“Ruby, Gleam!” Dallion shouted as he landed back to the ground.

Both shardfly and whip blade darted at the mage. Before they could reach him, invisible barriers appeared, preventing them from passing the final ten inches. For all his faults, the mage was skilled, and fast.

He was the reason March got banished, Dallion thought. And likely not only her. According to the memory, that had been the greatest Academy disaster that the empire had seen. Mages and imperial guards by the dozens had been banished and had their names erased from existence. There was no telling how many of them had ended up in Nerosal. If Dallion had to guess, he’d say about half—the unluckier half. Nerosal was known as the city of second chances, but it wasn’t the only one that accepted fallen. The other city was further north and considered closer to civilization.

Just as Dallion turned around, he saw March make her move. The woman hadn’t made any serious moves so far, but now she seemed as if she were entering the fight. That wasn’t all. Her style of fighting had also changed into something altogether different. It was as if the armor had broken up into fragments, held together by magic, allowing her to perform movements that were previously restricted.

Prison break, Nil said.

What? Dallion asked, confused.

Even curses come with conditions. Being an imperial comes with certain benefits and obligations. If the emperor wanted her dead, she’d have been killed years ago. Banishment is meant to serve two things: a reminder for people not to forget their place and a demonstration to others not to mess up. Fighting enemies of the empire is still very much desired. The moment the last shred of doubt is removed that someone is an enemy of the empire, the prison that is her armor, is broken, allowing March to do her duty. The catch is that it only works against enemies of the empire, not enemies of the guild, the county, or even the province.

Quite the restrictive safeguard, and by the looks of it quite powerful to keep such skills in check. Everything Dallion had assumed March to be was quickly thrown out of the window. Even with her new perception he was barely able to keep track of her movements as she bombarded the rogue mage with hundreds of strikes per second. On his part, Gassil, also picked up his game, his hands and fingers moving at such speed that one would swear he had eight arms. Spells appeared only to be shattered by March.

In the span of two seconds, it was as if a fight of hours had taken place. Aware that she would only get in the way, Gleam moved away from the fight, forcibly pulling Ruby away with her. Eury, on the other hand, had different ideas, leaping back up into action. Her own armor no longer had the abilities it had in the sword realm, but it still seemed to enhance her movements, making her speed approach that of the other two.

Don’t even think about it, Nil said. You don’t have the speed to take part in such a fight.

I don’t have to be there to join in, Dallion said, combining layer vision with his scholar skills. In his mind he could see the path and speed of all attacks, like vectors flying through the air. Prolet, make things interesting.

It was the simplest of commands, causing the smallest of actions. All the sword did was to shift slightly and in so doing cause Gassil to scratch the tip of one finger along the blade. Under normal circumstances such a wound wouldn’t even register, let alone influence the battle. But as the saying went, even the wings of a butterfly had the ability to cause hurricanes further away.

The mere fact that the mage had wounded himself was enough to decrease his concentration by as little as a fraction. Earthly habits abandoned millennia ago took control, making him glance in the direction of the wound, eager to determine the source. That created a rather small blind spot in the man’s defenses. The weakness was immediately exploited by Eury, who attempted to punch at the mage’s neck. Gassil’s reaction speed prevented her from succeeding, but as he protected against the punch, an even greater crack in his defense formed.

I need more mind, Dallion thought. That, or a higher level of scholarly skills. At the moment, he could see everything that was going on, but not what would happen in the future. Once again, he felt the same way as he did during the days he first learned about awakened markers. No matter how good he was at reacting at the moment, he could never become a grandmaster, for he couldn’t defeat his opponent’s strategy.

There was no doubt about it. He had a lot more to learn both in terms of traits, skills, and actual experience. In a normal one-to-one battle, he wasn’t strong enough to defeat a noble or a mage. However, he wasn’t all that far off, either. Also, he was friends with a dragon.

“Dark, burst into instances and attack him!” Dallion shouted.

You sure? the dragon asked. I thought you were mad when I did combat splitting without telling anyone.

Precisely!

The request was confusing enough for Dark to go on with it. Splitting into three dozen instances, the dragon flapped its wings, then released a torrent of air in the direction of the mage. Each instance earned a different reaction, most of them poor, but that wasn’t the point. Dallion himself burst into sixty instances and charged. In all of them, he did the same thing: take out the kaleidervisto and aim it at the mage’s chest.

Full speed, Lux, he said, then used his will to force the instance he wanted.

The dragon’s instances did nothing at all. Slow and easily avoidable, Gassil didn’t even have to use magic to deal with them. However, due to his distracted state, he didn’t even see Dallion’s wave coming. Out of all of the instances, one was chosen—the one in which Lux managed to tear off the skill gem from the mage.

“Felygn,” Dallion whispered. “If I’ve any favors owed, I’m using them now.”

A scream of pain and agony filled the air, as the gem was separated from the Gassil. Based on the emotion, Dallion felt that it wasn’t the pain that caused the yell, but the acknowledgement of defeat. The mage thought the Star had given him everything the world owed him. Instead, he had lost everything he thought he’d gained. First the sword, then the skill gem, and soon after that, he’d also lose his life.

Dallion was about to tell Lux and Gleam to reclaim the gem for him, but before he did, the crystal darted straight at him, smacking him in the forehead.

HERBOLOGY skills learned

A green rectangle flashed before his eyes for a moment, before disappearing again.

“What the?” Dallion grabbed his forehead, but the only thing there was a slight bump. There was no sign of the crystal, as if it had never existed… or rather, as if it had been consumed.

Hungry, a voice echoed in the background. Hungry!

Even with the fight continuing, Dallion felt the urge to turn around. He knew that he was hearing a new entity, however, it wasn’t a guardian.

Hungry!

Concentrating on his layer vision, Dallion found the source of the voice. A single blade of grass, among the rest, was screaming for food. Unlike those around him, it had been changed. It didn’t gain sustenance from the ground, but was seeking to drain it from the only source available: awakened beings.

Hungry! another voice joined in. Starving!

There was another blade of grass a fair distance away. And it wasn’t the only one. The two voices soon became a dozen, then a hundred… Thousands of plants were screaming for food all around, the sole purpose of their existence to sap energy from awakened. The mage had done a good job to change the nature of the flora he had found in the sword, changing its target. Naturally, magic was the only means to shield oneself from the effects. That would guarantee that in time the only people remaining in the world would be mages and non-awakened. That is, unless the mage changed the nature of the plants once again.

Hungry! Hungry! Hungry! a chorus of voices shouted from everywhere.

“Stop!” Dallion covered his ears, the wave of sound stronger than he had expected.

Pain pulsed in his temples as if someone was trying to drill into his head with a spoon. It was just like each other time he had tried to use a new skill. This time, the skill had affected him. That was the risk of knowing so much already.

Breathe, Nil told Dallion. Don’t think about the noises. Don’t try to block them out.

I can’t!

Dallion struggled to remain on his feet. Sensing something, the whip blade moved towards him, extending to form a protective circle around him.

Just like the trial with the distractions, the echo said. Ignore them. Let the voices and emotions pass through. They sting, but they can’t harm you.

The screams increased, growing louder and louder, until finally, they were gone; and along with them, everything else disappeared as well. Almost everything…

“You couldn’t resist, could you?” A Green Moon appeared in the darkness. “You had to ask for another favor without having to. Just like last time.”

Dallion had no strength to respond, laying in the nothingness, listening.

“You didn’t need the skill gem to stop the plague, although since this is the way you chose, so you’ll have to carry the burden. Just don’t complain later.”

Complain? Dallion wondered. He wasn’t even sure what he was to complain about. Other than the crushing voices, that was.

“You’ll need a lot of practice to develop your Herbology skill. Plants are everywhere in the wilderness. They don’t hide, like animals. Gassil was smart—he knew he couldn’t handle all the voices, so he never consumed the gem. He just used magic to make use of its powers.”

What about the Star?

“Get some rest, Dal,” the Moon said, glowing brighter. “You almost earned it.”

There was no telling whether Dallion got any rest or not. For a moment later, he opened his eyes, feeling just as exhausted as if he’d been on a marathon. The voices were gone, although he felt a significant hunger, as if he had leveled up half a dozen times without eating.

“Dal?” Eury approached him. “Take this.” She handed him a waterskin.

Water was the last thing Dallion wanted, but he took a few sips nonetheless. Seeing the gorgon in a relaxed state, he could assume that they had won the fight, although there didn’t seem to be any sign of march.

“Where’s—“ he tried to sit up, only to find that he lacked the strength to do so.

“March?” Eury helped him up. “Nearby. She wanted to have a word with the mage.”

“I have some questions too,” Dallion managed to say. However, Eury shook her head.

“No questions,” she said. It was clear what she meant. Officially, Gassil was to have died during the fight. “What about the sword?” Dallion asked. “What about the plague?”

“We’ll return the sword as promised. If the “real team” doesn’t show up by tomorrow, we’ll head back to the city to return it. It belongs to the Linatols. After that… Well, we’ll see what happens. As for the plague.” She paused. “That wasn’t our mission. We’ll tell what we found out if asked, but nothing more.”

“Right.”

“Dark’s gone, by the way.”

Dallion froze up.

“Don’t worry. It was his decision. He said that he must practice what he learned. March didn’t ask any questions so that means she won’t mention it.”

“Unless asked.” Dallion sighed.

“Even so, she doesn’t have a lot to say. She just saw it appear, take part in the fight, and vanish.” She moved closer. “I won’t say anything about him, even if asked.”