February ~ 13!

CHAPTER 13

“Ha!” Grant stood victorious over a slain rabbit as he waved his sword at the hawk that had killed the oversized rabbit and been too weak to carry it off. “Get! Shoo! This is mine now!”

The bird flew away, leaving Grant his rabbit. The human took the creature to his wagon and chopped it up with his rusty skinning knife, then held his sword over a pile of tinder. He angled the blade so that it was reflecting the sun as much as possible, then magnified the light with Stolen Sunlight. The tinder burst into flame, and he let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks for teaching me that trick, Sarge.>

<Survival is paramount!> Grant liked this gregarious new personality his sword had acquired after getting to February. <Can’t kill things if you’re too weak from hunger or frozen stiff!>

“Mm. Still some downsides to it.” Grant mumbled as he revised his thoughts on Sarge once more. The smell of the roasting meat wafted on the breeze. Grant sat cross-legged, observing the sizzling meat atop the fire. He had to admit, liberating then cooking his own food was deeply satisfying. The sound of pounding footfalls caught his attention, and he looked down the road to see a man pulling a hunting cart at high speed.

Grant gripped the hilt of his sword as the stranger came alongside him, stopped, walked over and plopped down beside him. Grant looked at the finely dressed newcomer with a prominent nose. “Who might you be, then?”

“Meat. I’m craving meat. That rabbit will do.” The man clapped his hands together. “I’m Waylon Wednesday, and am carting monster meat to Valentine. I claim need.”

“You’re trying to rob me?” Grant hand stayed in the perfect position to perform Iaijutsu. “So, you choose death.”

<I can’t believe you’re still so aggressive about food.> Sarge chuckled lightly at him.

Waylon hand dropped to his own sword, and he rapped his fingers against the hilt of his weapon, irritated at being kept waiting. “Every employee of Lady February is granted one free meal from anyone, no matter where they might be. My supplies are for competitors, I didn’t have room for my own supplies. Move aside if you don’t want to serve me yourself.”

“I am starving, injured, and also have no other supplies.” Grant explained neutrally, not changing his stance at all. Waylon snarled and drew a tomahawk from his belt as Grant finished, “You taking my only food is the same as killing me yourself.”

That brought the man up short, he looked at Grant, the fact that he didn’t yet have a weapon drawn, and the food. “You’ll be fine, a few days without food won’t hurt you..”

The tomahawk swung lazily at Grant to get him to move aside, but he stopped moving as a slightly glowing sword tip pressed against his Adam's apple. “S-so fast!”

“Drop it.” Grant was too tired to do anything other than give a simple command. Waylon dropped the tomahawk, and slowly lifted his hands above his head.

Do you, Grant Monday, wish to absorb the power of Waylon Wednesday’s weapon, Last Hit? Accepting Last Hit will override any previous Wielded Weapon power absorbed in the current monthly series. If not overridden by another weapon of the same month, this ability will vanish at the end of the year, unless the quest ‘Heal The World’ has been successfully completed.

Accept / Decline

Grant mentally declined the offer even as Waylon let out a low whistle. “I’ve never seen anyone move their blade like that, well, ‘sides Lady-”

“Gah!” Grant gasped as golden power washed through him. His foot felt like it was on fire… for a moment. Then he felt better than he had in days.

“Did… did you just increase your cultivation achievement level? Right in front of me?” Waylon gasped in relief as the blade was moved from his throat. “Gross.”

“You’re a Wielder?” Grant looked down at the fallen tomahawk. “What in the world are you doing out here all alone? Whaddaya mean, ‘gross’?”

“Um. Your flesh just regrew in front of me. Kinda off-putting.” Waylon looked at the wagon, the sword, the rabbit… and slowly put his hands down. “Also, I’m starving? I was serious, I’m delivering goods.”

“Okay…” Grant sheathed his sword and held out a hand. “Sorry I thought you were a bandit. I got healed up, so I’m less… touchy. Split the rabbit?”

Waylon didn’t thank Grant for the meat as both ate in silence. Grant, although happy to share, almost lost it when Waylon said, “Not bad. It could do with a little seasoning.”

“I have spider poison if you wanna add it on, or maybe you can smear some ash on it from the fire?” Grant locked eyes with the man, and they both started to chuckle. The release of tension was good for both of them, and they finally started to relax.

“Spider poison, huh?” Waylon idly wondered as they finished the charred rabbit meat. “What’s up with that?”

“See the wagon there?” Grant pointed at the rickety rig. “I killed three monsters, and I’m carting them along.”

Waylon went to take a look, and almost screamed in shock when he got a closer look. “Gleam-Fang Stalkers! How are you alive?”

“What are you talking about?” Grant started to get a bad feeling replacing his pride from only a moment prior.

“Stalkers never give up one they designate their prey! Unless you manage to kill the queen and start a hive war, they’ll keep coming after you. Only way to stop them is to burn out the nest whenever you find them.” Waylon stared at the corpses for a few long minutes, then paled as he realized how fresh they were. “How… how long ago did you kill these?”

“Yesterday.” Grant’s voice was dull as he realized the danger wasn’t as far behind him as he had hoped.

Waylon looked like he wanted to run, but he held his ground. “You know where the nest is? You can seek succor from House Wednesday, and they’ll issue a quest to burn it out. Where is it?”

“Big hollow tree about half a day’s walk back down this road?” Grant’s voice was a whisper.

“I know it.” Waylon took a few deep breaths. “Okay. Okay. This one… it’s so big it has to be a queen. That gives us at least until overmorrow till any remaining monsters gather the beasts among them to hunt you as revenge for regicide. I’m going to harvest these, then you’re gonna come with me and we are going to run for our lives, warning everyone to get off the road and out of town until a subjugation crew comes through here. This is about to be the most dangerous road in the District. Also, how did you know I’m a Wielder?”

“That’s… I am too.” Grant’s sword sizzled with Stolen Sunlight, and Waylon’s eyes widened.

“That looks just like what Paladin Quentin could do in the stories from before the Wielder Wars!” Waylon’s excitement didn’t stop him from rapidly cutting up the Gleam-Fangs. He tossed their fangs, poison sacks, eyes, and oddly enough their entire legs on top of his wagon and strapped them under a tarp. “Did you find a lost Wielded Weapon?”

“Yes and no?” Grant wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t sound like a lie or evasion. “This is mine.”

“The reward for returning a Wielded Weapon is unimaginable, Grant. It’ll make the bounty for all this look like legumes.” Waylon shook his head as Grant reached for his own hand cart. “Leave that here. It’ll slow us down, and you’ll need to take turns with me pulling this.”

“What? Why?” Grant grumbled at the thought of pulling along that behemoth of a wagon.

“Cause if we sleep, the Gleam-Fang scent-scouts that are tracking you will tear our necks open.” Waylon giggled frantically. “So we’re going to be running until we collapse in the arms of a Calendar of Vassals!”

Grant put his head in his hands. “All I wanted to do was find my first elemental spell. Why did this happen?”

“Spell? Why didn’t you say so?” Waylon immediately stopped and opened his wagon, much too quickly for Grant’s liking. He pulled out a book and handed it over, “This is the most terrible spell in the world, and you’re gonna want to leave it behind at the first opportunity, but it’ll give you a handle on how spells work. Good training, very character building. It’ll also help you run.”

Grant took the book and stared at it for a moment. Waylon looked at him expectantly, so Grant finally cleared his throat and muttered, “How do I use this?”

“Oh.” Waylon pointed at February Twenty Nine. “There’s a reason that only Wielders and Vassals are able to learn spells anymore. Your spell slot is not in your mind, it is in your Wielded Weapon. Touch the book to the weapon, accept it. Also, sorry about this. It’s called Spark Shield, and I’m not sure you’d want to use this, but it’s the best way to force yourself to keep moving.”

“Why?” Grant had almost followed instructions blindly, and he swore to himself that he was going to stop doing that. “What’s the deal?”

Waylon snapped his fingers at him to hurry him up. “It hurts. A lot. When your mental cultivation gets high enough, it will kill you after a few seconds of use. Hence the whole ‘you’ll get rid of this soon enough’. That and the whole stigma of using spells…”

“Why in the twelve Districts would I want to use Spark Shield?” Grant started to hand it back, feeling frustrated as Waylon ignored his outstretched hand.

“Use it. Like any other elemental spell, it can be cast as an active or passive. This one can also be used as a training aid. If cast with enough skill to use it properly, it shocks the body in specific places and makes muscles twitch for hours… potentially. Ideally. Great for teaching fast-twitch muscles and reaction speed… but very painful.”

Before Grant could say another word Sarge broke in, <Take it, Grant. It’s a training spell, I’ll be able to direct the usage. For you, there are very few choices that would be better. This will get you a feel for how to control mana, without having to actually control it yourself.>

“Another benefit,” Waylon continued since Grant wasn’t saying anything, “if you cast it as an active, it makes anyone that touches you get shocked. As your mental cultivation is probably still low, it won’t do too much damage, but it could give you an edge? In a fight, every advantage is important… an~nd there’re spiders coming to kill you.”

“Spark Shield it is then.” Grant tried to look upbeat as he accepted the spellbook. He didn’t relish the prospect of being zapped into action, but he wouldn't know exactly what it was like until he tried it. He ran his hand across the embossed leather cover with the image of a zigzag etched on it. Opening the page, he was presented with details of the spell… and yet he still couldn’t read very well. He shrugged and touched the book to his weapon.

NEW! Elemental Spell gained: Spark Shield

Active Mode

Mana cost: 5% per second. Mana regen halted.

Damage(Self): 25% Mental cultivation per second.

Damage(Other): 50% Mental cultivation per second.

Training Mode

Mana cost: 1% per second. Mana regen halved while active.

Damage(self): 10% Mental cultivation per second.

Cultivation counts as doubled while active and able to affect muscles.

Your Wielded Weapon, February Twenty Nine, is equipped with a training ability. It is requesting control of Spark Shield. This permission can be revoked at any time. Allow? Yes / No.

“Yes.” As soon as he accepted, Grand could feel something deep within himself shifting, altering pathways and allowing something primal to move through him. “Is this… mana?”

<Yup. Aspected as lightning.>

“Yeowch!” Grant bellowed as his limbs locked up.

Damage taken: 0 lightning damage per second! (4 mitigated.) (Continuous.)

<Aren’t you so glad your cultivations are so well balanced? With even this characteristic in armor, we can keep this active all the time!>