Chapter 117- Clarity (Patreon)

“No, you’re not coming,” Jiran shook his head as he finished pulling Olive from the formation tunnel.

“I must! It is my duty,” If Olive was discouraged by his statement or the sharp tone it was delivered in, she showed no signs of it.

“You’re wearing a dress, you’re tier four, and I haven’t had time to teach you how to improve your elements,” Jiran raised one finger at a time as he listed his points. Each one a blow that caused Olive to Wince before she rebounded with renewed enthusiasm.

“We aren’t at the wall yet, teach me now. And aren’t you the one that wanted me to join your party? Why would you say that and then leave me behind?”

“For exactly the same reason that I want to push you to tier seven. There’s no way you wouldn’t be a valuable asset then. We have no idea what tier of beast is responsible for poisoning the framework, so we’re only going to scout it out for now. You won’t miss anything by staying, and we’ll definitely be out there again tomorrow to cap everyone on EXP. Are you really so impatient that you can’t wait a single day?”

Jiran never would have expected Niya to throw her support in with Olive, but she did. “Let her come. You can’t know the future. What if the wards fail while we are gone and the Graymin rush through the walls? Madra is not so kind a mother that you can ensure everyone’s safety. At least if she’s with us, we can protect her,” Clearly, Olive wasn’t expecting the support either, judging by the widening of her mouth.

“Here, wear this,” Niya unstrapped her chest and back plates, handing them to Olive one at a time.

“I… Thank you, Niya,” Jiran could only shake his head with a sigh as the two worked together to quickly don the pieces of armor over her dress.

“All right, fine, I can see when I’m beat.” Jiran threw his hands in the air, “Niya, you better stay by her side the entire time. And here I thought I was the reckless one. We’re not going over the wall, though. I haven’t cleared out any of the rooks on this side of the city. Now, Olive, what’s your favorite element?

“Fire,” She said without hesitation, her bright blue eyes flashing in the fading daylight.

Hmm, how to tell her without revealing too much?

Jiran began walking toward the wall, leaving the girls scrambling to keep up while securing the last few straps of the armor. “What is fire to you, Olive?”

Olive’s eyes shone with a crazed light as she rushed to answer. “Heat, ash, and death. A raging inferno that sizzles flesh and eradicates moisture. Fire is the center of a volcano, molten metal flowing—”

“Okay, okay, that's enough,” Jiran patted the air, warding off her vehement speech. “Fire is none of those things. Those are all the result of heat interacting with the environment.” Her face scrunched, clearly confused so he tried a different approach, “When a tree burns, flame, smoke, and ash are the result. But are any of those things fire? What is really happening when the tree is consumed? Why is there ash, why doesn’t that burn into nothing right along with the tree? Why does it crackle and pop? Why are the flames orange and not green or purple? What is the smoke and where does it come from?”

Olive closed her eyes to focus, examining his questions piece by piece. Her brow furrowed as she sifted through long seasons of training for the answers she desperately wanted to prove she knew. “The flame is the fire; ash and smoke are what cannot be burned with such low heat. A higher heat would yield no ash or smoke.”

“Then why does a volcano throw smoke and ash into the air when it’s hot enough to melt metal?”

She blanched, her fists balling as conflicting emotions warred within her. “I don’t know.”

“That’s the right mindset. I don’t know the exact answer to that one either but I could guess. The point I’m trying to make is that the empire has a lot of preconceived notions about how things work. Based on some of the books I’ve read, those ideas are wildly inaccurate. You should assume you don’t know the answer because there is always more to learn, always a deeper truth. There is so much I don’t know, yet already my knowledge is dangerous to pass on, so I can only give you hints.”

Both girls hung on his every word; his aura noticed the goosebumps running up their arms as their anticipation reached a climax. “There are many kinds of fire. The fire that churns within First Mother and the Fathers is different from that of a volcano or a burning tree, or the heat of your hands when you rub them together. There is one thing they all have in common, though. One little truth that connects them deeply in ways I cannot explain: Heat is movement, brought about by change.”

He knew they wouldn’t understand so he gave them some examples. “When you burn a log, it is being torn apart into ash, flame, smoke, and heat. A change is happening inside the wood which causes it to tear apart. That tearing, or movement, is the fire. Everything else is just a reaction. Try to form a flame above your palm. Imagine you are forcing a change in the very air around your hand, ripping it apart, and that rending is what causes the heat.”

Olive nodded and held out her arm with her eyes closed. Jiran, realizing what was about to happen, leaped toward her, “Wait! Make sure you prote—”

A geyser of off-white flame erupted above her hand. Jiran’s coating, which was still covering his body, flared as the blistering heat washed over him. Niya shouted and leaped back, her arm coming up to shield her face. Olive fared worst of all. Her hand was a blackened stump and much of her hair had been burned off. What was left of her dress was pocked with holes that smoldered into widening, crimson circles.

“Restoration!” Jiran was there instantly, sending waves of soothing regeneration through her body to mend crisped flesh and restore her lost hair. Forming came next, turning a nearby house’s window shade into fabric to mend her ruined dress.

Olive stood stock-still, staring blankly at her charred hand as her fingers were regrown. She didn’t make a single sound despite the immense pain she must have faced. When Jiran stepped back, a small cough of black smoke escaped her mouth before she licked the taste of ash off her lips.

All that for only five percent of her mana. She could definitely kill an equal-tier beast with that attack. Should have told her to use less mana than usual. Guess we all need to learn that lesson the hard way once or twice, or twelve times.

“You should be safe to use that image with channeling. If you do have to use it with shaping again, make sure to blow the heat away from you with wind from your other hand or use less mana. That was a lot stronger than I was expecting. What happened?”

She had to swallow twice before being able to respond. “At level fifty molding I chose a subskill that increases the potency of my offensive mana. My technique just evolved to its third tier and gained twelve levels as well.” Her voice was a detached mumble as she steadily blinked while staring into the distance.

“I think you’re in shock, here.” Jiran placed his hand on her forehead and sent another bout of Restoration into her with no noticeable effect. “I’m not sure what exactly you did with your mental image to get that result, but you clearly went the right direction with it. Good Job, Olive. Are you okay to continue? I don’t know how much time we have before the wards fail,” Jiran checked the tablet which showed the weakened section still rapidly degrading.

"Give her a minute, ass. And while we're waiting, do the same for me but with rock, metal, or soil."

"Not interested in healing anymore? Fine, fine, no need to scowl at me. All three of those are pretty much the same thing, they only differ by how compact they are. So, harder, better, rock go smash." Jiran flashed a thumbs-up which elicited an angry growl.

"What kind of crap is that?! You gave her all those pointers and I get ‘Rock go smash?’"

Jiran chuckled as he knelt down and jabbed his hand into the street, parting the indurated cobbles as though they were soft mud. He scooped out a large rock and held it in the palm of his hand so Niya could get a good look.

Mana flowed into a Shaping that pulled apart the stone in an instant, leaving sand to trickle between his fingers where he cupped it in his aura. "Once a rock, now sand, or perhaps it was always sand." More Shaping formed the sand into a sphere that then turned back to solid stone. Jiran imagined pushing all the empty spaces out from between each molecule and the stone shrunk to the size of a needle head while retaining its original weight.

He tossed it to her and she snatched it out of the air with a shocked expression as she hefted the single grain. He watched, amused as she tried to break it with her own shaping before giving up and throwing it at the ground where it cracked another stone.

Jiran tapped his foot and pointed down. "Everything down there is all the same stuff, more or less. The only real difference between dirt, rock, and metal, is how the pieces are put together." Niya was no longer disappointed as she furrowed her brows at the ground. "We've delayed too long; if you're not ready, I’ll carry you." Olive shook her head and clenched her fists before setting off toward the wall with determined strides.

Her voice was no longer distant when she spoke. "The wall is designed so it can only be formable by royalty and officers residing within the city. Since I was part of the team assigned to the wards, I have the authority to use forming and make us a hole. I don't have enough mana for a large one though, so we'll have to crawl."

“Please, wait a moment!” A panting voice echoed from the battlements above. A man wearing standard legionnaire armor leaped over the railing, landing heavily between them and the wall. He banged his fist to his chest in a crisp salute. “Aloy! Lieutenant Higginess reporting, Sir, Ma’am’s. Please, allow me, your mana is too precious to waste on an exit.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Higginess,” Jiran gave the man a crisp nod.

“Of course, Sir! It’s my honor after what you’ve done for us. He glanced between Niya and Olive before swallowing nervously. “I, ah, that is… There are unused suits of armor in the station just there if it’s not too much of an imposition!” The man cringed, bracing for a blow that never came.

Jiran scooped them all up in his aura, much to Niya’s annoyance. He could tell she was about to argue with the man when his idea was clearly a good one. They arrived at the nearby unmanned station and the Lieutenant fumbled nervously with a ring of keys at the stone door. The building was stocked with racks of supplies, armor, and weapons. A back room held cots while a side office was set up for briefings.

“These sets should fit you, Ma’am,” Higginess pointed before ducking out of the way. Jiran joined him outside as Niya took her armor back from Olive and then helped her into a fresh set.

“You’ve been a big help, Lieutenant Higginess. Thanks again,” The man stood straighter, his lips pursing with repressed emotions that Jiran couldn’t begin to fathom. “Hey, any chance you know the soldier who was firing off flares for me earlier? They were a huge help, I’d love to buy them a drink, or at least get the chance to say thanks.”

“Yes, Sir. I know him well, you could say. I’ll pass on your message but I know he’d just insist on buying you a round instead. Maybe if you have time tomorrow night, we often meet at the Raporz Gazor. It’s not much, but it’s the only tavern still open in the city.”

“I’ll make it if I can,” Jiran promised.

“Are you sure you don’t need any armor as well?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Probably. Never worn armor before, I would likely make a mistake from the added weight.”

Their conversation was cut short as Olive and Niya joined them. Jiran didn’t grab Niya this time as they made their way back to the wall nearest the poisoned framework. The Lieutenant placed his hands on the solid stone and the gravely groan of shifting rock filled the air as a two-meter-tall portal opened. Jiran nodded respectfully at the helpful soldier while Niya gave him a quick thanks.

Olive reached into a pocket in her armor and produced a letter which she handed the man. “Please see this finds the hands of Duke Reihnhardt if we do not return. On second thought, do not wait, please deliver it straight away. Priority Dominus soriortus forvilius.”

Higginess snapped a powerful salute, his armor creaking in protest from the blow. He bowed fully in half, his voice firm. “By your will, My Princess,” Olive nodded and then raced to rejoin Jiran and Niya with a tight-lipped frown.

Jiran quirked a brow at her but she silently shook her head. Shrugging, he walked through ten meters of tunnel with solid city walls on either side and millions of tons of stone above. Upon exiting, the tunnel sealed itself back into solid stone behind them. A short distance away, Graymin on the far side of the wards turned frantic in their desire to rip them limb from limb. They thrashed against the wards, repelled each time, oblivious to the damage they took as they howled silently with bloodshot eyes.

Whips of Coating rose from Jiran’s skin to spear through the air toward the beasts but a stray thought had Jiran trying something new. Instead of straight spikes of mana, he allowed his coatings to flow along the threads of the framework. A dozen separate lines of mana raced along the web in zigzagging, sharply angled patterns.

Jiran’s heart skipped a beat as his experiment yielded far greater results than he would have imagined. His unaspected mana easily traveled double the furthest distance he had ever been able to control it. When it slammed into the Graymin, Mana Transference absorbed their mana in a heartbeat before bursting their chests from the inside. Olive recoiled from the unexpected explosions of gore, then swallowed audibly when she saw his wicked smile.

Jiran took a step forward, ready to kill the next beasts in line before stopping in his tracks, a sudden epiphany flooding his thoughts.

Wait, the framework can’t be made of density or mana. With my mana traveling along the threads, I should have absorbed them too when I used Mana Transference. But they're still there. Is the framework not actually made of density or mana? If not, what is it?

The single poisoned thread remained untouched nearby. The mystery at the end of it called him forward but he fought the desire. Something deep in his consciousness told him he was onto something vital, that if he could figure this out, many things would click into place. He had to know. Knowledge had brought him this far. Without it, he would be just another soldier, or more likely, dead.

"Hold on, I need a minute," He mumbled to the girls who both nodded.

Two dozen feelers of Coating flooded from his pores to run along the highways of the framework around him. He felt the vibrations through his aura as he observed his mana: Questing, probing, searching.

It’s not density or mana. It allows my mana to flow more easily along it. The poisoned thread is proof it can be used to carry skills or techniques over incredibly long distances. Aura and mana can interact with and use it, but not affect it directly. It's intangible, but solid. Argh! I’m so close! What am I missing? Is there anything else that affects mana like the framework does? Something that controls or touches mana… but is not affected in turn…

No way… Is it really that simple? Wait, does that mean that the papules used for channeling are the same?!

Molding: + 8

Channeling: + 7

CONGRATULATIONS: Molding has reached level 100

Molding threshold reached: Subsk—ERROR

Jiran’s notifications exploded into a plethora of flashing messages too numerous to read at once even with the aid of Triune Minds. Two in particular, strobed obnoxiously—alternating between scarlet and gold.

Sufficient authority qualifications detected

Prepare for imminent evolution