Immovable Mage

– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 218, Season of the Setting Sun, Day 85 –

Some martialists took courage at Guillermo’s frown after Terry’s suggestion and they dared to speak up again.

“So you’re telling us that something oh-so-terrible is going to come from down there and you want us to go greet it? Are you mental?”

“Is this a scam?” Rafael growled with wariness.

“Madness.”

Terry suppressed his retorts. He had sensed another change and was trying to figure out the source of this new sense of discomfort.

It felt familiar.

“Oh…” Terry tentatively burst his mana. He could hear a shattering sound in his mind. “Great.” He was scowling. Unknowingly, his scowl caused the latest speaker, whom Terry had ignored so far, to flinch and step back. Terry, however, did not pay the martialist any mind. “The dungeon is setting up a spatial lock.”

The martialists just stared at Terry.

How do I prove a spatial lock to people unfamiliar with space magic?

Perhaps I— Oh.

The magic moons in the sky pulsed orange once more. A fourth flash.

“What the—?” Many of the martialists broke out in an uproar.

One pulse on contact.

Second pulse on… Terry tried to remember the timing but realized that he had missed the moment of the second flash. He sensed something change shortly after this new orange flash. The feeling of discomfort had returned again.

Could it be? Terry made a guess about the motivation behind the flashes. Perhaps these were neither of dungeon origin nor from the generations of martialists that had set up the trials. What if this magic had the same origin as the folded space?

“I’ve never heard about a fourth flash…”

“It is likely that no one has ever stayed around to tell the tale.”

Terry resolved himself to test his guess. “How about a fifth?” He burst his mana. Another shattering sound.

“What are you—? Heavens!”

Terry took confidence in seeing another orange pulse emitted from the magic moons.

A signal that things are about to start. A warning that there is no turning back.

He would have liked thinking deeper into this, particularly about the different attitudes that such a warning symbolized in contrast to the cruel nature of the tickets’ entrance and exit quota.

Different actors. Different times.

Unfortunately for Terry, another realization forced itself upon him. If the dungeon or the mages of the past felt it necessary to enforce spatial locks, then the invaders might be capable of space magic. Capable enough to escape this folded space if left unsealed.

Sabotaging the spatial lock might open a path for the invaders to breach into Terry’s native realm. Where did that leave him with his spatial lock breaking mana bursts?

Crap.

Terry was still cursing in his thoughts when he realized that all the martialists were staring at him.

“A-are you really an elder that is hiding his age?” One martialist meekly muttered.

“No, what?” Terry was brought back to reality by the sheer weirdness of the question. “Where did that come from?”

The martialist cleared his throat and replied. “I thought not. Uh…”

“Then how did you do that?” asked Chun. The tall woman was standing next to Zhang and was suddenly all attention.

“Is the rest you spoke of true?” asked Guillermo with a grave tone.

“I think so,” replied Terry without hesitation.

“Then why did you stay behind?” asked the sister from the Blazing Sun siblings. “It wasn’t your problem. I didn’t think you had any close friends here either. From what I know…” She glanced fleetingly at the leopard-spotted felan closeby. “...you never wanted to be here in the first place.”

“Who says that the invaders would stop here?” Terry spoke honestly. “I recognize…” He bit his bottom lip. “I recognize the flame symbols on the constructs. They have meaning. The purple dungeon marks scattered around the folded space and its shadow plane. They have meaning. Whatever their creators were worried about, we should all be worried about. All of us.”

Terry could see that his answer wasn’t enough. “Both the symbols and the marks are related to the Veilbinder.”

“To whom?”

“Country bumpkin. That’s another name for the Godslaying Mortal.”

“What? Why would anyone use such a name for the Godslaying Mortal? Makes him sound like a seamstress. ‘Veilbinder’? Really?”

The woman from the Blazing Sun Sect stepped to Terry and held out her hand. Terry was not sure what to make of it, but decided to accept the handshake. Unexpectedly, she leaned close to his ear.

“Annabelle,” whispered the woman before stepping back and continuing in a louder tone. “If we are to die together, we might as well do it properly.”

“Wait a second, I still don’t believe this,” interjected another martialist.

“Who cares?” barked Guillermo. “A death is a death.”

“If Terry is right, then…” Zhang could not help but glance at Chun.

“If I am right, then we do not have much time to prepare,” stressed Terry. “The dungeon has awoken early, but probably not by much.”

Exactly one year was the original estimate. Already a few reports about the pocket realm closing sooner every time. Not many days left, even if the dungeon’s early awakening did not mess up the timeline.

“You’re all mad,” said one martialist. “I’m leaving.”

“Yeah, even if something is coming, it just means I’ll have to hide until it’s gone.”

“No one has ever survived before.”

“Watch me then.”

Terry caught a familiar face among the martialists wanting to leave. It was a woman from the Thunderous Palm Sect. The woman had killed two of her own sect members in exchange for one Lightning Heart Peach each.

“I offer cultivation resources to everyone that stays to prepare.” Terry heard himself say. He glanced at Annabelle and continued: “Artifacts to everyone that is following my plan. Everything I possess and do not use myself.”

Many of the martialists about to leave turned around and stayed.

“For anyone that dares to accept resources and then backs out, I’ll offer a quick death,” added Guillermo loudly.

Some of the martialists did another turn to get away as fast as they could. Meanwhile, Terry nodded to Guillermo to thank him for the reminder about the characters whom he was dealing with.

“So, how about the Third Staff of the Monkey King?” One courageous martialist asked Terry.

“That I use myself,” replied Terry warily. He felt like he was wading into war with a group of violent overgrown kindergarteners.

I’ll take what I can get.

He clenched his fists and raised his head to gaze at the magic moons in the sky. “I have to prepare…”

“The cultivation resources?” A group of martialists was immediately pestering Terry for the promised benefits.

Terry focused on his breathing to manage his own temper. His attention was subconsciously drawn to a human woman in yellow combat robes with a black sash around her waist. He could not place the mana signature but something about the woman’s posture seemed familiar even though he did not recognize her face.

Chalita shrunk back under Terry’s inquisitive eyes. She and the Arcanian were not on good terms after all. However, she desperately needed resources to adjust to her new body. Without them, she would die quickly, one way or another. She resolved herself. “Yes, it’s me, but hear me out…”

Terry brushed his left hand across his mouth as if he was wiping away blood from its corner. Of course, there was no blood, but he reflexively acted to hide some of his facial expressions in order to not let his honest face betray his thoughts.

It was only when the woman continued talking and explaining herself that Terry realized it was Chalita. He had no idea why her appearance and mana signature had changed so drastically, but it did not matter.

Once again, Terry had to consciously control his breathing to oppose his rising anger and to refrain from killing the woman for her past attempt on his own life. If he was to kill instead of providing the offered ressources, he would quickly lose his influence over the opportunistic martialists.

Worse, Terry feared that he sincerely needed every pair of fists he could get. He would very much like to avenge himself, but right now, he had another enemy to worry about. Chalita was strong, or used to be at least. Such a person could be of use.

I hate this place.

Terry swallowed his wrath and instead prepared to hand out some of the remaining mana-rich resources he still possessed.

Chalita could not help but show some surprise on her face. Recognizing some of the items, she almost felt like crying from relief. The sentiment was quickly replaced by a returning and growing ambition. These items would help her recover. She finally saw a glimmer of hope. A rope to latch onto in order to climb towards her revenge on Shen and beyond.

Not all of the surrounding martialists realized Chalita’s identity, but none of them failed to see the lingering grudge between the two.

“The Arcanian really means it, huh?”

The expressions among the observers varied. Some were elated to see the promise of benefits fulfilled. Many, however, lost their cheer entirely. They had heard about Terry hunting down those that had ambushed him. They could not help but ponder the implications of the vengeful Arcanian putting aside his personal grudge and even going so far as to share resources with a mortal enemy.

“He’s serious…” Grave whispers escaped from some of their lips.

***

Well done, Terry. You threw away your one chance to get away and return to your family. Now you’re stuck for good.

What if I’m wrong?

Terry had done his best to convince the martialists to stay and join, but his own doubts were still gnawing at his mind. He tried to focus on the task at hand in order to cling to a semblance of sanity.

He consciously circulated his mana with closed eyes.

He carefully moved more mana from his mana pool into circulation. He used his mana control to further compress the mana and he increased the speed until—

Terry heard a shattering sound and immediately opened his eyes with a scowl. “Another bust.” Soon afterwards, he could see the moons pulse with orange light again.

I have to figure out the limits.

Terry was not looking forward to a fight without bursts. The prospect was like fighting without his limbs. Without his mana bursts for enhancing his physical abilities or shifting through battle rhythms, Terry was…

Just a mage.

A mage with only a single spell.

Utter failure.

“Shut it.” Terry subconsciously bit the inside of his cheek to shut up his own intrusive thoughts.

In addition to my Immovable Object spell, I still have my mana-adjusted body and magic items.

Even though Terry tried to encourage himself, he knew deep down that he would feel crippled in battle. He closed his eyes for another attempt.

Thanks to his habitual training, his mana foundation was phenomenal for his age. Even in his balanced state, Terry would be able to hold his own against nearly all of the remaining martialists one against one.

Fighting one against many, however? Like in some of his other encounters throughout the year?

Terry did not like his chances. His balanced state did not feel like enough.

That was why he was frantically testing the limits for how much he could go beyond his naturally balanced state before breaking the spatial seal. He tested different circulation patterns and burst techniques. He needed answers and he had no idea how much time he had for finding them.

What if I’m wrong?

“Then I’ll have all the time I need,” hissed Terry to himself.

Despite his self-directed snark, he was getting anxious. If he was wrong, then he had lost his one chance to leave this folded space. If he was right, then he had to fight an uncertain battle while being severely handicapped.

What if I’m wrong?

The more time passed, the more Terry found it difficult to encourage himself. His mana perception showed continued changes in the pocket realm, but none that would match a veil tear.

So much for Terry the aspiring clairvoyant.

Terry, the failed prophet, more like.

Perhaps you should use that blue crystal egg from the lizan prophet before making further prediction attempts? That would fry your mind though. Whatever is left to fry anyway.

Just because I managed to predict a few mana resonance techniques, I thought I could predict veil tears? What was I thinking?

“Shut it.” Terry involuntarily let his frustration get the better of him. He accidentally used too much mana. A shattering sound greeted him immediately.

“Could you stop that?!” One martialist exclaimed in exasperation when yet another orange pulse was being emitted from the magic moons in the sky. “This shit is making me lose my peace!”

Terry scowled at the martialist.

“He’s right.” A familiar face spoke up. It was the elven man from the Skyriver Sect whom Terry had spared. “These flashes are too ominous. It’s disconcerting…”

“What’s your name?” asked Terry. …and I thought I let you off with a ticket back then. Did you lose it to someone else?

“Jason…” The man stepped back warily. He did not like being at the center of the Arcanian’s gaze.

“Tell the others that we’ll have to move soon.” Terry closed his eyes again. “The dungeon’s control is getting too close again.”

“Yes…” Jason happily backed away from him to pass on the message.

Unperturbed, Terry continued his attempts to discover the restrictions he was forced to accept if he wanted to keep the spatial seal intact. Eventually, after hours of experiments, he had nailed down the exact limits for his mana use depending on his circulation patterns and techniques.

If the situation wasn’t so frustrating, Terry would have been overjoyed at finally discovering an answer to a question he had held in his mind ever since the battle over Syn City. A question that had earned him a smack from Sigille’s staff for getting distracted in the middle of a burst technique lesson.

What was it about bursting that altered the interaction between oscillating mana and space magic? Why did Terry’s improved mana foundation not show the same effect as his past bursts even though all absolute measurements like mana throughput or velocity should be the same?

In the end, he had found the same answer he had already discovered for the effect of an oscillating mana charge on the activation delay of the Immovable Object spell.

Balance.

The items Terry aspected with the aspecting technique from Wallace and his dungeon scavengers carried an imbalance of oscillating mana spread throughout the item. The activation delay stood in relationship to the imbalance as well as to the position and mana amount of the Immovable Object spell structure.

From Terry’s rushed experimentation, it became clear that the relationship for bursts appeared similar. The effect was not hinging on any absolute metric, but in relation to his balanced state and mana pool. His inner Academy student was itching to get out his notebooks and experiment until he derived the exact function, but he knew that this was not the time.

Knew? Not quite, but Terry believed it was not the right time. He did not really know. He did not know when the real enemies were about to appear.

In fact, with every passing hour, Terry was becoming less certain that anything at all would appear. The only thing keeping him from losing himself in the derision of his own intrusive thoughts were his practice, his experiments, and all other steps he took to prepare himself and his questionable allies.

***

Terry was standing in a vast bubble of his own naturalized mana. Inside the bubble, spell structures were constantly shaping and vanishing without being ignited. Naturally, all of these spell structures were for the Immovable Object spell.

An ever increasing number of spell structures rippled like the tide over Terry’s mana. Some of the mana martialists had even stopped their own preparation to stare at him with their mana sight.

This was Terry’s solution to the mage-side problem of lacking access to bursts. If pressing too much mana along his mana channels for casting caused problems, then he would simply bypass the mana channels by maintaining an external mana pool.

He already had all the individual skills to make it work. Hands-free and parallel casting with increasing range. Naturalizing, reclaiming, and controlling mana from a distance. His mana foundation and spell control. His discharges and subsequent reclaiming of mana. His range training and mana touch. Every feat linked together to allow his current improvised workaround.

Unfortunately, there was no equivalent for the physical limitation imposed by a lack of bursts. Terry could bypass his mana channels and externalize his mana pool for his spellwork, but muscles weren’t as intangible as spell structures. He required his mana channels to infuse mana for physical performance enhancements.

Terry found something meditative in the whole exercise. Preparing the primed spell structure without ever igniting them. Tearing them down without ever targeting an object. The exercise helped calm his mind.

Even so, the uncertainty was increasingly getting to him, especially because there was a nagging voice reminding him that it was unwise to enter a battle without being properly rested. Naturally the voice sounded like his accepted parents.

What if I’m wrong?

Terry inhaled deeply and then whispered. “I’m not.”

Wishful thinking.

I thought we—

Terry whipped his head to the side and looked up into the sky where a low-concentration but large change in mana was manifesting.

“What?” Jason noticed his abrupt action and also looked up. Many other martialists followed to do the same.

A giant translucent silhouette appeared in the sky.

“Greetings, noble warriors.” The projection slowly took the shape of a man in embroidered combat robes. “It is I.”

Terry and many of the martialists scrunched up their faces. “Who?”

“Is this the senior that prepared the tomb? I’ve never seen him before…”

“Back when I reigned supreme over the Ten Martial Peaks, I beheld myself as the peak among the heavens and so it was…” The silhouette paused with significance.

“Ten Martial Peaks? What’s he on about?”

“Wait, I’ve heard…”

“I’ve crushed my enemies and built our Ten Martial Peaks up to its full glory.” The projection never stopped to react to any of the mutterings. “But I’m sure your sect elders have told you all about it.”

“Yeah, no…”

“What’s the Ten Martial Peaks?”

“I’ve done everything I could to prepare the Ten Martial Peaks to continue reigning supreme.” The projection made another weighty pause before lowering his head slightly. “I hope that you have not disappointed my expectations. With all that I provided, you as my descendants were set up to rule over the realm eventually. ”

“Uhh…”

“Come on, what’s the Ten Martial Peaks?” More and more people were pestering a woman that had vaguely remembered the name before.

“It’s a sect that perished during the middle of the Era of Upheaval. It was completely destroyed by the Lich Kingdoms. The only reason I heard of them is that I once researched the region where the Soaring Mountain Sect has settled. The Ten Martial Peaks were owning the region at some point. I believe the sect managed to last quite long before perishing.”

“Okay… Oy!” A man shouted at the projection. “Your descendants are all dead. Stop yapping!”

Again, the projection did not react to any of the hecklers.

“But there is more than this realm to worry about.” The translucent man shook his head. “When I reached the peak of power, I started taking an interest in traveling and following rumors. One of these rumors has led me to this place. The place of my sole regret.”

“Not just yours, geezer!” interjected one martialist. “I wish I’d never heard of the tickets.”

“When I entered this secluded space, I was first elated at its mystery.” The projection shook his head. “When I found the seal, I thought nothing of tearing it apart, only I failed to destroy it completely. This failure has been the biggest fortune of my life.” He lowered his gaze. “I set out to research and learn how to tear through the barrier. During my research, I learned of my own foolishness. Fortunately for everyone, I did not break it. However, I damaged it and it is my fault.”

“The geezer lost me—”

“Shut it!” Terry shouted the crowd down.

The projection closed his eyes. “I’ve never followed the Librarians, except for seeking treasure, but it was then that my greed led me to a history of battles that showed me my own unworthiness. A tale of a mortal that struck fear into literal gods.”

Finally, the projection had managed to catch everyone’s attention.

“My guilt is that I broke the seal and opened a path that ought to stay closed until we’re ready.” The translucent figure raised his head again and stared towards the front. “My shame is that I did not dare to step through myself. I was unable to fully commit to this path. My heart was too entwined with my sect and clan. I just could not leave.

“As cruel as the heavens are, there are no half-steps on this path. The damaged seal appears to weaken further from the presence of aged powers. Recruiting elders was no option unless we wanted to risk breaking the seal completely, which is why it had to be you, young heroes, to rise up to the task of securing the seal.

“I’ve lived my life for our sect, which is why our sect has to bear the burden of my mistake. We have to defend the gate and help the seal stabilize. We have to prepare challengers to step forward, because only when the next step is secured will my mistake be undone once and for all.

“I’ve instructed my direct disciples and descendants to recruit worthy challengers and prepare an accelerated training environment with lots of benefits. By now, everyone that still carried fear in their hearts should have escaped with the transportation talismans.”

The martialists were looking at each other with quiet bewilderment.

“My descendants, my juniors, you have done our sect proud by volunteering to come here.”

“Volunteer my arse!” shouted a martialist with indignation. “What inheritance? Inheriting your mistakes, you bastard! This is a death trap!”

“The path you have chosen speaks to your courage and I know you will bring glory to our sect.” The translucent figure made a slight bow.

“What glory can a dead sect earn, huh?!”

The translucent silhouette seemed to freeze for a second and flicker slightly as if a recording had been stopped and restarted. Then a light shone onto Terry, who could sense a slight mana reaction from the king spear.

“I’m glad that a commander has stepped up to the task. Fight well!” The projection disappeared.

Everyone was staring at Terry with disbelief.

“Are you sure that you’re not an elder in disguise?” Jason asked the Arcanian from the side.

Terry rolled his eyes and then mentally went over their preparations. While he was doing his own experiments, he had tasked Annabelle, Zhang, and Guillermo with distributing the items he could provide. The other martialists had been busy attempting cultivation breakthroughs and practicing with their new offensive and defensive artifacts.

Terry had thought he would feel better with certainty, but now that he had been proven right, he wasn’t so sure anymore. The prospects were simply too daunting.

While he was busy with his own thoughts and mana scouting, people were gathering around him. Even some of the martialists that had previously refused to cooperate were returning.

Among the returnees was the felan martialist Rafael, Terry’s former coliseum ally. He had not trusted Terry after their recent squabbles and had convinced himself that the Arcanian was somehow running a scam. After seeing the giant projection, however, Rafael had begun wondering again.

“You were speaking the truth…?” As a felan, Rafael did not pale like a human. There was no ashen face to reveal his thoughts, but his lips reverberated in the timbre of worry and concern. For once, the boisterous martialist was unable to keep his real thoughts from leaking into his voice.

“You were right…” Another of the returnees muttered.

Terry subconsciously reacted while focusing on his mana touch. “I was wrong…” His eyes focused to look at the martialists. “At least on— This isn’t going to be a normal veil tear.” He tried to match the sensory input from his mana touch against the words from the projection. “A sealed gate. A permanent gate, closed by some kind of magic barrier. The Veil might play a part in the seal and barrier, but…”

Terry pondered the implications.

Crap.

So much for my hope of using oscillating mana to heal the tear like in the Valkyrie’s dungeon. I cannot seal a permanent gate, can I? What’s the difference? I should read up on the Veil and— Not the time.

Focus.

Terry realized that everyone was looking at him. “Not important. It boils down to the same problem. Something is coming but…” He raised his eyes towards the many changes in mana he was sensing. “I’m not sure if it’s from below anymore. I think…”

He looked up at the magic moons and considered the weird space magic that was sealing the boundaries and preventing people from stepping beyond certain limits by stretching and contracting space.

What if this was another layer of protection?

Folded space. What if…?

Terry was sensing changes deep below, but he was also sensing changes at higher locations, including at what appeared to be the surface. He remembered the artificial forest in the dungeon that the arrogant dwarf Alrik had discovered, before Terry got whisked away by the dungeon into Tiv’s territory.

Artificial. What if…?

He looked up at the magic moons.

“I…” Terry ordered his thoughts that were rushed by the mana changes growing more pronounced by the second. “I think we might already be down. Deep down.” He glanced at some of the more reliable martialists among the group like Annabelle and Zhang, only to see them look at him in confusion.

Terry involuntarily pictured standing inside a sphere. The magic moons at the center. The ground he took to be the outside surface of a sphere actually representing the inside. He was not convinced he could explain his mental image quickly to the bewildered martialists.

Not important. Not the time. What’s important is—

“They are going to come from everywhere,” stressed Terry. “If the changes I’m sensing are any indication, most openings will be at the surface.”

“Isn’t that good?” Guillermo interjected. “More space for us to run wild.”

But also less opportunities to control the flow of enemies. No tunnel fighting techniques. No blocking areas with the Immovable Object spell to force them into a narrow path.

Terry tried to keep his own reservations from leaking out of his mouth. At this point, there was nothing he could do about it. Better to lean into it like the elven outcast from the Ironbark Fist Sect than to demotivate the flimsy martialists that represented his only potential allies.

“We’ll see.” Terry pointed towards the closest location where he sensed changes converging into mana distortions. “Likely first point of contact.”

***