Alix wasn’t very happy with the downgrade from Datari’s house to my spartan hut, but he didn’t have much choice.

I suspect Datari used that healing spell on him again because he’s much healthier than expected for someone who could barely sit up yesterday.

“So, even though I was exhausted, the pain woke me up. I’m barely conscious and there’s that disgusting giant leech that came out of nowhere and is biting into my flank. The thing was at least as big as my arm!”

While we’re looking for Zaimeia to get some supplies for him, like covers and stuff, he’s telling me about his recent adventures.

“At that point I was beyond freaking out because of a small monster like that, it was basically a reflex, I summoned a small beam and the next second it was cut in half.”

I could be walking much faster and getting this errand done in a flash by myself, but Bob pointed out that the solitude probably got to Alix over time, and we should be there for him.

I certainly agree.

“Well, that was not a good idea. I mean, the smell of burnt flesh I kinda got used to expecting, but the leech was too soft and the cut went straight through before really cauterizing. It kind of bursted and the two halves started trashing wildly, spilling smoking acidic blood everywhere.”

That sounds like a nightmare.

“Holy shit, you didn’t get too much on you?”

“Nah, I rolled away quickly and at that point it wasn’t alive enough to follow, so I got away with just the bleeding bite mark and some small burns.”

“Really? Sounds like you were lucky, in spite of getting ambushed at night like that.”

He vigorously nods as he answers,

“Oh yeah, definitely. The really dangerous stuff always attacked me during the day so far. But we need to make some fire back at your place so that I have some light to manipulate if needed, making the light myself burns through my mana way too fast.”

I relay Bob’s question.

“What about the orbs you made yesterday?”

“That light isn’t really fit for fighting, it’s less energetic and it isn’t dense enough. It’s already more expensive than you’d expect, a couple mana points every second or so. During the day… Look.”

He stops and raises his hand, his gaze sharpens as he focuses. His palm slowly becomes covered by creeping darkness, as if holding some kind of mist that sucks in all the light and gives nothing back. There’s no more feeling of depth as I’m mesmerized by the pure obscurity of the anomaly he’s casually holding.

Wow, I don’t know how it works but he’s controlling a mesh of mana strands between his fingers. It’s extending about a meter in every direction but it’s much denser in the dark area.

After almost a full minute, he says with some tension in his voice, and more seriousness than I’ve heard from him before.

“Don’t look straight at it, this will be bright.”

Even from the corner of my eyes, the flash tears through the light of the day like an angry thunderbolt. A round mark the size of his hand is seared on the ground, smoking slightly.

“That was about the same cost as those weak lights, two points of mana spent gathering and directing light instead of producing it.”

Wow, this is terrifying.

I think the worst is how utterly silent and discrete the whole thing is. You’d expect some buildup, like in the movies where laser guns kind of buildup a hot ball of energy before shooting, and there are sound effects, and stuff.

Here it’s the opposite. Cold buildup then a flash of silent and frightening power.

“Pretty cool right? Of course for now there is some leakage so you can actually see the flash but I can get better at focusing the ray.”

“So the light would only be visible by the target?”

“Yeah! Like a real laser! The light only shows up after it hits something because it disperses from there. If you’re not on the path you’ll never know a massive laser just passed by, that’s the dream.”

Uh. This is not fine, but I don’t know how to say so.

You mean casually walking next to a guy who is basically a doomsday weapon?

Yeah.

Smile and wave protocol?

Sure.

We’ve got some supplies to get, don’t we? Can’t stand out here all day.

“Well for now, the dream is...”

Oh no.

About twenty meters away, a kid is silently crying in a side path, while two older, frightened children are trying to comfort him and two others are worriedly looking our way.

“Stay here Alix.”

How the hell do I defuse this…

I wave at them and start slowly moving their way, which has them all taking a step back, with the crying one turning around and running back out of sight, around the wall of a house.

Come on, I’ve been in the town for twenty days, they should know I’m harmless…

Of course, I’m the only one that knows about Alix’s powers. Maybe Pheyis has suspicions but as far as they are concerned, something mysterious happened in the mountains, and all we found were a dead monster and an injured and unconscious human. They know I’m from another world, but also that I’m nothing really special and had never heard about magic before.

Guessing that Alix is directly responsible for killing the monster, and can turn light into a deadly weapon pretty much at will is probably far fetched.

Until he did a demonstration in broad daylight and kids saw it.

Shit, shit shit shit.

“Hey kids, everything is alright! Don’t be afraid.”

That’s exactly what a scary person would say.

Well, why don’t you come up with a better line, they are still over there looking pathetic.

Just say you’re going in another direction and act like everything is normal.

There’s no way they’ll buy that but I don’t have a better idea.

“Well, tell your friend to not cry, I’m going to the warehouse with Alix here.”

And with this I grab him by the hand and drag a dumbstruck Alix away from them.

- - -

After our errand, I left Alix back home to rest, and went to see my favorite smith.

Skarix handed me the weapon with a proud smile. A work that kept him busy when he was bored for the last ten days.

Crafting me a whip.

Well I’ll be honest, it’s not really what I had in mind.

He didn’t have the kind of tools needed to make a classic, thin bullwhip, and his trade isn’t leather-working either.

So he did what he could: he crafted a wicked looking weapon.

I have no idea if wielding this will really work in a fight, but I will not hesitate to give it my best try.

The handle is a polished rod of fifteen centimeters of iron, it’s grooved to provide a good grip, and ends in a pummel that could serve as a hammer head if it wasn’t round. Then there’s the main body of the whip, three tightly interwoven strips of leather that slowly gets slightly thinner over four meters.

And then there’s the bite, a single thin strip of leather ending in what one could easily mistake for a tight ball of nails.

Except those aren’t made of the same stuff as the handle. Those are cast iron, not anywhere as “soft” as the weaker iron of the handle.

We didn’t manage to make steel, which is both durable and elastic enough to be the amazing material modern society wholeheartedly embraced.

But we did manage to raise the temperature of Skarix’s oven enough to melt iron and have it run into a mold.

Bellows are pretty cool.

And what we learned is that while wrought iron can be deformed, cast iron stubbornly stays in shape until it is overwhelmed and snaps completely.

The downside is that you can’t work it when it’s a liquid for obvious reasons, and can’t work it once it’s hardened because it just ignores you.

Not a problem when you just want a nasty spike.

After letting me admire his work for a little, Skarix starts pushing me outside, his boisterous voice easily filling the workshop.

“Come on boy, try your weapon outside, I want to see if I wasted my damn time!”

“Hey, hey, I don’t know how this will go, calm down.”

I do have some confidence though, the whip just feels right, more than a sword ever has so far.

Hopefully I won’t hurt either of us.

Once outside, I uncoil the weapon and try to wiggle it somewhat. The hard leather unwillingly starts following my movements, small wrist moves translating into large lazy undulations.

I feel like a spoiled kid, this is awesome.

Come on, try to crack it!

I raise my arm and when I feel that the weapon is almost entirely in the air on my right, I sharply move back down, sending the small gray ball of pain literally whistling past, a blur screaming just how dangerous it can be.

Pretty sure I can learn to actually aim this.

It didn’t crack though.

I transition back to soft movements to try and kill the accumulated momentum in a controlled way.

“Humm, satisfied? It is a bit scary but I honestly would never trade a spear for that.”

Well, he’s disappointed.

“Let me try again a few times.”

The whips gilfeiths have don’t crack, they are too short for that so they only whistle and hurt. They use them to efficiently herd their cattle that’s about it.

I gave the length specifications to Skarix for this one, without really knowing what I’m doing. Maybe four meters is too short, maybe the extra weight of the nails at the end kill any hope of it working.

But maybe it will work.

So I try a few different timings, I know whips crack because the wave travels along a thinning length, and physics do their own brand of magic without any mana required.

The tip passes just a bit too close for comfort a couple times, kicking up dust close to my leg. Scary but not enough to stop trying.

Shhh-Tak!

It works!

And I laugh like a kid on Christmas eve.

A beautiful crack that raises to the sky in a defiant burst, as ingenuity breaks the speed of sound.

I turn to see Skarix cheering with a big smile.

Hell yeah.