Chương 5: Book 1, Chapter 5: Lessons in Order

By the time evening rolled around, John had crammed a good portion of a notebook full of symbols with approximated pronunciations underneath, and Yuki had a chunky primer of impromptu math and physics homework, given how much of his explanations were flying over her head. Needless to say, they both needed a break. Still, he had to wonder: was the local math just not advanced enough to have an equivalent to calculus?

Then again, Yuki had been imprisoned for who knew how many years; it was entirely possible that calculus had been developed while she was gone, and she merely hadn't had time to learn it. Still, he'd have to correct that before getting into the weeds. John had included many problems at various skill levels covering different aspects, so he'd get an idea of where her skill level rested, at least, even if she didn't know modern mathematics.

John would probably be practicing these words in the mirror for the rest of the night, leaving plenty of time for her to see how far she could get. John winced at the thought of hearing his awful, scratchy voice even more, but he resolved to power through. Not as if it'd get better without training, no? The idea of walking through a city again, even if they were unfamiliar streets and talking with people again… A faint smile flickered onto his lips.

Yuki was surprisingly pleasant company, of course, even if much of their conversations were utilitarian in nature, thanks to his still lacking vocabulary, but having options wouldn't go amiss. All at once, he recalled the vines he hadn't quite finished clearing yesterday and some other assorted chores and got up from the picnic table they were occupying, stretching.

"I think I have some things to do before night," he wrote. Yuki said nothing but smiled, the kitsune's gaze lingering on him before slowly trailing to the notebook half-sticking from one of his shirt's pockets. He perked up, pulling it out and flipping to page three. He scanned down to a familiar character, mouthing the phonetic approximation he had written below several times before steadying himself.

"Goodbye," he said, his voice low and quiet to avoid putting strain on it. The kitsune's grin widened, and she gave him an appreciative nod.

"Good effort," she replied in quickly written characters, "What do you need to do before nightfall? It seems things dragged on a bit long." At that, she glanced toward the evening sun, long shadows dancing across the courtyard from the trees and mighty walls as it slid ever lower.

"It is light work," he replied, "You should rest up." She rolled her eyes and exposed the bandage, tapping where it was already bulging due to her body forcing more of the gauze from the site of the wound.

"Thanks to your medicine, I'll likely be healed by tomorrow evening. Besides, I merely wish to watch," she wrote, and John almost reflexively denied her before giving it more thought. She wasn't a regular person, so perhaps it was okay? Whatever kitsune were made of was certainly sterner stuff than him; she had walked on that leg for who knew how long. What was a bit of walking going to do, delay her absurd regeneration by a few hours? It's not as if he was going to do anything terribly strenuous.

He nodded, and the kitsune gave him a slight bow back as he turned to leave. No words passed between them as they walked over to the fields past the workshop. What was once a field cleared off for training or drills had been transformed into a small paddock of wheat and native raspberries to supplement his foraging, then later into rolling rows of a veritable menagerie of crops from seeds he had scavenged from the occasional overturned wagon in the woods.

Tomatoes grew a few rows over from potatoes, and a few more down were herbs and spices that had no English equivalent sprouted in neatly spaced rows. The fence around the edge was more for show than anything, built out of paranoia rather than practicality. Nothing that could clear the tall walls would be deterred by a four-foot-high barrier, no matter how solid it may be. However, the mesh, located about twelve feet above the ground, was much more useful.

Throughout the fields sat various oak logs, acting as pillars holding several sheets of mesh blanketing the entire area. Inspired by the shade houses of home, John managed to weave netting from various fibres, binding and preserving it with a less processed version of the sap he cast his arcane focuses in.

It was durable enough to catch bits of debris when the windstorms rolled through, stopping them from flattening his crops, and was more than enough of a deterrent for birds, who seemed able to overcome whatever aversion effect this place had when prompted by tasty unguarded seedlings. Below that hung shafts of wooden dowelling, and hanging from those were metal sunshades with a single simplified golf-ball-sized focus in each. Heat and light beat down from each glowing red orb, arranged in rows.

The crops that needed more sun were placed directly under them, with those that required less far out or even entirely outside of their cones, as per their needs discovered by a long period of trial and error or through strange herbology texts mired in superstition. He'd love to get a hold of that medicinal bush that can only grow in "sanctified" soil at the base of some mountain and see what the hell the actual growing conditions were, as he was damn sure he could provide them at this point.

Maybe it was strict watering and sun requirements? Soil PH? All of those were pretty easy to manage. Yuki stilled upon seeing the sun lamps, the tall kitsune homing in on them like a beacon. A few seconds later, she strode past John to lean on one of the fence posts and stare into the lights in a way that almost made his eyes water just watching her. They gave out barely any UV, so it wouldn't be the worst for her eyes, but still, he couldn't imagine it was pleasant. Maybe it was a strange kitsune thing?

Whatever she did earlier was almost certainly linked directly to the Sun. Maybe her magic let her stare into the Sun as much as she wanted, so this was no big deal, but that raised even more questions. Yuki squinted a bit, seemingly not due to the light, but to see something more clearly. Would she be resistant to lasers? Could Yuki use lasers, given they would be well in the wheelhouse of assorted light powers? How about heat in general? Could she stick a hand into a fire?

Would Heat E08 even work on her, should it come to that? The kitsune reached up, standing on her tippy… paws as she held the back of her hand up to the light, soaking it in, almost like she was testing it like one would water before jumping in. With a smile and a satisfied nod, she settled back down, turning back to John before writing, "These extend your growing season?" The question shook him from his paranoid musings, and he quickly wrote, "Yes.

They also accelerate their growth by giving them more light than they'd normally get, and I believe the fire aspected magic helps. I can't leave them on all night, though, without risking one burning out due to overheating. I've also yet to figure out how to hook them all up to a long enough timer, as they're all independent right now, and that'd be a lot of extra work to make central controls." The kitsune nodded along, turning to curiously scan his crops afterward.

Crouching down and reaching out, Yuki felt the leaves of a strawberry plant between her fingers, examining it for some aspect or fault that was beyond him. Satisfied, she released it and stood back up straight, a faint smile on her muzzle. She spoke aloud, and it took John a few moments to recognize the words, but he eventually figured out that she said, "What is next?" John went to reply, only to realize that he still couldn't remember the words to answer.

"Cleaning the outside wall of vines so things can't climb in," he wrote, and at that, they left, no more conversation passing between the pair as John led them to the walls. The man scrambled up the sloped wall, only to wince once as he stood at the top. While the old steps being busted wasn't a problem for him, it was far more impactful for someone with an injured leg.

He began to write, "Actually, you may want to," only getting that far before Yuki crouched down and leapt, supernatural might propelling her into the air far, far higher than any human could jump. The kitsune settled next to him gently, with hardly a whisper of noise on the rough wooden floor as she landed.

There was no wasted energy to her movement; the top of her jump's arc was hardly higher than the edge of the wall, showing either a lot of luck in that she made it up here at all or an incredible mastery over her body despite its injured state. He was tempted to believe the latter. Scratching out his prior message, he wrote, "Is your leg okay?" and held it up for her to see as soon as she righted herself, brushing some dust off her kimono.

"Why wouldn't it be?" she wrote, the soft confusion on her expression entirely baffling him. Why wouldn't it be? Because you just leapt twelve feet into the air on an injured leg with a gouge taken out of it, you absolute maniac! He didn't write that, though. That'd be too much.

"Just making sure," he replied, "I was worried about that maybe tearing open your wound again." Yuki glanced down at her thigh like this was the first time it occurred to her that such feats of athleticism were not a normal thing for someone to do while bearing what should be a life-altering injury.

"I've done worse when injured," she wrote like that was supposed to reassure him. Whatever. He would probably change her bandages in about an hour or so, and he could ensure she wasn't exploding her tendons then. Whatever damage was done was already done, and she couldn't have put herself in a worse state than how she showed up. It was still strange to think of someone recovering from… that injury as not an if but a when, and healing in a matter of days on top of everything.

John could have really used some of that healing factor a few times, that's for sure.

"Understood," he replied verbally and, much to his distaste, his voice still came out weak and brittle. Without a further word, he returned to where he had left off the day before, prior to his first encounter with Yuki. As always, trimming back the vines was easy work. Aim, position fingers, release safety, fire, sweep. The plants grew brittle and froze solid instantly before crumbling, much to his surprise.

John jolted, confusion written across his face before remembering he had taken the Heat focus out of the gauntlet earlier to show Yuki. Right. Still, it didn't matter terribly much either way; the creeping vines were annihilated just as quickly by extreme cold as by extreme heat, and a bit of frost forming on the stones wouldn't hurt anything.

The man glanced over to his companion, embarrassed about his gaffe and trying to devise an excuse for why his own spell scared him, but she seemed entirely transfixed on the wall below. Her ears were pointed forward, and her golden gaze radiated intensity as she stared down the fragile remnants of the greenery below. Bending over, she snagged one of the stems nearing the top and trivially broke it free, the rest of the remnants tumbling below.

Where once was a vibrant green was now a motley mix of purples and browns, the main body splitting in spots. However, it did not droop. The freeze was too fast and too violent to allow that. No, it'd doubtlessly borderline disintegrate as it defrosted, but for now, it was more akin to thin ice, fragile as a layer over a pond after the first freeze.

Yuki examined the leaves between her fingers like the earlier strawberries, but rather than bending, the chunk crumbled in her hands the instant she put any pressure on it. Raising her hand to face level to examine it one last time, Yuki's slitted eyes gave her an intimidating countenance as she focused before gently blowing and scattering the remnants like dust in the wind.

"It's strange to see the mastery over heat and cold taken so far without fire and ice themselves showing up," she jotted down.

"Why is that?" he replied, as always, his writing looking sloppy in comparison.

"Pure heat and cold are exacting to use at scale, especially at a distance, but flame and ice are much more forgiving as they inherently keep themselves together. Perhaps it's another consequence of your unique style of techniques," the kitsune mused. He supposed that made sense. Sure, many things he used were complicated to make, but he only had to get them right once, and he worked out the math in advance on top of that.

A conventional caster had to be able to do them consistently under pressure without the same mathematical background, a feat that still baffled him. He couldn't even imagine doing all that by feel as arrows were streaking by his head or as a soldier was charging him with a spear, even if the fire was "easier". Maybe the locals just had minds built differently than his to accomplish that. John shook his head, writing out a reply and showing it to her.

"I guess. When you think of it purely physically, what you think of as heat and cold are pretty simple since they're more or less the same thing." He effortlessly scythed through another section of plant matter, continuing his trek down the wall. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. He didn't hear Yuki's footsteps follow him as he moved to clear another few sections. He didn't begrudge her for wanting a quick rest or to gather her thoughts, though.

Maybe the jump took more out of her than she thought. John frowned at that. Perhaps he ought to tell her to wait at the top of the wall when he got down; it probably wouldn't take John more than a few minutes to make a basic ladder with what was in storage. He'd just been putting it off. John tapped the focus on his wrist and felt it getting hot from overuse, and, on top of that, his stores of water-aspected mana were getting low.

Without further thought, he swapped in the heat focus and continued, content to empty out his supplies of flame-aspected mana while he let the former recharge. Sure, it needed a bit of order, too, and a bit more entropy, but they were hardly being sipped. It still felt weird to call it "flame" aspected mana, as he knew it was more than just that… but he struggled to come up with a better definition.

The eight types he read about of "base" mana, that is water, fire, earth, and air for the material four and gravity, emptiness, order, and chaos for the immaterial four, all had implications and abilities that made all those names feel like a gross oversimplification, at best.

At the very least, entropy was a better name than "chaos" for the last of them, but he couldn't fault the natives for not knowing about that; modern thermodynamics were probably hard enough to discover without outright magic muddying the waters of what was and wasn't how things worked. He knew he'd assume some natural laws were entirely different if he had to discover them in this land and wasn't working off a pre-existing knowledge base.

He heard footsteps to his side and saw Yuki approach, pointing to another new note on a page.

"What did you mean when you said heat and cold are the same?" it read. Speaking of thermodynamics, he supposed he should have seen that coming, too. How best to explain this? He didn't know how much she knew, so it was best to start with the basics. Even then, finding the right words to describe it was a struggle.

"Sorry. I don't know the best words for this. Everything has a certain amount of energy; the literal translation in your language is internal energy, including the coldest thing you can think of. What we feel and think of as 'heat' is actually the transfer of this energy, not the energy itself, which is temperature, something that's absolute." It took him a moment to come up with an example, much to his embarrassment.

"Think of how metal on a summer day can feel hotter than the air despite being heated by the same sun. That's because it transfers and absorbs 'heat' better. The processes of the heat and cold focuses are similar. Both of them create a thin shell of order-aspected magic, which is used to contain the effect. Second, they flood the area with carefully shaped chaos magic, which increases the heat transfer rate of the air.

The only real way they differ is that the heat focus then bathes the area in extra energy for targets to absorb, and the cold focus creates a heat sink toward the side to move the energy out of it." He held up the sprawling explanation to the fox, letting her read it. Still, he wished that his vocabulary was more expansive. There was so, so much he wished to convey, but he had no idea if she even had proper concepts of thermal conduction, convection, or radiation, never mind how to write it…

Then there was the mess of temperatures below absolute zero and their strange implications, but he refused to touch that without a solid pre-existing knowledge base. Her face scrunched as she read it over several times, trying to decipher his doubtlessly frustratingly imprecise explanation. The kitsune gently grabbed the paper from his hands to read it more carefully, puzzling it out step by step.

"So, you aren't blasting the area with an incredible amount of heat or cold?" she wrote, interest clear in her expression.

"No," he replied verbally, shaking his head before writing out his reply, "That requires far more flame-aspected mana for the same effect and would negatively affect the area around you. It's far easier to have the air do the heavy lifting." At that, the kitsune chuckled.

"Normally, a trick like that would require the correct compound magic and years of careful practice to pull off consistently, but I suppose you only have to get it right once, don't you?" She paused, looking out into the evening's fading light. Ugh, compound mana. John had seen it described in manuals as meaning being given to primal mana, fusions and refinements to define them and make them stronger, more "useful."

Where there was generic flame and air would be light, or from order and water would be ice, both far more potent and able to achieve niche effects than their base counterparts… for natives, at least. It'd be wonderful if they weren't almost impossible for him to synthesize and use, even disregarding them not being naturally present in the local magic field.

To store one, he would need an entirely new capacitor in his gauntlet with a wholly unique design, as the native crystals didn't seem to come in those types and would break if he tried to put something non-matching in. The only real option would be to combine the aspects before they reached the focus in a secondary node, which would inherently add another module and a lot of bulk and weight, not to mention another output slot so they don't contaminate the other mana, and that'd be just to add one.

And that was without even going into the shitshow of trying to combine it in a focus in a kind of weird just-in-time logistics nightmare, where the energy required to combine them would almost certainly destabilize the other aspects in the greater magic superstructure. Maybe it was more manageable when you could adapt your flesh or soul or however it worked for the natives to hold it, but he didn't have that option.

"Yes," he sighed, again putting his limited speech to full use before writing out the rest of his response.

"It'd probably make things simpler," he admitted, "But I have the skills to make a bunch of little optimizations here or there to ease things." Once he finished writing, he trimmed another section of the vines. Only a few left now.

"Watch," Yuki said, the towering kitsune stepping past him, carefully maneuvering her fluffy tails to the side so she didn't brush against him by accident. She breathed in and out, raising a hand… or should it be paw, now that he thought of it? She closed her eyes. And a flood of darkness spilled forth. He was not too proud to admit that he jumped.

John expected a bright light or a laser, but inky blackness spilled forth from her palm like a living thing, writhing and angry as it spilled down the side like a dense gas. It felt wrong. Alien. Hostile, in an indescribable way that filled his core with dread just looking at it. The shadow was soundless, almost eerily so, as it crawled its way down inch by inch, engulfing stone under an impenetrable shroud as it went.

As soon as it reached the base, Yuki closed her hand into a fist, cutting off the flow, and it started to dissipate like early morning fog. Where there were once vines was… nothing. It was like the wall had been picked clean of all life, like a swarm of insects descending on carrion. There were no vines, no moss, or even the husks he left in his wake. They were just… gone, and he couldn't even begin to approximate the mechanism behind that. He shivered. Did Yuki annihilate them entirely?

Surely not; the energy released would be incomprehensible. Did she just… consume it somehow? That felt closer, but still wrong. John took an involuntary step back as his body fought to drive him into full flight. Whatever that magic was, he doubted what little warding he had would do any good against darkness stripping him away until not even bones remained. The mere thought of something immaterial peeling back or dissolving layer after layer… It was like seeing magic for the first time all over again.

Yuki looked toward him, and he fought down the urge to flinch by biting down on the inside of his cheek, drawing a trickle of blood. She was his guest and had no intention to harm him; he had already established this, so why was he still so terrified? It'd make no sense for her to make a deal for information just to mangle him. Concern etched itself across her face, and she went to speak before stopping herself, momentarily frustration flashing in her eyes before she suppressed it.

"Are you alright?" she wrote. It was only reasonable that he should be, and John thought of himself as a logical man. Nodding, he took a moment to still the trembling of his limbs and wipe any fear from his face before writing out, "I was just a bit surprised." The explanation came easily to him. He felt a lot like a child fibbing to his parents. A frown remained on her face as she looked him up and down with a searching gaze before she sighed, smiling once more in a way that felt strained.

"I see," she wrote, "In any case, that was compound magic in action. Mine is a bit stranger than most, but I figured it'd interest you to see how someone from this land might accomplish such a task." John had to admit, despite all his fear, it certainly was unlike anything he had seen before. He might have even learned a lot if he had his instruments on hand, but alas, he had not. Maybe he'd ask her to repeat that later, once he had all his equipment ready and a distant, safe vantage to watch from.

He forced a smile onto his face.

"Good idea. Maybe later, though? I don't have everything I'd want for learning on me. Visual observations can only get me so far." Yuki seemed confused momentarily before revelation flashed across her expression. Then, she smiled and shook her head.

"You're right. It's easy to not grasp all the nuance of you not being from around here," she admitted in flowing script.

"Shall we finish up?" He shakily nodded, heading past her to scour the few remaining sections, but he couldn't quell his whirling thoughts. What was her deal? In the past, it felt safe to assume that it was some sort of light-themed deal, with lasers and maybe some kind of teleportation or absurd hard-light nonsense stacked on top, but that had been thoroughly disproven. Was it darkness and light as one unit? Was the duality between them the point, or did she just happen to understand both?

Hell, she could be the equivalent of a generic mage able to do many things, for all he knew! Still, darkness shouldn't act like that. Was it somehow more conceptual than purely physical in nature? The concept alone was worrying. How do you predict the capabilities of something like that, and how far could she stretch it? Did it imply a sort of universal consciousness that set the rules for concepts?

His wild theorizing consumed his mind for the rest of his work, driving him wild with various "ifs" and "ands," but at least it made the time go by. Soon enough, they had finished up, and with that, the last pressing work for the night was done; everything else could wait until tomorrow. He would have loved to clean up the courtyard too, but he could let it slide for now, given doing the walls had the actual tangible purpose of keeping the local monstrous wildlife out. Still, that was another thing.

The inside edge of the wall was barely higher than the outside, and Yuki easily cleared that with a single leap. If she could, why couldn't the monsters? It wasn't like there weren't gaps between the stones for them to grab onto, and many of them had longer limbs than her. He made a mental note to investigate later. Pulling out more paper, he wrote, "By the way, would you like salmon or pheasant tonight? Potatoes and mixed greens will probably be the sides," before showing it to Yuki.

After reading it, she looked at him owlishly, blinking before hesitantly answering, "Either is fine with me, but pheasant would be nice." Did he violate some cultural more by asking the guest to decide? Whatever, he could deal with that later, and it's not like she seemed offended. Nodding, he made to skitter down the wall… only to feel that damned tablet shake in his pocket for the second time in a few days. John hurriedly pulled it out, noting that 3C was lit up again, like yesterday when Yuki arrived.

Damn it all, when it rained, it fucking poured, didn't it? It could be an animal, but he wouldn't take that chance. A moment later, the light faded… only to light up again. Two distinct groups. One chasing the other? It had to be. He tensed, ready to sprint to the north gate, but John saw Yuki gesture, drawing his attention.

"What's wrong?" she spoke, and some small part of him was proud that it only took him a moment to decipher it. He was learning fast… faster than he should be, actually. Hmm. Something to investigate.

"Something is coming the same way you came from. Two distinct groups, at least two beings," he hastily wrote before taking off, with her paws landing heavily a few paces behind him. Having her at his back while knowing even a bit of what she could do sent a chill up his spine, but his conscious mind knew that if she wanted to overtake him, she would have already. He felt the security tablet pulse again in his pocket, what must be C2 lighting up before dimming, and, a few seconds later, it vibrated again.

Definitely two distinct parties, then, and if there was any doubt before, the speed they triggered the second made it clear that they were running. Things were going too fast. What if they were some of the people hunting Yuki? He could try to tell her to take cover, but he'd have to stop to write, and that'd cost them valuable time. He glanced back towards her idly, only to behold the strangest sight.

As she ran, she was coiling her nine tails together, a surprising amount of prehensility on display as the bushy limbs twisted around one another in groups of three… only to give them a shake, the fur fluffing up before settling. Where there were once nine tails, there were now what looked like three big, bushy ones. It certainly wouldn't help if someone already knew who she was…

but perhaps the difference would be enough to soften the blow in other cases, as three-tailed kitsune were presumably a smaller deal than nine. And C1 was going off, with the first's pursuer not far behind them. The two stopped atop the gate, and John considered diving down low like he did the first time before halting himself. Instead, he crouched by one of the slits in the top of the edge for archers, writing out a quick message to Yuki saying, "Shouldn't you be hiding in case it's your pursuers?"

before resting his gauntlet on the edge, pointing it towards the road. The kitsune shook her head, replying with a hasty "It isn't," and posted up at his side, standing tall. Her stance looked relaxed at first glance, but he could see the tension in her muscles, like she was a coiled industrial spring waiting to go. He didn't bother trying to argue with her. Her ears perked and went to the road far before he heard anything, but soon enough, he heard the rapid patter of shoes on gravel…

and the heavy crunches and rattles of people in heavy equipment not far behind them. Around the corner stumbled a young man and woman, terrified expressions rictus across their faces. Both bore dark hair, but the former bore the antlers and ears of a deer, and the latter only the ears. They were almost to the gate when they spotted the pair of them upon the apex, and they froze on the spot, staring up in what seemed to be awe.

It was then that six men in heavy layers of laminar armour with spears and axes drawn came onto the scene.