Calm mana, calm… No way. It's ridiculous to think of mana needing to be calmed. Mana is malleable energy, not a kid throwing a tantrum! Mayalyn's great-grandfather concluded mana and density are sentient in one form or another and, therefore, likely capable of experiencing feelings. But none of my experiences have given me any inclination that it needs to be soothed.

  Then again, their masterium is the only thing affecting Mana Venom. I shouldn't dismiss their experience out of hand. Not to mention, they're more than competent builders, considering this temple’s formations, the spears, and that vehicle. Okay, assuming they're right, what does that imply? Mana doesn't always cooperate because it's in an agitated state?

  To test the theory, Jiran created a ball of Mana Venom so tiny he almost couldn't see it with his attribute-enhanced vision. With solid intent to calm and control the venom, an equally small clump of mana was released from the masterium in a distorted wave. They collided, and the clump of venom was pushed a few meters away. Jiran walked to it and attempted to control it now that it was ‘calmed.’ Unsurprisingly, it moved just as sluggishly as when he first tried to manipulate the skill.

  Hah! Calming mana, my ass. I knew that was a cup of shrelkpiss. Isn't it more like—

  Inspired by a flash of insight, Jiran created a bubble of unaspected mana and wrapped it around the masterium. He condensed his aura, hoping to sense what he sought within the wave. He then fed another burst of mana into the crystal, carefully observing its released distortions as they sent his bubble of mana back into his body despite his best efforts to hold the energy in place.

  What?! I even gave the masterium less mana, yet the instant they connected, it overpowered my control. How? The crystals split, refract, and then recombine mana. How is that process creating something capable of disrupting ninety-five levels of Mana Confluence?! And why does it merely move Mana Venom a little instead of overpowering it as well? Is it because I never really had control over Mana Venom to begin with? This keeps getting more confusing. What am I missing?

  Jiran hopped lightly, landing beside the Meersvant vehicle. Holding his masterium close to the one attached to the saddle, he created another wave, watching as it was absorbed by the matching crystal. His energy quickly entered the primary formations that powered the contraption.

  The crystals are definitely transferring unaspected mana like he said. I know it's rare for a species to have a method of moving unaspected mana beyond their skin. I never would have imagined using crystals embedded in their skin as a workaround. Wasteful since most of it isn't reaching the absorbing gem, given the way it shoots off in every direction.

  Wait. Why isn't it also moving the mana inside me since a good portion of the distorting wave passes through my body? I know it’s not being stopped by the membrane in my skin; is it my intent? If I willed the distortion to disrupt all of my mana, would it? Scary thought.

  Good chance all of these inconsistencies relate back to intent. I didn't have a particularly firm intent or knowledge behind what I wanted the mana I fed to the crystal to do; I just told it to return any mana it encountered back to me. Knowledge and intent always make mana more powerful, so why did basically unguided and intentless mana contain such power? Wait! There is one other thing that can ignore a difference in knowledge: a difference in tiers!

  How can I test that?

  Jiran repeated his previous experiment with no intent fed to the masterium. He wrapped the gem in a bubble of Mana Confluence fueled by all his knowledge, experience, and the intent of four combined minds. His eyes flew wide when the durable bubble of mana shattered into a million pieces that scattered into the dry wind.

  W-what?! No way! This is huge! The only way what I'm seeing makes sense is if the masterium is increasing the Concentration of the mana I feed it! It's not calming mana; it's increasing the Concentration beyond what my tier can control! That's why the energy goes haywire and disperses in a wave!

  Jiran swallowed hard, prickles surging across his skin. He desperately wanted to jump up and down while shouting like a lunatic but held himself back, barely.

  Does that mean Mana Venom can't be controlled because it's also a higher Concentration?! How is my skill creating it, then? It does feel a bit odd when I'm forming the venom. I assumed that was inexperience with the skill.

  Jiran repeated the same experiment one final time, wrapping a bubble of Mana Venom around the crystal. When the distortion was released, his venom expanded. Right when he was sure it would pop, it rapidly reduced in size back to its original shape.

  I don’t understand how it's doing it, but I do know how to check if I’m right.

  With shivers racing up his arms despite the heat, Jiran formed another ball of Mana Venom, this time with a new mental image that included the energy being of a higher tier Concentration. His eyes were closed before the messages appeared.

  Mana Venom: + 6

  Mana Confluence: + 4

  Unable to hold back any longer, he threw his head back and cackled.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  Ninety-nine confluence! I'm definitely on to something here, but it's not quite right, or venom would have leveled more. What am I missing? And what can I actually do with this knowledge? If I gave the crystal and Mana Venom the right intent, could I create a venom bomb?

  He lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow but smacked his helmet instead. Laughing again, Jiran shook his head at how oblivious he could become when getting carried away when experimenting with new skills. A mighty leap sent him cruising through the air; the kicked-up sand behind him blew high enough to crest the pyramid's tip.

  I should focus on gathering as much density from the desert as possible, not spending my mana on unending experiments. Besides, a little practical application might help me figure all this out.

  He landed a kilometer away, crashing into the sands that soon fell around him like rain, protecting him from the obnoxious sunslight.

  If the released mana is higher Concentration, it should get the same work done with less expenditure.

  His aura snagged the masterium and stretched into a long pole, carrying the crystal to the very end. His aura guided a thread of mana to snake through the synapses. It reached the crystal and quickly released a distorting wave that converted each mote of density it touched into fresh mana. Jiran held his breath for several long, tense seconds before the first motes arrived. More and more rushed in afterward until what felt like a tsunami was crashing into his thread, all of it eager to join him. He reeled the thread back to his body. The newly converted mana followed after receiving the masterium’s directions to return.

  Jiran reached one hundred percent and scrambled to convert and feed the ocean of mana into his suit’s storage formations. But as things often do, something went wrong. A tickle in the back of his brain grew more fierce by the moment until it raged against his focus like a storm. His Remalonian Instincts cried out, suffusing him with panic he didn't have time to understand. His heart raced, doing its best to beat through his ribcage and escape as his breaths turned rapid and shallow.

  All he knew for sure was that the mana he was putting away in those formations didn't belong there. It needed to be inside him. It was his. He had created it. Converted it by dominating it with his will. By the right of the conqueror, it belonged to him and him alone. Unwilling to fight the rising need within, Jiran followed his instincts and pulled.

  The excess mana that couldn't fit within his manapool shifted and vanished. It was gone but not entirely, present yet absent, set aside in a space that existed all around him and nowhere. He could feel it, a comforting pressure on his being that, when called upon, would instantly be at his command. His panic was banished as the mana found its way to where his instincts knew it belonged. A deep sigh escaped, and his eyes drifted to a close as profound peacefulness filled him.

  Armament: + 2

  The last of my new skills. This is the one I should have received at tier six but got early because I already had an aura. So it's a kind of excess mana storage? Isn’t that… extremely broken? What’s the point of having a maximum mana capacity if you can simply exceed it?!

  Memories of the Remalon who appeared at Mortan came rushing back. It commanded an ocean of mana, condensing it into a single point that exploded outward to cloak the land with its overbearing supremacy. Jiran could still feel that pressure. At that moment, he couldn't breathe or think as the unfathomable quantity of mana strangled his will.

  That was his Armament! It’s collected mana exceeding what can normally be held. How much can it hold? Considering what he did, there might not be a limit…

  The flood of mana had slowed to a trickle. Jiran pulled the crystal back to himself. With a light shake, the sand above him was blown into the air. He jumped to the next spot, crashing into the sands once more. Now that he knew the masterium could extend his density collection severalfold, there was no need to stretch out his aura or bother with the synapses.

  With it safely secured in his glove, he activated another call to the ambient, stage one density. Its response was a flood of mana that Jiran knew he would never tire of feeling.

  - Somewhere far to the West -

  Seemingly unending prairies of soft grass flashed by in a blur of muted colors. The scenery shifted to desert sands, and several kilometers passed before Sartok realized what happened. Fear for his host seized his thoughts, but he slowly relaxed as the dunes continued to stretch beneath the Esirpretne without the mythological heat of the wastelands claiming all their lives.

  Intellectually, he understood the braizeboard hull had been crafted by Tortanna herself, and short of a leviathan attack, they would be safe within her walls. However, a lifetime of children’s horror stories was a challenging thing to swallow in one gulp. And it wasn't only the deadly wastelands that threatened his life on this voyage; supposedly, their captain was a seeker. Once they returned to the capital, there was little chance he would be permitted to resume his regular duties. He would be silenced, along with the rest of the crew.

  Sartok knew the best scenario for him was to do his duty and keep his mouth shut. If he did, then his family wouldn’t be purged. Like every other formineer on board, he wouldn’t have signed up had he been informed in advance.

  The hatch to the bridge hissed open, and Sartok’s nose was suddenly a millimeter away from the masterium formation he was tasked with monitoring. The head formineer entered, one of his snobbish henchwomen on his heels.

  “Status of the seeker cores!” She snarled in her typical nasally whine.

  The man overseeing the cores snapped a response Sartek didn’t hear. He wanted to kick himself for not being prepared to answer a similar question had it been directed at him. He fed a trickle of mana into the crowngem in his forehead. The diagnostic formation responded to his signal and released a series of rapid pulses. Sartek quickly deciphered the patterns, hoping nobody noticed.

  “Sartstick! Why are you making us ask?! Your miserable ears aren't worthy of hearing us speak!” The henchwoman shouted, causing him to flinch back from her abrupt appearance at his side.

  “Of course, Ma’am! My apologies, Ma’am! Current speed is seven point oh nine two. All reactors stable. The adjustment to the remainium is functioning above est—”

  Spittle flew from her mouth as she pulled on his uniform, jerking him around to yell in his face, “Did we ask for your opinion, Sartstain?!”

  “That's enough, Tillith,” the head formineer came to the rescue, patting the lunatic woman on the shoulder. Sartok wanted to gag at the sight; he wouldn't touch her with a ten-meter pole, let alone his venerable host’s delicate skin. “Helm, if we increase speed to seven point four, how long until we arrive at the first operational zone?”

  Sartok nearly sagged in relief when the focus of the conversation shifted. His nose was back where it belonged, and he purposefully blocked out anything said that wasn't directed at him. There was a chance, albeit it ever so slim, that if he didn't lay eyes on their mysterious seeker captain and managed to learn nothing of their mission, he just might save his host from the death they were barreling toward at record speed.