Chapter 101 - The Moment of Truth (Patreon)

Jiran’s mana poured through his cousin, Restoration flooding her cells with new life and supplying the vital energies needed to reform. He focused his mana on her organs and circulatory system, the rest would have to wait until he found a source of density to replenish his mana. He quickly tried adding her to his party so he could see her health but it didn’t work, which he assumed was because she was unconscious.

Coating probed every centimeter of her, flooding him with information that his enhanced brain deciphered at light speeds. Three stab wounds, not from a sharp knife or sword, but jagged, thick, like a hand shoved forcefully through her torso. Hundreds of bruises, several broken bones, and two recently regrown organs. He spotted other signs of hasty healing around her heart and lungs. That, along with her bottomed-out mana, led him to think she must have put her last bit of mana into healing herself before falling unconscious.

She healed her most critical organs while in this bad a shape? Looks like she became a damn good healer after all. She would probably survive without any help so long as she didn’t take any more damage.

Jiran took in the enormous damage, the sickeningly personal nature of the wounds, and began drowning in emotions. His promise to her, unkept. His desire to shelter her, unmet. Pride in her accomplishments. She had done it. She fulfilled her dreams and she did it without him. She was strong, and she was alive. His heart lurched and a thickness clogged his esophagus.

Pride won the conflicting battle within him and tears streamed down his face to fall upon her rising chest. With a single sniffle, he wiped away the moisture and stood. His prey was moving, struggling to break free, and distracting him once more from his purpose. He saw them for what felt like the first time, realizing one was actually a woman. All three were tier six. A man in black armor brought a jolt of recognition: Mark the Hiss. The others were unknown to him, though their gray robes matched the man who had stupidly teleported in front of him on his way here.

I haven’t had the time or spare mana to adjust my mental images yet. Luckily, they didn’t all die instantly. I have… questions.

Markhiss broke free first, his body turning red as channels brimming with elemental fire caressed the ice around him. When he melted enough ice to move, he vanished from his icy prison, swapping places with a shadow in the shape of a woman. A moment later, Jiran’s aura sensed space bending and flexing nearby. Jiran allowed Markhiss to teleport into the room from wherever he had gone after swapping places with the shadow.

“Impressive, as always. Jiran of Feylon,” Markhiss’s words came out in a girlish giggle, his body vibrating with anticipation strong enough to crack the stone floor.

Jiran pulled on his soul, his aura doubling in power before he pulled it inside. Before Markhiss realized Jiran was moving, his head slammed into the wall, Jiran’s fingers spread across his smiling face. The smile vanished when Jiran’s fist rocketed into his gut. The man folded in half and his eyes rolled up in his head. Jiran’s aura exploded outward. It wrapped around Markhiss, squeezing and compressing. A gasp was quickly followed by retching as Markhiss came to as suddenly as he had fainted. His mouth worked but no words came out, desperation fueling his struggles as he fought for space to move, to even breathe, within the confines of Jiran’s overbearing aura.

“Not… Me…” It was barely a whisper but Jiran heard him easily, trapped within his manabody as he was. The pressure lessened and air entered the man’s lungs in a gasping heave.

“Not you? If you didn’t do this to her? Then who? Them?” Jiran’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion as he nodded toward the other two in the room who still struggled to separate the ice from their flesh so they could teleport away.

Markhiss nodded rapidly, retching once more before looking up at Jiran with a weak smile that showed off bile-stained teeth. Jiran nearly heaved at the sight. Seeing Jiran hesitate, Markess pressed on quickly, “Protected… her. She begged… bring here.”

What the hell is going on here? I know he has a thing with lying, is he telling the truth? If he really protected her…

Jiran didn’t take his eyes off Markhiss, the blade of Coating covering his fist ready to end him in an instant as the man slowly recovered. Within a few seconds, he was breathing easier and sagged in Jiran’s aura, almost looking relaxed and no longer struggling in the slightest, “That’s right. I knew she belonged to you. I didn’t harm a hair on her head. She asked to come here and I brought her. Then these zealots got a little annoyed and attacked us, so I killed a few of them. Now, they won’t stop prattling on about this and that. I don’t understand why they’re so upset, it’s not like I stole their breakfast,” His eyes grew wide and he gasped as he looked up the only stairs leading out of the deep chamber. “Maybe I did kill the cook! Seven hounds of Faraday, did I steal their breakfast!?”

He’s insane. How has this lunatic not gone wild already? Can someone this far gone even have a sinister master plan?  Whatever, even if I knew for a fact that he can’t lie, there's no way in hell I can trust him. I should kill him and be done with it.

Jiran raised his hand, his Coating firm and unwavering. Just before he plunged his fist through the insane man’s head, a flash of memory struck him. Two hunters, standing between him and Mayalyn after they took her. Then those same men, standing between the children of the village and dozens of beasts after saving The People again and again in the tunnel they dug across half the island.

“I knooooow that looooook,” Markhiss interrupted his thoughts, “You’re wondering-wondering-wondering. It’s understandable, how could you know? It’s the truth that keeps me tethered, though it’s a narrow noose. You know I’ve killed, but how could you see? I cannot kill those who don’t deserve it, it would mean my instant end. Don’t you remember what my friends call me? Markhiss the Diviner. I can see their guilt, their sin.” Markhiss let go, fully entrusting himself into the embrace of Jiran’s aura. A soft hum seeped through his lips as the man’s eyes closed. “Do as you will, Truthbringer. If you wish to sever my ties to Madra, so be it. I am ready. Your judgment will surely be the truth that sets me free.”

I could do it, it would be so easy. He’s hurt, too, so it won’t count as a solo kill and restart my timer. But what if he’s telling the truth and he protected Niya, helped her. He might be the only reason she’s alive right now. As much as I hate this piece of garbage, I can’t just kill him until I at least know the truth.

Revolted, Jiran nearly released him. A muffled scream and a crack that sounded as though it were a kilometer underwater reverberated through the unfrozen section of the room. The woman, her skin blue and torn, teleported out of Jiran’s ice, arriving near the stairs. She gasped for breath with a hand on her knee and the other on the nearby wall. Shivers wracked her body as she met Jiran’s gaze with one gold and one blue eye, both blazing with fury.

“I cannot wait to watch you die choking on your own blood, heretic! Violating this temple is the last thing you will ever do!" She spat and Jiran felt her aura flex, though not to attack. She wrapped it tightly around herself as her fists rose and her knees settled into a fighting stance. Teeth, smeared crimson, peaked between cracked lips as she snarled. Jiran’s gaze locked onto her right hand which was coated in blood, the holes in Niya’s chest and stomach crystal clear in his memory. Seeing the woman’s bloody hand, he couldn’t help but imagine those fingers sliding into Niya.

His anger vanished, replaced with an emptiness. A void where emotions went to die. “You’re the one who hurt her?” He hooked his thumb toward Niya, each of his cousin’s shallow, strained breaths a stain on his soul.

“She’s not dead? Tough little bitch. I should have stabbed her a few more times while I had the chance. No matter, she won’t be breathing for much longer. You’re all about to die today, if not by my hand then b—”

Jiran’s compacted aura pushed his body and mana through her aura as easily as floating through space. The woman’s head fell slowly, tumbling through the air. Dirty blonde hair splayed out in the shape of a fan as confusion marred her once-beautiful features. Detached as he was, Jiran wondered if she even had time to realize what his blade of Coating had done. She hadn’t reacted at all to the increased speed from his state of Oneness.

A moment later, her headless body collapsed bonelessly to the stone floor. Jiran stood behind her, his hand on the wall. He had moved without thinking, though his body knew what to do. The body of a killer, evolved on the surface of a deadly planet, designed for slaughter, for dominance.

EXP: + 1

She’s dead? Just like that? Both her and Markhiss are so… weak. Am I really going to get challenger density from killing beasts at their level?

The hollow feeling from just before he killed her intensified, forming a pit in his stomach that sapped his energy and will.

What is this feeling? I’ve killed humans before. Is it because she was a woman? No, that’s not it. Some humans need to die. Lenton made that clear long ago and I don’t disagree. Ahh, that’s what it is. I’m sad for the empire, for humanity. We’re suffering defeat after defeat against the Graymin, and now we’ve lost one more strong warrior. A warrior idling around in a temple, trying to kill Niya, rather than protecting the empire. Why are there tier sixes here, instead of on the front lines?

He glanced through his ice at the massive stone door hanging open, a shining blue key in its center. Jiran shivered, feeling a cold within that had nothing to do with the freezing room and his misted breath. The last man still trapped within his ice was unconscious, having succumbed to lack of oxygen after his breath attack had been countered.

Markhiss’s whistle filled the silence. Jiran had released him to kill the woman, seeing the man laying on the floor with an ankle crossed over a knee, Jiran contemplated restraining him again. But as far as he knew, Markhiss hadn’t done anything to hurt Niya or him, yet. Even in their first encounter, when Jiran was a child, the man never actually hurt him. Sure, he had pressured Jiran with his aura but that was hardly a killing offense.

Markhiss placed a finger to his chin as he nodded with an appreciative frown. “I knew when we first met that you would become something special. But this? And you’re only tier five. Ahh, the truth prevails yet again. When will they learn? You'd think after killing so many, the survivors would figure it out.”

He thinks I’m tier five. So he can lie, so long as he doesn’t know the truth.

“Do you plan to attack Niya or me? Should I just kill you now so I don’t have to worry about you stabbing us in the back?”

Markhiss gasped, sitting up with a hand on his chest.

“I would never! Markhiss shouted before his voice instantly turned into a whisper while a shiver ran up his body, “You can’t see it like I can, you don’t understand. The truth clings to you like a cloak. You know things others cannot. You are free of the taint of lies. Have you ever told a lie?” He stood, leaning forward with shining eyes, “You’re so pure—beautiful. I would sooner die than hurt you or yours.”

Father’s, he’s so damn creepy. Ugh, I already decided not to kill him until I know for sure if he protected Niya. But what am I supposed to do with him? Yes, he's clearly dangerous, but isn't everyone? I can't just go killing anyone who might potentially be a threat before they actually do anything against the people I care about. But is he really like those two hunters who went on to save the entire tribe? Or will leaving him alive come back to haunt me?

Damnit, dealing with this guy is already giving me a headache.

“Why did you two come here? Why did you kill all of them?”

“Huh? Did you not believe me? You think I would l-l-lie? I already told you!” He shot to his feet and yelled, fury marring his features for a split second. “I can’t-lie-won’t-lie-don’t-lie-never-lie,” Markhiss's arms wrapped around himself as he mumbled.

"I was told you have some sinister plan and no matter what you say, you've killed too many for me to trust you," Jiran faced him fully, hardening his resolve.

Markhiss looked at him, confusion overwhelming his features, “I only want them to accept the truth. Like the truths hidden in this place. I must know them. I have to know, or I won't be able to control it."

I suppose killing everyone who lies is pretty sinister. Daughter didn’t say anything about him being diabolical so that’s probably all it is. As if that’s not bad enough.

After silently staring at Markhiss's panicked sincerity for several seconds, Jiran deflated with a sigh. "Fine," Jiran approached and grabbed Markhiss’s wrist, "Mana Transference."

Markhiss's eyes flew wide as the last vestiges of his mana were ripped from his body. Jiran expected more of a struggle from the higher-tier mana but it submitted to his call within the blink of an eye before nestling into his manapool.

There, he still has his aura but it's so much weaker than mine that he’s no threat now. Did his mana submit so easily because he already accepted my judgment, or because he’s so weak? I really need some time to get a handle on my new strength before I accidentally kill someone.

Jiran left the stupefied man alone and leaned over Niya's fetal form. He stroked her hair gently before shaking her shoulder. “Niya, wake up. Wake up!” She stirred, green eyes fluttered then snapped open as she pulled a rush of air into her lungs. Jiran barely perceived the flicker of motion that preceded her fist burrowing into his face. He was flung backward, though only a few feet, before he caught himself. She was on her feet before he stopped his momentum, using the wall as support while she coughed weakly.

“Geez, nice to see you too, little cousin,” Jiran smirked, his voice soft and soothing as memories of their last meeting surfaced. He tried adding her to his party again now that she was awake, breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing her health holding steady at nearly forty percent. Another indicator popped up next to her name, but he ignored it as she spoke while blinking repeatedly.

“What? J-Jiran? Is that really you?” Her eyes were wide as her voice turned vulnerable.

He approached slowly with his palms up, his smirk morphing into a wide smile. “Yeah, it’s really me. I, ahh, took a while getting back. Sorry about that.”

She scoffed, which started another round of coughing. A wracking hock brought a mass of blood and phlegm to the floor before she stood straighter and wiped her mouth with the back of a shattered vambrace. “Where did you go, why didn’t you come back?” Her jaw clenched and he noticed micro-tremors that shook her body from head to toe.

“I couldn’t. I’ll tell you all about it when we’re alone and safe. I wasn’t even awake for most of the time I was gone. I came back as soon as I could. My first thought was coming to find you and Micah but I was told it would be better to wait. That you might resent me if I came right away. That was about a moon ago,” Recognition flashed across her features as she considered the timing.

“Yeah, I would have been pissed if you came right after I risked everything to get this stupid key. You’re lucky I’m dry. I’ve wanted to bury my fist in your idiot face for a year. Now, you’re standing in front of me and I can barely lift my arm. What a farce.”

“Good to see you’re still cute when you’re mad,” Jiran closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing just tightly enough that she squirmed in pain from the broken bones he hadn’t healed yet.

“Stop, you bastard! You’re killing me!” She tried to push him away but didn’t have the strength.

Jiran eased his hug and her head fell to his shoulder. She was so solid, so alive in his arms. He found himself relaxing, his emotions bleeding back into normality as he finally acknowledged in his heart that she was safe. He whispered, not quite ready to release her. “I was really worried, you know? You did good healing yourself, you probably didn’t even need me to patch you up.”

“You did this? No wonder I feel like gelkshit. You’re a terrible healer.” He felt her smile as she leaned into him, exhaustion overwhelming stubbornness. He let her down on the floor slowly, standing beside her protectively. Jiran warily watched Markhiss move toward the massive stone door in the far wall and the impenetrable darkness it led to. He began chopping at Jiran’s ice, his fist brimming with condensed aura.

“We shouldn’t stay here long. One of these guys said something about a Duchess coming. She might be more than I can deal with, especially since I’m almost out of mana.”

Niya looked at the wall of ice and Markhiss’s abysmal attempts to get through it. Her eyes widened when she noticed the barely-conscious man trapped within. “One of them got away earlier, probably already to Morothin by now. How long was I out?” She spoke quietly, clearly still in pain.

“No clue, I’ve only been here a couple minutes. I ran into a tier six on the way here. Gray robes, stupid as a rock. Maybe he’s the one you’re talking about?” Niya nodded, a chuckle making her clutch at one of her broken ribs. Seeing her confirmation, Jiran continued. “Yeah, I doubt he’s made it anywhere just yet, I hit him pretty hard. Though, he’s definitely still alive so we should probably leave soon. Mind telling me what happened before I showed up? I’d like to know why all these people had to die, and I really want to know if Markhiss actually protected you like he said.”

Jiran’s tone lost its brevity as he turned to stare into her emerald green eyes—the same color that he saw looking back from his reflection every day. She broke contact first, looking at the floor with hunched shoulders.

“I… came here looking for you.”

“What? Why would you think I’d be here?”

“Two seasons ago, I paid a famous soothsayer in Skorahda to tell me how I could save someone. She said I needed to come here, specifically, that I needed to get into that room because I would find you and you would be able to help my… friend. I’ve been trying to get that key ever since. When I finally got it, this psychopath showed up and killed the people we were training to raid this temple. We were caught and my… partner sold me out to save his own ass, then ran off. After that, I explained why I needed to come here and he escorted me to find you,” She spat more phlegm on the floor as she stared daggers into Markhiss’s back. The man turned around with a smile and a little wave before resuming his work on the ice.

Jiran’s eyes bored into Markhiss back while Niya continued her story, “I was worried that if we found you, he might try to hurt you but he was so much stronger than me. I didn’t feel like I had a choice but to go along with whatever he wanted. He promised me that you two knew each other but he’s not exactly easy to trust with how damn nutty he is. Things were going fine until the idiots attacked him, he slaughtered them and dragged me down here. But there were three tier sixes protecting the door and when I tried to help, I got my ass kicked. Figures you would show up before I even needed to use that stupid fucking key. Soothsayer my ass,” Niya scowled.

“Who is this foul-mouthed miscreant? What happened to my adorable little cousin?” Jiran sighed wistfully and got a half-hearted kick to his shin for his trouble. Despite his joke, he didn’t smile, his mouth forming a hard line as he continued in a growl. “I was supposed to get to you yesterday. Because I was late, so many are dead.”

Niya shook her head, the motion making her cringe, “Nothing would have changed. The people I’ve been working with, they would have killed everyone in this temple or died trying. No matter what you and I did, these people were not long for Madra’s embrace.”

“What? Why? What’s so important that so many had to die?” Jiran didn’t try to keep the disgust out of his voice.

“No clue, some big secret the emperors are hiding. Never mattered to me. I had my own reasons for coming here and they never had anything to do with any secrets or what the group helping me was looking for.”

“Right. This friend of yours is hurt, and for whatever reason, that soothsayer said I was the only one who could help them?” Jiran wondered as Markhiss shouted with a triumphant cry as he broke through the last of the ice separating him from the huge circular door.

Markhiss stood before the black, gaping maw beyond with his hands on his hips. He released a burst of cackling, hollow laughter that bounced off the walls before speaking with childlike delight. “The moment of truth.” Before either of them thought to stop him, Markhiss took a single step forward and was consumed by the darkness. For a split second, Jiran saw a rainbow of glowing colors silhouette his form from within the gloom before he vanished completely.