Blessed Time: The Complete Series: (A LitRPG Adventure Box Set), page 89
Micah snorted, setting the armor down in a depression he’d carved in the rock earlier that morning. The armor wasn’t quite as mobile as he would like, but at the end of the day, he wasn’t a smith. Micah was an enchanter, and the extra layers of scales gave him even more room to inscribe enchantments and upgrade the existing runes that the Maarikava had actually developed.
He walked over to the major groove he’d excavated from the mountainside, connecting the Maarikava itself to the ritual circle and intricate runes surrounding it. Carefully, Micah activated the sonic enchantment on his spear and stuck it into the stone, drawing another channel from the original and connecting it with the bowl where he’d placed the armor.
With a nod at his handiwork, he returned to the Maarikava, spear still humming in his hand. He cocked his head apologetically before lifting the spear.
“Sorry about this, by the way,” Micah muttered as he touched the spearhead against the sea serpent’s neck, where he had carefully removed her protective armor. “If I had any other reagents to use, I would have tried to find a way to do all of this with only temporal energy. Unfortunately, I’m stuck on an island in my pajamas, so my options are limited.”
He pressed forward, the humming triangle of metal parting the monster’s lavender flesh and drawing a squirt of dark purple blood. The steaming liquid landed in the pre-carved channel, and almost immediately it was absorbed by a rune inscribed into the stone.
Micah jogged away from the Maarikava, clearing the ritual circle as the runes began to do their work. One sigil after another in the blood groove began to glow green. Then the magic reached up, turning the irregular arterial spurts of blood into a steady and regular stream that filled the channel. The blood began to glow as it spilled, a small portion of it filling the depression with the armor and bathing the scales.
The rest flowed toward Micah, spreading out through the intricate network of canals and inscriptions to fill the entirety of the ritual circle. Barely five minutes after he started, every rune he had spent the last day carving was burning green as the purple blood writhed.
He glanced upward, checking to ensure that the sun was directly above him. With a nod, he summoned the Ageless Folio to begin the first arcane phrases of the ritual.
Almost immediately, the blood began to flow, turning the glowing network of carvings into a crude circulatory system as the liquid pushed from right to left. Flickers of energy discharged up into the air, forming mirages of red and blue above Micah as he continued into the next stanza.
Barely two minutes into the ritual, his throat hurt like hell. Dehydration, only slaked by coconut milk, had weakened his throat, but the strange syllables called for by the casting itself tore at his vocal cords.
Micah ignored the iron taste of blood as he continued. Despite the armor’s crude design, the actual enchantments were the most complex he’d ever attempted. Even when he’d crafted the Astria in his past life, he hadn’t layered anywhere near this many powerful enchantments together.
Frankly, with ordinary materials and a common power source, what he was attempting would be utterly impossible. Even if Micah had doubled his enchanting and arcana skills, the current project would have been doomed to immediate failure.
Of course, that was under the best of circumstances. Micah had slept maybe ten hours in the last four days. The rest of his time had been spent feverishly researching and setting up the ritual for the enchantment. Right now, his eyes were bloodshot and his body was weaker than it had been since he first woke up after using blessed return.
A wave of his hand sent a pulsing tide of silver temporal energy fountaining up into the air from the Maarikava. It sprinkled down like rain over the rest of the ritual, tempering the fiery glow of the burning life force and bringing the enchantment back under Micah’s control.
He wiped a trickle of blood from the side of his mouth, smiling grimly before he moved on to the next phase of the ritual. Temporal energy was the secret. The Maarikava was centuries old, a beast of legend with awe-filled rumors whispered about it in every tavern around the Emerald Ocean.
Her blood held enough power for Micah to create a strong enchantment, and combined with the weight of her mythos, the time and impact that the Maarikava had on Karell’s timeline… Given the proper materials—reagents, inscription knives and other sundry ingredients—the incapacitated daskin had enough juice behind it for him to craft an artifact worthy of legends.
At the end of the day, as skilled an enchanter as he was, Micah was beyond the limits of his ability, but it hardly mattered. The Maarikava’s scales were almost the perfect medium for fire and water enchantments; the two magics were literally woven into her very being. Between the power of her temporal energy, her life force, and the quality of the scale and bone, he’d be damned if the armor didn’t serve its purpose.
The Maarikava’s remaining eye opened, cloudy and sightless as she struggled against the effects of coma. She tried to lift her body from the mountainside only for green, burning chains to flash into view, rooting her to the stone.
Another swipe of Micah’s hand summoned a fountain of silver energy that aided in mining more temporal energy from the creature. She mewled in distress, shrinking visibly as his magic drained years from her body to power the ritual.
More words, arcane and alien, tore themselves from Micah’s throat as he shored up the elements of the ritual that kept the Maarikava restrained. The green chains flared brighter, searing brands into the creature’s flesh and remaining scales.
He turned to the side, spitting out a mouthful of blood from his cracked and bleeding throat before twisting his hand into an intricate pattern of rapidly changing seals. The ritual circle burst into flame, flickering tendrils of green light jumping up into the sky and illuminating the mountainside.
For a moment they almost drowned out the sun, their emerald flashes dancing higher and higher to the pulse of some invisible beat. Micah threw up his arms at the crescendo of the ritual.
A harpoon of silver energy launched itself from the downed daskin, slamming into his chest with the force of a sledgehammer. Micah grunted, digging his toes into the hillside deep enough that they crushed the volcanic rock to dust.
Temporal energy poured into him, swelling Micah with power so quickly that he was afraid he might burst. He reached out with both hands, siphoned the uncontrolled temporal magic, and channeled it out through his palms in a strobe of silver light that overwhelmed the captivating dance of the green flames.
The temporal energy blanketed the suit of armor, fusing the verdant fire into the layered scales. One after another, the enchantments clicked, locking into place and creating a closed magical circle as the cataclysmic forces he was channeling overwhelmed any of the minor errors made in the enchantment and the ritual itself.
Just as he fell to one knee, unable to even reach up to wipe the blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth, another tidal wave of silver poured over him. Energy crackled and arced between his spread fingers. Micah’s vision blurred, every molecule of his being focused on completing the spell.
Then, with a suddenness that sent him reeling, it was over. The fires guttered out and the flow of temporal energy evaporated. He fell to his hands and knees, mouth open and panting as blood flowed freely, spattering the volcanic stone below him.
Without saying anything, Micah cast augmented mending. The pain evaporated as his magic knitted his injured throat back together, but it did nothing for the waves of exhaustion that pressed down on him.
He staggered to his feet, ignoring the Maarikava’s corpse as he shambled over to the armor. It was warm to the touch, glittering sparks of blue and red energy arcing over its surface. He picked it up and admired it in the early afternoon sun.
“It’s perfect,” he whispered to himself, eyes tracing over the completed runes. They’d been etched so tightly into the scales that it took a master to find where one ended and the next began.
Eagerly, despite his limbs feeling dead and leaden, Micah slipped it on over his pajamas. Almost immediately he felt energy tingling through his system as the armor’s passive enchantments hummed to life.
It carried resilience, heavy resistance to both Water and Fire magic, and an oil-like sheen that covered his body, making it more difficult to grip or grapple him. While those abilities were powerful, they didn’t have much on the armor’s active powers. Between the binding enchantments in the Maarikava’s fangs, the ability to generate a scalding fog that wouldn’t obscure his own vision, and—most importantly at the moment—the ability to breathe water, the armor was formidable.
There was no question that it was more powerful than anything he’d had in his previous life. Maybe not enough to turn the tide against the Third Prince on its own, but certainly an important step toward bridging the gap between him and the otherworldly horror.
Finally, he pulled up his status, a smile blossoming on his face. Apparently the Maarikava had been strong enough that killing it warranted two levels on its own. Ultimately, he preferred to gain levels in the slower and safer controlled environments of the dungeons, but he wasn’t going to complain about the burst of experience too loudly. After all, he had a lot of ground to make up.
Age: 21 [ERROR] / 35
Class/Level: Divine Candidate 49
XP: 28,902/950,000
HP: 7649/7844
Class Specialty
Chronomancer, Enchanter
Attributes
Body: 51
Agility: 51
Mind: 103
Spirit: 102
Attunement
Moon: 100
Sun: 66
Night: 86
Mana
Moon: 7820/7991
Sun: 7923/7923
Night: 7963/7963
Affinities
Time: 10
Tier V - Foresight 17, Time Echoes 3, Temporal Transfer 2, Haste 16
Tier VI - Temporal Vortex 14, Temporal Stutter 7, Stasis 6
Tier VII - Time Leash 6, Weave of Fate 4,
Tier VIII - Deja Vu 4
Wood:8
Tier I - Refresh 14, Mending 13, Plant Weave 21
Tier II - Augmented Mending 20, Root Spears 14
Tier III - Heal 13, Paralytic Sting 6, Explosive Thicket 11
Tier IV - Regeneration 14, Healing Wave 6, Poison Fog 14
Tier V - Panacea 6, Coma 2, False Life 3
Tier VI - Binding Vines 9, Infest 4
Air: 7
Tier I - Gale 11, Air Knife 24, Air Supply 6
Tier II - Wind Shield 11, Sonic Bolt 18
Tier III - Updraft 5, Pressure Spear 15, Sonic Orb 14
Tier IV - Flight 12, Wind Blade 10
Tier V - Vacuum 5
Blessings
Mythic Blessing of Mursa - Blessed Return
Ageless Folio
Skills
Anatomy: 10
Arcana: 15
Enchanting: 36
Fishing: 2
Herbalism: 5
Librarian: 5
Ritual Magic: 34
Spear: 39
-Wind Spear: 13
-TITS: 21
Spellcasting: 49
Just as he closed the sheet of information, the ground rumbled beneath him, sending a wave of cinder and soot billowing out of the volcano caldera. Trickles of lava began to slither down its slope, heralding the destruction that was to come.
It seemed that Micah was out of time for planning and admiring his equipment.
TWELVE
STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND
Micah was in the water in a flash, only delaying the handful of seconds necessary to slip on the armor. For a second he held his spear, frowning at it, then glanced at the endless expanse of choppy waves. He wouldn’t have any way to hold the weapon, and the idea of swimming across the entirety of the Emerald Ocean with just one arm made him shudder.
He abandoned the spear and sprinted to the water. It had served him well for years, but he was out of time. It wasn’t Micah’s first choice, but its loss was also an opportunity. Years had passed since he crafted the weapon, and his skill in enchanting had risen since its creation. Once he got a moment, Micah would need to enchant a new spear. One so heavily laden with runes that it would serve as a fitting companion for his armor.
Micah dove into the ocean. Compared to the sweltering, heavy air of the island, the lukewarm water was a welcome relief. Almost as soon as he cleared the shore, the top of the volcano practically exploded, sending a rolling wave of soot and ash down its slopes.
Silently, he cast refresh, letting the tingle of magic flow through his muscles. It wasn’t enough on its own to take the edge off his lack of sleep, but right now it was Micah’s only option.
He shook his head, trying to clear the lethargy from his system as he pumped his arms through the choppy surf. A quick glance overhead helped Micah locate the afternoon sun and orient himself toward it. He might not have anywhere near the navigation training of a ship’s captain—there was no way he was going to end up in Jakkint, the port the Amelia had set sail for—but there wasn’t much across the Emerald Ocean but Dodessa.
Another island, little more than a triangle of black somewhere to Micah’s left, erupted, sending another wave of choking cinders out over the ocean and obscuring the sun. Mentally, Micah shrugged to himself. Hopefully he was more or less on the right course, because it would be a while before he was in any position to check the sky once more.
Behind him, lava sprayed up into the air, spewing toxic gasses from the depths of the planet that soon would be mixing with the superheated and choking smog that was rapidly covering the water. Plumes of molten rock rained down around Micah. They hissed upon hitting the water, flash-cooling and kicking up clouds of steam as the stone hardened and shattered.
Micah dove beneath the surface as the ocean around him roiled, the waves turning choppy from the volcanic assault. Cautiously, his tired mind hoping that the untested enchantments on his new armor were working properly, he inhaled the saltwater.
It tasted like the sea breeze back in Basil’s Cove, just filtered through a sock. Micah practically choked as he pulled the water into his lungs, letting the magic filter what he needed from the liquid before he exhaled it.
The liquid was so much heavier than air, inhaling it felt like trying to draw a breath after he had hiked for hours to the top of one of Karell’s tallest mountains. Still, it was so much better than staying on the surface.
There was a reason that the eruption of the Serpent’s Teeth shut down all oceanic trade for months. The worst of the eruptions only lasted for a week or so, but a ship’s captain could simply steer clear of the island chain if that was the main problem. The real issues were the massive banks of cinder and toxic gas that would choke an entire region, constantly fed by even more material leaking from the volcanoes as they slowly smoldered their way back into dormancy.
If Micah remained on the surface, he might be able to survive for a couple of hours, but even if the burning smog didn’t kill him with heat damage, it would almost certainly fatally poison him. In short, unless someone could travel above or below the low-hanging and inky black clouds, getting trapped near the islands was almost certain death.
He opened his eyes, wincing as the saltwater attacked and stung them. For all of his effort in enchanting the Maarikava scale armor, Micah hadn’t remembered to add a fairly minor ability designed to make the use of the enchantments less uncomfortable.
Mentally, as he cast air supply, Micah made a note to craft another enchanted item that would create a bubble of air and protect his eyes. A moment later, a translucent sphere appeared around his face, prompting a sigh of relief.
Ultimately, the failure to balance his enchantments had been a rookie mistake, likely induced by sleep deprivation. It could have been worse. When Micah had first been learning to enchant, he’d read horror stories about equipment not taking into account side effects: flight amulets that let their user suffocate if they flew too high, swords that exploded into lightning upon a successful hit and electrocuted their wielder, and bracelets that increased their user’s strength to the point that everyday activities dislocated limbs.
A stream of lava landed in the water next to Micah, raising the temperature to a boil almost immediately. He kicked his legs twice, diving deeper into the ocean’s relatively cool depths. Almost immediately he felt the water pressure increasing on his body.
Micah pursed his lips as he began to swim in a generally westward direction. Pressure was another force he hadn’t properly considered. Given his Body attribute, it wouldn’t be much of a problem so long as he kept air supply active, but as resilient as Micah was, the tender membranes of his eyes and inner ears wouldn’t hold up long against the ocean’s crushing depths.
Still, he would simply need to make do with what he had. Micah kept swimming, powerful strokes of his arms accelerating him through the water. Already, the light filtering down from the ocean surface was beginning to disappear. It would only be a matter of time before the clouds of soot and cinder left Micah in complete darkness.
The water around him churned, rocks thrown up by the eruption slamming down next to gouts of lava that evaporated large swaths of the ocean. Micah knew that the buffeting currents were knocking him off course, but there really wasn’t anything he could do about it.
So he swam for hours in darkness. Occasionally he would take some minor damage from the ocean’s heat as molten rock flashed a small amount of light into the inky depths, but there was little to break up the exhausting monotony.
He had to recast both refresh and air supply almost a dozen times, but eventually it was too much. Micah cast temporal stutter on himself and let himself float to the surface of the ocean. He rolled over until he was facedown in the water to protect himself from the noxious fumes that choked the air, then closed his eyes to sleep.
