Chapter 220: Ch184-While It Lasted(1/2)

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Ch184-While It Lasted

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In a lot of ways, Ria, the liquid metal golem, was essentially an undead.

Not a naturally born undead, and certainly not a feral or wild one, but more in the sense that once she was given a task, she wordlessly chipped away at it until it was done. 

Currently, she was inside a hollowed-out wooden staff, and the three bones she was using to practice magic were embedded into the very end of it, in the shape of a claw. The one she was using right now was the 31st, and what little remained of the initial 30 was laying around in a box off in the corner.

After roughly a day of practice, she figured out how to make her staff levitate, and was now in the process of making it stay still, and not tip over. Sylver sectioned off a large circle for her to practice inside, and placed a large mana crystal right outside of it so Ria could top up the bones’ mana reserves whenever they ran out. 

The workshop itself was isolated in terms of mana, nothing went out, and more importantly, nothing went in. The mana that was leaking from the leyline downstairs was funneled into a specific room that Sylver would use to store corpses to saturate with mana, and whatever the room couldn’t hold was allowed to go up through the rock and dirt, to help the garden grow.

Not that it needed much help, Lao the rabbit gardener practically tended to every single leaf by hand, not to mention the would-be intruders made for excellent fertilizer. 

Despite possessing human bodies, literally, in this case, Misha and Masha were still perfect guards. They were unkillable, and within the confines of the mansion, just short of all-powerful.

More so, since Lola had provided them with several sets of enchanted armor, that they turned into undefeatable living armor. The fact that the mansion was still technically speaking a hunting ground, with rules similar to a dungeon, meant that initially a very large number of people attempted to pillage the place where only small rabbits and two little girls lived.

It didn’t end well for them.

And after a point, everyone either wised up, or Arda ran out of idiots.

Shit like this was exactly why Sylver always preferred having his base of operation hidden far far away from prying eyes, and greedy hands. But, he had to admit, there were some positives in living in the middle of one of Eira’s biggest trading centers.

For one, Sylver had access to a massive sample of plants, herbs, trees, flowers, vines, and while the last one took a while to find, fungus.

The vast majority of rare fungi were kept in a dehydrated, or powdered form, which Sylver’s [Seed Store] had an issue with. But because the rabbits could visit more traders in a day than Sylver could in a month, by the time Ria figured out how to keep her staff level, Sylver already had a mushroom garden growing out of one of the corpses Misha and Masha had saved for him.

Ging in particular was well known among the various traders. After the destruction caused by the monster outbreak, Lola had bought up a ton of land and “sold” some to Sylver. 

The land was used to build homes, offices, workshops, and if the ledgers in Sylver’s/Ging’s office were to be believed, had turned a profit that pushed Sylver’s net worth a little bit above 1.18 billion gold.

The valuation was theoretical, in terms of physical gold Sylver had less than 100,000 to his name, the rest was either in the adventurer’s guild or “invested” into Lola’s company.

Not that Sylver cared, in fact, no one cared. 

The people that were likely to kick up a fuss over a random no-name adventurer acquiring such a large amount of money and land, were either bribed, threatened, or “handled.”

Marshal’s family also came to Arda and tried to throw their weight around, and were “handled,” by two women who had earned enough from Sylver’s assassination contracts that they both ended up retiring. Lola said they run a tailor together, but that they aren’t very good at it yet.

Marshal was the man who tried to have Sylver arrested and sent to a labor camp, and Sylver had apparently hired an assassin to fake his suicide. According to Spring and Lola, that is, Sylver genuinely had no idea what they were talking about.

Lola’s grasp over the city wasn’t perfect, the magic that sustained the guards was very very specific, and while there were ways to bend what rules they followed, there were several that couldn’t be fully broken. 

For example, Sylver couldn’t just decapitate someone in the street and walk away, if a guard saw him attack first, he would be arrested and then executed.

But Sylver could have all the guards look away, and then claim self-defense. Given his nonexistent criminal record, the guards would be required to take his word for it, assuming there were no witnesses around to go against him. 

If there were and it turned into a “he said, she said” situation, the person claiming they saw something would either be talked to or if that didn’t work, they would mysteriously disappear. 

It wasn’t the most elegant way of conquering a city, but if it worked, it worked. Between the cats, the Cord, and Lola’s own resources, the only people Sylver had to fear were all on extremely good terms with a certain noble that had allegedly already stepped in multiple times to protect his unnaturally pale friend.

Sylver sighed as he threw up a simple shield to contain the explosion, and was further disappointed that his failure wasn’t even powerful enough to explode. It just liquefied into mushroom soup, and immediately began to smell like rotten cabbage.

Fairy rings seemed to require a bit more than a circle of mushrooms and an overconfident can-do attitude. One thing that Sylver knew for certain is that if he wanted to connect one fairy ring to another, they needed to be connected through the earth.

As to whether distance was a factor…

Sylver couldn’t say. 

Through trial and error, a lot of error, he discovered a framework that sort of worked but was unstable. Having said that, it was consistently unstable, the mana fluctuated in a very clear pattern, which made everything all the stranger.

Frankly speaking, there was a part of Sylver that considered this a waste of time. This wasn’t his field of expertise, he wasn’t even all that great at spatial magic, let alone such a niche subset of spatial magic.

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Not to mention he wasn’t just using plant magic, but fungi. Mushrooms, Sylver was trying to cast spatial magic using mushrooms.

As Sylver leaned backward and lay down on the rocky soil and started to laugh, Ria took this as a sign that he wasn’t busy.

“Where do sigils come from?” Ria asked. 

Sylver just lay in the dirt for a second or two.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Where do sigils come from? Why is it that one sigil does one thing, and another does another? I thought they were something like instructions in another language, but why are two sigils that do essentially the same thing so vastly different,” Ria asked.

Sylver actually struggled to find the right words to use to explain it.

“You’re somewhat correct in saying they are instructions in a different language. But there’s a bit more to them than just that. With sigils specifically, they are maintained by true immortals. With elves it’s “the spirit of nature”, and with dwarves, I don’t remember. Probably the heart of the mountain, or something along those lines,” Sylver explained.

“I’m even more confused,” Ria said.

“Here’s how it works… Let’s say I decide that the sigil for compressing gas into liquid is X. Another person decides that the sigil for compressing gas into liquid is Y. What happens is that the two of us will fight, and whoever wins, is whose interpretation will become reality. That’s the simple explanation,” Sylver said.

“So sigils mean what they mean because people in the past decided that that’s what they mean?” Ria asked.

“Sort of. If hypothetically, someone was capable of killing a true immortal, every single sigil that was being maintained by that true immortal would cease meaning what it meant and would stop working. I say that, but the current system of sigils is so widespread and widely accepted that the responsibility of maintaining them would simply jump onto the head of the next most powerful mage, no one would probably even notice,” Sylver said.

“What happens if the true immortal’s definition or interpretation of what a specific sigil does changes?” Ria asked.

Sylver made a motion with his hand and gestured towards the ground.

“With the base, or 1st generation sigils, nothing. They are so deeply ingrained into our realm that just about any immortal past a certain age is aware of them, and the responsibility of maintenance will be passed onto them,” Sylver made a gesture towards the ceiling. “Anything above 9th generation sigils. Those will be gone, I’ll go as far as to say that I’ve personally experienced certain sigils losing their meaning,” Sylver explained.

“What do you mean base sigils? And what do you mean by responsibility?” Ria asked.

“You’ll probably notice it in a couple of months, but most of the sigils you use are just combinations of other sigils. The way you can use prime factorization to break up a large number into sets of prime numbers, you can do the same for sigils. The ones that you can’t are called base sigils,” Sylver explained. 

Ria nodded along.

“Alright, but what do you mean by responsibility?” Ria asked.

“Responsibility is the word they use, but I guess a more proper term would be ownership? Source? I mentioned ascended mages find loopholes in their field of magic, right?” Sylver asked.

“Sure.”

“When such a loophole is found, the mage has the option of “forging” it into a sigil. Once they do that, the sigil is “theirs,” in a certain sense of the word. In the Ibis, you need to have forged at least 3 sigils before you’re allowed to become an arch-mage,” Sylver said.

“So anyone can forge a sigil?” Ria asked.

An odd smile spread on Sylver’s face.

“In theory, yes. In practice, outside of the Ibis, a mage is considered a genius among geniuses if they are able to forge 1 sigil in their lifetime. It isn’t enough to simply understand your field of magic, you have to be the best, of the best, of the best, of the best,” Sylver explained, and his face went blank as he realized what Ria’s next question was going to be.

“What does forging a sigil do?” Ria asked.

“It uh… For the most part, it’s just a matter of pride. It’s proof that you’re the best at what you do,” Sylver said.

“But is there any benefit in making one? It sounds like it takes a lot of effort, and you already know the loophole, since you’re the one who discovered it,” Ria asked.

Sylver looked away from her and tried to figure out a way of putting it into terms she would understand.

“It’s easier to teach it to your apprentices, and immunity, in a very specific sense of the word. My master has forged 129 sigils, and if one of my spells contains one of her sigils, it won’t work on her. Same for me, if someone were to cast a spell using one of the 11 sigils I forged, it won’t work.

“There’s another benefit, but you would need to know a lot of magical theory to understand it. And more honestly, it would be… disrespectful, to discuss it with someone who hasn’t at the very least ascended,” Sylver explained.

Ria just stared at him, as if she was waiting for him to buckle under her gaze.

“This is very serious Ria, I can’t tell you,” Sylver added.

Thankfully Ria knew when there was wiggle room, and when to trust that Sylver had a reason for keeping such a secret from her.

“Alright,” Ria said.

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