Chapter 302: To Build an Army
“The work progresses,” Balagra said, standing beside Vir. “But I have to ask—at what cost?”
Vir pursed his lips as he cast his gaze over the budding base from the ramparts of its tall walls.
A week had passed, since Vir had led his demons to the forest, and the camp was finally beginning to feel like a home. It wasn’t just the many wooden structures that had stood proudly where there had previously been only dirt, or even the routine the demons had fallen into. It was the small things—sleeping under a roof, the pounding of the blacksmiths’ hammers, the idle chatter.
There was an atmosphere of hope here that simply couldn’t have ever existed at Garrison Atnu. Thanks, in part, to the relative peace they’d won. The local Ash Beasts had mostly kept to themselves, and the opportunistic among them had either fallen into the moat, where they’d been picked off by defenders, or had turned tail and run when they’d been blasted with magic.
It hardly felt like the Ashen Realm at all.
And with Malik overseeing logistics, concerns such as sanitation, orderly distribution of food, ash sweep duties, guard duty, and a myriad of other affairs had been taken care of with little issue.
Of course, Malik certainly didn’t feel that way, but the demon had proven exceedingly capable of handling problems on his own without Vir’s aid.
As for himself, Vir continued his regular scouting patrols outside the garrison, but he’d been doing fewer and fewer of those as his attention shifted from construction to instruction.
That was both good and bad—it allowed him to concentrate on the real reason they were here. It also deprived him of the opportunity to search for nearby Ash Gates. There were practical reasons for those outings, beyond just Vir’s desire to report to Cirayus.
While the camp had a handful of blacksmiths among their number, they’d need access to new metal to repair armament when they inevitably wore down. Not to mention, blacksmiths could only do so much without anvils.
They also needed a thaumaturge—both for Vir to try and learn the arcane art—and to inscribe tattoos on the demons who currently lacked them.
The sooner every fighter in their army possessed an Aspect or Bloodline tattoo, the sooner they could begin mastering it. Vir was under no delusions that they’d learn quickly, but some tattoos were easier to wield than others. They might not turn the force into an Ash Beast slaying machine overnight, but they’d at least help even the odds.
On the whole, their situation would be almost idyllic, were it not for the unusual characteristics of their current location within the Ash.
“The time flow might not favor us here,” Vir said, “but we do have time. We have no other pressing engagements. No reason why we couldn’t spend another month in this place.”
“A month that may be close to a year outside,” Balagra said. “I suppose the world had written us off, anyway. What’s another year?”
While that might’ve been true for the troops, it certainly wasn’t for Vir, personally.
What of Cirayus? What of Maiya?
It was the latter he worried for the most. Maiya had been in a precarious situation when he’d left her. Was she alright? Was she safe?
Vir had to find a solution to this issue—and fast. As much as he wished to spend time in the Ash with his troops, he had obligations outside that he couldn’t afford to miss.
While he couldn’t be sure of the time discrepancy, he doubted—he hoped—only a month or two had passed in the outside world while he was gone. Whether that was simply a fool’s hope, or hope brought about by his understanding of how deep they were within the Ash, he couldn’t know.
For now, it was a problem without a solution. For now, the demons came first.
“Care to join us today?” Balagra asked. “Not that they’re slackers, but the troops really give it their all when you’re around.”
Vir smirked. “I was planning to, regardless.”
The demons shouted back enthusiastic affirmations and fell into their training.
Vir watched over them for a while before retreating to his quarters. There was a more pressing matter he had to attend to. A wall in his training he’d been hammering at with every spare moment. One he absolutely needed to break down.
Vir sat cross legged in the moderately sized log room that had been assigned to him. He’d initially refused, claiming such a space was an extravagance they couldn’t afford. Not even Balagra had that privilege—he shared a cabin with Malik and the other ‘officers’, as Malik had taken to calling them.
The remainder of the troops lived in the four long, rectangular barracks they’d erected. While cramped, it was still an enormous upgrade over the open bivy they’d had prior. Not a single one had complained. At least, not about their sleeping arrangements.
Fights had broken out—usually either over minor disagreements, or over one flavor of Akh Nara fanaticism versus another.
In the end, Vir had talked the demons down from building a multi-room abode to a single large space. With a raised bed of leaves in the corner as its only amenity, it felt painfully empty.
Vir hardly cared. He merely needed a place he could be alone for hours.
Opening his Foundation Chakra, he sunk into his mindscape.
The brown wood of the cabin disappeared, and Vir found himself in a forest like no other. Crisp, natural air tingled his nose as overgrown songbirds chirped high above in the forest canopy through which the rays of sunlight danced on the forest floor.
Vir wasn’t under that canopy. He was seated in a clearing, and there, the sun shined brightly, casting its warmth upon him.
A gangly demon crouched atop an enormous fallen Godhollow some paces away.
“Suggestions?” Vir asked Ekanai, who jumped down from his perch.
“This is not working,” his predecessor replied. “It seems that inflicting mental pain upon you will not open your Life Chakra.”
Vir’s fists clenched. “There must be a way.”
Given his powers, Vir should be incomparable to other demons. Untouchable. And yet, he was forced to tread with utmost caution every time he entered battle.
First against the Prana Gorger, then against the Chitran Army. The Warrior Chakra was like a knife in the dark, threatening him at every turn.
The one ability against which he had no defense. The Life Chakra, while useful in that it allowed him to hurl Chakra attacks, forcing his opponents to react in the middle of battle, was merely a stepping stone in his mind.
The one after that—the Shield Chakra—gave him proper defense against that of the Warrior.
“While I may not have grown closer to the Life Chakra, training with you here hasn’t been without merit.”
“Oh?” Ekanai rasped.
“I can feel it. It’s the same as when I trained with Cirayus. I can feel that I’ve grown closer to opening it. Perhaps not fully, but enough.”
“I see,” Ekanai said. “Just as you summoned me to this place.”
“Yes. I’m going to summon Shardul.”