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Data & Magic Chapter 43: The Rocky Gamble: A High-Risk Deployment
🕑 Added 2025-05-12 11:58:36 +0000 UTCWilliam’s mind felt like a CPU pinned at 100%, running dangerously close to its thermal threshold. Every rational instinct screamed for self-preservation, for withdrawal, but the cold, hard numbers EMMA projected into his awareness painted a grim forecast, conventional defense guaranteed failure. He was battered, bruised. His left shin throbbed viciously where Yegun’s kick had landed, a constant, painful reminder of his baseline physical inadequacy compared to the whirlwind he faced.
System status check, he thought, ignoring the fire in his lungs and the stinging sweat plastering hair to his forehead. EMMA updated the shimmering overlay only he could see: HP: 32/150. William was grateful he decided to invest those previous 3 unallocated stat points into vitality. It has literally turned into his lifeline to still be up and standing at the moment. MP: 58 / 100. Previous query cost (Haste analysis): Significant. Running the full diagnostic during Yegun’s speed buff had been computationally expensive, like trying to run a complex fluid dynamics simulation on a pocket calculator. He couldn't afford another deep dive. His remaining energy resources were critically low. He was operating on fumes, adrenaline, and the fading hope of a statistical anomaly.
His grasp of conventional magic was rudimentary, he knew that. He wasn't Julia, weaving energy with practiced grace. His control felt more like trying to sculpt smoke with boxing gloves. He could sense the mana within, that tingling warmth, and thanks to EMMA, he could quantify it, track its ebb and flow with obsessive precision. But modulating it? Controlling the output? Still firmly categorized under 'Experimental - Highly Unstable'.
He recalled the data logs from his Light practice. Activating the simple glow: ~2 mana units per minute, a predictable, linear cost. But his current situation demanded non-linear disruption. The hypothesis, born of desperation and overclocked analysis: what if he treated the spell's simple runic pathway not as a circuit, but as a fuse? What happens when you deliberately exceed design specifications? Earth-side analogy: Applying mains voltage directly to a low-power LED. Result: Catastrophic component failure, brief, intense energy release. Applied to mana via the focus stone...?
Possible Outcomes (EMMA Theoretical Simulation v0.8 - Low Confidence): He mentally scanned the projected probabilities EMMA generated based on fragmented magical theory. Desired Effect (Blinding Photic Discharge): ~40%. Fizzle/No Effect: ~35%. Focus Medium Failure (Fracture/Explosion): ~20%. Catastrophic Mana Backlash (User): ~5%.
Fantastic. A roughly one-in-four chance of success, weighted heavily towards fizzling or actively backfiring. William sighed internally. Still, significantly better odds than the near-zero percent EMMA currently assigned to 'Survival via Conventional Defense'. The decision wasn't logical in terms of guaranteed success, but it was the only option not leading to certain failure. Time for some high-risk, unproven, experimental deployment. Peer review would be... explosive, possibly literally.
Execution, however, required an opening. He couldn't just stand there and visibly charge up his magic rock while Yegun performed high-speed acupuncture. He needed Yegun to lower his guard, commit to a final strike, relax his focus for just one critical instant. He needed a feint, something utterly unexpected, something that screamed 'target incapacitated, threat neutralized'.
His eyes darted across the dusty training yard floor, littered with loose stones kicked up by their frantic exchange. The idea struck him then, absurdly low-tech, almost insulting in its simplicity. Rocks. He'd feign utter collapse, resorting to the most primitive defence imaginable. The tactical equivalent of throwing pebbles at a tank. It had to appear so ludicrously ineffective, so completely pathetic, that Yegun would dismiss it entirely. That contempt, that micro-second of anticipated victory, was the vulnerability William needed to exploit. Feint Strategy: Operation Pathetic Pebble Ploy. Objective: Induce opponent overconfidence, trigger closing manoeuvre, create temporal window for counter-deployment.
Gritting his teeth against the throbbing agony in his shin and the deep ache radiating from his shoulder, William deliberately let his stance crumble. He stumbled backward, letting his sword arm drop as if strength had deserted him entirely. He scrambled awkwardly across the packed earth, his movements jerky, uncoordinated, though frankly, not much acting was required given his actual state, and scooped up a handful of loose stones and grit with his left hand.
Across the yard, Yegun’s relentless pressure faltered. The B-Rank swordsman pulled up short, the blur resolving back into a lean, poised warrior. His head tilted, processing the bizarre shift. Threat assessment… rocks? Projectile velocity: negligible. Impact potential: minimal. Target status: desperate, collapsing, resorting to throwing dirt. William could practically see the dismissal register in Yegun’s posture.
A faint smirk, the first real expression William had seen on the man's face besides focused intensity, touched Yegun’s lips. He lowered the tips of his twin swords almost casually. The aggressive, coiled readiness eased fractionally. The distorting shimmer of the Haste spell seemed to fade entirely, either expired or consciously dismissed as unnecessary. Predictable response sequence initiated, William noted, forcing himself to keep his breathing ragged, projecting pure, panicked desperation. Opponent perceives feint as genuine collapse, assumes trial outcome decided, prepares for clean-up.
“Really?” Yegun’s voice was quiet, carrying easily in the sudden lull, laced with a thread of disbelief mixed with something akin to pity. “Throwing rocks now, F-Rank?” He didn't sound angry, just… dismissive. Like a master watching an apprentice try to hammer nails with a banana. Yet, beneath the dismissal, William thought he detected a flicker of grudging respect in Yegun's eyes. He doesn't surrender. Stubborn.
Yegun began to advance, no longer Hasted, just the confident, deliberate stride of a victor approaching to administer the final, undeniable blow. He was taking his time, ensuring a clean end to the trial.
This is it. Critical window opening.
William, still awkwardly semi-crouched, drew his left arm back. He focused not on Yegun, but on the space just before him. He sucked in a ragged breath, partly feigned, mostly genuine exhaustion, and with a yell that was equal parts pain, frustration, and desperate hope, he flung the handful of stones.
It was a spectacularly awful throw. A pathetic, scattering spray. Most pebbles flew wide, kicking up tiny puffs of dust yards away. Yegun barely shifted his weight, watching the trajectory with deepening amusement. A lazy flick of his left sword batted one stone away. A casual parry with his right deflected two more with dull thwack sounds. He didn’t break stride, his eyes fixed on William, anticipating the easy finish.
Predictable deflection pattern executed, William observed, heart hammering fit to burst his ribs. Opponent attention fully committed to closing manoeuvre and deflecting non-threat projectiles. Optimal window for counter-deployment: NOW.
While Yegun’s gaze and swords were momentarily occupied by the insulting shower of pebbles, William’s right hand, shielded from direct view by his own body, closed around the smooth, familiar river stone in his belt pouch.
Initiating Operation: Tactical Illumination Surprise, Phase Two, he thought, shoving every scrap of his remaining 58 mana points into the simple, two-rune structure of the Light spell. Executing high-risk mana overload. Please don't just give me a nasty static shock... or explode.
