Mage's Cultivation Journey 2

I paused for a moment, waiting for his verdict. 

“There’s no need to fear, little rat,” he spoke, his accent weird enough to suggest he learned the language not too long ago … or simply didn’t bother correcting it. His insult, I took as good news. “You just need to show me the way, and I swear on my … path that I won’t kill you.” 

“Thank you, master,” I said, relief flooding my face. Naturally, it was fake relief. I had no doubt that the moment I turned useless, he would cut me down. But, as an orphan mage who grew up in an academy filled with cutthroat politics and cruel entitled brats — teachers and students alike — I turned into an excellent liar; not only controlling my facial expression but also the reaction of my body. 

The burst of disdain on his face gave me the hope that my lie had been successful. Good, as despite his injured state, I could feel that I had no hope of hurting him. I didn’t need to sense any mana from him to know that. 

“You don’t need to fear, little mage. As long as you lead me to my destination, I will let you go,” he promised. 

“R-really?” I responded, wearing a hopeful, pathetic expression like I actually believed him. 

“I promise. On my honor as a … Human Immortal,” he responded. He had a slight pause at the last two words, likely searching for a translation. A part of my mind that wasn’t frozen by the immediate mortal danger wondered whether he was delusional, or he was having trouble translating it properly. 

The pride radiating off him as he delivered those two words suggested the second, but if that was the case, it had to be a pretty recent development. 

“T-thank you, master,” I stammered, while planning to lead him to an ambush, in a way that would give me hope for survival. “Where do you want to go?” 

“Wait for a moment,” he said, then walked deeper into the warehouse, his path direct. He wasn’t searching for anything, but sensing it. Surprising, considering the nature of the floor, it was just a step above a garbage dump. 

When he returned, he had a cracked amulet in hand, made of a green stone, his fingers tight around it. It must have been extremely valuable. A treasure since he dared to sneak into a magical fortress to take it back. 

I could sense nothing from it. 

I had already heard they weren’t using mana like us, but I hadn’t guessed that I wouldn’t be able to sense even a hint of the energy they used. 

But, I had more important things to worry about. 

Like, how to survive. 

“Now, lead me to the … ventilation room.” I looked at him questioningly, this time my expression not a surprise. “The room that filters the energies of the newborn world out,” he explained. 

“The cleansing room?” I questioned. He nodded. A curious choice, but I was too focused on lying to him to ponder deeply about it.  

“W-would you prefer the fast path, or the hidden one,” I asked. A subtle test, to see just how much he feared the mages. As a supposed ordinary mage, he should believe that I was no threat to him, but whether the same applied to Mage Lords, I had no idea. 

I expected him to pick one option, so the sudden flash of anger on his face, the intensity enough to scare me. It looked like I had committed a grave mistake, but I had no idea what it was. Soon, I learned. “Are you calling me a coward!” he growled, some kind of pressure radiating off him, promising death.

Perfect. I somehow managed to insult him.  

There was no need to fake the fear I was feeling. I realized his problem. He didn’t like the idea of hiding from the enemy, yet he was aware of the need. So, he actually needed to hide, but he didn’t want to admit it. 

I needed to take ‘responsibility’ for my mistake. “I apologize, esteemed master. As a lowly mage, I’m afraid I can’t survive a fight and fail my mission, so I offered to bring you through a hidden path.” 

Watching his anger recede confirmed my guess. I decided to treat him like one of the ancient, pointlessly prideful academy deans, only with his pointless pride about his combat abilities rather than his research achievements. 

“Fine. This immortal allows it,” he responded, his expression back to neutral like he was doing me a favor. If my life wasn’t in danger, I would have found the similarities between him and a Mage Lord very entertaining. 

I led him to a maintenance hatch. A quick rune I drew in the air removed the protective ward, allowing me inside. I wasn’t supposed to have access to maintenance paths, but I had stolen access spells before. 

I walked, and he followed. He seemed to be disgusted by the idea of chatting with me, which I was happy with. In any other situation, I would have preferred to talk, hoping to find an angle, but this time, I was afraid that one wrong word from me would spell a premature end. 

His pride was too fragile to risk it. 

It allowed me to think about exactly why he wanted to go to a cleansing room, which was room to gather the wild, unformed planar energies that managed to pass through the outer wards and let them out. It wouldn’t be sabotage, as while they were vital to the fortress, their numbers were too great for sabotage to be meaningful. And, there were better ways to escape. 

The answer popped into my mind soon after, wondering whether I was losing my edge. He wanted the wild planar energy. The whole point of the war with them was to take over the plane convert the wild planar energy into mana, and turn the plane into another wizard colony. Whatever he used to enter the fortress clearly exhausted him, and he needed the wild energies of the newborn plane to replenish himself.

That ability was surprising. Mages couldn’t do that. Not without assistance, which was why the fortress was filtering it and pushing it out.    

Technically, the fortress had the capability to convert it, but not without using some expensive treasures as a medium. It was easier to flush them out and use the mana core of the fortress, which could last for months. But, there were some methods in place in case of an emergency. 

And, if we could achieve it, so could the people we were fighting to get the same energy. 

That gave me an opening.  

His bloodied state was already proof of his state, but his choice of destination suggested that his reserves might be more depleted than I suspected. 

That, or they had no ability to their mana-equivalent into their bodies, which would mean he might be even weaker than he was letting on. It might give me a chance to operate, but a wrong move could kill me. First, I needed to test it. That opportunity arrived soon, when we hit a dark portion of the corridor.  

“Master, I need to create a light,” I said. “May I use a spell to create a light, master?” 

“Can’t you see in the dark?” he asked. 

“N-not without a spell, master,” I responded, doing my best to sell it. I reach my core and pull the necessary mana, but before I start shaping it, I let it touch one of the side walls, touching a pipe that was carrying concentrated mana. It was subtle enough to pass for a mistake, but it should have been alarming for a warrior. 

But, the moment I started forming it into a light ball, even before it had any physical display, he reacted. 

That was one piece of evidence of his inability to feel mana unless it was activated to a spell. It was a guess, and not a particularly robust one, but in my situation, I didn’t have the luxury of certainty before acting. 

I only had one chance. 

On the way, I slowly let more and more mana out of my core, spreading around like a cloud while keeping it only vaguely shaped. Against a mage, even an apprentice, such a tactic would be suicide. The more mana I had under my control, the harder for me to react to any unexpected changes. But, it allowed me to prepare for a big spell. 

My only chance. 

Come on Erin, I thought to myself while I decided on a strategy. I had one chance, and I would use that to deliver a devastating killing blow, a complicated blow that was more fitting for a siege than combat. 

I started releasing the mana, forcing them into the runic shapes, but not activating it. That trick would never work against a mage but against him… Maybe… 

I walked forward, careful to check him on every reflexive surface without making him realize. His overconfidence was my other advantage, that was much clearer. Things would have been far more difficult if he bothered to take even the simplest precaution. 

A minute later, just as I arrived at the cleansing room, he closed his eyes, and I felt the energies in the room stir. He was at his weakest, which wouldn’t be the case once he started replenishing his reserves. 

Immediately, I converted all the mana I gathered into a pure arcane explosion, targeting not only him, but the corridor he was in. The spell appeared in an instant, the explosion demolishing the whole corridor, triggering alarms all across the fortress. 

Yet, it wasn’t enough. Before the explosion could hit him, his body shifted, pulling his sword with a speed that felt instant, cutting the explosion into two. He wasn’t unscathed, but his injuries were far from debilitating. 

“You dare!” he declared as he took a step, the distance between us disappeared into nothingness. Panicked, I did the only thing I could. I reached the arcane core of the ship, channeling the raw mana into a shield, which blocked his blow. 

Barely. 

He swung his sword again and again, the full might of the shield barely able to keep him away. He stopped his attack, and instead, pulled some kind of paper slipcovered with an unfamiliar set of writing, slowly glowing. I might not feel his energies, but I could feel the space flickering in response to the slip. 

He was escaping. 

I could have escaped after his surrender. However, there was one problem. I was still connected with the arcane core, and that mana filled the room … reacting to the gap in space. He disappeared. I felt a tugging. 

Then, darkness.