“You want me to take children into the sixth stratum? That’s insane.”

“We aren’t children,” Emelia says flatly, “we’re Templars.”

“I don’t care if you’re the Child Emperor in disguise, you aren’t coming with me to the sixth. That goes for all of you! Even the old man!”

“I like to think I’m in my prime,” Bertran says with a smile. “Aged like a fine wine.”

“I know for a fact you only drink tea and the occasional hard cider, Bertran!”

“Just because I don’t drink wine doesn’t mean I can’t know that it ages well under the right conditions.”

“Well… that’s true.”

Damn him and his unflappable logic.

“We have to be around you in order to properly level our Classes,” Jern says as he sits down and leans into the wall, placing his axe across his legs. “And we can’t properly protect you from spiritual danger if we aren’t close. So it makes sense for us to hang around.”

“I agree, Eldest,” Protectant says, momentarily popping into existence on top of my head.

“Ah! Dangit! I forgot you were up there. Stop mutating that stupid organ, it’s getting too effective.”

“We won’t,” she replies smugly, once again fading from my awareness.

But not from my Vestibule. As long as I think to check on them, I can always work out where they are, it’s just that I forget about them more and more as time goes on and that stealth organ of theirs gets stronger.

So annoying! Why is everyone trying to get on my nerves today?

“We don’t know if there’s going to be spiritual threats in the sixth,” I point out, “so who says I need your protection?”

“Can you say with confidence that there won’t be?” Bertran replies reasonably. When I glare at him, he spreads his hands. “It’s not an unreasonable question, Great One.”

“We want to help!” AlisAlisAriss says, standing next to Jern. “We’ve been helpful before and we’re stronger now, so it should be fine.”

The three children just glare at me. Honestly, I can’t tell if they even like me or view me as an annoying pest that they need to take care of.

“It’s not happening, so there!” I declare before turning my back on them, facing the wall, and promptly dropping to the ground with a room-shaking thud.

Lousy Templars, trying to bully me around. I only just recently started not having to worry about my own protection detail all the time, now the Templars want to tag along? They’re so small and squishy! They’d be crushed in no time. Who knows if they can even survive the mana density down there?

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That’s right, I’m saving them from themselves. Now, back to my mental exercises. I can’t remember the last time I was able to sit still and practise one thing with this much dedication. Since I’ve been seeing results, it’s enough to keep me interested, I suppose. Also, I can’t stand being worse at casting magic than Propellant. She has the attention span of a lit match, for goodness’ sake.

Right, then. I’ve been getting a lot better at the last third of the segments for the Singularity. What I need is to practise weaving them together more consistently. Time to focus!

…

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Could you explain?”

Even facing the wall, I don’t need to turn my head in order to look at the Templars, given my compound eyes, and what I see is not something that brings me joy.

They’re kneeling, in a row, with their hands clasped before their faces and their eyes closed, facing me earnestly with bowed heads.

“This… this isn’t what it looks like is it?”

“What does it look like?” Jern asks me without opening his eyes.

“I… I don’t want to say it.”

“Then we can’t answer your question, Great One,” Alis says.

Ugh… this is the worst.

“It’s not going to work. I’m going back to my practice now.”

“As you say, Great One,” Bertran says, smiling. “We won’t bother you.”

Right. Ignore them, back to the training. Now… where the heck was I? Ah, I was working on the final third of the spell. It’s tricky stuff, largely due to the huge volume of power involved. Pushing two Gravity Bombs into each other is what causes the reaction, but if the spell isn’t prepared properly, then all that energy will just explode in my face. Which would be bad.

So… I better… make sure I get it… right.

Are they still?

…

They are.

…

Gah! I can’t take it!

“Dammit! Stop praying at me!”

“We are praying to you,” Jern corrects me.

“I don’t hear prayers! I’m not a god!”

“I feel like you do hear them,” Jern says.

“I just told you I don’t.”

“My god may not always be honest,” he shrugs, still praying.

I refuse to tell him that I can hear his prayers. I refuse! All of the Templars have direct access to the Nave through their statue-thingies. Their Will always flows in, no matter where they are. So technically I can hear his prayers, but not in a religious way!

Even the three children are praying. How do they look so innocent and yet so devious at the same time? They know how much this annoys me!

“Fine! FINE! I’ll take you to the sixth! Stop praying at me, and never call me your god again, and I’ll take you. Sheesh!”

In the process of standing up with bright smiles on their faces, the six of them exchange glances, then kneel back down again.

“Can’t do that, Great One,” Jern tells me, resuming his prayerful pose.

“You guys are the worst.”

“I’m a devoted servant.”

I sigh.

“You win. No more prayers, you can come to the sixth.”

“Good choice, Great One,” Jern says as they all climb to their feet. “And I’ll never pray at you again. You have my word.”

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