Divine Apostasy Book 6 - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ruwen’s heart thudded in his chest. Even though he hadn’t sensed the communication with his Core, he didn’t let it bother him. The fact remained, he’d had an effect on it, and that meant progress.

Instead of using mental hands to slow the spinning Core, Ruwen stilled his body using the technique Cloudless Sky, and as he became unnaturally motionless, he channeled that feeling to his Core.

Again, Ruwen felt nothing, but when he looked at his Core, it had stopped rotating.

Smiling, Ruwen repeated the process of spinning his Core at one percent and then stopping it another ten times. It behaved the same every time, so he repeated the process at five percent and again found identical results.

Ruwen wanted to immediately try full power, but caution born from his experience and probably his increased Wisdom stopped him. Instead, he increased his power in five percent increments, and twenty minutes later, reached full power.

Through it all, Ruwen tried to detect the force being applied to his Core, but he sensed nothing.

Now Ruwen felt comfortable enough to try the Ember Sphere again. He created a Scarecrow clone and pushed it a thousand feet away. Standing in the first Viper Step, he prepared to strike at one percent power.

But instead of throwing a punch, Ruwen stared at the clone until Shiny’s energy destroyed it. As the clone dissolved, he sat down in the shed and examined why he’d hesitated.

Ruwen knew striking at one percent power and channeling that same power to an Ember Sphere wouldn’t kill him, as he’d probably just survived a hundred percent spell earlier. But even if one percent worked for Ember Sphere, it would likely be too much gravity. At least, he didn’t want to start there. He just couldn’t shake the picture of the Elders as bloody puddles.

For Step fighting, the difference between one percent and full power was vast. Or it used to be. Now that he’d Fortified his body to Diamond, he’d needed to use lower power values when sparring with Sift in Malth’s underwater safe house.

Sift remained in the Metal levels, so Ruwen’s full power would have probably killed Sift. Even Ruwen’s opponents in the Step Championship, who had mostly been low Gem, had required scaled back attacks.

One percent power no longer gave Ruwen the control he required. He needed to learn how to manage lower values.

Ruwen stood, channeling Sow Seed to keep him pressed to the floor. He spread his legs just wider than his shoulders and squatted. Many painful hours had been spent with Sift like this, as Ruwen learned the Wheel, a constant punch and block sequence used to train newbies.

Using one percent power, Ruwen punched the space in front of him, blocked an imaginary strike with his extended arm, and pulled it back to his side as he struck with his other arm, repeating the process.

The process felt glacial to Ruwen’s Diamond senses. In fact, he didn’t think he could go any slower. How could he manage to use smaller amounts of his will if he couldn’t decrease his physical power any further?

What Ruwen really needed was a skill that slowed his mind as much as Last Breath sped it up. That thought made him pause, and he dropped his arms to his side. Could he somehow reverse Last Breath?

Ruwen triggered the skill but didn’t summon the mental construct that contained Overlord and the Citadel. His incredible Diamond senses were sped up another two hundred fifty six percent, making his thoughts so quick, that the world around almost froze in place.

Ruwen focused on the effect Last Breath had on his mind, and then dismissed the skill. He did this another hundred times before he started to understand the changes in his brain.

Seven flows of constant information appeared like streams emptying into Ruwen’s mind. Five of them were his senses, and the other two he felt, but couldn’t identify. All the flows reacted the same, however, when he triggered Last Breath. They turned from streams into raging rivers.

All the additional information caused Ruwen’s brain to process faster, which caused everything to feel like it slowed down. This had saved him multiple times, as it gave him time to think of solutions during dangerous situations.

Now Ruwen wanted to do the opposite. He wanted to slow his mind down to the point that his painfully slow movements felt fast, or at least normal.

After cycling Last Breath on and off so many times, Ruwen could now sense the distinct streams for his senses, along with the two he didn’t understand. Last Breath increased the flow of sensory data to his mind, so he hoped restricting the flow might have the opposite effect.

Ruwen had no idea how to limit the information he received. Last Breath was its own skill, not something he could just flip upside down to make work differently. He imagined trenches branching off the sensory streams, but it had no effect. He tried a few other ideas, but none of them had any impact.

Ruwen knew things other than Last Breath could affect his mind. His Cleverness attribute for instance. That made him think of Overlord, and the damage his Cleverness attribute might have caused the Citadel. The Citadel, Fortress, and its creators, also gave him an idea.

Ruwen triggered Last Breath again, but this time he went to his island. Well, it didn’t really qualify as an island anymore since he materialized at the top of the Citadel. His shields appeared immediately, spinning around him.

Easing toward the railing, Ruwen peeked over the edge. If anything, the Citadel appeared higher, and the Fortress below looked thicker. Narrators circled the ramparts, each followed by a small army of sentences and paragraphs.

“You didn’t break anything,” Overlord said.

Ruwen turned his head. Overlord mirrored Ruwen’s posture: body as far from the railing as possible and head barely over the edge.

Ruwen stood up straight and cleared his throat. “That fall looks even farther this time.”

Overlord nodded and stepped back from the railing. He pointed to the sea of letters. “We’ll keep building until we run out of words.”

“Right, at some point this Citadel will poke through the top of my head, and I’ll be like some sort of literary unicorn.” Ruwen said and laughed.

The Overseer’s Cowl of Revelation hid overlord’s face, but he tilted his head in thought.

Ruwen looked around. “This thing is a mental construct, right?”

“Probably,” Overlord said.

Ruwen waved his hands. “Okay, I have to stay focused. I came here to ask you something.”

“Not to check on the damage?”

“That, too. Stop distracting me. You’re as bad as Sift.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Fine, but you’re a close second. I feel like my Wisdom gains really helped me—” Ruwen stopped as he realized he’d gone off topic again.

Overlord pointed at Ruwen. “Don’t blame me for that one. You’re like an appah sledding down a rockslide.”

“A what? How is that even a saying? Are you seriously comparing—” Ruwen stopped again, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I came here for help.”

“You said it was quicker if you did things on your own.”

“I know. And that’s true for most of what I’m trying. But there is something,” Ruwen waved a hand at the Fortress below, “related to this that I don’t think I can do on my own. At least not yet. And it’s keeping me from progressing on other things.”

“What do you need?”

“Last time I was here, I watched your Narrators create things from the letters they’d been given, repurposing them from the sea. I’m hoping I could borrow some of them occasionally to consume something else.”

“Interesting,” Overlord said. “Let’s talk to Sivart.”

“Who?” Ruwen asked.

Overlord pointed behind Ruwen. “Sivart. He’s taken charge of the narrators.”

Ruwen turned to find one of the word-cyclones hovering silently behind him. Sivart appeared taller and leaner than the narrators below, the denseness of the violently swirling letters giving the Narrator an almost human shape.

“Hi, Sivart,” Ruwen said as he waved. “I, uh, need some help.”

“Helping the needy earns their loyalty,” Sivart said.

“Right,” Ruwen said. “Well, I had this idea. I remembered how you guys, and gals, or however you view—” Ruwen stopped and tried again. “I noticed that you use the letters to create things, and I wondered if other things could be consumed the same way.”

“Proper resources are critical for success, plan a head,” Sivart said.

“Okay, I can get on board with that,” Ruwen said.

“Maybe try specifics,” Overlord said.

Ruwen sighed. It hadn’t sounded stupid until now, when he needed to say it out loud. “Once in a while I want to reduce the amount of sensory information I receive. I thought maybe Narrators could consume what I don’t want and use it to make things.”

“Examine every opportunity for advantage,” Sivart said.

Ruwen waited for more, but Sivart didn’t speak. In the quiet, the swirling letters brushing past each other inside Sivart’s body sounded like faint whispers.

Ruwen turned to Overlord.

Overlord shrugged. “I think that was a yes.”

Ruwen faced Sivart again. “Will you help?”

“Victory relies on clear communication,” Sivart responded.

“Uru, help me,” Ruwen said.

“Helping the needy earns their loyalty,” Sivart said.

“Yeah, I caught that the first time,” Ruwen said.

“Narrators only respond with text from their source,” Overlord said.

“What book is he?” Ruwen asked. “I don’t remember reading this one.”

“Sivart is one of the books Rami placed in your memories to help me form my own identity.”

Ruwen shook his head. “I need to talk to that wyrm about boundaries. So which one is this?”

“Sivart evolved from a manifesto,” Overlord said. “Interesting read actually. Rami told me it was an acquaintance of hers in the Black Pyramid. Someone with big ideas and a strong personality. That’s probably why she gave it to me, actually. I’d say it’s more of a random collection of thoughts than a manifesto though. It took me—”

Ruwen sighed. “Overlord, please. Who wrote the book?”

“Oh, right,” Overlord said. “It’s by a Mist Wraith Rami called Talker.”