Chapter 254 - Love And Hate

Olive caught up to Jiran right away. He brought a hand to his chest, bowing respectfully to the rankers who had patiently waited for him to leave the tent on his own. Lenton was at the front, glassy eyes pointed into the distance while an easy smile was directed at Jiran. He wore a new set of robes from the last time they spoke, and other than missing an arm, looked no worse for wear to Mana Omnis.

“Greetings, Master Filibree. I see you were successful in forcing the burgheist away. Any idea when it will be back?”

Every head present swiveled in Lenton’s direction and his smile turned nervous, “Forced away you say? Whatever gave you such a silly thought?”

Because I didn’t get a notification in my status. Why are you playing it off as though you killed it? Whatever, I’m sure he has a reason.

The woman who fought him for Andross’s dagger spoke with a scathing tone. Jiran didn’t mind, happy to see she managed to survive, “Master Filibree, would you care to explain what your dear apprentice, whom you so boastfully claimed has never spoken a lie, is talking about?”

Lenton’s broken laugh filled the air, his arm lifting to run through his beard, “Being mistaken is not the same as lying. Come now, such trivial matters are not what brought us here. Jiran of Feylon, it is our great honor to announce your worthiness to receive the Imperial Medal of the Savior for your valorous deeds in the line of duty. Without your direct intervention, Sanctum Santorum, the royal family of Le’Cruex, and the Finlest Empire would have ceased to exist.”

Jiran’s hair was blown back by a wave of thunderous force as the rankers and nearby soldiers crashed fists into chests. They bowed in unison and uncomfortable heat creeped up Jiran’s neck. He wasn’t sure where to look or what to say.

Olive came to his rescue, stepping up and grasping one of his hands, “On behalf of our most stunned savior, the prince consort graciously accepts this award. May we thrive.”

“May we thrive!” Another round of salutes shook the nearby tents.

Lenton’s easy grin was back as he gave Jiran a one-armed hug, “Congratulations, disciple. Why the melancholy? You must learn to hold yourself with pride, arrogance even, if you’re to continue earning that moniker.”

Jiran hesitated, feeling the weight of the powerful gazes on him, “I wasn’t alone. What of the dead who sacrificed everything? Without them, none of us would be here. Should we not be honoring them instead?”

Lenton sighed, nodding gravely, “You are correct. But you are also mistaken. Youth offers a narrow appreciation for the vicissitudes of life and death. It is true our losses were great, but the sorrow that churns within our hearts is also the kindling that harkens tomorrow's glorious flames. Cultivate your pain, use it to drive yourself forward lest you waste what they offered.”

The ranker Jiran rescued from the dagger closed the distance, resting a hand on his shoulder, “Filibree speaks true. The empire's future is brighter than ever, and it is a future that belongs to your generation. So long as you don’t squander the hope we’ve placed in you, there won’t be one of us old bastards unwilling to do what must be done to protect it.”

Lenton cleared his throat and Jiran could feel his aura snapping at the man for interrupting, “We’re meeting in an hour to determine a few important facets of the empire's future. I hope you choose to attend, though none would blame you for declining.” Lenton’s aura whipped against the other ranker’s once more before mellowing, “As for your medal, it will be presented at a later date in Cruex. The citizens deserve to look upon their savior and see him tremble with… excitement.” Lenton winked, chuckling as he floated away.

We’ll see who's trembling.

Narrowing his eyes, Jiran called out to the old man, “Master, you must be struggling with your injury. I have plenty of mana, should I give you a hand?”

Olive gasped, then whispered sternly, “Jiran, such jests to the great Master Filibree are in poor taste!” 

Lenton stiffened, not turning around as he responded through clenched teeth, “Don't mind our squabbles, your highness. Thank you for your concern, disciple. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. Such a minor injury is hardly worthy of the savior’s effort.”

Jiran opened his mouth for another retort but Olive squeezed his hand, speaking before him, “We will see you at the meeting, Master Filibree. Do take care of yourself. Your disciple worries greatly for your health.”

Lenton and Jiran snorted in unison, both restraining their laughter. The other rankers exchanged knowing glances, leaving one by one with appreciative nods that Jiran returned. His aura spread out to its maximum, scanning for Mayalyn, Niya, and Cameron. He found them a short distance away, unsurprisingly inside a large tent full of injured.

He also caught sight of the massive ceremonial funeral pyre nearby. As they flew hand in hand, he couldn’t help but stare at it, remembering the faces of each ranker he had watched die. Olive didn’t interrupt his thoughts, allowing him a moment to process as she had already done during the ceremony of parting.

A terrifying thought caused Jiran to stop, “Has there been any news about Palo and Loro, or any of the emperors?”

Olive sighed, a hand gently resting on her chest, “You scared me for a second. There is no reason to be concerned over the emperors. If there is one unequivocal truth I learned growing up in father’s palace, it's that the emperors are utterly outside of our ability to question or control. If Palo and Loro return to their city in ruins, then decide to go on a rampage, there is little anyone can do to stop them. Their actions are not even worth considering, much like any of a number of natural disasters that could wipe out all life in a blink.”

“I don’t like it, but I suppose I can see your point.”

Mayalyn met them outside the tent, a light frown on her beautiful face. Jiran’s mood began to lift just from seeing her. Sensing his rapidly shifting emotions through his aura, her expression brightened, “Niya refused to come to you.”

Jiran waved off her concern, “That’s fine. I should have known she would be busy doing what she does second best.”

“Second best?” Olive questioned, “For her tier, there isn’t a more adept healer in the empire. And no, you don’t count.” She snarked before he could respond.

Jiran ignored her verbal jab, “If you saw her punch that cathedral into dust you wouldn't need to ask what she’s really best at. For a moment, we all thought she killed you.”

“Honestly?” Olive’s eyes were wide as they swiveled to Mayalyn for confirmation. 

Blue hair bobbed in response as Jiran entered the tent. His aura had already categorized the injuries of everyone inside. Mana Transcendence flowed into the worst, removing them from death’s door at minimal cost. The ones suffering from the burgheist’s corruption he had to handle one at a time as he still couldn’t manipulate Mana Venom from a distance.

With a light tap of his finger, their sicknesses began to recede. He looked back at Olive who was whispering to Mayalyn, “You said there were more, is this all of them?”

“No, there are more in the city. We’ll go ahead and make sure they’re gathered for you.”

Jiran eyed them suspiciously, “Okay… I’ll see you two there.”

Mayalyn sauntered over to him, poking his chest, “Do not be like that, my Aajiran. Our friendship is deeper than you know. At this point, I have spent more time with her than I have with you. Perhaps you will think on that the next time you desire to disappear on one of your little adventures.”

Jiran didn’t have a good response to that eye-opening truth and wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. He did however take a moment to add them both to his party and hit them with Gaze of Pediamus. Sensing his relief, Mayalyn nodded and patted his cheek, flashing one of her signature, brilliant smiles. Rejoining Olive, they left the tent and the princess sent him a shy wave before they took to the air hand in hand.

Thick as thieves. Mayalyn warned me that I need to be the dominant force between the three of us if I want this to work. Is she testing me? Doesn’t matter if she is. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them both so happy and satisfied the only dreams they’ll have of living without me will be nightmares.

Jiran let one of his minds churn over ways to do just that as he carefully moved around the sick to Niya’s side. Cameron was happily snoozing on the floor next to her while she diligently worked to regrow a soldier's lost leg. Jiran opened Armament, refilling Niya’s mana with the stored energy. He was only partially disappointed to find how little remained inside. Obviously, his reserves vanishing had something to do with Mana Transcendence. He could only be glad the upgrade had done something noticeable since he had yet to find another difference.

Noticing him for the first time, Niya turned away from her patient. “You’re alive. How quaint,” she drolled.

“Very funny. Thanks for trying to save me.”

She frowned, her dark tone making it obvious why Cameron was pretending to be asleep, “Don’t dissimulate with me. If you were able to tell what I was doing in that state, then you know I only made your condition worse.”

Jiran pulled the grumpy girl into a hug. She tried to resist but he didn’t let her. She gave up her struggles after a few seconds, sagging into his embrace. “How did you do it? No matter what I’ve tried, they keep getting worse. I don’t know what to do. I-I’ve never felt so helpless before.”

He held her at arm's length, his hands on her shoulders, “It’s a skill that turns the mana against the body. It can even corrupt the soul. Unless your mana can overpower a tier ten beast’s, there isn't anything you can do for them.”

“Then how did you—”

“One of my new skills is a good counter for it, that’s all. I’ve already healed the ones here. If there are more in the camp, make sure they come forward before we leave.”

She blinked at him for several seconds before giving up, “I hate you.”

Jiran’s grin split his face, “Love you too, Cousin. And you only think you hate me. Once I show you where your tap is, we’ll see how you feel about your dear, sweet little cousin.” Jiran felt one of Cameron’s fingers twitch and looked down at his friend, “You wait your turn. I’ll find yours next, Cammy.”

“You knew? Of course you knew,” The royal sat up with a sheepish grin for Niya. “Is what you said true? What am I saying, it must be because you’re a disgusting monster. No offense.”

“Disgusting monster? Not bad. I’ll take it over your other nicknames anyday,” Jiran extended his hand and pulled Cameron to his feet. He motioned for Niya to hold out her arm and she complied, watching him with a narrowed eye.

I’ll use one application of Mana Venom to infect her body with something harmless, then another to fight it off. That way, I should be able to recreate the same conditions I used to find Ardon’s tap.

As he was reaching out to touch her wrist, Niya suddenly pulled back, “Whatever you’re planning is safe… right? Not your idea of safe, normal people safe!” Jiran opened his mouth, then paused, his teeth clicking together.

What if I lose control of the first application of venom and the next one can’t overcome it because it's grown stronger after consuming her mana? She’s not lower tier than me so there shouldn’t be any unforeseen consequences like the skill description mentioned. Probably.

“You know what Niya, you’re right. Cameron, we’ll do you first.”

He tried to back up but Jiran’s aura solidified behind him, “Woah, woah, woah. Let’s not be hasty now, Morty dear. W-why don’t you explain what you’re planning to do. Maybe I can help!”

Jiran waved off his concern with a flick of his wrist, “Unnecessary. If this skill can overcome the burgheist’s corruption, there isn’t anything you can do to affect it. Don’t worry, I’ll start with your arm. If anything goes wrong, we’ll just chop it off.”

As Jiran approached, Cameron’s pupils dilated and he waved his hands frantically, “What?! Jiran, you can’t casually joke about cutting off someone’s arm!”

“Who said I was joking?” Jiran’s smile grew until it nearly reached his ears, “Don’t worry, Cammy, your next arm will be better.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Do it in your own body first!”

Jiran shrugged helplessly, “Sorry, I promised Mayalyn I would stop taking unnecessary risks.” 

“No!” Cameron’s pleas fell on deaf ears as Jiran pulled the boy’s arm to the side and tapped his wrist. Mana Venom invaded his body and a second application quickly overwhelmed the first, proving his method was safe. Obviously, Jiran had no intention of telling Cameron as the venom quickly infected his whole body with a mild mana-sickness.

His complexion grew pale and looked like he might puke any second. Since he needed Cameron still to see when the venom found his tap, Jiran held him so tightly in his aura that he couldn’t even twitch. He looked deep into his friend’s panicked eyes and whispered softly, “Aren't you excited for your aura to be this strong?” Cameron reluctantly nodded and Jiran gave him a thumbs up, “That’s the spirit! Now, try really hard not to die, kay?” 

Cameron focused all of his strength into his other hand, barely managing to give Jiran a derogatory, two-finger salute.