The Golden Key

When you meant to raise your realm, you found a safe place first.

Was a ship's cabin safe?

Hardly—not when anyone could walk in. In the worst case, an enemy might come storming through the door.

Doltan's warning had fixed that caution in Chris's mind, but today he set it aside and threw himself into training. The ship lay far out on the open sea, where an outside enemy would struggle to reach him, and he had publicly executed two Seed Cultivation mages, so no passenger would dare come looking. He took those two facts as grounds enough for optimism.

Chris drew on the mana stones Doltan had paid him for the goods and drank in their mana. Wood-attribute mana bled from the highest-grade stones and was spent completing a ring, while mana of the other attributes turned to magical power and seeped into his Thought Space. Since he had stepped into Ring Binding, that space had widened, and it could hold far more power than before.

He worked a full day without rest and finished the first ring completely. Riding that momentum, he tried to weave a second—and felt only a hollow emptiness.

If he had forced the matter on the very day he reached Ring Binding, would the second ring have formed?

He put the question to himself.

Perhaps. But he'd had no mana stones then, so it had been impossible, and the mana around him had been thin besides. No use clinging to it.

Chris got to his feet. He was rising to head for the dining hall when an ominous force swept the ship and shook it.

Willpower.

His eyes flew open. A Ring Binding mage had just released mental force.

Don't tell me. Pursuers?

He rushed up onto the deck. A sleek sailing ship was closing at speed, driven by a magically raised wind, its sails swollen as if they might burst.

"Sid! You're in there!"

"David, come out!"

"Found you at last!"

Julien, Stan, and Hal shouted at the same time. Abas and Doltan came to Chris's side, both faces set hard as stone.

"Why are they looking for two people?"

Abas looked at him.

"Weren't they chasing you?"

Willpower swept the ship again.

"Found you. At last."

Perez's voice was a rasp. Chris saw the blackened foot the man was holding out, and his face twisted as if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he'd just stubbed a toe on a threshold.

My foot?

The strange sense of kinship said it was. So that was how they had tracked him. No wonder Stan had been so sure of himself.

"Heave to!"

Shay's bellow rolled across the water. Abas turned to the captain.

"We'd better stop the ship."

The captain furled the sails, and their speed fell off sharply.

Chris thought it through. If they had tracked him through that foot, a changed face would not hide him. The foot had to be destroyed. He bit his lip and studied the ship that carried his pursuers.

Perez. Daryl. Stan. Julien. Hal. Shay.

Six Ring Binding mages. His chances of winning a fight with them converged on zero. Flight was the best option, and flight looked impossible. The open sea offered nowhere to hide.

Damn it.

The situation was hopeless. Even so, it was not something he could give up. Chris drew a long breath and shot up the mast.

Julien rubbed his earlobe.

"Well, look at that. Your face really did change."

Chris dipped his head.

"It's nothing special."

He pointed at Stan and went on.

"That mage isn't wearing his own face either."

Stan ground his teeth.

"I'll hold you to account for killing Sid and David."

"David belonged to Mickclonia Magic Tower. Why is Hermann Magic Tower the one pressing the charge? If anyone ought to, it's Mick Tower."

Chris looked to Tower Master Hal of Mick Magic Tower.

"David was a spy Hermann sent. Why aren't you holding Hermann responsible?"

"That's for later. First, you die."

Chris cast his words around the deck.

"Mage Daryl. You look radiant. It seems the Motaro I gave you let you weave one more ring."

Daryl's smile was thin.

"So you did weave it. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠upper ranks now?"

Her smile deepened.

"A 7-Ring, then."

Chris clapped once and bowed his head.

"My sincere congratulations."

Then he rubbed his hands together.

"We made a good trade. There's no reason for us to fight."

Daryl shook her head.

"I've no grudge against you. But this is something the three great towers agreed on, and I can't go against it. Surrender, and I'll kill you cleanly. I can grant you that much regard."

"While you're granting favors, grant a few more."

Chris smiled bitterly and looked at Julien. The other towers had sent several people. Hermann, Stan's tower, had sent the most—nine mages stood ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in attendance behind him. Two more stood behind Shay of Rafunian. Behind Julien there was no one. He was the only mage Tuleno Magic Tower had produced.

"You're alone, Master Julien. Why did you come by yourself?"

"Paying for my sins."

"And what sin was that?"

"Running my mouth at you."

"Chasing me is the punishment?"

"That's right."

"You don't look well."

Julien sniffled.

"I'm not well."

"Back then you said you didn't have long left. And yet here you are."

"A few cheap tricks."

"A trick that lengthens a life shouldn't be called cheap."

Julien did not amend the word.

"Cheap is the right word."

"Then you could teach it to me."

"Listen to the nonsense out of a man about to die."

Chris put on a bluff.

"If you kill me, you'll regret it."

Perez's gaze went savage.

"Regret it later if you like. A man who needs killing still gets killed."

"Don't give him a clean death."

Chris let out a short laugh.

"Not cleanly? So you'll kill me ugly?"

"I'll tear your mouth so you can't play word games anymore."

Stan shook his staff. Light flashed before it, a crackling hiss spilled out as if something were being seared, and lightning took shape. The bolt he made was thick as a fist, and it swallowed the hundred paces between the two ships in a single breath.

Chris kicked off the mast and flew clear. The lightning passed through the space he had left, then wheeled and came for his back. He climbed higher and slipped it. It came again. He rose once more, and this time the bolt seemed to shear through where he had been—until it bent at a right angle and shot upward. Halfway there it split. One fork drove for the inside of his groin. The other turned twice and aimed for the pit of his stomach.

There was a limit to dodging lightning with flight magic. Chris formed a barrier beneath his feet, meaning to stop the groin-shot first. The bolt headed for his stomach had changed course twice, so he still had a little time.

The lower bolt struck the barrier and spread across it in a crawling crackle. Once it had stained the barrier, it tried to treat that barrier as a cloud and fire a fresh bolt inward. The lightning seemed to possess a mind of its own, and to be choosing its attacks.

The old bastard is no ordinary man.

Chris left a layer of air between them and raised another barrier to catch the bolt leaping back up. That left him nothing to spare for the one closing on his stomach.

Damn it.

In that instant he understood exactly how Mahal had felt. He reached into the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠small bag at his waist for a special Explosion Orb, and his hand shook because he hated to spend it.

Hoard it, and it turns to shit.

He hurled the thought through himself, poured magical power into the orb, and threw.

The special Explosion Orb burst. Lightning leapt free, tangled with Stan's, and the two bolts writhed together until they wiped each other out.

"Hmph."

Stan snorted, formed another bolt, and fired. His lightning was far faster than Chris's flight magic. The distance collapsed in a flash. The barrier Chris flung up in desperation broke layer after layer, and the bolt punched through.

How do I stop that?

A good idea struck him. He yanked the magic safe from the bag and thrust it out in front of him.

The lightning hit the safe dead on. True to a safe famous for its hardness, it held. Magical power must have been worked into the metal; for all that it was metal, it did not conduct.

Stan snorted.

"You think a magic safe can stop my lightning?"

Chris smiled, purely to infuriate him.

"It is stopping it."

Stan's mouth twisted.

"I'll scorch those lips of yours."

He formed lightning and fired. Then he fired again, and again. Bolt after bolt hammered the magic safe, and with every strike the lightning grew thicker and brighter, until it was too blinding to look at.

Abas muttered.

"They say they're looking for Sid and David, then turn around and accuse him of killing both. What kind of sense is that?"

"A complicated story seems to be tangled up in it."

"How complicated, that Grant Kingdom's three great towers and Albar Kingdom's Tuleno Magic Tower joined hands?"

The two of them were desperately curious.

Watching the magic safe hold back the lightning that Stan, a 5-Ring, was pouring out with everything he had, Perez spoke.

"Solid safe."

Daryl nodded.

"It is. Well made."

"There'll be treasure inside."

"Could be a bust."

Plenty of mages liked to play games with magic safes. They opened one, took the treasure, stuffed rocks inside, locked it, and sold it at a handsome price. After that trick had been repeated often enough, magic safes—once traded at tremendous prices—had lost a great deal of their value.

Julien yawned.

"Tedious. Finish it already."

Stan shot him a sidelong glare.

"I'm the one shoveling the shit you dropped. Show some manners."

"I told you before. All of this happened because your Children of the Mask pulled some idiot stunt. Don't blame me."

"Our fault, is it?"

"How else could that wretch have fooled us? He changed his face with a mask."

Shay looked at Stan.

"Quit glancing around and finish it."

Stan had no shortage of complaints about Julien's claim, but he took Shay's words and dumped magical power into the spell. The lightning grew fiercer still.

Chris was in agony. Lightning washed over the safe and scorched his whole body. The bolt below still had not vanished, for all the time that had passed, and it kept prowling for his groin. Stan seemed to be maintaining it with deliberate care.

Damn it.

He climbed on a slant, trying first to shake the lower bolt. He wanted it to lose its target and gutter out. Instead it finally smashed the double barrier, rose, and joined the lightning hammering the safe. The bolt turned more vicious, like a hunting dog thrashing to snap its leash.

The rim of the magic safe—the leash that had been holding the lightning—began to crumble. At the auction, the fat man and the skinny one had claimed that only an upper-rank Ring Binding mage could break the safe. They had exaggerated, it seemed, to keep anyone else from bidding.

If the safe breaks, I'm finished.

Chris took wood-attribute mana for a core, layered earth-attribute mana over it, and formed a shield of magical power. He wedged that shield between the safe and the lightning.

The mana shield was pierced at once.

"This is the end!"

Stan drew out a still greater force and granted it to the lightning.

The safe could hold no longer. It shattered, and a yellowish object burst from inside. The object struck Chris first. The lightning crashed in behind it.

The necklace at his throat crumbled. Bought at a steep price at the auction, it had done its part in full. Without it, he would have been gravely wounded.

Smoke hissed off his body. The necklace had not stopped every bolt. Some of the lightning had landed on him.

Before the object that had flown from the safe and struck his chest could fall, he caught it. It resembled the key he had used when he left the Horace Ruins. Only the color was different.