After going through my inventory, I only had two spell options in the elements I could use: Rock Tumble and Void Slice. Rock Tumble was one of the earliest spells a player could get, since gorgos dropped them occasionally in the first area. On a Vescent mage, the spell destabilized the ground under an enemy, drastically reducing their Dexterity and doing moderate damage.

  It was not a great spell, but once it was used enough times, the player could Dismantle it and have a chance to get a Earthen Maw Grimoire, which was essentially a much better version of the spell. That one pulled the enemy into the ground, making them immobile and doing quite a lot of damage.

  In Seven Keys, the chance of Dismantling a Rock Tumble spell into an Earthen Maw grimoire was low. Dismantling was based on the Luck stat in the original game, so most people didn’t bother with it. It was a high-risk, high-reward pastime.

  Now, though, the Dismantle skill could be leveled up, so my chances of getting the better spell increased. It would still be a risk, but there wasn’t an auction house so far in Trash Planet, and Dave had said it probably wouldn’t have anything good in it once it did go up. So unless I got lucky and found an Earthen Maw grimoire in the wild, my best chance of acquiring it was to level up Rock Tumble.

  That said, Void Slice was a much rarer spell in the early game. I didn’t actually know where the shadow alien had gotten it; it seemed rather fortuitous, since it matched his aesthetic so well.

  Despite being rare and sounding dangerous, though, Void Slice didn’t always land. It allowed me to cut through any environmental object, which would then automatically fall on an enemy, even if gravity technically shouldn’t work that way.

  With it, I could drop mountain rocks and trees and even watch towers on my enemies. A high-Dex enemy could easily get out of the way, though. Furthermore, when it upgraded, it didn’t improve much. It just made things fall faster, making it harder to get out of the way.

  But I’d chosen Vescent magic for a reason: the environment in this new reality was not to be trusted. FATE suspected that most objects had a skin of qubins over them. Meaning underneath, there would be something else… something I could potentially use.

  “FATE,” I said.

  Yes, Remnant?

  I switched to Whisper.

  Remnant: If I use a spell that cuts through objects, would it allow me to see inside them?

  There was a pause while she processed this.

  Auxiliary: This depends. If the Conduit have been skinning objects since the start of Trash Planet, then no, it shouldn’t work. There have always been cutting-style weapons and spells in the game. If that worked to expose an object’s interior, then it would have happened before now.

  Auxiliary: If this is a new thing, perhaps it would work… then again, if it were, then they wouldn’t have these spells and lasers in the game still… so, no. I don’t think Void Slice will help.

  I read over the lines as I pivoted around the corner of the zigzag path down the Gem Baths cliff. It looked as if FATE had changed her mind halfway through speaking, as if she’d become unsure of herself. That seemed odd on an AI. They were normally self-assured.

  Huh. Remnant is apparently so scary, he can even cow an artificial intelligence.

  “You’re dismissed, FATE,” I said, wondering if I’d chosen Vescent for a stupid reason. I’d intended for it to help with this mystery, but it was becoming clear that it might be useless on that front.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Still, being able to use magic was an upgrade in itself. I thought of Rock Tumble again, and Earthen Maw. The ability to essentially suck someone into the ground seemed strong as hell, and destabilizing rock ought to come in handy. I might even be able to use it for tunneling….

  “I’m going to equip Rock Tumble,” I said aloud to Dave. “If, at some point, Void Slice seems like a better option, I’ll swap into it. You can swap out spells anytime, so long as you’re not actively in combat. You just lose some of the use points.”

  Use points were what leveled up spells. They didn’t gain any power, but once they hit level 10, they could have a chance to be Dismantled into an advanced spell. Now that I thought of it, this was probably the system the Conduit had used to co-opt their new Skill upgrade system.

  “Thanks for the lesson in game mechanics,” Dave said. “I was starting to fall asleep, but a classroom environment always perks me right up.”

  “Fuck you,” I said. “This stuff is important.”

  “I’m high-Dex, not high-Intelligence, and I’ll never pretend otherwise.”

  “You sure seem to think you’re smarter than me.”

  “Yeah, well, the bar isn’t high, is it? Mister Dismantle-my-ray-gun?”

  “That move saved my life. And yours too, by association.”

  “What, you want a medal now?”

  I stopped walking to look at the parrot. He was scrunched down morosely on my shoulder, his neck pulled in tight against his body.

  “You okay?” I asked. “You’re more of an asshole than usual.”

  Fuck You Dave: Stop pretending to care in public. Remnant would never care.

  I faced forward. “Well, whatever bee you’ve got up your ass, clench it up. I can’t stand to hear your buzzing.”

  Dave fell quiet, brooding, and I tapped my open spell slot at the bottom of my HUD. It gave me an expanded list of options to choose from, which only included Void Slice and Rock Tumble currently. Well, that was nifty, in case I ever looted something good but didn’t have time to look.

  I tapped to equip Rock Tumble, then expanded its info box twice, taking me to the spell’s utility information. This was where it would tell players how to cast the spell. I could still do it manually by tapping the box, but it was usually more expedient—and more immersive—to use a casting gesture.

  Rock Tumble took a simple stomp. It occurred to me that the acid golems had probably used an upgraded version of Rock Tumble to collapse the cliffside—probably even an upgrade to Earthen Maw.

  When we were almost upon the light blue pool representing the Divine Aspect, I gave the ground a stomp. Stone rippled upwards in a line ahead of me, shifting and rumbling. When the spell ended, it looked like a drought had selectively gone through the ground about twenty feet in front of me, leaving the earth cracked and extended in a line about three feet wide.

  I knelt down, but couldn’t see any strange shapes in the broken rock. I poked at it with a finger, to no avail.

  The spell had almost fully drained my mana, which was at 10 while the spell cost was 8. Still, my mana stores ticked up slowly, one point per second, thanks to one of my leveling upgrades. The mana pool filled before the casting time of Rock Tumble even reset.

  Eventually, I would have more spells to utilize, so I’d want a larger mana pool. That and my health points would grow automatically with every level, but there were ways to improve it faster. I would eventually have to choose whether to prioritize health or mana, or to keep them on even keel. I’d also have to try to constantly use all my spells to increase their use points.

  To that end, I strode forward and cast Rock Tumble again, making a sort of arrow shape on the ground, pointing off the cliff edge. I then gripped the edge and climbed straight down.

  “Too good for walking now, are you?” Dave groused.

  “I’m leveling my Climb skill.”

  “You’re begging to fall, is what you’re doing.”

  The drop was maybe thirty feet. “I’ll survive. I already did once today.”

  “Waste of health potions.”

  Damn, something had really gotten into the bird. “You’re getting on my last nerve, Greenie.”

  Dave stiffened. I’d crossed a line, but he said nothing, probably because this time, he realized that he wasn’t acting like I was Remnant. Remnant would have wrung his neck by now, surely.

  I was starting to understand why Remnant had tolerated the parrot all those years, though. He was useful. He could run reconnaissance and scout for me, which he’d said most Game Guides couldn’t do. At the same time, he could dodge most attacks with his high Dex, meaning I didn’t have to take care of him—although apparently Bridget had also decked herself out in Dexterity to have a run at him.

  He was also sentient, and apparently not all Game Guides were. I remembered seeing other Hunters during Setup Mode with little silver orbs flying around their heads, which Dave had told me were also Game Guides, “only a lot shittier than me, and that’s saying something.”

  So he could use common sense to use healing items on me, in addition to being useful and not needing to be babysat. I could almost see why Remnant kept him around. Almost.

  There has to be more to it. Remnant wasn’t known for being tolerant; he was known for murdering anyone he felt like, for any reason, at any time.

  Yet Dave had been giving him shit even before I killed the guy. Why had Remnant taken it? Was there something about Dave I was missing?

  He’s hiding something. I know he is.

  I’d figure out his secret eventually… if it didn’t get me killed first.