Magic Breaker [Enby MC Anti-Mage LitRPG]

A lot.

What I learn is a lot. 

The first tidbit is that I don’t get hungry. Something about this space makes it so I don’t need too many calories, mostly supplemented by my [Restoration] spell. It’s weird in the way that it ticks - when fixing wounds it consumes calories, but when there are no wounds to be addressed, it seems to supplement them? What a flexible working. I should praise whoever designed it.

But that is not where most of my improvement comes from.

I don’t see many skill levels, in fact, it’s just one. 

[Observation 6 > 7]

That’s the only concrete level. My vessel is overflowing with mana, and the pain decreases slightly as time goes on. It’s a weird thing, feeling it fade when there is still just enough mana, but when I check my stat screen, I see that my heart has grown by another two points at the end of the week, which is nice. Free stats are always lovely. 

What the system does not record is Kuro’s growth, and the understanding that has blossomed between us. I reach out, gently touching the thread of shadow between us. It’s funny, the way essence works, really.

I was granted knowledge - or, well, a talent, really - for weaving moonlight by the silver lake. Now, here I am, twisting that ability. Kuro draws a thread of shadow from the gloom that suffuses this glum city, and under the watchful Eye of the Creeping Darkness, I weave it into the band. 

There’s a bracelet of threads hanging from my wrist. It’s a little wide, sitting loose, and its touch is so faint I can hardly feel it if I don’t focus on it. Which is wonderful. But what it does is enhance my connection to Kuro. 

By now, I can intuit their emotions and gestures a lot better. They resonate with the bracelet, and some kind of bond we have forged. The critter is attached to me, and seems to quite like me, too. Sometimes, they walk around as a squishy centipede, and other times as a blob of tendrils. It’s kind of cute, seeing them shift and experiment with their body.

We practiced interweaving our skills, too. I deconstructed theirs a hundred times over, and fed them mana from my overflowing vessel. That is another benefit of the bracelet; it easily lets my power flow down that shadowy tendril and into my companion. 

And yet, we are not quite done.

Oh, sure, the bracelet is, but there are still a few minutes left in this gloomy place. Which means, there is one more thing I need to do. Slowly, I take a deep breath.

“Hey, Creeping Darkness?” I ask, quietly. It’s among the very few words I’ve spoken in this time, so the Eye snaps to me, showing its attention. I know it’s watching. So, I have a request. “Could you close your Eye for a bit?”

There’s a pause. With my upgraded [Observation] I think there might be a tremor in its pupil. But that’s okay. I just wait. This is its choice to make. And so I leave it to make that choice.

[The Creeping Darkness inquires as to the purpose. It wants to ensure that Kuro won’t be harmed.]

I nod. That’s a reasonable concern, though it’s also incredibly insulting. It makes me reconsider this next step. It makes me bristle and want to grow vines. But I do my best to let it pass, and simply take another deep breath.

“You’ll have to trust me,” I say. “That’s my requirement.”

Of course, if it were any other Eye, I’d have no business negotiating. They’d want to smite me down the second I got mouthy, and yet, this strange critter has observed me play and practice with my shadowy friend for a while, now. So, I can see it listening. The Eye seems like a bit of a sentimental creature, after all.

Slowly, the seconds trickle by. Until there’s only a minute left in the trial.

And then, ever so slowly, the sky changes. I see the dark firmament closing around the eye, the space itself stitching together. Its lids slowly grow closer, then shut entirely, and for the first time since the end of the world, I am unobserved. Just me and Kuro.

Slowly, a smile spreads across my face. After all, the Darkness has decided to trust me. The same kind of unexplained trust that my friends have shown me.

I started with two skills. [Suppression] and [Selection]. Those two dictate who I am as a person. And they came with their intended uses, ones I was incredibly aware of. Slowly, I take a breath.

Then, with thirty seconds left, I activate [Selection]

For the first time since the end of the world, I use the skill for one of its intended uses. I use it for the thing that meant it was granted to me.

[Selection] wraps around Kuro, around this shadow critter I have only known for a few months now, and yet, it has never betrayed me. Animals are easy like that. Trustworthy, and open. They don’t lie, they’re honest, and so, Kuro deserves it.

I select them as a friend.

[Selection 11 > 15]

The use changes the skill profoundly. It’s like finally using a fork to eat after trying to stab someone to death with it for months. The intended usage passes over me, and burrows inside the Abiding Apathy. My skill acknowledges my choice, and I look at Kuro, at my new friend.

From my shadow, two big eyes look back at me. Cute, friendly, entirely trusting. Willing to go full on ride or die with me.

I smile. “You and me, buddy. Let’s show this tower what we’re made of.”

[Challenge completed. Ascend.]

And then, the trial ends, and I appear on the third floor.