Jonathan closed the book, not wanting this to deter him. There were a few more paragraphs, but most of the people mentioned in them were already dead. Out of everyone in the Ash Heaps, only Granath was immortal. Even a peak Tier 2 could only live for a few hundred years at most, depending on their stat distribution.
In the time since the book had been written, the leaders of the army had probably changed many times, unless some of them had found some sort of way to prolong their lives. Granath obviously had some sort of secret to his immortality. Perhaps he had shared it with a select few of his lieutenants, or perhaps it was simply because he was a circle lord.
The most important thing to remember about the Ash Heaps was that they were ancient. They had been here as long as the Hells had been in existence, and the only thing that distracted from that was the relative weakness of the people there. This world had been here as long as the universe had been in existence.
For the briefest of moments, Jonathan felt sorry for Granath. To live out eternity, stuck at one level of power forever was a sorry fate indeed. In this world, the only thing that would keep a person sane was the promise of future power. In the Hells however, that was not available. Then again, that was likely part of the nature of them. It was a place of punishment after all. Tiny morsels of power were offered, only to be ripped away within a few paltry years. In fact, that made it even worse than it would have been otherwise. Better to never have something than to have it and lose it.
Jonathan shook his head, clearing away the unnecessary thoughts. His high intelligence often created lines of inquiry within his mind, that, while relevant, only would be so if he had years to ponder them. He was shooting through the ranks rapidly, not because he was something special, but simply because he was in proximity to enough high level monsters. Anyone could have done this, in the ideal circumstances. His unique powers were just the icing on the top. Anyone who had been thrust into such a situation would either grow quickly, or die.
Jonathan trained for the rest of the day, alternating between his different pathway skills. Runecrafting was at a point of stagnation, as he lacked the insights necessary to create another array, or to find another rune. Truesight was as well, because looking at the same runes over and over again gave diminishing returns over time. However, his staples, Mana Manipulation and Martial Arts, were always available. In fact, he could practice them both at the same time.
As he weaved around the cave, kicking and punching at a horde of unseen opponents, he sent tendrils of mana exploring the world around him, trying to manipulate them at the same time as his attacks. It was a lot harder than he would have thought, as he had to separate his consciousness into two different planes. Normally, multitasking with his high intelligence would have been a breeze, but when one of those tasks resided in the spiritual realm, while the other was in the physical, it was a lot harder. Still, he made some progress, enough to take him up a mastery rank in Mana Manipulation. Martial Arts was still lagging a bit behind, as it had been the easier of the two skills to use.
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In any case, he had been training for over a dozen hours straight, and it was time for a break. He heard a commotion outside, prompting him to leave. He made his way out of the cave, only to find the city on high alert. Guards raced around, and people peered out of their windows, fearful of what was to come. Jonathan quickly saw what had caused this. Outside of the walls, a group of powerful monsters waited. They had made it this long without being attacked by such creatures, but their luck had run out.
A Pseudo Drake was flanked by a trio of Ashwalker Golems, the strange alliance only possible because of the promise of the essence of the city dwellers. They were seemingly waiting for something, and eventually, the Drake acted.
Energy that had been coalescing in its mouth reached a crescendo, and a beam of molten energy erupted outwards, streaking towards the city. Mages on the walls started to layer shields and elemental abilities on top of one another, attempting to shield against the blow.
Jonathan watched as he scrambled down the mountain. The city was in danger, and he was one of its strongest inhabitants. The beam hit home a few moments later, and the ground trembled. The shields held for a moment, but then started to crack one by one. Eventually, the beam made it through, but was extremely weakened. It crashed into the city center, taking out a few houses in the process. Jonathan gritted his teeth in rage and picked up the pace.
A figure, wreathed in reddish light, sprang up from the ground outside the city, clutching a large ax. A moment later, another similar figure, this one with a sword, jumped as well. The two Uthraki were making their presence known.
Hushar reached the apex of his flight and then came down on the Drake’s head, slamming his ax down like a thunderbolt. Energy crackled around the blade, and the Drake was flattened into the ground, unready for the strength of Hushar. The man was uninhibited by the low mana density of this world, and as a result, he was using every one of his 170 odd levels to fight. In many ways, he was stronger than the monsters were.
Meanwhile, Tukar took the fight to the golems, breaking off great chunks of their bodies with his attacks. It was a more gradual fight on his part, given the larger number of enemies, but he was still showing his worth.
Jonathan sighed as he saw the damage that the monsters were already doing to the city and its environs. If this continued for much longer, it would drastically weaken their preparations for the oncoming siege. FIlled with a sudden rage at these mindless beasts for attacking his city, Jonathan let out a roar of anger, flying across the city streets. He left blackened footmarks from the sheer speed of his passing.
Edgar flew overhead on wings of wind, air swirling around him in a shadow of what was to come. Jonathan smiled at the sight of him, glad to see another powerful combatant join in on the defense. Behind him, Eva ran, using her spear to cover distance in a very unique manner. She planted the blunt end of her weapon in the ground, and used it like a spring, flipping through the air dozens of feet at a time.
By this time, Jonathan was nearing the wall, and he started to channel energy into his fists. Stamina rushed to his legs, and he propelled himself over the stone wall of the city, the air whooshing around him at hurricane speeds. He traveled forwards over a hundred feet, landing just behind Hushar’s barricade.