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Doubling back was such a brazen move. It might've been indicating something about Jercash's mindset. Confidence? Or perhaps he'd just been expecting Jackson to get sloppy due to the attempted invasion of the capital. Taking a gamble. Trying to create an opening for Abolish to operate more discretely again.

Even if Sermung hadn't pacified it so quickly, it wouldn't have made a difference. Jackson had been anticipating such a move for several days. Granted, it still would've made quite the mess of the city, if Sermung hadn't shown up like that. Jackson could certainly appreciate the man's presence.

Jercash must have been shitting bricks now, though. Ah, unless Sermung was managing to conceal his presence from the man. From what he understood, the High Commander had gotten quite good at that in recent decades.

It still amazed Jackson whenever his mentor continued to grow.

Was there any limit to the strength that servants could theoretically achieve? Or was Sermung just an unparalleled entity in his own right?

Worrisome questions, in their own distinct ways.

And endless in their asking, added Avar. No answers have yet been found, even in the realms beyond this one.

Does that scare you, Jackson? Or excite you, perhaps?

Hmph. Shouldn't you already know? If we are truly one, as you claim?

Perhaps I do already know and merely wish for you to acknowledge it.

Jackson scoffed internally.

Thankfully, another distraction gave him reason to discard this conversation.

The wisp was very close to Sermung now. Within direct sensory range.

Jackson's pen stopped moving.

Was Sermung... fighting someone?

No, there was no damage anywhere. And the atmosphere was so... oddly warm. Relaxed--and even pleased.

What in the world was going on over there?

Jackson focused on the wisp's senses more strongly, giving it the fullness of his consciousness. It made for a nigh complete projection of himself on the other side of the city. A fiery likeness that Sermung would be able to easily recognize.

Or at least, the man should've been able to.

Apparently, he seemed to be enjoying himself too much, at the moment. Jackson could feel the waves of amusement emanating from him.

As he was pinning someone down on a crystal platform and rubbing a slimy creature on the poor, struggling bastard.

Jackson didn't know what he was witnessing, but he felt as if he should probably intervene.

Whoops, sorry. Next page tomorrow

My bad guys. I swear things are fine. I'm just a little disoraginzed at the moment. Thanks for reading, as always.

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It was an easy task for him, this kind of scribbling. A thoughtful task that hardly required thought, anymore. Countless years of paperwork had turned this type of thing into a mindless habit for him, even when the subject matter was this important.

Wars were always like this for him. Writing up letters, orders, reports, invoices, filling out forms, creating entirely new forms for others to fill out.

He enjoyed it all, of course, though for different reasons than he used to.

In his youth, he loved it for the meticulous precision that it afforded. The detail-oriented approach to problem solving. Much could be revealed with a bit of attentive bookkeeping.

But these days, he instead found it peaceful. Having done it so much for so long, attention wasn't particularly necessary, anymore. Even when using it for problem solving, incredibly enough.

Problems during war were rhythmic. Patterned. Familiar and recognizable. Jackson knew what to look for. And even in the rare instances when some new issue appeared, the numbers often made for quite the trail of breadcrumbs to follow. Always simple enough.

And that was the greatest headache for schemers like Jercash. Not an insurmountable problem, of course, but still quite the burden, nonetheless. Jercash knew how Jackson operated. He knew that Jackson would see right through his plans unless he offered up all sorts of feints and misleading numbers.

But Jackson, in turn, knew how Jercash operated, too. Old tricks wouldn't work. Strange shipping manifests? A curious weather report? A mysterious sighting? Odd rumors?

All bogus.

The greater trends were the key. The movement of people, for example. Or the lack thereof, even.

A sudden influx of rural townsfolk into the big city. A sudden absence of movement across state lines. A border guard's report could tell quite a story.

Which was what he was working on. He'd already sent out orders to alter the hourly check-ins with new details. The guards were not going to be happy with the extra nuisance, but the ones who didn't comply would earn themselves a visit from an inspection team.

Or more, if there were other red flags.

Such as in the eastern Intarian states of Lino, Brent, and Cairil. Jackson had already routed Jercash's forces from that little tri-state region once before, so there should've been no more red flags, but apparently, Jercash was under the impression that Jackson wouldn't think to check there a second time.