“Ultimately, using two opposing types of Astral Power allowed me to make them resonate, the two extreme points increasing the flux in a loop until an extreme peak is reached,” Mal explained, while I tried to put the concepts she explained into a mental model. Outside of Mundus, that was near impossible but I wanted to try and the capsule space was the next best thing.

Regardless, I could only shake my head in amazement at what she had managed. The images shared in the highlight reel were incredibly impressive, more so now that I had a bit of an explanation of how much power had been invested. Creating a massive effect with equivalent power expenditure was to be expected and the higher the efficiency, the greater the leverage, the more impressive the magical accomplishment.

What she had done with her magical explosives was something I would be hard-pressed to emulate, needing days to prepare and likely a whole bunch of human resources to sacrifice, despite having forty levels, the crossing of the second Divide and Lenore’s presence on her.

We had been discussing her accomplishment for the last hour, sitting on the terrace of my mountain temple. If there was one thing the capsule space was good at, it was facilitating meetings. Despite neither of us knowing the other in the real world, despite the distance between us on Mundus, we could sit together in a space of the host’s choice, with whatever resources and refreshments we liked. Even wearing whatever body, clothes and accoutrements we desired.

Looking at the sheet of ice I had used as a whiteboard to put together her methodology, I could only shake my head.

“I can see how it might fit together, now that it’s laid out this way,” I admitted, looking at the beaming Mal, “But kudos for putting it together in the first place and, most of all, for actually making it work. If I was wearing a hat, I’d tip it for you,” I added, a grin on my face.

“It was just an expansion on the experiments we had done prior,” she shrugged, looking embarrassed and smug at the same time, “The insights and materials you shared regarding Ice and Cold, allowed me to form one side of the resonance. My Gunpowder, with a few recent advances, was good enough to form the other side, representing Fire. Forming the necessary crystal patterns to begin the resonance was the most difficult, those had to be incredibly precise, or the energy would simply have been lost. No loop, no accumulation, no resonance, only a pile of shattered crystals.”

“But it worked. And while you got shattered crystals at the end, you also got a shattered mountain, a broken army and, most likely, a whole bunch of EXP.” I challenged her with a raised eyebrow, the earlier smugness now back in full force.

“Oh, I certainly got EXP for it. Apparently, the system recognised Gilo and me as independent actors outside the Prince’s army, giving us the glut of EXP from the whole ordeal. Getting twenty levels at a time was an incredible rush.” Others might have been disturbed by the grin on her face, especially considering that the event she was grinning about had been the destruction of a small army, the killing of hundreds of sapients, but I could only marvel at the accomplishment.

“I have experienced it at a lower level, nothing like what you managed there,” I acknowledged, getting a raised eyebrow in return.

“A den of Snowbolds, killing dozens of creatures, all either at or above your own level gives a lot of EXP.” I briefly explained, getting a nod of understanding in response. “But enough of that. Why don’t you tell me about ‘your Highness’?” I asked, curious about the halfling who had hired them.

“So you heard that?” she looked a little amused, “You could have warned us.” the chiding tone in her voice was quite gentle, making it obvious she wasn’t really serious.

“Anyway, turns out that he’s the heir to their Principality, but that there are different factions, both in their nobility and even in his family, all with their own agenda and all interested in either putting their own candidate on the throne or making sure that the one rising to the throne is indebted or dependant on them,” she explained, shaking her head, the earlier amusement now replaced with disgust.

“I thought we’d get access to some nice quests, maybe open up different factions on a higher level instead of having to slowly work our way into their good graces, so we’d get to the good stuff earlier, you know?” she asked, a bit of frustration in her voice.

“Well, we got the attention of a couple of factions, but not quite in the way I wanted to. People whispering promises of power, a couple even insinuated that Gilo might make a good consort for the Prince,” she complained, the frustration mixing with disgust. “After the Battle of the Broken Valley, things got only worse. I talked to Whisper a bit and she suggested that the impact of my actions had been reaching further than anyone thought.”

“I can see that,” I frowned, considering the possible scenarios, while a little wary about the enigmatic Whisper weighing in. Sure, it was far from her power base in northern Daiea, and just because of that, it called for additional vigilance. “The faction broken at the valley, it was a major one, wasn’t it? A serious contender for that throne you are fighting over?” when she nodded in reply, I continued, “And it was utterly crushed, forcing the other factions to either submit or rally together, to stand a chance. While also giving opponents of your Prince a cause, namely the lopsided massacre of the Broken Valley.” I shook my head, not envying her position. In some ways, it was a good one but at the same time, it was incredibly precarious.

“There are already people complaining about the number of deaths there, calling it a slaughter and claiming that the Prince is a merciless monster. Some even mentioned my name as the architect of the battle,” she added, filling in a bit more of the picture I was getting.

“Better be ready to get out of there, just in case you’re being made scapegoat,” I warned her and to my surprise, she was only chuckling at the warning.

“Whisper told me the same thing,” she smiled sadly, “Gilo and I are ready to leave at any time and have set up a few surprises, just in case. We should be fine,” she assured me, before shaking her head once more.

“But enough of that, what are you up to?” she changed the topic, her expression forcibly cheerful.

“Sailing, and let me be honest, it is boring, with capital B,” now it was my turn to complain, which I did with relish. If I could get more voices to complain about the sea-travel system, it might be changed and getting stuck in a small room, staring at the unchanging walls would be a thing of the past. After some twenty minutes of venting my frustrations, Mal was thoroughly amused at my description, while making some emphatic noises at the situation.

“But enough about unchanging walls,” I groused, letting the topic go, “Did you keep up with Jakyl’s situation?”

“Only a little, things he posted on the forum or shown on his stream. Not like he’d actively talk to me any longer, I think he likes me even less than you,” she shrugged, clearly not too bothered by the ire of her former companion.

“The strange curse that mysteriously struck him,” she gave me an amused look at that, “ultimately killed him. Simple exhaustion did him in, slowly but surely, until the exhaustion crossed the line and he keeled over. Once he was back, he could sleep again, though the curse still lingers, making quite a few natives very reluctant when talking to him. Massive negative initial rep and all that.” I nodded at that, not even trying to hide the satisfaction of getting my revenge.

“Oh, and once a month, on nights with a dark moon, he still gets the nightmares, as if to remind him of what he did, or something like that.” My smile got only wider, it fit just too beautiful. In the long term, it wouldn’t be a tremendous punishment that made it impossible for him to stay in the game, merely a perpetual annoyance that forced him to put in more effort or adapt to the situation and only work with those who didn’t care about his oathbreaker-status. But even if he did, monthly reminders of his actions would continue to haunt him.

“That’s just too bad, really,” I insincerely told her, “Anyway, do you want to try some more liquid Moonlight?” I asked, offering her the carafe, filled with the closest equivalent I had managed to create in the capsule space. It wasn’t quite the real deal, but close enough.

She accepted with a nod, and soon, we were back to gossiping about another topic.