Csala

Jerome’s world was just as green as hers. Somehow, she had expected to see something she had never seen before. The flora was a bit less dense. Okay, a lot less dense than on Terra Praeta, but it was still the same green — not that she knew much about plants.

The essence in the air was another thing. How did humans survive on such meager essence? It was so thin that for once, she was grateful she didn’t have to scrounge and scrape up whatever she could of the essence to fill up a nonexistent core. Maybe that’s why the humans who came to Terra Praeta were so weak in comparison to Terra Praetans, except for Jerome. Csala pouted as she remembered their earliest encounter. Then she smiled. It still worked out for good.

She opened her palm in front of her as she flew and thought about essence gathering over it. She had to clear her mind so her thoughts could carry her intent over to her waist chain. Her waist chain responded and she felt it channel essence toward her palm. A mass of shapeless blue-white essence formed and writhed above her palm. Csala was not satisfied with the result, or even the effort it took to get it.

She tried to force it to reshape itself into a perfect sphere but it remained the same. She tried using her psychic energy to shape it and it took the shape, but she was effectively holding it up in that shape with her psychic energy like a container. It was frustrating. Nothing she did could keep it in that shape.

In annoyance, she threw the shapeless mass of pure essence away… or at least she tried. It clung to her — with a finger’s width of space between her palm and itself. And it moved everywhere with her hand. She even flapped back and forth to get rid of it but it didn’t budge. It was like an annoying fly following shit that was stuck to her.

“Urgh!” She activated her ring to communicate with Jerome. “How do I get rid of this blob of essence that’s attached to me!?”

Achilleia answered instead, chuckling. “Use your psychic energy to pull on it toward your palm like a bow is used to pull on an arrow. Then release it in the direction you want.”

The mirth in her voice was annoying but Csala was afraid of snapping at the spirit. Who knows what could go wrong if she did something like that. She did as Achilleia said and the blob of essence shot into the forest, bursting through everything in its path. At least it had some power to it.

Csala concentrated on the journey before her and the Midnight Panther she was leading. After a while of traveling in silence and frustration, they were close.

“You’re almost to her,” she informed the panthergirl racing toward her friend, Tara. The giant panther stood out among the local flora as it raced. It growled in response. “Huh… can’t you speak in that form?”

The panther looked up at her with a scowl. Csala shrugged. “If you can make human expressions, you can speak.” She looked away. She was still frustrated at her inability to use essence like she wanted. The panther growled in frustration as well but also looked away, concentrating on the path she was taking. Csala took a moment to observe her beautiful black fur that reminded her of dusk; her powerful but graceful strides as she pawed the earth in her path.

The panther sniffed the air and growled again, this time with aggression. Csala extended her senses. The panther pushed ahead of her and Csala sensed what had her bothered. Humans. Coreless humans but with strange auras. She shot out into a clearing containing a strange contraption she had never seen before. Giant blue crystals protruded out of the ground in a circle around a cylindrical metal contraption with circular… were those teeth? The contraption’s teeth were rotating inside it. The crystals were all glowing mutely and she could sense the essence in them; essence that felt… different.

“Do not use essence against them?” Achileia’s voice reached her. “You’ll only end up empowering them.”

Tara startled at the voice, she was sure. There was a bit of communication between them Csala didn’t hear but she could tell it was Tara’s first time hearing the spirit’s voice. Csala extended her senses to look for the panther as she hovered midair. The panther had stopped moments before they reached the edge of the clearing and now she was slinking around the edge of the clearing, out of sight.

“Csala!” Tara called out to her excitedly, looking her way. She was facing down ten humans, nine of them, covered from head to boots in metal armor — something she had never seen humans wear, except maybe Jerome. The last one was wearing strange one-piece clothing she had never seen before. Tara either didn’t know the danger she was in or didn’t feel she was in any danger at all. There was quite a distance between them that Csala was comfortable with.

That was until a female armor-clad warrior shot toward Tara. She was so fast that Csala was left bewildered, doubting if she had scanned them for cores before. She was about to defend Tara when Achilleia’s voice rang in her ears.

“Don’t,” the spirit said. “Let her.”

Csala still had no idea what to make of Tialana’s look-alike. Thankfully, she had a name.

The female armor-clad warrior reached Tara in no time. But Tara was ready for her. She blocked the warrior’s sword slash with a fingerless gauntlet and punched her in the stomach. Those gauntlets covered the whole of her forearms. The punch hurled the warrior out of the clearing entirely. Just as soon, an arrow reached her and she dodged to the side. Then another came at her, and another.

Tar dodged as many as she could but they became too numerous. The three archers firing at her had deadly accuracy and team work as they tried to overwhelm her. But Tara’s ring glowed and her skin and leather clothing took on a glossy sheen. She stopped moving and the next volley of arrows hit her… and bounced off.

“This is so awesome!” she squealed in excitement, even as arrow after arrow hit her with incredible force. She just stood there and took them all without any discomfort. Many of them broke on contact and some were deflected.

The Messengers saw that their arrows had no effect on her and decided to change tactics. Another warrior shot toward Tara but she didn’t wait for him to reach her. Tara zoomed toward him, holding up her clenched fist as she went. A sharp, pointy curved blade jutted out of the top of her gauntleted right fist like a claw. Before the male warrior could raise his sword to parry, she stabbed him in the heart.

The sound of metal tearing metal made Csala’s ears ring a little. The metal of his armor tore away like it was made of lard. Tara’s speed carried her forward and her claw-like blade sliced the human in two. Seeing the gore that came out of her victim, Tara bent over and began to retch, trying to throw up nonexistent food in her stomach.

Csala covered her face in embarrassment. “That really doesn’t inspire confidence, Achilleia,” she muttered. Puking at the sight of gore, and during a battle no less, was the height of inexperience. She should have at least held it back!

The spirit’s only response was a snort.

A giant of a man, who sat back on a tree stump and watched the whole fight, gestured with his head. Another armor-clad warrior grabbed his sword, ready to enter the fray. The moment he moved, Sheela attacked from behind him like a formless, bladed shadow. She was gone before the man’s lifeless body touched the soil.

The team of humans became alert, standing up all at once. The leader — who she guessed was the giant man — had been eyeing her for quite some time. She didn’t stare back at him but she could sense his gaze. She refused to look his way, keeping the mystery of her strength. Her ignoring him would play to her advantage.

Another armor-clad woman drew twin blades — short blades, like Csala’s — and stepped in her direction. Tara addressed her as she stood up and wiped her mouth.

“Err… you may want to defeat me first before facing her.”

The female warrior stopped, nonplussed. The already high tension in the air seemed to rise even higher. Now they were all looking at her, the eyes of the men most especially kept flitting between her curves and the space between her and the ground. Have they never seen someone flying before? Well, what mattered most was that they were aware she was very dangerous.

“Demon!” one of them whispered. Csala turned to look at them for the first time. They were now looking at her eyes. Even though most of them wore helmets that covered their faces and eyes, she could feel their gazes on her. And they were scared. Far more than they were before their attention was drawn to her eyes.

“Your red eyes remind them of other beings who are enemies to them, Csala,” Achilleia said to her.

Csala ignored them. Looking back at Tara, she asked, “Are you alright, Tara?”

“I’m okay,” Tara said with a smile, trying to cover her own embarrassment. Csala smiled at her and nodded encouragingly.

Tara reminded her of a time when she was just as innocent. Her own innocence had been worn down little by little over decades as guile took over. Tara looked like hers was ripped out of her in an instant — by a terrifying incident nonetheless, and she was trying to hold onto the remains of it.

The big giant suddenly radiated anger and malice, probably because she was ignoring them as a threat. He stood up and hefted his heavy axe and shield.

“You stand in the presence of the Messengers of Light, demon,” the giant rumbled, addressing her. He had a strange accent and a deep voice. And the way he said ‘demon’ was condescending. It made her hackles rise. “Lay down your arms and we shall show mercy.”

Csala scoffed as he walked with heavy footfalls to the front of the group. “And what were you hoping would come of those words? That I would surrender?” she asked, touching down to the ground with booted feet.

“Standard protocol,” he rumbled again. His stride increased and the ground thumped loudly as he crossed the distance between them. He was still slow though.

Sheela took another of his team members but he had already committed to fighting her. Csala made a show of cleaning her nails as she waited for him to reach her. The moment he stepped within ten paces of her, she moved behind him, startling him. To his eyes, she must have just teleported.

Before he could turn around, she snapped a kick at his knee with her booted foot. Metal armor bent and bones fractured. His knee bent into an unnatural shape and blood began seeping out of it. He grunted in pain as he went down his other knee. Even at that, he was still taller than she was.

The rest of the giant’s team moved as he engaged her. But she was sure the two Sprouts could hold their own against them. These people were stronger than normal humans should be, but not as strong as Sprouts who just returned from Terra Praeta.

The giant whipped his axe around in a wide swing to cleave her in half but she dodged the bladed axe. She dove into his personal space and caught his arm near his shoulder. He was so slow in his movements that it wasn’t a fight at all. With a jerk, she snapped his arm off his body. The giant roared in pain. Csala ignored him and threw the arm with the axe at his team. They reacted in time, scattering away from its path — with good reason. The axe would have cleaved any one of them in two.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Sheela took another one, and then another. She was like a goddess of death on the battlefield. Csala was beginning to like her.

There were four of them left — three hurdled in a circle to protect each other’s backs with their weapons ready. Their leader was huffing and puffing as he bled out on the floor. Csala decided to challenge Tara. If she wanted to stand by Jerome, she had to rise to the challenge.

“There were ten of them, Tara,” she began. Tara gave her a confused look. “Sheela has killed five…” she let the moment draw out for a while. “You… have only killed one.”

The giant’s head rolled in Tara’s direction and stopped at her feet.

“Six to one,” Csala said.

“Urgh! This is not a game, Csala,” Tara complained.

She shrugged. “Might as well be.”

“Who the fuck are you people!” one of the remaining three Messengers screamed. The three of them tried to walk away from the clearing, in a direction Sheela hadn’t attacked from. Smart, but someone walked out of the forest toward them and they stopped in their tracks.

Nyx.

Even Csala felt a jolt of fear for a moment but then she noticed the dragoness’ powerful aura wasn’t present. In fact, she felt like a normal human — well, a Sprout. How was that possible? Csala resisted the temptation to scan her. That would be inappropriate.

“Leave the one in the strange apparel alive,” the dragoness drawled lazily, not bothering with the fight, as she walked toward the center of the clearing, toward the strange contraption.

The clearing was deathly silent. Only Nyx’s light footsteps could be heard. And the rustling of leaves. Why wasn’t she putting on boots?... Well, that wasn’t her concern, as long as she didn’t get eaten by the dragoness. Csala was sure succubi would taste delectable to the dragoness.

Csala bowed slightly, drawing the attention of the Messengers. “Of course…”

“Nyx is fine,” the dragoness said, squatting beside the strange contraption. It was at most two feet in height from the ground.

“Yes, Lady Nyx,” Csala said. There was no way she was going to call such a terrifying creature by name.

Tara shot toward the Messengers and two heads rolled off shoulders. “Ah!” she exclaimed in excitement. “Two at once! Can you beat that Sheela?”

The Sprout in question peeled herself away from the shadows of the forest and walked toward her friend, smiling. “You did good, Tara.” She smiled sweetly at her, cocking her hip to the side. “But it’s seven to three. So I win.”

The last man fell on his butt and started muttering in hysteria.

~~~

“Are these guys clones, Achilleia?” Jerome asked as he looked around. The ground was littered with the bodies of Messengers he had just slain. The group was an exact mirror of the one he previously slew with the exception of the bear. This group was all humans — ten of them, with one giant who wielded a great axe and shield. Their maintenance guy was also the same person he killed not quite long ago.

“I’m sure there’s a pretty decent explanation for this, Xerae. The Church has never worked to clone people before.”

Jerome stripped their bodies of their gear and gathered them into his void space. No need to waste perfectly good steel. So this is new then. They must have sent a whole army of clones to fight this war. Ah! The scale of the war seemed to expand before him and the consequences of losing became even more dire.

“An inexhaustible army of clones, probably. We should assume as such,” Achilleia said and he felt her presence recede. She seemed to be processing her thoughts or searching her nexus or something.

Jerome squatted down beside the contraption creating the suppression field to study it. A bunch of large crystal stones were stuck in the earth around a cylindrical device that was only two feet tall from the ground up. Metal gears kept turning inside it, operated somehow by the crystals protruding out of the ground.

The first weird thing Jerome noticed was that the crystal stones held their essence firmly. Normal crystal stones dissipated in the air but these didn’t. And he could find no evidence of runes or scripts on them that were meant to preserve essence. Only Vorthe’s ajanai were capable of doing that from all he knew. He scanned the blue crystals and was shocked at what he found.

“Achilleia,” he called. “What do you think of this?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Xerae. It’s not natural essence. But it’s also not a form of mutated essence. At least not one I’m aware of.”

They were quiet for a while, pondering the crystals.

Is it accurate to call it ascended essence? He asked. Achilleia gave him a mental shrug.

Jerome reached for one and touched it. Nothing seemed to happen at first. The crystal felt natural to the touch — like any other crystal stone. Then it started pulling on his essence. The pull was strong. Stronger than he anticipated.

“Xerae,” Achilleia cautioned.

He concentrated harder, fighting the crystal for control. The crystals began to flash with white light one after the other and the pull on his essence increased. The air around them gave off sustained vibrations in time with the flashes. The more crystals flashed, the greater the pull. And there were several of them!

“Xerae!”

Jerome took his hand off the crystal and the flashing lights calmed. He watched as the color of the crystals turned from their natural deep-blue color — the color of pure essence — to pure white. They now had an iridescence to them, and depending on the angle, a myriad of colors swirled around them.

Just like his core.

“Incredible!” Jerome whispered.

“No, Xerae,” Achilleia said. “Not incredible. Those things can suck you dry in minutes.”

What do you think will happen if we take it apart? Will the crystals still behave in such a way? I see no wards on this thing.

“We can give it a shot.”

Jerome coated his hands in leather gloves. The leather gloves were enchanted with protection runes. He pulled on the first crystal and uprooted it from the ground with little effort. It was huge! Only about a third of it was above ground. The moment the crystal left the ground, the other crystals dimmed and the suppression field weakened. He left them as they were for now.

“There you are.” There were glowing scripts buried in the ground under the crystals. “Vision,” Jerome said, and his X-ray vision took the forefront of his eyes. The world around him seemed to peel back in layers of opacity, becoming less opaque so he could see what was underneath it all.

A scripted circle surrounded the contraption underground, drawing power from the crystals while powering the strange cylinder with gears. Jerome’s nanite went to work, overlaying reality with virtual lines of golden light that helped him see a pattern in the workings of the many gears.

The gears were helping to support the outer structure of the cylinder, keeping it from imploding — which didn’t make sense to him.

“Xerae, space is super compressed inside that thing!”

What!? He reared back.

“Nyx just dismantled one and there is a dark bead inside. A tiny thing she almost missed. You need to finish up here and go help her deal with it.”

So it’s dangerous then. Is it still safe to keep dismantling this thing?

“Sure. I’ll guide you, Xerae.”

You sound like this is a good thing.

“Oh, it is. This is a chance to study something from beyond our plane of existence. Because trust me, the Church didn’t create these beads. They had to have been gifted them.”

A thought occurred to him but before he could test it Achilleia spoke again, “Don’t you dare, Xerae! The jade in your ring can counter ascended elements but this is the handiwork of someone more skilled, and far more powerful than we know.”

And you know that, how?

“Not just anyone can do something like that, Xerae. It feels like an independent void space, not tethered to anything!”

Very well. Jerome nodded in understanding, seeing the importance of the beads — void beads. The Church had a Patron — maybe a god of light or something, from beyond this plane. Such a being would be able to hand out compressed space like it was candy. The maintenance guy had mentioned someone from before, a ‘Madru’ and his bride. Sounded like a bad guy. The name even sounded dark.

“You read my mind, Xerae.” Achilleia chuckled at the irony of her words. She was the one always reading his mind. “The Church does have a Patron God. After all, they worship him. Madru is… forget Madru for now. And ‘void bead’ is apt.”

Jerome took apart the cylindrical contraption with the deftness of his psychic energy. Its parts were put together using a variety of hinges that seemed complex at first but were quite simple after a few tries. It was like solving a puzzle. But the Church hadn’t put much thought into crafting the cylindrical body, he was sure. The void bead inside it was the main attraction.

If he was on his own, finding the bead would have been impossible. Because no matter how much he was assisted by his nanites, he just wasn’t able to sense space that was folded in on itself into a sphere.

“If you had mistakenly touched it, Xerae, it would have probably swallowed you whole… depending on how big the space inside it is and its gravitational pull… or torn off your arm.”

Jerome shivered slightly. That was humbling… very humbling. The contraption came apart and its parts hovered midair, slowly circling what he supposed was the center.

“Wrong, Xerae. The void bead is below the point you’re observing. A few inches down.”

Question, though. What happened to the first contraption I destroyed? There must have been a void bead inside it, yes?

“Sure, Xerae. If you hadn’t charged in like a missile, we might have been able to recover it.”

Are you saying I destroyed it? That sounds impressive…

Achilleia scowled at him. “Don’t get a big head. We don’t know what might have happened to the bead. I suggest we go back and find out… Use Charybdis.”

Jerome materialized the spear and pointed its tip at the air, a few inches away from the point Achilleia noted. The air in front of Jerome warped before shrinking in circumference into the shape of a tiny sphere. The sphere fought against him for a split second but was sucked into Charybdis, which began to vibrate noiselessly in his hand.

And just like that, he dealt with something that would have been impossible even for a Spirit Realm artist. It paid to have a highly advanced AI as a partner.

Jerome sensed a shift in the flow of essence in the air at once.

“This thing was siphoning essence from the air.” He felt Charybdis stretch somewhat in his hands — not physically, but a sensation. The vibrations from earlier slowed and it finally calmed.

He stood, closing his eyes for a moment to better sense the flow of ambient essence. Surely, there was a difference. The rest of the crystal stones were still in the ground but taking the void bead had cut the flow of essence. The crystals merely dimmed some more so he uprooted them by manipulating the earth around them and threw them into his void space.

Something to study later. These Messengers also had horses tied up a distance away — ten of them — showing that the different companies of Messengers scattered across the jungle were definitely not isolated from one another. That didn’t bode well for him and his team if he wanted to pick them off one at a time. But one problem at a time. How they got here using just horses was another matter. These horses must have trained to push through terrains like these.

With so many of the contraptions scattered across the landscape, this place could become barren of essence in a short while. He needed to destroy them all.