Soul of Blades - Chapter 47: Altered (Patreon)

Alex frowned, confusion and concern etched across his face. "What did you do? And where is the Queen's mana core?"

Mira shifted uncomfortably and her wary gaze met his. "Look, calm down," she began, her voice a mix of defensiveness and regret. "I had to use the core to grow stronger—I didn’t even get a chance to see the second Insight, it’s reward… I had to give up on trying to understand it to save him. It was the only way to bri-” she paused, hesitant to continue. “It was all I could do to save him."

John propped himself up on his elbows, looking between Alex and Mira. A smile cracked his pale face. "Dude, it’s ok. It’s better than being dead. I don’t think I had enough blood to make it, anyway."

Alex stared at John, his silhouette illuminated by the dim bioluminescent light, he felt the sound waves of his words deep into the surface of John's legs, painting an image of false humanity. While the rest of him was normal and human, nothing but carapace and insectile muscle lay beneath the surface of his legs. "And John's legs...?" His voice trailed off, lost for words.

Mira diverted her gaze momentarily, then locked eyes with Alex. "The queens core," she murmured, a trace of mystery in her tone. “It wasn’t anything like the others.”

Alex's attention returned to Mira, noting the changes in her appearance. Mira stood in the chamber, gold strands of her hair falling around her shoulders to catch the light in a way that sparkled suspiciously like gold would. Wait, that's not ‘like’ gold, that is actual gold, Alex’s eyes widened in surprise as he peered closer. The material essence of each thin strand of her hair reflected the sparse light, its metallic nature causing the light to sparkle and shift with her every move. She tilted once more and the movement was made with an ease that suggested perfect control, a mastery of movement and dexterity reflected in the lightness of her stance.

Her form now bore little resemblance to the human girl Alex had known. She looked older, somewhere around Alex’s Pyran age of being in the early twenties. And she was kinda… hot.

As he drew nearer, the unique blend of colors in her eyes came into focus, akin to precious metals finely wrought into a singular form.

In that moment, Alex found himself momentarily lost, entranced by the way she seemed to embody the delicate balance between earthly beauty and something almost celestial. It was as if she walked in a realm where time and beauty conspired to carve from her every feature an ode to perfection, leaving those who beheld her in silent awe. Stepford wife much, Alex thought as he took a step closer. Gold aside, how does she look so… good? Like the exact type of woman most would be extremely attracted to? What are the chances? Alex thought with mild suspicion, and why does that make me suspicious? He was beginning to realize that being reborn into a magical world where everything tried to kill him either immediately or at its earliest convenience was beginning to alter his views on almost everything he encountered.

She held near-perfect features. Almost… too perfect. It was uncanny, as though her appearance had been a result of design rather than genetics.

"You're different," Alex noted, his eyes tracing the swirling trails of metal in her sword before returning to meet hers.

Miras hands briefly tightened into fists, then slowly relaxed as she opened and closed her hands, looking at them as if seeing them for the first time. "I had to... for him," she spoke softly, almost to herself.

“But why is the change so… drastic?" he asked.

Mira looked down at herself, then back up at Alex. "I… evolved. More than once. The system-visions and the Queen’s core helped with that." She turned to face John.

With every move and gesture, her physical conditioning was evident, betraying a discipline akin to that of a seasoned athlete. It was a conditioning Alex knew had only been gained in minutes at the least, or hours at the most through some change that had occurred during his Dao-vision. That’s it, the Dao, the realization hit him swiftly. The other insight was an insight of evolution. That has to be it.

Alex tilted his head, observing Mira's transformation with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Do you have a Dao now?" His question cut through the quiet of the chamber, resonating off the stone walls.

Mira paused, her gaze distant as if peering into memories only she could see. "The visions… The Dao? Is that what that was?" Her brows furrowed in confusion, then widened in awe as her voice trailed off, a sense of wonder mingling with confusion. "Indescribable," she finally whispered, her focus returning. "It was indescribable." She shook her head slowly, her eyes lost in the recollection. "It was too much all at once, and there was so much more, I felt it, it was endless." She glanced at her hands, as if seeing them anew. Her eyes seemed to reflect a universe of possibilities, untamed and vast. "It was overwhelming, like a torrent... endless. I tried to understand, to grasp..." Her fingers flexed open, then closed into a tight grip around the sword she held, its metal swirling as if responding to her turmoil.

A pause, with winds from the deep crack in the chamber swirling dust between them.

"I was so close." Her voice carried a wistful tone, a whisper of the vastness she had touched.

Then her expression clouded, shoulders slumping ever so slightly. "I'm still trying, but it's too hard. Too much." She clenched her fists, her knuckles whitening, the sword of swirling metal in her grip quivering from the force. "The visions gave me skills instead. But there was so much more, just out of reach." Her voice faltered and determination flared in her eyes as she looked up,  “I won’t stop until I grasp it. It was so vast, It felt... infinite."

Mira's gaze drifted off, as if sifting through a sea of unspoken thoughts.

"Yeah, that sounds like the Dao," Alex nodded slowly before leaning in slightly, intrigued by her struggle and resolve. "But you said the insights gave you skills? The visions?"

Mira took a deep breath, steadying herself. She nodded, a fleeting smile crossing her lips despite the weight of her revelations. "Yeah…" She met his gaze, a glimmer of determination shining through. "‘Evolutionary Healing’ & ‘Natural Reselection’." She explained, her voice gaining strength. "Evolutionary Healing lets me heal others, but it shifts their biology to match mine, and I can only use it once a week.” She paused, considering her next words carefully. "And Natural Reselection, it’s like my body learns from each brush with death, growing stronger from any wound that fails to kill me."

Alex absorbed her words, he didn't know the insights would give skills to those who failed to grasp even a shred of the Dao. But it made sense, a reward had to be rewarding, and to merely witness the Dao would set you on a path to forever seek it. But those skills… So as long as she doesn't die she’ll get  stronger in a way that counters whatever harmed her? Damn… that's pretty OP. He considered his own gains, But then again, I just got an unblockable attack… A ‘Probability Cut’… I wonder how the two skills would interact? I mean, the Dao attack only seemed to alter a millisecond of the attack to guarantee some form of contact but not the type of contact; it could be a glancing blow, a brush, or even a block… it simply means the blow can't be evaded. So how would the skill cause her evolve past that? His curiosity was purely academic. Maybe that's why parts of her are gold? Her hair, eyes and nails… maybe even her bones… Like the Queens sword that struck her…

As Alex pondered Mira's transformation, connecting the dots between John's monstrous legs hidden beneath human flesh and Mira's nature. A realization dawned on him; if John's legs, now partially monstrous, were healed using the changes gained from consuming the Queen's mana core, given Mira's drastic evolution it stood to reason that John may not be entirely human.

Alex took a step closer to the guard, examining John's legs. "But your legs… what’re you, half human now?"

"Not the usual recovery, huh. How can you even tell, anyway?" John laughed, the sound ringing slightly in the chamber. “But nah,” He examined his legs, bending a knee before straightening to test his balance on legs that were no longer just his own. Then he grinned with a crooked smile, ”I’m still the real deal."

Alex’s brow furrowed at John's comment as he paused, a sigh escaping his lips as the weight of their completed journey settled in. “Well, we made it.” His two companions nodded in agreement, a sad look still held on Mira’s brow.

Alex eyes scanned their surroundings in search of an exit, as more poignant details recaptured his notice. Scattered trinkets surrounded them, treasure ripe for the taking. “Look,” he said, pointing at the nearest mound, then to another, a smile beginning to form. “That's a hell of a lot of treasure.”

John's head cocked at Alex’s words and er followed his gaze. “Sure, but…What's hell got to do with treasure?”

***

In the aftermath of their exchange, the trio turned their attention to the chamber's treasures. Swords, armor, and trinkets littered the ground, a chaotic path of opportunity left by their battle. Alex moved first, his eyes drawn to items glowing with an inner magic visible only to him. He paused constantly at items that seemed to hum with energy, touching a sword that held a faint line of many racing up its centre to feel vibrations under his tracing fingers. The touch sent it swiftly to his Inventory’s pocket dimension.

Mira and John followed, each picking through the remnants of the Queen's hoard for items of their own.

Mira knelt beside a shattered chest, her hands sifting through the debris until they closed around a set of bracers that hummer softly with latent energy. With undivided focus, she carefully extracted the pair of armguards from the rubble to examine them closely, turning the items over in her hands to catch the light. The faint hum emanating from them suggested an innate magic, and her fingers traced their contours with a reverence reserved for what she evidently believed to be treasures of significant power.

"Wait, how are we going to carry all of this back?" John gaze swept over the amassed hoard with practical concern, his voice breaking the concentrated silence. Without a word, Alex retrieved the spatial satchel from his side, its ordinary appearance belying its extraordinary function. He experimentally placed his finger in the item, ready to jerk away at the first sign of mishap.

[Access equipment designated ‘Spatial Satchel’s dimensional space?]

Alex felt his mana briefly surge to connect with the small pouch, before his senses expanded even further to connect with a pocket space that was only slightly smaller than the volume and contours of his Inventory skill. There within the space lay two rocks he had placed in the satchel earlier. With a flex of his will, the items fell from the satchel to clatter to the ground. He unceremoniously tossed the satchel in Johns direction.

"Here, take this, but I'll need it back once we're done," Alex said with a flick of his wrist.

John extended his a to catch the satchel without taking his eyes off the pile before him, immediately, he moved to store the treasures away.

Alex paused, a thought had occurred to him. There may be more dimensional bags among the Queen's hoard. It might be a good idea to check, he thought, storing another item away in his personal inventory. “John… John, John?” The guard appeared to ignore him. “hey! dude?”

John held a crown that sparkled and appeared to bend any light that it touched “oh sorry, I was distracted.” He tore his gaze away from the crown as if pulled from a daze.

Alex paused to eye John and the crown curiously. "Look out for any more bags like this one. They could be among the treasure."

The collection of treasures grew as they continued their search. Each item held a uniqueness, a remnant of power or history from the world Alex was still coming to understand. Just under a century's worth of conquests lay around him, held in treasures that he was certain was among the best the queen had possessed. It stood to reason that lesser items would be distributed amongst the swarm, while the best remained as trophies or rewards.  Among the items, a few stood out for their exceptional magic, their imperceptible inner glow, only noticeable once in close proximity, acted as soft beacons to Alex's senses.

Alex turned the latest relic he found in his hand, its edges reflecting the light of the chamber. It was one of many. "Well, at least we didn't come back empty-handed. Though I suppose surviving is its own kind of treasure, isn't it?"

John's brows furrowed, his mouth agape for a brief moment before snapping shut.  "What? No, treasure is its own kind of treasure,"

He shook his head and a sigh escaped him, sharp and disbelieving. "Please don't say something so upsetting in front of me again." John then picked up a nearby sword, testing its weight with a few practiced swings before storing it away.

Well he's not wrong, Alex thought with a smirk,  eyeing the town guard. John's gaze was locked onto Alex’s dimensional pouch, held firm in his grasp. There was more than just chamber light reflected in his eyes. It was as if the very thought of riches unfound and a lifetime of wealth, estates, renown and quite possibly a maid of some sort were right there within reach, all stored within the enchanted bag.

Alex stifled a chuckle.

Alex, now significantly more powerful but also deeply contemplative of the fading visions implications, rose to his feet. There were still many treasures left, but he had scoured the chamber to pick any items with even a hint of magic, all that remained where masterworks or items made from precious metals. The three of them carried everything they’re skills and equipment would allow them to, with the most precious items stored safely in Alex’s Inventory skill, and spatial satchel. Thoughts of his vision and the dangers of the imperials became replaced with thoughts of treasure, the power boost he would gain from the wealth of magical items he now possessed, and a need to escape the underground labyrinth he found himself at the heart of.  He stored the last magicail tem away, leaving behind a silence that spoke volumes.

"Mira," Alex repeated, nodding. "We need to make sure that the townsfolk didn't die in vain and that this," he gestured to the fallen queen, "ends the threat to the nearby settlements."

Mira nodded in agreement, her determination clear. "There are others who were taken. We should free them, if they're still here. I have something I'd like to ask, once we're done. "

John nodded in agreement and the trio rose, each of them carrying as much treasure as they could.

Together, they searched the queen's chamber and its many halls, heading deep into its branching pathways to uncover hidden cells where the swarm had kept her prisoners. They found a few survivors, disoriented but alive, and began the process of leading them out of the labyrinthine hive. The rite had long since ended, and the surviving members of the swarm, now note powerful, all seemed to bow in reverence before Mira, treating her as a replacement for the massive void of purpose left in the queen's wake. The survivors watched in confusion, too scared to question their escape from certain death.

Eventually, they made it out of the hive, through the wilderness, and back to the town where they were met with praise and scrutiny in equal measure. John answered all questions and reported in, before racing away to return to Alex, the light of monetary greed still bright in his eyes.

They left the guards and survivors to find a blacksmith, it was time to appraise thier hoard.

The trio advanced through the narrow, mist-laden streets of the awakening town, their footsteps muffled by the damp cobblestone. Alex led, the eyeing his surroundings with curiosity, his enchanted armor hidden under his worn cloak.

John trailed a step behind to cast a weary eye over the shadowed alleyways. The discovery of more treasure than he'd ever hoped to see in his life had him on edge, despite not a soul knowing what they carried in their possession, he kept a weary gaze, as if each corner held would-be thieves eager to rob them of their bounty. "If Gren’s ale is as potent as our find, we might need to brace ourselves for quite the morning," he murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement at his attempt to alleviate his nerves. John often laughed at his own jokes, and why wouldn't he? As far as he was concerned, he was hilarious.

Mira remained silent, her focus on the path ahead, though John's attempt at levity brought a fleeting, reluctant smile to her lips.

John, his demeanor undimmed by the oppressive atmosphere, kept pace behind Alex. "You reckon Gren’s ever laid eyes on something like this?," he mused, his voice a low rumble in the quiet of the morning.

The blacksmith's forge loomed ahead, its dim light a beacon in the predawn gloom.  As they approached, the billowing from within offered a welcoming warmth to their weary bones. They entered it's interior. Grenthar himself, a smith of some renoun who Alex had discovered to be John’s uncle, stood as a silhouette against the flames, his figure imposing, shaped by years of toil. A bang from his hammer sounded in time with their entrace.

Grenthar, the silhouette framed against the flickering flames, tilted his head while hammering as he caught sight of John stepping forward.

"Hope you're ready for a bit of history, Gren. We've brought back something that's either going to make us legends or the most cursed fools this side of the kingdom." John pulled out Alex’s satchel, and a dagger of flaming ice sprouted into existence, falling to the ground among several items of a similar magical nature. Soon a small hoard lay between them.

Grenthar grunted, setting aside his work to appraise the mysterious artifact. Alex unwrapped his crystal energy stealing blade, its bright blue hue a beacon against even the blazing interior of the forge.

The blacksmith's eyes narrowed as skeptical curiosity, surprise, a mix of recognition and apprehension sweeped across his rugged features before settling into a facade of stoic indifference. He reached out slowly, as if fearing the ancient power his skills told him were buried in pieces among the pile.

"Careful," John said, "wouldn't want to turn the forge into a historical site before we've even had breakfast."

Despite the tension, a gruff chuckle escaped Grenthar. He parted the pile and picked at a weapon adorned in sharp rubies. Grenthar leaned in, steeling himself to examine the blade more closely, his experienced eyes taking in every detail. He spoke with gruffness that laced every word. "Let's see if your treasure’s worth the trouble,"