The Stubborn Skill-Grinder In A Time Loop

“There’s too many! Send out the emergency alarm right away! We need more forces deployed at sector alpha-eight! Stat!”

“By the Gods… it’s an infected tree! Fire! By the love of all you hold dear, fire!”

“We need actual bloody fire! Where are the flame cannons?! Where are the pyromancers and steam mages?!”

“We’re doomed! Barrier breach imminent!”

“Opening barrier for a quarter-second to relieve the pressure! Ready arms! Artillery on mark!”

It was chaos Orodan had returned to.

A house-sized Eldritch bear, Master-level, charged towards the ranks of the checkpoint, only to receive a high-calibre shot from the cannon of a heavy carrier, eviscerating its skull and ending its life. Two more of these bears followed; they too were peppered by the volley fire of the line infantry and their rifles, but it just wasn’t enough.

They shrugged off the low-calibre hail of bullets and were close to reaching melee distance and wreaking havoc among the Collective’s massed ranks. Even setting the risk of infection aside, ranks of bayonets wielded by soldiers who barely trained in melee were a poor matchup against creatures who honed their close-combat capabilities all their lives.

Immediately, Orodan withdrew two pebbles from his dimensional ring and sent them through the heads of the bears. They dropped dead on the spot, causing the soldiers to look around in confusion for a brief moment before the next pressing threat drew their attention.

But it had its limits. The smaller lifeforms were burned and electrified to death, but larger ones kept pressing through, crushing the bodies of the front ranks into a paste against the energy barrier. Their combined weight was akin to a horrifying tidal storm of flesh, a monstrous wave of unending proportions.

Under such pressure, the energy source powering the barrier was swiftly draining and it was at risk of breaking. To prevent outright failure the enchanters and spatiomancers in charge periodically shut it down for a quarter of a second every few minutes to allow the flood through that the soldiers might deal with them. A desperate attempt at creating sustainability in an unsustainable situation.

But where did this all come from?

The gigantic spatial rift right in front of the barrier was the answer. Leading directly to the heart of one of the plague worlds coordinating the siege of Lonvoron. An entire plague world launching the bulk of its forces right here at this random checkpoint.

Orodan doubted it was as random as it seemed.

“This can’t be a random attack. They must know about the pillars,” Zaessythra suggested.

“It has to be planned… a rift here will undo their progress elsewhere. Why pay such a price unless it’s to inflict damage in turn? Someone on the Eldritch side must have seen what the devices are potentially capable of.”

The infected inquisitor at Castle Ironpeak had known about Lord Morvale’s project even before seeing it. Naturally, the hive minds commanding the plague forms had to know that the Collective was trying to make devices capable of purging or draining the Eldritch. The plague worlds themselves suspecting the devices were a threat wasn’t the issue. What really worried Orodan was the possibility of the Prophet itself descending.

From his first loop upon Lonvoron, Orodan knew that the Prophet was after the Reject’s Administrator Mantle. Its presence and command over the Eldritch invasion of the Blackworth Collective wasn’t random. Furthermore, he knew that too much interference from the Prophet would naturally cause the Warrior to descend. Thus, in a sense, his enemy’s unwillingness to tip their hand too early was what kept things steady for now.

And while Orodan couldn’t care less about his own death, he did care about Fenton’s. One of the first few people to bear that mad zealot’s wrath would be his student, especially if it came to light how talented the boy was. And he wasn’t strong enough to keep the lad safe yet, not from a foe of the Prophet’s calibre. He had grown strong, but not yet enough that he could match an Administrator.

He sensed Fenton was further in, fighting but not yet pressed into a desperate corner. Orodan thus set off to reunite with him.

Even the path to his student was fraught with peril as the checkpoint was a battlefield. For the immediate moment the soldiers were managing to fend the plague forms off and prevent them reaching melee distance, but it was a near thing and who knew how long it would last?

An Eldritch-infected snake the size of a tree shot forward, trying to chomp down on him, only for Orodan to halt its charge with a single hand. A casual hurl sent it flying into a horde of lesser Eldritch lifeforms, relieving much of the pressure on the beleaguered defenders for a moment. He had moved quickly enough that none had witnessed his feat.

Fenton was putting up a fierce fight by the time Orodan got there. All manner of enchanted items and trinkets were out in force.

Barriers prevented the Eldritch from nearing him, enchanted devices spewed ice to immobilize the foe and slow their advance, while others belched fire and lightning to reap their lives. Everything the lad had in store had been brought out. Even the soldiers surrounding his student had realized just how important Fenton was to their survival and had consequently formed a battle group around him, acting as bodyguards and preventing lesser Eldritch lifeforms from sneaking up on him. Naturally, this relieved the pressure on Fenton and let him fight more freely.

“Protect the young master! Rally! Rally and defend our world!”

“Gods save us! That tree’s approaching! We need flames! It’s weak against fire!”

The plague forms charging the defenders had sacs of weird growths protruding from their flesh. Every time they died, these sacs would explode, spreading infectious Eldritch energies into the air. The enemy had yet to reach the battle line in melee, so it wasn’t a problem just yet, but the moment they did… mass corruption would occur.

And the creator of these sacs was now marching towards them, wondering why a particular section of the battlefront was doing so poorly no doubt.

Long ago, when Orodan Wainwright had faced the Eldritch for the very first time in his life, he had lost and been under their influence for an entire year. When he’d come to, all of the northern continent, seas included, were covered in sickening Eldritch matter. And gigantic trees pierced the clouds, spewing Eldritch energies into the air.

This tree, approaching most slowly but furiously, was the same, if a smaller version of it not yet at maturity. Like some twisted mockery of bipedal creatures, it walked upon its roots, the ground shaking as its giant form lumbered forth. Its bark was disgusting, purple-gray with the same fleshy growths and sickness he associated with the Eldritch. And most disturbingly for the soldiers present, were the faces trapped upon the surface of its skin; their fallen kin, the casualties the Collective had suffered in prior battles.

Its presence and appearance were a shock to the troops’ morale.

Orodan clapped Fenton on the shoulder as he came up from behind.

“I see you’ve gotten started on having fun without me.”

“Who- M-mister Orodan! Ser things ain’t goin’ too well!”

“I beg to differ. I see a young man standing most heroically against the plague,” Orodan praised. “Think you can kill that thing?”

“If it was just me and it, maybe. But with me havin’ to help the soldiers? Not a chance. I’m stretched thin ser, only chance we have is if we get the pillar up and activate it,” Fenton said.

Clyburn, who was tinkering with the cannon of the heavy carrier they were on, spoke up.

“What he means to say is, we’re doomed without your help Mister Wainwright. Might we trouble you to save the day once more?”

“I could… but where’s the fun in that? This is a good opportunity for training,” Orodan said. “How about this Fenton. I keep the soldiers from coming to harm, and you focus on doing what you need in order to resolve this mess. I’m confident you can get rid of the infected without me.”

“What?! But that’s-”

“Unfair? Harsh? The Eldritch is all of those things. If you’re going to be accompanying Clyburn and I into the hot zone, then this is a good warm-up,” Orodan explained. “I might not be around for every battle of yours. Learning to independently solve problems can only be a good thing.”

He would ensure no harm came to anyone, but without some pressure and live battlefield exposure to the plague, how would Fenton learn? Orodan wouldn’t always be around to protect the lad.

Orodan himself withdrew pebbles from his dimensional ring and began getting to work.

The lesser plague forms at the Elite-level and below weren’t a problem, the amassed volley fire, artillery and grenades of the soldiers handled those well enough. It was the Master-level infected animals which were the true problem; capable of soaking up fire and reaching the battle lines in melee, they could cause a chain of mass infection if not dealt with.

His thrown rocks shot out, slaying priority plague forms in singular hits. The rocks were flicked so fast that they were indistinguishable from bullets anyhow. The question of who’d done the killing would remain unsolved.

“Mister Wainwright I must protest that this is a most reckless course of action you’re taking!” Clyburn complained. “While I certainly trust Fenton, putting all our lives in his hands alone makes me feel rather uncomfortable!”

“At ease. I’m not about to allow anyone here to die or face infection. Just don’t let Fenton know that,” Orodan said with a devious smile. “Now what’s this modification you’re attempting on the cannon? Trying to make it fire a stronger shot? The metal won’t hold… let me have a look.”

And as Fenton was put through his paces, so too did Orodan embrace the challenge of speed-smithing under battlefield conditions, all while having to periodically chuck pebbles at any strong Eldritch monsters which got too close to the troops.

[Teaching 74 → Teaching 75]

Given some breathing room, Fenton began showing his worth. Immediately, a third of Fenton’s mana pool drained as a powerful enchanted ring on the boy’s finger was activated. A blazing torrent of fire, in tandem with a flammable tar-like substance spewed out.

A terrible shriek went out across the battlefield, causing the soldiers to cover their ears and some to go down. The slow moving infected tree, a frontline commander of the Eldritch, was lit on fire and began madly thrashing in an attempt to get the flames off.

Of course, the attempts to shuck it off only succeeded in causing the sticky and flammable substance to spread to other parts of its corrupted form; its thrashing had the consequence of killing nearby plague forms too. The Master-level bears were greater threats in direct combat. The tree was a Master-level creature, not specialized for combat, but infection and growth which allowed it to eventually conquer the landscape.

It might not have been exceptionally fast or strong, but it was resilient. Despite the fiery assault it yet lived, though its infectious nature was now nullified since all the airborne Eldritch energies it had been spewing were burnt down.

“Good work young Fenton! Now come help us with this cannon that we might finish it off!” Clyburn called.

As Fenton rushed towards the heavy carrier, Orodan was in the final leg of swiftly flash-heating the metal and rapidly re-arranging the particulate structure of the cannon’s barrel.

His minds strained, working to bring the barrel’s integrity up to par so that it could survive a shot of dramatically increased power. Blacksmithing under time constraints was far harder than he’d thought, especially when quality also mattered and getting anything wrong meant the entire barrel blowing up.

[Blacksmithing 69 → Blacksmithing 70]

[New Title → Blacksmithing Elite]

Yet it was a trial which came with benefits. As Fenton reached them, success was achieved.

“That was mighty quick of you ser, now let’s see if we can’t enchant the shot a bit…”

Within three seconds, Fenton had the cannonball enchanted for dramatically improved power.

Three seconds… that time was ludicrous! Orodan was used to Fenton working upon the enchantments for the pillars of purification. The enchantments on those devices were intricate and some of the lad’s best work. But he couldn’t recall the last time he’d actually seen the boy do a regular enchantment. Here and now, Orodan had to admit to being impressed.

Perhaps Fenton’s enchanting speed was the key to reversing this situation?

“Cannon loaded! Fire!”

The cannon went off with a deafening roar. Previously, the cannons of the heavy carriers could only wound the Master-level tree. Now though… there was no longer a tree.

“We got it!” Fenton cheered, and the rest of the soldiers also whooped and hollered at the sight of a powerful plague form being brought down.

Of course, the celebration was far too premature.

A Grandmaster-level infected tree, the apparent leader of the horde, wasn’t happy at one of its underlings being slain so instantly. It roared in rage and directed more forces towards the barrier. Two more infected trees were now menacingly striding forwards, looking to reach the battle lines and cross the barrier in the next ten minutes. Furthermore, the soldiers defending the checkpoint were still locked in a struggle, desperately unloading as much firepower as they could to prevent the foe reaching them in melee.

Still, it wasn’t an entirely lost situation. A steam mage and her two supporting pairs of water and fire mages came to the fore, and a nearby ranging patrol of three steam knights and carriers had also returned to the checkpoint to reinforce the defenders. It was just a bit more assistance, but if Fenton played his cards right, the lad could hold this spot until further reinforcements arrived.

“Bloody hell… there’s just too many Mister Orodan! They got two more of those foul trees comin’ up too! We should really focus on activatin’ the pillars ser!”

Orodan looked at the young man. In him, there was potential. It simply needed to be developed.

But for that, hardship and adversity were required. After all, the test of fire and brimstone was what forged the strongest steel.

“I think Fenton… that you’re more than capable of turning this fight around conventionally. Until a Transcendent shows up, I hereby bar you from using the pillars,” Orodan ordered.

“…what?!”

Both Clyburn and Fenton looked utterly aghast at the demand. They had mostly gotten used to Orodan’s madness, but this was a step too far for even them.

“T-that’s… insane! Treatin’ a real battle like it’s a training excercise will get us all killed ser!” Fenton protested. “We can’t face that many, that’s the forces of a whole plague world! It’s impossible!”

“Impossibility is a concept embraced by realists and those who’ve given up. Tell me, Fenton Penny… have you given up?” Orodan asked. “The plague will eventually consume all of Lonvoron. It’s defeat should by all accounts also be impossible. Do you accept this loss? Will you be a realist?”

“I… no… I won’t,” Fenton said. “But there’s just so many of them!”

“A warrior should not lose hope even at the sight of impossible odds. Tell me Fenton, how long did it take you to enchant that cannonball?”

“A few seconds… why ser?”

“If you alone will not suffice, then have you considered helping those around you?” he asked. “Perhaps your enchanting speed and innovation can reverse the situation yet.”

Fenton’s eyes narrowed, determination blazing in them as the lad took the situation in.

“Steam knights… guns… sharpshooters,” Fenton muttered. “You’re right Mister Orodan, maybe this can work after all. But I’ll need your help ser, as a craftsman I mean.”

“By all means, lead the way. This will be good training for me too.”

Orodan had to admit, he was in fact somewhat mad. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a method to his madness. For starters, he’d been closely watching the movements of the Eldritch for a while now. They were sending out cheap, expendable fodder in the form of infected animals, hordes of chaff and a scant few Master-level trees which were more suited for infection than direct combat.

The plague worlds assailing Lonvoron had decent frontline troops, Grandmaster specialists, mages and Transcendent-level generals of the invasion. Yet neither of these had made any appearance so far.

The likely answer was that they were smart enough to fear Fenton’s device. They might not have known the full extent of what it could do, but they were wisely wary all the same. The spatial rift too, was in a state of partial opening. The swarms coming through were certainly in the thousands, but not the world-threatening hordes of tens of thousands that he knew these plague worlds could actually spew out.

The pillars of purification could stop the current assault, but not much more than that, not if the plague worlds shut the rifts down upon seeing how effective they were. The pillars were quite potent, but not anywhere near Orodan’s own Celestial skill which could purge the entirety of the Eldritch in the divine dimension instantly at full power. It would take time for them to work.

The enemy’s spatial rift needed to open a bit further. They needed to feel comfortable with the idea of committing to a greater assault.

If the enemy saw Fenton and Clyburn rushing to immediately activate the device, they would doubtlessly become wary. But what if the battle drew on for a while as they made no move to activate it?

Perhaps there was a way, and Orodan eyed the Collective’s overworked spatiomancers inquisitively as the beginnings of a plan started to brew.

Orodan followed Fenton as he rushed over to the ranks of massed line infantry who were desperately firing volley after volley into the ranks of the advancing Eldritch. Yet the lad’s target wasn’t the average soldier… but the sharpshooters in the back.

“It’s the young master! He’s come to help us!”

“Your rifle, can I see it?” Fenton asked.

The woman handed it over a bit hesitantly, and frowned as Fenton handed it to Orodan.

“Can you make it a bit tougher at these joints ser? Here, here and…”

He got to work right away.

Fenton’s demands were rather stringent, and Orodan found his Blacksmithing and Engineering pressed in a way they had never been before. Orodan had studied how the guns, vehicle and steam engineering of the Blackworth Collective worked, but performing modifications under a harsh time limit was a different matter entirely. Under the duress of battle, with time on the line, he was forced to work quickly, and this naturally led to gains.

Using Blacksmithing to strengthen an already enchanted weapon was difficult. Orodan had to be careful in order to ensure the original inscriptions were preserved. Certainly not something that could be done in seconds.

“Fenton, with enchantments on this I might need a little more time to-”

His student’s hand waved over the rifle, cancelling all the enchantments upon it.

Never mind. No need to work around enchantments if they were no longer there.

Orodan swiftly got to work heating the rifle up and arranging the particles into optimal position. His mind strained, he focused hard; it was as though he was fitting an hour of high-quality work into a meagre time frame. Even with reaction times and hand speed which were superior to just about anything else on Lonvoron, it took him almost ten seconds of real time. Still too long in his opinion, but it was as rushed of a job as he could achieve without sacrificing quality.

The forced urgency of the task came with its benefits though.

[Blacksmithing 70 → Blacksmithing 71]

As soon as the rifle was ready, with another pass-over, Fenton re-applied enchantments of his own. Orodan stared on in wonder as fine and intricate threads of mana were inscribed upon the weapon. Each thread could’ve been an excellent enchantment of its own, but Fenton then went and combined all of these into an overarching inscription which made Orodan’s head spin at its compexity.

The rifle was then practically thrown into the sharpshooter’s hands.

She gave it a test shot, half her mana pool emptying in an instant. But in turn…

…an Eldritch-infected bear, Master-level, died instantly.

“By the Gods…!”

Previously, even a full volley from the entire infatry formation couldn’t kill one instantly. And now just a single shot from a sharpshooter’s rifle could? A game changer.

“No time to talk! You! Give me yours!” Fenton shouted.

The soldier hastily complied, seeing the obvious results, and Orodan then knew what his role in this was.

His left hand began glowing with a Draconic Fireball and his cells strained to fit as much thought, skill and motion into each instant he had. The metal of the rifle was melted down and reforged anew, far stronger. And Fenton then swiftly laid enchantments upon it once again before throwing it back.

With just two newly equipped sharpshooters, the situation dramatically eased up. With these crack shots taking down Master-level plague forms, the regular line infantry volleys now solely focused on the approaching chaff. The approaching tide actually began to be pushed back, and soon enough the group of Eldritch on the defenders’ side of the barrier were almost entirely eliminated.

The checkpoint commander’s eyes widened as he took in what was occurring, and to his credit the man was adaptable and knew what to do.

“Runners! Fetch the entire store of recovery elixir! Keep our sharpshooters topped up! Barrier corps! Open the barrier and send in another wave! We’re killing them too quick and the troops are getting bored!”

The soldiers raucously laughed and cheered in response, their spirits high. The team of overworked mages maintaining the beleaguered barrier were also in high spirits. Letting the barrier up early meant that the energy reserves wouldn’t be drained as fast, and they would have a further break!

Fenton could do this, Orodan knew it.

Enchanting was good for the individual fighter, yes, but for an army? It was a force multiplier. Especially when paired with a cosmically talented enchanter like Fenton Penny. The original Fenton Penny didn’t have the physical conditioning, expanded mana pool and theoretical instruction necessary to truly tap into his talent. Most importantly, the boy must not have had the motivation.

But here and now, in this loop, Orodan was determined to ensure that the lad’s talent wasn’t wasted. Adeltaj, Arvayne, Destartes… they were Orodan’s teachers. They had drawn the potential out of him, they had believed in him and had never believed he couldn’t do something.

This was simply him paying that favor forward and doing the same for another.

“Quick Mister Orodan! Let’s fix up the guns of the other three marksmen!”

Orodan gladly followed, gaining one more level in Blacksmithing at the rapid work as they finished up working on the rifles of every sharpshooter in the company.

Next, Fenton’s eyes were drawn to the trio of steam knights which were firing upon the ranks of the approaching plague.

“Think you want them reforged too?” Orodan asked.

“Maybe after the battle ser, for now I think I can handle those meself,” Fenton replied.

“Alright, you do that. I need to have a word with the spatiomancers,” Orodan informed, and at the lad’s curious look then elaborated. “Activating the device now would stop the current assault, but look at the rift, it’s tightly controlled and can be easily closed. The enemy will simply cut the connection if we activate the two devices right this instant.”

Fenton’s eyes widened.

“If we keep holdin’ out, they might get mad enough to open it further and send someone important out… wait, is that why you’re approachin’ the spatiomancers?” Fenton asked.

“Aye, leave that part to me,” Orodan said. “Just focus on holding out and keeping the battle lines secure. You’re on the right track Fenton.”

Orodan could have easily done it himself, but overpowering an enemy plague world’s power output would blow his cover. It was necessary to coordinate with the spatiomancers so he could deflect the credit towards them.

The checkpoint’s fortification wasn’t overly large, but it certainly was busy. There were a handful of guards nervously keeping watch even as they looked upon the arrayed ranks of the Collective outside and anxiously tracked the state of the battle. Runners, young boys sprinting to ferry supplies back and forth, were madly scrambling to do their part.

And inside the fortification was a command room, inside of which were six spatiomancers. Their faces were utterly haggard, skin pale as the mental exhaustion was taking its toll upon them. Immediately, Orodan saw why.

Not only were these stalwart mages preventing the spatial rift from moving past the barrier, but they were also blocking the utter storm of Eldritch spatiomancers on the other side of the spatial rift who were attempting to teleport plague forms into or behind the Collective’s battle formation. Of course, six spatiomancers alone couldn’t do such a job, and Orodan saw a relay which connected this checkpoint to other ones on the perimeter of the hot zone and all across Lonvoron. There were even relays connecting to the capital of Storven and the main war camp of the Collective in the center of the hot zone.

The spatiomancers from these other locations were also helping remotely from a great distance. However the main problem was that these six spatiomancers, due to being right here at the site of the battle, bore the greatest share of the burden. The relays through which allied spatiomancers across Lonvoron were aiding these six were under constant assault by probing strikes of the Eldritch’s own spatiomancers.

As the main army fought the plague outside conventionally, these brave and resilient men and women fought their own shadow war here. A battle within a battle, one which Orodan wasn’t about to allow the enemy to win.

The lead spatiomancer, a man with features so delicate Orodan initially thought him a woman, glared at him.

“This area is off-limits, who are you?” the mage demanded, casting a series of spells into a device meant for long range amplification of one’s magic.

“Someone here to help. I can see you lot are rather beleaguered, let me relieve some of that burden,” Orodan said. “The main problem is the constant assault upon your relay, yes? If that’s cut off this entire checkpoint falls as the six of you are no match for an entire plague world’s worth of infected spatiomancers. I can see it’s not in good condition either…”

“Who is this man? The Eldritch have been sneaking spies into places lately, he might be one-”

“Enough. If he was a spy or assassin we would have been attacked by now. Nothing of value is held here and we have little else to lose besides our lives and souls. I shall be glad of any help at such a grim juncture where we are on the precipice of failure already. I am Enias Weller,” the lead spatiomancer introduced. “Your words are true stranger. The plague’s commanders know that this relay is all that keeps us from falling. Before even the rift opened, we were the first ones to know, and two of my colleagues suffered grievous mental backlash in their noble effort to prevent the spatial rift opening on this side of the barrier. The plague targeted us first, and they nearly took out the relay too. Not only did they damage its teleportation function, preventing the quick arrival of reinforcements, but their spatiomancers are also waiting like lurking predators, ready to interfere with any attempts by our forces outside the battlefield to teleport in to aid us.”

“Then what if I fixed the relay?” Orodan asked, looking at the device. It was made decently enough, but Orodan could do better. “And some of the pressure was taken off your mages?”

“That… would certainly be appreciated ser, but how can you do this? We’re perhaps five minutes away from another of our number collapsing from mental strain, and then we’ll certainly lose the spatiomancy battle we’ve been engaged in,” Enias said. “Utter doom awaits us then.”

“Leave it to me. The wood and metal this relay’s made of are rather shoddy…”

Orodan got to work.

A Candleflame heated the metallic part of the device, while Wood Communion spoke to the wooden bits. The enchantments were mainly upon the metal parts, and this was where Orodan had to tread carefully. Earlier, Fenton had helped him duck the problem of working on metal which had existing enchantments upon it.

Now though, Orodan would have to confront the matter. As Candleflame heated the metal, he kept a close eye on the inscriptions upon it. Reforging an enchanted item while maintaining the inscription was difficult and sensitive work, not something he could rush like he had with the rifles of the sharpshooters.

Over the course of a minute, Orodan had to carefully melt and rearrange the metal particles, section-by-section, while ensuring the enchantments remained unaffected. Temperature hot enough to melt industrial-grade steel was also hot enough to affect the structure of an enchantment and its mana pathways. As a result, Orodan found himself frequently utilizing not just his Blacksmithing, but also his Mana Manipulation skill to keep the pathways unaffected.

And during that time, he also found that whatever the enemy spatiomancers did during their initial spatial battle had also caused some slight damage to the enchantment itself. Not a good sign, for Orodan was no Fenton Penny who could alter enchantments on the fly and determine the best way to fix them.

A minute had passed, and he was finally done the metallic part of the relay.

[Mana Manipulation 62 → Mana Manipulation 63]

[Teaching 75 → Teaching 76]

On the bright side, the skill gain in Teaching came from Fenton’s work on the steam knights. He must’ve successfully used a concept Orodan had taught him. The battle outside appeared to be going quite well as the lad had just finished enchanting the steam knights who were now acting as a door-stopping front line for the line infantry firing from behind them.

While steam knights could certainly function in that role even before Fenton’s do-over, in a desperate battle of attrition where the enemy’s forces were virtually limitless, preserving them was far more important. Now though, their armor was tough, and capable of taking more of a beating against the lesser plague forms.

His student’s success was well and good, but Orodan still had some more work before him.

Wood Communion went out and began speaking to the wood composing the relay.

The older the wood, the harder it was to mold and manipulate using Wood Communion, and the wood for this spatial relay was definitely made of aged and sturdy stuff. But, before his iron will it bent as easily as grass in a storm.

[Wood Communion 67 → Wood Communion 68]

Under his guidance and mentoring, the wood grains tightened themselves. Becoming sturdy and capable of holding parts of the enchantment better. Yet, Orodan still felt it wasn’t enough.

Yes, he’d fixed the physical make-up, but the enchantment was still damaged. At most, Orodan’s improvements guaranteed that such a surprise assault couldn’t damage the enchantments again, but it didn’t solve the currently damaged inscriptions.

Touching up the resilience of the wood had taken him another minute, and the weakest of the spatiomancers was looking exceedingly exhausted, as though she would drop at any moment. Orodan could fix the enchantment, but it would take time, longer than the gravely exhausted woman had.

Chronomancy and his Blessing were out of the picture lest he bring upon himself the previous looper or even the Prophet’s notice. The timeline was doubtlessly being monitored.

He was wracking his head, trying to find a solution when Fenton barged in.

“There you are! Mister Orodan the steam knights need-”

“I’m on it. Let’s swap places,” he replied, dragging the lad over to the relay. “Fix the enchantment on this.”

He swiftly strode out to see that the fury of the enemy’s assault had exponentially increased. The spatial rift leading to the plague world had also stabilized, expanding in size. A greater number of enemies, and more powerful plague forms were now coming through.

It seemed the Eldritch were indeed biting down on the feint. Of course, this came at the expense of drastically increased pressure on the troops.

“We can’t stop an entire plague world! Where are the reinforcements?! Where’s the King?!”

“Grandmaster hog! I repeat, Grandmaster hog! Unload everything on it before it gains speed!”

Not just Masters, but now a weak Grandmaster-level boar had made its way past the barrier. It was currently being suppressed with copious amounts of fire, but even the sharpshooters were having a hard time outright killing it for it had a regenerative skill. Grandmaster-level creatures, particularly those specializing in melee combat, were terrifying fast too. If the gunfire upon it let up for even a moment, the odds of it reaching the formation quicker than any of the soldiers could react was high.

If Fenton hadn’t given the sharpshooters an upgrade prior to its appearance, the entire battle line would be shattered by now.

Of course, the gunfire being diverted towards the pig meant that the Master-level creatures were now free to charge. The steam knights stoppering the advance were sturdy, but under the assault of not just chaff but Master-level plague forms, were beginning to take a serious pounding.

Orodan walked up to the commander of the checkpoint.

“Get me as many steel plates as you have and order the steam knight on the left to be brought back here,” Orodan said, and then looked to Clyburn. “Leave the firing of that cannon to one of the soldiers. I’ll need your expertise if we’re to get this done quick.”

Clyburn understood the urgency of the situation and dutifully rushed over, and as he did the commander barked orders.

“Runners! As many steel plates as we have! Engineers! Call Model 784 back here now!”

As the steam knight began returning, the pressure on the remaining two golems significantly increased. Time was limited and Orodan had to work fast, but that was fine since he had Clyburn next to him.

The returning steam knight had a decent amount of Eldritch matter all over its form, and Orodan hit it with an encompassing but low-power Draconic Fireball to burn it off lest any of the nearby soldiers be infected.

“Mister Wainwright, will you be reforging the knight?” Clyburn asked.

“Aye, but I’ll need your help with the Engineering. I’d normally do it myself, but when on such a strict time limit I’m not sure I’d prove equal to the task,” Orodan replied, immediately melting the steam knight’s plates down one by one, careful to leave Fenton’s expert enchanting untouched. “Hmm… smart lad, he made these enchantments with some leeway in case I reforged the knight. Good foresight. Made them heat-resistant too, so I won’t have to worry overly much about damaging the enchantment.”

“Since you’re melting the pieces down… I’ve always wanted to try a modification or two,” Clyburn said with an excited smile.

Orodan melted the plates down as per Clyburn Anderthorn’s specifications, drilling additional holes for reinforcing screws and sprockets in certain places. Yet, he didn’t follow only the engineer’s directions, instead adding some twists and flairs of his own. He was an expert at melee combat, who better to modify the armor of a golem meant for close combat than Orodan? Angles here, slopes there, deceptive structuring at certain points… all of his knowledge of what made something deadly in melee was poured into the steam knight. The steel plates the runners brought him were used to forge additional components which Clyburn began assembling into a weapon.

Orodan gained a level each in Engineering and Artificing. It was the fastest session of rushed construction and smithing that he had ever engaged in, yet even then it took a full two minutes of work. But the results were worth it as the soldiers looked upon the hulking metal golem incredulously. It certainly wasn’t the standard steam knight they were used to.

Just in time too, as Fenton came rushing out the fortification.

“Relay’s ready ser! The mages don’t look too good…” Fenton muttered, trailing off as he laid eyes upon the refurbished steam knight. “Bugger… what’s this?”

“Something which can turn the tide of this battle,” Orodan answered. “With your enchantments, Clyburn’s tinkering and my metalwork, this should be quite the sight. Order this out and send the other two knights inside the fortification. And Fenton…”

“Yes ser?”

“Be ready to activate the pillar soon.”

With those final words Orodan once more entered the command room where the spatiomancers were furiously at work. They looked exhausted to their cores, but the pressure had alleviated a bit now that the relay was fixed.

And not just fixed, but vastly improved. To the point that with Orodan’s sturdy construction and Fenton’s expert enchanting, the mages didn’t even need to defend it from the remote spatiomancy attacks of the Eldritch.

“Stranger! The young master you serve came by and fixed the relay!” Enias Weller exclaimed. “But we’re still facing a desperate battle here. At most, we’ve acquired a few minutes of time.”

“A few minutes will be enough,” Orodan said. “Let’s see what I can do…”

Vision of Purity told him that there was some alchemical equipment and materials in a nearby shelf. Orodan grabbed it off the wall alongside ingredients he felt were suitable for what he was trying to accomplish. The mages’ exhaustion was natural, but it wasn’t a problem the wizards and spellcasters of his world faced.

Mainly because Alastaia was a world where martial might and sorcery developed in tandem. On Lonvoron though, it was a surprise to learn that their understanding of the body’s physical limits was far less developed than that of his world. Understandable, given that people here used guns, machines and magic for combat… but shocking all the same that his vastly underdeveloped world knew the simple alchemical solution to the sort of mental strain these mages were undergoing.

A basic stamina potion.

He swiftly prepared the ingredients, finely chopping the herbs, perfectly crushing the mushrooms into a granular mixture, and then mixing them into a juice which was ready to be empowered.

And with a subtle gesture from his hand, Orodan’s mana shot forth and enveloped the mixture, even as he kept careful control to ensure it didn’t take on any unwanted changes.

[Alchemy 72 → Alchemy 73]

Enias Weller looked at the concoction process with surprise, and a glint of suspicion in his eyes.

Immediately, Orodan cupped some into a ladle and marched towards the lead spatiomancer.

“What’s this? Hey w-”

The ladle’s contents were forced down Enias’s throat, causing him to cough.

“Assassin! I was right!”

“No you idiot! Why would he march over just to force a ladle of potion down his throat?”

Enias though, opened his eyes. They were clear, no longer bloodshot, and a certain vigor seemed to have filled the man.

“By the crown… what is this feeling? It’s as though I could wrestle a tree! Everyone! Drink this immediately!”

One by one, the spatiomancers in the command room chugged the stamina potion and experienced an immediate improvement to their condition. Even the two who were out of commission recovered enough that they could slowly begin helping again.

“Strange ser… I know not who you are, but you have our gratitude. We are, all of us, replenished in mind and spirit thanks to you,” the lead spatiomancer said.

“Replenished in body you mean,” Orodan clarified. “Your mana pools were fine, you’ve certainly been drinking enough of that recovery elixir for it. But people forget that just as a traveller’s legs may become weary from walking all day, so too may a mage’s brain become exhausted from focusing too hard or for too long.”

And while he no longer had a physical brain, he still knew that prolonged periods of stress or extreme activity, could fatigue it just like anything else. Stamina potions weren’t unheard of on Lonvoron, but it seemed the Collective’s military didn’t realize that keeping them on hand for such situations was necessary.

Plus…

…Orodan’s unfairly empowered potion was far better than what most alchemists on this planet could achieve.

“We have a fighting chance now, thank you, thank you! Let’s show these wretched mages of the plague what real spatiomancers can do!” Enias roared.

The space mages in the command room cheered and they began casting a battery of spells to counter the Eldritch. It wasn’t that these six mages were suddenly turning the fray themselves, but that their focus on stringent defense and the improved relay now meant that other spatiomancers from other locations on Lonvoron could dedicate more to the offense.

Outside, the advancing ranks of the Eldritch were in disarray. Not only was the refurbished steam knight ripping an absolute swath through them and enduring the punishment of even the Master-level plague forms without damage, but it was also wrestling the Grandmaster-level infected boar and holding its ground. Using the breathing room, Fenton had begun enchanting the guns of the regular line infantry to devastating effect. Volleys of withering fire reduced charging swarms into piles of corpses which hit the ground the moment they passed the barrier.

And of course, the situation became even more untenable for the attacking plague forms as groups of Blackworth Collective infantry and war machines suddenly began teleporting into the battlefield; courtesy of the spatiomancers.

Reinforcements at last.

“Now let’s attack that damned rift and narrow it down!” Enias ordered.

But Orodan had other plans.

“About that… would you mind leaving the rift be for now?” Orodan asked.

“Leave the rift be? Strange ser… every moment it remains expanded is another moment for more plague forms to flood in.”

“You see, that’s all part of the plan, let me explain what the devices we have are capable of…”

The spatiomancers found Orodan’s plan to be the utter height of madness. Needless to say they were all against it…

…until Enias Weller spoke up on his behalf and got behind it.

“All of you are right, this is utter madness and lunacy… but for how long have we been battling the plague? If this works, if these devices truly are as effective as our benefactor says they are… then do we not owe it to our people to strike the greatest possible blow we can with them?” the lead spatiomancer asked, silencing the dissenters. “I am tired of fighting and wish to return home, to be with my family! Am I alone in wanting this?”

“Lord Weller… you shame us… very well, we’re with you!”

“Follow Lord Weller’s lead!”

“Alright stranger, you have our cooperation and you’ll have your mad plan… but the timing of this must be precise, so I will come out with you,” the lead spatiomancer said.

Fine by him. Orodan and Enias Weller left the command tent and the situation was a lot better. Fenton even had a grin on his face as the lad sprung over.

“Mister Orodan! We’re winnin’ ser!”

“Good job Fenton, I knew you could do it,” Orodan replied. “The enemy doesn’t look too happy either.”

Indeed, the Eldritch-infected Grandmaster tree was not happy. Dozens of its Master-level underlings had fallen already and the unending hordes of chaff were proving to be quite ineffective at breaking through the arrayed ranks of soldiers guarding the checkpoint.

The spatial rift leading to the plague world had expanded to its full size now, and Orodan could sense hundreds of infected spatiomancers on the other side working to stabilize the rift and keep it open.

And out of the rift came a heavily armored knight, purple-gray corruption emanating off his body. This was one of the invasion’s Transcendent-level generals, one of the mightiest beings the invaders had access to, a peak-Transcendent. The Eldritch knight’s eyes were white, but it still appeared to retain some level of intelligence despite the corruption. A tranquil fury was in its eyes as it swept over the battlefield and levelled a predatory look towards Fenton Penny, who it identified as being the reason for this delay.

It drew its sword.

Not good. The barrier wasn’t meant to last for long against a Transcendent.

“Fenton, how long till you can raise the pillar?” Orodan asked.

“Thirty seconds ser! But… I might need a little more time. I’ve got a lot of ideas over the course of this scrap, and I think I can make the pillar just a bit better.”

“Had a flash of inspiration did you? Good… I’ll leave the pillar to you then. I’ll be with the barrier mages,” Orodan said and then looked to Enias. “Stay with Fenton. His readiness will be your signal.”

Enias nodded, and Orodan made towards the small group of mages and enchanters closely monitoring the barrier and continually topping off its power supply.

The barrier team were in good spirits as the military was managing to do its job and hold well against the tide. Of course, as Orodan reached, a loud crash of magical energies occurred and a deafening boom tore through the air.

The infected Transcendent knight’s blade sent out a horrible wave of fell power which smashed into the barrier and nearly bottomed out the energy battery supplying it as cracks began to form from the power of the blow.

“Barrier integrity critical! We’re down to three percent power reserves!” one barrier specialist frantically called out. “We can’t take another hit like that! Battery won’t fill quick enough either!”

“We need more mana crystals! Stat!” the senior barrier mage yelled. “You! Fetch more mana crystals! Now!”

“Aye, I can do that,” Orodan said, grabbing a nearby box. He brought it over to the energy battery and poured them down a grinder-like mechanism which crushed them to deliver the energy.

But really, all this was a guise for his hand being placed upon the battery.

In but an instant, the battery was at a hundred percent capacity.

Just in time too as another deafening boom rang out. The follow-up sword wave of Eldritch power from the enemy’s Transcendent general smashed against the barrier.

“We’re doomed! We’re… eh?”

“The barrier’s still holding?”

The senior barrier mage looked at the energy battery and did a double take.

“What the hell? Was that a crate of some special stuff? What did they send us?” a junior barrier mage questioned, bewildered.

“Don’t question it! Load more into the battery! All of you, get to hauling more crystals!” the senior mage ordered. “It’s going to hit the barrier again!”

More workers came by, also joining Orodan in throwing crates of mana crystals into the crusher which pulped them. Under the cover of these additional hands, his task of inconspicuously filling the battery was made even easier.

Two more loud booms erupted. And now the enemy’s Transcendent general frowned in confusion. It must have realized something was amiss.

A guttural call erupted from its mouth and two more peak-Transcendents emerged from the spatial rift which by now was even bigger. Together they marched right up to the barrier, weapons raised.

Hopefully Fenton could speed it up. Or else Orodan was going to have to blow his cover.

Three Transcendent-level attacks struck the barrier, and Orodan’s eyes glowed the barest hint of white as he poured in more energy than the battery could handle.

The barrier held, but the same couldn’t be said for the battery.

“Bloody hell… how did the barrier take that? I must be dreaming!”

“The battery! It’s cracked!”

“Where are the reinforcements?! They were popping in and suddenly stopped coming? What’s going on?”

The man was correct to be suspicious about that. After all, as Orodan and Enias had agreed…

…the checkpoint’s spatial relay had its teleportation function shut down, right in-sync with a powerful remote assault by the Eldritch spatiomancers on the other side of the rift. All part of the feint to make them think that they’d managed to do it, when really, it was all part of the plan.

And it was a good thing too that Fenton was now beginning to finish up and one of the pillars was beginning to rise, hoisted to an upright position by the two free steam knights whose role was being covered by the singular upgraded one.

Orodan was atop a hill, and Fenton looked to him and their eyes met.

The lad nodded.

It was time.

The checkpoint’s spatial relay suddenly failed. And at the same time, the next triple strike from the enemy’s Transcendents caused the barrier to shatter. Everything went wrong at once…

…or so it seemed.

Only now was the large metallic pad beneath one of the pillars of purification visible to the naked eye. Heavily enchanted for one purpose… kinetic force.

“For Lonvoron!” Fenton yelled, throwing his entire mana pool into the enchantment as the pillar went flying right towards the spatial rift like a bullet.

But of course, complications occurred at the last moment. A peak-Transcendent was no slow buffoon prone to surprise, even the weakest Transcendent was a legend of their world with equally impressive abilities of their own.

The Eldritch knight’s shield flared with power, causing the pillar to suddenly stop mid-air and begin falling to the ground.

“Damn! I hadn’t accounted for that!” Fenton yelled, face pale.

That was fine. His student had indeed done as asked and held out until the enemy Transcendents arrived. And not just one either, but three total.

Now, it was his turn to act.

Just as the Prophet was the shadowy figure behind the Eldritch, acting at key opportunities but remaining hidden otherwise…

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

…so too would Orodan now be the hidden dagger the foul servants of the plague never saw coming.

“Fenton, I need a distraction. Make sure nobody sees me,” Orodan said.

Using Incipience of Infinity upon this many people would not only cause his shield of Fate Disconnect to break and the tapestry of fate to violently rock, but it would also draw the Prophet and previous looper’s attentions.

Yet, Orodan had faith in Fenton. Trust which wasn’t unwarranted as the lad produced a large spherical device. It looked like a grenade but was the size of high-calibre cannonball.

Placed into the hands of a steam knight, it was thrown into the air, where a deafening and blinding burst of brilliant white light disoriented almost everyone on the battlefield.

Orodan though, didn’t need his eyes to see.

And as the falling pillar of purification, a device the size of a giant castle tower, was caught in his outstretched hand, he used a relevant skill to send it towards the spatial rift.

After all… was this giant pillar not just a giant halberd ready to be thrown?

[Halberd Throw 51 → Halberd Throw 53]

The Eldritch knight’s eyes widened. Its shield was desperately raised but it was utterly pointless. Not only was Orodan’s target the spatial rift, but he made certain to aim his throw so that it specifically hit the enemy knight first on its way to the rift.

Orodan’s Halberd Throw was at the Adept-level, his Physical Fitness approaching Grandmastery, and his Body Tempering Elite. He was no scholar who sequestered himself in a tower and theorized strategies for the time loops. He was a warrior whose entire life was forged with hard work, sweat and violence. Orodan wasn’t at the Embodiment-level yet, but the Warrior aside, few existences in the cosmos were his equal in raw physicality.

His raw strength synergized with martial technique was utterly overwhelming.

The Transcendent Eldritch knight’s shield was raised, but it was entirely useless. The pillar struck with force enough to utterly eradicate planets. The knight and the two peak-Transcendents beside it were vaporized, and the pillar carried on barely slowed as it entered the spatial rift leading to the core of the enemy plague world.

A second passed…

…and a shriek of terrifying proportions erupted. The very ground was blown apart and the swarms of Eldritch near the portal were partially vaporized by the volume of the roar.

Abruptly, the portal closed.

Just in time for the blinding flash of light and sound from Fenton’s excessively large flashbang to also clear.

“What the hell happened? Anyone have eyes on the situation?” the checkpoint commander ordering the formation called out. “Who the hell threw that giant flashbang?!”

“Sir… the rift…”

“What about it?” the commander asked, still rubbing his eyes to recover his sight. “Has it expanded further?!”

“N-no sir… it’s… it’s gone.”

The man stopped rubbing his eyes and walked forward, trying to get a better look despite the blurry vision. And then his eyes widened as he confirmed the sight.

Slowly, the mutters began, and everyone looked towards Fenton Penny, shock and awe evident in their eyes.

“…young master.”

“Penny? Never heard the name… a noble house from the islands?”

“So young too… is that what talent looks like?”

A horn rang out across the battlefield as the commander made a singular declaration.

“Soldiers of Lonvoron! The spatial rift has been closed!”

Cheers and cries of victory took over the air. And interestingly enough, the army began chanting Fenton’s name too, something which caused the lad to shrink in on himself out of embarrassment.

Orodan walked up and clapped the lad on the back.

“By the hells that was some excellent work!” he praised.

“We’re alive Mister Orodan! Well… we probably would’ve died without you hurlin’ that pillar, but we did it!” Fenton exclaimed, pepping up at the sight of him. “It feels wrong for you to go unrecognized ser, but I suppose I can understand why you don’t want that.”

“I’ve gone long enough having people clamor over me. Sometimes with negative consequences too,” Orodan admitted, thinking of the long loop where the entire galaxy knew he was the time looper. “I think it’s your time to take the stage. Given the way the commander’s approaching you, you might well be made nobility on the spot.”

“I don’t want to be a noble…”

“Hah! Neither did I lad! In that regard, you and I are the same,” Orodan said with a laugh. “And I think… that pillar of yours was a bit more successful than either of us would’ve thought.”

“What do you mean ser? Wait… the plague! It’s…”

Fenton needn’t have voiced his thoughts, for it was apparent to see what was occurring. Every soldier on the battlefield saw clearly enough as the remaining Eldritch, cut off from the rift, slowly began to have the plague fade from their bodies.

They might not have known why, but Orodan did.

After all, he’d cleansed plague worlds before and knew what happened to the subservient underlings when an infected world core was purged.

#

“They’re really putting you to work aren’t they?”

“I consider this to be free training. Not often I’ll get the chance to smith for an entire army. What else is there to do when they’ve insisted we remain locked up in this tent?”

“And surrounded by three regiments of soldiers,” Fenton called out from across the tent, silently meditating. “Makes you wonder whether they’re keepin’ us safe… or keeping us in.”

“Bit jaded for a young man your age aren’t you?” Clyburn asked.

“I was the same in my youth. That he can see such things simply means he has a good head on his shoulders,” Orodan remarked, touching up the latest rifle in the stack. And then hurling a pebble at Fenton’s head which the boy dodged. “I thought you were supposed to be meditating. Shall I take your idle chatter as proof that you’ve mastered the intricacies of the soul?”

Fenton sighed but returned to his quiet meditations. Orodan could tell the lad found the deep introspections the soul arts called for to be excessively boring. Orodan too found such things dull, in fact, his ‘education’ in the ways of the soul had mostly occurred through the rigors of combat and desperation.

Once Fenton achieved basic awareness of his own soul, the real training would start.

Orodan’s hand clanged down upon hot metal, knocking it into shape.

[Gunsmithing 25 → Gunsmithing 26]

He wasn’t particularly good at Gunsmithing, but the existing understanding he had of Blacksmithing certainly helped. And while he enjoyed the trade, the real motivator was his increasing understanding of Engineering and Artificing which in turn would help with the rebuilding of the ancient machine down the line. In any case, it was a good opportunity for some training.

What had occurred after the military realized that Fenton’s pillar had entirely purged a plague world? They’d been - very politely - locked down in a tent with a strict guard surrounding it at all times. The whispers and conversations Orodan heard outside were already referring to Fenton as the young purger of the plague, and speaking of the boy as a hero.

Which he certainly was, but fame could also come with some negative consequences. Chiefly the increase in people keeping tabs on you. Orodan’s keen hearing had picked out all the conversations at the checkpoint. The military was doubtlessly pleased that they’d uncovered a talent like Fenton, and they were also happy that a war-changing device such as the pillars of purification had been invented. Chiefly though, the command staff’s greatest concern was the possibility of Eldritch retaliation via assassins or underhanded attempts at harming Fenton.

And while the Collective would have sent more forces to their location, they were tied up with other matters. An excuse which seemed nonsensical on the surface, except that these other matters involved the emergence of two new spatial rifts in the hot zone.

Yes, the purification of a plague world had sent the Eldritch into a frenzy. It seemed they were on the warpath in their attempts to snuff out the device and Fenton Penny. In fact, from what Orodan had heard, two more war hosts of Eldritch had tried marching for their checkpoint, yet in both cases the Collective’s main army near the center of the hot zone had managed to intercept them, albeit at great cost of life.

Lonvoron had already been under siege by three entire plague worlds before Orodan’s arrival. Even if the deployment of a pillar had eliminated one, the introduction of two more plague worlds to the equation doubtlessly made things dire. Or, it would have…

…if Orodan hadn’t purged the entire divine dimension of Eldritch near the start of this long loop when he was upon Alastaia.

The whispers he’d heard around the checkpoint seemed to indicate as much. A little over three months ago, before Orodan’s arrival, the forces of Lonvoron suddenly began having a far easier time in battle. Eldritch often had Blessings empowering them from their fell Gods, yet even Orodan had noticed none of those during his encounters against the enemy thus far.

It seemed that his feat at the start of the loop had some serious negative consequences for the overall battle power of the plague.

In any case, Orodan too had been noticed as the talented metallurgy specialist and assistant to Fenton. Thankfully, the ability to deflect all the credit towards his student had saved Orodan’s cover. He hadn’t drawn his sword and shield at any point, nor was he seen destroying Eldritch in combat. As a result, nobody really questioned him nor did they think him anything but an eccentric mage blacksmith from the bog islands. Essential in aiding Fenton at certain critical junctures, but nothing more.

It had been less than an hour since the battle ended. Yet even then the checkpoint was now heavily defended, with Collective troops from all across Lonvoron arriving to lend their strength. And from the looks of what Vision of Purity told him, the command staff had finished their briefing and had received new orders, approaching their tent to speak with their party.

“High-ranking military general approaching,” Orodan said, giving Fenton and Clyburn a heads-up.

The entryway to their tent parted and a grim-faced man whose uniform looked quite unkempt entered. He was flanked by two Transcendents. One, a gunslinger, a woman he’d fought before during his first loop upon Lonvoron. The other, an old woman, not triggering Orodan’s senses as being much of a combatant… in relation to him anyways.

“Clyburn Anderthorn. I recall an anxious young engineer desperately repairing steam knights in the midst of battle alongside me decades ago. A pleasant surprise to see you here,” the ragged-looking man said.

“Admiral Goodwin…? To come down personally…” Clyburn muttered.

“Nonsense. I’d heard you had become the chief engineer of the Ironhaven Engineer’s Guild eleven years ago, but to then hear you were participating in this research project ordered by the crown? I had to come see it for myself,” the man said. “More importantly… is this young lad here your protege?”

“Possibly the most talented enchanter I’ve ever seen Admiral. Might I introduce young Fenton Penny?” Clyburn said, pointing to the boy.

“Penny? I see… of humble birth then?” the Admiral asked, a smile on his face. “Ever has the Collective’s greatest strength come from those who have the lowest of upbringings, isn’t that right Lawson?”

“There’s a certain hardiness to lads who come from the islands I’ll admit,” the Transcendent gunslinger said, and then frowned as she realized the flask in her hands was empty. “Bugger… don’t suppose you have any good drinks in this dungheap?”

“We’ll have plenty of rum and drinks to go around when we return to the ship!” the man exclaimed and then turned to Fenton, mock whispering. “Don’t mind her, she has a drinking problem…”

“I’m right here. And it’s not a drinking problem when I’m your best shot and only function better with a drink in hand. Who else would guard your life otherwise?” she rebuked. The woman looked at the gun hanging off Fenton’s waist assessingly. “Decent-make, bit much kick for your hands though. Know how to use that thing boy?”

“I’ve shot a thing or two,” Fenton replied.

“Heh, we’ll have to test that sometime,” the woman said. “Now then, did we come here to have a tea party Goodwin? Tell the boy what you’re here for.”

“Right, how rude of me… I’m Admiral Quinton Goodwin. My alcoholic friend here is Madam Lawson and my other associate is Duchess Elmira Treadway,” the man introduced and then extended a hand towards Fenton. “And you, my boy, are the reason we’re here. What you’ve done, the Collective owes you a great debt for. You and Sir Clyburn both, but from what he’s told us… the pillar you made wouldn’t have come to fruition without your hand.”

“I couldn’t have done it meself ser, Misters Clyburn and Orodan helped me a lot,” Fenton said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Ah right, you must be the young lad’s assistant. Lord Weller and his space mages spoke highly of your Metallurgy skill,” the Admiral said. Metallurgy skill? Perhaps that was what the people here used instead of Blacksmithing? “You have our gratitude for aiding young Fenton here and will be more than appropriately compensated. Orodan was it? An odd name, are you an islander?”

“He’s from the bog islands,” Fenton said, covering for him. “Had to get good at workin’ metal with his hands instead of with machines.”

“Truly? I can quite respect anyone who forgoes the modern comforts and conveniences we take for granted. Why, I and a colleague were just theorizing the other day that doing things in a base manner might lead to exceptional skills,” the Admiral remarked. “Instead of a steam forge what if we used a hammer like the olden days?”

“There’s a certain tranquility and sense of… quality, that a steam forge just can’t provide,” Orodan replied. “Better to pound the metal yourself than rely on a machine for it.”

“Haha! I like it! Given the size of those arms you certainly must have-”

“Your fate is obscured. Why?”

The conversation went silent as the Transcendent Treadway’s question cut into the air. She was intently staring at Orodan.

“My business is my own,” Orodan replied.

“Admiral, having this man around poses a security risk. We know not who he is, especially with Eldritch spies running around as of late,” the fate reader warned. “He has a strange shield blocking his fate which I’ve never seen before. The aurameter can’t get a sense of his level of strength either.”

The Admiral looked back and forth between her and Orodan, finally shaking his head.

“Elmira… his fate is no business of ours,” the man said. “What matters is that an entire plague world has been cleansed. The pressure upon a number of our border worlds has dramatically lessened, with them even taking territories back as a result. In light of that, would you really want to dig into the man’s affairs when he’s aided us so greatly against our common foe?”

“Uppity Treadways I swear…” Madam Lawson muttered. “Always on a quest to see all the criminal and ‘unknown’ elements of the Collective brought to heel. Surprised you can even talk with how far down your throat you have the King’s boot.”

“You dare-”

“Shut it!” the Admiral roared, silencing them both. “Lawson, we’re all loyal servants of the crown now, no matter our past affiliations. Treadway, mind your business and leave Fenton’s assistant alone. And if I have to hear the two of you bicker about this fight one more time, I’m going to tear my non-existent hairs out! Now then, I’ll keep this short. Fenton Penny, Clyburn Anderthorn… the both of you are hereby anointed as royal advisors.”

“R-royal… advisor?” Clyburn muttered.

“I’d personally consider it a great burden, to be saddled with even more work. But in short, you have full dispensation to use the Crown’s authority to aid in your work,” Admiral Goodwin said. “Whatever resources you need, troops, materials, workers, knowledge, the entirety of the Blackworth Collective will do its best to provide. In turn, his Majesty King Alstatyn von Flemethy has ordered the creation of as many of these pillars of purification as you can provide.”

Fenton though, looked dazed.

“Me? A royal advisor?”

“A glorified position which bestows the honor of more work upon you,” Madam Lawson said. “I’m one too, it’s not worth the ball and chain they have wrapped around your ankles.”

“Don’t discourage the boy…” the weary Admiral muttered in resignation at his subordinate’s candid words. “I will not lie, yes, it will be a lot of work. But what those pillars have done does not lie. If just one is capable of purging an entire plague world… then what can be done with more? We might finally be capable of beating back the plague and ending all these years of war. I’m certain Clyburn will accept… but will you join us in protecting our world, Fenton Penny?”

They needn’t have even asked. Orodan already knew what his student’s decision was going to be.

“I do.”

“Excellent! I do not know if anyone has told you, but the plague’s attacks upon Lonvoron have intensified. Two new plague worlds have joined the siege of our world, and now more than ever, we could use your aid,” the Admiral said. “Our main army led by the King is holding for now, but the situation is unsustainable without something to break the balance. In five days we march for these new rifts… do you think you can make another pillar by then?”

Five days was a steep ask for a device so large and complicated.

But they’d gotten some good practice in working fast and under a time crunch.

Alongside the full support of the Collective as a whole? Orodan’s ambitions extended beyond just making one pillar within that timeframe.

#

“Need a gear!”

Orodan threw one across the tent.

“Recovery potion please ser!”

A glass bottle was hurled towards Fenton who caught it nimbly.

“This plate needs to be…

[Tool Mastery 77 → Tool Mastery 78]

“…thank you.”

Orodan hammered it into place before Clyburn could even finish asking.

He was like a rabid beast of crafting. Aggression, violence and pure ferocity. For so long had Orodan employed these in combat, but to now turn them towards his crafts too? A most beneficial training regimen.

Much like his sword strikes flowed, one into the other… each strike of the hammer flowed into the next with absolutely no wasted movement or opening. Sometimes, he’d hit a hammer strike and then flow into an elbow strike and then a shoulder hit in the same motion.

It was as though he was fighting, but his opponent was the metal.

[Blacksmithing 72 → Blacksmithing 73]

If in battle Orodan was a one man army, then here, he was now a one man assembly line. His hands worked furiously, one heating the metal, the other, smashing it into place with perfect particulate arrangement. Even his legs refused to stay idle, as his feet lashed out with kicks and he then shot forth with knee strikes to brutalize the metal into the shape he desired.

Why was a blacksmith limited to just two of their limbs? If Orodan could fight with both arms and legs, then so too could he blacksmith with them.

“I need another sprocket!”

All four of Orodan’s limbs were occupied…

…so he instead hit the completed piece with a gentle headbutt which sent it flying across the room and onto Clyburn’s table.

Like this, the furious work of producing the pillar continued.

Fenton had accepted the Crown’s offer of a position as royal advisor, but he’d stipulated two conditions. First, that they would work in private within the large workshop tent they had set up. Nobody was to try and spy on their work or methods. And second…

…that they could participate in the defense of the checkpoint against any Eldritch attacks.

Needless to say, the Admiral had been quite against granting the second condition, but had eventually relented long as Fenton agreed to remain with the troops and not charge out like a reckless idiot.

“This is your doing of course. I wonder who influenced him to think active battle is a good learning environment…”

“Well it is. Even you won’t deny that Zaessythra.”

“Your words aren’t untrue…”

The checkpoint’s alarm horn went off.

“Finally, a break!” Fenton exclaimed.

After some demonstrations of what Fenton’s enhanced weaponry could achieve, the Admiral had done an initial trial run of allowing the Eldritch forces coming from the rifts to attack the checkpoint. Normally, these forces would be intercepted by the main army in the center of the hot zone, but they were under tremendous pressure already having to deal with two additional plague worlds.

As expected, Fenton had proven himself during that trial run, and the strategic decision was made for the main army to stop intercepting Eldritch assaults heading for the checkpoint. This alleviated a large burden from King Alstatyn’s force, and in turn allowed Fenton to gain valuable combat experience, ideas and innovate further devices and tricks for use against the plague.

Orodan and Clyburn followed the boy out of the tent, and the sounds of cheers and hollers resounded as the soldiers saw Fenton Penny.

“It’s the young master! The purger of the plague!”

“The young purifier! We’ll mop up the plague no problem today!”

It wasn’t too long ago that Orodan himself had been in the same position. He only hoped that Fenton didn’t do anything stupid under the weight of the expectations upon him.

Then again, who the hells was Orodan to say that? His entire life was filled with stupidity.

“Wave of infected trees on the horizon! They’re sending an advance force of fast movers in!”

Over the past five days, the Eldritch attacks upon the checkpoint had certainly increased in their intensity. The first few attacks were of a probing nature, with scant amounts of chaff sent to gauge their defenses. The Eldritch weren’t stupid either, these probing strikes were meant to scout out how much manpower the defenders had, the integrity of the barrier, their battle tactics, and so on.

The Blackworth Collective had been battling the plague in earnest for many years now. Both sides were familiar with the tactics of the other.

Of course, Fenton threw a wrench into those plans.

But… as did Orodan.

The approaching horde of infected wolves and horses stampeded towards the barrier, yet before they could make contact, a wave of steam knights sallied out in front, arms inter-locked for added mass and stability as their blades began swinging and reaping Eldritch lives like insects in a fire. The infected creatures, all of them fast at movement, didn’t have much mass or resilience compared to the steam knights.

And when they had their arms interlocked and stood in formation akin to a shieldwall… the outcome was obvious. The enemy ‘cavalry’ broke upon the steam knights. And the repurposed barrier - modified by Fenton to allow bullets through from the defending side - now rippled as volleys of withering fire erupted, scything the swift wolves down.

The Eldritch had perhaps thought to soften the barrier with fast moving chaff, and then slam into it with their slow-moving but resilient line of infected trees. Certainly, he could see those tough things surviving a forced entry through the elemental defenses, but the shieldwall tactics of Alastaia made the steam knights a potent force.

Furthermore, Fenton had enchanted the soldiers’ stores of ammunition as well. Against hordes of weaker plague forms, a new type of fragmenting bullet was used. It erupted into multiple pieces of shrapnel upon firing and a single shot could catch three or even four quick but frail plague forms at once. And if an entire volley was fired? Short of Grandmaster and Transcendents, even some of the swiftest Eldritch wouldn’t have any room to dodge due to the sheer saturation of projectiles in the air.

The wave of chaff, thousands, fell within minutes. Dead to the last creature before the slow-moving line of infected trees could even approach. The trees themselves however were continually emitting infectious Eldritch energies as they slowly marched towards the battle line of steam knights in front of the barrier.

But Fenton had a plan for even that as a device with a large spout was produced and carried outside the barrier by a reserve steam knight. Orodan, Clyburn and he had worked upon it personally.

“Engineers! Deploy the mist! Poison mages remain ready!” the checkpoint commander ordered as the heavily armored engineer directed the steam knight to activate the device. “Monitor the array closely!”

A deadly green gas began erupting from the device, billowing towards the lines of approaching Eldritch. The steam knights being inorganic were unaffected as the gas passed them, but the Eldritch…

…they began to scream in agony.

Alkahest. Modified into gaseous form after some intricate enchantments and work by Fenton, and sent towards the plague’s battle lines with deadly efficiency.

The infected trees and their Eldritch energies began disintegrating, and after four minutes the entire wave was dead.

“Damn… do we even need to fight if we have that?” a soldier incredulously asked.

“Quiet idiot, I’m sure the plague’s got some countermeasure for it.”

Wind mages, spatiomancers and dimensionalists could certainly counter a gaseous acid such as that. Or worse… turn it against the Collective. It was but one tool in the bag, best used at opportune moments and preferably not overplayed lest the enemy find ways of quickly adapting and working around it.

“Got the notes down Mister Clyburn?” Fenton asked.

“Right, the dispersion rate is still a little sub-optimal, but nothing I can’t fix after a few modifications,” Clyburn replied, jotting down notes and observations in a frenzy. “Back to work we go, we still have the fifth pillar to work on.”

And so they returned. Back to the assembly line it was for Orodan.

Over the past five days he’d mainly hammered metal, but had also put together devices alongside Clyburn and occasionally even helped Fenton with enchanting. The supply of materials was plentiful, and through the usage of potions, Orodan staved off fatigue from affecting the other two. Having to operate on such a strict deadline was of great benefit to his skills. Even with just five days of work, he felt many skills on the cusp of gaining a level.

“Could use some of that mana mist ser, big piece comin’ up!”

Orodan threw another finished piece of metal towards Clyburn before heading over to Fenton. His Mana Manipulation was high enough that he could simply expel raw mana in the form of mist into the air. Entirely pointless in most circumstances, a waste of energy even if Orodan wasn’t concerned about the notion.

But who it did help was Fenton, who used the mist of pure mana to begin seeing which possible pathways best suited the enchantment. Much like for his other allies on Lonvoron, Orodan had avoided granting the lad his Blessing lest it trigger some sort of failsafe or be detected by the Prophet or previous looper. And while the boy had been put through his paces, Fenton still had to worry about a limited mana pool and simply didn’t have enough to expel a sufficient quantity of the mist for himself. Nor did he have the manipulation skill necessary for it.

“I still don’t understand how that helps you,” Orodan remarked. “It’s just raw mana floating in the air. You aren’t absorbing it either.”

“Right you are Mister Orodan, but what you ain’t lookin’ at is how the mana’s seeping into the metal.”

“But what benefit does that provide? It’s just idly going into the plate…”

“You’re a swordsman right ser?” Fenton asked and Orodan nodded. “It’s like when you watch someone’s one move and can read the next two or three ahead of time. I can’t do none of that when it comes to fighting… but enchanting’s a different matter.”

Orodan looked closely, and then he vaguely saw what Fenton meant, especially as the lad began enchanting.

Even though each metal plate was perfectly forged, not every particle of metal had the same conductivity for mana. Very similar yes, so much that Orodan wouldn’t have noticed it without Fenton’s experiment… but not exactly the same. Some particles accepted the mana just a bit more freely, while others repelled it a slight bit more.

“Here, have a try,” Fenton said shoving a scrap piece towards him and into the mana mist covered table.

And as Orodan saw the mist seep into this piece of scrap metal… he strained his mind to conceive of an enchantment path and inscription which was optimized for each particle.

His hand swept over the metal, free form enchanting.

[Enchanting 89 → Enchanting 90]

[New Title → Enchanting Master]

It certainly wasn’t up to par with Fenton’s work, but it was excellent, far better an enchanting piece than Orodan had ever done before.

“I didn’t even know that was possible…” Orodan muttered.

“Aren’t you the one who told me not to accept impossibility? Just followin’ your lesson ser,” Fenton said with a grin.

“That I certainly did. Good work Fenton,” Orodan said.

“Mister Wainwright, your muscle here please.”

“On it.”

The next four hours passed uneventfully. No more attacks from the Eldritch came either.

Eventually, Orodan muscled the last screw of the fifth pillar on as tightly as was possible.

A grand device, and with the completion of it, came culminating gains.

[Laboring 54 → Laboring 55]

[Artificing 46 → Artificing 47]

[Engineering 49 → Engineering 50]

[New Title → Engineering Adept]

“Well I’ll be… five additional pillars completed in five days… your rate of work and inexhaustible stamina are a sight to behold Mister Wainwright. Have you considered employment after this whole thing’s done?” Clyburn asked. “My guild would love to have you on.”

“Why not? Would make for a decent cover story at least.”

“Can’t believe we’re actually done… did we really do all that? I’ve lost track of the time I have!” Fenton exclaimed. “How long’s it been since we even ate?”

“Too long, but I feel the thoughts of a celebratory meal will have to wait. The Admiral and his entourage are approaching again,” Orodan said. “Just in time too.”

A bell outside the tent rang, and two people entered. The Admiral and the gunslinger accompanying him last time.

“Young Fenton, there’s been some concerning developments and I must ask how much progress you’ve… what on Lonvoron is this?”

“Nothin’ much ser. We’ve got five pillars ready to go whenever you need,” Fenton answered with a toothy smile.

“You… how? I thought even the demand of one in just five days was too steep, but five? Five? How have you done this?”

“Just a bit of elbow grease and fighting spirit Admiral, we’ll not let it be said that the men of the islands are lazy nitwits,” Clyburn added.

The Admiral however looked at both Clyburn and Fenton assessingly, and the man seemed to realize that those two weren’t where the answer lay. His eyes instead turned to Orodan, and a look of suspicion and interest was apparent in his scrutinizing gaze.

“Hmm… interesting assistants you keep, Clyburn,” the man remarked.

“He was lent to me by Lady Luetta Treadway anyhow. I can’t claim the credit for his hiring.”

“I’ll have to speak with her sometime. Truly, the strangest people come out of the bog islands it seems,” the man said. “Now then, despite the absurdity of it we have five pillars of purification in this tent alongside the one remaining in reserve. This is good news, but as of a few minutes ago, two more spatial rifts have opened in the hot zone and the King’s army risks being overwhelmed. We now have six plague worlds assailing Lonvoron. And while the rapid gains we’ve made on other fronts as a result are doubtlessly excellent, it will matter little if the prime world of the Collective falls today. We move immediately, I’ll give the soldiers orders to promptly transport the pillars.”

“Very well, our supplies are packed and ready to go,” Clyburn said.

Battle awaited.

#

The reinforcing army headed to the center of the hot zone numbered twelve-thousand. It wasn’t a lot of troops, and supposedly there had been some concerning developments regarding the Eldritch elsewhere that needed the diversion of the Collective’s forces. Still, twelve-thousand would have to do. The pillars of purification and their creators were of course the core of this formation, closely guarded, with soldiers, war machines and lookouts on close watch to prevent any sneaky attempts at assassination or sabotage by the Eldritch.

And predictably, they faced heavy assault upon their approach.

“Horde! Twenty-thousand strong!” a Transcendent-level scout called out. “Thirty miles out!”

Orodan had seen this old woman before. She was the lookout he’d managed to sneak past at Castle Ironpeak. Perhaps her job performance back then had seen her sent here? Or more realistically, the situation was dire enough for her to be recalled for frontline duty.

“Ready arms! Take positions and secure lines of fire!” the formation’s general called out.

Admiral Goodwin was of course, an admiral. And while that was a high-ranking position, the ground forces wouldn’t be under his direct command. Instead, the voidcraft battling in the skies against Eldritch aerial forces were the man’s purview.

Thankfully for Lonvoron, Orodan had heard that the Collective always had air superiority over the plague. But they were still too busy ensuring aerial plague forms weren’t slipping out the hot zone to provide any bombardments. On the ground, the battle would be fought alone.

Furthermore, this was a proper army of the Eldritch, with infected warriors, mages, war beasts and commanders in force. Relying on cheap tactics wouldn’t work. The enemy was determined to make them fight hard for every life they reaped.

The first of the plague to be seen were chaff, as expected. And they swarmed right towards the army, being scythed down by a hail of gunfire. These were mere expendable meatshields however, and their deaths not at all costly to the Eldritch. The heavier plague forms designed to take a beating though, were far tougher.

Particularly when they weren’t just animals but sapient beings under the corruption.

“Plague shieldwall approaching!”

Artillery bombardments hit them, but the skill levels of the infected warriors must have been decent, for while the shieldwall wobbled, it didn’t break. The enemy was almost conjoined, each one a Grandmaster. Eldritch energy flowed from one to the other, and each of their shields rippled with power, the combined formation granting each corruped shield-bearer more toughness than they would have had individually.

Long hours spent drilling the movements, a warrior’s shield covering the body of the one next to them. It was a formation Orodan was very familiar with.

Of course, the Collective’s forces weren’t stupid. Swift steam carriers, light vehicles with decent speed, were sent out with grenadiers and rifle-wielding troops atop them. They tried swerving about the sides to flank and deal damage, but it was to no use as the square was well-fortified on every side and the shields of the Eldritch warriors were strong.

Furthermore, deadly and fast moving plague forms forced the carrier to immediately pull back lest they be caught in their flanking efforts. And while they didn’t number many, the Eldritch still had ranged troops such as archers and javelineers who could take vehicles down.

The steady advance of the shieldwall seemed unstoppable. Ordinarily, great swathes of artillery and brute force would be required to crack it, and certain front line troops would have to be sacrificed as the horde reached them in melee and an orderly fall back while firing was performed.

Orodan didn’t think that necessary. Guns and artillery had their place, but when fighting an enemy shield wall…

…who better to counter a shield user than another shield-wielding warrior?

Orodan’s experienced eye assessed each of the warriors composing the shieldwall. The formation was good, and the ability of each corrupted warrior to maintain it was decent… but sometimes, individual skill mattered. And who else could identify the problems with their form better than he?

Immediately he identied four infected warriors with shoddy form. One in particular, who Orodan eyed predatorily, was using the shield as a wall meant to withstand punishment rather than as a flexible extension of the self. Stiff and poor at adapting to the flow of battle.

He walked up behind the Transcendent sharpshooter.

“See the one with three sickening growths on his forehead?” Orodan asked, and the woman frowned but nodded. “Aim for his shield sister’s neck, the one to his left. Then fine another shot at his knee.”

“Worth a try I suppose,” the woman replied, aiming her rifle.

Orodan then spoke to a sergeant of the Collective directing the cannons of their war machines.

“Soon as her two shots release, open fire on the enemy shield-bearer to her target’s right.”

The sergeant seemed confused, but was willing to give it a try.

A loud boom roared out as the Transcendent sharpshooter’s rifle lanced out with power. Predictably, the target’s shield stopped his shield-sister from getting killed. The follow-up shot aimed for his knee was also caught by his shield, but done in a clumsy manner.

This had left him open, an opening the Eldritch warrior to his right covered…

…leaving that one quite miserably overexposed.

“Fire!”

The high-explosive shell hit the exposed warrior square in the chest, spreading sticky flame among the shieldwall. Eldritch warriors hissed and shrieked in pain as they were burnt alive. And the shieldwall immediately had gaping holes in it as the enemy tried to desperately reform it.

“Shoot them down! Don’t let them reform!”

Under a hail of gunfire and artillery, the plagueform shieldwall was eviscerated in seconds. Each infected warrior standing little chance against the barrage by themselves as the chain of bodies along which Eldritch energy flowed was broken.

[Teaching 76 → Teaching 77]

“It worked! Who was it that- hey where’d he go?”

The Transcendent sharpshooter looked around frantically, but Orodan had already returned to Fenton’s side at the core of the formation.

Now he could perhaps feel a little less bad about her reassignment to the front lines.

“Damn… cracked that shieldwall right quick ser,” Fenton remarked.

“Being a mindless Eldritch minion doesn’t lend well to higher thought and fine skill.”

Frankly, the professional armies of the Republic and Novarria were a lot better at forming shieldwalls than the ill-refined turtle shell he’d helped crack.

With the backbone of the Eldritch frontline eliminated, the remainder of their advance wasn’t difficult to deal with. War beasts charged forth but were shot down via focus fire without the threat of the shieldwall reaching them, and the fast movers were eviscerated by a hail of Fenton’s new shrapnel shot.

And for once, Orodan saw something he didn’t see all too often.

The sight of an Eldritch retreating.

A guttural growl erupted from the lips of one of the commanders, a Transcendent-level infected tree. And the plague forms charging the army turned tail and began falling back from whence they came. The tree alone would have been a solid challenge for their force of twelve-thousand to face alongside the rest, but it began falling back before they could do so.

“Victory! We’ve sent them running!”

Orodan didn’t think so. Rather, he felt the Eldritch were playing it smart, regrouping and waiting to attack in further force with sufficient numbers.

The general of the reinforcing army also seemed to think so, and the man ordered double guard around the pillars, with the Transcendent sharpshooter being relegated to guarding them rather than scouting.

Both he and the man were soon proven right.

Fifteen minutes into their continued march, swift aerial plague forms and all manner of assassins attempted getting at Fenton and the pillars. Thankfully the soldiers of the Collective were prepared and the enemies shot down as quickly as they were detected. Roguish creatures under the effects of invisibility magic, burrowing monsters killed by the mages and even a Transcendent-level Eldritch archer attempting to snipe Fenton from a great distance. Orodan had to subtly draw the formation’s attention to it by flicking a pebble its way.

The confusion on its face as something fast and unseen smashed into its forehead was priceless. The guns had dealt with it soon after.

They faced numerous more probing attacks as their march continued, but no real organized assault.

That was, until they were thirty minutes away from linking up with the main army.

“Spatial distortions detected! The rifts are expanding in size!”

“Got a horde coming out the rifts! I see the main army’s engaged in battle already! Things don’t look too good!” a scout shouted out.

“Get me a numerical estimate on the swarm, soldier!” the general barked.

“Fifty-thousand…”

“We can take ‘em!”

“Wait… there’s more coming. H-hundred thousand…”

The soldiers now went quieter.

“We might have to link up with the main army then, move to join the King!”

“Sir… they’re still coming… two-hundred-thousand! No, wait… three-hundred-thousand!”

The counting was unnecessary after a certain point, for even as a million total plague forms poured through, the tide showed no signs of stopping.

“How is Lonvoron meant to fight this tide?” the general muttered to himself. “I never knew they had such numbers…”

If anything, this was the fault of Orodan and Fenton. The pillars had forced the Eldritch’s hand. Previously, perhaps the Prophet and the Eldritch under its command were content to play the long game, to bide their time and wait. But with such a device being deployed they had advanced things to a breackneck pace.

“Fenton… get to activating the pillars,” Orodan said. “And give me some of those flashbangs, will you?”

He would’ve loved to fight them all, but that would certainly have drawn the eye of whoever was watching. And given the multiple Transcendent-level Eldritch coming out of the rifts, there was no fighting that swarm conventionally with the forces they had arrayed here.

The best Orodan could hope to do was buy some time. And perhaps preserve his anonymity a bit longer. Though with recent events, that was looking more and more unlikely.

He really wasn’t cut out for these clandestine activities.

“Bloody hell! They’re ignoring the King’s army and coming right for us! Defensive formation! Fenton Penny, we need that device activated now!” the general of the army ordered.

Fenton and the steam knights assigned to labor immediately began hoisting the pillar up. But before they could, pandemonium began.

“Spatial br-”

The Eldritch weren’t stupid. Space ripped apart ino a passage as the spatiomancers were overwhelmed by three Transcendent-level enemy space mages. Spindly things… the infected spiders which came out the rift were the same species as Alagameth, the spatial spider he’d fought in the void.

Yet, what cut them and the Collective’s space mages off were the multiple flashbang grenades Orodan threw all around, blinding everyone nearby.

The spatial spiders weren’t inept. Transcendent-level space mages were powerhouses with deft skill, and they could function just fine while physically blinded.

Of course, the blinding wasn’t meant for them, but the other witnesses. Orodan didn’t need anyone seeing what he was about to do.

Before the light and sound from the flashbangs could even clear, Orodan slew the first two enemy space mages with a punch each. His combat speed being far higher. He had grown strong, and Transcendents were now like wheat before a scythe against him.

The third was quick, having some sort of automated and instinctual spatial evasion skill. It dodged Orodan’s fatal blow…

[Spatial Shift 25 → Spatial Shift 27]

…only for him to spatially shift the entire battlefield so that it simply dodged into his fist anyways, killing it instantly. A colossal amount of power for anyone else. For him, nothing. He normally avoided such big displays of power, but in the midst of a battle tracking down who’d done what was incredibly difficult for even an expert. Though there would doubtlessly be some mangled terrain damage as evidence of what had occurred.

Orodan had killed the infected space Transcendents so quickly that the sound from the flashbangs had yet to clear.

Immediately, the spatial passage they tore open began to weaken, and the Collective’s spatiomancers were able to forcibly shut it down with the responsible spatial spiders slain. The group of thirty Transcendent-level plague forms on the other side,, meant to be a lethal strike force, could only watch in befuddlement as the passage to their planned ambush assault closed before they could do anything about it.

Crisis averted for now. There was simply no way their reinforcing army of twelve-thousand, meant for transporting the pillars, would be capable of facing that many Transcendents.

“That felt too easy…” one of the allied spatiomancers muttered, not even realizing that the spatial breach had closed because the enemy space mages had been slain. “Hey, what’re those corpses? Ugh… are those spiders? How’d they even…? Who did that?”

“No time for that, focus! They’re still trying to teleport plague forms into our formation!”

The chaos of battle put such otherwise reasonable questions to rest, particularly since he could feel the Eldritch’s maddened attempts at teleportations and opening spatial rifts now that their initial shock strike had failed.

Fenton was halfway through having the first pillar hoisted up, and the enemy was beginning to get desperate. It was all-or-nothing for them now.

If spatiomancy wouldn’t work… then conventional brute force would have to do.

“Multiple Transcendents coming our way! Moving fast!” a scout called out.

Crossing miles in but an instant was easy for beings at the Transcendent-level with movement skills. And a four-armed ogre hefting a giant club, leading ten other Transcendents, rushed straight for them.

Fenton was a step ahead though. An exceptionally sturdy sphere which Orodan had put great time and care into forging was thrown to the ground. It’s surface and even its interior was intricately enchanted. Upon striking the dirt, it roiled with energy, and their army was surrounded by a shimmering barrier.

The leading Transcendent plagueform charged into it…

…and vanished elsewhere. Two more rushed in, disappearing into it before the rest stopped and growled with fury at the obstruction.

It was a barrier that would simply send the attacker elsewhere in space. A temporry solution meant to purchase time, but that was what they needed most now.

The six plague worlds spewed forth more infected spatiomancers onto the battlefield, a rabid bid to unravel this barrier. And eventually, they would. But not before Fenton activated the first of the pillars. It looked as though victory was in their grasp.

Which was when Orodan saw it. A brief glimpse, and it looked as though its figure was on the verge of slipping out of reality once more.

Talricto had taught him well, the ways of Dimensionalism. His teacher was superior to whoever had decided to interlope upon this battle. Hence, Orodan saw it clearly now where he wasn’t able to on his first loop here.

It wore the guise of an old man wielding a book and sceptre. Yet, he knew this monster was anything but.

The Prophet had arrived…

…and it was eyeing Fenton Penny and the pillars with a gaze most unfriendly.

Perhaps something would come by to stop it soon, hence it looked to be in a rush. Or it simply didn’t want to reveal its presence too early. But right here, right now, in the split hundredths of a second where everyone else was far too slow to react to its presence, only Orodan could see its left hand rising, sceptre ready to launch a subtle but devastating strike towards his student.

Then and there, he made his decision. Screw his cover; he would not allow any harm to befall Fenton Penny.

Orodan knew he was no match for it, yet he launched the one desperate bid he thought had the best chance.

A mental attack.

Every flashbang he had left was thrown into the air and triggered, blinding all present. And with a roar…

[Commandment of War 47 → Commandment of War 49]

…for the briefest of instants he encouraged the Prophet to look into his eyes.

And such a small, infinitesmal moment of time was all it took. For once their eyes met…

…the Prophet gazed into the depths of Infinity.

[Incipience of Infinity 139 → Incipience of Infinity 141]

The mental confrontation lasted for a period of time less than it would take sound to cross a room. Orodan felt his own mind suffer a horrid strain.

The mind of a man directly contesting the mind of an Eldritch-infected Administrator. The outcome should have been a foregone conclusion.

Yet… Orodan Wainwright was no mere man. He had one of the mightiest minds in the entirety of System space.

It was akin to a little sparrow charging into a mountain. But there was one critical factor… the sparrow had found a weak spot capable of causing a landslide.

All of Lonvoron shook as a terrible scream rang out. It wasn’t Orodan, but the Prophet.

The Prophet’s mind was strong, beyond any other target he’d ever tried mentally jousting against. But most shockingly, it was the Administrator who utterly recoiled in terror. Orodan had struck a weak point; it was as though the Prophet had experienced such a thing before and wanted absolutely no part of it.

Who knew that a mighty Administrator could be so vulnerable to a mental attack of this sort?

Its hands immediately went to its eyes, as it hissed, stumbling three steps backwards and immediately breaking eye contact. Purple-gray veins began to show upon the human guise it wore, yet it desperately tried to maintain control.

Despite all this, the terrible, terrible rage was apparent in its every motion. When was the last time it had been hurt? A grievous insult.

Not even a second had passed, and already it looked as though it wanted nothing more than to destroy the entire planet and galaxy.

But Lonvoron wasn’t as defenseless as it seemed. Especially when a particular individual was defending it from the shadows.

Orodan didn’t notice their arrival at all, the only thing tipping him off being the slight shimmer in the air which was visible to his keen sight. This new entrant to the battle, who he only now identified as the previous looper, had entered entirely unnoticed. Just as he remembered, they were covered in a ridiculous number of illusions and disguising spells.

And the Prophet was far too preoccupied with the effects of Orodan’s mental assault to notice as they channelled a copious amount of System energy into the Administrator’s Mantle they were wearing.

The army, disoriented by the flashbangs, didn’t see the blazing power of the beam they shot out.

The beam of System energy struck the Prophet directly. Ill-prepared as it was, the attack struck squarely, and without any defenses blunting its power.

A direct trail of carnage went from the Prophet’s position on the battlefield to the spatial rifts leading to the plague worlds, and Orodan saw as the Administrator was unwillingly hurled back into the rifts, caught by surprise, on the backfoot as it was recovering from his own mental attack.

The previous looper disappeared immediately after.

And for everyone else who operated on a far slower time frame, the only thing they noticed was the sudden blinding flash and the destruction of a large portion of the Eldritch.

Just in time too, as the first pillar of purification was raised.

“For our world!”

Fenton’s battle cry came accompanied with the device being activated at full power.

Previously, Orodan had thrown the pillar right into a plague world and then the rift had closed. But now, seeing it for the first time, he had to admit it was an impressive device.

His sturdy construction and personalized forging of the metal had made it incredibly resilient as titanic amounts of mana flowed through it, powered by a reinforced core at the center. This core was enchanted and warded against almost every method of tampering Orodan could think of.

Short of raw force, nothing below the Grandmaster-level could break the pillar. And Eldritch near it would find themselves utterly drained into purification if they dared approach.

The purple haze and mist in the sky began to clear. The Eldritch energies in the air, in the ground and from the very plague forms themselves began burning from the inside out, reduced to nothingness. Furthermore, this process of steady purification didn’t harm the infected either, adding potential reinforcements against the plague.

Plague forms on the front began falling to the ground, cut off from their Eldritch masters as the sickening corruption began disappearing and they went unconscious. Infected Transcendents immediately began fleeing, ordered back. Some managed to reach the rifts in time, others weren’t quick enough and began collapsing as the corruption was purged from their bodies and their masters’ control failed.

The horde of a million was in a frenzied retreat towards the spatial rifts, desperate to avoid purification.

How could Fenton create such a device? The answer was simple, with the help of Clyburn yes, but particularly… that of Orodan.

The lad was good at Enchanting, but Orodan was the greatest talent in Cleaning the cosmos had ever seen. The original machine was supposed to merely absorb Eldritch, containing it within the device, and then gradually purifying it over time. It would have been vulnerable to sabotage, assaults from plague forms seeking to release the corruption or would have simply taken too long.

This though, Orodan had provided much fine input and guidance upon. With Fenton’s hand doing the Enchanting, Clyburn’s Engineering, Orodan’s forging and the provision of critical guidance on how cleaning should function… the pillars of purification had come to be.

Certainly, he was superior to what even thousands of these pillars could do, but for a mere enchanted device capable of roughly imitating his Celestial skill, it wasn’t bad at all.

“They’re closing the spatial rifts! We’re winning!”

“Do not let them,” Orodan said to the general. “The more plague worlds we eliminate right now, the greater the blow we’ll have struck against them.”

The general thought it a bold plan… but saw the merit in it.

“Spatiomancers! Pour everything into keeping those rifts open! We’ll be sending those plague-ridden bastards some gifts today!”

The soldiers cheered as more pillars of purification were hoisted up and activated. The purging of the Eldritch began to hasten too. The horde of millions was now gone, and the plague forms were desperately trying to close the rifts.

It got to a point where the cleansing wave began reaching past the rift too, and the hive minds directing the Eldritch then began to truly panic.

Bulky steam knights began carrying the pillars towards the rifts, and there seemed to be little the plague worlds could do about it as everything they sent was purged of corruption as it approached. They tried sending ranged attacks towards the rifts, beams of horrifying plague energy, yet Orodan had accounted for these too, recalling how the rifts had assaulted him the same way on his first loop when he was the prime threat.

Soon as the horrifying beam of power erupted… the pillars flashed, detecting the excess Eldritch. In sync with the beam, powerful waves of purification were emanated, eradicating the fell power outright.

The reinforcing army transporting the pillars was now close enough to the rifts that they could see the Collective’s main army led by the King himself.

“Keep going! Cover the pillars with everything we have!” the general shouted. “The King’s forces will cover us too!”

The main threat of course, were any projectile attacks fired by Transcendent-level Eldritch from the other side of the rifts. Even if the attacks were purified before they reached, they were still Transcendent-level and capable of quite some destruction. But that was fine, as the Collective had its own Transcendents who were furiously shooting the enemy projectiles down as they approached.

In a ranged battle without melee pressure, the Blackworth Collective’s army reigned supreme with their volume of fire. Madam Lawson, the Transcendent gunslinger, led a group of crack gunners in targetting these hostile arrows, javelins and spells which came through seeking to destroy the pillars.

However, certain attacks weren’t so easily halted, and one pillar suffered enough damage that it became rendered defunct. Two however…

…made it through.

And the rifts leading to those worlds immediately shut down as the spatiomancers of the Collective now focused on keeping the remaining rifts open.

Things looked to be going well… which was when Orodan sensed a familiar and unwelcome presence on the other side of one of the rifts.

A beam of light came through the spatial rift, targeting not the pillars, but the spatiomancer corps who were keeping the rifts open.

A singular wave of destruction, not all-powerful, but enough that the defensive barrier around the spatiomancers shattered and they were forced to teleport away lest they die. Naturally, their teleportation meant that the efforts to keep the spatial rifts open were interrupted.

Orodan felt the Prophet wink out of existence moments before all of the remaining spatial rifts closed.

Two out of five… with three plague worlds purified overall. Not a bad result in the slightest, but Orodan’s mind could only fixate on how bad the Prophet’s eventual retaliation would be.

Not only was the Administrator no closer to finding the Mantle it had come here for, but it had lost three entire plague worlds in the process and failed to destroy the pillars of purification and their creators. Orodan knew it was one of the more vengeful Administrators… he had to be ready for when that time came. But how? Direct combat against a being capable of shattering galaxies just wasn’t feasible yet.

The Prophet had departed for now, but the promise of its retribution remained. The previous looper too, whose entry he hadn’t even noticed, would also be a problem. How could he find someone whose entrance he couldn’t even detect? A mad idea took hold in his mind, worth a shot, but that could come later.

For now… they had won.

The blue skies above were clear, devoid of any dirty purple haze. The ground had no foul growths upon it, there were no screeching plague forms converging anywhere, no flying monstrosities being engaged by the fleets above… no spatial rifts ripping with fell energies ready to spew forth hordes of mindless horrors.

They had won. Lonvoron had secured victory, their world was free.

And every soldier in the army, infantry, engineer, mage, artillerists all… were staring at the one boy who’d made their victory possible.

Fenton Penny, the young man who had just turned the tide of war.

#

[Vision of Purity 77 → 79]

All of Orodan’s cells begged him to allow them to die. The pain, the mental strain, it was utterly unbelievable. His eyes bled, his cells repeatedly experienced death and rebirth, and the pressure was unending as his mind struggled to account for everything.

But it was good training.

“Ser…! Mister Orodan!” Fenton hissed under his breath. “Yer’ eyes are bleedin’!”

Ah, right. The rest of him was covered by a long and large dark trenchcoat, but the bleeding of his eyes was something he’d forgotten about. A quick flash of his Celestial skill cleansed the bleeding.

“Aye, you need not worry about it. I’m fine,” Orodan replied, his casual tone belying the severe struggle and manganimous effort he was putting in. “Besides, with the young hero of Lonvoron next to me, my struggles are easier to bear.”

“Damn it ser, this ain’t the time for jokes! I don’t want to receive no recognition! I hate dealin’ with crowds of people!”

“Yet you dealt with the hordes of Eldritch just fine,” Orodan retorted. “Just go up there and accept your praise. You already did the real work during the battle, now let the troops cheer for you and get to know their young hero.”

Fenton looked as though he was being sent to his execution, but Orodan bullied him forward with a shove to go accept his lot.

“What a little monster he is…” Clyburn muttered. “I didn’t have too much time to dwell on in the midst of battle, but to see someone his age do the things he’s done with Enchanting… makes me feel as though my whole life has been wasted.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Besides his obvious proclivity for Enchanting he’s smart enough to be a fair hand at Engineering, but he’s not gifted in it like he is with his abiity to weave inscriptions,” Orodan clarified. “The pillars wouldn’t have come to fruition without your knack for Engineering.”

“Heh, I suppose I should remind myself of that more often, thank you Mister Wainwright,” Clyburn said. “Though it bears mentioning that the pillars would have fallen apart within a minute of use without your… exotic talents.”

Clyburn didn’t want to outright say it with others near, but the man meant Orodan’s Blacksmithing of course. It wasn’t that nobody had the Blacksmithing skill here, but that it’s use was seen as a waste of time when more lucrative and in-demand skills were available. With industrial metallurgy and a powerful economy, the common blacksmith faced some stiff competition and had a hard time making a living early on.

And while the early levels didn’t favor them here, these people of the Blackworth Collective hadn’t trained any good blacksmiths who could truly showcase the power of the art in the higher levels. Most people talented with metal went on to work overseeing positions at metal factories, or as gunsmiths, a field which did see high demand.

Orodan’s ability to personally forge each and every bit of metal in the pillars was what allowed them to be so deadly. Even then, he had a long ways to go.

“I still have a lot to learn,” Orodan admitted. “Not just in Blacksmithing, but in many other things.”

“My earlier offer still stands, join my guild. We could use a man such as yourself.”

And Orodan honestly was interested, making a mental note to pursue such a thing after things were wrapped up here.

They were in the Collective’s main war camp at the center of the hot zone. This was where the King’s army held the line against the plague. Though King Alstatyn was nowhere to be seen.

Orodan, Fenton and Clyburn were up on the stage alongside Admiral Quinton Goodwin and the Transcendent gunslinger, Madam Lawson.

As Fenton stepped forward, the atmosphere was drowned in the cheers and cries of support from the soldiers.

“Young purifier!”

“Plague-killer!”

The troops continued cheering until the Admiral was forced to gesture for them to shut up.

“I dare say they’re cheering louder than when the King takes to the field,” the Admiral said. “Hello young Fenton, how’ve you been? I feel like it’s been ages since I last saw you.”

“We spoke earlier today…” Fenton muttered.

The Admiral smiled.

“Indeed, we did, but that was before the battle. Given the recent events which are of significance enough to make a man age a decade, it certainly feels longer. It’s been two hours since the closing of the rifts and I’ve already had to attend over a hundred meetings via communications pendant,” the Admiral said. “How is it that one young man can create this much work for me?”

Madam Lawson’s palm struck her face as she groaned.

“The boy ends the plague’s invasion of our capital world and you’re sitting here complaining?” she asked, baffled. “Hurry up and give him his award before I throttle you.”

“Alright, alright…” the Admiral muttered, the man’s unkempt demeanor and character showing. How such an individual had become the Admiral of the Collective’s void fleets, Orodan didn’t know. But then again, talent came in odd packages. “I’ve always hated these pointless speeches… but if anyone deserves one today, it’s you, young Fenton.”

The Admiral cleared his throat before stepping up and activating a voice amplifier.

“Soldiers of the Blackworth Collective, to the brave men and women who’ve laid it all on the line for the sake of your world, I salute you!” the Admiral declared, to the raucous sound of cheers and cries of joy. “For too long have we fought against the wretched plague as it has taken from us our loved ones, our homes and our peace! But today, as the largest hordes of the plague we’ve ever seen charged towards us… Lonvoron and the Collective displayed their valor once more!”

As he said this, the Transcendent gunslinger urged Fenton forward.

“Ever has the Blackworth Collective served the King and been a staunch example for the rest of the galaxy on how to fight the Eldritch. But today our humble world has produced a genius worthy of making the rest of our galaxy quake! A humble young man integral in holding the enemy plague forms back during a most critical part of the battle. Proof that anyone may rise from quiet beginnings to better our nation,” the Admiral said. “Soldiers! I present to you, Fenton Penny!”

Fenton had a voice amplifying device shoved in front of his mouth, and the Admiral gleefully propped him up.

“Thank you… Admiral, ser… I was just enchantin’ a thing or two… wasn’t expectin’ it would wipe out the plague to be honest.”

The soldiers laughed and hollered, but none of it was mean-spirited. Instead, the socially awkward display endeared the young man to them even more. In their eyes, Orodan could see that the men and women of the military accepted Fenton in their hearts, claiming ownership of him. His humble origins only made him even more precious to the troops, most of whom were low-born themselves.

If anyone tried attacking his student, Orodan had no doubt that the soldiers would put their lives on the line to defend him.

“But… I also want to thank Misters Orodan and Clyburn! We wouldn’t have been able to make this device without the two o’ them!”

Orodan cursed his kind-hearted student. On one hand, he was quite fond of the good-natured and hard-working lad. On the other, it had now come back to bite him as the plan originally was that Fenton would simply credit Clyburn. Of course, his student had disregarded that and seemed insistent that Orodan get some recognition of his own.

Which… wasn’t ideal. But despite the slight deviation it was still something they had a cover story for.

“Indeed!” the Admiral spoke up. “The pillars of purification which helped change the tide of this war are the brainchild of Sir Clyburn Anderthorn! A man who I personally served alongside many years ago. Though we both had a little less gray upon our heads back then.”

The troops laughed at the joke and Clyburn came up to the podium.

“Soldiers of the Collective! Myself and my humble assistant Mister Wainwright have worked alongside young Fenton to create these pillars. Now, Mister Wainwright doesn’t like speaking much, rather reclusive, just the culture of the bog islands where he hails from. Let me tell you how…”

Thankfully Clyburn was more than happy to cover for him. The man spoke at length of the creation process of the pillars, crediting Orodan for the metalwork, listing Fenton’s achievements and barely mentioning his own Engineering and Artificing work that had gone into them.

The remainder of the speech went smoothly as Clyburn was savvy enough to spare both Fenton and Orodan from having to speak, with all three of them having shiny medals of valor pinned to their coats by the end of the ordeal.

Finally, the three of them were ushered into the main war tent where the Admiral and a number of Transcendent-level commanders were.

Frankly, right from the get-go, Orodan was focused on appearing as inconspicuous as possible around these Transcendents. All of them, the Admiral and his gunslinging aide included, had the familiar influence of the previous looper over their minds and souls. And once inside, his eyes began to bleed just that much more as Vision of Purity was strained further, looking at the increased number of people who had such a spell over them.

[Vision of Purity 79 → Vision of Purity 81]

What he was doing with Vision of Purity was incredibly straining, and most people would’ve considered it the height of folly to even attempt at all, let alone maintain it continuously. Yet the gains were good.

“Your eyes are bleeding Mister Wainwright… are you alright?” the Admiral asked.

“I’m fine. Just a side effect of working too hard on the pillars. It shall pass,” Orodan deflected.

“An odd side effect… first time I’ve ever heard of such a thing,” the man said.

“Mister Wainwright’s bog island upbringing has had him focus on some odd skills not conventionally taught. Needless to say, the results are undeniably effective,” Clyburn once again said, attempting to divert attention. “He has had spells of such a side effect before. It shall pass.”

“If you say so Clyburn,” Admiral Goodwin said, leading them to a separate part of the war tent where he sat down behind a table and bade them take seats. “Now then… watching the lad squirm was funny, but not why you’re actually here.”

“S-so you admit the whole speech was a bloody set up!” Fenton exclaimed, and the Admiral laughed at the boy’s outrage.

“Of course it was! Given the number of meetings your actions have brought upon me, watching you flounder was a pleasure,” the man said with an evil chuckle. “But I’ll try to limit those lest Lawson here puts a bullet in my leg for bullying you too much.”

A glare and snort from the gunslinger was all the Admiral got in turn.

“Anyhow, I can see you wish to speak with us,” Clyburn remarked. “What did you need Admiral?”

“What do I need from you personally? Not much. What does the Collective need from you? Quite a lot,” the man said, throwing a sheaf of papers to him across the table. “I apologize Clyburn… but it seems there’s more work for you yet.”

“T-this is…”

“A grant of royal authority and an ample-sized property in Storven,” the man said. “Your guild’s holdings will be expanding to the capital now. Much work I’m afraid.”

“Stop presenting it like some burden,” the gunslinger to the Admiral’s side said. “It’s supposed to be a reward.”

“Ah, right, is that what they call a reward nowadays? I’d have preferred a vacation trip to the Archipelagos and some fine tropical drinks in my hand myself…” Admiral Goodwin muttered. “Now I can understand if you want to refuse-”

“No! Not at all. I accept, we accept,” Clyburn immediately answered. “This… is a crown-ordered uplift of the Ironhaven Engineer’s Guild to royal status… does that mean we’ve won the competition?”

The shoddy dressed man looked at Clyburn incredulously before opening a flap in the tent meant to be a window.

“Hmm… I don’t know, do you see any purple haze in the sky? Do you see any spatial rifts out there?” the man asked. “Should I do a round and ask the soldiers which project they think won the competition set up by the Crown?”

“Er… no… rather foolish of me to ask,” Clyburn admitted. “But what happened with the other submissions? Surely there might be some promising designs among them.”

“Right, there were some promising designs among them. Not much left after more than half of them were sent to the bottom of the sea,” the Admiral explained, and at Clyburn’s frown continued. “The reason our forces in the hot zone were so minimal and we were unable to reinforce you more thoroughly during the battle is because the plague broke past the perimeter.”

“How?”

“We do not know. You in fact arrived earlier, without an escort, and were able to fend off the attempt on your ship. The other projects making for the front lines weren’t so lucky,” the man explained. “When I approached you at the checkpoint speaking of concerning developments, that was what had occurred. Plague forms broke through after our spatiomancers failed to contain the perimeter, and our fleets were mainly tied up with exterminating those.”

“What a devious thing the hive minds behind the plague are…” Clyburn muttered.

“Quite. It’s why this appointment of your guild to royal status and the bestowal of crown properties within Storven isn’t as much of a reward as you would think,” the man clarified. “With what your devices are capable of… we need your help. The plague may have retreated for now… but as we’ve seen here, and with that incident at Castle Ironpeak three months ago… they are capable of infilitrating Lonvoron. Why they haven’t played their hand yet, we do not know. But we need to secure our world against clandestine infilitration. With the Inquisition in the midst of a vehement purge of their own ranks, the King feels that role should go to you and your Guild.”

“A heavy responsibility… I would expect King Alstatyn himself would be here to say it. Is he indisposed?” Clyburn asked.

“Meeting with someone in regards to these recent developments,” Admiral Goodwin said. “But fret not. In a months’ time there will be a royal ceremony in Storven where the King shall officially reward all of you. In the meantime, this is the charge you’ve been burdened with.”

Clyburn appeared to be in deep thought, reading the papers before him. Orodan too had no doubt that the Blackworth Collective’s King had gone to have a meeting with the previous looper. If the Eldritch were capable of sneakily having their agents infilitrate worlds, then just purging plague worlds with Fenton’s devices and beating the infected in conventional battle wouldn’t be enough.

Furthermore, Orodan knew exactly why the Prophet hadn’t yet played its hands and attempted a full-blown infection of Lonvoron. The Warrior. He hadn’t yet seen it in this loop, but Orodan knew that the Warrior appeared whenever the Prophet crossed some unknown threshold of meddling.

The threat of facing the mightiest Administrator of them all was likely what kept the Prophet from playing its hand just yet. Not when it had yet to find the previous looper and Reject’s Mantle.

“Very well,” Clyburn suddenly spoke up. “I accept this charge. I will have some of my engineers begin relocating to the capital while some administrative staff begin recruitment efforts to get our new branch up and running. To that end, the crown’s generous stipend listed here will prove more than adequate.”

“Always eager to accept more work…” Admiral Goodwin said with a smile. “But I suppose it’s a good thing you’re taking this on. Means I won’t have to! Hahah!”

The Transcendent gunslinger merely shook her head in disappointment.

“And who will command the void fleets? You’re not on vacation yet you fool!”

The man was brought back to reality and could only sigh in dejection. Regardless if Clyburn took over the project of securing Lonvoron against clandestine Eldritch activity, the Admiral’s work didn’t exactly stop.

“I’m surprised the Crown hasn’t reprimanded you for your antics yet, Admiral…” Clyburn muttered under his breath. “Anyhow, while I accept this charge… I cannot do it alone.”

“Eh? You’ll have all the crown’s funding, what do you mean by alone?” the Admiral asked.

In response to that, Clyburn looked to Fenton.

“Me? I’m happy to help you Mister Clyburn but me mum-”

“Will have a most lavish mansion in the capital. I could use your help Fenton,” Clyburn said.

“If she’s coming with… then alright, I agree. Can’t wait to work on more machines in your Guild! Never been part of a Guild before…”

“I wouldn’t get too excited young Fenton, while you’ll be working with me part-time, the majority of your time will be spent at a particular location,” Clyburn said. “If you’ve done all this with just a roughshod education from myself and some basic textbooks… then what more could you achieve with quality instruction? I believe it’s time for you to get a proper education my young friend.”

“Wait… you can’t mean…”

“Indeed I do. It’s time for you to attend one of the magical universities… in fact, I’d been meaning to sponsor you for a long time now.”

“But… but… I hate classrooms!” Fenton protested. “I don’t want to sit in a stuffy room and read all day while a bunch of blue-bloods surround me!”

Orodan however… could only burst out laughing.

“Oy! What’re you laughin’ for Mister Orodan!?”

Fenton truly was like him. Oh how Orodan had also hated the prospect of reading books and languishing in an Academy… but it had given him so much perspective and helped his development immensely. Fenton too, could only benefit from this arrangment.

“While I’m sure young Fenton’s suffering might be amusing, you’ll have plenty of work ahead of you too, Mister Wainwright,” Clyburn said. “After all, I’ll need an assistant Guild leader to help me manage all my work in Storven.”

“Wait… what?”

“Yes, I know I’m the head of the guild, but I’ll need an assistant. And who better than you to help with all the various problems that will crop up? My right hand.”

An assistant guild leader?

As Fenton now laughed at him, Orodan could only wonder what he’d gotten himself into.

Storven and a world of politics, subterfuge and guilds awaited. It was the center of the Blackworth Collective’s power, where Fenton would attend university and where Orodan himself would have the chance to learn new skills and hone his existing ones. And to top it off, he was certain that Lord Morvale and his jealous associates would cause further problems for Clyburn there too.

And in a months’ time, it would be where they had a reward ceremony with the King.

But that aside, he also had Luetta’s trial of ascension to think of, and the matter of getting in touch with the Conclave. Fenton’s background was also a question which warranted further investigation, and his search for the previous looper in the hopes of getting a lead on true soul genesis was the main reason he was on Lonvoron to begin with. But really, all this was but a backdrop to the looming threat of his true enemy.

Who knew how the Prophet and its Eldritch minions would respond to the setbacks they had suffered? They hadn’t entirely been defeated either, and certainly had a reserve of force yet remaining.

The upcoming days appeared peaceful on the surface, but Orodan had a feeling that things wouldn’t remain quiet for long.