Chapter 124- The Morning After

Jiran's aura was large enough to encase a good portion of the Duke's manor. As he slept, nearly every staff member passed within his range at one point or another. It wasn't until a presence appeared on their floor, and in their hallway, that he jerked awake. With consciousness, came instant recognition.

Why is he here?

The young man in question approached with a grimace that deepened with each step until he was visibly shaking with anxiety. His hand reached out to knock on their door but Jiran's aura stopped his knuckles short of the wood. The doors opened slowly, and the duke's grandson bounced backward with a stumbling step. Jiran stood before him with arms crossed and an eyebrow quirked.

The nobleman froze, unable to let out a breath. Three full seconds ticked by, an eternity to his perception that truly tested Jiran’s patience. Then, as suddenly as he had stopped, the young man threw himself to the floor, smashing his face into it while stuttering. "T-thank you so much, M-master Mortemer! Y-you saved me, please allow me to repay your kindness! I'll do anything you ask, you only need say the word and I'll ensure your wish is granted.”

Huh? He's being sincere. Didn't see that coming. Can't think of anything I would want from him other than leaving us alone.

"What’s your name?" Jiran’s quiet tone didn't go unnoticed by the noble who cringed at the sound of his own voice echoing back at them from the long hallway.

"Dornev, Sir." He responded more quietly, his face still pressed to the floor. "Is Miss Aloyhee well? I… was not kind to her. My condition has always brought me incredible agony. I used my pain as an excuse to inflict it upon those around me. I sincerely wish to apologize to her for my actions, if she would permit it."

"She might, but I won’t," Jiran's response was devoid of emotion and sent shivers down Dornev's spine. "Pain is not a valid excuse to strike out at those we should be protecting. Live with your shame, use it as a reminder to never return to the child you once were. As for a personal favor: Tell me of your condition.’ I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Dornev deflated from Jiran’s harsh rebuke of his actions. Upon hearing Jiran’s voice softening and his question, he instantly recovered, sitting up with twitching eyes that refused to meet his saviors. “I was, uhm, rude to someone I shouldn’t have crossed. She cursed me to feel pain until the day I died. At least that’s what she said.”

“Who was it?” Jiran asked, already suspecting the answer but wanting confirmation.

“Lostrifar,” Dornev mumbled the name of the woman responsible for most of the empire's knowledge on formations and wards. “I thought I learned my lesson, I really did. But I… I did it again. I’m sorry.”

Figured. In hindsight, the methodology behind the tablets, formation blocks, and that needle in his head were all too similar to be a coincidence.

“That explains a lot. Can’t say knowing you upset someone like her makes me feel any better about you.”

“It shouldn’t. I’m a failure. Always have been.” Jiran remembered the Duke’s words about Dornevs parents and Olive’s remark that scions of the imperial families are often pushed until the point they died.

Jiran sighed with a shake of his head, “Well, I hope your newfound freedom from pain allows you to move forward. Maybe if you focus on something outside your families expectations you would find more success.” When Dornev finally met his eyes, full of hope and longing, Jiran made sure to point him in another direction. “Maybe you could find a way to make the empire a better place. Madra is not kind, we should all be working together, toward creating a better home for ourselves."

That should keep him out of my hair until we're gone. One troublesome person after another these days. At least they’re all interesting.

The door clicked shut behind Jiran as he left Dornev alone in the hallway. His aura had perfectly blocked the vibrations from their conversation, but the absence of oscillations created a sound all its own. Olive and Mayalyn were finally waking up in the next room. Knowing they would need some time to adjust to their doubled concentration, Jiran floated several garments over to them from a nearby chest without entering.

He waited patiently, toying with Elemental Castigation by creating flickering flames that chased rolling balls of ice across his skin. A bird the size of his hand—made entirely of electricity— flapped its wings in a futile attempt to stay airborne. Gusts of wind occasionally sprouted from his fingers to lift its crackling form to the ceiling where it once more began its gliding descent. When Olive managed to sit up, Jiran sucked the elements back into his skin, reabsorbing the mana.

Olive moved at a glacial crawl as she dressed herself awkwardly, tearing a sleeve in the process, which she repaired with a flash of Forming and a huff. She only managed to smack herself in the face twice, leaving Jiran chuckling both times as he thoroughly enjoyed someone else’s difficulties adjusting to their new strength for a change. The second Olive finished helping Mayalyn pull a shirt over her head, Jiran barged into the room with a face-splitting grin.

“Good morning!” Both girls yelped at the sudden intrusion.

Olive’s eyes flew wide as her balance tilted precariously. She threw her arms to adjust but drastically underestimated her new strength. A shrill squeak shook the room before she toppled backward off the edge of the bed. Mayalyn fared much better, while she also fell, she managed to stay on the bed. With her face squished into the soft mattress, she glared up at him for only a second before cracking a grin followed by sticking out her tongue.

“Jiran! What do you think you’re doing? You can’t barge into a woman’s room like that!” While Olive yelled at him from the floor, Jiran hopped through the air to land on the bed beside Mayalyn.

“I thought we were using Mortemer?” He goaded while leaning against the headrest to enjoy the show.

Olive’s new aura fluttered. It was barely a trickle of pressure buried within his own manabody. He made sure to not impede it in any way as she stretched it for the first time. She flashed a triumphant smile that transformed her entire face into a fusion of pure delight and exuberance. “I can feel that you’re blocking sound. I can feel it!” A trilling giggle escaped her throat as she batted at the hardened shell of aura around them.

Mayalyn managed to squirm her way over to him, not stopping until her head was resting on his leg. She released a contented sigh while looking up at him. She wiggled her fingers and toes, then her hands and feet, slowly working her way toward full-body actions.

“Good morning,” Her voice was a little deeper than he remembered and Jiran enjoyed the pleasant rumble of it passing through his skin. “You’ve changed. Your aura smells… different? H-have I changed?” She asked shyly.

“Yup, you look totally different and your butt is huge now.” He laughed as her jaw fell open but he was quick to form a sheet of reflective light above her with Elemental Castigation. “Don’t worry, Princess, you’re even more beautiful than before.”

She inhaled deeply through her nose with pursed lips before releasing an explosive huff. “You’ll pay for that later! What happened inside that bubble?”

Jiran didn’t bother to translate, knowing Olive would understand from context soon enough. “I’m not human anymore. My skill evolution wasn’t one at all, it was a race evolution.” Olive gasped and Mayalyn’s eyes shot wide as she scrutinized every centimeter of his face. “I’m something called a Remalon now. I have completely different skills, no techniques, and my mana and aura have been significantly boosted. I’ve also noticed little changes in the way I think and process emotions. I keep having strange urges, too. Though, I would rather we put my stuff to the side and focus on you two. After all, you’ve both just ascended!”

“What?! That’s the most idiotic—no we are not going to put that to the side!” While Olive was having a conniption, Mayalyn reached up and pulled at his cheeks with her fingers.

Jiran chuckled when she lifted his lip to look at his teeth. She pulled his eyelid up, scrutinizing his features, then she shrugged. “Okay,” She spoke in Imperial, her single nonchalant response causing Olive’s jaw to drop.

“Okay?! What do you mean, okay? H-h-he’s not—”

“Still pretty. Still not one the People. No difference me to,” She met his eyes and he wouldn’t have been able to tear away from them if a beast chose that moment to blast through the wall.

Olive blinked repeatedly, her gaze shifting between them until her cheeks suddenly turned scarlet. “Ahem, right, of course. Why would something as simple as someone’s race be worthy of getting so worked up? Whatever was I thinking? Oh, I nearly forgot! Jiran, thank you for healing my arm,” She tried to curtsy but once more lost her balance from moving too quickly.

Jiran’s aura firmed to her side, supporting her weight. She sent him an appreciative smile that he only saw through his aura as his gaze was still captured by Mayalyn, “You’re welcome, Niya did most of it though,” Sensing who was about to barge into the room and knowing the atmosphere would soon turn rambunctious, Jiran leaned down. His heart was hammering in his ears as he kissed Mayalyn, pulling away just before Cameron barreled into the room.

Cameron took in the situation instantly and a maniacal gleam flashed across his face before he charged at Olive. She didn’t have nearly enough time or coordination to dodge as his shoulder smashed into her. “Princess tipping!” He yelled with a deep belly laugh as Olive’s arms splayed wide from the impact.

"Waaaah!" She crashed helplessly to the floor in a tangle of limbs. “Cameron! You spineless, scum-devouring snipwit!” Her outrage only fueled Cameron’s full-body laughter. Jiran and Mayalyn joined in as the fuming princess struggled in vain to right herself. She gave up a moment later, breathing heavily through her nose while glaring daggers at her cousin.

Jiran took pity on her and lifted her back to her feet. Cameron lit up with glee as he dove for her again but a block of air turned solid in front of his foot. Instead of crashing into her, he blurted out an undignified squawk as he fell face-first into the floor. Olive was quick to plant her foot on the back of his head with a vengeful exultation. Mayalyn’s giggles were music to his ears as they watched the cousins devolve into an all-out wrestling match.

“Silly as they are, that’s the perfect practice. C’mon, you too!”

“Wha—no!” Mayalyn’s plea fell on deaf ears as Jiran hucked her across the room. She smashed into Cameron’s back just as the boy was getting the upper hand on Olive and all three of them tumbled to the floor. Mayalyn's protests ended the second she made contact as she turned into a hissing, snarling, hell-cat determined to torment her foes with tickles and playful bites fueled with just a touch of electric discharge.

To make it fair, Jiran stretched and contorted Cameron's manabody as the Aahmra had done for him, though with a much lighter touch, turning the boy into an unbalanced, near-helpless sandbag for the girls to harrow. Jiran wasn't idle after accosting Cameron, he relentlessly pushed and pulled on all three of them from random angles while taking a page from Mayalyn and tickling anyone too slow to stand up.

Twenty minutes of rough-housing later, Niya entered the room. Jiran was sitting at the table, his face sore from laughing. His aura was still hard at work 'helping' them as he sipped tea infused with the giggles that permeated the room. He poured Niya a cup and warmed it, giving her a welcoming smile as she joined him.

“Mmh, morning,” She grumbled as she lounged in a chair. A blissful expression crossed her face when she took the first sip. “Ahh, that’s the good stuff,” She sighed.

Jiran cleared his throat, bringing an end to their acclimation training. “Since we’re all here, we have a few things to talk about before we get started,” He poured the others a cup of steaming tea, utterly ignoring the complaints, curses, and glares promising retribution sent his way.

Olive raised her finger, speaking quickly around heavy breaths. “Niya was nice enough to fill us in on everything that happened outside the walls and after we returned. Including the very troubling revelations regarding willpower.”

“Thanks, Niya. That saves some time. I hate to kill the mood, but we need to address the sharing of information. Mayalyn, you should probably sit down for this,” Jiran’s tone, full of empathy, was something she had never heard from him. He could see her core beginning to thrum within her chest as confusion and dread washed through her. She nodded and sat, bracing herself for the worst. “We all know that certain information is banned on Madra. Well, I learned what happens to those who try to spread prohibited knowledge. Mayalyn, I know how your Great-Grandfather died,” He spoke softly but his words still caused her to flinch.

“W-what do you mean? He vanished, he could still be alive. How do you know for sure?”

“I saw his name, Koyada Aloyhee. At the end of the arena, there’s a scoreboard with the names of everyone who has ever passed, and everyone who has ever failed,” Jiran didn’t need to say anything else as Mayalyn fully understood the implications. She maintained a strong front for only a few seconds before a keening wail devolved into sobbing tears. He scooped her into his lap, gently rubbing her back as the little flame of hope she still held bled away.

When she calmed enough to stop crying and leaned limply into his chest, Jiran continued. “My current theory is that he was pulled into the arena because he tried to share restricted information with his daughter. If I’m right, it means I can share anything I want with you four, but you can never tell a soul or you will be pulled into an arena. I’m going back there anyways, so my sharing isn’t an issue, though I’ll want to time things just before I enter again.”

“Could we not do the same?” Olive questioned.

“No, even if I taught you everything I know, I’m pretty sure none of you would survive an arena.”

“Why not?” Niya asked without insult.

“Because in the last one I had the benefit of two tiers of challenger density tripling my attributes and concentration and I still nearly died. For you to go into the tier five arena without any of the previous tiers’ benefits would be suicide. Unless we can find a way to bridge that gap, it's not worth the risk,” All four of them nodded, knowing well the difference between their strength and his. “We need to carefully examine everything you’ve learned from me and be sure to only pass on what we know won't break the edicts. Daughter can help with that, I’m sure. For now, silence is safety.”

Seeing their assent, Jiran moved to the next topic, "I know we all have personal goals, but I'd like to put them aside, for a few days at least, to train. Optimally, I want to push you all to tier seven so only the strongest elites in the empire can stand up to you. With how often bad things happen around me… I don't think I'll be comfortable until you're all as strong as I am."

Niya grunted with a nod, "Yeah, you're a walking disaster. Tier seven sounds like a good start to me. But I'm not going to wait that long before dragging you off to help my friend. Every hour that passes, I get this terrible feeling that she needs me. I don't think I can ignore it for more than a couple days."

"Two days? We can do a lot in two days. Sure, I'll commit to coming with you no matter what in two days. If we're not done here by then, we'll just come back."

"We'll come with you as well," Olive decided for Cameron and herself, reminding Jiran of the bossy girl he met in that cage so long ago. "Both our goals are tied to learning from you and forming positive relations between Mayalyn’s people and the empire."

Every eye turned toward Mayalyn who was only partially recovered from the terrible news of her childhood idol's death. "Every time apart, terrible happen. No more."

"Well, that settles it. Since we only have two days, it's time all of you start training for real," Jiran's grin turned feral when the group released a chorus of groans.