Chapter 119- Not What You Think (Patreon)

[Graymin Rook - Enforcer (Tier 7) ????/????]

Jiran fully acknowledged the blaring of foresight as the beast emerged; meanwhile a small, calculating part of his brain cataloged the synapses of the framework quivering in response to his use of Identify.

Identify: + 5

He ignored the notification and its implications as he leaped forward. He pulled his aura into himself, all of its considerable strength dedicated to the singular task of increasing the speed of his body hurtling through the air. Ten percent of his mana was drained in a casual flick of his hand behind him. A crystalline dome of ice materialized around Niya and Olive, barely forming in time to block the tier seven’s first strike.

It had fully emerged from the rent in the ground. Its towering form a match for the nearby buildings. With eyes locked on Jiran, two massive, plated hands, glowed furiously with mana. They came together in a rupturous clap, sending a purple wave of force outward to shatter the air like glass, instantly annihilating the nearest Corruptor.

Jiran threw himself to the side with Forcing and aura, his arms crossing before his face. His body was encased in a layer of his thickest, most mana-intensive Coating as he rode the wave of cataclysmic destruction. His coating failed, organs ruptured, and skin flayed. If not for his head having a double layer of protection, his brain and eyes would have burst from that first attack. The wave didn’t stop after brushing Jiran aside. It slammed into the dome of ice, causing fractures to proliferate across its surface and shredding the muted cloak of silence that draped across the ruined town.

“Restoration!” Organs regenerated and bones re-knit as healing mana washed through Jiran. His skin was still burnt and cracked, especially on his forearms where he had shielded his head. A vicious snarl tore from his mouth as he pointed his palm at the Enforcer. His fully charged channel erupted with luminous violence that jettisoned from his skin. A solid beam of light sliced through three of the knights before raking across the Enforcer’s shoulder, causing scaled hide to bubble and smoke, though failing to cut through.

Yes! I can hurt it! I need to get it away from the girls, there’s no way they can handle its attacks.

In an instant, the monstrosity arrived before Jiran, having moved without moving. Time slowed as his eyes widened in shock, the beast’s fist inching toward his face. Jiran pushed with everything he had. Aura, Forcing, mana, and muscle, all came together, united in a singular purpose: Survival. He slid under its arm, which was thankfully not charged with another wave of annihilating mana. He blasted back toward the group of knights who were charging toward his ice prison and the two vulnerable women within.

He landed in the middle of the knights, easily dodging their rushed swipes and bites. Compared to the tier seven’s movements, these beasts might as well have been standing still. The real threat was hot on his heels, apparently unable to teleport again so quickly. When it caught up, its fists were glowing once more. They slammed into the ground, obliterating everything in a three-meter radius.

Jiran’s snarl turned to a feral grin as a dozen knights died instantly and the rest were left heavily injured. He jumped away, curled into a ball, and wrapped himself in a layer of ice and two layers of Coating. Only the final layer of coating survived the initial attack but it too cracked and flaked away as he was blasted through a building. The beast gave chase, blowing what was left of the building to nothing as Jiran used his existing momentum along with an ignition of hydrogen and oxygen to rocket even faster out of the town.

Good luck, Niya. I’m losing mana too quickly to bring it back in there to kill the rest of those tier fives for you. You two better not die on me!

The Enforcer ignored the blue flames jettisoning from Jiran’s feet as it closed the distance between them with blinking, thunderous strides. An eternity of two seconds passed before Jiran’s channel was charged again. He cut the flames, spun to face the towering monster, and unleashed a point-blank ray of concentrated elemental light. Without a few lower-tier beasts to weaken his attack, it sliced through scales and flesh with equal ease, cutting deep into its thigh and nearly severing one of its legs.

It crashed to the ground, creating a wide furrow through the filth and giving Jiran his first real reprieve since the fight began. A dozen tentacles of Coating snaked into the wound, attempting to burrow through its waist and chest to sup on the powerful mana within. Jiran felt like his mana was trying to tear through reinforced steel. For the first time since discovering Mana Siphon, he found himself crashing against an unwavering membrane that he could not pierce.

He gave up trying to burrow into the beast’s manapool and instead focused on the mana flooding through its flesh. The mana was incredibly compact, heavy, and unyielding. He barely managed to drain enough to refill his manapool amidst the tsunami that poured forth to regenerate the damaged limb. He wasted two precious seconds to bring himself back to full while the creature's body reformed. For a fight at their level of perception, each second felt like thirty, giving Jiran plenty of time to decide how to spend his recharged mana.

He lifted his hands above his head, phantom forms of glistening frost wrapped around his flesh before extending into massive arms that blotted out the sky. Far more mana than Jiran could safely handle raced through his channels and shredded through his skin. Laced with intent, it latched onto the framework to enact his will. The limbs descended with glacial finality, far too slow to connect with the speedy Enforcer, now fully healed.

Jiran screamed, reaching deep into his soul to bring forth the full might of his aura. The air quaked and the ground was sundered, sinking into itself in an ever-widening crater as aura found leverage against the synapses of the framework. Jiran pushed, applying more and more pressure to pin the creature long enough for his attack to land.

Despite his best efforts, the beast lifted its head. Hateful red eyes glowed with malice through air that oscillated like a heatwave under the inconceivable pressure. Blood flowed freely from Jiran’s nose as his brain seized in agony. His scream turned to a guttural moan as a clawed hand lifted and found purchase. A shoulder followed, then its chest and another arm as the beast slowly pulled itself up.

Its mouth opened, though not to match Jiran’s shouting. A sickly green mist swept out, ignoring the pressure from his aura as it danced through the air toward him. True Origin of Wind blasted from Jiran’s mouth, pushing the mist away but not before a few motes landed on his leg. The attack melted through protective Coating and flesh with equal ease, bringing a suffering that nearly stole his focus.

The attack was cut short as two pillars of ice blasted down from the heavens. The concussive force immediately flattened the beast, smashing its open mouth into the ground. Everything within twenty meters of the impact turned to arctic crystal. The Enforcer shuddered within, its huge body thrashing against the tomb.

Jiran convulsed, caught up in a head-to-toe seizure as his body suffered the backlash of using ninety percent of his mana in a single attack. His arms were completely frozen, flesh blackened and dead from the near-absolute-zero ice they had wielded. Aura clamped around him, holding him still and forcing his eyes back to the beast. He dared not spend that last ten percent healing himself until he knew the battle was over.

Five tense seconds passed as Jiran and the beast stared at each other through beautifully refracting layers of steaming ice. When it failed to break free, and no kill notification came, Jiran nearly fell to his knees in relief. Instead, he launched himself back toward Olive and Niya while praying his ice would hold long enough for them to finish what needed to be done.

True Origin of Ice + 2

The sudden acceleration caused a spike of anguish to tear up from his leg and he nearly lost consciousness. He looked down, finding everything below his left knee was gone. Bright green moss covered the stump of his leg, rapidly climbing higher as it ate the flesh in its path. Jiran pooled enough aura inside his leg to see how far the acidic infection had spread. He clamped off its advance, then blasted fire from his mouth, annihilating his own flesh and the final motes of the Enforcer’s last-ditch attack. His vision turned white from the pain. A fraction of a percent of his mana flowed into Restoration to numb his brain so he could focus as he blasted through the air once more.

He arrived back in the town to find that Niya had copied his idea. Walls of thick soil and ice surrounded them so only two knights could fight her at a time. Her punches and kicks tore through the thick atmosphere with blistering speed, throwing the beasts away amidst deafening sonic booms. But there was always another to take their place. While he had been dealing with the Enforcer, another dozen of the tier fives had appeared from the ground and more came out with each passing second.

Olive stood behind her, sword glowing red-hot as it snaked past Niya’s solid defense to bite into the higher-tier beasts. Each time she struck, a gout of flame would ignite limbs or incinerate sensitive eyes, wounding but failing to deal critical damage. Her teeth shone crimson, bared in a silent rictus of pain and perseverance. One of her arms was gone, the gaping wound shooting gouts of blood across the ice at her side. The scent of her fresh blood drove the Graymin into a wild frenzy and they desperately tried to dart past Niya to get at the princess.

As Jiran sped to them at breakneck speed, he spotted a flash of light reflecting off metal nearby. One of the beasts was munching away at Olive’s severed limb, tearing and chewing metal as easily as the delicate meat beneath.

Jiran didn’t realize he had changed directions until he appeared before the monster. An enraged scream laced with mana and deadly intent tore from his mouth. Molecules churned into motion too extreme to remain dormant, causing the Graymin to explode into slag even as its body was pierced six times by thick spikes of Coating that sucked it dry.

Madness corrupted his vision. He saw the remaining knights, swimming through the sea of scarlet fury pouring from his mouth. A blazing flash flood of magma swept across them, soaking their forms and turning them into bubbling pools of smoking death. Lances of Coating spread across the webs of the framework, spearing and draining the beasts faster than they could pull themselves from the tear in the ground.

When the last pulled itself free and died, sacrificing its mana to him, Jiran heaved a ratcheting breath that tore strangely at his injuries. A distant part of his consciousness reminded him he had sealed his brain's ability to perceive pain. Detached and confused, he pushed energy into his unresponsive arms, only then remembering he should use his technique.

Restoration poured through him, replacing lost blood and sealing the worst of his wounds. As the seal in his brain was released, some semblance of clarity returned to pull him back from the brink of insanity. A guttural need to return to the frenzy of violence tore at his soul but he pushed it down with a snarl. Another deep breath filled him with oxygen, bringing further lucidity.

What the fuck was that?! She’s going to be fine. It’s just an arm. With Niya and me around, we’ll have Olive back to normal in no time. Why did I—

Olive collapsing nearby caused Jiran to snap from his ruminations. Niya swiftly turned to send waves of healing mana into her while Jiran focused on fully healing just his right arm. He would need it for what was to come. The moment it was functional, his channel thrummed with elemental fire that he unleashed upon one of the four remaining Graymin Corruptors. True to their description, the beast was practically defenseless as it burned to nothing.

Jiran sighed in relief as the poisoned synapse of framework attached to the beast instantly cleansed when its influence was severed. He moved to the next Corruptor, making sure to drain its mana as he scorched the helpless creature.

Their specialized physiology can’t possibly be an accident. What kind of race can design themselves to fill specific roles like this? And what the hell happened to me? I’ve never lost control of myself like that before. Is there something wrong with me or did I accidentally break something when I cut off my pain?

When the last of the corrupters died, Jiran confirmed the framework was clean before he scooped up the girls and hastened back to Mortan. His senses were trained in the direction he left the Enforcer, nervous sweat pouring down his back even as he slowed their pace. He covered them in a bubble of Light Manipulation long before they were surrounded by the Graymin horde once more.

Olive was still unconscious, though patched up enough that she was no longer bleeding to death. Niya reclined against his aura, eyes closed in exhaustion. Every minute that passed Jiran expected the tier seven to come barreling through the army on a mad quest to finish them off. He maintained their slow stealthy pace regardless, hoping that when it did escape, it would fail to find them. Besides, they were in no shape to hold off the pawns if a rook blasted his aura.

His gamble paid off. The beast never showed and no rook spotted them through his obfuscation. Within thirty minutes, his aura pushed the last of the pawns aside and they were safely behind the wards once more. Threads snaked out, spearing Graymin and draining them one after another as Jiran checked the countdown for his newest skill choice.

Selection will become permanent in 45:17

Not much time left and I need answers. Healing will have to wait. Revelation!

Niya gasped as Daughter stepped out of the ether and appeared before them. Not a phantom of starry dust and swirling cosmos any longer. She looked as solid and real as any young woman as she burst into existence. She immediately threw her arms around Jiran, an excited squeal bubbling from her lips.

“Father! Look, look! You did it!” Wild chestnut hair cascaded around them as she hugged him tighter. Jiran cringed from the pain of his unhealed arm and leg being jostled. He gently pushed her back by the shoulder, noticing her all-too-human rosy complexion and the solidness of her form. She was even wearing clothes; a loose-fitting tee beneath a jean jacket and cut-off shorts.

“What the hell?” Jiran mumbled, his features skewing in incomprehension.

She giggled excitedly, her smile bursting with joy. “Isn’t this great? Look at me, I feel so amazing. Your choice of clothes is so interesting, too! A little strange, but I love it.” She twirled in a circle with her arms outstretched.

“What? My choice? No, I mean, yes. You look great but…" Jiran blinked a couple times to clear his confusion before focusing on what was important. "We’re short on time, Daughter. I need your help.”

She sobered instantly, her eyes flashing with the ageless wisdom he was familiar with.

“I understand. And don’t worry, I’ve only allowed the two of you to see and hear me. With your advancement in molding, your authority increased, lifting several of the edicts binding me.”

“Okay, but what abo—”

“Shh,” She silenced him with a finger before continuing. “There is much I must say before we are out of time. No questions! The evolutions offered are not as simple as you believe. But before I explain them, I must tell you about your willpower.” Jiran nodded with furrowed brows but didn’t interrupt her again.

“You know that each individual only has so much willpower before they become wild. With each ascension, that willpower is burned as fuel to empower the tiering. What you don’t know—and what I can now tell you—is that each skill, subskill, technique, and especially your acclamations, all consume willpower as well.” Jiran’s eyes flew open and Niya’s jaw dropped. Daughter pressed on, each word furrowing wide the gaping pit in his stomach. “Worse still, your ascensions have been particularly taxing due to the nature of your… challenging advancement. You are out of willpower, Father.”

Is that what happened to me? Is that what Markhiss has to deal with every day? The two emperors as well. Fathers above, that’s terrifying. How long has this been affecting me? Are there other signs I missed before I completely lost control?

Jiran stumbled away from Daughter, momentarily forgetting to replace his missing leg with aura. Devastation seized the breath in his chest as a flood of emotions sent heat coursing through his skin. He slowly shook his head in denial. Niya struggled to her feet, her mouth opening to speak but no sound came out. Daughter scowled at her, a dangerous aura leaking from her petite form for a fraction of a moment. Niya jerked back, her teeth clicking shut before she gulped nervously, no longer willing to interrupt. Daughter’s attention shifted back to Jiran and she held her breath, waiting.

No! I’m not done! I refuse to give up. I’ll purge my techniques and acclamations if I have to. I don’t need them. Just mana. I’ll give up anything but that and I’m not going to stop ascending. I’ll find a way, no matter how long it takes.

Daughter’s intense observation morphed into a wide smile showing brilliant, white teeth. “Fear not, Father. This eventuality was accounted for eons ago. As a champion of Madra, your path forward will only be sealed if you choose to stop pressing forward, to die. You have the solution already, you only need make the choice. Now, the evolutions, read them again.” The last was said in a whispered purr, her eyes twinkling with barely repressed excitement.

Jiran nodded, bringing up the still-flashing messages once more.

Solophid: An abundance of Will to harvest the gifts of the gods. Masters of both skills and techniques. When the Solophid leave their coves to tread upon the seas, lesser predators are naught but prey.

Remalon: Descendants of the Kemalon with all of their powers and none of their weaknesses. Masters of mana and subjugation. Fear not the dominating grip of the Remalon, for it means you were chosen.

Myriad: The pinnacle of adaptability and integration. Masters of the body and soul. So long as life persists, the Myriad will exist to usurp it. Unseen, unbidden, unending.

“These aren’t just another skill evolution, are they?”

“No, Father. They are not.”