Chapter 3 (Patreon)

The thing about the Southside residentials was the unfortunate amount of nooks and crannies nestled everywhere. If we hadn’t already been tagged as prey, it would’ve been good for us - I’m sure dipping into one of the dozens of complexes or zipping up a fire escape in order to hide on the second floor patio of some random asshole would’ve been an amazing plan to stay out of trouble. The problem was, we were already in the shits. I had no idea where those goons went, and I didn’t have an ability that allowed me to scout things out, so I was stuck with my very human perception…and was it too late now to say I was in need of glasses?

Unfortunately, random miscellaneous objects didn’t seem to count for my newest magic. Attempting to summon a magical variant of the ID card in my pocket definitely didn’t work, and I had no intentions of pushing the issue in the middle of the sidewalk beside my - tentatively labeled - muggle hobo friend. It would have to be a trial by fire, and something told me that trial would be close at hand soon.

The end of the street was coming up, and right at the corner’s intersection - just before the stop sign, I could see a rundown apartment building. If not for the large, chipped white cross tied crookedly to the gate in front, I would never have noticed. We were still a ways away - maybe a couple minute’s walk - but it was still close enough for me to notice the cross, even if it was a bit blurry.

It was also impossible not to notice the silence. It was a cold, uneasy silence; one that felt artificial, or forced. I glanced behind me, and noticed that the few people who were out letting their dog shit or checking their mail had gone back inside, as if they sensed the stillness in the air themselves.

“Jason,” Cass elbowed my side, and I turned back around to give her a confused glance. Her brow was drawn down in concern. “Look.”

I followed her line of sight, and abruptly, I felt my mouth go dry. Apparently I hadn’t noticed, but there were a few people still out and about. Or, more accurately, people came out as we made our way up the street. Skinheads, for the most part - leaning against stoops, sitting on parked cars. It wasn’t like a mob or something, maybe about five or six in total just watching us - which was very fortunate, because I didn’t think I could handle reenacting a scene from Get Out.

I’d already seen quite a few black, asian, and even hispanic people Downtown anyway, so I knew that the gang couldn’t have been that plentiful and voracious as to lynch any and all people of color on sight. This was targeted and planned ever since they saw the two of us, one black and the other pretty and Asian, seemingly searching for paradise on the back of a bus. Going to one of the few homeless shelters in the Southside must’ve really cinched it in.

It wasn’t just us, individually. They had some sick romantic twist to their savagery. It made me fucking sick to my stomach.

“Keep moving.” I commanded, but my voice was unsure even to my own ears. I gritted my teeth and wrapped my hand around Cassie’s, tugging her with me. “They’re not even hiding anymore. We gotta move.”

“Fuck, okay. Just…fuck.” I could feel her shaking, but she seemed to draw comfort from the skinship. I couldn’t guarantee that we’d be holding hands throughout the entire confrontation, but if it helped her keep going then that’s all I needed for now.

We continued to move down the sidewalk, this time at a much more brisk pace, and the pit in my stomach grew when one of the skinheads - this one wearing a red bomber jacket and shades - made a very obvious gesture to two of his lackeys. They weren’t even that far away, leaning against a building maybe sixty or so feet up the curb, but that distance was quickly disappearing and now the two were making their way towards us.

In my peripheral vision, I could see the asshole in the jacket - who I took as their leader - gesturing to someone else on the other side of the road. They were gonna box us in.

Cassie’s hand tightened on mine, and I narrowed my eyes. If I was gonna nut up and do anything, now was the fucking time. I brought her into this, and although I didn’t have a lot of faith in the shelter, my gut was telling me that gang violence probably wasn’t allowed on the inside. At the very least, I was hoping this ‘Maxine’ chick was both not racist and toting a shotgun. The two goons moving to intercept us didn’t seem to be packing lead, but who knew what they had in the waistband of their jeans.

“Jason…”

“I know. Just-...just follow my lead.”

They were within speaking distance now, and as they swaggered towards us with all the arrogance of two predators cornering prey, I was finally able to take in the full breadth of their ugly life choices without my short-sightedness blurring the details.

The thug on the left was big - much bigger than my average 5’11”, and weighing in on the well sought-after 6’4”. A big, splotchy black swastika ran up the side of his neck, curling in on his acne-scarred face and stopping a few centimeters below his scowling lips. Muscles seemed to be built on top of his muscles, but all of the beefiness lagged towards the middle, where a prodigious beer gut threatened to rip his wifebeater.

Almost in direct contrast, the smaller guy on the right looked…normal. Sure, he was bald, but there were no overt displays of neo-nazism threatening to make him a hit artist on Soundcloud. The wickedness in his eyes when he looked over Cassie, though…beefy or not, I wanted to stomp his fucking face in.

I figured I’d do the ol’ ‘ignore and brush past’ trick, just to see if Lady Luck was watching my shitty isekai adventure with relish, but Wifebeater immediately put an end to that wish by shoulder checking me with his much broader body. I felt the wind get knocked out of me instantly, a rattling wheeze surging from my chest as I bounced backwards and nearly toppled over Cassie.

“Hey! The fuck’s your problem, lard-ass?!” she yelled angrily, fear temporarily forgotten in the face of seeing me eat shit. The girl was dragging me to my feet immediately, and the only lingering evidence of her very genuine fear was the violent shaking of her hands when she grabbed onto me.

The thin thug grinned, showing a gapped row of yellowing teeth. “Oh look,” he drawled, amused, “The chink is worried ‘bout her star-crossed lover. ‘Nuff to make a man like me cry.”

I breathed slowly, steadily, forcing my lungs to take in oxygen at a normal rate. “Cheap shot.” I muttered tersely, wiping my bloody hands on my sweatpants. I must’ve skinned them when I fell.

“What was that? ‘Cause it didn’t fuckin’ sound like an ‘excuse me’, did it Mac?” The mean-eyed thug glanced over to his big partner, Mac apparently.

“Naw.” ‘Mac’ blinked slowly, a scowl on his lips.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Say it again, boy.”

God, hearing such blatant racism in modern day America felt like liquid fire being poured in my veins. Everything in me rebelled against the very thought of not swinging on the ignorant hicks. I’d swung on people in the past for less. But it wasn’t just me in danger here, and I wasn’t brought here with the Celestial Sledgehammer. The confrontation was right in front of me, and I had to think my way through this. My new magic was waiting patiently in my soul to be called upon, and I knew how to use it…I just needed a fucking weapon.

My eyes glanced around sporadically, searching for something sharp in a desperate fervor. My ID card hadn’t worked, but it was a slip of plastic - why would it? But weapons weren’t inherently metal, or even dangerous. Fucking John Wick proved that with a pencil-

“Answer me when I ask a question! Deck ‘em, Mac.”

I focused back on the two, eyes widening as I began to raise my hands. The big guy, Mac, was closing in fast, and I had no time to even think. Instinctively, I moved to throw a punch-

SMACK.

Heat and pain shot through my head, and for a second I was floating. My ear was ringing, my cheek felt like hamburger meat, and I swear I could feel a tooth going down my throat. What the fuck even happened? I could hear yelling, too - loud, scared, angry. It sounded like…

Cass?

I fought through the staticy white noise droning through my skull. I couldn’t just fucking lay here!

“-you doing? We haven’t done shit to any of you!”

“Stupid cunt, it’s one thing to be on our turf. We can hardly stop alla’ yous. But it’s another to be interbreedin’ your nastiness here too.”

“W-what? We’re not even together you hillbilly fuck! Leave us alone!”

Things were blurry, and vaguely, through the ringing and noises, I could hear what sounded like a metallic ‘shlick’. Adrenaline pumped through my body at the distinctly familiar sound, and I forced my eyes to clear. When I did, fear shot through my heart like a bullet.

Cassie was holding a switchblade, one clearly well taken care of, and she was pointing it at the two thugs who seemed genuinely surprised at the move. The shaking of her wrist, though, was too obvious. She wasn’t just scared…no, she was downright horrified. Whether it was due to being in a life or death situation, or because she was being stared down by two nazis and watched at a distance by more, I had no idea.

All I knew was that I had to do something, and she was giving me that opportunity. I reached deep within myself and activated Force of Spirit. The pull on my mana pool was noticeable, but minor.

“Don’t be stupid now, girl. Put that fuckin’ knife down.” No one was listening to Bugs Bunny at this point, though. Cass was too scared, and I was too focused.

I must’ve made a noise when I snapped back to reality, because her eyes darted down towards me for a brief moment. That’s when I realized that I was, in fact, eating shit on the concrete once again. “Jay! D-don’t worry, we-”

Suddenly, as soon as she looked away, Mac the pudgy bulldozer began to move again, and I knew that our time window was practically nonexistent. I had to enact my shittily thought-of plan now.

My voice came out loud, clear, and commanding, causing even the thugs to hesitate for a split second at the sudden power in my tone. “Toss me the knife!”

Her eyes were wide in shock and fear, I noticed, but her body seemed to submit to my demand before her mind even had the opportunity to catch up. The switchblade was tossed my way just as Mac bodily slammed into the small girl, and the sound of something snapping in her body would probably haunt my nightmares for the next few weeks. Still, I couldn’t hesitate out of fear or concern now.

I caught the knife clumsily by the blade, cutting open the palm of my hand, but that pain felt like nothingness in the face of the pure power that filled my body. I knew then, without any doubt or hesitance, how to call forth my magic. It wasn’t a spell by normal mage or wizardry means…Undertale didn’t work like that. It was pure magical power, through and through, and I called upon it the same way I did my other ability - by pulling directly from my mana core.

I could feel the drain immediately, like unclogging matted up hair from your shower drain, but that was fine. Magic like this probably needed precision. Bursts. I instantly deactivated Force of Spirit.

Around me, half a dozen knives of wispy, almost smoke-like gold mana formed like a magical shroud. I could feel each one, and knew that, with only a little urging from my mind, I could send them flying at my enemies. Now was not the time to think deeper on the ramifications of actually doing it, though. I’d never been squeamish about violence, and that wouldn’t start now.

Eyes cold and fierce, I twisted the switchblade around in my palm and gestured towards Mac. “Go.”

And my magical blades responded instantly. All six shot forward too fast for me to track, completely silent other than a graceful ‘woosh’ that sounded more like a bird of prey diving at a meal.

“AHHH FUCK!” The thuggish brute choked out a scream as the magical switchblades embedded hilt-deep into the side of his torso, sending him toppling over to the side and off of the groaning and dazed Cassie. I didn’t have time to check on either of them, though - I was already dashing at the skinny bastard.

“...What the fuck?! Cape? CAPE! BOSS, HE-”

There were only a few feet between the two of us, and he was not in the right mindset to defend himself so suddenly. There was a brief feeling of nausea as the very real switchblade sank deep into the nazi’s gut, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t trained for four odd years to kill for even worse reasons. I didn’t hesitate to wrench the knife out and plug another hole in the bastard’s chest for good measure. Warm blood squelched around the blade, drenching my hands and staining my navy hoodie with red.

“Ughhhh…” I glanced over to the sprawled mess that was the brutish nazi and a cursing Cass. She was conscious and starting to sit up, fortunately, but her ankle was fucked - that had to have been the snap earlier. Mac was still alive, and I didn’t know whether or not I was happy about that. He was collapsed, groaning, and seemingly unconscious, but definitely not bleeding out. The knives had already faded from his body, leaving only singed holes in his tank top. Why the fuck was he still alive?

The sound of rushing footsteps from the street caused me to dart my head in that direction. Two thugs - the ones who the leader had gestured to a couple minutes prior - were sprinting in my direction. One hand a baseball bat clenched in his grip, and the other had…

My heart stopped.

“Get down!” I hissed at Cass, leapfrog-tackling her back to the ground as gunshots started to hit the rundown building above us. I did my best to avoid jostling the clearly broken ankle with my knee, but judging by her pained cry of ‘fucker!’ I clearly didn’t do a good enough job. “Gettin’ shot at, bear with me!”

I rolled to my side, drawing on my dwindling mana pool and conjuring another two mana-knives overhead. Fortunately Mac had tackled her behind a bit of cover in the form of a knocked over mailbox, one of those chunky blue ones, so I was still able to see the thugs well enough to send the twin golden blades darting through the air towards their faces.

In their defense, they did attempt to dodge, but it seemed like my magical weapons moved at roughly the speed of a particularly lethal arrow, meaning…they had no chance. This time, when the golden blades ‘thunk’d’ inside of their faces, I knew that they were dead. There was no blood, no gory display of bone and brain matter…just the mana-shaped knives peacefully going into their flesh, and them careening backwards and collapsing bonelessly in the middle of the street.

In the brief, few seconds of respite I had then, I felt my soul line snap while attempting to bring in another ability, but I had no time to worry about missed opportunities. The asshole in the red bomber was yelling animatedly into his phone while gesturing down the street towards us, and I just knew that whatever he was saying would not, in any way, bode well for me or Cass.

However, it seemed like he was the last E88 thug in the area, and I didn’t like the thought of just leaving loose ends. My mana pool was the lowest it’d been so far - I needed food, water, and definitely some rest - but I felt like I had enough for a few more knives.

“Jason…” Cassie’s voice brought me out of my intense observation of the leader, and I whipped my head back to look at her. She was holding her fucked up ankle, pain etched into every crevice on her face…but when she looked at me, I didn’t sense any fear. I half expected her to go hobbling off crying ‘murderous cape’ or something, but she just seemed…sorta surprised? Grateful? It didn’t matter, I had to go take care of Nazi Ring Leader #1. Now wasn’t the time to second guess myself or let myself be weighed down by fear.

If I stopped now, I was scared I wouldn’t get back up to fight again. I needed to keep going.

“Hold that thought, Cass. Icin’ nazis right now.”

“But-”

I pushed off of my knuckles and feet, going from lying on the sidewalk behind the mailbox to outright sprinting up the road. The gunshots would definitely have drawn attention, and I really didn’t want to be in the area when and if more gang bangers or cops showed up. My ‘action hero’ meter was already filled up for the day, and it was barely 11 AM.

Weapon Magic came easier to me now, each magical switchblade draining a small amount of mana as the golden weapons hovered just over my head. One, two, three, four of them rotated in place, ready to peel off and…nonlethally kill people?

My movement didn’t go unnoticed, and it wasn’t like I could even be stealthy with the man watching me from the hood of what I assumed to be his Charger, parked at the top of the curb. Panic was clear in his body language now as he ducked behind his car and grabbed for something in the seat, but I was already close enough to get a bead on his location.

‘I’m up, he sees me, I’m down!’

I dove behind another mailbox as the first pistol shot rang out, and stumbled more than rolled the rest of the distance behind a parked F-150. Two more shots rang out, the loud, metallic ‘plink’ telling me that the rounds were slamming against the front of the poor truck.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

As soon as the pistol spat out the last bullet, I gritted my teeth, squeezed my asscheeks, and twisted out from behind cover. I lashed forward with Cass’s switchblade like a fucking magical wand, forcing the mana blades hovering around me to blast forward with more speed than normal. I emptied out my already dwindling pool of magic, assured in the knowledge that it would grow stronger and regenerate from this expenditure, and was rewarded with displaced cracks of air as the magical switchblades tore through the streets with the speed of bullets.

The distance between the two of us was still pretty wide - maybe around 80 or 90 feet - but my aim didn’t need to be the greatest when a simple command sent the blades flying in a straight line. I was barely able to see the result since I threw myself back into cover almost immediately, but judging by the scream of pain and lack of return fire…I assumed that I managed to land at least one of them.

‘That excellent marksmanship badge has to count for something, right?’ I snorted, cautiously sticking my hand out from behind the Ford. A few seconds passed and no bullets turned my arm to swiss cheese, so I tentatively stepped out from behind the bullet-ridden truck and made my way up to the nazi’s Charger. It was pretty swanky - seemed modern, and the paint wasn’t as bright-ugly red as the loser owner’s jacket, so I had to give him a point towards car taste at the very least.

I found two of my mana blades sticking inside of the passenger door, warping the paint around them, and the other two were…

Well, they didn’t actively tear into his neck and forehead at least, so all I saw was his limp body lying on the pavement with little golden switchblades embedded in the flesh. As soon as I thought about them disappearing, all of the switchblades faded away into little motes of golden mana which dematerialized into thin air.

Huh. Pretty handy. Just in case, I crouched down to check his pulse. Dead stillness met my fingers. Dead as a fuckin’ doorknob.

I shook my head, brushing the thought away.

“Now for the good part…” I muttered, cinching my hoodie strings tighter so that it rode up to securely cover the bottom of my face. Satisfied that any nosy onlookers, if they decided to come outside within the next hour, wouldn’t see much of my face, I began digging around the dead nazi’s pockets. I didn’t have much time before whoever the fuck he was on the phone with showed up, and the E88 had some really scary fuckers on their rosters - all of ‘em Capes. We weren’t gonna get too far on foot with Cass having a broken ankle, though, and considering the fact that ol’ boy had a whole wine red muscle car just going to waste here…

“Aha!” I pulled his keys out of his jacket’s right pocket, frowning minutely down at the black and red swastika attached to the keyring. A quick yank broke it off, and I disgustedly tossed it down onto its former owner’s chest. Pocketing the keys, I spent a few seconds combing around the vehicle for anything overtly…nazi-like. There was another swastika hanging from the rearview mirror, and I had to toss out a mini version of Mein Kampf, but otherwise the car was pretty normal.It even smelled decent, which surprised me. I figured all nazis smelled like rotten eggs and urine.

I am not ashamed to admit that I took a moment to loot the dead dude’s wallet, which had a nice few hundreds just sitting idly inside. Yoink.

When I finally cranked the bad boy up and drove down the street to pick up my crippled hitchhiker, Cassie was sitting on the side of the curb with her arms crossed and a very unimpressed frown on her face. I rolled the passenger-side window down and matched her frown with an innocent smile.

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping.”

Silence met my shitty reference. Hell, did they even have Mean Girls in Earth Bet? Or maybe it was my monotonous delivery-

“Jay,” Cass cut through my inner monologue, struggling to stand on one leg in order to move towards the door. I moved to hop out and help, obviously, but she shook her head with a sardonic chuckle. “I feel useless enough right now, I can get in by myself - don’t worry. But you know this car’s probably gonna be tracked down, right?” She swung the door open and carefully lowered herself into the passenger seat, not able to hide her winces of pain whatsoever.

I gave a shrug. I knew that, of course. “We’ll ditch it once we make it to a hospit-”

“No!” Cass suddenly yelled, eyes wide and wild as she jerked her head towards me. Doing so seemed to jostle her ankle, though, as she almost immediately groaned and leaned back into the leather seat. “Fuck. Sorry. Just-...no hospital, please. I’ll be fine, just head towards the Docks.”

I blinked, heart still beating a bit faster at the abrupt shout. “...Yeah, alright. What, you got some secret base out there? All secret-identitied up and everything?”

“...” She fiddled with her phone, pouting down at the cracked screen.

“...Bullshit.” I gaped, surprise pulling my brows up into my hairline as I pulled out of Monroe Avenue and onto the slow and quiet highway.

Cassie side-eyed me, her pout stretching up into a sardonic smirk. “Yeah? And I’m guessing the whole golden lightshow was part of the reason why your dad kicked you out.” The heavy dosage of sarcasm coating her words made it clear just how much she believed that theory.

“Touche.” I closed my gaping mouth, returning my tired gaze to the road.

Silence descended inside the car, broken momentarily by me reaching forward to turn the heater on. It wasn’t a comfortable silence, per se - not like what we had before all of the magic was thrown around and I left four dead bodies cooling before happy hour. I didn’t really know where to drive in order to reach the Docks, but Cassie hadn’t admonished me for missing a turn yet so I figured I was going roughly in the right direction.

I was more puzzled on why she didn’t seem too…shocked by my abilities. Or by me killing those assholes. Sure, they were racist nazis who attacked first, but most human beings didn’t just kill that easily. I hadn’t exactly wanted to kill them myself, but they’d seen my face and didn’t seem like the type to just let bygones be bygones. I’d killed before coming to Brockton Bay, and the act had never bothered me the same way it did other people. Logically, I knew why - a big part being my own mental quirks.

I just didn’t expect her to be as…okay with everything?

“If you’re thinking that everything’s all peachy right now, you’d be wrong.” Cassie’s low voice sounded from beside me. I didn’t glance over, opting to stay focused on the road, but the slow, rhythmic tapping of my index finger against the cheetah-printed steering wheel was evidence enough that I was listening.

“I’m not…well, I’m not a hero. Or a villain. Or a killer. I got a place in the Docks, but it’s not much, and it’s more of a…hideaway.” She let out a few dry chuckles, and began flicking away at her cracked phone screen again. I felt like it was more of a comfort thing than anything else. Another small stretch of silence passed, before she sighed violently and spoke again, “I’m a Tinker…not that I can even do much. I can make phone apps, I guess - programs and stuff. Coding. And I can hack into things pretty easily, but in a place like Brockton Bay…”

“Yeah, a lotta places are probably on the lookout for shit like that, right?” I finally spoke up, glancing over at Cassie.

She nodded quickly, seemingly both relieved and nervous that I was taking active part in the conversation. “Yup. It’s why I got, uhh…” She bit her thin bottom lip, eyes darting everywhere but my face. It only took a moment for her to muscle up the courage to finish the sentence. “I got caught up with a bad crowd, wasn’t really planning on staying for too long…and figured I’d skim a bit off the top before I left, maybe help some friends out too on the way out. I r-rushed the plan, got a lotta good people fucked over.”

I could practically feel the hurt in her voice as she spoke. It pulled at my empathy - or maybe that was the Grimoire attempting to reel in yet another mote of light. Regardless, I felt for her. Cassie was sorta like me, in a sense - a strong girl who tried not to let other people in too deep, because her inside was actually really soft. I wasn’t a girl, and neither was my insides super soft or whatever…but the rest of it fit.

I took my right hand off of the steering wheel and silently laid it on her knee. Her small hand gripped it almost immediately after.

“People get greedy, and you were probably pretty young. Shit happens, Cass.” I tried to reassure her.

Cassie shook her head stubbornly. “I was sixteen. I was young, yeah, but I should’ve known better. The ABB doesn’t play around with their ‘merchandise’.” She spat the last word out like poison, and I was idly glad that this wasn’t actually my car.

“Yeah, well you got a yellow laser pointer as a homie now so…ABB beware, right?” I offered her an intentionally cheesy grin, hoping to get at least one genuine smile out of the downtrodden girl now dubbed ‘illegal hacker’.

Her lips warbled upwards in a facsimile of a smile, so I took that as minor success.

“You ever gonna explain that, by the way? Like, did you already have that in…’reserve’ or-”

I glanced away as the mote of light in my soul tried to worm away out of my fishing line. The Grimoire probably didn’t like being ignored, and honestly, I didn’t really wanna go into the origins of my magic right now anyway. If she hung around me for much longer, she’d be seeing a lot more than piss knives, and the less I had to explain away each spell the better. I doubt I could just say ‘HA I’m a mage, silly cape’.

“-ason, no, you are not zoning your way outta this one you asshole-”

Spellcaster (Terraria - 100 CP): Everyone who comes here may gain the potential to cast spells, but you are a cut above the rest. Your Mana Pool is twice as large, and has the potential to grow even farther, and magic that you cast is simply more potent compared to what it might be normally. Spells you cast hit harder and are harder to resist.

My lips twitched up into a smirk, and I reeled the mote of light into my soul with a speed that would make pro fishermen jealous.

“Ew, don't smirk and smolder while ignoring me. You are definitely up to something wei-”

I could feel my mana, previously running on empty and reminiscent to a small pond, suddenly double in size. Now it felt like a…medium-sized pond? But the mana within was stronger, denser, more viscous and potent as opposed to its previous thin and crisp feeling.

It wasn’t an array of crazy spells or magical items, but the passive improvement was possibly more valuable than all of that.

I pulled myself out of my inner examination just as we reached a red light. Traffic was still light, with only a couple cars behind me from what I could see in my rearview mirror, but I still felt antsy. We were, so far, outta the area where all the action went down, but I probably wouldn’t feel completely safe until we were out of the Downtown area completely.

I patted the silently frowning Cassie’s knee once as an apology. “Sorry ‘bout that…was just thinking about something again.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah? And what was more important than you answering my earnest questions and earning back my trust?”

“Lunch. You wanna grab some Fugly Bob’s on the way to your place? Their leader had three hundred bucks on him.” I withdrew my hand in order to reach into my pocket and toss her the crisp ‘hunnids.

Cassie snorted. “Asshole. Fine, but you gotta take a right at this next stop sign.”

“Aye aye.”

Perks Received:

Spellcaster (Terraria - 100 CP) Everyone who comes here may gain the potential to cast spells, but you are a cut above the rest. Your Mana Pool is twice as large, and has the potential to grow even farther, and magic that you cast is simply more potent compared to what it might be normally. Spells you cast hit harder and are harder to resist.

700 CP Remaining.