The master thief who talks to a jiggling box

A small thread of mana burned in front of Claud. It was far finer than the flame he'd created earlier, but a terrible sense of danger loomed within him whenever he laid eyes on the little blue thread. Instinctively, he knew that this little thing could probably pass through plate armour like a hot knife through butter.

It would have been a good weapon, if not for the fact that it had no mass. Unlike the attacks that the shadow had thrown out earlier, this thread of mana, which was formed by passing through ten percent of his mana though the mana circuits inside his body, was weightless, meaning that it couldn't exactly be fired out or used as a weapon. The only result of his hard work was permanent ink that could also tear through metal and paper alike if wielded carelessly.

"Well, time to do some tests." Raising his finger to the chair he'd broken earlier, he focused on moving the mana slowly, gently. For a moment, the mana thread seemed to come alive, wriggling like a worm.

"Ah." Claud let out a small sigh as the mana thread touched the wood. He could sense it. The little grooves on the surface, the effects time's passage had on it, the little specks of dust that he couldn't see…

Shivering, he worked his will. Let's see…what should write? I know!

The thread of mana danced, and when he withdrew his hand, three words sat on the surface. "'I was here'. Quite the fitting sentence, right?"

Claud paused. "Maybe I should write it out in block letters, just to prevent some of those random skills from locking onto me."

Erasing the cursive words by mutilating them utterly, a strand of mana wriggled out of his hand again. This time, they moved in a mechanical fashion, rewriting the same words in capital letters. Taking a step back, Claud examined the words, and then nodded.

There was nothing personal about them this time.

"Still, wasn't that a bit too easy?" Claud wondered out loud. From how the tutorial had described it, learning to draw with mana was supposed to be a harder process.

An idea hit him. "Lyceris, Goddess of—

A textbox opened up before he could even finish his words.

[By saying 'status', you can forgo the chant. Conveniences of a mana-user discovered: 1/5.]

His status appeared a moment later.

Name: Claud Primus

Lifespan: 104 years

Active Skills: Presence Nullification (8), Flight (5), Binding Order (7), Cleanse (6), FiBoD;E??? (0), FiBoD;E??? (0)

Passive Skills: DiL???C, Mana Organ

Mana Circuit Superimposition: 1.0

Mana Control Proficiency: Intermediate

Comments: How did you pass the tutorial with flying colours? And are you alright? Upgrading your mana control and perception is a painful process. Also, those weird skills I'm seeing look really dangerous. If you need help, do approach one of the gods or their Blessed. They might be able to do something.

Claud looked at the Passive Skills section, where two odd entries caught his eye. He hadn't noticed them earlier, since his eyes had been caught by the anomaly that was his Absolute One, but now…

"Nice to have them," Claud murmured, "but what do they do?"

Crown, the little box, jiggled beside him in what looked like agreement. Picking up the little fellow, Claud lolled back onto his mattress. Becoming a one-fold mana-user had taken fifty years from his life — something the little fellow had definitely played a part. Granted, it looked like a half-off discount, but fifty years was still fifty years.

"You do understand me, right?" Claud asked.

The box jumped twice.

"I'll take that as 'yes', then. So, tell me, what's with this mana circuit I now have?" Claud asked. "I named you, then fifty years of my lifespan vanished, and I'm suddenly a mana-user."

The box rolled onto its side.

"Is that how you tell me that you don't know?" Claud asked.

The box rolled back up, before jiggling twice.

"So…yes?" Claud ventured.

The box jiggled twice.

"I guess I should thank you for the fifty-year discount you gave me, but my lifespan just dropped a great deal from becoming a mana-user," Claud said. "I supposed this can't be helped. What else can you do?"

The box tilted over on its side again.

"Okay…you don't know. Did you lose your memory or something? Do you want me to help?"

The box jiggled twice again, with a non-committal air this time. Now that Claud was getting used to Crown, he found its tiny mannerisms quite cute. Raising a finger to poke the little guy, who bounced in response, Claud rolled a few times around the mattress.

"How can I help?" A moment later, Claud hung his head. "Right. You can't speak, can you? If not, you wouldn't be jiggling like this, would you?"

Crown tilted to the side, reminding Claud of a person deep in thought, and then glowed a brilliant green — the same shade of green as a lifestone. Rolling a few times, it did a few skips and hops onto his body, and then spun on the spot.

"Okay, you need life energy, that much I understand," said Claud. "What's with the other actions, though?"

The box tilted to its side, and then — in defiance of everything Claud had ever known — moved in such a way that made him think of a shrug. He blinked twice at the really odd fellow, and then sighed. Running through the events for the past few hours through his mind, he called out his status again, and looked at the next two entries on the list. Earlier on, some really garbled entry, on the level of his Absolute One, was sitting alone in the Passive Skills section, but some new friends had joined it.

Ignoring the weird entry, which was probably related to his Absolute One, Claud looked at Mana Organ. "And there's this mystery. I'm willing to bet…one gold that it's probably related to the weird tingly feeling at my back."

Shutting his status off, Claud looked around at the mess of a room and began to take inventory of the skillstrips and skillsticks he had left. Having broken an entire bunch of them earlier, he wasn't quite sure about what was left. It was necessary to look through his stock, just in case he ran out after a while.

"Looks like I've taken quite the loss," Claud muttered. He didn't just grab a bunch of skillsticks — he'd grabbed everything. What was left was only a bunch of skillstrips, and most of them were going to expire soon. He didn't make markings on them, which meant that if luck frowned on him, that would be it.

He stared down at those skillstrips, some of which were probably going to expire in eight hours, and then got up from his mattress. Pulling some clothes on, he stuffed Crown into a pocket and told it stay quiet, before heading out of the house.

His mark was going to leave tonight. Rather than using skillstrips, he would sell his stock on the market, and then buy some more practical items. Most of his reusable tools were low quality artefacts that could only be used after they absorbed enough mana from their surroundings, and he was intending on using his whole stack of skillstrips to barter for one of them.

He would, however, have to find the correct person.

Heading over to Triple D, he dodged a drunken man on the way in, and walked over to the counter.

"Hello, master."

"Good evening to you, Claud." The bartender lowered his voice. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be looking for your mark now? Why are you still here?"

"Here to get some items. I've a whole bunch of skillstrips. Wanna see if I can trade them for something."

"They're probably expiring, right?" The bartender rolled his eyes. "Well, let me take a look."

His eyes flashed — it was a skill of his, but Claud wasn't sure what it was. All he knew was that it was an inspection skill that targeted inanimate items…or at least, he'd never seen the bartender use it on anyone living before.

"Hmm, there are quite a few slips expiring soon," said the bartender. "But there's so many skillstrips with Presence Nullification; just how exactly did you get them?"

"A thief trains using his own kind," Claud replied, "while not affecting their work."

"I suppose no one really notices if just one is gone…wait, does that mean that you can what items someone has?" the bartender asked, pausing a moment later. "M'bad. It's private stuff."

Claud shrugged. "It is. Anyway, you should try it too. Who knows? You might pick up a skill or two."

"Yeah…no. I don't do ground-level stuff," the bartender replied. "Alright, for this whole stack, I can trade one reusable artefact for it, the Windburst."

"Only one?" Claud asked.

"Don't look down on it," the bartender replied. "The Windburst can generate a blade of wind that can slice through platemail every twenty-four hours. But the selling point is that it can fit on your wrist. It's also quite versatile; you can fire off weaker shots if you don't have enough charge."

Claud mused over his offer, and then nodded. "Sure. Let's make the trade, then."

"You're not haggling?"

"Think of it as my thanks to you, master." Claud paused. "Can I have some apple juice?"

"Didn't I send you a whole lot a few days ago?"

"I finished them already, smartass."

"Glutton. Hang tight here, while I grab the item for you."

Sliding a glass of apple juice over, the bartender vanished into a door behind the counter. Without anyone to occupy him, Claud turned to look at the customers today; business was as brisk as usual.

The bartender emerged a moment later, tossing a small wristguard that was glowing a dark blue at him, which he fixed on his right hand. Nodding at him in thanks, Claud slipped off the chair, dodged a group of self-important quadruplets, and headed outside.

Night was falling, and his prey was about to move.