Perhaps due to the severity of the news, Lady Iellaya could see the lines along Jeroac Stom’s annoying face deepen. He took a long breath before he spoke. “It is difficult to describe the current tension within the Nexus. Both in the orthodox factions and in smaller, civilian groups. Other Commandants have begun to move troops to surround Aether pumps. A mysterious group attacked the home planet of Commandant Zettlequill, massacring her descendants and most of her entire race. It is impossible to prove, but it is likely that the culprits are other forces within Military High Command. Commandant Zettlequill hasn’t yet reacted, but that will only make the opposition bolder.
“Other civilian organizations are definitely accumulating forces in the shadows and it seems like they plan something large for while most of the Nexus is gathered next month for Don Beigon’s third Mille celebration-”
“Enough,” Commandant Wick said sourly with a rap of his knuckles on the desk. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, his expression unreadable. The room felt stuffy and small, with the wafting intensity he released.
The fact that he felt not an ounce of pleasure at hearing what befell Zettlequill’s home planet, proved to Lady Iellaya that the situation was just as bad as it seemed.
Infighting still wracked the remnants of the Engraving Guild, despite the other arms of the Nexus Labor Council trying to pacify the various groups and broker a peace. Probably the intensity of that conflict was why Military High Command moved slowly, but now the other large faction began to bare their teeth. Elhume remained unresponsive to messages from their Commandants, but that didn’t mean the other side was similarly blacklisted. Lady Iellaya wondered how Commandant Wick intended to handle this blatant affront to their honor.
Jeroac continued to speak. “Since the most powerful member of the faction has gone to the Path to the Pinnacle, we-”
BOOOM!
The door to Commandant Wick’s office shattered and blasted open, drawing the attention of all three of them. For a second Lady Iellaya’s mind wondered if the opposing group was so bold to attack Commandant Wick directly, but a complicated mix of relief and worry crossed Commandant Wick’s face made her realize that was not the case.
The controlled power dispersed, spraying bits of wood and dust. It was, Lady Iellaya, just an entrance.
For several seconds, the threshold remained empty Then a woman in tight brown leather pants sauntered through the broken remnants of the door. She had flaming red hair and a wide smile that raised the feathers along Lady Iellaya’s arms. “My, my, Wick, I knew you were disrespectful, but to think you’d infected your subordinates with that same lazy and ungrateful attitude toward me. Whatever did I do to deserve this?”
Commandant Wick’s face darkened and he moved to stand. “Grand Marshal Devick, I assure you that I-”
“Oh, no need to stand,” the woman put one hand on her hips and waved the other casually. Her fingertips spat pink sparks. “Isn’t our relationship much more intimate than that?”
Lady Iellaya tried to bring her hand up in salute and stand at attention but realized she was completely frozen by the other woman’s aura. Her powerful image of the Peregrine Serpent seemed locked in stasis in her chest, unable to even raise its head before this being, the Speculum who had raised Commandant Wick. Her feathers continued to tingle with worry.
Almost uneasily, Wick settled back into his chair. “Grand Marshal, I have made a mess. I apologize profuse-”
BOOOOOOOOM!
The woman’s movements were casual. She flicked out a hand and the desk in front of Wick was obliterated into splinters. That attack continued forward and slammed into Wick’s stomach, causing him to grunt and bend sharply forward as he was driven back into the wall behind him. Lady Iellaya’s eyes widened.
As he collapsed, the Grand Marshall stepped lazily forward through the ruins of the desk. “Not even standing to greet your teacher? Ah, I almost feel responsible for this slovenly display. I should have disciplined you better, so you didn’t turn out so unruly and wild.” When she reached the collapsed Wick, she raised her boot and pressed the bottom to the back of his head. She applied pressure until she could grind his face into the ground. “Still, I love you more than I would love my own son. Isn’t that right Wick? Okay, okay, I forgive you, no need to grovel so. And you two-”
The Grand Marshall rounded to face Lady Iellaya and Jeroac Stom, her boot still jamming Wick’s head into the ground despite her words. Her teeth were very white as she smiled at Jeroac. “You… why don’t you get us a drink? Find something expensive; I just came from training and could use some relaxation with friends. And you…”
Her eyes turned to Lady Iellaya. But then widened in a much more friendly look. “You are Lady Iellaya, right? I’m so glad to finally meet you! I personally understand firsthand how difficult it is to thrive as a woman in MIlitary High Command. Don’t worry; Girl power, and all that. Come, come, give me a hug!”
If Wick is madness bound by tight rules and regulations, Lady Iellaya stumbled forward, pulled by an invisible hook in the woman’s words. Not that she tried to, but she sensed that resisting would be almost impossible. Then this woman… is simply the rampant madness.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
They hugged. Lady Iellaya was sweating, but the other woman didn’t comment. The Grand Marshall simply patted her back and then shooed her away. “Okay, okay, don’t be so mopey. Won’t want Wick here to think you are too emotional, eh? Get us a table to drink. And glasses- that other fop didn’t seem very clever. And you, Wick.”
Grand Commandant Devick leaned over, her foot still pinning his head to the ground. The wooden floors cracked a testament to the force channeled through her leg. “I hear you are in trouble. Don’t worry though, I’ll take care of everything.”
Despite his circumstances, Commandant Wick managed a tight nod.
*****
Congratulations! Your Skill Absolute Timing (Ru) has grown to Level 227!
Randidly blinked and looked up at the sky. After struggling through the grueling process of forcing his way through a wind blade orb, the storm receded slightly. It satisfied itself with an intermittent barrage of singular wind blades, which were becoming easier for him to handle, despite their tier two power.
However, his Absolute Timing Skill told him something extremely strange in this period of peace: he had been climbing the mountain for only two days. Meanwhile, if he had been forced to guess, Randidly would have said that he had been at this for a little over two weeks.
I was beginning to worry about needing to leave for the Don’s party, but it looks like this mountain hides more secrets than I thought. He frowned upward at the steadily rising stone face, inscrutable and apathetic to his curiosity. This confusion definitely didn’t happen in the first tier. So there is some sort of time dilation in the second tier? No, I would sense it. Rather than any sort of time dilation…
Randidly licked his lips. ...its as though we are being accelerated with a foreign power. Jesus, what the hell is sitting at the summit of this mountain? What sort of Path am I walking on?
The grey clouds pulsed and churned; reflection time was almost over. Randidly groaned and straightened, rotating his shoulders to loosen up his joints before the next wave of attacks descended. At this point, his torso was completely bare; almost every part of him had been brutalized by the vicious blades of wind. He replaced his pants, but sacrificing another shirt to this mountain seemed pointless.
Sulfur remained in its suspended coma state, happily gathering more kinetic energy from the wind blades. Randidly didn’t begrudge him this; he knew that the more power his Soulseed absorbed before he awoke, the more impressive the shift would be.
Meanwhile, Randidly continued to gather insight into both the Grand Pattern and natural energy, to the point that his overwhelming 2499 Fidelity of the Ascendant Moirae overheated and steamed in his Soulspace. And honestly, the effects were not as great as he had been expecting.
He attempted to recall the effortless grace that the Nether King used to manipulate his intricate patterns, but the more Randidly tried to imitate that method, the more he felt himself struggling, for one simple but ridiculously impossible reason: the Nether King somehow managed to control a lossless system.
Everything around the Nether King had been part of the magic. Nothing was accidental in the arrangement. His understanding and poise toed the line of perfection. Meanwhile, Randidly spread out his Willpower as much as he could and pressed it against the natural energy, but he couldn’t manage anything close to that. It was a worrisome sign, but he had no choice but to recognize that he couldn’t just blindly imitate the Nether King.
In this case, my powerful strengths hold me back, Randidly thought bitterly as he raised Acri and began to gather natural energy in the face of the darkening clouds. First, the very Stat that has brought me so much success: Fidelity of the Ascendant Moirae. Moirae is a being that spun the fates of mortals. It is a gift of prophecy. However, from even what I’ve seen with my experiences with karma, fate isn’t absolute. My evolved Control relates to having a high degree of control over the inputs, not a perfect prediction of the outputs. As long as imperfection exists, this implied image isn’t a match for the Nether King’s methods.
Secondly, I basically have the same restriction due to Cutting Tides of Amenonuhoko. Tides are predictable broadly, but its the finicky and infinite interactions of each wave and current that are tripping me up. This is not a Skill designed for fine detail, but for sweeping power. So how can I stop butting up against my weaknesses and emphasize my strengths…?
Randidly bounced on the balls of his feet, feeling the constant surge of Nether through his body. His first thought was to just develop enough natural energy that he could deal with the wind blades sloppily: crush them directly. He had even made some small progress when he struggled through the first wind blade orb to do exactly that.
The wind blade orbs had a tight cage of natural force at their core that held them together and guided the dangerous blade edges. Randidly had struck at that and eventually dismantled the orb.
However, that watching consciousness in the storm immediately adjusted the wind blade orb to have tighter bonds and take up a smaller space, making Randidly’s methods much less effective. They shrank from a massive five-meter in diameter monster to a more reasonable three meters. His previous method would be extremely difficult to replicate. And somehow, Randidly sensed that as long as he ran away from meeting the wind blades directly, the storm would adjust.
Which really left him only a single choice: deepen his understanding of the Grand Pattern so he could pull the orbs apart.
Ultimately, his performance at the Imperium Ball and now, advancing through the first and part of the second tier, relied on him cheating. He could ignore his mistakes on this mountain because of his powerful body. Perhaps more importantly, rather than relying on understanding to handle the approaching wind blades, he avoided them with his powerful Grim Intuition and high Dreadful Alacrity.
Perhaps there was no real difference between observing and reacting rather than already knowing the answer intuitively, but Randidly had no other ideas at the moment.
“Besides,” he slapped his fist against his chest as the storm began spitting out triple wind blades to warm him up. “If nothing else, I don’t mind letting you carve the methods of the Grand Pattern into my body. Do your worst.”