(28) Magus Aplomb

Tara breathed as mana flowed through her body, the path familiar yet changed. She felt her teeth sharpening, fur sprouting from her skin, and her temperature rose, energy suddenly filling her. Before she completed the transformation, she funneled the mana back into her core, and the changes reverted.

Tara exhaled, her body back to normal, and smiled. There was no nausea, no pain, and no disorientation as she reverted. The transformation was clean, quick, and, most importantly, fully under her control.

This exercise had, once again, been Nephthys’s guidance. Rather than focusing on manually casting a new spell, she should sharpen her transformation ability, which she was already casting manually, even if she did not realize it.

Her transformation, previously guided by her tattoos, had been her greatest weapon in the Strip thus far. Those damned slave collars seemed to block all external manifestations of mana, meaning that both spells and skills were functionally unusable while worn. However, they did not seem able to restrict mana within one’s own body, and Tara’s transformation required no spell form, no externalization of mana.

She had no idea how it worked, but it seemed to use raw mana as a transformative force, some handshake between bodily instinct and magic. She had no proof of this, but she imagined it was closer to the way beasts and monsters used magic than people. While she was unfamiliar with monster magic, she could not imagine a dumb beast creating a spell form to breathe fire.

Of course, her parents would have much more information to give her, if—

She shook her head, ridding herself of unproductive thoughts. The important thing was that her transformation was under control, and thus, now a reliable way to defend herself rather than a last-ditch effort.

She leaned back on her arms, sitting cross-legged on the ground of the training chamber, and glanced over at Nephthys, who seemed wholly focused on her conversation with Ramose. She had scarcely seen Ramose disagree with Nephthys, much less argue, so this was quite the spectacle.

“Again, I appreciate the thought, Ramose, but the more people who go, the more attention we will gather. I intend to scout, not be scouted,” Nephthys said, her exasperation managing to cut through her usual aloofness.

“My lady, I agree wholeheartedly. That is why I am recommending Thaleia. She is the stealthiest of the lieutenants, and—” Ramose explained.

“Ramose, Thaleia is not only part of Nemesis’s defense force, but she is also essential in our scouting operations here. Her summons, specifically, are uniquely suited for that purpose. We cannot have my singular scouting mission become the only scouting we do. She is needed here.

“I was trying not to say this, Ramose, but do you really think that anyone in Nemesis, yourself included, would be capable of defending me from a threat that I cannot handle myself? I am sorry to step on yours or anyone else’s pride, but I am the most capable fighter here,” Nephthys declared, staring Ramose in the eyes.

“Of course, my lady. However, anyone in Nemesis would be capable of sacrificing themselves to buy time for you to—” Ramose started.

“Stop. I do not want anyone thinking that way. I need capable people who are going to stay with me and run the guild, not sacrificial pawns to throw away at the first sign of danger.

“I will also not overlook the implication that I am incapable of evaluating threats myself. I apologize if this fact harms whatever image you have spent two centuries crafting of me in your mind, but I did not arrive at my current power by foolishly rushing into every battle presented to me. I have fled the field plenty of times, and I survived and grew stronger because of it.

“I will not hesitate to run, should the situation call for it,” she said firmly.

Tara subconsciously nodded along. It was only logical. She had witnessed plenty of strong fighters from the clans lost in battles they should have fled or never should have engaged in. Pride was a killer in Ashreach just as assuredly as the land and monsters.

She blinked back to reality, finding that Nephthys and Ramose were now discussing logistics. Had she zoned out for that long? Stretching, she realized how tired she actually was. All she had done for the past few hours was cycle her mana, but even that had exhausted her like physical exercise.

“—do not know the exact customs, I have participated in society before, so I have a much better chance at assimilating and going unnoticed than anyone else,” Nephthys concluded, which Ramose, reluctantly, agreed with a nod.

“You’re going like…that?” Tara asked suddenly, motioning generally toward Nephthys.

Nephthys and Ramose both looked at her, then at Nephthys, then back at Tara.

“Yes?” Nephthys replied, clearly unsure of the issue.

“You really think you’ll avoid attention with that ring of lights spinning above your head, or the lines of stars across your skin? Even that shiny armor, which looks outrageously expensive, will draw every eye in the world. Never mind avoiding attention, you’ll be the talk of the town before the sun even sets,” Tara declared.

Nephthys and Ramose, once again, exchanged looks, and Nephthys’s body began to morph. Suddenly, the lines of stars vanished, as her skin took on a natural—if pale—color. The purple highlights faded from her hair until it was completely black. The ring above her head disappeared, and her eyes shifted to a pure white, which was still attention-grabbing, in Tara’s opinion, but not nearly so much as before.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Ramose blinked several times as he watched.

“I am surprised to see a Transmogrify rather than a simple illusion, my lady,” he mused.

“The whole of Ashreach is a high-level zone. The chances of running into someone who can pierce a simple illusion will be high,” Nephthys reasoned, her impassive tone and visage unchanged by the transformation.

“A wise decision,” Ramose acknowledged, eliciting another barely discernible eye roll from Nephthys.

“I’m coming, too,” Tara declared, standing and folding her arms before her.