Buried both underneath and inside the world of the physical senses lies a sublayer of reality called the framework. As far as Jiran knew, its web-like synapses played the role of supporting and enhancing the flow of mana and intent from Madra's sentient races, while simultaneously holding the planet together in some mysterious way. Since arriving in the deserts around Morothin, he had felt the incredibly powerful auras of the nearby rankers and emperors nestled within that layer of reality, clinging to the framework like spies inside the shadows. Typically, they remained passive, not impeding each other, nor him.
As the general before him demanded Jiran and the Unbroken halt, one of those two dozen auras suddenly came to life in a terrifying display of power. It swept aside the general and soldiers like a giant sweeping its arm across the surface of the ocean. Men and women flew through the air, leaving more than enough space for the thirty thousand Timberlings to progress toward the front line. From the mana’s colors that dominated the aura, Jiran knew immediately that Lostrifar was responsible for the timely intervention. He dipped his head, offering her a whispered thanks that he was sure she heard.
It looks like my bait of offering one-on-one training was successful. That, or she’s curious about what the Timberlings can do. Better give her a good show then!
Vironia and her guards followed them most of the way, dropping to the ground a few hundred meters from the actual combat. He put them from his minds, focusing on what he came for as the Unbroken spread out to their designated positions.
The Forkara warriors were in a loose formation consisting of three horizontal rows where each individual had a good two meters of room to attack and evade. They jabbed their spears and swung their curved swords several times per second. Mana Omnis watched their energies flow from manapools to a series of specialized channels in their wings. Wind, generated by the constant micro-movements of their feathers, was pulled into their mana, guiding the conversion to elemental energy that was redirected through separate channels to their arms. There, the empowered element exited before swirling in a cyclone all the way down to the tips of their fingers and over their weapons.
With each Bladewind, that energy was expelled in a straightforward, crescent-shaped slice that easily cut through the weaker Graymin while dealing debilitating damage to the hidden tier fives.
After a few minutes of frenetic combat, the lead Forkara would swap out with the second rank that crowded behind them. They didn’t use shields of any kind, relying on avoiding attacks completely or their leather chest armor as a last-ditch defense. If they were fighting in the air and able to maneuver freely, they would have received far fewer injuries. Due to being grounded for fear of the rooks who had yet to make an appearance, and in such wing-restricted ranks, even avoided attacks would often hit those behind them.
The battlefield itself was also working against them. The tier three and four pawns were easily annihilated with a simple Bladewind but the tier five knights were sturdier. Over time, their tough corpses had stacked higher and now the monsters were practically running downhill toward the front line. This meant each swing could only target one, or at most two pawns at a time. Despite several hundred thousand Forkara fighting between both fronts, Jiran estimated they would be exhausted in far less than Dokkuun’s anticipated twenty-four hours.
I need to reduce the rate they’re accumulating fatigue while also increasing their efficiency. Even if I supply them with infinite mana, that won’t help at all with their mental strain. The fighting is only going to get more fierce as higher tiers show up, so I don’t have a lot of time either.
Jiran shuddered as he imagined each of the hundreds of thousands of pawns surging toward his position being replaced by tier five knights. If things stayed as they were, that would be an absolute slaughter. He glanced at the tier seven elders flapping idly beside him. All four of them wore confident, pleased expressions as their warriors cut down the pawns with relative ease.
“You don’t seem concerned. They’re becoming exhausted and depleting their mana at a rapid pace. This can’t go on. I’d like to hear what each of you think about the situation.”
Rhahakk puffed his chest with pride, “What is there to fear from these low-tier beasts? This is a glorious stone to sharpen their young talons! Such an opportunity should be relished. Our warriors will not flee, they will fight to the last and those that survive will ascend. As it should be.” The other three nodded in agreement.
Jiran fought his urge to sigh, “Cultural differences are no joke, I suppose.” His voice firmed, laced with iron as he turned his back on the battle to face them fully, “These are my warriors now. I won’t be watching scores of them die in the hopes a few ascend. Order them to withdraw and lead them south around the outside of the city to the northeastern front.”
Jiran lifted himself into the air and Keeon called out to him nervously, “Have we disappointed you, Senior Brother Guardian?”
Am I disappointed? No, not in the least. They're amazing and their mentality is strong. I don't sense any fear from them. They're almost too good. But I can't have them dying uselessly. I've taken responsibility for them, so I won't let things continue this way.
“No,” Jiran paused and shook his head slowly, “You’re merely being true to who you’ve been in the past. But I don’t need who you were. I need a spear that can strike swiftly and with enough power to eradicate my enemies without exhausting itself. Now that I’ve seen what you’re capable of, I’ll sharpen you myself before stabbing you into the heart of the Graymin.”
The four leaders shared looks that spoke volumes; their expressions, and the mana churning inside them a mix of nervousness and heedy expectation, “W-we shall order the withdrawal.”
Jiran hovered in the air while they shouted orders, and within minutes, the Forkara were pulling back one steady hop at a time. The Graymin were far from idle, rushing headlong to their deaths to fill the empty space. The Imperial soldiers were dug in not far away, manning their hastily constructed stone wall just behind a dome-shaped reflective ward. Both spanned the entire gap from the end of the new wardwall to the nearest mountain.
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Mana Omnis revealed that the obfuscating dome had no defensive properties, it merely created a reflective surface that would make it nearly impossible for a charging beast to see the spear on the other side that was about to impale it. The formation powering the ward originated from a cluster of stones covered in talismans in the center of the dome behind the stone wall. Three dozen tier sixes sent a constant stream of mana through their Channels and into the slips of paper.
I've never taken a close look at talismans before. I’ll have to make time for that later. I need to stabilize the Forkara before more of them die.
Upon retreating to the reflective dome, the Forkara used its camouflage to buy them time to take to the skies. Before the last ranks of Forkara took flight, the Unbroken finished arranging themselves into long perpendicular lines stretching far behind the stone wall with only the single lead Timberling of each line standing atop the wall. The lines were separated by nearly fifteen meters all the way down the ranks of the Imperial soldiers. The soldiers gave the Unbroken a wide berth, scowling and cursing at the strange tree-people.
“Look at how slow they are? What are a bunch of tier three freaks going to accomplish?”
“Why are we spreading out to make room for them? This is going to collapse our defenses!”
“Shut up! Follow your orders, fool. Do you really want to bring down the wrath of the Ghoul Princess?!”
Ghoul Princess? Who’s that? Vironia? She’s not my type but she’s far from a Ghoul.
The Forkara elders joined Jiran to observe the Unbroken, save for Keeon who was leading their forces around the city. As the last few Forkara took to the skies, and the beasts rushed headlong into the dome, the lead Unbroken atop the wall were ready. As one, they stabbed their mana-charged spears at the open air. The mana inside the spears’ formations were converted to elemental energy using Jiran’s own understanding, and was therefore far more powerful than anything a tier three should be capable of.
Burgeoning rays of ice blossomed from each spearhead until five-meter-thick walls of intense cold raced forward to plow into the Graymin ranks. Chilling temperatures descended on the battlefield, enveloping each soldier in fog so cold it burned the skin. Every beast caught in the crackling blasts of frost were instantly killed, and silence wrapped a frigid fist around the survivors, both friend and foe alike.
After the crisp fog cleared, massive conduits of ice remained like huge pillars that had fallen into the horde. Their mass created lanes that the beasts were forced to run down and any who tried to climb the unnatural structures were frozen solid in a matter of seconds.
The shellshocked Imperials stood utterly still, unable to so much as whimper at the terrifying spectacle unleashed from within their midst. The Unbroken, completely unfazed, stepped back to give the Imperials room to reorganize their ranks. The first Sergeant to shout an order caused the rest to break out of their petrified states and they scrambled to take advantage of the new terrain.
With less than a third of the space to advance, and their bodies half-frozen from the nearby walls exuding intense cold, the Graymin became a pittance in comparison to what the Forkara had been facing.
How’s that, Lostrifar? Hopefully, I caught her attention. I have so many questions about formations that I’m dying to ask.
Jiran waited for ten minutes to both watch the Unbroken and speed of decay of the walls of ice. He was happy to see the Imperials showing significantly more respect, or perhaps fear, to the Unbroken. Either was fine with him so long as they didn’t harass his people. The same Timberlings charged their spears as the walls finished melting, recreating the frozen obstacles all over again. They would be out of mana after one more attack. At that point, they were supposed to fall back to the end of their respective lines. With each line holding several hundred Unbroken, it would be a very long time before they were completely out of mana. He would refill them long before then.
Rhahakk was the first elder to recover from his shock, “Senior Brother Guardian, are you really going to make us a million weapons like that? Am I dreaming? Please tell me I’m not dreaming!”
Frakkoa’s voice was shaky as he responded, “You’re not dreaming, brother. These little ones who used to be no more than cattle have shown us the true benefits of following Senior Brother Guardian. Eldest Unspeakable was right. We’re going to soar beyond our wildest imaginings.”
Jiran bit back a smile as each of their affinities rose by a level, “I’m going on ahead to set up some smithing formations, I’ll see you there.”
With wings that quivered in excitement, they bowed to Jiran as he left. He made his way to Vironia and her guards who were in a heated discussion about the Timberlings’ weapons. He lifted and then cloaked them in a bubble of light-warping Elemental Castigation before flying directly over the horde to the east.
image [https://i.imgur.com/eVST5iK.jpg]
Vironia didn’t even blink at the layer of darkness separating them from the outside world. She stared right at him, speaking rapidly, “Those spears contained a formation, right? But the power they displayed doesn’t make any sense! If that much mana was crammed into something so small, it would be destroyed after a single use. Jiran, do you know how they created them? No, there’s no way for people who don’t even wear clothes to make something like that. Where did they… Oh! Maybe they found a weapons cache from an ancient civilization! I’ve got to get my hands on one of those spears. But they don’t speak Imperial. Can you… help me acquire one?”
She pressed her arms together in front of her chest, accentuating her figure while gazing up at him through dark lashes.
Jiran stared at her with a slack face that mirrored his toneless voice, “No.”
Vironia balled her fists and pouted, “What?! Why not? Why are you so stingy? You’re not even a little bit nice to me!”
“If you want me to be nice, try being sincere first. Everything you say, and even your personality, are all a facade to manipulate the people around you. Honestly, it's disgusting and if not for your Mother, I wouldn’t have anything to do with you.”
Her jaw fell open for a second before her face twisted into a smirk, “You saw through me from the very start, huh? Well, I suppose that’s fun in its own way.”
Her expression morphed, this time turning flat and completely devoid of the slightest hint of emotion; save for her eyes, which sizzled with a fierce intelligence that set off alarm bells within Jiran’s instincts.
Her voice was uncaring to the point of being robotic, “Fine, I’ll drop all my masks. This is the real me. Did you know that they call me the Lonely Flower? Because, well, who’d want to be friends with someone like me? In exchange for showing you my sincerity, why don’t you tell me how you plan to survive this battle. Because from what I’ve seen, you’re definitely going to die.”