Jiran was sick of flying. Brandon's childhood dreams of soaring through the air did not include being tossed about like a piece of paper in the wind every time someone higher tier than him sneezed.
Currently, Jiran had launched himself a hundred meters into the air. The bottoms of his feet exuded a blue flame that kept him from falling.
Shortly after the group made it out of the bandit camp, Jiran realized he had no idea which direction would take him back to the training field.
Thinking he could find his way easily from the cave, he decided to get an aerial view in hopes of finding the river or the huge tree on top of his hill.
He spotted a river and could only hope it was the right one.
I guess we’ll just backtrack if that's not it.
His landing was as smooth as his ascent had been. That is to say, he shakily flailed his hands and feet in an attempt to maintain balance and not plummet to his death.
While pointing northwest, Jiran turned to the group.
Once again, he thanked the Fathers they had not seen him puking his guts out after the red mist had entered him. Whatever essence he had absorbed from that demented bandit, he wished with all his heart he could give it back.
“River’s that way. If it’s the right one, we should make it to my camp before nightfall.”
“The right one? Camp? What is this nonsense? “I demand you take us to proper lodgings befitting our status immediately. You may also inform me as to the name of your master. My Father must know who could possibly be so foolish as to raise an impolite heathen to such a high tier.”
“Dommell, You will apologize to Master Jiran this instant!”
“Master?” All three boys said in unison.
Olive grinned like she had won the argument already, giving Jiran a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“That is the correct title for a royal instructor is it not? He may only be in the second Tier, yet his command over molding and shaping is not one iota less impressive than that of Master Toocsal’s. I’m sure father will be delighted to hire him"
"Second Tier? Olive, you must be mistaken.” Drummell blustered. “It's impossible for someone in the same tier as myself to be so powerful. I will not accept some peasant living in the far reaches of the empire rivaling my greatness."
"Oh Dommell, do you truly believe I, of all people, would not be able to tell his tier?" Olive said while holding her hand to her chest.
Jiran had long since lost interest in the childish bickering and walked away. When the three of them realized he was already walking away they quickly followed.
We don’t have any time to stand around talking, with their injuries slowing us down we should barely reach the cave by nightfall. Without the cave sheltering them from the densoon, recovering from their injuries will be far more difficult.
They had already wasted several hours waiting for him to recover enough to walk. The attack he used had nearly killed him since he didn't have enough mana to properly protect himself.
"Dommell, I think you still have some mud on your jaw after watching Jiran’s fight. Perhaps he’s not the one you should be insulting?" Quipped Cameron.
Dommell's face flushed red with embarrassment or fury. Jiran couldn't have cared less about the pompous child's tantrums.
"Instructor Jiran! Wait for us!" Olive shouted as she chased after him, leaving the bickering boys behind.
Dommell hobbled with the help of Cameron, the two desperately trying to keep up with the pace Jiran set.
Olive caught up and walked beside Jiran, glancing up at him every few seconds. After only a few minutes of blissful silence, she worked up the courage to ask a question:
"How did you do that?"
"How did I do what?"
Olive scrunched up her face as she thought about how to respond.
"Everything! How did you keep your mana inside that cage? How do you absorb Density from a storm like that? How are your shapings so powerful? How did you unlock your mana body?
“It’s just not possible to beat a Tier four at our tier. Yet you’ve defeated two, right before my eyes! I’ve read every fable in my Father’s library and not once did those heroes defeat someone two tiers above them.
"There isn't a single thing you've done since I met you that makes any sense."
“I could say the same about you. Pretending to be a boy, ordering around the son of a high-ranking duke, and now you’ve all but admitted you can somehow see mana. How about this, Olive’rrr,” Jiran said while over pronouncing the end of her fake name.
“I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours.”
The scrunched, petulant face of the adorable girl was nearly too much for Jiran. He held his laughter admirably but couldn't quite keep the smirk off his face.
“That’s not fair! I’m not allowed to talk about any of that stuff.”
“Well, if you think of something you are allowed to talk about, then maybe I’ll tell you something about myself.”
“I can tell you’re teasing me, it’s bad manners to tease, Jiran.
“Oh, I know something I can talk about. I like caro fruits. Now tell me how you didn’t lose your mana in that cage.”
“I said, maybe I’ll tell you something about myself. It just so happens that I like caro fruits too! Isn’t that amazing?” Jiran said with another smirk.
“You’re teasing me again!”
Jiran continued to enjoy the light banter with Olive as they made their way to the river. Neither of them brought up any of the recent events. They shared an unspoken truce not to sour the good mood with unprocessed traumas.
Cameron and Dommell were a sweaty exhausted mess and gladly sat in the cool water upon arriving. Cameron even laid down completely in the water, luxuriating in the feeling of weeks of grime being washed away.
Jiran kept an eye out for threats while the three took some time cleaning and relaxing. He thought about using his new web for scouting but decided against it. He was still low on mana and wanted to have enough to fight off a beast if they were unlucky enough to run into one.
Both boys refused when he offered to look at their injuries again. Jiran understood. He would have a hard time trusting too, after what they had been through.
During the walk so far he had managed to heal his burns and scalp, so at least he wasn’t in constant pain anymore. Weariness seeped into Jiran as he sat on a nearby rock, the peaceful sounds of gently flowing water a lullaby to his sleep-deprived brain.
Thoughts of spending the night without shelter drove him back to his feet. After he splashed cold water on his face, Jiran gestured to the others that it was time to go and headed downstream.
Dommell tried to start a conversation but Jiran silenced him with a stern look.
“No talking, lots of predators on this river, freshly mutated by the Densoon. Don’t let down your guard and shout if you see something.”
After his warning, the group cautiously pressed forward, four pairs of eyes constantly scanning the dense forests around them for any signs of danger.
Two hours later, Jiran heard a familiar screeching coming from a tree on the other side of the creek. The other kids froze at the sudden sound but Jiran waved happily, ecstatic that Markhiss hadn’t killed them. He returned their greeting with a friendly screech.
One monkey head after another popped out of the foliage. The screeching and banging sounds reached a crescendo as more and more monkeys joined them on the creek’s bank.
Cameron and Olive had moved to stand next to each other, their arms raised in a defensive posture. Jiran didn’t notice the worried looks of the others as he happily screeched and waved his arms in greeting to all the little beasts.
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Dommell was the first to work up the courage to talk.
“What is the meaning of this, peasant? Was this your plan all along? You lured us into an ambush to be devoured by these mangy beasts!? I’ll not fall for your plot any longer, I, Dommell Crueshaunt will break free from this trap and —”
A wet splat interrupted Dommell’s blustering. The monkeys, which had gone quiet during his monologue, began screeching once more. Dommell looked down at the wet excrement which had impacted his chest in horror.
“How, how, how dare you! I’ll have every one of you skinned and turned into lampshades you filthy, disgusting, mongrels!”
A cacophony of wet squelching impacts, mixed with the harrowed screams of a child erupted from Dommell as he tried unsuccessfully to dodge the dozens of projectiles aimed his way.
Jiran couldn’t help himself as the stress of the recent life or death battle released from his body in a bout of hysterical laughter. Cameron and Olive joined in at the expense of the now traumatized, red-faced Dommell.
After the monkeys had finished their fun and Dommell had cleaned himself in the creek, the clever beasts led the group back to Jiran’s cave.
Only a couple of days had passed, yet the nostalgic feeling of seeing his makeshift hovel brought a smile to Jiran’s face. Sitting down on his bed of leaves and drinking from his waterskin he was finally able to relax for the first time since leaving.
Dommell collapsed against the far wall, looking just as exhausted as Jiran felt. Cameron and Olive stood awkwardly in the middle of the cave skeptically gazing at Jiran’s meager possessions.
“What should we do now?” asked Olive with a thoughtful expression.
“Relax, or start a fire while we wait for supper.”
“Wait for supper?” Asked Cameron, clearly confused about the meaning behind Jiran’s words.
“Yep, wait for supper. You’ll see soon enough.” With those words, Jiran pocketed the cube and his knife before he closed his eyes and instantly fell into a light sleep.
An hour later screeching, banging, and the sounds of splintering wood woke Jiran. With bleary eyes, he stomped out of the cave. Olive and Cameron were on his heels, both looking worried and tense.
The monkeys had brought a trio of feathered raptors. The beasts were two meters tall with thick leathery skin covered sparingly with color-changing feathers. As the monsters moved from the woods into the small field surrounding Jiran’s hill, their feathers rapidly adapted to the change in scenery.
The adjustment gave them a ghostly shimmering look that made Jiran’s stomach flip. His instincts reacted viscerally to the way the colors adjusted so quickly. As if they were telling him, the hunter is near, and you are the prey.
Jiran pushed down the creepy feeling and blasted toward the three beasts, Olive’s screams chased him as he flew through the air.
“They’re Tier four, we need to escape! Jiran, run!”
Perfect opportunity to test out my new attack. Thanks for the warning Olive.
I’ve recovered half my mana, that should be more than enough.
“Don’t interfere, I won’t be able to protect you and fight.” Jiran shouted.
With a grin of excitement, Jiran increased his speed just before he reached the lead raptor, hoping to throw off its timing. As the beast’s neck muscles flexed, Jiran ducked. Its mouth, the size of Jiran’s entire torso, clamped shut with a blast of pungent air just above his head.
Jiran’s hands, which had been raised in the air, providing thrust to push him down below the beast's attack, were now positioned just below its extended neck.
Lowering the power to only five percent, he focused on three images simultaneously.
First, he expelled gas from his right hand.
Second, he used his mana body to compress the gas as hard as he could, until it formed into a thick gas in the shape of a blade. He made sure to leave holes in the compressed space for oxygen to enter where the hilt would be, and a larger hole at the tip for the flame to exit.
Third, he ignited his compressed blade of gas.
Jiran’s world turned white, then a dozen fists began beating him relentlessly. His vision swam, and the ringing in his ears drowned out every other sound. The strangest realization his dazed brain comprehended, was that the sensations of his mana body were completely lucid.
He could clearly feel the damage his body had sustained through the mana body’s perception. He could also tell exactly how far he had flown from his original position under the raptor. Jiran could count every rock and root he had impacted as he rolled across the terrain.
With a groan of pain at his numerous bruises, Jiran stood up on shaky feet. Using his mana body to balance instead of his usual senses was disorienting but manageable.
He rubbed his eyes several times and pushed healing mana into them to clear his vision. When he could finally see again, Jiran took several seconds to comprehend the scene in front of him.
He now stood ten meters from where he had first engaged the raptors. The two he had not attacked had both been blown five meters away in opposite directions. The middle raptor had misplaced its head and was draining blood in a geyser of gore every time its heart pulsed.
Before the closest of the two remaining raptors could get back to their feet, Jiran blasted to its side. He repeated the same attack as before but this time he reduced his mana output to one percent. He divided the energy evenly between creating the gas and slowing its molecules into a more stable state.
The blade of compressed hydrogen stabilized into a clear liquid. After he ignited the thin strip of liquid, it turned into a concentrated blue flame extending from his hand that gave off a sense of intense danger.
Jiran had no doubt it would burn his arm off with ease if he didn't protect the limb with at least ten percent of his mana. That ten percent would need to be concentrated perfectly along the edge of the blue blade. A very difficult task during fast-paced life or death combat.
A weapon that uses one percent of my mana per second, but takes ten per second to protect against.
Awesome!
The raptor he stood next to was digging its face into the ground, its taloned paws sought purchase in the ground as it attempted to stand up. Jiran didn’t give it the chance, he plunged his new blade into the eye that stared up at him with hate and hunger.
A sizzle of cooked flesh accompanied a howl as the beast's brain melted instantly. Several seconds after it was dead, the beast's powerful muscles still contracted as it flopped around like a fish out of water. Its nerves waited for new signals from a brain that would never again respond.
Jiran blasted his way to the last raptor. It was just getting to its feet as he passed the headless corpse of the first, which was still shooting out meter-long jets of blood into the air.
The beast was now wary of Jiran, it eyed him with the intelligence of an apex hunter. Jiran blasted it with a bolt of lightning using ten percent of his energy. The beast moved so fast it nearly escaped. Jiran’s attack barely connected with the tip of its tail after it leaped to the side.
Jiran pounced.
Summoning his blade between both hands, and with fire erupting from his feet, he plunged his weapon into the monster's scaled shoulder.
The blade of fire only penetrated halfway into the beast. As its head turned to bite Jiran, he erupted his aura, blasting himself clear of the beast’s deadly teeth.
The two eyed each other warily.
Only twenty percent mana left, I need to make this last attack count.
Just as Jiran was raising his hand to lash out with another lightning opener, the raptor changed its target, running straight for Olive and Cameron.
Jiran couldn’t help but imagine that deadly maw closing down around her body, blood and gore staining the ground as it chomped into her lifeless form.
With a roar of fury, he once more activated his aura, shooting himself after the monster that dared attack the children he was protecting.
It had all been a ploy by the clever beast. As soon as Jiran extended himself forward through the air, the raptor turned, its tail lashed out faster than Jiran’s bolts of lightning.
Jiran didn’t care, he swung his hands down at the vile creature. Ten percent of his mana was expelled in a flash of white light that blew the monster to smithereens. Its tail followed through, blasting into Jiran and sending him flying across the field.
Surrounded by a field of pressure that used almost all of his remaining aura, Jiran groaned in agony. With barely enough aura left to cover his body, Jiran observed his numerous injuries.
Most of his ribs were broken and several of his organs had ruptured. There was massive internal bleeding and most of his stomach muscles were destroyed.
Flooding his entire chest with the remainder of his mana, Jiran opened a mental bridge to the energy and allowed it to guide him to where it was most needed.
Mana knows best what the body needs.
Jiran was still lying on the ground healing himself when the red Density arrived. This would be his first time absorbing it from more than one creature at a time. With his extensive injuries, he was concerned about how the mist would affect him.
When the red mist of Density from the Tier four bandit entered him, he was shocked and disgusted that he had killed another human. At the time he was unable to focus on the changes.
Red Density, when exposed to the mana body, went through a dramatic alteration. As soon as it came into contact with the fringes of his aura, the energy flipped and inverted exactly as his mana did when he pushed it into his mana body.
The converted red Density then flowed smoothly into his muscles without triggering the euphoric emotions that had concerned Jiran so much after killing the bear. It now left his body feeling refreshed and strong like after a good workout.
Mana, which had previously been absorbed for his eventual Tiering, was pushed out of his body. It was replaced by the higher-tier Density which was converted from the red mist. The new and stronger energy slid smoothly into his muscles, bones, and tissues, reinforcing them far more than regular mana.
What would happen if only this higher-tier mana is in my body when I tier up? How many Tier four beasts would I need to kill to accomplish that? Probably around a thousand. Should I try it? Can’t think. Sleep now, plan later.
It wasn't long before Olive and Cameron arrived at Jiran’s side.
“Jiran! By the Mother you look awful! What can I do? Cameron, save him, please save him!”
Jiran swallowed the blood that threatened to escape his lips before responding in a whisper.
“I’ll be fine, calm down Olive. I’ve already healed a lot of the damage, it looks worse than it is. Can you two just carefully carry me back to my bed?”
The two kids nodded vehemently before gently scooping him up and carrying him to the cave.
Back in the cave, Cameron could only sigh in admiration as he looked down at the heavily injured Jiran. Determination like he had never known filled him. He swore to himself that someday he would be able to stand next to Jiran and fight, instead of being protected.
Every day of Cameron’s life, his family had drilled into him that he was the protector, the last line of defense. Yet here he was being saved time and again by Jiran, who was much smaller than him. A boy that, at the moment, looked like a half-butchered animal.
He would be better, He would do more, and someday he would look Jiran proudly in the eyes as an equal.
But first, he left the cave to find some wood for a fire.
He was hungry, and that meat smelled good.