Chapter 13: Top-Level Classified Dispatch

Words : 1804 Updated : Oct 11th, 2025

"The Oracle Jade has been activated?" Ian Juggins frowned. "So this kid isn't ordinary after all." Garrett Zorn drew a long breath. His face hardened as he said, "He dares lay a hand on me, so he's no pushover." "Why not just say my name? Who are you trying to insult with all that roundabout talk?" Ian rubbed his brow. "You didn't come just for the camp, did you? More orders from above?" At that, Garrett shot him a meaningful look and, with a rare smile, said, "Haven't seen you in years, and you finally grew a brain? Not bad. Not bad." He fished a letter from his pocket and handed it over. The humor drained from Ian's face the instant he took it. He grew solemn, even holding his breath. Along the sealed edge lay a dark red wax stamp, its emblem three sinuous, S-shaped dragons. "Top-tier classified missive..." Ian's voice trembled. He could barely get the words out. Chiton had built five border strongholds along the Imperial Barrier to bar outside foes, each guarded by a powerful army. Garrett Zorn, for instance, was a corps commander of one of the ten elite corps stationed within Chitonian Pass, holding command over a hundred thousand troops. In peacetime, the corps commanders were posted across Chiton's provinces; only the Army Governor held the frontier at the Imperial Barrier. Once war loomed, the commanders received the Governor's handwritten mobilization letters, ordering them to lead their units to the border at once. If a commander also received a confidential letter from the Governor, it meant an emergency of grave danger to Chiton. They were graded, from unmarked at the lowest to three totems at the highest. Ian, uneasy, broke the seal and read word by word. For a while, the tent fell into a suffocating silence. Smack! Ian slammed the letter onto the table and snapped, furious, "Vemhex Society, you're courting death!" At first light, the sun bathed the Human World, lighting the military camp where soldiers slept where they fell. Their uniforms were caked in mud; tiny insects had left pus-filled welts on their skin. The previous night, every soldier in the camp had trekked to Drakon to harvest Touchblight Bloom stalks. They had labored half the night, tearing up Drakon from top to bottom, before finally stumbling back to rest. They were spent, so they had simply collapsed onto the ground to sleep. By the plaza, inside a medical tent, Jason Yare lay weakly on a cot, his color slightly improved from earlier. He stared at the tent roof, replaying the bizarre clash with Garrett Zorn. It had been the first time a talisman had failed so completely and rebounded with such force. Thinking it through, at the instant he cast the Stasis Spell, Garrett seemed to be wrapped in an invisible wall of force. It not only blocked the talisman's power but struck back immediately. "If that's the case, my target was that wall itself, whose strength far surpassed mine. Otherwise, my energy and spirit wouldn't have been drained dry." Eyes thoughtful, Jason matched it to what he had experienced with the strange entity at the bottom of the lake. It wasn't hard to conclude that the Talisman Technique couldn't be used against people or things far beyond one's own strength. Otherwise, it would strip away your energy and spirit. Any worse, and you could collapse and die. With that conclusion, Jason sighed. "If only I could control how much energy the Talisman Technique uses." Because of King Balam's Legacy, he could call up any talisman at will, yet he couldn't manage his energy use. It was simple: safe against the weak, doomed against the strong. "I made you a bowl of rice porridge. Eat a little." Marlee Juggins entered with a bowl, breaking his train of thought. Jason clenched his jaw and pushed himself upright, and a wave of dizziness rolled over him. "Can you still go on rounds like this? Do you want to wait another day?" Marlee asked, anxious. "No." Jason shook his head. "My method can suppress the hex for one night. Once the ice melts, the backlash will hit the soldiers even harder." It was high summer, surface temperatures well over a hundred degrees. No matter how much ice they piled up, it wouldn't last. Yesterday, near sundown when the heat dropped, the ice wall had worked. Now the temperature was rising; that trick clearly wouldn't work. If the hex wasn't rooted out, the soldiers had only one path left, and that was death. Jason slurped down the rice porridge to the last drop, felt a little steadier, and stepped outside. On the plaza lay 1,852 soldiers afflicted by the Viper Hex, two-fifths of the camp. As the heat climbed, the ice wall had already started to melt. Between the dew and the light breeze, the Dragonbane Powder's effect was fading. "Ms. Juggins," Jason said, turning to her, "could you run to the hospital for me? I'll be tied up here for a long stretch. I'm worried my mom will wake, not see me, and panic." "No problem. I'll look after her," Marlee said, then asked, "What does she like to eat? I can pick something up on the way." Jason thought a moment. "Dumplings with napa cabbage and pork, with aged rice vinegar, and, if possible, garlic... cough, sorry, I-" He suddenly realized he was piling on demands for someone of her standing, like he was asking her to act like a maid. Marlee waved it off. "My grandpa loves that too. I peel the cloves myself." "Thanks, I appreciate it." "We're friends. Don't mention it." Marlee smiled and left the camp. Soon, Jordan jogged over. "Doc, do we start now?" Jason nodded. "First, gather a number of healthy soldiers equal to those afflicted. I need to train them." "Then have the Touchblight Bloom stalks pressed for juice, and portion out the chicken blood and Dragonbane Brew." "Also, this will take time. Set up a big canopy so the soldiers don't get heatstroke." Jordan noted everything and sprinted off to arrange it. Before long, a group of soldiers assembled in front of Jason. After forming up, they sat down in unison on the ground. A swarthy, powerfully built man ran to him, snapped a salute, and boomed, "A total of one thousand eight hundred and fifty-two soldiers have assembled. Awaiting your orders, Doctor!" He turned and took his place beside Jason, his eyes razor-sharp as he scanned the ranks. Faced with such a scene, Jason's heart surged. Who hadn't dreamed as a child of commanding legions in battle? He hadn't exactly lived it, but the scene felt close. He drew a steady breath, took the megaphone, and shouted, "This will be a hard fight. Time is short. Take these instructions to heart. Thanks for your cooperation." He bowed deeply to the soldiers, then called out, "Training starts now!"

Chapter 13: Top-Level Classified Dispatch

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