You are not strong because of your victories, for that depends on the opponents. You are not strong because of your virtues, for that depends on the perspectives. You are strong because of your growth, for that depends on yourself.

“Did you feel that?”

“Hmm?”

“That ripple just now…”

“Aren’t you just being oversensitive?”

“No! Seriously, spread your mana ou- THERE! There it is again!”

“So what? It’s probably some idiots messing around outside.”

“Use your senses! That isn’t any weak mana from nearby, we’re being attacked!”

“Calm down, what could attack us he- Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

Dusty-brown mana was released explosively into the surrounding, remaining in a dome-shaped form until quite a distance outside the command tent. Papers flew and curtains ruffled, but thankfully, the person in question had no intention to harm those under its effects, but the feeling of foreign mana washing over you was never a comfortable one. It’s as if one was standing in a hot, humid environment despite not having any heat nor water in the air.

The corpses in the room reacted quickly in comparison to the normal civilians bustling about, like the maids and the cooks. Those with good control over their own mana are capable of releasing just enough to resist foreign mana. Inert mana naturally had less impact on their bodies, so that other than some frowns and discontent mutterings, they barely reacted more than that.

On the contrary, the others were quite different. Some, like the rugged guards and thugs, were able to stand tall against the dome of mana. They looked around them in awe and worship, incapable of comprehending how one person could emit such a powerful aura.

Those that are less lucky, fell to their knees and clutched at their throats. The very air they depend on to live was pushed away by the mana, as if they were plucked from the ground and dropped into a bubbly swamp. With each breath, they felt as if they inhaled immaterial liquid, slick and slimy. Their cells, unaccustomed to mana, quickly suffered from the prolonged lack of oxygen.

Prolonged to them. Serophe, the culprit, only wanted to check the validity of the ominous feeling she had. If what she thought was truly happening, she shouldn’t have to wait long to feel the ripple of mana she felt just now.

The five common senses of a human are well known, but others, more obscure senses are often forgotten. Sense of time, direction and balance… these abstract concepts are difficult to measure or utilise, but are definitely there. They could be trained until it could be used actively, and accurately. One such senses added to the world of Khondour was, as you can guess, mana.

It was the fundamental skill for all who wished to become strong. Sensing mana allowed you to react to enemy attacks, better control your own mana, find the congestion of natural mana to determine the spawning of Infernal Gates.

It goes without saying that sensing mana with your skin comes with its consequences. Strong individuals often train until a point where they could maintain a steady stream of mana outwards, at such a thin density that it becomes incredibly difficult to sense. When an unexpected energy enters their dome, or aura, their resistance can be felt.

Some people have Powers specific to mana sensory, allowing them to achieve the same effect at incredible distances, or reveal well-hidden mana, or identify the mana’s origins, affinities and more.

That wasn’t the case for Serophe. Her skill in control could only be described as lacking. Calling it a disappointment would be kind, stating it as a hindrance to her talent would be more truthful. Still, Serophe simply enjoyed the omnipotence she felt whenever she exhibits her mana in public.

This was understandable. Her store of mana far surpassed those of her age. At the beginning, it allowed her to simply overwhelm others at her level, techniques and skills be damned.

That was before she met the JanZe, or more specifically, him. She knew not of his name, and she venomously rejects calling him her master. He is a monster that should not belong to this world, him and his three outliers.

On the outside, she played the role of a hopeful protagonist, given a wealth of resources, to surpass her master and do them proud.

On the inside, she bottled the boiling envy, frothing at the seams of her mind.

Every time kindness was shown to her, she perceived that as condescension. When she was taught, she felt patronised. When she was helped, she imagined the mockery the opposition must truly feel inside them.

The JanZe, these monsters with power far beyond her realm of understanding, stolen her identity. How could she call herself a goddess when her mana can’t even be used as a hair dryer for the one she hates the most?

She was betrayed by the world, betrayed by her mentor and community. Her entire life was a lie!

She will take her vengeance, endure the laughter of those stronger than her for now. She’ll claw and crawl her way to the top, until she can tread upon the bodies of those who wronged her. All those with eyes of pity and scorn, as if staring at an insect – they shall pay. At any and all costs.

If she couldn’t beat them through sheer power, she will beat them through her intelligence. She will use their weakness, their own confidence, against them! Watch where pity and hubris will lead you, you four monsters, for I will tear you down as a goddess tears down a beast!

Her aura was somewhat unstable, but its shape can still be observed. She made up for her lack of sense, by pouring even more mana into work… until she felt it once again.

The mana… felt piercingly cold, as if someone splashed her with a bucket of ice water.

But she rejects that feeling. That was not her destiny. The others can’t deny her talents chosen from birth, to bring about her will upon the world.

She’s sure of it now. Perhaps not the direction, nor the distance, but something is happening somewhere close enough for her to feel it.

“It’s an attack! We need to organise the troops!”

“Don’t you think you’re being-“

“Are you going to waste time questioning me, or scrambling the god damn soldiers!?”

“Think about it! Who’s attacking, the JanZe? Out of nowhere, no declarations, nothing? We’re in the centre of our territory! How would they get near us without any warning? We’ve been receiving daily reports from all branches, you know?”

“I don’t know, maybe that little thing they have called PORTALS!”

“Then why aren’t they attacking here, smartass?”

“They don’t know where we are! They probably just teleported somewhere in the middle and started the fight.”

“Well, if th-“

“That changes nothing! It still means we need to gather arms and fight, so get the fuck off your arses and sound the bell!”

“They’re useless anyways, they’re basically hostages. Why don’t we just wait for them to reach us?”

“WHAT!?”

“Seriously. Each of us could take on a thousand of them leisurely. If they’re already here, what’s the point gathering them?”

“Yeah, they’ll be edict. They wouldn’t even slow down against the peasants.”

“Our actual card are the hostages, and there’s no way for us to lose, so it’s fine.”

“Once they start to get closer, we’ll meet them at the front. Attacking us out of the blue will give us an extra card when negotiating.”

“In short, calm the fuck down Serophe. Just focus on finishing those papers there. They were meant to be done a week ago!”

“Don’t you talk to me like that.”

“Or what? You think you can do without me?”

“…”

“A girl more aggressive than a boy, and a boy pettier than a girl, seesh. Both of you, chill out, or I’ll make you drinks again.”

“… Fine. Whatever, I don’t care anymore.”

“Finish those damn papers!”

“I’ll just fucking sign them. Who cares? Grain amount, water storage, who the fuck cares? If we don’t have enough, we’ll just demand it out of the JanZe. At worse, some people will have to compete. If anything, it’ll make our group stronger anyways, so whatever.”

“Fine, sure, but at least stop showing off your mana, it’s annoying.”

The oppressive mana disappeared, as if it never existed in the first place. The only signs were some broken fragile objects scattered here and there, misplaced or fallen items. Though the others seemed irritated that their room was now a mess, since they weren’t the one to tidy the place, they didn’t care too much about it.

The poor maids, some of whom succumbed to the darkness after being deprived of air for over a minute without warning, will be summoned to face this task mercilessly.

Half an hour later, the group scrambled to don their gear in panic and disbelief.

Above their heads, a bright red flare burnt a hole in the clouds, the fire greedily devouring the mana supplied by a mage far below, emitting mostly light and little of heat.

Its signal would reach only ashes and blood, for there were none left to respond.

The hive was vibrating like my mother’s toy… wait, no, like a social butterfly’s phone. The flurried movements of the confused soldiers, the buzzing of the weaponry and armour, the swarm of countless bodies. Where are they gathering? Who were the leaders? What were their tactics?

Much less their enemies, even they themselves had no clue.

In the meantime, the Corpses scuffled out of their tents, their legs slightly dragging in the mud as they, for the first time, questioned their decisions.

Around their camp, organised units of JanZe surrounded their perimeter at equal intervals, showing nothing but black, tight-fit clothing and pairs of indiscernible eyes. The difference between the two oppositions was clear.

On one side stood a group with decades of history. Their attire was specifically designed to be dehumanising so as to, among many reasons, put psychology pressure onto opponents. The abilities of each group are planned, and their spacing practiced. They had communication, leadership, experience and skill. Simply by facing them, the rebels, who once were so proud of their numbers, began to waver in their confidence.

On the other side stood an army surpassing the enemy 8 to 1.

In an attempt to re-establish the morale of their group, Serophe and her gang walked forward towards the 3 JanZe that revealed their faces.

They were not familiar with these 3, but their own appearances were embedded into the memories of all JanZe present, and with that their powers, preferences, habits, weaknesses…

Ignorance, not courage, allowed the corpses to continue marching forwards. Their intentions were clear, to trade with words and lives. The 3 JanZe brought along 6 others to match the numbers and set out to meet them at the middle.

“Confirm.”

“Confirm~”

“Do it.”

Like a verbal traffic light, Tim gave the green light to capture their prime targets to his team. Two edict JanZe suddenly dashed forward at incredible speeds, one leaving behind a crater on the ground, the other seemingly gliding across the earth as if ice skating.

Behind them, another edict condensed his mana into a beam of light, shining directly onto the Corpses that were their targets. Under the brightness, the corpses had no choice but to look away from the two charging JanZe.

In their defence, they reacted fairly well. Three of the corpses began throwing abilities – a ball of fire, a burst of wind and a slug of mana pellets, blindly at their front, whilst another created a grey mist around her arm in preparation. No communication was involved, nor necessary. Their experience of fighting together, as well as with each other, gave them an instinctual teamwork to support each other in a fight. Instead, they spent their precious few seconds shouting predictable disposable-villain-lines. You know, the usual ‘how dare you!’ and ‘what do you think you’re doing?’ nonsense.

Tim extended his hands and quietly spoke thus:

“I declare my domain.”

And so, a dome of mana enveloped their surroundings, encircling all corpses and JanZe within.

“Mana Erase.”

The corpses’ attack, encompassing three individual’s powers, simply dispersed mid-air before it could even provide the JanZe with warmth. Though this was a hurried response, it was still an attack made by three individuals together. None of them expected it to be negated so simply, nor do they know of the method.

At the same time, a corpse tried to ascend to the skies with his power in an attempt to get a better vantage point. Three corpses, presumably physical-based users, directly leaped towards the two oncoming JanZe, challenging them to a melee. Strangely, their ears were glowing green. Those of you who are familiar with games would have no problem identifying that as some sort of indicator for either weakness, or a buff. Their leader, Serophe, took a deep breath and stood beside another Corpse, who was busy forming a gigantic cone out of the earth.

It was a makeshift megaphone, aiming to empower Serophe’s Power further.

Unnoticed by the others, Major Jen’s pupils have shifted from its original black colour, to a subtle dark brown. Unlike the ears of the corpses, her power had limited visual hints, and her opponents never noticed it during the fight.

In the same second, several things happened at once. Two hands shot out of the ground, like a pair of dolphins jumping out of the sea. The earth reacted unnaturally, defying any laws of physics, as if it were some sort of gelatine substance.

“All beings, inhale.”

With that, Serophe, who was about to preach the book of heavy metal[1], suddenly found herself unable to utilise her Power. Her consciousness was suddenly taken over by an urge to continue inhaling, despite the protest of her lungs.

In the split second she took to overcome that impulse, by rejecting the enemy’s mana out of her body with her own, she was stabbed at the Achille’s heel by an insignificant-looking needle. A small prick of pain sent electric shocks up her nervous system. Quite literally, too, as the needles were imbued with properties of lightning. The same thing happened to the earth-bending corpse.

The head barely had time to surface when Tim’s command took place, otherwise this JanZe may have choked on the soil beneath. It wasn’t coincidence that the JanZe managed to accurately disable both Serophe and the other corpse. Neither was it some plot-convenient superhuman reactions. The eyes of this JanZe glowed a faint brown colour.

Most video gamers and anime watchers would associate lightning with paralysis, thanks to a certain fictional psychopathic unageing 10-year-old enslaving other fictional mutations of animals into an endless cage fight for entertainment and profit. In reality, being shocked by lightning causes a myriad of statuses ranging from arrythmia, to muscle spasms, to psychiatric disorders. In this scenario, the scariest showcase of Power and control came from Riley, the unmasked JanZe that kept herself out of the enemy’s attention as she dealt the biggest blow.

She was able to imbue her Power, electricity, into a specialised needle. Strong enough to interfere with their immune systems, dense enough to keep up the interference over a period of time, but also weak enough to not cause severe short-term damage or permanent effects. Her precision required detailed information on the opponents, as each persons’ body mass, mana attribute, reaction speed… they’re all different. The information didn’t come from nowhere; Riley’s eyes were also glowing brown.

This was a team that handled information, communication and execution in a coordinated manner, very much unlike the rebels. With Jen providing information to her group, and Tim forcing the enemy to lower their guard, Riley’s needle managed to activate before Serophe and the others managed to react.

The rebels were caught off guard in many ways, and their leaders are now backed into a corner.

[1] Reference to the song of the same name by the band, Dream Evil. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_WMHg8c_4I