345 - Seclusion [Sturmblitz] (Patreon)

“I want to say this is a formation, but… It does not follow common formation-building rules. You said the spire contains countless formations, and as far as I can tell that is the truth, but the flow of power inside the walls has not been significantly altered. How is this ‘formation’ not interfering with the others?” Zefaris questioned.

“It is more akin to the natural formations created by certain cultivator-beasts than a man-made formation…” Nesgon uttered.

They stared at one another in silence as the realization sunk in; the Newman Sect’s central spire had been, in effect, directly claimed as the elder’s innermost territory, with this same territorial claim extending to the sect as a whole, fundamentally altering the behavior of the compound’s barrier. Of course, the disciples were not told it in these terms. The Founder had harnessed her enlightenment towards reinforcing the sect’s defenses with a formation array born from a pure Truth, too profound to be expressed with rudimentary formation rules, and that was that. This was not a lie, merely an expression of the truth that did not expose the fact she had claimed the sect as a territory the same way a cultivator-beast would.

Days went by as Zefaris and Nesgon continued documenting the territorial formation array, intermittently joined by various other sect members, most often Sigmund and eventually Victor. By this point, the Dragonheart Bolus had been completed - or rather, a lesser version of it. A half-failure by Makhus’ own account, and a stunning success by the accounts of all those who assisted him in the grueling synthesis. Nonetheless, even at its significantly reduced potency, it sufficed to stabilize Strake’s state enough to temporarily disconnect him from Zero. A backpack was fashioned for him, with much longer cables, allowing him a mostly-functional range of movement in the tank’s general vicinity.

Makhus, after being forced to rest, immediately returned to alchemy, and the days continued to pass on like they were hours. Lucian’s grasp on the Bayonet-eater’s Creed and swordsmanship in general skyrocketed in this intervening time, even to Lydia’s astonishment, who had entered an impromptu master-disciple relationship with the young man, largely out of frustration and astonishment at his combination of dullness and talent.

Even still, Zelsys did not come out. At one point she requested another supply package, as well as a visit with Ozmir and Makhus simultaneously, but that was where her communications ended. The package included several dozen liters of Viriditas and Rubedo, separately, as well as large amounts of various herbs. Neither Makhus nor Ozmir would share what they spoke of with the founder, but they assured everyone that she was just consolidating her foundation. Ozmir was quick to point out that her seclusion could go on for a full year and it would still be short.

Before long the overflowing aura of bestial violence that still leaked out of the elder’s quarters receded, at which point Zefaris finally went in to check on Zelsys once more.

In the main room, she found many of the materials Zel had been provided, scattered around. Sharp pieces of metal were everywhere, cut perfectly with no deformation, and others to the contrary, seemingly torn apart with claws or bitten in half. Similarly, empty meal containers were stacked up next to the writing desk, far more than Zelsys would have actually needed, beyond her already superhuman dietary habits.

There, on the table, stood a cylinder of faintly iridescent steel, its surface bearing an elaborate pattern of glyphs arranged in rings and lines. The pattern was tribal, pure and simple, akin to what one might find at the sites of ancient ruins. As for the glyphs, they seemed a refinement, or perhaps purposeful alteration, of the pure and primal glyphs that made up the main spire formation array.

Shivers ran down the back of her neck as she approached it without thinking. The aura of implied violence only grew thicker the closer to the object she got, but it was nothing compared to what she had experienced in the past few weeks. She dared not touch it, but merely looking was enough. It was a pair of dragonsteel Thundercannon shells, reshaped into a two-part sleeve. Zefaris wagered the contents were likely no less dangerous than the usual filling of atrine-enriched powder and hardened cold-iron shot.

She continued past the writing desk into the bedroom, finding it empty. The same was the case for the library.

“The bath?” she wondered as she made her way there.

A wall of amber-coloured steam spilled out as the door opened before her, an eclectic mix of scents assaulting her nose.

Indeed, there she was, in the bath.

Curled up, near the bottom of the pool, barely visible as a silhouette. The reason was that the water could barely be considered as such at this point. Swirling with nebulous colours and emitting a faint glow, it resembled a truly arcane elixir such as the Fivefold Philter. The scent was organic, undertones of alchemy barely present beneath a thick blanket of life. Cautiously, she reached for an empty mixing bowl and scooped up a small bit of the liquid. It burned when she dipped her finger in it, such that she was certain she wouldn’t want to submerge herself. The small patch of redness quickly faded when she cleaned it off, leaving instead a patch of skin even smoother than the rest.

A few bubbles rose up from below, releasing bursts of Fog and crackling sparks when they popped.

Zefaris took account of the countless things outside the pool, trying to make sense of what all Zelsys had added in. It ran the gamut from Eisengeist’s blood, distilled Primary Spring water from the Aase clan, enormous quantities of Viriditas, and a number of reagents Zefaris didn’t recognize. She also found a notebook, left out in plain sight. Inside was Zel’s handwriting.

Date of immersion. Planned duration of immersion and date of emergence.

Right below, a simple descriptor of what exactly was going on here. Frustration flared in her gut. Zelsys had told her of this, but Zefaris had not thought it would come around so soon. Certainly not now. Not yet.