Chapter 92 - A True Hero (Patreon)

Oliviala Le’Cruex

Hours passed and Olive still sat against the same tree. Her mind whirled with the devastating potential of what had been revealed to her. Every instinct in her body ached to flee from the enormity of this problem, to offload it onto one of her far more capable siblings, or better yet, her father. But how could she run and still call herself an Imperial Princess? What would happen the next time something came up? Would she be running forever if she did so now?

The death of the empire loomed heavily on her shoulders making her armor feel light as a feather in comparison.

Cameron was nearby, watching as second Father’s descent wrapped shadows around their new camp. She took comfort in his presence; her ever-faithful defender. In her mind, she once more saw the look of wonder and excitement on his face.

Even the oldest doctrines that have stood the test of time would not abide by what he offers.

Olive dipped her chin and crossed her arms before she spoke the founding hymn that she knew so well.

“Truth brings power. The Voice is truth, power is Voice. Without density, there is no life. Without the Voice, there is no life. The Voice brings life, the Voice takes life. Truth brings power.”

Clearly, there is power in Jiran’s truth. The Voice would not have given levels if it were not the truth. However, to say that density, and therefore the Voice, is unnatural; that it is foreign; is to say the life it brings and takes, the power it gives, and all its truths are somehow separate from reality.

That is… I cannot wrap my mind around it.

“Cameron,” She whispered and he came to her side a moment later.

“How many levels?” She could not swallow beyond the blockade in her throat.

“I’m at forty-two with molding now. I gained so many so quickly, I don’t remember how many I got from the last bit. Sorry,” His tone was gentler than she had heard since the death of his mother. The care he extended through it built pressure behind her eyes and threatened to send her into a sobbing mess.

So many. Is everything I know a lie?

“How could he come to such a twisted conclusion? It is a known fact that even a newborn babe has density within their body and its removal would mean certain and instant death. He claims to know that taking the density from a tree would not change it from a tree but how did he learn that? Not even father could completely remove the density from an object without destroying it.”

“You know I don’t care about the how or why. I’ll leave all that thinking crap for you smarty types. I just want to kill graymin. Once that’s done, we’ll have all the time on Madra to figure things out. C’mon, people are thinking up new stuff all the time and proving old stuff wrong, how is this any different?”

Olive snorted. She appreciated him trying to bring a little levity to her dour mood. The need to say the obvious, to relieve the pressure building in her chest, caused her words to spill out.

“You’ve only seen Palo and Loro from a distance. You haven’t heard the fervor in their voices. Those two have killed entire towns for far less than this. What Jiran is saying undermines everything they have taught for hundreds of years. It will destroy us far faster than the Graymin ever could.”

Cameron’s gauntleted hand landed on her shoulder, his grasp strong enough to flex her armor.

“Suddenly, I’m glad you’re the princess and not me, even if I am prettier than you. Try to get some sleep, tomorrow’s going to be a big day,” He gave her a wink and then left to rest near the crackling fire.

She let out a huff then blinked to look at her acclamation. Her guiding light, her connection to the Voice. It had led her here to face this catastrophe. Her, not anyone else. What could she do that others would not be more suited for?

Why me? I asked it to show me the path that leads to victory for the empire and it showed me Jiran. Did I misunderstand what it meant? Am I supposed to help him, or… kill him?

A spike of revulsion spread through her stomach at the thought.

That’s what the voicers would do. Palo and Loro wouldn’t hesitate for a second to end him and his heretical words. Master Filibree and father knew a year ago what he offered could destroy the empire. Surely they did, that’s why they searched so hard for him. Were they planning to silence him?

Revulsion morphed to anger, then to rage. Her jaw ached and she couldn’t trust that a single breath wouldn't unleash the flood of tears she had barely kept at bay. She held herself perfectly still, waiting for the emotions to pass.

I refuse to be like them. I’m not some mindless believer. Father taught me better than that. He taught me to believe but seek the answers from within. He showed me to never give word to my doubts but to push through them silently to—

Olive gasped as a realization set off a chain reaction of memories and thoughts that coalesced into a solid tapestry of understanding. She had been controlled. Everyone knew that Palo and Loro were out of willpower. That they could never ascend again. Each tier eleven beast Madra sent to challenge the emperors brought those two a little closer to snapping, a little closer to going wild. Every attribute gained, every percent of growth acquired, was a tick closer to doom. It was only a matter of time.

If those two turned wild, there would only be three emperors left to face two, fresh, tier eleven beasts. Maybe the three of them could beat one, maybe. But two? Never. There would be no survivors.

To not rock the boat, the other emperors, and their children, tiptoed around them. Audiences and encounters were kept to a minimum, discussions of faith were never an argument, always a submissive acquiescence. How better to make sure your children towed the line than to brainwash them with dogma.

What’s worse, teaching your child whatever the church wanted, or risk the annihilation of the empire?

That’s why Father sent me away. My acclimation was a risk he was unwilling to take. He was so insistent I form my own party and left me deep in the wilderness with only a single guard. He wanted me away from Cruex, in case I said something that might ‘rock the boat.’ He could tell I was growing more willful, more questioning, as my acclamation revealed truth after truth.

And now I’ve discovered the biggest truth of all. What am I supposed to do?! Jiran’s knowledge is what will save us but if it reaches the wrong ears, it could instantly end us all.

Absolutely not! They are wrong, they are unstable. Those two are the problem, not Jiran. He is the way forward, his method will bring about an age of growth and stability unlike anything we’ve ever seen.

Then there is Mayalyn and her people. That attack they used together, how much stronger would it become if they were a higher tier. It was as beautiful as it was impossible. A tier three and a tier four created an attack that rivaled a tier seven. A tier seven has 1280 in each attribute while a tier three and four combined have a measly 240… What could our two peoples do if we joined forces? What couldn’t we do?

She ran her fingers through her hair, her scalp was beginning to hurt from how many times she had harried it over the hours.

“Cameron!” She hissed, needing to talk to someone, anyone, about her revelation but the boy was already snoring by the fire. Jiran and Mayalyn had long since retired to their new burrow, she was alone.

How can I sleep now? I need to talk to someone!

She paced around the outskirts of the camp while pushing her mana through her body with Molding. Her thoughts danced as she felt what Jiran had lent her flow through her fingers. “I can do this, I have to do this,” She mumbled before sitting in the soft grass.

The solution is simple. I’ll keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t tell the wrong people. Meanwhile, I’ll learn everything he is willing to teach while figuring out ways to twist the words so they’re less of a shock to learn. Then, we’ll slowly release it to the most trusted people.

I will not let this chance slip through my fingers. Cameron has learned so much already, once we know more, will we be able to fight up a tier, too? Will the whole empire? If Dagris, Mesalay, and father can all fight up a tier, won’t our problems be solved? We can do this, there is a way forward.

She closed her eyes, thoughts of her father and the other emperors fighting side by side with the People, killing beasts of a higher tier, swirled in her imagination as darkness descended.

Olive did not sleep well.

Jiran of Feylon

Jiran woke up to the sounds of grunting exertion. After listening to the cousins the previous night, sleep had been elusive. His aura kept a decent watch while he slept, unobstructed by the darkness. It was not fear of betrayal that harried him, it was the wider implications of two emperors going wild and destroying everything he knew.

He sat up and yawned, a wave of Restoration with the intent to soothe and energize his brain did wonders for his lack of sleep, even if it wasn’t a good solution for long-term deprivation.

Cameron had drawn runes on the ground in a wide circle near their camp. He was moving through a more advanced workout regimen that Jiran had vaguely remembered Samris using a few times. Mayalyn was still sleeping, and Olive had finally succumbed to exhaustion.

Jiran didn’t disrupt Cameron as he left the camp. After a quick pit stop, he found a clearing nearby and activated Revelation.

“Father,” Dimples appeared on her cheeks, her features more defined than the last time they spoke.

“You keep changing.”

“As your understanding deepens, my power grows.”

“That makes sense. The other entity that was tracking me was Oliviala, right?”

“Yes, though her Daughter is not as conscious as I.”

Jiran cracked his neck, feeling some of his tension lift.

“That’s a relief. Any change with Niya?”

“No, she is still being hunted, but the trail she leaves is faint. Unless there is an unexpected change, their paths will converge in five days.”

“Who is hunting her?” Jiran’s anger seeped out through grit teeth.

“You know him as Markhiss.”

“That bastard!” Jiran fumed, his nails dug into his palms.

“Any idea what tier he is?”

“It is not easy for me to tell. I do not see things as you do. Likely six, perhaps seven, though I doubt it.”

“The same as the alphas. So I couldn’t beat him as I am.”

“No, but I believe you are faster than he is when flying. Your chances of helping her escape as you are now are not zero.”

“Very reassuring…”

“You’re welcome,” Her new dimples grew larger and her eyes, like miniature constellations, flashed with light.

“Any idea what my new quest name means? ‘I know his name’ is pretty ominous.”

“I do not know,” She shrugged, the movement as natural as any he had ever seen. “I have mana for one more question.”

Either I ask about the emperors being unstable, or the best way to keep Mayalyn safe while I’m in the arena.

The second he formed the thought, the answer became obvious.

“Any suggestions for keeping Mayalyn safe while I’m in the arena?”

“Your new companions would die to protect her, she will be as safe with them as it is possible for her to be. Goodbye, Father,” The shifting stars that comprised her body spread until they vanished into nothingness.

A tingling wave of emotion started in his chest and prickled its way down his arms and legs before constricting his throat. He took a deep, ragged breath through his nose.

They would die for her? I know Cameron is under oath to protect her, and Olive has her own reasons, like adding a powerful force to the empire. But still, for both of them to be willing to go that far. I had no idea.

Jiran took his time processing the swell of emotions that attempted to paralyze his diaphragm. When they were finally under control, he flew back to the camp and ate a few left-over bites of dinner before approaching Cameron.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Sure, I'm only missing a few attributes now. Having someone to spar with would definitely speed up the process.”

“Why not just go fight a few more beasts?”

“Because I’m not suicidal?! Only a beast with equivalent or higher attributes would give me any decent gains. What kind of idiot would throw themselves into that sort of fight for a few quick attributes when they could just do a little training? Besides, learning to move your body and use your abilities just makes you stronger in the long run. How in the inferno’s asshole did you get so powerful while being so stupid?”

Is that how it works? It’s based off attributes? I guess I’ve always fought beasts at my tier or higher so I just never noticed. Oh well, live and learn.

Cameron motioned for him to enter the circle of runes. When Jiran stepped over the lines he felt a strong pressure push down on him before the extra weight was spread across his manabody.

“Gravity increasing formation?” He wondered aloud as he studied the simple lines that stretched around the outermost layer of the circle.

Jiran spread his aura out but stopped it from relieving the extra weight. His muscles strained and he felt a little thrill of anticipation shoot through him. He hadn’t had a good spar since the last time he saw Niya.

This is a perfect chance to get used to my new point in concentration. Hopefully, I can power this formation after they’re gone. I’ve still got two more points coming this tier and I’m not going to have a lot of time to train with them before the arena.

“You don’t know the basic formations? You weren’t kidding. They really didn’t teach you anything, did they?” Cameron raised his hammer as he took a defensive, two-handed stance.

“I wasn’t with them very long, they didn’t really have a chance,” Jiran raised his hands, for the first time in a long while wishing he had a weapon.

“Seriously, bare-handed? If this isn’t a challenge, I won’t gain anything.”

All right then.

Jiran formed a Coating that stretched into the shape of a long blade. The mana was transparent, so he filled it with a slow burning fire that Cameron could clearly see. He swung the blade experimentally, cutting through the ground like it wasn’t there. He softened the invisible edges so it wouldn’t be lethal before meeting the teen’s eyes.

“Better?”

“Uhh, woah. H-how long can you make that thing?” His eyes were glued to the fire swirling out of Jiran’s hands.

Just for fun, Jiran expanded the Coating until it was three meters tall. The greatsword-shaped flame flickered in the predawn darkness like a beacon. Cameron clicked his tongue before charging.

“Your sword may be big, but you lack the spiky hair of a true hero!”

Cameron’s hammer flew forward and met Jiran’s blade in a probing strike. Metal clanged on hardened coating and Cameron smiled as the blade retracted to a manageable size. Jiran’s return swing was ducked, then Cameron stuck out his arm and was pulled to the side by what Jiran could only assume was Forcing.

As if the hammer had a will of its own, it changed directions to fly toward Jiran’s side. He smoothly pivoted, blocking the strike with a portion of the blade just above his hands. The moment he absorbed the impact, he thrust toward Cameron’s chest with all his speed.

The noble turned to the side and leaned back slightly, allowing the blade to pass by harmlessly before his arm, once more controlled with Forcing, sent his hammer in an unnatural arc right toward Jiran’s face. Jiran activated his own Forcing, pulling his head down beneath the blow. He pivoted on one leg and as his body swung around, his other leg extended in a hook kick aimed at Cameron’s chest.

The boy leaped back, his grin vanishing a second later as another blade of Coating sprung from Jiran’s foot and crashed into his armor. An undignified, gurgling grunt was forced from Cameron’s mouth as the solid hit sent him sprawling.

He leaped to his feet and pointed at Jiran with his free hand.

“What in the scholar’s fatty buttocks was that? How many techniques can you use at the same time? Was that five? You’re a dirty cheater,” Despite his grumbling, he was showing off pearly white teeth as he charged once more.