Words of Power Quest

Prologue

Kotsuba Musashi.

Hearing that name would instil the image of that one Word of Power hunter. Kotsuba Musashi was that sort of man – A slim, well-built being without any notable scars, wearing a simple tanned leather coat and chitin pants, with hair the colour of charcoal. It was easy to distinguish his Ohdean background from other hunters out there.

Right now, he paused to behold a place no one else seemed to have been to for the longest of time.

With the flooring and walls riddled with soot, it was no doubt a strange room. The ceiling had been wiped off by some form of attack, revealing the strange inter-dimensional space surrounding the room, a quiet and perpetual swirl of colours too bountiful to describe. Broken debris of the pillars and walls lay on the rotten panels which comprised the floors.

Kotsuba Musashi had finally arrived at one of the mythical Sealed Rooms, which supposedly housed a Word of Power within. Those rooms, rumoured to be fragments of castles decades ago, were ripped from their citadels in entirety and sealed within the strange, distorted dimension; away from the vile claws of Man.

But there he stood, with the resilience and triumphant valour befitting a representative – In defiance of it all.

At long last.

In the centre of the room was a peculiar pillar with a plain design.

The pillar was floating above the ground, tilted at a forty-five-degree angle with the bottom pointing toward the room's entry point. Just slightly above the base was a word of Anikan origin, radiantly brimming with a golden light.

One ought to have been happy at this sight. To reach the mythical Sealed Room, with a Word of Power before oneself, anyone would have gladly accepted the great power with open arms.

And yet, Musashi's face twisted into a heavy, anguished look of disbelief.

M : No...

He was blatantly unsatisfied with what was before him.

With his eyes fixated onto the golden character, he slowly dragged his feet across the dusty and foul wooden panels. The warning signals in his mind flared, and the slight depression of the rotting planks with every step dissuaded him from approaching the Word of Power any further.

Eventually, he stopped short before the column.

He recognized that character in his native tongue, but he knew it meant something else in its entirety, something meant to be spoken in a different language and intonation.

That character was 定. It sported many names when read from different perspectives, but in its truest, original tongue was pronounced Dìng.

M : No... No! NO!!!

Kotsuba Musashi collapsed, the life and vigour from before evaporated. He looked up towards his 'prize' while clutching the sides of his head, as if in a prayer. From a distance, he looked quite insane had what he uttered been left unheard.

M : This... This wasn't supposed to happen... The most heavily guarded Word of Power should have been 再... Why is it 定!?

The undeniable fact slammed before his face, almost cackling at his grimace. He shook his head ever so slightly, refusing to believe the reality blatantly resting before his eyes. But there it was – In its greatest glory, the golden word was the only thing resting upon the barren, plain pillar.

M : (All the lives lost... All the resources sacrificed. All of that could be rewound if I had 再 to create a 再度 concept. All of it didn't have to go to waste if only it had been 再!!)

He could not even cough.

Had that word been something else, it would have been different.

Had that word been what he expected it to be, he could have saved them all.

M : (... I don't have the dignity to walk back alone like this, with them dead. As much as I wanted a Word of Power, I needed 再, not 定.)

Certainly, had he retrieved what he sought after, the power to revive the dead and recover the resources expended must be valuable enough to risk it that far.

His will wavering, Musashi looked at the pillar above his head once more.

M : (... I dare not take it.)

He was afraid. Had he taken that word and went back to Rugnud, he would be ostracised as a cold-blooded murderer who used others for personal gain; A merciless, dishonourable monster who would throw the lives of others away to achieve the end-goal.

He did not want that.

As pure as the power was, as beautiful as it had always been, in his hands it would be viewed as something obtained through conniving means. The act would be misjudged by the corrupt eyes of the people who sought after it, and those hands of his would be branded by, and stained in the blood of the people he didn't kill.

Musashi did not mean for this to happen.

His head drooped into a position where it was just dangling on his neck. He looked down at his attire, stained with the blood of those who had given their lives willingly.

He remembered the owners of the stains clearly.

The spattered drops were from that young boy Rohat, who was impaled by a spear wall. He was a joyful, sprightly man with a loving wife and a great future ahead of himself, dead from a moment of folly before an unexpected trap.

The smudge of blood and grime belonged to his childhood friend Dekomura, who gave his life to redirect a boar down a cliff. Unfortunately, the boar's tusk scarred a great wound on his left thigh, and the persistent Bloodswarm locusts made his wound fester much faster than normal.

In the end, he too succumbed to fate. And despite that, Dekomura's final words...

... He offered Musashi his corpse to disable the traps ahead, such that his chances of reaching the Word of Power may heighten, as little as it may be.

The moments of their deaths flashed before his eyes in an instant. The valiance and dignity they had, in order to ensure that the expedition was a success, would be sullied by those greedy hyenas in human skins.

He couldn't accept the Word of Power.

Those very lives would have had their sacrifices pinned upon him wrongfully.

Those very people who looked up to Musashi as a model would weep and turn in their graves when they learn of their families' spite towards the man they gave their lives willingly for.

And yet, he could not let their deaths be in vain.

M : (Everyone... I have let you down. I'm truly sorry. As much as you have put into getting this for me, I can't accept this.)

Musashi stared blankly at his body, his head devoid of energy and his eyes losing their brilliance.

His focus was, unconsciously, locked onto a specific part of his field of vision.

A vial.

A vial, dangling from his neck, with a cloudy, white liquid within.

It was his lucky charm, should he be killed on the job – A bottle of his own semen to carry on his heritage.

M : ...!

Luster returned to his pupils and he grabbed the vial on his neck gently, but quickly.

He sprang up, determined.

The solution had been under his nose the entire time.

Dangling the vial in his hand, he slowly tapped the vial onto the pillar. The simple motion sparked a strange effect – The golden character faded away, and the vial flared a brilliant, equally radiant glow.

M : (I will never live with myself had I taken this power. I won't be able to answer the dead respectfully. That is why, my dear, precious child, please understand... This is Daddy's only gift to you. Cherish it well, my sweet child.)

He uttered to himself while clasping the vial in his hands. Or perhaps, he was speaking to someone?

M : Let's go home... Katachi.

He gave the room one last look and exited from whence he came, a door which was not a door, the only entrance and exit of the Sealed Room.

And with that, Kotsuba Musashi's days as a Word of Power Hunter ended with his failure.

But what of the 定 he had gifted the semen?

Chapter 1

A.D. 1569

In his eyes reflected the ever-present, all-compassing sky that was no longer blue. It was a sky covered with clouds, an overcast that blanketed the lands.

The farmers nearby rejoiced at the gift of rain. Women complained and hurriedly kept their laundry. Children sat by the small windows to await the ritual of Sharyu Zuku to begin. People hastened their footsteps to avoid getting their clothes wet.

Katachi sat there motionlessly with tired eyes.

K : (The sky is vast...)

His face twisted, expressing a deep longing. No matter how much he yearned for it, that was not something people could obtain. Naturally, if dreamers were allowed their desires so easily, they would dream no longer.

K : (Can I fly in it, away from here?)

He stretched his left hand up towards the sky and clasped it gently. A small bird flew past, and his eyes followed.

How badly he wished he could fly freely, like the bird. If given the opportunity, he would have given everything he had in order to escape this place. But what had he to sacrifice, a mere child without a name or anything else to give up on?

Alas, what the mind wanted was what the body could never have. He relaxed his left arm and it landed on the soft grass and soil with a thud.

Katachi! Help me keep the laundry, will you?

A familiar voice called out to him, a little hasty and rushed, yet with that gentle tone befitting of a nun.

K : I'm on my way, Mother!

He slowly shifted his weight between both legs and stood up stretching his arms and stomach. Katachi brushed off a few stalks of grass and dirt attached to his ragged pants and headed towards her.

*** ***

Before he even began to remember things, Katachi was abandoned by his parents.

The reason and cause were unknown, and as much as the young man wished to find his real parents, he knew he couldn't. What was a young, nine-year-old supposed to do, when nobody was willing to give him the slightest of clue?

All he knew was that when he was found, a wooden tablet with Kotsuba Katachi carved on it was tied to his ankle. He knew nothing else regarding his parents.

Mother Rinnesfeld, or Mother Rin in short, was a kind soul who found him crying on a soft patch of grass at the outskirts of town. She nursed him and raised him as her own, and soon had a second mouth to feed at home, but that was not a problem for the formidable nun.

The townsfolk, however, did not take his arrival with equal cordiality.

Adults branded him a bastard child. Children hurled rocks and nasty insults at him because their parents encouraged the behaviour. The abuse he had to endure was, simply put, inhumane. The only ones who hadn't the desire to gouge his eyes or abuse his stature were the elderly whom he had been nice to, and Mother Rinnesfeld herself.

Katachi's childhood was littered with horrible memories; so many of them, that he wished for amnesia. He would rather not recall any if it were possible.

His only happy memories were of those he enjoyed with Mother Rin, and when he was alone; usually in the library or open in the fields near where the forests lay, the groves of trees they were warned of; or on that familiar herb ledge where he could admire the carefree children from afar toying and teasing the Plaincoat sheep, in morbid silence.

Even when neck-deep in that cruelty and despair, he clung on tightly to hope and isolation in defence. Many would think he'd grow up to become a wretched and cruel person considering the circumstances he was thrown into.

And yet, Mother Rin insisted that he should be kind to others.

R : Listen very carefully, Katachi. I won't want to repeat myself if possible.

The first time he came back crying at the age of four, Mother Rin comforted him.

R : I'm about to tell you something that will make you sad. I love you a lot, I really do, but I am not actually your mother. I am not the mother that gave birth to you. You were just outside the town, lying on a patch of grass near a field of medicinal herbs. Your parents may be dead and they may have given their lives to ensure you were safe.

That was bound to break a child's heart, under normal circumstances. But what was already shattered could not be destroyed any further.

R : But don't worry, Katachi, Mother Rin is here for you. Come here.

Katachi remembered the warmth of Mother Rin's bosom and arms clearly when she hugged him after saying that. It was that cozy, comforting, accepting warmth which made him relax and feel that he was loved. His urge to cry was suppressed immediately, and he reciprocated Mother Rin's motherly snuggle.

R : That was the first thing you need to know. Mother Rin may not have given birth to you, but Mother Rin wants to be able to love you like how your mother would have wanted to. Is that okay?

In that sentence, he believed her. He believed in the Mother Rin who never saw a reason to lie with the intent to hurt, who always kept that radiant and unfaltering smile regardless of any little thing in life that impeded progress. She was, without a doubt, a nun truly aiming to be a good person.

In that instant, Katachi remembered a flashback where one of the adults in town on the pillory accepted all of the bad words and insults from the townsfolk without flinching.

R : The second thing I want to tell you is also really important. Are you ready?

With that one adult as his model, he mimicked the man with much effort. Katachi took a deep breath and exhaled, gearing himself to accept anything.

R : You have to treat others with kindness, Katachi. Even though they may be bad, though they may hurl rocks and bad words at you, you still have to be kind to them. They may be immature right now and might do silly things in a moment of folly, but you have to bear with it and reply with kindness. There will come a day where they will realise their wrongdoings and regret doing those things.

Mother Rin's love and guidance, and the townsfolk's toxic behaviour towards him forced Katachi to mature at an abnormally fast rate; when compared to other children and even the young adults, he was perhaps maturing too quickly, forming a rather large anomaly among the children.

R : So, smile for Mother now, okay? Everything is alright.

Yet, as much as Mother Rin made sense with what she had said, he did not run towards her crying because he was bullied.

It had been for another reason – One not even she would have expected.

*** ***

K : (This madness... No more shall it plague us. If I must give my life, I shall do so for Mother, who has taken such great care of me.

Such that the ones to come after me would be free from it... Such that the people after me suffer no longer.)

*** ***

In that thought alone, he resolved himself to make changes happen proactively. He pursued that fleeting dream. Katachi picked up a poster of an event known as the Young Magus Tournament, and he steeled himself to overcome that first hurdle.

It was time for Katachi to escape that ceaseless slump.

As he hit the rich age of ten, he was old enough to enrol into one of the famous academies in the region – the Sage Raufid Magus Academy.

He packed his stuff and prepared to set off almost immediately. However, being the poor child he was, he had not much to carry with him except the clothes on his back and some documents to certify his identity as a new student.

But, should the worst happen, he prepared some herbs with him for the possible myriad of different situations he could end up in.

R : Be sure to sleep well, eat well and grow up properly, okay, Katachi? You can always come back anytime.

The nun looked back at him with tears in her eyes, as she held the wrists of the young boy gently. She was clearly saddened by his departure, but it was impossible for change not to transpire. Besides, not all changes were negative in nature.

K : Of course, Mother. I'll be sure to come back and visit every couple of moon cycles.

Katachi straightened the strap to that shoddy and flimsy thing he called a bag, and entered the riderless carriage dispatched by the school.

Katachi began his life on a new world stage.

Chapter 2

Before the young ten-year-old was a huge facility that gave off a castle-like feel.

It was a plot of land given to an aristocrat and a Great Sorcerer by the name of Sage Raufid. According to the bamboo books inside the library, Sage Raufid wept at the potential magi dying because of the tides of war among the countries.

To have built an entire academy to service the public and fish out the potential magi of the world, this place was worshiped as a sacred ground to a couple of notable figures of the world.

He wasn't used to such a classy sight. With hesitation, Katachi entered the building.

As he set foot into the grandeur hall, his eyes locked onto the first thing he saw – The great interior of the academy.

The elegant, strange design of the place appalled him. The chandeliers were shaped irregularly, and some even had magic seals on them. The pillars were not straight ones that normal people used to support buildings, and they twisted and spun in such weird fashions it seemed as if the building was the one supporting them. An orange rug was laid out in the center, almost as if saying 'Right this way, guest of honour'.

At a small corner of the eloquent view was a familiar existence that ruined the entire flavour of that wonder.

Hah. I didn't think the orphan would be allowed to attend this school.

... He remembered that voice. That accursed and all-too-familiar voice brought him much suffering.

There were three people in Mielfeud that constantly picked on him.

The first was Juval, a big brute who was the raw strength of the three. He would grab Katachi by his ragged cloth shirt and drag him to a dark alley. To Katachi, he was a juggernaut who handled the poor child roughly, although he was never aggressive and abusive as his size suggested. He had been here at the academy once, only to be sent back to Mielfeud as a labour man because he wasn't adept at magic.

The next was Zirco, the scheming brains of the group. He wasn't necessarily bad, but his mouth spewed forth the lies and slander that garnered the spite of others. He had probably been here at the Sage Raufid Magus Academy for about a year since he was two years younger than Juval.

And the one before him was the savage one in the group who would hurt him physically and mentally, the one who wrought strength from companionship and took pride in whatever superiority he could eke from the shambling Ohdean figure.

K : Hello again, Dante.

D : You scum! Don't talk to me in such a friend-like manner! You're just a bastard child unwanted by your parents!

Katachi clenched his fist tightly and took a few short breaths to calm down, before relaxing his grip.

K : I have no reason to take your humiliation here. I'll be off.

D : Hah! Are you a coward?

Katachi remembered Mother Rin's words in his heart – They were still immature, so their acts differ little from those of a fool's. He saw no reason to be dragged into his pace. With that preceding his baseless insults, Katachi walked up the steps, towards the second level.

D : You'll never be able to use magic. You'll be sent back to Mielfeud and live the rest of your days as a lame, dirt poor priest! You'll always be a coward who's all talk and no action! Get back here, you little shit!

Shut up!!

It seemed as though an adult, most probably a teacher in the academy, felt disturbed by Dante's actions and was now scolding him for his misbehaviour. The teacher placed some sort of seal on the magic circle at the top of his arm, most likely for misconduct or something along those lines.

K : (... This is new. The adults actually stood up for me.)

He had never received such treatment from a stranger, not even once. To the child, it was a shock that he was protected by someone else, much less cared for.

It made him shudder that he was denied of such overwhelming protection until just mere moments ago.

*** ***

... Good morning, child. Who are you?

Before him was a strange man indeed.

He wore a crisp green fancy uniform, with a white undershirt and a red coloured tie. He had a peculiar sun hat made out of a strange green jelly-like material shaped into a top hat.

From what he could remember, beings like that were called Slimes. Soft, brainless and resilient towards physical trauma, it was often a suitable enemy to train against. Why the man before him was wearing one as a hat, though, baffled Katachi.

But it fascinated him. Such a strange creature told of only in the books of old in a time where monsters existed, sitting there quietly before him in its own little world...

And yet, the terrors it could induce. It was best to leave it be.

K : I'm Katachi. Kotsuba Katachi. I... turned ten just a week ago.

B : A new student, aren't you?

In his hand was a strangely-shaped snack that resembled a lizard roasted over a flame of sorts, eaten out from its belly.

K : ... Is… Is that a newt on a stick?

B : My, how observant. Most students here don't even know what a newt is.

He licked his lips and took another bite from the abdomen and the entire right leg of the newt snapped off easily. It made a squishy, chewy sound within his mouth, which gave Katachi a good number of goose bumps.

B : That astuteness will definitely help you in becoming someone great one day. Right then, your perceptual ability aside, let's see some magic, boy. Do you have anything to show me?

K : I... I do.

Hearing Katachi stammer was not something people heard often. On the other hand, as he was constantly oppressed since he was young, Katachi probably didn't have much social interaction with people except Mother Rin. It was understandable how he was nervous speaking to others.

K : But... Could you get the teacher standing there to go outside first, please?

Katachi was indeed nervous.

Most students, upon meeting a stranger, would be nervous if they performed poorly on a first impression. However, Katachi was nervous for a completely different reason.

B : Feeling pressured from eyes watching you? I understand. Take your leave, Yorn.

He hoped the principal before him would keep the secret.

With a grunt, the huge teacher with a large upper torso squeezed his way through the small space and left the room.

B : What could be so important that no others are allowed their eyes upon?

Katachi's hands felt cold.

He extended a finger and approached the desk with it.

K : (Should I do it...? Should I not do it? He's suspicious, but he seems pretty broad-minded seeing how he just readily accepts me being observant. It's... It's a gamble. Okay. Here goes...)

With a mere thought, a glowing, golden character was formed on it. A small amount of smoke appeared from the book right next to the character.

It was a most peculiar symbol – 定.

*** ***

B : I have to say, that was a marvellous display, Mister Kotsuba. Using it at the age of ten is wondrous indeed. That kind of power can get you into the best class easily; In fact, you might not even stay in this school for long if you keep growing at this rate.

Katachi was kind of happy at being called a mister, but it was no time to be elated.

K : I don't want a 'best class', actually. I want a curriculum that can maximize my own potentials my way.

He uttered it with flawless replication of Mother Rin's words.

K : The best is a standard set by the one who has achieved it. I would want something to be set for me, not by some person who I could never become.

The principal's eyes widened a little as he nodded in agreement.

B : Interesting. You truly are interesting, Mister Kotsuba. Most children would blindly go for the 'best class' because it offers the greatest diversity in finding their own affinities in magic, but it seems you have your heart set on what you already own, no?

K : Yes.

Katachi felt kind of glad to be around the principal – He was surprisingly comfortable to talk to, despite dressing in such an awkward manner.

B : Here is a magic circle indicating your official registration into our school.

Bertund snapped a glove snugly over his left hand and placed his palm on the top of Katachi's arm. A slight, burning sensation was felt, and a circle was tattooed onto his skin.

B : I have to say, I really love students that wear clothes as ragged as these. It may be a bit chilly in the long run, but that beats having to roll up your sleeves to place these magic circles. Convenience is a luxury, as they say.

Katachi shrugged his left shoulder a little bit to get a better look at the newly-added seal.

B : Don't worry. That seal identifies you as an Academy student. It wears off when you leave this area and vice versa.

K : (At least it's not permanent or anything.)

B : In any case, welcome to the Sage Raufid Magus Academy! I'm your principal and the descendant of Raufid, Bertund. There's pathfinding magic all over the corridors and walls, so you just need to close your eyes, think of your destination and walk forward naturally. It will guide you directly, so there's no need to be afraid of getting lost.

Bertund wagged his fingers around as a gesture to represent the magic's assumed omnipresence.

B : The magic is unlocked only during the day and it is fixed at night, which means even if you try to sneak out during curfew, you'd be naturally redirected back to your room. Enjoy your stay here, Mister Kotsuba. I'll be heading back to work now, so if you need anything, just form my image in your head and you will know how to get to me.

K : Okay.

B : One last thing – Take it easy just for today, and wander about the school, enjoy the scenery, remember the places if you have to. Walking and admiring without thinking of where you want to go is the secret to countering this magic. Your first lesson is scheduled to start in two days, so enjoy yourself until then.

With a wave, he invited Yorn back into the room and closed the wooden door with a gentle click.

Chapter 3

The wooden-soled shoes clacked noisily on the hallway.

In normal cases, where most students came from Bellpot or other large cities, their shoes would have nicely polished leather shoes with a fresh smell which felt slightly foreign and uncomfortable; a gift from their parents.

Katachi had no such luxury to get those well-furbished shoes, having grown up with Mother Rinnesfeld