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Chapter 29 - Cores and Consequences
🕑 Added 2025-07-10 09:19:47 +0000 UTCRennia stirred from the rock she was slumped against. Her chest ached, and her legs were sore from walking and scrambling to put up a defense. She had only consumed a few droplets of the potion—Ishmere's healing magic had done more than enough to close her wounds and prevent the claw marks from becoming permanent scars. It was a pity the average magic spell didn't target the pain in one's back, because she absolutely felt the worst of it now.
Panthers like the one that attacked them weren't low-level foes. It was likely that this was barely an adult. Woodland panthers were known to grow at least a meter above human height. This wasn't her first encounter with one, just the first time she had fought one and it left her bloody.
They got lucky.
Ishmere had passed out next to her, dazed and probably out of mana—something that could only be cured by sustenance and sleep. Sadly, Rennia didn't have any healing potions, as it wasn't something she'd ever needed. That might change with time.
She watched distant caravans pass them by. A few had looked in their direction with periscopes, uncaring but curious about whatever had happened to them. Scouting for potential danger, perhaps. None were chivalrous enough to check on two ladies, though in that sense they were fortunate—could've been travelling bandits or worse.
[Sexual discipline] had practically saved her life. Sure, Ishmere probably had a trump card tucked away somewhere, but it had actually saved her. It actually worked, and that made her severely uncomfortable. It should have been disgusting, horrifying even. Horniness had saved her from being panther food. But that moment of sexual weakness had confirmed something—arousal was a weapon she could potentially use now. All she had to do was see something that made her throb hard and she would elevate herself. But her cock growing mid-fight was a liability too. If it grew too hard, it made walking around different, and what if she was out in public?
The whole skill use felt wrong, like she had been cheating with a handicap. No class skill she had learned from a textbook operated in that way. It just shouldn't, but it did, and it frightened her.
She turned to the sleeping sage. She could deal with the mental crisis later.
Ishmere, who claimed to be so much more, was so vulnerable in her sleep, so...so vulnerable and exposed. Rennia tapped herself on the cheek—not the thought process one should have when rock hard. It was wrong—she also needed to wake Ishmere, or they'd spend half the afternoon getting to places they needed to go to. Best get those errands done before nightfall.
Some time had passed and they were on the road again, moving like slugs in the rain, as Rennia trailed behind with a bag slung over her shoulders, grunting every five minutes. The city, however, was not that far anymore. She could see it clearly on the horizon. Long towers were stretched out and arranged miles apart from each other, smoke billowing from the city and long grey statues gazing at them from afar. The circular walls of the city were surrounded by a moat and an excavated castle.
Every grunt made her even angrier. Ishmere mumbled. The road forward was quiet and quite painful.
Another carriage was approaching down the path. Rennia nudged Ishmere, who stirred awake from her mindless march. She started waving her hands and clapping in hopes that it would slow down.
The carriage slowed as it passed just by them. Rennia waved frantically to the driver. "Hey! Hey there, sir! We're travelers in need—can we catch a ride to the city? We can pay!"
The driver's face paled and his eyes darted to his sword. A head stuck out of the vehicle, and a man with an obscene mustache gave them one long, terrible look.
"Please, we've been walking for hours. We just need to get to the market district. We're not bandits or anything—"
Eyes narrowed, mustaches snarled and twirled, the man inside's judgment was already made.
Rennia felt horribly self-conscious—there were blood marks and dirt on her body, and Ishmere, who didn't understand a shred of modesty, had her shirt half unbuttoned.
"Rabble! Nightwalkers and whores, by the looks of you," he shouted in the most posh accent imaginable. Rennia winced at their poor appearance. Mustached man clicked his fingers and gave her a scoffing look, then shouted to the driver. "Drive, nothing for us here."
The driver acknowledged the signal and gave them side glances, and the carriage sped up. Ishmere, being the hag-brat she was, tossed a rock at the wheel of the carriage. Rennia grabbed her from behind, attempting to hold her back.
"What are you doing? They clearly don't want to deal with us."
"Pompous snobs. Did you see how he looked at us? Like we were dirt beneath his boots. I'll remember that bastard's face. Mark my words—I'll deal with him once I get myself sorted again."
"Cool it. Do you want your tavern to be burned a second time?" Rennia asked with a sigh. They stood there in the dust for a moment.
It was worth a try atleast. Rejected once again—it was like the world was telling her she didn't need to be a part of it. Of course, they looked very suspicious. She wouldn't blame them for that.
Ishmere didn't cool down. No, she got heated. She started twitching her hands over her stomach, and she made a pained face. Rennia saw her eyes go sideways; it looked as though she was on the verge of vomiting. "Mmmhff, casting that spell this early since anchoring myself was too high-tier—my mana core hurts like fucking hell."
Rennia shook her head. "Mana cores? What are you, a monster? What are you talking about? Sentients don't have mana cores!"
Ishmere snorted. "Spoken like a true peon who knows nothing of the magical methods. Sure, maybe the mages of Kibblestadt have no bearing or understanding of the center, but it is very much a real thing. It's not a [monster core] or something that drops from the body, Rennia. So since you'll be serving as my main aid and magical apprentice, let me enlighten you in ways a textbook could never teach a swashbuckling femme fatale such as yourself."
She put her hands on Rennia's stomach and then squeezed. "Hey, what the hell are you do—" Rennia gasped and stepped backwards as she felt a pain that she couldn't physically describe, but it hurt.
Ishmere looked up at her, unsatisfied and dismissive. "You feel that pain? That's what happens when you are deprived of mana. Now, a jack-of-all kitchen utensils such as yourself would never have known about it, but all mages possess it. That's your center where all mana is stored, channeled and refined." She touched her own stomach with a frown. "My reserves haven't built up properly. I barely got any sleep, and that fight drained me completely. I feel your pain ten times over right now. I hope that puts my seemingly weak display of power into proper perspective."
"Okay, okay, I get it. But did you really need to give a physical demonstration? That hurt like a bitch."
"Pain is the greatest teacher. You'll remember this lesson far better than any lecture I could give you."
Trembling, Rennia backed away from the wizardess—or witch, depending on her mood—and walked forward. It was awkward. She could feel little sparks of static buzzing in her tummy and up towards her lungs. When she had cast a spell prior to this debacle, it was simply something her class willed her to do. This feeling—it was otherworldly and strange.
"Let's just get a move on. Next time you do something like that, warn me first. I don't like surprises, especially painful ones."
Ishmere, writhing in her pain, shook her head. "The path to power is riddled with magic and lewdness, Rennia. If you can't handle a little discomfort now, maybe you aren't worthy of what I'm offering you."
"And what exactly are you offering me? Because so far it's been nothing but trouble and pain."
"Power beyond your wildest dreams. But first, you must learn to embrace the uncomfortable truths of magic."
Rennia grunted but kept moving, occasionally having to stop to tend to Ishmere's exhaustion. Such as giving her "mana" induced tummy rubs. There was a constant tickling sensation in her navel, just faintly where Ishmere's mysterious touch had resided—something enchanting and old. It didn't take long for the system to let her know what.
Skill obtained: [Manasense]
