The Third Talent

"Shouldn't we hand something like this over to Lovrick instead? Aren't we supposed to give the Guild everything related to the cultists? If anyone catches us hiding evidence like this, they might mistake us for cultists ourselves."

I tore my gaze away from the jewel that kept pulling at my eyes. Come to think of it, this thing counted as evidence of a sort—which meant ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it could cause problems down the line.

Not that Noah could have missed that.

Yet she merely shrugged. "We'll turn it in tomorrow morning. We can simply say we forgot."

"Why go through all that trouble?"

"To show you, Jun. Doesn't it look remarkably similar to a magic stone? I picked it up on the chance that you might be able to absorb it as points."

"...Fair point. Let's take a look, then."

Honestly, I had zero desire to lay hands on that creepy stone—but Noah had gone out of her way for my sake, so I figured I'd give it a try. As usual, I set the magic stone on my palm.

A faint pulse throbbed against my skin.

Thump... thump...

It was like clutching a living, beating heart. Disgusting.

But even more overwhelming than the revulsion was the sheer pressure of the points packed inside. What was this thing?

I tried to gauge the amount of energy condensed at that insane density.

"...This is practically concentrate. I'd say close to 400 points."

Four hundred points.

I didn't believe my own number, so I checked it again and again—and got the same result every time. You could honestly call this thing a Point Stone rather than a magic stone.

Noah looked somewhat displeased at my aghast reaction. "400 points? ...I ran an experiment earlier, but this exceeded my projections."

"What the hell do those cult bastards carry in their hearts? Did they make this themselves?"

"Hmm... given that they implant them into their chests, that seems highly probable. But if that is true, then... an interesting hypothesis presents itself."

"At minimum, this god they worship must have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠something to do with points."

Noah nodded silently. "We simply slapped a frivolous name on it, but we've known for some time now that this unidentified energy called 'points' is far from ordinary."

"Right. It grants talents. What kind of absurd power even is that? But I'd always assumed it was energy only I could use..."

"By that logic, extracting points from monster magic stones wouldn't make sense either. I think it's better to understand points as one of the fundamental energies composing the world, like mana."

She had a point. If points could be drawn from magic stones, then looked at another way, part of what made up monsters was born from points.

So what exactly are points? Where did the [Priest] get something like this and implant it into his heart? The questions only multiplied.

"Speculating further won't get us past hypothesis stage. Let's do what we can."

"...Right. Let's just absorb it for points. Though this thing is definitely not a normal artifact—should we really?"

"That does concern me. Wasting 400 points would hurt. What should we do..."

We put our heads together for a while, but no clever solution surfaced. We simply had too little information.

Maybe I should sit on it until I learned more about the cultists? No. If someone discovered me holding this stone in the meantime...

I'd be hunted down as a cultist instead of a witch. The risk was far too high.

"Okay. I'm just going to absorb it."

"Are you certain?"

"The stone itself gives me the creeps, but the points at its core are pure energy. As long as I'm careful with everything else, I should be fine."

After much deliberation, I committed to absorbing the stone. In fairness, I'd absorbed magic stones harvested from monsters plenty of times before—there was no reason this would be different.

I closed my eyes and got to work.

"Hmm..."

This was a whole different league from absorbing ordinary magic stones. The points were packed so densely that even melting them down was a struggle. Worse still, the unpleasant residue clinging to the pure points proved fiendishly difficult to separate—like peeling the fine husk off individual grains of rice. Even so, after several dozen minutes of sweating, gritted-teeth concentration, I finally managed to dissolve the stone.

"Ugh."

"Something wrong?"

"No—something foreign mixed into the points. I failed to separate it completely... wait, what is this?"

My total now stood at 1,010 points. I was checking my status window and trying to settle my queasy stomach when ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I noticed something strange. Much like the instincts [Beast's Senses] fed me, there was an inexplicable pulling sensation.

"...What's this?"

That pull was pointing at several of the inactive talents in my status window. As if begging me to choose them.

When I explained, Noah floated an intriguing guess. "Since the stone came from the Priest... perhaps these are talents related to the techniques he used?"

"Oh, that tracks. Given the circumstances, that's probably it. But this never happened before—why only now?"

"One occurrence is far too small a sample to conclude anything. It may be that absorbing other high-grade magic stones would produce the same effect."

"True... everything until now was Rank 7 at best. Maybe I'll actually get to pick a direction for my talents going forward... Anyway, what are these talents?"

The points extracted from the blood-red stone pointed to several talents—and the priciest one cost a full 5,000 points. What could possibly be that expensive?

"At that price, it's likely related to life force."

"Hm? Why's that?"

"Among the Priest's techniques was a spell that drained prisoners' life force to heal and empower himself. That's what killed the prisoners used in his rituals."

"Life force, huh... so it'd tie into regeneration, too."

Now that one tempted me. But with Noah's medical care around, spending that much on regeneration felt wasteful. Besides, it was absurdly expensive—when would I ever scrape together 5,000 points?

"Just pick something reasonable."

"Yeah. I've got points to spare, so I'll restore one of the cheaper options. Though why is this one only 1,000 points...?"

As I went to select among the talents the pull had indicated, I noticed the pricing didn't add up. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It should have been 1,150 points—I'd spent an extra 150 picking out [Inner Heart] and [Beast's Senses]. But this talent sat at a flat 1,000. Every other 1,000-point talent was still showing 1,150.

"I have a rough idea why. Go ahead and restore it."

"Alright. It being cheap is no bad thing."

Information first—that was the plan. I manipulated the status window and restored the talent.

The mysterious energy mingled with the points from the crimson stone, flowing together as they seeped into my inner world.

Click.

Oh. Now that looks useful.

...

I meditated and studied my newly acquired talent. The sensation was abstract, but described game-style, it went like this:

"This feels less like a talent and more like..."

"A skill, wouldn't you say?"

"Exactly. Just like a game. And it's remarkably similar to that technique the [Knight] used. There are usage limits and a time cap, but it looks handy."

The Sword of Pain had been a nasty ability, but Lovrick, the old veteran, had endured it with astonishing fortitude. There could be people—or monsters—incapable of feeling pain at all. Being able to impart senses other than pain would broaden my tactical options considerably.

As I mulled over tactics to pair with the new power, Noah nodded along, apparently having predicted all of this. "Since this talent behaves like a skill rather than a physical trait, it likely required no extra points. It also shouldn't affect the pricing of your existing talents."

"Ah. Because it doesn't burden the body?"

"Precisely. Though that may change if you acquire other skills."

At Noah's explanation, I glanced at the talent prices again. The surcharge was still a flat 150.

Hmm. One problem, though.

"The pull is gone. Looks like I only got the one chance."

The guiding sensation the Priest's stone had offered had vanished. I'd been hoping to buy that 5,000-point talent too—what a shame.

"It was a limited opportunity, apparently. It's possible the talents the stone revealed weren't even on the original list."

"They were all in broken script, so I can barely remember them... Well, I got a useful talent, so no complaints!"

"Forgive me for pouring cold water on this, but Sensory Impartation must not be used recklessly. Inflicting pain especially."

"...Right. Mishandled, I could get mistaken for a cultist."

Sneakily would be fine, though. And against monsters, I could go all out. Plenty of restrictions, but still—a great talent!

...

One week later.

Clatter, clatter...

The villagers who'd fallen victim to the cultists had joined our party, and together we set out for Bolston. With the wagon seats now full, we each had to walk a few hours a day—but at my current level, that hardly counted as hardship. If anything, it was a blessing; the former captives had endless stories to share.

I heard a curious detail about the incident from one grandfather in particular, a born storyteller.

"...They weren't the only ones?"

"Nope. There were already others in that cave where they dragged us. Seems they didn't see eye to eye, either—they even fought. They left the cave just a day before you lot showed up. Must not've been in my right mind, eh, taking this long to mention it."

"Likely cultists from a different faction. A further investigation will be required."

Harrington, walking alongside us, abruptly cut into the conversation. His complexion had been bright ever since we routed the cultists and rescued the villagers—he'd even given up the gold coins he was owed to share among the party, yet he still looked positively cheerful. Was the man secretly rich?

"A different faction?"

"As of now, four unidentified entities are known to be worshipped as gods by the cultists: [Pain], [Darkness], [Mystery], and [Passion]. They generally get along poorly, though they do cooperate from time to time."

"Leaving Pain aside, those aren't such terrible names, are they?"

Darkness, fair enough—but Mystery or Passion could pass for benevolent deities, honestly. Though the unwritten rule was that evil gods were supposed to come spouting the seven deadly sins. Something felt all over the place here.

"The names exist only to caution against excessive fear among the populace. Once you've seen what their devotees actually do, you won't be saying that."

"You seem to know a great deal about the heretic cults. Leading the subjugation yourself, on top of it."

"...A few things happened in my past. Anyway, that's beside the point—we're nearly at Bolston. You have that recommendation card from Alta, yes? Hand it to me for a moment. Miss Noah's as well."

"?"

At his request, I fished out Noah's card along with mine and passed them over. Harrington fiddled with the golden recommendation cards, scribbling something with an elegant quill, then handed them back. Not a trace of writing anywhere.

"Once I return to duty, I'll be tied up for some time, so I won't be able to visit the Guild for a while. I've recorded your achievements into the recommendation cards. The Guild clerks will factor them in automatically."

"Oh... thank you."

"Don't mention it. It's simply what your deeds deserve. If anything, I consider it slightly insufficient."

Good man, this one. Come to think of it, he was also the one who'd cajoled and soothed the mercenaries and merchants who didn't want to walk, making room for the villagers. I'd written him off as meek based on his first impression back at the Pioneer Village, but when it came to matters he'd decided on, he was remarkably decisive.

"Without your efforts, I might well have ended up a sacrifice in that cave myself. Allow me to treat you all to a fine meal sometime."

"You're not just saying that, are you?"

"Of course not. Ah—there's Bolston now. We've arrived at last."

Harrington stretched out his arm and pointed into the distance. Between mounds of snow that had yet to melt, part of an immense city peeked through.

About time.