” I mumbled under my breath, spiking the ball forward with more soul mana empowered spellcraft. It was easier to juggle all of the factors now, and though it was slower, I was able to slowly overpower the strange mage, and score the three points needed to win. They tried to walk over to me and say something, but I teleported back to the stands, stumbling before practically falling into my seat. That got a few concerned looks from people around me, but blood was beginning to blot out my vision, and almost my entire mana regeneration was venting into the air. 

“You have twelve minutes left before Dawn can’t hold it back anymore,” Hannah said, and I gave her a thumbs up. At least, I tried to, but it was really hard to, and I wasn’t sure I managed it. 

I took a deep breath and pushed myself up to a sitting position. When had I fallen on the floor? Dusk whistled and slapped me, demanding that I swallow. I blinked. When had she gotten here? Dusk roared like a bear, again demanding that I swallow. I did, and felt a rush of magic flowing into me. Under Dusk’s instruction, I guided the magic through my death mana, until I could see the gates for fourth gate. I pressed the power into it, but I didn’t understand what was happening. This wasn’t death mana, and I wasn’t sure I had the willpower to break through anyways. 

Like a key sliding into a lock, the power clicked into the gate, and it swung open. Power flowed out, helping bring some stability to my soul as Beast Mage’s Soul advanced to fourth gate. I hadn’t reached its maximum potential yet, but in this instant, I couldn’t bring myself to care. The pain was still there, but after the miraculous breakthrough, it was diminished. I only needed to open one more gate to reach fourth gate for real. 

With the new clarity, I realized that the breakthrough hadn’t been a miracle. It had been the bronzepick pill. I’d used them before to dig steps, but they could also be used to break through to fourth gate with no consequences. There was a reason they were put on the same level as golden soul potions and their ilk. 

“And you would be fighting Malachi, but given that he’s–”

I grunted and wiped the blood from my eyes, teleporting down to the pitch. 

“I’m fine. Let’s do this.” 

“Mister Malachi, I under–” 

“I’m fine,” I said, stepping forward and flaring my mana senses out around me. “I overclocked, but I advanced, it’s fine.” 

It was partially a bluff. I felt better, and with Dawn helping hold back the rest, I could finish this, but I didn’t know how much longer. But I didn’t need to get much further. This was a fight for top four, after all. My opponent, an absurdly tall and musclebound man, stepped onto the field. He had to be seven feet tall, and he looked like he’d be more at home in a weightlifting competition than a sensory one. He said something, but I ignored him. As soon as the referee called the start, I drew out a large chunk of my soul mana and slammed it into my spells. The ball exploded across the distance and scored me a point. 

As it was reset, I tried to do the same, but the tall man knocked my ball slightly left, causing it to fly out of bounds and get reset. This time, I fed a smaller trickle and began pushing the ball forward again, only for the man to grunt and open something in his spirit. It almost felt like a Temporal Basin, but instead of granting huge quantities of mana, it gave him a massive increase in his mana senses. The ball came to a stop, thehn started floating slightly toward me. I gritted my teeth and teleported another potion into my mouth, swallowing it and feeling as my senses expanded again. The ball came to a stop again, then began pushing forward, until I scored my second point. 

In the third round, I simply pushed it forward, the pain flaring up in my spirit again as I did, forcing me to fight through it. Without his strange technique, he wasn’t able to match me, and I won, teleporting back to Dusk, who handed me a vial filled with leaves and mana water that had been mashed into a loose, chunky potion. I downed it, gagging, but felt some relief as the healer’s heart and spiritbalm mingled into me. It was really doing nothing but that was fine, and within the rules. I debated trying to break through with my life mana again, but before I could, my name was called again. Time was getting shorter between rounds, with so few left.

I teleported forward and overshot, landing an inch from the referee, then stumbling back. When was the last time that I’d failed to teleport where I’d intended to? Had it ever happened? It relied on my spatial sense, so it usually was fine. My senses were swelling and flexing, and I felt like they were even more powerful than usual, if horrifically unstable. My opponent, a woman who looked weirdly similar to pictures that I’d seen of my grandmother when she was in her thirties, raised an eyebrow as she saw me stumbling. 

“His spirit doesn’t look good…” 

“I’m fine,” I said, and the words came out more like a growl. 

“Until he collapses, consents to step down, or withdraws, we can’t stop him,” the referee said. “That said, I highly advise you to seek out a spirit healer, Malachi.” 

“No. I want to fight.” 

The referee placed the orb down, and the battle began.