Shadow Clone Sorcery

Morph didn’t really care that he didn’t get to visit the hot springs. He was constantly experimenting with his physiology under his clothes and wasn’t too keen on showing off the changes. Compressed lumps of biomass also covered his back and vitals. Morph had hardened their outsides, turning them into armor and padding.

I need to find some magical beasts. Copying special organs like dragon lungs would be incredible. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and El-Prime will give me the Essence of Dragon.

The clone couldn’t begin to fathom how his Shard ability would grow or evolve, or how it would interact with the neighboring pillars. Biomancy on its own was already incredible, and Mimicy had made it easier to use. Morph hoped that El-Prime would increase the ability’s biomass storage abilities or the number of memory slots Mimicry provided.

Leisel’s instructions couldn’t be more precise. The parties were to leave their investigations to the auditor and party leaders. Playing the role of clueless adventurers was just as important to the mission. However, El-Prime didn’t like following instructions. As a result, Morph received contradictory directives.

The party visited the tavern for a meal straight away, eager to eat food that wasn’t made using travel rations. Morph partook but went easy on the mead, observing their surroundings instead. It was still early in the day, and there were no other patrons except for one man sleeping in the corner. The landlady had him thrown out into the pig pen behind the inn as soon as the adventurers arrived, and Morph stole his clothes.

After the party finished their meal, everyone except Mira, Leisel, and Morph went down to the underground baths. It came as no surprise when Morph discovered that El-Prime had sent a clone in his stead. The party leader didn’t seem to have caught on. However, Mira was in the know. It surprised the clone that she’d been told the truth behind the ‘shadow golems.’ The oath of secrecy would ensure the information never got out, but it was still privileged information that they only shared with people of value. Morph didn’t see much value in Mira outside of the quest. If anything, she felt like a liability.

Once sure that Xander was going to change his mind, Morph made his move. Growing hair and a beard demanded minimal biomass. Copying the drunk's facial features afterward was no effort at all. After which, Morph stumbled around town, watching and listening intently. No one paid attention to the town drunk, allowing him to fade into the background. People barely spared him a glance before carrying on with their conversations.

Everything appeared normal. It seemed like business as usual. Mothers argued over whose children started a fight and took it too far. Miners grumbled about their strict foremen. The guards worried about their next evening and overnight shifts. Either everyone was in on whatever was wrong and was playing their roles incredibly, or the Union was worried about nothing.

Morph focused on his arcane senses, seeking anomalies. There was nothing besides ambient energies and signs of materials brought up from below. He specifically scanned for signs of the Frost Giants. After copying one of their physiologies, he had developed an intimate feel for the species. They seemed perfectly ordinary except for their oversized bodies that ran naturally cold.

Magic seemed an inherent part of them. It was naturally attuned to frost and life, allowing their bodies to defy basic biology. It was a unique cocktail of energies that Morph was sure he’d have no trouble recognizing, no matter where he went. It seemed to power their bodies, keep their hearts beating, and organs functioning.

The same life magic gave the Jotun mage the ability to control the warbeasts and the burrowers. Morph was sure they were incredible healers and ice mages, too, and was glad they didn’t have to face either. It would’ve made the fight significantly more challenging. Most parties would’ve struggled with a party commanding an army of monsters made for sieges and war. If not for Spellweaver and the clones, Morph was sure things would’ve ended far differently.

Besides significantly improving Morph’s control over his body, Biomancy also significantly sharpened his senses—or they were deeply interconnected. It was his nose that gave him a clue that something wasn’t quite right.

Things smelled normal at first. Too normal. Morph wasn’t sure how to explain it at first. Everything smelled as it should. There was the river, mud, fish, smoked meat, tanning, sulfur, and all else one would expect in such a settlement. The issue was that all the smells were right, but felt wrong. They were too intense, almost as if someone had intentionally made them too strong to cover up something else.

Morph slowly transformed his nasal passages without allowing too many external changes besides enlarged nostrils. Making the moustache bigger and thicker concealed the transformation. He copied the snowmen’s olfactory organs before inhaling deeply. All scents didn’t just get stronger; Morph also had an easier time differentiating between them. It was then he smelled something sickly and stomach-churning. He inhaled a cocktail of rotting fruit and flesh. In an environment where food was scarce, it was unlikely to let them spoil.

The clone carefully proceeded, stumbling through the town, pretending to be a drunk as he sniffed furiously. It was then he sensed a shift. The locals weren’t just ignoring him anymore. Morph felt eyes following him. He hammed up the drunk act, stumbling and falling onto his hands and knees. The clone pretended to dry heave before struggling upright,

It was close. Morph’s nose led him to a building near the watermill. There weren’t many homes in the area, mostly storehouses and workshops. The smell of rotting flesh got stronger, as did the aromas made to conceal it. He staggered around the corner and grabbed the corner of the nearby building for support. The moment he touched it, Morph was sure. The smell was coming from within, and the irrigation channel carrying warm water away from the building also carried a hint of it.

A sharp blow struck the back of his skull the following second, and his vision swam. The force behind the strike was enough to kill an ordinary man, but Biomancy had made the bone extra thick. Morph tried to regain balance but fell to his hands and knees again, and getting up again was now a serious challenge. All of his joints had turned into jelly. Morph called on his biomass to try to fix the damage, but his body and ability refused to obey. A follow-up bro struck, and everything went black.

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The trip to Reistein had brought significant growth, but not the kind Lukas desired.

Thunderstorm’s Eye has progressed to rank 6!

The Calm Before’s energy costs are reduced.

Thunderstorm’s Eye has progressed to rank 7!

Your heart’s energy production and storage capabilities have increased.

The constant practice with Stormfire was starting to pay off. Lukas believed the battle had helped, too. He had been avoiding the journal except when it vibrated to alert him or the clones of ritual reagents. The progress notifications also felt more satisfying when there were several of them together. At the current rate, it wouldn’t surprise Lukas if Thunderstorm’s Eye ascended before Spellweaver.

Lukas had read that Body and Heart pillars were reasonably easy to train and raise. Their abilities primarily came with passive effects, which limited their growth rates but also removed a lot of hurdles.

Thunderstorm’s Eye ascending first wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. It would come with a conjunction ability with Altered Metal Mass. The clones wouldn’t get to use them by default. However, if Lukas created them with the parent shard abilities, they’d also get the conjunction abilities, or so he assumed.

Biomancy has progressed to rank 7!

Biomass compression abilities have improved.

Biomancy has progressed to rank 8!

Transformation speeds have increased.

It was clear that Morph was working hard to speed up Biomancy’s growth. The clone was desperate to get to the next tier for the related sub-ability and also believed that there was the possibility of a new conjunction ability spawning with Shadow Clone. Lukas thought it was too good to be true.

Morph was a true asset. The clone wasn’t just an excellent combatant with great, great growth potential, but also a brilliant infiltrator. Ascensions and more mid-tier abilities would only make him better. Lukas didn’t foresee himself getting a face-changing ability. Alter Metal Mass was taking a more direct-combat path. It wasn’t the worst of things, but it didn’t leave room for versatility.

The selection was far from ideal, but Lukas reminded himself that he hadn’t used the ability to its full potential yet. Its primary purpose for far too long had been to create clones at different weights. The Stormtroopers were finally starting to use the ability actively in combat. He hadn’t yet pushed it to its full potential or creatively enough. Lukas didn’t regret the selection and was sure something great would show itself down the line.

“Lukas?” Mira approached after Leisel retired to the inn’s upper floor. The women had a suite to themselves, and the landlady had prepared them a hot bath. “That’s you, right?”

“It is.” Lukas smiled, enveloped by Shade’s Mantle. “I’d rather stay like this until we’re somewhere a touch more private.”

“That’s alright.” Mira smiled, pressing a hand to her chest. “My heart has been racing ever since Xander left. I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Did you get the essence?” Lukas asked.

The woman nodded excitedly, fishing an essence sphere out of her pocket. Its contents looked like a dying campfire. “We can use my room. I splurged for the biggest one they had after the suite. There’s just about enough floor space for the ritual.”

“Have you ever done it before?”

“I’ve assisted with the spell circle but not the casting. Is that a problem?”

Mira shook her head. “I trust you. If Shaker’s Beard is any sign of your capabilities, I’m not worried.”

“That’s great to hear. Trust will be necessary if we’re going to work together. Something tells me this ritual is going to be just the start of a long process. Just remember, Penelope can’t know that we did this. She knows about the clones but not my past, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Is there any reason you don’t trust her? It sounds like the pair of you have been through a lot together.”

“I trust her. It's more her affiliates that I’m more worried about. My instincts tell me that she is a member of the conclave first, and mentoring and friendship come second. Maybe I’m wrong, but caution is what has kept me alive this long.”

“I’ve read about reincarnation and transmigrators,” Mira said. “They all sounded so fantastical and unbelievable. It's hard to believe that I’ve befriended one for real.”

“I find it hard to believe that you accept everything I say at face value,” Lukas replied. “This ritual could be something dangerous. Too much trust is what resulted in you getting the black flame.”

“I still refuse to believe that Ephram’s intentions were malicious or academic. He genuinely wanted to help me achieve my ambitions.” Mira fell quiet for a moment, fidgeting and playing with the hem of her dress. “My mother was his first love. He took me in after she perished. Ephram treated me like family. He wouldn’t have helped me get the Great Black Dragon’s fire if he knew of the dangers or consequences.”

“That would mean he’s reckless and plays with the lives of his family.” Lukas caught himself. He rose from his seat and offered Mira a hand. “I’m sorry. It's not my place to say such things. Let's get this ritual out of the way first. We can figure out the rest afterward.”

Mira nodded. Her delicate fingers wrapped around his hand, and she allowed Lukas to pull her to her feet. They ascended the stairs together and entered his room.

“I’ve already prepared everything,” Lukas stated, waving at the floor. A trio of clones stood applying the finishing touches. They had already finished painting the ritual circle. All the reagents besides the essence and the Draco Lily petal sat in their designated spots. “We just need you to get in the center and shed a drop of blood to kick start everything.” He looked her in the eye. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” Mira answered, getting into position. She pulled a palm-sized knife from a sheath strapped to her thigh and sliced open her finger. Blood dripped from the wound, and the ritual circle flickered to life.

Lukas guided the energy to the magic stones taken from the warbeasts first, letting them dissolve, adding power to the ritual. Just then, memories of Morph’s final conscious moments hit. The clone appeared to have spent several minutes out cold before dying. Lukas wanted to investigate, but there was no stopping now. Stopping the ritual now meant sacrificing all the reagents, and he couldn’t afford to lose the Draco Lily petal. The journal wouldn’t grant him another. He pushed onward, focusing on the job at hand. His eyes darted to one of the Shadow-Mantle-clad clones nearby. It was a stalker.

“Investigate the buildings by the waterwheel,” he said. “I haven’t dispelled the corpse. See if you can catch the bastards before they throw it in the river.”

“Got it, boss,” the clone replied, going out the window.

It didn’t seem like Mira had registered any of the words spoken. Pulsing magic channels disappeared under where she sat. The woman seemed to have fallen into a trance as soon as they carried the dissolved essence to her. Lukas could feel the dragonfires flaring within. The black flames were trying to commandeer the influx of energy. Unfortunately for it, the silver gained dominance as soon as the Draco Lily petal dissolved and entered the mix.

This is going to work. Mira will be fine.