Chương 124: Hand of Freedom

The Concepting is the greatest moment of every young Rhellian's life. Before this moment, they are considered lifeless. Before this day, they are not considered true Rhellians. As such, parents and guardians make this a day of great fanfare. Of good food, of great memories, of the moment where their child becomes a real person. For before this day, they are hollow. Concepting itself is an ancient process, the reception of the blessing from the Eternal Ruler of Rhel.

All Rhellians exist as members of the fabric that wraps all around Rhel, and without that connection, they can never gain the status of true Rhellian. For it is only the Great Guidance that sets them on the true path. It is only through the grace and benevolence of Kindly Mavar that any being becomes a true Rhellian. And for those who resist the call, for those who shun life itself, they are banished and relegated to the dark corners of history, serving as little more than lessons. Truth of Rhel Vectoven D.

Ryland had to admit that his first few hours back on Rhel were certainly eventful, if nothing else. When he had talked about complications with Alaric, he hadn't meant for them to be quite this exciting. Since he could soundly ignore whatever foolishness the guards were attempting with their Star Shackles, he could go about investigating the strange new magic that was present among them. It was a little hard, though. Not because he was being distracted by the shackle's magic.

But rather, by the panicked guards and their dogmatic leader.

"Sir!" the second guard said with fear shaking his voice.

"We have to stop this immediately! We need to end it right now, sir!"

"No!" the captain protested." Never. We've almost got this. We've almost captured him. We almost have him right where we want him."

"I really don't think that's true," Ryland said, slightly annoyed that he was having to correct their awfully incorrect notions.

"Lies! Don't give up now, men. Think of all the rewards. Think of how high Kindly Mavar will raise us. Think of the glory, honour, and riches!" Mad. The man was mad. It wasn't just his words. His eyes spoke the same thing, a feverish light rising up within their depths. He was not in the right state of mind. Not any longer. Meanwhile, one of his juniors was choking on his own spit as the virulent purple magic stabbed into his manasoul.

"Are you… not going to assist him?" Ryland asked. The captain just glared at him.

"How are you not keeling over and contorting on the ground? The Star Shackles are now more empowered than they've ever been before. This thing should be able to pull down an Archdragon!" Ryland simply ignored him and decided to focus on the guard dying right in front of him. For all that these Rhellians clearly bore him a certain level of animosity, it wasn't actual enmity. Certainly nothing akin to hate. Just propaganda driven into their brains by their superiors. By this First High Adjutant and her superior.

Which was why he had no reason to wish them fatal levels of ill will." [Mindscape]," Ryland cast.

"How daaaarrrr…." The captain's outrage at him daring to cast a spell at a time like this, when he was supposed to be subdued, got lost to the effect of slowed time. For all their hullaballoo about their Star Shackles, its drain was almost imperceptible against the brilliance of his manasoul. And that was in its suppressed state. The guards would probably start ringing the town bell and warn everyone about an apocalypse if Ryland truly unleashed himself here. Thankfully, that shouldn't be necessary.

With time slowed down to a near-petrification, he took a quick look through the magic affecting the guard. The rent was spatial. Something he was already familiar with. But the arm. That was new. It seemed almost… painted against the canvas of reality. Faintly familiar as that was, Ryland couldn't quite place it just then. He observed closely. A second of inspection suddenly reminded him of the Star Shackles. They were working with the same principles.

He'd have had a better understanding if he'd had the time to read its spell circle, but he hadn't even seen a spell circle activate. That rent and spectral arm had just pushed through the chamber with no warning at all. Hmm. Time unfroze. Ryland settled on his course of action.

"—re you cast a spell!" the captain shouted. But Ryland already had his next one ready to go." [Soul Severance]." The last time he had used the spell, he had been attempting to tear a Calamity's soul from the form it had chosen to inhabit. It was the only way he was able to eventually destroy it. The mechanism essentially used mana to create a separation between the soul and whatever else Ryland's mana targeted.

In this specific case, he had already noted that the spectral amethyst arm was clasping the poor guard's manasoul, gripping his magical spirit tightly.

So, he separated the arm from the manasoul with [Soul Severance]. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. The guard immediately stopped sputtering and clutching his chest like he was suffering heartburn. He still wasn't free from danger, however. The arm itself was still embedded in his chest, still attempting to get past Ryland's magic to continue its attack. But since the guard was free now, free enough to act on his own volition, he did just that. Act.

With a quick swipe, he tore off the shackles from Ryland's arm, immediately freeing him from that imperceptible tug he had been experiencing for a while now. At the same time, the spell that the captain and the second guard were maintaining now broke completely. Both men staggered back at that. Even more interestingly, that intriguing glow of an Inscription inserted into an unfathomable depth within them now lost its glow. Ryland could no longer sense its magic.

The chain reaction of the first guard's actions caused the Inscriptions surrounding them to flare back to life. They glowed again, recapturing the power they had lost a few moments ago. With a snap, the rift broke apart. The arm that had come out of it also dissipated to nothing. Everyone just stood there in silence, motes of fading mana slowly raining on them all.

"Well," Ryland said.

"I hope that proves just how pointless of an adventure that was."

"Pointless!" The guard who had been affected by that arm whirled to face him. There was a mad glint in his eyes, as if the crazed light Ryland had seen in the eyes of the captain had somehow transferred over to the guard.

"Yes, exactly! All of this is pointless. We must—" The captain tackled the guard. The second guard then piled on top of his companion, and together, the two men quickly had him subdued.

"Enough!" the captain growled.

"You aren't in your right state of mind, guardsman! Focus. Fix yourself immediately."

"I refuse!" He struggled desperately against his captors. For all that they tried to keep him subdued, they certainly couldn't silence him easily. Ryland almost winced when the man brutally bit into his companion's arm, finding the gap in the armour to breach the skin.

"I've seen the light! I've tasted freedom."

"I believe I may be rather lost at the moment," Ryland said. The captain gave Ryland a rather complicated look.

"We are in the middle of something dangerous. Let us handle matters for once."

"Certainly," Ryland said.

"I am simply awed that resistance to Kindly Mavar's control over his subjects has developed to such a sophisticated degree." The captain and the guardsman who wasn't writhing and twisting on the floor both raised their heads to stare at Ryland like he had just revealed something that no one should ever have uttered. Then the captured guard almost freed himself, so they quickly returned to their restraining efforts.

"You don't know what you're talking about, foreigner," the captain growled, words constricted in his effort to subdue his subordinate.

"Hold him for a minute. I'll call for help." He left the guards alone, which resulted in them rolling and wrestling all across the floor. Ryland deftly stepped out of the way. Meanwhile, the captain was busy yelling at others through the Inscribed Glyph of Communication.

"Actually," Ryland said.

"As I've already stated, I know exactly what's going on. [Biosoul Operation]." His Glyph of Genesis shone green edged with iridescence, Subglyphs coming into play an instant later as the spell circle formed. Ryland's mana emerged from his manasoul, strands flying and swirling into the body of the struggling guard. One of the Subglyphs was the Glyph of Tranquillity, which calmed the fellow just enough for Ryland's spell to take effect. Essentially, he was peering into the man's manasoul.

He found what he was looking for rather easily. There was a Glyph, a very powerful one, Inscribed right into his manasoul. Hmm.

"What in the world are you doing?" the captain asked.

"Who said you had permission to attack my guards with your magic?" Ryland cast [Mindscape] again so he could ignore the man for a bit. He found what was wrong inside the afflicted guard's manasoul. In essence, the man's soul was in disarray. And the main problem wasn't necessarily the interference from that spectral arm. Rather, the Glyph entrenched onto the man's manasoul was the real issue. For the depth to which the Glyph's hooks had sunk into the man's manasoul was like a barbed arrow sunk deep into flesh.

Ripping it out would leave the flesh even more terribly mangled. Which was exactly what had happened with the man's manasoul. The arm had tried to rip the hooks of those Glyphs free from the man's manasoul, which had left ugly wounds on it. Wounds that refused to heal and were covered by the same whitish gold of the Inscription as the Glyph itself. And these wounds were what was causing the man so much trouble. Time was returning to normal, which was good because Ryland now knew what to do.

[Biosoul Operation] was still active. All he had to do was slowly inject temporary mana into those wound-like notches in the guard's manasoul. As long as they were smoothed over, he'd be mostly fine. Of course, Ryland could try unseating the Inscription itself from the manasoul. But that would worsen things in a sociopolitical sense. He wasn't sure how much the other Realms knew about this procedure of Inscribing right on one's manasoul.

While someone like Sint might be highly intrigued at the idea, there were many who were rightfully afraid of the practice. Living Body Inscriptions were considered taboo enough. Inscriptions right on the manasoul? That wouldn't go well at all. And yet, they had looked past it enough to allow Rhel entry into the Accords. It was certainly not a procedure known by all. Ryland was quite certain most of the people from Arcoryx who had come over in this exchange semester didn't know about it.

But he had a feeling the people in power weren't ignorant. They were just looking the other way, as needed. Ryland finished injecting mana and the man calmed down. His work was done. The guard slowly stood up, looking vastly confused. His companion and his superior were both eyeing him carefully, though the captain was shooting several suspicious glares in Ryland's direction too. For his part, Ryland wasn't particularly satisfied with the outcome. Things were… more complicated than he had thought they'd be.

Kindly Mavar had an iron grip over his populace. This was widely known across all of the Realms. But what wasn't known, what Ryland was discovering himself, was that there existed cracks in his grasp. Gaps that others were exploiting. Others, like the people who had caused this mess.

"Take him away to the recalibration room," the captain barked at his subordinates.

"Hurry on now." The second one started moving his dazed companion.

"He seems… fine, sir."

"Stop talking and get going!" The guards hurried away. Just as they opened the door, however, several more of the guards all nearly tumbled in, crowding the entryway with their armour clinking and clanking against one another. They all talked at once for a moment, and the captain had to shout to restore order. Ryland wasn't particularly impressed by their discipline.

"Just one," the captain said.

"Only one of you can speak. What's going on? Why are you all here? And why now? I called for you over ten minutes ago and it took you this long just to climb one, Calamity-cursed floor?"

"Sir," said the guardswoman in front.

"It's because we were really busy. We tried to come up as fast as we could but we've been invaded."" Invaded?" That little admission had even Ryland's brows arching on his forehead.

"They're attacking us, yes!" said another guard. What happened to just one of them speaking?

"Those foreigners. They've almost taken over the entirety of the guardhouse! The ones from—oof!" There was a tremendous shove from the back that pushed forward several guards, which made the speaker simply smash into the floor. As the rest of the guards all spread out, the perpetrators of the debacle that had led to the guards' late response now appeared. Ryland blinked as he saw Tyra unleashing a war cry and entering the captain's office.

"We've come to free Ryland!" she shouted.

"Release him this instant!" Ryland exchanged a quick look with the captain, who stared at the Academ leading in the Arcoryx contingent before finally sighing.