Chapter 22 - Under a New Body [3]
"Cleanse."
—Voom…!
The black blood that splattered on me was enveloped in a transparent sphere, drawn toward the tip of my finger.
—Splat!
I hurled the sphere of blood away, desperate to get rid of it while trying to ignore the lifeless body behind me.
"Urgh… I feel sick." I drank water from the canteen I took before this monstrosity appeared.
Because my legs passed in fear, I felt hints of tears flowing from my eyes.
If someone were to see me right now, I would look like a harmless girl, standing in front of a giant corpse that's horrific in many ways.
"I fought way too underprepared..." I shook my head, watching as the Eldia turned to ash.
Eldias are forces of nature that should not be underestimated, not just for their prowess, but also for their tricks and resilience.
One Eldia is equivalent to an average mage or a 2nd-year student in Arcadia.
And because the actual threat level is judged by their sheer numbers, reaching over thousands per swarm, it's a lost cause.
They also vary among themselves, those creatures.
Born from malice, humans were Eldias' biggest suppliers thanks to the war with monsters that happened decades ago.
With this in mind, they tend to mimic humans, albeit in a horrific manner due to their twisted nature.
Although they are nearly invincible due to their regeneration, they all share one thing in common: a core.
Their core embodies their whole existence; it is, in essence, their true form. To destroy it is to sever the connection to the Eldritch God's power, resulting in inevitable death.
A simple graze is enough to distort its existence, either weakening it completely or killing it, like the Eldia that tried to charge at me only to be impaled.
If I were to be asked, "How are you supposed to find their cores when their body structures are different?"
Yeah, that's a good question—you don't.
Why do you think I gave Noah Heavenfall an ability called the Eyes of Verity? It was to see their weak point instantly, an advantage no one has.
That's where the one universal solution to everything comes into play, a solution everyone uses besides Noah.
It's called—blasting random shit at it until it dies.
When Noah cut the Eldia in half, he instinctively saw its core and successfully killed it.
In my case, I got lucky; that's all.
"Blegh, I really need to take a proper bath soon." I sniffed myself and grimaced.
Because I haven't been using shampoo or soap, I felt horrible.
When my messy hair turned long and silky smooth, it wept about how I haven't been taking care of it properly.
I've been letting my signature spell, Cleanse, handle my body hygiene, and I'm still uncomfortable with undressing myself.
Although I have seen glimpses of my bare body, I have never actually taken off my clothes, not even once.
Despite gaining astounding abilities, why did my physical condition deteriorate above all else?
I used to be fit, but that was far from adequate in a world where people could lift cars and throw them like cannonballs.
"For now, I'll return to my hideout and rest today." I stood up and held my chest, gently caressing it to ease the pain.
…
…
…
"...Mmm," I grunted, blushing slightly like an idiot and taken aback in disgust.
Wait, isn't this supposed to be the other way around?
No, not even, what am I supposed to say when the person who touched my chest is myself?
I swear I'm holding my chest because of the tackle I just experienced.
If the day ever comes when I get to meet another human being... I pray I'm used to this body by then.
"Haaa…!" Countless thin golden strands flowed on my left hand's fingers, forming an object I needed.
What I truly lacked was unparalleled firepower—one capable of obliterating an Eldia's core with a single, decisive shot.
Because I don't have the ability to find an Eldia's weak point, I need to replicate the rail cannon I shot at the Eldia.
It needs to be more deadly, more destructive, until it becomes a weapon that could kill them once and for all.
—Voom...!
With each passing second, the Ichor formed slowly, a process that was much more complicated than usual.
It shaped and blended seamlessly, like I was moulding clay beneath my fingers.
Each strand of the Ichor intertwined, flowing with an almost hypnotic fluidity, responding to my imagination as I envisioned the form I needed.
The process felt both exhilarating and frustrating, a delicate dance between creation and the limitations I faced due to my current abilities.
"Just a bit more…!" I urged, focusing intently as the Ichor formed into the object I envisioned.
With enough effort, I created a replica of the magic firearm using Ichor, strengthened with it as the primary material.
"Did... did it work?" I tilted my head, eager to see if this time it had been successful.
But just as quickly, my heart sank as I realized that it didn't resemble the magic firearm at all.
The form was off, clunky and awkward, far from the weapon I had hoped for.
"Gah… this is too hard!!!" I groaned in frustration and flopped to the floor in defeat.
For a moment, I couldn't help but envy Noah's prodigious talent; it was the first time I'd felt so frustrated since leaving the household.
"Things won't be handed to me like a silver platter, I guess." I stared at my left arm, examining the tattoo imprinted on it.
The tattoo's intricate design pulsed with a strange energy, a reminder of the two mysterious powers entrusted to me.
The Exitium Stone, a sinister fragment of an Eldritch God, that was made with the blood of many.
And the Ichor, a fragment of a forgotten God, is something even I don't know.
These tattoos on my arm presumably mean something bad, and I wouldn't even realize it until later.
Such consequences is the inability to Conjure artifacts and properly Copy objects.
Even if I could use Copy to make the magic firearm, it would've been a one-time thing, and I'd have lost my only weapon to defend myself with.
Instead, forming objects became relatively easy, but constructing something intricate required greater focus.
I have to envision each component and carefully craft it one by one. Only then can I create what I want.
The standard version of Form has the same limitations but is less efficient, requiring five times the mana if I were to convert it to Ichor.
In conclusion, a high-risk, high-reward power gain that I could focus on improving before moving to the next step.
"It is what it is." I stood up and tried again.
Form enables me to create solid objects and assign them properties like rubbery, slim, or rough textures.
All of them are essential to make a replica of the magic firearm.
It doesn't sound too bad when mentioned in a paper, and that's true.
I can replicate a gun in 3 days after I learn how it works.
However, this wasn't an ordinary handgun to begin with. It's much more complex, with intricate mechanics and specialized features that set it apart.
It'll take me weeks, maybe even months, to fully comprehend it.
"If I went against an Eldia again, that's where it all ends," I muttered, unable to forget how my instinct told me to run away rather than fight back.
Knowing that these monsters roam around was sickening enough.
Ever since that encounter, I've been repeating this routine after I left my apartment, experimenting with how to master the Ichor in the meantime.
As of now, I'm too weak to fight on my own.
My defence is at its lowest, and my agility is below average. It's only my attack power that's decent.
So if nothing works out, then there's only one way...
And that's to become a glass cannon, prioritizing sheer firepower above all else.
—Crack…!
"Agh! Dammit." I lost my concentration and kept trying.
To be honest, I'm still uncertain if what I'm doing would change anything.
In the desolate remains of an abandoned city, who knows what could happen, concealing sinister monsters that lurk around every corner. Demiurge, where humanity once thrived, only echoes of the past remain, filling the air with a haunting silence.
The only one left to witness their downfall is me, Aria Cyth.
But I can't give up now.
"I at least have to try…!" I grunted.
My voice was hoarse, but my wish to hold onto hope in this bleak future lingered in me.
—Vooom…!
I tried again and put together each part individually.
The barrel, firing pin, spring, magazine, frame, trigger—every single one of these.
That also includes the mana chamber, spell capsule, conductor, and magic bullets.
Just thinking about it makes my head spin.
To survive in this world and fulfill Noah's dying will.
I will become the flagbearer to the world that has gone astray.
Deep underground, a train station.
"Fuuu…" I took a deep breath and kept my eyes peeled, concentrating until my head felt clear.
'One, two, three…'
After a month had passed, I finally made a breakthrough.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to think that I'm now a different person.
Since then, approximately a thousand tests have been conducted.
Create. Destroy. Create. Destroy…
This endless cycle became so familiar that I lost count, until I fully understood the Ichor's true capabilities.
'Twenty-two, twenty-three… twenty-four seconds.'
—Click!
I remained silent and observed to see if everything was replicated, noting how long it took.
—Kachick!
Seeing that it was a success, I loaded the gun with a magazine filled with bullets similar to the one I fired back then.
This is the reason why it took me so long in this cave—the magazines.
I currently have 54 bullets or nine magazines, all of them handcrafted by me.
The pros of a pre-loaded bullet are that it's faster, stronger and more efficient.
The cons, however, is that a bullet of this calibre takes 30 minutes to produce, which could be beneficial considering its strength.
Besides that, since I did something akin to a training montage, my mana and control over Ichor rapidly improved.
Because the Ichor and mana were two separate entities, it's like I permanently have a double experience boost.
In other words, I'm stronger than before… excluding how frail I am.
"…" Taking a stance, I aimed at the massive boulder that blocked the train passageway.
Ichor has properties similar to Mythril, an inexpensive material found only deep within Demiurge.
I asked for a fortified steel handgun when I commissioned it, but… it seems my handgun is made of Mythril, apparently.
I only realized this when I disassembled the gun.
Adjusting my grip to prevent myself from flying, I crouched on the floor and commenced the real test.
Both Ichor and Mythril work as conductors that increase the density of mana.
The difference is that Mythril doubles the capability of said magic.
—And the Ichor increases it exponentially.
So if I were to make a gun out of Ichor…
—BOOOM!!
Then the output would be catastrophic.
The blast alone produced so much recoil that I had to fuse my arm to the gun and wear ear mufflers to prevent bleeding, all made with the Ichor.
Although the bullet was the size of my finger, the Ichor expanded it a hundred times, big enough to erase a human from existence.
Slowly, the smoke fades, revealing the damage done to the boulder.
—BOOOM!!
I didn't stop there.
—BOOOM!! BOOOOM!!
My goal is to fire an entire magazine without the barrel exploding.
If this were to be fired by the actual gun I own, it would explode violently just by pulling the trigger.
—BOOOM!!
"Five…" I wiped my sweat and gripped the gun more tightly.
This is the part where I failed hundreds of times, failing to pass the durability test.
It's time to break the cycle.
—BOOOOM!!
I pulled the gun's trigger without hesitation. The boulder I used as a dummy is completely gone after the first shot.
Now, with every shot, a massive crater is formed.
In fact, the underground train station no longer exists at this point.
After successfully firing the last shot, I checked the gun's condition to see if it had succeeded.
The test… is a success.
In my hands now lies a portable railgun, created with my blood and sweat.
"I… I did it!" I jumped in joy, smiling and giggling happily.
I never expected it to take this long in the first place.
"This way, even someone like me can fight Eldias."
For the fun of it, I tried loading another magazine into the gun,
"Then, can I shoot another one...?"
—Crumble…
"Oh..." But as soon as I reloaded, it shattered into pieces like Legos.
"...6 rounds is what I wanted anyway," I said, still satisfied with the outcome.
Although it took a long time, my efforts finally paid off, and it's time to continue on this journey.
"For now… the gun will be named Libera."
I named the magic firegun, now known as Libera.
A gun that means freedom, truly befitting my current situation...
…It's also annoying to keep referring to it as a magic firearm every time.
"I wonder how the Historia family is doing right now."
Bellerose, Elenore, Camellia, Erina, Anemone, and Gael.
Old relatives of mine I despised, but were the most critical characters besides Noah.
"At least, I didn't want them to die." I expressed.
I was the one who got them all into this mess in the first place.
But it's fine, I have long already accepted this fact. There's no point in wallowing in guilt.
All I have to do is keep moving forward.
—That's all there is to it.
"Then…" I stepped forward, leaving everything behind to start anew.
I must gather information before I venture beyond Demiurge.
There is only one place that has every condition fulfilled...
"To Arcadia, the Land of Magic."
