“You ntioned a way to stop resistances from forming?” Priam asked, leaping out of his hammock. A mist pant clothed him in an instant. On a whim, he added a dozen light runes inside the garnt. Dimly powered by his aether, they appeared like stars behind a thin cloud. It looked cool, but more importantly, it allowed Priam to work on his aether control. After the battle he had just witnessed, it seed important.
“Penetrating skills, made to hinder resistance formation,” Esmée confird.
“Knew it!” Priam grinned, pulling out a chair for her. Log-a-rhythm conjured a table, and he sat facing Esmée. “With all the manipulations from Eve and her clone, I figured I should’ve gained a mory resistance sooner. Have you known this for a while?”
“My family has spent generations ensuring their opponents don’t develop resistance to their probability manipulation,” she admitted.
“Interesting. So, you can build resistance without the System?”
“It’s more difficult and rarely as effective, but life finds a way…” She frowned in thought, and Priam found her expression adorable. “Take poison, for instance. All royal family children drink a little of it regularly to immunize themselves. Maybe that was a thing on your world?”
“Not exactly,” Priam chuckled, then shivered. “Though they did force to eat endives…”
“What is that?”
“A bitter vegetable, supposedly good for your health.”
“Oh. You don’t like bitterness?”
“I prefer sweetness.” Priam smiled as Esmée blushed. “Back to resistances, taking poison to build up tolerance was a practice back in the day. Supposedly, an ancient king spent his life immunizing himself to poisons until he couldn’t even use them to take his own life when the Romans invaded his kingdom. And there’s also the story of a certain Rasputin. In a way, our vaccines confer resistance to certain diseases, and the more alcohol we drink, the less our nervous system responds to it…” The more he thought about it, the more Priam realized life didn’t need magic to protect itself. “We can develop resistances without the System, even if they’re less effective,” he admitted. “How did your family prevent their enemies from resisting?”
Esmée pointed to her temple. ““My geas prevents from explaining their technique. However, the general thod is straightforward: you have to find a flaw in the formation process. Threat detection, cell, mind, or spirit mutation, then synchronization with the soul; if sothing blocks one of these steps, nothing happens.”
Priam nodded thoughtfully. By simulating the enemy’s aetheric signature, his perfected version had prevented Clock from developing kinetic resistance. Thinking of other approaches, he rembered [Radiation Resistance]. Naturally, radiation disrupted aether, preventing a body’s mutant cells from synchronizing with its soul and thus forming resistance. By the sa principle…
“Is it possible to reduce mutation probabilities of—” He trailed off, seeing Esmée wince in pain. He was onto sothing, and her geas deed it her fault. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Despite her words, her eyes were bloodshot. Helpless to aid her, Priam asked Log-a-rhythm for a drink. The table between the two rivals opened to reveal a glass crafted by Bertomne, filled with fruit juice prepared by Blueberry. Almost feels like civilization’s within reach…
“Thanks,” Esmée smiled, taking a sip. Her eyes widened. “This is delicious.”
“Lamnas grafted a bunch of new fruit onto Log-a-rhythm.” Priam let her savor the drink before continuing. “Got any other examples of penetrating skills?”
“Thanks to our rivals, yes. Seth temporarily separates the soul from the body. Dishnu drains aether from his victims with specific plants. Eve… I theorize she forces her enemies to forget resistance at its onset. I’m not sure if she targets aether, spirit, or soul, but she is incredibly skilled.”
To slip past Priam’s adaptability with all his synergies, that fae was indeed a monster.
“There are as many thods as there are Concepts,” Priam mused, then grimaced. “Kazuki, Jasmine, and I are behind in this area.”
“Do you truly need it?” Esmée raised an eyebrow as Priam looked at her in surprise. “The skills I’m talking about are necessary for those with utility Concepts or who fight prolonged wars. Manipulating or imprisoning an enemy requires preventing rebellion or, at the very least, slowing resistance developnt. In your case, the worst that could happen is your opponent gaining a level or two in [Fire Resistance].”
“That could make all the difference,” Priam pointed out.
The princess laughed softly. “I forgot how much you love to optimize everything.”
“It’s served well so far.”
“True,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to develop a penetrating skill.”
Half of Priam’s attention was already on the thought. Pyro could burn aether, and [There is no Heaven] affected the soul. These were strong candidates to hinder resistance formation.
Rembering his fight against Clock, Priam recalled that his opponent’s attacks had two parts. An initial curse disrupted his aether, preventing resistance formation, while the second part attacked. Clever.
The sound of a glass being set on the table snapped him out of his thoughts. Esmée had finished her drink while he was lost in thought. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”
“I noticed.” Her voice was neutral, but her eyes sparkled playfully. “A gold for your thoughts?”
“You an a nickel?”
“I ant a gold coin. Princess’ privilege.”
Priam laughed. “Well, I was wondering if Arnold uses this kind of technique.”
“The Tyrant annihilates his foes too quickly for them to develop anything. They might as well resist Death.”
“Can do.”
The princess laughed.
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