The shard was called a "mana siphon" and it essentially did what the name implied. When a mana channeler got close enough to the shard it would siphon away the effects. The copper armor Trasnik wore was enchanted to conduct the mana adding the effects to the wearer. The explanation was so straightforward it left me feeling disappointed. I was hoping for something maybe a little more…margical?

Then again, it was a pretty neat trick. And now that they were on our side we could learn how to utilize the trick ourselves. As exciting as the information was though, all I really wanted to do was leave everything to Jared and head off to fight things with Mischief.

And yet the chores felt never ending. An entire day spent planning and organizing, making sure every duck was in a row before I took off.

The first item on the docket was the quarry. We needed plans on how to mine and transport the heavy stone across two entire territories. Jared wanted trains. I also wanted trains. Trains would be amazing. Sadly, trains, at least for the time being, were out of the question.

Damon didn't necessarily shut down the idea, but he was very clear that he and the other armourers already had their hands full with a hundred other projects. The problem wasn't the resources or ability as much as it would be simply bandwidth. So instead, the answers were roads.

Roads that could eventually be converted into a railway. Stetson and his iron skeletons would be in charge of the project.

This also raised another concern.

The territory between Trasnik and LM, where Aggard was killed, remained empty.

Which in and of itself wasn't a huge problem. If a faction were to occupy it, then it would be simple enough to retake it. But during a scourge trial? No one wanted to take any chances on forfeiting the territory to a bunch of chaos spawn.

It was time for LM to expand its reaches into a new territory. Which, as it turns out, was a bit more complicated than expected.

Apparently people weren't thrilled about relocating their newly constructed homes to somewhere more remote and less guarded. Therefore we compromised.

Instead of building a new town, we settled on simply erecting a moderate stronghold where the chaos spawn would be drawn to. From there we would have militia take shifts protecting the territory. It would act as a midpoint to the quarry transportation.

Then there was the convoy that needed to accompany the shipments of stone. So far it seemed like the chaos spawns were drawn to the population centers. But that didn't mean we knew everything and it felt reckless to leave the precious marble unprotected.

It wasn't very long before I began to realize how quickly our thousands of fighters would be spread thin and the list just went on and on and on.

Each add on to the faction could conceivably defend their own territory, and were expected to do just that. But it was clear that we'd need help.

That's why Jared and Ellison established a plan to mass migrate as many Guildians, blue men, and elder gnomes as quickly as possible to aid in the defense. We essentially emptied our coffers to assist in bringing over another fifty guildians to take advantage of dealing with the lower level Chaos spawn. We would also set up aid if necessary for the other factions to help them expand as well. Oddly, the dark elves didn't have the ability to migrate members despite having their own territory. The three territories most vulnerable would likely be, the dark elves, Aggards, and to some extent Mischief's.

As we planned, the chaos spawn appeared in intervals of roughly ninety minutes throughout the day, and so far they were not getting any stronger. I knew it was coming though, soon enough the difficulty would increase and hopefully so would the rewards. But the problem that kept creeping into the back of my mind was, how would each territory fair without the help of my shields?

So far, our faction had exactly three healers, me being one, Elise another and the last being a level seven that hid during the induction trial. Knowing I couldn't be everywhere at once made my skin crawl.

There would be other resources though, and healers weren't the only people who could deploy magic shields. Each day our faction gained new and interesting skills and spells that aided in our overall faction strengths. From alchemy to shard crafting, to everything in between. Little by little my need to participate in every fight grew less necessary.

And with that growing competence came a renewed vigour in the faction. And it wasn't just our growing resources that added to the excitement. It felt like many were looking at the scourge trial as a second chance, an opportunity to put the horrors of Jordan's faction behind them, or for just an excellent source of experience.

Combine that with the example of our faction elites and our active human fighters tripled in a day, most immediately participating in defense of our faction. It wasn't uncommon for some to have already earned one or two levels already fighting the weak chaos spawn.

No one in our faction was level one of course. Not after the boosts from completing missions, but there were many that hadn't broken through to double digits.

That was all about to change, or rather, it was already changing.

And with a full day of planning behind me Jared and I both felt confident in me accompanying Mischief and his furry friends into the next two anomalies.

***

For as long as I could remember, my dad would purchase season tickets to our local college football team. Even when money was tight he'd find a way to make it happen.

Section 108, row J. It was open seating in the row so we'd always arrive at least forty five minutes early so we could sit right at the fifty yard line. The crowds were known for being especially loud even though the school's stadium was small compared to some of the other major programs.

Every game, I'd leave with a dull ringing in my ear as we shouted back and forth enthusiastically about highlights.

As loud as those games were, it did nothing to prepare me for the hundreds of clamouring voices laying siege directly into my consciousness.

Overlapping questions of "who are you?", "why are you here?" , "I remember you.", and jumbles of hundreds of words piled onto me.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

My hands shot to my ears in hopes it would bring at least some relief.

To be fair, Mischief warned me before coming about the horrors of his little minions. He'd described his experience as torture from a thousand cuts, but on your brain.

I'd figured he was exaggerating, after all, it wasn't as though I hadn't been in a room full of competing voices before. It couldn't be much different then that right?

Wrong.

The sensation was so overwhelming that in just a few short seconds I began to panic. It was as though my own thoughts were being overwhelmed. I was still able to think, of course. That wasn't the problem. The problem was, I couldn't hear the words of those thoughts. They were suffocated.

The sensation was horrifying.

A deafening roar filled the crisp mountain air, a roar that was decidedly not very mountain lionesque.

It might've been an instant, or several minutes, either way the relentless rush of words blessedly ceased. For several seconds I didn't move, savoring the soft sounds of the mountain. A rustle of branches, the twitter of birds.

I closed my hands and to my surprise felt my fingers curl over soft pine mingled with dewy grass and loamy soil. I opened an eye to find myself on all fours—staring straight down into dirt and grass.

When did that happen?

My head turned to the side, to find Mischief peering down at me. Concern painted all over his face. I shoved myself up, and brushed the dirt from my hands.

"Whelp. You were right, that really did suck."

I waited for my friend to make some kind of sarcastic joke or at least tell me I told you so, anything really would've been better than the penetrating bronze eyes that seemed to be waiting for me to explode at any moment.

"What are you looking at? I'm fine, it was just more than I expected. I guess it makes sense. That must be what it's like for someone who is skitzo, except times one hundred…"

Even with the voices gone, there were strange phantom sounds that echoed in the recesses of my mind.

"I'm ok." I said reassuring him.

He eyed me a bit more. "You were moaning, and there is still spit dripping down your chin."

Reflexively I wiped at my mouth with the sleeve of my robe, feeling the dampness seep through the delicate fabric.

Had I really been moaning? The only thing I'd even noticed was the cacophony of voices. The best way I could describe the sensation was like turning the radio on when the volume was already at full blast, but the volume was directly in my head.

"Was it that bad for you?"

"No…" It was hard to ignore how he was purposefully speaking softly. "But I do have a higher sense stat, and telepathy is sort of my thing."

I cocked my head. Accepting it was probably worse for me, his reasoning kind of made sense. Curious, I eyed the some odd hundred cats that were gathering in a semi-circle around Mischief and myself. Mischief might have a higher sense stat than myself, but there was just no way these lower level creatures were even close. How were they not going insane from the noise? They must be talking amongst themselves.

If I were exposed to that noise for even an hour, it would probably drive me totally insane. I imagined it for a second, hundreds of insane wild cat people swinging from the trees, hissing like banshees, and throwing poop on everyone. I shuddered.

"We can't have crazy poop throwing cats." I muttered.

Mischief eyed me. "Who's throwing poop?" He asked defensively.

But as I watched the band of felines, they didn't seem crazy. If anything they just seemed intensely curious. Why weren't they affected like I was?

And then it hit me. Sure, they were likely talking amongst themselves, but the odds of all of them talking to a single one at a time were slim. When I arrived the whole group of them assaulted me at once, but that wasn't happening in their group dynamic.

Grateful that Mischief put a quick stop to the mental barrage, I decided it would be prudent to avoid such a situation in the future. Especially if we were going to enter the anomaly and fight together.

"Nobody say a thing!" I shouted warding them off with my raised hands. "I'm Mischief's friend and I'm here to help you all stay alive in the next fight."

I waited to make sure that they were all listening, and was rewarded with inclined heads and twitching ears.

"No more group mind effing though alright? And if you do have something to say, get my attention by raising your hand or something so I know who it is that's talking. Sound good?"

I clapped my hands together, and turned to the giant black cat next to me.

"Think they get it?"

In response he used his head to point back to the group. Clothed in nothing but thick burnt orange fur, and standing a good head taller than myself, one of the cats cautiously made its way towards me. Narrow hips and broad shoulders gave the cat the appearance of a lifelong body builder.

Even without being told, the resemblance was clear. I knew exactly who this cat was.

The cat reached out a surprising human hand—if not for the fur and razor-like claws instead of finger nails—and rested it on my forearm. I glanced down at the hand and a new voice entered my mind, unsure and broken.

"I am Bracken. We can hunt together."

***

If I'd learned anything from my time in this new world, it's that you should always apply your defenses before stepping through a portal. And all it took was an arrow in the gut to teach me.

I'm not saying I was grateful for the arrow, but the lesson proved invaluable the second we stepped into the anomaly. Passing through the translucent shimmer the landscape remained exactly as it had before. Sepia tones highlighted the changing colors and emerging orange and browns of small shrubs and dotted willows.

But I wasn't able to enjoy it for long. Grotesque fiends that looked like something cooked up in Frankenstein's laboratory appeared as if from thin air. The monsters wasted no time to put their hodgepodge of unmatched appendages to work in assaulting our little army.

In horror, I watched as a creature with a wolf's body threw its unnaturally large frame against a grey and black tabby, only to be met aggressively by the powerful barrier spell I'd cast before entering.

At first glance the wolf seemed to be completely headless, with nothing but a nub where the head would normally sit on the neck. But upon closer inspection I realized that it did, in fact, have a head.

It just wasn't a wolf's head, and it wasn't on the neck.

I recoiled as the grey tabby wrapped its arms around the writhing wolf and latched on. With a morbid crunch, the cat whipped its head back and forth. A puff of feathers followed and the wolf's frame collapsed into a heap, proof the feathered ball now firmly between the grey tabby's teeth was indeed the monster's head.

The monster's paw twitched, but the tabby was already moving to its next target.

This was not what I expected to find in the anomaly. Mischief told me that the last one was bears. Larger than normal, sure, but bears, just bears. These things? Not bears.

Snarls and yowls rang out all around and the cat people grappled with our enemies.

Everywhere I looked, bizarre combinations of forest creatures were locked in desperate combat. The lack of continuity in the design of the creatures gave me a profound sense of discomfort. Oversized critters with mismatching appendages jutting out in unnatural angles.

A raccoon the size of a sedan with equally as large frog legs jutting out randomly across its back, chipmunks that wouldn't fit in a wheelbarrow with hindquarters made of mucus covered worm bodies rather than hind legs. As far as I could tell, there was no rhyme or reason to the combinations, just chaos.

I scrunched my face, disgusted.

If the cat people felt the same way, it was impossible to tell. The good news was, it didn't take long for them to recognize the utility of my shields. Fighting became easy when there was no apparent risk of danger. They killed without hesitation, mercifully laying the abominations down one by one.

It could have been my imagination, but as the fight played out across the deep green forest it felt as though I could see in the tired eyes of the mana spawn a heavy weight. It almost seemed like behind those eyes was a reservoir of pain that was impossible to express. I folded my arms and tried to focus my attention on the fight at hand.

My attention settled on Bracken.

According to Mischief, his littermate was extremely close to gaining his first evolution. To keep my mind occupied, I tried to imagine what sort of evolution the angry cat might have in its future. My gut told me that most of these cat people would follow some type of class associated with Mischief's progenitor class.

Mischief warned me about what happened with the bears, how Bracken tore them to pieces long after he'd killed them. There was no question Bracken was aggressive, however it wasn't quite to that extent now. If anything his aggression seemed more intent on the quickest path to kill as many mana spawn as possible.

He was one of the few that used weapons to fight. It didn't take my skillbook on swordplay to know that Bracken had no idea how to use his katana. More than once he even attempted throwing the sword as hard as he could. Most of his attempts resulted in him either missing completely and needing to retrieve it, or the sword hitting the creature hilt first causing more confusion then any real damage.

It was enough though to keep my mind off of the mana spawn though, and soon enough, the fight was over.

Congratulations! You have defeated a wave of corrupted mana spawn.

Rewards based on contribution. Calculating….

I waited as the system notification sat frozen on the word calculating, the final dot of the ellipses blinking softly.

Corrupted mana spawn?

A second passed and then another, the dot blinking in and out. I was just about to close my screen and try reopening it like trying to reset the page or something.

When words began scrolling again.

Rewards have been calculated: All participants have gained a new title.

A merciful end - Sometimes in the cosmos, existence is worse than death. + 25 wisdom.

This anomaly has been corrupted by a powerful mana user from another world, you must defeat the last of the corrupted mana spawn and their champion.

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