A Chronometric Defect

An inscriptionist's job is to make inscriptions. This city has been more than fair to me; more than accommodating. I've long been open to returning their favor.

But why now?

I understand this is a time of crisis. Such favors are intended, perhaps designed, to be called in at moments like these. Still, I find myself confused.

"— engage it in wordplay alone. The things it says are unfathomable—"

Those two have been blathering about politics, somehow involving the monster, but I hold zero interest in such trifles. Yes, monster. Some may call them dragons, but that term is a relic of a bygone era. Nowadays? They're monsters.

I am mildly curious as to why the mayor would deign to talk politics with a mere guard, but not curious enough to force my ears to function. Only when I hear of a sigil, inscription, array, or keystone do I care enough to take notice.

Am I arrogant? Absolutely! I am THE BEST in my field. At least, none I have even met can hope to surpass me. This has been proven time and time again: at competitions, at symposiums, at the royal palace. My works remain uncontested. I thus possess sufficient clout to ignore their blather, by way of my immense accomplishments.

Haitos City earned my favor by engaging my unique mind with inscription at a young age. This favor they're using? It's old, aged, and valuable.

As am I.

So— why did they ask me to MEET with the damn thing? To talk compensation, even, as though I am a mere tool to be rented?! I got on this coach assuming I was valued!

I glare annoyedly at the mayor.

This fool of a leader doesn't know what he has. What he stands to lose by bringing me there. What he WILL lose assuming I'm able to walk away with my life. Who ever heard of a mere monster asking to meet with an inscriptionist? To discuss payment? To inspire a godsdamned elected official to cart themselves out to a mineshaft with all his most valuable personnel, and escorted by a single guard at—

My face twists in fear; my eyes fixate on our single guard. I look out the window, then again at the guard.

Can I run? Is he in on it? In my ignorance, did I fail to realize our mayor was leading a monster suicide cult?

The mayor notices my sudden changes in expression.

"Aitos, we don't need more guards. In fact, we don't need any. I only brought this guard along because he faced Pure Evil in combat—"

The guard clears his throat.

*a-hem*

"— definitely in combat. No other reason. He won't be fighting anything. Especially not—"

Precisely what I'd expect from a cultist.

"Mayor, that's exactly my fear."

"You're worried we... Won't... Have to fight?"

I nod my head.

The mayor shrugs his arms, showing a blatant 'well I can't give any shits right now' expression if I've ever seen one.

Who elected this idiot? It wasn't me. I motion with my chin toward the guard.

"You. Your name was?"

He gives a Haitos guard salute. Head held high, two fists to his chest like he's holding a sword.

*chkchk*

"Barnet, at your service."

At least he's got plenty of spirit.

"What's your opinion of our situation?"

"Frankly, sir, I think if the dragon wanted to kill us, the entire city would've been gone upon its initial attack. Moreover, there's no wild monsters near the city. My captain said they all sensed Pure Evil's immense Mana and fled."

Well, that's interesting.

"Dragons have flame breath, right? Are you saying it used a single flame breath to cause so much damage? But why didn't I see any major fires on the way out?"

The mayor turns pale. Hm, paler.

"You... You don't know?! HOW?!"

I'm not liking this conversation already.

The mayor turns to Barnet and continues speaking to him.

He's ignoring me?

Rude. You truly enjoy testing my patience.

"I'd like to correct one thing you just said, Barnet. Pure Evil claimed that was a greeting, not an attack."

The guard and I are both floored.

"What?""What?"

I'm perturbed that I had the same reaction as a mere city guard.

The mayor continues.

"It said its roar was intended to 'announce its arrival.' But it then stated, and I quote, 'Sadly, I've found your human cities are far too flimsy to bear my full prestige.'"

I cannot— agh!

"What LUNACY is this?! You've accepted the words of a mere monster? No, how can a monster talk?! So what if the spell isn't flame breath?! It can't just ROAR and kill hundreds! That WAS a spell!"

The guard looks at me and speaks sheepishly.

"Have you... Seen it?"

Hmph. I am NOT a gawker.

"I was secluded in my lab. I came out solely because my experiment was disrupted by an untimely blast of Mana convolutions."

The mayor finally gains life back in his eyes. Is that what they were discussing? No, never mind. I appreciate his interest in my experiments, but that doesn't mean I care about his issues.

"Then, did you calculate the strength of its spell?"

"Of course! Without even seeing the spell, I know its precise measure. It'd require a minimum Wis of roughly eight hundred and fifty at ten hours of chanting, thirteen hundred at one hour. Meaning, twenty decent mages could cast it in about seven minutes. It's tough, but with an aged monster's Mana pool? It could probably pull off the seven-minute chant on its own."

The mayor throws his head down, face covered by his hands. He shakes his head.

"No, no, no, no, no, no!"

He raises his head. I raise my eyebrow.

This lunatic is actually crying. He nearly yells.

"My backup plan was to strike with our mages!"

Wait, he doesn't want to sacrifice us? Then—

"You brought all of the elite mage units?"

He throws his hands out in exasperation.

"YEEEEES!"

Okay, confirmed not a cultist. So why is he upset?

"Is there some problem with what I said?"

"No, I trust your judgment—"

"Right answer."

"— but I had the Sound Mage Team check and re-check the spell's magnitude. They determined it was less than a hundredth of your figure!"

I frown.

"So you... You're doubting me?"

"NO! You're the best at this, Aitos. Everyone knows it. I know it. They must've not been able to correctly measure the Mana output due to those Mana convolutions you mentioned! I felt something was amiss given the sheer amount of damage, which is why I asked them to recheck! Many times! Agh..."

This all makes sense. I calmly reply to his apt assessment.

"The more intense the magic, the more quickly its Mana oscillates. However, fast-oscillating Mana travels through solid objects more easily. In short, the tool or algorithm our mages are using can't properly measure a large Mana blast. But why is this a problem? Aren't they already chanting?"

The mayor motions to a female attendant sitting beside me. He then points his thumb behind himself.

"Tell them to stop chanting. Instead, tell them to start practicing grovelling. Not just for the dragon, but for me too. They almost got us all killed."

"Mayor, this order seems imprudent."

The attendant freezes at my words, while the mayor looks visibly upset due to my interference.

"I'm doing this because I'm being prudent, Aitos. You just confirmed we don't know this dragon's full capabilities. Not even slightly."

"I beg to differ, Mayor. I've elucidated its Mana pool and thus casting ability quite clearly."

"Over what timespan?"

"I gave several options, none of which are catastrophically threatening. My information is based on a very precise theory of Mana distribution and consumption. I created it myself; naturally, it works every time."

"Two problems, Aitos."

I'm offended.

"Two? Not one, but two?"

"First, you don't know this dragon's actual Wis stat."

"I gave a very high value to account for a large margin of error. It's not rational to presume higher."

"Correct, but that becomes a problem when combined with problem two."

"The two are related. Is that not one problem?"

"No, it's two. We've confirmed the data, and this part was processed with your algorithm, so it's definitely right. The spell you detected was cast instantly."

"WHAAAAAT?!"

"Quiet down, Aitos. We'll be arriving soon. I don't want to disturb Pure Evil."

"You keep stating thus; is that its name?"

"Yes, that's its name! I'm starting to wonder if guard Barnet has more sense than you!"

Strange name. And how DARE he. But first—

"Never mind that and listen. Instant-cast requires zero cast time, correct? But no spell can have zero cast time. Even no-chant spells have a small cast time. Chants are only needed to stabilize a spell for long cast times. Follow?"

"Yes."

"Mostly, sir."

I ignore the guard.

"Instant-cast means the spell is formed and casted with zero Mana resistance. This is physically impossible! It would require a conduit of perfect Mana conductivity— what some call a 'perfect conductor.' Which. Is. Not. Real. It's a concept meant to clarify complex things for simpletons! Do you see why your so-called data must be flawed?"

The mayor firmly nods.

"Yes. Then, there's only one other way to figure this out. What would a perfectly conductive Mana conduit look like? Any different from a normal wand or casting aid?"

"Completely different! Unmistakable! It would be blacker-than-black, as it cannot not have any physical properties which may interfere with Mana distribution and thus casting. It would be so black, that it cannot be seen by any means. It must appear as though shorn cleanly from existence."

I shake my head, then continue speaking.

"This is a purely hypothetical construct. It's never been observed in a lab, never mind in normal materials."

The mayor slaps his forehead.

*smk*

He then grabs the inscription slab which was sitting next to him on the coach bench. He looks down at it as he speaks.

"Allow me to show you Pure Evil."

He taps on the inscription slab, then looks up almost despondently. He shakily hands it over.

I inject my Mana and am greeted by a three-dimensional mental image of a giant monster... Smiling, almost.

I can't really tell, as its face is covered with more black than any other color.

Those black cutouts make the monster's face look like a mess, but said mess possesses a pair of brilliant red irises.

"This... This is... Just its face, yes?"

"Its entire body, Aitos. May my attendant go?"

I mentally flip to another image. This time it's the monster walking away, its wings held out wide.

Finally, I can see its whole body.

Except my brain locks up.

{"What even..."}

"Aitos?"

Its horns, its claws, its sharp blades, even the plates lining its every major feature.

They're all solidly spatial black. Just as I was told.

Its scales, too. Some are partially black, but other areas are missing scales entirely. No... They're not missing. They're likely also spatial black.

This thing isn't a monster.

It's a perfect spell-casting machine. Except, said perfect machine is evidently ALIVE.

I feel cold chills at the thought.

I address the attendant.

"Do as the mayor instructed."

The attendant opens the coach door.

*clak*

She exits the coach, then closes its door lightly.

*klik*