“WOOO, captain! This is so light!” Cheers ran throughout their march as the disorderly troops raced through the barren wilds with light hand-pulled cargo and lighter feet.
“Hahahahaha, we have our Spirit Blesser to thank for that!” Ironclad laughed as he ran in the most interesting fashion that Ebony had ever set his eyes upon. So did the rest of the motley crew.
Ebony was sitting on one of the drawn wagons, still doing forceful modifications but on boots this time. With 500 wagons full of cargo, all being drawn by superstrength soldiers he didn’t have time to finish all the runic moulding. Worst still, these people had 4 legs. 4 boots each.
To summarise his thoughts on their footwork, they were the greatest experts of sidestepping. With 4 legs each facing a cardinal direction, they moved sort of like crabs but a lot smoother than he imagined. With two feet contact, the other two on the sides would push them off with gusto in the direction they were facing and their speed wasn’t something to scoff at.
Their use of stamina was slightly better than the Cinderashians.
‘Now the only problem is the cushioning. I can reduce it for myself but not for everyone and they are using lustregrass sparingly.’ Their cheers about moving so much faster didn’t satisfy him. This was moving hundreds of times slower than if he were to traverse on his own. Still, he stuck with the motley gang. They were rather nice people all things considered.
He had to recharge every single wagon and crate every two days which wasn’t an issue for him. He still had loads to spare and he probably had excess even if every pair of boots needed upkeep.
“Lev Hound squad ahead!” The scouts warned. He finished their boot modifications first. They were redundant to him since they were scouting well within his perception for gravity.
“Keep your head down Mr Spirit Blesser, we won’t let any harm befall you!” His wagon puller dropped the handles and drew his blade before rushing out.
“Lev Hounds?” Ebony asked the personal bodyguard he received. The motley gang didn’t receive any instructions to guard him. They simply decided on their own after noticing his the effects of his ‘blessings’ and barely a day had passed since they set off.
It wasn’t that surprising, they were pulling truck-loads full of crops from potatoes to pumpkins to other heavy tubers. Flour was a large part of the cargo as well and Epic quality flour was heavy not just in nutritional or energy values but also in mass since they were dense. With the cushioning and strong gravity, transport was a massive pain.
“One of the very few wild monsters on Teheil. Their sonic howls increase the density of cushioning and push out stamina out of their targets. Their claws allow them to absorb their target’s vitality and energy. They usually stay in their burrows in hibernation. We are their favourite target thanks to all the food we’re carrying. The Golden Field equivalent are Pev Hounds, getting hit by their howls reinvigorates similar to your stamina regeneration blessing. A peaceful race that simply gets along with most creatures. Don’t worry little human, we won’t let them touch a hair on you.” His guard was rather old in appearance. He was one of the hundred-plus Kings the motley crew had to offer.
“Mmm. Next boot.” His guard cleared his throat for no reason. As an experienced people watcher, he knew the guard was embarrassed for some reason but not the reason itself.
The Raizers were far from the strongest group around but they weren’t weak to be sent on patrols around their conquered lands, support other Golden Fields and transport important supplies to their main battlefield with just three thousand of them. After all, Emperors were running around like fresh ingredients displayed on the market. It wasn’t anything like Elcra which only had 1 public true Emperor ranked individual which was the Elven Matriach.
Ebony felt that the Frost Elf’s Matriach was probably the same rank but not everyone even knew about the Frost Elves on Elcra.
As for the titled Emperor Oplot, he was just King-ranked. Strong as he may be.
Ebony learned about the common levels of cushioning and they were currently in an area where visibility was good, equivalent to level 3 cushioning or whatever. According to their scales, it went up to 20 where its pretty much pitch black and Emperors couldn’t even crawl if their mana wasn’t stolen if they ever got somewhere with level 20 cushioning.
It was dangerous.
The pack of Lev Hounds was dispatched within the hour. They looked just like grey wolves but about tiger-sized. Their numbers were under a thousand but they averaged at level 480. As the cushioning didn’t seem to affect these native creatures, the Ferroquads were slightly troubled on a one-on-one but it didn’t take them long before the hounds ran away after their numbers dropped by a couple hundred.
Chasing was a waste of energy even if they had people capable of chasing those monsters down.
Once every piece of equipment was moulded with his runes, he could just act like he was casting a mass ‘blessing’ on all of them and fill up the runes with coagulated mana from a distance. He was trying to think of what to say when he had to fake cast his blessing.
‘Those Lev Hounds, their footwork and movement don’t allow them to cut through the cushioning. Is it their fur? Are they naturally covered in the same stuff lustregrass contains? Likely. They can’t permanently make their equipment with lustregrass powder, it is consumable. An organic compound that the inhabitants and lifeforms of this planet naturally produces…I suppose I can try to study them with a portion of my mental capabilities.’ Ebony didn’t plan to stay on Teheil long but it didn’t hurt to study the cushioning and how to counter it.
There didn’t appear to be day and night cycles and the Ferroquads were on an irregular rest cycle, to throw others off. After a 40-hour march, they stopped and made camp.
Ebony decided not to try his hand at cooking the Cinderashian specialities his clones learnt for him to gift to Xin yet and ate whatever the army chefs made instead. It was a messy everything soup. Heavily seasoned hound, tubers, cabbages. He was more shocked that they shaved raw Rare iron ore as a seasoning. Good for their fur. He ate it all the same but he found out that the taste of iron wasn’t enough to bring his sense of taste back.
It had been lost again ever since he sensed Eleven pass away.
“HAHAHA at the rate we’re moving, I think we’re going to arrive two weeks ahead of time.” Ironclad smacked his back energetically. Ebony couldn’t care less about the man’s back arms clapping in apology when he noticed he used too much force and cared even less when the man was surprised that Ebony's bowl of soup didn’t even shake after the smack.
“I never marched 40 hours, fought off a pack of Lev Hounds and still feel so energetic before.”
“Neatherfae, I don’t think I can sleep yet. I wanna fight something!”
“Ohh! I’m up for a duel.”
“Haaa. men…” One of the nearby female Ferroquad troops bundled together and shook their heads at the shouting from the other fires.
‘That neatherfae word again, I heard that word so often ever since Cinderash but what does it mean…’ Unable to comprehend the common phrase, he slightly blamed his clones for never finding out a common word’s definition.
Ironclad walked around patting every small fire spot’s group members and chatted, raising morale or making himself social with all his troops. He never stopped eating and getting food from random groups either. It helped that he had 4 arms.
They were explicitly ordered not to drink. It seemed like they were an alcoholic race since their produce included a large proportion of grapes, barley, maize, hops and the like. Most of the crops that were allowed to continue growing at Epic ranked were for alcohol.
Ebony allowed the hustle and bustle to wash over him as a Grandmaster challenged a King to a duel. The squad leader merely laughed, ate with two front hands and clashed with just a single pair of swords with his two hind hands.
The Grandmaster, one of the above-average fighters was harshly berated and punished when it was found that their soup had alcohol. ‘Accidentally’ spilling a bottle of strong alcohol into their soup was met with ‘accidental’ dunking in food waste. For these fur lovers, it was a horrible stench that stuck for days.
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After a hearty laugh, the hustle and bustle quickly died down. Pots were cleaned, armour and weapons were maintained. The crew efficiently went to sleep with proper guard cycles put up.
“Not going to sleep lad?” A silver-furred Ferroquad silently stood beside Ebony.
“Sir Steelward. My kind sleep once or twice every two standard weeks.” Ebony explained to the old advisor, lower in status to Captain Ironclad but the older and stronger of the two.
“You’re not simply a Spirit Blesser, are you? I’ve met a few of those in my long life, and I’m not blind to your mana. Don’t worry, I’m not asking how your mana isn’t being syphoned away when even a Saint’s mana would be. Care for a duel, your aura is making these old bones shiver awake.”
“Mmm. I believe you should start to get busy with other fights and not a duel with me.” Ebony picked up the intruders within his senses.
Steelward raised his brows and his fur stood up in time, he quickly looked around and noticed his men sleeping…as were the guards, falling asleep while standing as was normal for their 4-legged race.
Ebony watched Steelward holler at the top of his lungs before he held a fist to his head and wobbled on his knees. The aged Ferroquad turned and fell onto the floor, grabbing Ebony’s leg before he fell unconscious.
“Huh…I did not expect this gas to be quite that potent.” Ebony muttered when Steelward didn’t even manage to stay standing for a minute. He had long noticed over a hundred shifty figures at the edge of their camp. They had been slightly over 150km away, more than enough safety distance with the cushioning helping them.
There was no natural high ground so even without cushioning, it was a safe range to stay out of sight from most races at Grandmaster unless they had archers or the associate perception skills.
Veilarans.
“Hey, I need them to get me into Central. Go away.” Ebony figured he didn’t want any of the Ferroquads to be slain after being put to sleep by an invisible gas. He was more surprised that the Ferroquads didn’t smell the gas when he could than the Verilarans’ gas potency. The volume of gas was large enough to cover the plains and the territory of three thousand sleeping soldiers.
Despite his initiative to speak, the lanky figures that charged towards the Ferroquad’s camp didn’t slow down. A few of them were surprised that he was still standing.
“Fine. Sleep for sleep.” Ebony Flickered out of camp to meet them mid-way and punched the lights out of them one by one. They were quite…slow on the uptake. For people famed for stealth, he wasn’t shown how skilled they were as they didn’t even react to him Flickering in front of their faces to knock them out. Did they even see his face before they passed out? He wasn’t sure.
‘Ah.’ Ebony quickly grabbed the back of the head he punched when he found the neck snapping so easily. Fortunately, a group of Grandmasters had strong enough vitality to survive a neck snap if it wasn’t completely disconnected. While the cushioning didn’t slow him down as much as it should, it put pressure on the targets he hit. It was sort of like he was punching the Veilaran into hard air.
With merely a hundred fifty of them, it wasn’t even a two-minute job. Ebony took longer throwing their unconscious body away from the Ferroquad camp.
Continuing to work on the boots that surrounded his original spot, he waited for the camp to wake up. From their breathing, he was certain they were doing well but he had to wait for them to get up to know if it was a poison or just a potent sleeping gas.
It was the second.
“A-AMBUSH!!” Steelward shot up first and drew all his blades half an hour later. The sleeping gas was very strong to keep him asleep for that long.
The Kings of the camp all rushed to Steelward.
Ebony placed a finished boot down and patted Steelward’s shoulder. “They ran off.”
“What?”
Surrounded, Ebony let them shout at him.
“...Men, disperse. We move off as per schedule.” Ironclad came forward to stop his soldiers that was acting up and beginning to get angry. They were all strong enough to notice that something happened before they fell, it was not surprising that they found it suspicious to wake up to no attack but a human in their midst.
With a final foot placed down hard, Ironclad scolded the complaints away with his authority.
“Those were the Doze Butchers. I didn’t know we were in their sights. Thank you, you saved my men and I.” Ironclad whispered and crossed both pairs of arms in front of him.
“I didn’t kill them. Deal with your elite soldiers' doubt, I’ll deal with threats you can’t see.” Ebony figured he should warn Ironclad that he didn’t permanently remove the problem.
The less interruption, the faster he could get to his destination. He didn’t mind clearing the path ahead for them from any obstacles.
Having gained the motivation to help push away rocks in their path, Ebony was shown the reality that this place was simply too barren and having people chase them with the cushioning that changes in strength on a wimp rarely happens.
Within the next two days, every pair of boots was moulded with his load reduction runic formula and he just had to cast his ‘blessing’ every two days. With this, he was sure he could keep them all topped up even if their numbers were 2 or 3 times greater.
Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t do anything about the cushioning for other people.
The Ferroquad crew warmed up to him rather quickly excluding the suspicious Kings who noticed the oddity. The other who were on guard duty the other night were punished for sleeping on the job but that was all that happened before Captain Ironclad squashed the event as a problem of the past.
His inexhaustible stamina overflow was making them more energetic than ever and they marched on with fervour. All things considered, they were moving at the speeds of an average sports car so it wasn’t that bad. Teheil was simply massive.
Ebony now worked on weapons. They didn’t care as much for the durability of their armour compared to their weapons. The Ferroquad’s equipment was comparatively low quality in the sense that it was normal. The internal make-up of their boots and weapons was empty, with no magic enchantment or anything similar. It made it a breeze for him to add runic pathways.
Their weapons were all Epic-quality steel while the Kings used Ancient quality ones. It was above what Ebony was familiar with so he was glad the craftsman for these weren’t that good and they were just solid pieces of equipment. He had a feeling the craftsman had the same issue of working with materials beyond their capabilities.
Ebony was a little fascinated by how tough normal iron could get when he saw such high-quality ones. Too bad the convoy didn’t carry raw ores or he would be interested to see how their properties changed with an increase in rank.
‘Ancient ranked iron. I can’t bend this axehead even if I augment myself. And this is with relatively lousy craftsmanship. With proper crafting skills, simple iron would be unbreakable to most and with magic enchantment their durability and damage potential would skyrocket at the right tiers and skill refinements.’ Ebony took note of Ironclad’s axe, the only King who trusted him with their weapon as of yet.
The handle was made of wood that he didn’t recognise but it was very likely Ancient rank.
Ebony passed the weapon back to Ironclad without messing with it, “I don’t think I can make this better without ruining it instead.”
He had the confidence of wearing down the metal to mould mana pathways but there was a far higher chance that the weapon would become less durable even after his runic activations. As for the Epic ones, he tested on a few spare weapons first. Since he wasn’t a proper specialist with enough Fortifications, it was questionable whether the damage he would do to the weapon would exceed the buffs he could provide.
Fortunately, the tests came up with good results. Though he did have a couple of failures that weakened the weapons instead, the convoy had plenty of spares. Albeit barely, the weapons became more durable and absorbed shock and impact better. It prevented their arms from numbing as easily when clashing with equally hard targets.
It took him thrice as much time to mould a weapon than a boot so he had his hands full. While they travelled, the Raizers fought people, other convoys. Killed people. Have their men killed. Cinderashians, Veilarans and Mirellans alike.
Ebony watched it happen in the centre of their convoy. Every single kill, every single death.
‘Such a waste.’
He only stepped up every time their convoy rested and he sensed people at the edges of his range. Every single time, he would head towards them, knock every single one of them out and toss their unconscious bodies to the side of the Raizer’s path.
The closer they got to Central, the denser the aggressive population.
If there was a group of a thousand, it took a thousand attacks.
If there was a group of two thousand, it took two thousand attacks.
It was just that simple when they only saw his phantom flashing about.
The only exception was a level 620 King who blocked a punch of his only to be knocked out by a forceful kick to the head. The Cinderashian warrior was like Ebony, his body could fight while it was asleep. Without any other choices, Ebony had to break all his limbs before he could put the man’s fighting instincts down and toss him to the side a few hundred kilometres away.
Cinderashian warriors were indeed the best around Teheil. Ferroquads were physically stronger thanks to being more suited for Teheil’s conditions. While the Veilarans and Mirellans were just weaker in direct combat by a noticeable margin in a one-on-one. They had the power of numbers, and far better equipment and relied on ambushes.
They came across over a dozen such skirmishes before Ironclad finally announced that they were about to enter the Central region.
“Ebony, attach your pass if you don’t want the Scythe of Death to spawn above your head.” To end off the twenty-day trip, his bodyguard, Axel Steele warned him.
“Right.” Ebony listened to Axel and took his pass, something that looked like a talisman out and pasted it on the back of his hand, watching it dissolve away.