The imposing mass of Emperor Dominus stirred as he stood up with a thunderous expression. Dagris stepped between him and Jiran with his hands raised placatingly, “Let’s hear him out. We don’t have the boon of time on our side, so I hope your explanation is succinct, Jiran of Feylon.”
“I’m not giving up before we try. Just like I don’t have any idea how battles at your tier are waged, you don’t know all the ways I can help.”
Mesalay cut into the conversation with an annoyed twist to her lips, “We’ve already adopted your method of claiming consumed density which has allowed us to restore our mana significantly over the last year. Due to this, our molding has also exceeded one hundred, the same as yours is rumored to have. Are you telling us there’s more you can do that’s beyond even those achievements?”
Jiran couldn’t help but throw his head back, bursting into laughter, “That’s it? That’s all you know? I… honestly thought Olive would have passed on at least some hints. She really takes her promises seriously.” Jiran smiled fondly and the praise of his daughter caused Dominus to relax the overwhelming pressure of his aura.
Jiran continued, his confidence surging as the saviors of mankind looked at him with hope-filled eyes, “We definitely don’t have enough time for me to tell you everything I can do, or how I can do it. The first step would be to ask you a question: If our tier nines and tens had infinite mana and could increase the power of their elemental attacks by a factor of six, could we win?”
Oliviala Le’Cruex
The moment Jiran vanished, Olive immediately understood what had happened. Without time to fully consider the implications, she raised her voice while dropping to the filth-covered ground, “If your mana is dry, fall back to the city with all haste. Those who can still fight, prepare to lead the horde directly toward the walls. We must keep them off the new formations for as long as possible!”
“Alor!” Shouted salutes filled the air as less than a quarter of the tier fives and sixes joined her, the rest fleeing with all their physical might.
The pawns were slow to pick themselves up from Jiran’s attack, giving Olive and her ragged soldiers a couple of minutes to prepare themselves. With a glance, she knew there weren't enough of them to hold the beasts in the constricted mountain pass for more than a few seconds, and if they tried, they would only deplete their mana and end up unable to effectively lead the Graymin away from the vulnerable formations.
“Cup formation! Attack with ten percent of your remaining mana, then fall back. Repeat until you reach the walls.” Grunts of assent were accompanied by the soldiers spreading out in a large U shape. They drew their weapons with grim acceptance as the uncountable horde rumbled to life once more.
When they came, it was slow at first but rapidly grew in momentum as the press of bodies pushed forward. They leaped off each other's shoulders in their eagerness for blood and flesh. The pounding of feet was like muted thunder on the damp filth, and their disturbing demands spoken in a guttural simile of the Imperial language sent terror washing over the soldiers. If they weren’t each a veteran, the sights and sounds would have driven them to flee in a heartbeat.
“Bring him, and live. Bring him, and live. Bring him, and live.”
“Like hell we will! Break their momentum! Fire!”
Lances of elemental mana blasted from channels to splash across the lower-tier beasts. They died by the hundreds but their losses were less than a drop in the ocean. The attacks may not have inflicted much total damage, but they were more than flashy enough to attract the attention of the pawns. Like bugs to a flame, they swarmed after the soldiers with renewed frenzy.
Each retreat was followed by another round of elemental blasts. While they did manage to attract the majority of the horde toward the formidable defenses of the city walls, far too many spread out in every direction after escaping the pass. Like oil across the surface of a still pond, they raced toward the conscripted, inexperienced soldiers who had already fed their mana to the formations. Olive bit back tears of frustration as her carefully laid plans began to fall apart before ever being enacted.
If they had come like normal instead of in this insane wave, we would have had plenty of time. If I call on the others now, we’ll lose a massive advantage we’re certainly going to need later. No, I can’t do that no matter what. Which means… Do I really have to resort to such a despicable tactic? I can’t believe I’m doing this, so embarrassing!
Olive raised her voice and shouted at the sky, “Father! Bring Jiran back right this instant or I swear, when we survive this, I won’t join you for supper for a year!” Her cheeks blazed brighter than the flames shooting from her sword.
As she dropped her gaze back to the oncoming tide, her heart froze in her chest at the sight of hundreds of alien shadows sweeping across the ground, converging on her position.
Jiran of Madra
Jiran was pulled from the synapse, appearing high in the air and far behind the city, just as he had requested. He whispered thanks to Emperor Dagris as he took in the dire situation unfolding to the north. Olive’s forces were no more than a handful of snowflakes attempting to stop an avalanche. Within minutes, the spread-out beasts would sweep away the flimsy line of soldiers and reach the trenches that she was clearly trying to protect.
His aura picked up the fluctuations in the framework behind him as his expected guests arrived in rapid succession. He didn’t bother turning around to greet them yet as he had a task that required his immediate attention. Reaching into a pouch on his belt, he pulled out a green crystal, its surfaces both smooth and sharp against his skin. A trickle of mana fed into the crystal brought up a series of messages in his interface.
[Sanctuary Tertiary System: Accessway]
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
[Primary Capacities: Unavailable]
[Secondary Capacities: Functional]
Jiran selected the secondary capacities and a new dropdown menu populated.
[Secondary Capacities: Functional]
[Current Modular Charge: 100%]
[Current Mated Charge: 100%]
[Interior Modular Transportation: Activate Y/N?]
[Exterior Mated Transportation: Activate Y/N?]
After selecting yes on the exterior mated transportation option, Jiran threw the crystal into the air before him. Mana Omnis greedily sucked away at his energy and he was all too eager to give it as he watched with bated breath. The crystal stopped itself a few meters away and sparks of green currents began to emit from its interior. They grew in size until the charges were as thick as his fingers. They shot away from the crystal in a perfect circle two meters wide and tall. More and more of the green lightning erupted until the entire circle was filled with energy thick enough that he could no longer see beyond it.
His eyes were blinded by the intensity of the light-show so he cut off his skill and observed with his aura. The framework around the lightning quivered as strands of energy connected with each synapse, bending them to the will of Sanctuary's systems. The effects stabilized and the crystal vanished, the mana Niya had painstakingly sacrificed completely devoured to create a shimmering portal. Beyond the flat, mirror-like surface, Jiran saw a cloudless sky enveloped in the last fading rays of Second Father’s glow; a complete juxtaposition to the rising dawn of First Father to his east.
Between him and the distant horizon seen through the portal, thousands of Forkara flapped their dark wings. So many of them gathered at once caused Jiran to experience an instinctive moment of fear, like seeing a sky full of locusts ready to descend and rip apart everything in their way. They stared back at him with mixed expressions of awe, many having drawn weapons that were wrapped with unleashed blades of wind.
These are my warriors? They all came here for me… because of my deal with the elders. Fucking awesome.
Jiran couldn’t wait to see what they could do and Olive was out of time. He impatiently motioned to the young tier seven at the front who took a deep breath before boldly flying through the portal.
He arrived before Jiran with a sigh of relief and then immediately smashed two fists to his chest in a salute, “This Keeon of the Storm Claw greets Senior Brother Guardian. Your unified forces await your commands.”
Momentarily overwhelmed with gratitude and excitement, Jiran stuttered, “G-good job, Keeon,” He pointed to the north and Keeon turned, inhaling sharply upon seeing the advancing horde. “They’re only tier three and four beasts, stop them before they reach the trenches. I suggest you keep everyone close to the ground, they have higher-tier rock throwers that can easily kill a tier seven.”
“Thank you for your consideration, Senior Brother Guardian,” Keeon flew back through the portal and began snapping orders that couldn’t be heard from Jiran’s end. Within seconds, the air erupted with the sounds of madly beating wings as Forkara flew through the portal one at a time and dove toward the front line.
Turning around, Jiran finally acknowledged the astonished faces of several strangers. Each of their manapools was a blazing inferno of power that far outstripped his, though fell quite a bit short of the emperors’. Their auras were massive, stretching well beyond his while overflowing with thick energy far denser than what he could command. Despite his understanding of the soul and manabody, he doubted he could contend with a single one of the fifteen men and women for more than a second.
One of the two men at the front of the small crowd spoke first, “My name is Pierro, and this is my good friend, Sagrinar. It’s my pleasure to finally meet the mysterious Jiran of Feylon. Your reputation precedes you and is clearly not merely rumors and half-truths.” His gaze flickered to the line of Forkara rapidly exiting the portal, “While I’d love nothing more than to bombard you with questions about your winged friends, we are short on time.” Jiran’s eyes sparkled as Pierro introduced himself.
These two are legendary tier tens! Sagrinar literally wrote the book on the current theory of the understanding of mana and its principles. He’s rumored to have the highest level in molding, even surpassing the emperors! Judging by the way his mana moves, he definitely knows my method of molding. I wonder how high his skill is now after getting to practice for an entire year while I was sleeping. Argg! Fucking Graymin, I just want to pick this guy's brain for an hour, no three days, just one week damnit!
I don’t know as much about Pierro, he’s a renowned warrior but he looks more like a businessman. Of everyone here, his aspect looks the most developed; it's just like the emperors with a solid connection of mana to his soul.
Based on the brightness and thickness of Pierro and Sagrinar’s mana, the rest are tier nine, and the emperors are definitely tier eleven. That means one of the two working on Olive’s new formations is a tier ten. Considering there are only three tier tens in the empire, she must be Lostrifar. Now I really want to go down there and watch her make the formations! What a golden opportunity to learn from the best.
I swear I’m going to murder every last one of those interfering bastards! How dare they come between me observing the methods of these monsters!
Jiran fought off the scowl that wanted to plaster itself across his face as he bowed, “Master Pierro, Master Sagrinar, believe me when I say the pleasure is mine. After this is over, I hope you’ll be willing to answer a few of my questions.”
Jiran recognized the thirst for knowledge in Sagrinar’s eyes. The man chuckled amicably, his voice smooth and calming, “Child, if what old Dagris said is true and you can really show us a way out of this mess, I’ll answer every question you have.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Master Sagrinar. I can’t promise we’ll all survive, but I can at least give you a fighting chance.”
“That’s quite the claim,” A tier nine woman with streaks of gray in her hair harrumphed. “How, exactly, is a tier five going to give us a fighting chance?”
A wicked smile crept across Jiran’s face as he raised his arms to either side, “I’m glad you asked. For starters, like this!”
Mana erupted from his skin, snaking upward along the synapses of the framework like a current running through a circuit board. Normally, he could only control and convert mana into an element within five meters of his body. Beyond that range, he lost the fine connective control needed to interact with elemental castigation. However, with the assistance of the synapses that carried his intent, Jiran was able to send his mana with perfect control nearly three hundred meters before his connection became fuzzy and disorienting.
The gathered legends craned their necks, Mana Sight allowing them to follow the movement of his mana as it soaked into the thick, dark clouds above them.
“How is he controlling mana so far outside his body and why is it contorting in such a mysterious pattern?!”
“There’s so much, he’s not tier five, he’s tier seven!”
“Tier seven at his age, that’s impossible!”
Jiran ignored the peanut gallery, his attention fully dedicated to the wild, chaotic density nestled within the foreboding densoon cloud. He hadn’t had a chance to experiment with this particular energy since he was a child and couldn’t wait to fully plumb the depths of its mysteries now that he had many more tools at his disposal.
Enthralling Touch flared along the branching tendrils of his mana, using them as a bridge to infiltrate the vast cloud. The first release of the Densoon Season was always the most potent and since it had yet to come, Jiran had no intention of letting such a valuable bounty be unleashed without taking some for himself. His skill greedily devoured the excess, compacted energy that writhed with abundant promise. As the cloud shrank, the impossibly vast quantities of density were absorbed and converted into pure mana that raced toward him along the synapses, only to be redirected at the last second into the gathered legends’ wide-open mouths.