Chapter 434: Goodbye Hyshana

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The rewards were tempting, but Priam had better things to do than comb an entire island. Then an idea sparked. Why should I handle it myself? What would take me years, Esmée could find in five minutes… and the elves in barely more.

As the appeal of delegation bloomed within him, Priam listened to his lingering suspicion. “I appreciate the context, but I fail to understand why you’re giving me such a precious opportunity. Especially after yesterday.”

Neither Priam nor Braato had shown up to the tournament’s final day, standing the elves up. Worse, he had forced Hekthorn to play taxi for refugees—an unflattering task for a proud Tier 5.

“To nullify all karma between Oasis and the Empire.”

Priam felt his stomach tighten. “What do you mean?”

“Someone used our network to sell Sumstreh’s location,” Hekthorn revealed, clear schadenfreude in his voice. “My little finger tells me that despite the Necro event, you’ll soon have plenty of visitors.”

Priam clenched his fists. “Eve?”

The fae was the only one who knew.

“Believe it or not, our officials somehow forgot who conducted the sale. They will be punished, of course, but if I were you, I’d worry about your other rivals.” All malicious joy faded from the Tier 5’s voice, replaced by something like… apprehension? “An undead took advantage of your fight against Leo to steal one of your Tal Quercus fruits.”

Priam knew only one undead capable of injuring Log-a-rhythm without the elves being able to intervene. A pseudo-Champion who, according to Dishnu, was attempting to raise a Tier 5 necro tree. Seth… And now he might’ve gotten the missing piece of his puzzle thanks to me. Fuck.

The reality slap reminded Priam that his rivals were not waiting for him.

“Can’t you help? I know your Prince aims to forge his Myth by rising against the Necromoon. He’d probably appreciate you destroying a potential necro threat.”

“The contract with the System states that no action from the Empire may majorly, directly, or specifically impact any Champion.”

“He’s not a Champion anymore.”

“He doesn’t tick all the boxes,” Hekthorn conceded. “But I won’t take the risk.”

There was nothing more to say. With a flick of his hand, the Demiurge produced a parchment inked with shimmering green. Elf blood.

“Here is the Empire’s official recognition of Oasis. It should help you resist the Necromoon a little better.”

“Thanks,” Priam said as he took it. “But I thought there was another prize for the tournament winner?”

Oasis easily placed at the top of the podium. Jasmine had reached the Tier 0 finals, Kazuki and Priam had won theirs, and Arnold…

“About that.” The Demimurge turned away and began walking toward his manor. “You’ll be happy to know the Tyrant showed up yesterday. Alone. Victory by default. I almost thought it was you outsmarting Braato before realizing he was there of his own accord. My citizens were not thrilled about having no finals to watch, and even less about hosting barbarians… Anyway, since you were absent, it seemed logical to give Oasis’s prize to its only representative. I took the liberty of choosing an ingot of an alloy with an ideal thermic resistance. It’s hard to read the Tyrant’s emotions, but he seemed pleased.”

*

“What a son of a bitch,” Jasmine spat. Lying on the wooden platform, she let her legs dangle over the void above Log-a-rhythm.

“I would’ve thought an aloof Tier 5 would be more inclined to forgiveness,” Esmée lamented. She had traded her torn dress for a perfectly fitted white outfit. “I guess even they can hold a grudge.”

“With age, some learn the value of forgiveness. Others grow bitter,” Louis offered.

Above the group, Priam remained silent. Perched on Log-a-rhythm’s highest branch, he watched the ground scroll past under the treant.

A shadow tapped his cheek.

“We going to visit Arnold to claim part of the ingot? Maybe I can steal it?”

Priam shook his head. “Hekthorn screwed us on this one. Better to accept it than create friction with Arnold. We don’t need that right now.”

Even ignoring their enemies’ movements, Oasis wasn’t in great shape. In Log-a-rhythm’s subspace, several coffins were lined up beside the wounded.

Priam jumped down onto the platform hosting the meeting and stood next to Kazuki. The silent hoplite was sitting on the ground, staring at the knee he no longer had.

“Alright, no use crying over spilled milk.” Priam summoned a smile he didn’t really feel. “Louis, go find Osiris and make sure he’s not wasting time flirting with Rose. Upgrading Homo Elysium needs to be a priority.”

“Permission to buy his goodwill with Blueberry’s snacks?”

“Permission granted.”

The old martial artist mimed a military salute before hopping down branch after branch.

“Jasmine, tail Sna until I have time to question her. I doubt she’ll cause trouble, but you never know.”

The assassin copied Louis before vanishing as well.

“Esmée, I’ll need help from an excellent intelligence specialist to locate the Throne’s legacy. Feeling up to it?”

The princess attempted an awkward salute, nearly dropped her diadem, and blushed. “I’ll handle it.”

Satisfied, Priam focused on the terrain. To a city dweller, all valleys probably looked alike, but he recognized familiar landscapes. They were almost there.

A quarter hour later, Log-a-rhythm crossed a pass and Priam saw his home. In the heart of a dead forest, a shimmering green jewel glowed. The Tal Quercus followed a river to a rempart and stepped over it. In the clearing behind it lay a pit into which he rooted himself. His crimson leaves began to tremble, sounding like a hundred thousand natural chimes. Priam smiled at the song. A plant needed to be in the ground to be happy.

From treant, Log-a-rhythm returned to being a tree. His roots connected to the magical infrastructure, restoring his link to the floral network. Thousands of plants regained their colors, sharing Potential and energy once more.

“One for all, all for one,” whispered the voice of nature.

With those words, Priam felt a stream of aether descend into his tree, flow through branch, trunk, and root before vanishing into the forest. Dishnu was gone.

He wasn’t the only one. After nearly a week of tournament, most people needed rest. Blueberry set the example by starting a nap at Log’s feet.

“Lucky bastard…”

The Lord had work to do before succumbing to sleep’s siren call. First, he traveled to Valaryth to reassure the artisans. Then, he hugged his father. After a brief talk, he brought them back to Elysium. It was time to send the hoplites home. Leaving the spearworld was only possible within twenty-four hours. Past that, anyone became a local subject to simple yet implacable laws.

Since the hoplite government needed its special forces, Priam used his own Hearthstone to open a passage to the Moon. That would save them from conscription. One month later, the hoplite army would use Hyshana’s stone to return to Proxima. The layover was long, but it was their only way back.

Once the portal closed, Priam approached Kazuki. Using a spear as a crutch, the hoplite stared into the void.

“Kazu.”

“...”

Seeing his friend’s grief, Priam felt powerless.

“Can I do anything?”

A silence, then a nod.

“Help me carry the wood for the pyres.”

In the background, Priam saw the rest of Hyshana’s first team gather around two metal coffins.

“Of course.”

*

The hoplites didn’t always burn their dead, but the Necromoon’s presence made it mandatory.

Kazuki insisted on cutting the wood himself. The warrior hobbled out of Oasis to find dead trees, which he cleaved in silence. Only the crash of falling trunks and distant undead roars broke the air.

Throughout the cutting, Priam watched his friend without saying a word. He hoped his presence said enough.

When Kazuki finished, he gave a small nod. With only one and a half legs, carrying the wood would have been difficult, so Priam handled it with [Kinetic Sovereignty].

At the camp, everyone had gathered before the hoplite barracks. Hyshana’s team took over, building two funeral pyres with grim familiarity. The first was for Elaine, a glass canon sniper with a quick trigger and terrifying accuracy. It hadn’t been enough against Leo, and her body now rested in two pieces.

The second was for Hyshana. Thanks to Osiris, she seemed asleep.

Kazuki began to sing as he lit the pyres.

“As the sun sets on the battlefield’s embrace,
A warrior’s journey finds a resting place.
In the hallowed grounds where heroes repose,
Her spirit ascends on the path she chose.”

His baritone voice made the assembly’s lungs vibrate. An exceptional soloist, Kazuki poured into the dirge all the emotion his upbringing stopped him from expressing otherwise.

After the first verse, his subordinates joined in. As the song became a threnody, Priam felt his hearts tighten with sorrow. A little farther away, Jasmine and Rose sniffled. Osiris looked at the ground, ashamed he couldn’t save his patient.

The hoplites sang for an hour before dispersing. Elaine’s body was long gone, but Hyshana’s bones resisted incineration until Priam released a fraction of Pyro.

Kazuki gave him a grateful nod before kneeling in front of his wife’s ashes.

Priam stepped away, pretending not to notice the giant crying.

*

Kazuki Arashi watched the river’s ripples. A part of him hated that the world hadn’t stopped with his wife’s death. She had left yesterday, yet it felt like a year had passed.

A shout made him turn. Less than fifty paces away, Gallad had just slammed Sakura into the dirt. What remained of Hyshana’s team was training hard, ashamed they hadn’t protected their general. Losing themselves in the pain of combat. If only I could do the same…

A glance at his leg made him grimace. Nothing was left of his left knee or anything that should have been beneath it. And yet the phantom pain was very real, reminding him of what had been.

Before his recovery allowed it, Kazuki had tried to train again, but reality had caught up with him. No matter his skill with the spear, a maimed person had no future in close-quarters combat. Movement and positioning were the legs of any martial art… and those were exactly what Kazuki lacked.

Fleshcrafter Osiris had been willing to restore his body, but the hoplite hadn’t needed Micro to sense that something was wrong—a suspicion confirmed on the very first jump. His ankle had cracked on takeoff, then shattered on landing. Refusing to give up, Kazuki had fused with Knightmare to create a metallic leg for himself. A triumph… for the three minutes his Talent lasted.

It had taken that for him to accept that Leo had turned him into a cripple. Since then, the Champion barely moved. Getting around on crutches was only marginally more bearable than the looks he received. He loathed the pity in everyone’s eyes.

But can I blame them when I’m acting like this?

A hoplite of action, Kazuki reviewed his options while contemplating the river. The first was suicide. Honorable in some circumstances; not here. He wasn’t a traitor, and he could still help his people and what was left of his family. Plus, his daughter was somewhere in this universe.

The second option was to become a tactician or a politician. Despite few hoplites picking those paths as careers, they were necessary. Moreover, experience had taught Kazuki that the less one desired those jobs, the better off society tended to fare.

The Champion was ready to make that sacrifice for his people… but only as a last resort.

The third option… Under Kazuki’s gaze, a fish was fighting its way upstream. Did it know it would almost certainly never reach the source? No, but it had hope.

Hope wasn’t a feeling that defined Kazuki. The warrior preferred the certainty of duty and refused to indulge in the illusion of a perfect recovery. Léo had broken too much for things to mend well.

Yet when Kazuki had vanished after the Tutorial, Hyshana had hoped. Or rather, she had believed in him so strongly that she had come to Elysium to find him. There’s a difference between blind hope and trust. That’s what you’d tell me if you were here, my love.

The destination lay out of sight, the path might well be a dead end, but Kazuki liked the direction and took it. Clenching his fist, he felt an item crack between his fingers. A die.

Host scan.

Race: Titan Hoplite (Tier 1)
Presence of multiple skills enhancing the effects of tempering.
Concept, Bloodline, and Affinities detected…

Three optimal foundation tempering methods compiled!

*

Goodbye Hyshana