Weapons of Mass Destruction-Chapter 523: Assistant Nathaniel

After the usual “keeptheevilswordsleeping” maintenance, I find myself serving as one of the many people out here shoveling the snowdrifts. The higher-ups have decided we should do it manually to prevent unnecessary mana leakage, so for now, we can only use mana inside these incredible tents.

Naturally, I wonder if there’s some fantastic device we could be using to handle these drifts. Is there a piece of equipment that can just blast them away or evaporate the snow with a minimal expenditure of mana? Maybe a blower that barely needs any magical power?

Nope. We have shovels.

As the Rulers intended.

On the bright side, we’re all superhuman, so we can still move at remarkable speed, even in this shitty weather. Another plus is having that giant-race-or-something guy called Hed working alongside me. He’s got a massive shovel and, if I happen to be near him, I can slack off a bit. After all, I need to look out for my delicate body, don’t I? My Mana Physique is sensitive and I'm a weak, weak man.

Besides, I still have to adapt my [Bone Knitting] skill to keep up with all this physical effort. Sure, it’s a pain, but it’s already risen two levels, which is definitely a plus. It’s still not all that useful overall, but I’ve got a good feeling about it. I’m sure I can evolve it into something powerful, or combine it with some kind of synergistic skill. At least it’s been pulling its weight by boosting my bone durability to a level well beyond normal, which certainly came in handy in that fight with Jean when my skeleton was forced to withstand a downright ridiculous amount of punishment. At this point my flesh that’s holding me back.

“Don’t slack off,” Hed mutters, shoving away a pile of snow the size of a small car.

“I’ll make you a low common item if you pick up my slack,” I offer.

He immediately comes to a halt in front of me, looming like a mountain. The sheer amount of fabric that went into his clothing probably could have made a tent for a full party of humans.

“Mid common?” I ask.

“Just do your work, Nathaniel, like everyone else here does.”

“Why bother? It’s obvious things are gonna go to shit any minute, and you guys know it.”

My words make him pause. He lowers himself closer so I can hear him clearly despite the howling wind. “Do you actually know something more? Do you have a way out?”

“Nope. And also nope. Do you want to leave?”

A puzzled look crosses his face. He may be huge, but his expressions are exactly the same as human’s on a larger scale. “We’ve worked with lumorans before, and the pay was solid. Their level 9 technicians liked us, so we figured we’d do it again. But this? This is nothing like what we signed up for.”

“Did you talk to Serabeth and Quent about it?”

“Of course. They just said the mission requires secrecy and that we don’t need to worry about it. We knew we’d end up at the second front, but we assumed we’d be safe. I mean, Exoria Champion Feroy is rumored to be almost as strong as Champion Owain, and Owain is supposedly the strongest right after the lumoran Absolute.”

“Look, if you’re nudging things toward some alliance, go see Tess instead.”

“Aren’t you the strongest person in your group?”

“Hell no. Haven’t you ever seen Biscuit?”

“Who?”

"There should be a death penalty for such an insult. Anyway, I know we’ve had our share of spats here and there…"

“…you nearly tore off my left arm,” he interrupts.

I keep going. “But I think you’re a decent guy. I might not be the greatest judge of character, but I’m not totally clueless either. Just remember: my group will always come first.” 𝔯ἈɴՕ𝔟Èᶊ

The source of this c𝓸ntent is freewebnøvel.coɱ.

He gives a rumbling laugh and claps me on the shoulder, the gesture coming across as surprisingly gentle for someone his size. “Human, we velnar are used to that. The strong lead, the weak follow. You protect your own before anyone else.”

“Sounds like a neat code. Any other interesting velnar tidbits?”

“We don’t like lazy people who slack off and force us to pick up the extra work.”

“That’s wild. Tell me more.”

“Even if someone can’t work as hard as the others, they should at least show some effort. It goes a long way.”

“That’s even crazier. Seriously messed up. Anything else?”

That’s as far as I get though, because he’s already turning to shovel more snow. For such a massive guy, he’s surprisingly chill. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed. After all our group’s empath, Izzy already confirmed that Hed was probably the friendliest individual here. He’s also incredibly skilled in his use of metals and inscriptions, better even than the thylarin trio, including the one with the fragment of Eternal Fire. He even outmatches the other members of his crew, a pair consisting of a vyssari man and a human woman.

I notice the camp guards watching me, so I quickly get back to shoveling. Sticking close to one of the piles Hed already cleared, in an effort to make it look like I’ve done more work than I actually have.

Caught up in my personal mind space, I’m squaring off against Whitey once again, though “squaring off” might be too strong a phrase since I’m already lying on the ground, with both of my arms blown clean off and a hole through my stomach. Chunks of my flesh and bone are caught, hovering in midair, pinned there by Whitey’s Resonance Flow.

He’s sitting cross-legged next to me, looking utterly unperturbed by my near-death state and the fact that my blood and shredded flesh are suspended inches away from his face.

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“I never realized it, but we’re technically the same level,” he comments. “You’re level 301 now, and that was my level when I died.”

“Fantastic,” I spit back, tasting blood. Even if it doesn’t hurt as badly as it does outside, it’s still unpleasantly close. Why does everything in here have to feel so damned real?

“You’re not going to finish me off?” I manage. “C’mon now don’t play with your food.”

“A little pain should serve to sear that sense of loss into your mind.”

“Fucking demon.”

“Thank you.”

I groan. “This is so fucked up, so, anyway… when are you taking control of my mind?”

“Honestly? I could try at any time and probably succeed. You haven’t done much to defend yourself.”

“That’s bullshit. You realize I can see just about all of your memories, same as you can see mine, right? I know exactly what you’re planning.”

He gets up, flashing a toothy grin, showing off his inhuman set of canines. "Knowing won’t change anything. There's nothing you can do."

Still grinning, he presses his foot onto my forehead and applies kinetic force, making my skull crack from the pressure.

“Soon, we’ll fight unrestricted, and you’ll be using your mana. I know you’ve been thinking about how you should be so much stronger than I was,” he says. The force increases. “I’ll prove otherwise.”

Everything goes black, and then I’m back in my tent again.

“Quent, Quent, hey! Got a moment?” I shout, rushing to catch up to the lumoran technician.

“No.”

“Perfect!”

I hustle after the lumoran before he can enter Workshop number 2, the one I’ve yet to gain access to. He turns, exasperated, and faces me. “Assistant Nathaniel, I’m a level 8 technician. I have no time for silly questions. Ask level 7 technician Leth if you need something.”

“I did. He said he can’t help.”

He sighs. “Ten seconds.”

“I want to work in Workshop number 2, or at least do something more interesting.”

“No.”

“Then how about this?” I continue, having anticipated his answer, I unwrap a piece of fabric to show off a large section of golden chain—the one they used to bind the Champion down in the depths of the mines under Hollowhole. The Champion Biscuit chewed up.

“Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Yes.”

“At least you’re honest,” he replies, touching the chain.

I know it’s not actually gold, just gold-colored, and I still don’t actually know what it’s made of. I can’t even identify it, maybe because it’s too broken to identify, maybe because the system’s being a jerk, or maybe because I don’t officially ‘own’ it enough to identify it.

“That material…where’d you get it?”

“Well, time’s up. Sorry to bother you.” I say as I start to rewrap it.

“Assistant Nathaniel,” he says, a disapproving edge to his voice, “do you realize how often Serabeth, the other level 8 technicians, and the Exoria deployment camp guards complain about you?”

“Not really. Hardly ever?”

“Every single day.”

“Must be a different Assistant Nathaniel.”

“A week,” he snaps. “Technician Leth will administer a test for you and your group to gauge your abilities. If you pass, then I’ll grant you access to Workshop number 2 under his supervision.”

“That’s perfect. Thanks, level 8 technician Quent. See you soon!”

“Assistant Nathaniel…aren’t you forgetting something?”

Having enjoyed our little game, I finally hand over the piece of chain. He cradles it like a precious treasure and walks off with it. It seems the twins’ brand of mischief has rubbed off on me. Gotta admit it’s fun, and now I feel like I may just understand them a little better.

Bearing the good news, I head back to our tent, throwing off my outer clothes before stepping into the living room. As usual, Izzy’s intense blue flame is set for heating, and most of our group is gathered around it.

“They’re going to test us for admission to Workshop number 2,” I eagerly announce.

“Me and Aaron managed to tap into the defensive arrays on a few smaller tents,” Dennis adds, matching my enthusiasm. “With a bit more processing power we might even manage to break into some of the the less secure ones. Perhaps even the storage area!”

“Tess and I just got our asses whooped by Lily in melee combat. Nat, what have you done to her?” Maya demands, shooting me a disgruntled look.

“Even you, Tess?” I ask, turning toward the blonde.

She doesn’t reply, which says more than enough. And I grin holding my arm up for a high five from our petite terminator, Lily, who happily obliges. Group 4,5 wins.

“Anyway, I’m worried things might be even worse than we expected,” I say.

“They were way too quick to let you into Workshop number 2, weren’t they?” Tess ventures.

I nod. “It’s also been several days since Ardenyx left, and judging by the way Serabeth and the others are acting, it shouldn’t be taking so long.”

“What do you think, Izzy?” Sophie asks her sister.

“From what I can feel, most of the lumorans here are frightened because they’re in the dark, but they trust their Champion. They’re following him of their own free will, and they absolutely adore him. A lot of them would die for his sake.”

“So maybe it’s just some secret mission meant to help lumorans,” Sophie muses. “Somebody that popular probably isn’t evil.”

“I tried to get them to move us away from the front,” Tess says with a shrug. “But Serabeth refused. Instead, she raised our pay instead.”

Sophie snorts. “They can promise entire cities, but none of that matters if they don’t expect us to come back. Maybe you should try requesting payment in materials and info, right now?”

“Great idea. I think I’ll do just…” Tess begins, only to stop abruptly, as all of us sense a sudden pulse of mana and the camp’s defensive arrays burst into light for an instant.

We’re instantly on high alert, but no further commotion follows. Instead, I sense something else, an all-too-familiar presence returning. “Ardenyx,” I say, the name falling from my lips.

Pulling on our warmer gear again, we hurry outside. Just about everyone in camp, maybe a hundred people or more gathers to watch as Ardenyx comes flying in for a landing near the center of the camp. The war armor collapses onto its knees, its one remaining arm plunging into the snow to keep it from crashing face-first into the ground. The cockpit area is riddled with holes. A group of Lumorans rush forward to pry it open by hand, as though it were incapable of opening on its own.

They pull the Champion’s disciple out, releasing a cloud of hot steam to flood out into the cold air, accompanied by several bursts of mana. Moments later, Ardenyx blinks once before going completely inert, as though its batteries were drained, leaving the armor stranded without the pilot to supply it with additional power.

Before the delirious pilot can be carried away, I notice him clutching something in his hand, something I can’t identify, though it radiates an incredibly chaotic mana signature, as he disappears from sight, and I lose all sense of him. Unable to investigate further, I turn my attention back to Ardenyx.

It’s in terrible condition: missing an arm, its flight mechanism has been wrecked, the head is gone, and the torso is riddled with gaping holes.

When I try to move closer, a lumoran guard blocks my path just before all non-lumorans are ordered back to our tents, which are locked behind us.