Chapter 68. Weaponized End (Patreon)

Euryphel adjusted his hair ornament and walked toward Ian’s sullen form.

“That’s ridiculous,” the decemancer said quietly, his posture terse, arms folded across his chest. “You think we’ll lose to the Eldemari? She’s an End practitioner; End isn’t an affinity known for combat.”

Euryphel sighed. “You really think End isn’t useful in war? It’s not a question of winning with the Eldemari, Ian, but of what you’re willing to lose for victory.”

“I don’t follow.”

Euryphel arrived at the decemancer’s side, following his gaze over the grounds of Ichormai and the Bay of Ramsay. “The Eldemari is a monarch’s nightmare because she’ll sooner destroy your kingdom than yourself. Take, for example, the rebel uprising in northern Vermut twenty-five years ago. The Eldemari was younger then, and relatively untested.”

“I don’t know anything about the uprising,” Ian murmured.

“She created a reciprocal binding between her soldiers and civilians throughout Vermut,” Euryphel said, chuckling humorlessly. “For every soldier injured or killed, a civilian would face the same fate. You can imagine that the rebel cause quickly lost all momentum.”

“How could she do something like that?” Ian asked, finally turning toward Euryphel once more. “She’d need to be close to both those civilians in Vermut and her soldiers to cast the binding, right?”

Euryphel shook his head. “Not necessarily...not if she could pick out the fate threads of everyone in her kingdom.”

“...Can she?” Ian asked.

Euryphel shrugged. “It sure seems like it. I’d bet she has some kind of array system set up to help her focus, region by region.”

“That’s within Selejo,” Ian said. “But what about the SPU? Surely she can’t just bind the SPU’s civilians to the lives of her soldiers, can she?”

“You’re right,” Euryphel replied. “She can’t, at least not without physically coming here. But if she were to go on the warpath, any conquered city she could use against us, binding the lives of the citizens therein. If she gains even a single foothold, she’ll be a nightmare to deal with.”

“Then we just won’t let her leave Selejo,” Ian declared. “Sounds easy enough, since we decided to go on the offensive anyway. If we strike first and strike decisively...”

“Sure, think that way,” Euryphel said cheerfully. “Just remember that any soldiers you take into Selejo...are in Selejo. Including ourselves. Just as I know what happens in Ichormai, the Eldemari knows everything that goes on in her own territory. I know that Ezenti tried to sell you on the idea of a sneak attack, a quiet assassination, but it was never going to be so simple.”

“She sounds more formidable than I originally thought,” Ian muttered. “But going back to what you said earlier...how will being more powerful change the odds? What will a few points of End affinity mean against the Eldemari and her coterie of practitioners?”

Euryphel also recognized the seeming futility of his efforts: the Eldemari was a ninety-ninth percentile End affinity specialist. He had a small chance of breaking 90% in his End affinity if he pushed himself every day in the next few months. While his Regret affinity was over 96%, it wouldn’t be much help against his aunt’s tactics.

“It’s not so much about raw affinity, but techniques,” Euryphel replied, tilting his head. “For instance, from this session alone, I have a feeling that I’m coming up on the edge of something that might be useful: A way to use someone’s own energy and powers against them, reflecting them like a mirror. If I can get it to work on you, I might be able to use it against her.”

Euryphel took a few steps back. “Here, try to hold my arm in place.”

A moment later, the prince felt his arm secured by Ian’s power. Euryphel flinched back at the subtle touch of the decemancer’s energy. Ian seemed to notice his reaction, his lips tightening, but the decemancer didn’t say anything.

Euryphel focused and let himself sink into disembodiment, splitting his awareness. It was more difficult outside of the enlightened state, but the prince was determined to show Ian the fruits of his efforts. It’s not for nothing that I utilize rather extreme methods.

At once, Euryphel felt something click into place; the incorporeal hand of his End avatar moved, reaching toward its own equally immaterial neck.

Ian’s arm rose toward his neck; the motion seemed natural, intentional. Euryphel almost doubted that the movement resulted from his efforts.

Meanwhile, Ian whipped his hand back to his side, giving the prince a piercing look. “What was that?”

Euryphel repeated the gesture with his alter-self, chuckling as Ian’s arm once more moved toward his own neck.

When Ian recoiled and dropped his control over Euryphel’s arm, the prince felt his tenuous connection to the decemancer sever.

So, the prince mused, this technique can only be used defensively. Even so, it’s nothing to disregard. If the Eldemari tried to ensnare him from afar, he’d be able to give her a surprise.

“You developed this technique just now?” Ian asked, standoffish.

“Yes.”

The decemancer shook his head. “How?”

Euryphel flashed him a smile. “Working through the pain, Ian. It’s an excellent stimulus.”

“And what is this technique, exactly?”

The prince hummed contemplatively. “I think I’ll call it, ‘mirror energy’. I use your hostile energy as the bridge, then force your body to mirror my movements.”

“But you never reached for your neck,” Ian observed. “You didn’t move at all.”

“It’s–” he began, then stopped, frowning. “It’s hard to explain since you aren’t an End practitioner. When I form oaths–or break them, like I did with your mother–I do so as a self that isn’t myself–an alter-self, an End avatar. Usually, my two selves are transposed one on top of the other, but for this technique, I force my End avatar to move on its own.” Euryphel grinned. “I didn’t even realize I could so-fully separate the two bodies before now. Definitely wouldn’t have realized it without your assistance.”

Euryphel suddenly froze, his mind considering a possible explanation for the Eldemari’s near-omnipotence in Selejo. Perhaps she’s found a way not just to separate her body from her End Avatar–Euryphel had no doubt that if he’d only just figured out how to do so, she’d figured it out years ago–but how to split her End avatar. If so, it would explain how she could utilize her End affinity throughout Selejo without leaving the earthen corridors of the Cuna.

The main weakness of such a technique would be that each piece of her End avatar would be weaker than the whole. Thus, even if Euryphel was working at a sizable affinity disadvantage...if he could breach the 90% barrier on his End affinity, he might stand a chance at quietly evading the notice of her decentralized avatars. If so, he and Ian could, possibly, pull off a quiet assassination.

Maybe. But first, Euryphel would need to worry about improving by over 6% affinity as soon as possible. It was extremely ambitious, but unlike the first time he rapidly improved his affinity, he wasn’t alone. Moreover, he had years of experience on his side: Even though he hadn’t advanced much in the past years, he’d been solidifying a strong foundation.

Euryphel heard Ian cough politely.

“So, we’ve been training for all of maybe ten minutes, if you include our conversation,” Ian pointed out. “Though I know you’ve technically been at it for far longer. I presume we should keep on going?”

“I have us slotted for a solid hour of practice.”

Ian nodded. “Fine. So, what will you have me do this time?”

The prince grinned sheepishly and stretched his back. “Can you do the same thing as before?”

Ian’s mouth quirked into a grudging smile. “A minute ago, I would’ve said no. But your little display has changed my mind. Do take note that as soon as you stop making progress, I’ll cut you off.”

“Noted. Hopefully that won’t happen for a while.”

“We’ll see.”

—

By the end of the hour, Euryphel had worked out an optimal strategy for forcing Ian to give up control over his limbs. Specifically, it involved forcing the decemancer to try poking out his own eyes.

Ian had to admit, feeling your hands moving as though controlled by reflex, fingers jabbing toward delicate sockets, was heart-stopping. He resolved to personally pat whosoever could avoid flinching on the back, if such a person existed.

Calling their practice session to an end, they walked back to the palace proper. Strolling leisurely across the grounds, Ian remarked, “If I were the Eldemari and my fingers suddenly dove for my eyes without any warning, I’d definitely panic.”

Euryphel cocked an eyebrow. “But if you wanted, you could’ve killed me before I ever had the chance to use the technique.”

“That’s fair, but most people aren’t me,” Ian chuckled.

“I’d say it’s probably useful against Life, Death, Remorse, and End practitioners, and useless against everything else,” the prince speculated. “Those are the affinities that rely on sustained energy connections.”

Ian nodded. An elementalist, for instance, would be completely unaffected: They didn’t affect people directly, but rather used their energy to shape the elements.

“When’s the last time you checked your End affinity, prince?” Ian asked as they walked up to one of the palace’s back entrances.

“Around a year ago,” Euryphel replied. “So I should probably check now, so we have a good baseline on which to track my improvement.”

“Sure; it’s useful to have the precise affinity percentage. It’d be good to know how close you are to 84%.”

They proceeded to the hall with the blue-tile ceiling. Euryphel faced toward the door to the bath, then paused. The training hadn't been particularly sweat-inducing, so neither of them really needed to bathe.

The prince turned around and chuckled. "I suppose we can retire to the parlor." He then walked back to the door they'd just came from and opened it, gesturing for Ian to enter first. Ian obliged, stepping through the threshold and swiftly taking a seat in what was fast becoming his designated arm chair.

Euryphel lazily reclined one one of the room's divans, smiling contentedly. 

"You seem pretty happy," Ian observed. 

The prince hummed his assent. "It's always nice to come up with a useful new ability. Definitely doesn't hurt my bruised ego."

Ian snorted and aimlessly stroked the finely-upholstered arm of the chair. "Bruised?" 

"How could it not be?" Euryphel sighed. "I'm feeling rather useless. My primary affinity is of no use for dealing with the Eldemari or any long-term strategy, unfortunately."

"Not if you ever come face to face with her."

"But I won't need to come face to face with her. Moreover, the gap between us is too large, and unlike with O'osta, I won't be able to practice fighting her in advance. In short, she'll kill me."

"...Practice fighting in advance?"

Euryphel nodded his head. "You know, enter a scenario, attack O'osta when he enters the room, repeat, and recurse to practice particular attacks and maneuvers. Very easily accomplished when all the princes assemble for a meeting."

"Uh-huh." Ian gave Euryphel a dubious look. "Regardless, you should be proud of your abilities, Eury. When you push yourself, I doubt anyone in the West is your match in single combat."

"That's the issue though, isn't it? I'm a prime, not a duelist. I'm supposed to win wars, not...fights.”

"And that's why you have advisers, generals, and the Council of Princes. You aren't meant to win wars alone."

Euryphel groaned and shifted his position. "Why couldn't I have a Beginning affinity?" he muttered before turning towards Ian. "Did you know the highest Beginning affinity under our control is 90.5%?

Ian shook his head. "I wasn’t aware. That doesn't sound very high."

The prince rolled his eyes. "It's certainly high, but it's not high enough. If I had 96% Beginning affinity..."

"If you weren't a Regret practitioner, you wouldn't be Crowned Prime," Ian pointed out.

"True," Euryphel murmured wistfully after pondering for a few seconds.

"You don't think I had moments when I wished for a different affinity?" Ian added. "We have to work with what we've got."

Euryphel smirked. “I suppose I’ll make do with End and Regret.”

Ian sighed and shook his head. “In the end, it’s a truly regretful combination.”

The prince chuckled and made a punching gesture. Suddenly, his gaze sharpened. “Ian, you’re attending the Fassari summit, but I don’t think I ever explained what you’d be doing there specifically.”

“I assume I’ll be dueling?”

Euryphel nodded. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, but in short, yes. We focused on my training tonight, but tomorrow we'll focus on yours. Specifically, making sure you don't accidentally implicate yourself as a fledgling ascendant when you fight."

"That seems reasonable," Ian murmured.

The prince cocked an eyebrow, then tilted his head toward the kitchen. "Before I start the explanation...more whiskey?"