You flinch when the punch is thrown; cold sweat rolls down your chin... he’s going for your stomach! You cry and, in panic, you infuse your blanket with your magic once more to hurl it directly towards Labrys’ father’s face. It slaps across and covers his head and begins to rapidly strangle him...

Those precious second are enough to lean away and dodge his attack. The knuckles of the man crash upon the glistering crystal surface of the chamber. There is a loud ringing and echoing crack as pieces of crystal downpour upon the same gemstone soil. The destroyed wall quickly rejuvenates as the man slowly turns to face you. However, a split quickly forms and grows from between his finger, across his arm and then all over his body. His skin and flesh alter into a polished aquamarine semiprecious stone, just like your “mother” beforehand. His monolid eyes, angry and owlish, turn into an empty glass before his entire body is changed back into a crystal monolith. You step back as it begins to change again...

~ That... is... enough! ~

A familiar noise comes to you from beneath – or perhaps even behind – the thick layer of crystal walls. The figure, barely formed into its new malformed outward appearance, reaches for you but then cracks. A single, but massive, quake booms across the chamber forcing an uncanny ringing cacophony to explode all around you. You cover your eyes as the disarray of blinding azure lights begins to travel across the surfaces of the chamber in a chaotic pattern. When it calms, you open your eyes to find the cavern hollow changed. It is yet still made entirely out of mirror-like glassy precious stones and ores but, this time, the bluish glow is much dimmer, if not outright vanquished. Alice, Labrys and Jeane are seen.

With a loud and tired groan, Alice falls on her knees before a collapsed and destroyed pile of crystals much alike the pillar you have been dealing with moments beforehand. Her bright eyes shimmer from blue to red as she gasps tirelessly for breath. Her immense and blazing mana skin, like a ghost, lifts off her shoulders and disappears into the natural mana. She clenches her fists and – clumsily – she reaches for her rucksack to take out a bottle of mana and hungrily gulp it down. Inside the stack of debris you notice and feel and see a shard – a piece of three – exuding a large amount of dangerous magic. You glance at Labrys who immediately hastens towards Jeane. The girl is crying; her face is deathly pale...

“Sweet Jeane?” he squats before the bawling companion, “It’s... You shouldn’t worry... It doesn’t matter what you have seen, it is not real...”

“He hates me,” tears conceal her fawn eyes and stream down her cheeks. Her body is shuddering as if she was just caught in a winter snowstorm.

“I’m telling you, charming Jeane; it was not your beloved.”

“It was him!” she screams, only to wrap herself like a cocoon, “He hates that I joined the Magic Knights, he thinks I am annoying and clingy... He is the happiest right now when I am far away from him, he’ll be happy if I never come back from Y’ere. He... It was him... he told me all of that.”

> Approach Jeane and offer her one of the pills provided to you by Captain Charlotte; if it’s a curse, then that’s the easiest way to deal with it.
> Approach Jeane and offer to heal her using your healing spells. She might not have any wounds, but your Homely Blanket is also comforting.
> “It was not Myles, Jeane. I saw my mother... and she is long dead. You should not worry; it is just some kind of trickery to deceive you.”
> Check on Alice to see if she is okay. If she is injured, offer to heal her. For certain, it appears – despite having mana of a noble – she is low.
> Approach the cluster of crystals and take the strange object left by the destruction of the shape-shifting magical pillar.
> [Write In]

>>4535720
> “It was not Myles, Jeane. I saw my mother... and she is long dead. You should not worry; it is just some kind of trickery to deceive you.”

>>4535720
>Approach Jeane and offer her one of the pills provided to you by Captain Charlotte; if it’s a curse, then that’s the easiest way to deal with it.
> “It was not Myles, Jeane. I saw my mother... and she is long dead. You should not worry; it is just some kind of trickery to deceive you.”

>>4535720
>>Approach Jeane and offer her one of the pills provided to you by Captain Charlotte; if it’s a curse, then that’s the easiest way to deal with it.
>> “It was not Myles, Jeane. I saw my mother... and she is long dead. You should not worry; it is just some kind of trickery to deceive you.”

>Approach Jeane and offer her one of the pills provided to you by Captain Charlotte; if it’s a curse, then that’s the easiest way to deal with it.
> “It was not Myles, Jeane. I saw my mother... and she is long dead. You should not worry; it is just some kind of trickery to deceive you.”

You carefully approach the backpack Alice has been carrying with her before shoving your hand inside. Alice’s head turns swiftly – like an owl – as her simmering from crimson to blue eyes look at you. She grabs and slaps your hand away seconds after you manage to grab the curse pills.

“What are you doing?” she demands of you.

“I’m going to give the girl one of them,” you squeeze them awkwardly in your hand as you bow your head in the direction of Labrys and Jeane.

“What the hell?” Alice slaps the ground with her palm, forcing it to resound, “That’s ours, and we’ll need them. They are our bloody enemies!”

“They are our competitors,” you squeeze your chest, “But more than anything else, they are our fellow Magic Knights. I am going to share it.”

Alice spits out her breath and looks away, “Take one, it's yours, don’t ask me to –share– any more of them with you.” She takes all but one back...

You pause hesitantly yet, without offering her another retort, you leave to approach the Green Mantis pair sitting not far from you and the debris. Labrys is watching over and cuddling Jeane as an older brother would. Jeane continues to cry, her expression bleak and anguished. Labrys acknowledges your presence with a worried expression. You kneel before the two of them before raising your hand and offer Jeane the capsule.

She ignores it...

“What is that?” Labrys asks.

“It’s sort-of-but-not-really a potion in form of a pill made by the strongest ‘Healing Magic’ Magic Knight in the Blue Rose,” you answer in all honesty.

With a caring voice, you stare towards the crying girl, “It was not Myles, Jeane. I saw my mother... and she is long dead. You should not worry; it is just some kind of trickery to deceive you.” You look across the dim gemstone chamber, “It must be playing on our emotions or memories?”

Labrys places a hand to his chin “Must be one or the other. The one I saw was my father, telling me to return home. He was guilt-tripping me...”

“I saw your father as well,” you confess, “He... was doing... the same thing to me as well, but he was still thinking that I was you,” you say.

Labrys winces, clearly unhappy about that fact you got to experience a more personal part of him, “Right... dear Cynthia, it is certainly strange. It might be because the four of us came to this chamber together, it went chaotic – in a sense. I also saw two people, the second one was...”

Alice raises her finger to point towards Labrys, “Shut... it...”

“Yakow Phetocruel,” Labrys finishes – he’s unthreatened by Alice. “He is your father is he not, charming-fair Alice? I know him, he is a legend.”

“I said shut it!” Alice’s yell echoes and booms through the chamber, “I don’t care what said to you, you said it– this is all a big freaking ruse!”

Labrys smiles gingerly, “Actually, he exploded seconds after he formed. He didn’t have the time to tell me anything personal about your life.”

“GAH!”

He looks at you, “We should probably return to the entrance ‘room’ first. I am not sure but I feel like beautiful Jeane needs a moment to rest.”

You hear Alice yell from a short distance away, “There’s an artefact here, I am going to take it, is that a problem?” she stares three of you down.

> Ask Alice not to touch the artefact before you can inspect it thoughtfully. However, its magic essence is powerful yet hard to recognize... you are unsure if you'll be able to see what it does.
> Tell Alice that the object shall be given to the Green Mantis instead.
> Don’t interfere with whatever Alice is doing and instead concentrate on assisting Jeane. Insist that she accepts the pill which you have offered.
> Ask Jeane if the things the reflection of her boyfriend said really would be the kind of things he would say. Ask her to name his positive qualities or praiseworthy events from her life and to compare the one in her memory to the one she was forced to interact within this place.
> Ask Jeane and Alice if any of them had the chance to meet your mother, as well as what she managed to share with them.
> Whisperly ask Labrys about Yakow – the hero father of Alice. You don’t want Alice to hear but you are interested in it.
> [Write In]

>>4537076
>Don’t interfere with whatever Alice is doing and instead concentrate on assisting Jeane. Insist that she accepts the pill which you have offered.
> Ask Jeane if the things the reflection of her boyfriend said really would be the kind of things he would say. Ask her to name his positive qualities or praiseworthy events from her life and to compare the one in her memory to the one she was forced to interact within this place.
> Ask Jeane and Alice if any of them had the chance to meet your mother, as well as what she managed to share with them.
> Whisperly ask Labrys about Yakow – the hero father of Alice. You don’t want Alice to hear but you are interested in it.

>>4537076
> Don’t interfere with whatever Alice is doing and instead concentrate on assisting Jeane. Insist that she accepts the pill which you have offered
> Ask Jeane if the things the reflection of her boyfriend said really would be the kind of things he would say. Ask her to name his positive qualities or praiseworthy events from her life and to compare the one in her memory to the one she was forced to interact within this place.
I hope that the artifact isn't cursed

>>4537120
Supporting

You offer Alice no disagreement. You look at Labrys who is not troubled by the fact that Alice plans to take the artefact for herself either. You slip the round soapy pill beneath Jeane’s trembling right hand and onto her sweaty palm. With the girl still shuddering, you take her cold fingers into yours and softly caress them. Her nose is runny. She, still sobbing, raises her lilac tinge eyes to look at your attempt to catch her attention...

She gasps – her cheeks turning bright red amidst the pale hue of her face – and immediately turns her eyes away from you. “Again, I failed him...”

“Your name is Jeane, right?” your lips lift to form a petite smile, “You shouldn’t take what ‘he’ said in the crystal chamber to heart, Jeane.”

“O-of course I should..."

“Have your boyfriend ever said anything similar to what you heard ‘him’ say today?” you question.

She loudly sniffs and sobs. Hesitantly, she eventually shoves the salty pill into her mouth and begins crunching it. She looks like she ate a worm. She gulps it down – pieces still too big for her to handle – with a struggle. She yawns with revulsion. “It does take like a medicine... Pff. Ew...”

She pauses to reflect and think. Finally, she shakes her head, “No... Today is the first time he said something so horrible and heartbreaking to me...”

“Think of all the things you told me about before,” you insist, “The many things you love about him. Does that person compare to the one before?”

Labrys adds, “Lovely Jeane, think. Why would Myles be here right now? The six of the Magic Knights are the only people here, in this mountain.”

“Maybe he was trying to send me a magic message... just to say all those horrible things? But that would be far too expensive...? Why would then...”

“That makes no sense, does it?” Labrys smiles and pats her head, “I know it was painful for you to hear, dear Jeane, but you should try and forget it. It wasn’t -really- him, or any of the people any of us have seen there.” Labrys turns to Alice, “Although it seems they are possible to destroy too.”

Alice bends over to pick up the powerful object in her hand. A brilliant yet at the same time lightless blue flame bursts from within the crystal shard and across her arm as she does so... it, as well as the immense magical pressure, lingers like a flame; yet nothing else happens. Alice modestly tosses it into the air, grabs it, and then – thoughtlessly – sways it in your direction. The brilliant flame cascades but returns back to her object...

You wince and shield your face and body. “W-what if it hurt us?!”

Alice continues to arrogantly twist her arm, “It’s doing nothing...”

Labrys steps forward, rubbing her neck. He points towards the glistering fragment, “It quite clearly looks like a piece of three, sweet Alice.”

You raise your head at him, “Does that mean it won’t do anything unless we collect the entire object?”

Labrys broadly shrugs his shoulders, “I can’t say, this piece might be able to do something as well but it’s hard to tell with Mana Zone artefacts.”

“How freaking annoying,” Alice cries as she bends her back. She points down her thumb down, “Screw this, I’m not half-assing this. I’d rather collect and bring back the entire artefact. I don’t care whose image this cave summons, I’ll break it anyway.” With that, she begins walking off.

You look at Labrys and Jeane before the three of you follow her: the path back is as easy as the path to here.

“Jeane...” you turn your head to the girl who clumsily averts your gaze, “Have you seen anybody else but your boyfriend in that mirage of yours?”

“No, Cynthia, it was just Myles,” she says. She takes out a picture of the boy from her bag and, with an affectionate gaze, begins hugging it.

“Alice?”

“No,” the woman replies coldly to you; that's all she says.

You rise to whisper into Labrys ear, “Do you think you can tell me more about Alice’s father Yakow?”

His eyebrow corks in surprise before his expression softens. His grin beams, “Why, of course, winsome Cynthia, although I am surprised you have not heard about him. He is the hero of the Clover Kingdom and the former Vice-Captain of the Silver Eagle alongside Acier Silva, the mother of the current Captain and the former Silver Eagle Captain herself. They say just the two of them were able to form an unbreakable wall against the forces of the Spade Kingdom no one else could stop before. He was a noble as well, of course. He, just like adoring Alice, had an Afterimage Magic, although the people who saw it, and especially fought alongside him, describe it in ways that are completely incomparable to hers.

“When Acier Silva died during childbirth, Yakow retired soon after.” He looks at Alice and then lowers his voice even more, “The fact that he has a daughter came as a shock, as he was never married or even had a female assistant. Some nobles rumour that he adopted a girl but... she has his magic, that can’t be the case. She may be a bastard daughter of his, it's possible, which would explain why her magic is so much weaker than his.” Labrys says all of it with a smile, “She might have the mana of a noble, but she has a lot to overcome if she wants to surpass him.”

He grins, saying the rest out loud, “Well, that doesn’t mean I can’t tease the “Worst Knight”; that just puts her down to our level, cute Cynthia.”

Alice glares daggers at him, but Labrys simply waves his hand.

So... that is how it is...

“We should probably stick together; it seems this particular Mana Shear can’t handle manifesting images for too many people.”

“You are... quite perceptive,” you say.

“I perceive that as a compliment, charming Cynthia,” Labrys winks.

You return to the chamber with the three crystal-formed tunnels. The blue one is still shining, but not as bright as the green and red.

Alice points her hand towards the olive-green passageway, “Let’s go, I want to crush some clusters of your Squad’s colours now.” You look at Alice; she is pretending to be tough, but the fact that her magic contacts – ones she uses to present her blue eyes, for whatever reason, – can’t hide her crimson irises means she does not have as much mana as she pretends she does.

“Jeane?” Labrys asks.

The girl grunts, knocking her head with her knuckle, “I... I don’t know. I am trying to figure out what would Myles pick to do now! He'd pick right.”

“Well, mirthful-darling girls, I think we should go for the red crystal instead. I feel like it’ll be the hardest one, so we should take care of it first. If you are to ask my justification, it is just a feeling. Red is a colour usually used for warnings and angry emotions, is it not? It makes sense...”

> Agree with Alice; venture inside the emerald crystal cavern.
> Agree with Labrys; venture inside the crimson crystal cavern.
> Ask Labrys if you should form a party of two people for each cavern.
> Suggest you leave the caverns be for the time being. You will still have tomorrow to restore your stamina.
> [Write In]

>>4538495
>> Ask Labrys if you should form a party of two people for each cavern.
Buddy system!

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>4538495
>I actually have no idea what tunnel to take soo...
1 = emerald
2 = crimson crystal

Also this explain about Alice, especially since everyone says her magic is weak while her fathers was apparently extremely strong

>>4538495
> Agree with Labrys; venture inside the crimson crystal cavern.

You glance from Labrys and Alice as they continue to argue about which colour of the cavern you should enter; it’s not like you know the answer.

“Perhaps we should split into a group of two?” you propose cautiously.

Alice angrily slams her hand against the glimmering layer of crystals and gems, forcing you to jolt, “I am going to where I decided to; understood? You three commoners” – she narrows her eyes accusingly – “can go stick together. It will certainly be more useful.” Alice raises her hand to point towards you particularly, “Captain Charlotte is going to blame me if you end up as a lifeless body, peasant, so the only thing you shouldn’t be doing is dying.” Alice spits. She grips the edges of the emerald entrance and, bending her head; she enters and vanishes inside...

“That’s not what I meant...” you mutter with your head hanging low.

“Your idea is a good one, genuine Cynthia; two people should be enough to cascade and confused this “Mana Shear”, although not guaranteed... but just one is way too risky. I think it’s best if we do split up into two groups, but somebody is going to have to follow the beautiful Alice...”

You sigh; it’ll obviously have to be you. It is hard not to show your disappointment. You are her companion, but she makes it hard to be one.

Jeane pauses. She puts a finger to her lips and then, with a beaming smile – as if she was not bawling just minutes before – she grips the picture frame of her beloved and stands up. “I’ll follow her; the two of you can go into the red cave! Myles would do the same if he was in my place!”

“Are you sure?” Labrys asks, but she reassures him with a wink.

Jeane runs to follow Phetocruel.

You are hesitant about this. You ask Labrys, “She had the most trouble with the previous gemstone chamber, are you sure it is alright?”

Labrys harrumphs, “Let’s assume they are all different, or at least vary in some way. I don’t think there’s another kind of ‘emotional trap’ delightful Jeane will have problem with; that one should’ve been the worst one for her. Besides that, her Ice Magic is quite powerful. She should be alright.”

You are still unsure. “If you say so...” you awkwardly run your hand over your kneecap. It is going to be just Labrys and you alone in that cave.

“Of course, that’s assuming they don’t end up fighting each other or the heavy crystal roof doesn’t end up collapsing,” he jokes grimly.

Labrys offers you his hand. A playful yet confident smile is present on his face. You accept his hand as to not get separated like before.

You enter the crimson hollow. The further you go the brighter and more brazen the sanded refulgent interior of the geode interior becomes. Like before, the vivid rubicund crystalware of the floor, wall and the ceiling begin to reflect and shift your image, but this time in much more menacing bloody tones of the red room. The two of you attempt to be more attentive and perceptive this time, making note of all the crystals.

“Are the Blue Rose treating you well, elysian Cynthia?” Labrys’ voice rings and echoes. That was too sudden. You grip the hand you hold.

“I am very much enjoying my time in the Blue Rose,” you confess.

“Have they made you a man-hater yet?” he chuckles good-humouredly, “Please don’t let them cut your beautiful red hair as Sol has done!”

“I don’t plan to cut my hair, although it suits Sol,” you confess. Briefly, you envision Sol with long hair. “And no, I am sure that Sol and others have genuine reasons to dislike men but no one tried to force me to do the same. I still like boys.” You grasp what you just said with red cheeks.

“Loyal, hard-working, honest, charming person who will be just as crazy as you about adventures but just as grounded as you are about it?”

You stumble, “How did you...?” You groan, shy and ashamed, “How can you still remember what I said back then?”

The man smiles mischievously, “Let’s just say I have a good memory.”

> You don’t like to be teased with. Don’t reply and take a step forward to pull him with you instead of the other way and continue in silence.
> Try to change the topic. Ask Labrys how he is doing instead; or any other topic! Really!
> Tell Labrys you two should concentrate on the cavern dwelling and be focused on it alone.
> Tell Labrys that you are not looking for a boyfriend anymore, and you have far more important things to focus on.
> Admit that those are still your criteria. ‘So what about it?’
> Tell Labrys that your criteria have changed since your ‘date’ in Kraal, but don’t tell him the details.
> Question Labrys why he is asking you about this. He said he’s not interested in finding a long-term relationship; is he just teasing now?
> [Write In]

>>4539968
> Tell Labrys you two should concentrate on the cavern dwelling and be focused on it alone.
did you combine the votes above? since I assume that the ones who voted for crimson cave wanted to go in there with 4 people

>>4539991
> [I did, yes. Alice did not want to go with the one Labrys chose - crimson - no matter what.]

>>4540005
understandable

>>4539968
>Admit that those are still your criteria. ‘So what about it?’
Question Labrys why he is asking you about this. He said he’s not interested in finding a long-term relationship; is he just teasing now?

>>4539968
> Tell Labrys you two should concentrate on the cavern dwelling and be focused on it alone.

>>4540877
+1

File: 1604403621166.jpg (326 KB, 2048x1152)

326 KB JPG

> [Uploads to resume tomorrow. I'll roll a d2 unless there's a deciding vote by morning. Thank you all for playing and participating in this quest, it is very appreciated.]

>>4539968
> Admit that those are still your criteria. ‘So what about it?’
changing vote

>>4539968
>> Admit that those are still your criteria. ‘So what about it?’
>> Question Labrys why he is asking you about this. He said he’s not interested in finding a long-term relationship; is he just teasing now?

You glance away, chewing on your cheek, contemplating on your answer.

Is now really the time to talk about something this trivial? For you, being reminded of the date you were “compelled” to go on by Tugela, and the embarrassing moments of getting well-drunk on alcohol and forgetting the majority of the night is an unpleasant memory... besides Labrys.

He might’ve been the reason to ultimately convince you to not be held back by your workshop duties, and by your father’s expectations.

You take a very deep breath before responding. He does not interrupt and waits patiently until you do so. “Yes, I think those are still my criteria,” you say, “So what about it?” You raise your eyes to look at him, but you glance away when his exotic and gilded irises meet yours.

“I am just making sure,” he smiles.

You stop, furrowing your brows, “You are ‘making sure’?” you question.

“Indeed, your mind expanding on those trails a little bit, fair Cynthia?”

“I don’t feel like nows the right time to talk about it,” you hesitate.

“Is there anyone you have in mind who has those traits?” he continues with his unnecessary perseverance, “It’s been six months, after all.”

“I have been entirely busy with my Magic Knight work... Labrys, tell me straight, why are you asking me about this?”

“Dainty Cynthia, I am just making small talk. Do you not like this topic?”

You groan. “You are flirting... or teasing... or both. You said you were not interested in finding a long-term relationship, so what is going on?”

His voice remains light-hearted, if not mischievous and enigmatic. “Lissom Cynthia, I am just very happy to see you again.” The man’s fingers interlock yours – you are already holding hands – as he gently touches your knuckles. “It can be taken in any way you would prefer to. Dear Cynthia, it is still true I am not interested in a long-term relationship, but I can’t glaze over the fact that I have missed talking to you a great lot.”

Your cheeks turn blood-red bright before the blood rushes through the rest of your face, neck and ears. You look away from him immediately.

You engage in a breathing exercise to calm your body and nerves. Was that a confession, in a way? You won’t take it as one unless he is clear!

You continue to walk. Labrys does not mutter a word. You don’t know how long it takes for you to have the courage to look at him, but eventually, you do. Pushing your hand to your chest, you turn your head only to see a completely different person standing next to you, holding your hand.

You stop in sudden panic. The bright light of the chamber basks the two of you in crimson hues and glassy mirages. You try to break the hand lock but she – it is a tall woman – holds you tightly. At first, you assume it is, again, your mother, but that is not the case...

She is wearing a flowing white linen dress with swirling and puffed semi-transparent sleeves with a meagre part of her neck and shoulders exposed. The dress is glimmering; it flows from white to silver and back in a beautiful gradient. The dress is decorated with curving and majestic patterns of blue flowers; it does not look that way, but they shimmer as if they were encrusted with blue diamonds.

She is two heads taller than you and appears at least twenty years older. Just like your mother before, she has a plentiful flowing red hair – it falls and practically reaches her feet. It is elegantly and diligently combed, yet in a way to make it look rebellious and wild. A part of her hair is collected into a ponytail and hangs over her shoulder. Her grey floppy hat with long and wide brims covers the top of her head. There’s a pair of fake bunny-like ears...

She turns to lift the shadow of the hat covering her face. She has a scar across her lips (so cool!). Her brown-orange eyes gleam in the darkness.

This is not a person you recognize, but she looks familiar.

> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the woman.
> “Who are you? Do I know you?”
> Consume a [Muti Cricket], as the effects of the previous one have waned.
> “I apologize, can you tell me what happened to Labrys?”
> “Can I ask you to please let go of my hand? It’s uncomfortable.”
> Summon forth a spell from your grimoire. [Which] [In what way?]
> [Write In]

>>4542395
>> “Who are you? Do I know you?”
> “I apologize, can you tell me what happened to Labrys?”

>>4542395
> “Who are you? Do I know you?”
> Consume a [Muti Cricket], as the effects of the previous one have waned.

>>4542609
+1

>>4542395
>> “Who are you? Do I know you?”
>> “I apologize, can you tell me what happened to Labrys?”

>>4542395
> “Who are you? Do I know you?”
> “I apologize, can you tell me what happened to Labrys?”

>>4542395
>Consume a [Muti Cricket], as the effects of the previous one have waned.
> “Who are you? Do I know you?”
> “I apologize, can you tell me what happened to Labrys?”
> “Can I ask you to please let go of my hand? It’s uncomfortable.”

You gulp under her intense gaze.

“Who are you?” you ask seconds before your curiosity crops over your question, “Do I know you?”

The tall feminine figure remains – rather rudely – silent. She does not look like any person you can remember meeting in your life, so how come the caverns are materializing such an eccentric, and yet detailed, persona? You wait patiently for her to respond but she continues to simply yet forebodingly stare you down. The grip of her hand over yours remains tight and subdued, but she – as if a doll – does not respond in any way.

“I apologize; can you tell me what happened to Labrys?”

Again, she ignores your question. Trailing and following your mental wish, your magic tome slips out of your grimoire pouch and, engulfed with silvery dazzle, hovers to your side. Using your free hand, you reach for the open sparkling pages to try to take and chew – with no much enjoyment – on yet another living magical insect. However, when your fingers penetrate the liquid pages, your grimoire flows away from you!

Your eyes widen when you realize the woman’s other hand is doing the same motion as you are, only in a much elegant and beautiful manner.

When the grimoire spins around to now – traitorously – hover by her side, her fingers pass through the paper and into the book like it were hers.

> Wrestle the ‘magic hold’ of the grimoire from the woman.
> Physically grapple the woman to take ownership of the grimoire.
> Summon forth a spell from your grimoire. [Which] [In what way?]
> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the woman.
> [Write In]

>>4543617
>> Wrestle the ‘magic hold’ of the grimoire from the woman.
wait we are fighting the future of ourself

>>4543617
>Mime withdrawing "our" hand from the Grimoire without taking the cricket. Is she copying us?

>>4543626
>wait we are fighting the future of ourself
Seems like it. Very interesting. Maybe we should experiment a bit to see how closely she mirrors us?

>>4543617
>Mime withdrawing "our" hand from the Grimoire without taking the cricket. Is she copying us?

>>4543647
+1

You flinch and toss your arm away from the pages of the grimoire in hope that she is copying your movements as a shadow would, but that is not the case. With a jaded expression, she pushes her hand through the wobbly liquid and empty page, a mercury coloured cloud of dust and smoke sizzles from the paper as her hand reaches deeper. She takes out one of the shuddering muti crickets and puts it in her mouth, crunching it.

Despite her poker face, she still gingerly grimaces from the taste. She suddenly pulls your hand upwards and pushes-tosses you away from her.

You are yanked back; stumbling on the rough crystal terrace you end up falling on one of your knees before the woman to return to your balance.

The grimoire begins to flip and flick through the pages with a loud swooshing and rhythmic sound. A ring of white powder hangs in the air.

It stops.

“Linen Magic: Diaphanous Shawl.” She finally whispers a phrase; her voice is quiet yet powerful. The woman weaves her arms to make a blur-trail of mana begin to gather from her inside her body – her mana soul – and trickle through her semi-translucent sleeves to hang before her. Elegantly, she waves and traces her hand over her neck. The grimoire begins to glow as her magic starts to complete the spell in the shape of a thick, pearlescent, iridescent and ever-changing linen shawl falling over her shoulders. She pauses, only to then flick her hand at you.

WHAT IS THAT SPELL?!

Like a strangely bubbly – living – yet at the same time decorative fabric, the shawl cracks like a whip as it lifts off her shoulders and whirls into a lustrous – from purple to white and blue – fulgurating and opaline ceremonial mace. It looks like a magic metal now, more than a cloth mace... Her hand turns as if she was tossing a slap, and the mace-of-her-creation follows in a maul motion to hurt you.

> [Please roll 1d100 (-10) – best of three – to avoid the attack.

Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>4544758

Rolled 15 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4544758
It's like our combat scarf, but on steroids!

Rolled 6 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4544758

>>4544784
>>4544838
>>4544839
The dice are cursed. Truly cursed.

>>4544862
the dice gods hate us

She is standing too close, and her mace-shawl is seconds away from pummelling you across your stomach and face. You simply do not have enough time to leap out of the way or even try and dodge with a step to the side. Practically forcing your tense body to relax, you bend your knees and dive back. The mace comes swinging a moment afterwards, the varicoloured metal-like-cloth whistling as it misses you by a few inches at best. You come collapsing upon the rough crystal-amber floor against your back with all the pain that entails. You grunt in pain...

Clenching your fist, you demand the hovering magic tome to return to your side. It closes itself with a loud snap once it floats in front of the woman's face and then towards you. The woman opens her palm and the grimoire stops, a loud crackle of magic within it begins to rain like sand on the scarlet floor between you. Angrily, you ‘pull’ the grimoire back towards yourself as if it was a pet that was indecisive of whom of the two family members of it’s to play with.

Her eyes meet yours as her shawl continues to hover nearby. It glistens, and its glow is overpowering. It does not reflect the shine of amber caverns and mirror-glass; it continues to burst with the glossy effulge of a magic mother pearl. The woman says nothing else: she’s concentrated.

Ever-so-slowly, however, your grimoire begins to course towards you. You manage to slowly pick yourself off the ground. The full padded doublet took the brunt of the fall damage: your back hurt, but only a tiny bit. You watch the woman as she shows no emotion; one of her hands is focused on trying to bring the grimoire back to her, while the other is weaving and preparing the shawl for the second attack. Why is she able to use Linen Magic?

And not just that... why is she able to use a spell that is not supposed to be in your grimoire? No, there is no way you could’ve missed a spell like that. Indeed, a spell like this is something you –wish– you had. It looks powerful and beautiful, it does not require you to take care of flax fields for weeks upon months, it does not disappear even after she used it once, and this is an ‘Offensive Form’ spell. As your grimoire finally reaches you and touches the skin of your fingers, and opens in all its vivid mercury brightness to assist you, you ponder... Is this woman suppose to be much older you? Quickly, you dart and flip through the grimoire in an attempt to find any signs of changes within; but there are no new spells.

You never thought to yourself about how you were going to look decades into your future. Is there a way this chamber has the magic power of precognition that is so powerful to reflect and mirage it? There is no way, is it? She has a witch hat... but one that is extremely cute and adorable.

Have you ever liked hares or rabbits? Not to this extent...

She has a dress in the same style and design as you and your mother had, but it is much more striking and fitting her body and the battlefield-role...

> “Why are you not answering me? You are Cynthia or not?”
> “Please, I hold no ill will towards you, and we don’t have to fight.”
> Concentrate and try to envision what you wish your future self being more open and talkative.
> Remove and eat a ‘Muti Cricket’ from your grimoire.
> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the woman.
> Summon forth a spell from your grimoire. [Which] [In what way?]
> [Write In]

> Swinging a sword takes an entire action, using a spell takes an entire action, concentrating and envisioning a personality trait takes one action.

>>4546013
> “Please, I hold no ill will towards you, and we don’t have to fight.”
> “Why are you not answering me? You are Cynthia or not?”

>>4546013
> Concentrate and try to envision what you wish your future self being more open and talkative.
fuck it why not we might as well try

>>4546013
> Concentrate and try to envision what you wish your future self being more open and talkative.
Sure, let's give it a go

>>4546013
>> “Why are you not answering me? You are Cynthia or not?”

>>4546013
>Concentrate and try to envision what you wish your future self being more open and talkative.

You clutch the open grimoire to your chest with an exhausted and pained rustle. The woman locks and then opens her fingers with a loud crack.

“Please, I hold no ill will towards you, and we don’t have to fight.” Nothing. “Why are you not answering me? You are Cynthia or not?!”

The light illumining from the shawl, weaved from her unnerving and potent magic, shines over and overpowers the previously flamboyant scarlet gleam of the crystal cavern. In form of a mace which, physically, would only be wielded by a giant or a titan, it hovers and flares in the air over your head. You gulp down. Instead of summoning a spell, you close your eyes and concentrate: keeping her image and form clear in your mind, you try your hardest to imagine what kind of person you’ll be – or even excel at being – in the far future. She needs to be more talkative~!

“What are you doing?” you hear her echo in a serious and mature voice. You lift your fingers from the sides of your head you’ve been rubbing.

You gasp as your eyes open and widen to observe her. She is standing still – her back is perfectly straight and her chin is raised – as she questions.

“Why... why are you attacking me?” you ask the corporeal mirage.

Her irises slowly roll up her irises as he contemplates, “You came here on your own decision, but I’ll answer... It is the nature of this magic sub-terrain. I am a reflection of your memories, your thoughts, your dreams and everything else. The things you remember, once knew, and will never recall, as well as the things you’ll be wishing for. I am the reflection of your future self, but I am not an easily manipulated clay manifestation.” She sighs (she sighs!). “I thought you’ll be able to figure it out on your merit, but it appears that you are not enough mentally developed; yet...”

Before you can respond, she lowers her hand; the magic shawl-mace starts falling with the sound and impact of a collapsing redwood tree.

“Now, stop running away and fight me. Defeat me for the artefact you came for, or die and become the magic sustenance for this zone's hungering magic.”

> Please roll 1d100 (-10) – best of three – to avoid the attack.

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>4547023

Rolled 92 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4547023
The curse has to break sooner or later. We can do this!

>>4547185
Hell yeah!

Rolled 90 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4547023

This time, you are way better prepared for the attack of your much-older-self. You lean your body down and to the side and then you – with all of your might – leap out of the way of the approaching plummet of the ‘mace’. The descending shawl crashes upon the red monoclinic terrain. It leaves a deep and wretched crater on its impact, together with feverishly scintillating and ringing dust of scarlet shards; a part of it painfully bruises the skin of your face. You cover your mouth, nose and eyes to protect yourself from the worst of it. In seconds, like hail, the cloud loudly cascades.

You’ve managed to avoid her attack yet again; either you are lucky, or it is not as strong as you... wait, no-no-no-no, do not even think about it!

You grunt as you lean on your knees and then straighten them. Shaking your head, you grip the hilt of your sword and the edge of your grimoire.

A dim glimmer of blurry mercury light follows each of the fingertips of woman's right hand as she motions and drags them before her in the air. The woman’s shawl unravels from its mace-like form – despite using it two times it is still just as pristine and well-defined as it was the moment she has summoned it – to begin transforming and taking shape of a long and dangerous lance. The magic cloth circle into many layers and tightens.

“I guess it won’t work on you: you are thrice as nimble and agile as your average Magic Knight,” her voice resonates from the vermilion enclosure. She is just a creation of the ‘Mana Shear’; you feel that it is rather unlikely you’ll be able to convince her to stop attacking you...?

> Take out and eat a ‘Muti Cricket’ from your grimoire.
> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the woman.
> Concentrate and try to envision what you wish your future self being more helpful and benevolent.
> Summon and cast [Linen Magic: Weighted Blanket] on the mirage of your future self.
> Summon and cast [Linen Magic: Flaying Chenille Threads] on the mirage of your future self.
> Summon and cast [Linen Magic: Frock of Daydream] on yourself.
> Continue purely dodging and avoiding her attacks.
> [Write In Dialogue]
> [Write In]

>>4548308
>> Take out and eat a ‘Muti Cricket’ from your grimoire.
> Summon and cast [Linen Magic: Flaying Chenille Threads] on the mirage of your future self.

>>4548308
>> Take out and eat a ‘Muti Cricket’ from your grimoire.
>> Summon and cast [Linen Magic: Flaying Chenille Threads] on the mirage of your future self.
Maybe we can try negotiating again once we knock down future Cynthia a peg or two

>>4548308
> Take out and eat a ‘Muti Cricket’ from your grimoire.
> Summon and cast [Linen Magic: Flaying Chenille Threads] on the mirage of your future self.

>>4548308
> Take out and eat a ‘Muti Cricket’ from your grimoire.
> Summon and cast [Linen Magic: Flaying Chenille Threads] on the mirage of your future self.

>>4548308
> Continue purely dodging and avoiding her attacks.
I feel like she will just take our book again so maybe just have her waste her mana?

>>4548411
+1
>>4549461
that would make us have to rely on us rolling high

File: 1574032324315.jpg (255 KB, 704x1029)

255 KB JPG

> [I apologize for no update today, Thursdays are annoying for me. Perhaps I can entertain you all with a question instead: who is your favorite canon character from Black Clover?]

>>4549852
no worries and I haven't read black clover in such a long time so I can't remember

>>4549852
No worries Melk, it's a holiday in the US anyways. Personally I'm a big fan of Yami.

>>4549852
>who is your favorite canon character from Black Clover?]
Probably Zora

>>4549852
No worries at all. I would say it would have to be Magna.

You follow a tossing motion with your hand to elevate and level your grimoire next to your raised hand. With an exhale, you focus to form a mental bond with the inner depths of your grimoire and the items stored inside of it. With a quick thrust, you push your hand through the empty liquor paper; a shimmering ripple of mercury sparkles pursues your movements. You take out a vigorous and squirming insect to bite it...

With every crunch you make the small cricket becomes mushier and mushier in your mouth. You feel your mana soul if only slightly strengthen.

“You are already a few dozen years stronger than me,” you complain to take away her attention as you grip the handle of your magic wand, “Yet you still ate my muti cricket? I am going to grow up to be such a derider?”

You lift and point your wand directly at her face; a flurry of turbulent and gushing mana erupts from your body, spirals across your hand and through your wand to focus much stronger on the very end of it.

“If you want me to fight, then so be it! Linen Magic: Flaying Chenille Threads!” you scream with a lungful of air as you cast a spell.

The words magically inscribed within the spell-page of your magic tome begin to shine with lustrous energy. An ethereal miasma loosely resembling a clump of stretched blue yard windblast towards the woman. The rolling shimmering cluster speedily shortens the distance. She pauses, comes to a complete stop and then comes rushing directly towards your unfinished spell. Seconds before she plunges directly into it, she leaps to fly above it. Graciously, she puts her hands above her chest and spirals above it like a winter luminary. It misses her and fades away...

Once she is far away from the crumbling remains of your “Flaying Chenille Threads”, she elegantly lands on her feet. Her dress is like a swan bird. Her eyes glowing, she raises her palm to aim towards your grimoire. It flinches when you clutch your fist, but eventually, it flies to her front.

“... I wouldn’t fight you if there was any other way, that did not change,” she grabs the magic tome and flips through it. She gathers her mana.

“And you do not have a choice either. You might think you can just waste my mana... but that is not going to work. “Mana Zone.””

“Mana Skin”? ... No, it’s “Mana Zone”? What is that? Where have you seen it? Where have you heard about it? What the hell is going on here?!

The always changing, reflecting and mirroring radiance of the chamber freezes like winter water. The scarlet ambience and light shifts into much deeper shaded mercury light. For a split moment, you see - or are forced to imagine - an enormous flock of silver birds fluttering everywhere around you; until that image immediately vanishes from your eyes. The vivid glow of her spell diminishes, however, the strong pressure stays.

“What... did you do?” you demand to know from the mirage of your future-self.

She answers you frankly. “I told you, I am the creation from the magic of this ‘Mana Shear’, and every speck of mana present here is mine to use.

“Do you think I have any more ‘Offensive Form’ spells?” she asks with a step.

Does she? You would expect yourself to learn at least a couple of those... Your eyes widen as you bite into your lips until a trickle of blood begins to roll down your chin. You pinch your cheeks as painfully as you can to focus your mind on the pain. You can’t give her any more power!

She takes a step forward, “What do you think ‘True Linen Magic’ is like? How formidable it is that even the Witch Queen wishes to have it?”

You slap your palms against your face before you squeeze it with a harsh and agonizing strength. No! Don’t think about ‘it’ at all, Cynthia...!

She points her palm towards you, “Linen Magic: Flaying Chenille Threads.” A familiar spell pulsating with an immense flux of magic rebounds from her hand towards you. A bubble of ensorceled sky-blue thread, it explodes and hurls in your direction... The mana around you, like a tornado of uncontrollable and chaotic wind, begins to current towards the spell she had summoned. The mana enriches it with more power...

> Please roll 1d70+10 – best of three – for the cost of your previous spell.
> Please roll 1d100 (-10) – best of three – to avoid the attack [Flaying Chenille Threads]
> Please roll 1d100 (-10) – best of three – to avoid the lance-like [Diaphanous Shaw]
> [9 rolls in total]

> [Write In]

> [I like most of the Black Bulls too.]

Rolled 63 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4550546

>>4550573
why my - keep going to +

Rolled 60 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4550546

Rolled 78 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4550546

>>4550574
dice+1d100+-10

You need to write '+-' to get '-'

Rolled 12 + 10 (1d70 + 10)

>>4550546

Rolled 1 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4550663

Rolled 83 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4550664
God damn it

Rolled 60 + 10 (1d70 + 10)

>>4550546

Rolled 32 + 10 (1d70 + 10)

>>4550546

> [I need one more 1d100, thank you!]

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>4550787

> [Results]

>>4550573
>>4550576
>>4550600
> [68] Escape

>>4550663
>>4550679
>>4550755
> [22] Mana Cost

>>4550664
>>4550665
>>4550871
> [73] Escape

You spend 22 mana.
Mana: [73/180]

Her spell carries on quickly traversing through the space of the scarlet cavern valley, growing on and charging through the mana of the surrounding area as if it was part of her own. With a haunting blue pulse, the barraging cyclone billows towards you. Clearly, in panic, you point your wand directly towards the tide of her magic. In reality, you have no idea how you are supposed to avoid an onslaught of this magnitude.

But you can’t allow yourself to be caught in the tendrils of the “Flaying Chenille”; not only will you be caught like a web-bound-fly and end up wholly defenceless as well as exposed to all her spells, but it will also drain the valuable reserves of mana you cannot afford to lose. You need to avoid it at all costs. You close your eyes and try your hardest to focus on the presence and blinding outlines of the magic surrounding you. As long as you can avoid the flaming tendrils of her mercury Linen Magic, you should erase every other object and presence in your muted mind.

But that is impossible to do. Instead of the usual near-darkness of the canvass, you find within your psyche – with only the spells and magicians presence of which you can sense – every inch of the fabric around you makes it present with a headache-inducing pressure. The magical presence of the woman, as well as both of her spells, disappear in this flux like a drop of wet paint throughout heavy rain.

You open your eyes when you realize you’ll have better luck trying to avoid the incoming spell the old-fashioned way. Having no other choice, you spin on your heels and rush into the contrary direction of the spell: if it’s going to try and capture you head-on, you’ll just have to escape from it perpendicularly!

The wretched cerulean clump of spun linen crashes upon the place you have been standing seconds before. It detonates with a chilling shine as the semiopaque threads of yarns reach in all directions in an attempt to capture everyone who tries to flee. Like whips, the long cloudy threads swivel, whip and thrash all around your body. You feet spin and circle as you turn around in a valiant attempt to dodge every single one of them.

Somehow, you manage. Unable to capture you and conclude the spell, the soft dim magic cracks and begins to slowly crumble into natural mana. However, when you bend to try to take a deep breath to calm yourself, the pearlescent lance manifested from her metal-like cloth lunges towards you...

Again, you wait until the very last moment to jump out of the way as the jagged summoned javelin hurtles inches away from your stomach and lungs. You focus all of your attention and senses on her spell. As it misses and flies away from you, the lance suddenly stops with a loud rupture of wind. It unravels into its regular shawl form only to rapidly form back into another lance. Without turning around, it is now pointing at you again...

With an incredible speed it – once more – hurls through the air in an attempt to impale you. You push your hand against the ground and, at the right moment, you leap out of the way to have it fail to hit you and, instead, spear through the lustrous and crystalline ruby ground.

You furiously flick your palm and the mana concentrated within it to form a connecting with –your– grimoire. However, when it flings and begins to fly towards you, the shawl unravels from its lance-form and, as if it was your enriched battle scarf, surrounds and stops the magic tome in place.

> Rush towards your grimoire and swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the shawl to try and destroy it.
> Rush towards your grimoire and wrestle the shawl for the possession of it. From its pages, summon another spell for this battle.
> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the woman.
> Expose yourself open to meditate on the “flock of silver birds”. The [Mana Zone] is not a spell from her grimoire, is it?
> Attempt to shatter one of the walls with [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’].
> [Write In]

>>4551742
>Expose yourself open to meditate on the “flock of silver birds”. The [Mana Zone] is not a spell from her grimoire, is it?

>>4551742
>> Attempt to shatter one of the walls with [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’]

>>4551742
> Expose yourself open to meditate on the “flock of silver birds”. The [Mana Zone] is not a spell from her grimoire, is it?
I sure chose an interesting time to catch up.

>>4551742
>> Expose yourself open to meditate on the “flock of silver birds”. The [Mana Zone] is not a spell from her grimoire, is it?

> [Interesting. Okay. I need three 1d180 rolls. The result sum of the three must be higher than 180.]

Rolled 11 (1d180)

>>4552785

Rolled 64 (1d180)

>>4552785

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>4552785

Rolled 134 (1d180)

>>4552785

>>4553803
clutch

You raise your chin. You relax and soften your body. You deeply inhale before you stop your breathing from both your mouth and your nose. You close your eyes as tightly as you can to have the veil of your mind focus on nothing but the magical essence surrounding you. There’s a loud chime noise from the quivering crystals layering the amber-red chamber. You place your hands over your ears to silence that sensation and sound too.

You do it the way you have been trained to do to – successfully – increase your magic sense and perception. With so much familiar – although not exactly yours – magic surrounding you, something like this technique should be possible to achieve for you presently, as it will be for your imagined self years in the future. You attempt to fall into the “Mana Flow” state, where the presence of magic overpowers everything else.

But despite your best efforts, it is not your magic to control. There are no silver birds to guide your magical abilities... “Mana Skin” requires absolute control over your mana and an unwavering concentration to be able to form a coating that turns a regular Magic Knight into a remarkable one...

It is an incredibly hard technique to master; to use it consciously and to greater effect. Even for the nobles, with all their immense mana, have to train to be able to use it. For commoners like you, it is not often you can find somebody who possesses such a technique. But this “Mana Zone” that the older-Cynthia has completed, is it entirely different. The natural mana, especially in a Grand Magic Zone such as this one, is not that is supposed to be servient to the mages; their grimoire should only be able to turn their own mana into spells. That is not the case here, and while you have this thought at first, that is not because this girl is part of the same magic that is this cavern. She is your reflection, using Linen Magic!

“Linen Magic: Weighted Blanket.”

You feel an unexpected shove and jolt as you are painfully dragged out of your meditation. The binding spell does not come from the woman, but from left-field – a deep corner – of the chamber. The dominant layer of mercury-hued magic swirls and then tightens around you as the long, rigid and thick blanket begins to harden. You find yourself stuck in a cocoon with only a part of your face free but almost glued to one position.

The woman raises her hand, and with it, the shawl ascends above your head and switches to its ritual-mace form. You don’t have time to run...

“I probably won’t be able to end it with one swing, so I will have to repeat it,” she says with a note of unexpected melancholy. “I will make the pain quick.”

You finally manage to reach for Virginia’s sword; the powerful magic inside the Magic Relic should be enough to cut through this spell. However, the moment you unsheathe it, you notice something wrong. There’s a howling crack as your-future-mirage take a step back.

Then, all the features of her body – previously fleshy and expressive – freeze and become gemstone-like, like the rest of the chamber. Sharp edges become apparent and visible across her body - even over the clothes - as if she was a poorly made statue until she is completely transformed into a crimson crystal pillar. The pillar begins to change...

As soon as her form vanishes, the linen chaining you begins to glow with a bright grey vividness. It soon explodes into thousands of sparkles. You are now free, but you quickly realize that the troubles are far from over. The form of the pillar begins to take shape of a towering muscular man.

He does not have a grimoire hovering by his side but he raises his hand to summon a spell despite that. From empty air he takes out a battle axe:

“Axe Magic: Behemoth Beheader.”

The axe does not have details, yet; neither does the brawny wielder of it, however, that does not stop him from swinging it in a descending motion.

> Please roll 1d100 (-10) – best of three – to avoid the attack.

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>4554067

Rolled 50 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4554067

Rolled 53 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4554067

I guess we are getting beheaded by future Labrys.

The swing of his gargantuan axe is too rapid: it’ll be impossible for you to avoid it. Recklessly, instead of trying to run away and having the axe pierce through your back or shoulder – if not outright severing them from the rest of the body – you lean all the weight of your body on your left knee. You concentrate and then forcefully push, in a way of a torrent course, as much mana as you can gather in those precious few seconds.

When you feel the raging auburn flame-energy of the cleaver seconds away from sundering you, you strengthen your leg to thrust against the ground with all the overflowing mana you have attempting to collect. With an uncomfortable dash, you spring-leap away from the descending axe.

The edge of the axe passes inches away from your face. The cold sharp metal blade crackles as it misses you, but it cuts off a huge chunk of your forelocks and the following wind explosion sends the rest of your hair into a jittering mess. You watch a bolt of thundering azure lightning follow the spell like a comet trail; the moment the edge of the axe crashes into the ground, the pillar of rattling magic enters into it and, after short seconds, causes another, even more, powerful bang. The ground beneath the axe explodes into massive crystal chunks; then, those chunks explode too.

An immense and uncontrollable eruption of magic, like a blast of wind, circles from the centre and surrounds you in its force. It passes through your body; the force sends you flying and then rolling across the floor ground. Wincing in pain, you manage to avoid any kind of heavy injury...

You have gained an affliction: [Forgotten Confusion]
> Your mana flow has been tampered with. It will take time for your mana soul to regain its flow. You have a 1d4 chance for your spells to fail you.
> [I will be rolling this.]

The axe is a mana creation, and it is still his to wield. You can’t allow yourself to be hit by this “Behemoth Beheader”, you won’t survive. As you catch your breath and grip your wand to proper for the counter-attack, his proper and full form finally materializes. The cleaver is brilliantly decorated and the metal flows with a beautiful and calming bluish-orange vapour. The runes of the axe embellish the metal blade and the grip of it.

The person before you is a middle-aged man, perhaps in his forties. He looks like a much older Labrys, and he is a head taller than the mirage-woman you have fought previously; he is even taller than the Magic Emperor. Even if his hair is grey, it is impossible to see because of how pristine and white Labrys’ real hair is. He has a well-groomed and regal moustache anchored by a chin strip. His hair is messy and curled, yet at the same time, it is long and makes him appear suave. He is muscular and burly, and on the skin, you can see there is an enormous amount of scars.

On his head, he has a high hat with a flat and fluffy crown made out of thick bronze-patterned fabric, with a fur blade in the form of cuffs, fastened to the crown with loops at the front of it. It is decorated at the front with expensive and rich green feathers: magical. He has tall black leather boots and thick fingerless gloves of similar style. He has a long green shirt, pants and tunic; each of them is decorated with white ornamental sequins and beams on the edges of the sleeves, shoulders, neck and other places. Aside from his original tattoo, he has another:
It is an on his half-exposed chest, and it portrays a large mantis engaged in a battle against other huge insects. It is easily able to defeat them all...

On his left arm, there’s wound, but unlike the other ones, it is fresh and bleeding blood on the ground beneath.

“I suppose that isn’t going to end you,” you hear him say with a manly voice as he grips the axe once again.

Your heart skips a beat and your face turns crimson.

Oh no, he’s handsome...

You slap your face: it must be the magic talking! This man has just tried to murder you, Cynthia, and it’s not even a man but a crystal mirage!

You bite your lip as you prepare for your next move.

> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the man.
> Attempt to shatter one of the walls with [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’].
> Summon a spell from within your grimoire. It is unlikely the man will be able to take it from you.
> “I am Cynthia, can’t you see, Labrys? Aren’t you supposed to be perceptive?! Why are you attacking me?”
> [Write In]

>>4555219
>> Attempt to shatter one of the walls with [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’].
fuck it we gotta try

>>4555219
>Attempt to shatter one of the walls with [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’].

>>4555219
>> Attempt to shatter one of the walls with [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’].

>>4555219
>> Attempt to shatter one of the walls with [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’].

>>4555219
>Attempt to shatter one of the walls with [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’].

You turn away and run as fast as possible to the other side of the crimson hollow. You hurryingly leap across the crystal floor to reach the opposite wall; your reflection echoes, slide over and bounces through the thousand of the mirror-like gemstone formations similarly.

As you run away, you awkwardly unsheathe Virginia's long sabre from its scabbard. Your feet slide as you come to a sudden and awkward stop. The slippery yet jagged surface twists and smashes your left boot against the bottom of the solid crystal wall. You use this to your advantage.

Winding your body for a powerful swing, you place your second palm upon the quilt mid-air and then, once your grip is strengthened and tightened, you slam the full blade against the wall. There’s a loud piercing noise as the white metal clangs against the scarlet gems. The barely present silvery-blue rust overwhelms the blade with a bright runic radiance. Waves of blinding white flames flow over to smoulder and scorch the red surface. However, aside from forcing a layer of a charred shadow, the barrier stands near-undamaged. The flames of your sword bounce back like a blazing tornado only to soon disappear into the natural mana.

Hundreds of your reflections, some as pristine copies and some as distorted messes, are painted over the images of the hulking man. You feel his intimidating aura harden the air as you look back at him nearing...

[Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] [7/10 CHARGES]

“You are a bit pathetic, aren’t you?” the booming voice of Labrys’ manifestation questions, “If you want to be like me you will have to –fight-!”

You lean your back against the wall. You tightly grip your sword and wand. You try to calm yourself, but it is hard not to feel yourself panic...

You watch his muscle tighten as he hardens the grip on his massive axe; it is overflowing with amber-brown magical energy. He finally charges.

> Please roll 1d100 (-10) – best of three – to avoid the attack. Please avoid it.

Rolled 100 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4556435

>>4556439
damn

>>4556439
Nice roll bro!

Rolled 47 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4556435
>Just to get to the three rolls

Rolled 24 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4556435
>Imagine nat1

> [That was indeed an epic roll. I will be making a pause today and returning tomorrow, see you then!]

Be it thanks to a rush of adrenaline pumping through your blood – you have every right to be afraid of getting impaled by the “Behemoth Beheader” – or your instincts and luck, but you are somehow able to move away from the meeting point of the man’s axe tossing and swinging. The heavy, shining axe-head whirls pass your petite body and, as soon as you successfully leap away from the explosion of mana that follows, swipes and impales itself deep into the crystal wall.

A lightning ray, just like the one before, enters and flows through the magically infused metal of the axe. A loud crackle bursts from the edge before a massive and deafening explosion spreads across the chamber. A blast of overwhelming magical aura and thousands of brittle, yet sharp, shards follows.

An enormous crack appears and continues to spread below and above where the axe is stuck to... You briefly cover your face with promptly infused remains of your enriched scarf to protect yourself from them.

The massive fracture divides itself into multiple thinner and smaller ones, as it continues to spread across the entire hollow. The scarlet-red ores – in haste – try to re-grow and restore the inner surface of the cavern. This “Mana Shear” has incredibly fast regenerative abilities, but even they are unable to keep up with the damaged caused by the spell.

You can’t help but exhale in relief that you’ve managed to avoid it. You take a few steps back to witness the future-mirage-of-Labrys finally free his axe and toss the wooden (?) body of it upon his shoulder. How can their spells survive so many uses?!

A hundred images of the gemstone fragments reflect upon the mirror-like ceiling and walls and flicker in twisted purple-red radiance. Your and the man’s figures twist, bend and multiple in the distorted and opaque polished hollow of reflections. You anxiously grip your wand...

Then, in one of the many reflections, you notice a person: Labrys. Unlike all the other reflections, he looks the way he did when the two of you walked into the chamber. “Beloved Cynthia!” your hear him shout, although his voice is somewhat butchered when it reaches you...

“Labrys?” you make sure to notice his presence and words as you look directly at the one fragment of the gemstone cavern that reflects him.

In that one chunk, you also catch a very small glimpse of your mirage self, although her figure is so small you are unable to see anything else.

“Fascinating Cynthia, I am fighting you right now,” you hear Labrys say as you finally notice blood dripping down his neck. Unlike you, he was not so lucky to avoid her attacks. “I’ll be honest, if everything goes as you plan it to, much later, you are going to be a startling Magic Knight in the future!”

At least he is not seriously injured... You shake your head. “Labrys, we have to find a way to break free! They are much more powerful than us!”

Labrys silences his weak and injured chuckle. “Either one of us just have to land a few more hits, I don’t think they can survive more.” He pauses, “If we can get a hit, we are probably going to get ‘switched’ one, or a few more, times. They are glass pillars, delightful Cynthia, not very durable!”

“I can’t! I’ve tried to but they just keep avoiding my attacks!” Your eyes widen, “How -did- you manage to damage ‘yourself’?”

The man walking towards you raises his axe and a trickling mist of powerful amber magic begins to flow and surround the axe-head again.

“My ‘reflection’ summoned an 'Axe Spell' I do not possess in my grimoire, a much more powerful one! I managed to steal the possession of that spell from ‘im and hit him with his spell! But, you are right; they are much dodgier than us! And I can’t do the same trick with ‘you’!”

Damn it. Unless you are willing to risk your life a few more times to have future-mirage-of-Labrys destroy the crimson cavern completely, simply dodging the attack is not a good strategy. But, at this rate, is there anything else you can do but hope that you or Labrys can take a hit?

What do you have that neither of the future-mirages does? Union Magic... but how would you even combine Axe Magic and Linen Magic?

“Perhaps, angelic Cynthia, you can tell me a weakness or two?”

What weakness? This is your perfect self, there’s no way to outsmart that!

> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the man.
> Summon [Linen Magic: Flaying Chenille Threads] on the man.
> Summon [Linen Magic: Weighted Blanket] to capture the man.
> Summon [Linen Magic: Frock of Daydream] and attempt to surround the real Labrys with it.
> Summon another spell from your grimoire. [What?] [How?]
> Convince Labrys to try and manifest [Union Magic]. [Decide which one of you will benefit from it you can create it.]
> [Write In]

> [I noticed that Flaying Chenille Threads is missing an SDR. It is 30. If the enemy is captured by this spell he needs to use an offensive spell, a magic tool, or similar and deal 30 roll result to free himself before the next turn they are drained of magic. The SDR of Weighted Blanket is 15.

> [Sorry for the delay.]

>>4558496
> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the man.
we haven't actually swung this at any of the crystal mirages

>>4558496
> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the man.

>>4558528
> [I assume people avoided it because of the low DR30.]

>>4558496
>> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the man.

>>4558567
>>4558638
should we switch our vote due to the fact that the dr for dodging our attack is so low?

>>4558916
Let's give the sword a try, if it doesn't work, we'll switch things up. Maybe try the Union Magic option?

>>4558496
Summon [Linen Magic: Weighted Blanket] to capture the man.

>>4558496
Summon [Linen Magic: Weighted Blanket] to capture the man.

As powerful as the sword is it only has so many charges, I'm also really hoping that Cynthia doesn't start thinking about her future self having sequin magic. It might not be as strong as true linnen magic but it will give acces to a wider variety of spells

“I don’t think that person has any weaknesses you can expose,” you exhale to Labrys before you turn to face his fine-looking future-self.

Your hand nervously twitching, your fingers slide over and clutch the leathery binding of the blade’s hilt. You are not a swordsman, so you will have to put all your effort if you wish to successfully land a hit on future-mirage-of-Labrys. You gracelessly direct the blunted edge of the ancient sword downwards before you lift the white metal above your head as if you were penetrating the vermilion glow. It is cumbersome if anything.

“You are going to use a sword?” you hear the man’s voice question you as his sparkling-with-gold eyes widen, “Are you trying to be clever?”

You flinch; your grasp tightening, “Come...”

The tall man smirks as you step away from the fractured surface to draw closer towards his presence. His axe is huge and heavy, and it is undoubtedly a two-hander; yet, he is still able to easily lift it above his head and then to his right side using only one of his hands. His muscles bulge. With his left hand, he makes all the motions one would carry on to call forth and then flip through the pages of a grimoire. It is not visible or tangible to you, however, but he is obviously able to use it. You can’t let him summon a spell, so you, as reckless as it is to do, charge to intercept.

While he is much taller than you, his grizzly bear-like stature is inextricably eclipsing. While he’s not as well-build as the mirage of Labrys’ father, his body is still beastly. Twisting your body, you panic. Once his shadow flails pass you, you swing it downwards in an attempt to strike the man from his shoulder. However, the man swipes away your blade and your hand with a furious and loud bash. The metal clangs, but stands undamaged. You yell in pain as you feel your bones and muscle tissues twist and begin to twitch and spasm. You collapse with your entire arm trembling in pain.

You find it in your strength to lean back on your knee. Not wasting a moment, the man effortlessly hoists the cleaver above your head. You close your eyes and focus. Biting your lip as hard as possible to take your mind off the pain in your arm, you demand your body to fall onwards; you toss the end of the blade in a thrusting motion. After an excruciatingly long moment, you feel it push through something very soft: his stomach. Another blast of wind sends your hair into a turmoil as the axe’s blade stops inches away from your skull. You summon the magic within...

[Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] [6/10 CHARGES]

The beautiful white fire is given birth from the elfin cinders of the blue rust corroding the sword. Quickly and rapidly, it overwhelms and blazes over the blade and into his open wound. Yelling in pain, the man kicks you into your stomach as you try your best to avoid taking a direct hit. It leaves no injury, but it is painful. You fly through the air and then collapse on the rough crystal surface as you watch him battle the “Cauterizing Fire”. He grabs the hilt of the sword and removes it from his stomach, tossing it onto the ground. Still, the zealous white fire proceeds to burn...

Soon, his wound cracks like a stone and then his flesh turns rigid and edgy. An opaque cloud of amber-red hues covers his entire body seconds before he is transformed into a red-gem pillar. You pick yourself up and quickly reclaim the sword before the pillar begins to transform again...

As soon as it takes the form of your future-self, she attempts to drag your grimoire towards herself. You stop and grapple it, although the pull is hard to manage. Once she is finally formed, you notice that she is bleeding from the same places both you and Labrys wounded the mirage-man.

You can’t help but step away when she tries to approach you. She does not have a Magic Tool; perhaps this is the one advantage you have here...

She then stops and gracefully leans to pick up a tome of magic: Sequin Magic Grimoire. You quickly realize that you have dropped it beforehand.

She sighs and leads her palm to remove the crimson dust from its cover:

“It is not in my best interest to prolong this fight any further.”

Does that mean she is able – and you will be able to in the future – use Sequin Magic? No, she’s an element of your thoughts, you only assume...

“True Linen Magic allows me to use it,” she interrupts your thoughts as if she was part of your inner-mind-conversation this whole damn time. She lets herself play with the grimoire of Sequin Magic before she closes and carelessly throws it away, “That’s what you were hoping for, deep inside? Using two grimoires, indeed, glanderous... But it’s neither time nor place for that, and I’m going to conclude this in a different, trustworthy way...”

She raises her white-gloved hand, and the crimson light reflecting off the crystal walls concentrates on her in a much brighter manner. From the radiant spark, a pillar of red light begins to take shape before a sword is manifested. It looks exactly like yours, with the same-exact runic magic...

There’s being ironic and then there’s being...

She lowers it and shrugs her shoulder, “You’d like to be able to wield it properly, and I will show you how to do just that: ‘Mana Skin’.”

From her feet and then all across her body, a flurry of mercury magic torrents upwards. Like a raging tornado, it swirls around her until it finally calms down. A bright silver aura is now surrounding your future-mirage-self. She points the sword towards you, her eyes burning grey with mana.

> “Mana Zone, Mana Skin, True Linen Magic... Next, you will be telling me that I am now the number-one-most-trusted-advisor of the Magic Emperor!”
> “No, please, do show my inexperienced self how ‘True Linen Magic’ looks. Can’t I ask to see at least so much before my death?”
> “Can you please stop copying me!”
> “You are amazing; I am amazing. I really-really-really wish to end up like you in the future, so please-please-please let me do just that!”
> “If I promise to leave this chamber alone can you please let us leave?”
> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the woman.
> Attempt to avoid her attack. Pray that Labrys can hit his future-reflection, as well pray that it’ll be all it takes to end this mess.
> Summon a spell from within your grimoire. [Which?] [How?]
> You can’t spot Labrys in any of the reflections, but he must be there. Try to sense his presence and then attempt to manifest [Union Magic].
> [Write In]

>>4559617
shit this is a hard choice

>>4559652 isn't wrong, this is a hard choice, that said
>>4559617
> “You are amazing; I am amazing. I really-really-really wish to end up like you in the future, so please-please-please let me do just that!”

>>4559617
> “You are amazing; I am amazing. I really-really-really wish to end up like you in the future, so please-please-please let me do just that!”

>>4559671
>>4559675
this option is kinda risky since it can accidentally make her stronger

>>4559617
Man I can't play 18D chess with ourselves

“You are amazing; I am amazing. I really-really-really wish to end up like you in the future, so please-please-please let me do just that!”

She is supposed to be you, a harmonic clutter of your wishes, emotions and memories, but you are still unable to convince her. She begins to charge towards you with her body elegantly bent downwards. She slowly raises and then tilts her head. Her patterned dress, like the body of a swan, clings to skin from the front and beautifully flutters behind her. Using “Mana Skin”, she shortens the distance before you can realize it.

A bit, she hesitates, but then her voice echoes as strong as iron. “I’m afraid we belong to the crimson hollow now; you and your soul of mana.”

The sword grinds and creates ivory-hued sparks as she drags it against the ground seconds before she throws it towards you.

> Please roll 1d100 (-10) – best of three – to avoid the attack.
> [Write In]

[Forgot my trip]

Rolled 75 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4560818
It was worth a shot I guess

Rolled 44 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4560818

Rolled 93 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4560818

>>4561076
Good roll anon!
I wouldn't mind asking her to attack us with spells we don't have, but each one risk us getting injured so... I'm not sure.

Your phantasm-reflection is moving with an incredible speed. Like a rapid and fiery comet, she flurries the edge of the blade into your heart. You have no time to dodge or even to parry her; the “Mana Skin” allows her to move with near-unsurpassable swiftness. In a desperate panic you turn and raise Virginia’s sword to protect your upper body from the slash. With a lurid splash of sparks and embers the edge of her sword frazzles against yours. Seconds afterwards, you feel the full force of her blow. Your blade is pushed into your chest to bend your muscles and bones. You cry out in pain before you barely stop yourself from vomiting. You stumble back on your feet. Wincing, you lower your sword...

> Swing the [Magic Relic: Blessed Sword ‘Cauterizing Fire’] at the woman.
> Summon a spell from within your grimoire. [Which?] [How?]
> Think about it rationally; there is no way someone like you’ll be able to learn “Mana Skin”! Focus on that thought.
> You know that you will return safely from here and then hand in the blade back to Virginia! Your future self shouldn’t have it!
> [Write In]

>>4561999
>You know that you will return safely from here and then hand in the blade back to Virginia! Your future self shouldn’t have it!

>>4561999
>You know that you will return safely from here and then hand in the blade back to Virginia! Your future self shouldn’t have it!

>>4561999
> You know that you will return safely from here and then hand in the blade back to Virginia! Your future self shouldn’t have it!

>>4561999
> You know that you will return safely from here and then hand in the blade back to Virginia! Your future self shouldn’t have it!

>>4561999
> You know that you will return safely from here and then hand in the blade back to Virginia! Your future self shouldn’t have it!

Still choking for breath, you leap away and create some – likely useless – distance between yourself and the woman. Infused with potent magic of her inner mana, her moves are like those of a spectre. She is a dazzling spectacle surrounded in a storm of sequin mercury... It is hard to focus on.

The woman made the clone of your blade on her own accord; she said she was an amalgam of more than just your thoughts and wishes, but even considering all those things... there is no future in which you’ll end up possessing Virginia’s blade. 'You will return it' You focus on that thought.

As you concentrate on this sentiment, you notice that her sword begins to crack and change. A scarlet shine smoulders past its magic metal and hilt before it briefly begins to resemble a broken branch of sharp red gems.

The woman suddenly stops – the mana skin trickles off the edges of her dress to gently fall upon the crystal ground and vanish like snow during the concise moments of warmth. She looks at the sword and then at you.

“You don’t think you will be its owner?” she asks you with a serene suspire.

You shake your head. You do not reply, knowing full well that your words are venom she can use against you. However, damn, so are your thoughts!

She calmly lowers the sword to drag it against the ground. Her voice remains confident and relaxed. “Wardress Virginia is going to retire someday; such day will not be soon, but it will happen eventually. This sword is the only ‘Magic Relic’ that exists in the Clover Kingdom, and it will remain that way as no other mage will possess such magic or have the means to create such a potent weapon.” She continues to softly step towards you and, even though you try and keep farness between the two of you, you quickly realize that the wall is not too far to get in your way.

“She will entrust you with it on that day, and you will be very grateful and accept it. With ‘Mana Skin’ and much rigours training, it’ll serve you well.” You notice that the crystal clump begins to soften and reclaim its metallic sword-like features. It ever-so-slowly fluctuates between the two forms...

You close your eyes and angrily shake your head. You yell, “No, I’m not going to accept it. That’s not what’ll happen!”

Your back finally hits the whetted hollow of the cavern.

You grunt as you raise your head to see her twisting her sword.

“It doesn’t seem like that’s the truth, is it?” she raises her hand; she points towards your grimoire, mana trickling down her fingers, “First... let’s restrain you. As I said, you are someone quite dexterous – although me praising myself is not something you should be feeling happy about...”

> No, even if that will happen in the future you will not accept Virginia’s sword. Make a promise to yourself.
> Keep a tight hold of your grimoire and summon a spell yourself. [Which] [How?]
> Lunge at the woman with Virginia’s sword before she can do the same first.
> Try to sense Labry’s presence and then attempt to manifest [Union Magic].
> Continue avoiding the future-mirage-of-self; hope that Labrys will be able to deal with his mirage.
> [Write In]

> [Fun fact, it was a choice between 'Black Clover', 'One Piece' and 'Shaman King' for the quest I was planning to run.]

>>4562983
this choice is quite hard

>>4562983
> No, even if that will happen in the future you will not accept Virginia’s sword. Make a promise to yourself.
the sword isn't even that good, we could find better swords later if we were to use a sword

>>4562981
>No, even if that will happen in the future you will not accept Virginia’s sword. Make a promise to yourself.

Honestly I can see the magic emperor wanting it since it is unique. A shaman king quest would have been interesting as well

>>4562983
> No, even if that will happen in the future you will not accept Virginia’s sword. Make a promise to yourself.

>>4563024
> [The sword is pretty good. It has 10 charges for the price of only 50 mana. Other Magic Tools will have less charges and higher price, sometimes by a lot. Cynthia's 30DR is because she's an amateur swordsman, Virginia and Not!Cynthia have bigger DRs.]

You clench your eyes shut. Raising your sword above you, you bend your body and cover your head from what sinister plans your reflection is planning forth next. A mirage; a reflection – that’s what she is. Even though you are not in a complete control of your memories and mind, you are in control of your desires and oaths. And you know that you are not a swordsman, and you do not wish to be one. If the time really comes for Wardress Virginia to give away her sword, it will not be to you; you will refuse. The woman has already showed you a way to protect yourself.

Another draft of cold wind caresses your skin as you sense her stopping in the middle of her joust. You open your eyes to see her face inches away from yours. Flux of her gray aura sweeps and scraps your skin as her eyes – overflowing with silver shine – stare you down. It is then you realize that her fingers are reaching for the empty air. Smithereens of crimson amber roll off her shoulders and then collapse upon the surface.

As soon as you sigh with relief, she lowers her hand and smashes her elbow against your wrist; the wrist holding Virginia’s sword. Your arm painfully jolts and, with a loose grip, your sword slides out of your palm. In haste, you leap for the sword to grab it. With a tight grip, you take the hilt. Mid-jump, you realize that the woman’s empty hand has landed on the cover of your grimoire. Now opened, it flips through the pages.

“Linen Magic: Butcher’s Gyves”

> Please roll 1d100 (-10) – best of three – to avoid the attack.

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>4564078
yes the sword may be good but when are we ever going to get a chance to practice using a sword

Rolled 89 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4564078

Rolled 57 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>4564078
>>4564087
I'd imagine if we get another timeskip like we did before we became a Magic Knight, we'd have the option of practicing

> [I apologize, no update today. You have dodged successfully.]

>>4565573
no worries

>>4565573
What >>4565674 said

You recoil back from the woman as her burst of silvery magic turns into a foul black effluence. An empty page of your grimoire shines with powerful magic energy. Weightless oily clasps and coils begin to form above your head as try to find a way to escape. Quickly, several of the ebony strands pair up and begin to entwine and tighten around each other as if they were spinning into linen threads; much like the rest of your magic spells. However, the magic within those ligatures has a sinister undertone. Hardening like cement, a cage – a ribcage – begins to form all around you. The skeleton-like frame rattles and clangs with a painful cacophony before all the cordage strands begin to bring themselves tighter.

The space between the encroaching ink-black hawsers quickly lessens as it attempts to entrap you. Wasting no time, you charge towards one of the ends to break out before it can capture you. You quickly realize that it is not going to be enough, and you will have to scrape by and through those threads – and who knows what’ll happen once you will touch them? You press your hand against the left-over-rags of your enriched linen and infuse them with as much magic as you possibly gather. Sparkling with silver radiance, the linen cloth covers your head, neck and shoulders in a layer of – with a bit of luck – protection. You leap between the two slate tendrils as the stygian cage constricts even further...

You come to a sudden stop body smashes and your arms and shoulders twist as you find yourself glued between the dark-ivory filigrees. You concentrate further as you push your body to its limit. You allow Linen Magic flowing through your body and clothes to become your shield, as well as a fuel-boost to your dexterity and strength. You heighten all your senses. You keep hold tight on your sword; just in case. You push further.

Sizzling against the magic of your reflection, your scarf shields your skin from the nefarious outflow. Seconds before it fully surrounds your body, you squeeze between them. You create further distance before you finally turn around and let the scarf fall off your shoulders. Withering black fibbers, like dying maggots, are holding to your scarf; you stop yourself from squealing as they - thankfully - soon disintegrate. The cage continues to become even narrower – anything placed within would be crushed into a bloody mess. It stops when the “bones” begin to tremble.

The magic starts to break apart and crumble into mercury flakes, and then into the invisible natural mana. You watch the woman very closely.

She holds a longing stare on her failed spell before she briefly leads her finger across the edge of her hat. She strokes the bunny ears and sighs.

“You are a rabbit, indeed,” she says with a hard-to-recognize emotion. “A nimble hare that is hard to capture.” She smiles, “But... fire with fire...”

She raises her hand and, just like before, the overwhelming aura of her “Mana Skin” explodes and spreads like scorching sunshine. “Mana Zone.” The overpowering scarlet presence of the hollow is completely vanquished by another, much more dominant colour – grey-white.

Inside this shining silver cavern, her presence becomes more blinding. You hoped it was not possible, but inside the “Mana Zone,” her “Mana Skin” is even more turbulent. Your body trembles at the immense and ridiculous pressure. The grey cavern crystals begin to stridently chime.

> Summon forth a spell. [Which] [How?]
> Lunge at the woman with Virginia’s sword.
> Try to sense Labrys’s presence and then attempt to manifest [Union Magic].
> Meditate. Focus and concentrate on the [Mana Zone].
> [Write In]

>>4566084
>> Meditate. Focus and concentrate on the [Mana Zone].
I am curious

>>4566084
>> Meditate. Focus and concentrate on the [Mana Zone].
Please work this time

>>4566084
>Meditate. Focus and concentrate on the [Mana Zone].
If we can master it we'll get much stronger fast

>>4566084
> Meditate. Focus and concentrate on the [Mana Zone].
We must pass over limits!

> [I will need 3 1d180 rolls, like before.]

Rolled 128 (1d180)

>>4567267

Rolled 107 (1d180)

>>4567267

Rolled 153 (1d180)

>>4567267

>>4567326
This seems pretty high hopefully it passes the dc

>>4567695
The sum of the rolls just had to be greater than 180 based on what Melk said the last time we tried this. Our total was 388, more than twice of our target goal.

I just realized something, one of the key parts of Cynthias personality is her being ambitious

>>4568647
is it?

>>4568864
well less ambition more like trying to get stronger

File: Mana Zone.jpg (120 KB, 1918x1078)

120 KB JPG

You try to fight the heaviness of the “Mana Zone” suddenly manifested by your reflection-mirage. She burns like a leaden torchlight; her body is completely engulfed in her incomprehensible and unapproachable “Mana Skin”. The pressure is immense and vast, and very soon, your magic presence becomes nothing but a flame of a match tossed inside a forest fire. The overpowering nature blunts your mind and deafens your senses.

Briefly, it reminds you of the time you first encountered Wardress Virginia yet... while you were -afraid- for your life back then, here you feel yourself stepping off the edge of a tall cliff: now mid-fall and surrendering your life to the predestination. Your body and your mana soul will not protect you.

Your body is stiff – almost statuesque – and to soften it takes a lot of effort. You are well aware that the woman is preparing another attack, and eventually, you will fail to evade one. Is there anything else you can do? You close your eyes: the usual darkness of your mind is bursting with powerful colours of grey and white. Those colours and vivid displays quickly shift from pleasant to headache-inducing.

You bite your lips and clench your eyes even tighter. If you allow yourself to be drifted into the whirlpool of the “Mana Zone”, it’s unlikely you’ll be able to fight the powerful current. Struggling against the pressure, you calm your nerves. You know that she is preparing her spell, and with you lowering your guard, that spell will be able to hit you without a moments’ notice. That is a worry you somehow manage to hide...

You take a deep breath, and then a prolonged exhale. Despite the raging luridness inside of your mind, you manage to create a very thin and wavering layer of mana to rest between you and the “Mana Zone”. You feel something ticklish momentarily caress the fingers of your hand, and your mana within it. The shapeless blur you see finds its form in the silhouette of a fluttering bird. The trembling sway of its wings is silent and still. It flies into the distance only to gracefully turn around and continue to move in a spiralling trajectory. You watch as the quicksilver-hued plumes behind that one bird become a trailing flock of birds. Before you, you witness dozens of such birds flowing through the environment.

There’s a faith presence of so-familiar magic in each of those birds. Is this the natural flow of mana? It is a strange sensation; you feel as if you are floating through the cloudy ether. You remember now. Once, long ago, there was a horrible magic earthquake ravaging the nearby villages surrounding Kikka. The underground eruption was relentless and unstoppable, and the town, with your family included, was preparing to be evacuated. You remember the hopeless feeling when the tremor reached the city-state. It seemed as if the town was going to be entirely buried.

It was then a Magic Knight appeared to save you. You do not remember his face, or his Squad, or even his name... but you remember him manifesting the “Mana Zone” across the entirety of the High Street. He was capable to successfully calm down the mana of the earthquake.

“Mana Zone.” > You stand in the centre of the “Mana Zone”. The world around you is blooming with mana that you now find yourself able to reach and touch.

> Your next cast spell does not take away from your mana reserves.
> The effects of the Grand Magic Zones are weakened against you.

> [Also adds one ‘Supplementary Buff’ to your next spell.]
> The DR of your next spell is raised by 10.
> Your next spell targets 1 additional person.
> Your next spell is empowered [Depends on the Form].
> Your next spell lasts longer [Depends on the Form].

> [Write In]

>>4569132
what are we supposed to write in? a spell or something else?

> [Prompt suggestion is to cast a spell. Write-In for anything else you'd like to try to do.]

I hope some other anon can come up with a plan since I have no idea what we should do

>>4569205
is the supplementary buff we can choose one of those options under the thing that says we can add a supplementary buff to our next spell?

>>4569476
I imagine so. I hope muti cricket effect is still here.
> Flaying Chenille Threads
> Raise DR buff

>>4569576
>>4569132
+1 I can't really think of anything else we can do

>>4569576
Yeah i can get behind this

>>4569132
>>4569576, don't have any better ideas myself

With the ardent magic flame fiercely effulging the woman's entire body, she charges towards you. She disappears in the radiant abundance of mana surrounding both of you. Her smouldering figure vanishes in a radiant ripple of light; her presence is no longer visible to the naked eye.

Her shapeless existence traverses the “Mana Zone” with a viperous and rapid momentum; it is only because the “two” of you are the possessors of the same Linen Magic that the “Mana Zone” can abide you. While you are still tightly holding the sword's hilt, you clench both end sides of your grimoire before you open and shove it towards her. The cursive-mystical characters within the page of your magic book begin to loudly sibilate.

“Linen Magic: Flaying Chenille Threads.”

However, this time, instead of forming from within your body, the spell begins to intertwine and interact with the magic around you! The pristine sparkling fragments of the passing and buyout birds quickly gather around the woman’s approaching emanation. The spell continues to take shape and follow the woman all at the same time.

Chatoyant cloudy textile forms beneath her indiscernible feet before, like tentacles, the trails of lustrous vapour shift into a shimmering light-blue yarn. A blinding white veil suddenly evaporates to reveal the figure of your reflection-self. Her entire body is forcefully pushed back and then restrained with semi-transparent, intangible wefts of your great magic spell!

Finally!

Grasping for breath, you grip and refuse to lower your grimoire. All this time in the “Mana Zone” you have been feeling lightheaded and tired, but the sudden feeling which hits you is far more harmful. As if you were drunk and drugged, your body starts to feel intangible. You begin to squirm and thrash uncomfortably and uncontrollably.

It is painful... You can feel your mana soul, moving like an oozing liquid bubble, gouge and gurgle within you. With every second, its mana flow becomes much more disobedient and mad, as if it was a hurricane wave. Then, it begins to push out of your body, as if there wasn’t a layer of meat and bones to contain your spirit.

You try your best to concentrate against the discordant situation but you are unable to do so. Then, you experience an anguish unlike any other in your living life. One of the birds of mana flow passes over your head and rips into and then bites off a chunk of your escaping mana. Instead of shimmering majestic doves, those birds turn into crows – no (!) – vultures. There is an endless trail of those birds floating behind each other... And each of them takes a huge mouthful of your own mana.

> Please roll 1d114 [Your current mana] – worst of three.

Rolled 53 (1d114)

>>4570455

Rolled 59 (1d114)

>>4570455

Rolled 35 (1d114)

>>4570466

>worst of three.

>>4571026
well it is beneficial for us to toll low

> [I apologize but I did not have the time today to write an update. It looks like I'll need a new thread as well...]

>>4571978
no worries

>>4571978
Real life comes first

>>4571978
I have no issues waiting until you are able to write. I'm enjoying the whole ride and wish I could vote more often but work gets in the way a lot.

>>4573325
>>4573325
>>4573325

> [Thanks for the kind words.]