Unlimited Isekai and Other Unfortunate Magic

In a split-second decision, Dave switched all of his soul points into Agility. The sudden shift sent a tingling sensation through his body, making him feel lighter and more nimble.

Healy, still perched on his shoulder, let out a bothered twinkling noise.

She jumped off, landing gracefully on the floor and staring directly past Dave with a mix of annoyance and confusion in her crystalline eyes.

"Sorry, girl," Dave whispered, "but I can’t be interrogated.”

Without wasting another moment, Dave leaped upwards, his Agility-enhanced muscles propelling him higher than he thought possible. His fingers grasped the rough surface of a wooden beam running across the ceiling of the storage room. Quickly, he redistributed his soul points, pushing everything into Strength and Dexterity.

With newfound power coursing through his arms and the precise control granted by his boosted Dexterity, Dave pulled himself up onto the beam. He lay flat against it, his body hidden in the shadows cast by the dim light filtering through the small window.

Just as he settled into position, the door creaked open. Dumpich's excited voice filled the small space.

"Dave? Hey, Dave! Where are you hiding, buddy?"

Jimirr's more measured tones followed. "Apprentice Dumpich, please. This is not a game of hide-and-seek."

Dave held his breath, watching as the two men entered the room. Their eyes scanned the shelves and corners, completely missing the figure huddled on the beam above.

Suddenly, Dumpich spotted Healy. "Hey, look! It's Dave’s Vitalix Kitlix! But where is he?"

Jimirr crouched down, addressing the Vitalix directly. "Kitlix, where is your bonded human?"

Healy, in a display that would have made Dave laugh if he weren't so tense, simply shrugged her crystalline shoulders. She then turned and trotted out of the room.

Dave remained motionless on the beam, his muscles tense as he watched the scene unfold below. Jimirr and Dumpich stood in stunned silence for a moment, staring at the doorway through which Healy had disappeared.

Jimirr was the first to break the silence, his voice tight with frustration. "This is... highly irregular. A bonded Kitlix should never willingly leave its healer's side. Not unless they're sleeping."

Dumpich nodded, his long ears drooping slightly. "Yeah, it's weird. I've never seen anything like it. Do you think Dave's okay?"

Jimirr pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room once more. "I'm not sure what to think, apprentice. This whole situation reeks of deception."

"Maybe he's just shy?" Dumpich offered weakly.

Jimirr shot him a withering look. "Shy? Or perhaps he has something to hide. No honest man runs from a simple questioning."

Dave winced at Jimirr's words, guilt gnawing at him. He didn't like deceiving these people, especially Dumpich, who had shown him nothing but kindness. But the alternative - revealing his true nature and abilities and being scanned by Jimirr once again and getting reported by him as a Necromancer seemed far riskier.

With a weary headshake, Jimirr turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Dave remained perfectly still on the beam, hardly daring to breathe as he watched Dumpich below. The apprentice healer sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he gazed around the cluttered storage room. His violet eyes swept over the shelves of potion ingredients and bandages, lingering on each shadowy corner as if hoping Dave might materialize out of thin air.

"You know," Dumpich said softly to the seemingly empty room, "I get it. I really do. This place can be... overwhelming. All the rules, the procedures, the expectations." He huffed softly, shaking his horns. "Heck, sometimes I feel like running away myself. Being an adventurer was definitely more… wild. But then two of my friends died and I almost died too and that sort of put a damper on the whole dungeon divin' business."

Dave remained silent.

"If you're out here somewhere, being invisible or something... I understand," Dumpich continued, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Sometimes the world doesn't make sense, and sometimes we've got to do things that don't quite fit into the neat little boxes others want to put us in. I don't know what your story is, but I can tell it's not a simple one, that you’re on a genuine adventure.”

The apprentice paused.

"I'll take the blame for this one, mate. Tell Sylphaera it was all my idea, that I let you go because I’m an idiot. Wouldn't be the first time," he added.

Dave felt a lump forming in his throat.

"But listen," Dumpich said, his voice growing earnest, "do come back after you're done with your grand Quest, yeah? I'd love it if you worked for Healers Hall. We could use someone with your talents... and your sense of mystery," he added with a wink to the empty room. “Find me at the Nightingale tavern a few hours before nightfall, if you ever want a friend to lay your troubles onto! Cheers!”

Dumpich turned around and closed the door behind him leaving Dave alone on the beam.

After about ten more minutes of sitting uncomfortably on the beam, Dave's muscles began to cramp. He waited until he was certain the coast was clear, then carefully lowered himself back to the floor. His joints popped as he stretched, working out the kinks from his prolonged stillness.

Slowly, keeping an ear out for anyone else, Dave made his way back to the Kitlix Chapel. The room was mercifully empty when he entered. Healy probably among the other Kitlix in the bowl.

Dave pushed everything into Vitality.

Healy emerged from the rainbow of her siblings, looking up at him.

"Hey there, girl," Dave whispered, kneeling down to scratch his familiar. "Thanks for not giving me away."

Healy trilled in response, nuzzling against his hand before hopping onto his shoulder. Dave felt a pang of sadness, knowing their time together was coming to an end.

"I wish I could keep you," he murmured, gently stroking her smooth, gem-like surface. "But I've got to figure some things out first."

With a reluctant sigh, Dave picked up his bag from the alcove, its contents clinking and shifting as he hoisted it over his shoulder. He took one last look around the Kitlix Chapel and then pushed everything into Agility. As Healy leapt off his shoulder back into the bowl, Dave rushed down the white hall, not looking back.

As he made his way through the Healers Hall, Dave was struck by how familiar it all felt. The white gothic architecture, the soft green glow emanating from various rooms, the faint scent of herbs and healing magic in the air - it was all exactly as he remembered it. He navigated the corridors with ease, as if he'd walked these exact halls following in the footsteps of Master Sylphaera.

Once outside, Dave paused to orient himself. He pulled out the map the Secretary had given him, studying it carefully. The Dvaliss smithy was marked clearly, a small icon of an anvil indicating its location in town.

The violin in his soul played a soft melody, helping him determine exactly where he was.

"Let's see if we can't turn these bugs into some much-needed coin," he muttered to himself.

The journey to the smithy took longer than Dave had anticipated. His newly healed body, while functional, still ached and throbbed with every step, forcing him to keep all of his collected soul bits in Vitality. By the time he reached the smithy, he was breathing heavily and feeling quite sweaty from exertion.

The Dvaliss smithy looked far fancier than Remicra's semi-abandoned lighthouse. The building was a grand structure of polished stone and gleaming metal, its multiple chimneys belching plumes of multi-colored smoke into the continent-filled sky.

A collared, white-feathered, curvy crowgirl in a lavish silver robe greeted him at the entrance. Her smile was wide and welcoming, but Sherlock's violin played a melancholic tune in Dave's mind, drawing his attention to the desperation lurking in her eyes.

"Welcome to Dvaliss Smithy, esteemed customer!" she chirped. "How may we assist you today?"

"I, uh... I'm here to sell some metal bugs and a Felislice corpse," Dave replied.

"Oh my! You must be quite the accomplished adventurer to have bested a Felislice! Please, follow me. Master Dvaliss will be most interested in your wares."

The greeter led Dave through a series of workshops, each more impressive than the last. The air was thick with the scent of molten metal and the sound of hammering. Apprentices and journeymen of various races worked at forges and anvils, crafting everything from delicate jewelry to massive pieces of armor. Many of them had similar collars on with red triangular runes.

"Master Dvaliss!" the birdgirl called out as they entered a large central chamber. "We have a new customer!"

A booming voice responded from behind a massive forge. "Excellent, Aria! Show them in!"

A tall, bulky figure stood at the forge, their back to Dave. As he turned, Dave noted that the man was wearing a white shirt and a blue lavish apron with a fancy letter G embossed on it. The man's skin was gray, as if formed from dark granite, and instead of hair jagged, azure-colored, semi-transparent, glittering arrays of quartz crystals dotted his bald head. A lush white beard framed the base of his face, the hair looking like thick crystalline strands.

"Welcome to Dvaliss Smithy," the man said. "I am Garret Dvaliss. What brings you to my forge?"

Dave stepped forward, trying not to stare at the mesmerizing play of light across the smith's crystalline hair. "I've got some metal bugs," he said, hefting his bag. "I... got a Quest for it from the Adventurers Guild."

"Ah, yes. Let's have a look, shall we?" Garret nodded. "Just dump them onto this metal tray here."

Dave carefully emptied the contents of his bag onto a nearby workbench. The metal bugs clinked and clattered as they spilled out, their iridescent shells gleaming in the forge's light.

Garret leaned in close, examining the bugs with a critical eye. "Hmm, not bad," he said. "A bit battered, but the metal is of good quality. And is that... a Felislice corpse I see?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah, ran into one of those too. Nasty piece of work."

The man nodded, glancing at Dave's token. "Indeed they are. Well, Iron adventurer, I'd say this lot is worth... one silver and two coppers. Your token, please?"

Dave handed over his identification token, watching as Garret shoved it into a stone alcove with a sleeping Kitlix inside it. There was a brief flicker of light as the Kitlix woke up and spun around the token, and when Garret handed the token back, Dave saw that his balance had changed: [-16S, 8Co].

"There you are," Garret said. “Now… there’s just the matter of the Felislice.”

“Are you interested in buying it?” Dave asked, hoping that the damned flying razor-covered lynx was worth at least seventeen silver to put him out of debt.

“I can give you ten silver for it as it is a high level beastie,” Garret nodded. “However…”

Dave shifted uncomfortably as Garret's gray-blue eyes scrutinized him.

"Stratos, help me scan this man's body," he said. A dark red and violet Kitlix emerged from the pocket in the smith's apron and glittered onto Garret's shoulder staring at Dave.

"Tell me, adventurer," Garret said slowly drawing out his words as his crystalline fingers tapped thoughtfully on the workbench, "did the Felislice manage to cut you badly during your encounter?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah, it got me pretty good. Why do you ask?"

"I feared as much. I'm sensing living steel in your blood," the smith commented. "Enough of it to grow at least two new Felislice beasties in a month's time."

"Living steel?" Dave repeated, his mouth suddenly dry.

The smith's voice became colder and sharper. "Your flesh and blood is filled with microscopic steel flakes. These aren't ordinary metal shards, mind you. They're alive in a sense, and they'll grow in size over time, feeding on your body."

Dave simply stared at the blacksmith.

"These flakes will slowly concentrate themselves around your heart core, leeching magic from it, growing and multiplying. Eventually, they'll form into... well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but they'll grow into a new Felislice pair."

"What?!" Dave sputtered, his mind reeling.

Garret nodded. "I'm afraid so. If left untreated, you'll become paralyzed until a newborn Felislice bursts out of your stomach. It's... not a pleasant way to go, I assure you. After the first Felislice departs, the second one will attempt to burrow itself into your spinal chord to take control of your limbs, turning you into a Steel Sentinel. The nasty bugger will keep your brain alive and conscious, in horrible pain as the Felislice guides your body to march back to the wilds, controlling your limbs to attack and infect other adventurers."

Dave gripped the edge of the workbench for support, his knuckles turning white. "I talked to lots of Healers... yesterday… Wouldn't they have noticed something like that?"

He suddenly recalled that the Healers did warn him that there was metal in his body.

Garret shook his head. "Healers deal with flesh and blood and not all Felislice are capable of seeding a person with their essence. This is magic metal we're talking about. Living metal that's very good at concealing itself, reflecting green magical scans. The common problem is that Vitalix Kitlix can’t always spot the specific flakes while they’re this small. When they get big enough to start to mess with your health, they’ll become visible and the Healers will require a Metal mage to extract them from your body. I can sense the microscopic magic flakes inside you because my Ferrix Kitlix amplifies my Metallomancy, see?"

Garret tapped Stratos on her head, making the Kitlix produce a twinkling noise.

"Urm, so what do you suggest?” Dave gulped.

"I can get the flakes out," Garret said. “But it won't be quick, or cheap."

“How much?” Dave asked, already fearing the answer.

"It's a delicate process, requiring great skill and patience to maneuver the living metal out of your body without killing you,” the blacksmith explained, waving a hand at the corpse of the Felislice. “Thankfully, we’ve got the body of this beastie here to reference the exact flake type. The procedure will need to be done slowly and carefully while you’re asleep over the duration of several weeks until all of the flakes are out. The price is seven hundred silver. It's a hefty sum, I know, but considering the alternative..."

Garret made a hand motion of a clawed thing bursting out of his own chest.