Chapter Seventy

It roused itself, shocked and no little bit exhilarated that it could escape the mental torpor that often plagued its kind. It considered its position and also took some time to return to the stores it had looked at on the furthest location. It settled in and studied it, then compared it to one of its local stores and found itself quite pleased with its work. It then turned its thought to how to appropriately integrate matrix interaction with the stores. The foreign store did not have an appropriate example of such a matrix interaction system using self-replicating matter, its integration a simple duplication of the local store’s matrix interaction. This gave it pause but he had need of considering another, further distraction.

It had noticed, far distant from its matrix, a small object cautiously observing it. It thought little of it, even grateful, since it could remember this small object having delivered the foreign stores to it. He’d considered, for a time, to strike it down, objects from Absence always a terror. But this one remained polite and distant, never sending detrimental objects. It quickly dismissed it, but always made certain to keep a small awareness of the object, Absence never a safe place and its efforts to drive back Absence ever on going. It turned its thoughts back to self-replicating matter, truly too curious about its applications.

It would take a long time to truly understand this self-replicating matter and even longer to use this new understanding of independent self-replicating matter to truly comprehend how it could shift the matrix interaction system to this incredible self-replicating matter as well. If it could do so, it would certainly release even more of its burden, freeing itself for more matrix creation and maintenance, allowing the stores to self-support… to be independently supportive. It delved deeply, exploring this new thought. It would take a long time; a very long time. But if it could… It grinned and turned towards its work, remembering to resurface from its thoughts on creating a self-replicating matter integration system to regularly redevelop and expand its matrix, but for the first time, it experienced something new. Something that would likely be called joy by any other average person.

* * *

In another plane in Aelthron’s cradle, war raged. Two clans struggled against one another and both sides found themselves relatively equal in power. Today marked the beginning of the end. The two clans had been relatively equal because one clan fought with incredible power, while another’s healers were capable of healing almost any wound easily, their mana bottomless and their efforts powerful. But today, the healers found themselves struggling, wounds taking incredible effort to heal and mana evaporating before wounds that had been simple before. The clan despaired for they could not find how the enemy had cursed them and their healers, but they would not give up.

* * *

One of the greatest swordsman of the planes of Aelthron fought against her enemy with practiced ease. She’d fought against these creatures almost since birth and could easily fight against them. Fighting in the dungeon made combat even easier, the limited chaotic rage of the dungeon driving it always to attack, and so when the opportunity arose for her to deliver the death stroke to the monster, she knew exactly the perfect amount of mana to infuse her weapon with and struck the monster quickly and easily, breaking skin as infusion required. She grinned and stepped back, knowing the creature was dead as her infusion and strike had been perfect. She turned then shuddered when a claw erupted from her belly, pierced her from behind.

Her eyes widened in shock and fear even as she knew herself to be dead. How… it… I’ve killed thousands! It could not take my strike... it could not… the infusion was perfect… I…am dead. I will never survive this wound… I…

The two thoughts twisted between her, shock at her impending death warring with horror that the creature had not died, despite everything saying it should have. Despite her certainty of death, she clung wildly to life and sought ever possible escape. She infused her sword with every drop of her mana, exhausting herself, before swinging behind herself wildly. By luck, or the protection of the gods, her sword struck and she quickly stumbled away and turned to face the monster, her arm covering her belly in horror as she struggled to hold in her intestines. As she turned, relief struck her as she saw the monster collapse dead. She staggered a few times before falling to sit on the floor.

“At least… I will have my revenge.”

This thought released her stress and she gave herself over to her fate. Time passed, and she still breathed easily and well. How… I should be dead… I could never survive. She glanced down at her belly and her eyes widened in horror. See… it is… Blood covered her belly and hand, and she gingerly touched her belly, then more firmly, finding only unbroken skin. She quickly whipped a hand behind her and found the same. She shivered in confusion, three complete mysteries plaguing her mind. It was the perfect infusion… how… and how am I still alive… my … my digits… She glanced at her status, carefully looking at her top digits which she was certain somehow represented her wellbeing and found it distressingly low, in the single digits. She was certain she could not have survived that strike. She was just as certain that the creature could not have survived her infusion. And she could not but help and stare at the brilliant vermillion blood that stained her hands. Maybe… because I was so close to death? But…

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

* * *

The Patriarch of Aelthron had received messages each hour the first day, and a message that morning. All seemed well, but he could not find peace and soon found himself at the monitoring station, concerned for the health of his cradle. Health that seemed to be incredibly beyond anything it’d had before. Despite how well things appeared to be, Aelthron did not appreciate the unknown, especially when it somehow increased the quality of his cradle by such ridiculous amounts. Such increases did not come without a price. Cradle development took millennia… not an afternoon. He shivered.

* * *

He came upon the patient in his room and settled in for another long day of effort. He cursed his luck, wishing his ancestors had been wiser and chosen to become simple healing mages instead of regen mages. Granted, there was a certain prestige for regen mages, their skill to regenerate lost limbs a powerful and incredible source of wealth, but the daily effort week after week to regenerate a simple hand, let alone an entire limb, was painful. Emptying his mana day after day, taking months to finish a task. Focusing with utmost effort to maintain the greatest efficiency to regenerate a limb. And if he failed to appropriately focus, the client was rather unhappy to find a limb that wasn’t really theirs in appearance.

He sighed and settled at the bedside of a once proud warrior who’d lost his leg and began channeling his mana, his mind desperately focused on the other leg and attempting to invert the image so that it would appropriately regrow for the man. A happenstance, one of pure luck, catapulted him to incredible fame.

A young maid came in to nurse the warrior, a beautiful and immensely distracting woman, scantily dressed bearing a collar; a wealthy purchase only the most powerful could afford. She busied herself with keeping the warrior comfortable before escaping the room. It was a short time, only a half a bell, maybe even less, but enough to completely distract him and with her loss, came the realization that he’d lost his focus and likely ruined the man’s leg. He would need to cut off the portion poorly formed and he quickly cut off his mana flow before turning back to the man’s leg with an angry curse.

The curse of anger quickly changed to surprise as he found the man’s leg regenerated almost double his best efforts, and perfectly; an identical mirror image to the man’s other leg. The regen mage breathed in fearful shock, and no little excitement. Fear restrained him, but greed drove him greater than his fear, and he kept his mind blank while feeding his mana into the man’s leg; the one thing all regen mages were told to never do. Doing so caused massive growths and tumors to erupt from the regen, even sometimes causing the death of the patient, but he had to know.

His eyes widened in shock as he saw the leg visibly begin growing again, perfectly, without issue, almost as if the leg had its own image of itself stored within, following it perfectly in its regrowth. The regen healer's breathing quickly grew sporadic. Impossible! This… impossible!

* * *

Farmers are often the least respected of any society, and despite Aelthron’s true concern for his people, farmers as simple commoners proved easy targets for disregard and even abuse. Most farmers noticed very little of the greater things of this world, focusing purely on their small plots of land and growing what they’d learned from parents and grandparents.

This year proved unusual, as the farmers of simple crass foods such as grains and simple vegetables often gracing the tables of common people grew a surplus that left them quite well off. In fact, their simple plots of land somehow magically and quickly began growing grains and vegetables with ease and fecundity, flooding the homes of friends and neighbors with their amazing surplus. Farmers are simple commoners and very rarely notice the greater things of this world, but they did enjoy a small surge in wealth.

A few small regions suffered a strange blight, much worse than ever before, the blight destroying entire farms and villages of all produce in a matter of months or weeks. The blight was much stronger than ever before, and the simple farmers took some time before they learned to quickly remove blight from their fields with a vengeance. Few heard of the news and farmers were rarely thoughtful of the greater things of the world, but they quickly spoke to their friends and family of the new strength of the blight.

* * *

Many great alchemists of the Aelthron’s cradle found themselves bowing before their various clan lords, begging for forgiveness and struggling to explain why yields were so low. Alchemical plants and great cultivation resources that had been thriving only yesterday quickly exhibited poor health over the next few weeks, and the alchemists found themselves struggling to protect the great wealth of their cultivation materials, magical plants, and great beasts. They took some time, but quickly strengthened the mana condensers and accumulators, barely staving off disaster. Many clans found themselves quickly beggaring themselves as they struggled to develop arrays to more efficiently capture mana and increase the density surrounding their herbal gardens and incredible cultivation resources. Even those in storage began to decay at a rapid pace, needing a much greater density in mana.

* * *