D.G. Chapter 263 - MANIAC

Jiran flew southeast, outside the city and beyond the massive barrier-wall that ran a thousand kilometers—from mountain to coast. The undead beasts, only named such due to their haggard appearance, had thinned considerably since Lenton’s battle with the burgheist. Corpses littered the devastated ground as far as the eye could see, a literal plethora of density waiting to be collected. The few remaining beasts were hard at working doing just that.

Far in the distance, an explosion of dirt that reached the clouds gave away Ardon’s current position. Jiran was in no particular hurry to confront the man. Though he was anxious to return to the Valley of Melodies. His last visit had been cut short before he had a chance to dive into why the Timberlings could not ascend to the fourth tier. Not to mention the problems brewing amongst some of the Forkara clans that needed to be resolved.

With a trail of blue flames propelling him, he swept up and down the portions of the wall Ardon and Lenton had already cleared. His aura killed the stragglers while collecting all the dead beasts into a compressed ball that soon matched the great wall in height. Once it was too big to move, he left it be and continued his collections, shortly returning with another equally-sized pile of the dead. He repeated his actions three more times before stopping to admire his handiwork.

There were thousands of corpses now, most tier three and four, with a smattering of fives and sixes. The smell was revolting. Jiran couldn’t wait to get started. A mixture of Mana Transcendence and Mana Venom sank into the bodies on the surface. As they melted into pure density, Jiran spread his mana wide with the help of the framework’s synapses. He could only barely cover the huge piles and his energies dwindled rapidly due to being subjected to the open air.

He worked fast, further compressing the density inside his net of mana. It took almost fifteen minutes to finish, and during the process, he converted enough of the density to restore his spent mana and then some. While not as efficient as filtering beastmana, it was nonetheless a huge boon that made him wish creating density wasn’t a new discovery.

How many beasts have I left to rot in the sunslight because I couldn’t be bothered to eat them?

His memory was good enough to deduce the exact number but he firmly redirected his minds back to the task at hand. Once he could compress the density no further, he dropped into the middle of the sphere of swirling energies and began absorbing through everywhere except his head. Surprisingly, the pain was significantly less intense than when he converted the Templari.

Does that mean density also has a form of Concentration?

Despite being hidden behind an obfuscating wall of light, his focus was sharp on the dangerous plains around him. He filled his limbs and torso twice, then converted the little remaining density to mana. His muscles, bones, and organs greedily drank in the abundant density and his physical attributes soared to new heights. He took a deep breath, clenching his fists tight. For the first time, he made the framework tremble without the use of aura or mana.

What?! With how easy that was, I’m not far from tearing space with punches alone. I know the emperors could easily do something that ridiculous, but I’m only tier five… Just how strong will I be when I’m at two hundred percent Growth?

Curious to see his current gains, Jiran closed an eye.

NAME: Jiran of Madra

RACE: Remalon

AGE: 1

WEIGHT: 28.2 T > 30.62 T

ACCLAMATIONS: Remalonian Constitution / Scion of Mana

TIMER: N/A

TIER: 5

EXP: 1000/1000

GROWTH: 0% > 8.59%

MANA: 150

CONCENTRATION: 54

STRENGTH: 541 > 596.623

AGILITY: 541 > 596.623

ENDURANCE: 541 > 596.623

DURABILITY: 541 > 596.623

WISDOM: 541 > 565.911

INTELLIGENCE: 541 > 565.911

CHARISMA: 80

Incredible. Over forty points in my physical attributes, and twenty-five in the others. Only eight percent Growth and I’m already this much stronger. 

A nearly overwhelming desire to drop all of his plans and immediately seek out an abundant source of challenger density had Jiran licking his lips. He shook off the addiction with a vengeance, refusing to allow it to control his thoughts and actions. As always, his Remalonian Constitution came to the rescue, muting his emotions to a soft, faint warmth. He moved on, allowing himself a measure of pride in the hard-earned gains to his skills.

SKILLS:

Mana Confluence: 99 > Mana Transcendence: 100 > 111

Elemental Castigation: 56

Mana Omnis: 25

Enthralling Touch: 43 > 51

Gaze of Pediamus: 45 > 49

Manabody (Aspect - Origin of Ice): 27.81M

Armament: 14 > 26 (Current Storage - 12.3)

Mana Venom: 14 > 23

I thought the days of quick skill points were behind me. Guess I was simply lacking the right edge-of-life-and-death motivation. Crazy to have twelve times my maximum mana capacity stored in Armament. That skill is so godly. I hope Niya gets something just as good when she evolves her race.

Enthralling Touch passed fifty without a subskill, same as castigation. Since confluence evolved at one hundred, I can safely expect both of them to do the same.

I haven’t fed my aura yet today. No time like the present.

OTHER:

Adaptive Translator

Affinity System

Designation: Keynote Prime

Cartography System

Intermediary User Interface

Party System

Sanctuary 100%

UNIQUE: Foresight

Jiran pushed mana into his tap where it smoothly combined with his soulwall, swelling and stretching his aura to bursting—a process that had once brought him significant discomfort. While he was there, he altered the intent of a third of the mana, gifting it to Daughter along with a message that they would speak soon. He didn't hear her voice through his mana, but somehow got the sense that she was peacefully waiting for him.

Manabody (Aspect - Origin of Ice): 27.81M > 27.93M

Now that he was correctly feeding his aura without backlash, he could do so once per day. Additionally, judging by what he’d seen of the emperors, there was no upper limit to its size.

After living for so long, their auras must have covered thousands of kilometers. No wonder they sensed that Remalon bastard invading their territory. Wait, wouldn’t the mana needed to grow the Manabody also increase proportionally to its size? Maybe thousands of kilometers was a bit of a stretch. But it won’t be for me.

If his emotions weren’t repressed at the moment, Jiran definitely would have been chortling like a maniac. He bent his knees and jumped with all his new strength and speed. He blasted high into the sky, leaving behind a large crater and an expanding ring of dust. He left the wind unbroken and it buffeted his resilient skin in a surprisingly satisfying way.

He told Niya an hour, but now that he knew how much potential density and mana was rotting out on these plains, there was no way he was going to leave before he collected it all.

Mayalyn Aloyhee

Mayalyn sat straight with her feet tucked beneath her butt. Internally, she was nowhere near as at rest as she appeared. Her aura was currently being held inside her skin by Olive. The training unleashed an onslaught of emotional turbulence that was impossible to grow accustomed to. She didn't feel, she knew that Olive was scooping out her insides and burning them to a crisp before roughly shoving them back where they belonged.

Of course, the agony was all her own doing. Because she could not accept the failure that she had become.

To think I bragged to him about conquering my demons. How foolish. How shameful. 

Her self recriminations were but the tip of the iceberg roiling beneath the surface. Trapped within herself, the same scenes from shortly after they first met played out again. She demanded, tricked, and seduced him. She did whatever it took to stay by his side, unwilling to let such a perfect, powerful mate slip through her claws. And all the while, she was wholly unworthy.

The truth became more and more clear with each ascension. The final crack in her core was the realization that he had gone off to his arenas every tier since the second, while she had yet to go once. It was a concept she came to understand long ago, but buried deep, not allowing herself to fully grasp its significance. 

They were technically the same tier, and his powers dwarfed hers like First Father to his mate. That truth would never change. She could not go back and match his boosted ascensions. No matter how far she climbed, she would always be inferior. Never able to truly be his match, his partner, his mate.

How can I stand at his side if I cannot even reach his knees?

Tears spilled from her tightly-clenched eyes. She sagged as the scenes began to replay again, unable to watch. Olive immediately released the pressure of her aura, instead wrapping her in strong arms.

“Shh. Shh,” Olive's gentle comfort wormed into Mayalyn’s core. She lost track of time as sobs wracked her tauntingly stronger body.

“How can I feel so weak with all this new power?” She wondered aloud, not for the first time. “Oh, yes, because I am weak,” her sardonic reply to her own misery had Olive frowning. 

“You've been a tier behind me since we met, yet never once was I fool enough to think I could best you.”

Mayalyn pulled herself upright, though still stared wistfully at the floor, “I could not save my home. I could not stop them from taking you. I lacked the strength to even track you down. And once I found you, I was powerless to help. Without Jiran, I am useless.”

Olive was quick to refute her ridiculous claims, “You saved my life in that vile dungeon, at Mortan and Morothin, not to mention when we first met! To expect yourself to be capable of it every time is the height of hubris.”

Mayalyn nodded, “You are correct.” Her features scrunched as she searched for the right words, “My people, we do not mate with those weaker than ourselves.”

“But your parents aren't the same tier?”

“They were when they first bonded. There were not enough resources, and the needs of the tribe were great. Mother ascended first. She would never dream of doing so again without him catching her first. At least he can catch her…”

Jiran of Madra

Jiran ran out of corpses just shy of eleven percent Growth. Not knowing when the next time he would find such an abundant harvest, he converted more than half of the created density to mana. Armament now listed his storage at twenty-six. The skill’s internal space wasn’t full enough to expand again but that was no surprise. The mana he’d taken from the Meersvant’s flying battleship had been incredibly potent and pushed Armament to nearly five times where it was now.

Jiran was almost caught up with Ardon by the time he had the thought about the flying ship and Armament. He slammed to a halt. An adrenal cocktail of chemicals pulsed from his brain. They flushed through his blood in the form of excited heat that quickly swarmed to his skin. Breathing heavily, fingers twitching with heady anticipation, Jiran turned a few motes of mana into two small stones.

He palmed them, gazing down at not the stones themselves, but the impossible potential they represented. 

Is it possible? Will it really work?

Swallowing hard, Jiran called to the mana stored in Armament and it instantly answered his call. A tiny, almost microscopic hole opened in the air before him. From it, a tiny thread of mana leaked out to do his bidding. It wasn’t enough, he knew it wouldn’t be, but he was so excited that he was almost reluctant to take the next step.

He saved the hot rush for another full second before being unable to stand it another second. Pulling on Armament for real, a much larger hole opened and his stored mana gushed forth. This hole was more than large enough to fit his fist inside and that’s exactly what he did.

He lost feeling of the limb as soon as it crossed through the dark aperture. A command to release the stone clasped in that hand was issued. When he pulled his hand back out, the stone remained behind. Now came the true test. Altering the intent fed to Armament, he demanded the stone be brought out along with the stored mana. And come it did, in the form of a spray of dust.

What? Why dust? Was it crushed? Why wasn’t my hand crushed then? Wait… it’s my skill, and it has to hold my mana, so wouldn’t it make sense that the space inside shares the same Concentration as the rest of me?

Jiran squeezed his other hand and the second stone there cracked and crumbled in less than the beat of a heart. Jiran copied the reinforcing metal inside the outfit he’d borrowed from Ardon. A condensed hunk of the same metal grew in his palm. He didn’t know what it was, and it didn’t matter. When he squeezed it, there was hardly any yield. With a hysterical snicker, he tossed it inside Armament and let it sit there for a minute.

Upon command, his mana easily located the foreign object and ejected it in almost the exact same state as when he tossed it inside.

That ship is way tougher than this metal. And that cannon. All those formations I want to study. I can bring it all back at once. Those filthy Graymin aren’t going to know what hit ‘em.

This time, Jiran did throw his head back, releasing peals of maniacal laughter into the air.

Armament: +8