Chapter 86, 1/2

Chapter 86, 1/2

In a comfortable room with fluffy chairs and a short table, situated atop the northern tower of the Mage Guild, Anhelia laid out tea for Erick and herself in dainty porcelain cups, etched with purple flowers. Poi waited outside, while Kiri and Teressa were still downstairs, in the war rooms.

Erick said, “Thank you,” as he sipped his tea. It was good, but it was not the plum tea he was used to. It was something else. Something red, that tasted of spices. “This is good. What is it?”

“Spiced ripponfruit.” Anhelia sat down across from Erick and lifted her her cup, saying, “It’s been quite a while since we last spoke of killing Shades, on the veranda at your potato party. You haven’t changed your mind on what needs to be done, have you?”

Right to it, then. Erick sipped his tea, then said, “They deserve to die for what they have done, and what they would do in the future.”

“Good. Many will forget that fact when the war is about to end, and the atrocities have piled high.” Anhelia asked, “Where would you like to start?”

“A bit of history regarding how these things usually go, to give context to what is happening today, and then I’d like to know how to kill a Shade.”

Anhelia nodded. “That is a winding conversation, so let me know when you have a question.” She said, “I’ve gone through this event twenty-three times. A few of these were instant wars. Monsters streaming out through the walls of the Dead City, setting up bases outside, them allowing Spur to be a beachhead against the tide. That sort of thing. Sometimes they burn Spur to the ground first, but they usually avoid killing people who run.” She said, “This avoiding of the innocents is thought to be a way to make future enemies, so don’t go thinking it’s out of honor.

“Other Shade excursions were widespread assassinations throughout the world, causing widespread trouble. All of them ended the same way: Civilization came together to physically destroy the threat. There were variations, of course. A few times, our own assassins were required to kill the masterminds behind the attacks.

“But in the end, there are always two or ten Shades that are spearheading the effort to conquer the world, and other Shades are willing to take their place as the top monster of the Dead City.

“Usually, we get ‘help’ from these other, opportunistic Shades, who want to kill the Shades in charge of their excursions. This has always happened, to some degree, at some point in time.

“The Great Purge that took out Spur 104 years ago was the only time that every Shade managed to band together and decide, as a whole, to fight. When Spur was destroyed, the centering idea that held the Shades to a single goal, was shattered. They fell to infighting almost instantly.

“This is why we don’t go after Ar’Kendrithyst, directly, at all. For doing so would cause them to band together and end Spur again. But really, they’d band together and end any threat they deem worthy enough to end.” She asked, “Is that anything you didn’t already know?”

Erick said, “I’ve heard some of what you just said, but not quite like that. Continue, please.”

Anhelia continued, “Right now, and verified through all of my sources, the entire Dead City is working together to make Candlepoint succeed. This is mostly normal, and likely a facade of some sort. They’ll splinter in time if they aren’t already splintered. The existence they’ve focused on this time is different, for sure, but this level of cooperation is not too surprising.

“In a slightly abnormal way: they’re not going directly to war. This has happened roughly five to eight times in the past.

“They’re tempting mortals into allying with them. This is completely normal, though the method this time is rather unique.

“What is very rare, and has only happened once before, is, firstly, that they are creating shadelings that truly appear to be their own persons. This will undoubtedly lead to complications down the road. Are they making generals for a future army? Perhaps. Usually they summon mindless generals, outfitted with all the knowledge that several Shades possess, and send them out to conquer. But they could do shadelings this time, each with their own levels and Status under the Script.

“No. I don’t know how it’s happening, only that it is. Shades don’t have access to the Script, but these shadelings do. It is odd. But it has happened before.

“One thing to keep in mind is that these shadelings are not slaves. The Script brands people with the Slave sub-Class rather quickly, if they are, and then allows them [Teleport]s away from their slavers, or to get a massive damage bonus against their slavers.

“I mention the slave-[Teleport]-thing because that specific event has happened before. And then those shadelings turned out to be malicious actors, and assassins.

“So don’t ever trust a shadeling, Erick. No matter what they may look like or how they might speak. Even if they are real people, and not just masks worn by the Shades who made them, they’re people who want you dead. Or worse: a traitor to the rest of the world.”

Erik sipped his tea, listening, realizing, in some way deeper than before, that war was truly coming, and he’d have to kill people. Monstrous people, sure, but still people.

Anhelia continued, “The other thing that is rather different, but not unheard of, is that Candlepoint’s items are real. Mostly, there are zero side effects.”

Erick frowned. “The sign down there says that opening two new Stats makes a person a shadeling.”

Anhelia said, “That’s not the whole truth. Yesterday, one person survived the transformation and came back to being orcol; a member of the unincorporated Treehome tribes, to the west of Wyrmridge mountains. With the backing of his whole family of wyrm hunters and a reluctant Archmage Syllea, he had enough money to get 2000 darkchips. He then picked Constitution, first, then Dexterity. Others tried to follow in his footsteps and failed. They were turned into shadelings almost instantly. Or, at least that’s what their Status said.

“They had no rad in their body. They had no urge to do the bidding of any Shade, or anything else that normal shadelings do. They still had normal access to the Script. But they were no longer listed as ‘orcol’; they were listed as ‘shadeling’.

“A Registrar was asked to intervene, and that’s the extent of my knowledge on that front.” Anhelia said, “Archmage Syllea sent the missive containing this information to myself, and several others, in the hopes that I could find a cure. Incidentally, this is also how we know that opening two Stats makes a person a shadeling. I have told others these facts and asked for help, but no one seems to know anything right now. If you wish to pursue this, Archmage Syllea has already promised personal lessons or a vast sum of money to whoever solves the problem.” She added, “I have heard that she owes you a bargain of trade, too, which is another reason I mention this. I do need more information on this, Erick, and you’re in a perfect position to get it for us, if you’re willing.”

“Maybe.” Erick said, “But... So one new Stat does nothing? Besides what it says it does?”

“According to the Registrars. They’re not sure how the new Stats fruits are made or why they turn people into shadelings, only that the fruits exist, they work exactly as they are said to work, and that too many of them turns a person into a shadeling.” Anhelia said, “New races of people pop up from time to time. Usually, through the inventions of summoners. Usually, they don’t last past two or three generations. Maybe these people aren’t actually the shadelings that we know, but are instead a creation of a Shade. Or someone like the Life Binder. It is entirely possible that these ‘shadelings’ are not the ones we know of; that they are just named the same thing in order to cause confusion.” She added, “But that is a low possibility.”

Erick frowned. “Why are people willing to take the chance with Shade magical items?” He instantly answered himself, “Some people are just like that. Obviously. The need for power, and all that.”

“That is a part of it, yes.” Anhelia continued, “Terrible magic items have come out of Ar’Kendrithyst before. Usually the catch is obvious, but that doesn’t stop people from wanting them. This is one of the main reasons why people flock to Ar’Kendrithyst, in the first place. Usually, whatever they find are simple trinkets that are used and then vanish, like Staffs of [Lightning Bolt], or plus-100 Strength belts. One time, someone actually managed to find a Crown of [Meteor Swarm]. I think they went on to fund themselves a title of nobility, over in the Wasteland, long, long ago.

“These items are created to lure adventurers to the Dead City, to give the Shades their ‘entertainment’.

“But just as often, people who find these items are found much later, roaming the kendrithyst, transformed into a monster with the cursed item in hand, or on their head, or what have you.

“But in some cases, the items are very real, with zero side effects.” Anhelia added, “For if the place was pure poison, no one would go, and that is a fact proven time and time again.

“There was one item, years and years ago, known as the Staff of Swords. It allowed the user the ability to effortlessly cast the spell ‘Sword Tide’ by providing the item with mana. Every single stone and metal surface for a hundred meters became slicing swords, for one brief moment, except where the user stood. There were quite a few lesser effects, but that was the main one.

“The Staff of Swords was an artifact, Erick.

“Of the many true artifacts to ever exist on Veird, the Shades have made nine out of every ten.”

“That Staff of Swords came out of Ar’Kendrithyst when a war on Nelboor spilled across the ocean, into the Greensoil Duchy— Oh. That was the Republic four hundred years ago. Anyway. The Duchy was occupied with their war and all of their up-and-coming adventurers had been killed in several massive battles, and for a very long and complicated reason that was mainly the fault of army quotas, the Shades got antsy without their entertainment, and the Staff of Swords found its way to the hands of a soldier in the Greensoil Army. It turned the tide in their war, at the time. And then it fell into the hands of another.

“Thousands of people died on hundreds of battlefields, for the Staff of Swords turned almost any middling mage into an archmage. The Staff of Swords is either somewhere in Nelboor, still causing havoc, or laying in some crypt somewhere; I know nothing more about that.

“The point is that the Shades make awful items that instantly kill people and turn them into monsters, and they also make items that cause utter chaos.Ñ00v€l--ß1n hosted the premiere release of this chapter.

“Candlepoint appears to be the second case. They’re real items. They have some unknown drawback that even Registrars can’t tell is a drawback. We don’t know much beyond that.” She sipped her tea.

Erick asked, “So how do you kill a Shade?”

Anhelia nodded. She said, “Shades are constantly surrounded by shadows and under the effects of [Shadowalk] that costs them nothing to use. This means that you must either overpower them with light to turn them solid and then kill them, somehow lure them into an antirhine trap, or fight them on their own turf and win. The first is easier said than done. The second has happened a handful of times, and never on purpose, but the Shades experiment with everything, and there is a fair bit of antirhine in there, so, it happens. The third is by far the most usual method.

“A combination of 1 and 3 is the best way. Have attacks that combine light, but strike from the shadows.”

Erick asked, “Can they [Cleanse]?”

“Oh?” Anhelia paused, then asked, “What were you thinking? Poison? Or...?”

“Poison.”

“It will work, but not well. [Cleanse] is a very special spell, given to us by the gods, so the Shades don’t have access, but they have other ways to do the same thing. But besides that, their shadowy bodies prevent them from being poisoned; they don’t have actual biology. Parasites, though. Those will give them some trouble, but not enough to count in a fight.” She added, “Maybe if you had some light-infused parasites, they might be able to burrow into the Shades and stop them from [Shadowalk]ing away. That is worth investigating; it hasn’t been done in a long time, so they wouldn’t expect it. Shadowflesh is easy enough to come by, but you would need shadowflesh from a Shade, and that would be much more difficult.”

Erick let that go, for now. He’d invent his theoretical gamma ray cloudkill spell, anyway, because it’d be useful in other ways. He asked, “What does a fight look like between a Shade, and say, Killzone?”

“Usually, Killzone just slaps the misbehaving Shade around while they try to fight back, but can’t, and the other Shades look on, laughing.” Anhelia added, “By ‘slapping’ I mean punching hard enough to have the offending Shade fly through a ten-meter wide kendrithyst tower. There’s also the slapping away of any magic used against him, and him using his arms like dull swords, that somehow still manage to cut. Also, constant battlefield movement. He perfected his [Shadowalk] long, long ago. I still remember when he was a young kid, fresh from the Geodes, but even then, he was a prodigy.

“You can’t hope to fight like him, and more than two Shades will still put Killzone on the back foot.”

Erick asked, “How about Extreme Light?”

Anhelia asked, “You mean like how Toxic Hydras destroy magic?”

That wasn’t what Erick meant, but that was a good question, too. He said, “Yes.”

“A variation of using antirhine. It works, but not well.” Anhelia frowned. “But you meant something else, don’t you?”

“Poisonous light.” Erick said, “Like the blacklight I gave to you, but on a much larger scale. Imbuing Decay into Light. That sort of thing.”

Anhelia shook her head, then paused. “... Maybe. I’m sure you could try with some... Mana Altering for Decay on an Aurify’d [Force Bomb]... With Alterings for Light damage? Maybe.” She continued, “But you have time to work on your magic. The largest point of failure in your assistance with this war, is your high profile.” Anhelia said, “I hate to say it, Erick, but you live in a very exposed and exploitable location.”

“... I’m not becoming a hermit.” Erick said, “That seems rather foolish, especially now.”

Anhelia smiled. “Yes. It would be rather foolish. But you must know your weaknesses going forward, for they will be used against you. But by the same turn, your unwillingness to be a hermit is a great boon. You have the ability to easily gather allies, since you have already worked with people who would seem your racial enemy.” She added, “I must say, the Magisterium was rather happy with your work, according to my sources.” She said, “Now, you just have to do that for everyone in the world, picking up pledges of service, and the rest of this will go rather smoothly, up until the end.”

Erick felt his stomach drop. He didn’t want to, but he asked, “What does the end of this conflict look like?”

Anhelia said, “Whatever happens going forward, the groundwork must be laid now, for once we do push them back to the Dead City, the rest of the world will decide that is enough. It has happened before, and it will happen again. I have failed 22 times in pushing farther forward. I’ve had archmages back out on me. I’ve had smaller nations back out on me. Outpost always helps, but they always back out, too. And in the interest of full disclosure, when archmages step into the fight, they are always targeted by the Shades.

“In the interest of further disclosure, Melemizargo constantly spies on anyone who works magic well, and this certainly includes every archmage. He will know your weaknesses, and the Shades will exploit your weaknesses.” Anhelia’s dark metal eyes seemed to hold great pain, as she said, “He will certainly know of you, and everything that gives you the will to live.”

“Yeah. I... I got that part.”

“This is what it comes down to:” Anhelia spoke from hard hitting experience, “In the war, at the end, there will be a moment, where the world could turn back, leaving the Shades to their Dead City, or face forward and end the threat. One of the Shades might offer a truce, and it will be real. A different Shade might reach up and murder those behind this recent expansion, and then ask for a truce. This, too, will be real. This is how a war with the Shades usually ends. This ending has taken a dozen different forms in these last eight centuries I have been a part of Spur, and each time, the world flinches. They are offered peace, and they accept. They feel they have done enough. So the war ends. Nations retreat to their corners, and the Shades are left to themselves, to lick their wounds and try again next time.

“But it won’t end that way, this time. You and I, Erick, we know the evil of the Shades. The other archmages of Spur are Silverite’s creatures, and they are complacent defenders. But this is not who you are. You and I know what must be done, so we cannot let the war end there.

“And this is what you can do:

“There will be a moment, after the archmages are finally loosed to join the fight against Ar’Kendrithyst, when half of them are dead and the nations rally, when the Crystal Forest is a smoldering crater and maybe Spur is destroyed, or maybe not, and everyone is scattered to the wind and all of our collective intent is aimed at destroying the Shades, something will happen. The exact nature changes each time, but each time it is the same: the Shades will threaten mutual destruction. They will not be lying. They only speak the horrible truth. It is in this moment that you must flood that city with every single high ranking spell you have.

“It must be a bloodbath. Annihilation to a degree never before seen.

“And with that action, the surviving Shades will band together and attack, and civilization will be forced to do the same.

“The beast will appear. Melemizargo will come.

“There will be another window; another chance at peace. Gods will involve themselves. Peace will be attempted by the weak hearted, but peace must be cast aside.

“Because I won’t let it end there,” Anhelia spoke with a depth to her voice, “Because this time I am going to do what needs to be done, far ahead of that fated day.” Anhelia’s fire retreated, as she said, “But you needn’t worry about that part.”

Erick got the distinct feeling that if he knew what Anhelia planned to do, that he would disapprove. So he did not ask her to elaborate. The mood was too heavy, and Anhelia’s cold anger was too serious.

Fork continued, “I don’t have access to the Quest for [Gate], as I have said before. I will get this information into your hands as soon as I can, but even as the master of a Guildhouse this will still take me a week. There’s bureaucracy to check off, you understand. This knowledge is not just lying around anywhere for anyone to look at, and because of that bureaucracy, the paperwork is also not complete. The lawyer should be done with it in a few hours, so I will ask her to hurry up, if that is alright with you. I can have it dropped off at your house, if you wish.”

Erick said, “I need to get a lawyer, too, so I’m not really ready for the paperwork, either. But if you trust me, then I’ll trust you, and we can start working on the theory right now. Or maybe just an overview.”

Fork thought for a moment. He said, “Okay. Here’s most of my understanding of the non-divine [Gate].” He continued, “[Gate] is the decrease of distance between point A and B, without interfering with the space between those two points, such that anyone can travel through this clipped space. The activation of the spell is between 500 and 2500 mana, with a Variable component of between 100 and 1000 mana per 1000 kilometers between [Gate]s. It has a ‘well’ of power that is used up as people or objects travel through the [Gate]. Air travels through the [Gate], so a large differential in altitude means natural air pressure will kill the spell early; I always thought that piece of information quite important, but I’m not sure. And finally: [Gate] is only usable between two locations that the user knows very well. It is a Basic Tier spell.” He added, “That’s all I know.”

“That’s more than I knew.” Erick asked, “The divine version is different, I assume?”

“Yes. Fundamentally.” Fork said, “Champion Yetta used [Gate] to get around, but she’s no mage, so I assume the cost was paid entirely by Atunir, bless the harvest.”

Erick almost said something, but his train of thought derailed with Fork’s casual prayer. Instead, he said, “I haven’t had much experience with the gods, but Yetta and Atunir did a lot of good work fighting the Daydropper, and Planter. You know, I tried to give them some enchanted—” He paused. He said, “They took a lot of my enchanted gear with them into the Dead City, courtesy of the Army, but when I tried to give them more afterward, they had to break it to keep their contracts with Portal and Caradogh.”

Fork smiled sadly. “That was a nasty business, all around. I was sorry to see the Farms go. It was nice to visit an actual temple to Atunir without needing to travel to another city.” He said, “The Interfaith Church is acceptable, but not where I go.”

That reminded Erick. He needed to send a care package to Yetta.

And to Jane, too!

Erick asked, “So the rest of your understanding of [Gate] will come when the paperwork is finalized?”

“Yes.” Fork added, “It would be better that way, if you don’t mind. I’ve already broken ranks with the Guild for telling you as much as I have, but time will prove my decisions as correct.”

Erick said, “There’s no need to send the paperwork to my house. Just tell me when you get clearance for the actual [Gate] information, and then we can deal with the lawyers.”

Fork frowned a little, as he said, “That’s not what we agreed upon.”

“I understand. And we’re working well together. But if I have to deal with an organization to get information, I want to know that the information will be made available for me before I sign any binding paperwork.”

“The Wayfarer’s Guild would never do such an underhanded—”

“I wouldn’t think you would. But now you’re telling me that you’ve broken ranks with your guild to speak to me like this, and that is worrying. I’ve known many stories of people who sell the rights to something, thinking that it will get used for everyone, only for that information to get locked up in a vault and never seen again.” Erick added, “I wouldn’t want some higher-ups deciding that they don’t like the idea of a [Gate] network and them locking me in to giving them financial control, while they decide to not assist in the creation. I’m sure it would be rather legal for them to do so, too, and then what recourse do I have?”

Fork was frowning, but now he paled, his brown scales turning bronze. He said, “No one would want do that to you.”

“Very good.” Erick said, “So let’s continue when such an event is sure to not occur.”

- - - -

Over the next few days, Erick rained as needed, made rings, and prepared to make magic.

Fork had yet to get back to him with clearance for the Wayfarer’s [Gate] information, but a runner dropped the paperwork off, anyway. Erick read it over, and everything seemed aboveboard and easy to understand, but he still wasn’t going to sign it until he got his own lawyer to read it, and the Wayfarer’s Guild showed a willingness to help produce Gate.

Erick went to the Courthouse and spoke to some lawyers. Mostly, they seemed okay.

When he was in the middle of speaking to some incani who sweated as he read the paperwork, Silverite and Hera came into the room. Hera would be his lawyer, if he wished. The incani man just mumbled a ‘thank you’ before rushing away.

That was... fine? Probably? Yeah sure. That was fine. Erick liked yellowscale Hera. She had done right by him with the payments from the Farm and otherwise. This was good.

The paperwork turned out to be perfectly fine as a boilerplate for non disclosure agreements meant for future interactions. It even had an ‘out’ for Erick, if the Wayfarer’s Guild chose to sit on their [Gate] and never use it. So Erick signed the paperwork and sent it to Fork.

Fork was happy to take the paperwork and report that the ‘Remote Offices’ were excited, and their collected information on [Gate] should be arriving shortly.

Erick talked to Phagar twice, ensuring that his own ideas for Particle spells were sound, and yes, they were.

He even started to channel Mana and Health into the Ability Slot increase quest, when he wanted a break. It was not relaxing, in the slightest. He couldn’t simply pump his resources into the blue box, in 7400 Mana and 2000 Health increments. He had to forcefully channel his Regeneration into the blue box, and the blue box soaked up his resources like a man dying of thirst, who was already full of water. It was a task to force mana into this Quest; it was not fun.

At the end of his first hour, Erick was sweating. Somewhere in his second hour, he fell asleep; exhausted. After a short nap, he woke, and tried setting Ophiel to channeling Mana into the blue box, but that just didn’t work. Ophiel squawked, and Quest remained at 95,223/100,000,000.

He tried channeling Health only and then Mana only, just to see if that was easier, and it was. He even stepped outside of his house, outside of the Restful dense air, and channeled his normally regenerating resources into the Quest. This was still a task; it was not like flipping on an aura, at all. But it was easier than before.

But it would take soooo much longer.

Ability Slot Increase Quest!

10 Points

OR

95,257/100,000,000 Mana and/or Health

... Spending 10 points to just complete the Quest looked mighty attractive. He could not imagine doing this for... 1650 more hours, or whatever it was. It was somewhere around there. And that was the ‘at Rest’ number! The normal Quest time, without a Restful area, was 1,666 days! FULL DAYS! 24 hours of constant channeling!

But Erick had another way to gain points.

So he was maybe just going to do that.

- - - -

In the first of what would undoubtedly be a lot of experimental magic, Erick stood under the bright blue sky, on a floating platform, above a sandy nowhere in the Crystal Forest, and cast his protective spells. First, an Ophiel expended themselves to cast a [Prismatic Ward] over the platform. And then, with a twist of his hand and a thoroughly thought out intention, Erick surrounded himself, Poi, and Kiri, with a lightmask that cut out all light outside of the visible spectrum. The only hint that anything had changed, was that the sun seemed a little colder, and the sky a little darker.

A blue box popped up.

Lightmask, instant, close range, 50 mana

Deny all harmful light in an area.

Erick smiled at the box, saying, “Ha. It made a spell that time,” then dismissed it. He walked to the edge of the platform, to the edge of the lightmask —he wasn’t about to start calling it [Lightmask]— and put his hand just outside the space. He steadied himself, as he aimed at a stone tower a hundred yards away and twenty yards down. He had shaped that tower and a few others with another Ophiel, a little bit ago.

And then, it was time. He had prepared. He had secured himself. Erick emptied his mind of all outside thoughts, then filled himself with a goal.

He thought of the horrors he had seen, and the pain he had witnessed. Of mutated people rescued from Ar’Kendrithyst. Of Jane, sleeping off a curse laid down millennia ago that was created to chop down dragons. Of darkness overwhelming, and the need for a brighter future. Of where the world was, and how everything was cyclical, because no one could break the darkness. But there was still hope out there.

A candle held against the storm.

It was time to make that candle shine.

Erick called to the day, to the mana, to life itself, hoping to break what deserved breaking,

“A radiant sight to sunder the night, a time of stars brought down to fight!

“Power dances an endless turn as brilliance catches fire and yearns

“for radiant sights to sunder the night; a time of stars brought down to fight!

“A pearl set hard, a focus kept, a track laid down, and darkness wept: [Burn].”

Time seemed to stand still, as a tiny white dot formed in front of Erick’s outstretched hand.

That dot blossomed forward, becoming a line of white radiance, barely visible in the day, that swept forward. Where the light touched the stone towers, it carved and burned, lopping off tops and spilling the remnants into fire, as Erick dragged the spell across the ground, carving and burning and splashing droplets of lava at his discretion. His hand felt hot, but barely. The light had been trained forward. After a short forever, the spell ended, like a smokeless candle snuffed. Blackened lava cooled in its wake; a line of darkness drawn on a desert canvas.

Erick promptly fell on his ass as Poi tapped him with the rod of [Treat Wounds].

Kiri shouted, “What the FUCK was that!” She pointed, “Was that the Red Dot!?”

Erick chuckled as he got back to his feet. A few boxes appeared. There was the ‘congratulations for making a new Basic spell’, box, of course. And then there were the others.

Luminous Beam 1, instant, super long range, 500 mana

Conjure a coruscating, tightly controlled plume of severing light that deals and lasts for .

Particle Mage Only.

Rozeta thanks you for enriching the Script.

+3 ability points.

The name I picked is obviously wrong considering what the spell does, but I’m keeping it that way. ~Rozeta

Erick joked, “It wasn’t the Red Dot, because it was white, Kiri.”

Kiri nervously chuckled, as she looked on across the wake of the spell.

Erick added, “And it only lasted a second. Seemed a lot longer— Oh.” He looked at the spell box again. “Level 3 already, so it lasts 2 seconds. Pattern of one more second every other level, maybe? Still no Red Dot, though.” He asked Poi, “What magnitude was that?”

Poi instantly said, “Seven. Same as [Call Lightning].”

Erick smiled. It was nice when Poi could just answer the question. He asked, “What about the rest of my spells? Any of them been higher than seven?”

“No.”

Erick paused. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Then I got to keep going! Bigger, stronger, better!” He added, “But first! Those normal Script spells, just to see the difference.”