Chapter 536 - Champion Feroy

The next few days are a race against time.

Do we make the damaged parts Exoria functional enough before they locate us? Will we manage it before the mimic takes over his mind? Will he even be able to activate Exoria in his current state? Could we escape now and leave the Champion behind as he is?

Leth works the most, and I follow him. Sometimes I try to locate whatever the Champion left inside his body, but I’m unable to do so. What a curious thing.

During the times Leth sleeps—these one or two hours—I keep the heating running. I fix up the degrading defensive array, which is slowly reaching a point where I won’t be able to repair it. The small damage is okay, but it’s too complex for me to deal with any bigger damage. But I learn a lot—from both Exoria and the tent’s defensive array.

And I talk to the Champion.

Just like he did in front of the other lumorans, he acts strong in front of Leth. It’s something I think I should have noticed before, but I still consider this Champion silly. I believe all the lumorans saw through his attempts and loved him anyway.

But when Leth is asleep, Champion Feroy breaks his mask. That’s when I offer him a chance to talk about himself, his memories—anything to keep him grounded in the fight raging in his mind. Slowly, he does so, and his face loses some of that tension.

Champion Feroy is a gentle man. More than talking about himself or his achievements, he speaks of all the people he has met, about the kindness he witnessed, and about the unfairness that saddened him.

He talks about the time before the war, about his older sister, how she loved flowers and often danced when they were both much younger.

She died during one of the first battles when the Elder Mimic attacked their city nestled against one of the giant trees that used to be in the north—trees that are now gone, deep in the Mimics’ territory.

He talks about his younger brother, who died on the third front when a Champion grade Mimic appeared there unexpectedly for the first time.

He reminisces about his brother’s brown eyes, which were so unusual in a race of typically golden eyed lumorans. It’s something that seemed to make his brother very popular, combined with his easygoing nature and caring side.

Champion Feroy tells me a few more times how much he loved both of his siblings, forgetting that he already did.

He then talks about the day he competed with dozens of other talented lumorans to become a disciple of a Champion, an event that happened often during the war. To his surprise, he was chosen. To his and everyone else's surprise.

Back then, he wasn’t a Champion but just a lumoran called Feroy, a candidate born with a weak body that no healer could fix because the weakness was too deeply rooted. Someone who couldn’t properly use mana without tools to help him.

He talks about a day he visited a school full of orphans, how he spent his entire monthly allowance from his master to buy them toys and sweets.

He talks about how he killed his mother and father, both taken over by Mimics. Back then, he almost gave up, but as always, he forced himself to keep going, determined to do better and push forward.

“One more time,” he said to himself again and again, each time he failed or lost yet another person close to him.

He talks about his master coming up with the idea of Exoria, back then only simple armor to help Feroy channel his mana and cover for his weak body. A tool that others wouldn’t need, something that would only slow them down, but that was so important for him.

Over the years, that armor evolved into what it is now, with every addition and expansion made to support him as he grew stronger.

I listen and only ask a question or two once in a while, especially when he seems lost in thought. When I offer to try helping him, he refuses, telling me he is containing the Mimic. He doesn’t want to risk the Mimic affecting me through physical contact.

A part of me wants to risk it, to help him—perhaps out of curiosity. But I know he’s right. So I listen to the story of his life. His struggles, his failures, and sometimes his achievements, which he mentions shyly and always briefly.

He talks even more about the time his disciples, Hephas and Naeve, put some small animal into the cockpit of Exoria. That scared little creature released a strong scent that filled the cabin for days, impossible to clean out during the training they were doing back then. It is something he now remembers fondly.

His first meeting with Serabeth, who broke his nose after misunderstanding his compliment as a pushy pickup line. She did it even though she knew he was a Champion.

His first meeting with Level 9 Technician Ito, who was only Level 6 at the time and the one who created the original and oldest piece of Exoria. A man of similar age to Feroy, who had shared many adventures with him.

Gradually, I piece together bits of information: the rare illness that makes his body weak and forces him to rely on tools for his abilities; the talent that, despite everything, made him likely the second strongest Champion among the lumorans.

Exoria is a tool, a crutch, something akin to a wheelchair that he needs to safely wield his power without killing himself—even if it holds him back.

When he was just a candidate, it made some people look down on him. Even so, he was able to attract followers—people like Serabeth, Technician Ito, and disciples who, though they didn’t have to, decided to follow in his footsteps and also have war armors made. These war armors were largely funded by Feroy and by his influence, even at the cost of postponing Exoria’s upgrades.

Dozens of lumorans followed this man, each for their own reason: because of his gentle nature, his unwillingness to give up, and his strength. Most of these people are dead now because they wanted to follow him and help him on this dangerous mission he considered crucial for their people. Even though they were not ready and had to move quickly.

Even though Feroy’s illness and the wounds from previous battles prevented him from using Exoria for a while. Even though he couldn’t use his mana anymore without a war armor—and the next time he reactivated Exoria, it would likely kill him.

The fact that he is alive now after everyone struggled to fix it and he activated it, is partly a miracle. Even before heading to the second front, he expected to die soon due to the consequences of the previous fight, the unhealable wounds he had suffered, and his worsening sickness. Maybe his survival is even the result of the Mimic slowly taking over him.

“Once a Mimic enters your body, it cannot escape. It will either take over or try to kill you while it’s dying,” the lumoran in front of me says out of nowhere.

Making sure I’m listening, he explains, “First, you almost don’t notice it. They do their best to remove your memory of them entering. Sometimes they fail, but most of the time they succeed. The next important step they take is to increase your will to live to the maximum, so you’ll avoid danger and be less likely to end your own life before turning into a Mimic Host.”

While speaking, he carefully touches the circular crystalline feature on his left wrist with his fingertips. “Then, if they’re not capable of taking over quickly, they try to weaken you—physically and mentally.”

He thinks for a while before smiling. “I believe a strong will and mental defenses are more important than your skills, traits, classes, or passives, judging by how my ‘guest’ behaves.”

“Is it not possible to remove it?”

“We’ve tried many times, even with Lord Absolute’s help. Even the weakest Mimics cannot be removed without destroying the mind of their host.”

Likely because of all the time I’ve spent with Kyralon and these questions, I’m getting similar in my own curiosity, so I ask, “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“I won’t mind. I’m grateful for your company and for how kindly you’re listening to my stories. Please, ask away.”

“You won’t tell me about your mission here or about the message you left with Leth, right?”

“I hope you understand why.”

“In that case, what makes you keep going? Your disciples, your friends, technicians you spent decades with, and people who were willing to follow you here—knowing none of you would likely survive—are all dead. What else remains?”

He pulls his legs closer to his chest and draws the blanket around his body. Lit by my thermal pyramid, he thinks for a moment.

When he looks back up at me, his eyes are clear. “First, I want to tell you that I never expected it would end this way. If I had known, I wouldn’t have allowed any mercenaries to join this expedition. This is our planet's problem, and I thought we would have more time, but things went terribly wrong.”

He doesn’t seem to be lying, from what I can tell, so I nod.

“As for what keeps me going,” he pauses before continuing, “it’s probably the feeling that it’s all about to end. I’ll die soon while helping you escape, and I’ll take down as many Mimics as I can—including the one in my mind. After that, there will be no more watching the people I care about die or seeing the Lumorans suffer. I'm very tired, Assistant Nathaniel, so just this once, I will be selfish. But before that, I’ll push one more time and give it my best. So that when I meet all those who passed on, I can proudly look into their faces and say, ‘I did my best,’ and thank them.”

***

After that, Champion Feroy doesn’t speak anymore.

His once-gentle eyes grow colder, and he watches me and Leth as we fix up Exoria.

He doesn’t eat or drink.

He doesn’t sleep or meditate.

***

A day passes like that, and finally, a presence appears in the surrounding area. The Mimics buried in the snow stop hiding and stand up. They’re all ready to welcome their newest powerful member into their ranks.

A second-strongest lumoran Champion, possibly about to become one of the strongest Mimics in existence—immense talent and capabilities taken over, with the Mimic potentially fixing or replacing his body while keeping only his mind.

There is almost a kind of rhythm in the air—a vibration I can feel in my chest and a distant humming noise that gradually grows stronger, enough to pierce through the relentless blizzard. It feels like a ritual to welcome the new arrival.

Champion Feroy stands for the first time in a long while. His face is thin, dark circles under his eyes, and he moves slowly, almost mechanically.

Leth and I watch as he steps closer to us.

Almost in desperation, Leth calls out to him with the same love all the now-dead lumorans in this camp used to feel.

The Champion touches the surface of the war armor, and the humming becomes almost ear-piercing.

He slowly climbs into the cockpit, then rests inside and closes his eyes.

The new rhythms quicken, and even the blizzard subsides for a moment.

His eyes open. They’re clear and beautiful as he smiles gently.

“One more time,” he says.

The cockpit slams shut, and the rhythmic cries of the monsters are replaced by screams and waves of mana washing over the area, multiple signatures appearing, each reminiscent of Champion rank.

Exoria stands with a single, energetic movement, piercing through the roof of the half-collapsed tent and sending piles of snow tumbling down on us.

When the domain expands from the war armor, I stretch multiple Ley Lines in every direction.

Even though there are multiple Champion grade Mimics, none can tear it apart as the lumoran Champion doesn't allow it. The mimics can’t even affect the domain of a lumoran Champion on his last stand.

I grab Leth and teleport as far as I can along one of the lines.

Immediately, multiple presences try to track us, but Exoria takes a step, and with it, the blizzard ceases with a single pulse send from it.

The sky, ever clouded and filled with falling snow, turns a clear blue as the sunlight begins pouring down on the area—and onto the tall, black-colored war armor. It almost seems like it’s absorbing that light. Only the scratches reveal the silver metal beneath. The war armor is like its pilot—scarred, damaged, barely holding together. And yet, it's ready to give its all one last time.

Even though it has no wing-like appendages, it floats into the air, a tremor reverberating all around. Above it, a huge halo forms, woven of light itself.

I teleport us again and again, throwing Ley Lines as far as I can after tying them to my projectiles. Leth vomits a few times from all the rapid teleportation, but we need to put as much distance between us and them as possible.

Gradually, only a few stronger presences keep following us. All the remaining ones are held at bay by Exoria and its pilot in a battle I can sense even from this distance.

A terrible screeching. Explosions of light. Earthquakes that reach us even here. The shockwaves sending us rolling and the snow around us evaporating.

Even from miles away, an immense rumbling shakes the air, while flashes of light evaporate everything in their path.

That little black shape with a halo of light, floating against the pale blue sky, even extends some sort of temporary field around us that deflects the attacks of the Mimics still in pursuit. Some of the attacks reach us even here, killing some of our pursuers while permanently scarring the area.

It continues like that even after an hour. And from far away, I can still feel the fight.

Champion Feroy against three Mimic Champions, along with countless weaker ones.

Then it is against two.

Then just one.

When only a single presence remains, the world feels peaceful for a fleeting moment, the gentle light holding steady against the blizzard of the second front.

One more flash and even that last signature disappears.

***

Next Chapter