Magic Breaker [Enby MC Anti-Mage LitRPG]

PoV: Thatch Bream - Hush

I breathe, holding Snow’s sleeping body in my arms. Hanging there limply, my friend looks so fragile, and yet, so peaceful. Their usually expressionless face looks calm, almost peaceful.

Unlike me.

Right now, there is no one watching, and with the cold, I let the fire [Rage] inside me.

The sleet falls from the storm, touching my skin, and trying to invade me with ice. But it doesn’t stand a chance. Right now, nothing in this damn place does. Drawn aside by Snow’s moronic plan, the storm is weakened. Already, Malcolm is having people gather to move on and run. 

My teeth grind against each other. One of the fae approaches, hungrily. I can see it drifting closer in that icy way they move. Then I turn to look at it, staring the monster down. Snow’s asleep. I have nothing to hide anymore. “Fuck. Off.”

Anger [Channels] into my eyes, enhancing [Piercing Gaze]. I stare the creature down as its approach slows. I stare as fear crawls into its movements, and it stops. Then, it turns around, and disappears into the wall of sleet. Pathetic.

Carefully I make sure the heating cube is staying in place, warming Snow up. How ironic would that be, having someone with that name freeze to death? How silly.

No. 

My fury boils within me, moving through my veins like liquid fire, keeping me moving. The storm outside is nothing compared to the rushing of my blood in my ears, my heart beating like a hummingbird. It feels invigorating. Like life itself, boiling through me. It feels like coming home.

There are memories bubbling at the edge of my awareness. Ones that whisper about my anger, why it’s there, but I discard them like the trash they are. I am not an angry person. I am perfectly calm, quiet, and collected.

Fury boils through me anyway, and the snow hisses at the touch of the anger. That’s why I went out. Inu is tougher than me. Opal is faster than me. Sylves is more welcome in the storm. And yet, I went out.

Because while they can brave the storm, I can brave the wraiths.

Another one comes at me, and I stare at it. My eyes find its core in a moment, and activating the attacking part of the skill with everything I have, a lance of psychic angers spears through the thing.

[You have killed a lv. 38 Fogfae]

It falls apart into fine mist. They’re all pathetic.

The hunger pulls at my insides, churning my stomach, but it, too, is burned away by anger. 

I’m mad. I’m a kind and gentle person, but I’m pissed. This storm, these wraiths, almost killed my friends. The only people in the world I’ve managed to keep around me. Who’ve seen me beat people to death and simply shrugged it off.

And now, it wanted to kill them? Inacceptable. 

I walk forward, the [Rage] fanned by my thoughts. I hate the way it feels, the way it burns, and yet, I know it’s necessary. I can feel it in the way the storm pulls away from me. In the way that the wraiths are afraid. 

A snowflake lands on Snow’s face and I carefully, gently brush it away, stepping forward. Any wraith that approaches us gets burned, my skills working together. I make sure to remember this landscape, the way the snow falls. It’s pretty and picturesque even while I despise it. 

I make sure to remember it, to paint it in the landscape of my mind. Because I will be back, and I will wipe out every single wretched wraith who ever even thought of laying a finger on my precious friend. Snow’s blood stains my gloves, and I vow, then and there, to kill every single fae I can get my hands on once we’re strong enough.

Another one approaches, and my [Rage] flares so hard it levels as the fae disintegrates, but I disregard the notification. It feeds back into my epitaph.

Snow helped us all kill fae during the first few days on the floor. I got my epitaph a few days ago, through levelling up my class enough to get a supremacy level. I don’t love it, but it is helpful for me.

[Flashflood Rage (Power)

Boiling fury roils and breaks,

Then leaves a silence in its wake.]

It’s the way my anger works. It’s all consuming while it lasts, then disappears. My class stabilizes it, but the epitaph makes it especially powerful at destroying. Which is exactly what I use it for, at the end of the day.

The snow and the storm, all the raging, flowing ice, everything it is breaks against my anger. I feel furious. At my own powerlessness, furious at the wraiths, at the tower, at the world itself. At captain Malcolm for failing, at everyone who died for dying, at Snow for running into the storm and saving us all again.

Fucking idiot. Every single moment of this sucks.

[Rage 9 > 10]

Ice breaks against my skin, and I channel some of that heat into Snow. My anger crawls underneath pale skin, and I see heart flowing through those veins again. Under my [Piercing Gaze], I see Snow’s blood vessels. I also see the mana construct in my friend’s skull, where we’d agreed not to place them.

There are a dozen tiny experiments caged in parts of Snow’s body. The missing arm is filled with tiny inscriptions, pulsing steady streams of malformed healing into the stump. Crystalline constructs woven around my unconscious friend’s brain. Enchantments woven into the cloak that grew so hot they burnt into Snow’s skin.

And, of course, tiny glyphs of that skill they use to quiet the world around the ears.

I take a breath, seeing it mist in the storm and march onward. The ice is thinner now, and it gets easier to walk. My friend is an idiot. I’m so fucking angry. 

Then the fucker even has the audacity to crack a smile. Snow’s eyes flicker open. “Hey Thatch?” 

“Yes?” I ask, keeping the anger out of my voice and giving them a kind smile. “What is it?”

“What’s your dad’s name again?” Snow asks.

[Rage 10 > 11]

“William. William Riley,” I answer, through gritted teeth.

Snow smiles. “Got it.” The words coming from those lips are shaky and quiet. “Thanks.”

I recognize their tone. This asshole can’t even let me save them before going and making a promise to return the favour. “Just rest, you moron.”

“You only insult me when you’re upset. Can you explain later?” 

Damn know-it-all. “I will. Rest.”

“Okay,” Snow says, and falls asleep again, right there.

I march out of the storm, fuelled by anger. When the winds stop, my rage leaves me like a flickering memory. It washes away all at once, like a wave drawing back from the shore and back into the ocean. I take a deep breath, and ever so gently place my friend down on the grass. It’s wet from the melting snow, but Jess quickly brings a few flames over.

Inu and Sylves crowd around me, taking care of Snow with their skills. Opal picks up a sword. Their face is a mask of calm indifference, pointing the weapon at anyone who even tries to come close, not taking any chances. 

There is so much relief in the air. I [Channel] more warmth into Snow. And then, I look around, standing next to Opal. We both know it, at once.

If anyone steps up, we’ll smash their skulls in.