Most of the ships captured from the Numerological Compact were sent back to the core territory of the Lower Realms Alliance instead of staying with their forward base in a nearby system. Although the fleet with Devon had great success capturing ships, overall they had managed to capture around half of the ships involved in their battles, despite their best efforts. That was counting only the victories, of course, because they were unable to retrieve anything at all in their few losses.

With additional ships, their ability to dissect their various features improved significantly. Any formations involved had to be tested very carefully. A detonation of part or all of the ship was not something they could afford to risk with any cultivators aboard, which made powering the ships quite difficult.

There was clear value in being able to combine the power of hundreds of lower ranking cultivators, but the setup of the ships was problematic. They needed to understand them well enough to decouple the self destructive abilities from the rest of the control. Even if there was some value to be had in destroying ships so that enemies couldn’t reverse engineer them, they had already considered the option for their own ships and found the unnecessary loss of allied lives to be too great.

Various uses were proposed for the ships, all sensible in some way. However, not every request could be granted due to restrictions on time and of course potential damage to the vessels. There was also one proposal that was neither sensible nor came with just the threat of potential damage. This proposal was from Ty Quigley.

“Let me try to cut one.”

That was the whole request, made informally as he simply showed up where they were kept instead of filing any paperwork or at least speaking to the right people. Instead, he had just shown up at the orbital platform where they were currently contained.

Naid Conaire of the Worthy Shore Society was one of those who were overseeing the operations. “I don’t believe your ability to cut them is in question,” Naid answered. “Without their barriers they are at best slightly durable material.”

“Obviously,” Ty Quigley replied, approaching closer. His reputation allowed him some leeway to randomly show up in secure areas, as only powerful cultivators could. Even if he wasn’t traditionally placed among the greatest cultivators, in person his presence was quite convincing. “I need you to set up something where that works.”

“And then what? It is likely you will successfully slice through the barrier as well. We can easily create a barrier of a similar magnitude for your training,” Naid Conaire pointed out. “You don’t need to come here.”

“Nah, this isn’t for training,” he replied. “I’m here to help. People are having trouble with a guy hooked up to a thing, and then other guys dying, right? So I’m going to cut that.”

Naid pressed his fingers to his forehead. “Let me see if I can interpret that. You intend to cut apart the formation in such a way that it cannot trigger the detonation of the enslaved occupants?”

“Yeah. We want them to live, right?”

“We do,” Naid agreed. “But I’m afraid that it’s impossible. You would need to perfectly bisect at least a hundred different points, simultaneously.”

“Okay,” Ty nodded. “Which ones?”

“Let me see if I can be more clear,” Naid said. “You have to cut each rune precisely, with no more than a tenth of a millimeter deviation from a set path. And this all has to happen within a single one hundredth of a second from start to finish. Even if you could cut quickly enough, the angles involved require contradictory motions.”

“So what am I cutting?” Ty asked.

Naid sighed. Clearly, this was going to take a while to explain. Fortunately, they had built out a three dimensional map of the formation markings in the smaller ships, and they were extremely consistent. Not that anyone would have expected otherwise, as formations required precision and custom making an entire fleet would be far too costly.

“Let me show you,” Naid said, bringing up some images and having the computer mark the runes he pointed out. “As you can see, the command area is more than twenty meters across. I’m sure that alone isn’t a limitation for a swordmaster of your caliber, but it’s still another confounding factor.”

“... So all of those?” Ty Quigley asked.

“That’s right,” Naid nodded as he looked at the image bloated with seemingly randomly placed marks- though they were anything but random.

“Seems tough,” Ty Quigley admitted. “What if I just completely cut out the central deck?”

“No good, I’m afraid,” Naid shook his head. “The formations would still have a sympathetic connection to more of the ship. At least long enough for the reactive systems to come into play.”

Ty scratched his head as he looked at the projection. “What a pain. Would it be a problem if I cut some more things too?”

“It certainly could be,” Naid said. “Though mostly it would alter the timing of the autonomous reactions and perhaps trigger the process earlier.”

“Okay, so… there’s nothing I absolutely have to avoid?”

“I suppose not,” Naid admitted. “Since canceling the transmission of energy will happen if you properly destroy all of the runes. But if you mess up even a small amount…”

“Alright, I can do it,” he declared.

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Naid pursed his lips. “This is more than just your life at stake, you know. There will be hundreds of individuals who have no say in their participation.”

“Right. So I have to be able to do it right every time,” Ty Quigley nodded.

“Exactly, and we can’t afford to let you practice-”

“So I’ll do it right the first time to prove I can,” he said.

“Is that so?” Naid said with resignation.

“Absolutely. Assuming you marked these right. You make sure of that and I’ll get right on it.”

Naid paused for a moment. “I am quite certain, but I will have others confirm my analysis.” He waved away the three dimensional projection. “However, to properly simulate the ship’s functionality we will need time. We’ve got something that works to some extent but requires slight changes to the formations to accept static power sources.”

“Like crystals and junk?” Ty Quigley asked.

“Indeed. We will need more time to provide a proper test.”

“Alright. Tell me when it’s ready, so I can go start cutting apart ships,” Ty waved and walked away.

Naid Conaire didn’t remember agreeing to do it… but he had to admit it could be worth the effort. Every individual who could reliably disable the enemy ships saved lives- both their own people and entrapped innocents. One ship and some time invested in something they were already working towards should be a reasonable bet.

-----

Rather than risk another great shock of overpopulation, the forward operations were being managed at a slower pace. There were no immediate missions following their early successes, at least not involving direct conflict. It wasn’t just the population problems. Ships had to be repaired and cultivators needed to rest and heal. Plans had to be drawn up to make use of new intel.

In short, Devon had time… and so he immediately began fulfilling his promise to Fen. There were others as well, but Fen had been the one that spoke to Devon and started him on the path of discipling.

Out of tens of thousands, several hundred seemed like a very small amount. However, it wasn’t that people weren’t enthusiastic about the potential to be trained by an Enrichment cultivator. Even if they didn’t fully understand it, Devon’s power was evident to everyone who had passed through the base. Nor was Devon particularly hard on his students. There was just one thing he couldn’t compromise on, as it was the core of his style.

That was where most people fell through. The style required that its practitioners have their thoughts dwell on their captivity, to ponder their restraints. Most people weren’t ready for that, preferring instead to try to make different use of their unexpected freedom. Many would be giving up a life of combat, though many others would likely join the Lower Realms Alliance to free more of their people. Focusing on a specific trauma was not for most people, and they either knew that immediately or found out within several sessions of cultivation.

But there were a few with the right sort of temperament, who retained the will to fight and had the right sort of drive behind them. Affinity played a factor as well, because while Devon did not reject anyone for lack of talent, those who felt like they weren’t making progress naturally fell away, choosing to take transport to the core systems when it became available.

As for the rest, a week of progress didn’t reveal anything stunning. It was a time of adjustment, where those with entrenched cultivation methods were forced to rebuild themselves, while those earlier in cultivation still found it difficult to get started. Fen had a particular problem that Devon had observed to be holding back the majority of his sudden disciples.

He watched as Fen channeled his natural energy, forming chains around himself which then extended outward. It was a very simple movement, designed to train his image… but Fen didn’t last long before the chains lost substance, dissipating into unfocused energy.

Since his disciples were new, Devon was focusing on taking an active role. He could wait for them to come to him with their concerns, but as they were all unfamiliar with him nobody was comfortable with that yet. So he was the one to initiate most interactions.

“I’ve noticed you have difficulty maintaining your chains for long,” Devon said.

“I’m trying,” Fen replied. “But… it’s difficult.”

Devon nodded. “What about it?”

“It somehow feels like… they don’t want to exist? Like the technique simply isn’t meant to be.” Fen shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense. You clearly use it.”

“I see. When you think of your chains, how would you describe them?”

“Uh… cold? Heavy?” Fen frowned. “Sharp and powerful.”

Devon smiled slightly. He had seen it, but it was good for Fen to bring it up. “What about chains are sharp?”

“Well, uh,” Fen tilted his head. “It’s just… yours are.”

“That’s true,” Devon agreed. “My chains.” Devon held his arm out, letting chains dangle from his fingers. “I know the feeling of these chains inside and out.”

“Should I… wear those chains?”

Devon retracted his energy. “Of course not. Instead, you need to picture what you already know well. Your own restraints, not mine. They’re not even really chains at all, are they? I’m sure you don’t need to go look.”

“No,” Fen nodded. “I remember them,” he said with renewed determination. “I’ll do it this time, I’m sure.”

Devon watched, and Fen properly produced something more real. Rather than chains, the restraints of the Numerological Compact were solid attachments to the walls, with no thought given to the strain that was placed on a cultivator’s body. They had adjustments only because of the significant variance within human body sizes. The cultivators bodies were unimportant, instead only their natural energy and thus their meridians and dantian mattered. Simply having arms and legs held unnaturally, even occasionally to the point of breaking bones, didn’t matter to them.

Fen stood against the wall, his body spread uncomfortably as thick hunks of metal clamped together. First around his neck, then two for each of his arms and legs. But there was more, as a wider shell extended around his midsection, parts extending inward nearly stabbing into his guts. That would be the part that drew upon and manipulated his energy.

Even though Fen and the others had been left in a blurred mental state, half conscious, they clearly all remembered enough. With nothing else for their minds to focus on for the duration of their capture, how could they forget?

Fen shuddered and his restraints fell apart. Rather than his image being too weak, it was the realness that had been his limitation. It was difficult to mentally keep such focus when the mind wanted to be directed anywhere else. Fen had also burned through his natural energy quickly, which told Devon there was hope. He just had to learn to harness that power away from himself, and use it on those who deserved it.