Asheron's Fall: The Power of Ten, Book Six

Nothing came to bug us before the evening. There was a sense of excitement about discovering new things, and recovering old secrets and some of the power of the elders from a generation ago, however. The Mick’s endless bemoaning about how much better it were in the old days was all a point of fact, and all Kris had to do was draw out Quaver again, the spirals of Lost Light gleaming around the Blade and the blackfire from the inset stones blazing in it, for the scouts to realize that the Mick really wasn’t spouting a bunch of artful bullshit meant for them to appreciate what they had and work harder.

They really did have some powerful crap back then, it was true!

The four best melee combatants among the scouts were allocated to four Disks I whipped up, with the rest riding atop the Wagon. They’d all use bows or crossbows as they preferred, but if they had to fight, easier to hop down from a waist-high Disk than off the top of the Wagon.

With great fanfare, we pulled away from the Villa, where I’d turned a crude set of stairs running up the motte to the doorway into a sideways arc that was more manageable, repaired good sections of the floor, doors, and windows, and then raised a wall all around it for some additional defensive power. I even put a stairway around the back, helped clear off and reshape part of the roof, and put in an archer’s walkway all around the top of the thing.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than what had been left there before.

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The Mick and Princess Kristie cruised down the beach at a casual trot everyone else there would have had to flat-out sprint to keep up with. The scouts whooped as they tore across the ground as fast as a ridden horse, something none of them had ever done. The Mick had politely informed me that there were no horses on Dereth here, and none had made the transition, even in the armies of Viamontians and the like that had come through here.

There might be auroch-drawn wagons, but everywhere you went, you were doing it on foot or taking magic Portals as short-cuts here and there… and those Portals weren’t there anymore, either.

It was one of the dreams of the humans here to re-establish that network of Portals that had bound them all together so easily, and made reinforcement of fighting forces in separate areas so easy and readily done. With elite companies of soldiers able to move from area to area readily, far fewer actual soldiers were needed to staff and garrison places, basically sentries meant to call the alarm if a place were attacked, while the dispatch force would rapidly arrive to deal with any real attackers.

It had been a big evolution in tactics, and one welcomed by those who wouldn’t have to pay for standing forces in what was arguably an extremely violent world. Even if the Summons acted so unnaturally, standing around and waiting for something to wander close enough for them to attack, there were plenty of real and hostile forces even back then, and they were capable of and definitely had taken out entire towns and cities during their attacks.

And, of course, there had been adventurers. So many adventurers. Hungry for Karma and loot, and they couldn’t die, so they were always eager to get into fights against invaders of whatever stripe.

They should have been there for this fight, but they had been hit by the Fall the hardest, the most vulnerable ones to the mana wave that had ended up slaughtering so many of them.

And then nobody was coming back from the dead, and the living weren’t prepared for it.

Still, we were making headway getting to where we needed to go, while also scaring up some of the knowledge that we needed to attain. How long it would take us to gain that knowledge was something else.

Were the higher Scarabs that were discovered here still Castable, or had they mutated into a new form?

Could we duplicate the Blackfire Stones?

Could we duplicate or gain access to the Lost Light?

Could we duplicate and use the Elemental Stones?

What about these new Rubies?

Could we imitate and use, even improve on, the traditional Crushing Blow and Biting Strike Runes that existed in better forms here? Would they fit into the new Artificing Matrix system reasonably?

Could we access Armor Cleaving and duplicate it here? It was famously unreliable and difficult to make back in Ispar. What would be the cost to do so?

Would any of the Imbues they’d talked about be something we could duplicate? Even if it was only with Infusions or spells, the idea of expanded critical hits and threat ranges, added to the power of Renders, was a massive upgrade in lethality.

How easily could we shift people back and forth from the Power of Ten system and the Isparian one? The Power of Ten system was organic and would respond to attempts to break or exploit it, as magic was wont to, so equality across the gaps was the rule of thumb there. It would be parallel moves, but the sheer volume of Karma involved would be… interesting to sort out.

The Power of Ten system seemed much friendlier to combat types, even without access to chi. Everything I could read in the math said the warriors here had been inflicted with a massive dependence on proper Gear. While Gear was always great to have, a true Melee could be a massively threatening combatant without them, and that didn’t seem to have happened here. The Mick was going to be terrifyingly dangerous once he was fully kitted out with Feats, Masteries, Ki, and Soul Essence working for him, in addition to decent Weaponry.

All that, in addition to retraining all the Isparian Magic to a new paradigm. Well, that was life.

And then maybe humanity would start making a return to the main island, instead of being crammed into a small island home.

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Kris and the Mick covered a lot of ground at the speed they were going, and it wasn’t long before we ran into the first group of the Moon Legion of Mayoi coming our way.

The skeletal undead rattled a lot in their armor, but none of it fell off. The shore spawns were almost all undead, who the Mick hailed and went right on past, and the undead had let him by, obviously recognizing him somehow. I presumed he had a blessing or item on him from his Uncle that enabled them to pick him out and understand him, and the officers of the scouts did, too.

In any event, the company of sixteen skeletons in Sho armor, haphazardly maintained and in various stages of decomposition, came up to meet us, led by a more intact undead individual who had an almost recognizable face left to him, clad in bright blue and white armor that was actually in good shape. Wasn’t hard to pick out the rending line left behind in it that had probably killed him, however.

“Tokukawa-san!” the Mick called out in greeting, while we glided to a halt behind him. The undead in the half-mempo held up his hand, and the armored skeletons clattered to a halt instantly. “It is good to see you again! How has the Master been?”

There was a momentary delay as the burning undead eyes studied the lot of us, especially the floating Disks and Wagon. “The Master is well, Mick-san. What is this floating box you have with you?” his hollow, slow voice intoned with some difficulty, resting his naginata to show his neutrality.

“That is the property of her Imperial Highness Kristie Rantha-Briggs o’ the House of Briggs, Emperor of the Isparian Empire,” he replied matter-of-factly. The undead samurai guy had the grace to look startled. “Your Imperial Highness, this be Gunzo Tokukawa Menji, student o’ Master Ben Ten, adherent o’ Joji, dead at Hebian-To these many years past, an’ commander in good standing o’ the Moon Legion of Mayoi.”

“I see. Another noble fool who declared that duty does not end, even in death.” Kris drew herself up in front of the undead warrior without any fear whatsoever, staring him in the dead eye. “I am here to see that one day you may walk into the fires and finally embrace the serenity you crave, Gunzo Tokukawa. I thank you for your service until I can deliver upon that promise.”

“Your Highness!” the undead warrior returned, clapping his chest, a gesture instantly replicated by all the skeletons there, who bowed in unison to her.

“Are you of the Tokukawas of Minyoi, or Oshu?”

Her question plainly startled him. “The Portal took me from Minyoi these many years past, Your Highness!” he replied quietly.

“Time has not passed evenly between our realms, but Tokukawa Nunzuo, son of Anaoi, son of Kossou, is the patriarch of the Tokukawa of Minyoi. Are you of relation to him?” she asked calmly.

“Nunzuo is the Clan Lord now?...” he trailed off. “He is the son of my father’s brother, Tokukawa Kossou is my grandfather. What has become of the direct line? Our grandfather was only the third son...”

“Tokukawa Ossuo perished of the Wasting Plague, and his line was superceded by his brother Ajikuo. Ajikuo was an apologist and ally for the Viamontians, and with its defeat, his line lost all power and influence. Nunzuo served in the Crusade against Viamont and was rather quickly appointed Clan Lord when the Emperor took his seat. His son and daughter are students of my mother. I crossed bokken with them frequently.”

“Hai...” the dead Sho trailed off, his burning eyes focused elsewhere for a moment. “It is good to hear of my old home. Is the Clan doing well?”

Kris reached out to knock the Mick on the shoulder, to which he protested loudly and was ignored. “The pirates have largely learned to leave the trade vessels alone, and your cousin has made wise investments in trade, especially the spice trade. The Joji temple in the capital is also in fine repair, and the Philosophy of the Sword grows with its own adherents. Your clan and people are indeed doing well. They own the most-admired Sho restaurant in the capital, and a daughter of the Tokukawa serves as the Sho cuisine cook in the imperial kitchen.”

“Ah-yee, these are good words to hear! The troubles at sea and with Viamont expanding were causing great problems in our homelands and courts...” He shook the remnants of his head. “I trust you are here to see the Master?”

Kristie looked at the Mick, who answered, “The Princess here believes she can punch through the Shoreward an’ make a run over the water t’ the islands, without needing a Portal to bring us there. We are going to be moving through Mayoi an’ over the hills to a place on the coast closer t’ Kryst for the attempt.”

“Are you not worried about the things in the water?” the undead soldier asked immediately, waving his polished naginata over at the dark, moon-dancing waves to the east of us. “I would gamble fine odds that one of their kind is watching us in passing from the deeper waters past the Shoreward, even now!”

“Aye, that’s what I said, but she dinnae seem too worried about it, an’ after seeing what she an’ her advisor can do, I be not betting against them,” the Mick replied with a shrug. “There were a moarsman temple fresh erected at the smuggler’s cove up the shore, which we destroyed last night. The things o’ the Deep be not giving up on us, Gunzo.”

The undead soldier’s head turned past us, looking up the coast, and he nodded shortly. “We shall return with you to Mayoi, and escort you to the Master, Mick-san, Your Highness.” He bowed shortly again, turned smartly, and pointed. The skeletons clattered as they turned around, still in good formation, and set out at a tireless clip.

Without another word, Kris and the Mick followed, and the wagon followed afterwards.