The Chernobyl Islands didn't stand a sliver of chance.
There's no declaration of war, no grand herald displays, only the quiet arrival of steel gliding through mist and shadows.
The ruling nobilities are replaced with infiltration units with morphing installation. Usually with the T1000 or the Rev9 model which are preferred due to their lower resource cost.
Behind them strode John's own legion of Augmented Knights and towering Augmented Great Knights equipped with equally advanced energy based weaponry.
Leylin even domesticated direwolves from the Great Plains of Death to serve as mounts for officers, each of them have also been augmented not just with speed and strength but also to synchronize and fight along their rider.
What occurred was not war.
It was an execution.
A takeover that was as smooth as a baby's powdered ass.
Fortresses that had held for centuries opened gates or crumbled in minutes.
Pirate fleets vanished beneath invisible aerial strikes.
Clan lords and wild wizard apprentices who drew steel found themselves strapped to a table, being transported to unknown underground facilities.
Resistance changed nothing, it only added more inventory to the harvest: more captives, more beasts of burden for the matrix.
Flora, fauna and men alike were put to their knees before the tide that is Farlier.
Flags changed hands, borders were redrawn, leaders appointed, but for the people, almost nothing truly improved.
Taxes shifted a bit lower, quarrels were suppressed, order became absolute and cold.
It's all true, the unification brought peace within the Archipelago, the peace of a locked cage.
No great public works rose, no lands were tilled better, no lives truly lifted.
All the wealth, all the rare crystals, all the strange ores, every drop of energy drawn from land, sea and living things flowed silently, steadily downward, into Leylin's vaults, his forges, and his expanding networks.
The islands were not conquered for the people, not even for the Farlier, it was all for Leylin.
Everything was harvested as a foundation for what he's trying to build.
Soon enough, available resources piled high.
Data accumulated.
Slowly but surely, candidates for Mass Transmigration began to be sifted from the millions of population by the hundreds.
While most of them only have first and second grade aptitude, it wouldn't matter anymore when they have access to Leylin's research.
Leylin stood overlooking the mist‑wreathed harbours, reports scrolling calmly across his vision.
"Secure the supply lines," he said softly. "We have everything we need… now the real work begins."
*****
Death Beach
Chernobyl Archipelago
Dirigibles arrived from the distant horizon as the envoys of the South Coast academies arrived at the shores of the Death Beach
They whispered in unison, staring, their words dying in their throats. This place was meant to be wild, windswept shoreline of jagged rock, bleached driftwood and empty dunes where they traditionally gathered untamed talent from the outer isles.
Instead, what greeted them is a whole orderly city sprawled across the coast lined with wide paved avenues, sturdy pavilions, glowing lantern posts, clean stone plazas stretching far inland, perfectly laid out and already bustling with activity.
Banner‑bearers stood waiting, calm and polite.
No crowds pressed chaotically; no disputes marred the air.
"Welcome," the lead steward said smoothly "Recruitment grounds have been prepared in advance. Each academy will be allocated its own designated quarter. Your quarters, storage and screening facilities will be set up exactly as your requirements specify. Those with specific instructions please don't hesitate to ask the guide who will be assigned to your group. We will do everything we can to fulfill your needs."
The mages exchanged baffled, wary glances. Some had traveled this route for decades but nothing like this had ever existed here.
"These are grand knights, no? Where… did all these people come from?" one elder envoy asked, gesturing outward.
As far as the eye could see, lines of young men and women stretched in perfect rows, standing straight, quiet, and orderly.
It was not a mob gathered by chance. It seems like every eligible candidate across the entire archipelago are already present in this city. Delivered to their doorsteps like a gift.
Although it meant less work, no scrambling through villages, no long searches, no fighting over promising finds. The magi are suspicious creatures who operates on equal exchange so they are apprehensive of gifts.
"Respected wizards from the South Coast. With all due respect, I, Kendrick would like to represent the Radiant Crown that unified the Chernobyl Islands in presenting all of those with magical affinity within the Archipelago to you."
The knight who spoke walked forward respectfully as he explained the situation.
"You may begin your assessments whenever you wish. We simply wish to ensure neither your time nor the talents of our lands was ever wasted."
The envoys murmured among themselves, some are grateful, impressed, or entirely without care.
In the end, they all thought that the new emperor is simply investing in new seeds for future profit. This is nothing new, in fact, this is similar to how large families in the South Coast operated.
"That's much better, I'd hate to stay another day in this mana starved region." Said a man in embroidered robes who came down followed by a retinue of apprentices.
The official recruitment then promptly began, scrying crystals glowing, and black knights calling forward candidates one by one.
They tested the aptitude for each applicant, this measures the natural ability of one's body to attract ambient mana. Aptitude grades spanned from grade 1 which represents the worst attraction up to grade 5 which signifies the best talent.
Then they tested the children's affinities with the elements. Each individual would naturally have an innate communion with two or three elements, sometimes just one.
Although Leylin and the children are already tested from the beginning, they still had to follow procedures so they all advanced through the lines without fuzzing.
Leylin drifted through the lines, one face among thousands, turning a simple dark ring slowly between his fingers.
It was nothing special at a glance, chipped, unpolished, left behind by some long‑dead wizard apprentice after his ancestor did them a favor.
It used to serve as a family heirloom, the key to have a Farlier descendant admitted into an institution that taught magic.
Now the ring is more of a relic, a faint hope from poorer, harder days. It was almost laughable, with the wealth and resources House Farlier commanded, buying his way into nearly any academy would barely make a dent in his reserves.
Still he followed the flow naturally. There's no need to needlessly stand out at the moment.
He first went to Sage Gotham's Hut with their polite, rigid, values 'purity of spirit' above all else.
His readings were deemed "unbalanced, too broad, and lacking harmony" the result was getting rejected outright.
Then Ennea Ivory Ring Tower also declined with a smooth, practiced excuse: "We have already filled our quota for this intake."
Mercifura Academy and Wetland Gardens also declined after learning of his shadow and darkness affinity.
So he walked on, until he stood before the rough, stained canvas of Abyssal Bone Forest Academy.
The air here smelled of damp earth, rot and strange sharp herbs, it is arguably less grand, and less proud, maybe far less choosy. He heard from small talks from other academies that Abyssal Bone Forest Academy would even recruit people with grade 1 aptitude at times.
"The Abyssal Bone Forest Academy welcomes you!" It was in bold letters written using the blood of some mundane beast which can't be found within the Chernobyl Islands.
Overseeing the line was a grand knight in black with sharp eyes.
"Next!" he called flatly.
Leylin stepped forward.
"He he he what do we have here... You're the 30th recruit today, and by far the most talented knight... Let's see... Third grade was it? What a shame... We've already reached out quota for this recruitment."
Dorotte muttered the last part as if musing to himself out loud.
"I also have this." Leylin placed the ring on the table, his previous thoughts of buying his way through now somewhat became the jinx that held him.
"Oho... This changes things. I can get this off your hands for fifteen magic crystals. The enrollment fee is thirteen, here's two plus this card. Don't lose it."
Leylin took his things and left promptly. Every academy that had turned him away had simply pruned themselves from his list.
None of them knew that beneath those four affinities lay a fully‑integrated cellular runic weave, passive mana‑harvesting systems, and a network of seeded apprentices already waiting to rise.
*****
Inside the cabin of the flying airship, Leylin sat cross‑legged, slowly cycling his personalized knight breathing technique.
When the final cycle faded, he opened his eyes and called up his status display.
[Leylin Farlier
Strength: 9.9
Agility: 11.2
Vitality: 12.5
Spiritual Force: 4.6
Status: Healthy]
He studied the numbers calmly.
Since breaking through to Grand Knight, his progress had ground to a grinding halt, these values had remained unchanged for weeks, stubbornly fixed no matter how many cycles he ran or how much energy he poured into training.
The physical or material limits of this path had been reached; raw cultivation alone would push him no further.
Knight methods have reached its ceiling.
'Further growth now lies entirely with magic, material refinement… and the new foundations I build from here. Wait... What would happen if we combine that low grade meditation technique with my knight breathing technique?'
[Task Established...]
[Simulating...]
*****
Under the Mass Transmigration program, thousands of selected recruits moved through the academies, most carrying that quiet, burning conviction that they were sons and daughters of destiny.
They kept apart, held themselves slightly aloof, driven by silent certainty and the faint, hidden enhancements humming deep within them.
Prominent among them was Jayden, a sharp, ambitious youth who stood out instantly after securing the coveted position as Dorotte's very own personal disciple on the day of recruitment.
Through shared sessions, exchanged notes and subtle, unremarked comparisons arranged effortlessly through the linked network, Leylin obtained a complete copy of the official meditation technique taught by a formal Magus to his disciple.
He laid the two frameworks side‑by‑side in his internal processing.
Structure, mana flow rhythm, core accumulation rate…
[Analysis Complete — Cross‑Reference]
[Optimizing Personal Meditation Technique...]
Now possessing the authentic, standard foundation, he began the next layer of refinement, merging proven magical principles with his mathematical optimization, runic resonance data and passive mana harvesting logic.
[Updating Meditation Framework…]
[Removing inefficiencies.]
[Integrating cellular‑weave synergy.]
[Recalibrating resonance curves.]
[Calculation Complete.]
[Knight Breathing Technique+Mid Grade Meditation Technique+Runic Weave]
[Crux Found]
[Please name the new technique.]
'Let's call it Artificial Genius for now.'
The technique is tens of times better. Not a small improvement but an order of magnitude leap built upon the very foundation the academy or Dorotte thought was exclusive.
Jayden would continue learning, advancing steadily, believing his good fortune and natural talent were carrying him forward.
Dorotte would be pleased with her new disciple's rapid progress. Neither had any idea that they had simply become stepping stones, and their most precious knowledge taken, dissected… and utterly surpassed.
Leylin closed the comparison files, his expression unchanged.
[Structural Analysis Complete.]
Fine silver nanites drifted silently from the shadows, flowing over skin and fabric before seamlessly merging back into Leylin's frame, absorbed without fanfare, every measurement, runic pattern and material property fully logged.
He stood at the railing, gaze tracing curves, support beams and energy conduits as if seeing straight through the hull to the blueprint beneath.
This vessel was Abyssal Bone's pride, built to brave storms and mana‑winds, sturdy and enchanted to standards far above ordinary mortal craft.
Since Leylin intended to leave the Chernobyl Islands' sheltered waters and expand toward the South Coast, his vessels need to be updated with superior build and materials.
[Deconstructing Aerial Vessel Design…]
[Scanning runic arrays...]
[Recording energy flow...]
[Scanning ship blueprint...]
[Scanning formation function...]
[Simulating Adoption...]
[Simulating Construction...]
[Simulating Mass Production...]
Soon enough, he would merge this proven magical architecture with his existing forces.
[Simulating Materials...]
Leylin looked out toward the horizon where mist and dark water met endless sky.
'Materials and material limitations... I swear I'll splurge materials on my ship when I'm finally rich.'
*****
Six months after their departure from Death Beach, the airship drifted down and settled gently onto the Abyssal Bone Moor.
"Disembark in orderly fashion! Collect your belongings and proceed neatly. Do not linger!" An amplified voice boomed out, echoing across stone quays and gnarled woodland.
Leylin and the other recruits followed Dorotte down the gangplank.
The journey had been unusually peaceful, save for the occasional packs of mindless cretins, mutated beasts or scavenging monsters that struck their group at twilight.
Every threat had been dealt with swiftly, crushed by recruits already trained as knights or the quiet, overwhelming strength of the few Grand Knights scattered among their number, Leylin's transmigrators, unflustered and deadly efficient.
"Welcome to your final resting place! The home of shadow and death! Abyssal Bone Forest!"
Dorotte called out, delivering the time‑worn introduction with a dry, unamused snicker, voice flat and bored. "Our Academy was constructed by Merlin Falek Driwilcovick in the Gregorian Year 324…"
He marched them onward, talking non‑stop, dumping an endless stream of facts, history, rules and locations onto the crowd until many recruits' eyes began to glaze over.
He spoke of ancient foundations, danger zones, resource rights, hierarchy and penalties, all standard, necessary, and mostly ignored by those burning to begin their training.
Unknown to him, everything has been captured, recorded and mapped by Leylin's AI.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the assignment square. Dorotte left without word and an old white-robed magus gestured to a leather bound book where the professors of Abyssal Bone are listed.
"Pay one magic crystal to select your preferred mentor personally or take the random free assignment Spotty will give you."
"Choose now,"
Leylin immediately paid the magic crystal and scanned the lists calmly, unwilling for Spotty the black python to decide his fate. That's right, Spotty is a snake pet of the old man.
From his limited time, Leylin found that teachers for rune mastery and magic crafting were nowhere to be found. It would seem that unlike other academies that offer those tracks, they were reserved for higher ranks or other branches entirely in this one.
He picked his path deliberately and cautiously, finding a man named Professor Kroft, who specializes in medicine, herbalism and energy neutralization.
More than anything, Leylin found his requirements to be the most acceptable among the list. Cleaning the laboratory and helping prepare the ingredients among them with no binding clauses.
Others offered generous terms while subjecting their apprentices to bloodline replacement experiments, organ transplant, body modification, and many other things that border torture.
He can only imagine the fate of being assigned randomly to those professors.
On the other hand, potioneering can offer a quiet enough environment for him to grow peacefully, and the skills he'll get are essential enough to prevent getting sent out front in times of war.
Low‑profile, unlikely to draw unwanted attention, yet rich in knowledge that he could refine and exploit perfectly.
He confirmed his choice while the old man looked visibly annoyed that he didn't let Spotty assign him to a professor. Smiling eerily, he spoke. "Follow the shadow slave and do not stray from its path or bear the consequences yourself."
At his subtle, unspoken lead, the tens of Mass Transmigration recruits moved too, spreading naturally, dividing themselves across every available mentor, faculty and discipline.
No clustering or suspicious concentration, they scattered perfectly, embedding themselves deep into every corner of the academy's structure for maximum reach, maximum coverage, and absolute efficiency.
Leylin followed silently as the shadow slave drifted onward, gliding through winding stone corridors, past storerooms, work chambers and humid arched halls opening onto sun‑dappled gardens thick with strange, fragrant and sometimes sharp‑smelling flora.
Finally, they halted before a heavy wooden door, at which point the guide simply phased straight through the solid door surface, leaving Leylin standing waiting in the eerily quiet passage.
Moments later, a voice called out from within. "Leylin, huh? Come in!"
Much to his liking, it was the opposite of Dorotte's. The voice was warm, steady and clear. The door opened and he stepped inside.
Professor Kroft stood beside a broad worktable lined with vials, dried herbs and delicate brass-like instruments.
He has the appearance of a middle‑aged man with neatly combed white hair, robed in white fabric woven through with intricate golden patterns.
As his gaze fell upon Leylin, his irises flared with a bright sapphire glow, scanning him thoroughly from head to toe. "I'm Kroft. Professor Kroft, to you. The shadow slave has already passed along your details."
He spoke calmly, though his eyes lingered thoughtfully on Leylin's athletic, well‑built frame, clearly comparing what he heard against what he saw, silently wondering if the listed age could possibly be accurate.
"So, um.. Leylin Farlier, are you willing to become my apprentice?"
Leylin bowed respectfully, his manner composed and entirely appropriate for a new student.
"It would be my honor, Professor."
"Good! Then as arranged by the academy, I'll accept you as my student!"
Kroft announced while scratching his beard in what seemed like helplessness.
"Alright! That settles it. Let us begin with the ancient rites! It's very simple, you don't need to worry. You just have to give me your hand."
Leylin extended his arm calmly.
"Abiding by the rites of ancient times, I will now guide you, Leylin Farlier, onto the path of a magus!"
Kroft declared solemnly.
"Repeat after me!"
"I swear to forever be in the pursuit of truth!"
Leylin spoke the words, strange, rolling syllables of an alien tongue that should have been incomprehensible, yet he understood every nuance perfectly and reproduced the pronunciation flawlessly.
"I will not reveal any information my mentor passes onto me without permission, I swear!"
Teacher and student continued through the full sequence of oaths, their voices blending until they rose in an eerie, resonant harmony.
Beneath their feet, faint lines flaring deep violet traced themselves awake, forming a complete formation that blazed steadily with them standing right at its glowing center.
The light faded gently as it ended.
"Congratulations on formally becoming an acolyte! I've already unlocked the meditation technique in the crystal ball for you. You can check it when you go back to your lodging. You're expected to report back here tomorrow at six. You can leave now, but for your own good please don't wander around like an idiot. People die young in these halls just out of curiosity." Kroft warned plainly, his tone shifting back to practical seriousness.
"I'll do as you bid! I'll be going then, mentor!"
Leylin bowed properly, turned, and departed. He looked at the progress bar in his view that was steadily creeping upward.
The mapping of all accessible places within the Abyssal Bone Forest Academy appears on it, his sleeper agents are quietly feeding back every corridor, chamber, hidden path and restricted zone across the entire academy grounds.
Satisfied, he turned and walked straight toward the trading post.
He had no intention of purchasing anything today; he merely needed to verify stock, availability and pricing.
Most importantly, checking if this place held the exact materials required to clear his backlog of upgrades.
[Materials Needed:
Silver‑Mana Alloy Dust
Star‑Iron Particles
Blue Copper Filings
Deep Crystal Shavings
Mithril Powder
Thunder‑Jade Grains
Shadow Gold Dust
Fire‑Ruby Sand
Verdant Jade Extract
Liquid Adamantite Residue]
He scanned the shelves, stalls and inventory lists one by one, marking presence or absence of each material in his mind.
Most common materials like the silver‑mana alloy, star‑iron, even blue copper are readily available but the higher‑grade, rarer substances like shadow gold dust, and thunder-jade grains were scarce or entirely absent.
Leylin arrived in front of the laboratory ten minutes early the next morning, finding two others already there.
The beautiful girl with green hair is named Bicky Tyler and the lanky young man is called Merlin Pendragon, they are Kroft's current apprentices.
Merlin who was very close to a breakthrough was deeply absorbed in pushing his own cultivation forward, barely looking up to acknowledge his new fellow apprentice, so Bicky naturally stepped forward to show Leylin around.
Ironically, Leylin already held a perfect, detailed map of the entire academy grounds in his mind but for appearances sake, he accepted the gesture graciously, playing the part of a curious, grateful new junior perfectly.
As they walked, Bicky pointed out landmarks, shortcuts, unmarked rules and hidden spots that even the collective surveys had missed, filling in those last blank spaces and updating Leylin's mental chart with small but vital details.
Over the next few days, Leylin moved methodically. He visited the trading post, placed orders, negotiated discreetly, and paid exactly what was needed, true to the old saying: money talks.
With enough magic crystals offered upfront, restrictions loosened, reserved stock was suddenly made available, and rare imports turned up sooner than promised.
Piece by piece, every item from his requirement list arrived, refined, graded, and prepared down to exact nano‑purity standards.
Before the week ended, he held the complete set of materials required.
Everything was in place to upgrade his nanite swarm into a fully mana‑conductive network… then he could finally etch those microscopic runes into every single cell of his body.