Godslayer Lysette: Chapter 220

Chapter 220: The Forward Garrison

Lysette flew her avatar as quickly as she could over the skies of northwestern Kraciell, hoping to reach the front lines before any of her friends or followers succumbed to the ravages of a mad god.  Though time was of the essence, Lysette chose not to take the shortest, straightest path to the front line.  Instead, she chose a slight detour that didn’t pass over the open ocean.  With Terea and Thosse being known enemies, the risk of flying over the sea goddess’s dominion seemed too great to justify saving an extra half hour or flight time.

Although her avatar still wasn’t nearly as fast or powerful as her primary body, Lysette had spent a considerable amount of Essence over the past season improving its combat parameters.  It now possessed a wide variety of Lysette’s own plant manipulation techniques augmented both by Mirae’s Ice control and even a few Fire attacks that Serrena had shared with her over the past couple of weeks.

And yet, despite her efforts, her avatar’s strength was only barely keeping pace with Rayleigh.  Being limited to a single mental partition was the primary limitation of the body in matters of combat prowess.  She had more than enough experience with aurasight to use it on a single mental partition, but combining it with trying to both defend and counterattack and use other abilities was a bit much, even for her.

As she flew, she considered her objectives in this endeavor, and how best to go about them.  As much as she wanted to exact her retribution with every fiber of her divine being, her presence wasn’t going to single-handedly win the war for Domaria.  And, were she to tip her hand too soon, she might well jeopardize all her hard work over the past nearly half a year since her rebirth.

No, her strategy on the front lines had to be far more subtle than simply ransacking soldiers and making a name for herself as an elite infantry unit.  Far better to do exactly the opposite.  Avoid drawing attention to herself, focus on small edges where she could get them.  And most importantly, make full use of Essence Siphoning to improve her strength while doing so.

But all of that would be easier said than done.  Any string of successes, no matter how much she tried to obfuscate them, would invite greater scrutiny and renown from the commanders on both sides of the war.  And announcing her plans to her own side would be even more counterproductive— the generals would surely seek to use her power to secure temporary victory without regard for the deeper potential of her demonic power.

Lysette sighed.  It meant that, even if she saw Dani and the others again, she wouldn’t be able to reveal herself.  Wouldn’t be able even to comfort her friend for the first time in the better part of four months.  She chose to distract herself from these feelings of unease by coming up with a cover identity for herself, filling in as many details about her fabricated backstory as she could.

As she passed over the western edge of the Spire Mountains and made her way toward the front lines, she ascended to the very peak of her ability to fly.  Past the highest peaks, above the cloud line, far beyond where anyone could hope to see her, to where the air was deathly cold, the winds brutal, and the sun a scorching inferno bearing down upon her.

And she watched, taking a demigoddess’s-eye view of the front, searching for where the command centers were and where she should land without being discovered.  There was an Elithrian encampment not far from what had once been Osstia, but she resisted the urge to immediately set that wrong to rights.  Instead, she chose a larger Domarian outpost about twenty miles further north.

Considering the number of carriages and soldiers both arriving from and departing the fortification to the interior of Domaria, it seemed like both a logistics hub and a processing facility of sorts for soldiers new to the front.  Although she had no documentation as to her status as a former Academy student, nor even formal leave to join in the upcoming operations, Lysette hoped her abilities and the nation’s desperation for gifted Cultivators would see her through such formalities.

She dove down with great speed, heading toward a deep forest grove about three miles northeast of her destination— far enough that she’d not likely be spotted, and near enough that it would not take too long to traverse the remaining distance on foot.  Two minutes later, she touched down upon the ground, pleased that her first ploy was a success.  No signs of human life in the immediate vicinity, and no fluctuations in the Essence, at least that her aura could detect.

She made her way toward her destination, enjoying the rustle of the warm and familiar breeze of her homeland.  The greenery all about, the soft dirt pressing against her shoes, the complete lack of snow or any other signs of winter’s embrace as still very much existed on the northern reaches of the continent.  All that separated her surroundings from ones familiar to her foraging outings as a human was the shouting of soldiers and the clang of armor out in the distance.

Lysette made her way at a measured pace, careful not to arrive too quickly and blow her cover before she even had a chance to formulate it.  And after about twenty minutes, she finally arrived at a fortress that definitely wasn’t there when she was summoned to the Aestori sanctum months prior.

It was constructed primarily of logs fastened together by earthen Cultivation techniques into a series of walls, battlements, and barracks that among them could house somewhere between five and ten thousand soldiers.  Uniformed personnel stood watch all around the garrison, and notably among the gathered soldiers, there was an even mix of Cultivators and non-Cultivators engaged in various drills.

“Raise your hands!” a quartet of soldiers said.  They appeared from all sides, surrounding Lysette with spears pointed at her.  None of the four were much of a threat, but Lysette chose to comply.  She did question internally why she’d been asked to raise her hands in such a manner— it didn’t affect her ability to use her techniques in any capacity.  But if that’s what she had to do to have her chance to enlist, she’d do as they asked.

“Due to the conflict with Elithria, the border is a restricted military space until further notice.  We must insist you leave at once.  If you do not comply, we will attack.”

Lysette slowly dropped to her knees, keeping her hands raised the whole time.  “I apologize.  I am a Domarian Cultivator living out in the countryside and I’ve come to offer my assistance.”

The one female soldier among the four raised her hand.  She looked not much older than Lysette, with tan skin and jaw-length, dark brown hair, and was the most powerful Cultivator of them by some margin.  Her uniform had a nameplate reading ‘Rothiel’ on it, and across her other shoulder was a fairly decorated set of insignia.

As she approached and eyed Lysette, the other three raised their spears and stood at attention.  A minute of silence passed, during which Lysette remained as still and silent as she could.

“That may be so,” the woman— Rothiel, presumably— finally said, “but I cannot discount the possibility that you are an Elithrian spy.”

“I understand your concern,” Lysette said, “and I would be more than willing to display my loyalty to Domaria with action.  Is there some way I can prove my allegiance?”

Rothiel eyed Lysette some more.  A brief sensation of pressure upon Lysette’s brain followed before she turned around.

“One thing is certain: you are a Cultivator of some renown.  However, I cannot make this decision on my own.  You are to remain here until I can speak with the garrison’s commandant.  If you do not comply, you will be considered an enemy spy and treated as such.”

“I understand,” Lysette said.  “May I have some water while I wait?  I feel this may take a moment.”

Rothiel nodded before turning around and jogging back to the garrison.  The man to her left tossed Lysette a small bottle of water, after which Lysette took a small sip and slowly moved from her kneeling one to a seated position.

She closed her eyes, not willing to try to Cultivate while surrounded by a potentially still hostile regiment of soldiers without a backup consciousness to stay aware of her surroundings.  But she did take in the familiar scent of the grasses native to her homeland and subtly grew the grass underneath her as a slight cushion while she waited.

And wait she did, for the better part of two hours, all while confined by several soldiers.  Halfway through her waiting, the three soldiers were recalled to other duties, and three others took their place.  Lysette paid them little mind, but did notice that all six of them were highly disciplined.  Not a single one said a word as they gazed upon Lysette, only briefly looking away to keep watch on the surrounding area.

At the two hour mark, Rothiel returned, and the three soldiers each saluted her before marching back to the garrison.  She called out to Lysette.

“Alright, Recruit.  I just spoke with the vice commandant and, considering our military situation, he’s willing to hear you out.  But let me make one thing clear.  You will treat him with the utmost respect and deference.  I know that Cultivators who choose to live isolated from society tend to not be fond of taking orders, but this is a military operation, and you will be expected to act with regard to the situation.”

“It shall be as you stated, Rothiel.”  Lysette offered a half-nod alongside her words.

“Lieutenant Ari Rothiel.”

“Karel Tronete,” Lysette said.  The former name seemed an appropriate homage to the man whose body she now operated, and the latter a combination of her own and Mirae’s last names.  She offered a handshake, which was rejected.

“Salute, soldier!” Ari yelled.

Ari stood at full attention, looking up slightly to Lysette’s eyes, and Lysette Reciprocated, though looking slightly down toward the lieutenant.

“Not bad at all.  You just might have the makings of a soldier after all.  Now then, follow me.  March onward!”

The final two words were spoken in a pointed cadence, all syllables screamed at maximum volume.  Ari turned around in a single fluid motion and began marching at a swift yet measured pace.  Lysette continued to play the part of a model soldier, following Ari’s steps with perfect precision as the pair headed up the small dirt road to the garrison’s front double door.

“Is this the one?” one of the guards asked Ari.

“Yes, Soldier.  I’ve been instructed to deliver him directly to the vice commandant without delay.”

“Acknowledged, Ma’am.”  He tilted his head up and shouted.  “Open the gates!”

A clanging sound reverberated through the hills as the massive, fifteen-foot high double door pushed open, revealing thousands of soldiers engaged in various drills in the central plaza, which was itself as large and spacious as the Academy back on Domark.  The only soldiers who even acknowledged Lysette’s arrival were a quartet of escorts who approached and surrounded Lysette and Ari in a square formation.  They joined in lockstep military cadence alongside the two, and the six continued on.

To Lysette’s left, a quartet of Fire Cultivators were engaged in a simulated combat exercise.  To her right were about eighty soldiers conducting unarmed and improvised weapon drills while being overseen by a well-decorated and heavily-scarred soldier.  And in front of her was a large building, lacking in decoration or history but no smaller or less grand than the Academy’s Central Administration Building.

Lysette was highly impressed by the speed with which the Domarian military was able to construct such a faithful facsimile of the Academy so far away from the nation’s heartland.  And she realized that the Academy was, in fact, also the blueprint for the nation’s military in physical command structure.  This, in addition to serving as the preeminent training facility for the nation’s up-and-coming Cultivators.

Upon reaching the building’s threshold, the escorting soldiers dissipated as quickly as they appeared, leaving Ari and Lysette alone as they proceeded inside.  Ari’s march dissipated to a brisk walk, and Lysette again followed course, trailing behind by precisely three paces until the lieutenant abruptly stopped in front of a large office.

“Recruit Tronete, you will not speak unless addressed.  You will remain still and at attention unless ordered otherwise either by myself or by the vice commandant.  You will follow all orders without question or delay.  You will answer all questions promptly and honestly.  Recruit, have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Lieutenant, Ma’am,” Lysette said.

“Very good.  Now then, inward!”

Chapter 219: https://www.patreon.com/posts/112940076

Table of Contents: https://www.patreon.com/posts/101896170

Chapter 221: https://www.patreon.com/posts/112940080