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Chapter 67: Mending Light

It felt fitting to venture out of the city with a smaller group.

The baroness would typically insist on having at least two parties of soldiers following along, but this time, Rowan was able to dissuade her. Bringing up the fact that the men would be best put to work hunting down more cards was what did the trick.

As such, it was only Blake’s party, Rowan, Olivia and Marcus that made their way deeper into the wastes.

Somewhere along the line, Rowan realized that he’d lost his fear of the place.

Where once he might have felt on edge, now, the embrace of the wild, twisted jungle felt just as welcoming as the walls of Rowan’s manor. When paperwork was involved? The wastes actually won out the popularity contest.

Even then, Rowan felt that the main source of entertainment on that particular trip were Blake’s party members.

The three women looked so resigned yet determined that Rowan actually felt like giggling. It didn’t help that they dressed almost like they were planning to walk into some high class gathering instead of heading into combat too.

All of them wore dresses that were just shy of completely impractical.

“You know, I really wonder what’s going to happen to your harem if we need to run or something,” Rowan mumbled to Blake, keeping his voice faux-quiet.

Judging by the way the said harem stiffened and shot him glares, they definitely heard him.

Looking at the self-satisfied smile on Rowan’s face, Blake could do little other than sigh.

“Can you please not poke fun at them? I’d like it if you got along. At the very least, try to stay civil? I know snark comes naturally to you, but please?” He was complaining, but then again, only Rowan was in the right position to see Blake’s smile.

“Sure, sure, I can do that, just for you… for now.”

“Of course.” Blake rolled his eyes. “I can’t ask for more than that, I suppose.”

“No, you really can’t, not after the stuff you and Kayla pulled at that Christmas party!” The look in Rowan’s eyes turned decidedly malicious when he noticed that he suddenly had the undivided attention of Blake’s ladies.

Blake had gone pale and unnaturally still, something that the women also picked up on.

“Now, what’s this about a… Christmas? Party?” Jacques, the member of the trio Rowan knew least about, asked with a blinding smile and more than a little vindictiveness.

“Another day, I think,” Rowan laughed, relishing in the way his friend’s face had gone completely red.

Maybe they were heading into a demonic infested landscape riddled with monsters in order to claw back Blake’s full strength.

In that moment, though?

Rowan was relaxed and happy, surrounded by friends and a trio of acquaintances he might just be able to learn to like too. And for the Stalwart Hero? Well, that was enough to improve his day.

Their progress was swift, but they still encountered their fair share of opposition. And, every time, Blake insisted on stepping in himself to take care of whatever threat got in their way.

Frankly, Rowan was impressed.

The last time he saw his fellow hero fight, Blake was still awkward, trying to scrounge together something approaching an actual combat style.

Blake hadn’t exactly reached the peak of mortal swordsmanship while Rowan wasn’t looking. He had, however, put together an absolutely vicious style of swordsmanship that fit him oddly well, even if one wouldn’t think him capable of fighting with such savagery at first glance.

Blake’s style was all about maiming and permanently damaging his opponents if they somehow managed to survive an encounter with him.

At the same time, there was an odd, almost artificial quality to Blake’s movements that made it even harder to anticipate his strikes and face him in direct battle.

As Rowan watched the other hero take apart a bear-type monster, Rowan seriously wondered how he’d fare against his friend in one-on-one combat if they competed in pure skill.

Blake would dash forward, leave a shallow wound on the monster, and then immediately zoom back like a marionette with its string yanked. This would enrage the rare tier monster, and it would swing and claw with wild abandon.

The way Blake contorted around those strikes made Rowan wince, but his fellow hero found an opening to jerk his sword up with such force that it nearly cut fully through one of the bear’s meaty paws. All that done from a position where he should have had zero leverage to deal a blow that powerful.

From there, Blake slipped right behind the monster, spinning around the kick it tried for by collapsing forward onto all fours, and once again lashed out.

A spray of blood and the bear’s screams of pain announced its collapse onto its right side, both its front and back leg utterly savaged and incapable of supporting its weight.

After that? Well, that didn’t count as combat. It was a simple execution.

In spite of that, Blake didn’t rush in like he might have done in the past. He calmly and methodically disabled every limb that tried to reach for him, until he’d made a full circle around the monster and once more stood in front of it.

His sword fell one final time, and the bear’s cries petered out.

Rowan didn’t even resist his urge to clap, shooting his best friend a dazzling grin when he turned around to give him a look that was asking whether the congratulations were sincere or mocking.

“I can’t believe how much better you are, now!” Rowan gushed, walking forward to thump Blake on the back.

The other hero winced and stumbled forward, awkwardly shaking himself off. “Thanks. Do you need to try to break my back though? Cause I mean, ow. Be a little more gentle, please.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, entirely unamused. “Oh come on, I barely even touched you!”

Surprisingly enough, the look he received in return was very nearly scathing. “Rowan, I’m genuinely telling you to stop trying to break my back. This is, like, the third time.”

Rowan opened his mouth to tell Blake that he didn’t even engage his strength, then stopped.

His strength was no longer was it used to be. A bit of thinking and pulling up his status screen that almost half his knights had chosen that particular stat as their main source of strength, and the knight trio was coming along very nicely, already well into their early rare tier levels.

The revelation startled him, making Rowan spin towards Olivia immediately. “Wait, with the way my strength’s been growing, I never hurt you, did I?” The very prospect of that had made his face grow pale.

“Oh, sure, get all concerned about hurting your fiancée by accident. Your best friend? Who cares if you’ve been doing domestic violence to him,” Blake commented from behind.

Olivia chuckled and stepped forward, landing a quick peck on his lips. “Don’t be silly, Rowan, you’d never hurt me. You’ve always been exceedingly gentle with me. Well… almost always.”

Her smile was a taunting, wicked thing, and it made Rowan flush so hard even his neck colored red.

“I feel a story there,” Blake purred, plopping an elbow on top of Rowan’s shoulder and making the Stalwart Hero stumble. “Want to share?”

“What to explain what you and Kayla were doing that one time you told me to visit then didn’t answer the door?” Rowan quipped right back, which did the expected job of getting Blake to back right off. His expression looked pained enough to almost make Rowan regret the comment, especially when he spied the reactions of his harem trio. Almost.

“Your fiancée is off limits when it comes to jokes. I got it. Locked and loaded. Don’t need to teach me that lesson twice. I’ll behave!”

Rowan took the moment to eye his best friend, then grinned. “Good. Keep it that way. Now, shall we continue on our merry way?”

“Let’s.”

As they proceeded deeper into the jungle, the trio of women descended upon Blake like vultures ready to pick a fresh carcass apart, and Rowan contentedly fell back to walk with his own party members.

“Well, what do you think?” Rowan asked, sweeping their surroundings carefully in search of any ambushes or suddenly emerging predators.

Being out and about on their own was refreshing, but he was seriously starting to regret not bringing a scout along.

“He’s good. Not the best we’ve seen, obviously, but he’s definitely good. Gotta say, whatever he’s doing to move like that, it freaks me out.” Marcus shuddered lightly at the admission, shooting the other hero a quick glance. “It kind of reminds me of the way some demons move, really.”

“True. Still, you can’t deny that it’s effective.” Olivia chimed in with a reassuring smile sent in Rowan’s direction. “Really, you don’t need to worry about him anymore. We’ll help him find an epic, level him up the final time, and then head back home. Sure, we might need to camp out, but that’s not too bad.”

Rowan worried away at his lower lip, before he finally decided to bite the bullet. “Yeah… about that, how are we going to find an epic tier out here without any scouts?”

Olivia blinked at him in confusion, then broke into laughter so loud it drew the attention of Blake’s party before she waved them off. “I’m sorry, you just looked so adorably worried and confused, I couldn’t help it!”

“Well, it’s not my fault! Or, well, it is. I just wasn’t thinking. Do we need to turn back? I’ll be a bit awkward, but better than wondering out here for days.”

“No, Rowan, we don’t need to turn back.” Olivia said with fond exasperation, smile still upon her lips. “I can find an epic for us, no problem. Well… actually, you can probably do it too, now that I think of it.”

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“I’m not a scout, you know? That said, neither are you. How exactly do you propose we do what you’re suggesting, love?”

The little term of endearment earned him another smile, but it didn’t distract his favorite alchemist. “Epic tier monsters have an aura, just like humans do. Now, it won’t be particularly powerful, but it’s there. Here’s the question, though: what is an aura?”

Rowan didn’t need to think particularly hard on that question. “It’s mana, isn’t it? Tiering up makes a person’s mana stronger and heavier, for lack of a better term. And when an epic tier actively expels their mana, it has a significant effect on anyone in their vicinity who doesn’t have the same level of mana or incredible willpower.”

“Correct! Now, here’s a hint why most monsters have a lackluster aura. They don’t really understand how to properly use it. Their aura is mostly bound to their flesh, and it takes a lot of time, practice and effort for them to learn how to project it.”

“That’s… fascinating, but I still don’t get where you’re going with this.” Rowan admitted, furrowing his brow. “How will that help up find an epic tier monster?”

“Well, even if most of it is bound to their bodies, monsters constantly leak a certain amount of aura. And as we just ascertained, aura is mana. So, all we need to do is look for areas around us that have denser pockets of mana.”

“You can do that?” Rowan found the suggestion thoroughly impressive, and couldn’t stop that from showing in his voice if he tried.

“Of course I can, silly. I’m a class that uses a ton of mana manipulation and sensing. Now, typically, you need to commit to a class that boosts the quality of your intelligence, or maybe wisdom, in order to really master the process. However, with your nonsense class, you got the benefits of such a class through your [Knight].” She was grumbling when she mentioned that, making Rowan smile helplessly. Olivia really didn’t like how he’d chosen to accept Tamara as one of his knights. She understood. She supported it, even, when the logic was explained. She just didn’t like it.

“So, um, what do I need to do to start on the whole sensing thing, then?” he asked, trying to hurry her along past the awkward part of the conversation.

She shot him a half-hearted glare, but she acquiesced to the change in subject nonetheless. “Well, for starters, you need to learn how to disperse your mana around you without letting it slip your control. If you just let it go, then you’ll use up your mana pool in no time. You need to keep it a part of yourself.”

Over the next few hours, as they headed deeper and deeper into the wastes, Rowan struggled and failed to do what Olivia described. Rowan was fairly sure that she wasn’t giving him excessively vague explanations just for the fun of it or to get back at him.

At first, he was even having trouble just expelling mana from his body in a controlled manner. Such attempts resulted in something that resembled offensive blasts of mana rather than anything else. Apparently, his relatively high amount of mana for a physical class was getting in the way there.

Mages would typically start on such exercises when they were just starting up, and they’d need to keep them up in order to maintain precise control of their mana as their pool of it grew.

According to Olivia’s comparison, he was trying to do an exercise people usually tackled with the lightest possible training sword while wielding a large, heavy two-handed broadsword.

Graceful and refined control this did not make.

Eventually, though, just before they decided to call it a day, he did manage to softly disperse his mana into his surroundings and maintain that level of output.

The problem then became the fact that he was leaking mana like a sieve, rather than successfully ‘hanging onto it’ in any way shape or form.

“I don’t get it,” Rowan snarled in frustration, wanting so badly to hurl his mana away from himself on purpose. Unfortunately, it was doing a good job running away from him all on its own. “It just stops being a part of me the second I release it. I don’t think my class can do this stuff, love.”

Olivia was looking at him with exquisite amusement on her face when he gave that admission. “Rowan, this isn’t some advanced technique that only mages and mana wielding classes can do. It’s a basic exercise. Trust me, you can do it.”

“You say that, but I haven’t managed to do it once!”

“And do you think that’s because it’s impossible, or are you just trying to do it wrong?” his fiancée demanded, making Rowan’s rage deflate right on the spot.

“It’s because I’m doing it wrong,” he mumbled, not at all petulantly.

“Okay, here, let me try and guide you through it. Give me your hands.”

Rowan scooted forward in their hastily erected tent, until their knees were touching where they sat with their legs folded. Olivia took his hands in hers gently, and then Rowan gasped when he felt something brush across his skin. The sensation repeated itself, reminding him of a gentle breeze tickling his skin.

“Feel that? It’s my mana. When you keep your connection to your mana, you can sense it, control it, and shape it. It’s what lets mages and a lot of other direct mana users shape spells, rituals, and the like. We don’t need you to be able to do any controlling or shaping right now. You just need to sense your mana.”

“But, it vanishes immediately. Completely and utterly,” Rowan said quietly, almost like he was afraid of talking too loudly and scaring the sensation of Olivia’s mana playing over his skin.

It felt warm, soft, and just a little nippy. He liked it.

“Just focus, silly. Actually, the process of sensing your mana and keeping your connection to it needs to be mastered almost simultaneously. If you can’t sense it, you can’t hang onto it. And if you can’t hang onto it, it stops being your mana, so you can’t really feel it anymore.”

“How am I feeling your mana right now, then?” Rowan asked, still luxuriating in the sensation Olivia’s mana was giving him.

“Your mana is a part of you. It’s one of the reasons higher tiers are so much tougher than lower ones. The mana passive reinforces your body, including your skin. So, when I run my own mana over you, it’s coming in direct contact with your own reserves. If you ever drain yourself fully dry, it will become impossible to sense mana too.”

Rowan didn’t particularly like the implications of that, but if he was ever forced to such a brink, then he was probably on the verge of losing whatever fight he was in.

Instead of complaining about things he couldn’t change, he focused on getting this one thing down. Slowly, still letting Olivia keep hold of his hands, he made a tiny improvement.

From the sensation of just letting mana rush out of his, he transitioned to the feeling of mana slipping through his fingers. It felt like, the harder he fought to hold on to the mysterious substance, the harder it was to actually leverage it.

He went to bed that night feeling frustrated, but like he was making actual, noticeable progress towards earning a new and useful skill for the first time in a while.

The next day, Blake was ready and raring to go. While Rowan had eventually succumbed to very comfortable sleep and woke up feeling refreshed, he wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Blake hadn’t caught a single wink at all.

“So, I take it you’re excited to track down an epic and finally get back to the tier yourself?” Rowan asked jokingly, only to be hit by the most dazzling smile he’d seen from his friend in recent history.

“Yes! Goddess, I can’t tell you how horrible it feels to be so far behind everyone else. I mean, your entire new extended family is at the epic tier! Our parties are at the epic tier! Those mercenaries at it too! It feels like I’ve been standing in place for the longest time.”

“You realize that’s not true, right? You’ve made amazing progress. In fact, if you fought the you from a couple weeks ago, back when you were at epic, I bet you’d have a chance to win.” Rowan wasn’t even joking.

“Yes, yes, I know I’m doing better and all that,” Blake said dismissively, literally waving the argument away. “But I’m not at epic, right? And heroes need to be at epic to be useful.”

“Then what was I until a couple weeks ago, hm? An ornament to make my party look nicer?” Rowan quipped, mostly managing to keep any bitterness out of his voice.

At that, Blake’s eyes got huge. “I didn’t mean it like that! Really! I mean, I was just saying, that’s what I’m like, not —” He broke out into stuttering, before he finally noticed the smug smile on Rowan’s face. “Oh, you ass!”

He couldn’t help it, Rowan broke into laughter as he dodged away from Blake’s retaliatory swipe. “Sorry not sorry! Stop acting like the epic tier is something commonplace, though. It’s not. I’ve got a full army, and none of them are at the epic tier yet. Besides, you’ll probably get there today.”

That alone was enough to restore Blake’s smile, and the man went right back to being annoyingly chipper. Rowan, meanwhile, fell back to his place by Olivia’s side.

“Ready to continue practicing?” Olivia asked.

“I am. Still, do you mind helping Blake find his epic? I’ll obviously keep working away at it, but I want to quickly help him get back to that stupid tier. I think it’ll do wonders for his sense of self-worth. Not that he should need it.”

“You know… Blake and his party are really not what I expected them to be,” Olivia admitted with a thoughtful look on her face.

“What were you expecting, then?”

She didn’t answer that question, but she did shout out to Blake. “Blake? If you want to find an epic, I’d head that way.” Rowan’s favorite alchemist pointed, and off they were.

Rowan wasn’t one hundred percent sure. However, as they drew ever close to whatever monster Olivia was tracking, he did think he was starting to get flashes of insight into the mana around him.

The entire wastes were tinged by mana. Something slithering, slimy and malignant, hiding within every plant, every bush, and even the soil itself. It made him want to recoil, but it did do much to solidify his sense of his own mana in his mind.

That’s why, a mere hour and a bit after they set off, Rowan finally managed to hold on to his mana. And he really wanted to punch something at just how foolish it was to attempt such a thing in the literal sense.

Instead, he found that the trick was to sort of expand his sense of self, extending it past his own skin and becoming something vaguely defined to his own senses.

That, of course, made him realize he’d done such things before, even if instinctively and with no idea what was happening. Several times before, he’d gotten impressions of demons and particularly powerful foes using mana.

Now, he knew exactly how to force those impressions whenever he liked. Sort of.

Regardless, as they finally drew close to the epic’s stomping ground, he was more than satisfied enough with his progress to shelve further experimentation.

And he was definitely certain they were drawing close.

The ground and trees were pockmarked by scratches and craters, and the jungle looked worn out and worse for wear even when compared to its usual stark beauty.

“It’s a big one, whatever it is,” Marcus supplied, putting his hand against one of the scratch marks. It dwarfed the size of his hand, making it apparent that they weren’t about to fight a teddy bear.

“Well, I mean, how bad could it be?” Rowan quipped, feeling more than a little certain of their victory.

Even with just the three members of his party, he was willing to give taking down the epic a shot. After all, they’d scythed through the epics that had besieged Blake, easily taking them down.

In spite of his own casualness, Rowan felt Marcus’s aura slip over him, preparing them to face anything that the epic might throw at them.

“Rowan’s right! This is going to be easy with all of us here, you’ll see,” Blake supported his friend with a smile, sword already in hand and a smile on his lips.

The princess, for once, didn’t share his enthusiasm. “I don’t know. I think we should still — urgh!”

The woman was cut off when one of the trees they were just passing by moved, bringing two massive claws down on top of the princess and the de Vort. The attack was as vicious as it was sudden, and the massive shockwave it released threw enough dirt in the air to stagger everyone.

Rowan cursed but kept his footing thanks to his high dexterity. The rest weren’t so lucky. Only Marcus and Blake managed to remain standing too, and all three of them rushed at the monster at the same time.

It was only when Rowan was practically on top of it that he could finally see what was attacking them. A massive, monstrous chameleon with claws that ended in wickedly sharp, long point and a tail that was cutting through the air to the accompaniment of whip cracks.

Rowan roared, mana and vitality spiraling around his spear as he readied a strike. Right before he committed, a flash of newfound strength filled him as Mirabella Treagon staggered to her knees, erupting into light that bolstered her allies.

Blake was closer to the creature, so when their attacks landed, they landed at nearly the same time. Blake’s cut into the wrinkly scales, and failed to penetrate past a couple of inches.

Rowan’s dug deep into the base of one of the creature’s legs, and the following explosion tore out the limb entirely.

In spite of that, the monster was still able to lash out, its tail hitting the Stalwart Hero right in the middle of his chest and launching him into and through the nearby trees before it brought down its front paws again, this time leveraging both to turn Blake into a pancake.

Blake cried out in pain, but when the monster pulled back, he wasn’t a mere smear in the ground. Instead, Marcus’s face paled further, even as he finally drew close enough to lash out with his mace.

The weapon landed lightly, almost like it was wielded by someone with barely enough strength to lift it. Then the chameleon monster rocked back, bones squealing and snapping as it partially slumped against the tree it still clung to.

With a sputter and curse, the princess dug herself out of what was a nearly two feet deep hole, a corona of light forming up above her as it washed over her allies, melting away fatigue. Jacques took action took, panes of force forming up around each of the humans that would stop the blows of monsters while letting their own through.

In spite of that, there was little need for them to act. The monster was whimpering, struggling to even lift its limbs again. A fact that Blake was more than willing to take advantage of.

With a vicious shout of his own, the hero launched himself into the air, bringing his sword as high as it would go before driving it down into the monster’s skull.

For a moment, Rowan feared it would still not be enough. Then, the monster’s skull sagged, its shattered state failing to let it withstand the damage, and the killing blow was dealt.

Even then, for several long, tense moments, the chameleon squirmed on top of Blake’s sword like a particularly large worm caught on the tip of a fishing hook.

And then it stilled, and the clearing was washed away in a surge of light that erupted out of Blake.