Joram watched Bai Lian step into her cell and make her way over to her wall-mounted bed and sit on the edge of it before he touched the activation panel. The force field sprang to life as she calmly watched him.
“What was their cultivation?”
Bai Lian blinked at him in confusion, making him realize that he’d forgotten to specify who he meant.
“The two you pointed out earlier.”
Reminded of her time going through the dead, Bai Lian’s complexion blanched as her eyes dropped to stare at her feet.
“They were both in the Heaven Realm,” she said softly.
He just nodded before walking off. It took him only a few seconds to get to the next cell, this one containing the male Bai Lian had pointed out. He was no longer covered by a sheet, though he was laying on one.
The man looked to be the same age as Bai Lian, though his complexion was darker, as though he spent lots of time outside. And with how fit the man looked, he suspected that he’d also trained his body. He was tall, taller than Joram was at the moment, but relatively lean.
And he wasn’t afraid to admit it: the man was also relatively handsome. His brow was strong, his jaw square, and he even had a nose that was just the right size for his face. Not that he was comparing anything. Nope. His own nose was perfect in this life.
*Cough*
Joram stepped into the cell and knelt beside the body. He was still a bit unsure of himself, as speaking with the “enemy” hadn’t quite gone how he had thought it would.
In his previous life, he’d been a great proponent of forgiveness to those who truly regretted their actions and worked to turn over a new leaf, as it were. That didn’t mean that you should immediately trust that person again. No, trust needed to be built up again, if it could.
He even chose to forgive the unrepentant, as he thought of them. The ones who either didn’t care about what they’d done, deliberately or unintentionally, or had actively done terrible things to him and others. Now, with people like that, it was best to cut off all contact with them even if he managed to forgive them.
It wasn’t because he’d been Christian, but that had certainly informed how he viewed the world. No, it was because he realized that not forgiving someone, also known as holding a grudge, was like willingly taking poison. Every time you thought of that grudge, of the things that had happened to you or whatever, it would poison you. You’d eventually be changed by it, becoming more jaded, less willing to trust or give the benefit of the doubt. It hardened you. It also ate away at you.
It eroded you, if you let it stay. Fears became anxiety, sometimes crippling in its presence in your life. Other times it became PTSD, almost always preventing the person from living a normal life.
He’d seen it more than a few times over his decades on Earth. And it saddened him.
So, he’d worked at letting those grudges go; at forgiving those who’d wronged him. It hadn’t been easy, nor had he gotten all the way there by the time he’d been pulled into this new world.
Which meant that he was having a very hard time dealing with his feelings surrounding the ones responsible for such heartache and grief. He was having a hard time reconciling his original thoughts of Bai Lian being a heartless monster who’d participated in the wanton slaughter of almost everyone he knew in the world, and the one he’d gained of her after spending some time with her.
He’d spent most of his life on Earth sharing with people the value of being able to view any situation, thought, or belief from multiple angles. Of having the ability to view something from the other side. Being broadminded, if you will.
But right now, his heart wanted to ignore the other side of things and lash out at the people who’d hurt him and his family. Screw being broadminded. Screw understanding the one who’d hurt him. Let them all burn!
All that had been going through is head as he’d escorted Bai Lian throughout the day. Had still been going through his head as he’d watched her inspect her dead comrades. But his hate had started to falter. His nature had started to impose itself more and more as the hours dragged on.
Until they’d been sitting on the side of the mountain just above the entrance to the Library. When Bai Lian answered honestly, taking responsibility for what she’d done, ready to accept what was to come, a memory had pushed its way forward.
It was a stupid memory, nothing really to do with what was going on. He’d gotten his first speeding ticket after only having his driver’s license for about eight months. His mother had gone with him to help pay the ticket and had wanted to speak with a magistrate.
He’d been a bit intimidated at being in the presence of a magistrate at the time and had been in awe of her when his mother had tried to take charge of the conversation as the magistrate read over the violation. She’d looked his mother in the eye and had spoken.
Magistrate: “Is this your ticket?”
Mother: “No.”
Magistrate: “Then why are you talking?”
His mother had spluttered for a moment before stepping aside. The magistrate then looked at him and spoke.
Magistrate: “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Joram: “I was speeding. I deserved it,” he’d said with a shrug.
His simple reply had shocked the magistrate and his mother both. So impressed with him was the magistrate that she’d reduced the fine to the minimum and had waved the demerits that would have appeared on his record.
The look in Bai Lian’s eyes had shown him that she had understood, then accepted her culpability and what came with it. It wasn’t the bluster of someone pretending to accept what they’d done, putting on a brave face before their punishment arrived. Not something fake, but something that had come from her heart, from her willingness to accept the consequences of what she’d done; the desire to atone for her actions.
It had engendered a seed of respect for her in his heart that refused to be ignored from there-on out.
Well, not that much time had passed since they’d spoken at sunset. He didn’t know if his subconscious had been working in overtime processing things as he’d walked with Bai Lian back to the cells, or what. But it didn’t matter now as he stood over someone Bai Lian had thought of as “good”.
Why had he asked her to do that?
Well, it had been a purely selfish request there. Since he’d decided to bring back other invaders, he wanted to try to avoid anyone that might wind up being… rude. Toxic. Verbally abusive. He’d been on the fence about Bai Lian and had realized that if he’d had to deal with a “not nice” person, then he really might have tipped over to the side of “annihilate them all”.
“This sucks,” he muttered to himself. “I should just let Grammy take care of all this.” He said, his base desire to avoid conflict rearing its ugly head.
Not that avoiding conflict in and of itself was a bad thing… if done for the right reasons, that is. Nah, this was just a sliver of PTSD that hadn’t quite been worked through yet.
No, he’d do what needed to be done for the sake of his clan and family who’d died or been taken.
It was then that he shifted into his planar form. Next, he had M3 manifest [Delve] on the body, the tip of his shoe touching the foot of the corpse, as he reached out his hand and held it above the body and said firmly, “[True Resurrection].”
He once again paid as much attention to the process as he could. Joram felt as the energy within him flowed out of him in the form of that innate spell, felt as it took the inanimate organic material in the shape of a human and revivified it. But what really caught his attention was what he perceived with his spiritual senses.
He saw the man’s soul come into view as though it had always been there, but had been out of focus. His soul sank into the now vital body, causing the man to gasp a great breath as his eyes popped open, looking around wildly.
Joram took that instant to step back, shift back to his Aneath form, and activate the force field. He’d already taken note that the man’s cultivation was now in the 4th Tier, one realm lower than what Bai Lian had reported.
It took the man a few seconds to process things before he sat up, feeling at his chest where a hole in his kung-fu-like shirt should have let him touch his death wound.
It seemed that Avi had really enjoyed using her omni-blade to take people out.
The man’s eyes locked onto Joram, taking him in, then they widened as he seemed to recognize him or something.
“Sit tight, someone will be with you later,” Joram said, then stepped into the hallway.
The cells weren’t like the prison cells you’d see on TV or something. Each cell had its own small room attached to it which in turn had a door that led to the hallway. This allowed for a bit of privacy when the need to interrogate someone arose. Or if you just wanted to keep people separate.
It looked as though the man was about to say something as the door closed, but didn’t manage to say anything before it did. Joram stepped into the other room as he shifted back into his planar form and looked at the young woman’s body of the floor.
She, too, had been taken out by Avi’s omni-blade through the heart, leaving her chest exposed due to the burned away cloth of her robe.
He looked at her face as he crouched down, pulling up the corner of the sheet she’d been placed upon and covered her up.
The young woman was pretty, he had to admit. He didn’t know if that beauty had hidden a rotten heart, or if she had indeed been a good person before she’d died. She was slender like Bai Lian, but managed to be curvier, and had a face that looked as though someone had drawn the perfect visage and placed it on a person.
Weird way to think of it, but that’s just how “perfect” her face was, framed by her midnight black hair. He couldn’t see what colour her eyes were, but he suspected they’d also dazzle once opened.
He sighed. How would she react to being revived? The man had been relatively calm which had made this, his next attempt, easier.
Joram brought his hands up to his face, clapping his cheeks to focus his mind better.
He wasn’t even sure he could use [True Resurrection] again today, as he was reasonably sure that he should only be able to cast it once per day. He felt as though his innate magic was mostly drained for the day, but wondered if Altaea’s technique of using psionic energy to fuel her spell-like abilities would work for this.
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He shrugged, then closed his eyes, bringing his focus to his Knowledge Sea. Well, it was more of a solar system now than anything else.
Focus!
His innate magical power wasn’t represented here, but he still spent a few minutes watching the orbits of his Cores around his Knowledge Star- Psionic Star?- and the Psijic Star. With the method he’d worked out to circulate mana through his body again, the Cores were once again slowly growing.
It was always relaxing to watch those many cores of different colours as they went through their orbits. Even watching the two Stars slowly rotate around each other was a sight to behold. Their light would slowly undulate and shimmer, giving him the impression of liquid light contained in a glass orb.
He observed that there was a small, but steady stream of energy leaving the Psionic Star and making its way to the Psijic Star, slowly feeding it. The same was true for the multitude of Cores as they passed close enough to the Psijic Star.
He had already noticed that some of the mana that he circulated through his body and to the Cores also went to the Psijic Star, though it took the form of an accretion disc around it. It was actually rather pretty to see, as the mana from cultivating, the mana from the other Cores, and the psionic power coming from the Psionic Star all entered the same accretion disc, giving it a stunning swirl of colours.
As he stared at the Psijic Star the urge to use that energy to fuel [True Resurrection] grew until it became action.
Eyes still closed, he reached to the part of him that held that spell, activated it, but then manually pulled psijic energy over to supply the energy-hungry spell.
Joram felt as the spell seemed to shudder as the psijic energy flowed through its matrix while also drawing the rest of his latent planar magic, combining it all in one glorious mess.
His eyes popped open as he felt the spell leave him, then enter the corpse of the woman in front of him.
To say that the visual effects of the spell had changed would have been both an understatement and quite obvious.
Normally, if there was a corpse to use, it would glow and then be restored to perfect condition. And that was about it.
Now?
The body still glowed, but the increase in brightness didn’t end there. Her body lit up like the sun as it began to float off the ground, lifting up so that she was in a standing position. Then came the heat.
It wasn’t noticeable at first, especially due to his immunity to fire, but then he noticed her clothes begin to smoke. It became especially obvious when her clothes burst into flame, incinerating in seconds, also lighting the sheet on the ground on fire, then the bed on the wall. Then finally his own clothes.
He really wished that his immunity to fire also extended to his clothing, but he supposed the universe just didn’t work that way.
After only about ten seconds, the woman lowered until her feet touched the ground, leaving her standing with her eyes closed, her luminescence dimming until it was gone. He took that opportunity to shift back to his Aneath form, wanting to see her reaction when she realized who he was. Then she sucked in a great breath- causing him to strain to keep his eyes on her eyes- and opened her eyes.
He didn’t know when he’d stood up, but noticed it now that he was looking slightly down into her violet eyes from only a foot away.
She blinked, then blinked again, then looked down. Then back up.
Joram got a chill down his spine as her eyes remained as serene as a deep pool in winter. This was normally when someone would, justifiably, freak out.
Just as he was about to say something, a spark appeared in her eyes as he felt a spike in her mana circulation. Up came her hand, crackling with lightning.
* * * * *
Avi fell out of her chair; she was laughing so hard.
You couldn’t have scripted that better! She’d been curious when Joram had requested both bodies at the same time, so she’d put the feeds for the two cells up on one of her displays.
The first resurrection went about as textbook standard as it could be. As had the person’s reaction to being brought back from the dead. Confused, disoriented. But he’d taken it well enough and had sat upon his bunk to meditate.
Which really said a lot about his character.
Then Joram had gone to the next cell. She was pretty sure that he’d try again, likely remembering how Altaea could fuel her spell-like abilities with her psionic reserve. It took a bit of practice, but seeing as how both power sources came from the same person, it would work with a bit of tweaking. Easy enough.
But then her sensors went off the charts as Joram activated the spell, throwing her expectations out the window. If she had had to guess about what he’d done, she’d have said that he had experimented with using that new Psijic energy. And she’d have been right.
What was entirely unexpected were the results. Never before had she seen (well, none of Altaea’s memories contained) such a phenomenon when [True Resurrection] was used by a non-deity.
The flames were an especially good touch, adding much to the visual effects. And the aftereffects!
She was about to send Joram a wolf-whistle over the Network when the woman’s eyes opened. Her reaction would be the stuff of legends.
That she managed to send Joram flying with an openhanded slap was impressive, especially given that Joram had cultivated the Adamantium Body Technique. Well, maybe that didn’t really matter as much given that Joram’s mass hadn’t really changed much.
But she was very glad that she’d forced his body to integrate the Heavenly Lightning Jade Dragon scale, otherwise that much current flowing through his brain might have fried it to a crisp.
She at least had the presence of mind to activate the forcefield, preventing the woman from following up on her initial attack. Avi was also glad that the cameras were always recording what happened. She definitely wouldn’t let Joram live this one down for some time.
A droid brought her a bowl of buttery popcorn.
This is so much better than working on reports, she thought as she chomped down on the popcorn.
* * * * *
Never before had Mo Yu been so humiliated in her twenty years of life!
Her hand still stung from the blow she’d given the pervert when she’d come to. She was honestly shocked that he’d survived the blow unscathed, even if it had felt like she’d struck solid metal instead of someone’s cheek.
To her immense surprise, she found herself cursing the boy out. Never before had she used such language. Not that she thought she was too good to cuss, but because she instead preferred to use her words cleverly. With finesse and dignity.
She had been raised in the Sky Lotus Sect, trained from youth to use her mind effectively. To sharpen her wit and expand her vocabulary so that she could accurately convey what she thought, or what she needed. She loved participating in discussions and debates, using a soft voice and kind tone to keep things civil. She’d seen far too many “discussions” turn into yelling matches because a person couldn’t control their temper.
Which she had thought she’d mastered long ago.
Apparently not, she thought as her mouth continued to spew forth scathing insults, condemnation, and accusations of deviancy and perversion until he left the room moments later.
She didn’t know why she was reacting so… viscerally to the situation. It wasn’t like she hadn’t found boys trying to peep while she and her fellow female disciples were bathing. She’d been naked in front of her other female disciples as they changed, readying themselves for various activities, and had even suffered under the hands of a senior disciple when the woman had started going on about how it wasn’t fair that some women got all the “charms”, all the while emphasizing her points while groping her chest.
Yes, she’d been through much.
But the young man in front of her had somehow angered her to the core. It took her a few minutes to realize, at least in part, what it was.
It was his eyes.
She would have expected a young man’s eyes to be shining with lust at the sight of her standing there naked, just a foot away, close enough to embrace. She had also expected a physical reaction from him down there, just as she’d heard other female disciples gossip about.
But there hadn’t been a reaction, and that had sparked a… an indignation in her that she hadn’t realized could be triggered. Every story she’d heard regarding intimate interactions between men and women from her fellow disciples had included just how lustful men, especially young men, were.
So, did that mean that the “young” man in front of her was actually some ancient old pervert?
And as soon as that thought had crossed her mind, she had felt her mana circulating through her meridians, converting into lightning-attributed mana. Then her body moved on its own, lashing out at the perceived threat.
She looked up as the outside door opened once more, admitting the “young” man. She noticed three things then. The first was that he was now clothed in a simple shirt and pants combination, all in a light tan colour. The second was that he was studiously looking anywhere but at her. The third, and most welcome, was that he was carrying an extra set of clothing.
He walked over to the side of her cell, at the corner where the barrier met the wall, placed the clothing in a small tray, then opened a little door and slid the tray in, closing the little door again once done.
She looked at the wall beside the barrier on her side, and finally noticed a matching door there. She approached, hand and arm covering her nakedness, but didn’t manage to catch him peeking. Mo Yu then opened the little door on her side and quickly retrieved the clothing.
It took her a few seconds to go over what she’d been given. She was confused at how small the panties were, and the odd design for what she took to be a chest wrap. It was a weird thing that took her another minute before guessing at how to wear it.
For as weird as the design was, it was surprisingly comfortable once on. The wide straps that were attached to the cups of smooth material that held her breasts were soft and padded enough to make the weight of her breasts feel less… heavy. Even the strap on the back was wide enough to distribute any pressure that was there in a comfortable way.
The blouse-like shirt and pants provide were plain as could be, but the fabric was soft and comfortable to wear.
She looked again at the “young” man as he stood with his back to her while she dressed. Her clothes matched his in colour and fabric, though the designs of their respective outfits were obviously made for a man and a woman. But she couldn’t help but think they matched.
Which sent first a chill down her spine, then a flush of anger up to her cheeks, causing them to colour.
It was then that the “young” man turned around and regarded her, this time with slight embarrassment.
“That wasn’t how I saw things going,” he said, still not quite looking at her, which, for some reason, annoyed her more.
Which, in turn, confused her enough that she remained silent, not sure what she should say. Should she give him another tongue-lashing? Make acidic comments about his moral character? Point out how she was a captive, and he therefore did not need to pretend to be polite?
“Ah, I suck at this,” she heard him quietly murmur to himself as he looked at the ceiling before turning to look her in the eyes.
“You’re here because you participated in the attack that destroyed my family, my home, and Brightside. You’ll answer any questions you’re asked,” he said, his piercing green eyes now causing a different shiver to run up her spine.
She took in his appearance again, and the minor detail that his hair was purple finally registered in her head.
He was from the Clear Knowledge Clan, and he’d somehow not only managed to survive, but had captured her as well. She looked around her cell again, taking in the ashes before she felt a pulse of Qi go through the room that removed all traces of ash that had covered everything along with the scorch marks.
She extended her sense to the barrier, but found no traces of an array. It also stopped her divine senses quite thoroughly, making her unable to sense anything outside of her cell.
Her gaze returned to the “young” man again, likely of the Aneath line. When he saw that her attention was back on him, he nodded.
“Get comfortable, you’ll be here for a while,” he said, then turned and left the room.
Mo Yu blinked then looked around, noting the unusually smooth, stone-like floor, what looked like a privy behind a low wall that came up to her waist, and the slab of metal sticking out of the wall that was about the right size to hold a bed.
“And how, pray tell, am I supposed to do that?” She yelled at the door, stomping her bare foot on the ground, causing her to wince.
* * * * *
*Thud*
*Thud*
*Thud*
Avi watched as Joram, sitting at his desk, banged his head on it repeatedly. She was about to point out that his desk wouldn’t survive much more of that when he finally stopped, placed a hand on the desk and manifested [Reconstruction] on it.
He looked over at her with slightly dead eyes that also managed to remind her of a sad puppy.
“That could have gone better,” she said, successfully keeping the mirth she felt out of her voice.
He just blinked at her; his stare unchanging.
“It could also have gone a lot worse,” she said, pointing out the obvious.
“I had to invent probably the most shameful magic item to ever be created in the history of this world just to go back in and speak with her,” he said, his voice going from flat to indignant at the end.
Avi quirked an eyebrow at that, now very curious.
“I was going to call it a ‘Codpiece of Holding’, but remembered that they were worn on the outside of a man’s clothing. So, I named it the ‘Jockstrap of Holding’,” he said, a bitter tone entering his voice at the explanation.
Avi couldn’t help but burst out laughing. She laughed so hard that tears started rolling down her cheeks. It took a full six and a half minutes for the laughter to subside enough for Joram to continue without needing to raise his voice.
“So,” he began, his voice once again flat, but with icy undertones. “I did a bit of quick research, because I never had this sort of… problem before.”
“Could the Aneath clan just be more… vital than your old body?” She asked, trying very hard to be professional.
“No,” he said flatly. “My libido was considered high back on Earth. This seems… different. So, the research,” he said, vaguely motioning to a few Crystal Minds on his desk with his right hand.
“It seems as though people with draconic heritage are… much more vital than most other races out there,” he said, trying very hard to keep a straight face. “On a related note, those with phoenix bloodlines are usually more prone to more intense emotions and feelings.”
Avi blinked as the pieces fell into place.
“Are you saying that puberty will be especially hard for you?” She asked lightly, not quite looking him in the eye.
“I am saying that, the way things are going, it is going to take a supreme- nay- Divine levels of willpower to not singlehandedly revive the Aneath line.”