Langa followed a reluctant Obiefune across the snow on his way to meet the second submortal tribe. He was curious and mildly annoyed about Obiefune’s initial refusal to tell him about them, but apparently they were called barbarians. Behind the two of them, Pamanta cursed as he pushed the cart with the submortal they had just saved. Incidentally, Langa hadn’t returned the remaining light water from the infected submortal’s bucket. He kept it for himself.
As he approached their settlement, large mismatched white rocks obscured his view, but Langa could hear the grunts and jovial laughter from beyond them. A shirtless submortal stood in front of the rocks, watching them closely. He cast a glare at Obiefune.
“What do you want?” the guard grunted slowly. He spoke more coherently, as most of the adult submortals did.
“You mean besides justice for the boy I cremated recently?” Obiefune said through gritted teeth. “A new Chosen arrived two days ago. He wants to speak to Lisinda.”
“A Chosen?” The barbarian’s eyes narrowed before he focused them on Langa in surprise. “Come along then,” he said, leading them around the rocks towards his comrades.
The barbarians were clad in badly tattered leather armour that had seen many battles. They were also laughing while sparring with each other, but that was not what made Langa’s mouth go agape. There was a massive, bear-like creature as big as a house. It had golden, visible veins flowing with water from the light oasis. Not only that, but on its back, it carried many buckets of light water. No wonder Langa and Pamanta had been unsuccessful in finding forfend rivers. These barbarians hoarded everything.
The bear seemed to serve as the barbarians’ shelter, because under its massive body were bedrolls.
Langa watched the sparring session, noting that the barbarians moved well, muscles bulging under their leather armour as they sparred and trained, their laughter downed by the sounds of clashing fists. Langa and Obiefune’s entrance drew some curious glances, but most remained focused on their training and a couple of them came to relieve Pamanta of the injured barbarian.
“Obi!” a surprised voice called out. A woman emerged from the group and walked towards them. She stopped when she saw Langa, studying him. He didn’t need the Eye of Nahuke to see that she had tensed up, ready for a fight. Like the others here, her body was all muscle. She wore a tattered fur-lined cloak that flowed behind her, and her hair was braided tightly, with icy beads woven throughout it.
“He’s a Chosen,” Obiefune answered her unspoken question.
“Hello,” Langa greeted, nodding his head in respect, since she seemed to be the leader. “My name is Langa Zulu.”
“I have always wanted to meet a Chosen,” she said, holding out her hand. “I gathered you were coming when the portal expanded. Mother always said it happened every thirteen years. She also said the gods are not discerning with who they send, so I don’t know whether or not to trust you.”
“I’m just here to help,” Langa said. He was sick of the distrust.
“You saved Kailu,” she said as the others tended to the barbarian Langa had saved. “I don’t care about the past Chosen; I judge people by their actions in the now. Thank you for helping him.”
Langa glanced at Obiefune with a pointed eye. “You’re welcome. That is a fresh perspective from a reasonable person,” he said.
“I am sure you have heard of our plight and how the last Chosen turned this world into a playground, and now he sits on a corrupted throne, trapping us in this prison,” she said. “My men and I are training. Is there anything I can help you with, Chosen?”
The reaver lord was a former Player? “First, I just want to ask. Why are you guys camping so close to the reaver camp, without forfends?” Langa asked.
“There are no forfends rivers this close to the reaver camp.” Lisinda crossed her arms. “Do you also think we need to hide behind the forfends like Obi? We are not afraid to fight, Langa Zulu. We’ve travelled through the snow, losing our kin to those monsters, and we will not stop until we reach the light oasis.”
“Believe me, I understand your desire for vengeance, but if you don’t share resources and work together with the other tribe, the reavers will overrun both your tribes,” Langa said.
Lisinda looked at Obiefune and shook her head. “You didn’t tell him, did you? Your people are content to cower behind the forfends while we sacrifice everything to fight. You’re asking us to share what little water we have left with those who prefer peace over freedom.”
Before Langa could respond, Obiefune spoke. “I already told you the quartree is dying, and soon there will be nothing left for the Namid people. If you could just give us enough for a few days, I will-”
“Why should I? Without the water, the quadbear will stop moving, and we won’t reach our destination in time,” Lisinda said. She turned to Langa with anger in her eyes. “He’s always like this. He and I are the only people in this world gifted by the gods with the magic power to fight back, withstand the reavers’ attacks, and save what remains of our world. But he won’t fight!”
“Of course, I won’t fight,” Obiefune snapped back. “If I died, who would look after the quartree? Who will ensure the levels of the light water remain stable and are always available? Who will look after the children? You and your barbarians?”
“This is the problem, Obi. I ask you to fight, and you immediately envision defeat,” she said, shaking her head. “We can win.”
“No, we can’t! Not even with the voidling! With a Chosen, maybe, but you know they are too unpredictable to bet our entire world on!” Obiefune shouted. He looked around and pointed at the rest of the barbarians, watching him with glares in their eyes. “There used to be enough of you to fill that bear to the brim. You’ve been fighting for years, and you have nothing to show for it except more dead! Now barely 1% of you remain.”
Lisinda’s face hardened. “They died rather than cower. What do you propose? That we share our light waters and sit around a fire singing songs while the reavers tear our world apart? Absolutely not.”
Obiefune’s frustration raged again. “You don’t understand! Every time you charge in recklessly, you lose more of your warriors! I have lost children who snuck out at night in search of you to join the fight. A useless fight!”
Lisinda’s eyes flared. “The light in those children’s hearts fuels our resolve. They are braver than you. You want us to go gently towards death. Do you propose that we wait for them to come to us? That we let them take our world while we sit behind your forfends? That we die in peace and harmony? Death is death, Obi!” she said. “We made it here through the shedding of blood. Both our own and the reavers’. That is how we’ve made it this far. We clawed our way up from the abyss with our bare hands. I will fight until the day I die.”
Langa admired her spirit, but he didn’t think charging forward into a losing battle would help her. Her ten or so barbarians would be slaughtered by the number of reavers he saw inside the camp. If they even made it through the barrier. Besides…
“You sent children to war?” Langa asked, unable to hide his anger.
“I send whoever volunteers to war,” Lisinda said, her face tight.
The submortals had animalistic features, claws, sharp fangs but when he’d seen the way the small children looked up at him in the quartree, he’d tried to detach himself, so he wouldn’t care. But in the end, he couldn’t stomach the thought of putting a child before a reaver.
“I don’t care if this is hell itself,” Langa snapped. “No matter how bad things are, you do not, under any circumstances, send children to fucking war!”
Obiefune turned to Langa, looking at him as if his rant caused him to see him in a different light.
“Maybe not in your world.” Lisinda smiled. “I love my people, and I do not intend to live out my days in peace. I’ll fight for my right to exist. Fight until my dying breath, Chosen. I welcome your help. If you choose not to stand with us, if you choose to follow the pacifists, then that is your choice. I respect everyone’s choice. I was given the power to use magic for a reason, and I will fight.“
“Look, I want to help you!” Langa insisted. “But you can’t do it alone. If you allow me to assist you, we can devise a plan to take back the oasis. But we must be smart about this. No fucking children.”
“I am the strongest submortal in this world and we believe in the rule of might. Show us you have the strength to stand against the reavers, and then we’ll consider your proposal. Show us you can endure the pain and fight with the same ferocity that we do. If you can survive a day in our world, perhaps I’ll listen to your self-righteousness.”
“Your HP is under 100. I will literally kill you with one punch,” Langa said, exasperated.
If what it took for them to believe he could help was just a display of power, then what kind of deity was this trial telling him he was supposed to be? Would he have people follow him out of fear instead of faith?
“I could take you all, but I don’t want to insult you. How about this? You and five of your best warriors come at me at once. If even a single one of you strikes me, I’ll fold. If I win, however, you do as I say, no questions asked,” Langa proposed.
Lisinda raised her fists. “Gather around! We have a Chosen who believes he can challenge us!” she said.
The warriors’ laughter and shouts faded as they turned their attention to Langa, assessing him. He was over 10 levels ahead of them and couldn’t actually attack them without backlash. Five warriors stepped up to him, each clutching weapons like axes, clubs, and bone blades. They spread out, forming a semicircle around Langa.
The first warrior charged in, swinging a massive two-handed axe so slowly that Langa could sidestep both his attack and another barbarian who tried to sneak attack his side. Two more rushed him simultaneously, but just using Tonare’s shaft with minimal strength cut them off and allowed him time to turn around to parry a club. The force of the parry sent the club-wielding barbarian falling into the snow.
Lisinda leapt at Langa surprisingly fast, her fists glowing white with ice. Magic. He took a step back, and her quick series of jabs cut through the air, missing him entirely.
“Is that all?” Langa asked, spinning Tonare into a defensive stance.
The barbarians regrouped and charged again. Langa never struck back. He merely deflected every attack, tripped them up, and dodged.
They were so slow, it was pathetic. He merely moved one toe, and they missed.
“Fuck!” Langa cursed.
“What?” Pamanta, who was watching the ‘fight’, casually asked.
“I just realised this is how The Guardian Knight felt when I challenged her. Damn it,” Langa said.
Lisinda’s frustration grew as her every physical blow missed him. She summoned a small icicle shooting it towards Langa, but he didn’t flinch, using Tonare to cut it in half effortlessly.
“What Tier was she at?” Pamanta asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I think she just entered Tier 3,” Langa said, slightly tilting his head to the side as Lisinda’s punch struck the air.
“What!” The voident laughed. “You challenged a Tier 3 Divine Class Player at Tier 1? Are you an idiot?”
“No,” Langa muttered, sticking his foot out and tripping two submortals. They fell to the snow in pain. “The more I think about it, the more pissed off I get! I want a rematch.”
“Not bad, Chosen!” Lisinda grunted, huffing. She reared back, then came at him with a powerful uppercut.
Langa ignored her, fed up with this farce. His lightning mana leaked into Tonare, and he slammed it on the ground. The power from the force of his downward thrust made snow fly up and it scattered, creating a crater and a force of wind that sent the submortals flying.
The wind also displaced the quadbear. It was the tribe’s home, carrying a lot of supplies towards the light oasis, so he couldn’t let it fall. Langa Flash Stepped towards it and caught it before the light water fell to the ground.
The creature’s large tongue licked his face when he steadied it. He laughed as he patted the bear, then turned serious again. His opponents were all sprawled in the snow. Annoyed, he blinked against the cold.
“Get up,” Langa said to the fallen barbarians.
Lisinda looked up at him, struggling to stand and panting. “You are the strongest, so we’ll listen to you and fight alongside you to reclaim our home.”
Langa hadn’t shown off at all, but to these people, his magic was awe-inspiring. Even Obiefune was looking at him with surprise and a measure of respect.
Langa wasn’t good at making speeches, but he had to say something. “You’re all brave, I’ll give you that, but I just… this is something I had to learn the hard way. Just being brave when you don’t have the power, it’s… it’s useless. I don’t know everything. I’m new to this world and this whole thing, but I know that if you want to fight for you and yours, you need all the help you can get.”
He helped Lisinda up. “You can’t just throw caution to the wind and let children sacrifice themselves. This is reality and you’re these people’s leader. You need to care more about them and show restraint sometimes. It’s something that I struggle with too.”
“Restraint, huh?” she muttered. “If laying down my life would save everyone in this world, I would lay it down gladly. I’m not Obi. I do not hide behind pacifism. Sometimes you have to do what must be done for the good of the people,” she said. “This world is ending unless we get to the light oasis. Fine, I will show restraint, and work alongside you. I won’t send them needlessly to their death.”
Langa blinked in surprise, and even Obiefune gaped at her. “I have been trying to get you to slow down for years, and you agree, just like that?”
Lisinda shrugged. “I told you. I trust what I see. And I see he used only a fraction of his power against us,” she said. “I have faith that the gods sent him here to use that power to liberate us, so I will work alongside him.”
Obiefune turned and walked away as if he was unwilling to dignify her statement with an answer. Langa decided he liked Lisinda much more than Obiefune, but perhaps that was because she was more open to working with him.
*
Once Langa returned to the quartree, he asked Obiefune to call a meeting. Gran Arthia sat the rest of the submortals down orderly and had a makeshift stage made for him. The submortals looked up at him, waiting to hear what he had to say.
Langa could use magic to do things these people had never seen before. If he was a person who cared about power and being worshipped, this would be an amazing way to get their faith, but he found it annoying. He understood fundamentally that the whole point of climbing the Tower was to one day shed the mortal coil and become a deity, yet he couldn’t envision himself enjoying that kind of life, having so many people depending on him, praying to him every day, and asking him for help.
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He didn’t know how Adtonifulmin managed it, although, to be fair, he didn’t have that many bonded mortals.
“I need you all to prepare yourselves. We are moving the quartree. I’m taking you to the World Core,” Langa said.
“We’re not going,” Obiefune said.
“Yes, you are. I have limited time to complete my mission. We are going there,” Langa said.
“This is the largest forfend river that can protect this quartree. If you move us from here, we’ll all be killed,” he argued.
“I’ve seen the reaver camp. I’m going to be working with Lisinda and the barbarians to destroy the camp and close the portal. If we are to fight back, then we need the water in your forfend river.”
Everyone had been listening with hopeful attention, but the moment he said that, whispers began to spread. Fear crossed the pale faces of the submotals as they communicated in grunts and head shakes.
“I know I’m asking you to give up your home and the forfends that are protecting you. I would never force you to do that. I’ll still fight for you, even if you choose to stay here in the quartree. It will be tough to destroy the reaver camp without the water from here, though.”
The submortals shifted nervously, their eyes looking between Langa and Obiefune. Elder Arthia bowed her head.
“I’m strong. You saw me fight,” Langa said. “I’ll protect you from the reavers.”
“I speak for the entire tribe, and I say no,” Obiefune said.
Langa placed a hand on Tonare to calm himself and not get frustrated. He’d promised himself that he would be diplomatic and give the people a choice on whether they had faith in him or not.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be safe, but once you give into the fear of corruption, there’s nothing left,” he said. “I know it was difficult for you guys to even get here with the quartree. I know it wasn’t easy for you to find such a big source of the light water that allowed you to stay safe for so long, but now I’m asking you to abandon it without giving you any promises. I know you’re afraid I’ll replicate whatever pain the last Chosen did to you, but I assure you, I just want to help you reach the light oasis, so I can remove corruption from your world’s Core Orb.”
“Pain is an understatement, Langa,” Gran Arthia said. “When The Chosen found out that he couldn’t take the light waters with him, he raged. He decided he was going to take every other precious thing this world had to offer. He was a weaponsmith, so he used the light waters, our only protection against corruption, to make more weapons for himself, and we couldn’t fight against him.”
Before Langa could respond to her, Obiefune spoke.
“Lasira got greedy and decided he wanted the pure waters of the light oasis. Instead of closing the portal once he defeated the reaver king, instead of leaving us be and letting corruption take us naturally, he sped up our destruction,” Obiefune said, rage in his eyes. “His actions caused a rift in the void veil protecting us, and the corruption that had been sealed out by the Void Eruption started to seep back in. More and more reavers came through the portal, and in the end, he was overrun.”
There was bitterness in Obiefune’s voice, as he said. “The reavers killed him, and he lost his intelligence and became corrupted. The shell of him is the current the king reaver guarding the light oasis. He wasn’t as strong as you, so forgive me if I don’t want to one day have to face destruction by a reaver with your strength. There is nothing we can do about it. It grows stronger with every passing year that goes without being defeated. So do not stand there and act as if you have our best interests at heart. You do not. Why should we trust you, Chosen?” he asked.
Langa paused, wanting to assure the Namadi leader that, of course, he could trust him since he had their best interests at heart. However, he was rushing this whole thing because of his vendetta back in the Tower. He had to think about this logically. Kindaro was a small part of his life, albeit an infuriating one, but once he killed him and freed Makoto’s soul, he would still have to complete the rest of the Infinite Challenge. If there was one thing he knew without a doubt, it was that a house only stood strong thanks to its foundation.
This was a test to see what kind of deity he would be, and if he messed up on the first step, then his whole path might be ruined. Besides, these were people’s lives, and he didn’t feel right playing with them like this.
“I have god, and his name is Lord Adtonifulmin. When I was weak, broken and lost in darkness, his was the only hand that reached out to me. It was easy for me to believe in him because he was there for me at my lowest point. I’m not Lord Adtonifulmin, so I can’t be that for you. Instead, I’ll leave your fate in your own hands,” Langa said.
He looked directly at Obiefune and continued. “You’ve lived under the oppression of the last Chosen and watched the barbarians’ dwindling numbers as they recklessly marched forward to their deaths,” he said. “I won’t sacrifice your children. I’ll give you a choice. I know you have no reason to believe in me, but I’m still asking you to put your faith in me. Watch and see me rebuild your world into something better than this.”
“You want our faith without promising anything?” Obiefune asked, his voice cracking. “What kind of deity does that?”
“I barely know you, so I won’t claim that I want to fight for you.” The room went deathly silent, and Langa let out a harmless portion of his Karma Pressure. “You can trust this; though. I hate corruption. It ruined my life, my father’s life, and my entire family’s lives. Any chance I get to stick it to that nameless bastard is a win. I will restore the core orb so I can be powerful enough to return here and reach the upper worlds and save them, too. Trust that,” he said, then he turned away. “You’ll find me at the barbarian camp for the next three days. After that, we are going to the light oasis.”
They had to want more than this. He knew what it was like to just exist, to just watch life pass you by and live for the next day, not knowing what happens the day after. They needed something to fight for, too.
He didn’t know what type of deity he wanted to be or even if he wanted to be one. What he knew was that if anyone chose to have faith in him, he would never break his promises to them.
*
“Let’s go scout out the reaver camp again, Pamanta,” Langa said once he left the settlement.
Langa walked thoughtfully across the snow, trying to come up with a solution. Maybe he didn’t need to be a miracle worker to complete the quest; maybe he could just blow up the reaver camp as he and Synn did to Sasani’s voi-den. Well, that was mostly Synn, but if he combined his Lucent Patch bombs with the light water so they could hurt the reavers and then blew up the camp, it might work.
He wished he’d brought some lightning-lucent crystals to make Electrospark Colloids, but that was the price of investing money in the guild, leaving him poor.
The open veil of the dimensional portal provided the reavers with perpetual night, and spiky red ice barricades formed a primitive perimeter around their camp, meaning they were prepared to defend their camp and prevent anyone from accessing the light oasis.
It made sense since anyone with access to the oasis would be able to kill them. Langa could feel the chill on his skin, even under all the layers of pelts, as he hid. He activated Nahuke’s Left Eye and watched the reaver camp.
Beside him, Pamanta remarked. “They turned an old wooden village into a damn fortress,” he said. “They bypass daylight thanks to the dimensional portal. Reavers pour in from the lower planes, and if you want to claim the core or the light oasis, then you need to defeat them and their leader.... and close the damn portal.”
Langa’s Left Eye of Nahuke scanned the area, noting the reavers stationed at various points along the cliff’s edge.
“What do you think?” Pamanta whispered, his voice low over the sound of the waterfall. His eyes looked nervously between Langa and the camp. “They are all Tier 1, and some of them are heavily corrupted, about 40-50%. I don’t see a way through.”
Langa could see the golden colour of the waterfall flowing parallel to the open dimensional portal from their vantage point as it fell into a lake of golden oasis water.
“What’s our approach?” Langa asked. The last thing they needed was to alert the reavers to their presence.
“You’re asking me?” Pamanta said in surprise. “You promised those people a tower of heaven, and you’re telling me you had no plan?”
“I’m not a planner,” Langa said. “I prepare as much as I can, then I charge in. They think I’m some larger-than-life Chosen, so they expect a miracle from me. You, however, know I’m just another Player at the whims of The Quartenity. So, any ideas? I mean, I know we need to find their vulnerabilities, but...”
“I don’t know of ‘just another Player’ as powerful as you who just cleared the 1st Floor, but I guess it’s true what Master says, ‘Elixirs are drawn to those without cauldrons,’” he sighed. “They have the numbers, but they aren’t invulnerable. We can use the terrain to our advantage, plus after seeing you fight, I think you can easily kick that boss’ ass.”
Langa nodded, watching as the reavers moved about in the darkness. Using Eye of Nahuke, he studied the reaver patrols, timing their movements and looking for moments when the guards were distracted or turned away. The two of them moved through the snow stealthily, trying to see the barricade separating them from the light oasis.
The barricade was a haphazard collection of ice, but it was the only thing keeping the reavers from accessing the waterfall directly. They needed to take it down first.
“Look over there,” Langa said, pointing towards a group of reavers gathered near the portal. “They’re too focused on the waterfall and the path leading to the light oasis. If we can get in there, destroy the barricades, and create a distraction, it might give Lisinda and the barbarians a chance to slip through unnoticed and start bombing the void portal to prevent any more reavers from coming out.”
“When you say we, you mean you, me, and who?” Pamanta asked, his voice apprehensive.
Langa grinned. “Just you and me, buddy.”
“If I die-”
“You’re not going to die. Your powers may be limited, but a bunch of Tier 1 corrupted reavers are nothing to me,” Langa assured him. “Do you see that?”
Langa pointed towards the far side of the camp, where a dilapidated building stood partially buried in snow, its roof caving in but still offering some cover. A large tentacled reaver that moved with more grace than the rest emerged, followed by 10 more reavers. “Is that the one who claimed the oasis?”
“Yeah, that’s him. Even as a reaver, he has some intelligence left. Every time I tried to go for him, the horde got me,” Pamanta said. “I’ve tried sneaking in, having the barbarians distract them while I attacked, but it’s never been enough.”
“You know, I could probably kill that reaver boss from here with my Divine Skill,” Langa said. Lightning Lance did say the target just needed to be within his line of sight after all. He doubted he could control it that far out, though.
“Seriously? And you said you were a regular Player?” the voident said as he shook his head. “I feel sorry for the voidents in your Tower. After years of toiling for power, here comes a talented idiot taking away everything they have.”
“That’s what your people get for taking from others,” he said. “Let’s go back.”
“You’re not going to kill him now?” Pamanta asked.
Langa shook his head. “Of course not. He has haunted these people’s lives for years. I want them to witness the miracle of his takedown. It should give them hope for the future.”
*
Now that he had a goal, Langa entered the makeshift shelter that served as the armoury of the barbarian camp.
The weapons they used were simple arrows, wooden javelins leaned against the wall, and a set of leather gloves displayed on a nearby rack with short spikes protruding from the knuckles. It was a brutal design, ideal for enhancing the striking power of the barbarian fighters. He could imagine how effective they would be in close combat, but were useless against the reavers.
“How did you make these?” Langa asked Lisinda, his curiosity piqued as he picked up one javelin. “You have no metal, yet you’ve crafted such crude but effective weapons.”
Lisinda crossed her arms. “Most of the better weapons were remnants of what the last Chosen left behind when he got corrupted. We use what we have. After we defeat reavers, we place their body parts inside our light water so they aren’t absorbed back into the snow,” she explained. “The water purifies them of corruption, making the materials usable. Then, we carve the bones down into arrows and javelins. We use the black stones we find within the dead reavers as tips. I can send a stream of my magic into the tips so they strike better. Of course, the amount of light water needed for this is a lot.”
Langa nodded, impressed. “It’s clever, but I can help you make these weapons even better. With my skill in Enchanting, I can inscribe glyphs into your weapons, reinforcing them and enhancing their attack power. They might become less durable, though, since I’m still at Beginner Level.”
Lisinda gaped at him. “You can do that? Our weapons are powerful, but they could be much more effective with magic.”
“Absolutely. If you give me a little time and the materials, I can enhance your arsenal,” Langa replied, taking out his Portable Enchanting Kit. “I might also modify my Lucent Patch bombs using the water.”
Once she gave him his space, Langa inscribed glyphs of Minor Sharpness into the tips of arrows to give them better piercing power. Since he could only inscribe one glyph per weapon, he alternated between the Sharpness glyph and the one that allowed them to deal minor fire damage.
He was using his lucent fireblood auink, so the arrows would also deal minimal fire damage, even without the glyph.
“Now, for the explosives,” he said, glancing towards the light water. “I’ll need to combine the water with some additional materials.”
Langa gathered small clay pots, filling them with the light water. He still had plenty of Lucent Patches and crushed lucent powder from fire lucent stones. He wished he had more light, darkness, death, and life-lucent stones, as those would be more compatible with the light water.
“This will be awesome!” Excitement filled him, and his anticipation built as he finished the first Lucent Water bomb, sealing it carefully and holding it up. “I should test-”
He didn’t get to finish that sentence before the bomb blew up in his hand, sending ice down his arm, creating a ripple of pain, and sending the weapons around him flying in different directions.
“Okay,” he said, coughing as Pamanta came bursting in. His face was covered with soot. “I’m fine. Tell the submortals that was supposed to happen.”
“Sure,” Pamanta said with a grin. “I’ll tell them their saviour is fine and not about to blow himself up.”
Langa was seized by another fit of coughs as he flipped him off. Okay. It was time for experiment 2. He’d reduce the concentration of the light water before mixing it with his auink and try again.
No matter how hard Langa tried, the light water didn’t mix well with his auink. Perhaps it was because of the large disparity in mana disciplines. The light water contained life, death, light and darkness magic. He was mildly compatible with all of them except death, so that was an issue. In the end, he took a different approach. He dipped his Lucent Patches in the light water and wrote the glyph on the patch. Langa closed his eyes, feeling the cold air wrap around him, but he focused on the warmth of the magic flowing in the water.
He reached out, placing his palm against the glyph, and felt a wave of energy move through him.
Yes, he was getting somewhere now.
Three days. He would give these people three days of his precious time, and he would spend his free time making Pamanta tell him more about Void Gems and familiarising himself with his Void Star.
‘A calm, controlled mind,’ Langa thought about the motto of those who followed the Path of Lightning. He took a deep breath in and a deep breath out.
On the third day of practicing, when he attempted to use what he learnt from the voident, he decided he wasn’t keen on frying his nerves again, especially considering how painful it was and how much it could damage him in the long run. To mitigate this, he applied a healthy amount of the water of light around his arm and on his chest as well, because the Infinite Challenge was the only place where he could do this.
He felt bad since the water of light was scarce, but he needed to do this and he would get more once they reached the light oasis. He concentrated on absorbing the magic inside the water of light while allowing the lightning in his body to flow into the Void Star that sat next to his heart where his mana core should be.
He did this slowly, allowing the water of light to seep into his body as he moved the lightning inside himself. Once the lightning reached the Void Star, Langa’s hands shook because this was the moment of truth. He let the mana he had absorbed from the water of light surround the Void Star, and then he tried to harness the corruption.
He wanted to consume one charge inside the Void Star to create a pseudo-void territory. This time when the threads of Karma erupted from the dark ball of his Brand, trying to stoke the mana that was flowing through the Void Star, the light water cleared the corruption from the Brand. This allowed the karma from the Void Star to pour out of Langa unimpeded. The intense mana swallowed him, and he felt a very tiny veil appear around his heart.
“Oh my gods, I did it!” Langa thought, in surprise, but that veil was only around his heart. It didn’t form outside of him. He didn’t form an actual void territory.
[Error! You have not bound your soul to the Void Star.
Begin Binding Process? Yes/No
Warning! This action is irreversible and will reduce your Alignment to Voident Status.]
“No!” Langa said at once. The veil disappeared instantly.
That was what separated voidents from normal people who wielded corruption. Langa wasn’t willing to become a slave to the divine Karma sealed in the Void Star or to use the magic sealed inside it.
This was enough for today.
The next day, when he’d finally managed to create something that wasn’t unstable after staying up all night, Langa handed a bunch of Light-based Lucent Powder bombs to Lisinda.
“This should cause a significant distraction when we launch our attack on the reaver camp later,” he said. “Since the bombs were made with the light water, they should also cause some permanent damage to the reavers.”
“Thank you,” Lisinda said fiercely, carefully placing the bombs in her leather bag. “With these weapons and your magic, we might finally take back what belongs to us.”
“I know I enhanced your weapons, but I don’t want you submortals doing any close combat unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Langa said. “Use the bombs to attack from a distance and leave everything else to me and Pamanta.”
She looked ready to argue, but Langa wasn’t having it. “I know you want to take back your freedom with your own hands, but you already have too many dead,” he said. “Let us handle this, and just promise me that when we take back the core, you’re willing to invite Obiefune and his group to your new settlement so they can use the water from the light oasis.”
Lisinda frowned. “Of course I will. What’s the point of fighting for freedom if we refuse to give it to our young and elders?” she said. “We are all one people, even if we’ve had to give up much to reach this point.”
“Good,” Langa nodded approvingly. “In the same fashion. I don’t want to save this world and have you and your men die in the fight. I’ve been trapped by fear before, so I want to make it so you won’t have to live in fear anymore.”
“Do you truly mean that?” Both Langa and Lisinda turned to find Obiefune at the entrance, his face ashen. “Will you really not oppress us if you win? Will you really not die and leave us with broken hopes?”
“I won’t,” Langa said, standing up to face the submortal leader. “I know my words mean nothing to you. You are free to watch me fight and decide for yourself if you’re willing to let your people and the Quartree follow the path to the light oasis.”
Obiefune pursed his lips. “I have already decided,” he said, pointing outside.
Langa and Lisinda followed him out to find a large snow pot filled to the brim with light water. The quartree had also been moved away from the forfends, and it was dragging its frail body along the red snow, using the last of the light water that remained in its roots.
“We took all the water that was left in our forfend river,” Obiefune said. “Without this, if your plan fails, we’re dead. To be honest, we’d be dead anyway, so at least the water will give you more of a chance against the reaver lord.”
“Obi!” Lisinda said, tears in her eyes. She threw herself into Obiefune’s arms. “Thank you, Obi. Thank you.”
Obiefune held the woman in his arms and looked at Langa. “I have never had faith in anyone before, so please don’t let us down.”
Faith...huh?
If they believed in him, then he had to earn that faith. Alright, it was time for Langa to show them proof they weren’t wrong to bet on him.
