Magic Breaker [Enby MC Anti-Mage LitRPG]

Norman has been to the third floor.

There’s a specific reason why he went up and came back. I asked for countermeasures on the storm, spending a minor request, and the tower told him that there were ones to find up there.

He has sold his requests for a very specific kind of artefact. Not heating ones, but something else entirely. He hands it to me. Something he traded a lesser request for. Three minor ones. And I hold that tiny thing in my hands.

It’s our ticket out of here. I know the others are freezing inside. I know they can probably barely remember me right now. The only reason Norman isn’t forgetting about me is because I’m right in front of him.

Already, I can feel the channels for that enchantment burning up. It was never meant for permanent usage, and between Norman activating it and now me, it’s running hot. Luckily, there’s a whole storm of ice to cool it back down. 

I breathe in the cold air, and feel all that terrible ice disappear once it reaches my chest. I look at the tiny thing in my hands. And I look at Norman. “Any trouble?” I ask.

“Some,” he says with a shrug, rubbing his shoulders. “I forgot how dang cold it is here.”

“Is the third floor more pleasant?” I ask.

“It’s warmer for sure,” he replies. “No less troublesome.”

Of course it wouldn’t be. But that’s fine. It had what we needed. “Any other factions we need to tackle?”

He raises an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think so,” he says. “There are some who tried to fleece me, but nothing that would mean we need to take revenge.”

I narrow my eyes a little. “They put the lives of my friends on the line.”

Norman gives me a long look, then an icy sigh. “Look, Snow. I’m freezing. I want to get out of here again. Even another minute in this storm will be too much. Just go.” He glances in the direction of the hut of corpses. “Make sure Inu and Jess come out of this alive. That it was worth it.”

Frowning a little, I rise to my feel. Warmth courses through me, fed by the cloak I enchanted. I pour more mana into it, fully activating each of the [Inscriptions], and the item flares to life. It hums and buzzes against my shoulders, the fabric billowing in the winds of the icy storm, keeping it off me entirely.

And the system knows it’s a masterpiece.

[Inscription 9 > 11]

[Congratulations!]

[Advancement achievement completed! Your masterpiece is accepted. You may now change your job.]

Very gently, I push the notification aside. There will be enough time for that once I’m out of this damn storm. It wouldn’t do to let my friends freeze to death. I take another breath, draw the cloak tight around me, nod at Norman, and walk outside.

- - -

Freezing winds. That’s all this world is. Icy cold, cutting winds, and the kind of wet snow that soaks through your clothes, chilling you to your bones. It’s bitterly cold, and I can feel the terrible storm biting at my lips.

The wind howls outside, and I’m entirely sure it’s not just the wind. It’s the fae, too. Spectres of ice, stalking through the storm. When everyone in that building died, it was finally the right time for us to move. 

Norman had gotten the cloak from me on the twenty-sixth day, letting him get to the third floor. He needed to be above the second threshold for that, of course. But we’d gotten him there. With [Unassuming Presence] and the mantle I’d made, as well as my help, he was able to kill enough of the fae to advance.

His epitaph was one of power. Movement and stealth. Being glanced over and forgotten.

So, he was able to escape. And then, when the bloodbath happened, he was able to pass the mantle to me, unnoticed by the distracted fae. And now, I held the little cube he’d given me.

Icy wind nips at my skin, but the heat from the cloak wards it off. I’d wanted to enchant it a bit differently at first, but this was fine. The inscriptions are based on a mix of Norman’s stealth skill, Jess’ skills for freezing and flames, and finally, a bit of Sylves’ fae-powers, as well as all the heating artefacts I’d analysed. In effect, the wielder was shielded from cold, hidden from cold, harder to notice, and welcome with the fae.

That’s why the storm can’t see me.

I am a guest, right now. And since I can endure the cold, the fae can’t lay a hand on me, hardly even knowing where I am. Of course, the guest-thing only works if they can’t see me, but with the other inscriptions, that’s possible. Just for a little while.

A small smile on my face, I venture into the storm. 

Ice batters against me, winds slamming into the dim cloak as mana boiled through it. My vessel is being drained, bit by bit, burning power to keep the enchantments going, but that’s fine. It was hard, but the less mana I have, the harder I am to notice. 

The fae wanted to devour us for our heat and our life. Fuck them. We’re gonna live. No matter what.

Step by step, I walk further into the storm.

It grows colder with every moment. Sleet falls onto me, and the ground is covered in heavy snow, making each step difficult. The storm is so heavy that it took only minutes for my footsteps to be erased, and it’s impossible to tell where I’m going through the thick fog.

Wails crash against my ears from the fae, trapped in the torrent of ice and death. They scream in hunger, seeking out more mortals to devour. The storm is hungry, and running from it was usually possible, if only there weren’t some delicious bait with us.

I breathe the frigid air, feeling my skin freeze over for a moment before resplendent heat leaches from the enchantments and into me, warming me back up. My shoes crunch down on snow, socks long since soaked through, but it’s just water.

Bit by bit, I drag myself deeper into the icy storm. The sleet intensifies, turning to ice. Thin, angry needles, prickling against my skin as they melt. Each one makes me feel the hunger rumbling through me, the fact that I haven’t eaten in days, but I [Suppress] it. More mana flows from my vessel.

And yet, there’s more. So much more. The stat is my highest by far, and empowered by my epitaph… I can keep going. I’ve even prepared bits of solidified mana to deconstruct and feed into my Abiding Apathy, allowing myself to keep marching.

So I keep going. Even when the wails make my ears bleed. Even when icy claws brush by only centimeters from me, forcing me to duck away. Even as more and more icy wraiths drift through the mist, where a single touch could bring down hundreds on me. 

Enchantments burn against my skin, the cloak overloaded by the mana coursing through it. I can feel it fraying, just slightly, knowing that it would break if I took too long. Frowning, I march on faster.

The ground turns from snow to full ice. It’s so cold that the grass turns into a perfect sheet of white. It’s the slipper kind of ice, but also with enough pointy bits that make it easy to break my skull if I slipped. But I don’t slip.

I walk on, and on, and on. Hearing the horrible wails, gritting my teeth and bearing with it. I walk, and walk, and walk, until I feel the enchantment in my cloak splutter.

Just once, it flickers.

A thousand wraiths turn their noses to me. Dreadful hunger mixes with the smell of blood in the air. I can hear the telltale clacking of claws on ice coming towards me.

Moving swiftly, I duck forward, running a few steps, making it just a bit farther. It’s now or never, then.

As the hungry wraiths stalk towards me, I place down the cube Norman gave me. My mana flares to life again, my vessel slowly emptying out, but I course it through the little device, anyway. 

It glows, humming to life, even as the ice clings to it. 

Then, the little cube ignites.

White light flows off of it, soothing my aches and the chill, but, most importantly, flowing outwards. A gentle, yellow-white wave flows through the entire storm, over the wraiths, into the snow, underneath the ice.

For a moment, the world goes silent. 

Then, it’s filled with abominable howls. 

After all, the cube is bait. Meant to attract the storm and feed it while we get out of there. And with every single starving monster within a few kilometres stalking towards me, I start running.