Pure Mana was a pale blue that thrummed with potential. It could become anything. Hawke suspected that at higher levels he would be using it more often than the rest, or perhaps exclusively. Now that he was a Mana Mystic, he could do some amazing stuff with Pure Mana. He followed its flow through his body until it reached his Third Eye. Unfurling the previous six Chakras had involved a lot of finesse, except for the Root Chakra, which he had blown open, with painful and near-fatal results.
From the looks of it, unlocking the last one was going to be like solving a puzzle, or beating a Rubik’s Cube. The energy ‘veins’ that led to the Third Eye were thin and tangled together. Forcing them open would damage them and send uncontrolled bursts of Mana into his body. Having seen what they had done to his butt, he had no intention of inflicting that directly into his brain. He’d probably die after losing what passed for his mind.
Instead, he gently coaxed Mana through the network until it found the blocked pathways, and tried to carefully twist them open. Even the slightest miscalculation sent spikes of misery right through his brain like the mother of all migraines. He’d been making progress, however, and…
“Lord Hawke!”
“Son of a bitch!” Hawke shouted, his concentration gone. His head began to throb painfully and he dropped to the ground, grabbing at his temples.
Centurion Marko Clades of the Sunset Legion stared wide-eyed at the sprawled Hawke. “Lord Hawke! Are you all right?”
“I’m just peachy,” he said through clenched teeth as he struggled to his feet. “Bad timing, Marko, but it’s not your fault. I probably should have hung a tie over the doorknob, or something.”
“I don’t understand, lord.”
“My bad. Carry on. What can I do for you?”
“A patrol just returned, my lord. They met a stranger on the road who demanded to see the ruler of the Domain. He struck down several men, none of them fatally, but showed he had too much power for a fourth level Warrior and ten regulars to handle. His level was too high for Sergeant Dekimo to identify.”
“Dammit.”
Adventurers could only see the level of people or creatures no more than ten levels above theirs. That made the newcomer level fourteen at minimum.
“All right. Assemble another mounted troop, and put half the Adventurers on duty on it. Alert the Guild and have them send a balanced six-man party to join it. Where did the patrol find the stranger?”
“Twelve miles to the west, along Traders’ Rut.”
That was the main road between Orom and a dozen villages, continuing west until it crossed the mountains and joined the Imperial highways there. The guy hadn’t killed anybody yet, but that might change. He’d better attend to this personally.
Sorry, honey, but I’ve got a headache and a dangerous Adventurer to deal with.
“As soon as the troop and Guild attachment are ready, send them there. I’m sure Kinto has already alerted the Town Guard.”
“Yes, my lord,” Marko said, looking a bit awkward.
There had been some friction ever since Hawke had peeled off about half of the Town Guard to build the Sunset Legion – a ‘legion’ with fewer than fifty effectives, but you had to start somewhere – and Marko had gone with it. Kinto had remained in charge of the Town Guard, saying that it was as large a force as he felt comfortable commanding. There was already a rising sense of competitiveness among the two military branches that might turn nasty as time went on.
“I’ll be on my way, then,” Hawke told Marko.
“My lord?”
“I’ll be flying Blaze to go meet the invader. If he turns out to be more than I can handle, I will fall back and join up with you.”
“Very well, my lord.”
Hawke returned Marko’s parting salute and headed out. Time to see who had decided to interrupt his meditation and give him a headache.
Guess we’ll find out just how dangerous we all are, Hawke told his sword as the sleek shape of Blaze descended onto the town square.
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Guilds at War: The LitRPG Saga Continues Page 33