After sending the remaining scout in the opposite direction of the approaching Forkara, Jiran and Lulu moved down toward the dome of ice and the waiting Matrons within. Mana Omnis let him see his mana that swam within the elemental ice. He stretched his will through the synapses of the framework, connecting to and manipulating his creation enough to form a hole in the top of the dome. Lulu shivered as they dropped through, the freezing temperatures inside the dome far beyond what she was accustomed to. Elemental Castigation converted a small portion of his mana into a warm shell that he wrapped around her. She sent him a thankful smile as her breath ceased misting the air, though her arms were still wrapped around herself as she glanced nervously toward the waiting women below.

The hole he created allowed a beam of light to illuminate the interior of the dome. The only other source was the entrance he had left for the Matrons who now huddled close together near the cage containing the prisoners. They wore severe expressions, each understanding that the fate of many lives rested on what they were about to tell him.

Knowing they were short on time, Jiran’s mana cut right to their heartwoods, sealing their skills so they would sing clearly, “What did you decide? More Forkara are on the way, so we don’t have much time.” He touched down before them, his aura smoothly spreading his weight across a wide area.

Twelve similar-looking women bowed in unison, their reactions to his invasive mana almost nonexistent. Upstretched hands formed cups that were extended toward Jiran. One he immediately recognized as the Matron of Conflict spoke first. Her song was somber, lending the darkness within the dome a weight that pressed in around them, “There was nothing to decide. Our opinions are unanimous. The hivers must die.”

“I had a feeling that would be your choice. How are you going to kill them? Several are tier five, and even the tier fours are beyond your strength—tiers are how the wider world classifies the power of an individual. Each of you is tier three and you can consider every tier to be an exact doubling of strength, speed, mana, and perception. Not only that, every tier grants new abilities, like your connection to the song, each more powerful than the one before it.”

A round of gasps released streams of misty fog into the air and the Matrons exchanged glances that spoke far more than any verse. He didn’t recognize the next matron that responded, her song was deep and heavy in a way that rumbled within Jiran’s chest, “Thank you for this gift of knowledge. We have the means to kill them, despite their power, and we will do so, to show you our conviction.”

“What about the ones coming here now, and those that will come after that, and after that? If you kill these Forkara, more will come until you are all dead or subdued once more.”

Another responded instantly, clearly expecting his question, “Thank you for your gift of care. We have no way to stop them. They will come and we will resist as best we can. Then, we will fail, and what will be, will be.”

Jiran’s hand cut through the air creating a gust of wind that tore leaves from their branches and skin, “You would consign so many of your people to death? For what?! Why make this choice when you know the outcome is hopeless?”

“Thank you for your gift of compassion!” The Matron of Belief crooned, “Your actions have bloomed understanding within us, Great Spirit Jiran. We would rather the season change without us than continue this cycle.” Jiran blinked at her repeatedly, completely stunned by the overflowing surety within her song.

She’s serious, they all are. They would rather die than be protected and fed on. Who would want that as the fate of their race? Trees aren't exactly peaceful, their roots strangle any competition for water and light. That’s exactly what the Timberlings seek—water and light. Now that they realize it’s been kept from them, they’ll do anything to break free. Good. I didn't expect it, but any other choice would end far worse for them in the future.

I wonder how Olive will react when she finds out I actually started a war.

Jiran chuckled, the sound echoing through the confining dome, “Excellent! Your people wouldn’t survive long without that kind of attitude. The Forkara protected your borders. They kept you safe even as their wealthy and powerful used you as livestock for their ascensions. That kind of behavior is a death sentence where I come from, as it should be amongst any civilized people. Madra is not such a kind mother that we can afford to turn on one another. Those who do, must not be permitted to stab us in the back in our times of weakness.”

Another of the Matrons responded and Jiran realized they had been singing in turn, from left to right, “Thank you for your gift of understa—”

“Okay, cut the shrelkshit,” Jiran interrupted with a growl, “We don’t have time. I’m going to confront the Forkara that are approaching the valley before they can spread out and cause too much damage. One of you should be there to speak on your people’s behalf. You’ve decided to kill the murderers, but we should at least attempt to resolve things peacefully with the rest of them. I know for a fact that not all of them are bad. Choose quickly, we don’t have a lot of time.”

For some reason, they looked terrified at his suggestion. The one he had cut off sang, the others nervously glancing at each other with wide eyes, “We cannot leave, each of us must be here for what is to come.”

What does that mean? Why do I have such a bad feeling about this all of a sudden?

“I will do it,” Lulu stepped forward from behind him. She stood before the leaders of her entire race with her head high. Her entire body was taut from the stress but she held her ground—pride and strength only betrayed by the leaves quivering across her shoulders and head.

The next matron in line sang quickly, “We see you, little sister who was unnamed and given new meaning. Do you understand who we were, who we are, and who we must become?”

Lulu nodded slowly, then responded while a single tear trailed down her cheek. “We were who we will always be, those who will bend and break before they fall.”

“Good, you do understand. She will represent us, Great Spirit Jiran. Thank you for… negotiating on our behalf,” A sad smile played across her features as she bowed once more.

“C’mon Lulu, let’s go. Their higher tiers might already be in the valley,” He didn’t wait for her response, launching them through the hole in the dome, but not before grabbing the ‘peace offering,’ he had prepared in advance. Once outside, gases ignited behind him, sending them rocketing toward the Forkara.

"Sorry, Lulu," Jiran doubted she heard his apology over the sound of her own screaming as powerful forces of acceleration distorted her face.

Elemental Castigation bent a sheet of light that moved ahead of them, bringing the invaders into focus. Jiran guessed there were sixty Forkara. They had haulted their advance, flapping their wings directly above the cliff wall of the crater-shaped valley. Several pointed his way before all of them turned in his direction, save one. Jiran instantly recognized the standout as Chokkra when the boy threw his head back and cackled.

What is that idiot-ugh, he probably wanted to see their faces when I showed up. He’s going to get himself killed.

As if to confirm Jiran’s suspicion, Chokkra pointed at one of the Forkara, laughing so hard he barely maintained his flight. The burly male that Chokkra was antagonizing reached for the spear on his back just as Jiran arrived above them like a blazing meteor. Identify revealed their group was led by a single tier six and ten tier fives. The rest were tier four save for fifteen or so tier threes. Each was decked in thick metal armor and none wore the helmets that made them appear as beasts. These were not children sent to prey on helpless Timberlings. They were warriors, ready for battle.

Not a single tier seven, damn. I was hoping at least one would come. This is going to be a lot harder now. Hopefully, this still works or my plans are going to unravel awful quick.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Jiran’s eyes glowed as Mana Omnis tracked the flow of the energies within their bodies. The leader craned his neck to look up at him, his eyes narrowing as they passed over Lulu and Jiran’s 'gift.' "So, this is the wingless who invaded the Storm Claws' territory?” He sneered at Chokkra before spitting in disgust, “The one you say will end us? How far did you fall to hit your head so hard? That child isn’t even a speck of dust before the might of the Claw!" The burly tier six Forkara chuckled dryly, clenching his fist before his face with a smile that didn’t at all reach his eyes.

Oh Father's, he's the evil monologuing type, isn’t he? No thanks, not in the mood, and the Matrons were being way too suspicious. If I don't get back there fast, something bad is going to happen, I can feel it. But I can’t be in a rush, this is my best chance to manipulate the clans into doing what I want.

The man opened his mouth to continue but Jiran cut him off, "Here's the only deal I'm going to offer you," Jiran threw the ‘gift,’ toward the leader. The man's aura snapped out to brush the offensive thing aside, only to smash against the incredible weight of a density-laden, tier seven corpse.

The first signs of doubt crossed his expression as he realized what Jiran casually threw was no simple insult. His aura firmed enough to hold the body which weighed three times more than he did, "What is—"

"A tier seven Rapacious Murker. I killed it this morning in the Land of the Lost."

Several of the Forkara sucked air through their teeth while their leader merely narrowed his eyes. Chokkra chose that moment to butt in, his voice rife with condescending confidence, "It's true. I took him there myself and he killed it in less than a minute, alone! Now do you see how fucked your precious clan is?!" Chokkra's insane laughter started again but Jiran's aura blocked the obnoxious sound.

Nice! That got the perfect reaction from them. No way he planned that but I’ll still have to reward him later.

"I'll be here for a few more days killing murkers to ascend. In that time, I'm willing to allow some of your people to accompany me." Every single one of the Forkara gasped at the unprecedented offer. What Jiran suggested wasn't only unheard of, it was absolutely unimaginable. Knowing exactly how much his deal was worth to the highest tiered of their race, Jiran unveiled his stipulations with a sly smile, "Anyone who has murdered a Timberling for the sake of ascension is unwelcome. In addition, if any of those murderers make an appearance in this valley, they will not leave alive. The Timberlings are now under our protection. Please, extend my invitation among the clans, all who do not violate my stipulations are welcome.”

The leader froze, his face a mask of neutrality. No matter how good he was at schooling his expressions, he couldn’t hide the truth from Jiran. Mana Omnis clearly revealed the man’s mana writhing within his chest. After several seconds, he seemed to make up his mind and pulled the Murker's corpse closer. He then tore off a piece of flesh and greedily tossed it in his mouth before inhaling sharply through his nose. After confirming it was indeed tier seven meat, he spoke, his voice no longer holding any hint of its previous disrespect, "Little brother, what of the prisoners? We were told they may still live?"

Jiran turned to Lulu, translating his question and nodding at her to answer. Having heard Jiran's earlier proclamation that he would protect them, her answer was instant. The adorable, shy girl he knew was nowhere to be seen as she bared her teeth and hissed, "Any acts of aggression against us will be met with death."

When Jiran translated, the man merely nodded as if the answer was expected, "So be it. I’ll deliver your message… right after you prove you’re not as weak as you appear. Sure, that blue fire you flew on and the speed it gave you were impressive, but I can tell your attributes are lower than mine, which makes this whole deal of yours awfully flighty. Since you’re not a Timberling, a little aggression won’t be a problem, right?” The familiar excitement of a battle-junky flashed across the man’s face before he quickly schooled his features once more.

You’re almost making this too easy for me.

Jiran responded with a cheeky grin before egging him on, “Sure, go ahead. Show me your best attack. I’ve gotta say though, so far your people have been a severe disappointment. Oh, one last question before we start. Have you ever murdered a sapient creature for the purpose of acquiring EXP? If you have, I hope you won’t blame me if I don’t hold back,” Jiran’s eyes shone more fiercely than ever as he dove into the flow of the man’s mana, tracking its every facet as it churned within his manapool.

“Can’t say that I have. I’m not some fancy scion, just a delivery boy!” He shouted the last word as his mana was sucked into the radiant light of an activating skill.

He moved so quickly that his weapon practically teleported into his hands. A dozen whips of mana shot from his torso and limbs to grab at the air. Powerful winds were created around each thread before the gusting element was sucked into a raging whirlwind that wrapped around his spear. His aura firmed beneath his feet as he crouched and jumped toward Jiran. Two blasts of wind erupted beneath his wings as they flapped with enough power to send his entire group spinning wildly through the air.

Oneness flowed through Jiran as his aura and mana united in purpose. Unlike when he fought the murkers inside their fog, he was able to bring his entire aura within his body, empowering his strength, speed, and perception to the equivalent of a tier seven. He lifted his hand to intercept the spear’s tip. The leader tried to adjust his thrust but Jiran’s palm unerringly redirected to meet the attack.

The elemental winds rampaged ahead of the weapon’s tip were like a thousand daggers ripping and tearing at Jiran’s flesh. In the fraction of a moment before impact, Elemental Castigation created a dozen layers of wind before Jiran’s extended palm. Mana Omnis tracked the Forkara’s cyclone as it broke apart into a dozen deadly blades of compressed air. Jiran perceived each one as it formed in slow motion. He shaped his own elemental wind to push against and redirect the powerful arcs of hardened air, sending them sailing to the sides. Clothes, hair, and feathers billowed chaotically as crescents of force exploded away from them. The resounding impact of metal against mana and aura-reinforced skin echoed across the valley.

Jiran’s grin turned predatory as he grabbed the spearhead before it could be withdrawn. Mana Confluence invaded the metal and tore it apart at an atomic level. Astonishment dropped the leader’s jaw when he realized his weapon had been reduced to sand that was scattered in the rampaging winds from their first clash. He lifted his terrified gaze to meet Jiran’s unwavering confidence, his earlier battlelust nowhere to be seen.

Jiran pointed at the man’s left leg, an instant later, Elemental Castigation unleashed a condensed pinprick of elemental light. A blazing flash of energy, as silent as it was deadly, severed the man’s limb, not stopping until it reached the distant cliff wall below them. Anything that ray of light touched melted and evaporated instantly, including the gases making up the air. A sucking sound reached their ears as the vacuum created by Jiran’s attack was filled with fresh atmosphere.

“Make sure to tell all the clans. Tell them I’ll be waiting for them, in the Land of the Lost,” While Jiran spoke, the man’s awareness caught up to the fact that what was left of his severed leg was spinning through the air toward the ground.

He drew in air to scream but Jiran’s boot flashed forward and smashed into his chest, expelling his breath even as he was launched like an arrow out of the valley. Jiran’s aura snapped back to its full extension, catching Lulu just as gravity was beginning to pull her down. Their exchange had happened so fast that she had barely dropped a centimeter. The watching Forkara took several long seconds before their brains processed what had happened and they scattered with terrified squawks. Only the tier fives had enough wherewithal to fly directly toward their leader.

Jiran ignored Lulu’s wide-eyed, open-mouthed stare as he caught and tossed the tier seven corpse toward the cloud of dust created by their leader impacting the ground. He turned them back toward the center of the valley, “Now that they’re dealt with, let’s have a chat about what the matrons are planning. I know they’re up to something.”

Lulu didn’t get a chance to answer before Foresight exploded a warning from his soul. Jiran instinctively understood it wasn’t a cry of imminent danger. It felt exactly like the times just before he rescued Lulu and met Lenton. A sinking sensation pulled at his gut as he turned to look back toward the distant dome of ice.

- Moments ago at the gathering of the Matrons -

The Matron of Songs shook her head sadly as she gazed at the hated hivers so perfectly trapped and helpless. Her eyes lingered on their leaders. The Great Spirit had finally revealed the secret to their immeasurable strength. But they had not lied, they did indeed have a means to kill those of a higher tier. Like every other woman in the gathering, she knew what needed to be done. She turned back to her family, determination thrumming deeply within her song, “It is the only way, my dear sisters. We must show him that our songs are not merely whispers.”

“His speed is sublime, so we must not waste time, I agree to commit the crime.”

The Matron of Raising glanced nervously through the doorway he had left for them, seeing several of her precious sect mates were too close to the dome of ice, “What of those nearby? They will surely die.”

“If we delay, then the Great Spirit will share in the cost, and all will be lost.”

The Matrons nodded solemnly at each other with tears flowing freely down their cheeks. In unison, twelve women sang, their voices combining into a haunting harmony. The sounds rebounded, forming a quaking dissonance that unleashed deadly waves of power far beyond what their bodies could endure. They fell to their knees, blood-red sap pouring from their eyes and ears. Yet they sang on, each word more painful than the last and laced with the strength of their convictions. “We leave all in his hands, as the prophecy demands!”