《The Summoner's Call》Chapter 18
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It's so hot!
Grunting, I change the position of my backpack to rearrange its weight on me again. The good old backpack is a very sorry sight by now; saying it is in a bad state would be putting it lightly. I have changed the straps that hold it to me many times, now just ugly strips of fur from a nameless animal are what is keeping it tied to me and that doesn't help with the current heat. The fur shows a sticky resistance each time I change the position as I am covered in sweat from head to toes.
The fur that I have used to patch the backpack reminds me of the fur cloak that I made and use most of the time, as most days aren't as hot as today, of course. Right now, it is neatly folded inside the backpack, but were I wearing it at this moment I would be agonizing from dehydration. I am wearing just my shorts, both my shirts and shoes lost long ago. I have been trying to make some footwear out of plants and leaves but haven't succeeded yet.
Today's temperature is not normal, much higher than usual. I have kept my eyes open for if I spot lava around the way but nothing so far. It seems that there is no volcano around here, I don't think there is even a small mountain in dozens of kilometers from here. Except that it is the only thing that I can think of that gives off so much heat. The Great Wild is huge beyond belief, supposedly entire mountain ranges exist inside it but I am not sure, haven't seen any. Maybe it is just a magical characteristic of this part of the forest.
Whatever. Exhaustion and a slight headache fruit of over-casting of the Water spell do not help me in the slightest. Giving up on my crusade to spot a volcano and knowing the creatures always kept watch for other monsters constantly, I stop staring intently at the canopy around.
After a few minutes of attempting to distract find a distraction and just tiring myself more, I resignedly go back to my thoughts. I am still a little skeletal, as only have passed a few days since I finally managed to grasp the Mingan's ability to strengthen their bodies with inner-mana.
How am I still alive? Although I never experienced it, surviving two weeks without food and water can be explained by the enhanced longevity of the body granted by the mana pool. Theoretically, mages live longer than normal people. I don't know the relation between mana and longevity but am aware of its existence.
Modifying the mana pool, however, is a completely different matter altogether. Something like that can usually only be achieved with a ritual of some sort. Teachers always stressed out about it and I read warnings on many books, even in some silly stories too, messing with one's mana pool leads to the permanent loss of control, death, or at least mental illness or physical diseases.
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I am not dead so, I am alive... yes, I am such a genius. I may be mentally ill but is difficult to say on my own. Asking the creatures at my surroundings about it leads to no conclusive answers either.
Now that I have established that I am most certainly not dead with around 80% of confidence, then it is possible that there were other drawbacks to my achievement, but so far, I have found none.
Am I insane then? I think about it a little and then roll my eyes in hopelessness. How could I know for sure by myself if I am mad or not? Impossible.
Maybe there were no drawbacks then? I will have to assume so if I can't find a problem.
Rituals that modify the mana pool and do not leave lasting damage can be counted on the fingers of one hand. They are rare and those who possess them super secretive about it. These have been researched for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Many other rituals have ended the lives of countless people. Could it be that I stumbled upon some sort of ritual that has no drawbacks? Unlikely.
In the end, I can't know if I have some sort of mental damage of the crazy kind without someone else's opinion, and neither I would trust my brain to test if I am crazy or not in some way, on its own.
I have already checked for any other type of damage I could think of. My reflexes are fine, my hunger is normal now, my thoughts are normal, I don't have any voice in my head, my singing is as bad as always, and my magic didn't weaken; actually, it even strengthened.
At first, I didn't know why my spells seemed stronger. Finding out if my bet was a success was the first thing I tried and Indeed, my body is getting stronger little by little. So, I managed to copy the natural skill of the Mingan, sending the now thinned out mana directly to my body without any pain. The next level would be sending it unconsciously like they do but I did it right away that day, it surprised me, must have been that the thinning out of the mana allows for more control.
Naturally, the thought of a secondary effect due to the change of my mana didn't escape me, my spells could have weakened or have increased in mana cost to be successfully cast but it was the complete opposite, they become more efficient.
It didn't take me much experimentation to confirm it. After careful observation, I discovered that each of the patterns of my spells, when channeled, had changed. Each of the patterns, formed with now thinner mana tendrils than before had strange forms inside them. And then, It clicked inside my head, there were patterns inside the patterns themselves. They are automatically formed, without any intervention on my part.
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I will definitely try to understand these later.
And about improved spells, I don't know if it is related but in these few days, I have gained a great deal of better control over the spirits I summon, and that gives me a great deal of satisfaction. Even although they conserve their ethereal form, all of the improvement ranges on the level of commands they take from me, as all of them have started to obey my mental comma-
From afar, or maybe right next to me, a sound as strong as thunders reaches me. My muscles' reflexes kick in and I prepare for combat as I try to jump back but I find myself looking to the floor as it suddenly starts to get away from me, then, without warning the floor appears right in front of me and kisses my face.
Ignoring the pain of my likely broken nose as my eyes start watering, I become aware that I can only hear a strange buzzing-like noise but nothing else. My head hurts and I feel that my ears are starting to bleed.
Sensing the vibrations of steps approaching through the ground I try to push myself up.
My head gets yanked back as something grabs and pulls back my hair.
Managing to turn my head to see at my back despite being held with a strong grip on my hair, a humanoid figure wearing a black cloak is everything I see before a gray fist speeds up to meet my face.
...
The stench of rottenness wakes me up as I gasp, disgusted by the smell, and then start a fit of coughing as both my tongue and dry throat taste the air.
Awful. So much that the headache I had, turned to a migraine.
My eyes hurt a lot, I think they are bloodied or something.
Wait.
When trying to move my arms to scratch my eyes off the blood I realize that they are tied by the wrists on my back and to the wall behind, where I am seated against. I feel the metallic coldness of the material.
Ok, I am scared now. What happened? What is happening? My heart seems to burst apart from beating so fast. I try to calm myself and notice the heat here is like being right in front of an oven. I don't think I will endure long around here without water, I can let the panic for later.
By the strange wetness that I can feel in my neck and ears, plus the fact I still hear just the buzzing-like noise I think something happened to my sense of hearing. Still a little dizzy I resolve myself to open my eyes despite the dried blood covering them, and after doing so, I quickly get accustomed to the dim light coming from the only window. It seems like the only light source here and is also obstructed by half a cloth hanging in front of it.
At first glance, I thought this was a cave but now I am sure this is some sort of room.
It seems that there is no oven in the room. The floor and walls seem to be made of black wooden planks that don't seem too strong, they give a weird sense of old and rottenness and I can already feel the splinters stuck on my feet. Frames are hanging on the walls but whatever was in there seems to have succumbed to time. There is some furniture in the room that makes me think this was some sort of living room or an office.
My eyes stop on the back of a black-cloaked figure that so far didn't stand out while blending in the unilluminated shadows like ten meters away from me, near the opposite wall of the room. It seems to be looking over his shoulder directly in my direction, hands supporting his weight over a desk in front of him. I don't think that he had moved a centimeter in all the time I inspected the room, I would have noticed otherwise.
I make eye contact with his shadowed features and without warning, he slowly turns around and starts walking towards me. I gulp and realize that I am trembling slightly, whatever this situation is I know it isn't good.
As the thing starts walking in front of the light that comes from the window I start to think of a way out of this, maybe I can break the wood of the wall behind me, or maybe I could just explode a fireball ahead of me and burn the room or building. I can deal with whatever injury I get later-
Then the light illuminated its hands and I forgot to even breathe.
The sleeves of the cloak not long enough to cover his wrists and hands. Dried skin that seems to have been eroded by time on nailless fingers. The decayed skin that had fallen off as if scraped off, let me see right up to eerie gray bone in some places. As it advanced and the light illuminated higher features of it I felt terror beginning to overwhelm me. An open throat and a bulb that may be a dried tongue hanging from a jawless face.
At just a couple meters away from me, I am shaking completely but have no time to see more as it suddenly appears in front of me. A skeletal hand grabbing the top of my head and empty eye sockets staring at me as if they could gaze to the depths of my soul.
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A noble blood sacrifice
A confident young man with a well paying job, worries about his mother and two sisters when he's away at work. They are constantly harassed and bullied by the community who accuse them of practicing witchcraft. His father was a known witch, but he made money for a lot people. Since his death the family business has dwindled. And so have the friendships. The family has had to adapt in some conventional ways, along with some questionable ones too. Leaving us to question if wrong can be right and if some wrongs are really wrong at all.
8 92The Forsaken America
The year is 3007. Earth has been divided into two super continents; Beauland, and The Forsaken America. Beauland was formed by the users of Xenopram; a drug that makes one immortal, but impotent. These people call themselves 'Eternals', and have deemed all mortal as 'The Rotten Evil', condeming them all to death and exile. The Forsaken America is a nuclear wasteland home to foul raiders, murderous cannibals, and an evergrowing presence of Beauland's government, The Eternal Protectors. This is a tale of two perspectives. The first is of KC Homstov, a Rotten Evil women who must escape the tyrannical Beauland due to an unwanted pregnancy. The second is of an immortal man with no name wandering the barren wastes of The Forsaken America in a strenuos fight for survival.
8 226His Unknown Wife
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8 94Naruto - Gamer Tai
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8 135Miraculous Spider Man
Jarrin Wright was a nobody. He was a simple cog in the wheel. No he was not even a cog he was screw that fell out of the machine, and the machine kept on going like nothing has ever happened. Let just say that he felt like his life was meaningless. He had no friends, His parents were disappointed in in him and most importantly he thought he was a failure. The only light in Jarrin life was comic books, Like DC and Marvel. Ever since he was young he use to dream of being a hero in one of the stories he read. One day he gets that chance unfortunately he dies. The gods take pity on young Wright and transmigrate him into the body of and alternate younger version of himself. He soon realize he came to the DC universe but it is different from the one he knows. The major difference is that he gets bitten by a radioactive spider on a field trip to Oscop. You see where I am going with this. Jarrin decides that now that he has a second chance he is going to things differently he going to live his life to the fullest" I am going to do better.... I am going to be better.... I am going to be the Miraculous Spiderman."
8 95"I'm Fine" || TomTord Fanfic
-After The End- Tord, he's different. he's changed. after the giant robot explosion, be felt nothing but guilt, pain, and depression. he spin, twirled, spiraled, into the storm of his emotional health. he wanted forgiveness, but didn't want them to feel empathy. WARNING: This story has: cutting, suicidal thoughts, anorexia, panic attacks, cussing and attempting of suicide. if you don't like any of this topics at all, do not read the story.thank you.
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