Chapter 235 - Homecoming

Jiran’s helmet slid free with a satisfying hiss of displaced air. The Outland’s hot winds brushed against his skin. The feeling was so different from the last time he'd been in the area, he hardly recognized it. Attributes boosted the durability of his skin, and his aspect thrummed within his body and soul, cooling both to what he considered a comfortable level. The ambient density prickled against his skin, only to be automatically absorbed, hardly denting his unending appetite for mana.

Thick, dark clouds roiled above, compressing more with each passing moment as chaotic density primed to release upon the baked sands. Jiran licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to leap into those clouds, kick Gaze of Pediamus into overload, and discover exactly what made chaotic density so different from its ambient cousin.

Sensing it was seconds from detonating, he spread his arms and mana wide while tapping into the sensations emanating from his soulgate. There was no excess capacity within his minds to acknowledge the silent stares of his friends as they watched him manipulate his mana for the first time. The cloud burst, and unpredictable, wildly oscillating waves of density coursed through the air, slamming into Jiran’s awaiting net. Foresight fed him the knowledge of those movements before they happened, and he adjusted his energies to match the fluctuations.

A connection formed, and what once was a sweat-inducing challenge, now occurred instantly. Greatly boosted attributes and Concentration gave him the speed to position his mana well in advance. He overwhelmed the density’s defenses, inserting his intent and converting it smoothly into mana. A sigh escaped his lips as fresh energy flowed through into Armament. After experiencing what must have been close to a tier tens manapool, the little he gained was slightly underwhelming.

Better take some time to absorb more before getting to Sanctum. That fight, and making their suits, burned through eighty percent of my reserves. Density is pretty thick here. Good spot, but if the army shows up and there’s no ambient density, it will raise too many questions.

Turning to the group, Jiran curled a brow, “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

Niya’s signature scowl forced Jiran to conceal a smirk, “Get on with it already!” She snapped, knowing full well he was enjoying her reactions, “Tier nines skulking about with our necks as their targets is stressing me out.”

Jiran closed one eye, Gaze of Pediamus locking onto the two Numbered from an unknown distance. They were in a stone room with no visible doors, surrounded by fourteen robed figures. His thoughts churned over how his skill even functioned over such a long distance as he addressed her fears, “Those two aren’t nearby. Though, there’s more of them than I thought, and I can’t tell where all of them are so keep your visors active.”

“You can’t tell? What does that mean?” Her scrunched features twisted in confusion.

“New skill,” was the only response she got. Jiran withdrew the pouch containing Sanctuary’s crystals. Aura grasped the last remaining gems and he focused on the first one, his interface populating a series of messages.

[Sanctuary Tertiary System: Accessway]

[Primary Capacities: Unavailable]

[Secondary Capacities: Functional]

[Current Modular Charge: 100%]

[Current Mated Charge: 100%]

[Interior Modular Transportation: Activate Y/N?]

[Exterior Mated Transportation: Activate Y/N?]

He selected the exterior mated transportation option, then threw the crystal into the air. It stopped short of falling and began rotating in place. The dense mana within slowly released in an oval pattern while he activated the others. Mana Omnis was annoyingly unable to tell exactly how the mana was doing what it was doing as the portals formed and the army began pouring out without any prompting. They were led by the three officers he met in the Forest of Melodies.

They snapped quick salutes, and he returned them, “Colonel Roptere, Colonel Mart, Major Dontin. Welcome home.”

Colonel Roptere, the newly minted leader of the combined Imperial defense forces held her salute longer than the two burly men beside her. She took a deep breath of the arid air, eyeing the familiar densoon clouds above, “Thank you, Sir. 5th Imperial Corps, reporting to Prince Consort for duty, Sir!”

“Corps? How many troopers are under your command, Colonel Roptere?”

“With the last minute addition of the 73rd and 12th, just under two hundred thousand, Sir.”

Jiran whistled, impressed. Then, his brow crinkled as he realized what those numbers implied. For every child that someday dreamed of joining the Imperial Army, it was common knowledge that there were fifteen corps divided across the empire. Each had a long history, rife with heroes who died protecting the masses from Graymin and the swarms of beasts that rose during spawning season. Each corps was composed of roughly a hundred thousand troopers, and with nearly double that present and taking his orders, he was now personally responsible for the lives of nearly a ninth of the entire empire's soldiers. The weight of that realization was heavier than any aura he’d ever felt.

Seeming to know exactly what Jiran was feeling, the gruff Major Dontin spat on the ground, speaking in a bored tone, “Enough chat chit. What are our orders?”

Jiran regained control of himself by diving into the supplied distraction. One corner of his lips pulled up in a soft smile and he nodded to Dontin, “You're going to set up camp right here at the edge of the Outlands. When the Voicers come to investigate, you'll accept any demands they make of you. You're not to attack unless in defense of your lives. Your job is to draw what attention you can without getting our people killed. We've plenty of Graymin for that job.”

Colonel Roptere responded before Dontin could, “True enough. Anything else, Prince Consort?”

“Yes. I’ll make a few formations for our troopers to create their own versions of the Timberlings weapons and armor. Then, we’ll be leaving you here. If we don't return with Olive in two days, pack up and head north to the border.”

The officers shared excited glances until he mentioned the chance he may not return. The colonel’s voice took on a note of concern, “You believe the rankers who joined the church will attempt to stop you from… recovering Princess Oliviala?”

Jiran shrugged, “Well, if Lostrifar, Pierro, or Sagrinar are on their side, there's nothing I can do beyond trying to convince them to let me have her.”

“And the others? They were far from the only rankers spotted in the church's army.”

Jiran huffed, a hopeful gleam reflecting in his eyes, “If anyone below the tenth tier tries to get in my way, they'll meet the same fate as the Numbered.”

Everyone except the two male commanders mouthed the unfamiliar word. Niya turned to Cameron and nodded thoughtfully, “I see what you're talking about now.”

Jiran rolled his eyes, “So funny. I’m not that different! Any other questions?” 

Dontin’s expression was impossible to read, though the snarky bite to his tone was easy enough to decipher, “These formations of yours aren’t going to blow up in our faces, are they?” 

“Only if you try to open one up to see how they work. Also, the weapons they produce will certainly explode if you point them at anything other than a beast.”

Colonel Mart released the first sound Jiran had heard from the man; a drawn out, disgruntled growl that had everyone looking his way. Jiran met his hard gaze with unflinching resolve, “It's us Imperials who have the most issues trusting our new allies. Despite them joining us to defend a home that isn’t theirs, we continue to throw unnecessary bias their direction. The weapons I create will never be capable of harming them. If you have a problem with that, then you’re exactly the type of person I don’t want wielding one.”

They stared at each other in tense silence for long seconds as Imperial soldiers streamed out of the nearby portals. Their joyful cries after seeing familiar densoon clouds filled the surrounding space with a buzz of positivity. With a sigh, Mart relented, dipping his chin before resuming his straight-backed, silent stance. Satisfied, Jiran turned back to Dontin. The shorter man shook his head, having nothing more to add.

Roptere cleared her throat, the juxtaposition between tension and joy seeming to have no effect on her, “What should we do if the Voicers attempt to secure the formations?”

“Don’t try to stop them, and make sure to let them know what will happen if they crack one open. Like I said, you’re to cooperate with any of their demands. Understood?”

“As you command!”

Jiran nodded, confident he had done what he could to keep the brewing conflict from escalating out of control, “This may be our last meeting until all this blows over. Keep our people alive.”

“We will. And may you safely return our commander. Prince Consort, Sir!”

Cameron stifled a chuckle behind a cough, “She really likes saying that, doesn't she? Should I tell her—”

Niya smacked his arm. The clang of metal on metal echoing within their auras was uncomfortably loud, “Stop messing around, this is serious,” turning to Jiran, she planted her hands on her hips, “Get to it, the sooner those formations are done, the sooner we can leave.”

He shook his head, “Not quite. Need to close the portals behind the army so they can’t be used to invade the valley.”

“Oh, of course,” her expression morphed with a conflicted frown and she walked away, mumbling to herself, “Why didn’t I think of that? What is wrong with me?”

Cameron caught his eye and Jiran shook his head, knowing his cousin would rally and be back to normal in no time. The destruction from his brief encounter with the two Numbered had been intense and he couldn’t blame her for feeling out of her depth. Especially since she didn’t yet realize how powerful her new armor was.

With a parting salute, he scooped up Mayalyn in his aura and leaped far enough away that they wouldn’t be in the way of the expanding army, “Can you keep an eye out while I work?” She nodded and he was about to ask her another question but his focus was stolen by another densoon cloud that looked on the verge of detonating. Realizing there was a much more subtle and efficient method than he used before, Jiran sharpened his intent and tapped Armament.

His skill opened a hole in space at the center of the cloud and his mana poured forth. He matched the chaotic densities’ movements, then converted and absorbed enough that the cloud was no longer on the verge of releasing in every direction. While he pulled the mana through Armament and into his body, Mayalyn faced the southern horizon, squinting through her activated visor. He smiled at her back, glad she was there with him, then busied himself with creating a dozen armor and weapon formations.

Initially, Jiran wanted the formations to provide mana storage, propulsion, and beast-mana conversion to the armor and weapons. He quickly realized those functions would leave even a tier five soldier completely dry after supplying the mana required to create their equipment, so he scrapped that idea to focus on more basic creations.

Working from attribute-enhanced memory allowed him to mimic the formations he’d made for the Forkara at blinding speed. The armor stations were large, hollow rectangles standing lengthwise on the ground. The soldiers would first insert their mana into the device, then step inside and seal themselves in while the armor was created around them, based on their individual physique. The only change he had to make was accounting for the fact Imperials didn’t have wings.

For the weapon formations, they were again rectangular boxes, though laying on their sides. The Timberlings had received spears and bows that turned their unique mana into varied elemental attacks, making up for their lack of skills. The Forkara weapons focused primarily on their Bladewind skill, extending their range and destructive potential. For the Imperials, Jiran chose to amplify their most basic offense skill: Channeling. Once the soldier chose an element and fed the device mana, it would create a durable, yet hollow spear made of graphene. The hollow section itself a formation that would amplify the chosen element before releasing it from the weapon’s tip.

He called over a few volunteers, and once each formation was confirmed to be functioning properly, he gathered his party at the portals to wait for the last of the soldiers. They didn’t have to wait long. Colonel Roptere had taken on the role of usher, her booming voice shattering the ground, “Who do you think you are making the Prince Consort wait on your worthless hides?! Any trooper not through this hole in the next thirty seconds is going to spend the rest of their lives digging latrines under alien skies! Pick up your boots! Move move move!”

“I think you might have acquired a new devotee, Master Mortemer,” Cameron chortled, elbowing Jiran in the side.

“I should have left you stuffed inside that tree with your ass hanging out for the world to see,” Jiran’s eyes lit up and he punched his palm, “Hey, that wasn’t very far from here! I bet we could find it in no time. Anyone interested in a little sightseeing?”

Cameron’s laughter halted as abruptly as it started, replaced by Mayalyn’s snickering. She remembered their first meeting all too well, including how badly she had kicked Cameron into said tree when he attacked her out of nowhere. Niya opened her mouth to ask what he was talking about but the last soldier chose that moment to file out of the nearest portal. Jiran left Mayalyn to fill her in, hopping into position and extending a sliver of his mana to connect with the portal. The moment he did, a prompt appeared in his interface.

[Current Modular Charge: 87%]

[Current Mated Charge: 87%]

[Deactivate Exterior Mated Transportation: Y/N?]

More than ready to get their mission underway, Jiran confirmed the prompt and the hole in space swirled in on itself before vanishing with a whoosh.