Infinity Is My Affinity?!?-Chapter 96: Huh. Sweet.
-Wiggle~
A hand-thick green root sprouted in the center of my room, wiggling exactly how I wanted it to.
I thought about it wiggling left, and the cute little thing wiggled left.
I didn’t even have to think too hard. I could actually feel a piece of my subconscious anchored inside it. When I made the root scrape against the floorboards, I felt the friction. It was a dull, numb sensation, but unmistakably there.
"This is going to be so broken once I have a shit ton of MP!" I said, grinning.
I could practically picture it. An entire battlefield covered in massive, writhing roots, snaring my enemies, spreading their arms and legs wide, wrapping tightly around their necks, and-Ahem.
[I really hope this isn’t awakening something in me.]
I could practically feel the System giving me an absolute, judging side-eye.
[Whatever. I’ve got better things to focus on.]
The little calf-length root had only cost me an upfront investment of 5 MP to create.
The System’s description had said the cost was variable, and from what I managed to sprout with just 5 MP, it seemed reasonable enough.
But then again, I hadn’t reinforced its tensile strength yet, nor had I synthesized any neurotoxins.
[Might as well try.]
With a single thought to generate the neurotoxin and a full 55 MP upfront investment, the root suddenly split open.
Thick, sharply curved thorns sprouted all along the length of the root while dimly glowing, yellowish-green veins began pulsing beneath the surface, pushing a thin, water-like green liquid out to bead at the very tips of the thorns.
I pushed up from my chair and walked over, crouching down to take a closer look.
The root actually looked kind of creepy now with those sickly yellow-green veins and the thorns sticking out everywhere; my cute little wiggly was officially gone.
[I’m immune to this stuff, right, System?] I asked, leaning in real close to a drop of literal neurotoxin forming at the end of the largest thorn.
-Ding!
{Correct.}
"Cool..." I whispered with a grin.
I reached out and carefully caught the drop off the thorn with my index finger before rubbing it against my thumb. It didn’t feel thick or sticky. It basically just felt like green-colored water.
I knew there was still a lot more toxin stored inside the root, so, with a quick mental nudge, I forced a few more drops to squeeze out of the thorn and onto my finger.
And then, I gave it a lick.
[Huh. Sweet.]
I practically felt the System glaring at me.
I totally ignored it, instead walking over to grab my empty cola can off the table.
I held the can right under one of the larger curved thorns and gave the root another mental squeeze.
And the green toxin started pouring off the thorn and into the can like a leaky faucet. Once I had enough for a decent swig, I mentally turned the tap off.
"Okay," I muttered, swirling the highly lethal neurotoxin around the bottom of the can. I brought it up to my nose and took a whiff. It smelled sweet, like a citrusy fruit.
With a shrug, I just knocked it back and took a massive gulp.
[Holy hell, this is actually good. It’s like a weird mix of iced tea and fruit juice. I like it!]
For the third time in five minutes, the disappointed weight of the System’s absolute side-eye pressed down on my shoulders.
"Okay, one last test," I whispered to myself, wiping the leftover ’green tea’ off my lips.
With another thought, I started a slow infusion, channeling mana directly into the root at a flat 55 MP a second. I watched the root rapidly shift and darken, going from green to a yellow, then to brown, dark brown, and finally a dense, pitch-black.
On a subconscious level, I could actually feel the root growing stronger and more durable.
[Okay. Since controlling these things takes up a chunk of my cognition, the more roots I spawn, the heavier the brain-drain is going to hit.] I rubbed my chin, working out the math.
[Guess, I’ll just have to use my Ice reinforcement’s cognition boost to offset the lag.]
And slowly a smile spread across my face.
This was perfect.
Intuitive, highly versatile crowd control. If I’d had this back in the clearing, things never would have escalated that badly.
Satisfied with the purchase, I sent out a quick mental dismissal, and the black root instantly withered, crumbling into dust so fine it practically vanished into thin air.
While I brushed off my hands and settled back into my chair.
"Alright, System," I said to the empty room. "The spell description mentioned a ’Domain’. Sounds important, so what exactly is it?"
-Ding!
{A Domain is a localized field of a practitioner’s mana projected into the surrounding environment. It is the definitive zone for external spell conjuration and sensory feedback.
You have actually been utilizing a rudimentary version of this subconsciously.}
I blinked. "Wait. I have?"
-Ding!
{Correct. Whenever you manifest an ice in front of your fingers, you are momentarily expanding your Domain to that specific coordinate to anchor the spell.}
"Huh." I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Okay, so it’s basically a casting range. Like a Wi-Fi signal for my magic. At Tier 1, what’s my range?"
-Ding!
{Your maximum spherical radius is exactly ten meters. The radius scales predictably with progression. A Tier 2 practitioner possesses a twenty-meter Domain, Tier 3 possesses thirty meters, and so on until Tier 5.}
"Ten meters..." I muttered. "So... can’t just leave my Wi-Fi on all the time? Having a ten-meter radar for ambushes sounds incredibly useful."
-Ding!
{Because a Domain is not a passive radar. It is a highly active, highly detectable projection of your mana.
Expanding it behaves like displacing water; any physical object or foreign mana signature within the radius is enveloped, allowing you to ’feel’ their presence.
However, because it is so perceptible, projecting a Domain outside of active combat is universally considered an act of hostility.
Any practitioner whose mana you touch will instantly feel it. It is the magical equivalent of walking into a crowded room with a drawn sword.
Furthermore, mana naturally resists permeating dense physical matter or foreign mana.
Conjuring a spell inside a solid, closed box, for example, requires exponential effort.}
I tapped a finger against my desk, my mind already running through the tactical applications. "Makes sense. But what happens if two people turn their Wi-Fi on at the exact same time? Like, what if Arlath and I both popped our Domains in that clearing?"
-Ding!
{A clash of Domains is determined by Tier. If a Tier 2 practitioner overlaps your ten-meter Domain with their twenty-meter Domain, their domain will physically overwrite and compress your field.}
I frowned. "So I just lose my casting range? And they can just spawn magic right on top of my head?"
-Ding!
{Negative. The innermost three meters of a practitioner’s Domain is classified as ’Absolute Territory.’ It cannot be compressed or overwritten by external forces, regardless of the tier disparity.}
"Three meters..." I murmured, doing the math in my head. "So no matter how overpowered the guy is, I always have a three-meter death zone where I control the board."
-Ding!
{Correct. Additionally, a Domain does not have to remain rigidly spherical. You may consciously alter its shape such as compressing it into a cone or hemisphere to extend your directional reach at the cost of exposing your unguarded flanks.
However, please note: control stability and casting speed naturally degrade the further the manifestation is from your physical body.}
[So spawning an ice pebble at my fingertips is instant, but doing it at the absolute ten-meter fringe takes actual effort,] I noted.
I let out a long breath, feeling a slow smile creeping back onto my face.
It was basically a tactical turf war. Shaping the Domain, managing the decay, fighting for every meter of space... and it was exactly the kind of technical bullshit I thrived on.
"Good to know," I said, finally pushing myself up from the desk. "Now, let’s sleep... So, what lullaby you’re singing me tonight?"
-Ding!
{Just go to sleep, Destined Hero.}
