Magic Breaker [Enby MC Anti-Mage LitRPG]

I open my eyes much, much later. 

Everything hurts. My insides feel like a slurry. The thing crawling through them has made a mess of things. My head hurts. There’s dried blood under my nose, under my eyes, even leaking from my ears and mouth. The world is blurry, it smells and tastes of iron and stale dust.

Four points. I spend one more on heart. The other three go into vessel. 

Blearily, I call up my Status. 

Lv. 5

Heart: 9

Power: 2

Vessel: 12

My heart went up by one naturally. The ground around me is littered with slowly decaying pieces of metal. Almost like a small barricade around me. Slowly, I sit up, my mouth dry, activating [Suppression] on the little parasite again.

It struggles far more, but that’s fine. I just smack my will into it. Again, and again, until it turns placid. My nose starts bleeding again, but I just wipe the tiny scarlet drizzle away, smearing it into my hoodie. I will have to mourn the piece of clothing later. 

Some more time passes as I take the bottle from my backpack, downing some water. It tastes metallic, probably from all the blood in my mouth. Everything aches, I’m sore all over, but that’s fine.

Despite it all, I slowly rise, my expression… placid. I’ve glimpsed it. Just at the very edge of my awareness, ever so distantly. And I’ve been glimpsed in return.

[You have caught the Eye of the Master of Suffering.]

That’s fine, too. If they want to look at me, they are free to. Not like I can do anything about it.

Yet.

Thatch notices me first. I smile. He’s so attentive. “Snow!” he calls. 

“That’s me,” I confirm.

“You were out for hours,” Inu says. “Two and a half, just about.”

I nod, slowly. That seemed about right. “How are things?”

Bay looks at me, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed. “Quiet. We took down armors way deeper in. We’re all level eight, now.” She flashed me a smile. “You’re lagging behind.”

At that, my heart beats faster. I smile. “I’ll catch up.”

“Good. Inu is just about ready. We were considering carrying you deeper if you didn’t wake up,” Norman supplies helpfully.

For a moment, I imagine him touching me and shiver at the thought. I’m lucky I woke up in time.

My head still throbs, but I get up on my feet. It’s hard to walk, and I lean on the wall with my left hand, smearing blood all over it and dirtying what remains of the cut I did to it. Surprisingly, my resources are fine. My mana is full again, other than the bit I used on the parasite.

So, without hesitation, I try to heal my hand again. To twist my mana into that spiralling, beautiful, horrible pattern that makes my head hurt to even think about.

What I make is a pale shadow. A twisted, half-aborted version of [Suppression], with flourishes and twists to mimic the thing I saw even remotely. Instead of a radiant tapestry of stars and strings, a firmament in the sky, what I make is like a child’s crayon drawing. Even worse, really.

It’s barely recognizable, barely passable, not even enough for it to recognize the skill. But. My hand, just faintly, itches. Just ever so slightly, my wound scabs over. It’s not miraculous. It takes time, the cast is difficult, and makes my head ache. But it definitely healed just a bit, I’m sure.

I take a deep breath, and keep the smile off my face. My butchered healing spell, despite all its flaws, is rather pretty, too. I face the empty corridors. “Let’s go then.” And with that, we walk forward.

As we journey deeper into the castle, as the fear around us becomes palpable, creeps up my spine and makes my hair stand on end, I practice. Over and over again, I twist my mana. Over and over and over again. 

- - -

Taking down armors is almost routine. One crashes into Inu. She stops it, we slam it to the ground, debuff, then Bay uses [Deactivate] to partially disassemble them. Whoever needs kills the most does the rest.

With that strategy, we slowly make our way to the castle.

[You have killed a lv. 7 Dreadarmor]

[You have killed…]

[You have killed…]

Notifications come in with every time that I push a grain of mana into their visor, with every time I make it come apart and eradicate the miasma. I’ve gotten better at it, too, packing more mana into each grain. 

[Solidification 1 > 2]

[Level Up! 5 > 7]

I gain two more levels. One point goes to heart, five to vessel. And then, we are in front of a big door. 

It’s enormous. Made from dark wood, the lacquer on it flaking. It feels like a boss room. I give my nails a glance, and decide they need repainting soon. 

A tiny part of me is scared of what might be behind the door. I feel my heart thumping, the way adrenalin floods through me. The way I know I might die. I embrace that. 

The enemies in the castle were all under level ten. This is the room underneath the central spire, the watchtower we’re aiming to climb to find Opal and Sylves. I’m sure there will be trouble. I’m certain. 

But that’s okay. We’ll prevail. I’m sure we will.

Inu and Thatch nod at me. Norman looks to the floor, but Jess gives me a reassuring smile, and Bay a thumbs up. I take a deep breath and push open the door.

Darkness.

Miasma floods out. It’s like the lights were switched off. The smell of rust is overwhelming and disgusting. The dark fog brushes against us like a palpable wave of fear. I can hear Norman taking a step back, can feel the way Jess shivers. 

Thatch taps into [Rage]. Inu [Resists]. I [Suppress] it. We’ll prevail.

I take a step into the chamber. My eyes adjust slowly. In the very middle of it, there is a throne. Upon it, there is an empty suit of armor.

It’s regal, adorned with gold and red, and a plume of crimson waves from its helmet-crown. 

[Dreadking lv. 15]

And, in front of it, there is a human. Two humans. 

There is a girl in a wheelchair, her brown hair braided like a wreath around her head. She wears a light summer dress in pink and white, and there’s a playful glint in her golden eyes as she looks at the king.

But my eyes don’t stick on her. Instead, I focus on the person next to the girl. They’re tall. Dark skin, dreadlocks tied together behind their head, a scruffy goatee on their chin, wearing an open trenchcoat that they’ve lent to me before. Their eyes have a reddish hue, and there is a fierce grin on their face.

Opal points a greatsword at the king. It’s almost as long as they are tall, but looks like it weighs as much as a feather in their hands. If the challenge wasn’t clear enough yet, they speak. “Come the fuck at me!!” they scream to the king, their voice energetic and steady.

The armor moves, but I don’t care in the slightest. “Opal!” I call, and they turn to me.

All of the fierceness in their eyes evaporates. “Snow!” they pause, then brighten even more. “Inu, Thatch!”

Then, the king rises. It happens in the blink of an eye, its sword slamming down where Opal had just stood, but his body was jerked out the way. Ethereal strings wrapped around their joints by the girl in the wheelchair. 

“I would recommend you don’t get distracted too much,” she says, her voice regal.

“Hahaha! Right, right. My bad.” They smile brightly, then look to me again. “Snow! Let’s kill it!”

Smiling back, I nod. “Alright,” I say. I’ve found Opal. Now, all I need to do is keep them safe.