Chương 34: 34 loop 1, part 14

The book paused, as if collecting her thoughts. Behind me, I finally noticed my uncle drifting an inch to the left. I hadn't canceled [Move] because I had passed out the second I'd gotten into the room last night. He had been following me through every corridor like a lost little puppy. I flicked my wand and dismissed the spell. He fell to the floor with a dull thud that I immediately felt guilty about. I told myself I'd make him comfortbale later. But for now, I just watched his chest until it moved.

Then, I made myself look away as the Keeper finally continued speaking.

"There is, however, a condition on me teaching you the spell."

"Really? After all the effort I just went through, you want me to put in more work?"

"Yes."

"In exchange for learning a spell."

"Yes." My uncle was lying on the floor, breathing shallowly, and being no help whatsoever.

"Usually, when someone teaches me a new spell, the only condition is that I show up to class."

"I am aware of how instruction typically works. But this is not a classroom." I shook my head.

"So what's the condition?" The book lazily drifted in the air, pages fluttering.

"I want a body," she said. I waited for more, but nothing else came. I looked side to side.

"That's it? That's the only condition?"

"Yes. I want to take a golem vessel. There is a workshop on this floor. I am sure you passed by it." I had, but I hadn't stopped. As much as I'd wanted to. I'd seen the stone workbenches and rows of constructs standing around like they were waiting for someone to give them a job.

"I know the one," I said.

"I saw the mana batteries, too. But everything was empty and unpowered."

"Well, yes. Instead of batteries, the mana would come from me."

"And the reason you need me to get this body for you is because you can't get it yourself," I said.

"Yes," she responded.

"And somehow, the golem body gets you across the threshold and out of this room?" She nodded before adding, "I will also be able to build myself a proper vessel once I have hands again. This golem is but a first step." I glanced at my uncle on the floor. His breathing hadn't changed since we'd returned up here. But I wasn't sure that was a good thing. While the tether between us still pulsed, faint and steady, it was starting to feel less like a reassurance and more like a countdown.

The idea of my own personal golem army was assembling itself in my head. I couldn't fight a dragon or save my uncle alone. But with an army of golems, or even just an ancient intelligence inside of one on my side, well. There was a lot I could do with that. But an annoying voice in the back of my head kept prodding me. It sounded like Finn. Your uncle has been visiting this room for years, and has never once helped her get a golem body. Why do you think that is?

"Fine," I said.

"I understand why you need my help. But I have a quick question. My uncle has been coming down here for a long time. Correct?"

"Years," she replied.

"And in all that time, across all those visits, it never came up? The body thing?" I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the response. The pages turned lazily a few times, as if she were collecting her thoughts.

"It came up." I waited for her to elaborate.

"We discussed it a few times, he and I." I waited again.

"No, truly, he considered it. But he always declined in the end."

"He just declined to give you a body, leaving you trapped in this book."

"Yes."

"Did he ever say why?"

"He said…" She paused precisely in order to mimic my uncle. If she had been a person, I was sure she would have held her fingers in the air quotes pose.

"That some doors were better left closed forever." I laughed, and then I felt bad. I couldn't help it. It was such a Corwen thing to say. The man had more ominous non-answers than I had excuses. And I had a lot of those. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Well. Right. Guess I better start getting to that workshop."

"I've already cleared the path for you." The wall to my left ground open. Before I left, I cast [Wideview], but despite missing [Subtitle] during my talk with Keeper, I had a feeling I couldn't afford the mana. - A few minutes later, I swept into the golem workshop I had floated past earlier. God, running even on air. What had I been thinking? Constructs stood in silent rows between benches, their chest cavities open and empty.

I counted them: nine in the first row, seven in the second, and an uneven number in the third that I refused to finish counting on principle. They were still waiting on mana batteries that no longer had mana, from mages that were long since dead. Dust had settled into every seam, soft and gray. It took a moment to appreciate the amazing craftsmanship.

Each golem looked like someone had wasted hours perfectly putting them together: body armor articulated with Therumia's seal, flanged helmets on rounded heads, there was even a set of golden boots for each one. Somebody had loved these things. But honestly, it looked ridiculous to me. And then I got bored. A lone shelf sat against the far wall, and I found a book resting on it. Golems and You: A Practical Guide to Construct Assembly and Operation. I picked it up and skimmed the first page. I dropped it in shock.

Then, I picked it back up and reread it, because the first page had used the phrase " ideal for the lazy, on-the-go mage," and I needed a moment. The book was speaking to me on a spiritual level. Whoever had written it had looked at the amount of effort required simply to exist in the world and arrived at the obvious conclusion. What if something else did all the work for us? I respected that enormously. I settled onto the nearest bench, which accepted my weight with a companionable groan, and kept reading.

I knew I was short on time, but I had a little bit. Many novice practitioners misunderstand the purpose of a golem. A golem is not a companion, nor a substitute for human judgment. It is labor made obedient. The ideal mage commands with power, and the tool obeys. It was a reasonable line of thinking. I liked the sound of it very much. The animating matrix employed in modern construct design does not require a soul. In fact, golems are currently incapable of true personhood.

Soul Magic simply supplies direction, preference, and the ability to interpret instructions without constant supervision. However, enchanted correctly, golems can cast from their creator's own mana pool. The mechanics made sense, and I was giddy at the possibilities. Enchantment told the golem what to do, and Soul Magic gave it independent action. But it was the combination of both schools that made a golem a golem. I read the next chapter, and my hopes fell.

Activation of a basic humanoid golem construct requires a minimum mana investment of 500 mana, delivered in a single sustained cast. 500 mana. Well, that fucking sucked. I kept reading, hoping there was some way out of the sickening, horrible truth I was slowly realizing, but things just got worse. When I had time, I was going to need to research cheaper spells. Constructs designed for military application require substantially greater reserves of power.

Combat-capable models typically exceed activation thresholds of 1, 000 mana or beyond, and should most definitely not be attempted by journeymen practitioners or lower. 1, 000 mana. I almost laughed. Only an idiot would spend 1, 000 mana on a combat-capable construct when a 500 mana construct existed. I mean, anything a 1, 000 mana construct was capable of could be done with the right enchantments. I was sure of that. I was certain That was the entire point of Enchantment. You didn't build a stronger hammer.

You convinced the existing hammer that it wanted to hit harder, and then made it do that. I was excited at possibly finding a kindred spirit in the writer of this book. But like all authors before me, I was sorely disappointed. The dream of an easier tomorrow crashed down around me. My usable pool was 278, and I needed 222 more. For the basic fucking level. I knew the short term solution. If I meditated, I'd level up, and hopefully I'd get new passives.

I had a feeling I would, since whatever the fuck had happened to me had reset my levels. But this was a job for future me. Not poor, hardworking, overworked, dying current me. I sniffed, closed the book, tucked it under my arm, and glanced around the room. The nearest construct was about my height. The one beside it was slightly shorter, which meant it was the closest thing to compact and probably the easiest to move. Or at least it would require the least amount of mana to move.

The one at the end of the row was another ten feet away, and that disqualified it immediately—despite it being, like, half an inch shorter. So I picked the nearest one. I cast [Move]. The construct rose off the ground smoothly, settling into the air at about waist height.

"Don't get excited," I told it.

"You're not for me. At least, not yet." I turned and walked back toward the study, towing the stone body through the dead queen's library. The construct trailed behind me like a balloon on a very heavy string. Once again, the Keeper cleared the corridor ahead of me before I reached it. Walls that had spent my entire night being obstacles slid open quietly. And then, before I knew it, the corridor turned, and the study door was there. I loved magic.

I floated through, but instructed [Move] to keep the construct outside.

"If I do this, I want you to teach me the spell before the construct enters the room."

"I already agreed to your demands. And it is harder to teach you a spell when I do not have a body. But fine. All you have to do is focus on [Wideview], and circle your wand twice, once for each eye, and then cast the spell [Ambient Eye]." [Ambient Eye — Alteration] Cost: 150 mana. Detach the caster's perspective from their body and project it as a free-roaming sphere of sight. The sphere may travel independently of the caster. Duration: 10 minutes or until dispelled.

With the new knowledge acquired, I was no longer worried she would go back on our deal. I commanded the golem to follow me into the center of the room. The Keeper drifted toward it. She circled the construct slowly, rising along its frame and sinking again. Her pages parting and closing as though she were reading something written into the stone. She lingered longest at the open cavity in its chest.

"Will this work?" I asked as the book continued to hover.

"I believe so."

"You don't sound confident."

"I have been a book for half a century, Lazlo. You will forgive me if my practical experience inhabiting a golem is somewhat limited."

"This will do," she said. It didn't take a genius to realize that she would be able to cast whatever spell she needed to animate the golem. 500 mana was likely nothing to her. But it wasn't my problem for now. I had a tournament to watch and a dragon to look out for. I cast the spell. [Ambient Eye]