The Lone Wanderer

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Takeo Muramasa (Percival's clone)

Mana cores:

• [Mana core 1 – Red – ???]
• [Mana core 2 – Seed – ???]

Spells:

• [Parting Gift – Crude]
• [Quarterstaff – Crude]
• [Glove – Crude]
• [Crystallization – Crude]
• [Mantle of Deceit – Refined]

Decrees:

• [Phoebe’s Decree] – Grants access to your Status.
• [Moirais’ Decree (Incomplete)] – Grants the seed of a second mana core. Requires potent life mana to germinate.
• [Metatron’s Decree] – Open a one-way portal to the Vault of Magic at will.

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As it turned out, his Status was able to recognize Takeo’s grade. It was at Red, which wasn’t exactly great news. Even if Percy could fill it up inside the Vault, it wouldn’t help him much.

‘No new Decree either… Though that’s to be expected. I doubt any gods can emerge in this place.’

There wasn’t really anything of note here. The only silver lining was that his stash of teal mana allowed him to use most of his spells. He still couldn’t use Circulation without his cores, but everything else was on the table, at least until his reserves ran out. If everyone else was incapable of using magic, it would give him a significant advantage over the locals. Of course, he wasn’t sure he’d even need it.

Shrugging, Percy walked along the paved dirt, tracing the way to his host’s house by instinct. The first thing he noticed as he travelled through the small village was that the buildings looked a little strange. They were made of some pale, uniform material which looked nothing like the stone buildings they had in the Alchemists’ Guild, nor the wooden walls in his family’s mansion.

‘They seem surprisingly sturdy too.’

Despite the lack of any engravings or magical materials, the houses appeared in decent condition. At least, he couldn’t spot any signs of age on their simple walls. Evidently, the crafting techniques of the natives extended beyond their steel tools.

Though it wasn’t that odd, considering they didn’t have magic to fall back to. Back on Remior, people used it as a crutch to solve all their problems. Why bother improving the quality of your materials when you could just carve a couple runes on them to compensate for their deficiencies?

‘Let’s figure out how all this works and then leave.’ Percy decided.

Luckily, he didn’t meet anyone on the deserted streets, saving him some time. Apparently, they were all holed up in their homes – evident by the faint shadows he occasionally saw shifting through the windows. Every now and then, he caught a glimpse of a villager, which might have startled him under different circumstances. Their deep crimson skin and bright yellow eyes made them more than a little intimidating. Not to mention their sharp features, or the four fangs each had sticking out of their mouth.

However, Percy wasn’t scared in the slightest. And that wasn’t merely because he could defend himself. Seeing these people through Takeo’s eyes, he realized he could put a name to each face. They were his family – the very people he had grown up with.

‘And now he’s dead.’ he thought, feeling his heart tighten.

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He’d sent plenty of clones, but this was his first time meeting the loved ones of his host. Perhaps he should have prepared himself for this eventuality, though the guilt was hard to stomach. What was he supposed to tell them? Pretend that he was Takeo, only to die in front of them a few days later? Or explain how he had taken over the boy’s corpse? The fact that Takeo appeared to be in his early teens only made the situation more tragic.

Percy stopped right in his tracks, realizing he couldn’t in good conscience return to his host’s house like this. He knew the boy had a father waiting for him there, and neither of them deserved to be put in that situation. Yet, just as he was contemplating whether to open a portal to the Vault right then and there, or leave the body behind and return to Remior, his worst fear came to light.

“Takeo!” a rough voice yelled.

It was only now the young man saw the person he recognized as his host’s father standing some distance away, staring at him intently, his expression a blend of concern and relief.

Percy wanted to turn around and leave, but he never got the chance. The older man sprinted towards him, only stopping once he was a few steps away. Sengo – Percy thought his name was – scanned him up and down, shuddering at the sight of his son’s gruesome injuries.

Tears rolled down Sengo’s face, forming two pink trickles on his cheeks. It was only now that Percy managed to recall another titbit of information from the shattered prism that was Takeo’s mind. Apparently, all the people in this world cried red tears, but Takeo’s clansmen were a little unique in that theirs were a few shades paler. This was the source of the village’s name – Torui.

Seeing the man remain quiet, Percy wanted to speak first. To explain that he wasn’t Takeo. But the words got stuck in his throat. The two just stood there, staring each other in silence for a few minutes, before Sengo pulled Percy into a firm hug, sobbing as he clenched him tightly.

“I told you not to go!” the man said in a stern tone. At least Percy could understand him, as Takeo’s memories breathed meaning to the words.

“Look what happened to you!” Sengo spoke again, gesturing at his son’s wounds.

Though it was only now that Percy registered some of the blood on him wasn’t his own. In fact, it didn’t take much effort to recall where it had come from. Perhaps it was because those memories were more recent, or because they’d had a greater impact on his host. Whatever the reason, he vividly remembered killing over a dozen people, including a scared father protecting his wife and kid.

Percy frowned, suddenly feeling a little less sympathetic for the boy. The brat had been a cold-blooded murderer, ruining a family just like that. But he shook his head a moment later, remembering the situation that had led Takeo to do that.

‘I suppose everyone here is just desperate to survive. The vines will awaken sooner unless they keep sacrificing strangers…’

Probably realizing what Percy was thinking about, Sengo placed a hand on his shoulder, before lifting his chin with the other. He looked him in the eyes as he spoke.

“What’s done is done.” he said sternly. “Sometimes, taking lives and saving them are one and the same.”

The young man nodded, though his guilt had more to do with his charade than his host’s crimes. He knew it was cowardly of him to remain quiet, but he just couldn’t find it in his heart to turn Sengo’s world upside down.

‘Let’s tell him tomorrow. He can sleep soundly one more night, and I can think of the best way to deliver the news…’ was what Percy thought, but he wasn’t sure he believed it.

Following the man to their house, he placed his hand on the pale wall, feeling its rough surface. Digging into his memories, he tried to recall what the material was called. It took a few seconds, but it eventually came through.

‘Concrete.’

“Do you want to help me repair miss Kimiko’s house tomorrow?” Sengo asked as he saw him tracing his finger on the material. “Feeding the jungle isn’t the only way to protect our village you know. We can build strong houses, and arm everyone with weapons to prepare for the feast.”

Percy nodded.

‘Maybe I can stay here until the vines attack. I’ll help these people defend themselves, and maybe even learn a couple things in the process.’

In any case, it wouldn’t be long until the infestation reached its final stage. If his host’s memories could be trusted, they only had days at most. And each feast was more severe than the ones before. The demonic jungle had existed as far as Takeo could remember, having nearly driven the world’s inhabitants to extinction already.

Perhaps the few remaining villages would be gone too in another decade or so. After all, infestations were mindless and vicious. They didn’t care about self-preservation in the slightest. The only thing they knew was destruction – first of their surroundings, and ultimately themselves.

‘I suppose protecting the boy’s people should be enough compensation for the free ride...’

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