Mages couldn’t see with their backs, right? Right. Maybe.

Let’s go with ‘maybe’.

Good thing Roth spelt out another hint himself.

“Shoot a Mage from a blind spot, make him lose focus?”

Roth crossed his hands on the chest, thinking.

“Well, yes… Yes, it is a good tactic. You asked about the duels, so I got lost for a second, but the same trick works there as well. Some people can force their way through the effects, but it is… risky. I think you understand, why.”

“Just risky, not dangerous?”

Roth’s serious pose unleashed the wave of cold through the room.

“Lethal. This is a question of life and death, Joseph. All Spheres are naturally resistant against enforced changes on reality, but unless your Body is made of diamonds, unless your Mind can make torture feel like a fun game of poker, and unless your Spirit is potent to the point that you literally never waver in your life choices and goals… I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Spheres?”

“Body. Mind. Spirit, or, as this term is sometimes known as, Will. One determines how you affect Logic and how Logic affects you. Another is awareness of the world around you. And the last one is awareness of oneself. There is Soul too, but this Sphere is related to Reincarnation. Remember Lady Edna?”

Joe nodded. How could he forget the fierce rich woman in the ghost (he-he) mansion at the edge of nowhere?

“Her Soul has already left the world, the very moment she died. Her Mind split into Memory and Personality. Fortunately for her, the Bond to her mansion was strong enough for them to reconnect together, creating a Ghost.”

“...Bound by the very item that allowed her to remain on the land in the first place,” Joe added.

Roth stood up. His shuffling steps reflected the gloomy atmosphere. He approached the bookshelf and inspected it, almost like he had never seen the books on it before.

“Magic is a tool. A powerful tool. A potent tool. The one who brings Death has the potential to be the one who brings Life. The one who binds Fate may fall for the clutches of Unknown. The one who weaves Time may destroy the world - or rebuild it from its darkest hour. Your path in life determines your Path through reality. What core your character had then become your Affinities. If you fight for your goals even when the very Logic marches against you, you may Awaken.”

Roth looked at Joe. The hell itself would not stand the fires that lit up within the doctor’s eyes.

“But you might not need it, after all.”

The dreadful perturbation took over Joseph. He gulped.

“What do you mean I don’t need it, doctor?…”

The deathmage shrugged. The flame in his eyes fainted away.

“I might be wrong… And I probably am. You felt weird to me this morning, but I guess it was just my imagination.”

“Weird… how?”

Roth scratched his head. He avoided looking at the person in question.

“Sorry, Joe… don’t think too hard about it. It was probably my morning confusion. I woke up later than usual today, you see. Couldn’t get used to it.”

The doctor sounded apologetic and Joseph had no reason to doubt his sincerity. He chose to let it go and move on.

“Anything else I should know, doc?”

Roth nodded.

“Mages are not restricted by the Conventional Logic in their potential. This is important.”

“Important… alright, but how?”

“What do you think Conventional Logic means, Joe?”

Joseph scrambled through his brain for anything helpful. ‘Conventional’ could have a fair number of different meanings, but this most common one would be ‘normal’. Or ‘traditional’. Following the trail, ‘logic’ is then… logic?

But conventional logic? Would it not just be a normal, everyday logic?

Why not just call it for what it is, then?

“...Normal logic?”

He missed. The doctor’s reassuring smile told him as such.

“It would be a logical conclusion, true. Unfortunately, as the term in Magical theory, it has a meaning that is similar, yet distant from the one you would assume.”

Joe was absolutely lost. His state did not escape from Roth’s attention.

“Physics, Joseph. Conventional Logic is your everyday, mundane physical laws.”

The implications of this fact appeared clear as day.

“Mages are not bound by physics?!”

“In a sense. They still are, but their development escapes the mundane restrictions. How that manifests depends on a Sphere that they are developing. Remember what I told you about that?”

The image of the literal walking diamond was too hilarious to ignore. Joe coughed, hoping that his sudden burst of amusement passed by unnoticed. He was wrong.

“I see you do. While the diamond body is an unreachable dream without adding some Spells into the mix, I wish it wasn’t… imagine the profit…”

Roth released a stifled laugh.

“Doctor, we are getting off track.”

“Right, right. Well, if a Mage keeps developing his Body, he might become strong enough to lift the entire ‘Morning Star’ all on his own. It’s just an example, Joe. It takes quite some time to reach this level, so don’t worry, Mage does not wrestle mountains right away. It’s the same as every other quality - Mage has to train and keep his body in shape throughout.”

Evalyn certainly does…

He stomped his arising rage down. Not now, brain.

But then another part of him heard the call.

Dear, if you want, me and Memory can change our shapes to whatever you desire… We can even provide you with some mental relaxation and entertainment… You only have to say a word… right, Memory?

The other Stat said nothing, but Joe could imagine her blushing madly. Still, Empathy’s words made him excited for a demonstration.

Sure, show me what you got…

The figure of a naked black-haired beauty with green eyes flashed him poses so exhilarating, he punched himself to stay in the sane Mind.

I get it! I get it! Stop violating my brain!

Not helping matters was that (as Joe believed) she chose this appearance on purpose…

Curse you for luring me into your trap…

The mischievous giggle confirmed his suspicions. Roth stared at his blatant self-abuse with eyes the size of a frog.

“Joe, what’s wrong?!”

“Nothing, nothing!” He tried to calm himself down. His healthy reaction to the event wasn’t helping.

Damn you, Empathy. Look what you have done.

“What were we talking about, again?”

“Magic?…”

The doctor eyed him with suspicion. Joe grabbed the cup from the table brought it to his lips in an attempt to look natural. Unfortunately, he missed the part where he emptied the entire cup. Now things looked even weirder.

He coughed to clear out the awkward atmosphere.

“Do Mages need gestures or some incantations for Spells?”

At least Roth wasn’t drilling him with his glare anymore.

“Not necessarily. But they might use some for mental conditioning. Like a trigger for a gun, but a Mage can use anything to help his mental state. Words, gestures, poses, even things like emotional reactions of others. Or nothing at all. Back in my days, that was the most reliable way to recognize which Spell will hit you the next second…”

The doctor shook his head.

“...There are other ways, but these are the ones you can use right now. And with that, my lecture is over. What did you pick up from over conversation, student?”

‘Student’ was reserved for someone else, but Joe didn’t mind.

“That the best way to fight a Mage is to throw away any chivalry.”

The grin the doctor showed reeked of sudden bloodlust.

“No mercy. Show them what you got, young man.”

Their conversation came to its inevitable end. Joseph stood up, still feeling the taste of fresh coffee in his mouth. It was as if his head swelled like a balloon from the new information he learned. The barrage of unfamiliar terms and concepts that Roth dumped on him turned his thoughts into a giant mess, and he didn’t have the energy to ask the doctor for clarification on their meaning.

It was time to go back into the field.

Joe rushed straight into the Arsenal. He didn’t think about it when he woke up, but if he runs into Evalyn again without The Proper Response, he is a corpse. So, it was in his best interest to prepare this Proper Response before he does anything stupid again.

Three explosive brothers lied in their crates, waiting for sometimes to pick them up and raise chaos. Joe took five of each. He would take more if it wasn’t for ammo, that sat comfortably in his coat pockets, refusing to evict themselves. The place got even more crowded when Joseph decided to add a semi-automatic rifle to his growing arsenal.

He had to toss away something. The body itself had no issues with role-playing a baggage porter - his balance had. The left side pulled the weight to itself and caused him to stumble. Joe thought for a moment and figured that the sword had to be left behind. He would be unable to improve his skills in time for them to matter.

He put the weapon back where it belonged. Just as with the bolt-action rifle, he only used it once, and not even during a serious battle, unlike the gun.

Was it going to be a trend? He hoped that it wasn’t.

However, going outside with only Ralf’s knife as a close-quarters tool made him question his decision. The knife had only so much reach, and the people of the Threshold weren’t exactly averse to melee weapons, even if the abundance of guns appeared obvious. A sword would be a useful tool as well, should an emergency present itself.

He walked around the room. Countless sword-like weapons got no love from him. But his hopes of finding anything different were falling lower with every shelf he passed by. Pirates were not known for originality, and now Joe could truly stand by that statement.

Until he stumbled onto a log. A long log that lied peacefully in the distant corner of the Arsenal, like an ancient treasure nobody expects to find in a random cave. Seven axes bit into the piece of wood, with three missing, leaving cuts behind.

Truly Ralf’s way to keep weapons in one place. Why would he not put them on empty shelves?… The contrast was jarring. Between the neat organization of guns and swords versus a log that had axes sticking out from it, why would Ralf leave them behind like that?

Joseph shook his head and pulled one of the axes out. It was surprisingly stubborn and adamantly refused to leave the nest, before Joe put his leg on the log itself and wrestled it away.

This weapon looked like a war axe, with a blade that could be used for grappling (or even climbing) in a pinch. The blade continued onto the other side, with the second blade itself resembling a gut hook. These types of hooks could be used for cutting animal corpses, or for more mundane tasks, like cutting a rope and lifting a searing pot. The size of the entire weapon allowed for comfortably operating with it even by using a single arm - the action that Joe performed with a dazzling enthusiasm.

He took some time and swung the axe several times, getting used to the weight. Old memories came back and with them, the images of animals he personally gutted open. Joe scowled - he wasn’t hunting down animals because he was a soulless sadist, but because his grandfather suggested him to.

He did agree to the suggestion at the end, however…

And then it turned out that he liked the sweet taste of violence.

Joseph straightened himself and shifted some of the weight around. The axe found its place closer to the right hand. The drum rifle received the left shoulder as the place of permanent residence. Everything felt right.

“Time for some hunting, brother.”

Let’s do it, brother!