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Arthur Leywin
I waited at the edge of the sound barrier, my eyes tracing the currents of dark green mana as they enshrouded the hidden camp. Behind me, a hundred and thirteen elves and men all waited silently, anxious for my command. The moon barely shone overhead in the pitch darkness of the night.
One of the many Alacryan camps of the Beast Glades waited before me, shrouded to most. But between Lance Phantasm's reconnaissance, the knowledge of the Trailblazer Division, and the information Tess had drawn from Mawar, it was only a matter of time before we started finding the hives of these parasites. This was one of the largest camps we'd found, easily housing hundreds of Alacryans and beasts alike.
I had debriefed all of my soldiers on the plan before this, but I could taste the uncertainty they held as they lounged in the nearby trees and foliage, tense as bowstrings. It was a familiar thing, one I'd experienced long ago in another world. When I first became King Grey, my troops were hesitant to follow me. Deep in their souls they didn't know me, couldn't trust my authority.
Until I showed them the strength of my sword; the sharpness of my mind.
Once upon a time, I had spoken to Dicathen of what it took to foster loyalty among the citizens. But to foster loyalty in soldiers was a different matter.
I needed to show them that I was worthy of their support.
Sylv, I thought over my mental tether as I waited leisurely by a tree, how goes your end?
It took a minute for a reply to come. "It's all ready, Arthur," she replied, her voice tense and emotions wired like the strings of an instrument. "But…"
I shifted slightly. What is it, Sylv?
Our bond darkened for a moment. "It's nothing. I'll tell you after the battle, when we can afford distractions."
I frowned slightly as our tether darkened, my foxy dragon focusing on her emotions and settling her thoughts. But despite my worry, I trusted my bond would do what she needed.
I turned slightly as an elf phased into existence by my side, the wind magic that muffled his steps billowing slightly. Immediately, he knelt, his face covered by masks that reminded me of a ninja from my past life. He lowered his eyes as he sank a fist into the soft earth.
"Lances Silverthorn and Phantasm sent word. They are each in position and awaiting your orders," the man said quietly. "Permission to proceed?"
I rolled my shoulders, calling on my mana as I prepared myself for what was to come. "Granted," I said. Over my bond with Sylvie, I repeated the same order. She had permission to proceed.
All across the Beast Glades, several distinct strike teams had been gathered. Led by Tess, Aya, and Sylvie respectively, they prepared to send daggers right into the throats of our enemies. And like a trap drawing shut, we would all strike at the same time. The Alacryans were fielding their massacres from these hidden camps, but once they were destroyed? There would be no more deaths plaguing the countryside of Sapin.
I held a hand out to the side as I dismissed the informant, cycling through a few hand signs to alert the troops behind me.
Then I stared at the sound barrier, calling on my mana. My core thrummed, and I felt my mood dip into something cold and hard.
I called on the power inherent in my blood, and I turned fireborne. My very skin began to glow a translucent orange as the fire mana in the atmosphere flared to my perception. I felt the urge to move; to rush and explode and let it all go.
I felt what it was like to be fire itself.
And as I built mana along my translucent legs in a precise pattern, staring deep into the heart of the Alacryan camp, I restrained the fury of the flames themselves for an instant. Holding them back like a wildfire. At the same time, I called on the wind mana, removing any sort of resistance from my body.
Then I let Burst Step go. I blurred forward in a stream of heat, flames erupting from the soles of my feet in perfect conjunction with the timing of mana along my muscles and bones. Combined with the explosive nature of my fireborne form and the lack of air resistance, I streaked forward like the arrow of a god.
I phased into existence right at the center of the Alacryan camp, a trail of cinders burning in my wake. I had a moment to register everything around me as my fiery form illuminated the darkness.
A dozen or so men lounged around a campfire as I appeared in the middle of it, none of them armed or armored. Half a hundred mana beasts lounged unnaturally around the outskirts, corrupted beyond ken and unable to feel fear.
I clapped my hands together, following the demands of the fire itself. Beneath me, the campfire of the utterly astonished Alacryans exploded upward in a pillar of flames that banished the night. It would've been seen for miles around as a plume of orange battled against the stillness.
The Alacryans didn't even have a chance to scream as they were turned to ash.
Those fires roared for a moment, twisting and churning in a nimbus as wind magic amplified them with me at the center. Motes of purple aether flashed within, further guiding the destructive power of my spell. The flames roared.
But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
I grasped the tornado of fire as it swirled around me with my mind, harnessing its power as I pulled it closer and closer inward, as I compressed it with an effort of mind and aether.
I shifted my stance, changing to my earthborne form. Where before I felt the impulse to move and strike and burst, the effects of the stone in my veins–tinting me the yellow color of earth mana–demanded that I slow down. That I weather anything that came my way. The rolling surety assured me nothing could harm my body.
I reared back my fist as I stared at the ground, focusing on the roiling tumult all around me. I could hear the screams of burning men, feel the tremble of the earth. A swirl of stone built like a gauntlet over my hand, interlaced with flames and motes of crackling electricity. A pillar of rock rose up directly beneath my feet like the head of a nail.
Then I lined up precise points of mana along my robust body, keeping my focus on the enraged campfire and pillar of stone beneath my feet.
Then I activated Burst Strike.
My fist accelerated downward like a hammer, my shoulder nearly tearing itself from my socket as the mana activated my muscles in precise timings. My gauntleted spell slammed into the conjured pillar, slamming it deeply into the soft earth like a pile driver. The stone beneath me cracked and shattered, and then a shockwave traveled outward.
As the earth broke from my strike, the shockwave carried my fire like a ship on the waves of a storm. In the next instant, I was windborne, glowing green with the freedom of the air. And with the power of my wind magic enhanced, I used the opportunity to push the fire even more, to really make it spread around me.
When it was done, there was only destruction. Fires burned as the earth cratered and fell inward around me, smoke rising to the sky in a hundred-foot radius. I felt a twinge from my mana core and a strange sort of exhaustion from the quick changes in form, as if my mind had been pulled in too many directions at once.
There had been hundreds of Alacryans and beasts before I initiated my strike. And as I looked about at the charred corpses and remnants of a garrison screaming in pain and weeping for their mothers–as men did in every world–I felt a grim sort of acknowledgment, even through the flighty effects of windborne.
I easily drifted to the side, evading a few buzzing saws of ice from a faraway caster that zipped back and forth erratically. As the initial shock of my attack ran its course through the survivors, spells began to hurtle toward me in strange mishmashes of color.
For an instant, time seemed to slow as I watched all of the attacks stream for me. My auburn hair–tinted green by the effects of windborne–blew with the breeze as men tried to put up some sort of defense.
I summoned Dawn's Ballad in a flash of purple, calling on my bond with Sylvie. And the world began to twist.
I flowed forward into the bending space provided by Warp Step, appearing beside a faraway Shield. They'd barely managed to survive my initial assault by creating pillars of ice beneath themselves and their comrades, but they didn't even see the flash of purple that took off their head in a graceful sweep.
I ignored the shocked and horrified screams of the Casters and Strikers. Those weren't my targets. My eyes scanned the battlefield as mana built along my limbs once more.
I Burst Stepped forward as I spotted another Shield, fire and cutting wind coursing along the blade of my sword. They'd been creating little bubbles of metal around nearby mana beasts and their comrades, but that only highlighted them to me as a target I needed to eliminate.
When I normally used Burst Step, the movement was uncontrollable once I'd started. But with the effects of windborne, I was able to shift ever-so-slightly through my trajectory, calling on the currents around me to guide my strike.
I breezed into the center of these Alacryans, casually thrusting the burning edge of Dawn's Ballad into the heart of an AA-class mana beast. From within the strange interlocking plates of metal, casters threw a myriad of spells at me, trying to pin me down. But I simply flowed upward, balancing on top of the mana beast's corpse as it was peppered with a hundred wounds.
I became fire once again, feeling my affinity for the flames rise. And in turn, I could feel my knowledge of the lightning deviation heighten. I raised my sword into the night, calling on the ambient wind and fire mana. My blade crackled as electricity built along its edge, tinged with motes of aether.
Little stormclouds grew around my small section of the battlefield. At the same time, I raised walls of earth to hem in my foes and ward off as many attacks as I could from the outside. My core strained and my body ached.
Then I swung my blade down.
Bolts of yellow lightning erupted from the stormclouds, streaking down in a crack of screaming yellow energy. The aether I'd imbued followed it as it pierced the protective bubbles of metal, ionizing anything that got too close. And then the tendrils jumped from the metal, biting at the Strikers that were rushing me madly.
Some managed to redirect the energy, or use some sort of rune to evade the chain lightning. Most didn't, instead becoming charred husks or twitching as they fell to the ground.
I flew upward into the sky as more attacks tried to converge, aware that I couldn't defend against them all. Holding the wall of earth had already drained my reserves significantly.
I looked down on the smoking ruins of the Alacryan camp like a vengeful deity as I allowed my fireborne form to fall away. It was in utter chaos. Men burned from fires. Twitched from lightning. Or simply couldn't escape the rubble from my initial earth spell.
I'd only directly impacted perhaps a third of the Alacryan camp so far, but that was the plan.
I called on my mana, imbuing Dawn's Ballad with all four elements as I waved it in the air. "Charge!" I snarled, the training I'd done with Wren burning under the surface of my mind. "Tear them apart!"
And just like that, the elves and men waiting patiently at the edge of the camp erupted from the trees, surging inward toward the already chaotic battlefield, just as planned.
I let myself think for a moment, casually batting aside a few spells that made it close to my position in the air, before I scanned the carnage for more Shields. And when I found them, I called on my bond with Sylvie, warping the space before me and stepping through.
The battle didn't last another hour. With my disruptive initial assault and the chaos I'd instilled, my troops wreaked bloody vengeance on the invaders. And as I tore apart their Shields, the enemy found it more and more difficult to resist.
At some point, something had happened to turn the unnaturally docile corrupted mana beasts back to their feral nature, but that had only served to help my assault. While we took casualties, the odds were overwhelmingly in Dicathian favor.
At the very end of it all, I stood at the center of what was once the camp as my troops continued to scour the area for any Alacryans still alive. With their gray and red battle armor, they were easy to spot and dismantle, and I had no doubt they regretted stepping foot onto my continent.
A familiar man marched up to me with the precision of a trained soldier. Captain Janus Auddyr clanked as he walked, his glaive clenched tightly in his hands. His armor was dented and stained red in a dozen places, and it looked as if he'd lost part of his hair in a fire. But there was a hardness to his eyes that belied the arrogance he'd first shown me when I entered this war. When I shifted slightly, indicating I was aware of his presence, he immediately knelt.
"The Alacryans are all dead on our side," he said grimly, his hand clenching around the haft of his halberd. "Survivors ran deeper into the Beast Glades, and the corrupted beasts scattered. Will you send runners in pursuit?"
I considered this for a moment, running over the pros and cons as I saw them. "No," I responded. "What matters is that the Alacryans' control over the mana beasts is severed. Those mana beasts are the greatest threat to our people, and we don't have the resources at the moment to risk sending runners. I'll have a secondary sweep go over the area when this operation is done."
I paused, allowing myself to survey the remnants of the battlefield. "Gather your men, Captain Auddyr. We have time yet in the night to strike a few more camps, and we cannot let the element of surprise go to waste."
Janus kept his eyes low. "As you command, King Leywin." He stood, then marched back to his men. He began to bark orders to them, forcing them into a semblance of unity once more.
That was something the Captain–however arrogant he had once been–was talented at. He could rally his troops and soldiers into fighting fashion quickly and efficiently. And it seemed that my display on this battlefield was already making the impression I needed, seeing as the last embers of defiance in the Captain's eyes had gone out.
My eyes flicked to the side, noting the phantom shadow of King Grey as he observed my interactions. Judging them as I once judged my enemies. I wondered what the hallucination was thinking. Were my choices respectable to King Grey? Or were they shallow and meaningless, tainted by the emotion of Arthur Leywin? I felt my anxiety rise as I stared at the hallucination, feeling the urge to try and tear it apart.
I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, looking away from the shade as smoke rose into the sky. I thought I could feel his eyes on my back as I refocused my thoughts.
I would need to talk to Sylvie when this was over. Tess as well.
I approached the other leader I brought along with me on this expedition. Jesmiya Cruwer was the captain of the Trailblazer Division. Her soldiers had the greatest experience in expeditions through the Beast Glades and in striking dungeons, and as such her loyalty was paramount if I wished for my designs to go according to plan.
She was deep in conversation with a few other men, but when they saw me, their words died on their lips as they stared at me with awe.
The blonde-haired leader of the Trailblazers didn't share the same reverence I saw in the eyes of her soldiers–but there was respect. And hopefully, I could pull that respect into allegiance. When I approached, she bowed slightly.
"Commander Leywin," she said sharply, sticking to protocol. "I assume you are here to receive a report on our fighting forces."
I nodded, locking my hands behind my back as I stood tall, a contrasting mirror to the phantom of King Grey looming behind Jesmiya. "I will need an accurate report of what losses we've incurred, Captain," I said, "but more importantly: get your men ready to move. We will strike at least two more camps tonight, and we need to be prepared."
Before this attack, I'd laid out my plans on a map to the Captains. They knew what was coming next.
"Pardon, Commander," Jesmiya said, "but there are wounded among us, and many are exhausted. We need to ensure our troops are rested before another march."
I glanced at the woman from the side of my eye, allowing a silence to linger between us for a short time. Enough to make her slightly uncomfortable.
"We will give them fifteen minutes to recuperate," I said sternly. "And then we move once more."
The woman ground her teeth slightly but finally nodded in acquiescence.
As I strode away, using mana rotation to replenish my reserves of energy, I had an amusing thought.
Grey would have allowed them only five minutes of rest.
—
The sun rose on a decimated hillside, the mountainous terrain absorbing the light from the distant east. But within the command tent, there was very little light beyond the torches arrayed at each of the four posts. The leaders around me radiated quiet exhaustion from the nightlong battles.
"This is a likely spot for a hidden teleportation gate, probably with a dungeon attached," I said gruffly, pointing at a spot on our map a ways from our location. "All of the camps we struck tonight have been within a twenty-five-mile radius of this location. During the recent downtime between our last assault, I scouted the land from the sky, and can say with certainty that there are dungeons in this area."
The task of the Trailblazer Division was to clear out dungeons of mana beasts regularly so the Alacryans wouldn't have an endless supply of monsters to throw at our citizens. This had become only more imperative as Agrona threw beasts across the continent, but the Division was also tasked with eliminating any teleportation gates found within the ruins of said dungeons. The Alacryans could somehow hijack those portals, allowing them to ferry troops and supplies over.
Captain Jesmiya had told me that each teleportation gate was rumored to influence all four elements of ambient mana. Combining these two factors–and the trend I'd noticed of the Alacryan camps we knew of residing in relatively small clusters of three or four at a time–hinted to me that there was likely a dungeon with teleportation gates nearby.
A quick flyby while I cycled through my earthborne form also allowed me to sense some ever-so-slight discrepancies in the earth mana in a certain radius, indicating there might be something underground.
Captain Jesmiya nodded sharply, despite the weight I saw beneath her eyelids. "Understood, Commander," she said. "Permission to gather my troops for the returning march?"
I looked over the gathered captains and lieutenants, each exhausted beyond belief. "Permission granted, soldiers," I said, allowing my baritone to carry across the tent. "But before you go…"
I considered the weary men around me, all in various states of battle exhaustion. Most were missing parts of their armor or had clearly bandaged injuries in the wake of our strikes. But there was a rekindled ember in their eyes as they looked back at me. I even allowed myself to imagine that the shadow of King Grey looming in the far corners had a mote of resolve in his eyes as well.
"You have all done well today. Long have the Alacryans nipped at our sides and taken their pound of flesh. But tonight, we've taken our first strike of vengeance," I said, raising a fist into the air as I watched the soldiers and leaders shuffle with growing anticipation and fervor. "The first of many!"
Janus Auddyr was the first to take up the cry. "The first of many!" he echoed, drawing the rest of the soldiers into a weary cheer.
I felt regret as I dismissed them from my tent once the cheer died down, ensuring that they returned to their duties.
I conjured a chair of earth, allowing myself to slump into it as my ramrod-straight posture melted away. I restrained the urge to groan as I finally began to feel the effects of all the fighting I'd done throughout the night. The only other person in the room was my hallucination of King Grey, watching me apathetically.
It was a decisive first counterattack, I thought wearily, allowing myself to run over plans I'd made. As far as I could tell, I'd executed them perfectly. It seems you still have the skills you cultivated, Arthur, but it would've been impossible with the former Council.
As Commander, Virion allowed everyone to reach a democratic decision on how to proceed with the war. The trouble was that each former monarch had ideas of how their kingdom should be run. How their troops should be distributed and their Lances assigned. All of this came together to create a ship filled with a hundred holes, each leaking water.
And when the crew was too busy shoveling out the water with buckets and broken dreams, there was nobody to steer.
Now, however? My word was law. I was King. With my direction, I was able to take quick and efficient action without being burdened by the squabbling of the Council.
Namely, Lance Thunderlord had been assigned to watch for any more reports of mana beast attacks across Sapin. That was the safest option to assign the raging man, considering his simmering anger and the unpredictable actions he might take were I to enforce anything too sharply.
There was a balance I needed to maintain with the Wykes and his aristocratic family. I didn't like him. He was brash, arrogant, and unwilling to recognize the wretch his brother had become which necessitated me putting him down. But our personal squabbles didn't matter when it came to the safety of the continent.
I'd assigned Zero and Ohmwrecker to positions along Sapin's southern border to deter any potential incursions from Seris Vritra's forces. The Scythe had managed to efficiently subsume most of Darv in the last couple of weeks in a manner that impressed even me, but I couldn't let her push any further north.
I tilted my head to the side as I sensed someone approaching from the sky. I felt a smile feather across my face as the sensation of Tess' mana brushed against mine.
I waited with growing anticipation as she settled down outside the tent, earning a few audible gasps and cries from the nearby soldiers.
It didn't take her long to brush into the tent. The newly-dubbed Lance of Elenoir pushed aside the flaps, her posture perfect and her teal gaze serene. The woman I'd known since childhood wore the sleek white uniform of the Lances, tailored to her tastes. Though a red sash stretched across her chest, drawing the eyes to the gold epaulet on her shoulder, the flow of the streamlined attire was made even more brilliant by the weave of vines and silver roses that adorned her shoulders.
She smiled slightly as she looked at me, her eyes roaming over my form. She approached slowly as I pulled myself to my feet.
And as Tess took up my entire field of view, the phantom of Grey in my background fizzled away. As I stared at her, my mind felt suddenly lighter. A weight lifted from my shoulders.
Tess narrowed her eyes as she stared at my simple gray and black attire, paltry compared to hers. "You could at least stand to use some armor, Commander Leywin," she said with annoyance.
I chuckled. "Yeah, but then you wouldn't have come close enough," I said deviously, reaching out a hand and ruffling her silver-gray hair in the way I knew annoyed her. Tess pushed my arm aside with an aggravated huff, before working desperately to try and fix her hair back into its proper place.
"Damn it, Art," she complained, pushing me away. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep dirt out of my hair during fights? And I had to use wind magic all the way here to make sure it wouldn't get ruined! And now you've just–"
I backed away slightly as she threw a fist at me, but it had no heat in it. I caught her strike, before twisting her in such a way that she was pulled closer into my arms.
The noise around us fell away as Tess realized how I was holding her. I blinked, realizing what I'd done on instinct a second too late. My body locked up as remembered hesitations surfaced in the back of my head. Tess looked back up at me.
Tess' ears drooped slightly, her arms trapped between us. There was a slightly expectant look on her face as she stared at me, and I suddenly found my mind freezing. Even if I could no longer use Absolute Zero, I felt as if the spell had been cast on my mind, freezing both my limbs and thoughts in place.
My childhood friend must have seen something in my eyes. Her eyes lingered on my lips, and I could sense what she wanted me to do. But I couldn't bring myself to acquiesce.
She finally pulled herself away slightly, a look of slight sorrow on her painted features as the moment escaped us. I turned my head to the side even as I held her close. I worked my jaw, trying to pull my thoughts into something solid. Something to distract me from the guilt in my stomach.
"Do you still see him, Art?" Tess asked quietly, running a hand along my face as her fingers tickled at my growing beard.
"No. And yes," I admitted. "When you are here, I don't see him. But I feel him in my mind. Deep inside."
Tess nodded slowly, before pushing away from me at last. I felt a strange mix of reluctance and relief at the loss of her body heat.
I felt the temptation every day. To order Tess to run and hide, far from Agrona's reach. She wouldn't be able to refuse me, either. I was King. She was my Lance.
And then the shame would swell again. Part of me wondered if Tess had done this on purpose to cause me such internal questioning. I couldn't imagine why she'd trust me so much. I had done nothing to earn it.
And there was nowhere that Agrona's claws could not reach. That understanding… That was why Tess had demanded the restrictions of the Lance artifact in the first place.
What makes you think you deserve this happiness, King Grey's phantom voice repeated, after all that you've done?
My childhood friend narrowed out her features, pushing away her worry as she adopted the mantle of Princess and Lance. "General Aya is still attending to our units as they meet up in the wake of our assaults. But I discovered information important to the war effort, so I elected to return to you as soon as possible to deliver it."
"Okay, Tess," I said, pushing away my turbulent thoughts and doubts. "What did you find?"
And then the Princess of Elenoir began to speak. I listened with rapt attention as she delivered a sharp report of her battles and assaults against her assigned Alacryan camps.
Tess had been adapting well to her new powers as a white core mage, and her growth had been visible with the use of the potential unlocking abilities of the scepter Lord Aldir had given me. But there were some notable differences to the other Lances, however, namely in how her Beast Will had interacted with the effects.
"But what instigated my rush back here was another discovery," Tess said, standing taller. "As I dispatched our enemies, Willow reacted to something. She grew angry, drawing my attention to one of the Alacryans in particular."
I leaned forward with interest. Tessia's Elderwood Guardian Will was an anomaly, even before Toren had siphoned it of corruption. But as the Lance artifact had activated, drawing forth Tess' latent potential and purifying her core, something else had happened, too.
It hadn't just drawn out the princess' potential. No, it had augmented the Will as well. As if to punctuate my thoughts, a little vine peeked out from the Lance's sleeve, separate from any normal spell.
"What did Willow sense, Tess?" I pushed, sensing the gravity in my childhood friend's words.
"The Alacyran was holding some sort of black crystal," Tess said. "I couldn't sense anything from it, at least not until I engaged my Beast Will. But then I could tell. The crystal was somehow linked to all the corrupted beasts in the area. It was controlling them. Making them docile."
My childhood friend flourished her hand, drawing something from her dimension ring. As she said, a black crystal rested there, drinking in the darkness. "I felt tempted to crush it, but considering what could be done with it…"
I felt my mind light up with possibilities as I stared down at the crystal, a smile splitting my face as I walked forward. "This is perfect, Tess," I said excitedly. "If we can manage to pick apart how these work… Not even that. Even if we don't know how they work, just the fact that we know what directs these corrupted mana beasts could change the entire course of this war!"
Tess' fingers curled around the crystal, a blush working up her pale face as she looked away from my dancing eyes. "Y-Yeah," she said, sounding flustered. "But if we get this to Gideon, then we might have a chance to heal Grandpa."
I felt my smile fall at the mention of Virion's state. I'd done all I could immediately after assuming my mantle, reaching out for any emitters I felt certain I could trust across Dicathen. I'd ordered Gideon not just to create matchlock weapons, but also to try to dissect the nature of the corrupted mana beasts. It had only been a few weeks, and progress had been… slow.
I looked down at the black crystal. Maybe, I allowed myself an ember of hope. Maybe.
Even if Virion was healed, I wouldn't be able to relinquish the mantle of King I had taken. Not with all that I'd abruptly changed and the policies I'd set in place. The binding oaths of the Lance artifacts were all tethered to me through use of the scepter Aldir had provided, and though they could be reassigned, the power could never truly return to the Council with the steps I'd taken.
But if Gramps were to awaken, then it wouldn't all just be on my shoulders.
Tess and I stood there in silence for a time, each of us in our own thoughts. But the quiet was interrupted by a slight nudge from my bond.
"Arthur," Sylvie said, "I'm coming down."
I glanced to the side, questing out with my mana sense. And a minute later, I could feel both Taci and Sylvie as they approached by air. A slight smile stretched across my face as Sylvie's draconic form pulled in her wings, diving through the clouds and down toward our location.
The low light in the command tent dipped even lower as Sylvie's massive wings blocked out the rising sun. The ground rumbled as her legs hit the ground, sending tremors through the stones and the hearts of all lesser men.
Taci, however, stayed high in the sky. I could feel the restrained anger in his intent.
Tess shifted in anticipation as she sensed Sylvie change her form. She inched closer to me, her gemstone eyes intent on the flaps of the tent.
When Sylvie pushed aside the flaps of the command tent, it was with the powerful poise of an asura. Her chin was tilted upward, emphasizing the curve of her sharp black horns. Her dark dress stood starkly against her choppy wheat-blonde hair. Her expression was serene as she entered, her amber-draconic eyes glowing in the low light.
But when she looked between me and Tess, I felt a burst of amusement and happiness over our bond. Sylvie smiled slightly, reminding me that she was still technically a young girl, even if she looked as old as I was.
"If I'm interrupting something between you two," she said slowly, "then I can just come back later."
I averted my gaze, remembering the moment Tess and I had shared a bit ago as I scratched the back of my neck. Tess, predictably, blushed all the way up to her ears. "No, no! You aren't interrupting anything," she said hastily, striding over to Sylvie. "I just didn't expect you back so soon."
Sylvie smiled knowingly, sharing a look with me as she and Tess shared a long hug. I watched the scene, feeling that kindling warmth in my chest once more. The burning ember of happiness that I was so afraid to stoke.
Watching the two together, embracing like sisters long lost, made something inside of my soul shift in a way I couldn't understand.
And then the guilt returned, burying that rising fire.
Sylvie's expression fell slightly as she sensed my emotions, separating from Tess.
"Arthur," she thought, questing out mentally. She didn't need to say anything more. I darkened our bond slightly, feeling that shame again as I did so.
It's nothing, Sylv, I said dismissively. But we need to hear your report.
Sylvie reluctantly nodded, some quiet grief shining in her eyes. "My assaults on the camps were successful," she said. "We were entirely victorious in each attack–except for the last one. There were no mana beasts stationed there, and decay-aspected mana lingered in the air there. I suspect I just barely avoided a clash with a Scythe," my bond said gravely.
My brow furrowed at this knowledge. With my current abilities, I felt confident in being able to face a Scythe, and my bond was similar. I'd intentionally sent Sylvie further south, trusting my instinct that that was where the Scythe was stationed. Taci had of course followed her, and while the young pantheon asura couldn't actually intervene in the war or fight at all, his presence would serve as a deterrent to protect Sylvie from any sort of direct clash.
But this had its own slew of implications.
"Probably Viessa Vritra," I said slowly, balancing what I knew of the two factions of Alacryans working for our subjugation on this continent. I knew a little about her abilities, courtesy of what I'd wrangled from Uto before I executed him. "But you said there were no beasts there?"
Sylvie nodded sharply. "And something else. The aether there felt… a bit strange. My edict is vivum, not spatium, so I couldn't be certain. But I think portals were opened there recently when I arrived."
"So you think that this Viessa Vritra is going around to each camp, opening portals for the beasts to travel through?" Tess said, looking with concern at my draconic bond. "It would make sense why we haven't seen her… But nothing of our intel says the Scythes have such direct control of aether."
"It's probably some sort of portal tech," I intoned, my mind flashing back to the first time I'd seen the site of a massacre in the middle of Sapin. So many dead, with both mana and aether stained red.
Even now, the sites of each massacre felt tainted whenever I visited. Stained by the atrocity.
"Did you get any lead on where Viessa might be going next?" I said, engaging the cold thinking of Grey.
Sylvie shook her head. "No, I didn't. But the traces I found were faint anyway, likely several hours old. And with the speed of flight…"
"She could be anywhere," Tess filled in, a dark cast to her features.
"Okay," I said, deciding on the next course of action. Between Sylvie's reports and Tess' discovery, there was much to do and plan for. "I'm going to send orders out shortly for our men to retreat back to the last camp, then set up tents to rest. Then we'll return to the Wall to formulate a more concrete plan."
Tess shifted, her posture becoming that of the Princess once more as talks of duty washed over her. But Sylvie showed visible reluctance.
"Arthur," she said aloud, looking suddenly nervous, "we need to talk about Taci Thyestes."