D.G. - Chapter 262 - STILL A CHILD

They flew through the long tunnels at maximum speed. All were under the power of their own auras save Mayalyn. Jiran pulled her close, blocking their conversation from the rest of the group.

He'd noticed her aura hadn't grown any stronger after her training. Looking straight ahead, he spoke softly, “Everything okay?”

She didn't answer right away, working at her lower lip with a sharp canine, “I… I did not realize the depths of my denials.” She stopped there and Jiran desperately struggled to keep his mouth shut.

She easily scented his anxiety and concern, sending him a soft smile, “They are demons of my own making. The journey in conquering them will be all the sweeter if it is one I tread without your assistance.”

“Accepting them, and conquering them, are two very different things. I'm here if you need me.”

“Thank you, my Aajiran. The truth is, I am ashamed to admit them, to you of all people.”

Jiran frowned, unable to grasp what she could possibly have to be ashamed of. Mayalyn caught his eye when she motioned toward Olive. He nodded and tapped on Olive's aura. She turned her head to them in surprise that only grew when he gently thrust Mayalyn into her care.

He slowed down the group's pace and made sure he wouldn't overhear the girls. Their heads were together as they whispered back and forth in a rapid conversation. The sting from Mayalyn not relying on him was soothed by the fact that Olive was there to help her.

I hope she doesn't think her advances are too pushy? I love how aggressive she is. No, she would be able to sense how much I like it. She'll tell me when she's ready.

Jiran leaned on his Remalonian instincts to quell the minor emotional frustration, then focused his minds toward several different tasks. The experiments on Mathayes had sparked multiple ideas he couldn't wait to delve into.

Amidst the many revelations, the most revolutionary was the combination of gaze and venom. By storing venom inside Mathayes’s eyes, Jiran had been able to remotely connect with the venom when he used gaze to link with Mathayes’s vision. Even now, several kilometers away, he could activate gaze and tap into the venom he'd left there. Not that he could alter the venom from a distance as he couldn’t even do that when touching the stuff. The revelations had triggered several welcome notifications.

Mana Transcendence: +1

Gaze of Pediamus: +4

Mana Venom: +3

Since he could do little with the venom besides slightly moving it around, he left some regular mana behind as well. While it was equally uncooperative—unable to be formed into skills at such a distance—that might not always be the case. To get around this hurdle, he’d left a tiny formation inside Mathayes’s skull. At any time, he could activate it with the stored mana to instantly turn the tier eight's brain to mush.

If not for that failsafe, Jiran wouldn't have felt so comfortable leaving the man with so much of his original personality. It was a reasonable risk. The caverns needed a guardian to protect the people. Additionally, Mathayes’s reputation would ensure any surviving dissidents of the church would try to reason with him instead of immediately attack. The only issue was that the connection with gaze didn't go both ways. If something happened to the man while Jiran wasn't watching, he would have no idea. He wasn't about to tie up one of his minds on a permanent basis, but checking once in a while was hardly an inconvenience.

They reached the section of the tunnel which used to house the complex, micro-formation doorway. The entire area was now melted slag and Jiran's lifted his brows at Olive. She paused her conversation with Mayalyn long enough to return a sheepish, broken smile.

Jiran chuckled, shaking his head. They exited the final set of stairs, bursting into fresh air. First Father's splendor basked the world in rosy hues. First Mother's cerulean was only starting to grace the horizon behind him. Their combined colors painted the gathering densoon clouds a moody purple.

I can’t be absorbing any more of those. Takes a lot of Foresight to feel in advance how the chaotic density is going to move. 

“Where to, boss?” Cameron chirped, clearly happy to be under the open sky once more.

“Hey! You said you'd help me make a final check,” Niya's expression turned thunderous as Cameron panicked and tried to fly off. “You're not getting away that easy, you lout!” Niya caught him with little effort and grabbed his ear, pulling him toward the healers' tents. “Is an hour long enough?” She called back to Jiran.

“Ouch-ouch-ouch!” Cameron cried out. Jiran wasn't fooled, and neither was Niya. The secretive grin pulling at his lips made it obvious he was enjoying the attention.

“Yeah. I'll find you two when I'm ready.”

“Okay, bye!”

Jiran returned Niya’s wave, then raised a questioning brow to Mayalyn and Olive. The latter cringed apologetically, “We're going back to the command tent. The official missive I'm to deliver to Archbishop Daleese should be prepared by now. You're going to find my brother, right?”

Jiran nodded, “Yes. Lenton first, then Prince Ardon.”

Olive sighed, “Will you ever give Master Filibree the respect he’s due? Nevermind. It is not my place to judge your relationship.” She looked between him and Mayalyn, clearly uncomfortable with separating, even for a short time. The unresolved issues between them only made it worse. “We shall see you soon. Sorry I can't come with you.”

The guilt furrowing her visage was so cute Jiran didn't want to dispel it by telling her how glad he was that the two of them could rely on each other. Myalayn spoiled his fun, “Do not let his pretty face fool you. He is happy we are going together.” Knowing exactly what she'd done, Mayalyn shot him a wink then jumped into the air. Her aura was weak and wobbly, barely strong enough to fly.

Olive's eyes widened and she hastily waved at Jiran before jumping after the blue-haired girl. Her concern was unnecessary. Mayalyn cackled with glee at her first successful attempt to fly under her own power. Jiran watched them go, then stretched his aura high, pulling it tight against the framework before blasting straight up. Reaching the clouds, he used Mana Omnis, quickly finding Lenton. A short, powered dive later brought him to his mentor’s side.

The old man’s aura welcomed him long before he arrived. Lenton swept an arm to the side, indicating the objects he’d gathered. The other arm was tucked against his lower back. He stood straight and tall, his voice holding a regal edge that Jiran didn’t recognize, “Are you sure you want to do this? Executions are one thing. This… is something else entirely. It will set a precedent that you are no longer one of us, but an entity beyond reasonability… beyond reasoning. Your enemies will use it to slander you, to convince others that equally atrocious acts are permissible. Even your allies will suffer for it.”

Jiran knew he was right. The tier nine Templari he’d disabled with Mana Venom were laid out in a neat row, their bodies as unmoving as he’d left them. Each was dressed in ceremonial bandages, fully prepped for the funeral pyre that any Voicer would demand they be afforded. By turning their bodies to density and absorbing them, he would be embracing several taboos.

Chief among them: humans did not eat humans. Only beasts could eat their own kind without suffering excruciating repercussions. Jiran had only heard the old womens’ tales about the repercussions of cannibalism, so he didn’t know what was truth or fiction. It didn’t matter, the moment he consumed their density, regardless of the method, he would be labeled as no longer human.

There were plenty of witnesses, but that could be easily solved with a little elemental light. Staring hard at the Templari with Mana Omnis, Jiran offered a suggestion, “I could create some fake bodies that are close enough to real.”

Lenton lifted a bushy, white eyebrow, “The burning of a tier nine takes a moon, and each one should release a uniquely hued smoke based on the colors of their mana.”

“Yeah, no way I’m pulling that off without a lot of time to experiment…” Jiran trailed off, then shook his head sternly, “It doesn’t matter.” He held out his hand toward the corpses in all but name, “I’m no longer human. I haven’t been for some time. I’m a Remalon.” Lenton’s scalp stretched taut, his skin migrating to another continent, but he didn’t interrupt. “There are three races depending on me for protection. No, there’s four now, even if they don’t know it yet. The shackles of the empire’s common sense don’t apply to me, I can’t allow it to apply to me.”

Mana Transcendence sank into the Templari, struggling mightily to do what was so easy with the swarmers. It made sense; a tier nine was more than an order of magnitude more durable than a tier seven. He closed the distance, adding Mana Venom to the mix. For the first time, he poured all his intent into its rapid cellular degradation. He and Lenton watched in morbid fascination as the skill ate their bodies from the inside out. By the time their skin flaked away, their insides were gone.

Mana Venom: +2

Good thing there’s no challenger density when there isn’t a challenge.

Jiran’s mana spread in a wide sphere, trapping the abundant density released from his combined skills. He slowly compressed it, his arms spread wide and his eyes closed in focus. He started with his arms, cutting his skin thousands of times. Unable to both block the bleeding and allow the density inside, he tasked one of his minds to continually replenish his blood.

The density spread evenly through both limbs and he trapped it there with walls of mana in his shoulders and across his skin. Those same walls snipped the nerves so there was no pain, but this was still the easy part. When his arms could hold no more, he moved to his legs, again numbing the pain with small barriers of mana.

The sphere was reduced by less than a quarter, so he took a deep breath and shredded his torso and face. Needing his heart and brain to continue communicating, he left the nerves alone. The density swarmed inside, millions of biting fish, pecking and pulling at his flesh. He threw his head back to scream but his breath seized in his lungs. On instinct, he tried to heal himself with Mana Transcendence: the skill failed.

A cold, calculating part of his brain instantly realized why. His cells were in the middle of upgrading and weren’t yet genetically coded with what they were about to become. Unable to breathe, he did the only thing he could think of and converted some of the mana in his chest to oxygen.

The lettering printed on his eyelids turned so bright he couldn’t read them. In fact, the whole world turned white and his thoughts stuttered. Realizing what he’d done, he pumped the pure oxygen from his lungs by forcing them to expand and contract with a large bubble of mana. He continued to pump himself like a billow, filling his body with sweet atmosphere, clogged with even more density.

The minutes dragged on as he compressed the sphere more and more. Eventually, his whole body was crammed with density, including his brain. Rational thought fled. Jiran’s time as a sapient creature ended, his existence devolving to pain-filled sentience.

It ended gradually, little pinpricks of understanding working their way in from a great distance. Then, reality rushed back in an inverse shockwave. His eyes snapped open, finding Lenton standing not far away. Jiran blinked and frowned.

All that for only two percent Growth. Challenger density really is the biggest cheat.

“Thanks for staying,” Jiran didn’t want to meet the old man’s judging gaze, but he did so anyway.

“You’re not having any reaction whatsoever. It’s true. You’re no longer human. Not that it matters, seeing as you’re still as great a dunderhead as ever! You were completely defenseless for over a minute,” Lenton’s scowl was packed with meaning. “For someone with four whole races relying on his meager efforts, such risks are unacceptable.”

“You're right. I know how to do it safely next time,” Jiran broke eye contact, glancing down at his ruined outfit. A shimmer of mana patched it and cleansed it of blood.

Why the inferno did I do my whole brain at once? I’ve got multiple lobes for a reason.

“Good. Ensure you go beyond merely correcting your mistake, and correct the method of thinking that led you to stumble in the first place.”

I take risks to grow stronger, faster, because danger has always come to find me, not the other way around. Has it been Foresight's curse this whole time? Using it pushes me into danger great enough that I have to rely on it again to save myself, only for its use to put me in greater danger… Just like Malaniea said, circling ever deeper into the depths.

I need to find out exactly how true that is. First, I have to break the cycle. No more Foresight, no matter what. Then, I should be able to relax my pace and stop taking risks to grow stronger. For now, it's only a theory. Until I confirm it, I have to keep pushing forward as quickly as I can.

Jiran nodded, agreeing with him completely but unable to commit to his suggestion, “Planning ahead isn’t so bad, I suppose. But leaping headfirst into the tempest is so much more entertaining.”

“Pahh!” Lenton rolled his eyes, “Still a child.”

“If you say things like that, people might realize that you're now the oldest old man in the whole empire.”

Lenton's smirk vanished. They shared a chuckle, then Jiran’s countenance turned stony, “You mentioned that you knew what my curse was back in Morothin. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I have suspicions of its nature, but that's all they are. Did you figure it out?”

Jiran nodded, his voice despondent, “I think so. It's something like danger begets danger. Malaniea said the emperors chose to take the brunt of it, and now they’re dead. But that was the old backlash of the curse. Since then, I’ve used Foresight dozens of times. The Templari and burgheist alone was more than every other use combined. Not to mention all the densoon clouds I absorbed. If the danger really grows worse with each use, then what's coming next...”

Lenton put on a brave front, but Jiran could tell there was a raging river of concern just beneath the surface, “You speak as if you’ve got it all figured out. It took me hundreds of years to fully understand my curse. One thing I know for sure is that they aren’t all powerful, certainly not to the extent of killing emperors! I’m sure they are alive, so do not lose hope. It’s good you’ve gained some knowledge. Knowing a problem exists is the first step in all endeavors. Now, either refill my mana or begone, brat.”

Jiran hid his fond smile with a deep bow, “If you had mentioned mana before I absorbed the Templari, I could have converted some for you. Restoring your mana from my reserves would severely deplete them. Without the densoon clouds-Wait, I thought you didn’t want help from me anymore?”

Lenton scoffed, “Can’t do the whole thing so you won’t even do a little? Greedy disciples are the worst!” Lenton flew away in a rush, not giving Jiran a chance to impart a single mote of mana.

Probably didn’t want any to begin with. Coy old codger.

Watching the old man’s receding back, Jiran was filled with warmth. His whisper was too faint to be heard by any save himself, “Thank you, Master Filibree.”