Now, the various factions, sects, governments, nations, and empires across Integration don’t want you to know this, but if you’re good enough at kidnapping and mental torture, you can force a fairy to bribe you to let them go. In fact, I strongly recommend this. It’s one of the few good things about interacting with fairies: they can’t die, so you can get up to all kinds of fun stuff with them. Frosting on the pain-cake is the fact that their minds also recover after the cycle ends, so they’ll snap back to their original state at some point, which means if you’re already close to the end of a Fairwoods narrative, you can go nuts.

Now, if you know anything about the fae, you understand that they’re really, really cunning in some ways and have this despicable childlike innocence in them and others. They’re elemental creatures. That makes them vulnerable. And let me tell you: it really, really feels good when you manage to squeeze a few gifts out of them. Now, why should you listen to me?

Well, it’s simple: I, the Realmrunner, treasure hunter extraordinaire, trafficker of all races, peoples, monsters, and things, might as well be a Mythical Pathbearer when it comes to the delicate skills of child kidnapping and emotional abuse. But if you’re going to hurt something that’s a little bit like a child, you need to build up to it. It’s a very meticulous act. You can’t just be beating them all the time. It’s too much pain, too much despair. Their mind will break before you get anything out of it.

The fae can go insane. You don’t want that. A mad fae is just that—it’s mad, it’s unkillable, and it takes too long to recover. Unless you’re its proper adversary, you’re just stuck with this ruined, unkillable thing you probably have shoved in a cold iron cage somewhere. It’s shit and very bad for your profits.

What you want to do is traumatize it first. It needs to be absolutely terrified of you. So terrified that it will never seek retribution or try to mend its heart through some bullshit quest of forgiveness or revenge, but instead it will stay far the hell away from you afterward, and while it’s in your custody, it will do anything it can for it to be returned to the Fairwoods. That’s the special ingredient—for abuse to be truly potent, you need to inject a bit of hope into the mix. You know—the possibility of things getting better.

Now, as said before, fuck the Fairwoods. Fuck it, fuck it all to the deepest hells. You don’t want to go there, but any fairy that leaves the Fairwoods? They made a mistake. They’re not supposed to be out of place during the cycle, so you can really squeeze them. If you have time, the easiest thing to do is simply tell them what’s happening back at home. Tell them how their Court won’t forgive them. They really can’t stand that. After you do that, cold iron can also add a little bit of physical torment in the mix. Not too much, though. Again, if you go too hard, they’ll just break. Broken fairies are useless.

After that, the magic happens. They’ll hit a point where they’ll do anything, agree to anything, offer anything just to be let go—and you squeeze them.

I recommend making them give you one of their skills or a Unique piece of equipment beyond something stupid like a piece of treasure. You can find golden shit everywhere. But a Fae Skill? Or an instrument of cyclical fate? That’s rare. And that’s worth all the effort.

-Fairies and the Fairwoods by the Realmrunner

235 (I)

Dietary [I]

“So, Head Chef Velly’s really dead?”

Shiv grunted in acknowledgment as he healed another of the surviving chefs. There were twelve in total, twelve out of the forty bodies he’d extracted from the kitchen of Monster Mystery Meat. A great many had expired within cocoons of mold and yeast. The bread had grown into their organs and settled in their vessels, compromising the structure of their brains and organs.

They died long before Shiv could do anything for them. By now, Shiv was inured to all the death and pointless cruelty, but something still gnawed at him. Something felt truly wrong here. A kitchen wasn’t supposed to be a battlefield. Stressful, miserable, and desperate though a place it might be, it was a temple of creation. It was a place that was holy to him, a place of art, and to see it so violated by the fae filled him with a deeper urge to commit violence.

Yet, thanks to his Sage of the Enkindled Heart, he was uncompromised by his anger. Instead, it now proved a resource for him to wield. It was a power for him to concentrate his skills, and he devoted every bit of fury he possessed to his Practical Metabiology skill. From there, he conducted more in-depth examinations of the chefs. This felt like a lead-up to his volunteering session later this night, but just as well, he was making himself useful. Making himself useful despite how much he wanted to rage, how much he wanted to throw a tantrum.

In a weird way, Shiv was being refined. He wielded himself. He shaped himself like a raw piece of iron, kindled by the heat of his rage, smelting his very emotions and psychology toward positive progression rather than pointless outrage. He used this opportunity to stress his new Multi-Tasking Skill Evolution and push his Practical Metabiology toward the final edge. His Vitae and mana hydra operated subconsciously, applying treatments and carrying things to each of the chefs without any need for thought on Shiv’s part. The former skill gained a few levels, but the latter lingered. He was close, though. Close to another breakthrough.

If only that could soothe his raging soul.

Bifurcated Processing 52 > 53

Aegis of Assimilation 127 > 128

Looking upon the survivors filled Shiv with misery. They were—even now—chefs capable of cooking. No one here was stained with the curse that reduced him to merely an engine of destruction. But he didn’t let that overcome him, the same way he didn’t reject Adam’s request to step away from the Anointed One.

Before gaining his newest Heroic Skill Evolution, Shiv would have continued brutalizing the fae. He would have lost all sense of self, all coherence just to inflict a bit more pain. Right now though, this was true emotional power, this was self-domination—the highest domination there was.

Sage of the Enkindled Heart: No. Don’t think that way. You’re coping with arrogance and want to feed your own ego to make up for what you lost again. Take the loss. It hurts, but we will deal with you. You don’t need to pretend that you’re uninjured or immune to pain. We can take it. We can face it. We can use it. But we have to be honest with ourselves.

“Right, honest with myself,” Shiv said, echoing the words of his skill.

“So, what do we do now?” a voice nearby asked.

“I’m sorry?” Shiv looked at one of the chefs staring at him. This one was called… Shiv drew upon his Bifurcated Processing skill, and his Memorization triggered in tandem on its own. “Michael Bernstein, was it?”

Memorization 16 > 18

The chef looked surprised that Shiv knew. “I… Yeah…” He nodded. “I… I just wanna know what we’re going to do now. I mean—I know who—I won’t tell anyone you were here. I promise. I just need to get home. I need to—we can’t stay here. Everyone—so many people died; we can’t stay!”

Shiv watched as the young chef threatened to come undone before him. Michael was a Commis, the same role Shiv had volunteered for. He’d been working at Monster Mystery Meat for quite some time—nearly six months to be exact. He was mainly in charge of peeling potatoes and doing preparatory work when the outbreak happened. The fact that he wasn’t that important and was merely a bystander kept him alive longer as well. The chefs in charge of the stations had been among the earliest casualties—they were executed in front of the rest by the Anointed Knight in a fit of rage.

And now Michael bore those scars. He and the other chefs were wounded in a way Shiv couldn’t easily fix.

Sage of the Enkindled Heart: Maybe you can help them modulate their feelings in time, but time is something you don’t have, and you can’t risk getting exposed by them either. More problems have come from this good deed. It would have been more practical and beneficial if we had just abandoned them.

But that’s not who I want to be, Shiv thought. That’s not the world I want to see. We’re not doing things because they’re practical; we’re doing things because we want things to turn out right. We want the world to be better. What other point is there to being powerful? Why be a Legendary Pathbearer if I can’t even do that?

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Michael Bernstein was a young man, perhaps only ten years older than Shiv. His skin was soft, hinting at a very low Toughness skill, and his Physicality and Reflexes were nearly non-existent as well. He was the very opposite of a martial. The same could be said about most of the other chefs too. Maybe Velly and some of his direct subordinates had been warriors, but the survivors here were of no threat to anyone.

And that’s why they were the survivors. The Anointed One was making sure he didn’t face any actual danger from the survivors. It’s what Shiv would have done if he wanted to maintain control.

Some of the chefs sobbed while others held each other, muttering hollow words of encouragement. Their uniforms were still caked in yeast and breadcrumbs, and their hearts looked wretched to Shiv. Instead of seeing cores that could be filled with anger, the shape that nested within their centers resembled a mess of broken pieces.

The Faebread had trapped them in a special kind of hell. Between suffocation and being trapped with the corpses of their dead fellows, the psychological harm they’d suffered was immense. Shiv gazed upon them with new eyes now. Sage of the Enkindled Heart let him guide his outrage, guide how he acted, with his emotions now more leashed to his mind—his anger feeding his psycho-socio intellect.

The chefs couldn’t do the same. They were animals. I was an animal, Shiv realized. The epiphany hit him. It was both bitter, sour, and horrifying to understand. It was the kind of enlightenment that cut one to the quick. Previously, he chose violence. He was compelled to do so. Whatever offended him, whatever hurt him, would be attacked with every bit of force and magic he could muster.

There would be no strategy during his rages. No attempt to bargain or think. Shiv was a warrior of low and instinctive cunning, even if he wasn’t that educated. But even that low cunning went away when he was sufficiently furious. That wasn’t the case anymore. With his fury, his mind grew sharper, clearer, and his thoughts flowed more easily. He didn’t think any faster or remember any better, but he understood things about himself. He was clear about why he did certain things, why and what emotions provoked him to commit certain actions. And this self-dissection left him feeling… unnerved.

He looked upon the people within the clinic he’d established inside the massive pantry of Monster Mystery Meat. They were in good physical condition now and had places to rest. Shiv shaped some furniture using the materials he assimilated from his previous corpses to supplement the existing seating he could find. He also scavenged water and nutrient bars from the second floor of the building. The chefs needed to eat, especially after being deprived for so long.

One thing he didn’t give them, however, was bread. Bread was in abundance in the kitchen, but after their recent experiences with the fae, Shiv guessed that they wouldn’t be looking at baked goods or pastries the same way, for a long, long time.

Maybe even for the rest of their lives.

On top of all that, there was another issue. One that Michael touched on. They had seen his true form, and the notification had triggered for all of them as well. Most of them barely reacted, but Shiv caught a few side-eyes. They knew who he was. They were aware of the reward for whoever managed to slay him. He doubted any of them would try taking his life right now, but he couldn’t be sure with their mental state.

When or if the crisis within the Monster Mystery Meat got out, the Inquisition would conduct a full-scale investigation that would bring in Psychomancers and Investigators. The Prismatic Guard would probably join in as well. Shiv guessed they had good odds of tracking him down, and he didn’t need that.

This left him with a few ugly choices.

The first was using his Psychomancy to make proper mental adjustments to the chefs. But there was a risk here. He didn’t much care about either of the DeGrailles that he’d mutilated memory-wise earlier. He’d definitely dealt lasting psychological and neurological damage to them, but considering what they were doing and how many died because of them, they had it coming.

The chefs didn’t deserve that, though, and to alter their minds without harming them required someone who was an expert far beyond his abilities.

That led to option two: Invoke a service from the Neath.

He knew that, as an underworld enterprise, they had to have someone who could cover up evidence, and that meant a working criminal Psychomancer was probably hireable.

After that, there were the options that deepened Shiv’s misery. He didn’t want to talk with Veronica or Cripple. Not about this.

I should talk to Adam about this and see what he thinks.

Just as Shiv thought that, the Gate Lord appeared from the wine cellar, striding free as his vector wings glowed behind him. His Shattered Star hovered behind his head, and it seemed brighter than ever. Shiv could feel the power trickling out of it. The Deathless wondered why that was—if Adam had used his ability in some way on the Anointed Knight.

Probably to fix the burns I left on him, Shiv guessed.

However, another thing caught his attention as well: He saw a building anxiety in Adam’s eyes.

“So, how’s our guest doing?” Shiv asked.

“Well, you might be pleased to hear that he’s quite terrified of you, but on top of that, I managed to confirm a few things with him.” Adam drew in a breath. “This entire thing happened because the chefs here were also moonlighting as Fairwalkers. So, the fault lies largely with them. The damned fools did actually steal from the Summer Court.”

“The hells is a Fairwalker?” Shiv asked.

“People who dive across portals into the Fairwoods to raid the eternal realm for exalted treasures and potential Fae Skills.”

Shiv’s eyes widened slightly. “Fae Skills? What? You can get a Fae skill in the Fairwoods?”

“Such is the rumor.” Adam shrugged. “Haven’t met anyone with such a skill, but it’s not impossible. Fae Magic and Fae Mana are quite different from what we have anyhow, and getting a Blessing from a Princess of one of the courts is rare…” The Gate Lord paused. “And quite double-edged at times. So, back on topic, Head Chef Velly and a few of his more trusted companions ventured over and performed a heist on the Summer Court as the last cycle was ending. Apparently, the Fairwoods undergo a sort of mixed-apocalypse ending enacted by one of the Four Courts. The one that wins must defend against the others, and should they prevail, they start the next cycle as the dominant Court. As such, the Anointed One and his lesser pawns had not awoken at that time. When he did wake up after basically being kidnapped, he was outraged, for if Princess Plum Blossom didn’t taste him and find nourishment in his toasted flesh, then the harvest this year would be weakened, and the balance of power between the Four Courts would tilt toward winter. And with the Winter Court already holding the upper hand… His agitation has its reasons.”

“Ok, all that tracks. So, what do you think we should do about him? Can’t seem to kill his ass, so…”

Adam grimaced and looked over the shivering chefs beneath a skin-tent Shiv made. “What do you even have them hiding under?”

“Skin tent.”

“Right. Well, at least you’re still at the normal levels of psychotic that I remember you being.” Adam sighed. “I hoped this was just going to be a hectic day of cooking or other Shiv-type weirdness. Of course, there will always be chaos when you and I are involved, but this is a little bit more than we anticipated.”

Shiv almost groaned. “Felling System doesn’t want us to ever have easy or smooth anymore.”

“Indeed,” Adam replied with a sigh. The concern in his gaze intensified. “Are you alright?”

Shiv considered the question. “Hells, I’m not going to do anything stupid or destructive, if that’s what you’re asking. But I don’t know, I kind of still feel like shit. The anger’s there, and part of me just wants to throw a childish tantrum that ends with me driving my frying pan through the skull of Maiden. But I’m also very clear that it’s a purely emotional response. I’m looking for catharsis, but it’s not real, you know? It’s like it will feel good hurting her, but it doesn’t make up for my cooking being taken away from me. You get what I’m saying? It’s like the part of me that knows and understands is finally stronger than the part that feels. And it gets stronger as I get angrier.”

Adam just kept staring and shifted. “Your anger makes you think clearly. Is that what you claimed earlier? Because of your Skill Evolution?”

“Yep. Sage of the Enkindled Heart. You ever heard of that skill?”

Adam shook his head. “No, it’s uncanny. And… Well, it’s not—eh…”

Shiv managed a weak smile. “Doesn’t fit me?”

“Going on a bloody rampage and destroying everything… Yeah, that would be more historically accurate to how you would behave.”

“The urge is still there, but it doesn’t compel me anymore. It’s like…” Shiv looked at his hands and realized they weren’t shaking at all. “It’s like a part of me has been put away. It’s been placed somewhere else, somewhere I can reach into and just wield it to decide to do things. I still feel things, but my emotions, my thoughts, and my logic have been decoupled. They’re connected by the skill. Insulated.”

Adam looked worried. “Are you sure that’s good for your mind? Don’t misunderstand, I find myself envious of the control, but… Shiv, I just want to know if something is wrong.”

“I was wondering if I went insane earlier too,” Shiv replied, understanding. “You can say it. It’s weird. But I like it.”

Sage of the Enkindled Heart: Still, he poses a good question. You do not know where this skill came from, if it’s human or bestial. It might make you seem insane in certain ways. It might literally make you insane. You aren’t entirely based on a Tarrasque mentally. There is more than a bit of you that is human. You need to be very careful and keep an eye on your own psychological state.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep