Magic Breaker [Enby MC Anti-Mage LitRPG]

I walk forward slowly, ants streaming around my legs, a parting river of chitin. None touch me, and I’m grateful. I don’t want to be touched, for a little while. The feeling of my shoes is already bad enough, though it’s better than bare feet on stone. Slowly, I kneel by the massive warrior’s side.

Elis weakly turns her head to meet my eyes, chittering an unsure groan. Her wounds look even worse from up close. There are dozens of tiny bites, each leaking purple, and multiple more large rents in the carapace. The ant is, and must have been for a while, dying. Infection clings to the wounds, feeding off the warrior.

Meg kneels next to me, bending all four of her legs. She turns her insectoid head towards me, and despite the lack of expression on her face, I can feel the worry off of her. “Can you?” she asks.

“Dunno,” I answer honestly. “I’ll try, but before I do, I need to be completely honest. I’ve never used my healing skill on anything that’s not humanoid. It worked on Richard, but it’s limited. I can’t yet give Sylves her arm back. I don’t know how well it’ll work on ants. If a cast fails, there’s a good chance of making a wound worse.”

The hive queen draws in a sharp breath. “I see,” she says. 

“That doesn’t mean it’s hopeless,” I say. “I’d just rather try it first on some ants that are at less danger of dying if I mess up.”

She nods, slowly, and I move until I sit next to a worker with a few smaller cuts in the underside of her carapace. This new ant looks at me soundlessly, clicking her mandibles a few times. I just wait as Meg talks to her. Pheromones are still beyond my understanding.

Eventually, the hive queen turns to me. “She is willing,” she says.

I nod. On the walk, I regenerated a good chunk of mana. Some of it went to my wounds, but a good amount of it is still in my core. Now, it’s time to put it to use. I [Select] the ant, focusing on the wounds, and get to work.

The world drains away a bit as I focus. I take a breath. [Flesh Restoration] activates slowly, almost sluggish, like a hibernating bear. It licks at the wounds in the carapace, and tells me that it’s not flesh. I assure the skill that it is.

We have a little debate, and the mana takes some coaxing to take hold.

Instantly, the carapace rips open. The ant writhes in agony, and Meg looks horrified. Ichor leaks out of it. Hmmmm, not that kinda modification, then. I give a soft sigh, pulling on [Deconstruction] to aid me with this.

A half-cast of [Flesh Restoration] that I take apart with my own skill lets me identify a few issues. I nod, affirmed in what I need to do, and modify the pattern of the skill. Fewer loops in the spiral, more arching branches. Trade depth for breadth, just for now. I hold it in my mind, and cast it again. The carapace mends shut, but the injured flesh underneath does not.

I stab a needle of mana in, letting the ichor escape instead of building up. More modifications, and the spongy flesh beneath is knitting back up, too. I hum, displeased. “This one’s healed,” I announce. “Let me try on another.”

Meg stares at me, somewhere between impressed and horrified. Despite that, she wordlessly leads me to another ant. This one heals without trouble. One more, where I make things a lot worse before stitching it back up again.

It’s almost fun. Would it help to take apart a dead ant? I’d probably understand their anatomy better. Ah, the look on the queen’s face tells me not to try it. No, I’ll just learn with trial and error. I wish I had my headphones, but my phone’s out. The thought tastes bitter, but I focus.

Another explosion of ichor leaking from an ant’s side. But I close the wounds back up. Looks of fear and admiration are leveraged against me, but none of them matter. After my third mishap, I don’t make any more. When I’ve healed up three ants in a row without a mistake, I stretch. That should do.

[Flesh Restoration 5 > 6] 

My skill agrees, apparently, and I kneel down next to the warrior ant, Elis. She looks at me again. I tilt my head. Her face is… unusually blank. 

When I [Select] her, I’m curious, so I try to find out how she’s feeling, and there is just grim resolve. Ah. She thinks I might kill her. I smile a little. I could. Should I? 

No. Gingerly, I reach out a hand, tracing the wounds in her carapace. The ant stares at me. I cast a heal, pressing the formation to give it more depth, to accept more mana and do more with it, to be more efficient. The skill bubbles against the flesh, fizzling and hissing, then splutters out.

I hum in thought. How curious. I pull out my mana crystal. “Meg? Have your children fill this, please. They can transmit their mana to me that way, and I’ll need a lot of it.”

This is gonna be a long day.