Thunder rolled across a rain-soaked Artorion, coming in the wake of blinding flashes of lightning. An unnatural chill filled the air as the powerful storm wracked the whole valley.

Ever since planting Mir at the top of Westmount and raising it into the sky, the storms that had come to the Artor Valley had intensified greatly. Whether that was because of the lance itself, the fell energies of the uncapped Aesii affecting the weather, Leon’s power, or a combination of all three, Leon wasn’t sure. What he was sure of, however, was that he loved it. Every freezing drop of rain, every gust of wind, every flash of lightning and accompanying boom of thunder had his blood singing in tune. He’d spent many a night flying through these violent storms in his Thunderbird form, reveling in the natural power of the weather. They came fairly frequently, too, so he could certainly afford to indulge.

Such an indulgence wasn’t in the cards for this storm, however—but he wasn’t upset by this. Rather, something far more important was happening, one that he took no small amount of pride in attending.

He stood on a rostrum in front of the great mausoleum built not long after his arrival. The place had been renovated several times, each time making it grander in scale and décor. Great statues of the Ten Tribes’ Ancestors stood around the courtyard, while a great carved Thunderbird perched above them all. The courtyard itself, made of gleaming polychromatic marble forming gorgeous fractal patterns in the floor and the flanking columns, was so large that ten thousand people could assemble within it.

Ten thousand people had assembled within it in anticipation of this storm, and about half of them were fifteen years old. The other half was older, consisting of Tribal elders, Clan Chiefs, and family members of the adolescents.

Many of the young were shivering in the freezing rain, looking decidedly uncomfortable. As much as Leon could sympathize with them, he was in no hurry to complete the ceremony. The proper procedures had to be followed to ensure that everyone was safe and that their Ancestors, who they were about to see with their own eyes, were properly respected.

By Leon’s side on the rostrum were the highest elders of the Tribes who were in the Nexus. Singer-in-Caves, Tillan, Iron-Striker, Solomon, Ipatameni, Menander, Xanthippe, the Jaguar, and even Nikolaos were all among those present. Leon’s wives, too, were present, watching even though none of them had a bloodline. But, Ancestors willing, their children would one day be down in that same courtyard undergoing the same ceremony, and Leon ensured that they had a place in the ceremony because of that.

The ceremony itself had undergone some changes in the past two centuries since the Ten Tribes made him their King. Where before, all of the Tribes had their own awakening ceremonies, now all awakenings took place in one large ceremony held once a year on Westmount. This was the first time many of those participating had even been to the Nexus since most who lived in Leon’s Kingdom still called Kataigida their home.

The participating youth were brought to the mausoleum courtyard on a stormy night—and, in particular, a natural storm, not one that Leon summoned with his power. Accompanied by their elders, Chiefs, and oftentimes their parents or guardians, they took off some of their clothes without sacrificing their modesty, and their bodies were painted with strengthening runes, preparing them for what was about to come. Then, words were spoken by many of the elders attending the ceremony, mostly extolling the virtues of their particular Ancestors and calling for those about to awaken their blood to live up to the promise of their blood.

And then it was Leon’s turn to say a few words.

His voice was thunderous, audible to those in the back even above the storm raging all around them. He spoke the same words that he’d spoken in every awakening ceremony he’d held for the past century.

“You stand on the precipice of greatness,” he began. “As you are now, you are human. But you have something more than human in your blood. In facing that power, in confronting it and making it your own, you will become something greater than human, something more connected to the universe! Now steel yourselves, and prepare to join the ranks of your fellow Tribesmen!”

For a moment, cheers went up around the courtyard, and Westmount itself almost shook with the force of their stomping feet. Then, from within the mausoleum came an enormous ritual bowl. Made of stone, inscribed upon the outside was a fractal lattice of runic glyphs, woven together to create an enchantment of great power.

This beautiful work of blood magic was born from the deep pool of knowledge held by each of the Ten Tribes regarding their own power, which had been added to by the former vampire Valentina. Through her efforts, combined with the knowledge of the Tribes, she’d refined the awakening process until it had been rendered almost completely safe. In the past century, only a small handful of kids had been lost to the awakening ceremony, to Leon’s great relief.

The enormous bowl was carried by a dozen giants, each in bronze bodies heavily decorated with symbols of the Thunderbird. Blood of countless powerful monsters gently sloshed within as the bowl was brought before Leon and the watching elders. Despite the ferocity of the storm around them, the enchantment along the rim of the bowl prevented even a single drop of rain from disturbing the crimson concoction within. Once placed on the rostrum, the giants took up positions by the mausoleum’s grand doors—they were the highest-ranked of the hundred-strong corps of giants Leon had created to watch over and maintain the mausoleum.

The elders filed past the bowl, each one letting their inherited power flow through the bowl—wind, the air tinted slightly blue from the Eagles and almost white from the Hawks; brilliant golden light from the Lions; pinches of iron and sand from the Harts and Spiders; crimson lightning from the Jaguars; ice from the Ravens; sparkling blue water from the Bison; bright orange fire from the Tigers; and smoky darkness from the Bears.

Finally, once all of the elders had ‘added’ their magic to the bowl, Leon stepped forward. He held his hands aloft over the bowl, and from the sky, a bolt of silver-blue lightning struck the stone vessel. The runes flashed as his power danced across the surface, and the blood within, already softly glowing not just from the elders’ powers but also the magic power of the beasts sacrificed to fill the bowl, grew brighter and brighter until it rivaled the brightest bolt of golden lightning in the sky.

And then Leon curled his fingers, and a lightning bolt, blacker than the Void itself, burst from his fingers and ‘mixed’ into the blood.

In a moment, the blood within the bowl stilled until it was mirror-smooth. If Leon hadn’t known that it was still liquid, he might have mistaken it for some kind of blood-colored ice, polished for decorative purposes. This wasn’t an intended effect of the enchantments on the bowl but rather seemed to come from the effect of black lightning. Leon wasn’t sure what, precisely, it did, but the first time he used black lightning for an awakening ceremony led to one of the larger spikes in the ceremony’s survivability, so he continued to do it.

Most reports claimed that the young mages who underwent this ceremony experienced closer and longer encounters with their Ancestors, with some even claiming to speak with close family members who’d died before the ceremony. These couldn’t be verified and it wasn’t a universal phenomenon, so Leon wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Regardless, as he watched the blood still in the bowl, Leon stepped back, and in complete silence, the elders, Chiefs, and other prestigious members of the watching crowd began taking small cups and filling them from the stone bowl. As the blood level went down, enchantments on the bowl had the blood flow up toward the rim, where it then flowed through tiny carved channels to the bowl’s rim. The blood flowed from lips on the rim making it easy to collect.

From there, the cups were taken to the waiting teens, and once all had a cup in their hands, Leon raised his arms in welcome and boomed, “Drink, and join us. Drink, and claim your power!”

There were a few who hesitated, but most immediately brought their cups to their lips and drank. Within a minute—and perhaps a few whispered words of encouragement from present family members—all participating kids had drunk their fill.

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Power raged around Westmount. Such power seemed like it could shake all of the Nexus, though Leon knew that it wasn’t even strong enough to be felt that far outside of Artorion. Still, thousands of bloodlines awakening all at once made for quite the spectacle, overpowering even the storm around them.

It took nearly an hour for everyone to wake up. Leon hardly breathed during that hour. It wasn’t until Iron-Striker formally reported to him, “All the young ones have awoken. All have survived,” that he finally exhaled. His muscles relaxed as he gazed out at the courtyard full of people. His people, united behind him, their power as radiant as the Origin Spark.

With a loud, bestial cry, Leon took to the sky in Thunderbird form. Behind him, the Chiefs and elders did the same, until representatives of all Ten Tribes flew in the air above the mausoleum whether they had wings or not, their cries of triumph making it clear not just to Artorion but to his entire Kingdom that everyone had survived the ceremony. Their celebrations were picked up in the valley below, the joy and relief in the outcome shared among all who called Leon’s Kingdom home.

With such power behind him, he felt like he could take on all of the universe and come out on top. From what he knew about Nexus politics, he felt that such a threat might be more real than he imagined…

—

The Sen’uus labs always gave Leon chills, and not the good kind. Alchemy labs always had strange smells in his experience, but there was an unnerving sterility to the mad couple’s workspace that made his teeth tingle and his hair stand on end.

Speaking for their entourage, Cassandra growled, “I hate this place,” as they approached the building.

“You didn’t have to come,” Leon replied. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you decided against it.”

A smirk fought past Cassandra’s scowl. “I wouldn’t leave you to face these two alone. I wouldn’t wish such a fate even on that soggy bitch Miuna.”

“Careful,” Leon whispered as he wrapped his arm around her waist, “invoking her name seems to make her appear.”

The Diluvian Princess had made good on her promise to visit frequently, and Leon had observed a curious coincidence where often seemed to arrive not long after being mentioned for the first time in months. Frustratingly, she rarely arrived with much warning.

“I can handle her easily,” Cassandra insisted with a determined look. “A pampered Princess against a warrior Queen? Not even a contest.”

“Let’s not test that. But if push comes to shove, hopefully these two will give us something tasty to use that’ll guarantee our victory.”

Cassandra nodded with a mix of grim determination and ecstatic glee. The Sen’uus couple hadn’t yet let them down, even if their experiments were utterly mad.

The unnerving feeling Leon had outside of the lab intensified as he pushed open the door and entered the sterile room. The floor was made of white stone polished to an almost mirror shine, while the walls were darker metal, whose enchantments focused on containing and nullifying explosions. Tables covered in alchemical equipment abounded, and large distillation vats, mixers, burners, and tanks lined the walls. Boxes and baskets lay on pallets and tables, the former of which were filled with ingredients that Leon had sourced, while the latter contained the bounties that Nura and Kaifa had gathered themselves. The latter were, by far, the more concerning.

Many of the plants, mushrooms, and other such material that Leon had gathered and grown for the couple were rich in lightning and fire magic, the latter of which were easily acquired now thanks to the port at Lancefoot making trade with the Burning Lands relatively easy. The former ingredient type was locally sourced either from Leon’s farms and forests or from the lands east of the Bolt Mountains.

The plants and other materials that Nura and Kaifa had gathered, meanwhile, had been taken from the caves below their feet. The ghastly energies of the Aesii had infused the flowers and trees down there with their deadly poison, making anything taken from the Aesii extremely dangerous.

This also made such ingredients extremely desirable for the two alchemists, and they frequently ventured below ground—more frequently than was considered even semi-safe, certainly—to acquire more.

As Leon and Cassandra walked in, Kaifa was leaning over a dozen vials of some glowing substance, arranged in such that the vials to Kaifa’s right were a richer and bolder red, while those to his left were less and less red, leaving the one on the furthest left to be almost completely cloudy white. Nura, meanwhile, was only a few steps away, calmly recording Kaifa’s observations.

“… would need a correspondingly more powerful catalyst—ah, King Leon! Queen Cassandra! Welcome! Welcome!” Kaifa warmly greeted the two, immediately setting aside what he was doing. Nura did the same, her wide smile hinting at the two having certain triumphs since the last time Leon had come to hear a report from their own mouths.

“This isn’t a bad time, is it?” Leon asked politely. “The expedition to Kesken will launch in two months and I was hoping you two would’ve made some progress in your work before then.”

“Progress is slow,” Nura responded, “but steady. Breakthroughs are inevitable when you bring us materials of such quality.”

“And… yes, we have made a breakthrough,” Kaifa proudly declared. His face fell a moment later, however, as he added the important caveat, “But… we’re still working out the proper ratios for the key ingredients. When last we spoke with Finds-Much-Iron, he was insistent that we increase the safety of our bombs.”

Find-Much-Iron was a sixth-tier Hawk who the Jaguar had installed as the Chief Quartermaster. He managed the vast bureaucratic apparatus that handled logistics for Leon’s military. He was also in charge of contracting with people like the Sen’uus couple to ensure that what they delivered was on time, at or under budget, and performed the required task without endangering the lives of the kit’s users. Thankfully, as Kaifa and Nura were directly employed by Leon, the budget was almost limitless and entirely handled by Leon’s household, keeping their experiments from eating into the military’s allotted resources.

More than a century ago, Leon had received quite a few complaints from his soldiers about the quality of what Kaifa and Nura delivered. The weapons were certainly potent, but they were almost prohibitively expensive and had to be handled with extreme care, lest they cause damage to friendlies before they even reached a battlefield. Consequently, Leon had ordered the two to prioritize the safety of the operator when it came to their weaponry.

“Come and see!” Kaifa exclaimed, waving Leon and Cassandra over to see what he and his wife were examining. “What do you see when you look at these?”

“Red water,” Cassandra bluntly stated. Leon wasn’t sure he agreed, as he could sense truly awful auras surrounding the vials, though they were muted and of variable quality. At the very least, he was sure that whatever abominable concoctions were in the vials were several kinds of terrifying.

Kaifa looked almost insulted. “I… all right, let’s just get right into it, then? These, Your Majesties, are the future of warfare! I am certain of that!”

“Really?” Leon asked doubtfully. “Lances have performed admirably so far, and there are many other enchanted weapons that are being worked on. Nestor and other researchers are even coming close to replicating the cannons on the ancient destroyers, if to a lesser degree than what we have now.”

“Those cannons are large and power-intensive!” Kaifa dismissed with a wave. “These are more targeted weapons, more dangerous weapons for mages to face!”

“They will be once we get the mixtures right,” Nura clarified. “And once they are, they’ll revolutionize even Lance weaponry!”

Leon arched his eyebrow and focused on her, his wordless command followed immediately.

“These are not potions,” she explained as she joined her husband in showing off the vials of varying redness. “These are explosives. Or, they will be explosives once they are complete. In liquid form, they are about as dangerous as diluted alcohol—though they’re incredibly toxic to ingest, so… maybe they’re also useful as poison? We’ll look into that, too, but right now, these are meant to be distilled, filtered, and boiled until dry, leaving behind a sandy mixture that’s not only safe to handle, but also highly explosive. Put these in droppable bombs or fill Lance bolts with them and you’ll magnify their lethal potential many times over!”

Leon frowned as his eyes washed over the vials. Cassandra looked doubtful, and he found himself agreeing with that sentiment. “They’d have to perform very well to outclass explosive enchantments.”

Kaifa audibly scoffed. “Enchantments will make something more explosive, King Leon, but these mixtures contain the essences of an Aesii! A mage can survive an explosion, but they can’t survive the kind of terror that such a place can inflict upon them! Do you remember the explosive we gave to Manny all those years ago?”

Leon blinked and crossed his arms over his chest, his aura flickering for a moment. “Yes. Yes, I do remember that. Quite vividly.”

“Well… these mixtures would make that weapon look tame in comparison! And with some work, could be scaled up! Imagine bombs and Lance bolts that not only cause damage to a mage’s physical body but can hit them in their soul realm too!”

A smile slowly broke through Leon’s stony exterior, and he relaxed his arms. “How long do you need to make these new weapons a reality?”

“They’ll be ready by the expedition,” Nura claimed. “The first batch, at any rate, so they’ll be limited, but a few thousand Lance bolts and a few hundred bombs are conceivable by then.”

Leon nodded. Such weapons wouldn’t be expressly needed with Kesken if the estimates for the locals’ power were accurate, but for stronger enemies, having a weapon that can strike at someone’s soul realm would be invaluable. It certainly would’ve helped during his war with Terris, at least, and should any other titled mage in the Nexus get any ideas, it would be nice to have these weapons in his pocket…

“Keep working,” Leon ordered. “I want those weapons ready as soon as safety allows.”

Kaifa and Nura assured him of the weapons’ safety and stability before he and Cassandra left them to their work, satisfied with the progress that had been made.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep