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🕑 Added 2024-06-28 17:15:20 +0000 UTC“Well...” Jack said, “I need an assistant,” he said finally.
Ethan blinked, surprised by the sudden request. “Oh.”
“Yes. It will be better if I have an assistant. Quicker. I could’ve created a cure for the blight sooner if I had someone competent. Sir Miller is good, he really is. However, he is not suited for this kind of work. He is strange, really. Regardless, he is not suited for this kind of work. I need a professional, if possible.”
“Sure. Tell me the specifics and I will arrange for someone,” Ethan offered easily.
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Is that it?” Ethan confirmed.
“Yes, that would be all,” he said, his eyes flickering away from Ethan’s gaze.
“Then, I want you to start working on the issue at hand, immediately,” Ethan said, his voice firm. The day’s events had left him drained, and he wanted not only some solitude to process everything, but also to do some work. Work helped him relax. Keep focused. Distracted.
Work was procrastination from problems. For Ethan, at least.
With a curt nod, Jack shuffled out of the room, leaving Ethan alone with his thoughts. Hmm, what is Jack so desperate to hide from Sir Thomas and Roland? And what [Oath] had he sworn? More importantly, with or to whom?
Ethan pushed those questions aside for now. There was more pressing business at hand. He settled back into his chair. Closing his eyes, he activated his [Meditation] skill, focusing on his breath as the familiar warmth of mana coursed through him.
Despite his best efforts, his mind kept wandering. The image of the runaway Necromancer flickered in his thoughts, along with the upcoming arrival of Baron Montague. He still hadn’t procured the mana crystal Jack needed, and the thought gnawed at him more than it should.
Jack was under him now, technically—and Ethan didn’t want to mistreat his employees.
With a sigh, Ethan released the meditation technique. Frustration practically bubbled within him. He still hadn’t managed to level up his [Meditation] skill. Was his eagerness for progress actually hindering him?
Deciding to focus on something else, Ethan used [Basic Rune Creation] and started creating rune motes. The process flowed smoothly now. Far smoother than it had once been. Within moments, a few faint rune mote glowed on the table, pulsing with a gentle hum.
A small victory, at least. Everything else seems to just knock me down.
He’d created soap which now lay practically useless. Well, it works against the Blight, so that’s something.
The day passed and then the night as well, Ethan continued creating rune motes
It was calming.
Whenever he would grow tired or feel the headache coming—headache that came whenever he used all of his mana, or at least used mana to a critical level—he’d use [Meditation], and that’d not only help calm his mind and headache, but also refill his mana pool.
Man, I want a sparring partner.
The thought reminded him of confronting the rogue [Necromancer]. Now that sent a jolt of excitement through him—he was nervous, yes, but he was excited, too. Thus, as he finished for the night, he pulled up his status screen.
Theodore Lockheart
[Race: Human]
⨽[Rank: G]
⨽[Level: 3]
[Class: Mage]
⨽[Rank: Initiate]
⨽[Level: 3]
[Skills]: Basic Magic Script (Lvl. 2), Elemental Spells (Lvl. 10), Myriad Tongue (Lvl. 1), Basic Rune Creation (Lvl. 8), Meditation (Lvl. 4), Swordsmanship (Novice) (Lvl. 3), Arcane Awareness (Lvl 0), True Perception (Lvl. 0), Psionic Resistance (Lvl. 0)
[Innate Abilities]: Sever
[Familiar]: Opie (Viper)— Lvl 1
[Titles: The Unveiled, Aether Forged]
Although he hadn’t been in this world for a big amount of time, Ethan still felt as though he hadn’t progressed as much as he should have. Granted, he wasn’t getting any time for [Arcane Awareness], [True Perception], and [Psionic Resistance], but he felt as though he could do better if he only tried.
Though, I wonder what’s the difference in [Arcane Awareness] and [True Perception]. I suppose [Arcane Awareness] is strictly for mana and everything-magic, but what is [True Perception]? The descriptions have been nothing but vague, too.
Arcane Awareness — Level 0
Type: Passive
Effect: A nascent awareness to unseen magical forces.
True Perception — Level 0
Type: Passive
Effect: The faintest glimpse beyond surface appearances.
Psionic Resistance — Level 0
Type: Passive
Effect: A flicker of mental fortitude against psychic influences.
Looking at the descriptions gave him a headache, and the thought of trying to figure out [Arcane Awareness] and [True Perception] was enough for him to ignore them. He’d already had enough on his plate, and he was satisfied with what he had—the only thing he wasn’t satisfied with would be the levels. Regardless, [Psionic Resistance] was rather self-explanatory. However, he had no clue how to train that skill.
Exhausted but strangely invigorated at the thought of facing an enemy soon, Ethan called it a night. He retreated to his room. Curling up on his bed, he drifted off to sleep.
However, he had the strangest of dream that night.
Ethan found himself in a strange, hazy dreamscape. The world around him shimmered with an otherworldly quality, colors shifting and blending in impossible ways. Fractured glass all around him. Floating, hovering, reflecting. As he tried to get his bearings, a melodious laugh echoed through the air.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the clever little human who thinks he can play with powers beyond his understanding.”
A woman materialized before him, her beauty both alluring and terrifying. The thought alone snapped him out of his revere—the fact that his skill [Psionic Resistance] kicked into overdrive was another indicator that something was wrong.
Very, very wrong.
Wings like a bat’s sprouted from the woman’s back. “I am Lyra,” she said, and her eyes glowed with an unearthly purple light as she circled Ethan predatorily. “And you, Theodore Lockheart, have piqued my interest.”
Was she circling him, though? He couldn’t quite tell. The shattered mirrors, hovering, showed her reflection from a all the directions. Ethan tensed. Even without [Psionic Resistance] blaring alarms at him, he sensed the danger. “What do you want?”
“Oh, I think you know,” Lyra smirked from all over him. “You used me to blackmail poor, pathetic Hector. Quite clever, I must admit.”
“So you and Hector...” Ethan began.
Lyra’s face twisted in disgust. “Please. I didn’t lower myself to actually coupling with that weakling. Some manufactured dreams were enough to ensnare him completely.”
“Then why?” Ethan asked, genuinely curious despite the situation.
“Revenge.” Lyra’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Power. Justice. I was taken from my home as a child, enslaved by humans who saw my kind as nothing but objects to be used. I will make them pay, and free others who suffer as I did.”
“Quite noble.” Ethan said.
Without warning, a mirror broke and she lashed out with a whip-like tendril of purple energy materializing out of thin air.
Shit!
Ethan barely managed to dodge, feeling the crackle of electricity brushing him as it passed inches from his face.
“Impressive reflexes,” Lyra noted. “Let’s see how long you last.”
The dream practically erupted into chaos as Lyra unleashed her full might. Tentacles of shimmering purple energy erupted from the ground, lashing out at Ethan from all directions.
Ethan ducked and weaved, his mind racing as he analyzed the writhing purple tentacles. Their composition seemed to fluctuate between solid and gaseous states. It defied conventional physics. But this was a fuckin dream, and Ethan realized he could bend the rules of reality to his advantage.
Using his [Elemental Spells], Ethan decided to approach this fight differently. He focused on water first, conjuring a dense mist around the tentacles. The water molecules stuck to the magical constructs, fast, and added mass, slowing their movements.
Interesting, Ethan thought. The tentacles seem to have a hydrophilic property.
Building on this observation, Ethan rapidly heated the mist-covered tentacles. The sudden temperature change caused the water to expand explosively into steam, tearing apart the magical constructs at a molecular level.
Next, Ethan turned his attention to air manipulation. He created areas of extreme low pressure around clusters of tentacles, essentially forming localized vacuums. The sudden pressure differential caused the tentacles to expand uncontrollably, stretching and weakening their structure.
Simultaneously, Ethan concentrated on increasing air pressure on the opposite side of the tentacles. This created a shearing force, like an invisible knife slicing through the magical constructs.
Ethan grinned, watching the tentacles disintegrate. This wouldn’t be possible in real life. Not at all. But given that this was a dream—his dream—Ethan had some liberties.
He didn’t give Lyra time to react. Let’s see how far I can push my dream. He willed a thin layer of flammable gas—a mixture of methane and oxygen—into existence, and surrounded himself with it. As the remaining tentacles lashed out, Ethan ignited the gas outward with a thought.
The resulting controlled explosion was spectacular. The rapid expansion of heated gases created a powerful shockwave, incinerating the nearest tentacles and sending Lyra tumbling backward.
Lyra regained her footing. “Clever,” she hissed. “You’re full of surprises. But you’re in my domain now.”
The dream-world warped around them, gravity seeming to shift. Ethan found himself falling, then suddenly weightless. He conjured a vortex of wind, propelling himself through the bizarre landscape as Lyra gave chase.
“Why are you doing this?” Ethan shouted as he narrowly avoided another lashing tentacle. “I’ve done nothing to you!”
“Nothing?” Lyra’s laughter echoed through the dream. “You humans are all guilty! Your kind has oppressed and exploited mine for centuries!”
Ethan felt a strange tingling at the base of his skull. His [Psionic Resistance] was growing stronger, and it was precisely what was him maintain clarity in this dreamscape. He focused, willing a sword into existence. After all, this was his dream. Though it was another matter the woman had practically all of it under her control. The blade materialized in his hand, and Ethan gripped it tight.
Lyra swooped down, talons extended. Ethan brought his sword up, parrying her attack with more skill than he thought possible. His [Swordsmanship] might be novice-level, but in this dream, his mind made it real.
“You’re... different,” Lyra observed, genuine curiosity in her voice. “How are you resisting me so effectively?”
Instead of answering, Ethan went on the offensive. He combined his [Elemental Spells], superheating water into steam and using it to obscure Lyra’s vision. As she faltered, he struck with his sword, scoring a glancing blow across her arm.
Lyra snarled in pain and fury. The dream-world convulsed around them, fragments of memories and nightmares swirling in a maelstrom. Ethan felt his [Arcane Awareness] pulse, allowing him to perceive the flow of magical energy. He could see Lyra’s attacks forming before they manifested, giving him precious seconds to react.
“Enough games!” Lyra roared. A tidal wave of purple energy rose behind her, threatening to engulf Ethan entirely.
In that moment of desperation, Ethan felt something shift within him.
[Psionic Resistance] — Lvl 0 -> Lvl 1!
Just as the skill leveled up, Ethan noticed Lyra weakening. Oh, so it’s a mind-related skill. The skill was pushing back against Lyra’s influence inside his dream. The dreamscape stabilized, the chaotic energies receding.
Ethan immediately removed the mirrors.
“Impossible! How are you doing this?”
Ethan didn’t fully understand it himself, but he seized the opportunity. Okay, let’s see how my Innate Ability works inside a dream. I reckon it would work flawlessly. Inside my dream, nothing but my intention matters. And even if I’m shit at using a skill, or, well, Innate Ability, in the real world, I can use it perfectly here. Thus, he focused on his [Sever] ability. He didn’t know how it worked, but if the word “sever” gave him any indication, it would be rather simple. He visualized his Innate Ability cutting through the very fabric of the dream itself.
The conduit being his sword, he slashed. A pitch-black line expanded from the sword, and hit Lyra as well as the dreamscape itself. The succubus stumbled backward, her power over the dream fading as her connection to his mind got severed. To Ethan’s surprise, she began to laugh.
“Oh, bravo!” Lyra applauded, her demeanor shifting entirely. “I haven’t been bested like that in years.”
Ethan kept his guard up, wary of another trick. “What’s going on?”
Lyra’s smile was equal parts amused and predatory. “This was a test, dear Theodore. And you passed with flying colors.”
“A test?” Ethan repeated incredulously.
“Indeed,” Lyra nodded. “I needed to see what you were truly capable of. Your little soap business intrigued me—it’s quite good for the skin, you know—but I had to be sure you weren’t just another human weakling.”
Ethan lowered his sword slightly, still cautious. “And what did you conclude?”
“That you’re far more interesting than I initially thought,” Lyra said. “That mind-related skill of yours... you must have endured significant mental hardship to develop it. Yet here you stand, not broken, but stronger for it.”
Well, I stared an eldritch horror in the eyes and survived.
She circled him once more, but this time with an air of appraisal rather than menace. “You’re smart, resourceful, and not afraid to play dirty when necessary. I like that.”
“What do you want from me?” Ethan asked.
“Oh, I think we could be quite useful to each other, Theodore. You have ambitions, don’t you? And I... well, I have my own goals to pursue.”
Ethan’s lip curled into a sneer. “And what makes you think I’ll help you in any way?”
Lyra chuckled, a sound that sounded both alluring and dangerous. She’s fucking with me head again.
Ethan hated that.
“Because I know what kind of person you are, Theodore. Your desires, your drive... they’re written all over you.”
For a moment, Ethan thought about it. She was right about Theodore—he’d have been easily swayed. But Ethan wasn’t Theodore. He had the memories, but he wasn’t the same person. Outwardly, he maintained his composure.
“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” Ethan retorted. “But from where I’m standing, all I see is someone consumed by hatred and prejudice. You’re no better than the humans you despise.”
“How dare you!” She growled. “You have no idea what my kind has suffered!”
“And that justifies wholesale slaughter?” Ethan raised an eyebrow.
For a moment, Lyra seemed taken aback. Then her expression shifted, contorting into anger, before it settled, becoming sultry and inviting. “Perhaps I’ve misjudged you. But tell me, won’t you consider joining us Night Whispers? I can show you things beyond your wildest imagination.”
Her gaze flickered pointedly downward, and suddenly Ethan felt a wave of desire wash over him. Lyra became overwhelming, irresistible. Her flicked gaze landed like a spark on dry tinder. A heat roared through him, shoving aside thought and control. Lyra wasn’t just a woman anymore; she was a siren song—a forbidden fruit dangling just out of reach. His breath hitched, his body a taut wire. He wanted to devour her, to carve his claim into that creamy skin his eyes devoured. The civilized veneer he wore felt like a flimsy costume, ready to tear under the onslaught of raw desire. Every fiber of his being screamed to possess her, pin her down and to make her cry out his name in a way that had nothing to do with some stupid skill she used to try and ensnare him through lust.
[Psionic Resistance] — Lvl 1 -> Lvl 2!
Just like that, he came to his senses, realizing that he desperately wanted to train this skill. I will never let this happen again. Lyra, or anyone else, will not catch me off-guard. Never again.
Playing along for now, Ethan let his expression grow hazy with lust. He moved closer to Lyra, who smiled triumphantly.
“That’s it,” she purred, placing a hand on his thigh. “It’s always so easy with you men. So easily played like a damn fiddle. Come closer, darling. Things are changing in this kingdom, Theodore. The old order is crumbling. What do you say we help each other navigate the chaos to come? Don’t you want to join us Night Whispers? Hmm? Don’t you want to join me?”
As her hand began to move up his thigh, Ethan struck. In one motion, he manifested a dagger and plunged it into Lyra’s side, simultaneously activating [Sever].
Lyra’s eyes widened in shock and pain, then her eyes rolled back, and she shuddered as she disappeared.
Before Ethan could respond, he jolted awake, heaving, sweating. Lyra’s words still echoed in his head: “Won’t you join the Night Whispers?”
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AN: Don't worry, something like this won't happen again. I don't like brain-related bullshit, but I needed to write this as she's a major character and her powers needed to be shown to an extent.
Comments
Chase
I read this as an over the pond accent more than a typo
Vincent Sloan
Great chapter, I like you showing the evil of these kinds of power. I don't like when the effects persist for an arc though that's too disconcerting for me. Good job!
Vincent Sloan
Edit suggestions: "from a all the directions." From all directions.
Ace
Thank you!! Small typo says “fucking with me head” instead of “my head”. Great work
Chase
I actually loved this!
Gabriel Melnik
To be honest it was kinda good. More Psionic abilities, spells and segments like this could pair really well with how materialistic has been Ethan's development.
Raymond Mouton
Thanks for the chapter. I appreciate that. Mind control BS, is BS very hard to write well, at least for longer than short stretches of text.
