Magic Breaker [Enby MC Anti-Mage LitRPG]

By the time the others come back out of the maze to the edge of the grove, we’re covered in soot. Bay’s hands and face are stained with oil, and so are mine from taking apart more of the maze. Thatch pointed out interesting sections with his eyes. Bay [Deactivated] the most fragile components. Then I took them apart, and we fell onto the parts like rabid beasts.

Bay already got the job, way before I picked up mine. It’s okay. I’m too happy with to care at all. Thatch doesn’t pick up a job quite yet, but I can tell he’s gotten close. I wonder what flavour he’ll want?

Jess, Norman and Amelie come back out with classes, and everyone’s levels are higher. By now, all of us except Bay have a class. Me, Bay and Sylves have jobs, too. I’ll let the others decide for themselves what they want to do. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.

For now, I’m rather pleased with my progress. When I look at the sky, I find that most of the day has faded, but it’s not been without gains. We’ve torn down twelve sections of wall. Bay fashioned herself a gauntlet of whirring gears that makes a noise as if it could tear her arm off.

Whenever she sends a pulse into it, the thing extends a set of nasty claws rather quickly. It’s a terrifying construction, and I don’t think I’d wanna take a hit from it.

I love it.

“You look like shit,” Opal informs me, helpfully. 

They do have a point. I was wearing my headphones over the burnt side of my face, and it took a good bit of water to wash the dried blood off of them without damaging them. Now, they’re safely tucked away in my backpack again. “Yeah,” I reply, simply.

Looking at my skills, I think it’s worth it.

[Inscription 1 > 2]

[Inscription 2 > 3]

[Job up! Enchanter 2 > 4]

The extra points in vessel help me regenerate my mana just a little bit faster, so I pour another bit into the healing spell. By now, after casting it a few more times over the course of the day, whenever I had mana to spare, my face is looking a little better. Not good, not even close. But better.

I’m still blind in one eye, though, and I don’t think that’ll change soon. It makes the whole “carving inscriptions” bit harder. That’s fine, too. I don’t mind the challenge. Slowly, I let my manic focus on enchanting fade. It was fun, really. There is some very satisfying joy to be won from carving enchantments. A little like drawing, back when I did more of that.

Not that I’ve made something useful quite yet, but that’s okay. My next essence packet is coming in a single level, but I hold off from practicing more. I take a breath, sit back, and focus on surviving. It’s evening, and Richard seems at her highest awareness.

She sits down next to me, giving a small sigh. I tilt my head a little at the gesture. “Tired,” she says. I tilt my head more, and she gives a wry smile. “People tired.”

Ah. That makes sense. I nod, then look away, letting the Hiy’ht recover her social battery in peace. Dar is asking Opal to spar, and the enby agrees with a reluctant sigh. I can see that they want to, though. Bay ruffles Thatch’s hair as he works through some more mechanical bits. 

I see Amelie shift her focus from her puppets, now a pile of armor and a vine made from machine gears and interlocking scales and plates, to her strings in general. She sits in her wheelchair and slowly weaves them, creating interlocking bits of fabric.

Sylves floats in the air, stitching cloth together, and throwing glances at whatever the girl in the wheelchair is doing. She’s probably hungry for more fabric, I note, so if Amelie could make more… well. I’m sure Sylves would be rather happy.

Then there’s Norman and Jess, who are trying out their new class abilities. Norman fades from my view, and Jess actually seems to pull a ball of fire from thin air, having it float just slightly above her hand. Huh.

Inu also moves to sit down next to me, looking up into the sky. She doesn’t say anything. Just looks up, at the eyes and the stars behind them. Slowly, I open my mouth to talk. “Long day?” I ask.

She hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head. “No, actually,” she says. “That’s what scares me. It went by so fast. I almost had fun in there. Breaking the robots.”

“Scared?” I ask.

“Ah. It makes me feel… unkind,” she says.

I nod. “Yeah, I get that.”

She snickers, laughing a little. “You would,” she says. Then, she lets out a long, quiet sigh. “Yeah, you would.”

“You’re a kind person, Inu,” I tell her. 

“How would you know?” she smirks. It’s bait. She just wants to hear it, and that’s okay.

I smile, just a little. “Well. My first skill was [Suppression], right? Remind me what yours was?”

Faintly, her lips curl. “Empathy.”

“Yeah,” I say. “You care. You make an effort to keep others comfortable. You want people to be safe, and you try to keep them safe. That’s kind, isn’t it?”

A long moment passes quietly. “Yeah,” she sigh and pouts. “I suppose it is.” She nods, then takes another pause. “Can I have a hug?”

“Sure,” I say. Gently, I wrap my arms around her. She leans into me, and I hold her for a little while.

The apocalypse is difficult. For her more than for me, probably. But she’s trying. She really is. The moments tick by. Eventually, she pulls back, crossing her legs, looking at the star-studded, Eye-covered sky. Then, I ask.

“What job are you planning on getting?” I ask.

“It’s silly,” she says.

“Then I wanna know even more.” I smirk.

Inu rolls her eyes at me, then sighs playfully. “Fine. Therapist.”

“Huh?” 

She turns a bit red. “Therapist. That’s… that’s gotta be a job, right? Surely. It’s a path, meant to do a thing that helps others and-”

“It’s awesome,” I tell her. The words are so genuine that she pauses. 

“What?”

“It’s awesome,” I repeat. “And a great goal. I think you got this.”

She just looks at me for a bit, then turns away. “Thanks,” she says, eventually. “What do you think is next?” she asks.

“We hide,” I say. “Spend the night here, hope none of the descenders catch us, and we see what the next stage of integration is about.”

Slowly, Inu nods. “Okay,” she says. “I can do that.”

“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll keep everyone safe.”

“What if I’m worrying about you, too?” she asks.

I smirk. “Then that’d make you a rather kind person.”

She laughs. Out loud, happily, for a long moment. “You’re such an idiot, Snow.”

“One tries,” I say, smiling. Then the expression slowly fades. “One tries.” Because effort is all I can give.