In Loki's Honor

Right after the Count left our domain and his army withdrew from our borders, we sent Arista to collect the other Aspects. Crawcolt might think we only had three fourth-rankers and we would keep him relying on that information. Meanwhile, we would have Alloralla, Snowdrop, Rosewise, and Lakerta here in case he tried any dirty tricks.

Crushing Crawcolt was out of the question. Barbara cared about her reputation and didn't want to create enemies for Clovehaven. We wanted to find a diplomatic solution

We thought about sending someone to gather intelligence on Crawcolt's fief but it was too risky. The only one in our group he hadn't seen yet and wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb on {Appraise} results was Elise but she was a halfling. Though not from Clovehaven, an unknown halfling gathering information would too stick out like a sore thumb. We could send Apricot with a disguise but who knew what she would do once she found something fishy? I could do it easily but in no way I would leave Barbara's side. So we decided to go in the dark and spring any traps set for us from inside.

If push came to shove and he forced our hand, Crawcolt would earn a Divine Advent special event on his fief. Many times I forced myself to rein in my monstrous instincts, for Barbara's sake. I did not care for the well-being of strangers but for her reputation among her peers. I knew she valued that too much and also that Lorna didn't want to become [Queen] again. Nevertheless, this world was engineered to put the powerful in positions of leadership. Unless you isolated yourself from society, the weaker ones would flock to the powerful in search of safety. And the powerful would quickly entice the promising ones to better shield themselves from their peers.

Peasant revolutions were almost unheard of. What could a bunch of unranked people do against the likes of titans and demigods in the fourth or even third rank? I was sure that the meeting with Crawcolt would've gone a different way if we hadn't the Aspects with us.

*

*

Morning. We woke up in Barbara's old bedroom at her parent's place. After our morning ablutions and a quick breakfast of oatmeal porridge and fruits, we went to check on the construction of her lovely wooden castle. It wasn't a palace but also wasn't just a brick tower. The Halflings were putting their best effort to raise something worthy of their Lady. We were atop the next hill (Halfling-sized hills, mind you), admiring the almost-finished building.

I asked her.

"Better than never. I barely slept today, again. Thanks for lending me your... mother's encyclopedia."

Barbara spent the whole night reading Marlowe's textbooks and grimoires stored in the [Lost Sage's Encyclopedia]. That was a very convenient book but people could only read it with my permission. Despite spending the whole time awake, she looked as fresh as if she'd spent the whole day resting. Not only she had bottomless stamina, but she was also physically three months younger. All thanks to some curse I didn't bother to dispel. I wouldn't let her turn into a toddler but I saw no harm in letting it run for a while more. I wanted to see if anyone at the capital could best my Proficiency in {Spellcaster} and find the hidden curse.

Meanwhile, Himmel had aged two years and was having some serious problems keeping himself awake. At that moment, I only suspected it, but the [King]'s illness and his forced Species changed greatly weakened the confidence of the Nobles in his rule. A lesson found in mom's book, from [Queen] Mirina Luwens Locksley of Windemere; A [King] without supporters did not remain one for too long.

Maybe that's why Crawcolt used the Church's fervorous desire to have their prized fox-girl back as a pretext to prod and probe around to see what we were made of. His faction placed their chips on Himmel, and that investment was sinking faster than a brick of Adamantite tossed in the ocean.

We saw a troop of kids running along one of the many brooks that ran between the hills. One of the major reasons this region had no Labyrinth entrance was that the whole valley was atop a gigantic underground water table and almost every hill had a small spring or source from which crystalline and pure water flowed freely. One would be hard-pressed to find a well in Clovehaven.

"Good Morning Your Ladyship!" One of the boys shouted at Barbara, putting all the pomp and theatrical exaggeration he could into his greeting.

The other kids mocked him, we didn't quite catch what they said from up here but he blushed. Perhaps a not-so-secret admirer?

"Show us some magic!" A girl begged.

Barbara asked with a mischievous grin.

Smiling, Barbara indulged. She summoned her staff out of her storage ring to a gaggle of surprised gasps, and slowly drew an exaggeratedly large spell circle. I watched carefully. Her drawing and realization speed still needed work but at least the lines weren't like wet noodles anymore. I could sense her focus clamp on the MP flowing to the diagram, pouring more than necessary and making the diagram glow even under direct sunlight. Perhaps making the staff's ruby panels hold premade spell circles for quick activation was a bad call. It made her a bit lazy and too reliant on her favorite spells as she only needed to channel her MP into the diagram to cast it.

Regardless, I was sure my dear [Crystallomancer] knew her own shortcomings painfully well. She wasn't spending every night studying magical theory and wizardry for nothing.

She finished drawing the parts and then realized the full diagram. It surprised me for being an attack spell. It was one using Marlowe's interchangeable sections theory and showed a very curious choice. The spell she wove borrowed from mom's patented (no such thing in this world) M.I.T.H. Force Javelins but instead of Force, it used both Light and Crystal (a specialization of Earth) as its main element. The targeting part was the most peculiar. The spell would target itself. Why would one want their magic to attack itself instead of her enemies was anyone's guess.

Her Elemental Affinity flared and her Class resonated with the Magic. The spell she was trying to cast would be impossible for her were not for those Traits lending System aid to her own skills. Lowercase S, mind you. Skills with a capital S were taken down by Wyxnos ages ago.

Barbara finished feeding the circle and it locked in place. She wouldn't be swapping an element on the fly like Marlowe would certainly demand of her at this point. Then she shouted the name of her new Spell.

"Prismatic Carnival!"

Out of the oversized diagram, born of pure magic, dozens of crystals sprung to life. They were like multifaceted prisms and caught the light of the sun and the image of everything around them. The purity of those crystals was impressive and I couldn't spot a flaw in any of them. Their refractive properties resembled diamonds. I also noticed that they cast shadows on the grass covering the next hill over behind the awestruck kids, showing that they were doing a great job of capturing the light. Some of them were even shining a little.

These crystals split, and smaller lenses floated near them. It seemed that each prism had its own constellation of lenses to go along with them. That's why she borrowed the M.I.T.H. concept from mom. Each prism shone brighter and brighter as some of the light rays they caught inside their complex structure escaped. When they became fully charged by sunlight, they started to fire lasers.

I almost freaked out. Barbara was actually firing her friggin' laz0rs.

You couldn't see the beams, obviously. I only became aware of them because they weren't composed of only light. They each carried a little amount of magic and my {Light Magic Affinity} allowed me to sense it.

Every time a beam struck another prism, that prism flared with all the colors of the rainbow as a small amount of the light from the laser was diffracted around the slanted facets on the edges. Then it would absorb the light it took and fire another laser. All the while, they were drawing in ambient Mana and sunlight to sustain themselves. That extra charge caused the lasers to increase in frequency. The prisms would fly around, rotate to aim at another prism and shoot. A flash of rainbow light and that prism would then shoot its own beam at another, spin around, take a hit, then fire again.

A few minutes later, the flow of light energy stabilized. The prisms were firing each every couple of seconds or less, but they were legion. They were firing so fast now, the energy they absorbed from the sun matched what they lost with the rainbow bursts.

The cloud of flying crystals spread out and up to avoid casting shadows over one another. The kids down by the stream were ecstatic and hysterical as they screamed and ran around, trying to catch colorful castoff light being sprayed around.

I noticed Barbara swayed a bit on her feet. Despite taking in ambient Mana, it was nowhere near what the spell needed to keep going. I told her.

We usually left my MP pool full, because every point of overflow from my MP regeneration counted double to erode the curses, currently focused on the one capping my Mental Attributes.

While the kids and now some Halflings on the construction site watched the light show with unfettered amazement, I pondered a little. I could see the combat applications of this spell. The crystals would fly around, distracting enemies, forcing them to move or get struck by the lasers, or making them waste attacks breaking them. The diagram was perfectly capable of summoning more, it wasn't doing it right now because Barbara limited the number of crystals in existence at any moment. But it was a spell too strong and too costly for a first-rank spellcaster. She would need to rank up at least once or twice before it was feasible to use that in a life-or-death situation.

But I couldn't help but feel proud of her. It was a gorgeous spell, one that would be immortalized in the minds and hearts of anyone who saw it.

I mentally gasped as I beamed my feelings through our bond.

I replied. I drew the diagram on a blank page inside me. Then I cast a very simple spell.

I surrounded the area occupied by the prisms with a thin mist. It didn't block sight as it was intended but both dimmed sunlight a bit and made the laser beams visible to the naked eye. It surprised me to notice they were a pale green. The reason was obvious after thinking for a while. Sunlight was white but all the light coming from below was green, reflected by the ubiquitous grass covering the mounds of earth that decorated Clovehaven's landscape.

The rate of fire slowed a bit but it was worth it. Tiny heads swiveled on tiny necks as the kids tried to follow the path of the beams as the light bounced from prism to prism.

Alas, the cost in MP was becoming a bit steep and Barbara cut the MP feeding the spell. It quickly consumed whatever energy was left in the circle diagram which faded, then the prisms shattered into small crystalline clouds which sparkled as they slowly dissolved and fell in slow motion. I dissipated my conjured mist.

The magic was over. But it left a deep impression on our hearts.

*

*

"Mom, dad, I'm home!" Barbara shouted as she entered her parents' cabin.

"Your Excellency, welcome to our humble home!" from the kitchen, Mrs. Ambrose shouted with a whiff of pomp in her voice in jest, pretending Barbara was an important visitor.

"Mom!" The girl and Baroness protested. Barbara got a fit of giggles for an answer. "Not here. At least not here!"

"Your father is at the construction site."

We entered the kitchen. Mrs. Ambrose was stirring a pot, adding dried herbs as she tested the smell and flavor of her broth. Barbara took her place at the modest dining table.

"The woes of growing up," the older Halfling teased. With her back to us, focused on her cooking, she continued, "I saw the lights from here. Was it your magic?"

Barbara startled, "Yeah. You saw that?"

Ladle in hand, Mrs. Ambrose turned around, "I did. Did you know you talk to yourself when you're concentrating? Also, that the walls here are too thin?"

She lowered her eyes, "Did I wake you up?"

"Hold. I have to stir this," her mom went back to the pot. She then narrowed the stove's air intake to get the broth to a slow boil. "There, it won't burn now." She turned around after resting the ladle on a saucer, wiping her hands on her apron. "What's troubling you, daughter."

"Nethe calls it 'impostor syndrome'," Barbara confessed. "I don't think I'm the right person to lead."

"Mr. Book is a wise tome," Mrs. Ambrose grinned as she sat next to Barbara and grasped the girl's hand. "My precious daughter. You are fit to rule. You are the most exceptional halfling this valley has produced in two centuries! Almost an [Archmage]! If it is not you, then who?"

"Perhaps nobody? We did fine in the last two centuries."

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Ambrose snapped. "We stagnated and were left behind, forgotten by everyone else, not even worthy of a bandit raid, in the last two centuries. Why do you think I cook with a wood stove when the ladies in Brahmshire a dozen hills away are using enchanted heating plates?"

The ambient mana level in Clovehaven Valley was too low to support the cheap heating plates sold in Brahmshire. The Halflings had nothing of value to raid. This would change drastically, though.

"But..."

"Why do you think the men merrily toil all day long to build you a castle? Are you paying them?"

"We are," Barbara admitted.

Mrs. Ambrose narrowed her eyes and commanded, imperious, "then go fetch that liar of a father."

Barbara jumped out of her chair, color draining from her face. "He didn't tell you?"

The older Halfling's lips puckered, then her eyes narrowed, then the corners of her mouth spread toward the ears. She snorted a muffled chuckle once then broke into a fit of giggles.

"Mom!" Barbara blushed.

Barbara's adventurous spirit was born from hundreds of interactions like this one. Playing the straight man to her tease of a mother made her enjoy the outdoors. Also gave her a lot of social anxiety.

"Do you take me for a fool, your Excellency?"

Barbara sighed and sat back, "No."

Mrs. Ambrose relaxed in her chair, then radiated soccer mom vibes with a tender smile, "Do you think people talk about anything else other than you and your tall companions? Don't you think the gossips pester me every waking hour for news about you?"

"I hoped," she replied, leaving the 'you would ignore them' part unsaid.

"Not happening," her mom laughed. "I'm so proud of you," she sniffled and shed a tear. "I even had this made," she fished inside her neckline and pulled a silver pendant with the Matriarch's holy symbol. "I pray every night to the Goddess so She protects you."

Mrs. Ambrose was the only person who knew of Barbara's special Perk.

"Ah—"

"I know She does. She has sent Her [Saintess] and Her Champions to look after you."

I replied in Barbara's stead.

"Oh, Mr. Book. I thought you were sleeping."

Another fit of giggles, "I see why Barbara likes you so much, Mr. Book. You are practically like her father!" She gasped. "Did I marry a mimic?"

"Mom!"

*

*

Night.

I was in the basement of the castle, doing an experiment.

Six first-rank whole monster Cores, gold thread, thin brass tubes, gemstone shards, wrought weathering steel plates, and two nice pebbles. Each Core was etched with runes to generate their own Mana, a four-carat diamond to work as MP storage, then the gold thread woven into cursive runes around the gemstones shards to give significance to the enchantments, going inside the brass tubes to generate the heat, everything sandwiched and hidden by the gorgeously rusted red steel. On one side, the two pebbles, one reddish, the other white, worked as controls for the heating plate. They had a heat resistance effect inscribed behind them with runes.

Each Core went for about a silver or two, the gold thread was a bother to pull but didn't use much gold at all, the brass tubes, the same, the gemstone shards were tiny get-stuck-in-the-creases-of-fingertip slivers, leftover from gemcutting jewelers usually threw out, the weathering steel was something only mom and a few dwarves knew how to make. Finally, the pebbles were free because I asked a kid to take them from the stream. All in all, workmanship not included, the heating plate cost about twelve silver to make.

Of course, an enchanter of my caliber wouldn't move a finger for anything but a fat stack of platinum disks.

The first step was the lower plate. It had rune sequences to increase the durability and resilience of the finished product as well as self-repair. It would take an adamantite tool or weapon to break this thing.

I finished laying the parts on the flat lower plate, connected the enchanted Cores, made sure the gold thread coils were firm around the gem shards, then overlayed a resilience enchantment together with the finishing Permanency effect. The six Cores shone with a dim light as they started pumping weak streams of MP to the diamond in the center. I lowered the brass tube coil over the gold thread and pulled the excess thread out of the metal spiral. A cut and a bit of Fire magic later, the gold thread was tightly wounded around the whole enchantment.

The two Pebbles went next, into the notches on the front of the lower steel disk. The red one increased the temperature, and the white lowered it. I added a limiting rune sequence behind the red, limiting the heat to reasonable levels. Though the enchantment would protect the soft gold from melting, it had an upper limit because I didn't want to spend too much energy, raising the costs, on heat resistance and cooling.

Also, anyone touching a pebble would be granted a limited heat resistance buff. This dormant buff would protect from damage but not the pain of contacting something very hot and last for only a second after triggering. It lingered for two hours otherwise.

Finally, I prepared the upper plate. It had a raised center to fit the Cores and the brass spiral, and also shared the same buff-granting properties of the pebbles, but on proximity and no lingering option. If someone tried to touch the heated plate, they would feel the pain and flinch away with no damage done to them. This enchantment would also protect the food in a one-foot radius around the top from burning or charring.

To finish the top plate, I added a rune sequence to completely shield the enchanted pieces inside from external Mana flows and {Appraise} attempts. With that done, I joined the two and welded them together, finishing the global enchantment.

An enchanted item that would not register as enchanted, to either Arcane senses or System evaluation. It was as indifferent to Mana flows as any mundane item. It also worked in any place, except the Scavenger Gnome desert and its no-magic zone. Aside from heating up on its own without any physical process, the only way to tell this was enchanted was to either attempt to enchant it or damage the item and see it repair itself.

All my efforts into making the enchanted item as inconspicuous as possible fell flat because some joker was at the helm of the System.

[The Goddess' Blessed Heating Plate] - Indestructible.

Value: Priceless. Materials: Undisclosed.

- Created to display the Goddess' favor for the Ambrose family, this heating plate has many, many, many uses that do not relate to cooking.

> Soulbound to the Ambrose family.

> If lost or stolen, members of the Ambrose family can sense direction and distance to it. Whoever steals this item is afflicted by a random Minor Divine Curse until they return the object to their rightful owners.

> Can heat itself to temperatures up to 500ºC.

> Grants whoever is using the item Heat Immunity for the duration of use and 5 minutes afterward.

> Whoever hurts an Ambrose to obtain this item is affected by a random Moderate Divine Curse. In the case of murder, their entire bloodline earns the curse. These curses can only be lifted by direct intervention of the Goddess.

I could practically hear the Norse deity laughing.

Barbara immediately contacted me. She was home, studying on the [Lost Sage Encyclopedia].

I tried to sound innocent. No, wait, I was innocent!

I guess the plate counted as "lost" from the moment it was created.

I extended a ribbon and grabbed the plate.

> WARNING: For stealing this item, you are afflicted with a Divine Curse. Return it to its rightful owners!

> You are afflicted with {Curse of Paralysis}.

One, why is Paralysis a "minor" curse? Two, what the hell? I created the damn artifact. Which wasn't even supposed to be an artifact. I explained what happened to her.

She was laughing all the way from her home to the castle.