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Cross-Worlder
Chapter 3- Off Cycle Job

Chapter 3- Off Cycle Job

Being in Talthis was like traveling to the past, and one of the most obvious indicators was a strict adherence to a social hierarchy that would have made even the old-timers back home blanch.

Which was why Glenn was surprised to see a group of mere commoners assaulting a magi. Even if said magi was just a student.

He stayed still behind the tree trunk, as the retinal scanners began categorizing the figures. Not that he needed to be too careful. The camouflage imprint rendered his entire body near-invisible to the naked eye, and there was enough noise from the surrounding forest any sound he’d make.

Entity: Student (Category 1)

Entity: Unknown (Category ?)

Entity: Unknown (Category ?)

Entity: Unknown (Category ?)

Entity: Unknown (Category ?)

Entity: Unknown (Category ?)

The girl waved her staff at the bandits. A pale stick with a glowing gemstone engraved at the end. The bandits drudged around the road, cutting off her way of escape. He could see they were talking, though he couldn’t hear anything worth a damn. Glenn tapped his right ear.

[Amplifying sound]

“Back!” said the student. “I am a magus! You dare!?”

“Or what?” One of the bandits edging around the staff. “You going to hurt us?”

“You’ve got nowhere to go girl,” said another bandit, a woman from the looks of it though the muscled arms past her sleeveless shirt were as thick as any laborer. She cracked her knuckles, and moved forward.

“Are you all mad!” said the student, hesitation and uncertainty present in her voice. “The law of the emperor is clear! Assaulting a magus is punishable by-“

“Punishable if we get caught,” said another bandit. “And right now, I don’t see anyone who’d do the catching.”

He remembered this specific student in the past year. Quiet was the first thing that came to mind, given how much time she spent studying in a lone table by the windowsill. Studious, judging by the stack of books and notes she kept on her person. Kind too, at least from how she mannered herself to Glenn and other commoners.

The cat was new though. It continued to growl at the bandits, threatening but not yet attacking.

“A young one like her would fetch a nice price in undertown,” said another. “That and the weapon. What do you think boss?”

“I’m not one to turn down a little extra coin,” said a bulky man standing on the far side of the road. “But as they say, when opportunity calls…”

Glenn pursed his lips. His gut instincts told him to help. Even despite his issues with the ruling authorities of this world, this student was little older than a child. She hadn’t done any wrong, at least not yet. It was made worse by the fact that he knew what happened in undertown. An area of the city shielded from the light of the laws. A breeding ground for some of the worst examples of humankind.

However, protocol was clear. Do not interfere in the ways of this world unless absolutely necessary.

And it wasn’t like she needed a hand either. Academy students were true and tried fighters before they started school, which made the situation here akin to a school of minnows trying to bully an adolescent shark.

So, he decided to observe. That much at the very least. The information might come helpful later when he finessed up his tactical analysis of this world. Glenn swiped the control panel hugging the bottom of his vision, pushing a few of the options.

[Recording…]

The student swiveled her head. Concern and uncertainty present on her face. She looked for any sign of the guards, who most likely would never arrive. Most of the patrols moved about the walls; with few to none entering the forest after dark. That raised another question as to what all of them were doing here past hours, but that was of secondary importance.

The student came to the same realization, and her expression shifted to grim determination. Light flickered out her body as mana drew out her core.

A red aura enveloped her body, revealing the identity of her favored element. Ignis. The element of fire and destruction.

The brushes shook and the trees rustled as animals and birds fled as they felt the impending danger. Insects and frogs fell silent. Their croaking replaced by crackling as a blaze of fire burst from the tip of her staff.

“Ignis Flagellum.”

The flames twisted into the strands of a whip. A beginner-level fire spell taught during first-year training. Class 1 by modern power standards.

She swung the staff, causing the whip to veer around. A few leapt backwards, dodging away from the inferno.

“Little girl has teeth!”

Something was off in their reaction. Any commoner would have prostrated themselves at the sight of the spell. These bandits did no such thing. They acted as if they were toying with her.

The student took a step forward, trying to force an opening for an escape. Glenn noted hesitation in her swings. Poor use of leverage and momentum. Lack of accuracy. It was evident she was not a fighter.

Then the female bandit stepped into range as the whip whistled toward her. She reached out with one arm, and caught all the strands with a bare hand.

The flames however, did nothing. The bandit smirked as a brown outline enveloped her body and a series of square shapes shone from her forearm. The student’s eyes widened into panic. A series of square shapes shone from her forearm.

Glenn froze, recognizing the markings. An imprint of some kind.

“Surprised?” said the woman. “Didn’t see that coming did you? Guess you aren’t as good as you thought you were.”

The other bandits laughed, as auras appeared around their own bodies. Blue, green, and brown. Aqua, Aer, and Terra.

It was unmistakable. Spirit imprints which drew out one’s potential. Such knowledge was the crux of Glenn’s own powers. Commonplace in his world but heretical here. As far as he was aware, it was not something common bandits should have.

And those markings bore a striking resemblance to modern spirit imprints.

The student was in trouble.

He surveyed the area as his retinal scanners switched to combat mode. The entire field broke down into a series of angles and lines. Avenues of attack and opportunities to maneuver.

Now, however, he had a good reason to intervene. Protocol was to not interfere with the ways of the world, unless absolutely necessary. And one thing that was necessary, was to investigate any potential off-world contact. Or leakages as they were known. After all, their mission here was first and foremost to observe, and secondarily to contain.

“Let’s finish off the girl and get moving.”

This was just what Glenn was looking for. A chance to put his skills to the test, as he had done so for the last fifteen years of his life. He was a simple man with a specialized skillset that he put to use for his country’s needs. However, on a personal level, he enjoyed putting to a specific simple purpose.

Stop bad people. Help good people.

In this case, he could do both. Inquire into a potential off-world leak. Stop a kidnapping in progress.

He checked to ensure his shawl was secure, drew the police baton, and dashed forward.

[Spirit Capacity: 35,300/36,000]

[Active Imprints:

CL 3 (Shadow)- Energy Masking

CL 3 (Shadow)- Camouflage

CL 3 (Aer)- Accelerator

]

[Deactivating: CL 3 (Shadow)- Camouflage]

[Activating: CL 3 (Terra)- Body Hardening]

[Activating: CL 3 (Terra)- Enhanced Healing]

Glenn closed the gap in the time it took to blink thrice. Nobody registered his presence by the time he reached his first target. A skinny fellow with bad teeth and a green aura.

The triangular imprints flared from the man’s forearm, and the baton fell upon his elbow. The imprint dulled as Glenn’s strike cut off the flow of mana from the core. The aura vanished in a puff of smoke.

As the man flinched and opened his mouth. Before he could scream, Glenn shoved a fist into his waist. The blow forced him to buckle and wheeze, before the baton struck again, this time at the center of the torso.

The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious as the direct hit to his unguarded core disrupted the ties connecting his soul to his body. The other bandits started turning, when Glenn dashed toward his next target.

He attacked with straight precise movements, giving them as little time to react. Straight jabs. Targeted swings at vital areas. Every strike maximizing leverage and momentum. Each blow honed through a decade and a half of dedicated practice. Drawn from the best of fighting techniques of his descendants, the legions who made the alien world of Cruxxon their home.

Three bandits lay comatose on the roadside by the time the remaining two realized what happened.

“Shit!” said the bandit leader “Ambush!”

The bandit woman drove forward, reaching with her other hand toward the student’s neck. She made it halfway when Glenn’s baton smashed into her outstretched arm.

Her aura vanished as Glenn ran past her. He could hear the woman shriek behind as she lost her protection against the fire of the whip.

His target however was the leader, who raised both his hands in Glenn’s direction.

Fire sprawled out toward him, which he sidestepped with ease. Panic flashed on the bandit leader’s face as he reached to draw a sword. By the time his hands grasped the hilt, Glenn had closed the distance and smashed the baton into the man’s waist.

The bandit leader coughed and fell, catching himself with his arms. On one hand was a pentagonal imprint shining red.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Glenn stomped on it with a boot, and the man shrieked in pain. As the aura vanished, he kicked the bandit in the waist causing him to crumple flat on the gravel.

All done in ten seconds. Easier than the simulations. Then again, none of these were trained fighters.

He faced the student, who looked at him with shock and surprise. Arms held back with both hands gripping the staff. The female bandit was nothing but a smoldering char on the ground.

Glenn didn’t expect that to happen. Maybe he underestimated the student, or maybe these bandits were stronger than he expected. Either way, he needed to break contact without compromising himself.

“You’re a student from the academy.” Glenn put away his baton. “Aren’t you?”

The girl nodded, as the cat yowled.

[Unidentified Communication Signature detected]

“Ungracious humans. You dare attack those under my protection? I’ll show you-“

Glenn cut off the unwanted sound. He narrowed his gaze on the cat.

Entity: Familiar (Category 0)

He raised his eyebrows. A familiar, which meant this girl was a witch. Recently crowned too, based on the power of her familiar. No wonder she kept to herself. A big secret to keep in an academy where half the archons and magi disliked her kind.

“T-Thank y-“

“Please leave now madam.” Glenn nodded toward the road. “I’ll handle these miscreants. Evening is no time to be dallying about in the gardens.”

The cat continued hissing, but the student shook her head in acknowledgment. She picked up her familiar by its haunches and ran with her back turned.

As she disappeared down the road Glenn sighed. If everything went well, she’d assume that he was just a guard and this incident would draw no further notice.

The bandit leader stirred. Glenn tucked his shoe under the man’s waist and flopped him over. The man groaned, one hand clasped over his waist, while the other with the imprint was splayed out as a bruised swollen wreck.

Glenn knelt over him, wincing at the smell. An unpleasant odor of sweat, alcohol, and other bodily fluids.

“Those markings.” Glenn pointed at the swollen hand. “Where did you get them?”

The man’s face twisted into a glare, even as he wheezed desperately for air. His mouth puckered up.

Glenn saw what was coming and flicked a finger.

[Activating: CL 1 (Aer)- Air Burst]

As the glob of split left his mouth, a pack of compressed air slapped it back to the man’s face.

“Unwise.” Glenn watched as the man grumbled as his own spit stung his eyes. “I’ll ask again, where did you get those markings?”

“P-piss off,” said the man.

“Are you really in a position to make any threats?” said Glenn. “Is it really worth your life for whoever gave you these markings? We can do this all night if we have to.”

The last part wasn’t true, but Glenn kept it to himself.

“I ain’t telling nothing,” said the man. “You won’t get a word out of me.”

“Loyalty in a criminal,” said Glenn. “That’s rich.”

“Pis-“

Glenn stomped on the man’s chest, disrupting his core’s connection to his body. The bandit leader gasped then fell unconscious.

It was clear he wasn’t going to get anything out of him, and anything spouted through pain was going to be of questionable worth. Torture was very rarely effective, especially as a solo tool.

His retinal scanners archived the man’s face and the spirit-imprint on his arm for later. Then he flipped him onto his back, pulling up his shirt while ignoring the stench. He withdrew a bottle from his belt, filled with a white powder.

Glenn focused pale spirit energy into his finger, and dipped it into the capsule. The powder clung to his finger, and he drew a tracking sigil on the man’s flesh. When he finished, the marking flashed once then vanished from sight. Still there but invisible to the naked eye.

If one was faced with an unwilling informant, then it was best to turn them into an unwitting informant. They would all wake up in a few minutes, long before any guards would likely arrive.

One off-cycle job. One potential leakage. Maybe this year wouldn’t be as dull as the last one.

He stepped over to mark the four remaining survivors.

***

Glenn passed through the nano-steel door, removing the shawl wrapped around his head and breathing in the cool underground air.

Ancient stone pillars dotted the cavern he had entered. Decorational engravings long faded away marred its edges. Groundwater dripped along countless stalagmites lining the ceiling, which in turn lay under countless layers of dirt and rock up to the unknowing denizens of the town of Esthel. A few passageways led out of the rectangular cavern to other parts of the ruined structure. Passageways that Glenn and Galvin had collapsed weeks after they arrived to prevent any inquiring natives from stumbling upon them. Not that they had to worry, nobody had bothered to come down here in centuries.

A concrete bunker strutted out from one side of the cavern like a tumor, while at the center stood an enormous altar in the shape of a circle, enough to fit probably at least a dozen horses side by side. That or three armored personnel carriers.

A gateway. Once one of many staging grounds by which the seven legions ventured to take the fight to the C’thraxxi horde.

Galvin stood at the gateway’s edge, taking off and reorganizing boxes of supplies off a pallet. The portal stone at the top of the altar fizzled from recent use. Glenn realized he must have arrived right after their weekly resupply package had been delivered.

“Oh, hey Glenn,” said Galvin, who ruffled through the boxes without glancing back at him. “Everything go well?”

“I got what Brennan wanted.” Glenn began moving over to the older man. “We might have a problem though.”

“Eh?” Galvin hefted a large case of Imprint powder off the pallet. “How big are we talking here?”

“Potential Leakage.” Glenn hefted a crate which rattled as he picked it up. Labeled as biodegradable transmitters. “I found locals with modern imprints.”

Galvin perked up, raising an eyebrow.

“Really? We’ll talk more about it during our weekly sync. But for now…”

He tossed two cardboard boxes over. Glenn caught them, taking a look at the label for both. Practice Droid Part CXE-432 (Arm). Personal Letters (Agent Glenn).

“Let’s go get some dinner.” Galvin picked up two more boxes, personal letters for himself and Gale. “I whipped up ribs for tonight. And quit breaking the droids. Those things are expensive.”

“Didn’t think you were a miser.” Glenn rolled his eyes and followed Galvin to the bunker door. “Old age finally catching up to you?”

“Bah!” said Galvin. “Watch your tongue snapling. Or else we can settle it in the sparring grounds.”

“Sounds fine to me,” said Glenn.

“Mode of combat is grappling,” said Galvin.

“Now that’s hardly fair,” said Glenn.

“Deal with it,” said Galvin. “Now let’s get going.”

The door opened to let them through, revealing the same room with the couches from before, albeit a bit livelier. Glenn sniffed the air, partaking in the aroma of meat and fat broiled to perfection. His mouth watered as he detected a touch of Galvin’s personal spice-blend. An ancestral recipe birthed from centuries of combining herbs and spices to turn the experience of eating into an ecstasy of joy.

Gale sat on one of the couches, a pile of clean bones on his plate as his fingers and mouth worked on cleaning up a second set of ribs.

“Whoa slow down there,” said Glenn as he set the knapsack and package on the floor. “I know you’ve wanted to bulk up but you’re not going to gain any weight that way.”

“Ha… Ha…” Gale rolled his eyes, letting the bare bones clatter to the plate and began licking his fingers. “Already know that’s a lost cause. Even more with all the work coming up.”

“Didn’t think talking with kitten counted as physical labor.” Glenn smirked over, grabbing a plate and a rack of ribs from the tray. “Or have you…”

“No,” said Gale. “Besides it being a clear breach of operations protocol, which requires all personal relationships with the locals to be of a strictly platonic nature at the closest, she has a name, and it isn’t some animal.”

“Kind of hard to remember when she keeps wearing those cat-ears.” Glenn took a seat on the opposite couch and started chewing on a rib.

“It’s an ancestral item that carries an enormous amount of respect and cultural importance. Maybe not in our socio-cultural paradigm but certainly in theirs.”

“Really?” Glenn swallowed the meat, savoring the flavors. He pointed the bare rib at Gale. “Because the students are the ones that gave her that name you know.”

“Wait… what?”

“Yes really. Sure flies in the face of that last bit of word salad you puked out.”

“Always talking about the same things.” Galvin shook his head and settled on the couch between them. “Divines help me, the two of you are starting to act like those cherry teenagers.”

“Whatever you say old boy.” Glenn finished another rib, nodding his head and savoring the flavors. “Damn good stuff. You see Gale, this right here is something deserving of enormous respect and cultural importance. A good old fashioned barbeque sauce.”

Gale rolled his eyes, although he started on another rib himself.

“Alright,” said Galvin. “Settle down kiddos. It is about time for our sync. Let’s get to it.”

Galvin waved his hands, and the operations center they used as a table lit up. Holographic boxes with the details of their weekly synchronization appeared, bringing up mission requirements and the like.

“All the researchers have delivered their weekly reports,” said Galvin. “I’ll be consolidating them for delivery through the portal tomorrow. With that taken care of, we’ll need to prepare for adjustments in the local culture. Namely, the fact that the academy starts back up tomorrow.”

Glenn nodded and Gale followed suit. Maintaining appearances was a key part of their job here.

“We’ll be following the schedule as planned,” said Galvin. “Glenn you’ll take daytime operations with the shop. Gale you’ll manage deliveries, update the local landscape, and report any fringe issues that you pick up through hearsay. I’ll be building up relationships with the locals. Cover operations for the researchers are all going as planned.”

He brought up an array of profiles along with their locations in the city and their purpose.

Sally Melcroft, Physicist/Chemist (Alchemist)

Brennan Barkha, Biologist (Butcher)

Troy Rheighart, Economist (Merchant)

Marie Clemswell, Sociologist (Courtier)

James S’vil, C’thraxxi Specialist (Controller)

Everyone was based in the city except James, who was perched far in what the locals called the Northern wastelands.

“Gale you got any updates?”

“Nothing major,” said Gale. “Analysis of multiple intelligence sources indicate the situation at the school will remain much the same as the previous year. Although, the addition of the new instructor “Lucille Avalade” will likely serve as an unknown variable. Latest political report from Doctor Clemswell indicates she is a bit of a traditionalist.”

“Traditionalist eh,” said Glenn. “So, a strict adherent to the hierarchy then?”

“Unfortunately,” said Gale. “The majority of instructors so far lean towards reform. Doctor Clemswell report suggests she was stationed here by traditionalist factions for that very reason. Want to make sure their kids are taught right I guess.”

“Hm…” Galvin brushed his chin. “I’d like to inquire on that part a bit. Doctor Clemswell will be out of sector right?”

“Correct,” said Gale. “She will be accompanying a group of reformists on a tour of the country with the third prince. She will likely be unavailable for the time-being.”

“Divines have mercy on her,” said Galvin. “Can’t imagine she’s going to be happy stuck with those uppity folks all by her lonesome. Especially for that long. Anyway, guess we’ll have to wait until she returns. Glenn, you’re up.”

“On it.” Glenn started shifting the holographic boxes, bringing up the latest he had. “Supplies are stockpiled for bakery to be running at 80% expected capacity. Tables are set to be arrayed per request. Billboard for civic requests routed through the school department is current with requested research materials posted. Sufficient masking has been done to convince locals they are for procurement of local beverages…”

Glenn stopped upon seeing how hard Gale was trying to stifle his laughter. He then turned to Galvin who had a smile creeping up his beard.

“Come on guys…” Glenn raised an eyebrow. “Is it really that funny?”

“No,” said Galvin. “It’s…”

“It kind of is,” said Gale. “Glenn Albatross. Unsung hero of the Union. Now running a bakery in another world.”

“Oh, come on.” Glenn sighed. “I’ve done sillier shit in the past. And besides, how is this any different from everything you all are doing.”

Gale just burst out in laughter and Galvin just shook his head, although Glenn could see the chuckle under his mustache.

“Sorry.” Gale wiped the tears from his eyes. “It’s just well… because it’s you. Very uncharacteristic. Anyhow, I’m good.”

“Right…” said Glenn. “Everything else is set for tomorrow, but I found something on today’s off-cycle request.”

He brought up the image he took of the imprint on the bandit leader’s hands.

“Is that what I think it is?” Gale’s eyes narrowed in concern.

“Yep.” Glenn brought up more images of the earlier fight. “Spirit-imprints. Tailored for elementalists. I found them on a troupe of bandits in the highborne gardens.”

“Always knew security there was lax.” Gale shook his head. “The symbols are a bit rough but it looks about right. What do you think Galvin?”

“Hm…” Galvin brushed his beard. “Possible leak but doubt it. Might be something the locals developed on their own. Did our scanners pick up any unmarked crossworld activity?”

“Nothing so far,” said Gale. “We haven’t found anything similar to modern imprinting in the past year though.”

“I can investigate further,” said Glenn. “I had tracking sigils placed on them.”

“Wait,” said Gale. “You got in contact with them?”

Glenn shrugged. “It was quick. Nothing flashy. Student was left thinking I was a guard.”

“Hm…” Galvin parsed through the footage of the fight. “That’s one of Instructor Valera’s students, right?”

“Aw…” said Gale. “How sweet. Acting hero for the damsel in distress. Didn’t think you had a soft streak to you.”

“Hardly.” Glenn glared at the younger man. “I was only investigating further. What happens to the student is none of my concern. I was only interested in pursuing the potential leakage.”

“Sheesh,” said Gale. “You could take it better after all the crap you give me. Just felt like it was natural given all you did for her group of students last year.”

“Again,” said Glenn. “Nothing personal. Just doing my part in this operation.”

“Let’s get back on track gents,” said Galvin. “Anyway, I’ll need to consult a few things before I authorize you to investigate further. This might just be a native development we haven’t caught yet. Let’s not get hasty like that time we thought an undertown gang was using modern guns.”

Glenn nodded. He remembered that little mishap very well.

“Let’s not the same mistake,” said Galvin. “For now we’ll keep a track of the sigils and see where that leads. That being said, you lot have anything else to add?”

“Nope,” said Glenn and Gale together.

“Good,” said Galvin. “Sync is adjourned. Now let’s sit back and enjoy some good food. Tomorrow is going to be busy enough as is.”

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