Chapter 57: Affectionate Past?
The abyss swallowed the scent of blood.
Wind screamed through the gaps in the iron chains, dragging out a sound like mourning. When Hodell stepped off the end of the long suspension bridge, the world before him seemed to deepen all at once, as if some painted backdrop had finally become real.
A colossal ancient obelisk jutted diagonally from the cliff face like the spine of some dead titan. Its upper half had long since broken away, yet the shattered tip still floated unnaturally in midair, suspended within the violent currents of magical energy.
There were no streetlamps in Shadow Valley.
Its light came from stranger things.
Fluorescent lichen crept through cracks in the rock, giving off a corpse pale glow. Pockets of flame burned of their own accord where the ambient energy was too dense, flickering in treacherous shades of dark violet. Every corner looked half lit, half haunted.
Hodell moved forward alone, his robe stirring in the wind.
"Shadow Valley looks more magical than Oluson," he murmured, sweeping a cold glance toward the darkness on both sides. "Just not any prettier."
Pairs of greedy eyes withdrew almost immediately.
The scavengers and gutter vultures lurking in the ruins had already heard enough rumors to know one thing: the new arrival was not easy prey.
Hodell kept walking.
He needed somewhere quiet, somewhere defensible, somewhere that would not draw attention unless someone was stupid enough to knock on death's door.
Soon, his gaze landed on a half sunken tower embedded in the mountain wall.
"This will do."
The tower was old, far older than anything still standing in Oluson. Time had hollowed it out and worn its exterior into a desolate monument. It had been built from Can Rock, a material that naturally repelled magic. In the current Magic Conducting era, such stone had long been discarded as obsolete, but in a place like this, it was better than any polished defensive formation.
No runes flowed across its surface.
No artificial lights glimmered within.
Only weathered patterns, erosion marks, and long scars left by forgotten years.
Hodell stopped before the tightly sealed stone door and did not bother looking for a lock.
He simply phased through.
Inside, the air was cold and dry. Dust lay thick in the corners, undisturbed for what was likely decades.
He set down the silver case, raised two fingers, and drew out a trace of fire element. The old wood stacked in the fireplace, long since turned brittle as bone, caught immediately. Pale fire rose and wavered, throwing flickering light across his increasingly gaunt face.
He coughed once, low and rough.
The wound on his back had begun to itch beneath the medicine's effect, that maddening sensation halfway between healing and pain. He leaned against a stone bench and closed his eyes for a moment.
"In Shadow Valley, the first rule of survival is to hide."
As far as temporary refuges went, this place was close to ideal.
After a brief rest, Hodell reached into the metal case and took out the strange red sphere he had obtained earlier.
["Biphasic" Conversion Valve, Experimental Model]
[Type: Magic Conducting Mechanical Component]
[Quality: Purple]
[Base Attributes: Structural Integrity 45/45, Energy Conversion Rate 72%, Output Energy Level 240~???]
[Dimensions: 12 cm × 14 cm, Irregular Sphere]
[Weight: 9.3 kg]
[Control Method: Energy Guiding]
[Output Energy: Mixed Energy]
[Operating Cost: 1 point of Structural Strength per use in Manufacturing Mode, 5 points of Structural Strength in Overload Mode]
[Main Modules: Scorched Orichalcum Alloy Skeleton 45%, Cracked Aether Crystal Core 15%, Forced Engagement Gear Set 40%]
[Conversion Modules: Biphasic High Pressure Array, Energy Solidification Force Field]
[Stabilization Module: None]
[Attached Ability: Biphasic Encapsulation, Active. Consumes external energy to create a Composite Energy Core.]
[Attached Ability: Critical Overload, Active. Instantly drives the core to its limit and releases a devastating shockwave.]
[Remark: In the eyes of a genius, the balance of energy is art. In the eyes of a madman, so is collapse.]
Purple grade equipment.
A genuine special item.
A reward from the main storyline.
Hodell turned it slowly in his palm, watching the cracked red crystal at its center pulse like a living heart.
"Let's see what you can really do."
He thought for a moment, then cautiously drew out two elemental streams. Wind first, then fire. Rather than forcing them in, he guided them toward the core the way one might lead two venomous serpents toward the same hole, wary that either might lash out first.
The conversion valve trembled at once.
A hungry, low hum rose from within it.
Then, without warning
Bang!
A violent burst of mixed turbulence blew out through the seams and almost singed his eyebrows off.
Hodell threw up a shield immediately. The sphere dropped from his hand and clattered to the floor, rolling in a tight circle before coming to rest.
When the scattered energy calmed, he bent down, picked it up again, and frowned.
"Failed?"
The panel now showed one point of structural loss.
He rubbed his chin.
"To repair something at this quality, I'd need an actual core technician from the Dark Feather Alliance." He paused. "Which is a bit difficult, considering I'm not about to stroll over and ask politely."
After a moment of silence, he opened his panel and spent eighteen potential points in one breath, maxing out [Gene Expression Theory] and [Ability Characteristic Control].
The change was immediate.
His mind cleared as if some heavy veil had been ripped away. Insights that had previously felt half understood now slotted together with startling ease. The way his two powers interacted, the nature of their internal rhythm, the limits of control and expression, all of it sharpened.
It felt absurdly satisfying.
Hodell stood and activated [Phase Shuttle] experimentally.
The difference was obvious.
Before, phasing had felt like forcing himself against resistance. Now, the motion was far smoother, closer to slicing through a strong headwind than pushing through a wall. Even his unboosted short range shift had increased. Without activating Overload, his clean limit had risen from roughly eight meters to twelve.
"No wonder Phantom moved through walls like that."
He nodded to himself, then returned his attention to the conversion valve.
This time, he did not simply pour in the elements.
He shaped them.
The wind element no longer moved as scattered air currents, but as countless microscopic spirals, rotating in stable layers. The fire element no longer flared like a crude flame, but compressed inward into an intensely dense miniature core of heat.
Under his control, the two energies meshed slowly, elegantly, impossibly, interweaving until their mutual hostility gave way to a dangerous equilibrium.
Only then did he feed them into the valve.
The little sphere shook once, twice, then began vibrating in excitement.
Hodell narrowed his eyes, ready to throw up another shield.
"Please don't explode again."
This time, the vibration gradually subsided.
The conversion valve let out a satisfied hum.
Then it spat something out.
A small, semi transparent orb, roughly the size of a billiard ball, rolled into his palm. Within it, spirals of cyan wind and threads of crimson fire coiled together in unstable harmony, like two predators trapped inside crystal.
Another point of durability vanished from the valve.
Hodell ignored that for the moment and studied the new item.
[Composite Energy Core, Wind and Fire]
[State: Unstable Equilibrium. Releases elemental effects upon trigger.]
It was heavier than it looked, and even through the barrier of the casing he could feel the energy inside, compressed so tightly it gave off a heart palpitating heat.
"There's definitely a time limit," he murmured. "But it should hold for at least two days."
He had just started considering whether to store it or go test it immediately when his body went still.
His gaze turned toward the tower wall.
There were people outside.
His eyes cooled at once.
"Well then. You can be the test subjects."
Outside the tower, the air had gone taut.
Several figures from the Crow Cult were hidden among the ruins.
They had heard the same rumor everyone else in Shadow Valley had heard. A mysterious expert had appeared, killed the Robbery Gang of Seven, and walked away carrying a silver case. More importantly, he seemed to be badly injured, and he had not even taken the spoils from the corpses.
That meant one of two things.
Either he had been too hurt to bother.
Or he was strong enough not to care.
The first possibility meant easy profit.
The second meant great danger, but even greater profit.
"Boss," whispered a black robed scout crouching behind a stone pillar, clutching a low grade detection tool. "The Can Rock is too thick. I can't get a clear life reading. But that energy spike just now was real."
The leader, a broad shouldered brute with old scars on his neck, looked toward a woman nearby.
"Rui. Can you see him?"
The woman narrowed her eyes. A faint red thermal sheen spread across her pupils.
"I've got him. Inside the tower. Heartbeat is slow. Respiration weak. Heavy injury signs confirmed."
Her [Thermal Capture] was excellent for precisely this kind of ambush. In her vision, Hodell was just a glowing heat signature behind dead stone. Nowhere to hide.
The leader grinned.
"Old Third, use your trick. Turn that tower into his coffin. The rest of you, get your spells ready. If something goes wrong, bury him anyway."
A burly Esper stepped forward and pressed both hands to the tower wall. His ability, [Kinetic Energy Conduction], specialized in transmitting violent oscillation through solid structures. Many targets had hidden in fortresses, only to die with their organs pulped inside intact walls.
Inside, Hodell had already sensed everything.
He said nothing.
His body slipped directly through the wall and entered the tower's exhaust shaft.
The small composite core in his hand pulsed once.
That was enough.
The moment [Kinetic Energy Conduction] tried to lock down the shaft, the internal structure of the core detonated into action.
Wind screamed through the narrow channel at extreme speed. The shaft became a forced compression chamber. The ordinary flames lingering in the fireplace were ripped apart, churned, condensed, and driven into a savage high pressure stream. Under enough oxygen and enough velocity, crimson flame abruptly transformed into brilliant blue white combustion.
Then it erupted outward.
Boom!
A burning storm blasted out of the tower like a dragon's breath.
The Esper maintaining the vibration field did not even have time to react. The accelerated inferno raced backward along the very path of his transmitted force and punched through both of his arms in an instant.
His scream lasted less than a second.
The expanding storm swallowed the entire Crow Cult group in a radius of nearly twenty meters, leaving behind only streaking fire, shattered stone, and the smell of scorched flesh.
Hodell felt several life signs collapse at once.
His eyes lit up.
"Ridiculous. This thing is absurd."
With combat performance like that, it was practically cheating.
His figure passed back through the stone wall and appeared atop the blackened slope outside. He calmly moved among the survivors, finishing them one by one before anyone could crawl away.
[You have gained 10 Trial Points.]
[Battle ended. Based on the numerical difference between enemy and ally, you have gained an additional 20 Trial Points.]
[[Limit Trial]: Current Progress 540/1500]
[You killed the Crow Cult action group, gaining 32,000 EXP.]
Hodell looked at the charred corpses and laughed under his breath.
"These people really thought fighting the Robbery Gang of Seven left me crippled?"
He shook his head.
Both sides had misjudged the other badly.
As he searched the bodies, he discovered two more useful ability samples. He crouched, took out two sealed jars containing pale blue gelatin medium, sliced clean pieces of tissue from the corpses, and absorbed them into storage.
"I may never use them," he said lightly, "but that doesn't mean I'm leaving them behind."
Three days passed.
By then, the wounds across his body had mostly sealed. The deep ache in his organs had faded into a dull itch beneath the relentless effects of high grade potions. His combat strength was, if not fully restored, at least stable enough for him to move openly again.
So he left the tower.
Before stepping out, he took out a face mask. With a low hum, it bonded to his skin. Light warped across its surface in mottled fragments before settling into the features of an ordinary middle aged man.
Nothing striking.
Nothing memorable.
He pushed open the stone door and entered the night streets of Shadow Valley.
The streets here had no names, only layers of pipes, leaking runoff, and green alchemical sludge dripping endlessly from old metal seams. Above, violet flames burned and flickered, illuminating cloaked contraband dealers, prosthetic leg wanderers, and hard eyed groups of killers who pretended not to watch one another.
Hodell stopped outside an open air tavern.
It had no walls, only a rough counter built from stacked stone blocks and a few elevated platforms for drunks, gamblers, and liars with loud voices.
He ordered the cheapest ale available and leaned in the shadows beside a pillar, letting the local chatter wash over him.
"Did you hear? East side, that abandoned tower. The Crow Cult boss and his whole crew got wiped out."
A one eyed mercenary, already flushed red from drink, lowered his voice in malicious delight.
"Not even corpses left behind. Heard they ran into some escaped monster."
"In Shadow Valley?" another snorted, shaking a chipped sword. "Monsters pop up every other week. More likely it's some expert hiding from enemies."
Hodell took a sip of the terrible ale without expression.
Then someone in the corner cut in.
"Expert? No matter how strong, stronger than Ryan?"
The speaker was a black market merchant in a filthy cloak. His voice carried open mockery.
"That guy was supposed to be the Empire's once in ten thousand years space system genius, special investigator, rising star, all that nonsense. And what happened? Not even a scrap left. In the end, wasn't he just another scapegoat tossed out by those old bastards upstairs?"
At the mention of the name, the atmosphere shifted subtly.
In official circles, Ryan had become a hero.
Here, he was entertainment.
"A genius?" the one eyed mercenary spat. "Geniuses die fastest. Had to play hero, didn't he? Ran himself straight into the grave. For what? Fame?"
Laughter rose around the tavern.
Then a woman's voice rang out from the small platform.
"Everyone, everyone, quiet down!"
A woman in a blazing red slit dress clapped both hands together. Her makeup was exquisite in a gaudy sort of way, and the sorrow painted into the corners of her eyes was just convincing enough to fool the drunk and the stupid.
In her hands was a stack of yellowed parchment carrying a faint fragrance. The seal stamped across it was meant to resemble something from Liuli Cloud Dream Academy.
It was, unfortunately, fake enough that even Hodell could tell at a glance.
"I know you all like mocking the big shots," she announced dramatically, "but what if I told you I possess the Space Warp Manuscript personally written by Ryan during his academy days?"
The tavern quieted.
Mockery toward Ryan was one thing.
Coveting his power was another.
His title as a space system prodigy had been certified by the Empire itself. Even a fragment of his notes could fetch an outrageous price in a place like this.
Hodell stared at the parchment, genuinely baffled.
Space Warp Manuscript?
Since when did he have one of those?
"Quit talking nonsense, Sister Rin," someone shouted. "Where would you get that?"
Sister Rin dabbed at the corner of her eye and sighed in a way so melodramatic it nearly made Hodell choke on his drink.
"That," she said softly, "is a painful story. Back when Ryan was still a student at Liuli Cloud Dream Academy in the Imperial Capital, I was doing a little business near the entertainment district. We met by chance, and from then on we spent countless nights talking until dawn"
Hodell nearly coughed for real this time.
"Before he died," she continued, voice trembling, "he sent word to me. He said what he owed me in this life, he could only repay in the next. This manuscript is the only thing he left behind. If not for survival, I would never part with it. Boo hoo"
That was enough to set off a whole new wave of speculation.
Sister Rin had indeed floated through the pleasure quarters of the Imperial Capital once or twice. Heroes were fond of beauties. Beauties were fond of money. The lie was crude, but in the hands of desperate people, crude was often sufficient.
More than one pair of eyes turned feverish.
Hodell finished the last of his ale, placed the cup down, and rose like any ordinary passerby preparing to leave.
As he passed below the platform, he casually flicked his fingertip.
A spark no bigger than a grain of sand landed on the edge of the parchment.
Whoosh!
The entire so called priceless manuscript erupted in violent green flame like oil soaked tinder.
"Ah!"
Sister Rin shrieked and let go. The fake treasure flared into stinking black ash almost instantly, drifting through the air like burnt insect wings.
"What the hell?!"
"What happened?!"
The tavern exploded into confusion.
Sister Rin's face went deathly pale as she tried to salvage the situation.
"Don't panic! This is this is"
Hodell had already reached the doorway.
Without turning around, he said calmly, "Old parchment soaked in Green Rot Grass can be made to look ancient, but it's terrified of open flame. It burns on contact and gives off toxic smoke."
Then he paused just long enough to add, "And rumor says Ryan was a neat freak. Would he really write on trash like that?"
Silence.
Complete, brutal silence.
Sister Rin froze where she stood. Around her, the mercenaries and lowlifes who had just moments earlier been practically drooling over the manuscript now stared at her with growing hostility.
Meanwhile, the unremarkable middle aged man who had ruined the show had already melted into the night outside, disappearing into the maze of Shadow Valley without leaving so much as a trailing hem behind.
.....
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