Chapter Thirteen - A Chilling Touch

“Once I get bored and decide to remake the world in my image, I guarantee that it will be a world where things are, at the very base, fair.

You will never see that world though.”

***

“Whoa!” the limpet said as she gasped at the skeletal warriors patrolling around the compound. She skipped closer to the skeleton, then stopped a few paces away to turn towards me. “Is it dangerous?” she asked.

“That would depend entirely on who you are. To someone like myself or Alex, or even the more senior people who lived in this compound, no. A skeleton of that level wouldn’t be much of a threat. To someone like you? Well, you could discover that on your own by poking at that warrior.”

I sat down on a nice little bench set to one side of the courtyard, just under the canopy of an old tree. It was a shady little area that was surprisingly comfortable.

A calm place to think.

The limpet seemed rather excited, which I supposed was only fair. There was science afoot, and knowledge to uncover!

“Limpet,” I said. “Go stand over there, in that little circle of stone.”

The limpet looked over just in time to see the ground pop up in a necrometer-wide circle not too far from where I sat. Just a minor earth moving spell to give her a place to be. Not that I needed her to stand still, it just irritated me to have the girl running all over.

“Before we begin,” I said. “I want you to tell me about yourself. Not the dull details, tell me about what you know.”

The limpet came to a stop in the centre of the circle and adjusted her dress and the satchel which still hung by her side. Her dog looked up from where it was resting in the sun, but it soon let its head fall back down.

“Right,” the limpet began. “I’m Fenfang Fang. I was born in Fissure Llidae; it’s close to the domain of the Storm Lake sect. I’m eighteen, and I’ve been kicked out of seven sects. The Storm Lake and Flowing Paths sects, the Storm and Mist Gate guardians, The Ashen Forest and the Sect of the Jade Golems. Oh, and this one too! My parents are merchants, so I learned how to read and write, and my dream is to become really strong even though I’m a girl.”

“Congratulations,” I said. “You missed the entire point of my question.”

The limpet blinked dumbly.

“No, nevermind.” I waved her questions down. “I need to set a certain base of knowledge before I can move on. Just answer me honestly.”

“Yes master!” the limpet said.

“What level are you at and what is your class?”

The scientific method called for certain steps to be done in a certain order. First and foremost, the researcher had to have a question that they wanted answered, or an observation they needed confirmed.

In this case, I suspected that the system that ruled the world in my day had, to some extent or another, changed. So far my proof amounted to a lack of mentions in the texts I’d read, but that wasn’t concrete proof.

The limpet would be my test subject to see if and how the system had changed.

“Um,” the limpet said. She adjusted her glasses. “I don’t know what that means. Sorry. Also, are you an undead for real? That’s like, super illegal.”

“I am,” I said. “I’m an Eldritch Lich, it’s an unnatural race. As for the legality, I don’t particularly care. Is that an issue for you?”

“No, of course not,” she said. “I can’t wait to learn all sorts of depraved and vile arts with you, master!”

“Back on topic,” I said, disregarding her enthusiasm. “Are you aware of anything called a system? Or a method by which a person can quantify their power and abilities with hard numbers?”

“Uh,” she said. She looked ready to say no when she hesitated. “Yes? There are certain objects that allow you to do that. But they’re really rare and expensive and only the sects have them. They’re usually used to see how much a member of the sect has progressed.”

“Interesting,” I said. Enchantments existed that could transfer one’s status to parchment. But for that to work at all, it was reasonable to expect that the system was, in some way, still present.

“Observe.”

A Wandering Scholar, Level 14.

I raised a hand and tapped at my chin. The class was interesting, one that I’d actually seen before. The level was... rather pathetic. But that left her with--potentially--plenty of room to grow.

The more time and effort someone spent in a class, the harder it would be for them to switch. The class could still evolve though. I didn’t begin as an Archwizard after all. “Does your class allow for the use of spells and cantrips?” I asked.

“My class?” the limpet repeated.

Of course, if she wasn’t aware of the system, then there was no hope that she knew about her own class. I waved my hand through a prescribed gesture.

“Lesser Reveal Status.”

Name Class Secondary Class Fenfang Fang Wandering Scholar N/A Strength Race Alignment 8 Human Neutral Neutral Dexterity 10 Current Level EXP to Next Level Constitution 14 754 7 Intelligence Hit Points 98 12 Armour Proficiency Light Wisdom Armour Class 10 4 Resistances None Charisma Flaws Shortsighted 8 Affinities Rapid Learning

She did have a system then, or at least... the system reflected her abilities, class, and stats.

“What’re you doing?” the limpet asked.

I replied absently while thinking. “I’m using some skills to observe your level and stats. It seems that the system that I’m familiar with still works, but then, why can’t you interact with it?”

The limpet shrugged.

“Try saying ‘status’ while wanting your status to appear,” I instructed.

She repeated after me a few times, but nothing seemed to happen. Was she just... unable to access the system?

That would fit neatly within my hypothesis, that the reason there was such a massive shift in the culture, and a move towards Cultivation, was that the average person could no longer see or interact with their own status.

What would the cultural implications of such a change be? Was there more to it?

“Alex!”

I only had to wait a moment before a blur shot out of an upper floor window and appeared by my side. “Yes, Bone Papa?” Alex asked. He was currently wearing a skirt and nothing else. Was he working on his outfit again? I noticed the limpet’s face reddening before she looked away.

“Alex, can you view your status?”

Alex blinked. “Yes? Do you need to see it?”

“Is your spell and skill-list visible? Your achievements? Your feats?”

I saw Alex’s eyes wandering, a clear sign that he was seeing something I couldn’t. “Yes Daddy.”

“Interesting. You may return to your work.”

Alex grinned. “Thanks Papa!”

I hummed as I processed all of that. I still had a few things to verify before I could make even a tentative conclusion. “Limpet,” I said.

“Yes!”

“Do you know any spells?”

She shook her head, eyes wide behind her glasses. “No master. Spells are... well, the court wizards might know some, and some of the sect elders and senior disciples of some sects. Most abilities are martial, that’s different... right?”

“Indeed,” I said. The local understanding of spellwork was a bit backwards, with most only learning spells deep into their careers. With magic usually being exceptionally weak compared to basic martial abilities--that is, the magic that a person could learn in the space of a few years, compared to the same time spent learning martial abilities--it made sense that the focus had shifted. Even in my youth, fighters and warriors outnumbered sorcerers and wizards. The occasional bard and paladin crossed the lines between disciplines, but usually with little prowess.

“Are you going to teach me a spell?” the limpet asked. “Already?”

I nodded slowly. There were some things I wanted to see. It only made sense that class changes still functioned. But were there any changes there? Could someone like the limpet learn a modern... no, I supposed calling the spells I knew ‘modern’ was quite anachronistic, considering.

Regardless, could she learn basic spells of the sort I was familiar with?

I had no difficulty casting, and it seems that those I created, like Alex, functioned under the system I was familiar with.

Time to test it.

I ran through the few thousand cantrips I knew off-hand. Depending on the kind of skill she learned now, it might impact the classes she could use later, which would in turn possibly change her usefulness as a test subject.

Prestidigitation was the obvious choice, a cantrip made for beginners, but it wasn’t what I was looking for.

“We will begin with Chill Touch,” I said. “It’s a very basic spell with two components. One is verbal, the other somatic--that is, it requires a specific gesture to cast.”

I realized that I would need to severely dumb down everything. Most of the time when I had taught someone magic it was as simple as giving them some notes and perhaps a demonstration, they were usually already magic casters of some sort, but this limpet knew nothing.

“I can do that,” the limpet said.

Her confidence was adorably misplaced.

“We’ll see,” I said. “Take out your spell-- ah, of course.” I reached a hand into the pockets of my jacket and rummaged around for a moment before finding a blank spellbook. It was little more than a well-made but simple tome, still blank from cover to cover. “Here.”

The limpet caught the book against her chest with an ‘oomph.’

“All spells require intense visualization and preparation in order to cast. I will be going over these for Chill Touch.”

The limpet nodded rapidly and sat down cross-legged in her little circle. “I’m ready!”

“Hmm.” I said. Her wisdom score was well-earned. “Let’s begin with the visual component. It’s always been easier to teach a spell with a practical demonstration so... you, stand over there.” I gestured to one of the skeletons guarding the courtyard, then to a spot some two dozen necrometers away.

The skeleton jogged over to the spot, then turned back towards us.

“If you practice hard enough, unlock the right feats, and become strong enough you will not need to go through the gestures and components of some spells,” I said. “Cantrips are generally the easiest to work past in this regard. But that’s beyond you for now.”

“Chill Touch.”

A ghostly, skeletal hand appeared in the air next to me and moved out towards the skeleton. It wasn’t moving at any incredible speed, just a little faster than a person could run. It grasped the skeleton and crushed a few of its ribs before stopping and hanging onto it.

“Whoa,” the limpet said. “Is the hand meant to look like a skeleton, or is that just because yours are that way?”

An interesting question! “Generally, yes. But with some small modifications the appearance of the hand can change. Usually, the caster will imagine a hand similar to their own.”

“And it’s cold?” she asked.

“No. The chill in the name is a misnomer. It actually does necrotic damage. Rotting skin and flesh away and inhibiting healing,” I explained. “I believe that part is why so many imagine it as a skeletal hand. The association with death is rather obvious on account of its necromantic origins.”

“So cool,” the limpet said. She started taking notes in her new book. No doubt wasteful and inefficient notes, but that was up to her to figure out.

“Indeed. I can cast the spell a few more times until you’ve grown used to its appearance. After that, we will cover the components of the spell.”

“Thank you, master!” the limpet said.

I gave her a skeleton grin. I did enjoy it when my test subjects were so agreeable.