The Gate Traveler

After three days of moping around, I went back to doing stuff. When I first saw the description of Creativity at level 50, my looting spells immediately came to mind. I opened the description and re-read the relevant part.

I needed to find a solution for the high mana cost and for the missing progression aspect. The first spell I examined was the mana crystals' spell, but nothing came to mind. There was no way to lower the mana cost, and I still didn't have even a sliver of an idea regarding the progression. Sighing, I stored the parchment and took out the snake looting spell.

It took me less than a second, staring at the spell, to facepalm and mumble, "I'm an idiot."

Well, at least I had a solution for lowering the mana cost. The spell had a lot of If/Then conditions for the various parts harvested from snakes. All my spell marbles had those conditions. But now, looking at the spell, I realized I had gone overboard with them. It was quite embarrassing to see. Yes, I appreciated the help that Creativity gave me, but it was still embarrassing. How the hell didn't I see it earlier?

Each If/Then condition cost mana. I wasn't sure how much, but at least 20 units, maybe even 30. And here, on the parchment, I had a shit ton of them. Every possible outcome, every variation I could think of, was neatly encoded in spell logic that drained mana like a leaky faucet.

The problem was, I had never seen a snake slithering around naked, for example. So … there was no reason to include that condition. The skin removal itself cost less mana, maybe even half. So, even if the skin was worthless, it was better to peel the snake and leave the skin behind. No harm done and less mana wasted.

Same goes for fangs, heart, and liver. Things every snake had, without exception. I rubbed my face in embarrassment, sighed again—this time deeply and with a lot of sorrow—and took out the herbivores spell.

The same shit. All of them have skin, hooves, and innards at least. I stared at the parchment for a few seconds, trying not to groan out loud.

Yeah… I had a long way to go in spell formulation.

To save myself a heightened dose of mortification, I didn't look at the other spells. It's best to feel like an idiot in small doses. Easier to digest. With those "optimistic" thoughts, I took out a new piece of parchment and got to work, formulating a new spell for non-nudist snakes.

I worked for a few hours, planning the new spell. Since I had removed the excessive conditions, I needed to replace them with proper connections to guide the mana flow. Without those, the spell would be unbalanced. Too much mana could build up in certain areas, causing something like a magical short circuit, while too little in others could lead to a collapse or a failed activation.

It was like rewiring a system where every part needed just the right amount of power at the right moment, and I was still figuring out how to keep everything stable.

On top of that, I was doing most of the work in magic script and using runes only for structural stability. That meant I had to redraw the whole thing a couple of times, simply because magic script needed far more signs to express the same function. It was like working with a flexible puzzle, where every piece had to fit in a specific way, depending on the desired outcome and the shape of the spell marble.

And no, I couldn't just use runes. First, I didn't know the exact ones I needed for that specific action. And second, runes were rigid. Each one performed a single, fixed function. Magic script, on the other hand, thanks to its "puzzle personality," was far more flexible. It could adapt, at least a little, even to non-standard shapes, like the concave interior of a spell marble.

"John, come here for a moment," Al called from the helm.

I walked out and looked at him. He pointed to the left bank. A sizeable group of people was running along the shore in our direction, glancing back every few seconds like they were fleeing from something.

I immediately looked up at the sky, but there was no flying ship in sight. So, not a bombing from above. I couldn't see what they were running from, though. The shoreline curved around a rock outcropping, and the area was thick with tall bushes that blocked the view.

Something flew at the group, and one person fell. I heard his shout of pain, followed by wails of fear from the others. We exchanged glances, and Al shut down the engine and pressed the anchor release button. Mahya and I rushed to close the sails.

"What the fuck?" Mahya shouted.

I peeked from behind the sail I was folding and stared. Emperor penguins chased the fleeing people. Real emperor penguins. Same size, black and white suits, and waddling shuffle.

Except they shuffled about five times faster.

One of them lifted its... hand? Wing? And shot something at the people. I focused my eyes. It was a thin, long, sharp white object. An ice shard? Or a needle? That would fit the theme.

This time, the person managed to jump out of the way in time, and the needle zipped past.

"Watch over the boat," I told Rue.

He gave a sharp nod and planted himself by the helm like a shaggy statue with bristling fur.

I kicked off the deck and soared toward the shore, Mahya and Al flying behind me on their swords. We split midair. I veered toward the fleeing people, while they curved off toward the penguins.

"I'm a healer," I called, voice amplified with a touch of mana. "Anybody need help?"

The group skidded to a stop, hesitating for only a second before several of them stumbled toward me. Most had clothes stained with blood. A few dragged injured companions. Many had deep gashes rimmed with frostbitten skin. Some were shivering, others crying, one clutching a child who wasn't moving. Thankfully, the kid returned to us after a single cast of Healing Touch. I didn't even bother to diagnose him.

I knelt by the next woman, and this time cast Diagnose. Deep laceration to the thigh, with surrounding flesh necrotic from cold. I pressed my hands to the wound and cast Healing Touch. The cut sealed smoothly, but the blackened ring of frozen tissue remained untouched.

Another man limped forward, bleeding from his shoulder. Same problem. A clean slice surrounded by icy, dead flesh. Heal Muscle helped the inner tear. Stop Bleeding did its part. But Healing Touch again refused to fix what was already too far gone. I tried Fortify Life Force, hoping it might jumpstart the damaged tissue. No luck.

Across the field, I caught flashes of movement. Al stood with his shield raised, his sword catching the light as it swept through the air. Ice needles shattered against the shield. Each time a penguin closed in, he took its head off.

Mahya, on the other hand, was a blur. She darted through the field, her sword slicing clean through one penguin after another. She jumped, flipped, and twisted to get into position for the next strike. A wing flared toward her, launching a shard of ice. She bent backwards mid-leap, the shard flying harmlessly past. Then her sword arced up, severing the wing clean.

I turned back to the injured.

The frozen flesh couldn't be saved. That much was clear now. I finished treating what I could, then stood up and took out my treatment table, unfolding it quickly beside the group.

"I can't heal the frozen parts," I told them, raising my voice so they could all hear. "The healthy tissue can be repaired, but the frostbitten flesh is dead. It has to be cut away."

A few gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd.

"It won't hurt," I added, holding up my hands. "I'll put you to sleep and you won't feel a thing. And once it's gone, I'll regrow the healthy tissue. It's going to take a bit of time, but it's safe."

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Some still looked hesitant.

I patted the table and nodded to the nearest man, a tall guy with a torn sleeve and a purple ring of frozen skin around his upper arm. "All right. You first. Climb up."

He swallowed hard, then climbed onto the table without a word. I placed a steady hand on his arm, cast Anesthesia, and waited until the tension in his shoulders eased before reaching for my scalpel.

Carefully, I used my scalpel to carve away the dead flesh, working in shallow, deliberate slices, then used Regrow Flesh to rebuild what I had removed. The spell took time and mana, but it worked. Warm color crept back into the skin. The operation took about ten minutes and was successful. By the time I was done with the first person, Mahya and Al had finished off the penguins.

I repeated the process, one after another. Diagnose. Anesthesia. Cut. Regrow Flesh. Fortify Life Force to help them recover faster.

"Where did the penguins come from?" Mahya asked, raising her voice to address the group.

Most of them stared at her blankly, confusion written across their faces.

She gestured broadly toward the field behind her. "The creatures. The waddling murder birds."

That seemed to jog something. An older man stepped forward, his clothes torn and muddy, a deep scratch across one cheek. He looked like someone's grandfather who'd been dragged through a bush backward.

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then scratched his nose and fidgeted. "Uh… right. The, um… the penguins, yes. So, about ten days back, a portal opened near our village. Not in the village, but close. Maybe an hour's walk, more if the cart's loaded. We sent word to the guild. They keep a runner, or—no, wait, we went through the lumber outpost first. Right. Anyway, we let them know."

He blinked, frowned, then kept going. "But because of the war … well, you know, things are slow, people short on hands. It was just a white portal, so they said it wasn't urgent. White's supposed to be safe."

He shifted his weight and scratched his chin, eyes darting between us. "Then this morning, it changed. Color shifted to yellow. That's bad. That's when things start crawling out. Or waddling, I guess."

He waved vaguely toward the hills, then continued, "I was in the shed, feeding the goats. Not my goats, actually, they belong to my neighbor's cousin, but he's away fighting. Anyway, my kid came running and told me it changed color. I ran inside, called to my wife—she was kneading bread with flour everywhere, I told her to grab the kids and the blankets and some toys. She didn't hear me the first time, so I had to shout."

He gave a weak laugh, shaking his head. "She thought I was being dramatic. But I told her that when a portal changes color, it's a bad sign. That's when the portal starts acting strange. Last time a portal in Water Song went yellow, we got a burst of flying ants the size of plates that reached even us and ate some plants from the fields and had a paralyzing sting."

He rubbed his chin again, squinting at the dead creatures. "We ran. Tried to get ahead of the, uh… the upgrade break, I think it's called? When the portal jumps to the next tier. Anyway. We ran. Some folks tripped, and then those things started shooting ice, so… yeah."

His voice dropped a little as he added, "Didn't think it'd be birds. Thought it'd be snakes or bugs or something. Not birds with ice knives."

He looked at Mahya, then at me, then shrugged helplessly. "Anyway. That's what happened."

"Should we close the Occurrence?" Al asked telepathically, his gaze sweeping the treeline as if expecting more penguins to pop out.

Mahya stepped up to one of the fallen creatures, her boots crunching on the frost-covered grass. She stared at the heap of bodies, her nose wrinkling in clear disgust. "I'm not sure I want to eat penguins," she said, nudging one with the tip of her boot.

I folded my arms and tilted my head toward the villagers. "On top of the food, we got a lot of other stuff from the portal in Zindor. Besides, if the guild doesn't have time, those people are in danger," I pointed out, nodding toward the group still huddled nearby.

Mahya looked at me, brow furrowed, eyes narrowing slightly. After a moment, she asked out loud, "You're up for fighting?"

I gave a slow shrug and exhaled. "Not really, but it's better than leaving a dangerous portal near innocent people."

She nodded without another word, turned, and flew back to the boat. A minute later, the boat vanished into Storage.

That got a reaction from the villagers. A few gasped. One woman dropped the bundle she was holding, and several others exchanged wide-eyed looks. A child tugged at his mother's sleeve, pointing with his mouth hanging open.

Then Rue came flying over from the boat. When he reached the group and sat beside me, towering over the villagers like a shaggy statue, the reaction was even more exaggerated. Someone yelped. Another took a step back. An older man made the warding sign with trembling fingers. The same child who had pointed at the boat now clung to his mother's leg, peeking from behind her skirt with wide eyes.

"Don't worry," I said, patting Rue's side. "He's with us."

The villagers started tossing the dead penguins into the river. The same man who had spoken with me earlier noticed me watching, shrugged, and said, "For the fish."

Mahya stepped forward and addressed the villagers. "We'll help with the portal."

There were murmurs of relief, a few grateful nods, and one older woman hugged herself and whispered something under her breath. We stayed to help with the last of the cleanup, tossing the remaining penguin corpses into the river alongside the villagers. The water splashed and churned as the heavy bodies hit the surface and slowly drifted away.

Once the work was done, a man with a weathered coat and a limp motioned for us to follow. The villagers gathered what little they had and led us along a narrow path that curved between frostbitten trees and muddy fields, toward the village nestled beyond the hills.

I fell into step beside Mahya and Al, watching Rue lope ahead with the kids.

"I hope this one won't take six months to clear," I said.

Al glanced over. "Do not worry," he said. "The Occurrence in Zindor had been active for over thirty years. It had time to grow in power and expand."

He gestured toward the low ridge in the distance. "This one appeared ten days ago. It should be small."

On the way, we ran into a few more penguins, and a few more were lurking in the village. Mahya took care of them almost as fast as we could register their presence. Out of more than ten, only one managed to fire an ice needle, and it missed her by meters.

The portal was relatively small and more white than yellow. Yellowish-beige, maybe?

Inside, the temperature dropped like we'd stepped into a freezer. At least Al was right about the size. It was a few hundred square meters in area. Frost coated everything: twisting trees with icicle thorns, flowers shaped like screaming faces, and clouds of floating snowflakes that hovered a few centimeters above the ground, hissing softly when disturbed. The ground was a patchy mix of ice and moss, but the moss pulsed faintly, as if it were breathing.

A line of emperor penguins waddled around in a slow circle near the center of the Occurrence, each wearing what looked like a skinned squirrel, with its head and feet dangling over the penguin's face. Weird stuff. They squawked in unison like a rhythmic chant that made the surrounding air pulse.

Behind them, things got weirder.

A centipede made entirely of frozen fish skeletons slithered through the snow, its spine clicking in time with the penguins' chanting. A headless moose covered in shaggy white fur and stitched-together arms tosses at us huge shrimps that shot small icicles. And perched on a chunk of floating ice was a creature shaped like a seal, except it had bird wings and one enormous eye that never blinked.

Rue growled low in his throat and charged the nearest penguin.

Chomp.

He stopped mid-bite, went still, then slowly pulled back and spat chunks of black feathers and slime onto the ground. "Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!"

His next attack launched a wind blade that cleaved straight through the penguin.

Mahya didn't even wait. She dashed into the middle of the waddling line, slicing through three before they noticed. The squirrel pelts flew off like startled birds. One penguin raised both wings and squawked something before she removed its head in one clean stroke. The fish-centipede tried to attack her a few times, but she was too fast for it.

Al walked into the mess calmly, shield raised, sword flashing. Frozen shrimp-arrows clattered off his shield as he bisected a two-headed arctic fox that had antlers and whistled between attacks.

When the last penguin fell, the centipede fell apart. The thought, "that was easy," had just finished flashing through my mind when all the frozen fish it was made of jumped up and streaked toward us through the air. They didn't exactly fly. It was more of a strong push with the tail that shot them at us. Also, the strange seal on the ice chunk began floating around and shooting icicles out of its eye. Spirits, this place was so weird.

I stayed near the edge and cut down anything that tried to circle us. In this environment, I didn't use lightning. With all the ice around, the conductivity worried me. And considering the size of the spawnies, my swords did the job just fine. It was the first time I really got to use my newly upgraded swords, and it was unbelievable. They felt like an extension of my hands. A couple of times, I shot wind blades at floating ice-shrimps, and the spell passed through the sword like a conduit, amplifying as it went. Amazing.

Payan was a disappointment as a woman, but one hell of a crafter. I had to give her her due and salute her expertise.

It took less than an hour. By the time we were done, the Occurrence was littered with shattered bodies and melting snow. I also had a lot of questions. So many questions.

Rue sniffed one of the last penguins, then gave it a wide berth.

Mahya wiped her blade clean, noticed my expression, and chuckled. "That was… honestly, not the weirdest portal I've been in."

We took a few minutes to examine all the spawnies, and the only valuable resource turned out to be the furs of the two-headed foxes. The rest didn't look valuable or appetizing.

Then the ground rumbled.

A deep vibration rolled through the ice-covered terrain, and a shape began to rise slowly from beneath the surface—tall, hulking, and entirely wrong.

It was another penguin. Sort of. But this one stood over three meters tall, covered in glistening ice armor with jagged icicles for feathers and eyes that burned with a cold, hateful light. It opened its beak and let out a distorted shriek, part squawk, part roar.

"Well. There's the final boss," I said.

"We'll hold it," Mahya said, already stepping forward. "Finish collecting the furs."

The fight didn't last long.

Mahya darted between its stomping feet, slashing at the joints while Al blocked a flurry of ice spikes with his shield. Rue stayed airborne, circling and peppering it with Wind Blades, growling to himself the whole time. I caught one of its blasts with a shield spell and retaliated with a burst of lightning, in between casting the loot spell on the foxes.

Mahya and Al kept an eye on my progress. When I was done, Al's sword plunged into the monster's chest with a burst of white light. It let out one last screech and collapsed into a pile of cracked ice and feathers.

At that exact moment, the crystal beneath the monster's feet flickered and shattered.

A high-pitched whine filled the air. The space around us began to warp, the frost turning to steam, the edges of the world trembling.

"Time to go!" I shouted, turning toward the exit.

Rue didn't wait for instructions. He was already halfway out. Mahya sheathed her blade and followed, Al right behind her.

Behind us, the Occurrence began collapsing in on itself, folding like paper, the portal flickering erratically.

We made it out just before the whole thing imploded, leaving behind a steaming patch of grass, a faint ripple in the air, and silence. Thankfully, this time we cleared everything inside, so nothing followed us out.

We rested on the grass for a while, laughed a bit about the insanity inside, then notified the village that the portal was closed and went back to the river. All in all, it was an interesting side quest.