Apocalypse: Fairy System Macronomicon (a book to read txt) 📖

“I have officially decided: I choose the location, and Mr. O’sut’s castle is an excellent location for a duel to determine which of us is a child-killer!” Jeb said. “Race you there!” Jeb started tottering away at the highest speed he could muster. Between the pegleg and the lingering enervation, it was slow going.

“No!” Jeb felt a wave of Myst like a heat bloom against his back as the people restraining Mirzos Elkor slumped to the ground, eyes wide and staring into the distance.

Did he just kill those people? Jeb thought as he glanced over his shoulder, the splitting headache returning. The surrounding crowd began to scream and back away from the maddened judge as he began sprinting after Jeb, knocking people out of his way.

Must go faster, must go faster!

Jeb’s prosthetic toe came unglued, allowing his foot to slip out from under him and sending him down like a bag of rocks.

A bolt of sea-green energy flew over Jeb’s head at that exact moment.

The judge was faster than him, yes. He also had more Myst, but Jeb‘s Myst could be used to enhance his own mobility, whereas the Judge’s couldn’t.

Jeb grabbed his ribcage with telekinesis and stopped himself from falling directly on his broken arm, buying just enough time to bunch his good leg under himself and push off, regaining his footing.

Jeb pushed himself along with Myst, evening out his stumbles and adding extra forward momentum, just barely staying ahead of the bulging-eyed judge.

The persistent headache made everything just a little bit harder to pull off.

Damnit, this feels like Myst sickness, Jeb thought in a spare fraction of a second between one footfall and the next.

Wait, what if it is Myst sickness?

Jeb had felt the beginnings of a headache when the judge refused to answer his question in court, and again when the keegan attempted to kill Smartass, and the headache had redoubled when he’d killed the people restraining him.

The judge has been losing his authority in the eyes of the people, Jeb thought to himself. The loss of respect and station was being converted into Impact for Jeb, as payment for reneging on their Deal to answer a question, in real-time.

That was probably why I was able to survive! Jeb thought, pushing himself forward at breakneck speeds. Sure, it still knocked his ass out, but his tolerance was at least high enough to survive a hit.

Except falling unconscious for a few seconds with an angry superhuman hot on your heels isn’t exactly a good idea.

Probably wouldn’t wake up again.

Jeb didn’t have time to stop and use the Appraiser on himself, and aside from his tolerance to Myst, little else had changed. His Core was still the same size, because he hadn’t been given any time to grow it.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up and Jeb hauled himself to the left with his Myst, allowing a bolt of energy to blast past him, sinking into the brickwork of the buildings lining the street.

In front of Jeb, a crimson bolt of Myst flew up above the O’sut castle, shooting into the air like a flare.

Who the fuck has blood-red Myst? Jeb thought to himself, dropping to a slide under a cart, using his pegleg to absorb the friction. He winced as the gold inlay was no doubt damaged beyond repair, scraping against the cobblestone street.

Jeb hauled himself to his foot and kept sprinting, pushing himself forward.

The judge followed him a second later, the boney bastard sailing gracefully over the eight-foot-tall wagon.

Jeb grabbed a half-rotted cabbage and threw it over his shoulder, rewarded with a squawk of outrage as it spread green-brown slime all over the keegan’s ceremonial gi.

Shouldn’t have worn fancy clothes to a duel anyway.

A handful of seconds later, Jeb made it to the front of the O’sut castle, the judge trailing behind him.

There, in the center of the courtyard, was a crazy-ass battle royale.

Zlesk and Colt were back-to-back, fighting against melas and keegan men and women dressed in servant’s garb, who seemed to be fighting both Jeb’s allies and each other.

Off to the side was a single woman wielding blood-red Myst, whirling it around her body like a whip. She had a crowd of servants around her, and was fending off the natives of the castle.

Good or bad? She whipped a length of razor-sharp Myst down at Zlesk. The former sheriff was busy locking down several combatants, and her strike was barely fended off by Colt’s slime.

Bad, then.

Sweat beaded on the teenager’s forehead as he tried to fend off the immaterial blade with nothing but magic lube.

“Colt, switch partners!” Jeb shouted from the entrance, pointing over his shoulder.

Jeb bunched his legs under him and pushed off, sailing high through the air while Colt took the opportunity to blast the corrupt judge in the face with slime, causing the man to slip from his feet and begin sliding through the courtyard at full speed.

Unable to affect physics with his Myst or Class Ability, the judge simply floundered, sliding past them until he smacked into the inner courtyard’s brick wall.

“Keep him down!” Jeb shouted, pulling off his mud-covered foot and shouldering it like a rifle. Jeb fed a drop of Myst through the gold whorl that indicated the Myst intake port.

…Nothing happened.

Where’s my ‘womp’?

The cops, ever so helpful, must have removed the hidden weapon to make it street-legal.

Sonofabitch!

His stubby, short-range depression wand had been confiscated after he’d whammied the bailiff, so he couldn’t even take these people out through ennui.

Guess we gotta do this the old-fashioned way, Jeb thought, grimly staring down the Myst user as he hopped in place on one foot.

The woman came to her senses moments after Jeb landed, sending a snakelike projection of red Myst toward him.