Magic Breaker [Enby MC Anti-Mage LitRPG]

I feel Sylves’ authority wrap around me, a binding chain that vanishes a moment later, when her finger crashes against me. Instantly, the bargain gets resolved. And my mana spills out.

The winds rise. They pick up fire. And then they rise some more. 

Heat streams along the gusts of wind, the magical flames fed plenty of Oxygen. They evaporate the water from the grass underneath, and then that, too, catches fire. I see some of the pines begin to smoke, the ice turning to vapour in seconds. I laugh, even as the fire brushes my skin, and everyone else.

[Level Up! 86 > 87]

My mantle comes into being, and shields me from the roughest parts. I wrap myself in [Suppression], weakening the heat, until it feels like I’m in an oven instead of the centre of a roaring bonfire. I hear nothing over the screaming fire and wind, and the mana is so dense I can hardly see through it with [Observation].

Smoke and heat consume the entire world for a dozen seconds - then they burn themselves out. By the end of it, Coldscar’s gone. Inu and Opal are covered in tiny bits of frostbite, and Thatch has half his skin cracked and flaking. Trey’s teeth are clattering, and Kuro hangs around his shoulders defeatedly.

But the blizzard around us has stopped. And, even hurt, we keep running towards the tree. And, with Coldscar beaten away for a moment, I can dispel the stupid fishbowl around my head. Even though it was really, really funny. “Alright,” I say out loud, then cough a bit from the remaining smoke and giggle. “Let’s book it.”

- - -

The tree is even taller from up close. The weather around us has intensified, but Coldscar doesn’t come back. Richard shivers occasionally, and I let her eat spheres made from solid mana, to feed the flames a little. Sylves, too, looks shaken. A bit of ice still clings to all of us, stubbornly refusing to disappear.

Coldscar’s power really is vicious. I can feel it trying to burrow into me, barely kept at bay by a boundary of my own mana and heating runes under my skin.

[Core Controller 11 > 12]

Even after all of that, I still have mana to spare. My vessel generates it almost endlessly, and is already halfway filled again. I have so much to play around with that even after spending so much, I’m still experimenting. Improving my skills as we walk on, striving to be as efficient as I can, and preparing.

Runes grow underneath my skin, nascent ones I don’t activate. Just in case. The cold is growing stronger as we walk further, but nothing like when we fought Coldscar. Trey sticks close to Richard and slowly warms up. 

I focus my eyes on the gigantic tree in front of us. “So, does anyone else see a door?” I ask.

Thatch shakes his head. “No, but it is hollow-”

“Oh I see a door alright,” Opal says with a smug grin. I tilt my head, thinking about their lack of sensory abilities for about half a second before it clicks. My eyes widen in suspicion, and they blink forward. Then, their sword stabs into the thick bark, carving a deep scar into it, far deeper than it has any right to be.

Space itself hums around their sword, screeching softly when they carve through the wood. Another five slices and a brutal kick, and a rectangular sheet of bark falls inwards. Instantly, warm air hits my face, and I take another deep breath. 

“They’re close,” Inu whispers, then hurries us inside. Trey shivers and stumbles as he walks, his shoes soaked through with icy wetness. Anny grits her teeth, cloaked and hidden, while Bofoy’s fur is covered in a layer of ice. Even Isabelle, the most resilient out of them, is shivering by this point.

I wonder if my skin would already be dying without my heating runes. Something to keep in mind.

The inside of the tree is a gigantic, open hall of wood. Its walls are those of the tree itself, growing upwards almost endlessly. Vines stretch along the walls, and long, flat branches for a staircase up the side of the tree. Mana pulses through the ground beneath me, and it feels almost… alive.

I lock eyes with Sylves, and she grins, then nods. A small shiver runs up my back, even as the faerie floats upwards. “Come on!” she calls. “Move!”

With her words, we start our best impression of a mad dash up the walls. But when we’re only about halfway, I hear the telltale fluttering of dark wings. Looking down, I see the light and snow spill in from the doorway Opal carved - Raven and their posse standing inside. The gang boss fixes a dark gaze upon us and I grimace, summoning my lovely fishbowl again.

Forced to rely on [Observation], I let the pulses of mana guide my feet up and up the stairs. Running as fast as is reasonable - until black feathers shoot our way. Some of them are heading right for Trey.

With a soft sigh, I decide then. To do the right thing once more. 

With a deep breath, I launch my full combo. [Observation] to find the feathers. Then, [Selection] latches onto them. [Suppression] flows along those tethers, slowing them, weakening them, turning them fragile. And then, finally, [Deconstruction]. 

Two dozen midnight feathers crumble to dust in the air before me. Mana burns its way through me, carving channels through my muscles. I hiss in pain, but my spell takes hold, and Raven’s attack crumbles apart. And I hear a surprised and annoyed hum from them.

“Who in the seven hells are you even, fishbowl?” they hiss at me, their hackles rising.

I smile in my fishbowl, refusing to give an answer. Instead, I draw upon more and more mana, summoning a hail of needles around me, as a tether slowly presses forward. It’s sneaky, hidden by [Obfuscation] and the mana that spreads. 

Needles crash into feathers. Cleaver rampages up the stairs, only to be torn into by Thatch. Coldscar huddles behind Raven, the man’s skin covered in criss-crossing burns. Opal teleports down, their sword humming through the air at the zoof. Inu stands in front of me when the old woman raises her cane, a ray of light ricocheting off her armor and exploding against the bark, and Sylves shoots arrows at Dove again, dodging his flying knives.

Raven growls, their dark cloak spreading wide, stygian wings beating once, then twice as they rise into the air. “No matter,” they hum. “I will carve Kuro apart!” 

With a vicious motion, they shoot towards Trey again, currently wearing my mantle. Ah. How troublesome. 

My tether latches on. [Selection] finds Raven, and I smile, softly. They’re a rogue. Letting me find them so easily was their first mistake. I raise my remaining arm, my missing finger still bleeding faintly, a layer of frost covering it, and [Deconstruction] rips out of me.

It’s a violent, brutalist version of the spell. There’s at least three skills that Raven is activating, and I aim for all of them at once. My spell slams into them with such violence that their feather-mantle twists in on itself, one of their wings breaking and shredding, sending them into a spiral. 

Broken bits of mana fill my vessel, and I smile gently. A blink later, I feel Raven split apart into a hundred little presences, and a flock of Ravens spreads through the open chamber. Explosions surround me, and I duck underneath a violent swing from Cleaver. A dark feather shoots through my shoulder a moment later, leaving a clean hole, gushing blood.

I smile faintly. 

Adrenaline courses through my veins alongside the pain. My head is covered by a stupid fishbowl, but once again, life has become so simple. No hiding, no waiting, no more posturing. Just gotta win.

In a single heartbeat, I split my mind. The attunement loop on my vessel loosens. I’m already down to a third of my mana, but it’s still enough to kill me outright. I grin as the magical power pours from me, and disable the cruncher. My bones turn lighter, and I breathe easier.

Ravens charge at me like bullets, their beaks seeking my flesh, and my needles form around me as a swarm of bees. Long, thin mana spins around me, gaining speed, whirling through the air, and the ravens meet them in a flurry of violence. Blood gushes from wings, feathers clatter to the ground, claws and beaks tear at my skin.

Crimson liquid spills from my veins, watering the wood beneath me. I can feel the ancient tree groan as warm red feeds it. But I don’t stop. [Selection] is still active - and I pour a torrent of mana down that way, [Suppressing] Raven. 

The flock slows. Their little wings weaken, and my needles tear through them. Instantly, the leader of Aviary changes tactics. The swarm pulls away from me, tearing upwards, towards Trey, Anna, Jean, Isabelle, and Bofoy. 

Ah. Not so simple, after all. Tragic. 

I sprint up the stairs as fast as my feet will carry me, the tower quivering around me. Ravens tear at me as I move, beaks digging little holes all across me. It hurts, but I don’t slow, not even for a moment. My [Suppression] field intensifies, little knots forming alongside it as I latch onto the ravens, weakening them until their wings don’t beat and they fall from the sky.

[Class up! Vesselsmith 11 > 12]

More mana pours into me from the sudden level. I smile happily, intensifying my efforts. A dark bird flies at Trey, and Anna steps forward. It slows, and the girl grimaces as she slashes out with a shortsword, cleaving off the bird’s wing, and making it explode into a puff of inanimate feathers. 

And then, Thatch crashes into me, tossed by clever. Both of us sprawl out on the branch, and again, my fishbowl-helmet cracks. A moment later, my bestial friend is up, claws digging into the wood as he races down the side of the wall. I smile, and get up myself, using small motions. Efficiently.

Raven’s authority wraps itself around me like chains of barbed wire. It’s cold and cutting and horrible. I see it touch on the others, running ahead, slowing them down, and I see how Kuro boils against them, shadows spreading out and crawling outwards. What a loyal critter. Go get ‘em.

My own movements remain small. Efficient. I’m wrapped in barbed wire, but it’s superficial. A wrap.

I don’t move my arms. I don’t even move my legs. I stand still as a statue, my face impassive, calm, underneath that bowl. And Raven sneers at me. “That’s right, bitch. Crawl back into whatever hole you crawled out of. Don’t get between me and Kuro - that is personal!” they demand, their swarm flocking upwards.

But I’m not done. No, I’m far from done. 

[Selection 28 > 29]

Tethers sprout from me like blossoming flowers. I fully drop my attunement loop, finally unsealing what remains of my mana. It almost kills me. Blood pours from my eyes, filling the fishbowl, and I still smile. 

Mana turns solid, into pale-blue needles. Then, one after another, the swarm turns grey. One, two, half a dozen, two dozen… the brilliant blue of my solid mana is stained as I imbue them. [Deconstruction] and [Suppression] weave themselves into my constructs.

Already, the needles start falling apart. But despite that, they buzz with power. And all at once, I focus.

[Job up! Core Controller 12 > 13]

My job is meant to be one that deals with complex mana structures and lattices. That allows me to modify enchantments, to create mana-storage devices and integrate them properly. Well, right now, I’m not doing that. Instead, I’m using it to fuck with [Selection].

[Selection 29 > 30]

Each tether suddenly twists in on itself. Instead of connecting me to something else, I sever that connection - and tie it to my floating needles. I create self-sufficient systems. Needles that are connected to some of Raven’s many bodies. And I smile, happily, when it works. My will leads them on much more easily, and my swarm of needles crashes forward.

“Eat anti-magic, Raven,” I whisper to myself.

With just a little bit of bleeding from my eyes, I’ve turned my needles homing.