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Unbound-Chapter Eight Hundred And Sixty Five: 865
Hours later, Beef stood within the heat of the Elderthrone Forge, basking in the ringing sound of crystal on steel. Harn worked beside him at the main forge, shaping metal with a silvery flame that he conjured from his own blood. This flame, a product of his newly-evolved Skills, was apparently exceptionally good for forging.
Harn moved with exacting precision, grabbing a piece of metal, leaving it in the flame to heat up. As it did, he pulled a crucible full of silver-green liquid. His arms were slick with sweat but steady despite the intense heat and great weight—he pivoted from the forge to his worktable. There, he poured it carefully into a shape set into a basin of sand. The metal filled it to the brim and immediately began to cool into what Beef recognized as mithril, cast into the shape of small ingots.
"What’s the point of this?" Beef asked.
Harn didn't stop moving, but he spoke with the easy casualness of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. "Workin’ on my alloys, tryin’ to make orichalcum work." He pulled that chunk of metal back out of his silvery flame and it was white-hot. With smooth motions, he placed it on his anvil before lifting one of his many crystalline hammers off the wall. "I don't have much orichalcum, but I'm seeing what mixtures I can make work. Last time I did, I made arcanite. If I push it, I can work orichalcum, too. I knew it. Eventually. My Skill is getting closer to Master with every single day."
He started pounding the metal into shape, each strike ringing out like a bell.
"Think you can make me some armor, then?" Beef asked.
That drew the man to a stop, and he looked at Beef from under his sweating brows. "There's a reason Felix doesn't wear armor. He's tough enough that all my craft is going to do is get in his way. You pose a similar problem.”
“My Strength and Endurance are very high, but my defensive Skills aren't nearly as good as Felix's."
"It's not that.” He put down one hammer and picked up another. It was made of a purple-white crystal. He flipped the metal and starting shaping it again. “Look, it's like startin’ a fire. You put enough friction on somethin’ and it heats up, right? Same thing with armor. Stress it too much, it'll crack and bend, even just melt off your body. You might not be spec'd for speed, Beef, but your stats will push any armor to their limits. Why not just keep wearing your Hallow? She seems made for that stuff."
Beef frowned. He wasn’t wearing Hallow now. She was off training with the Risen after their defeat. "I can't always expect her to stay wrapped around me. Sometimes we have to split up. And then I'm left with... this." He gestured to the chitin armor he had summoned onto himself in her absence. "If I remember to shape it, at least. It's strong, but it's not... it's not enough."
"Don't be too discouraged, Lord Beef. Your ability to endure is among the greatest of the Unbound we have found." Laur, the Elven Chanter. He was set up inside another workstation and had a number of metal panels arranged before him. "Focus instead on what you can affect. Your Entropic Paradigm, for instance."
"I suppose. Oh yeah," Beef said snapping his fingers. "We were supposed to be testing fortifications, weren't we?"
"Indeed. You seemed to have a lot on your mind, however.”
Beef waved his hand. “I’m fine. Just—I’m fine. What do you have for me?”
“I have researched a good deal into the disciplines of architecture and siege equipment, and I've come up with a great many suggestions for you."
Beef sat up straighter. "That'd be helpful. What d’you got?"
"Well, these are my primary interests," Laur said, spreading out several schematics onto the stone table.
"A wall, a tower, and a shielded..." Beef hesitated, tapping at one of the drawings. "Is that a Manaship?"
"We aren’t sure what it was once called, but the Pagewrights call it a Spade. It’s meant for short overland travel, but you're right in that it works like a Manaship. The propulsion and limited flight operates on similar principles. I know you're familiar with those."
"I can make ships," Beef said, "but the engines are too much for me. If you're expecting me to do this on the fly—”
“I don't believe they are beyond you," Laur said.
"I tried before. Couldn’t even make sense of the sigaldry.”
“These aren't nearly as complicated as Manaship engines. They don't operate at the same scale, for one thing," Laur waved a hand, "but that doesn't matter. We can have engines prepped ahead of time. The shipwrights can take care of that. The hull, however, and these reinforced prows, those are your domain."
Beef looked at the drawings again. The front of the Spade came to a point, but it was blunt. And the name made a lot of sense, as the thing looked like a shovel from a top-down view—a shovel with panels and a roof that resembled nothing so much as a tank.
"The walls and towers make sense," Beef said. "I can see how we could use those. But if this is just a Manaship, but shittier, what's the point?"
"The point is this," Laur said, before lifting a sheet of chitin off the counter. Beef had summoned them a day previously at Laur's insistence. It was what the Elf had been testing. Mana washed over its surface as Laur activated a Skill. A ward encircled it, shimmering with rainbow hues like an oil spill. "Your chitin takes to wards very well, so long as the form is proper."
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"Proper?”
Laur cleared his throat. "Wards aren't as simple as most make them out to be. They require precision above all else. Some structures are easier to shield than others, with complex geometries leading to the wards bunching around corners and the like. Lacking a deft touch would result in the wards failing, or worse, exploding."
Beef grimaced. "Yikes."
"The Spade, walls, and tower are all things that I and the other Chanters can ward easily and quickly. That is why I picked these three out of the very many I have researched. If we can break down how to make them quickly on the battlefield, then I can ensure they're shielded when we approach Amaranth."
Harn looked the drawings over and grunted, one of his crystalline hammers in hand. "Don't look too complicated to me."
"Oh no, there's more there than what's obvious," Beef said, scooting himself forward and jabbing one of his meaty fingers at the tower. "This here, for instance, has reinforcements in a mortarless construction, using friction to hold the separate pieces together. Except I shape things whole, meaning I need to alter that…unless that would make the walls too rigid. Plus these internal buttresses here and here. If I have to put this together alone, I need to know it inside and out, and know it well."
“Why not just make them several strides thick?" Harn suggested. "Enough armor could stop any number of strikes."
Beef huffed a frustrated breath. "I could, but it'd cost a ton of energy, unless I made them all a single piece. Is the lack of flexibility okay? Do we know that?”
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“We do not.”
“We need to test it, then,” he said. “Even if I can supplement my Mana with entropy, I still have to conserve it. Plus, it’s got these arrays here. That’s for flight, right?”
“More of a hovering function, we believe. These schematics have only ever been built by the Lucent Towers and those were too expensive to fabricate.”
Beef blinked. “We’ve never made them?”
“No one has. Chancellor Tern diciphered these from scraps left by the ancients. He gifted them to us when the Emperor requested defensive options.” Laur smirked. “I suspect he wanted us to build them more than anything else.”
“Oh. Felix on point as usual. That guy’s got it all figured out, huh?”
Harn snorted. “The kid’s got ideas, that’s for sure. What’s your verdict on makin’ them thicker, then?”
“I’d guess that thicker chitin would make it harder to move.”
"Agility and Endurance are but facets of our Bodies.” Orun said from the side. The Eidolon Exalt, along with Telys, were standing with some apprentices and had slowly meandered in their direction. “True defense requires balance.” He slammed a fist against his stone chest. “But overwhelming Endurance has its own benefits.”
Harn grunted in approval. Beef wasn’t so sure.
“More chitin might mean it’s harder to reak, but I just fought Vess, and she plowed through my chitin. If I add a little structure it holds a lot better, but Vess still blasted through it on pure strength alone. She isn't even Master Tier yet. We're gonna be facing down a lot more than that."
"I'm sure you can do this, Beef," Laur said, patting the Minotaur's thick forearm, "but these are just my ideas for your exceptional Skills. Do you have any?"
At that, Beef’s frown deepend. "Less of an idea and more of a problem, really. I've built up a lot of Risen now. Some have good armor, like the Adamants, but the rest are basically naked. I've learned how to make armor and weapons out of chitin, but they degrade against a strong enough opponent. Like with Vess, right?”
“What’s your point, kid?” Harn asked.
“I think I need weapons and armor from the Forge. Enough for all my Risen.”
“We’re strained as it is. How many can you summon now?”
“A lot. If I’m focused on quantity over quality, I can Raise three hundred.”
Harn rubbed his chin. “No small amount. And you Raise monsters too, right? So different body shapes. I can’t account for all of that, but I could potentially lay out some basics for each of your mortal Risen to don when the time comes.”
“You would be required to carry the resupply with them, or have the Risen retreat back in order to gear up,” Telys pointed out. “That could waste much time.”
“Dang. You’re right.” Beef dropped heavily onto a thick stool. It groaned, but held. “That won’t work.”
“What about different techniques for the weapons and armor?" Laur suggested. When Beef only frowned in confusion, the Chanter continued. "It's like you said. There's an exacting structure to follow with architecture, things that will reinforce it against the attack of enemies. The same is true of weapons and armor. Is that correct, Master Kastos?"
Harn grunted. “Sure. You gotta fold the material in the right way. It strengthens it, creates flexibility and durability. Do it the wrong way and a blade can snap in the middle of a fight.”
“I don't think I can make chitin like that," Beef said. "With walls, I can add, you know, structures—”
“But can chitin be forged?" Harn interrupted.
"I don't know," Beef admitted. "I've never tried."
"Huh. Let me see some of those sheets.” Laur passed him a stack of chitin, and Harn handled them like they were made of paper. “Very light.” He bent a piece, and it flexed slightly. “Fairly pliable, but is it malleable? I'll see if I can't fold Mana into the material. If we can come up with something better than what you're making, maybe then we can see about copying it with your Skill."
"Is that possible?" Beef asked.
"Many things are possible beneath the Grand Harmony," Laur said, putting a hand to his chest. "We do not know the limits of what we may accomplish. Not truly. Most of the limits we encounter are the ones we place upon ourselves. So it is worth having an open Mind, Lord Beef. It is also worth mentioning that Mana folded material provides more anchor points for my wards, allowing them to hold for far longer."
"Really? Okay." With a bit of effort, and a chunk of his own Mana, Beef forged a few more sheets of chitin that Harn's apprentices took over to the forge. Harn stepped after them, calling out orders to stoke the fire and fetch him a specific hammer.
For the first time since the spar out in the forest, Beef was starting to feel a bit hopeful.
He snapped his fingers. "Oh, Laur. My Risen are acting weird."
"Weird how?" the Elf asked.
"Well, it started with Fafnir. She's got a lot of personality compared to any other Risen. She can ignore direct orders and has been the only one to learn a new Skill. She's even got something like a Spirit of her own."
The Elf tapped his chin. "Isn't Hallow the Spirit for all of your Risen, just as she is yours?"
Beef rubbed at his chest. "Yeah. She is. Hallow controls all the rest, but Fafnir fights back. It's not just that, though. Hallow's saying that the others are growing somehow too.”
"Growing how?"
"Well, the one’s we’ve held the longest—the Multipede and the Sharpwing Matriarch—they're getting stronger by the day, but it’s different than Fafnir. When Hallow orders them about, they respond faster and with less direction. We don’t have to give them all of our attention anymore in order to carry out even complicated tasks."
“Is that not a consequence of the growing Skill?” Laur asked. “Pushing your Hallow Rise and Call to near Mastery must have exception effects on its ability to facilitate your Will.”
“It’s more than that.” Beef struggled with the words to explain it all. “It’s like the magic's changing them.”
"That makes sense," Orun said from the side. "Any item imbued with enough power for a long enough time will change.”
“What is this?” Laur asked. “I am not familiar with this theory. Change how?”
Telys laughed. “The world is alive, Magus. Can you not hear it?”
“Of course I can. The Grand Harmony permeates all—is all.”
“And its rhythm and tempo change with time and effort.”
“Conscious effort,” Laur corrected. “Skills, arrays, and the Chant itself are methods to direct and transform that power.”
“Skills—” Orun winced, and Beef recognized the expression. He’d run into one of the gaps in his memory. “That is my point, Magus. Will and Intent transform the world around us. What happens, then, when a Minotaur fills a corpse with his own Spirit and Will?”
Beef shook his head. “No way. You’re saying I’m changing the corpses just by reanimating them?”
“You think you are not?” Orun shot back. “Do you think the Emperor is the only one who can bestow significance? We all do it. Each and every Skill we use is flecked with it. Infinitesimal, but present. Over time, that adds up, changes things." Orun pointed to the chitin sheets that had been slipped into the Forge flame. "But it ain't just this you're using, is it? No, your Risen were mortal or monster, with significance of their own."
"But they're dead," Beef said.
"You think who we are vanishes after death?" He tapped his own chest. "How do you think the transference works?"
"Wait." Beef held up his hands. "Slow down. Are you saying all you Eidolons are dead?"
Telys rolled her eyes. "No. Our Bodies were destroyed, but our Minds and Spirits live on. What’s more, we can still use our Body Skills."
"Fascinating," Laur said, his eyes glittering in the light of the Forge. "You retain the advancement from your Body. How?"
Orun shrugged. "I haven’t a clue. Wasn't awake for the transference. Eagin says something about echoes and the like, but it's beyond me. Point is this." Orun pushed his hand into the shallow basin of sand near where the mithril ingots still cooled. He removed it and left behind a deep print of squared-off fingers and a chunky wrist. "We leave an impression behind, even if our aspects are gone. Your Hallow Rise fills in the spaces, takes control. That's necromancy."
Beef ran his fingers through the sand, tracing the outline of the handprint. "What's the difference between a Risen and a living creature, then?"
"Good question," Orun said, shaking away sand with a grin. "Can't wait to hear what you figure out."