Away From Home

Chapter 370

Away From Home

Myael was calm. Perhaps, for the first time in his life, he was truly calm. It had never suited him, being calm. He was far more himself when he was in the middle of a battle, roaring and screaming till his lungs gave out. It felt stuffy, being calm. Yet, calm he had to be. After all, it was no longer the matter of pointless squabbles between factions of his own world. It was no longer the matter of slowly grinding the tall wall of Conquest till one group emerged victorious. Their existence was threatened, and, as such, he had to stay calm.

He was reading through a file that his second in command had complied, a file on a very small and seemingly insignificant world. They've yet to even conquer the Tempest, yet to break down the first barrier, yet… it was dangerous. They were sapping the Towers—Mana, as though bewitched by some call, was seeping out of the countless worlds and rushing toward theirs, quantifying and purifying the reserves. This only ever meant one thing, Myael knew—someone special was born there. Or some few specials, though it was usually just one.

"Did you read through it?" a familiar, calm voice asked. Unlike him, Ayttna was always calm, ever since he first met her. Come high hell or water, she never lost her cool. The two of them were always the exact opposites—fire and water.

"Yea," he replied, putting down the file and sighing. "There's nothing here."

"Because of the shield, we were unable to send anyone in for deeper scouting," she said. "Most of the info isn't all that reliable either. We'd be going in blind."

"Most everyone is irrelevant," he said. "At best, twice-Awakened, though highly unlikely still. What matters is that one. If they can exercise the Will of Divine—"

"There is no proof of that," she said. "Just because the Mana began flowing toward the world doesn't mean that anyone there can chant the Will. There are a myriad other reasons."

"None that can explain the abrupt acceleration," he said.

"…"

"What? You look like you are about to puke out the words. Go ahead."

"There is one."

"What?"

"Explanation."

"… since you are being so coy," he said. "It's likely even more insane than the presence of Divine Will. This will be interesting."

"Theoretically, it is possible that the quantity of Mana is being time-staggered."

"… meaning?"

"Meaning that someone is manipulating time itself to accelerate it within the world. This would mean that rather than the quantity of Mana we're seeing being dragged over is being dragged at breakneck speeds, it is instead the accelerated version of months, years, if not even decades."

"You do realize how insane that sounds, right?"

"Yea."

"I don't doubt you," he said. "But I doubt you. There's a greater chance of two-three Divine Wills being born unto the world over that kind of time manipulation. Even on a smaller scale it is usually predictable as it consumes just as much Mana as it expels. Yet, there is no visible spectrum being expelled. If someone or something was manipulating time at this scale, evidence of it would be everywhere. Namely, others would have noticed well before us. As in, the Divine Hall."

"… that's true," she sighed, shaking her head slightly. "Besides, it's just theoretical. I've been amusing myself recently, reading the Records of the Clock, so a thought came to me."

"A fine thought. Now, I need finer. How many worlds have we managed to contact?"

"Twelve," she replied. "Eight of which agreed to work with us. It's in varying capacities, however, as their worlds aren't as impacted as ours. With the exception of Lymantha World, which promised to send around a thousand of their top Conquerors. Most others appropriated some fifty at most, none promising their trailblazers."

"They're just sniffing out the situation," he said. "If our campaign fails, they'll know to bankroll a whole army. Greedy idiots, all of them," Myael complained. He hated the hollow friendships between the ascending worlds more than anything. For decades now they would meet in both private and public and hold forums and alliance meets, but it all amounted to nothing when pressure actually descended.

"You can't convince me you wouldn't do the same in their position," Ayttna scoffed at him with a grin.

"…" he remained silent, as there was no need to even try and deny it to her. "What do you think our approach should be?"

"Has to be direct," she said. "Even then, we'll barely be able to penetrate the shield. If we take too long, a clean-up crew might come."

"Doubtful, for such a small world," Myael said. "Then again, everything about this is doubtful."

He wanted to burst out in anger—wanted to shout and scream injustice. His people have fought hard for centuries, but never produced a Will Divine. Nothing even remotely close, actually. Their strongest were all either poached by the higher worlds, or went in pursuit of greatness to the Primal Lands. Of those who stayed, save for Ayttna and him, only a few could be considered powerful.

What hurt the most was that his world was fairly young among the masses—within the wide ring, there were exactly forty-four inhabited worlds, thirty-one of which had commenced their Trials, as far as they knew. The oldest were already battling for over a thousand years, while the world they were looking at was likely the youngest, just a few decades, if that. Such young worlds were usually ignored until a bit later in their lifespan when 'Friendly Entourage' docks to the ground and begins squeezing the world dry. It happened to his, and he did it to quite a few himself.

Nobody was touching the world still as the breach of the veneer simply cost too much, and the benefits would be virtually non-existent. The quantity of Mana, too, was quite pathetic—lowest recorded, in fact, within the ring. And yet, it all changed—abruptly at that. Within what felt like a month, the surge of Mana seeping toward the world matched his' yearly output. And the accelerated rate… didn't slow down.

If left unchecked, the larger quantity and quality of Mana would produce vastly better Conquerors, but also vastly better items and classes, as the world's strength and procurement within the Towers usually had mostly to do with the quality and quantity of Mana that the Conquerors are able to generate. That was why even a singular entity capable of manifesting Will Divine can completely change the fabric of the world, turning it from a sandy desert of nothingness to a lush world full of opportunities.

"Don't worry too much," she said suddenly, as though having read his mind. No, she may as well have. She knew him better than he knew himself, after all. "We'll probe carefully first—if things look like they are turning sour, we'll retreat and call forth the whole armada before returning."

"That's the danger part," he sighed. "If they retreat and scatter throughout the Towers and their inner worlds, it will be almost impossible to weed out the cause of this. It's best if we incite their strongest, the likeliest to have Will Divine, into coming to us. However, if we are overwhelmed too quickly, then even if we do return with an armada, they will be more cautious."

"In either scenario, we can't lose," she said. "Even if they manifested the Will, they're still an infant. At best, as you said, a twice-Awakened pup. Even the Divine Will has a limit to its protective properties. Especially if it's inherited rather than internally sown."

"... I certainly hope so," Myael sighed. There was a worm of doubt still seething within him. Though he had never witnessed the manifestation of Mana like this before, he did read stories and was very well versed in the signs to look out for. Practically all of the Conquerors who were trailblazing their worlds were--they had to be in the know, otherwise they would be blindsided like many before.

"If you're that worried, should we just cancel it?" she asked.

"Tsk, cheeky bitch."

"Don't call me a bitch."

"Don't behave like one," he grumbled. "I put my face out there, Ayt. If shit falters, it's my head that's gonna roll. You must know that they've already sent reports further out. We have, what? Maybe a couple of years before first Demigods begin showing up. If we don't subjugate the world completely in that span, all our efforts will have been wasted once those fucks roll in and just lay claim to everything."

"... so, we best subjugate it then, in record time," Ayttna patted his shoulder. "Lest we burn, too."

Ar'dyzar was curiously glancing to the coalition of forces forming round the formless ring orbiting the tiny world in the middle of nowhere. Though she had been busy with countless things, she'd often at least pay a cursory glance toward Cain's system. She, too, had noticed the surge of Mana--but only because she was allowed to. She was well aware that Yuun purposefully left out the print for the ordinary world to see, likely as a test for Cain.

Even if she wanted to intervene, she couldn't; she was monitored closely and carefully, as were most of the youngest Divines. And though her rebellious nature did afford her some level of freedom, it wasn't much. If she stepped out of line, they wouldn't hesitate to eradicate her, even on the tiniest suspicion of a wrongdoing.

"Master, here," a voice of the young girl drew her attention away from the war a-bubbling and toward the front, where a sixteen-seventeen year old girl wearing simple robes stood, holding a head of an old man wearing an expression of horror. The girl's demeanour was calm and cold, her eyes void of stately panic most would have at such a sight.

"Did he put up a fight?" she asked, taking the head from her and opening a hole in-between the man's eyes before pulling out a silvery ball, withdrawing it seemingly into herself.

"His begging was a nudge better than the previous one's," the girl replied. "If that can be considered a fight. What's my next order?"

"You'll descend," Ar'dyzar replied. "In a few years, a major war will break out within a small world."

"You want me to prevent it?"

"No, I want you to observe silently," she said. "For the start, at least. The small world can lose, but it cannot be defeated."

"Yes, Master."

"Also, you must not be found, no matter what."

"If I am, I won't."

"No--I mean, there's no need to kill yourself," Ar'dyzar sighed. Her fine Disciple was grand and beyond talented, but she was also... a bit nuts. Which would be fine, as Ar'dyzar enjoyed insane people, but her Disciple leaned on the side of odd psychotic rather than just psychotic psychotic. "Just--aaah, just be careful not to be discovered. Inspection shouldn't be grave--just pick a random, long-term mission somewhere far away before departing. They're not looking too deeply into third-generation Disciples."

"... Master."

"Yes?"

"Are you the one they're looking for?"

"Why? You looking to turn your Master in?"

"Hardly," the young girl replied, putting her hands behind her back. "But I don't appreciate being kept in the dark. I'm a frail young woman. What if I'm ambushed with questions I have no means of answering?"

"Frail?"

"Decidedly so."

"... tell them to suck a dick and cut off their heads."

"In that order?"

"In whichever order you'd prefer."

"Who am I protecting on the minor world?"

"You're protecting the world," she said. "The person in question is a loose cannon that would go off the rails should the world collapse. They'll do fine, but it might be too much even for them to protect the world from a full-on invasion. So, just assist. Silently, if possible. If not, just let them know I've sent you."

"How will I know who they are if you won't even divulge their genitalia?"

"Oh, you'll know. Trust me, you'll know."