Dance of Guns and Swords (2)

The soul is a vessel that holds mana. This is the first lesson every seeker of the mysteries learns, whether warrior or mage alike.

They each take in the ambient ki floating through the air in a form suited to them, stacking it layer by layer within their souls. For only a spiritual substance like the soul can store non-material energy.

But.

The problem is my soul can no longer serve as that vessel.

A soul torn to shreds and broken couldn't fulfill its role properly. In other words, it couldn't store aura. It was barely maintaining its shape through the power of the Radiant Sword, nothing more.

What would happen if you poured water into a cracked vessel on the verge of shattering? Naturally, it wouldn't hold and would break apart.

But what if...

In this situation, what if I allocated stat points to mana?

This is gonna fuck me up, isn't it? I concluded cautiously.

This is fucked. Fifty-fifty chance of it being totally fucked.

If even a single drop of aura touched my soul right now, the precarious balance would collapse immediately—odds were high.

The key was how investing points in the [Mana] stat would increase aura. Would it just poof! generate aura inside my soul? Or would a corresponding amount seep in from outside?

If the former, I'd die. If the latter, I'd live.

Aura flowing in from outside wouldn't pierce the soul seal enforced by the Radiant Sword. I could block it with my will, too.

But if it was the former...

Yeah, instant death.

I scratched my head. This was the biggest worry when I first started Asteria Online.

Continent's destruction? Main quest? Fine, whatever. But to stop that shit, I needed power, right?

Yet in this state, endlessly fallen and unable even to use aura, there were limits.

No matter how brilliant my swordsmanship or how exalted my past realm, so what? Technique can only bridge power gaps so far. If raw specs fall short, even I can't do shit.

I do need aura, though...

Hmm, maybe just try one point first?

Thinking about it, this whole setup screamed system design. The sequence from returning to Earth, then coming back to Asteria as a game—it all felt orchestrated.

It knew I was terminal. It knew I couldn't use aura.

If it wanted me for some role, it'd have prepped a solution.

What if it goes wrong? Then I die, duh.

Terminal life anyway—dying a bit sooner? Whatever.

...Kidding. No huge attachment to life, but dying now would suck. Just calculating odds, death seemed unlikely.

Nothing comes from nothing. Better chance ambient mana accumulates naturally than aura poofing! into existence inside my soul.

Decision made, my hand moved.

The stat rose, and I focused ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my mind.

How would the aura move? How would the stat apply to my body?

Vrrr...

Mana in the air outside my body reacted. It was drawn inward like it had gained attraction, without any aura ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cultivation method or my will guiding it.

Whew, dodged instant death. But damn, what's the principle here...?

As I pondered, the mana-converted aura tried to enter my soul but bounced off.

Thanks to the Radiant Sword's seal, as expected.

So what now? Stat went up, but if it doesn't apply...?

Then, system alerts scrolled before my eyes.

Spirit Particle Force?

First I'd heard of it. Me, of all people, hearing of a new energy source—what the hell...?

And then.

Shrrk.

The purest [power] imaginable seeped into my avatar. Something even more primal and pure than mana, the foundation of all mysteries.

It soon formed a spiritual 'vessel'. Another container for aura, separate from my soul.

A minuscule amount of aura—corresponding to 1 stat point—slowly filled it.

"... "

I opened my eyes, sensing the vividly rising aura, barely suppressing my shock.

Is this Spirit Particle Force? A power even I had never experienced.

Purity-wise... it evoked divine power.

More than that.

Was this even possible?

A power that could substitute for the soul's role? Aura, ki, holy power, black mana—none could form a 'vessel' like the soul.

Can water hold water? Can fire contain fire? Processed mystical energies couldn't serve as vessels; it defied logic.

Won't heal the soul, though...

Similar in nature, but no panacea like divine power. Couldn't fix my terminal fate.

Swallowing my regret, I dumped all remaining points into mana. Priority was boosting aura volume now. Physical deficiencies could be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shored up via aura reinforcement.

"... "

As I closed my eyes to sense the surging aura—

Bang—crack!

A thunder-like sound from outside, followed by commotion.

"What the...?"

I opened my eyes, frowning. Sounded familiar, but couldn't place it. Like something from ancient memory.

Ignore it? But unease nagged.

Fine.

I stood and headed out.

Bang—crack!

A gunshot felled an NPC. The man wielding the assault rifle AK-47 grinned in satisfaction.

"This is why I love Asteria Online."

No real-world punishment for killing. Just data blobs, NPCs.

Real life? Too many constraints. Advanced tech made perfect crimes a fairy tale; absent warzones, murder was rare.

But here? Endless killing opportunities in this near-real world.

Sure, death penalties multiplied, massive bounties drew player hunters—but no real-world consequences.

Those NPCs crumpling under his bullets? Pure ecstasy. Death rattles, flowing blood, pained groans—all hyper-realistic.

AI performance is scary good, he thought.

"Alright, finish up before the guards and knights arrive."

Couldn't neglect business for hobbies. He headed lightly to his target: the warrior training hall.

Rumor had it a Sword Tower swordsman taught there. His subordinate/junior was sniping from afar by now.

Step.

Passing terrified NPCs, the training hall door stood ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wide open. As he crossed the threshold into the yard, players' eyes locked on him.

"That test earlier—was it rigged? Doesn't make sense otherwise... Huh? A gun?"

"Wait, no way..."

"That fucker's a red player! How'd he get into town?!"

A player spotted the red marker above his head and yelled.

Click!

"Snuck in, obviously. How else?"

He pulled the trigger at the last yeller.

Bang!

Philip suddenly blocked the bullet head-on. An aura barrier rippled around his body—protective ki, for Experts and above.

"What is the meaning of this, young man?"

Philip's low, grave question met a leisurely grin. "The key to the dungeon left by the previous Sword Saint, Yuriel Saint Arcadia. You have it, right?"

"...!"

"Hand over the key. I'll leave peacefully."

At mention of the Sword Saint's dungeon, players' eyes widened. Philip glared coldly.

"No idea where you heard that, but I refuse. No key for a clueless pup like you."

"...Is that so? Think it over after a bit."

Negotiations failed. He fired again, the lead slug breaking the sound barrier—

Not at Philip's barrier, but toward citizens outside the hall.

That motherfucker?!

The moment Yuri burst from the guest room, sensing the uproar.