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This beautiful piece of fan art was created by AchillesTheHedge. I'd be remiss if I didn't link his Blue Sky account to throw a little advertising his way. You can see his step wise creation of this work on discord. Including a fun variation that adds a Soul Eater style mad moon.
-oOo- Chapter 69-oOo-
“I’m off to work, my dear.”
Esmeralda leaned in for a kiss. Without thinking, Sylvia turned from her blue screen to welcome her lover’s affection. Morning light shimmered off Emmy’s long, emerald hair. The sun itself couldn’t match the bright smile on her lady’s lips.
“See you later,” Sylvia breathed.
“And you too, my adorable princess,” Esmeralda returned. “Don’t be a layabout. I know someone has said something dreadfully stupid on the internet, but that doesn’t mean you can neglect your labors.”
“Trolling fools is one of my duties,” Sylvia scoffed. Her pastel pink eyes returned to her blue window. In truth, she’d been reading the latest news about the Cloud Island Wilderness. “And since when did I have the time to be a layabout?”
With a light titter and the rustle of her skirts, Emmy slipped out of the room. Sylvia watched through the window as her wife flew into the sky on her way to Starport. With a light smile, she finished her snide post before snapping the virtual screen closed.
She stood, a shirt dress hanging off her delicate frame. It was time to head to work for her as well. Luckily, most of her work could be done at home. So, after crossing through their house, Sylvia entered her first floor office.
The room was split into three parts. On the largest, left side was a pile of alchemy equipment. Flasks, beakers, tubes, and pipettes filled the shelves along with an alembic. A small furnace, no more than one meter high, was set on a desk, ready to handle complicated reactions. It’d taken some effort to route the ether channels just to supply it. Nearby were larger glass chambers filled with various types of purified essence. Finally, shuffled into a far corner, was Sylvia’s cauldron, which she occasionally used to brew potions.
On the room’s right side were the tools of enchantment: a desk, along with magiscopes, rune styluses, and a small enchanter’s hammer for minor shaping tasks. Lumps of wood were piled on the desk’s surface, samples Sylvia used to confirm the effect of experimental rune sequences on real materials. Simulations were good, but sometimes they had subtle errors.
Near these was a collection of phantasmal cores. One, the cracked heart of a rattle cobra. A product of last year’s failed attempts to turn the snake into a gargoyle. Emmy had succeeded in her trials shortly thereafter. Similar crystals were piled up beside it, psychic cores for golems. Sylvia was trying to figure out how to imprint a reduced System Kernel.
Finally, at the head of the room, squeezed in between the territories of alchemy and enchantment, was Sylvia’s primary work desk. Claiming her cushy, swivel chair, the silver-haired witch leaned back. Her hand made a lazy swish, projecting a large wrap-around screen in the empty space in front of her.
Her digitized soul whirled. Onto the window she added charts, documents, and emails.
The witch began by skimming through a list of action items from her Swallows Conglomerate. Work orders, which required her approval. Status reports from sales, production, and the R&D groups. Sylvia checked the numbers against the company’s projections, confirming that their revenue, profit, and EBITDA were all within reason.
Broom sales were lagging. No surprise there. Warriors and hunters had fled Swift Brooms in favor of Freedom Wings. The staff business, on the other hand, was booming. There were no pending orders for ships yet, but Sylvia knew a big contract would land later this year.
She moved to the next page. Wells and Swallow was growing rapidly. Silas, as usual, had his competitors on the run. The man was good at his job, not like a certain lazy somebody who kept swapping hats. Next, Sylvia checked her stocks. She had partial ownership of a number of businesses, not just in the Cloud Island Wilderness, but also on Earth. Some were up. Her meme coin was down. Nothing to be worried about.
Financial matters settled, Sylvia turned her eye to academics. Among her many roles, she held the title ‘Director of the Department of Dungeons’ at the Astral Observatory. Thankfully, it was a small research group. Sylvia quickly skimmed through a few reports. She wasn’t lax. Though her work was limited, her role was important, so each report demanded actual time and effort. Today it was easy enough: an approval to purchase new materials and an interesting proposal for improved mounts.
Hmm, didn’t Glenda try to hybridize a red-eyed raven and a three sister’s roc a few months back? The result had been an ugly monstrosity, if Sylvia recalled correctly. The direction, though, had shown promise. A roc with the raven’s foresight and their void wing ability would be terrifying.
Sylvia wrote a quick e-mail, then sent the exploratory proposal to the blonde professor.
Groaning, she stretched.
“It’s a good thing I bought those skill books on how to manage a business.”
Fourteen hundred merit points well spent. Without them, Sylvia would’ve used twice as much time to run through her list, handling tasks with half the competence. It was only after consuming those skill books that Sylvia put Swift Brooms back into order. The company had turned into something of a mess, succeeding mostly because of its first mover advantage and the weak competition.
Refocusing on her screen, Sylvia swung her hand, sending most of the pages out of view. Next, she checked the time: 9:30. Wonderful, she could spare a moment for serious work. Eager to escape the prison of paper, the witch opened Runeworks Studio.
Swift Brooms’ latest product was a wood element staff tailored for the construction industry. The key selling point would be the efficiency of labor. For this, they needed a mana reduction component and a shape stabilization function. Katrina was having problems integrating the former with the latter while maintaining a low cost of manufacture.
Looking over the sequence, Sylvia played with the runes before testing them against simulated materials. She was fully in the zone when her phone rang. Brrring. Brrring. Irritated, she opened the app. Her digitized soul caught the name before she answered.
Oh muffins, it was Empress Idetta.
“Empress Idetta,” Sylvia said, using her sweetest tones. “I’m surprised you are calling. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Salutations, Apostle of Fire,” Idetta’s voice clicked over the line. “I call because I have detected an issue with the interplanar gate. Duty demands you come here immediately.”
That sounded serious. Sylvia flicked off her screen before standing.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” she said firmly.
The silver-haired witch used her invisible camera around to check her appearance. Her hair and makeup were fine. For clothes, she was wearing the Gown of the Water Maiden, the only things missing being a pair of shoes and a nice, snazzy hat. Since she was in a fancy mood, Sylvia went for her top hat instead of the more common blue beret.
“Your diligence is worthy of your position. I shall guide you by way of my children during your descent.”
Without so much as a goodbye, Idetta hung up. The immortal beast hadn’t yet grasped the human precepts of politeness. Which wasn’t surprising. The empress was an ant. Either that, or she didn’t care, because she was an ant.
After stepping outside the household wards, Sylvia chanted. “■■■■ ■■■■.”
A whirl of realm opened in front of her. The silver-haired girl stepped through her gate.
Voomp.
Two seconds later, she emerged in Axis.
The waygate she’d built eons ago had been moved to a side room in Viridian Station. Only a handful of gamers were keyed to the arch, making it something of a private pad for Esmeralda and herself. As the portal snapped shut behind her, Sylvia strode out the door and into the main hall, her high heels clicking on polished stone floor.
Two score gamers filled the station house, awaiting the next opening of the gates. The only destinations were Windroost and Starport. Eventually, there would be gates to various regions throughout the world. The scene reminded Sylvia of the airports back on Earth, though the stone arches and artistry of this building were decidedly more upscale than the ones Eric had visited before he passed.
Like the airports she remembered, travel by gate was pricey. Tickets started at 24 silver, plus another 18 for each consolidation the gamer had crossed. There could be no cheating the government either, as the ticketing process was handled by the System via the guardian dungeon Sylvia had installed under Viridian City.
Despite the cost, many gamers made use of the gates. It wasn’t just about time. It was a matter of risk and comfort. Traveling to Starport by broom was grueling and dangerous. Airships let travelers relax, but they came with a measure of risk. The price, however, couldn’t be beat. Typically, an airship hit its limit due to physical volume or weight long before spiritual mass played a role. For this reason, ticket prices were flat, costing only 2 silver and 50 coppers for the journey to Starport.
This was where time became a factor. Airships stopped at every port. A trip to Starlight often claimed 8 to 12 hours.
Sylvia exited the building.
Silvers of daylight filtered through Yaalon’s leaves. The main archway of Viridian Station was decorated by a pair of statues: witches with raised staves, the tip of their weapons meeting overhead. The image was meant to honor the role Esmeralda and Sylvia had played when designing the gate network. Annoyingly, some of her fans wanted to make the symbol universal, placing statues at every gate station in the Cloud Island Wilderness.
“This is why I ended up a princess,” Sylvia grumbled under her breath.
Checking the sky for cross traffic, she summoned her broom.
Empress Idetta’s kingdom was a nest of tunnels and chambers beneath Axis. There were only three entrances, ant hills which poked up from the underground. When Sylvia was governor, she’d set aside a square kilometer around each for Idetta’s sole use and control.
The closest of these was three kilometers east of Yaalon Lake. This was also the path nearest the deep chambers built under the world tree’s gargantuan roots. With the speed of her broom, it only took three minutes to get there.
Sylvia gazed at the rolling grasslands as she flew toward her destination. Golems and players worked a series of fields, growing numerous plants, many of which had been brought from Tartarus or Jeolsung. Further out, hunters prowled, low-level gamers seeking to harvest the phantasms let loose by her dungeons or spawned by the world’s logic. Normally, such heavy hunting would disrupt the notion of the beast’s presence, but an occasional dungeon break had proven an effective cure to this problem.
The ant hill came into view. It was a skyscraper of dirt standing one hundred meters tall. Hive ant scouts buzzed in the air around it while a line of ants made their way to the nearest wood. A few gamers helped, bringing carts full of lumber into the Empress’s domain.
Sylvia landed near the tunnel’s mouth. It hadn’t been more than ten minutes since the Empress had called.
“Apostle,” a worker clicked, lowering its antennae.
Sylvia’s low-heeled pumps set down on the dirt. Though she was fond of the dress, of all the shoes Esmeralda had provided, she liked these the least.
“Empress Idetta,” Sylvia returned, vanishing her broom before flowing into a polite curtsy. “What’s the issue?”
“The situation is better seen,” Idetta clicked through her meatsuit proxy. “Come with me.”
They entered the tunnels.
It was pitch black. Hive ants didn’t need eyes to navigate through their tunnels. Their antennae combined with their psychic collective let the phantasms move swiftly and surely through the twisting paths. Fortunately, Sylvia could see just fine, thanks to the etheric energy shed by the walls. Not that it helped. Even with her map and her high wit attribute, Sylvia feared it’d take an hour to navigate her way back out.
Of course, if she ended up in such a scenario, she’d just use a gate. Teleportation was handy.
Fifteen minutes later, they entered a colossal chamber. Giant roots pierced the ceiling, winding through the open space before penetrating into the ground below. Ants moved about, carrying materials. Walls of compacted dirt were being reinforced with dense stone. Ether channels were planted between layers. The wood used was crude, but it served to fuel the enchantments Empress Idetta herself had wrought.
At the center of this chamber was a pillar of gold. The column was made from three massive pipes twisted into a helix. The top punched into the ceiling. The base spread out when it met solid, marble floor. Liquid oozed from golden mouths.
The sap of Yaalon, gathered for millennia by the tap forged by the keeper. This column wasn’t just a pipe, it was a filter. The viscous, purified liquid poured into three stone pools. The first was a seething rainbow of primordial color. The second, green beset with ribbons of pitch black, millions of stars twinkling in its depth. The last was luminescent red, spider webs of pure blue and purple within it.
If one looked close, they’d see crystals congealed in the depths. Elemental sources, some nearly flawless, others heavily blemished.
None of this, however, was what brought Sylvia here.
Her eyes were on the giant interplanar gate built beside the pool of chaos. High-quality ether channels linked this stone frame to vast reservoirs of elemental energy. Right now, the gate was broken in two parts. This was by design. The structure sat upon a massive, circular pedestal which could be rotated. As the floor turned, the gate frame would smoothly rejoin or separate, creating a powerful and highly effective lock.
“When the gate opened this morning, the frame showed a strange stutter,” Empress Idetta explained as they approached. “I ordered it deactivated immediately. The meaning of this is beyond my understanding. Apostle, the Great Work calls upon you. Lend me your wisdom.”
“Give me a moment to examine it first,” Sylvia deadpanned.
A little less pressure would be nice.
Her pastel pink eyes serious, she walked up to the frame. First, she scanned the outer layer. Then, she placed her hand on the stone, her ki slipping past protection to interface with the maintenance bypass. Causality magic flickered.
Observe Item. Observe Item. Observe Item.
As data filtered through her digitized soul, Sylvia frowned. This giant interplanar gate had been installed four years ago. Since then, the old route to Faded Star had been designated as a backup. Namely, so Sylvia or Emmy could teleport to the micro plane for routine checks and upgrades.
This change was driven by the number of souls transported. The old gate could handle ten souls per day. The new gate could transport fifty-thousand in a single year. Not that it’d been operating near capacity. Given the low volumes, it should’ve been as steady as a rock.
Especially since, the silver-haired witch looked at her notes, it’d been checked five months ago.
Two meters away, an ant waggled its antennae.
“You do realize you can purchase channeling wood from the gamers,” Sylvia said conversationally, eyes flickering to the uncovered ether channels set in the walls.
“My children are many. Your people are few, Apostle,” Idetta replied. “To take from yours would interfere with the Great Work. Nor is there a need. Not when He blesses us with infinite knowledge. His wisdom enters me, and through me, my children become instruments.”
Sylvia nodded absently, virtual data flashing past her eyes. Hmm. Everything looked right. She touched the gate. This time she catalyzed realm before pushing it through the stone. Cross-checking her notes, she compared the flow and interactions against the results witnessed during their initial tests.
Wonderful. Just wonderful. Everything was per spec. Which meant figuring this out was going to be a pain in her rum cake.
“I might need a few hours,” Sylvia commented, glancing back at the ant.
“Do as you will, Apostle of Fire,” Idetta clicked.
In the end, she only needed one. By the time Sylvia had finished, her expression was ugly.
“A small portion of the interstice opal is undergoing dissolution,” she concluded. “This is causing discontinuities along the interface between the void rock and the space stone.”
They’d expected to lose some of the opal during the first ten years of operation. The breakdown she was seeing here, however, had came out of left field. There was obviously some sort of alchemical reaction going on between the two materials that their models hadn’t picked up.
“When can it be fixed?” Empress Idetta clicked in agitation. “These souls are needed for the Great Work. Every day delayed is forty gamers who have failed to enter our kingdom. A moment lost to our enemy. A spark of strength which would let us stand fast against our foe.”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “A patch job looks possible, but we need to test it first. And we have to check this gate’s sibling on Faded Star. If we have a problem here, we might have it everywhere.”
Interstice opal was their substitute for realm brick. All the new gate frames used it, including those in the planar gate network. This problem had the potential to turn into a disaster.
“For now, the gate stays off,” Sylvia commanded. “If a patch job is possible, we should have things running again in a week. I’m sending notices to all the relevant parties right now.”
“Unfortunate. Unfortunate,” the empress clicked unhappily. “This is our utmost priority, Apostle. The utmost!”
It took twenty minutes to write all the e-mails. While she worked, Sylvia followed Empress Idetta out of the tunnel. By the time sunlight touched her face, Emmy had written back. The Department of Materials was looking into the issue, and they’d be responsible for checking the other frames.
It was nice to have people.
Brrring. Brrring.
Her phone rang again. Of course. Stepping off the ground, Sylvia mounted her Lunam Fuga.
“Governor Sanchez,” she answered. “This is about the gates, I presume?”
Wind turned into a roar as Sylvia picked up speed. Twin, silvery tails stretched behind her like streamers, dancing chaotically in the gale. None of this interrupted the clarity of the System’s virtual service.
“This is for another matter, actually,” Joshua’s smooth voice contradicted. “I called because I was hoping we could meet before you left Axis.”
Viridian City came into view.
The town was starting to earn its name. Numerous buildings sprawled along the river. On the eastern bank, the ramshackle slums bulged out in a hideous blight, their ugly growth expanding north and south. Lenape had already made comments about the profane extension. Sylvia was curious how the governor would appease the less genial immortal beasts. The western side, by contrast, developed in an orderly manner. The streets were laid out in a uniform grid, fancy buildings rising from every block.
As the gamers gained wealth, the popularity of Viridian City’s west side rose.
“When do you want to meet?” Sylvia asked. She checked the time. It was half past one.
“If you can spare a moment, now would be excellent.”
She sighed. Her broom dipped, aiming for City Hall rather than the commercial district. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
The artistry of City Hall was inspired by renaissance castles. For a long time, the building had been used as the Viridian City’s Guild Hall. In fact, there were still services on the first floor near the main entrance. The governor’s office was in the central turret on the second floor.
Sylvia had been there thrice. Joshua Sanchez, by contrast, could be found there five days a week.
Governor Sanchez stood when Sylvia entered. “Princess Swallows,” he greeted with a broad smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you on such short notice.”
The reformed weeb had adapted to his role perfectly, wearing a sharp suit, a tie, and an enchanted pair of glasses. Sylvia, however, would always remember him from Operation Skyneedle. The ronin figure floating on a carpet of petals, his hakama billowing in the wind. The flash of his katana and a quote from a trashy anime on his lips.
She waited patiently for the man to push his glasses up, letting them catch a flash of light. She just knew he was going to do it eventually.
Weeb.
“Governor Sanchez,” Sylvia returned, shaking the man’s hand. “It was no matter. I was already in the area.”
The governor’s office sported a broad, shiny desk. The seal of the Cloud Island Wilderness was engraved into the desk’s front while flags were positioned on either side, each showing the branches of Yaalon. Behind him were a pair of windows, soft light filtering through the drawn curtains.
“Tell me about the gates, then,” Governor Sanchez said, crossing the hardwood floor to sit on his desk. “Is the problem serious?”
“It’s big in the sense that the Beginner’s Village and the Novice Village won’t be receiving new players,” Sylvia answered. “However, I think it’s fixable. If it isn’t, we can jury-rig the frames to restore operation until we can build a replacement. In the worst case scenario, we’ll have to send a ship to Jeolsung for realm brick and use that instead of interstice opal.”
Joshua nodded along.
“I’ll be counting on you and your wife to resolve this issue, of course. If there’s any way the government can help, let me know.” Mr. Sanchez hopped off the desk, stooping to grab a case. Joshua set it on the table, popping the latches. “The gates, however, aren’t why I brought you here.”
Sylvia stepped close, her eyes narrowing. Inside the case were dozens of beast cores. These stones came in various craggy shapes, translucencies, and colors. Each was a heart torn from a phantasmal being. Cores had many uses. They could be transformed into soul stones, modified into gargoyles, or reconstituted to revive the creature.
But the cores here were designated for a dungeon.
“■, ■, ■.”
Three spells sang on Sylvia’s tongue. Silent boundary, anonymous presence, and tangled weave were cast in rapid percussion. Usually, the asteri preferred private booth, but the governor’s office was already warded. Private booth wouldn’t play well with those enchantments. Simpler spells did.
“All of the cores here are from the Fey Federation,” Sylvia stated.
It wasn’t a question. It was a deduction.
“A small fey kingdom,” Joshua confirmed, he gestured for her to sit as he walked around his desk, reclaiming his chair. “You’ll understand if I don’t tell you which one.”
The Fey Federation was a loose union of independent states. The nation rose from the various tribes who’d fled Heaven but didn’t join Hell’s rebellion, as well as those who’d rejected unity during the Golden Age. In this sense, the Fey Federation was better equated to the European Union of Sylvia’s mortal life.
Politically, the Fey Federation was divided into factions. The largest of these were the Winter and Summer courts. Winter embraced the less-human bloodlines and favored military strength over property and comfort. Of the two courts, its diplomacy leaned most strongly toward Hell, with Winter often warning that Heaven was a latent threat.
Summer, by contrast, chased art, comfort, and economic prosperity. Fey rights were given heavy weight, with some states going so far as to outlaw slavery. Due to their character, Summer saw a natural ally in Heaven. Though, they remained rightly wary, thanks to the history between the two nations.
“Operation Centralia Flame has begun, then,” Sylvia said, taking a seat.
“Not yet,” Governor Sanchez replied, leaning back. “Our agents are establishing their local legend. What we need is a dungeon to cut down on the cross traffic. This is part of the precursor quest, Dark Cavern. I don’t plan to launch Centralia Flame until we have network roots set up to route System communications through other planes.”
Operation Centralia Flame was suitably named after a coal mine fire that had never been quenched. The goal? To plant the System on another world then home grow a set of gamers deep inside the Fey Federation. This was to be a decoy fire with which they could distract the major powers.
If they were very lucky, one of the fey kingdoms might adopt the System directly. In which case, Centralia Flame would be more than a torch in the night. Instead, it’d be a powerful ally fighting at their side.
Naturally, everything related to this mission was hush, hush. The broad strokes, however, couldn’t be hidden from Sylvia’s eyes. Her title, Founder of the Cloud Island Wilderness, gave her unlimited right to peruse confidential government documents. And, who else was Mr. Sanchez going to turn to when he wanted a dungeon created? As far as Sylvia was aware, there were only three people with a Dungeon Core Creator Certificate. The others being Glenda Fischer and Sylvia’s wife.
“I can have a dungeon for you in a few months,” she said. “But I need to know how it’ll integrate into the local terrain and what kind of tweaks are required to minimize the communication footprint.”
“I’ll send you whatever data you require,” Governor Sanchez replied. The dark-haired man reached across the table then closed the case. “But we’ll keep the cores here until you’re ready to use them.”
As though her house wasn’t among the securest locations on the plane. Oh, well. As an evil oligarch, she did need to leave the bureaucrats some sense of power. If not, they might be tempted to reign her in.
“Then, a good day to you, Mr. Sanchez,” Sylvia said rising. Out of habit, she offered a small curtsy.
“And to you as well, Princess Swallows,” Joshua replied. “You have cast a long shadow on us all. Those of us who follow in your wake can only hope to equal what you’ve accomplished.”
“I was split too many ways,” Sylvia refuted, shaking her head. “This plane hasn’t stopped growing. You’ll leave your mark on this world, Governor Sanchez.”
“I’ll dream of leaving a legend half as large as yours, then,” Joshua returned with a charming smile.
With pleasantries complete, Sylvia left.
Her next stop was a little store on the river called: ‘Shoes, Shoes, Shoes’. Sylvia had never liked shopping for clothes. Even the thought of doing so conjured a horrible, stuffy feeling in her chest. It recalled miserable memories of little Eric being dragged through department stores as a child.
As a girl, shopping was marginally better. Sylvia enjoyed seeing her pretty figure in various outfits. But she’d never like it. Which was one of the many reasons she often wore whatever Emmy provided. Hats, though, might prove an exception. Then again, hats weren’t clothes. They were fashion. This dream, sadly, would have to wait until the Cloud Island Wilderness had a hat store.
The lack was a travesty.
B-dring.
A little bell rang as she entered. On a dozen shelves were displayed more than one hundred shoes. Heels in every shape, style, and color. One glance was enough to know to whom ‘Shoes, Shoes, Shoes’ catered. This was a store for the ladies. To be fair, there were designs for men in the mix, but they made up less than ten-percent of the total.
In other words, Sylvia had descended into the deepest, darkest, foulest pit in the abyss. And what brought this pure and innocent princess into those vile depths?
An accessory.
The silver-haired witch had fond memories of her Blood Bone Heels. The freedom of flight. The joy of walking on air. Yes, she was fully aware those shoes had been part of Emily’s evil plot. She was no fool. She could see the pattern. First came Ingrid’s stripper heels. Next, the waltz of flowers. Finally, her pink pumps.
A merciless manipulation designed to corrupt her heart. Only a depraved and despicable devil would dream of such a scheme. And alas, she had fallen. Sylvia’s pure being had been perverted by the basest and lowest form of fashion. Why, she could hardly remember the last time she’d worn shoes without heels.
Yet, revenge was hers in the end. Sylvia had viciously stolen the imp’s heart!
“Your highness,” the proprietress greeted.
Melissa, the owner of and designer for ‘Shoes, Shoes, Shoes’, offered a delighted curtsy. The woman had been over the moon when Sylvia had made her commission. The Cloud Princess wearing her shoes? What could be possibly be better? The golden glitter of Sylvia’s coins had probably played a role too. Viridian City was still a little too small for such a specialized shop.
“There’s no need for that,” she waved off, approaching the desk. “You wanted me to look over the designs?”
“Yes, I’ve prepared thirty of the eighty models you requested,” Melissa answered in a chipper tone. “They’re upstairs. Let me show you.”
Excited, the blonde hurried around the counter, flipping the door sign from open to closed. Sylvia followed Melissa through the back door and into the apartment space above. Proudly, the proprietress gestured to the table.
Sylvia gazed at an array of pumps, wedges, ankle boots, slingbacks, peep toes, and Mary Janes. There was even a flat-heeled specimen in the mix, a rugged pair of boots. With a serious expression, she studied each before picking up a pair of mules – open-backed, slip-on shoes with clunky heels. The silver-haired girl turned them in her hands, examining their features.
Color didn’t matter. Nor was she trying to pick her preference. The accessory Sylvia had planned would have a transformation enchantment. It would let her swap between millions of colors and dozens of styles to suit her whim or her outfit. She had commissioned these models mainly to ensure artistry and comfort.
Sylvia was not, uh, an expert on shoe design. Nor did she wish to become one. There were better uses for her merit points.
“You should try them on,” Melissa encouraged.
Nodding, Sylvia slipped off her blue pumps then put on the brown mules. She took a few steps, feeling the material beneath her feet. Immortals possessed phantasmal bodies. The outer layer of skin was crust, ether pressed into shape by the hidden blood essence. When combined with her vitality attribute, this made Sylvia tough enough to walk on hot coals without being bothered.
So pain or chafing weren’t problems. Still, she frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Melissa asked hurriedly. “Is there an issue with how it grips your foot? Is the size off?”
“It’s not… that,” Sylvia said, hesitating. Then, shamefully, she took the mules off. “It’s just… I think the heels should be a little taller.”
Cheeks burning, the asteri held out a hand. Between her finger and her thumb was a three centimeter gap. Sigh. She really was beyond redemption, wasn’t she?
Melissa had to raise a hand to hide her laughter.
“Sorry, sorry,” the proprietress apologized. “I thought, as a princess, you’d want something more….”
Sylvia scowled. Cute? Elegant? Demure? What word had Melissa dropped? The blonde woman’s brown eyes gleamed. Hands clasped together, the proprietress bounced.
“Since you have those interests,” Melissa said, voice rising into a squeak. “How about I show you my secret collection?”
Without waiting for an answer, Melissa hurried into her bedroom. Sylvia paused for a moment, wondering what trauma she’d inflict on herself if she followed. Then, like the brave heroine she was, she entered the next layer of the abyss.
Melissa’s closet held forty shoes. Each was elegantly positioned then illuminated by a bright white light as though they were treasures. They had gorgeous, sleek leather and towering heels. The designs ranged from seductive to outright fetish. Sylvia froze when she took in the sight, refusing to believe such a collection could be real.
Why? Why did women do that to themselves?
Though, Ingrid would’ve felt right at home.
“I just can’t bring myself to wear them in public,” Melissa shared conspiratorially. “But they’re so sexy, I can’t help myself.”
“They’re… magnificent,” Sylvia deadpanned. She didn’t believe she was going to say this. “However, I think I should stick to styles that say: ‘princess.’”
“I know,” Melissa agreed. “That’s why I keep them here, in secret. In your case, I think it’d be best to add an inch to the models you’ve seen. Then, for the next group, I’ll make them a little steamy. Sensual, but in an elegant lady-like way and not ‘bend me over the nearest table.’”
Well, it was good that Melissa understood Sylvia’s concern.
“The final batch should emphasize cuteness,” Sylvia added, all business. “Make them delicate and sweet, so they’ll go with my frilly dresses.”
Emmy wasn’t Emily, but the eyes of Sylvia’s wife would light up when the silver-haired witch put on a dress covered in bows and ribbons. Being a loving spouse, she liked to indulge Emmy on the occasion. Also, she didn’t mind so much anymore. She was already a princess. Everyone expected her to be the pinnacle of girlishness. Her reputation was in the gutter, it couldn’t sink further no matter how hard she tried.
So why not have a little fun from time to time by dressing super cute?
“Sugar and spice,” Melissa said excitedly. “Should the heels be 2 or 3 inches?”
“3 inches,” Sylvia answered without a second’s hesitation. She wasn’t a cat, so how could she wear shoes made for kittens?
The silver-haired girl stopped, flabbergasted by a pair of torture devices masquerading as shoes. If a lady were to wear them, she’d be forced to walk, quite literally, on her toes. Which, admittedly, wasn’t too difficult in the netherworld.
But why would anyone think of such an absurdity in the first place? No. There was a better question to be asked. Why did Melissa make a pair and add them to her collection?
Some things were better left unknown.
“If you don’t mind me asking, are movement techniques worth it?” Melissa asserted.
Sylvia turned away from the display to face the blonde proprietress. “Having a good movement technique is always worth it.”
“I meant, so I could wear them. In the field,” Melissa continued, gesturing at her collection. “I know there are three manifestation arts that work well with heels, but I keep worrying it’s too expensive to buy the last two ki techniques I need to learn them.”
Oh. Sylvia had forgotten about that. After generating a library of skill books, the System had organized them into a skill tree. To learn manifestation realm arts, for instance, a gamer needed to acquire mastery with three ki technique sets first. For most players, skill books were expensive. Melissa had probably used most of her merit points to learn how to craft.
“I suppose you could use a blank skill book,” Sylvia mused. “And you don’t have to reach the manifestation realm either. There are a few arts, like the waltz of flowers, which will offset most of the disadvantages even in the externalization realm.”
“Really?” Melissa’s brown eyes glowed.
Some girls, Sylvia would never understand them.
“Really,” Sylvia said blandly before changing the subject. She pointed at three pairs of shoes. “I like these. Add them to the models. Just make them… more dignified.”
She had wanted to say ‘less slutty’ but caught herself at the last moment.
“Of course, your highness,” Melissa accepted with a curtsy.
Sylvia checked the time. It was a quarter past two already? The day was just flying by.
“I need to get going,” she apologized. “Let me know when the new models are ready, I’ll swing by to check them out. ■■■■ ■■■■.”
With the swish of her arm, the asteri cut a blue-green swirl into the world.
Voomp.
A single step and she was on Starlight. Gate Point hadn’t changed since she’d last visited. The old interplanar gate was still there, guarded by wards and gargoyles. High heels clicking, the silver-haired girl walked out of the stone hall, the bridge ahead of her and Chaos Lagoon to her left.
“I need to stop by the Observatory for some materials then check on the smith,” she murmured.
She took to the air, skating across void on a road of pale petals. When she reached the peninsula, her broom was already in hand sending her zooming forward at greater speeds.
Recently, Starport’s population had crossed three thousand. As the numbers swelled, so too did the streets and buildings beside them. The densest parts of the city were found near the tip of the peninsula and along the inner curve. To the south, just outside of Cape Moonlight, a large astralship was tied to a jetty. The once swirling astral currents had been tamed by the shield islands strung up years ago.
It took only two minutes to reach the Astral Observatory. The seven-story tower was a bright pillar, its white walls reflecting the afternoon light. The grounds had been carefully curated, with flowers and bushes adding to the flair. It was also quiet. The Moonlight Academy was just down the street, but the students rarely spilled out into the tower’s territory.
The Astral Observatory hosted several research groups. The departments of Dungeons, Material Alchemy, Industry, Arts and Techniques, and Medical Alchemy all found their home within these walls.
Brrring. Brrring.
And… once again, her phone was ringing.
“What is your desire, my most beautiful wife?” Sylvia answered.
“Tell me, was that you I saw approaching the observatory?” Esmeralda asked, her lovely voice carried by the System.
“That was me,” Sylvia confirmed as she entered the building.
“Then, could you be a dear and help me unscramble this psychic interface?”
Pivoting, she headed up the stairs instead of down. “I take it you’re on the sixth floor then?”
“You know I am.”
The sixth floor of the tower was home to the simulation room. Or, what would be the simulation room when it was finished. Right now, the floor had no dividers, leaving a wide space split only by a central pillar. A panel on this column had been removed, granting access to the terminal behind it. This interface connected to the bulky processing node Sylvia had installed in the third floor basement.
Processing nodes were, essentially, specialized dungeon cores made for computation. The one buried here was fed by the giant channels set into Cape Moonlight.
Esmeralda was sitting on the floor, studying a sleek helmet. The emeraldette’s skirts pooled around her, as pure as the lady’s aristocratic beauty. Sylvia needed no reason other than this. Stopping beside her wife, she bent down and gave Emmy a loving kiss.
“What’s giving you trouble?”
“Earlier, I tried testing the connection on one of the students,” Emmy explained. “The poor child experienced quite the headache. Since then, I’ve been puzzling over why it didn’t work as expected. If you could lend me your thoughts, I’d be most appreciative. Assuming, of course, you have a moment to spare.”
Sylvia held out her hands, Esmeralda passed the helmet to her, transmitting a packet of digital information as she did so.
“I stopped by to pull materials for dungeon experiments,” Sylvia explained. She turned the instrument, viewing it from multiple angles.
This helmet was a prototype interface for a magical, virtual reality machine. With the processing node, they could create an environment which matched the System’s standard. A gamer could use this to ‘full dive’ into a virtual world, complete with a mental acceleration feature.
Both of them had tried the helmet before. Emmy had achieved a three times multiplier. Sylvia had endured a five times acceleration thanks to her digitized soul.
“I see,” Emmy accepted. “Then allow me to do you a service and bring your things home later.”
“I’ll be counting on you,” Sylvia returned with a smile. Her gaze tightened. “The runes are intact and there are no issues with the flow channels. The intensity is on the lowest setting too, as it should be. There are no problems so far as I can see.”
“Precisely why I am troubled,” Esmeralda replied. “And the student was in the first consolidation, before you ask. Oh, and before I forget, I did read your note regarding the interstice opal.”
Sylvia pinched her chin in thought. “If there’s nothing wrong with the helmet, then there has to be something wrong with either the terminal, the student, or the environ – ”
Her words cut off, suddenly silenced by a pair of lips pressing against her own.
“Thank you, my dear,” Emmy breathed happily. “I realize my error. I neglected how causality would interact with the young man. Or, to be more strict, the equipment he was wearing.”
That’d do it. Anbaht had never caused issues because the legendary artifact had a consciousness. And Esmeralda hadn’t run into the problem because she knew better than to mix magics during experiments.
“This is why characters in anime wear skintight suits,” Sylvia observed wisely.
“No. I believe that is for fan service,” Esmeralda replied disdainfully. “If the cause is what I think, we’ll need to design a detection mechanism to prevent future incidents.”
“Last night, I had some thoughts about how we could better mitigate the psychic pressure,” Sylvia added, handing the helmet back to her wife. “I’ll draw up a sequence later. I think the void element is optimal for this, but we should also consider enchanting the whole floor with laws which will support the virtual world.”
“I will be keen to see your work,” Emmy replied. “But, I shan’t hold you a moment longer. And do not worry about your things. Just send me a list and I’ll bring them when I return.”
With a happy wave, they parted.
Her next stop was at the tip of Cape Moonlight. Here, with the island cutting so deep into the starry void, blue sky was cast into perpetual night. Yet, while the heavens were dark, the land itself was illuminated by the afternoon sun.
The silver-haired witch entered a smithy.
Starport was famous for many things, including its crafts. Thanks to Esmeralda’s scheme, the city had maintained a monopoly on soul-space silver for a full decade. It was only recently that this stranglehold had been broken. The metal now flowed into Viridian City, spurring the crafts there. Yet, most of the production remained on Starlight. In part because the precursor mineral, glimmer, could only be found in the rocks which faced the void.
All this added up to one thing, the best smiths were always found in Starport. This had created a gravitational pull for the crafts, which had drawn life-skill players who wished to master their art.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.
A hammer pounded against wood. Robert Hansen held his arm aloft, his thick bicep a trunk of coiled muscle. Clunk. His mallet came down, smashing the staff against his anvil. Robert was a dark-haired man who’d once worked as the assistant forger at Swift Brooms. The selfish ingrate had moved on, opening a little shop of his own. As the better woman, Sylvia had generously provided half the smith’s contracts.
Though, he definitely didn’t deserve it. Traitor. And to think, Sylvia practically raised him by… err… paying his wages.
“Is it ready?” she asked, voice raised so she could be heard.
Robert looked up then pointed at a shelf. Being familiar with the man, Sylvia walked over and picked up a blackened, metal lump. The rounded, object filled the witch’s tiny hand.
Clunk. Clunk.
Robert was already back to hammering.
Forging in the netherworld was different from what mortals would expect.
High quality equipment was made by smelting multiple materials to create superior alloys. Then, through refinement, the essence could be made better and denser. This improved durability, striking power, and most importantly, the maximum amount of ki or mana that could flow through the object. Finally, when the base was complete, concepts could be taken from select ingredients or enchantments laid by imprinting runes.
Most smiths used their hammer and anvil no matter the base. With each blow, Robert adjusted the spiritual energies inside the staff. This manual process took far longer than a furnace but produced better results. In theory, it was possible to hammer several thousand tonnes of ordinary wood into a staff fit for an archgamer.
Though, one would need the skill and strength of Hephaestus to achieve it.
Ignoring the smith, Sylvia focused on the black lump. Observe Item.
Ding!
Equipment: Root of the Abyss
Weight: 21.7 dromsType: Mystic OrganValue: 54,000 soli
Effects:* Art Enhancement: Flux Shift* Bio-integration
Designed to mimic the heart of an abyss dragon, the Root of the Abyss is both a training tool and a support organ for the transformation realm art flux shift. This organ contains a concept related to both space and abyss. When stimulated with ki, this can cause weak spacial or gravitational distortions.
Art Enhancement: Flux Shift * -10% ki burden* +10% efficiency* +3% effectiveness* Moderate reduction in mental burden
The Root of the Abyss mildly enhances the effect and efficiency of the art flux shift, while reducing the burden placed on the owner’s physical energies. This not only reduces ki consumption, but also increases the force, toughness, and celerity aspects of the user’s ki when using the art. Unfortunately, due to the smith’s poor understanding of flux shift and mystic organs, the benefits of this implant are much diminished.
Bio-Integration
This item is meant to be implanted in the body, acting as the seed organ for the transformation realm art flux shift.
How miserable. Sylvia had paid 30 gold for an item worth 20. Sighing, she slipped the black lump into her inventory. No need to gross anyone out by cutting herself open now.
“Melissa needs more time to finish the models,” she said over the hammering.
Robert stopped for a moment to offer a nod. “The blanks will be ready next week.”
“I’ll swing by to check them out,” Sylvia accepted, adding a note to her calendar.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.
She wondered if Robert saw her leave.
The flight home took a few minutes. From above, she could see the long bridge stretching to Gate Point. Below the crag on which their house was built was a sandy beach brushing against Chaos Lagoon. The lonely Utrecht was moored in this small harbor. Lately, she’d been renting it out to parties who wished to cruise the outer band of the Cloud Island Wilderness. If she didn’t, Lord Potami would have words when they next met.
Like the rest of the plane, Sylvia’s Landing was growing. There were a score of houses spreading away from the beach. To make room, the occupants had beaten back the dense jungle. In ten more years, this little piece of Starlight would truly earn the title of village.
Vanishing her broom, she let herself plunge to the ground on a wave of petals. A dark-skinned woman was occupying the gazebo. Sylvia claimed a wicker chair opposite.
“Don’t you have work to do?” she scoffed.
“It’s been a quiet day,” Belkis replied, leaning back. “I just finished surveying the route to the southern edge of Starlight. The last tunnel to the skyside is almost done, by the way. Since I was already in the air, I thought I’d stop by and say hello, but no one was home. Then you showed up right before I could leave.”
Belkis was Sheriff of Starlight, appointed by Mayor Vallenfelt herself. This was the kind of rough and tumble job the prisma loved. One might think, with an omniscient System, there would be few crimes. But this game world subtly encouraged a bit of evil. Sylvia presumed it was to ‘thicken the plot’.
She knew they had players in prison. Not many, though. Starlight didn’t have dark guilds crawling over it like Windroost and Mountain Point.
“What exciting things had you out and about, Sylvie?” Belkis asked, chin elegantly on the back of her hand.
“Are you implying I’m a homebody?” Sylvia returned in exaggerated retort. “I’ll have you know, I’m a busy woman. I was doing very important things in Axis then the Astral Observatory.”
“That’s my little sis,” Belkis said, slapping the table. “How’s the married life? Are you getting along with Emmy alright?”
“No matter how many times you press, I’m not returning her to you,” Sylvia deadpanned. “But I am planning to cook honey garlic roc tonight, if you’re inclined to bum off your master.”
“That sounds delicious. I’ll definitely be there!” Belkis returned. Her molten eyes flicked to something unseen. The prisma let out a sigh. “Sorry, Sylvie. It looks like I have to get going.”
“Remember, turn your camera off before you beat them.”
Belkis laughed, mounting her broom. “You know I won’t do that. I’m a professional.”
Ha. If Belkis was a real pro, she’d not only abuse her prisoners, she’d plant white powder before the arrest. The prisma was a shame to her occupation. But it was good that Belkis was happy. For a couple of months after the wedding, things had been awkward. Even now, Belkis was swapping between ‘Sylvie’ and ‘little sis’.
Sylvia checked the time. A few minutes past three. Time really did fly. Well, she had a skill book to use then a meal to cook. Adjusting her dress, the silver-haired girl returned to her office. With a thunk Sylvia set the Root of the Abyss on her work table.
“■■.”
The asteri summoned a knife. She took a deep breath then cut her abdomen open. The steel blade of Fischer’s Scalpel sliced cleanly through her inhumanly tough skin. With the wound open, Sylvia allowed herself three breaths then shoved the Root of the Abyss inside.
Wincing, she let the metal lump adjust, moving it with her ki. Soon, it settled just below her belly button. Well, where her belly button would be, if she had one.
“■.” Wood element ether sealed the cut. “Whew. Surgeons wish they had it this easy.”
Or, maybe they wouldn’t. Because if it were this easy for everyone, they’d be out of a job.
Humored, she navigated through her System window to use a prepurchased blank skill book.
Ding!
Create Item: Flux Shift (cultivation) [Excellent]?
Upon confirming the creation of this item, the skill book Flux Shift (cultivation) will be used. Consuming a skill book takes 1 hour, during which the User will be rendered unconscious. Please note, this skill book must be used with a proper seed organ on which to cultivate the transformation art.
Warning: You have 3 creation attempts left.
Confirm / Cancel
Sylvia settled into her executive seat.
The transformation realm lay beyond manifestation. In order to reach it, Sylvia had first used the skill book Flux Shift (manifestation). This alone wasn’t enough. Transformation realm arts were cultivated as much as they were practiced. Through this means, the manifestation concept was made real by imprinting it into the body as a new organ. This was a highly individualized process, as transformation arts must connect to the existing traits of the user.
Creating an organ from scratch was quite difficult. Therefore, warriors often implanted the organs of phantasmal beasts. These were called a seed.
For flux shift, the recommended seed was the heart of an abyss dragon. Sylvia had briefly considered the merits of asking Nithe for his. Then, five milliseconds later, she had dismissed the idea outright. Robert’s artificial construction would make do.
Sylvia closed her eyes. Then she triggered the book.
She was floating in the starry void, her mind turned inward. Ki pulsed, flowing through her meridians, like blood through veins and arteries. Consciousness blended into flesh. Every tissue was made apparent, but clearest of all was the black lump set near her dantian like the core of a cultivator.
With the energies of life, she caressed the metal. Space twisted, distorting around her according to the manifestation art flux shift. But her focus was not on that. Instead, she paid attention to throbbing ki as it played with the instrument. She felt the way her blood tangled with its surface, her spiritual energies flowing in and out of the mystic organ.
Days seemed to blur in a lapse. Hours were reduced to minutes. Flesh grew, stretching tendrils into the artificial lump. Stirred by her ki, Sylvia’s body consumed the black core. What was once separate, melted into her existence. At first a cold, still item. Next, metal crusted in meat. Then, the Root of the Abyss began to pulse as though it were a living thing.
The world trembled with it.
Two weeks passed, then everything reverted. Once again, the lump was cold and still. She carried out the process, repeating the experience again and again. Each time, the link was firmer and the action faster. Until, finally, Sylvia could nurture the organ without the metal seed.
The scene shifted. Time resumed its normal motion. She stood in a green field. Organ already formed, she twisted space around her. She stepped, moving further, faster, and easier than with the manifestation art. She danced, flux shift blending with the waltz of flowers as she swirled along the ground, an eerie astral faerie cavorting in the wilderness.
A day passed. Dance was replaced by battle. Her body flitted between scintillating attacks, moving through trees and corridors. After four days, her control was refined. The interplay between core and art was smooth and flawless.
Things changed again. She meditated, ki flowing through the Root of the Abyss. This time gravity, not space, twisted around her.
She fell up, slowing to a hover a hundred meters above the land. Then she fell down, landing where she began. Next she tumbled left then right. Forward then back. Gravity pulled, dragging her body in every conceivable direction. Space twisted, shrinking or expanding to reduce or exaggerate her motions. She played with twisted space, different distances between foot and head throwing her into spins or cartwheels.
So the fifth week died.
On the sixth, she began to blend waltz, gravity, and space. Phantasmal foes rose around her, ballista bolts screaming through the air. She frolicked around them only to dive into an obstacle course of tight, twisting tunnels. Here, gravity and space were made topsy-turvy. To keep up, she had to bend with it, adjust the flux with every step all while avoiding monsters and nefarious traps.
Finally, she woke.
The silver-haired witch blinked, eyes adjusting to the plane’s light. No headache greeted Sylvia as she stirred. She was no longer a young, weak witch. Her attributes were greater, her digitized soul granting a degree of resistance. Consuming a single skill book wasn’t enough to cause pain. Perhaps, if she used three to five in a row, it’d be a different story.
Ha! If only she were so lucky.
“Even if I know how to use it, I have to cultivate the art first,” Sylvia said, patting her abdomen.
She could already feel ki and flesh blending with the metal. The process was slow. It’d take a week or two before it was finished. She glanced at the clock. A quarter past four. It was time to start cooking. Greedily, Sylvia rubbed her hands together. Tonight, they were going to eat something delicious.
An hour later, the front door opened.
“Honey, I’m home!”
Emmy crossed the house to enter the kitchen. Sylvia turned, the delicious scent of meat clinging to the air. On her head, the silver-haired witch wore a puffy chef’s hat, an adorable frilly apron tied around her waist. There was no hair net, however. Such a thing would only serve to deny her another pair of hands.
“How was work?” Sylvia asked, her right tress gripping a pan’s handle.
A universe of fractal pink gazed lovingly into twin nebulae of umbral green. Esmeralda raised a hand, her sweet voice ringing with a tiny titter.
“Oh my,” she sounded. “My princess has turned into a housewife.”
“Yeah. That’s me. Just a regular old housewife,” Sylvia deadpanned. The silver-haired girl broke out into a grin. “The food is just about done. How about you tell me about your day, and I’ll tell you about mine?”
-oOo-
Domains of Natural Magic
Just as ki is divided into realms of mastery, natural magic has domains of skill. Unlike ki, where the realms follow in strict sequence, natural magic users often develop their mastery with multiple domains at the same time.
Proficiency in a domain generally provides a minor improvement to the power and focus of associated sorceries. A highly experienced user of natural magic, for instance, might experience a 25% to 35% increase in effectiveness.
Shaping
Shaping is the transformation of the natural magic’s outward expression. This is most obvious with concrete users, such as the yuki onna. A snow witch might learn to create ice in the shape of swords, shields, darts, or even sculptures. Natural magic users with less tangible effects may see shaping in a different light. For instance, the sacred fox will find shaping useful for not only defining the boundaries of their wards, but also when creating complex rules or triggers.
Alteration
Alteration is the domain used to manipulate the character of the natural magic. This allows a greater breadth of effects and expression. The flesh manipulation of a redcap, for example, is intensely violent by nature. By altering this character, it is possible to use this same magic for healing.
Shaping and Alteration are considered the most basic foundations of learning among natural magic users. Given sufficient time, most immortals will grasp these domains without special training.
Mysticism
Mysticism covers the merging of ki and mana. This helps reinforce the magic, increasing its raw power as well as letting the user share a portion of their strength attribute with their magic attribute for purpose of spell casting. Inversely, when using appropriate ki arts, mysticism allows the user to boost their strength with a portion of their magic stat.
Beyond this, mysticism allows an immortal’s magic to combine with their body more easily. Stepping into this domain was necessary for Gavin to use his flesh manipulation to polymorph.
Mysticism can also be achieved through the combination of ki arts and magecraft. Such techniques are known as mystic arts. These can infuse the features of manifestation or enlightenment into magic. Creating a mystic art, however, takes far more practice. Less than 1 in 30,000 mages ever achieve this. By contrast, 7% of all natural magic users touch upon this domain of mastery.
Imbuement
Imbuement involves the study and integration of a concept into a spell. This is similar to the function of manifestation and enlightenment in ki arts. Adding a concept provides a small strengthening to all spells, while also integrating a bonus effect. For this reason, natural magic users who reach this domain are distinctly stronger than those who have not.
Unlike enlightenment, however, this grants no innate ability to touch the intangible. To achieve that, the emancipation domain is required.
Authority
At this point, the natural magic user begins to exert an authority over the world around them. Most directly, this drastically increases the ether ratio allowed for all spells. Additionally, it aids the demon in quickly recovering staves, sources, wells, or palaces they might hold.
However, the greater gain is the ability to command, control, or subvert forces which correspond to the natural magic’s character. With the authority domain, and a bit of mana, a sacred fox could outright commandeer and redirect any laws a mage cast into the world. Though, this would still demand a contest of strength between the two parties. Being aware of those who’ve reached the authority domain is therefore important, unless one wants their powers reversed then thrown back into their own face.
Only 1 in a 100,000 natural magic users reach this level.
Emancipation
Emancipation is an extreme extension to alteration. It consists of freeing natural magic from its inherent constraints. This allows a user to extend the scope of their abilities, covering effects contrary to their magic’s basic character. For instance, a yuki onna could stir up burning winds or even shape the air into blades as though they controlled wind instead of ice.
Much like enlightenment, at this stage a demon’s magic will become more real than reality. Abilities can, therefore: burn, crush, rot, or smash through esoteric effects even when logically this shouldn’t be possible.
Sovereignty
The pinnacle of natural magic, where control over an element or an aspect becomes akin to a providence. To obtain sovereignty, one must first master all six lesser domains. In terms of effect, sovereignty allows the user to control vast forces without expending a single point of mana. However, mana is still needed if this power is to be concentrated to its utmost.
A yuki onna with sovereignty over ice can wrap their castle in perpetual blizzard. A redcap, with a snap of their fingers, could make thousands of weaker opponents explode into gore. Attempting to use magics or powers of the same nature against a sovereign is the height of foolishness. Even without effort, the powers can be reversed.
Reaching this stage is exceptionally rare, though not nearly as difficult as reaching the Truth realm for ki arts. There are around thirty sovereigns in the netherworld. Many of these, however, have a providence from Apotheosis which overlaps with their natural magic. While this is redundant, it does moderately increase the power and range of their sovereignty. Likewise, their sovereignty will reinforce their providence.