Imri awoke with a start, his mind working to process his situation. He was lying on a cot, with his legs extending beyond the edge. System notification prompted his mind, demanding attention.
Spell Rank Up Dimensional Portal E to D: 3% increase in the spell's mana efficiency
Skill Rank Up Spatial Beacon E to D Spatial Beacon improved to Dimensional Waypoint Dimensional Waypoint (2F): Create a nontangible semi-permanent waypoint relative to a frame of reference. You always know the exact distance and direction of any waypoint while in the same dimension as the waypoint or the direction to the nearest dimensional rift if in another dimension. The waypoint is always considered visible for the purposes of targeting restrictions. The caster is considered closer to the waypoint by a factor of 2.5 for determining mana cost when the spell targets an area within 5 meters of the waypoint. Waypoint may be dismissed at any time but will otherwise exist indefinitely on ambient mana. Mana cost varies slightly by the number of waypoints in the network and the distance from the caster to the target location when creating the waypoint.
Imri quickly reviewed the changes to one of his most important skills. Mostly, it was just numerical changes; he could have more waypoints than beacons, they had a more significant mana reduction effect, and the spell could target a slightly greater area around the waypoint. The only other change was the clause about other dimensions and dimensional rifts. That wasn’t relevant now, but it would be a helpful function if he ever found himself in another dimension.
As he became more coherent, he saw Emelia sitting in a folding chair, her hair a mess and her eyes sunken from lack of sleep. She radiated a mix of concern and annoyance as she noticed him waking.
“What happened?” Imri asked as his mind attempted to piece together just that.
“You collapsed from having no stamina,” she said with a glare. “Do you know what happens when you don’t have any stamina, and you’re losing it faster than you can regenerate it?”
“You have negative stamina?” Imri guessed.
“You’re body starts taking damage. Do you know how stressful it was to see you constantly slipping away,” she stammered, tears in her eyes promptly wiped away on a dirty sleeve.
Imri got to his feet, ignoring his body and Emelia's protests. He closed the distance between them and held her tight.
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted.
“You're not allowed to die,” she said.
“How long was I out?” Imri asked after breaking off the long embrace.
“About six hours,” she said.
“Six hours!?” Imri repeated, unable to believe he had been out for so long.
“You’re lucky that’s all it was; if you didn’t have such monstrous mana regeneration, it would have been much worse,” she scolded him.
She seemed to be gearing up for more lecturing when Major Harper stopped by. “Imri, good to see you awake. I’d like to bring you up to speed on the current situation,” the major said, immediately prompting a glare from Emelia.
“He isn’t going anywhere until I say he is completely recovered,” Emelia insisted. Both men immediately acquiesced to her demands.
“You should get some rest as well,” Imri pointed out. He immediately knew that was the wrong thing to say, and he was only saved by Emelia needing to stifle a yawn. She eventually admitted to needing rest and commandeered the cot Imri had just vacated.
“So, I take we’re not in imminent danger?” Imri asked as they walked towards the new command center.
“Sylvi managed to destroy something called a Hive Mind Node. We’re not entirely sure how it works, but we think it's a psychic conduit that connects all the Azala, sort of like a server outage, only much more critical to how the Azala functions. Losing connection temporarily incapacitated them,” the major explained.
“Temporarily? As in, they are functioning again?”
“Yes and no. They’re alive and physically capable but no longer coordinated; they’re essentially just mindless monsters now. Defended positions, like this base, are safe enough, but they’re wreaking havoc on the civilian surviving human population. It will be days, if not weeks, before we can eliminate the threat completely.”
Imri had to resist the urge to go out and personally hunt down Azala, regardless of what Emelia had said. However, a quick check on his resources told him he was still far from recovered. His MP was just under a quarter of its maximum, and his stamina was even lower. Even his HP was missing a considerable percentage. The over-channel debuff was still active, albeit at a modest penalty. If he went and started fighting before he recovered, it would only result in him being less efficient, at best.
“Anything else?” Imri asked, afraid of the answer.
“Most of the Nexuses were taken, with the one in this base being the lone exception. We’re working on reclaiming them, but they are currently unaccounted for. The remaining barons also want to resume our discussions and are eager to come to some sort of arrangement,” Major Harper explained.
“Without the nexuses, our main demand is moot. I also don’t think they will be in a position to open trade or aid us in the upcoming conflict. This has become a humanitarian relief effort, just like the other groups we’ve encountered,” Imri said mournfully.
“We did gain valuable intel; we now know a key enemy vulnerability and a general idea of their tactics,” Major Harper pointed out.
“I doubt the same weakness will present itself again. I’m guessing they only had this vulnerability because it was an attack of opportunity. When they come for Celestia, we need to count on them having redundant nodes or other countermeasures,” Imri surmised.
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
“Hundreds of thousands of people likely died in this attack, and it was only the start of the war,” Major Harper said gloomily. “On a more pleasant note, there is someone who you should see.”
The major led the way through the field hospital. However, the mysterious person was not where the major had expected. The doctor directed them to the roof, muttering about how patients shouldn’t be smoking.
The man in question was instantly recognizable, even from a distance. It was Rayden. He looked a bit worn down, but there were no obvious signs of physical injury. His hand trembled as he took a deep drag from a cigarette, with several spent butts near his feet.
“Rayden, you’re alive,” Imri shouted in glee.
“It will take more than a bit of mind control to keep me down,” he said before taking another drag.
“I hated that I couldn’t save you. If there was anything I could have done…” Imri said.
“Imri, it’s fine. You’re not personally responsible for everyone. Besides, if it wasn’t for you, I would have been overrun sooner,” the stout man said with a shrug.
“How did you escape?”
“I didn’t really do anything. Apparently, I was more valuable as a puppet than as a host. When the node got destroyed, I was back in control,” he explained.
“And you're ok now?”
Rayden laughed. “I’m definitely not ok. I can’t even begin to describe how awful it is to be aware but not in control of your own body. That wasn’t even the worst part; I could hear them as if thousands of Azala were crammed into my head. Including other people who became hosts while they were still alive. I’ll hear those mental screams for the rest of my life.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a tough son of a bitch. You just focus on giving them hell for what they’ve done,” Rayden said.
----------------------------------------
Russ remained focused despite his dwindling mana. When he had become a Seeker Acolyte, this was not what he expected. However, this had been giving him far better experience than seeking random objects that had been hidden.
Christoph smiled encouragingly as if that would help him find the Nexus faster. The team of adventurers they had hired was not so relaxed, remaining on high alert for any Azala that might wander by, even though they somehow hadn't encountered any yet. The adventurers weren’t elite Celestia soldiers with enchanted weapons, but they weren’t sheltered citizens of New Chicago.
Russ instinctively felt that they were nearly there. The Azala who had claimed the nexus was just around the corner, so he relayed that information to the rest of the team.
“Time for the rest of you to earn your wages,” Christoph said with a sly grin.
“What exactly are you doing here?” a short-tempered woman named Rachel asked.
“Fortune smiles on my endeavors,” the merchant priest said.
“Some help that is,” Rachel muttered.
“It’s fine; we can handle a few uncoordinated Azala,” their leader, Olivia, said.
The team of adventures moved to engage, leaving Russ and Christoph alone.
“You’re actually doing something, aren’t you?” Russ asked.
“You think I would risk my own life for no reason? Of course, I’m doing something; why do you think we haven’t run across any Azala so far?”
“Stealth and a carefully prepared route,” Russ guessed with a shrug.
“As if. It was Lady Nuana of Fortune smiling on this endeavor,” Christoph declared.
“Why not say that you’re using magic? Do you like having people pissed off at us?”
“I like having people underestimating me. There is a big distinction there,” he pointed out.
The sounds of fighting echoed out, cutting off their conversation. The duo waited patiently, not wanting to talk over the noise, though neither was concerned about the outcome. Since the Azala had lost their node, they were far easier targets, and each member of the adventuring team was all at a decent level.
A few minutes later, they returned, covered in brackish Azala blood. Despite the mess, the team was in good spirits. Even the ordinarily irritable Rachel had a rare smile.
“I take it you got the item?” Christoph asked.
“And a title on top of that. With easy experience to boot. This mission would be worth it, even if we weren’t getting paid so well,” Olivia said.
“We could renegotiate,” Christoph jokingly suggested, a comment that made Rachel shoot him a murderous glare. “Joking,” he quickly added, seemingly genuinely concerned that the woman would attack him.
“One down, three to go,” Russ said.
----------------------------------------
Ashlyn returned to the building where the group was sheltering. She and Sylvi had been doing what they could for the displaced civilians, acting as scouts and protectors. On more than one occasion, they had to fight off small groups of Azala, but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle.
She dropped her laden pack to the ground. She had looted nearby stores for food and medicine and hadn’t been the only one doing so. It reminded her of the state of Minneapolis at the start of the integration. Hopefully New Chicago wouldn’t become another ruin.
“What’s up with your eyes?” A boy asked as she handed out supplies. It was strange to think of him as a civilian and a boy; he was probably only a couple of years younger than her.
“It’s just something I got from the system,” she said simply.
“Cool,” he said awkwardly, unable to look into her eyes now that he had drawn attention to them.
“I should be going; lots of supplies to hand out,” Ashlyn said.
She looked around at all the refugees, knowing she had been in a similar situation just over a month ago. Now, she wasn’t sure what she was. She didn’t entirely belong within Sylvi’s unit. She certainly wasn’t a high schooler anymore. She supposed she would have graduated by now if the system hadn’t flipped everything on its head.
“Are you alright?” Sylvi asked, noticing her strange mood.
“When that last Azala unleashed its psychic attack, what did it make you think?” Ashlyn asked.
Sylvi hesitated for a long moment, something the normally decisive woman never did. Eventually, she answered in a hushed voice, “It reminded me about some mistakes I made when I was young and tried to imply I would never atone for them."
“Was it right?”
Sylvi just shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not, but either way, I can’t change anything about what happened. I can only keep doing my best, and hopefully, that’s enough.”
“And you’re ok with that?”
“Kind of; it’s a work in progress. What about you? I’m assuming you're asking about this because of what you saw.”
“Something like that,” Ashlyn said.
“Want to talk about it?” Sylvi asked after another long pause.
Ashlyn wanted to tell her all about it. No matter how hard she tried, she had never fit in anywhere, and her friends had left her when she wasn’t cool anymore.
‘You don’t belong; she will leave you too,’ the voice in her head had said.
“Not really,” was all Ashlyn could say. Sylvi just nodded and didn’t press the issue.