PreCursive

  It was only by the flickering light of the mp in my room that I could see at all.

  But…that was fihese days. Ever since my transformation at the tail end of the Elderwyck campaign, my eyes had been altered by the curse of the Rhazal the Harrower. They were more sensitive now, and it was far easier to see in low illumination. But as a sequehey glowed ever so slightly through the dark of my study, though thankfully not enough to cast their own light.

  I had actually grown to enjoy dimmer light, in those months since I and my patriots had fled the Herztalian Civil War.

  Thankfully, none of that prevented me from enjoying my hobby. With as stressed and fraught as I had been, just after we had nded on the shores of Kawamara, I’d needed something to distract myself. I hadn’t wao practiy of my martial skills or Skills, sihey reminded me of the flict I had gone so far to escape. At the time, I hadn’t wao learn any true Magic either, despite the fact I had just gohrough my Assion Ritual. As wondrous as I had found possessing my own decidedly odd Mana had proven itself to be, I knew…

  Well.

  I had just needed a break, that’s all.

  That feeling towards Magic had faded with time, but I'd still picked up something new

  And so I had learned calligraphy of all things.

  I studied the small length of practice part in front of me thoughtfully for a moment, and the characters I had painstakingly inked onto its surface. After a moment, I clucked my tongue, shook my head, a down the brush in my right hand. Pig up the piece of part and crumpling it up, I threw it over my shoulder carelessly to join the rest of my failures. I’d messed up a crucial brush stroke halfway through, and so I’d o start over.

  But that didn’t bother me.

  Caligraphy was…calming.

  While it was an art that was covered by the actual Profession of Artistry, I didn’t have that anymore. I had my Aetherial Melding, and I wasn’t using that in the slightest. I’m not sure I ever would have even thought twice about the art itself, if I had tried to use my Profession for it. To me, it would have…taihe motions. At that point, I would have just been using the hobby for the Impact it would gee towards pig my css.

  I didn’t want that.

  I wanted something I could just sit down and…do.

  No expectations of adva.

  Nression towards a higher tier of power.

  Just…rexation.

  And it had both worked, and tio work for me.

  I idly studied the colle of brushes, inks, and pens I had accrued in the four months since I had arrived in the Land of Rivers and made airely sequence-free decision.

  I do believe I would try the green ink I had picked up earlier today. I opened a lower drawer on my work desk and withdrew another sheet of part, picked up a pen this time, and broke the seal on the small jar of shining green ink. Dipping the pen inside, I made a test stroke.

  “Hmm,” I muttered to myself softly in the quiet room, at the feeling of the ink. “A bit dry.”

  I shrugged after a moment.

  Eh, whatever. I’d try another pen on the attempt.

  I had plenty of time for experimentation.

  At least…that’s what I thought.

  A kno the doorframe of my rented room caused me to make a small mistake in my penstroke, ending my current attempt early. I felt my eyebrow twitch slightly at the interruption, looking up from my desk to stare at my door.

  I wasn’t expeg aonight. I’d already had my dinner, and I wasn’t expeg any of my friends and patriots at this te hour. I rarely saw Venix these days, sidering how in demand he was from the local military forces. Even with as reduced in strength as he was from his extended a, the Antium was still a high-level Cultivator. He had been taking quite a number of tracts directly from the military forces of Kawamara to cull Primes all across the isles. When he wasn’t busy with that, he was out challenging local swordmasters to duels to ‘hone his bde’, in his own words.

  He even won some of those.

  Sometimes.

  Azarus, Liora, and Renauld should still be off with the Oni Hurag down a new spawn of the little bastards. They’d offered a spot oeam to me, but I’d deed sidering the…business I had these days. I didn’t want to abandon it in the cradle. Not with how proud I was of it.

  And Bel?

  Well…

  My c sighed to itself at the thought of the pirate woman, even as my outer leveraged my body up to go and see who was at my door.

  Bel came a on her own time, sidering her work with the Bluebacks. I hadn’t seen her in over a month now, ever since a particur…i between us.

  I smoothed down my pin evening robe and ran a self-scious hand over the barely-there hair. Annoyingly, I’d found that after my transformatioo Vis Maledicta Exactoris, my hair grew in much, much slower than it used to. I’d expected to have a full head of hair by now, after it had been shaved for my Assion Ritual.

  But no. Irritatingly enough, I still looked like a bruennis ball.

  I shook those thoughts off and reached out, sliding back the rice paper door that separated me from the rest of the high-css inn where I rented a semi-perma room. Oher side of the door was a fairly…irritating sight.

  A man dressed in servant robes belonging to a partioble house, here in the capital city of Hinaga. The greens and yellows cshed horribly with the uated, earthen hues of the inn, but that wasn’t what was so irksome about them.

  It was that I had already shooed this particur servant away, earlier in the day. They must have known how unwele I would have found the sight of them, because they were already bowing at the waist in apology.

  I sighed, reag up to massage my brow. “As I’ve already said,” I groaned. “The sword is not ready yet. Please inform Lord Ashiwara that, no matter how many times he pesters me, the f process will not accelerate.”

  The servant bowed deeper. “A thousand apologies, Kuroshō,” He murmured apologetically. “But my Lord is insistent. His firstborn son and heir leaves for his first hunt in a fht. The young master deserves nothing but the best, and you provide it.”

  I took a deep breath to try and tamp down on my frustration, because this guy didn’t deserve it. The busybody Lord I had taken a ission from did.

  You see, there had been a problem with my decision to flee from the war. For the first time, I had been separated from the seemingly endless purse of my mentor, Headmaster Grey of the Shadowed Sun. I could no longer depend on his financial assistan…pretty much all things essentially. All the I had to my name was the backpay I’d gotten for my work as part of the destine Noe Division. And while that had been signifit at the time, it’s not like it was infinite. I’d realized orip over the waves to Kawamara that the gold would run out eventually.

  So, I’d hatched a pn to start slinging my talents as an artisan here in the capital city. The iion had pretty much to only do it as a side gig while I stuck to the inal one of adventuring in the rolling hills and forests of the Land of Rivers with my friends. Once here, I’d discovered a pretty surprising thing.

  The metal that prised my own personal ons, Oninite…wasn’t really used much. It retty on here in Kawamara, but it was notoriously difficult to work with. Piles and piles of the ore sat around in warehouses galore here iy, entirely unused and unwanted by the locals. Pretty muly the best of the best smiths in the try were capable of w it into onry. But they teo charge an arm, a leg, and a few other assorted body parts to do that.

  I didn’t.

  It was much easier for me to work the metal with my cheaty cheating cheater Profession than a good old-fashioned smith.

  I’d capitalized on that and started out by ‘flooding’ the market with a number of Oninite ons to get my .

  That had very rapidly caught the attention of Hinaga, aually the high houses of the nobility. From that, I’d been given the smith-name of ‘Kuroshō’ by the locals. When I tuned Language Adaptation down a bit for a direct transtion, it seemed to mean something along the lines of ‘Bck Artisan’.

  Possibly a py on both my now signature metal, and the bck trails of scales that lined my battle scars. A truly wonderful gift from the now-deceased Rhazal.

  Bah.

  I may not be as skilled as the master smiths of this try, but that didn’t matter when I was w with higher-quality material. Just the fact that I was cheap Oninite onry at all was enough to grah clout and a number of very lucrative tracts.

  Like the one from Lord Ashiwara.

  More than enough to both fund my lifestyle here in this inn, as well as my new hobby.

  Well, hobbies.

  “My answer remains the same,” I said tiredly. “The sword will be finished in a weeks time. If my knowledge of how time funs is still correct, then the sword will be ready for the young master’s hunt with time to spare. Good day, sir.”

  The servant raised his head just enough from his bow to look at my face. I noticed that his eyes lingered on my ears, but not for an excessively rude amount. “But-!”

  “I said good day, sir,” I said firmly, sliding the paper door closed deliberately. Any further protest from the servant was cut off, and thankfully, he took the hint. I heard the servant sigh wearily from outside the door and then shuffle away on sock-cd feet.

  I let out a breath now that the interruption was done, rolling my shoulders as I did. They were a bit tense from hours of hung over the small work desk I’d bought for myself with my smithing work. I eyed said desk for a moment before deg to call it a night. The interruption had broken my flow, and I didn’t think I had it io get bato it.

  Time for bed, I think.

  As I shuffled my way over to the Kawamaran bedroll in my room, I let my eyes drift over to the opposite er from my sleeping quarters.

  The one filled with onry. Spears, and swords, and maces of all shapes and sizes y carelessly piled on top of each other.

  All of them made from the blue and bck of Oninite.

  It, uh. It didn’t take me long to actually fe a on from the metal, and s my work sessions, I teo make…a number of them. In point of fact, Lord Ashiwara’s ission was actually finished aing in that pile, no matter what I’d told the servant.

  Somewhere.

  I just hadn’t told the servant because his master was being kind of a rude asshole.

  They could wait for a few days.

  Frankly, I only teo take a long time on ons that I personally fed for my owhese days.

  And I had certainly made more than a few.

  With that f thought, I slid into the bedroll and almost immediately felt myself start to drift off to sleep.

  It was ing much easier for me, these days.

  A little rest worked wonders.

  …………………………………………

  The m, I ventured down to breakfast before the break of dawn. Since my Assion, I’d found that I needed eveime to get the equivalent of a full night’s rest. I’d been up te into the night w on my calligraphy before the interruption from Ashiwara’s servant. All told, I’d probably slept for only about three hours.

  A I felt pletely fine. Rested, even.

  I returhe slight bow that the proprietress of the inn gave me as I reached the ground floor. At her wordless gesture, I sat down at one of the small, low tables in the dining area. I was the first one down here, sidering the time, but that didn’t seem to stop the service here. I swear, they seemed to operate at all hours. Mier, one of the waitresses kneeled o my table with a tray carrying my breakfast and a cup of steaming tea. She pced it in front of me and then backed away with a quiet bow.

  I picked up my tea and leaned ba one hand, sipping at it as I looked out of the rge, open sliding doors dispying the skyline of Hinaga. Just outside of them, I could see a slight hint of light on the horizon as Tarus began to peak over the horizon, casting a wave of emerald light over the spires and temples of the city.

  I took a deep breath and smiled.

  Yeah…

  This had been a good decision.