Chapter 229
Rusty looked over his star system and just watched the planets, suns, and moons traverse through space in their natural celestial dance.
It was beautiful.
One of his favorite distractions, but a distraction nonetheless.
When the now Tier 17 Brigadier General Darrow entered his office, Rusty turned around and indicated the chair to the saluting man.
“At ease, General. We have a lot to discuss. Firstly, how have you been as of late?”
The dark-skinned man smiled and nodded as he took the proffered seat.
“Good, sir.”
Rusty coughed at the address. He was no longer in the chain of command, and technically no longer rated to be called sir. At least, not how the man clearly meant it.
Noticing the rebuff, Darrow shrugged. “You earned your rank both on the battlefield and off it, sir. Being promoted out of the military doesn't change that. In public, I will, of course, adhere to all proper edicts, but in private…”
Rusty suspected part of the comment was meant to tickle his ego, but he didn’t care. He missed the days when he was an active combatant in the military.
“Remember that. Moving on, how is the new rank and increase in Tier?”
Darrow nodded. “Quite nice, sir. It’s pleasing to be growing once again. I have some of my phrases and anchors confirmed as compatible pairs, and I believe I have an inclination for the form my image may take. Once I am strong enough, I will attempt to form it. I have also absorbed the full suite of cryptography skills required for my station. Regarding my new rank, things are quite well, sir. The other Generals have been welcoming and have even aided me with some tips for my Intent.”
Rusty translated that last bit as he wasn’t being frozen out of the top level command conversations, which was good. While not officially endorsed, not everyone the Royal Court decided to promote to the star ranks was welcomed by the other officers, and those who were rejected for whatever reason were frozen out of the meetings and information channels they needed to do their jobs.
With such a distinguished reputation, he hadn’t expected Darrow to meet such a fate, but he was in the relative minority of generals in that he did not possess a leadership Talent.
Despite that, the man lived and breathed the military, which was ultimately more important than being Talented.
Rusty pulled out a small booklet from his ring and passed it over the desk to Darrow. “Good to hear. Now, more to the point, this dossier is your official read-in to Project Breach. Team Zero will be your primary focus, of course, and correspondingly, the first five pages document Light and Shadow’s unmasked capabilities and preferred tactics. The next thirteen detail the other current members of Team Zero, in addition to candidates for the remaining positions.
“We have our recommendations, of course, but the final composition of Team Zero will be done according to your judgment. However, anyone not selected for Team Zero itself will still be made available to you through the broader Project Breach infrastructure. Now, this booklet is keyed to you alone, but still will not leave this room. Look through it, and begin to familiarize yourself with the individuals you will be working with.”
Rusty watched, as the man grew progressively more incredulous at the briefings. The best reaction, though, came when he reached Wellspring’s entry. At that, a glowing purple and blue eye shot open on his forehead, then blinked several times before closing once again.
“Sir, this can't be accurate. It’s…”
Rusty grinned. “It wasn’t an exaggeration when I said that the Empire’s very best would be a part of this program. The other Great Powers wish to see what we can accomplish, and we will certainly oblige them, and it is your job to push them to excel beyond imagination.”
“I would like to request time to work with each of them, to assess them in person.”
Rusty nodded. “Good man. Not all of them will be available yet, but we’ll ensure you are able to meet them as they have time. Now, the EMV Skybreaker is loading up in the main hangar. Report there, and assemble your initial drafts for team composition. Any questions?”
“No, your Majesty.”
Rusty grinned as he stood and proffered a hand.
“Have fun.”
Darrow's smile stretched across his face. “I most certainly will.”
Rusty watched the Empire's newest General walk through the halls as he idly did paperwork, with half a mind about how he missed the days when he was fighting on the front lines.
Thinking about Matt and how he would most certainly spark a real war, Rusty grinned. That was almost better.
He couldn’t wait to punch a Tier 50 in the face.
There were even a few Tier 50 mages amongst the rulers, and mages always made the best expressions when he punched them in the face.
Until then, he needed to do his job and ensure that they won this upcoming war, and that would not be an easy task.
Activating his [AI], he sent a message to his assistant. “Sharleen, do we have the latest report from the Armory? I’m only seeing last year's report in my ring.”
“It hasn't arrived yet, your Majesty. I’ve already sent a message asking for a status update, but they are delaying.”
Rubbing his eyes, Rusty wished he could punch his own people.
“I assume you sent the message with my seal?”
“Of course, your Majesty.”
Rusty sighed. “If they don't get the report in by night standard time, let me know, so I can knock heads together. I don't fucking care if they are behind on production. I care that they aren’t telling me sooner.”
“I will, your Majesty.”
At least he would get a break when he went to Matt and Liz’s wedding. He wondered if he could sneak a spar in with the duo. Melinda would be there, so no risk of injury, and weddings always gave people jitters that they needed to work off.
A good spar always cleared the head.
***
Harper looked through the crowd of seemingly average people and inspected each of them one by one, seeing what ticks and tells each of them gave off.
The new batch of spies, infiltrators, and assassins.
Each of them had a different style, but some stood out more than others.
The young man that flinched anytime someone got too close to him was interesting, but his phobia was obviously faked from how he flinched the same way every time. It was a good start, however, someone so obviously nervous often was more capable of bypassing scrutiny than even an airtight backstory.
A woman with biological heterochromia used her stunning eyes as a way to hit everyone who looked at her with a subtle illusion and charm spell combo that her records said was self created.
Harper found it impressive, but not nearly subtle enough.
A blurry man with a shaved head and massive beard that screamed dangerous was probably Harper's favorite of the current cohort.
The man was a mass of contradictions. He was formerly a therapist who had tired of the simple life and joined an assassin guild, before leaving the guild to start doing corporate infiltration and espionage.
When the man had been caught by one of Harper's agents, they had asked why he went down the path, and his answer was perfect.
He liked the challenge, and felt free fitting into other roles.
Simple and definitive.
The perfect person who wouldn't mind pretending to be someone else for years, if not decades, before activating and doing whatever it was that was needed of him. He had proven he was capable of wet work and the more subtle espionage, which gave him a plethora of skills that Harper’s people could hone into a razor's edge.
Then, there were the others.
The spies.
The thieves.
The assassins.
All acceptable, except these were trying to infiltrate their organization, and that was unforgivable.
Emmanuel thankfully agreed with them, and used his father's Tier 50 Talent to check the applicants backgrounds more thoroughly than anyone could hide, and it was thanks to him that Harper knew the plants in their midst.
Some of them didn’t even know they were compromised, but that wouldn’t prevent Harper from acting.
From amongst the crowd, Harper stepped into the air and gathered everyone's attention. “Welcome to the only meeting where you will ever be in the same room together. We only do this together for one reason. It makes it easier to prove a point and clean out the spies from the other Great Powers.”
With a dramatic raise of their hand, Harper grabbed each and every mole and spy before levitating them above everyone else.
With a closing of their hand, the dozen people exploded in a shower of blood that stopped right above the heads of everyone else.
“Let this be a lesson to you all. Spies, when caught, get one of two endings. Death if you are lucky, or long and brutal torture to make an example of you, if you are not so fortunate. Most likely, you will be subject to more mind altering spells and Talents than you knew existed, and they will pry every memory out of your head.”
With a thought, the blood gathered into a ball before Harper destroyed it with their Domain.
“I would tell you that this is your last chance to leave the organization, but that chance was when you left your accommodations this morning. The next time you leave this facility, you will be going out on your first assignment.”
Walking through the air on pads of [Telekinesis], Harper continued, “I will be personally overseeing the initial portions of your training, and the next year will be one of the worst of your lives. It will also be the year that keeps you alive for the rest of it. Do remember that even with my lessons, there is always the risk you will stumble upon someone with an ability that breaks your cover, and that's where most of you will die.”
Smiling under the mask, Harper remembered the indoctrination speech they had gotten so many years ago, and ended theirs the same way.
“For those that survive, you will have no glory, but you will have rewards. Leave the glory to those in the light. We are those who lurk in the shadows.” Pausing for the dramatic effect, they added, “And the shadows around here cover a multitude of dangers.”
Sadly, Harper wouldn't be able to see the ending of their training.
Matthew and Elizabeth were getting married soon, and they weren’t going to miss it. It was the largest political event of the century, and they needed to ensure that no one learned anything they shouldn't from being so close to the kids.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
***
King Frederic Macheteuil stood in front of the statue and inspected it from head to toe.
Carved from the finest Tier 45-Star Marble, it served as a replica of his parents.
It was perfect by every metric, yet he still hated it.
Looking at the sculpture, he nodded. “Wonderful work Albert. It surpasses even your previous achievements.”
A factually true statement, but that wouldn’t stop him from wishing he didn’t need a replica of his parents. They were gone.
Not dead, unless they had run into something unfortunate in the higher Realms, but functionally, they were dead to him due to that level of separation.
His parents had never been what one could call perfect, but they had tried their best to balance duty and obligation with raising him. He respected that challenge now, after raising his own children, even as heir apparent. The demands on his time had been never ending, even with him officially taking fifteen years off to actually be with his children. But while they might remove themselves from the world, the world still moved on, whether they liked it or not.
Regardless, his parents were still gone, and all he had of them were a series of statues.
An expensive hobby, but one he enjoyed.
Turning away from the newest statue, he walked Albert out and told him he would have another commission for him in a few decades. When this statue stopped hurting, it would be time to get another.
Returning to his office, he went back to the task of obfuscating the resources that were being redirected from the Farm. Not an easy task, but one that had its own rewards. While Emmanuel had to and would approve each of his ideas before they were implemented, he could still ensure that the hereditary noble factions got their fair share.
Sadly he couldn’t just rely on his [AI] to do it— as good as those skills were, sometimes they were predictable in their methods— so he needed to review and tweak every suggestion.
Just when he was getting into a groove, he got a high priority message from one of his research teams.
They had a breakthrough on his mana concentration solution for young Matthew.
Ripping his way through reality to enter chaotic space, he reentered real space on the other side of his star system, on the Tier 20 planet's second moon base where his high Tier research center was located. After letting his [AI] pair with the local defenses and verify that he wasn't an imposter, he entered.
Most of it was Talent-driven tech, and thus impossible to reproduce, but it was all the stronger for it. It was an unfortunate consequence of the way the world worked that a single Talent could outperform tens of thousands of years of development and practice, yet there was nothing to be done save to utilize such opportunities when they presented themselves.
It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t just, but the world cared little for such notions.
Once he was fully scanned and able to safely pass the defensive measures, he entered and was once more scanned by a team of security guards. They were completely professional and treated him like any other visitor, which told him they weren’t slacking on their training. Some of his people had started trying to give him special access through things like security checkpoints after his promotion, which was stupid to anyone who spent more than ten seconds thinking about it.
Thankfully, he didn’t need to get a new security team.
Once he was verified to be who he said he was, he quickly entered and moved through the halls until he reached his ninth special research room. The one working to make a mana concentration alternative to solve Matthew’s little issue.
Entering, he saw half a dozen crafters and researchers looming around what looked like a shard of metal.
Observing it told him little. Black, darker than iron and pitted from age, the remnants of runes were visible as carved recession on the flat rim, and the circular edge of the platform suggested it was just a fragment of a larger circle.
All in all, it was an unremarkable piece of metal, save for the fact he recognized it immediately.
It was part of his collection of relics from the pre-shattering era, and he had no idea it had been taken out of his collection or that his team was researching it.
As he neared it, he realized he was actually wrong. It wasn’t the one in his personal collection. It was something incredibly similar, however. Or rather, his mother had bought it and put it in her collection that Frederic had inherited. He had seen it only once or twice.
That was his mother's hobby, not his.
His head researcher, Rebecca, was the first to speak. “Sir, as my report indicated, we made a breakthrough, at least theoretically. We do have solid proof that this method has worked in the past, which is better than the other avenues we’ve looked into. It's just…”
As she trailed off, she looked to a younger-looking man Frederic needed his [AI] to identify.
Oliver Jenkins, a Tier 25 researcher with a specialty in pre-shattering relics, and a long history of working as an appraiser for teams who brought said relics back to the Empire from the lost worlds that wandered through chaotic space.
The fact he was here now told Frederic quite a lot. He let the man speak. “Good day, your Majesty. I was contacted by the team and brought along after I bought this relic from a team of delvers who found an old penal colony from the pre-shattering Empire. They found a moon that had been broken open and inside was the colony. Most everything was destroyed from what we can only surmise was the convicts escaping, but this fragment of a formation was preserved.”
The man’s hand shook slightly as he pointed. “It’s—” Swallowing, he interrupted himself. “Your Majesty, have you ever heard of what the Glorious Everlasting Kingdom of Prosperity rulers did to their fallen political rivals?”
Shaking his head, Frederic indicated his answer even as he pinged the LocalNet for that very information. The EmpireNet and all other net accesses were strictly controlled, as this was a secret bunker after all.
He came back with nothing, but Oliver explained, “They didn’t just imprison or kill them. They considered that too lenient. They wanted their fallen foes to suffer as they watched their ruler, um, rule. But they couldn’t keep other Tier 47s around without being a massive security risk, so they devised a tool that they claimed would forcibly condense the mana in the mana pool, causing massive spiritual damage and a horrific amount of pain while reducing their mana to basically nothing. Less-than-one nothing, at that. Normally, this would be attributed to simple Talent impact, but these devices were in use for millions of years, indicating that at minimum their lingering effects couldn’t be too reliant on a specific Talent interaction. Otherwise, any malfunction in the wake of their original creator ascending would be irreparable. We’re hopeful that we can reestablish functionality and focus more on the concentration effect.”
Swallowing, Oliver straightened his back, and Frederic could see him wanting confirmation that they didn’t intend to revive that practice on anyone. Frederic’s moral side agreed. His practical side, for both Matt and potential enemies, did not waver, and was far stronger.
Still, he suspected he would need this man's loyalty, and so told him what he safely could. “A promising possibility. I assume you are also attempting to make it less traumatic? We have no desire to use this as a punishment, after all.”
That last bit wasn’t entirely true, as there were a few people he would take great pleasure in using such a device on, but his words were enough to mollify Oliver.
“Now, I believe I’ve seen something similar. Is this something that will assist you in your work?” He quickly recalled a record he had of a similar-looking relic and sent it to Oliver and Rebecca.
His hopes were immediately dashed as Oliver shook his head.
“No, your Majesty. I’ve seen that formation before. That’s just a relic of one of their intra-system teleporters. Over here, this section acts as input modulation, and they’re placed in a way that indicates it’s specifying a location, rather than simple settings. In fact, you can see here where your piece slots into this reconstruction of a complete teleportation formation. We’ve tested this design, before you ask, and it’s inferior to modern designs in every way. So while interesting, it's of little value.”
Frederic nodded, that sounded exactly like the sort of thing his mother would have collected.
“Very well. Back to the concentration relic. Is there anything you need to further your study? A salvage team to try and recover the rest of the formation? Archivists to look for other pieces in the records?”
Oliver shook his head.
“No, your Majesty, I’m afraid not. There were only eight such platforms ever built, and five of them were jettisoned into the depths of chaotic space alongside the penal planets they were built on, never to be seen again, and two others were lost to history. This fragment was from the final one, and has been passing between private collections for close to three million years now. I managed to obtain it about ten thousand years ago and wrote a paper on it, setting it into my personal collection and mostly forgetting about it until I was contacted by your team.”
Rebecca stepped in, preempting Frederic’s next question. “We already have Belle on it, but because of just how old the relic is and in how bad of a condition it’s in, plus the that fact we’re pretty sure it was at least based on Talent tech to begin with, progress is fairly slow. Not too slow, however, so we’re looking at somewhere between two to twenty thousand years before we see a working prototype, if just trying to recreate the machine. We’re also working on trying to understand it, but simple recreation is likely to be much faster. Also, though, the testing will break a dozen Empire laws every time, which—”
Frederic waved her to stop there. “This is a project being developed jointly by ourselves and the Emperor. We will have no lack of funding or restrictions to hinder us. If nothing else, initial testing can be done on rift monsters.”
Letting his perception slip to its Tier 46 state he ran through the possibilities, probabilities, and opportunities.
Ultimately, he decided this was enough to go to Emmanuel with.
It was still something of a long shot, but the sheer scope of Talents the Emperor had could possibly enable some unique breakthrough that could shrink research from millennium to centuries, or even decades. Furthermore, he wanted to make the report before one of Emmanuel’s personal teams came to the same finding.
If that happened, he’d lose the bargaining chip he worked so hard for and spent so many resources looking for.
If his faction was to get through Emmanuel's rule with Matt funding his projects intact, they needed to prove their value before that value was negated.
After exiting the moon's base, he returned to his home and sent a message requesting a call with the highest priority he had access to.
In less than a second, a series of tiny teleporters flickered, sending a single data packet from planet to planet through a dozen channels until it reached the capital.
Two seconds after his message was sent, the Emperor's reply came through, and an illusion of the man materialized in front of him. Frederick didn’t know what Talent or set of Talents the man was using to project himself this far across the Empire, but that was irrelevant for now.
They didn’t truly speak, because sound was far too slow for even a Tier 47, let alone a Tier 50, but their conversation progressed swiftly. Frederic took a small amount of pleasure from Emmaunel’s reaction to his findings, and while he agreed it was something of a long shot, there was enough evidence for him to provide some aid. Even a small amount would be enough to let him know if he even could be useful, and if the Emperor himself was able to lend aid to their research project, they could potentially come to a workable device before the end of their next war.
This was, of course, just the latest attempt out of many, but eventually, they would find something capable of aiding Matt. Even if the machine was horribly inefficient, to the point where it would be completely and utterly crippling to anyone who tried to use it, that wouldn’t matter to the young man they were pinning so many of their hopes on.
And who cared about anyone else.
Emmanuel’s return message was all that Frederic cared about. “Well done. Start working on the prototypes and send teams to look for any other remnants of that formation. I’m not sure how it will interact with their Talent but it's better than nothing.”
As the communications relay broke off, he leaned back and smiled while he sent an order for the team to go on lock down and start working on the research.
Step one was done, and with a team with even some experience, he was sure he could leverage them as the main workforce going forward on the project.
In its current form, it was less than ideal even for Matthew to use, but their technological base was better than the Glorious Everlasting Kingdom of Prosperity’s was, even at the peak of their power. The Empire and all the other Great Powers were built off their remains, after all, and it wasn’t like everything was lost.
While he didn’t expect they would get the technology viable for anyone without a Talent based mana pool, he was sure they could reduce the spiritual strain at least to some degree. That, combined with even a small increase to the efficiency, would equal a nigh perfect solution to one of Emmanuel's most pressing issues.
All solved by his faction.
Instead of returning to his work, he started drafting other messages.
This leverage needed to be properly placed if they wanted to maximize its effect, and that meant coordination and planning.
At least he had good news for Matthew as a wedding present.
***
Tur'stal looked at the farm system below her and couldn’t believe that she wasn’t here to tend to the planets’ growth once again. She had done so once a decade since she took up her position, but this time, she administered the last of the resources these planets would ever see.
Instead of the usual tons of mana stones or specific natural treasures that would let the planet grow faster, she was directing the planet's rapid growth to something more sustainable.
Today, she was here for a single purpose, and hopefully, the last one for a long time, if not forever.
Her target was one with comparatively little biodiversity, a desert planet with two suns. The creatures she retrieved en masse, and while finding every last Tier 30 desert mouse wasn’t feasible, she did her best to ensure that every species had its representation, from the meanest gnat to the great sandworms lurking within the planet’s endless dune seas. She would relocate them to another world once she found one, where they would hopefully be able to thrive.
They didn’t deserve to die because they needed to cannibalize their homes.
The monsters that had broken free from their rifts were not given such gentle treatment and were directly eliminated instead.
Once that was done, she flew into the molten outer core of her chosen planet until she found its inner core.
Physically a ball of molten iron, she drove through its depths, and at the exact center where the gravity well pulled everything in, she found the physical accumulation of the planet's true core.
It was beautiful.
It was powerful.
It was valuable.
Removing it meant the death of the planet, but that was her job.
She was a gardener, and that included the harvest.
Just because she didn’t enjoy it didn’t mean it wasn’t necessary. This ‘fruit’ would be part of the payment and materials a certain Talented alchemist required for upcoming services. She certainly hoped that Matt’s Intent would solve his concentration problems, because this simply wasn’t sustainable.
That small measure of distraction reminded her, and her eyes flicked back to the handwritten invitation she had received not long ago. Her niece was getting married, and marriage was always a reason to celebrate. She just hoped Mara and Leon could keep themselves from losing their minds and stealing the planet.
That was one of her planets, and they had agreed they were only allowed to take the island the kids got married on, which had already needed an argument. They wanted to take the entire continental plate the island was connected to, but she flatly refused. That was a resort planet that half of her kingdoms nobles got married on.
A continent could not go missing just because the duo were hoarders.
Thinking about the shenanigans her fellow royals could get up to if unattended when it came to their children's nuptials, she decided she needed to arrive sooner than later.
***
Aiden looked at the small paper and looked around in confusion, finally catching the eyes of his wife. “Liz is getting married? How? She’s like twenty?”
Madea rolled her eyes but avoided his gaze. “If someone wasn’t forgetting their duties back home, they would know she's almost sixty, and about to reach Tier 15.”
Duke Waters grinned as he pulled his wife into a kiss. “I said I was sorry, but I had to take my opportunity to fight. I was going crazy sitting around for so long, but I feel like I wasn’t gone for forty years. Like five at best.”
“Oh? So you were bored spending time with me?”
Realizing he had been caught in a verbal trap, Aiden grinned as he waded in deeper. “I’m sure I can make it up to you?”
A tentacle wrapped around his leg dragging him down into the depths of his home. "Oh, you will."