For someone like Finn, with his knowledge from the future, he understood this fact even better.
He knew of soul densities and how it decided a person’s magical capability, and that Transcendents were people that simply had soul densities exceeding the peak Arcanist threshold — the highest soul density an Arcanist could achieve — but hadn’t quite reached what would eventually be classified as Ossuarist level.
Applying that knowledge to Transcendents, that would mean people like Tavian were Transcendent by technical definition, but operating at the lower end of that spectrum.
Their abstract magic, their conceptual abilities, were real and powerful when applied cleverly. But they lacked the overwhelming, reality-bending authority that stronger concepts from people at the higher end of the Transcendents soul spectrum provided almost effortlessly.
Tavian’s Passage magic was still very versatile and useful. But it required constant creative application to remain relevant in high-level conflicts. It wasn’t like Himothy’s Glory or Thalia’s Order, which imposed themselves on reality through sheer conceptual weight.
He knows he’s likely to die, Finn realized, watching Tavian’s carefully controlled expression. And he’s looking for alternatives that might improve his survival odds.
That same realization flickered across other faces around the fire. Casmir’s expression softened fractionally. Thalia’s eyes showed understanding rather than dismissal.
Deacon watched impassively, as if he’d considered this fact long ago and filed it away as inevitable truth.
"Our current plan is our best option," Casmir said, not unkindly, but with finality. "Blind teleportation introduces too many variables. We go in as a group, we move fast, we use concealment as long as possible, then we fight our way through when stealth fails."
He moved on quickly, sparing Tavian further scrutiny.
"Formation and movement," Casmir continued, sketching in the dirt. "Keeva and Osric at the front and flanks, maintaining a concealment bubble. Himothy and Thalia on point. You’re our heaviest hitters, you clear any obstacles that appear. Finn, you’re to position yourself flexibly, move around and use your Error to disrupt divine authority when we encounter it."
His stick drew a protected center position.
"Yara and Ailin here, in the middle of the formation. Deacon, like I said before, you’re free to move as you deem fit. Tavian, you’re with Yara."
"I’ll bring up the rear," Casmir finished. "I can create spatial disruptions to cover our escape route or collapse passages behind us, creating distance."
He looked up from the map.
"We move in two hours. That gives everyone time to prepare mentally, check equipment, say whatever needs saying. Once we start, we don’t stop until we’re through that breach or dead."
The bluntness was jarring but necessary.
"Questions?" Thalia asked.
Silence answered her.
"Then rest while you can," she said quietly. "This is going to be the hardest thing any of us have ever done."
Finn stared into the fire, feeling the trace divinity still flickering inside him. There wasn’t much left. Less than half the original 0.27% for sure. But he lacked a soul register to see for himself exactly how much remained. He just hoped what was left was enough for sustained divine combat.
Around the fire, the other Transcendents prepared in their own ways. Himothy stretched, limbering up for violence. Thalia closed her eyes in meditatation, Order settling around her. Keeva practiced subtle gestures, refining her disguise magic. Yara sat beside Ailin, one hand resting protectively on the Memory bearer’s swollen head.
And Deacon simply watched the flames with his golden eyes, deep in thought, analyzing what only he could see.
.
.
.
Two hours passed in tense preparation.
When Casmir stood and extinguished the fire with a gesture, no one spoke. They moved into formation silently, each Transcendent settling into their assigned position efficiently.
Keeva cast her disguise magic over them like a veil. It cloaked their existence with a quality of unremarkability that made the eye want to slide past without registering what it saw, essentially making them invisible. Osric layered silence over that, creating a bubble where sound simply ceased to exist beyond its boundaries.
Yara lifted Ailin carefully, the Memory bearer’s grotesquely swollen head cradled against her shoulder. The unconscious woman’s breathing remained shallow but steady.
They began moving.
The forest gave way to cleared land, then to the first signs of civilization — dirt paths worn by constant patrols, makeshift camps, supply depots. The border region between the two rival nations was heavily militarized, more than what Finn had expected. It was a wonder how the two nations were not yet at open war.
Finn kicked into full alertness, activating his Error Vision passively. With it, he highlighted patrol patterns, the gaps in coverage, the natural flow of movement they could exploit, guiding the party through the safest routes with minute gestures.
They passed within steps of the first patrol.
Six soldiers, armed with spears and short swords, walking a perimeter route with boredom evident in their faces. They carried out their duty as if they were simply going through the motions.
And the Transcendents simply moved past them like ghosts.
They moved deeper into the fortified zone, encountering more patrols. More near-misses. But without fail, Keeva’s disguise and Osric’s silence kept them invisible as they headed straight for their target.
There were times where a few soldiers with particularly sharp senses would pause as if sensing something move past them, but in the end, they’d wave it off as a gust of wind or just their imagination.
That continued until the temples came into view.
The two massive structures dominated the landscape — one to the north, one to the south, positioned like sentinels guarding opposing sides of an invisible border. Each temple was enormous, built from white stone that seemed to glow faintly in the pre-dawn darkness.
Smaller temples surrounded each great structure. Four around the northern temple, five around the southern one. All positioned in a deliberate pattern, creating a wide circle that enclosed...
...The hole, Finn realized, though they couldn’t see it yet.
The Transcendents maintained their steady pace, moving between the outer ring of smaller temples with agonizing slowness. Rush now and they’d draw attention. Hesitate and the disguise magic might flicker.
Templars stood at each temple entrance. And unlike the normal soldiers they’d seen so far, these Templars were built differently.
Tall. All at least six feet, adorned with ornate armor, carrying weapons that hummed with divine energy. Their eyes scanned the darkness methodically, looking for threats that conventional soldiers might miss.
The Transcendents passed within arm’s reach of one such templar.
The man’s head snapped toward them.
His hand tightened on his halberd. Divine authority flared around him, a golden aura that made Finn’s divinity want to activate. But he immediately suppressed it, freezing mid-step along with the entire formation. They halted as one, not daring to breathe.
The templar’s eyes swept across their position, through them, past them, seeing nothing but feeling wrongness in the air. His jaw clenched as the frown on his face deepened with each second.
For a moment, it looked like he wanted to dismiss what he sensed as wrong, but his gaze suddenly firmed as he came to a bold decision.
He turned sharply to the temple entrance and shouted: "ALERT! Something approaches! All stations, heightened awareness!"