Chapter 196 - The Dog House (Patreon)

“D-did I forget to mention that?” Jiran mumbled while avoiding Mayalyn’s piercing gaze, “I thought I told you about the Forkara, Eldest Unspeakable. He was also low on willpower. We tried to remove one of his skills but his aura was too strong.”

Mayalyn’s jaw fell open and she stared at him in aghast silence for several long seconds before snapping, her tone brooking no argument, “Privacy, now!”

Jiran had no intention of arguing, realizing he had upset her far more than he ever had before. Enthralling Touch drained what was left of Markhiss’ mana even as Jiran roughly grabbed and stuffed the crazy bastard’s aura inside his body. Almost noticing his mistake too late, he stopped just short of completely compacting Markhiss’ aura inside of his skin.

If he's already crazy, wouldn’t forcing him to confront his demons end in disaster? It should be plenty to restrict his movements while I talk to Mayalyn.

Jiran blocked sound and then used Elemental Castigation to obscure them from sight. Before he could even nod to her that he was done, she grabbed his armor by the neckline and pulled him to the side. Because her foot lashed out, preventing him from sidestepping to stabilize, he teetered off balance and fell onto his back. Halfway to the ground, she hopped into the air and landed straddling his chest, temporarily knocking the air from his lungs.

She leaned down and screamed in his face, “How could you try that without me?! Did you forget about what happened last time? I cannot believe you would be so reckless!”

Jiran was unable to even utter a complaint as she lifted him by his armor and slammed him into the soft sand with each sentence, “I can swallow the fear of you dying while fighting. It kills me inside when you go off alone to ascend, but I accept that as well. Even when you experiment with your skills, creating these formations that could kill us both in an instant—” Her voice broke as tears slid down her face to splash against his chest, “But how could… you threaten everything we have… for something so foolish? Why… did you not wait for me? Why?! Do I mean so little to you? Do you not realize how I would feel if something happened to you? How much… I would… cry?”

Her tears turned into an absolute flood and all Jiran could think to do was wrap his arms around her and pull her into his chest. He made soft, comforting noises until she was coherent enough to listen, “You’re more important to me than I could possibly express with words. I promise, no, I swear to never try that again without you. I didn't know how strongly you felt about this since we never talked about it after Shara. That, and I… honestly forgot how strong the desire to eat her skill was. Or that consuming it would have done something weird to me. This excuse sounds lame in my head before I even say it: I think my instinctual desire to eat one caused me to forget…”

Mayalyn pushed out of his embrace to sit cross-legged on top of him. She scrubbed at her cheeks before searching his expression. After breathing deeply to taste his aura, she shook her head, “This is not only about the threat of you eating skills. You do so many things that are dangerous, why must you add to that number without thought or preparation?” By this point, the energy had drained from her. She sat atop him, her back bent and her shoulders drooped.

She’s barely holding it together. I spent an entire day with her and I didn't notice a thing. She must not have wanted me to worry. She’s been smiling all this time, for me.

Jiran suddenly sat up and Mayalyn’s eyes flew wide as she began to fall backward. He caught her long before she could catch herself and crushed her back into his chest, “You’re amazing. You’re so brave that it’s easy to forget how difficult all of this must be for you. I’ll do better. You’re absolutely right that Madra is dangerous enough already without my thoughtlessness making things worse.”

Mayalyn finally hugged him back. She burrowed her face into his neck and bit him hard enough to elicit a yelp before she pulled back and met his gaze, “It is good that I can feel your sincerity, or I truly would beat you until there was not a centimeter of your body free of bruises!”

“Okay,” Jiran nodded, accepting his punishment wholeheartedly if she chose to administer it. After all, she was one hundred percent correct; he really had tried to remove a skill from Eldest without a single thought of the consequences to himself and her, and that fact made him sick to his stomach. “You’ve helped me stabilize my emotions so many times, if that’s what it takes to return the favor, then my body is yours to use as you see fit!” He threw his arms wide and closed his eyes at the sky.

She grunted a laugh that forced the corners of his lips upwards against his will. After once more leaning in to nip at his skin, she hopped off and pulled him to his feet, “I do feel a little better now, but I believe I will need another… treatment after we hear what this man has come to say,” Her voice turned from a purl into a growl in record time, “Do not attempt to hinder me when I intercept the skill, assuming you are successful in removing it.”

“You have my word,” Jiran’s tone and will were tempered steel as he swore with all his heart. He then dropped the sound and sight blockers, revealing that Markhiss was still prostrate with his forehead touching the sand. “Choose a skill or technique you can do without.”

Jiran’s demand was met with confusion, which was no surprise. He continued before Markhis could question his intent, “Close your eyes and look through your skills and techniques. Pick one you can live without. Don’t ask, just do it.”

Markhiss closed his eyes and searched through his status. Upon looking at Jiran again, he took a deep breath and firmed his resolve before disobeying the first order he had been given, “I-if I’m going to be your tool, should you not choose for me? What if I pick something that makes me unable to serve you?”

There isn’t much he can get rid of that I can’t circumvent with a formation. We might as well go with the last learned skill as it likely costs the most willpower. If this works, I’ll make him some glasses with Mana Omnis or something.

Jiran fed Markhiss some mana so he would be able to locate the skill crystal, “Use Mana Sight until I tell you to stop. I’m going to be taking control of your aura. I’ll say it one more time, completely submit to me, don’t fight back, don’t even think about resisting. No matter what happens, stay calm, understand?”

“I submit! Upon my death and eternal severance from the Voice, I vow to never betray you!”

Can’t say I expected him to swear on the Voice. Didn’t know he was religious. His affinity is maxed out at Fervent so he probably really means it, too. Well, here goes nothing.

Jiran nodded to Mayalyn who bent her knees and raised her hands like she was planning to tackle one of them. After how mad she had been, he honestly wasn’t sure which of them was going to be her victim. Jiran put her from his minds to focus. He experimentally bent and contorted Markhiss’ aura, getting the man used to the feeling.

While still controlling both of their auras, Jiran roughly pressed in on Markhiss from all sides, completely encasing and trapping him. There were no signs of resistance, even his breathing stilled to a bare fraction of normal as every muscle in his body loosened.

One of his minds remained vigilant, blocking sound and sight around all three of them while the rest formed a delicate hand made of aura. He condensed Markhiss’ aura inside the hand and pushed them both into his manapool until they surrounded the glowing skill. Jiran snaked his mana through both of their auras, tainting the energy with their soul-stuff so that it was capable of physically interacting with the skill. He then gripped it tightly and pulled.

The skill came free and slid through his flesh into the open air so easily that Jiran was momentarily stunned. Mayalyn however, was not. She zipped past them in a flash, leaving behind a trail of crackling currents. By the time his eyes caught up to her, she was facing him from several meters away, the skill crystal nowhere to be seen.

“Thank you, for protecting me,” Jiran managed to mumble, stunned for the umpteenth time at how fast she could be when she allowed her body to nearly become the very lightning she had absorbed.

Seeing he was fine, she padded back to his side, “Of course, my Aajiran.” They shared a look while Mana Confluence patched up the tiny hole in Markhiss’ chest.

“Confirm in your status that the skill is gone,” Jiran commanded.

Markhiss closed his eyes and sucked air through his teeth, “It… is gone.”

“How do you feel? Are you still… crazy?” Jiran questioned.

Markhiss shook his head, “I don't hear the voices. But I didn’t hear them the last time we were together either.”

Jiran had unwillingly mused over this issue during a restless night several days before, “I think that was the temple, not me. It makes sense for that ancient tablet to have some kind of emotional stabilizer so people could more safely lock themselves in there for years at a time.”

Markhiss’ mouth formed an O before he responded, “If that is the case, then it is possible you have truly healed my insanity. I… need more time to know for sure. My… head still aches like a tooth freshly pulled. I can feel the speakers, but I cannot hear their voices.”

“Alright, that’s a little creepy. Well, for now, can you tell me what you came here to say?”

“Yes! Certainly, Master.” Jiran groaned at the moniker but didn’t correct him. After all, it was better than some of the other things he’d been called lately and it was absolutely several steps up from, ‘Truthbringer!’ “I have recently intercepted many assassins employed by both Silence and the Church of the Voice. Their purpose was to halt reinforcements from reaching Melathon and contributing to this battle.”

Jiran’s head snapped to Mayalyn who nodded gravely, “What? The church sent assassins to stop Imperial soldiers?! Why?”

“They do not wish for the empire to win this battle. Their plan is to somehow escape the empire after ensuring the Graymin succeed in crippling the army.”

Jiran’s heart was hammering as he put the pieces of the puzzle together in a flash. The warnings from Vironia and Lostrifar, the cryptic questions from Pharish, and the auras that spied on his every move. Even the emperors had hinted that there were events and schemes happening across the empire that they could not predict. Now that he knew their plan was to leave the empire, and since there was only one known way to do so, everything made sense.

He turned to Mayalyn and rested his hand on her shoulder comfortingly, “My love, you’re a fucking genius.”

Ardon Le’Cruex

Ardon and his four oldest, most trusted friends arrived at the cave entrance which supposedly led to the People’s Cavern. He had been surprised when his father instructed that they come to protect this place over participating in the battle against the King. A small, cowardly voice deep in his heart screamed the emperor’s praises even as the rest of him was revolted by the betrayal he was being forced to commit. But above all else, he was a soldier and a soldier's duty was to his empire, not his own desires.

His party—The Glorious—was right behind him as he descended a kilometer into the ground. The tunnel opened into a rather large cave with running water and several dozen hovels that looked recently occupied. His aura spread out, reaching every nook and cranny to reveal the destitute conditions these people had suffered. Immediately, he was furious at Olive for allowing their guests to live like this for even a day.

“I thought this place was supposed to be occupied? Where are they?” Kitchell, their tanker, questioned with a confused frown.

Suddenly, a cacophonous ripping split the air as the walls and floor shook. The party was unaffected, safely suspended in their auras as always. The entire ceiling of the cavern was split and torn free as though a massive pair of hands had plunged deep into the ground and ripped it away. Bright sunslight shone down into the pit, blinding them.

Mana Sight was unaffected by the time needed for pupils to dilate. The party stared straight upward, pinpointing the uninvited guests. None of Ardon’s people made a move, instead preparing countermeasures engrained over tens of centuries of teamwork.

A voice that both boomed with authority and slithered like an oiled merchant filled their ears, “I expected to find a hive of skaks, but you, my prince, are a much more appealing catch indeed.”

Sweat broke out across Ardon’s skin when the completely unknown speaker's words came fast enough that he could only barely follow them, proving their tiers were a match. For there to be a tier nine in all the empire he was unfamiliar with was bad enough, but worse still, there were eight figures floating beside the speaker, each of them exuding a presence no weaker than his.