Chương 35

"Did the Imperial Sanctum make another move?" Administrator Ranya sat up straight in her desk chair and clenched her hands under the table. The aide hesitated.

"No, it appears not. Apparently the… energy burst was Kirk Albion."

"That boy-" For a brief moment, Ranya felt incandescent. Her every cell burning at one more little stumbling block tossed in her path by that pampering brat. Yet, in front of the aide, she managed to bite off her sentence. She dug her nails into the wood of her desk for a few seconds, but then relaxed.

"Anything else?"

"A few of the recent deaths had purchased investigatory coverage from the Maester Council." The aide said.

"Those reports have been prepared. Do you wish to look at the results?"

"No, just send them on," Ranya waved a hand. Suddenly, her gaze became sharp.

"As for the Rift-""The head surveyor is waiting to make their report," The aide nodded.

"Send them in," Administrator Ranya nodded. The aide bowed and departed. It was time to hear what sort of timeline they had, before the Rift Wave. It was time to hear how big a wound had been rent through Ranya's careful plans. The leader of the inspection team wore spectacles and had deep bags under his eyes. Ranya sucked in a breath; based on his current state, the news wouldn't be good. She met him not at her desk, but at the table in the middle of the room. Gesturing to a kettle, she said.

"Would you like some tea, inspector?"

"By the Architect, yes." The man slumped onto the couch. The Administrator poured the man a cup. He drank it in a single gulp.

"Ah. Hot." She poured him another, which he also threw back. He winced. Ranya raised an eyebrow.

"Congratulations are in order, Administrator Ranya." The man's mouth sagged at the ends, making his statement quite ominous.

"I've confirmed a Rift Wave, a natural one. A rare treasure will manifest, congeal, concentrate, whatever, between one and two months from now. Probably a catalytic panacea- depends on the energy and location. As per Kingdom law, once the aftermath is settled, the treasure will be yours." Ranya truly didn't care about the so-called 'treasure'.

"Considering the threat, do you recommend an intervention?" Even after a day of frenzied discussion with Balkan, Ranya couldn't decide which was worse. Endure on her own? That would jeopardize her foundation as Administrator, a key aspect of her long-pursued plan, or require her to mobilize resources she would prefer to keep hidden. Or allow an intervention from the nearby Duchy. Which would lower her standing and risk exposure anyway.

"Oh, that's unnecessary. Your Rift is relatively weak. The wave will just stir up the geo-3s." Even while grimacing, the leader held up his teacup. Ranya poured him another serving.

"When I speak to the Duke, I'll inform him that casualties will be expected. No need to worry over it, just make sure the affected zone isn't too large. Outside of the Rift, geometric energy spikes quickly fade."

"Yes, but-""One last note: you have a Tier IV subordinate, yes? Have him curtail his activities in the Rift. At that Tier, his Runes can upset the energy balance. If that happens before the treasure has formed, the process might collapse. Basically, you'll have a host of geometrics to clean up without even being paid for it!" He guzzled another teacup. His face reddened, but he set the cup down.

"Anyway, thanks for your best hospitality, but you understand, I'm sure, why I'd much prefer to be back toward the interior."

Despite Healer Michaels throwing complaints at his back, Kirk hurried into the Rift the next morning. The guards nodded to him as he reached out and touched the swirling blue energy of the Rift. At his waist was a cloth sack- a heavy chunk of metal bumped against his thighs. Kirk prayed the object, having received the tender ministrations of the Ancient Bladed Beast, would have a reaction in an environment with higher energy.

He popped into existence right above a crack in the ground, meaning Kirk had to land in a split, suspended above a deep gouge. His Bestial Senses I fed him rapid snippets of information: the forest green mist layer above, the mustard layer in the distance, and the heat of the alien world against his skin. It also flagged two geo-3s. One between his legs, climbing out of the crack, and another behind him to the left. Geo's aren't traveling alone any longer. Kirk bounced sideways as soon as he touched the ground.

His mouth shaped and produced the proper syllables. His hands were reaching up and grasping the hilt of the Larian Saber even as a fist of fire, bound by golden chains, appeared in front of him. He willed the projectile downward, even as he drew and slashed. His bronze band vibrated. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The Ember I exploded and elicited a scream. Meanwhile, Kirk hacked with the saber- but his adjustment was a bit too slow.

His strength proved just insufficient to cut directly at the other geo. He ended up just clubbing it sideways. The monster stumbled sideways and Kirk ignored his complaining muscles. He aimed the tip of the weapon and drove it through the torso of the geo. It spasmed and stilled. Kirk gave himself five seconds of panting as he listened. He heard scrabblings both up and down the slope. Grimacing, Kirk ripped his saber free, wiped it clean, and then moved up the slope with weapon drawn.

He only allowed himself a small moment to look at the source of the buzz from his bronze band, as he moved toward safer ground. You have gained the Feat Quick Reactions ✷! Your Feat Quick Chanting has gained a ✷! Two improvements, just from that? Kirk felt surprised. The strange suddenness of those Feats nudged him toward a new theory. As always, the mist barrier left him isolated, completely blanketing his senses. He burst through the forest green layer, ready for another ambush.

But luckily, the slope was clear of all but vein trees. Sighing, Kirk urged his tired body forward and found shelter between two boulders. Only then did he hunker down, take a swig of water, and reflect. Kirk opened the sack and pulled out the artificial core. Even with the dense energy of the Rift, its runes had lost their luster. But it wasn't an entire waste.

"The Archetypes drinking this thing's energy pushed my accumulation up, and quickly," Kirk said to himself. He wasn't sure if he had consumed all of the benefits available to him in a burst, but it got his mind spinning. Armed with two pieces of knowledge, and with the original goal of recharging the artificial core clearly impossible, Kirk didn't linger. He moved up the slope toward the return stele. On the way, he encountered a group of four Tier I Conduits.

The leader, an older woman with a lined face, stared at him.

"Younger Master Albion." He paused and looked the group over. They had applied bandages, but two were heavily wounded.

"Do you need help?"

"We- we wouldn't dare ask." A man muttered, avoiding eye contact. Kirk suppressed his irritation and tried his best smile.

"I've been carried out of the Rift before, so I'm very willing to do the same." The four looked at Kirk with alarm. But they still went along with them as he looped his arm around a wounded man's shoulder. Once they were out of the Rift, the man tried to distance himself, claiming he could walk the rest of the way, but Kirk ignored him and carried him to the Healer's quarter. Only when the man was in line did Kirk let him go and head toward Michael's tent.

"Oh, you." The Healer smirked. The man snatched up a wine bottle and took a drink. As he set it back down, he smacked his lips.

"I had an illuminating morning, with my wounded informing me they had made a deal with you. I appreciate that you are trying to get more Conduits to volunteer. But it's a waste of time."

"Why?" Kirk paused.

"The more volunteers there are, the more people you can heal."

"Do you think it's easy, wielding others' energy? There are subtle elemental differences- bah, you won't get it." The Healer shook his head.

"The real issue is that all of these people were Tier I. Their energy is only a third of what I require. Why even bother?"

"Because every three casts, the fourth is free," Kirk pointed out.

"Plus, wielding so much of other people's energy is unusual; you'll probably get a feat for it."

"What, am I supposed to just take weird actions hoping to stumble across a Feat?" Healer Michaels barked out a laugh.

"Yes," Kirk nodded. For a moment, the Healer just stared at him.

"I forget, sometimes, what you are like."

"Most people consider me very memorable." Kirk grinned. The Healer threw his hands up into the air.

"Fine, whatever, I'll flounce around with an entourage of patsies. But is there a point? It's miserable, to be completely drained. If I'm expected to feed this howling beast on scraps, I'll need them consistently."

"Being drained increases the natural recovery of Archetypes," Kirk offered.

"It hasn't even taken a week and I already noticed it."

"A future benefit," Michaels waved a hand.

"It will only take a miserable night or two for them to decide it's not worth it. Mark my words, these volunteers will flake soon, and I will have wasted my time."

"Still a free cast," Kirk countered. With a groan, the Healer got to his feet. They went outside and found the Conduit group that Kirk had helped a few days ago, who had been under orders from the Rift investigation team. The leader had bandages across his chest, but nodded.

"I'll be out of commission for a day or two. Might as well make a positive impact while I'm sitting around."

"You better be dead silent when you cry yourself to sleep tonight," The Healer snarked. But he put his hand on the trident-wielder's bicep. The two Tier I individuals could only provide a single chunk of energy, but the Tier II leader lasted three full casts. The line for healing remained long, but the worst of the wounded were handled. All the stomachs and arteries had been healed shut. Finally, it was Kirk's turn.

Although Michaels gave stern orders to a dozen individuals to stay still over the course of the night; he had used his Heal very judiciously, with just enough to close the wound. If they disobeyed, they would bleed out and he would let them. But you wouldn't, would you? Kirk thought, watching the Healer. In the end, what someone says is so much less important than what they do.

Around lunch, with the emergency handled, the Conduit team and Kirk lay and just suffered through the acute weakness and dizziness of being drained of energy. But Kirk gritted his teeth and forced himself up.

"Taking a stroll?" Terrence, the trident wielder, said. Kirk smiled.

"Something like that." He staggered around behind Michael's tent and retrieved the Larian Saber. A part of him figured it would be better not to bother with it, but he also knew that would be an easy habit to fall into. And he took the warning from the Muytta Larian very seriously. So he hefted up his saber, brought only a single waterskin and a bag of snacks, and staggered toward the Rift.

"Young Master Albion, the current rift is extremely dangerous," One guard said.

"Plus, your condition- did you not already enter the Rift today?"

"I'll feel better on the other side," Kirk said. The guards exchanged looks. Kirk sighed. Why does no one ever believe me?