Chương 133: AF Chapter 132 – The Proper Tools for the Job

"Oh?" I asked. Isparian Magic had no Summoning Magic that I knew of, or Devra would certainly have researched it enthusiastically. The catastrophe that had resulted in her demise was basically Summoning in something powerful to give her benefits, after all.

"Aye. It were some hideously powerful stuff, like taking the best o' melee and magic and blending it together." Lord Mick shuddered in exaggerated revulsion.

"Summoning Magic were the death knell o' us melee types. As long as the mages had the Summons resources, they had no need o' us. Their Summons could kill stuff faster than we could, an' nobody cared if they were injured or died." I furrowed my brow.

"That is… certainly different than the Summoning Magic that I know of," I said carefully.

"The individual Summons are generally far less effective than those warriors equal to the Caster, although numbers can make up for it. They are more for meat shields and versatility of abilities than for fighting straight up?"

"Mmm, ye're going to make all the former Summoners cry, lass," the Mick said with a huge smile.

"The way they worked afore is basically they were walking spells. They did damage like spells do, an' they struck against magic defense, ignorin' armor an' the like. So they'd attack faster than mere spellcastin', do the same damage, an' jump from one enemy t' the next, all without the Summoner doing any work. Ye couldn't get them to do anything but fight… but that were enough.

"Summoners rampaged across Dereth forthwith, soons as it were discovered an' the benefits were known. Nobody in their right mind stayed a pure Melee after that."

"Well, it's a good thing that Black Aluvians are widely judged to be insane then, I guess? What has the art become?"

"It degraded so hard almost nobody touches it. Ye can basically Call up some Elementals t' help ye out, if ye dare." I arched an eyebrow at his continued amusement.

"Aye, dare. It turns out the Elementals dinna like being called an' bossed around by mortals, an' there's chances they'll break away an' attack ye. It's hard ta order them about, they got no head fer tactics, an', well, they just aren't that powerful compared to the magic afore, although they do stick around longer."

"Huh." I considered that.

"And limits per day by size and element?" I asked carefully. It was his turn to be intrigued.

"Aye, that were the other major downgrade. Ye cannae Summon a whole army o' the things. The second one ye Summon of the same type is automatically out o' control an' hostile to ye fer having the temerity ta bring it in!" he declared in great satisfaction.

"Arcane Magic is not friendly to most Summoned creatures, being neutral at best, and downright revolting at worst. Binding Elementals to serve you is basically slavery, and since you're calling them right into a combat situation, effectively torture as well, while the Arcane magic gives them no choice but to obey, unless they can throw it off," I told him calmly.

I continued, "Summoning Magic is considered, in the end, the most powerful school of magic, because anything that has lived or died or exists beyond the world is potentially open to you. Necromancy is limited to the dead, generally whose bodies you still have, and many souls are beyond their reach. Enchanting people to mental enslavement is generally restricted to the living.

"Thus, Summoning magic tends to come with built-in dangers, and they escalate in threat level to the Caster very quickly." Like, oh, getting your soul eaten when you overstep yourself.

"The Tradition I espouse treats Summoning Magic very gently, and generally with great respect for those we Call in. Those who use and abuse Summoning Magic casually are often called 'slavemages' to their faces. They like to laugh it off and talk about how powerful and versatile their abilities are, but in general they are reviled for what they are and do.

"Respected Summoners are more like battlefield generals with a great number of good friends they can call on to help them out with important deeds and feats, and their Summons support them enthusiastically. Alas, it takes a great deal of time, patience, charm, understanding, and diplomacy to get to that stage, and most Summoners are just about giving orders to minions, getting strong on the backs of others, and not being reliant on having unreliable people around to do it, like Enchanters do."

"Enchanters, the power to control the minds of others…" The Mick shook his head slowly at the thought.

"I were on the edge o' stuff that hit the mind, ground against the soul, tried t' weigh down on me. But nae straight attacks against the mind, as in a fight, just illusions in the end. The Virindi are fair at the tactic, given how mind-bending some o' their bases are."

"As might be expected of an extraplanar hivemind collective," I nodded to him.

"One of the things you need to do with exposure to new kinds of magic is build your defenses against it. That's all about what the Forsaken do, take that kind of magic and neutralize it." I indicated Princess Kristie, standing there listening silently.

"A Null can learn to ignore most forms of illusion, magic cannot retain a grip on their minds, they can shut down magical flight, Interdict dimensional movement, and with one swing dispel Buffs, send Summoned creatures back whence they came, or cleave through freestanding spells." The Mick shot her a startled, respectful gaze.

"That be… very dangerous to Casters," he pointed out carefully, and respectfully. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

"It's a very strong incentive for Casters to be reliant on more than magic, and/or for them to get very, very good at spellcasting, so their spells aren't so easy to cleave," Princess Kristie said shortly, reaching out to lay her hand on my shoulder.

"It also means we are very good friends and bodyguards for Casters who trust us and don't fear us. A Caster like you, who uses magic as a secondary role, is in much less danger from one of us than a standard War Mage. We bring them crashing down to fight at our level, and many mages simply cannot hang down here in the mundane bloodletting."

"Aye, that be so, so true," he agreed with some satisfaction.

"I be noting the system weren't kind t' mixing the two, either. Proper magery took a lot o' investment, an' given all the hoops ye had to jump through fer melee skills, ye'd be moderately effective at best tryin' t' do both."

"It's the nature of an artificial, closed system. You have to optimize along specific lines or you just suck. An open system, you'd just grow into the new direction that is required. The Isparian System-""Empyrean System, Highness." Kris arched an eyebrow as the Mick interrupted her.

"We didnae make the system, that were plenty obvious. It were passed off to us as second-hand goods, a tool ta make us useful for when an' where they decided ta call on us. On Ispar, it might be something different. Here, it be the Empyrean System." Kris looked at me, I looked back, and shook my head.

"Lord Mick, we call it the Isparian System because it was designed for beings like you and I. The Empyrean System… is the one the powerful Empyreans obviously use." He considered that, then nodded, a dark gleam in his eyes.

"Aye, then. Makes sense."

"The Isparian System is a closed system. It's designed to get a person to a specific point of power, and no further. It doesn't really allow for growth outside that target point, and could even be said to forcibly restrict you within it," Kris resumed her point. She continued, "It definitely has its uses and flexibility, but overall, it should just be abused and then mostly forgotten.

It's designed to rapidly make killing machines usable in war, not to make individuals who can meaningfully contribute to society over a long period of time in peace and in war."

"On that, we definitely be agreeing.

'tweren't nothing in the System for me t' be useful outside o' killin', 'cept maybe instructing the next group o' killers in doin' the same as I did." The Mick's dark eyes were moody.

"What t' do with us outside o' fightin', which we were so damn good at, an' then in civilian life, where we were barely at average, an' weren't no System there t' get better at it all…"

"Won't be a problem with the Matrix System. You may not want to grind as you did in the old days, but it's still totally possible, and the sky is literally the limit." She pulled out Quaver, which hummed its two notes of death, and force-swirls of Lost Light gathered about what looked like a flat sphere at the tip of it.

"You all go back and have a good rest while I test myself on these things, see what I'm up against. Rest assured I'll retreat if I have problems. They can't kill me that fast." Actually, they probably couldn't kill her at all, since she had Regeneration and I doubted they had Holy Silver. If she had Die Harder, she could be walking around at -80 Health looking deader than dead and still be motile, too. But nobody had to know what an unkillable killing machine she was.

They could find that out when they tried to kill her.

With three Levels in Archwizard, my Memorized Spells had fully doubled. It meant I had far more variety of options to call on than I'd had three days ago, since Arcane Theurge Levels meant I could pay for them with Sorcerer Spell Slots as needed, and said Spell Slots could be re-energized from the Empyrean Mana Pool, as well. I did not know how long the Mana Boost system or the accelerated Mana Renewal compared to Ispar would remain active and viable.

They gave mages here an incredible amount of magical reserves, whose primary use was naturally fighting whoever they were pointed at. I was of the opinion that if we started breaking the ley line configurations, we'd lose the extra magic, and have to be much, much more careful about regaining and spending magical power. As long as our opponents had the same problem, it wasn't an issue, and we would be ahead of the curve. Come the dawn, I'd be taking my first Archsorcerer Level, doubling my Valence I Spell Slots.

That would also be an upping of my staying power, even if it didn't double my bonus Slots. We'd be heading into Avallelle Island, the 'fighting island'. Being able to survive fights on this island was what qualified you to leave the Vesayans as a Scout or other warrior, and maybe to dare the challenges on Ithaenc itself, where the higher-Level people went to play. The Scouts were all zoning out with me on guard, working and yet aware of anything approaching them or the Wagon.

I'd made another stopping area for them to rest and gather in, and the cool jungle night was doing what it was meant to do, keeping the bugs low, gathering in fog, and hinting at dangers in the night that might or might not be there ready to threaten us. Oh, they were there. Just not threatening us, at least close by. I let them rest.

They were going to have another enthusiastically constructive day tomorrow, as they took their actual first Levels in Scout, and were going to be practicing group combat on the groups of spawns on the island.

Avallelle wasn't settled much because of the constant Phyntos flights coming in from the north making it very unsuitable to raise children on, in addition to the random stuff manifesting, but people cycled in via teams to work the plantations, orchards, and farms for a fortnight before rotating back to their families on safer islands, like Freehold.

The system seemed to work and make good use of the ground, giving the archers who rooted out the hives plenty of places to fall back to in between their scourging of the damn pests. I did find myself glancing out into the night and fog several times, and not because of pests. It seemed like the magic was… humming at me? I didn't know what it portended, but it seemed to be anticipating my coming.