Natasha the Halve

Time moved on and five weeks passed.

I made good progress, but that's not the most important thing.

What was important, then? Well, Elena 'returned'... which broke the routine we had grown familiar with.

I was meditating while wearing Shorvanna early in the morning.

The fog surrounding the temple was particularly chilly, but not unreasonably so. Tiny droplets lazily moving down blades of grass meant the temperature hadn't gone near the negatives yet. Wildlife was harder to spot, and the few still around were either above level 200 or not the kind that hibernates... but I'm not an expert in Galeian fauna.

Despite wearing a Divine being, the weather felt the same as if I was naked. That would have been a problem if the chill weather could do anything to me, and judging by the fact the thick fog started going up into the sky at around three meters from where I sat, it was safe to say my body heat would keep me safe.

My mind was focused on E'er. Smaller than a subatomic particle, there was no way I could actually perceive it with any of my five senses. As such, my Halve senses entered the stage.

After six weeks I could grasp E'er in its various states of existence. It was pretty simple, actually. E'er in living beings, E'er given purpose, and ambient E'er. The differences between E'er that formed a fireball and E'er that was manipulated into Life Energy to heal a wound were not noticeable enough to justify a separate system of classification, but were noticeable enough to the point where I could tell what would happen.

After that came E'er manipulation, meaning... casting a magic spell.

A Warrior such as myself, however, has no real need to cast a spell. Not the way Lapia does, at least. With that in mind, Shorvanna and I came to the conclusion that Conjuration was what I needed to approach first since the skills I wanted for my next class would require me to get closely acquainted with that school of E'er manipulation.

The goal was to conjure a spear with E'er.

Silly little me, who has a very basic understanding of the sciences, thought it would be easy. If not for dreaming of Hell, the formulas would chase me in the most horrible of nightmares. The spear in question would need to be as dense and hard as the Alma Pike, which I was yet to check out in terms of hardness and density.

All was not lost, fortunately. I am, after all, an artist, therefore imagination is one my biggest strengths.

Focus, Shorvanna lightly scolded me.

I returned to the task at hand and visualized the spear I wanted to make.

The traditional way to go about it was to imagine the formula and go at it step by step, to obey the order that exists in tradition and respect the process, to do it safely and without room to fail.

Then again... what is life without a little bit of rebellion?

As an artist that was closely acquainted with technology, the easiest way for me to envision a three-dimensional object with the explicit intent of recreating it in reality through magical means was for me to think of it as the 3D sculpting program I used for work.

I retrieved the Mythical spear that would serve as model and held it tightly with both hands at shoulder level. Applying force, I tried bending the weapon to check the material and how much strength would be required to actually do it, which would hopefully tell me how hard the thing was.

Ussing 100 Strength on my shoulders, back, and arms, I slowly rotated my wrists. The material didn't budge, naturally.

In the spirit of not wanting to suddenly snap the best weapon I had, I increased the Strength used by 100 point for each attempt that followed.

When I reached 4100 Strength the spear gave in a tiny bit, so I stopped.

Alright, I thought, focusing back on E'er. A spear that needs 4100 Strength to bend a little bit, weighs a thousand kilograms, is three meters long and five centimeters in diameter. I squinted my eyes, raised my eyebrows, and frowned. Let's see... that's... 300 centimeters times 3.14 times 2.5 square. My left eyebrow twitched. Fuck me sideways... I'm still slow with this. I sighed and went back to it. The volume is... 5888 cubic centimeters? What? Is this right, Shorvanna?

The Goddess did not reply.

I scoffed and shook my head. Whatever. So! 5888 cubic centimeters and one thousand kilograms. Density is gram per cubic centimeter, so... 1,000,000 grams divided by 5888... My eyebrows went down in confusion. This can't be right... 170 g per cubic centimeter?

That's Mythical Weaponry for you, the Goddess commented in a matter-of-fact tone.

Not convinced, I placed the spear on the ground in front of me.

It did not sink.

I'm confused, I confessed with a great deal of frustration.

“Natasha!” An angry voice came from behind. “You fucking brat!”

I turned my head and saw Elena walking towards me at a quick pace.

Her face was livid, her nostrils were flapping, her lips were pulled back revealing her sharp teeth, and her eyes were boring holes in my head.

I was struck by surprise and shock. I had not properly seen her for over a month, having been under Danuva's direct care so she could be healed back to the person she used to be, so it would be more accurate to say I visited a comatose Elena.

Seeing her well and awake was a surprise.

The woman who had knelt, bowed, and curtsied with loud confessions of admiration and adoration to the point of idiocy, who had spoken to me with such respect and deference, who had chastised others when being too comfortable around me, scolded those that called me by name, and all in all was a massive pain in the ass to deal with because she thought I was a legit heavenly being... was now charging towards me with an extremely angry face.

Did this bitch just insult me? I questioned my sanity while standing up. Nah, I must've heard wrong.

The Faeton Elf stood in front of me, crossed her arms, raised her chin, and gave me a look of contempt. “You're in deep shit, bitch,” she barked.

I did a double take, blinking a few times. “Whom might you be talking to, bitch?” I questioned out of reflex, switching to Russian.

Elena scowled and used a finger to jab my shoulder. “You are a stupid, undisciplined, ignorant, and honestly quite disrespectful child,” she yapped, then scoffed.

I looked around the clearing, thinking it was a prank of some sort. “What's going on?” I chuckled.

“Danuva healed me, moron,” Elena revealed with a smirk. “You have no idea who you fucked with. First off, you chopped my limbs off. Second, you broke my fucking MIND. Third, you've treated me like I'm an annoyance when it's YOUR fault I was in that state. Then, you made me fight? I'M A RESEARCHER, YOU STU-!”

“I can wait five more weeks,” I interrupted her, leaned into her ear, and whispered, “Think your mind can take it?”

Elena flinched and went quiet. Her face started getting redder with anger.

I pointed at her, at me, then at the space between us. “I don't have to stand this shit. You realize that, right?” I inquired with a calm voice, but feeling a vein about to pop somewhere. “How about you first thank me for getting you out of that Changeling mess? Unless, of course, you willingly went there and got mind controlled? A researcher? I question your cognitive capacity if that's how you ended up. When I first saw you I thought you were a retard... I guess I wasn't wrong.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Elena scoffed. “You went overboard and you fucking know it. All of these threats mean shit, Natasha. I'll let Yulianna know, by the way,” she told me with wide eyes and an entitled tone. “You better prepare for when she gets here.”

“Who do you think you are?” I scoffed back. “You think sucking some Halve dick and eating some Halve pussy gives you some sort of value? Come ooooon! You're smarter than that, Elena.”

“You insolent little shit,” she seethed. “I am over three thousand years your senior. You will treat me with due respect!”

“Go fuck yourself,” I chuckled, then pointed at her and warned, “Don't talk to me in that tone.”

Elena stared at me with wide eyes for a few seconds, then slowly shook her head while a smile formed on her face. “You just don't see how wrong you were, do you?”

“Oh, I do,” I admitted. “But that doesn't mean I have to take any shit from you whatsoever. I brought you to the Gods to fix the mistake I made, but I will not allow you to speak to me like that. So, you either sit the fuck down or I will slap your fucking face off your skull. Choose carefully.”

She clicked her tongue. “I will say whatever-”

I raised a hand and bitch-slapped her using 1500 Strength.

The Elf's head snapped back, then her body slowly crumpled down to the ground.

I caught her and slung her over my shoulder. “I told her,” I muttered and walked towards the temple.