Mason reached into his pack and pulled out a serving of fireboar, then cut it in half with a dagger and passed the other half to Leornal. Seared, salted, and wrapped in a special leaf, it was still fairly fresh, though much of its flavor was lost to the salt and it had toughened with age.

Leornal looked inquisitively at Mason for the impromptu picnic, but Mason just shrugged. “The meat is pretty mana-rich, and I figure we both need all the support we can get.”

The archer nodded and then pulled a glass vial from his bag, passing it to Mason. Inside was a blue liquid, and Leornal was about to explain what it was when Mason shouted, “Holy shit it’s a mana potion!”

Now the other man frowned, “How did you know that? Don’t tell me the Biord have them- they’re awfully rare.”

Mason laughed even as he cast analyze on the vial, “No it’s not them. Where I’m from, we dream of worlds full of magic. This is kind of a staple item in most of those stories. Considering you guys are all about finding mana in like, rocks and stuff, I wasn’t sure you’d actually have a true, blue potion.”

Mana Potion: Imbued with potent energies, this will restore the body’s mana for several minutes.

“Take a sip, then. It’ll go well with the boar,” Leornal insisted.

Mason sipped and took in about a quarter of the vial. Sure enough, he felt the torrent of energy hit him immediately, but he was almost too disgusted by the taste to care. He spat the aftertaste from his mouth, “That was vile! What the hell do you guys make this out of?”

“Rocks and stuff, mostly. A few insects, and a fermented leaf,” the archer explained as he took a sip and grimaced himself. “It does the trick though. You think you can handle a few more of those creatures now while I finish pumping up this storage device?”

“Are you certain this is worth all the trouble?” Mason shifted as he spoke and felt his everything hurt. He wasn’t sure he was even ready to be fighting here.

“Of course not, but I’m certain we’re fucked if it doesn’t give us any useful information. Though, who knows, we could always just find another one of these devices and just keep pissing off every beast in the city.”

“Well, that’s one way to complete my challenge. Though I’m not sure these guys really count as gremlins.”

“Progenitors of the gremlins, at least,” said Leornal, “Before the corruption really eats away at them. It’s even possible the small ones are just a whole new species, born from these larger beasts and a wicked survival sense.”

Mason also shared one of the health potions he had scored from the Biord, and his Recovery skill sped up his stamina regeneration. While he waited to reach full health, he checked on how his skills were improving. He’d gained a level in Recovery, Analyze, Staff Specialization, Blade Specialization, Stamina Drain, Life Drain, Focus, and even Mana Manipulation and Glamour.

He also noticed something unusual. Though he never saw any notifications about it levelling up, Mana Tolerance now sat at twenty. It made sense, considering he now generated mana rapidly and dealt with it pretty casually, but he wondered what had caused the large change.

But while he considered his skills and his mana usage, he had a thought. “Leornal, you said those things bind their souls around themselves when they go into their stasis, right? Is that why their skin is so tough?”

He looked like he was thinking for a moment, and then replied, “If it was a true soul barrier you’d have a much harder time piercing through it than you did. But it’s possible it just wore down over time from the mana starvation. I guess we do have some luck after all.”

“How would you pierce through a soul barrier, then?” Mason asked, walking over to one of the bodies and probing its skin with one of his daggers.

“A powerful spell, an enchanted weapon, or plenty of soul magic could rip it apart of course,” He gestured as he spoke, as if trying to collect the thoughts from the air, “I wouldn’t know anything in particular though. I’m still much closer to an accountant than a spellcaster, even with a few bow and arrow tricks.”

“Would Torysen’s weapon be able to do it?”

“Break a true soul barrier? Only with a particularly strong strike and the consumption of almost all of her mana. And even then, it depends on the strength of the soul barrier,” Leornal put his fist to his face, scrunching it up in thought. “These beasts would respond to almost any amount of mana, though. Their skin is reinforced from the soul barrier, but it should soften instantly to try and absorb it.”

Leornal pulled out an arrow and gripped it in his fist. Channeling a small amount of mana, its tip glowed blue and pushed it easily into one of the fallen beast’s undamaged sides to demonstrate.

“Can you teach me how to do that with my sword?” Mason asked eagerly, certain now that this next fight would go much smoother.

The archer shook his head as he cleaned off the arrow head, “Judging by the crude way you throw those mana blades, it would take several weeks to hone your mana skills to the point where you could fight with a mana strengthened blade. To even come close to Torysen’s skill with mana blade you’d need to have mastered activating spells with rune mastery.”

“Runes again, right. Give me a minute.”

“You want to master an entire new ability in the next few minutes and hone it to battle competency against ancient beasts?” Geralt exclaimed, laughing from where he reclined in the strange immaterial world.

“I was able to kill the beasts without the ability, but it would be a lot easier if my sword actually was able to pierce their skin without so much effort. We got lucky that only two attacked from the start, so I need this strength, now. Mowrytal, can you teach me?” Mason pleaded, turning his head between the two from where he was bound at the center.

He could only see so much of the room, but the founts that flowed interminably in the distance seemed stronger than they had before. Soon, Mason would have to learn how to unbind himself so he could explore his soul closely, but that would have to wait until his survival wasn’t quite as tenuous.

“You have yet to comprehend the rune, and so I cannot begin teaching you spells,” Mowry explained, holding the shifting, shimmering rune before Mason’s face. He could feel the warmth flowing from its energetic surface.

“I don’t need a spell, just a skill. I have mana manipulation and mana blade, I just need more control. A few points of mana could give my blade the edge it needs to chop these guys into pieces. Show me how to do that!”

Mowry frowned, but Geralt stomped over to admonish him, “You arrogant brat. You think power is something that can be given so easily? You have to earn it, work for it. Your spat with Torysen was a mockery of a fight. Your concentration on the rune is meager at best. You can duck out of the way of a slow attack and slash with your pathetic little sword, but that doesn’t make you a warrior.”

Demon looked the man in the eye and pulled at his restraints. He felt his arms tighten and wrap around an object where they were held out at his sides, and for the first time recognized that they were wrapped around his staff. No wonder that strange artifact was related to this place.

“I’m kind of sick of people giving me crap, Geralt, so if you don’t have anything productive to add you can sit the fuck down before I rip your soul apart. I couldn’t even touch mana before and now I can. I couldn’t beat you in a fight, and yet here you are. I understand that I am weak but I am fighting for my life with every breath I have, so help me or shut the hell up,” he shouted with fire in his eyes.

Geralt looked offended at first, but then his lips began to curl into the faintest glimmer of a smile, “I almost hope you do find a way to survive, boy.”

Demon gave him a curt nod and then turned back to Mowry, “Do you have a way to help me or not? Can’t you just channel my mana for me or something?”

“That is not an option, Demon!” Mowry shouted back with a ferocity that neither of the other two men had expected.

“That sounds like you can do it, then,” Demon insisted.

“I have already meddled with your soul, and it has changed you. Too much more and you may not remain the person you were.”

“I don’t even want to be that person anymore. He went to school, and parties, and watched TV. But none of that matters now. I’m stuck in the ancient city of a race that literally turned itself into monsters trying to survive. If I have to give a little something up to survive myself, I think I can handle it.”

“Activate the machine, Leornal. I can fight them now,” Demon said, and his red-tinted hand curled tightly around a blade that glowed with mana.

“What? That fast? How?” the archer asked, stunned. To his mana sight it was obvious that Demon had found a way to wrap mana around his blade’s edge, but there was no way someone could master its balance in mere moments of silence.

As if on cue, the mana around the blade flared up, then almost flickered out, like a small candle doused in lighter fluid. “Let’s just say I’m not resting on my own power.”

Leornal bowed gently, “Mowrytal. He is too kind for his own good. Alright then. Be ready, Demon.” He moved toward the console and began pouring mana in.

While Leornal activated the device again, Demon strained himself to manage the mana that lined his sword’s edge. Mowry’s assistance was enough to get the ball rolling- he exploited Demon’s skill with Mana Blade and Mana Manipulation to craft out the beginnings of a skill- but ultimately it was like being guided through the motions of swinging a baseball bat, and still relied on the wielder’s power.

Several times the power flared and faded in Demon’s hands, and he knew that if he released the mana he’d be hard-pressed to activate this skill again. He heard a roar in the distance, and looked out through the entrance nearest to Leornal, past the debris and over the sky-bridge to see two of the beasts fighting each other for access to the bridge.

“Hurry up you ugly jerks! I’ve only got so much mana to force feed you!” he shouted, drawing their attention. They both charged at the same time, and in their haste actually broke the archway leading to the sky-bridge. “Fuck,” Demon said to himself as they charged past the rubble scattering down the edges of the bridge.

He held his ground though, and slashed through the air to distract them as they ran. When one finally got close enough he wasted no time stabbing forward and felt the mana-blade slide cleanly into the arm of the first attacker. It roared in pain and flung itself backwards, knocking the second beast off balance and over the edge.

Demon stifled a laugh as the beast plummeted to the ground, surrounded by the wreckage of the bridge’s railing. He was reminded to focus by the flickering of power around his blade, and he took several steps backwards into the room so that he had space to maneuver around the beast’s large claws.

Another roar caught his attention, and he saw that a second yeti had entered the large chamber he was defending, and swore as he realized he’d have to end his current fight quickly to prevent Leornal from getting attacked.

Leornal realized this too and shouted something that Mason didn’t quite make out. Whatever it was, it sounded frustrated.

Facing down his opponent, Demon held his sword off and over the railing of the bridge, drawing the yeti’s eyes away from his body. The dumb beast couldn’t help but follow the sight of concentrated mana. Its distraction was its undoing. Demon moved in closer to the yeti and then thrust the blade forward. Its eyes followed the blade even as it plunged into its chest, and Demon didn’t stop there. He dragged the empowered blade across its chest and only pulled it out when it snagged on a rib.

Stepping back, he waited until the monster tried to swipe at him again, and Demon cut fiercely into its attacking arm. It reared back from the pain and Mason again stabbed it, lower this time, and then pushed his full body weight to topple the beast backwards over the rail.

Presuming it dead or dying, Demon rushed back into the room and heard Leornal swear in relief as he intersected the third yeti of the wave. This one seemed smarter than the two on the bridge, and when Demon tried some simple slashes and stabs, it turned each of the attacks with a long claw, rather than absorbing the attacks with its fortified flesh.

Whether it was truly more intelligent or not, the beast still could hardly keep its attention off the mana in the weapon, such was its hunger, and Demon continued to press this advantage. He began to dance around the monster, trying to remember the steps of the footwork Shayjol had showed him. Several times the natural grace of the steps, even poorly utilized by Demon’s lack of skill, allowed him to maneuver around a heavy attack that would have severely maimed him otherwise.

His luck didn’t hold out forever, and after landing several shallow cuts along the beast’s flank, it finally countered and Demon took a direct hit to the chest by a sweep of the yeti’s arm. He was stunned long enough for the beast to pounce on him, and the sheer weight of his opponent might have been enough to cripple him. Something cracked in his arm, and several things cracked in his chest. But his sword arm was okay, and when the beast moved to bite it off and retrieve the sword, Demon shoved the blade up through the roof of its mouth.

It collapsed on top of him, and he wiggled out from underneath it, feeling its sticky, tar-like blood coating his clothing and skin. He could barely focus on that sensation though; he was more impressed by the sheer amount of pain from his injuries. His one arm lay limp at his side, but his sword arm rummaged through his bag to find one of the Biord’s health potions. He ripped the cork out with his teeth and immediately chugged the whole thing.

The injuries almost hurt worse as they healed, but the chaotic battle-lust that filled Demon kept him pushing to his feet. He stood and tried futilely to refuel the mana in his blade, but between his poor lack of control and his even poorer mana reserves, he couldn’t even spark it a little bit.

Another beast pounded into the room from the doorway near Leornal, and Demon groaned as he began to charge that way with his unempowered sword, low health, and dwindling mana and stamina reserves. Before he could begin his attack, he saw several dozen arrow splinters fly past and barrage the beast, which staggered back and placed one arm in front of its face in self-defense.

Demon moved faster then, and worked to get his blade wedged into one of the openings made by the arrow splinters. The beast was angry though, and began countering Demon’s attacks with enough force to knock him back into the center of the room. He was discouraged from losing his mana-blade, but he had beaten two of these things before he had that skill.

They went several rounds, pushing against one another and wearing one another down, but finally Demon had riddled it with enough cuts that he could stab it in several vital points, and the yeti fell, mere feet from where Leornal continued to work on the machine.

Mason nearly collapsed to the ground, hurriedly drinking the last of his health potions and hoping against hope that no more yetis would show up before he could recover. Five of them lay dead around the room, and he knew one more was probably dead or dying far below.

With a concerted effort he gasped out, “Are you almost fucking done?”

“Almost,” was all the response he got, and he just shook his head and listened to the sounds of the city coming to life.