Tree of Aeons - Chapter 292. Tainted Fields II

292. Tenth

Tenth – The Human Kingdom Lands of Caval

A land of knights. A land of warriors. Edna’s stint on the ninth world was short, so she and Kafa landed in the tenth world to find one filled with knights, and demons. It was something like Satrya, and yet not.

It was too familiar, and yet that familiarity also evoked a sensation within the lizardfolk.

“I’m starting to feel a little sick of traveling.” Kafa mused as a joke. It was only partly one.

Edna agreed. “Traveling too much does weigh on one’s soul.”

“I think I understand why Hawa’s just eager to let go of worlds. At some point, I think I wouldn’t be able to care.”

Edna stared, and wondered how that escalated quickly. The lines between a stare and a glare were so thin. “You shouldn’t be like that. That will be our slow death.”

Kafa looked back. “You’re made of stronger stuff that I am, Lady Edna. I see these new worlds, and I realize at some point, why should I care? A part of me speaks to return to my familiar lands. Lands that are safe. As long as our homes are safe-”

“Death.” Edna answered. “We cannot be the only island in a sea flooded with demons. Death comes to us eventually. Together, with a coalition of the living, we can create a wall.”

Kafa sighed. That was true. “I know. I know. But this has been a lot more tiring than I expected. I thought the worlds would be interesting, but now we are in the tenth peripheral world and even if they are interesting, I wonder to myself whether I should care anymore.”

Edna tapped the lizard warrior on his armored scales. “Because we must. Because we are the only ones that can care for these worlds that are no longer cared for.”

“I know you are right.” Kafa said but he looked at the world and felt a little blank. “This is the burden of our existence, and we may have traveled a little too much.”

Edna nodded. “Let’s get a break. We can return home and rest. I suppose we do need it. I will continue on with the others.”

Kafa nodded. “I certainly do need some time back home.”

It was so tempting to relegate the world to just something of a copy paste of another world. Even when none of the worlds they’ve been to were actually proper mono-human societies.

This was a world with only humans, and they fought demons.

Naturally, in mono-race societies, anything or anyone that doesn’t resemble that mono-race is automatically assumed to be a monster. Or a demon. Both, if the demons had possession and corruption abilities, and that race had inherited trauma from past parasitic demons.

We still see this in the Southern Continent where some humans still experience micro-flinches at the sight of non-humans. Perhaps not outright hostile, but a reaction nonetheless.

“Well, to be fair this human world fits your powers like a glove.” Kafa laughed a few days later as they explored the world of Caval.

“On the other hand, I could think of about a hundred or two other Valthorns and allies that would benefit from this world.” Edna countered. There were also many others who could exploit a world of multiple city states.

“Maybe the next one is a sandworld.”

“I don’t like sand.”

“I know. Some lizardfolks claim it gets between our scales and makes everything nasty.” Kafa answered, and so Edna chuckled.

“I thought some lizardfolks are native to the sands.”

“Some.” Kafa said. “I’m not one of those. I’m the swamp kind, and sand irritates me.”

“Then we should visit a swampworld. I bet there’s one. Maybe not the peripheral worlds, but beyond that.”

The tenth peripheral world of Caval was one of not many gimmicks. It was just humans and demons. It’s population was fairly large, and in the past, the city states that received heroes from the old gods prospered. But somehow, the cities never quite formed up into large empires.

It’s social structure was also fairly similar to the humans of the eighth peripheral world, and even the old human empires of Treehome. The feudal aspects naturally reoccurred throughout the multiverse, and that was a fairly sad thing to think about.

I believe it’s a product of the power and combat based systems. Societies where the powerful can exert power much more easily over the weak would naturally be more feudal, simply because there is no check or balance on the authority of the strong.

“Well? Any views?” Edna asked.

Kafa just sighed. “If what we want is gaming the odds of getting talent, I suppose this isn’t a bad place. It has most of the basic resources and resources, and with Aeon’s influence, it should be possible to turn this world into a farm for soldiers over a few decades.”

“Overall, where would you place it?”

“Below the mageworld, and that overpopulated world. Or even the Three-Ringed world. Hell, at least Landas has a magic tree. This world of humans is a little ordinary to be worth a clone.”

“Ordinary could be good. Mountainworld is fairly ordinary as it goes, and it is now our core world.”

“Then why choose? We could just roll the dice.” Kafa said. “Each world has a ceiling for population size it can comfortably absorb, a ceiling to its mana output. I suppose given this world’s ordinary design, it should have a fairly balanced mix of resources, so that’s one thing going for it.”

Edna laughed. “You’re perfectly right. Alright, I’m not going to tease you more. We should keep going.”

***

The seemingly ordinary world of Caval wasn’t totally ordinary, once they started to investigate the heroes and defenses of the various city states of Caval. There were segments of uniqueness to it, such as the many magical swords on the world of Caval.

The heroes of Caval, when they were summoned long ago, would also arrive with something called the [Seed of the Hero Sword]. Each hero would then, through their own growth journey, grow this Sword Seed into a magical weapon worthy of them, and throughout the world of Caval, there were hundreds of remnant hero swords, left by earlier heroes.

Completed hero swords were extremely powerful, they contained a large fragment of the hero’s power that grew as the hero developed over time. Even incomplete hero swords, left by the heroes that died too young or early, were still decently powerful artifacts.

Interestingly, the journey of the heroes of Caval also takes them through the path of gathering the swords made by previous heroes, to add the power of the old hero swords to their arsenal of abilities.

Naturally, I began to wonder why these worlds were this way.

Did the planetary core influence how a world’s heroes worked?

***

Lumoof held up the strange object in his hands, and willed it to activate. We could feel the power of a divine artifact, it twisted the world so viscerally that anyone nearby would’ve felt as if the world itself was torn apart to create the small tunnel.

It linked the world, and Hawa, if only momentarily, for us to speak. It felt like a sheer waste of divine energy, but then again, what could be more important than the exchange of information between two multiworld powers?

A part of me was repulsed by that sort of overbearing thoughts, but a large part of me embraced the reality long ago.

“I was wondering when you would have more questions?”

“Well, then I finally have them. Why do heroes seem different from world to world? How exactly does the hero class work?”

“It is not too much of a stretch to say that it is a trade made with the system. We petition the [system] for heroes that are adapted to defeat the demon kings. The hero classes themselves are created through the system. Think of it as visiting a merchant, and you tell the merchant that you wish to purchase a weapon with a certain set of attributes, and a certain set of skills. The merchant would then go to the back of it’s room, and after searching and cobbling things together, it would then offer you a selection.”

I paused. “Then the mental controls on the heroes?”

“Our earliest attempts to summon heroes cost us too much of our faith points, we gave heroes all the power at the very start, only to find that they misused our gifts. Rather than deal with the demons, the heroes summoned did everything else. In quite a few worlds, the heroes ended up destroying everything. They were a medicine that killed its patients. A cure worse than the disease.”

This was something I long suspected.

“So, as a whole, we imposed conditions on the heroes. Many of the gods came together, back when the world was much smaller, to collectively control heroes. The heroes were a very sharp knife, and we wanted it directed specifically at the demons.”

“Then the worlds-”

“Each hero class, offered to us to choose, is a combination of our parameters, and the restrictions imposed by each ‘world’. We cannot summon a dragonling hero to a world without dragonlings. We cannot summon a lizardman hero to a world with only humans.  These conditions are within each world’s inherent conditions. In worlds where everyone uses magic, working with the world’s restrictions and conditions reduces our faith point cost. Think of each core as a micro world with it’s own rules. Overcoming the rules costs faith points. Working with the rules reduces our faith points. It already costs us too much to pluck heroes from the source worlds and then send them over to these demon-attacked worlds”

We listened. “But- why do the core worlds have these rules? Where do they come from?”

“At the heart of that question, is a question of our origin. That is something I do not know the answer for. Even we wonder what truly is our origin story. Where we came from remains a mystery to even the most ancient of us.”

“But surely worlds and rules come from- somewhere?”

“In the early years, there was an idea that we are all creations of dreams. The unused radiant thoughts of the source worlds. It remains to be proven. But I digressed. Each world has its own rules. Overcoming them has a price. ”

There were questions.

“For my core worlds, I am able to alter the core’s rules directly, because I exert control over their core. I can weave my divine laws into them, and change how each of these different worlds function. There are limitations imposed by the system, but ultimately, it is all a matter of faith points.”

“Then, can the heroes gain divinity?”

“I’m afraid not. It is an inherent restriction of the hero class. The hero class is a borrowed power. A god cannot borrow its power from another.”

“Even those freed?”

“Freed?”

“Those that escaped from the mental restrictions and altered the hero class.”

“That is not supposed to happen. But no. The power remains borrowed. The hero class is linked to a store of divine power from the system.”

I see. Colette’s chances of having a domain is nil. Unless she gives it up for- “But they can trade their hero class for other classes-”

“Yes. But there is a cap. There is a distance they will have to climb on their own merit.”

I see. But then, I look at the heroes, and remembered there was a question I really wanted to ask. “Why the heroes? Why pick them from the source worlds?”

“Because they have the best souls.”

“Really?” I found that hard to believe.

“What you see is after the system’s meddling. But the souls of those from the source worlds are most suited for the perils of interdimensional travel.”

I thought about the question that the heroes asked. “Do they- do they really return to their source worlds after they die? Can they go home?”

“I have no ability to send them back, so I am not certain. But the system claims they will, so they will.”

“How? Is it really a lie? What is the system?”

“I have no answer to that. Know that what is created across many worlds are often random. Worlds that cannot self sustain simply collapse, and those that can are all that remain. Unusual and different, but they have reached a point where they can function as self-sufficient worlds. At least, until the demons threatened to consume us all.”

At this point, I felt the powers of the divine artifact wane. It would need some time to recharge.

“There is no need to worry, we will speak again.”

We had answers, but we still had more to do.

***

Fifth world – Magisar

Lausanne and Ebon looked at each other during a short break. Just a while ago, they helped the Magisarian humans out of the rubble. Some of these humans, who didn’t want to live under the rule of the Tower Masters, left the tower and decided to strike it out in the vast wilderness.

The wilderness, filled with monsters and the demon golems, plants and demonic hybrid plants, was a hostile environment, but these refugees decided rolling the dice was worth it, at least compared to the cramped and slum-like living standards of the Towers.

This group of refugees were not that big. Just about one hundred people.

“Are you really from another world?” The leader of the refugees was a relatively strong mage at about level 52. He was supported by a group of thirteen level 40 mages.

“Yes.” Hoyia’s calming presence worked like a charm. To the refugees, she was the presence of the divine itself, a woman of tremendous holiness that even the mages cannot help but believe. The man stared. “But I am not the hero.”

The heroes of Magisar, at least, some time ago, used to arrive once every two to three decades. Not enough to quell the demon king’s reign, but enough to buy time.

The hundred or so were fed, and given food. The food provided had to be plant based, because the differences in blood type were then immediately noticeable. They vomited when given meat from other worlds. It was alien meat to them, and their bodies, though similar in appearance, were not able to tolerate the meats from the other worlds.

At least they responded to the healing energies, and that sort of energy transfer still worked.

There would be a lot of things to study. The interactions of the Magisarian humans with all the different types of materials available would be something they needed to check. Despite the natural magical aptitude of the Magisarians, if the side effects of their body were serious, it may seriously hinder their ability to operate offworld.

***

Lausanne snuck into Gorfort Tower. It wasn’t difficult, aligning one’s mana to the frequencies of the teleportation spell was fairly simple, compared to the mana attunement required to travel through demonic rifts.

Every single Level 125 Valthorn is familiar with the basics, even advanced versions of a few other major disciplines. They had to be, because out in the fields, it was really hard to know what the other worlds could throw at them. Even if they didn’t receive a class in those unrelated class trees, the skills and knowledge still helped their overall performance.

“How is it in there?” Ebon asked via their message network. He was located a distance away, clearing out the demonic hives. It was quite easy to locate more refugees, once they figured the patterns. The refugees generally preferred wide open spaces where it’s hard for the golems to surprise them.

So, rather than look for easily defended places, the mages exploited wide open spaces where they have range and it is easy for them to use spells.

“It’s surprisingly sad.” Lausanne found the living conditions terrible. Due to the space scarcity in the Towers, everyone was crammed into a small space. Ultimately, Lumoof’s information guided them to one of the mages they stalked.

The mage Metteria Hudrot lived in a small room, just big enough for a bed, and four shelves. There were no bathrooms, and instead, for their level, the bathrooms were shared by a few units together, similar to a dorm.

She lived in a less pleasing place when she was lower leveled. Under level 30, a mage was pretty much just a peon, and would only have a bed and a small box as their personal living space. Even children were centrally managed. For the low level mage-parents, they were pretty much living in tiny rooms with stacked beds.

“Who’s there?” Metteria Hudrot looked around, and Lausanne smiled. “Who- who are you?”

It was easy to tell they were different. Their skin tones were different. Their build was different. Lausanne had dense, lean muscles throughout her body, while Metteria was thin, almost boney. Unlike Lausanne’s rounded joints, the Magisarian humans lacked the muscle mass and their joints protruded from their skinny frames.

Lausanne knew it wasn’t the diet. She knew of humans that strictly consumed vegetables that still had muscle mass. This difference was in their blood and genes. Their stick thin appearance is a norm.

“Hello. I’d like to talk.”

“-what?”

“I’m sent by the man you saw during your mission a few weeks ago. The man that vanished.”

Metteria’s eyes immediately widened. “It wasn’t an illusion!”

“Of course. Now, will you come with me?” Lausanne approached her, and suddenly a magical portal appeared right next to Lausanne.

Metteria gulped. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we can talk in greater detail.”

There were probably a million questions going through the mage’s mind, but it was important to learn more about the Tower Masters of the various Towers, before making contact. So, they had to infiltrate and learn about their society from the middle, where they had enough knowledge and access to see the bigger picture.

Lausanne would try to contact Metteria’s master, next. It would be easier if Metteria could do the introductions.

They would slowly find potential allies, learn about the various Tower Master’s pain points and weaknesses, and see how they could absorb these Towers into the fold peacefully.

By Lausanne’s own estimates, Aeon had much to offer these Magisarians. She only hoped that they were wise enough to accept the deal.

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Unliving Book 1! 

For the longest time, Aideen Fiachna had only one prescient wish; to be the daughter her parents could take pride in.

The idea was a tall order, especially as her father stood at the head of the Templar order, and her grandfather as the Pope. However, she endeavored to try nonetheless.

Yet fate had a different path in store for her.

For all her efforts, all her best laid plans, were but the broken off crumbs of ‘one day’. That day, she was brutally slain by a vile, accursed undead being.

Though, not even restful eternity awaited her in death.

She awakened inside a coffin. Her coffin. During her own funeral wake. Discovering, to her horror, that she had risen. Not somehow resurrected, no, but back in the form of that most hated of beings–the curse of undeath.