Chương 96: B2 Chapter 38: Fraying Strings

Carlos looked up as his pondering of their new discoveries was interrupted by a polite tapping on the tent's entry flap. He recognized the feel of Ressara and diverted one of his minds to whatever she was here about. He frowned as he noticed a feeling of hesitance and tension in how her mana flowed.

"Come in, Ressara. What's going on with you? You realize you can call on us from anywhere through Purple, right?" Ressara closed the tent flap behind her and stood, fidgeting nervously.

"Doing that would feel rude, my lord. I'm sorry to bother you, but when I compressed my essence to Level 32 half an hour ago, I felt 5 of my 7 soul structures somehow combine into 1, and my rate of absorbing aether decreased drastically. I'm… guessing that you know more about why this happened and what to do about it than I do." Carlos nodded calmly.

"Oh, right, you're at that level. Trinlen had the same issue just the other day. Come to think of it, is there anyone else in the camp that we should be planning about for this? Hmm…" He quickly reviewed the list of everyone in camp, then shook his head.

"No, everyone else here is either already handling it or already above our level. So anyway, just make some new structures to fill out the space that the merge freed up – and mind your synergies in planning them!" Ressara stared with one eyebrow raised.

"Is it really just… that simple? If so, how is this not common knowledge? Why aren't people constantly stumbling over it all the time?" Carlos blinked and paused to consider.

"Huh. Good question. Well, to start with, it only happens if you have a group of enough soul structures that have every possible synergy pairing within the group. For it to happen at Level 32, you need a group of 5 structures like that. Though, is that really that rare?"

"It isn't." Amber stirred from her silent contemplation next to Carlos.

"It's common enough that I've heard rumors of the consequences. Rumors of promising adventurers reaching a plateau where their advancement inexplicably slows. I didn't pay much attention because it was always about levels high enough that I figured I'd be lucky to even get that far in the first place, but thinking about this brought it to mind." Ressara nodded.

"Right, the prodigal limit. I've heard of that too. But if overcoming it is just a matter of making new soul structures, why isn't the solution just as widely rumored as the problem?" Carlos cocked his head and pursed his lips.

"Well, it is widely known among nobles. So, there's that. For commoners, though… Hmm." He started thinking it over. We've been making new soul structures by taking essence from our existing ones, but most people can't do that because they don't have anything similar to a soul editor. How do normal nobles do it? Wait, come to think of it, using existing essence felt kind of redundant once we moved farther into areas with higher-level aether.

The flood of high-level aether coming in through an existing soul structure and decompressing to Level 0 provided more than enough material, and even leveled up the new ones several times before we even finished making them. The absorption rate was intolerably anemic only when the available aether merely matched our level. His eyes widened in realization.

"Ah, I think I have it. How often do normal adventurers go into areas with aether that's above their level?"

"Rarely. High-level aether produces equally high-level dangers." Ressara gasped lightly.

"Oh! People need high-level aether to be able to absorb enough of it to make a new structure with?" Carlos and Amber both nodded.

"Exactly. Judging by my own experience, someone who doesn't have a way to work around the issue would have to focus on making the new structure literally for days, even going without sleep."

"I see." Ressara bowed deeply.

"Thank you again, my lords. My apology for the interruption." Carlos waved off her apology.

"Don't worry about it, you're a highly-valued employee, and this isn't even taking a quarter of my attention. Please feel free to ask for our opinions on any potential soul structures you consider. With how valuable your novel ideas have already been so far, I want to see what else you come up with!" Ressara blushed and bowed even deeper.

"Um. O-of course, my lord!" She turned and hastily made her exit. Royal Guard Captain Yolon shook his head in disappointment yet again and his survey of the surrounding lands once again found no threats to Castle Lerjen. Come on, it's been 5 days since that disgraceful failure of an attack here. Don't tell me that's all you've got! He resumed his vigilant patrol of the battlements.

He soon came across a House Lerjen soldier who was so flagrantly flouting his duties that he was actually lounging against the wall with his back turned.

"Hey! Attend to your post, soldier!" The soldier lazily glanced at him and laughed.

"Why bother? With you here, there's no point. Even if someone attacks, which seems unlikely after the humiliating defeat you already handed out, you'll handle it on your own." Yolon stood silent and still for a moment, frozen in the struggle to hold back his indignant anger. Finally, he hit on an appropriate response.

"What is your name, and who is your commander? We'll see what they think of this." The soldier huffed and smirked at him.

"Atchik, and Sergeant Ritjam. Go ahead, I don't care." Yolon nodded sharply.

"I'll be back shortly, with your sergeant." More than an hour later, Yolon was in his third successive argument with yet another officer in Atchik's chain of command.

"How do you not get this!? A soldier who is standing guard should be alert and, you know, on guard! That a more powerful guard is also on duty is immaterial to the issue. Such laxness is an intolerable dereliction of duty and should be punished accordingly." Major Spither of House Lerjen leaned forward over his desk.

"With respect, Captain Yolon, aren't you supposed to be on guard duty yourself right now? Why are you attempting to meddle with House Lerjen's internal affairs instead of patrolling the walls?" Yolon ground his teeth in frustration.

"Yes, I am supposed to be there right now, and I would be if your officers had responded the way they should have, resolving the matter in a bare few minutes instead of this ridiculous bureaucracy of obstinate laziness!" Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Major Spither opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the loud peal of a bell that resounded throughout the castle. He closed his mouth and just gestured toward the door.

Yolon scowled at him, but reluctantly nodded and ran out. On emerging into the open, Yolon was shocked by the sheer scale of the battle that had suddenly descended on House Lerjen. One member of his own squad in the Crown Guard was already down and the other two were hard pressed with more enemies rapidly approaching. Atchik was dead, fittingly struck down right where he'd been lounging, and the rest of House Lerjen's on-duty soldiers were being swiftly overwhelmed. This is too much for House Lerjen.

Too much for any sense! He glanced at the list his armor showed of the highest-level enemies on the field, saw more than a dozen at the low to mid 40s, including a few with multiple second-stage soul structures, and cursed. Too much even for us. Damn it, I have to call for help. He sent the signal, then jumped into action immediately. Let's see how many I can beat before the response arrives. He joined up with Corporal Fomol, fighting back to back with her as the enemy's top elites gathered to surround them.

He managed to behead one Level 43 foe, piercing through their defense in the tenth of a second disruption after an especially sweeping parry, before the unmistakable pressure of a Crown scion's presence covered the battlefield. He stepped forward, heedless of defense in the hope of scoring one more kill, but before he could land the strike, his target suddenly vanished. No attacks came to take advantage of his recklessness, either.

The enemies that had been surrounding them just a moment ago were all gone – and not because of the Crown killing them. There were no bodies. No blood. No pieces of broken armor. Nothing. They had just disappeared. In fact, the entire battlefield had become eerily quiet in just a few moments. He belatedly checked the pile of notifications from his armor that he'd been ignoring and found a long list of outgoing teleports detected.

Yolon looked up into the sky above and saw that Princess Lornera had not even moved from where she arrived yet. What the hell? That many teleports is not cheap! What are these people playing at? Prince Patrimmon Kalor looked down at the castle below him and snorted in disgusted contempt. The weaklings below had been pathetically struggling against each other when he appeared moments ago, but even that pale imitation of true battle was rapidly petering out.

He'd felt dozens of distinct flares of mana in the characteristic form of teleport spells, covering the entire fight in an almost-synchronized wave of disappearances. Four more went off as he watched. I haven't even done anything yet, and they're already fleeing. Cowards. Fitting for how weak they are, but still. He shook his head and slowly descended through the air. Why am I even here? What's the point in having me save whatever meaningless house this is from their own weakness? Lornera will owe me for this.

Protecting loyal houses from those "rotation agreement" agitators is her pet project, not mine. Patrimmon shrugged. Oh well, I suppose I should go through the charade of getting the captain's report. It'll be less of an annoyance than how much Lornera would nag me about it if I don't. Crown Princess Brenelle Kalor, first scion and heir of the Crown, appeared in the sky already looking for a target. How dare these scum attack a house under Crown Protection!

She felt the strength of each combatant and instantly picked out the strongest one that wasn't a royal guard. Yup, that one's fighting against House Ren's liveried soldiers, definitely an enemy. They'll do to start with. Brenelle shot forth with a clap of thunder, the wind parting before her bladed hands, and removed her target's head before anyone could even react.

She whirled, almost a blur to any onlookers, and slashed her hand blades through a still-forming spell on her way to the heart of the next enemy in line. Her third target vanished in the flash of a completed spell a bare instant before her strike could land, and she glared in impotent fury as the entire opposing force disappeared before her eyes. The Crown Princess narrowed her eyes and thought to herself. Savor this escape while you can, fools. The Crown's wrath will find you soon.

Prince Hinren Kalor, fourth and last scion of the Crown, watched the raiders teleport away from his mere presence and shrugged. Less work for me, I suppose. Now where's the guard captain so I can get this over with? Royal Guard Captain Alamar spun like a dervish as he desperately fended off the attacks of a dozen foes. He tried the emergency signal once again, only to get the same response. No reinforcement available. Shit!

They'd been holding up well enough at first, but then more attackers teleported in and joined the battle. Worse, the enemy reinforcements were stronger than their original vanguard had been. He glanced at the tactical overview his armor provided and cursed to himself again. There was only one royal guard icon still present – his own. All three corporals under his command had already fallen. He parried again, and again, but the assault against him was unceasing.

His armor threw up an alert, but he couldn't spare even the slightest attention for it. He realized what it was only when the heavily enchanted arrow, fired from beyond his immediate surroundings, had already pierced his foot. Alamar stumbled, his stance disrupted, and his opponents pressed the advantage. Three heavy blows struck his armor before he could recover, and five more followed up in the next instant.

A blade punctured a slight gap that the previous hits had opened, and the point plunged into his left lung. He swept his spear across and cut off the hand that held that sword, but then a great weight fell upon him and bore him to the floor. Hands wrenched his helm upward, a blade cut his throat, and he knew no more. Deep inside Kalor Palace, Royal Guard Colonel Lunser paused in her constant surveillance of the hallway in front of her. Something feels off. What is it?

Nothing should ever feel off at the Crown's vault. She carefully scanned from left to right, wall to wall. Wait, did my eyes just skip past about a one-foot section in the middle? She narrowed her eyes and looked back, watching for the skip, and forced her gaze to the center of the gap. It felt like pressing her eyes against a wall for a moment, but then the wall started to give way. Got you, whoever you are.

Just as she started to move, preparing to strike with her spear, a pair of manacles suddenly snapped closed around her wrists and yanked them together. At the same moment, something clanged against her helm, and her vision went dark. She heard a startled exclamation from Colonel Galen on the other side of the hall, and her efforts to burst the manacles and clear her sight were disrupted by other constraints snapping into place all over her body.

She triggered her armor's emergency signal an instant before something yanked her spear from her grasp, and she was unsurprised when death came for her moments later.

"Your Majesty! A call for–" King Elston Kalor raised his right hand without looking.

"I recall ordering that I not be disturbed about developments in Lornera's project."

"It's for the vault! Here! Kalor Vault in the palace!"

"What?" King Elston's head whipped around to look at the messenger, his eyes wide in shock." Who would dare!?" He didn't wait for a reply before rushing out of the room. He left his footprints in the hardwood floor from how hard he leaped into the air, and the wind of his passage nearly shoved the messenger off of their feet. He raced through the palace, navigating its halls at breakneck speed to arrive at the vault in mere moments. He was still too late.

Both guards were dead, stabbed in the head with their own spears, the vault door was open, and the only other sign of any intruder was the fading traces of a completed outgoing teleport spell. He flew throughout the vault, taking inventory of the contents and muttering to himself.

"The inner vault is untouched, the cash reserves are still here, what else…" He came to a two-foot-wide hole in the wall and cocked his head.

"They took the secondary vault of house treasure mana signatures?" He blinked and stared for a moment.

"Why would a group of nobles angry about the Wilds want that?"